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ncityrave · 3 years

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Baila

Pairing: Dance Teacher!Huang Renjun x Fem Reader

Genre: Slow Burn, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Pinch of Angst, Suggestive, Lowkey College!AU

Rating: PG-13

Synopsis: You can count on your fingers the number of things you can't do. Can't date, can't escape school, and can't dance. But when your roommate convinces you to accompany her at a dance class to impress her crush, you had no other choice but to say yes. It's a pain in the ass, especially when the dance teacher becomes a distraction rather than a guide.

Warnings: Mentions of food and alcohol. Swearing. Heavily implied smut.

Word count: 11k

Masterlist

A/N: I'm not an expert at Latin dances, so my description of them dancing is quite general. If you're a dancer and feel uncomfortable with my portrayal of Latin dance, don't hesitate to inform me! Also I sooooooo have the hots for Renjun rn...

Dancing has never been your strongest suit, nor will it ever be your strongest suit. If most bad dancers had two left feet, let's just say you had two left feet facing opposite directions and liked to move on their own. So, when your roommate, Yejun, practically begged you to join her in a Latin dance class, there was only one clear answer.

“No.”

“What?” she gawks at you. “I am begging! Jeno invited me and this is my one chance to get him to finally fall in love with me. This is my future we’re talking about!”

“And this is my dignity,” you reply flatly, not wanting to argue any further. Although understandably annoyed at her pestering, you really couldn’t blame her for pining over the tall, easy-going Computer Science major.

Lee Jeno carried himself with a cool veneer; hair styled back just enough to make him look cute and not pretentious - according to Yejun. A lone beauty mark adorned his high cheekbones and if you got up close enough, you’d notice a sprinkle of freckles over his porcelain skin. He certainly was a sight for sore eyes. Unfortunately for you, Yejun made sure your ears were the main target of her lovesick fantasizing ever since meeting him. You half-wished you could take his name out of her vocabulary.

“But you have to! I can’t make it too obvious I’m joining just for him,” she whines, clinging onto your arm. Passersby turn towards the two of you, throwing daggers in your direction for ruining the lovely Friday peace and you quickly slap your hand over her lips. But she pushes you away, licking at your palm.

“Gross!” you shriek, wiping your hand off on your pants.

“Come on, man,” she groans, stomping her way towards you. “Can’t you just give in to this one thing? I’ll do your laundry for the rest of the year.” Her eyes grow wide, brows furrowed.

Looking at Yejun, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for saying no almost immediately. It was obvious to nearly everyone that her crush wasn’t actually as unrequited as she thought it was and if one dance class was what it took, maybe you can spare her the time. Also, there was only so much you could take before you were forced to just spell it out for her.

“You’re gonna cover for me at The Buns and Burner for the next month, no more complaining when I ask you to cook, no more stealing from my cookie stash,” you start to list, her smile brightening, “and, yes. I would like it if you did my laundry for the rest of the year.”

“Promise! I love you so much,” she shrieks, arms enveloping you as she sways you around.

“Yejun!” At the sound of her name, you two turn around. Jeno, the man of the hour, looms over you both with a kind smile. Nodding towards you, he waves shyly. Nudging Yejun forward, she composes herself and smiles back. “So, you coming to that dance class I mentioned?”

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss it,” she replies bashfully. “Y/N’s joining us, by the way.” Jeno’s gaze moves from your giddy friend to you.

“Never pegged you as the dancing type,” he thinks aloud.

“Never was,” you retort jokingly. His smile widens.

“Well, hopefully you’ll enjoy it! My friend is the dance instructor and he’s super excited about the whole thing. It’s his first time hosting a class.”

Yejun is nodding enthusiastically at his every word and you have to physically hold yourself back from telling her to stop otherwise her head will fall off her shoulders. “We’re super excited, too! She was practically begging me to tag her along.”

You side-eye her, pausing minutely before humming in acknowledgement. “I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity,” you lie as Yejun hugs you closer to her side. Jeno laughs, not quite convinced by you.

“Anyway, I have to go! Class and all. See you guys next week!” Jeno walks away and when his figure is far enough, Yejun slumps into herself.

“Make it two months at The Buns and Burner,” you say plainly. She shoots up, mouth opening to protest. But at your pointed glare, she knows you weren’t giving her much of a choice.

“Jeno better ask me out after all this.”

Your earliest memory of dancing was when your parents enrolled you into a ballet class.

Retrospectively, perhaps it wasn’t the best idea especially when you started throwing tantrums in the middle of stretching. Your mother had to apologize endlessly to the instructor while other parents and little ballerinas started to grow impatient with your ceaseless crying. Ever since then, it’s been a non-negotiable that you go nowhere near dance classes unless needed to.

You didn’t hate it, per se. You just didn’t want to be placed in a vulnerable situation where your dancing would be subjected to the judgement of others. Which just made you dread the class even more.

Even before you made your way up to the studio, the tell-tale notes of Latin music were already bouncing off the walls. The glass door’s covered by a sheen of precipitation and when you crack it open, laughter seeps out into the hallway. Hesitantly, you make your way inside, shivering as the air conditioning blasts against your flushed cheeks.

It all feels off standing inside the large dance studio clad in a rumpled pair of leggings and a shirt at least 4 sizes too big. Yejun’s already talking it up with Jeno. Beside him, his friend Jaemin stands with arms crossed, joining in on their conversation. You inhale deeply, swallowing the last inkling of pride.

Eyes sharp, you scan the room. There had to be at least 20 more people. Catching your lingering form, Yejun lifts her arm and waves at you. Jeno and Jaemin smile over at you, watching you wobble over to them.

“Well, look who's here,” Jaemin pipes up. You were much closer to the bubbly, raven-haired Health Sciences major than Jeno, but his warm greeting doesn't make you feel any less out of place.

“Don’t start,” you warn. He laughs at your troubled expression, laying a hand on your shoulder. Jaemin quirks an eyebrow at you, anticipating that you'd run out of the studio before the class even starts.

“Don’t you just love third wheeling?” he jokes, nodding towards your roommate, attempting to lighten your mood. Yejun and Jeno were too deep in conversation to notice the way Jaemin looked over at them - or how you nervously teetered over your feet.

“She promised to do my laundry, so I can’t really complain at this point.”

“That’s not fair. I didn’t get anything out of this!” You laugh at him.

“There’s always a next time,” you mumble, patting his shoulder.

Jaemin lets out a noise of approval. “I hope you don’t mind being my partner for this whole thing,” he gestures around the room.

Knowing you knew absolutely no one else, it wasn’t hard for you to agree. “You’ll have to pry me off your side to catch me partnering myself off with someone else.”

“Only one condition,” he says mischievously.

“What is it?”

“You don’t hit me in the face like what you did to Haechan.”

Of course Jaemin would bring up the time you accidentally sucker punched the Communications major in the face after getting paired with him for your interpretative dance elective. Poor guy had to say he got into a bar fight to save face despite having the confrontational skills of a baby duck.

“That was an accident!” you protest, hands coming up to cover your face.

“Exactly! You gave him a black eye on accident. I can only imagine what you can do on purpose.”

You quietly laugh, reassuring him that you’ll spare his face for the next few hours. “I’m more worried about my dancing than hitting you, if I’m gonna be honest.”

“Hey, you have me as your partner. I got you,” he coyly says, winking at you. Just as you’re about to let out a cry of distaste, the door swings open and the space falls silent. An unfamiliar face walks into the room.

Sporting loose clothing and a cap over his light brown hair, he carries himself with an air of professionalism that even has you lowering your gaze - as if to say he was here for business and business only.

Setting his bag down by the mirror, he's quick to set up the stereo and find his place front and center before removing his cap to reveal his face. Despite the man’s soft features, his hardened eyes catch you off guard. He scans the room, pupils glinting under the harsh fluorescent studio lights, sizing up the class.

You had half the mind to bolt right then and there. Having to dance was one thing, but having to endure this man’s seemingly austere demeanor was another. Suddenly, his eyes land on your group cooped in the corner and a smirk makes its way onto his lips. Your shoulders relax ever so slightly.

“Jeno, Jaemin,” he says, full on grinning, and makes his way towards the four of you.

“Hey, Renjun,” Jaemin greets from beside you, coming towards the dance teacher and pulling him into a hug. “Told you we’d be able to come.”

Renjun looks over at Yejun, then at Jeno knowingly, then at Jaemin, then you. His gaze lingers on you a beat longer. “You must be Yejun and Y/N?”

“That’s us! I’m Yejun,” your roommate says, coming forward and waving happily at Renjun like the social butterfly she is. “We’re roommates,” Yejun adds, pointing over at you. You spare him a curt wave, deciding to keep your greeting short.

Renjun simply nods, glancing at the wall clock before clasping his hands together and making his way back to the front of the class. “Sorry I’m late, everyone. Let’s get started!”

Thirty minutes later, you realize his delicate features were deceitful - soft voice even more of a trickery. You weren’t an expert at dance classes. A few Zumba sessions here and there led you to the ill-informed belief that all dance teachers would be cheery, middle-aged ladies with a knack for cracking jokes and offering reassuring nods through the mirror.

Renjun’s the complete opposite. He liked to remain quiet, taking note of every subtle mistake or misstep. Eyes like a hawk, he’d make his way around the room, counting under his breath as the music played and stopping every time someone missed a beat. Unfortunately for you, you were the source of most of these blunders.

“The counting is 1-2-3-and-4, not 1-and-2-and-3-and-4,” Renjun says firmly, coming up to you for what seemed to be the nth time. “And make sure to flex your toes to the ground on the last count."

“Sorry,” you mumble, pushing back a lock of hair that had stuck onto your sweaty face. “I’m not really good at dancing.”

“I can tell,” he whispers teasingly, but not in a tone that irks you. Regardless, your head whips towards him, mouth pursed in embarrassment. Behind you, you see Jaemin offer you a thumbs up of encouragement.

As you’re about to smile back at him, a hand finds its way to your hips. Renjun places his fingers onto your chin, turning your gaze towards the mirror. Meeting his eyes, your breath hitches and he takes notice of your tense shoulders against his chest. “Okay, go along with me. From the beginning.”

When he steps to the side, he nudges you with him. Your feet falter for a moment before they match his pace, moving somewhat in tune with his quicker, cleaner footwork. Renjun's hand stays around the curve of your hip, steadying you whenever you lose balance. If it was possible for him to burn a palm print onto your skin, it probably would happen with the way his grip seemed to tighten with every count.

“Ready? 1-2-3-and-4.” He glides your two bodies across the dance floor, eyes never leaving your clumsy frame. When he suddenly takes your other hand and spins you across his chest, you trip. Renjun catches you, steadying your body by wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting that -”

“No worries,” he replies, letting go of your shoulders and finding his place back to the front of the room. You catch sight of your flushed face before walking back to Jaemin, cowering into yourself.

“Shut up.” His grin only grows wider, offering you his hand as Renjun continues with the class.

“I didn’t even say anything.”

When the class finally comes to an end, you feel a great weight lift off your shoulders. Sure, the memories of today will probably haunt you late in the night when you try to fall asleep, but at least the worst was over and Yejun would pay you back generously. The rest of the class trickles out of the studio; you stand awkwardly by the mirror, Yejun lingering by Jeno’s side, who’s already falling into friendly conversation with Jaemin and Renjun.

You probably looked like a child patiently waiting for your mom to stop talking to the friend she met at the grocery store with your hair disheveled, haphazardly hanging onto your bag as you awkwardly scratched at your elbow with your free hand. Their laughter echoes into the studio, Jaemin reminiscing some story about him and a boy named Chenle. But you don’t pay them any mind, thoughts wandering, tiredness starting to take over.

“ - right, Y/N?” You jolt awake. Mouth agape and clearly lost, you turn to Yejun with a questioning look on your face. Your confusion is further fueled by the apprehension of hers.

“Sorry, what was that?” you blink, scratching your head.

Jeno chuckles before saying, “You’ll join us for the next class, right?”

“Next…class?” your eyes shoot to Yejun, who tries her best to avoid your gaze. “What next class?”

Jaemin is the one to laugh this time, coming up to you and placing an arm over your shoulder. “Come on, are you seriously abandoning me after one class together?”

Jaemin and Jeno wait patiently for your answer, Renjun standing tall behind them. Realization dawns over you and you turn to Yejun, who’s simply smiling sympathetically your way. You’d love nothing more than to say no, but the expectant look on Jaemin’s kind face gnaws at your conscience. So, with great hesitation, you simply say, “Sure!”

Working at The Buns and Burner is both a delight and a pain in the ass. It was a dainty little bakery with laboratory-themed decoration and pastry designs. You could admit your favorite was the Erlenmeyer flask-designed sugar cookies. For both its aesthetic and taste. Yejun would argue that the colorful tea served in Florence flasks was the best part.

But while being enveloped by the smell of freshly baked goodies and getting to take home extra pastries free of charge every night could never get old, rush hour could.

Having the bakery situated just near campus, meant that it became a hotspot for professors and students alike to grab their quick fixes before running off to whatever lecture or meeting they needed to be in. It meant two things: the little shop was making good money on the regular; and every noon on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays you barely had time to sit down before rashes started forming on the heels of your feet.

Today, you shared the shift with Yejun and Mark, a schoolmate you’ve shared a few general courses with at the beginning of the school year. Admittedly, stressful days on the job were dampened by the presence of the brazen and laughable boy.

“If someone asks if we still have croissants when there’s obviously a sign that says we don’t, I’m gonna lose it,” he huffs, balancing empty trays in his arms.

“Do we still have croissants?” you call out, smirking when he glares at you.

“Give him a break. He was too busy flirting with that freshman to care about taking inventory, right?” Yejun chimes in from the baskets of baguettes.

Mark audibly flounders from the back. “I wasn't flirting!” Yejun turns to you, rolling her eyes.

“No, he's right. Because flirting usually ends up with the person being flirted with giving their number or something. All the freshman did was run away,” you add, chuckling to yourself.

Mark emerges from the stock room, ears red and sporting a pout. “You guys are being extra mean today.”

“Occupational hazard,” your roommate jokes.

You open your mouth to continue teasing the boy whose ears have turned two shades redder in the last 30 seconds when the familiar chiming of the bell signals to you that a customer’s arrived.

Straightening up, you put on your best smile - the kind you use with the elderly and annoying soccer moms - and make your way to the front of the store. “Welcome to The Buns and Burner, where all our buns are always fresh out of the burner, how may I help you?”

The last person you expect to see as you look up is Renjun. Another cap covers his mop of hair, but today he wears something more casual with a pair of glasses framing his face. His eyebrows are raised in surprise and you falter, grin dropping slightly before he waves at you with a kind smile.

“Hello,” he greets.

“Hi,” you greet back. For some reason, your mind goes blank. So, you wait for him to speak again. And he decides to do the same. You two spend a moment too long in awkward silence and you're forced to go, “Umm, bread?”

Renjun chuckles. “Yeah, bread.”

You nod, leading the way to the row of freshly baked goods and pastries. Yejun spots the two of you, raising an eyebrow but you simply wave her off. He looks over the goodies with a contemplative look on his face, the mingling of different aromas making it harder for him to choose.

“What do you recommend?” He suddenly turns to you, looking down at your frazzled face.

“Oh, well, garlic bread is always a classic.” He hums in agreement. “But sometimes it makes your breath stink.”

“That is a strong argument against garlic bread,” he jokes, craning his head to check the labels.

“We have sandwiches up in the front if ever that's what you're up for.”

“I was hoping for a simple croissant -”

“We don't have those,” you rush. He shifts his head to you, brows knitted. “Right now. We don't have them right now, but you can always come back next time.”

“Next time.” Renjun repeats, pressing his lips in a tight smile. “Sandwich it is.”

He leaves shortly after you ring him up and almost immediately, Yejun slides across the counter, ready to interrogate you. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

She lifts a palm, gesturing towards you as if that was enough of an explanation. “That!”

“I was just helping him,” you defend, tugging at your apron.

She scoffs, flipping her hair. “It looked like you needed help. It took everything in me not to save you from yourself!”

You stammered, heat creeping up your neck. “I didn't need help.”

“Baby, you did. I'm surprised Renjun didn't catch on.”

You back away from the counter, wanting to escape the conversation. “We're not here to joke around right now.”

Mark stands by the side with his arms crossed and the loudest laugh coming out of his mouth. If he weren't a good friend, you would have probably socked him.

“What was that you said about being bad at flirting?” he questions, mockingly bringing a finger up to his lip. So, you grab a stale piece of a baguette and chuck it over to him, smacking him straight on the nose.

Yejun doesn’t drop the conversation, taking any and every chance to tease you regardless of who else was around. Every moment she spent hinting at your awkward encounter with Renjun, it seemed as if your head was seconds away from exploding.

Thankfully, she spared you once you two found yourselves back in the dance studio, Jeno and Jaemin already waiting. Your body tenses when you notice that Renjun was also already there - a silent pep talk all you could give yourself before making your way to them.

Miraculously, Renjun didn't grill your dancing as much as he did the last time. Truth be told, you weren't sure if you were more relieved because you didn't have to be babied in front of everyone else or because you didn't have to come close to him again after the encounter at the bakery. That and the fact that he was looking incredibly attractive today.

The air conditioning had broken down in the morning, disgruntled faces complaining at any moment about the heat of the room. On the other hand, you were definitely not staring at the way Renjun’s Dri-FIT shirt had clung onto the crevices and curves of his body. You were definitely not distracted by the way he constantly ran his lithe fingers through his hair during the class, exposing his forehead as he slicked his bangs back. You were definitely not staring at his flushed face and exposed collarbones post-dance class, the loose shirt he’d just changed into exposing the skin of his chest.

You didn’t think it was possible for someone to still look so alluring even in the most displeasing situations. Yet, there he stood flushed pink and a bright smile adorning his face when he'd notice the class catching up. Next to you, he looked like he’d just walked out of a sports magazine. The bleach-stained shorts and messily-done ponytail did very little to make you feel confident. But before you know it, the class breezes by in a blur of Renjun’s meticulous counting and Jaemin’s jokes. You thought you’d escaped the worst of it when Jeno suddenly calls your name.

“Come over here,” he calls out, bodies slowly starting to flow out of the humid dance studio.

“Yeah?” you ask, hooking your bag over your shoulder. Renjun sees you first, offering you a shy smile that you return.

“Are you free later tonight?” Yejun asks, arm clinging onto you so you don’t escape.

“Yeah,” you reply confusedly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Great! I'm gonna have a small dinner tonight, it’s gonna be at The Midnight Bistro. Just wanted to ask if you can come?” Jeno asks, an expectant smile on his face.

“I don’t want to feel like I’m intruding,” you begin to protest, raising a hand and awkwardly smiling.

“Nonsense! You aren’t. Renjun and Jaemin are tagging along; plus, you need that pre-finals breather. Right?” Yejun asks you, nudging you slightly.

“I mean...if Renjun and Jaemin don't mind.”

“Of course I don't,” Jaemin immediately exclaims. Everyone else turns to the shorter boy, awaiting his response.

“No...no. Of course not, you’re welcomed there,” he speaks shyly, fumbling with the hem of his shirt. “I’ll even keep you company for the night.”

Renjun blushes. This time, it's his turn to stagger over his words.

“That’s not what I meant! Like, if you’re lonely...not that you would be lonely because people would like for you to be there, which is why we’re inviting you, but if no one talks to you, you can always talk to me - but I highly doubt no one would want to talk to you because you…,” he falters, gesturing over at you. The others watch over your little exchange in amusement.

His cheeks go impossibly redder. You smile in reassurance. “I’ll be there.”

The Midnight Bistro is a fancy little restaurant atop one of the highest buildings in the city. Unironically, it was one of those spots you would find wannabe hipsters crowded in and fighting over bitcoin and which Indie artist was more underground than the last.

It was a miracle Jeno even got to book a spot on a weekend, but you supposed it was gonna be jam packed either way. The rest of the group was already there. Having been left behind to deal with schoolwork, you were already rushing to find a parking spot.

7:28. You were half an hour late. Grabbing the bottle of wine you bought as a thank you gift on the passenger seat, you quickly make your way into the building and into the elevators.

“Hold the doors!” A voice says just as the elevator nearly closes. Leaping forward, you press onto the button, the doors sliding back to reveal Renjun. In a white turtleneck and suit jacket, hair pushed back. “Hello,” he cheerily greets, adjusting the front of his jacket.

As soon as the elevator doors close, his scent fills the air. You didn't mean to be creepy but when his shampoo smells like mint and his perfume boasted notes of wood sage and sea salt, it was hard not to lean forward to catch a whiff. But you weren't creepy.

Stepping back, you greet him back with a small “how are you?”

“Good,” he says, looking over at you. Spotting the bottle in your hands, he looks down at his empty arms and chuckles. “I sort of feel bad I don’t have a present with me.”

“It’s okay,” you mumble. “I just figured I'd bring this since the wine options up there might cost more than my monthly rent,” you attempt to joke. It works, Renjun laughing lightly as his eyes move to your face.

“I'm sure Jeno wouldn't mind splurging a bit tonight.” There's a pause and you wish you were better at keeping conversations. Just when you think the rest of the ride would be in silence, he adds -

“If you’re still up for it, I’d be happy to keep you company tonight.”

Your hands go clammy, slipping over the smooth surface of the wine bottle. The elevator was taking awfully long getting up the floors. Just fifteen more floors.

“What got you into dancing?” Renjun’s eyes widen, not expecting the sudden probing into his life.

Fourteen more floors. “Well, my mom was also a dancer and as a kid I joined her classes a lot and I guess it just...stuck with me, you know?”

You nearly giggle at the image of a little toddler version of Renjun dancing along to his mother, a giddy feeling enveloping you at how cute that would’ve looked. “Why Latin dance?”

“Picked it up when I moved here and loved it ever since. But I do other genres, too. You can just ask me if you'd like to join some of those classes too,” he says carefully, looking over at you.

Eleven floors. Eleven more floors and you were running out of questions already. Can this elevator go any slower?

“Thoughts on my classes?” he playfully asks, elbowing you. “You seem pretty out of it sometimes.” There’s a pout on his lips when he says this. In the background, you hear the music playing low. For some reason, the elevator doesn’t stop on any floors.

“They’re fun! I’m just inexperienced,” you reason out, shrugging your shoulders. Nine more floors. “But I guess that’s okay because I have a really good teacher.”

Renjun chuckles, looking down at his shoes as a blush makes its way onto his face. “What do you study?” you add.

“I'm from the Fine Arts department,” he says proudly, puffing out his chest. “You?”

“Oh, me? Pfft,” you wave him off. “Plain, old Social Sciences department.”

“I’m sure there’s something fun with that department!”

“Like what?”

He breathes in deeply, lips pursing as he goes deep in thought. “You’re right, I have nothing.”

Laughter fills the small cube and you playfully nudge him with your shoulder. “Writing a bunch of essays all the time is fun, but that’s about it.”

“Does The Buns and Burner offer a grand escape from essays,” he asks, smirking. “What was the tagline? ‘Our buns are always fresh from the burner’?”

“Oh, gosh,” you blurt, covering your face. “That was my idea, but it was a joke - I didn't think they'd actually make me use it!”

“I think it's quite cute. Except that you guys didn't have croissants.”

You playfully roll your eyes. “I'll save some just for you next time.”

“You know, if ever you get tired of all the buns and burners, we actually have an opening in the studio. Maybe you’d be interested in it?”

Raising an eyebrow, you look up at him. Under the dim lights, you see a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What’s it for?”

“Freestyle dance,” he jokingly says, waving his arms around. You throw your head back and laugh, lifting an arm to playfully hit his shoulder.

“I can’t be that bad,” you say defensively.

“I’ve handled worse,” he says with a smirk.

“Thank you, what a lovely compliment.”

Suddenly Renjun shifts, leaning against the railing of the elevator and looks down at you with a soft smile. A lock of hair falls onto his face. Before you could stop yourself, you lean forward and bring a hand up to delicately push it back in place. Your hand grazes his cheek as he tilts his head to the side, looking at you with amusement.

He opens his mouth to say something, but before he could get the words out a loud ding sounds from the speakers and the doors open. A wall of bodies flows before the two of you in an endless sea of suits and cocktail dresses.

Quickly, you bring your hand down as if you’d just touched a burning stove. Renjun places his palm on the small of your back, pushing you forward and out into the restaurant.

Maybe it would’ve been better if the elevator went a little slower.

The next class wasn’t as dreadful as the others before it. In fact, it was the complete opposite - although at the expense of not being able to concentrate right.

Renjun kept to his word that night at The Midnight Bistro. Superglued to each other, you had your own little world amidst the chatter and sound of traffic down below. And when the flutes of champagne piled onto the glass topped table, bubbled in your tummy and made your laugh just a little more carefree, your attention was only on him.

An endless blanket of deep blue hung over you that night, bright stars winking while the moon shone bright in the sky. Funnily enough, the only space left when you arrived was the loveseat.

It was so easy for you both to just get lost in each other. The alcohol brought a buzz that pulled out a side of you you hadn't seen before - a side that clung close to him even before Yejun’s teasing gaze.

He laughed and he shared and he reminisced and he listened. Renjun listened with so much intent when it was your turn to speak. You talked about just how much the night afforded you. Running through your early college life, your family, your dreams and hopes, and whatever else he would ask. That night, with his jacket hung loosely around your shoulders to keep you from shivering, any speck of awkwardness melted away.

And every detail seemed to have engraved itself into your mind. The way his eyes sparkled in the candlelight; how full his cheeks would go with every bolstering bout of laughter; the birthmark on his right hand that he flaunted to you before you ran a careful finger across it; even his arm dangling haphazardly behind you, toying with the tips of your hair.

Now, without the liquid encouragement, the girl you were nights ago seemed like a fever dream.

Throughout the class, it was an impossible task to keep up with the counting when you’d catch Renjun looking over at you through the mirror in the corner of your eye. You tried your best to reel yourself back in, especially for Jaemin’s sake, but Renjun’s gaze was enough to make you want to cower into yourself.

While practicing a particularly difficult portion of the routine, you couldn’t help but let out a series of frustrated sighs. The footwork was difficult and your feet were behaving very un-feet like today.

“Is it right over left, then step forward and left over right, spin?” you ask Jaemin helplessly.

“It’s sort of like this,” he says, casually doing the steps like he’s had them memorized all his life.

Amidst your troubled state, you try to move your feet just like his but only end up looking even messier. Then, a pair of hands land on your hips. You think it’s Jaemin, but when you suddenly look up and the top of your head bumps onto someone’s chin, a groan erupts that is definitely not from Jaemin.

“Renjun, I’m so sorry!”

“I didn’t think I scared you that much,” he says through a pained laugh. “I’m fine. Here, let me help you.” And just like the first time, he guides you through the steps with your gaze at the mirror and his hand resting on your hip. Except this time, there’s an encouraging smile on his face.

“Pause at count 8. Now, just move your hips side-to-side for 4 counts.”

“I don’t know if I’m gyrating my hips right…,” you mumble, rather lamely.

“I’m gonna hold you here again, okay?” he asks. At your nod, he firmly holds onto your waist. Squaring your hips, he starts moving you around to get you familiar with the feeling. When your body flows on its own, his hands go up to shift your shoulders and straighten your back.

Your head was spinning. It’s not because of the movements of your body or the fact that eyes are now once again on you. It was the cheeky, playful, dazzling smile that he flashed your way from the mirror that made you go dizzy.

Yejun was a little surprised that she didn't need to get on her knees to bring you to more classes. Even more surprised whenever she’d see you patiently waiting for her on the couch, already dressed up and ready to go like an overzealous toddler on her way to the park.

Over time, it became you who had to tug her out of the apartment and into the studio. Although, she didn’t have the heart to tell you Jeno had already asked her out, rendering their trips to Renjun’s class unnecessary - but it was fun watching you pine over the guy.

She definitely wasn’t complaining when you’d accompany her to shifts at The Buns and Burner, making her work less of a hassle and more of a joy especially when Renjun would make short daily trips and you’d end up stumbling over your words whenever you’d explain the preparation differences between èclairs, cream puffs, and macarons.

“Just ask Renjun out,” Yejun says casually.

“Are you crazy? This isn’t a Step-Up movie, he’s not gonna love me just because I pulled some dance moves,” you harshly whisper, working quickly to restock the shelves of bread before lunch.

“No one said anything about love,” she slyly remarks. “I saw the way you guys were cuddling with each other at the Bistro. And at classes too! If you’re not gonna ask him out soon, he’s gonna think you’re not interested.”

“How do I even know he’s interested in me?”

She pauses to look up from the cashier, looking at you quizzically. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You’re so dense sometimes, no wonder you’re single.”

With a sigh, you toe at the carpet below you, sticking out your tongue playfully. “I should’ve stayed home if all you're gonna do is interrogate me.”

“Interrogating is different from encouraging, get your head right,” she starts with a smirk, “unless all you're thinking about is Renjun, then be my guest.”

Quickly, you move away from her judgemental stare. Yejun’s impish brown eyes follow you. “We’re supposed to be working, now if you’ll excuse me.”

Retreating behind the shelf of loaf bread, you let out a sigh. Yejun’s words circle your mind, stomach churning at the thought of your fledging of a crush. Realistically, it wasn’t love with Renjun, but it was something you hadn’t felt in such a long time. And like anything novel, it was strange and indecipherable.

Mindlessly, you shove pastries into their designated trays. Maybe Yejun was right. It had been so long since anybody made you feel this way, so perhaps it was time to take it as a sign that it was time to put yourself out there again. But you were the last person who could be trusted with dating.

“What am I supposed to say?” you wonder aloud, nibbling at your bottom lip. “‘Hey! I really like how you dance, wanna go on a date? Here’s a croissant’ No - what the hell?” you chastise yourself, shaking your head. “‘Remember when you had to hold onto me because I couldn’t get the moves right? Yeah, that lowkey made me like you -’ what am I doing?”

Suddenly, the familiar bell rings and you reflexively look up at the wall clock. 11:48. Silently, you thank yourself for packing an extra pair of band aids this shift. “Welcome to The Buns and Burner, where -”

“ - all our buns are always fresh out of the burner,” Renjun finishes playfully, hands tucked in his pockets as he looks at you, a grin tugging at his lips. “Can you help me?”

His perfume overpowers the sweet aroma of the custard puffs in your hands and you hesitate for a moment. Sunlight filters through the warm tinted windows, a golden hue outlining his slender physique. Looking over your shoulder, you’d hope to see Yejun but her missing figure only provokes a stirring in your chest.

“Sure,” you whisper, feet taking you closer to him.

“I see you guys still have croissants,” he remarks, pointing over the steaming batch.

“Fresh out of the burners,” you laugh. “But we have other goodies; maybe you’re getting sick of croissants.”

“Indulge me,” he smiles, turning to you.

And you do. There’s a comfortable lull to the conversation as you make your way around the shelves, his eyes never leaving you even when you get overenthusiastic over some of the recipes you’d helped develop.

Silently, he listens, taking note of your favorite pastries; the ones you’d talk about with a wide grin on your face; and, somehow, you’d venture into talking about each other as he stood by the counter with two loaves of bread in his arms and a basket of biscuits below him. He looked quite comical - eyebrows furrowed, calculating just how he’ll be able to consume all of this before they went bad.

“I think this is enough to last for the rest of the week,” you joke.

“Trust me, with Jeno and Jaemin around I’ll be surprised if this even lasts two days.”

“We have brownies, if ever you're looking for something sweet. I think a batch of cookies is finishing up in the back right now if you're not in a rush,” you offer kindly, about to pivot on your heel to retrieve the desserts.

“Are you just trying to make me stay longer?”

Renjun’s eyes widen. He didn’t mean to say it out loud, but there was no use escaping now that the words hung heavily in the air. When you remain silent, he shakes himself out of his reverie, reaching behind him for some money.

“Maybe,” you finally answer. It’s difficult to hold back the shy smile threatening to break across your lips, so you don’t.

Renjun reaches forward, offering you a crisp bill. Your hands momentarily brush against each other, skin igniting with his touch. He nods, chewing on his lower lip. “Just so you know, I’d stay even without the cookies.”

You lamely blink up at him, fighting down the elated butterflies fluttering in your tummy.

Suddenly, a thump sounds from behind you. Turning around, you catch Yejun quickly bolting back into the back, her giggles fading the farther away she got.

“I’ll see you next class?” he questions hopefully, slowly backing away.

“Of course,” you reply curtly. Renjun continues to bob his head, even as he backs into a shelf of pies and tarts. You gasp, worry creasing your forehead.

“Sorry,” he laughs out, steadying himself. “I also like tarts.” It comes out so awkward and when he looks up, a shadow of embarrassment flashes across his dark eyes. “I'll go now.”

“I'll see you soon,” you wave, voice soft. Yejun peaks her head from the back again, laughing at the way you bounced on the balls of your feet. She doesn’t notice the smell of burning sugar - not until the smoke detector suddenly goes off.

“Yejun!” She disappears once more to the back, fanning at the oven.

“Sorry!”

You didn't know what to expect with the next dance class. Actually, you sort of did. Given that it had already been a couple of weeks and the routine was just about finished, Renjun was intent on cleaning up the entire dance. You were happy because 1. That meant no more new steps to learn; and 2. Getting to see him again.

What you weren't expecting was to find a new face in the studio. A woman, dancing along Renjun as you all filed into the room. They seemed close. And she was very pretty.

Her long hair cascaded down the smooth expanse of her back and you could swear you'd never seen teeth so straight as she flashed you all a welcoming smile. Bright eyes scanned the room, a blush on her cheeks that made her look all the more friendly. Reflexively, you look into the mirror and catch the reflection of your torn up t-shirt and washed out sweatpants.

Pushing down the jealousy aside, you will yourself to pay it no mind. You can't be jealous, you have no right to be jealous. Renjun wasn't your boyfriend. You weren't his girlfriend. He just liked to stop by the bakery all the time and crack jokes with you, but that virtually meant nothing.

“Time to clean everything up. This is my partner, Minji,” Renjun says, pointing over at her, his eyes squinting as he smiles. “We don’t have all day, so let’s get started.”

This wasn’t normal. No longer were you the rational, level-headed person you often were. Every single thing Renjun did with Minji, you watched and theorized what could possibly be the meaning behind it. Grazed his hand over her arm? They must be in love. Patted her on the back after running through the routine. They must be in love. Laughing at her jokes? They have to be in love. You would be lying if it didn’t make you pause on the spot and wonder if you were the funnier one compared to her.

Compared to her?

No, you were not insecure, thank you very much. It was just a curious case of trying to get to know a person without actually talking to them. Besides, there was nothing between you two. There were no whispered agreements or promises. He was not liable to the thoughts you tried so desperately to silence and he was definitely not liable to your assumption that he liked you back.

But shaking your thoughts away did little to get you to focus, always creeping back into the forefront of your mind moments later. If you weren’t trying your hardest to reel yourself back in, you would’ve spent the entire practice messing up just so Renjun had a reason to come up to you, but the thought of kicking Jaemin’s shins and elbowing him in the face on purpose was too cruel.

Unless -

“That’s it for today, thank you!” Renjun calls out, waving at the class with his boyish grin. Before you can walk away, Renjun is already making a beeline for you and as he clasps his hand in yours, the looming questions cease. “Hey, you,” he says, bringing a hand up to pat the crown of your head “Tired?”

Behind him, you catch a glimpse of Minji talking to Yejun and even your own friend seemed just so enthralled by the long-haired beauty. Stepping back, you notice Renjun’s smile crack, but he’s quick to recover and dig into his pockets as he waits for your answer.

“I’m fine,” is all you say, a tight smile following your ambiguous answer. Why were you so pissed? You kept trying to repeat to yourself that he wasn’t your boyfriend. That you were acting like a pissy teen. But the way he cocks his head as if to say that you can trust him doesn’t help the surging of your emotions. “Just...school,” you add with an awkward laugh.

If he’s doubtful, he doesn’t show it. “Do you wanna have dinner together?” he says shyly, rubbing the nape of his neck.

“I can’t, homework,” you say apologetically. Although that was a lie, you didn't have any deadlines until next week.

“Tomorrow,” he says, just a little more optimistically.

“Studying.” Another lie.

“The next day?” he questions doubtfully.

“I...I’m sorry, I’m busy.” It was pathetic how hard you were trying to escape him, even when you knew he could see through your lies. But he takes them anyway, accepting them with a nod of his head.

You hear Yejun call your name. Minji is waiting patiently for Renjun by the mirror. “I have another class in a bit,” he explains, fixing the cap on his head. “Just text me when you’re free?” You quickly nod. He moves forward to hug you, but you quickly sidestep away.

Renjun doesn’t want to feel offended by what just happened, so he stands there in silence and waits until your form exits the room without a wave goodbye.

Guilt gnaws at you, but a realization presses even deeper. Renjun didn't like you. No, he couldn’t have. He was just being a nice person. He was just doing his job as a dance teacher.

The night air bites at your bones, its bitterness seeping through your jacket and making your nose go dry. Above you, the restaurant’s neon lights cast a sharp tinge of pink onto the pavement you tap your feet against anxiously.

Jaemin, Jeno, and Yejun are sitting in front of you, just finishing up their plates of dinner. The three noticed your change in mood back at the studio and agreed among themselves to take you out despite your protests. A full stomach, slice of cheesecake, and the first smile you cracked in the last 5 hours later, you were all ready to head back home.

“My button is hanging on for dear life,” Jaemin exclaims from beside you and the others chuckle as he rubs his belly languidly.

Silently, you thank the three of them for dragging your ass out otherwise you’d just end up wallowing in your bed. Above you, the sky dazzles full of stars and for a moment, you’re brought back to The Midnight Bistro.

"Why am I so pensive about him?” you wonder, fumbling with your fingers. You ruminate over the thought, flipping it over and over and over and over again only to find nothing underneath because there’s absolutely no way you can come up with any other explanation other than you’d hoped you’d get a chance with him.

It was silly how you collected his smiles, shared conversations, and kind eyes, wrapped it all together, placed a bow on top and called it a crush. Well, the class was coming to an end and as you observe the way Jeno and Yejun curved into each other with more than just friendliness, you smile. At least one of you got something out of dancing other than muscle pain.

The waiter places the bill presenter onto the deep, mahogany table and on instinct all four of you reach into your bags.

“I’m gonna need to eat ramen for a week after this,” Jeno laughs under his breath.

"Let me just remind you that the stash in the cabinet is mine, not yours,” Jaemin warns jokingly, pointedly looking over at the taller male.

You barely hear the playful banter that’s tossed between the two men as you pat over your bag and pockets, not feeling the familiar bump of the item you were looking for. Even when you dig a hand deep into your bag.

“You good?” Yejun asks, sensing your panic.

“Damn it, I can’t find my wallet,” you reply, getting up and rummaging through your backpack again.

“Where did you last leave it?” Jaemin asks, patting down his own pants in case he'd accidentally taken it.

“Obviously, she doesn’t know, dumbass,” Jeno retorts, lightly shoving him.

Recalling your previous steps, a vague memory of leaving it on the studio floor and never putting it back into your bag comes to mind. You sigh out, already getting up from your seat.

“I think I left it in the studio,” you admit, looking over at Yejun. “Can I pay you back tomorrow, I promise I won't forget,” you plead with an apologetic look.

She looks up at you with a smile, already handing the bill to the waiter. “Don't worry about it, just go get your wallet back before I change my mind.”

It was well past opening hours when you arrived back at the studio, the entryway already dim, not a person in sight. Making your way to the door, you're surprised to find it unlocked and you step in to look around for anyone who can help you.

Soft music plays in the background, coming from the familiar practice room you’d been using for the past few weeks. Peeking through the glass panel, you make out the familiar shape of your wallet on the ground and quickly step in to retrieve the lost item. But you didn't notice the other figure standing in the room until you're inside.

Renjun is situated in the middle of the studio, bobbing his head to the beat of the R&B song playing softly from the speakers. He doesn't notice you walk in. Definitely doesn't notice you as he lifts the end of his shirt up to his forehead and wipes away the sweat dripping across his hairline.

It's hard for you to look away as the low, warm studio lights shine against the skin of his torso, a sheen of sweat glistening against his chest, droplets trailing down his stomach as he breathes harshly from the routine he’d been practicing. Dropping his shirt, he brings his hands to push back his damp hair.

Your throat dries up, mind just trying to unpack what you just witnessed. But your feet are already moving, turning around to exit, wallet completely forgotten. Justifiably distracted, you don't notice just how close you are to the door and as you turned around, you collide with the glass, banging your head against the panel, startling Renjun.

“Who’s there?”

Without any means of escaping, you turn around. Ears and neck starting to heat up, you face him with an awkward smile. He returns your smile with a pensive one, an eyebrow raised.

Moments pass by in silence, Renjun still waiting for you to speak as you find your voice. “Can I ask what you're doing here?”

Opening your mouth, not the faintest sound comes out. Willing yourself to speak, you let out a small laugh, eyes looking around the room.

Wallet. You were here for the wallet.

Pointing towards the item, Renjun follows the direction of your finger and spots it immediately.

“That yours?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, walking towards the table, maintaining distance from your dance teacher lest you combust on the spot.

Mentally, you were kicking yourself. It was just skin. Everyone has skin. For God’s sake, you’ve been on multiple beach trips with your friends before and skin was all you saw!

You quickly stuff the item into your bag, scrambling for the door but just as you're about to make it out, he calls out for you. Freezing on the spot, you breathe in deeply.

“Get your shit together,” you think to yourself.

“Yes?” you reply waveringly, hands tight around the strap of your bag.

Leaning against the mirror, sharp jaw tilted and his eyes on you. He smiles knowingly - like he can read your mind and has known every single thought you had ever made about him. But then again, maybe it didn't take reading your thoughts to know what you felt about Renjun.

“Would you like to join me?”

“For...what?” you croak out, knees nearly giving in from under you.

Renjun is already walking towards you, clasping your hands in his and bringing you to the center of the studio. Shrugging off your bag and coat, he takes them in his arms before setting them aside. Next thing you know, a soft, sensual beat plays from the speakers. The music plays loudly enough that you can feel the floorboards below you vibrate with the bass. Renjun turns around, looking at you under hooded eyes.

You recognize the melodic hum from all the other songs he’s danced to and taught between classes. He wants to dance the Bachata.

“Join me?”

You let out yet another awkward laugh, backing away from him. “You know I can't dance,” you say defensively. But he shakes his head, smirking while he beckons at you with a finger.

“Bullshit, I've seen you,” he replies, moving forward. It isn't until your back collides with the cool surface of the mirror that Renjun traps your head between his hands, face inches away from yours. “Now, dance with me.”

Renjun’s hands move down to your sides as he looks at you, as if to ask permission. When you nod, he presses his fingers against the crevices of your hips, peeling you away from the mirror and against his firm chest.

You feel his breath against your neck as he moves your hair off your shoulder before sliding his hand down the small of your back. Your breath hitches, blinking up at him as he looks down at you with a glint in his eyes you can't quite name.

“The dance is pretty simple,” he lets out, fingers drumming against you. “Let me guide you?”

Not trusting your voice, you only nod.

“Just move like this with me.”

So, he leads the dance. With his hand pressed against your back, the other on your shoulder. He sways you back and forth, your feet suddenly having a mind of their own and moving with him - minus the stepping on his toes.

“Good, now you can try moving your hips.”

Gently, his hands find their place on your hips and guide them with the beat of the music and with his own body’s movements. His hands come up to lift your arms over your head before he smooths his palms down your back, a hand coming underneath your thigh to hike your leg over his waist. He dips you back slowly, taking his precious time bringing you back up as he traces his nose along the column of your neck.

“Wrap your arms around me.”

Like some spell, you follow his every instruction without question. You bring a hand against the damp crook of his neck. His skin is hot to the touch, your fingertips buzzing as you glide your arms over his neck and around his shoulders. Hesitant, you wait for him to lead the dance and as he steps forward, the hand on your hip pushes you back slightly, matching his movements. A lazy grin tugs at his lips.

Suddenly, he twirls you around, bringing your back flush against his chest. “Look at us through the mirror,” he commands teasingly.

Your reflections lock eyes with each other and for a split second you forget how to breathe. Renjun traces patterns across your stomach until his palm closes on your waist and he’s swaying you along with him, his nose digging into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning against your skin.

It’s so sensuous, so intimate, so unlike you. You barely recognize the way your body moves along with him and if it were anyone else, you’d already probably be running for the hills and blasting whatever noisy song you had onhand to erase the memory. But that wasn’t needed here; you'd very much like this memory to be burned into your mind.

Even as the song finally comes to an end, you don’t pull away. Renjun continues to sway you against him while you bring a hand up to cover his, intertwining his fingers with your own as he turns to face you. Renjun places his fingertips against your chin, resting his forehead against yours. Eyes locked, you see that same look from minutes ago.

“If you don't want me to, just tell me,” he whispers breathlessly, mere inches away from your face that the tips of your noses brush ever so gently. But you want him to. You've been wanting and hoping for it for so long. And when you lean it and capture his lips against yours, he doesn't hesitate to bring his hands against your back and push you flush against him.

Kissing Renjun is exactly what you imagined it would be. Sweat stains his lips salty but there's a hint of the taste of custard on his tongue - like the custard you gifted him the other day. He smells of wood sage and sea salt and burnt sugar and The Midnight Bistro.

A hand comes up to press against your neck, bringing you impossibly closer against him. It's soft and warm and gentle. Plump lips guiding you, dragging you into some trance. Next thing you know, he has you pinned against the mirror, his free hand now holding yours against the glass. The music drowns out the soft mewls and moans that escape your lips, and when he pulls back for air, your lips reach out for him.

“I know Jaemin is my friend but it really bugged me that he got to dance with you all the time,” he confesses, Adam’s apple bobbing.

You pause, suddenly remembering Minji. In the time that it took for you to recollect yourself, Renjun realizes just what was bothering you and he brings a hand to cup your cheek. “She’s just a friend. I wouldn’t spend all that money at The Buns and Burner if I didn’t want you to be more than.”

You gulp, mind racing. “Are you for real?" Instead of answering you, he presses his lips against yours. Heart thumping against your chest, your mind scrambles to keep up with his lips clashing against yours with so much intent.

“Where are you going after here?” he mumbles against you when he pulls back again. Renjun brings a thumb to trace your bruised lips, grazing over the smudged lipgloss.

“I was...I was just gonna head home,” you reply out of breath.

“Okay,” he states, the tip of his tongue darting out as he kisses his teeth. “You're coming home with me.”

In the comfort of Renjun’s apartment, your hands fumble against his, quickly making their way underneath his shirt and upwards, lifting up the black fabric over his head and tossing it towards the floor to join your own clothes. Fingertips lightly dance across the expanse of exposed skin, leaving a hot trail in its wake until all you feel are his hands on you. All you want to feel are his hands on you.

The room fills with hushed laughter as he makes his way down the sides of your waist - ticklish and delicate, they trace dainty patterns, goosebumps rising with every soft touch. Feverishly, he kisses you again, leaving little room between your bodies as he lays you against the plush pillows, mattress bouncing underneath you. Curling your fingers into his hair, you pull him in deeper, breathing him in at any moment, the light from the streetlamp bleeding through the curtains, glowing across his delicate skin.

“Renjun,” you moan into his neck, a soft whisper mingling together with his heavy breathing while his tongue, lips, fingers explore you, igniting a fire in the pit of your stomach that only grew with desire with every teasing pause he takes.

Renjun hums against your jaw, smiling to himself as he lightly trails the outline of your face with his lips. The air is so thick, so filled with lust that you’re sure you’re dreaming. This has to be a dream.

He brings a hand up to gently caress the side of your face, nuzzling his cheek against yours. Safe in the secrets of the dark, you allow him to lead you, play with you, tease you. It's so pathetic how easily you give into him, how easily he pulls moan after moan out of your lips as his hips collide with yours, skin burning against you. And when he pins your wrist against his pillow before snaking his fingers into yours, your mind only recalls his name. Just like in the studio, he leads with an air of dominance that has you lightheaded.

“So pretty like this,” he gasps, fingers digging into your hips, your nails pressing crescents into the smoothness of his back. Shadows dancing onto the surface of the wall, his lips close around yours and captures your every mewl, bringing you to a high that only leaves you begging for more.

Sealing the night with a kiss, he lays beside you, pulling your bare body into his chest as he plays with your hair. “Stay the night,” he whispers sleepily against your shoulder.

Too tired to protest, you nod, curling into him. Not that you’d have it any other way.

In the morning, when the sunlight seeps in and shines harshly against your eyelids, you reach out to a vacant bed, hand landing on messily strewed pillows. Rubbing your eyes, you try to make sense of where you are when the memories of last night all come flooding back.

As you're about to get up and hunt for your clothes, Renjun walks in with a cup of coffee and a plated pastry, his hair messy as he sports a cute smile.

“Good morning,” he greets, coming beside you and setting the mug down on the bedside table, a hand coming down to gently fix your bed head.

“Morning,” you let out with a raspy voice.

“I remember that trick you taught me to make old cream puffs taste fresh out of the oven and I wanted to try it,” he remarks, bringing the puff up to your lips. You take a bite, humming at the softness of the bread, filling melting on your tongue.

“Did I do good?” he asks curiously and smiles wide when you bring a thumb up.

“Good job!” you mumble. Renjun brings a hand up, wiping at the cream by your lips before sucking it off his fingers. You gulp. Instantaneously, you're hyper aware of your nakedness.

“This is not how I expected my Friday night to go.” you ponder out loud.

He smiles at you, leaning forward to plant a kiss against your lips. “I hope you still liked the unexpected turn of events.”

Humming, you wrap your hands around his neck, dragging him back into the sheets. “I'm not sure. Maybe a replay of what happened can refresh my memory.”

“Happy to comply,” he mumbles against your lips with a grin, coming under the covers with you.

To save you from the embarrassment of having your first walk of shame, Renjun accompanies you to your apartment. Coming home in a disheveled state has to be one of the most demeaning things to ever do, but there was a skip on your step as you walked into the complex, pinkies linked with him.

“You can come in if you’d like,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I’m afraid that if I do, we’ll just be in bed all day.”

“And you wouldn’t want that because…?”

Renjun tilts his head upwards, eyes closed as he feigns contemplation. “You’re right, there’s no argument here.”

In the quiet air of the early morning light, you were hoping you wouldn't be caught tiptoeing into your apartment. But Yejun was already in the kitchen, a robe wrapped tightly around her torso, her sleep-stricken face glaring at you.

“Where the hell were you?” she scolds, arms crossed over her chest.

“I was just out -”

“I've been trying to call you, but you wouldn't pick up. Imagine how worried I was!”

“I'm fine. See?” you twirl, showing her absolutely no damage to your body. “Perfectly fine.”

“Still, the least you could’ve done was call. I had to ring up Jaemin and Jeno last night to ask if they heard from you -” she suddenly pauses, the anger having fully woken her up, her vision clears now that her mind was no longer clouded with alarm and sleep. She spots the purple bruise on your neck. When you take notice of her gaze, you bring a hand up to cover the hickey, cheeks flaring up.

As if on cue, Renjun rounds the corner and smiles boyishly at your roommate.

Before you can stop her, she screams: “OH SHIT!”

“Shut up!”

“You guys slept together!” she shrieks loud enough to awake the rest of the floor. Maybe the entire building. “You guys slept together,” she sing-songs giddily, dancing around in the kitchen.

Shoving him towards your bedroom, Yejun’s teasing continues to echo even as you slam your door shut. Renjun doesn’t seem to mind, giggling as he lays you onto your familiar covers. He places soft pecks against the crown of your head while you two doze into a deep slumber, a smile etched on your face.

Thank you so much for reading this fanfiction! I hope you enjoyed it just as much as I enjoyed writing it. Don't be afraid to send in critique or comments, it's my biggest motivation to keep writing these stories. 💖

#nctcreations #kdiarynet #kpopscape #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct fluff #nct smut #nct angst #nct renjun #renjun fluff #renjun smut #renjun angst #renjun imagines #huang renjun imagines

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chocochannel · 2 years

Text

State of Grace - Chapter 1

Pairing: Sunghoon x G/N!Reader

Synopsis: After many years spent in studying and extracurriculars, you finally manage to fulfill your dream to study in one of the best private universities in the world, located in Paris, France. However, unlike the other students here, your tuition is fully paid with your scholarship. Stumbling upon snobby and pretentious classmates that have spent thousands of dollars for private lessons, the atmosphere becomes very tense, especially with one of the top students in the university, Park Sunghoon.

Genres: Private University in France AU, Enemies to Lovers, Academic Rivals

Taglist: (Opened), @cyuuupid

Word Count: 835 words

A/N: Guys, I am so excited to finally share with you the first chapter of my first ever story! I would like to say in advance that i plan to make this a long story, therefore the drama between the reader and sunghoon won't be immediate. Hope you enjoy this chapter and I will be posting the next one soon!

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It was Saturday morning and the sun rays glimmered through the open window in your bedroom. Although it was the end of summer, the weather was still warm. Being awoken by the morning light, you took a long yawn and eventually got up. You picked up your phone and caught a glimpse at the time – it was 9:00 and you had exactly 2 hours before you had to head to the airport. Fortunately you had packed your stuff the day before so this was off your to-do list. Now you only needed to get ready and eat something so you didn’t starve during the day. After finishing with these mundane tasks, it was finally time for the excitement to come through. Tomorrow would be your first day at Enchanted University. You had dreamt of this moment for so long and now it was finally around the corner. You had worked so hard to get into this prestigious university and everyone knew that – your family, your friends and even your teachers. You felt a sense of pride now that your work had paid off. Moving on…You were finally dressed up and headed out the door.

You were at the airport now and your family and friends were all here to see you off. After saying goodbye to everyone and promising to call them everyday, it was time to get on the plane. You found your place there and got ready for a long flight. Putting your favourite song on and snuggling in a cosy blanket you dosed off, awaiting the start of a new chapter in your life…

Standing in front of the campus, you suddenly felt small. The building was enormous and almost resembled an old castle. The courtyard was filled with students and you felt lost in such a big crowd. With no other option then to continue walking, you headed straight towards the big building. After a while, you managed to reach the entrance to the main hall of the university. After getting your documents checked at the reception, you now had to head to your newly assigned dorm. You had already been informed that you would share a triple-bed apartment with someone else, therefore you were feeling nervous to see who you would be living with for the rest of the semester. After walking for what seemed like a really long period of time, you finally arrived in front of the apartment’s front door. Even by the look of the exterior, the place seemed quite fancy. The excitement and nervousness took over your whole body as you proceeded to enter inside.

When you opened the door, you immediately spotted someone. There was a tall pretty girl, dressed in sportswear. She was surrounded by various athletic equipment and she was stretching in front of a big TV. She didn’t notice you for a while, but the moment she caught a glimpse of you entering the dorm, she suddenly got startled and fell over.

“I’m so sorry for scaring you.” – you said nervously.

“Don’t worry. It was my fault for getting distracted” – the girl reassured you and got up. “I am Kazuha, nice to meet you!” – she smiled brightly and shook your hand.

“I am Y/N. Nice to meet you too. Sorry for disturbing your workout.” – you replied and smiled back.

“It’s alright. I was just doing a post-workout stretch as I just got back from my ballet lessons.” – she mentioned.

“Oh so you do ballet? That’s so cool!” – you were genuinely surprised from this fact.

“Oh thanks, I am doing an art degree in dancing here. And by the way, you can just call me Zuha. We will be living together for a while and I can’t wait to get to know my roommates!” – she said excitedly. She seemed really cheerful and she always had a bright smile on her face.

“Honestly same! And to be honest I am really relieved after I met you. I still haven’t seen our other roommate though. Have you seen them yet?” – you asked Kazuha.

“I haven’t met them yet, but as far as I know they are a fashion major. It will probably be fun to live with such a cool person! Actually, now that I have mentioned that, I forgot to ask what are you majoring in?”

“Well I am studying law here.” – you replied

“ Wow, you must be really ambitious then! I think it will be a great year for the three of us!” – Kazuha was really positive. She reminded you of a sunshine.

“I am glad to meet you, but I have to unpack my luggage now. I will let you finish your stretch and we can talk some more after, if u want.” – you suggested.

“Of course! I will be waiting.” – she said and then got back to doing her exercises.

It seemed that your roommates weren’t as scary as you had thought they would be. Well, at least one of them wasn’t. You still hadn’t met the other one, therefore you were still feeling nervous...

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lizamango · 3 years

Text

You Promised (Tommy Shelby x Fem! Reader)

A/N: just started watching Peaky Blinders a week or so ago and I got inspired. Set season 2 ep 6

Summary: Tommy promised that you would never have to use your body for a man ever again. He lied and it hurt.

Warnings: sleazy soldier, attempted SA, cussing

Word count: 1,048

Masterlist

It’s the Epsom Races on Derby Day and Tommy had asked you to be escorted by Jeremiah. You wore your best gold dress with a lace trim, thinking Tommy finally manned up and asked you to be his date to such a prestigious event. Gone were the days when he would fuck you over his desk to get the thoughts of Grace out of his head as he worked late.

You walk up the steps of the entrance and see Tommy pacing, a cigarette placed on his lips.

“What do you think?” you ask him with an excited smile.

“About what, love?” he asks cluelessly.

“The dress,” you state, giving him a twirl.

He looks you up and down and dumps his cigarette on the ground, clearing his throat. “I need you to undo two of those buttons, Y/N,” he asks although you know you have no choice.

You do as he says, revealing more cleavage than you would have liked and follow him as he walks off. He brings you to a drawing room which had a fountain in the centre.

You marvel at it and laugh at the utter pretentiousness. “Never thought I’d make it into a place like this without being questioned on my intentions.”

He hums in response which causes you to raise a brow at his quietness.

“Am I here to work or for pleasure, Tommy?” You ask, wanting some clarification but hoping he says the latter.

“Business,” he says in a serious tone.

You pretend not to be disappointed.

“There’s a man here…” as he says it you already know what he is asking of you - no, ordering you. You start to shake your head. “I need him separated from the crowd and taken to a quiet place.”

“No,” you whisper, more to yourself than Tommy.

“I know what I said, Y/N-“

You scoff, cutting him off. “You promised. You promised me once I worked for you I wouldn’t have to do anything like that anymore. You said that. You promised that.”

He nods his head, not meeting your eyes as you speak. “It won’t be that… I just need you to isolate him, is all.”

“But you want me to show off my body. Because that’s all I’m good for, isn’t it?”

“You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

“You told me no exceptions…” you trail off, quietly.

He puts a piece of paper down between the two of you. “I drew a map, Y/N.” He says your name to catch your attention as you look away from him. “Take him to the place marked with an x, alright? I’ll find you before anything can happen, I promise..”

“Oh please,” you say sharply. “We both know that word means shit to you, Thomas.”

“This is the only time. I just need you to do this, for me. Just once, love.”

“Don’t call me that. Not now, not ever again.”

He nods at your request as he lights a cigarette.

“No exceptions wasn’t hard at all…” you start. “Do you know why?”

He looks at you intently with blue piercing eyes that make your chest feel heavy. “Why?” he asks.

“It doesn’t matter, anymore.”

“Y/N-“ he starts.

“Who is it?

“To your right. Soldier. Smoking a cigarette. Just be alone with him at three, when the race starts. I’ll get to you then. Okay?”

“I need a piece of chalk…”

“Chalk?”

“It’s how soldiers know - it doesn’t matter just give me the fucking chalk,” you snap impatiently and he forgives you because he hates that he’s asking this of you. “They’re rough you know. Savage. I don’t like taking them, I let the other girls do it. The ones that are okay with it. I hate it. I don’t feel safe when it’s with them…” you tell him.

“It’s gonna be alright, Y/N. I’ll get to you, I will. You’ll be safe, eh.”

Tommy leaves you to do your work and you unbuckle your shoe, placing it on your lap and writing down a realistic rate. You let the shoe dangle on your toes and show him. An unspoken conversation occurs as he glances down and nods at you. You smile flirtatiously and walk out of the room. The time is approaching three as the commentator announces the start of the race.

“You’re a stunner you are, sweetheart,” the drunk soldier slurs.

“Thank you, sir,” you reply, playing into the role that used to be your life.

“You’d look even better with your clothes off, what d’ya say?” He says, smoothing your hair.

“Why don’t we just get to know each other first?” You offer, buying time.

He tightens his grip in your hair, making you suppress a whimper. “I ain’t payin’ your hour rate to just talk, love.”

You flinch at his use of that term as Tommy did.

“Now take that dress off before I rip it off youse.”

“Russell!” Tommy enters with a gun pointed at the soldier. The gun fires and the soldier falls to the ground at your feet. “Fuck, Y/N.” He walks up to you, placing his hands on the sides of your face. “I’m sorry, I’m fucking sorry.”

“You got here.”

“I did, I did.” He kisses the top of your head.

“You promised,” you whisper.

“I did.”

“Never again, Thomas. Please.”

“Never again, Y/N,” he confirms. “Now let’s get out of here, alright. C’mon.” He buttons up your dress and wraps an arm around you, walking you out.

“Just play along alright, Y/N.” You pass by two officers and Tommy stops you both. “Officers, we were just taking a moment in the comfort rooms and heard gunshots and we heard voices - Irish voices. I swear to God there’s a dead officer in one’a them rooms!” He says frantically, pointing in the direction you came.

“It’s true, it’s absolutely vile!” You put on an exaggerated snooty accent and the officers start to take action.

Tommy leads you two to back to the drawing room and sits you down at the bar.

“I’m sorry I made you go through that, Y/N.”

“It was for the family wasn’t it? The Peaky fuckin’ Blinders,” you mock how they say it.

“It was for us. You’re family too.”

💖

Hope this was okay, I kinda just started writing it haha

Happy Holidays everyone!

#Tommy shelby #thomas shelby #Cillian murphy #Thomas Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x reader #x reader #reader insert #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #read warnings

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dollslayer · 3 years

Text

Sweeter Endings

Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Still reeling from the financial realities of losing your mother you turn to a lucrative website for help and get more than you could have bargained for.

W/C: 5,325

Warnings: Smut (no minors 18+ only), light D/S dynamics, brief mentions of alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, swearing

A/N: NO MINORS, I wrote this for @donutloverxo 's Sugary 4k Challenge (Congrats!!) I love sugar daddy AUs so I was really excited to write this!! If you like it then please like/reblog/comment I'm all ears! Also maybe check out my other stuff if you want! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

____

The saying ‘desperate times call for desperate measures’ was truer than you’d ever imagined and you found out the hard way. Life had hit you hard last year. You had watched your mother succumb very quickly to cancer. A cold that just wouldn’t go away turned into a doctor’s visit turned into three months left to live. Having no one else in her life, the cost of her funeral and medical bills fell to you. The bills outweighing the inheritance you had no choice but to drop out of school.

One year later you were hanging on by threads to keep yourself off the streets without turning to a loan shark or selling yourself. Stocking shelves at a bougie grocery store in Soho by day and bartending in Tribeca by night had you working six days a week. What free time you had you were too exhausted to do anything with. Something had to give or you were going to collapse from the stress, you just didn’t know what.

A couple weeks ago you had been casually venting about how broke you were with a coworker when she jokingly suggested signing up for one of those Sugar Daddy sites. You laughed along with her but it sounded better than getting a third job. You had quietly asked one of your roommates to borrow their laptop saying you needed to look at job postings only half a lie, really and locked yourself in your room.

You were just gonna check out the website, maybe sign up and poke around, it didn’t mean you were committing to anything, just looking. You remembered first looking at the website once your shitty wifi loaded it, promising ‘beautiful and successful people making mutually beneficial connections’. You balked after reading that but you couldn’t look at any profiles without making one yourself so you had set to work.

After making your profile you hadn’t gotten any hits in about a week so you shrugged it off. You couldn’t keep hogging your roommate’s computer anyways so you set off back to work. Your days at the store wore on into endless nights at the bar and you wondered what other options you really had when you had no degree and no experience in any relevant field.

___

6 o’clock on a Thursday night, the typical after work crowd begins to roll in. The bar you work in is upscale, classy. Definitely trying to lure in the businessmen that worked in the area and their wallets. It annoyed you to deal with the same type of customers you did at the store all over again but with the high end crowd came good tips so you couldn't complain too much.

It was busier than usual when a group of men in suits walked in together asking for a booth. You saw a lot of business meetings take place over whiskey sours in this place so you didn’t think much of it. You tried your best to keep tending to your regulars when a pair from the group came over.

One of the men had deep brown eyes and a sly grin that when split gave you the perfect view of the gap between his teeth. He was confident but he had a kind look to him. His friend had dirty blond hair and a beard that clung to his perfect jawline and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t snuck a second look. You turned your back and continued filling orders to distract yourself when one of them cleared their throat behind you.

As you turned to face them you found it was the blond calling after you. His face held a hint of surprise but it was quickly replaced by a look of amusement as he smirked and one brow lifted, like he knew something you didn’t. He was like any other typical customer for you, professional and handsome, probably over-confident in himself. You returned his smirk and prepared your best charming banter. Time to earn those tips.

“Something to drink for you, gentleman?” You offered.

“We’d like a round of scotch for the table over there. You don’t mind bringing it over, do you sweetheart?” the brown-eyed man asked.

“Of course not” you answered. Pricks.

“Good girl” the blond said with a wink. Creep. A hot creep but still. Before you could ask he took his card out of his wallet and put it on the counter for the tab.

____

A round had come and passed, soon they’d asked for another but this time it was just the blond that approached you. You lifted your eyebrows in anticipation of an order.

“You here often?” he asked. Ugh, not even a good pick up line.

“Am I here at my job often?” You retorted with a playful smile.

The man’s shoulders shook as he chuckled. “Sorry you just uh, you look familiar that’s all. What’s your name?”

You supplied him with it and asked him if he wanted another round of scotch. He nodded.

“Smart girl, I’m Steve by the way.” He laid down his business card which you picked up with a look of challenging curiosity. Steve Rogers, CEO of Shield inc.

Oh. You didn’t recognize the name but you definitely knew the company. It felt like a quarter of their employees stopped in for a drink throughout the week and it was prominent enough of a company that you read about it weekly. Play it cool, these types want to feel like an every-man at the bar but still wanna feel important.

You raised your eyebrows again in recognition. “Nice to meet you, Steve, I’ll have your round right out.”

“Good Girl” he winked again at you. Okay so it’s hot, but he’s a total stranger and you don’t even know him. Stay on your game.

___

10 o’clock came around and things were thinning out slightly, regulars made their way out, awkward Tinder dates and rowdy young 20-somethings made their way in. The party of businessmen was still around but they were hopefully wrapping up after the 2 more rounds they’d had. Steve approached the bar once more and you preemptively picked up the bottle of scotch.

“Whoa, easy, girl! I’m here to pick up the tab” He said, taking out his wallet.

“What’s the name on the tab?” You decided to play dumb but based off the grin on his face he knew you were playing with him.

“Steve. Rogers.” He replied, his tone was stern but his eyes told you he was in on the joke.

You cashed him out and left him to sign his receipt so you could make more drinks. You saw him move in your peripheral and turned your head to see his face.

“Have a good night, sweetheart. I’ll be seein’ ya” he promised.

“Take care!” You smiled back.

A few minutes later you circled back to collect his receipt and found three $100 bills staring back at you. You blinked dumbly in disbelief, who the hell leaves a 200% tip? Looking around to see if Steve was still here he was nowhere to be found. You had no choice but to pocket the money.

____

Another week went by and left you wondering how much energy and concentration it would take for you to just evaporate, since that seemed easier than going to work today. Sadly still in solid form, you punched in at the store and stowed your things in your locker.

Your upscale customer base was a mostly pretentious and successful group of yuppies so even though you were grateful to not be on the streets you were constantly reminded of the professional success you couldn’t help but feel that you were missing out on. Stuck instead to listen to incessant whining ‘is this organic? I won’t eat it unless it’s organic’.

The upside of this job was that the time went by quickly because you always had so much to do. Plus with how monotonous the work was it was easy enough to zone out. So much so that you hadn’t heard someone calling your name and approaching you. A hand softly touching your shoulder snapped you into the present.

You looked up, startled to find a pair of blue eyes staring back into yours. You took a step back and processed who it was. “CEO guy?” Steve?

“‘CEO guy?’ I thought I recognized you, ‘barmaid’ or should I say… ‘stock girl?’” He joked using his fingers to make quotations.

Now that you thought about it, the store isn’t that far at all from the bar, it would make sense if he’s in the area. You smiled and tapped your nametag in response.

“I just came in on my lunch to grab a few groceries” looking down at his basket it held some protein powder, some eggs, and one lonely banana. “Clearly, I’m single. But you’d know that already, wouldn’t you?”

Your brows twinged together in confusion. What is that supposed to mean?

“Excuse me?”

He edged a little closer to you and lowered his voice “SeekingConnection.com?”

Your eyes widened in shock. The fucking Sugar Daddy site! I forgot about that! Surprise was quickly replaced with humiliation. You looked down and away as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you” Steve placated, “But I gotta say, I’m pretty hurt you never responded to me. I sent that message weeks ago and let’s just say I’m not used to rejection.” He kept his tone light, letting you know he wasn’t mad.

“I-I um, I’m sorry, I don’t have a computer and they don’t have an app, I was using my roommates’ computer and I guess I forgot about it…” You admitted.

Steve nodded in acknowledgement. Please say something to salvage this conversation. Please.

“Well,” Steve rummaged in his pocket for another business card. “You got a pen on you?”

You dug around in your apron and came up with one. Handing it to him you watched as he wrote on the back of the card. He held the card and the pen out to you.

“That’s my number, I’d ask for yours but I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, you already look like you wanna sink through the floor” Not helping, but I do. You took them from him and tucked them away in the pocket of your apron.

“You do have a phone right?” You only glared at him in response. “Well, if you check your profile, you would’ve seen I asked you out to lunch, offer still stands. Just text me when you’re free”

Should I even say yes? I mean, the winking the other night was weird but he’s good looking and at least somewhat considerate. I mean, it’s not like I had any other intention when I signed up for that site. What the hell. right?

“I… usually work mid shifts so I don’t know if lunch is doable, they only give me half an hour but, maybe we could do coffee? I’ve got tomorrow off from the bar I could meet you” you suggested.

If Steve felt pity for you he hid it well behind the wide smile he made when you offered coffee instead.

“There’s a place around the corner from here, just up a block, you know it? I’m off tomorrow at 6, why don’t you meet me there?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He winked at you again and started walking away. What the hell just happened?

____

You did end up borrowing your roommate’s computer once again when you got home to look up Steve’s DM. Sure enough, there he had been in all his internet glory. ‘Steve, 33, CEO. likes: art, conversation, whiskey. Digging around further on his profile you found that he owned several houses here and in Europe, he had a dog that was cuter than he was, and that he was ‘Seeking deeper connection’. All of these things piqued your interest.

‘Hey, Doll. Saw your profile and I had to ask, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this? Kidding, of course. But maybe you’d care to tell me your story over lunch? Your profile says we’re both in New York. - Steve’ Sent three weeks ago. Fuck.

You had texted him earlier to confirm, which is how you found yourself walking up the sidewalk towards the shop with a mind running rampant with nervous thoughts. What if he just wants to feel big about himself in comparison to me? What would I even really have to offer the relationship? A college dropout working two dead-end jobs with no social life. You needed to snap yourself out of it. You were just meeting for coffee doesn’t mean anything.

Pushing open the door you found Steve waving at you from a quiet corner. He was still in a suit, presumably coming from work himself. Even the buttons on his shirt looked expensive. You were wearing dirty jeans and a worn pair of work boots paired with a flannel. You couldn’t have looked more different if you tried.

“I waited for you to order,” He said. You smiled up at him, only now realizing how tall he was in comparison to you. He ushered you both towards the counter where you both placed your orders. You moved to take your wallet from your purse but he had already beat you there.

“Really? As if I’d let the lady pay, and on the first date no less?” He said playfully.

“Oh, so this is a date now, is it?” You kidded.

Steve shoved his hands in his pockets and gave you that boyish grin and a shrug. The pair of you made your way back to the table and waited for your drinks to be brought over.

“How was work?” You asked, “What exactly is it that your company does?”

“We offer security and surveillance software domestically as well as international. Stadiums, airports, other government buildings. Things of that nature. And work was fine, thank you for asking” Steve said with a genuine smile. “How was your day, doll?”

“Oh, my day was fine, more of the same but y’know,” You answered half-heartedly.

“You know, you never answered me, what’s a funny, pretty gal like you doing on a site like that?”

Embarrassment hit you again, this time maybe accompanied with a hint of shame. You were saved momentarily by your drinks being delivered. He seemed truly interested and since he was paying you supposed you owed him an answer.

“I was going to Columbia and I had a pretty good internship when my mom got diagnosed with cancer. She died three months later and since it was only always just the two of us I ended up footing the bill. I was on partial scholarship but between the hospital and the funeral I can’t really afford the rest of tuition on top of working for free so here I am” you explained, “Oh my god, I’m sorry I’m totally oversharing aren’t I? You probably don’t wanna hear about a bummer like this, sorry”

You tried to laugh to ease the tension you thought you’d created. Braving a look at Steve, he looked thoughtful and only a little bit like he pitied you. You could live with that.

“I’m really sorry about your mom, mine also got really sick before she died, I know it must’ve been hard. What were you in school for?”

___

You and Steve talked for hours, trading anecdotes of childhood and talking about each other’s interests. You had a similar sense in humour so you got on swimmingly. The evening seemed to be coming to a close as the night sky sent in through the window.

Being with Steve was probably the most relaxed you’d felt since before your mom was diagnosed. It became difficult to focus on anything but your financial situation and even though that’s what brought you here in the first place you had managed to forget all about it.

“So look, us getting together wasn’t exactly the most conventional on meet-cutes but to put it bluntly,” He said, “The CEO life makes it hard to meet real people and it gets kinda lonely, I mean, you saw my grocery basket” You both laughed at that. “You need money and I need company, I feel like we could help each other out. Whad’ya say? Think you could put up with me?”

You knew what this was but hearing it put so plainly was a little surprising. At least he was to the point.

“So if I said yes what does that mean, exactly?” you inquired.

“Well,” he started, “We take care of each other. Let me cover some of your bills at the very least, make it so you’d be comfortable quitting at least one of your jobs. And you’d keep me company, we go on dates, maybe you could come over, there’s the occasional work event or charity gala I’d need you on my arm for. Thoughts?”

God I can’t even imagine what it’s like to work only one job anymore. Maybe I could even save up and go back to school. He’s cute and he seems sensible, why not?

“Could we maybe take things slow? What you describe is something I’m down for but I don’t want to make myself completely dependent on you. But I’d love to be there for you, and I have to admit, the thought of only working one full time job is pretty crazy to me” You laughed.

Steve swallowed and placed one of his large, warm hands over yours.

“I can do things the old fashioned way, if that’s what you’d feel good with. I gotta say though, with looks like that it’s not gonna be easy” he jested.

You smiled shyly and looked away. You both stood to leave and he held the door open for you.

“I’ve already got your number from when you texted me earlier but I’ll talk to my assistant about my schedule and maybe I could take you out to dinner this weekend?”

“I um, I’d really like that. It’s a date” You stated.

“Oh, so you think this is a date now?” He jested.

You lightly punched him in the arm and he took the opportunity to pull you closer to him. You looked up to find his face inches from yours. You could smell his aftershave and his deep voice gave you goosebumps when he spoke next.

“I kinda want to kiss you goodnight, would that be okay?”

You could only nod as he shut his eyes and closed in. Your lips met in one perfect, chaste kiss. You sighed and leaned into his hand as it briefly cupped your face.

You broke apart and made promises to see each other soon. You felt like you could’ve floated home as you boarded the subway, caught up in the swarm of newly forming feelings.

_____

You sat in the break room when your phone buzzed to life, ‘Saturday at 7?’

You were about to type out a yes when you forgot you worked closing at the bar. Your thumbs moved quickly to tap out the reply ‘Working, sorry :/ the pitfalls of bartending. Sunday at 7?’

You were nervous telling him no and asking to change plans. You hated not being able to make things work but you only just met the man and the weekend tips were killer, it’s not like you could turn the shift down.

‘Ah yes, almost forgot. Sunday works too, I’ll text you the details. What’s your address? I’ll pick you up’

Oh, God. Steve can’t see my building! His cufflinks probably cost more than my rent!

‘I’ll just meet you there, don’t worry about it’

‘Not a chance, doll. Just tell me where and I’ll come get you’

You let out a worried sigh but knew you had to let it go. You sent him your address and went back to work.

____

Saturday was maybe the longest day in your entire week, in fact you loathed it. Mornings at the store followed by running immediately to the bar. Last call in New York was 4am so it’s a good thing you didn’t try to make brunch plans with Steve for Sunday. But ultimately both your shifts passed without major incident and now it was Sunday and you tried to ready yourself the best you could.

The place Steve mentioned was fancy, you knew that much from a quick search. Panicking instantly upon realizing you don’t really have any nice clothes you turned to your most fashionable roommate for help. She loaned you a cocktail dress that was revealing enough to draw interest without giving everything away. You just hoped Steve would like it.

‘Downstairs, doll. Silver BMW’ you exhaled. Hoo boy, here we go.

____

Steve handed his keys to the valet and rushed around to open your door for you. You held his hand and you clambered onto the sidewalk in your heels. His warm hand on the small of your back as he steered you towards the doors was a comforting weight.

Dinner has been lovely so far, he chose a place that wasn’t completely white-glove but was upscale enough to make you feel only a little underdressed.

You joked back and forth with him over the course of the meal, talked about your lives, and even found out you both have a guilty pleasure for cheesy rom-coms. It wasn’t until dessert and your third glass of wine came that you realized how much time had passed. You frowned slightly thinking of the early morning ahead of you followed by a long night at the bar.

“What’s wrong, doll?”

“Oh, nothing I just didn’t realize how late it was, I’ve got both jobs tomorrow it’ll just be a long day that’s all” you tried to wave it off but Steve frowned in response.

“Quit the bar” he stated.

“What?”

“Quit the bar. This is your card, I’ve already loaded $3000 on there. Put me in touch with your landlord and I’ll get you taken care of.” He slid the card across the table to you. Your name printed on the front. This got real very quickly.

“Steve, that’s.” You were in shock, a loss for words almost “that’s too much, I don’t know what to say.” You felt embarrassed taking the money. You knew that was the essence of your arrangement but actually taking his money had you feeling uneasy.

“Honey, this is what I’m here for. Let me take care of you. Give up your late nights. I wanna take you out on the weekends and you’ll need to be available for events. You can stay at the store if you want but quit the bar, you don’t need it.”

You took a deep sigh. He did say he wanted you to be comfortable quitting one of your jobs; it's just making the change that scares you. But something about Steve felt safe so you nodded and looked up to him.

“I’ll put in my two weeks”

“Good girl” he patted your knee and you involuntarily clenched your thighs. He smirked at that but let it go.

____

A few months had come and gone since that night and your time with Steve had been great. Only working the one job gave you so much more free time. You'd spent a good chunk of it just trying to form a normal sleep schedule but all the time you spent with Steve made it difficult. Not that you minded especially since your allowance was monthly but he’d showered you with gifts here and there.

They started off small, perfume, chocolates and flowers, or a simple pair of white gold hoops that reminded him of you. They gradually became pricier and more elaborate. You’d felt guilty accepting it all at first but he was insistent you deserve the best. He had even mentioned you moving out maybe finding a better place but you reminded him you needed to go slow.

He’d also been nothing short of a gentleman. Out in public at least, you’d learned the hard way that he was an absolute animal in bed. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep your hands off of him.

Something you had appreciated about Steve is that he never made you feel bad or less than for being broke. Never held his money over your head like leverage. You’d felt equal to him in all aspects, understanding you had just as much say as he did.

Still, there was a small nagging voice in the back of your head that reminded you Steve is not your boyfriend. This isn't a relationship and he's looking to get something out of just like you are. But if you were being honest you were catching feelings, it was hard not to when the man was giving you the fantasy. You decided to push that voice aside whenever it came up and let yourself be swept away. Maybe that would bite you in the ass but for now you were happy.

____

You were buzzed into Steve’s building and on the elevator ride up to his penthouse your phone buzzed. ‘I have to make a quick call- I’ve got a present waiting for you in the living room.’ You couldn’t help but feel giddy.

The doors opened and Steve was nowhere in sight but as you entered the living room a bag from Chanel and the Apple Store sat on the table. Oh god, what this time? I swear this man is too much.

You opened the smaller bag from Chanel first and found a beautiful black and white evening bag. It was sleek and simple, very much to your tastes. You were nervous to open the Apple bag, Steve always went overboard. Shakily removing the paper you pulled out the slim case in disbelief. A MacBook Air and a pair of AirPod Pros. The man well and truly spoiled you.

“You said you didn’t have a computer.” His voice came from behind you and startled you.

“Steve, this is too much. You’re too much.” You swung your arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Nothin’s too much for you, doll.” He kissed the top of your head.

“Think you could take a couple days off of work? I just got off the phone and confirmed plans for my house in Nice.”

A trip? France?? Oh my god. How is this my life? You felt so overwhelmed that you grabbed Steve by the collar and brought his face down to meet you in a kiss. His tongue swiped your lips and you granted him entrance. Moaning into his mouth your hands traveled up into his hair, pulling softly and coaxing a groan out of him.

He guided you to sit on the couch and brought you down into his lap. You ground down onto him and felt his hard-on through his slacks. Your hand moved slowly to undo the buttons of his shirt as he kissed down your jaw towards your neck. You sighed softly when he found your sweet spot and started sucking.

He helped you take off his shirt while you got started on his belt and undid his pants. He lifted himself off the couch slightly to move them down to his knees, taking his briefs with them. His cock stood proud and an angry red, leaking at the tip.

“I wanna ride you, I can’t wait.” You pouted as you writhed against him in need.

Steve tutted at you “that’s no way to get what you want. Ask me nicely, baby. Beg to ride my cock,”

You ground down even harder and whined. “Please, sir, please let me ride your cock. I need to feel you, I can’t wait any longer please.”

“Good Girl” Steve's hands flipped up your skirt and found your panties, ripping them to shreds. They were La Perla and had cost a pretty penny but he didn’t care.

He lined himself up and brought you down harshly gripping your hips. You moaned loudly in surprise and satisfaction and wasted no time moving back and forth. Steve made you feel so close and connected to him whenever he fucked you but he still made you feel sordid and dirty. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling, you’d gladly chase it.

His eyes were hooded as watched you chase your own pleasure and giving him some in return. His hands kneaded your ass and smacked it just to get a gasp out of you. He grabbed the back of your head and brought you in for a searing kiss that was all teeth and tongue. He’d nip at you and lick the pain away.

His hips met yours, finding your rhythm and speeding you both up when he gripped your hips.

“Can’t wait to have me, you had to fuck me on the couch huh?” Steve panted, “my dirty girl. So fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You put your forehead against his and went harder, pushing your clit to grind against the muscles of his abs.

“Only yours, sir.” Your orgasm was building. Steve was a pretty relaxed dom but you still needed permission.

“Sir, please let me cum I can’t wait any longer” you tried your best to slow your movements a bit.

“I think you can hold it baby, I wanna enjoy you a little longer”.

You could only whine in response and tried to slow your pace but his grip on your hips and his own movements pushed you further and further towards the edge. You tried to squirm out of his grasp but his hands only tightened. It felt like forever until Steve finally gave you permission.

“Go on baby, cum for me you earned it. Fuck your self on my cock and cum all over me”

Your movements were frantic, desperate to chase your orgasm when finally the perfect angle of his cock inside you and your clit against him set you free. You cried out above him and dug your nails in deep.

Steve held you firmly in place and started slamming into you from below, finally letting himself think about cumming. All you could do was hold on for mercy. Moments later he brought you down onto him one final slam as he came inside of you with a cry.

The only sound in the room was both of you trying to catch your breath. You sighed again and collapsed against him, nuzzling your face into his neck. He kissed the side of your face and let you make yourself at home while he caressed your back.

____

One shower and two more orgasms later you were both clean and made your way to the kitchen. Steve was gathering the ingredients for dinner when you hugged him from behind. Your head resting against his back. Steve twisted around and hugged you in full. You both stayed like that for a moment until you looked up at him.

You were so content. Moments like this where you were just domestic were some of the best between you. It wasn’t about money or material, it was just the two of you making dinner and enjoying each other, no barriers.

“Are you really going to take me to France?” Your voice came out muffled against his chest.

“Of course, doll. After dinner I want you to use your new laptop to buy some outfits for the trip. I left my card in your new purse.”

You lifted onto your tiptoes and kissed his nose.

“You really do think of everything, don’t you?”

“What can I say? I’m a planner” he retorted.

You didn’t know it yet but Steve was going to ask you to become official while you were there. He wasn’t worried in the slightest. In fact he’d never been so sure about something in his life.

#sugary4kchallenge #steve rogers x reader #sugar daddy!Steve rogers x reader #sugar daddy!steve rogers #sugar daddy au #marvel au #marvel fic #marvel x reader #fluff #smut

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bbangsoonie · 3 years

Text

good for nothing

member: juyeon genre: angst (royal au) word count: 4,635 synopsis: despite being the first born and the kingdom’s princess, you lived your whole life in the shadow of the crown prince born to a concubine. in your plot for revenge, a fool in love comes along your path. warning(s): violence

kingdom masterlist

Princess Y/n. You were the first born of the king and queen, educated beyond societal standards for girls, and incredibly beautiful. Yet, you were disregarded and looked down on since the moment you were born. Your brother, who was born to a concubine, was the crown prince and received much greater respect. The reason? You were a girl. A good-for-nothing girl as your father called you on multiple occasions.

The king was ashamed to have his first born be a daughter. He also felt threatened by your rejection of the status quo. Because of this, he grabbed every opportunity to make you submit to him.

You were exceptionally smart but no one cared to notice. Your desire to learn was ignored and you were forced to embroider butterfly patterns instead. At a young age, you realized your place. You knew your designated fate was to be a political pawn meant to be married off at a beautiful age. To protect the royal family that never considered you as one of their own, you were to marry a complete stranger one day.

However, just because you realized your place didn’t mean you accepted it. You defied the rules at every chance you saw. You remained a headache for the king, but a small enough headache to avoid his wrath.

Unbeknownst to him, you were well versed with the dirty politics of the country. Ever since you were a little girl, you would eavesdrop into the ministers’ conversations and manipulate the eunuchs to take a peak at written grievances sent to the king. You knew about the starving peasants he ignored and the bribes he received. As you grew older, you became hungry for power. When it became apparent that the king was blocking any hope for you, you were determined to take as many people down with you. You refused to suffer alone.

The king always berated you for being greedy. Greedy for education. Greedy for acknowledgement. Greedy for a life that was more than just being a good wife. He reminded you again and again that you would never have a voice in official affairs.

Every time you left his chamber after another lecture, you made sure to humiliate the embarrassment the kingdom called the crown prince. You would outshine him one way or another. Whether it be pointing out his grammar mistakes in front of the scholars or exposing his secret palace escapes to the queen, you would dampen his mood for the day. It was the only thing that gave you a speck of joy.

There was also only one thing that gave you something to look forward to. For years, you had been conspiring against the royal family. You despised the royal family and its classist, sexist, and pretentious values. You planned on getting rid of it once and for all. The kingdom deserved a leader that would rule benevolently. Slowly but surely, you gained the loyalty of several ministers. Soon enough, you would be able to execute the meticulous coup d'état.

But until then, you had to continue to be nothing but the king’s puppet. Which included meeting your fiancé. You were introduced a week ago and wedding preparations were already in full swing.

The man you would be forced to wed, Lee Juyeon, was the first son of the Chief State Councillor. You didn’t like him the moment you saw him. He was a pretty face that grew up with his father’s full love and support. He was both elegant and masculine; he was the definition of perfect and you hated it. A person had to have flaws to be likeable.

For some crazy reason you couldn’t wrap your mind around, Juyeon was infatuated with you. He visited the palace every day just to have you decline his request for a meeting. He was persistent.

Unfortunately for you, he was also crafty. He figured out that announcing his arrival to the king was an effective way to see your face. The king was delighted to see the Chief State Councillor’s son head over heels for his daughter and thus, to your annoyance, daily meetings were arranged for you two.

“Tell me, Lord Lee, what about me is worthy of your obsession?” you asked.

You were sitting at one of the gardens within the palace walls. He had insisted on the location because of its romantic beauty.

“Then tell me, Your Highness, what about me is not to your liking?” he grinned.

“Do you wish to hear the answer of the princess or the answer of Y/n?” you raised a brow, making him laugh.

“You amuse me, Princess Y/n,” he turned his head to look at the pond.

You sighed, wondering how long you had until you could return to your residence. The man next to you was oblivious to your feelings as he rambled on about the dates he wanted to take you on. He caught your attention when he mentioned sneaking you out of the palace for half a day.

“You would really risk taking me outside of the palace?” you perked up.

He was excited to see you finally engaged in the conversation and nodded profusely. He promised to set up an elaborate plan for a smooth date. Grudgingly, you accepted his offer. Your wish to see the village overwhelmed your wish to avoid your soon-to-be consort.

The next day, a court lady secretly found you to notify you of his plans. To evade the eyes of palace maids, you were to escape through a path not commonly used. She helped you scale the wall and you froze when you saw Juyeon on the other side. You sat on top of the wall and he extended his hand for support. With a tight smile, you held his hand and jumped down.

He pulled the veil over your face to keep your identity hidden, blushing when his hand slightly brushed your cheek. He hopped onto the horse and gestured for you to do the same. Hesitantly, you held his hand again to climb on.

Using the excuse of maintaining balance, he urged you to hold on tightly. You weren’t left with an option when he sped up, prompting you to instinctively hug his waist. You didn’t have to see his face to know that he was smiling like a fool.

At last, you finally arrived at the village. Fascinated at the change in environment, you looked like a child surrounded by toys. Chuckling, Juyeon admired the view in front of him. In his eyes, you were prettier than any flower and sweeter than any candy. Feeling his gaze on you, you cleared your throat and began walking.

There was so much to look at. He caught you staring at the rows of yeot and purchased the confectionery without you asking. You immediately popped one into your mouth and he laughed when your cheeks expanded to resemble a squirrel.

“Are you teasing me?” you frowned.

“No, I am appreciating your adorable and lovely appearance,” he answered as he handed you the bag holding the rest of the yeot. His words didn’t fluster you. You simply rolled your eyes and resumed walking.

His long legs were quick to catch up with you. Enjoying your presence, he watched as you fawned over little trinkets. It was a new side of you that he had never seen.

Stopping at an accessory shop, you scanned the norigaes displayed on the table. One of them caught your eye and you held it up for a closer look. It was a beautiful pale pink color that perfectly matched your current hanbok.

“It seems a norigae is better at capturing your heart than I am,” Juyeon pouted.

“Perhaps it is prettier than you,” you shrugged.

“Is this an implication that I am pretty? To a certain extent?” he beamed.

“How do my words become that?” you exclaimed.

With another laugh, he took the accessory from your grasp and went to pay for it. You blinked at the sudden sight of his back, noticing for the first time how broad his shoulders were. When he came back to your side, he held the norigae in front of you but pulled it back when you reached out for it. He pointed at the bag of yeot and opened his mouth. Baffled, you turned around to walk away.

He caught your wrist and spun you back around. He bent down and your face stopped an inch away from his. His usual shy self was gone and he had a confident smirk on his lips.

“Does your heart not sway even at a close distance like this?” he asked. This time, he caught you off guard. When you finally came back to your senses, you hurriedly shoved a piece of yeot into his mouth and stormed off.

“Y/n, you make me laugh too hard and too much!” you heard his voice call out, making you blush crimson with embarrassment.

With your upcoming wedding looming over your head, it became increasingly difficult to communicate with the ministers. There were too many eyes to be wary of. Juyeon, of course, was one of them.

As you spent more time with him, you realized how sentimental he was. He brought you small, meaningful gifts and loved to tell you about the meanings behind each flower.

“Did you know that the plum blossom is one of the indications of spring's arrival?” he asked one day. “They can bloom as early as late March.”

“I think it is quite obvious that it is spring,” you commented, pointing at the variety of flowers surrounding you.

“My personal favorite flower is the rose of sharon,” he continued. “It is nicknamed the “immortal flower” and means “eternal blossom that never fades” because of its resilience. It regrows despite harsh conditions and even after it is damaged. Amazing, isn’t it?”

You hummed, looking for the flower he was talking about.

“I used to hope that our kingdom would take after the flower. We have survived through many tragedies and I hope that we will survive through anything else that tries to beat us down,” his words pricked you for some reason. Would your rebellion be seen as a tragedy or as a heroic deed?

“Now, I like to think that our love will be like the rose of sharon. My love for you will never fade and I will continue to pine after you despite your harsh words. Even if you hurt me, my feelings will transcend time,” he smiled. “The flower does not bloom until July. My wish is to go see them with you. Would you bless me with your presence when the time comes?”

You observed his lovestruck expression and couldn’t bring yourself to say no. Again, you were at a loss trying to understand why he was so besotted with you. His childlike innocence was almost pure to a fault in a place like the palace.

“I shall consider it if you teach me how to swing a sword,” you proposed.

He couldn’t hide both his shock and happiness. He was confused as to why you wanted to ever hold a weapon but glad that you were slowly opening up to him. Without a second thought, he agreed to your proposition.

Juyeon was full of bliss at the thought of spending more time with you. Teaching you swordsmanship would allow him to be intimate with you and he was thrilled. At your first secret lesson, his heart raced at your proximity as he guided your hands on how to properly wield the blade.

A week passed by and you quickly improved each day. Eventually, you became skilled enough to land a fake jab. Seeing your proud smile, he grinned as well.

“I guess I should be on edge now. If I annoy my princess one too many times, my life will literally be at your hands,” he joked.

“Do you regret training me?” you smirked.

“Ah, was this all a part of your plan?” he pretended to gasp. “Either to kill me off or to threaten me to obedience?”

Not finding his joke funny, you blankly stared at him. Noticing the sudden chill in the atmosphere, he awkwardly laughed.

“Do not worry, Your Highness. I will always do as you say. You do not need a sword to make me behave.” he smiled.

You hated to admit it but he had grown on you. His constant attempts to tear down your wall had finally made a crack. You had to stop before he became your weakness.

For the first time in a while, you were summoned to the king’s chamber. Expecting another reprimand, you dreaded the walk there. To your surprise, however, you were greeted with a smile he hadn’t given you in years. It kind of freaked you out.

“You called for me, Your Majesty?” you bowed.

“I hear you have been getting along wonderfully with the Chief State Councillor’s son. Finally, you are fulfilling your duty as this kingdom’s princess,” he commended.

What a back-handed compliment. You wanted to roll your eyes at his passive aggressiveness. Holding back your urges, you politely smiled instead.

“I just wanted to let you know that I will be in a hurry to complete your wedding. I need the Chief State Councillor’s support to find a suitable wife for the crown prince,” he announced.

“Is my marriage merely a way for the crown prince to find a wife with a powerful family?” you shot back.

Your question turned the mood scarily sour. You felt his anger rise as he chastised you for your impudence and disrespect.

“The crown prince is the future leader of our kingdom. He is more than deserving of the immense care, thought, and effort that goes into picking his consort. His consort will be this kingdom’s queen and will be the one to bear the next king. You are nothing but a useless girl who will belong to a different family.”

“I am still a member of the royal family, am I not?”

“You are just a good-for-nothing girl that will leave this palace soon,” he spat. “Now leave. You are dismissed.”

On your way out, you ran into the crown prince who looked at you in a way you found to be offensive. You paused your steps and turned around.

“I wish you fertility, Crown Prince. After all, the kingdom relies on your performance to produce an heir to the throne,” you said, lacing your words with venom. “I would imagine you would hate having to adopt a nephew.”

You could tell you had gotten under his skin yet again and left satisfied. You loathed and condemned your family with a burning passion. You couldn’t wait for the day it would all come to a bitter end.

While you were brooding, you didn’t notice Juyeon sneaking up on you. When you finally saw him, you nearly jumped. Your hand reached out to cover your heart, trying to calm it down. Sheepishly, he apologized for startling you.

Trying to keep you from walking away from him, he held onto the hem of your sleeve. Your heart softened at the gentle manner he treated you with. Ignoring your instincts, you let him cling onto you. Instead of making you turn around to face him, he walked in front of you.

“Will you accompany me to the garden today as well?” he asked earnestly.

Knowing that the court ladies were watching, you reluctantly accepted his invitation once again. This time, he surprised you with a bag filled with yeot. He looked so proud of himself for remembering your love for the sweet treat that it made you laugh. As a reward, he grabbed a piece for himself. Unaware of the smudge it left on the corner of his lips, he was conscious of your gaze and tried to look attractive.

“Worry not, Your Highness. You will get to look at this face every day and every night once we marry,” he assured.

Despite his wise exterior, he had a goofy side to him. He was pure and innocent—everything you weren’t. You could see why the king favored him so much.

“I do not understand why you are so eager to become my consort,” you suddenly blurted. ��You know that it is just a flashy title that does not award you with much privileges. It is an empty position; you cannot hold office without a special order from the king. Do you simply see yourself as a stepping stone for your father to bring honor to your family?”

“Is my love for you an acceptable response?” he asked after some thought.

“Is it truly worth your dangerous status as the princess’s husband and king’s son-in-law? The royal family has many enemies,” you warned.

“I will be the one to protect you from such enemies,” he declared.

Was he naive or has his affection for you blinded him?

“Princess Y/n,” he said solemnly as he held your hand. “I promise to love and protect you for as long as my heart beats. No, even after it ceases to beat, I will still yearn for you. I will not demand or expect you to do the same. Even if your feelings for me are not as strong as my feelings for you, I will not blame you. But will you please give me the chance to try to win you over?”

His confession triggered an alarm in your head. He was never supposed to fall for you this hard and you were never supposed to allow him to. He had no idea how cunning and conniving you really were. Only the people in the palace knew how cold-hearted you could be. You had to be in order to survive.

You refused to give him a reply and pulled your hand away. His face fell but he forced himself to smile again. In an attempt to break the tension, he made a random comment on the weather.

After you two parted, you decided to speed things up to initiate the revolt. Once you joined hands in marriage, Juyeon would inevitably end up a target as well. If you wanted to spare him, you needed to overthrow the corrupted royal family before he became a part of it.

It was officially the day before the insurrection. To be honest, you weren’t really nervous. This was what you had been anticipating your entire life.

Yet why did you have a moment of weakness when you saw Juyeon that afternoon? He approached you with that boyish smile that did wonders to your normally rational mind. Feeling what you believed was pity, you wanted to leave him with a pleasant memory.

So you ended up convincing him to sneak you out of the palace again. This time, you were a lot more enthusiastic. You wanted to try all the pastries and insisted that he taste them too.

“You seemed to have a lot on your mind these days,” he carefully pointed out. “Has the problem that has been bothering you been resolved now?”

“It will soon,” you eluded.

You stared at the man in front of you, observing his features. He was, without a doubt, good looking. You could see why all the court ladies, palace maids, and girls of the village were so smitten with him. But you still didn’t get why he chose you to fawn over. Maybe it was because of the lack of affection you grew up with but something about having someone care for you was unsettling.

You had suitors court you before but none of them were as devoted as Juyeon. He always came off as genuine. Perhaps his sincerity was what made you lower your guard.

“I promise to lavish you with such outings if that is what makes you happy,” he proclaimed, almost making you laugh.

“Why do you make so many vows?” you inquired.

“I am a man who keeps his word and you are the only one I give it to,” he grinned. You wondered how happy he had to be to smile so often. You rarely had reasons to be smiling.

He glanced down at the table and examined the rows of binyeos. Holding one up, he held the hair pin against your hair.

“May I gift you this binyeo?” he asked.

You pursed your lips, feeling just a tad bit of guilt. You were used to being showered with extravagance but with Juyeon, it was different. There was an emotional value attached to each present.

“Only if you promise me one other thing,” you negotiated.

“Of course. I will do anything you ask of me,” he responded.

“Promise me that you will not visit the palace tomorrow,” you said sternly. He looked at you with curiosity.

“Tomorrow is… a day of mourning for me. I do not wish to see you until the day after,” you lied.

“This is the first time you have expressed your desire to see me,” he lit up at your last sentence. “I will prepare a magnificent date for when I see you over-morrow.”

You almost felt sorry for his naiveté. And you almost—just almost—felt sorry for deceiving him.

The fateful day arrived at last. You stood, taking one last glimpse at your reflection. Subconsciously, your hand reached out to touch the binyeo in your hair.

The roars of the royal guards and the clanks of combat rumbled throughout the palace. With a determined look, you left your chamber. The sword in your clenched fist dragged across the ground as you made your way to the throne hall.

When you finally busted through the door, the king sat as if he had been waiting for you.

“I should have known that this was your doing,” he scowled. “Was your luxurious life as a princess not enough for you? Could you not fight the temptation of avarice?”

“Nothing about my life was ever comfortable,” you corrected. “I always had to play along to match your mood in order to avoid being married off to an old man just out of your spite. You tried to drill your toxic mentality in me because my individuality terrified you. You made it a point to constantly tear me down. So I made it a point to see your demise.”

“You have always been this sly ever since you were a little girl. I knew I would regret your birth the moment I saw your eyes. And I was right. You are nothing but a vile bitch.”

“For the longest time, I thought I was deserving of your hatred. But I came to the realization that you simply belittled me just for being a girl. Do not forget, Your Majesty, that the womb inside me is the same as the one that bore you the crown prince.”

Mockingly, you approached the throne. It was incredible how that one seat gave its owner immense power.

“Speaking of which, why is it that only men carry on the family name?” you questioned. “Do you not realize that women are the ones who carry on the precious bloodline you always speak of? It is the body of women that conceive and grow another human inside them. It is the body of women that suffer through labor to deliver you children and nurture them to good health. The only thing you do is spread your seeds like a fruit. And then blame women for your own infertility.”

“All throughout history, it has been men who carried on the royal bloodline. What makes you think that you are worthy of special treatment?”

“Bloodline, bloodline, bloodline,” you rolled your eyes in irritation. “Do not fool yourself. It is not blood you care about but name. Men may carry on the nameline but we are the ones who give you the royal blood pumping in your veins.”

You sloppily lifted the sword to the king’s neck, smirking.

“I knew you would be the one to bring my downfall,” he glared.

“Well, how does it feel to have all your fears come true, my king?” you taunted. “You were always afraid that I would either surpass you or ruin you. Now, I will be the one to end this damned bloodline. This good-for-nothing girl will take back the royal blood that was given to you by a woman.”

With that, you slashed his neck. Blood splattered across the wall and on your face. You grimaced, wiping away the warm liquid. You were surprisingly calm in front of such a gruesome sight. That was, until Juyeon came bursting through the door.

After he had parted from you the day before, he could not get you out of his mind. Something about your eyes had been melancholic. Your words sounded like a foreshadow and it left him feeling disturbed. So he broke his promise and went to the palace to see you again. He was alarmed to see the chaos ensuing and immediately searched for you. However, he never expected the situation he stumbled into.

“P-Princess Y/n,” he stuttered, making you aim the weapon at yourself. You never intended or wanted him to witness this.

“Do not come any closer,” you warned.

“Your Highness, please. Put the sword down,” he begged.

“I cannot,” you gulped. “This is how it must end.”

“We-we can run away. Together. We can leave everything behind and I will keep you safe,” he said as he tried his best to stay calm.

You wanted to both laugh and cry. Your life was a suicidal mission. You knew from the beginning that you would not be able to survive. If you failed, you would be executed for treason. If you succeeded, you would be executed to officially end the royal bloodline.

You had to admit, you slightly wavered at one point. Juyeon’s promise to make you happy was enticing. To someone who never strayed close to emotions before, he was like a miracle. He made you feel all sorts of things that you were glad to have experienced.

“I apologize, Lord Lee,” you sadly smiled before you stabbed the blade into your stomach.

“No!” he screamed as he ran to your side.

You slowly fell to the ground with Juyeon’s arms wrapped around your body. His hands shook above the wound as he cried, knowing that he couldn’t take it out without ensuring your death. He never thought that what he taught you would be used against yourself. If he had known that this was what you planned on using your skills for, he never would have taken your offer.

“I am afraid I will not be able to go see the rose of sharons with you,” you said as a tear escaped your eyes.

Your vision began to cloud and you felt the life in you leave with every breath you took. You didn’t even realize that your hand was gripping his clothes, crinkling it. Another tear rolled down your cheek as your head fell back, your neck unable to support it any longer.

He desperately clung onto you, holding your head in his bloodied hands.

“I will bring the flowers to you,” he affirmed.

“Another promise,” you chuckled.

“This one I will be sure to keep,” he stated as his own tears fell to your face.

Next to the weapon embedded in you was the norigae he bought you the first time you escaped the palace together. He looked up to see that you were wearing the binyeo he bought you as well. He sobbed, holding onto you tighter.

“I hope to be reborn as a rose of sharon. That way, I can come see you every spring,” you whispered before you closed your eyes for the last time.

tag list: @dearseungie @cuppasunu @reverienostalgia @elcie-chxn @parfaitz @lovelyutas @mochinyu @leejaeyeons

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weelittleweasley · 4 years

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masquerade (d.m.)

prompt as requested by anon: draco malfoy was your rival in slytherin house. both of you ambitious, bold, and daring. as one of the few pureblood slytherin families left, you promised yourself that you would continue your lineage, but not with scum like malfoy. instead, you would meet a suitor at the annual masquerade ball hosted by the malfoys each year. but what if your prospective suitor is someone you didn’t expect...

pairing: draco malfoy x fem! pureblood slytherin reader

warnings: language

word count: 8.7k

author’s note: let’s say this takes place around 7th year (no voldy) right after the reader’s 18th birthday. also--i took the liberty of naming the reader’s parents just for sake of making things less confusing.

you guys...would you want a second part to this? i may have an idea for a sequel? depends on how you all like it, but this...kinda went hard ngl

here is a playlist that i found on spotify that works well with the fic! credits to owner!

Rivalry; nothing like it. It gave you a reason to work harder, faster, and stronger than your rival. You were taught at a very young age that you should never surrender to someone who tries to make you feel inferior. And you took that to heart throughout your time at Hogwarts. You fought wisely with your charisma and charm, earning you the highest marks at school. You were a prefect, one of the top five students in your graduating class, and you were already making plans for your future.

But that didn’t mean that there weren’t any challenges in your way. Many obstacles stood in your path of achieving greatness. One of those obstacles named Draco Malfoy. The two of you came from pureblood Slytherin families who had been fighting for power that dated back hundreds of years. That only meant that when you both entered Hogwarts in the same year, you had a rival to beat. But Draco wasn’t stupid. He knew how to keep up with you, sometimes surpassing you. Draco was also a prefect alongside you, one place higher than you in your class ranking, and not to mention, Professor Snape’s favorite student.

It drove you ballistic that no matter what you did, you couldn’t outsmart Malfoy. He was always one step ahead of you. He anticipated your every move as if he had studied you for years. But you had something on your side that Draco didn’t expect; divine feminine energy.

You would never fall for Malfoy, not in a million years. But that was exactly the point. Use what you have that Draco wants to your advantage. Your mother always told you that women had the energy of a thousand suns in their eyes and could burn anyone they wanted with just a stare. So that’s exactly what you did throughout Hogwarts. Burn Malfoy.

With just a look in the halls, you would set the boy on fire. With rage, with envy, with frustration, and with passion. You wanted no more but to see the boy fail. But failure wasn’t in Draco’s vocabulary. Needless to say, your time at Hogwarts became full of push and pull between the both of you. A rivalry of the ages.

It was exhausting, being tasked with rivalry at school, but you were thankful when winter break rolled around. You sat in your family’s manor house, the roaring fireplace in front of you as you read an alluring book. The crackling fire warmed up your chilly toes as a green velvet blanket rested over your shoulders. During break, you didn’t have to worry about Malfoy or his every move. You could enjoy yourself.

As you read, you can hear the footsteps of someone descending the stairs. “(Y/N), dear,” your mother’s voice calls out.

“In the drawing room, Mother!” you call back.

Soon enough, there your mother was, looking regal as ever as you smiled. Your mother was truly a force to be reckoned with. She stood in front of you, in a beautiful black gown, trimmed with gold and silver, your family crest embroidered above her left breast. Her hair was styled away from her face to reveal her youthful looking face. She was stunning to say the least. “I have news, darling,” she smiles, approaching you before taking a spot on the loveseat that you rested on.

You close your book and smile as you mother sits behind you, combing through your hair, something you always found relaxing. “I hope it’s good news, I could use some,” you tease her, earning a small giggle.

As she combs through your hair with her fingers, she speaks, “As you know, the annual masquerade ball occurs around this time of year.” You remembered watching your parents get ready for the ball as a child. You would sit next to your mother’s vanity and watch her delicately make up her face as her ladies’ maid did her hair. Your mother always wore a beautiful gown from the finest silk, adorned with jewels or lace or whatever she fancied. You remember your father told your mother she could get whatever she liked; your father wanted nothing but your mother to be satisfied. “The ball is open to any pureblood Slytherin who has reached the age of eighteen. And since you’ve have your eighteenth birthday not too long ago, you are eligible to attend,” you can hear the excitement in your mother’s voice. It had always been her dream to see you attend the ball. And yours to attend it.

You smile widely, “I’m delighted. We’ll need to contact the seamstress now if I want a dress in time.”

Chuckling, your mother places her hands on your shoulder. “Yes, yes, dear. But before we talk about what you are wearing, we must discuss the details,” she informs as you sigh. You just wanted to get to the fun part. “The masquerade ball is not just a party, but a tradition. The ball was made for young pureblood Slytherins to meet each other blindly and find a prospective partner for marriage,” you mother reveals as your heart stops.

A partner for marriage? You had just turned eighteen and now you had to think about a partner? You hadn’t even graduated from Hogwarts yet.

But before you can protest the thought of courtship, your mother adds, “It’s how your father and I met in fact. We had danced the whole night and at the end of the ball, he took off my mask and we realized that we knew each other already. He was my partner in my potion’s class at Hogwarts.” She smiles at the memory. “Now, I’m not saying you need to find a fiancé, but it would be nice to be open to it. It’s tradition.”

The thought of finding a fiancé at the ball made your mind reel and your heart race. Sure, the tradition was old, but there was something romantic about it. Especially since that’s how your parents found each other. You nod your head, “Of course, Mother.”

Your mother presses a kiss to the top of your head. She opens her mouth to speak, but instead you hear another voice. “There are some fine suitors attending the ball this year,” your father speaks. He walked into the room a teasing smile on his face as you roll your eyes. “Let’s not overwhelm our daughter with the prospect that she might find her future partner, shall we, Porpentina?” your father tells your mother.

She simply sighs, “Let’s not rule it out though, Samuel. Anything can happen.”

Your father walks over to the two of you, a handsome smile on his face as he shakes his head. Your father was the smartest man you’ve ever met. He always led with logic and had a rational brain. But when it came to you, your father was putty. He loved spoiling his only child, his daughter. “Anyway, I’m glad that you’ve decided to come to ball, my dear,” your father beams as your mother squeezes your shoulders. “I’ll let Lucius and Narcissa know,” he looks to your mother with a nod.

“Wait, Lucius and Narcissa?” you freeze. Malfoy’s. “Are they coming to the ball as well? Will Draco be in attendance?” you interrogate.

Your father chuckles, “Well, I would hope so since they host the ball every year, dearest.” You scoff and let your mouth fall open. Since when was your family alright with the Malfoy's? Last time you were aware, your families despised one another. “I know, it’s strange, but over the last few years, our families have been able to be more level headed with each other. Lucius is still a fucking prick, but he’s been more tame,” your father huffs, making you laugh a bit. “But yes, Draco will be at the ball.”

You immediately rise from your seat on the hardwood floor. “Then I’m not going,” you state as your mother stares at you confused. “You know how much I hate that pretentious, loathsome boy since I stepped foot in Hogwarts. He’s rude and spiteful and inconsiderate and vile. I refuse to voluntarily be in the same room as him whilst I am supposed to be enjoying winter break. I simply refuse.”

Springing to her feet, your mother tries to reason with you. “Think about it, darling. It’s a masquerade ball. You won’t even recognize Draco. He’ll be in costume as well as everyone else. You won’t even know who is who. It’ll be a night to remember, I promise you,” your mother speaks, rubbing your arms. “Besides, I already called the seamstress and she has a beautiful design that she has custom made for you,” she wiggles her brows.

The thought of attending the ball still did excite you. Live orchestral music, beautiful gowns, champagne in golden flutes. It all sounded so regal. How could you let Draco Malfoy stand in the way of your fun? Besides, the chances of you stumbling upon Draco were slim. Sighing, you surrender, “Alright, fine. But if I so much as smell Draco Malfoy, you won’t hear the end of it.”

---------

Meanwhile, Draco stood beside his mother as servants and maids and butlers ran through the Malfoy Manor, carrying fine china, silverware, champagne flutes, and the finest decorations from around the world to decorate the manor in time for the ball. To the common person, this would all be so fantastic to watch. People decorating the manor in golds and greens, preparing for the quickly approaching festivities. But to Draco, this was normal. All the glamor and the splendor was just another day.

Narcissa holds her son’s arm, linked with hers as she sighs, “Your first masquerade ball. You’ve grown up so quickly, my darling.” Narcissa smiles at her son inspecting his grown face. Where did her child go? All she saw was a fine man.

Draco smiles kindly at his gentle mother. “I’m not being shipped away, Mother. It’s just a ball,” he laughs, giving her hand a squeeze. “Besides, I don’t expect to find a potential wife at the ball like Father believes...” he trails off.

The thought of marriage made Draco’s stomach churn. It wasn’t like he had a choice. Lucius Malfoy expected Draco to find a wife and a wife soon. Even though the boy hadn’t graduated, Lucius wanted to know that the Malfoy name would continue on for generations to come. He needed to ensure that his boyish son found another pureblood and produced an heir to the Malfoy name.

Narcissa looks sadly at her son. She wanted nothing but the best for him, but also wanted the same as her husband. “Draco, dear, you know how important this ball is to your father and I. There are some perfectly sweet, beautiful girls in attendance to the ball tomorrow. What about Pansy Parkinson? Pureblood, Slytherin, comes from wealth,” Narcissa starts.

“What about her obnoxious personality or obsessive nature? Parkinson is a hard no,” Draco dismisses the notion. “Who else?”

Narcissa thinks, “The Greengrasses! Daphne will be in attendance since she just turned eighteen. Her younger sister still has a few more years before she can attend.”

Draco shakes his head, “Daphne is a good friend. It would be awkward.” Narcissa sighs and laughs lightly. “Anyone else or am I stuck with Pansy?”

Mrs. Malfoy stays quiet for a while before bringing up the next name, knowing how touchy it is for her son. “Well, I received news yesterday of another pureblood Slytherin who just turned eighteen recently who will be in attendance...” she trails off as Draco looks at his mother, intrigued and curious. “Miss (Y/L/N) will be coming...”

Draco’s face then contorts with disgust. “You invited my biggest rival to the ball?” he exclaims. “Mother, you know how I feel about her! Merlin, at this point let’s invite Potter and his friends to really spice things up shall we?” he scoffs sarcastically.

Narcissa starts, “Draco, please. I know how you feel about (Y/N), but she is a pureblood Slytherin. Her family has money and power and a title. Maybe if something happened between you tw-”

“Nothing will happen between (Y/N) and I, Mother. So don’t get your hopes up,” Draco cuts his mother off who sadly sighs. Draco monitors her sad expression before he feels guilty for his outburst. “I just cannot see myself getting past my feelings for her as they are now,” he reasons with his mother, squeezing her hand as she sadly smiles. “But I did hear that you invited some Beauxbatons to the ball,” he wiggles his eyebrows as Narcissa rolls her eyes.

-----------

Standing in your room in front of the mirror, your ladies’ maid tightened your corset as you sucked in a breath. “Too tight?” she asks, scared that she hurt her master’s child.

“No, Lottie, just fine,” you smile at her as she ties the strings to the corset before taking your gown off of its hanger. “Lottie, can I ask you a question?” you ask as she helps you step into the gown.

Lottie smiles, “Of course, my lady. What would you like to know?”

As Lottie shimmies the dress up your body, you speak, “When you met your husband, when did you know he was the right one for you? Was there a moment? Or something he said? Or was it love at first sight?”

You hold the dress up as Lottie makes her way to the back to zip it up. “It’s more of a feeling you get in your stomach, my lady. I knew my husband was the one because I felt like my stomach was doing flips and my head was reeling. There’s no feeling quite like it,” she tells you as you smile. Love was so complicated to you. You didn’t understand how it was supposed to work. You loved knowing that there were answers to almost every problem, but when it came to love, you were clueless of its answer. “Take a look, my lady.”

Looking into the mirror, you softly smile. The strapless gown was of emerald silk, hugging your chest beautiful as it came in at the waist as it cascaded down your long legs. It wasn’t puffy or poofy or full of tule. It was sleek and sexy and mature. Your hair was straightened, but pieces fell loosely in your face, framing it. Gold eyeshadow was swept across your eyelids and your lips wore a peachy pink gloss. It was perfect. “I love it,” you smile.

“You look simply stunning,” Lottie added. “Anyone would be lucky to have you as their wife, my lady.”

You smile at Lottie, “Thank you, Lottie. Could you call my mother in please?” She curtsies before leaving you in your room. Nervously, you pace the floor, anxious for tonight’s events. Were you really expected to find a suitor? Who was coming to the ball? Maybe someone from a different country? A bright, handsome wizard might sweep you off your feet and take you away. The thought made your heart race.

Interrupting your thoughts, you hear a knock on the door before your mother enters. “Darling,” she sighs as you laugh. “There are no words to describe the way you look.”

You beam, “Thank you, Mother. I feel good, but I’m nervous.” She walks closer to you, concern on her face. “What if there is no one there for me? Even worse, what if there is someone there for me and I miss them?”

She shakes her head, “You cannot think of those things. (Y/N), I raised to be confident, powerful, and smart. And that’s exactly what you are plus more. Anyone with a brain and eyes will see how brilliant you are. No need to fret.” You exhale as she smiles at you. “I came in here to give you one last thing before we go,” she says as she reveals a gorgeous gold mask, adorned with pearls, diamonds, and emeralds. “It was mine when I went to my first masquerade ball. The same mask I wore when I met your father when I was eighteen. I thought that it might bring you some luck,” she tells you.

Tears start to well up in your eyes before you hug your mother tightly. “Thank you,” you whisper as she holds onto you tightly. “Thank you so much, Mom.”

Your mother gives you a squeeze. “I’m your mother. It’s what I do,” she says. “Now let’s put this on you and get ready to go. The ball waits for no one.”

-------------

The ball was already bustling and it had just begun a mere twenty minutes ago. Women and ladies wore beautiful gowns varying of colors and textures, adorned with jewels and precious stones. Men wore suits and capes, perfectly tailored, all very clean cut. But everyone wore a mask to conceal their identity. Each mask beautiful and intricate in design. Some masks covered their whole faces and parts of their head, other just the eyes, and some wore masks that covered their whole head. Everyone was anonymous and that just made your excited anxiety increase.

As you stepped into the Malfoy Manor, you took in your surroundings. Their home was lovely. Beautifully decorated in golds and silvers, accents of black and green. Huge diamond chandeliers came down from the ceilings and twinkled as light passed through it. A large orchestra was settled in the ballroom, playing the finest music your ears have ever heard. You swooned. This all felt like a dream. A very real dream.

At the foyer, you were greeted by a butler who took your coat and another who offered you a flute of golden champagne as you graciously accepted it with a smile and a soft thank you. Your heart fluttered as you examined the manor through your mask.

“May I escort the two loveliest ladies into the ballroom?” your father speaks as he offers his arms to you and your mother. You smile widely at him before you made your way to the ballroom where the rest of the party was.

The ballroom was enchanting. The walls were golden adorned with the most gorgeous architecture you have ever seen. Painted ceilings of pastel colors with tall candelabras that illuminated them. The orchestra played passionately as couples ranged from ages eighteen to fifty danced across the floor, women’s dresses swaying with each elegant movement.

Your eyes searched the dance floor, trying to see if you recognized someone’s body language or movements. But everyone looked unfamiliar to you. Almost as if there was a fog over your eyes.

That’s when your question was answered. “There is a spell cast over the ballroom,” your mother speaks. “To ensure that no one recognizes each other until all masks are removed. When the clock strikes midnight, all masks are removed and everyone sees each other for who they truly are. Exciting, isn’t it?” your mother whispers as you smile.

It was truly a one of a kind experience. You stood and watched those who danced around you, quietly sipping on champagne. Your eyes drifted off to the sidelines as you looked at the people who were your age. Everyone looked beautiful. One girl wore a dress of ruby red and a large diamond necklace that hung gently from her neck as she made quiet chatter with what you assumed was her parents. Another boy wore a velvet suit of navy blue with shiny dress shoes. He quietly stood by himself, watching each and every lady in the room, watching out for who caught his attention.

Every one of the age of eighteen was on a mission it seemed. These people wanted to find their partner for the night and potentially for their life. The stakes were high. It made your heart race and your adrenaline pump. Your competitive nature was coming over you; you couldn’t help it. You were determined to find someone tonight if it was the last thing you did.

Suddenly, the music faded away and the sound of a clinking glass filled the room. “Good evening, esteemed guests,” a feminine voice called out. “Welcome to the annual masquerade ball!” she exclaims, earning claps from every corner of the ballroom. “As you all know, the ball is designed for young witches and wizards to find a partner. We welcome each of you with excitement for the journey that lies ahead of you. That being said, the time as come for the eligible witches and wizards to come onto the dance floor and mingle. Wizards, you may approach any witch who is eligible and ask to have a place on her dance card. Remember, do not tell each other of your names! The dances will begin in ten minutes, so get to talking!” Another cling resounds in the ballroom as eligible bachelorettes and bachelors flood the dance floor.

You turn to your parents and give them nervous eyes as your mother and father give you a warm smile. “You’ll be brilliant,” your father speaks as your mother grabs your champagne glass and hands you your dance card.

With a deep breath, you shake your head and walk out to the dance floor. Your heart was thudding hard against your chest. The moment you stepped onto the floor, someone approached you. “Good evening,” the boy bows as you curtsy to him. “Might I say you look gorgeous this evening,” he compliments you.

You smile, “Thank you very much. You look very nice as well.” He wore a simple black suit and a green pocket square. The detail made you think he was definitely in Slytherin house. Was he in your year? Did you know him personally? Was it Malfoy? No, Malfoy wouldn’t be this kind to you. But then again, he didn’t know it was you.

The boy speaks, “Could I have the pleasure of having a space on your dance card?”

He seemed friendly and kind, there was no reason to say no. Maybe as you danced he would become more interesting. “I would be delighted,” you respond as you hand him your card. He strikes the card with two x’s before returning it to you.

“Thank you, my lady,” he bows before walking away quickly to the very next girl he laid eyes on. You were startled at how quickly you moved, but quickly realized he had prepared some sort of script to dance with as many women as possible before his time was up. Clever.

You continue to make your way around the ballroom, chatting to a few more suitors here and there. Some men you found more charming and clever than other, while others you found yourself bored of, politely dismissing their request for a place on your dance card.

Glancing at the dance card tied around your wrist, you think to yourself about the gentlemen who asked for a space and you granted them the honor of a dance. The first space to the boy who wanted to ask every lady to a dance, the next to a tall, dark, and handsome gentleman with the deep voice, the next to a funny gentleman with a thick Scottish accent, and the last space empty. There was only two minutes left of the mingling before you were to dance with your suitors.

Too distracted by your dance card, you bump into someone else’s body, making you stumble a bit. “Oh my days, I’m so sorry,” you apologize to the body in front of you.

You look up and meet a pair of ice blue eyes that seem to stare into your soul. Your heart stops in its chest as you suck in a breath. In that moment, it felt like the whole ballroom had stopped moving and it was just you two in time. The two of you said nothing and just looked at each other, deep into the other’s eyes. It was if the man in front of you’s eyes held all the secrets to the world.

Clearing his throat, he speaks in a low tone, “No, I apologize. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You politely smile at him. “But in a way, I’m thankful that I wasn’t or else I wouldn’t have stumbled upon you,” he casually flirts making you blush.

The gentleman bows before you as you curtsy, maintaining eye contact with him the whole time. It was like there was some sort of magnet between the two of you. Was this what it was supposed to feel like? You remember Lottie saying it should feel like there were butterflies flying around and your head should be fuzzy, but none of those sensations were happening. You just felt hot in your face and your palms were sweating, thank goodness for your long gloves.

“I’m glad neither of us were paying attention,” you confess as he smirks. “You are much more interesting than what I was previously focused on.”

The mysterious suitor in front of you chuckles. “I can only hope that you have a spot for me saved on your dance card,” he speaks as you blush.

Teasingly you look at your dance card and fake gasp, “Well, would you look at that? One last spot saved for a special someone...” The gentleman chuckles again as he ticks off the last spot on your dance card.

He slips the card back around your wrist as you suck in a breath as he fingers touch you. “I look forward to our dance,” he bows as you reciprocate the gesture. “Until then, my lady.”

His eyes don’t leave yours until the very last moment as he walks away. You could swoon. He was charming, smooth, witty, and even though much of his face was concealed by his mask, you knew he was handsome. He just had to be. Your face felt hot and your mouth was dry. You knew that you would anxiously await him as your last dance.

With another few clinks against the glass, you are informed that it is time to start the dancing. But before people gather with their first partners, people run back over to where their parents were quietly observing. You excitedly scurry to your mother and father and small smile on your lips dancing as you approach them. Your mother smiles, “Anyone interesting?”

You don’t say a word and take a sip of the champagne that your father offered you. “I know that smile,” he beams. “Which one, darling?” You don’t speak. “Oh, tell us, dearest. We don’t know who any of them are, we are just as clueless as you.”

Sighing, you surrender. “The last gentleman. The one I bumped into.” Your mother scans the room, looking for him. “He has my interest the most out of all of them by far. If the dance goes well, I recon he’ll ask me to promenade outside,” you giggle as your mother joins you.

Your father speaks, “With a chaperone, I assume.”

You roll your eyes as your mother slaps him on the arm. “She’s eighteen, Samuel. She can walk outside with a suitor. Besides, there is security all around the manor. She will be safe.” Your father sighs as your mother looks at you and hands you your lipgloss to reapply. “Go on. Have fun. Play the field, dearest. Remember what I taught you.”

“Yes, Mother,” you beam before heading back to the dance floor.

There, the first boy is waiting for you, his arm extended. You walk arm in arm to the dance floor as the orchestra begins to play a ballroom waltz. His arm is around your waist gently, his one hand holding onto yours as you begin to dance. “Is this your first masquerade ball?” he asks you.

You nod, “Yessir.”

He smiles, “So you’ve just turned eighteen I presume.” You nod again. “This is my fourth ball. I’m hoping to find my one and only here tonight. Do you think you have met yours?” he asks.

You are taken aback by his directness. “Um,” you stutter, “I’m not quite sure. I mean we’ve just met each other.”

He retorts, “Yes, but sometimes you just know, don’t you. You know what I mean?” His eyes are fixated on yours in a fashion that is full of anxiety and nerves as he anticipates your answer. His eyes have a tired look in them, but behind their exhaustion, there is hope.

You gulp, “Nope.” He furrows his brows. “But maybe another lady here understands what you are saying,” you remain hopeful for him as he sighs.

“I am hopeful,” he speaks. “That’s all we can be.”

Before you know it he spins you away and you land in the arms of your second suitor. The tall, dark, and handsome one. You smile as he smirks down at you. “Good evening, my lady,” he speaks in a deep tone that makes you feel like a school girl. “You are ravishing.” You kindly thank him. “So, are you here like everyone else? To find a partner?”

You speak, “I guess so. My parents would like me to be open to the idea of finding a suitor, but I’m still young. I would like to enjoy my time as a single, free woman of my age and status.”

He nods his head. “I see, I see. My parents want me to find a wife here tonight. Me on the other hand? I really don’t want anything serious. I’m just trying to find someone to shag to be quite honest with you. I’m too young to be tied down quite yet,” he reveals as your eyes widen. His eyes on the other hand remain fixated on yours, but aren’t afraid to wander to look around at the other women on the dance floor. You watch his eyes as they occasionally find another woman’s and he drops one of them into a wink. He was a flirt, couldn’t be tied down type. Bedroom eyes that wandered through several bedrooms type eyes. You’ve dealt with those eyes before and were not looking to deal with them again.

You agreed with him on the part of being free and not finding anything too serious, but just a person to have sex with? That wasn’t what you were looking for either. “I see,” you tell him as he winks through his mask. “I’m not quite sure I want something that casual. I am looking for something more consistent, a little more serious than just a shag. More emotional intimacy as well.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugs. “It’s a shame. I found you quite attractive,” he sighs.

But before you can protest, he spins you away from him and into the arms of your next caller, the funny Scot. “Hello there,” he greets you as you meet his gaze. He wears a gentle smile with kind eyes. His eyes are soft and full of childlike wonder. It makes your heart swell to see someone with such eyes.

You softly smile at him, “Hello again.”��

The two of you dance back and forth, making light chatter here and there, him sliding in a joke when he can, earning a few giggles from you as he smiles. “How has your night been so far?” he asks you. “Has anyone caught your eye yet?”

You sigh, “The night has been tame so far, but no complaints.” He nods. “As for someone catching my eye, I cannot lie,” you smile as his interest peaks. “There was someone I met who I have my last dance with.”

The Scotsman chuckles, “That’s all you can ask for, isn’t it?”

You join in his light laugher. “What about you? Have you met someone yet?” you ask him as you continue to waltz across the ballroom.

You can see a light rosy hue appear on his cheeks as he smiles. “I have indeed,” he looks across the ballroom as you follow his line of sight. And there she was, dancing with the man you were dancing with before. The same girl from earlier with the gorgeous ruby red gown. “She’s wonderful. And I’ve only spoken to her twice and no more than a total of six minutes.”

Giving his forearm a soft squeeze, you repeat his phrase, “That’s all you can ask for, isn’t it?” He smiles. Maybe you didn’t need a suitor out of the Scot, maybe he was a good friend.

“In that case, we both don’t mind what I’m about to do,” he speaks.

And then he spun you around and off to your last dance.

And that’s when your eyes meet.

You inhale sharply when his hand finds the small of your back and he takes your hand in his. His eyes were still that beautiful ice blue that stared right into your soul and made you want to tell him all of your deepest darkest secrets. Eyes that could tempt you into making the most dangerous decision. Eyes that could lure you into a trap, but a trap that you wouldn’t mind being stuck in.

He breaks the silence first. “We meet again,” he smirks as you blush lightly. The two of you begin dancing as the orchestra swells with music, almost as if they waited to play the most enchanting music right now in this moment. The violins hum a hauntingly beautiful melody as the violas and cellos support the sound. The moment was more than you could ever ask for. “I must tell you, I loathe dancing,” he whispers, making you giggle. “But somehow,” he starts. “You make it feel alright. Not good, but alright.”

You lightly laugh, “I’m glad I can make dancing tolerable for you.” The two of you continue to dance, letting your gown sweep across the floor as the music crescendos. “How has your night been so far? Enjoying yourself?” you ask, curious to know where his mind was at. It had only been minutes but you wanted to know everything about the gentleman in front of you.

The gentleman sighs, “It’s been fine. Not particularly a huge fan of balls or dances. But so far, so good.” He drops his left eye in a wink. “And yourself? How have your other dances been?” he asks you.

You bite your lip and take a moment to think. Now was not the time to play a mind game with him, though you so easily could. But you let your heart get ahead of your head and speak, “None of them as good as compared to this one.” The gentleman laughs, turning away from you in order for you to not catch his delighted blush on his white cheeks. “And your other dances? Did they make dancing more or less tolerable?” you joke with him.

Before the gentleman answers, he looks at the ground with a small smile. He looks up at you and gulps. “I actually didn’t ask anyone else to dance. Just you,” he reveals, making you breath hitch in your throat. That was quite the confession. “No other lady caught my eye like you did.” You don’t turn away when you blush at his flirtations. His eyes stare into yours as your mouth runs dry. “You have the most captivating eyes.”

It felt like you were in a storybook in this moment. The way the orchestra played, how he held you tightly against his body, the way his eyes stared into yours. Your eyes harnessing the power and energy of a thousand suns, but his ice blue eyes able to tame the heat they gave off. Why did this feel so right?

“I don’t know if I should say this,” you start, “but I’m going to anyway.”

He laughs, “I love a girl who can speak her mind. Go on.”

You breathe, “I feel like I’ve known you forever. Like this isn’t our first time meeting. I feel like I’ve known you since the dawn of time.”

You can see him gulp and blink a few times. Did your words scare him? Were you too upfront with him? But before you can think of any more questions, he speaks, “It’s like you can read my mind.” You chuckle as he smiles. “I feel like I was supposed to meet you here, tonight, in this moment. Like this dance was...fate. And I don’t believe in fate.”

For the rest of your dance, no more words are spoken. The two of you just sway and dance to the orchestra that swells with beautiful music. You both gaze into each others eyes and watch the expressions that come across each others faces. With the occasional laugh here and there, absolutely nothing is said. Slowly, everyone around you begins to fade and it is just you two in the ballroom. Why was this happening? You prayed that this was a sign. A sign that this was right, he was right. But you didn’t get the feeling that Lottie was describing to you earlier in your room. Your heart was on fire and you felt like you were about to burst, but no stomach churning or head reeling. Instead, you felt like you were burning. Burning for this man. Burning for his touch. Burning for his attention. You could only hope he felt the same.

Before you know it, the orchestra finishes playing and everyone slowly stops dancing. The ballroom applauds the orchestra and you both join in, but don’t leave each others gazes. Soon enough, people begin to leave the dance floor to partake in other conversations or dance with other people or even promenade outside.

You smile at your gentleman and say, “Thank you for the dance. It was...magical to say the least.” You curtsy to him and turn away to go, but wished you didn’t have to.

Without even taking a step away, you feel him grab your hand. “Wait,” he speaks. “I’m sorry,” he breathes. “Would you...would you like to go for a promenade with me? Outside on the grounds?”

Your heart skips a beat as you sigh and smile, causing him to smile back. He had his answer right there. “I would be more than delighted,” you confess. “One moment please,” you tell him before walking over to where your mother and father watched you in anxious anticipation.

“So?” your mother beams as you nod your head as she smiles.

You had her your dance card and give your father a smile. “I’m going for a promenade outside with the last gentleman I danced with,” you beam as your father nods his head approvingly. “I will see you later,” you speak before walking back to your gentleman as he extends his arm to you.

Your father holds onto your mother’s arm, “Porpentina, how our daughter has grown.” They watch you exit the french doors out of the ballroom and into the gardens of the Malfoy Manor.

Still arm in arm, your suitor speaks, “Now, I know we can’t reveal much of our identities to each other, but I would like to know more about you.” You smile at him, holding onto his arm tightly. “What’s your family like?”

Smiling as you think of your mother and father, you start, “They’re wonderful people. My mother has been my sun, moon, and stars since I could remember. She’s passionate and smart and powerful. She’s everything I want to be.” The gentleman smiles as you tell him of your mother. “My father is incredibly kind though many wouldn’t believe that because of what he does for a living,” you laugh. “But he’s my protector. He’s sacrificed so much for me and for my mother. He’s the best man I know.”

He squeezes your arm. “They sound lovely.” You squeeze his arm back to let him know that his sentiment is appreciated. “Any siblings?” You shake your head. “In that case, we are similar. I’m also an only child.”

“What about your parents? What are they like?” you question him next.

This earns a gulp and deep breath from him. “Well,” he starts. “My mother is kind-hearted. Braver than anyone I have ever met. She’s suffered a lot and continues to suffer just to protect me,” he confesses to you. “I’m sorry I know that’s a lot, but-”

“You don’t need to apologize,” you cut him off, placing a hand on his. “She sounds remarkable. Please, continue.”

He smiles. “She is remarkable. The best woman I know.” You smile warmly at him. Your cheeks hurt so much from smiling. The gentleman takes a deep breath in before starting, “My father on the other hand. He’s a complex man. We’re not particularly close. But similar to your father, he protects me to the best of his ability. I’m not sure whether it’s out of love for his son or for some other selfish reason...probably the latter...” he trails off. You look at his face as it falls lightly. You feel for him. “But that’s beside the matter. I want to know more about you. What are your passions? What are your ambitions in life? What do you want to do with our lives that can be so fucking meaningless?”

You laugh at his joke, crinkling your nose as you do so as he watches you contort your face in delight. He thought you looked beautiful when you laughed. “Well,” you catch your breath. “I want to do something that my family never did. I want to pursue a career when I can help people. Other people. And I have no benefit from it. I just want to help others in any way. When I was a child, I used to want to be a Healer. Then when I was a little older I wanted to be an Auror. But now I’m thinking about being a Healer again or maybe do some form of charity work and philanthropy? I don’t know. I have dreams, but I don’t know which ones to pursue.”

You look at the man beside you and he’s smiling from ear to ear. “It all sounds wonderful to me. You seems so selfless. I’m not used to it, I guess,” he confesses. “But whatever you chose, I know you’ll be brilliant.”

The two of you continue to chat and walk through the gardens, discussing future plans, hopes and dreams, and whatever comes to mind. Talking to this man felt like breathing. It was so easy. Conversation flowed like a channel of water. The conversation seemed never ending and you were perfectly fine with that. You had completely forgotten that you didn’t even know what this man’s name was, but to be honest, you didn’t care. You already knew so much about him from your conversations, you didn’t need to know something as silly as a name.

You walk further and further through the garden until you come across a small area that was covered in rose bushes. It was a strange sight to see, beautiful roses in full bloom in the middle of winter, but with magic, anything was possible. As you walked closer, the masked gentleman plucked one from the bush and offered it to you as you graciously accepted. You continued to walk as he spoke, “There is a game called Rose, Bud, Thorn where you tell someone of the best part of your day, the worst part of your day, and something you are looking forward to. I want to hear yours.”

You nod, “Alright then. My thorn is having to wear this bloody fucking corset top all night,” he laughs at your comment. “My bud is taking said bloody corset off when I get home,” the two of you chuckle. “And my rose...I guess was meeting you,” you bump into his arm playfully. He smiles. “Your turn.”

He sighs, “Let’s see...my thorn is having to dance tonight.” You scoff. “Although, you did make it better...” he teases as you roll your eyes teasingly. “My rose is having the most beautiful, kind, and intelligent woman at this ball with me right now,” he breathes as you blush. “And my bud...” he turns to you as you take a gulp. His soothing icy blue eyes staring into yours made you shiver. “My bud will be taking off this bloody mask of yours and seeing your beautiful face.”

His face is so close to yours, you feel his breath against your lips. Your mouth his dry as you feel him moving closer and closer to your lips. His eyes look at your glossed lips before moving back to your eyes and inching closer and closer to you. Your heart was thumping out of your chest. This was all happening so fast, and yet you were alright with it?

But before he can kiss you, a guard interrupts. “All ball attendees must report inside as per the hosts’ request. It is almost midnight and time for the unmasking!”

The gentleman in front of you sighs as he turns to the guard and gives him a dirty look. “So much for a romantic moment,” he huffs as you chuckle. He takes your hand in his as you both walk back to the inside of the Manor, retracing your steps. You are only a few paces away from inside when he speaks, “Those guards always know how to ruin a bloody moment of mine.”

You furrow your brows and chuckle, “What do you mean?”

“They always seem to catch me at the worst time to tell me something important,” he speaks as you remain confused. He notices your confusion and laughs. “This will all make sense in a moment.” You contort your face in confusion, but before you can ask any further questions the same woman who spoke at the beginning of the ball spoke again. “Welcome back! I hope you all had a lovely night full of mystery and romance,” she giggles. “But now the mystery is over.” Behind her, the clock strikes midnight and bongs. “The spell over the ballroom has been lifted and you may all remove your masks! Please reveal yourselves to each other!”

Slowly, people reveal their true identities and you start recognizing people from Hogwarts. The girl with the ruby red dress that the Scot took a liking too was Pansy Parkinson. So many other familiar faces are revealed as you chuckled. This really was a magical moment.

Beside you, your mysterious man sighs. “Finally.” Your heart beats quickly as you turn to him, anticipating who the man behind the mask was. You hoped he was handsome like you had imagined him to be. Was it someone you knew? Maybe an old classmate? Maybe someone from Hogwarts? Who could it be?

Reaching behind his head, he pulls on the silk strings that hold his mask up. Gently he peels it off and runs his fingers through his styled hair. And that’s when your heart stops and drops into your stomach.

The platinum blonde hair, the icy cold, unforgiving eyes, the pink lips that curled into that smirk. It was all too familiar. All too familiar that it made your chest feel tight with venom and anger. How could you be so naive? How did you not remember those eyes? Those eyes that dug into yours. Those lips that spat such cruel and vile words at you when you were just children.

It was Draco Malfoy.

You inhale a sharp jagged breath as he laughs. “I know, it’s strange, but I’m assuming things are starting to click for you. Especially with how I know the guards and why they let us into the rose garden. But it’s me. I’m Draco. Draco Malfoy,” he speaks with a smile. You feel like you are about to vomit.

Of course, how could you not notice the guards letting you both through the gardens without interruption or protest? How did you not notice his wave of a finger when you needed to be let through somewhere? How did you let him distract you? How did you let yourself become so captivated by the man you hated most in the world?

“I think it’s only fair if I see you now,” he chuckles, waiting for you to take off your mask.

But instead of taking off your mask, you wanted to run. Run far away. Run so far and forget this whole night happened. Forget every word exchanged with Draco full of such adoration. This was a sick joke.

Draco notices your horror and he speaks, “Are you alright, darling?”

His nickname for you made your stomach churn. You felt ill.

You couldn’t look at him any longer. You turned away and began to swiftly walk away from him. “Wait, where are you going?” he asks as you weave through the crowd. “Please, don’t go!”

Your stomach was churning and your head was reeling. How could this have happened. Then it all clicks. Lottie’s words. My stomach felt like it was doing flips and my head was reeling. There was no way. This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. You were in love with Draco fucking Malfoy. This was a nightmare.

That’s when his hand grabs your arm and flips you to look at him. “Where are you going?” he laughs as he looks at you. “Are you that surprised?” he asks with a smile as you just stand there, trying to catch your breath. His brows furrow. “Is there something wrong? Do we know each other?” he asks. “Take off your mask so I can see you, darling.”

In pure anger and frustration, you hastily sigh and undo the masks strings quickly before ripping it off your face to reveal your identity. The smile on Draco’s face instantly drops as he recognizes exactly who you are.

And there you were, two enemies standing in front of each other, glaring at each other in the middle of a ballroom, surrounded by other young couples who were falling in love. The two of you just burning holes into the other. The energy of a thousand suns trying to melt the ice that stared right back at it. Two sworn enemies now destined to fall in love. What a conundrum this was.

“Call me darling again and I’ll hex you, Malfoy,” you breath through pants of sheer anger.

Your stomach was still doing flips and your head continued to reel. Your face was flushed. How could Draco Malfoy and your masked gentleman be the same person? It was impossible. Your gentleman was kind and charming and witty and smart and thoughtful. Draco Malfoy was vile and rude and unkind and selfish and self absorbed and loathsome. There was no way you could be in love with a version of someone who you swore you would hate until you took your last breath.

Draco’s face slowly moves into a cautious one. “(Y/N),” he starts. “I swear I didn’t know it was you. I was just as clueless as you. You have to believe that I didn’t do this on purpose.”

You laugh, “I don’t believe a thing that comes out of your mouth. I was stupid to believe that I could fall for a person as disgusting and despicable as you.”

And with that, you march away from Draco, ignoring his calls out for you as you approach your mother and father. Once they see you, their expressions change from excitement to concern. Before anyone of them can ask what was wrong, you demand, “We are going home. Right now. I want to go home. Please. Can we go home?”

You feel a lump in your throat and your eyes become hot with tears. Your mother grabs your hand as your father pulls out his wand to apparate you back home. The last thing you hear before you leave the ball was Draco’s voice calling out for you to come back.

Before you know it, you are back in the comfort of your own home, face stained with tears as you run up the stairs to your room. You ignore your mother and father’s call to tell them what happened. You slam your bedroom door shut and lock it before letting the sob rake through your body, shaking you from the inside out.

You were foolish to believe you could find someone at a stupid ball. Those fucking masks. Making you believe someone was something they weren’t. It was all a lie. Smoke and mirrors. And you fell for it. You fell for Draco and there was nothing that you could do to forget it.

You fell for a facade and you would have to live with that forever. How you were supposed to face him at Hogwarts was beyond your control.

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adorerdraco · 4 years

Text

Bugs and Hisses ✧ Draco x Reader

Summary: Halloween with Draco <3 Friends into BOO’s (teehee)

Warnings: mild drinking nothing tooo crazy but not encouraging it !

Words: 5.2K

A/N: this is my first one shot in like a month and i ofc had to do something for halloween even tho im a tad late but its still a halloweekend KIND OF !!!!!!! </3 I HOPE ITS GOOOD

“No, it’s a stupid holiday.”

Draco crossed his arms in a stubborn child-like way, a scowl on his face as he stared forward towards the front of the class where Snape was giving a lecture on the small but vicious Erkling creatures.

“Come on, please,” you pleaded quietly. Your gaze kept flickering between your easily-irked professor and the pouting blond beside you, hoping that in a few short seconds you would get the answer you were hoping for that way you could get back into your notes instead of possibly getting a detention or losing house points.

In all the years you’ve been friends with the Prince of Slytherin, you learned that he loathed the holiday and any festivities that came with it. Every year, you beg him to go out to one of the many parties that are thrown ranging from small gatherings to full-on blowouts or just do something halloween related with you, but he always refuses. His reasoning, as he put it, was that he was simply ‘too mature to be dressing up as a foul creature.’

You knew he mostly spent the holiday either asleep in his dorm or walking around aimlessly with Crabbe and Goyle to target unsuspecting first-years after the big feast but this year, you finally had enough of his anti-halloween agenda. You wanted to spend the evening and hopefully night with him laughing by your side and showing him how fun everything could be, but most of all - you wanted to see him in a costume.

“Please, if you go I will never ask you for anything ever again,” you tried again once Snape had turned his back to the class.

Draco pursed his lips as though he was genuinely considering it, his eyes still locked on the back of the greasy-haired professor before he turned slightly to you with a deep sigh. “Fine, but don’t expect this to be an annual thing.”

You gave him a bright smile, holding yourself back from jumping around in your seat and completely pushing aside the desire to throw your arms around him in excitement.

“I promise you’ll have fun.”

He hid the small smile that grew on his face from seeing how happy his answer made you, turning his head down towards his parchment filled with notes that all of a sudden seemed interesting as he avoided your gaze. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was the smallest bit of excited at the thought of spending the holiday with you because he knew that wherever you went or whatever you did, he would be perfectly content with you by his side because for the first time in all your years as friends; he realized only a month ago that the weird fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach when he was around you or the weird overwhelming warmth that spread throughout his entire body like an ocean of water breaking through a dam - was a crush. He hated it at first, noticing and begrudgingly acknowledging it. He thought it was cliche that he somehow fell for one of his closest friends and mostly, he thought that he was going to ruin the friendship entirely. He wanted to wreck it himself, trying to distance himself from you and being extra mean - but he couldn’t.

He adored your company too much and everything that came with you. He adores your laugh, your smile, your hugs when you greet him and how you somehow give him one each time he needs it the most. He adores the study-buddy system you guys have almost every other week before a quiz or an exam. He adores your bad jokes and clumsy accidents even though those qualities annoy him with anyone else. He adores the way you want him to join you in everything fun you and he especially adores the times when he overhears you talking about him as if he’s your favorite person in the world.

Bottom line, he’s all about you.

So when this season of spookiness came, he was expecting your pleading for him to spend the day with you. Only this time, it only took you a couple times before he ultimately agreed to give in to you.

You were ready to explode with thrill at the thought of what the night held in store for you and you didn’t hide it one bit. When the big Hogwarts Hallowe’en feast was over and every one began spilling out from the Great Hall and into the main foyer, you were searching restlessly for a clean mop of silver hair that almost always stuck out in the mass of students. You weren’t sure if you were able to spot him anywhere in under a few seconds because he was unimaginably important to you, or because his hair was so uniquely bright, or maybe it was how boisterous and loud Crabbe and Goyle always were when they were by him, especially if he was with other Slytherins - but you found him, every single time with ease.

After standing on your tippy-toes several times to overlook the stampede of everyone, you finally spotted Draco leaning across a pillar with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face while he stood in a circle of his House friends that included his two goons and his quidditch teammates. You watched him thoughtfully as you approached, taking slow steps towards the group to admire him from afar and also because they were all slightly intimidating. He looked lost in the conversation, laughs escaping from his upturned lips as he listened to whatever was being said, large pale hands running through his hair every so often when the front pieces of his hair would flop down to his forehead.

He looked ridiculously good and effortlessly at that.

You weren’t sure if you should interrupt, hesitating a few feet away from them to where they couldn’t sense your presence but you were close enough to see and hear them clearly.

“We’ll see you later tonight then, Malfoy?” One of the boys nodded towards Draco.

“I’ll show up for a bit, I suppose,” he shrugs.

You see him look around the circle of boys, eyes landing on you momentarily and then back to his friends before doing a double-take towards you again in surprise. You tried to ignore the butterflies erupting in your stomach when his smile widens slightly into a short-lived toothy grin while he said a quick goodbye to his friends causing them all to disband and him to start approaching you.

“Are you ready for the halloween of a lifetime?” You ask as he neared.

He rolled his eyes, laughing faintly. “Where am I meeting you, darling?”

The nick name he used so rarely for you made your knees feel weak, a warm blush rushing up your neck and inching onto your cheeks that you knew was going to be very apparent on your face in a few seconds.

“I’ll meet you right here in an hour,” you say quickly.

You didn’t give him time to answer before you turned quickly in the direction of your common room and began rushing away before he could see the effect he had on you that was so clearly appearing on your face.

You didn’t know what the night held for you and Draco or where it would lead you. Unknowing to you, you were both hoping something more could come out of the evening between the two of you. But he wasn’t one to express himself in that department of feelings and you weren’t feeling bold enough to say anything about yours. It was a gray area of hoping that fate could somehow intervene and throw the two of you into what you both wanted without either of you really saying anything - but it was impossible. There was no outcome or situation you had in mind that could lead you into that, so you were stuck desperately hoping that one day things might end up differently.

It was beginning to feel ironic how in your world full of real tangible magic, there wasn’t a magical solution to your problem. You were trapped feeling like a muggle who had to figure things out by themselves, no magic included. The thought of giving him a love potion did cross your mind as a joke, but it wasn’t a genuine or fair option but little did you know, you don’t need a potion for him to feel the same way - because he already did.

Walking into your dorm felt like an exuberant disaster of everyone running around and sitting in front of mirrors with their makeup or dressing into their costumes. It was noisy and filled with chatter and you were in shock from how much clutter everyone was able to make in such a short period of time from when the feast ended to now. A simple spell would clean everything up so you and everybody else didn’t really pay it any mind.

You maneuvered around the mess of your housemates and towards your bed where your costume was kept in the trunk underneath it, plopping down onto the floor to pull it from the underskirt of your House colored bedding.

“Did he finally say yes?” Your closest roomie friend jumped onto your bed, propping herself up on her elbows and resting her chin on her hands as she watched you dig through your bottomless trunk.

“Surprisingly, yes,” you answered, hiding the smile on your face.

She drawled out a teasing ‘ooh,’ poking your arm lightly with her index finger as you shied away and leaned deeper into your trunk. She was the only one who you willingly admitted your crush to as she was the only person you really trusted to not blather it off to someone.

“Will I be seeing you two in the Slytherin common room?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “The boys are throwing a party and I luckily got an invite, you know how they are. So picky with who shows up.”

“You mean they’re pretentious?” You laugh. “But I don’t know if we’ll be going to it. I know Draco obviously got invited but I was thinking we could do other things.”

“Like what?” She questions as if she knew it was going to be something dirty. “I know a few secret spots around the castle-”

“No, get your mind out of the gutter,” you smack her arm lightly. “I honestly have no clue what to do. I didn’t think he’d actually agree because he never does.”

She runs her hands over her face, stifling her laughs of disbelief before she sighed loudly. “I still suggest some broom closets, hidden out of sight.”

You sit up, pushing her from where she was lying while she laughed amusingly at your false horrified reaction that you put on to hide the fact from her that what she was suggestion really was what you wanted.

“I’ll leave you alone so you can get your costume on,” she smiles, jumping up from your bed and tossing one of your pillows at you as she walked away. You let out a huff, tossing it back onto your duvet before setting your costume down on the spot your friend was lying in.

You stared at it hesitantly, all of a sudden feeling nauseous at the thought of going out later with Draco as if it was some sort of date even though you knew it wasn’t. It was just two friends, hanging out, doing some spooky and fun Halloween activities together and nothing more; so why were you feeling so nervous? You weren’t sure if it was your instincts warning you of something major that was approaching or the fear that what you didn’t have planned was going to bite you in the arse when you continuously told Draco he was going to enjoy himself when you didn’t even know if that was going to be true. You didn’t want to disappoint him and mess it up for you in the future when the holiday came again and you didn’t want this to be the first and last time you experienced it with him.

The pressure was raining down on you like thick, hard pieces of hail with no end in sight.

As you were getting dressed and doing your makeup for your costume as you liked, (i’m trying to be vague for your own imagination teehee) all you could think about was what in the hell you were going to do once you met up with the Prince of Slytherin. Your train of thought was then derailed into wondering what he was going to be dressed up as or if he was going to be dressed up at all considering the way he is. He was the type to make fun of people who dressed up, that you knew when you ran into him last year as you were walking back to your common room with your friend, both of you in costume and victims of his gentle bullying. He obviously went easier on the two of you since you were there, telling you he was just messing around afterwards and saying he liked yours but once you were out of his sight but still in ear-shot, you heard him and his two minions berating a small group of people that unfortunately passed by them.

You gave yourself one last look in the floor mirror, letting out a long shaky exhale with your hands clasped together before you started towards the way out of your dorm, through the common room, and ultimately towards the foyer outside the Great Hall where Draco was most likely waiting for you. An hour had gone by since you last saw him, an hour of stress and panic that hadn’t slowed down or stopped.

Your shoes dragged against the stone floors, hugging yourself tightly as you walked nearer towards the spot where you were supposed to meet and as you lifted your gaze - you saw him there, staring right at you with a small grin and just like you expected, no costume.

“Nice costume,” he compliments when you reach him.

“Where’s yours?” You frown.

“I’m not dressing up. That’s embarrassing,” he shakes his head.

You scoff, crossing your arms. “You’re the only one not dressed up, that’s embarrassing.”

You don’t know why it was irritating to you that he wasn’t in costume, even if you knew he wasn’t. You figured it was because you were trying to overpower your nervousness with different more consuming feelings, and much to your and Draco’s dismay, it worked.

You weren’t nervous anymore, just irked.

“I’m staying like this, take it or leave it.”

You rolled your eyes, staring him down and hoping that he would change his mind but he wouldn’t. He was ridiculously stubborn.

In the heat of the moment of a fleeting thought, you decided that if he wasn’t going to be in costume, you would put him in one or at least a hint of one. You pulled your wand out, pointing it onto his striking white hair and with one easy spell, his hair was now a flaming vibrant red.

“Y/N!” He growled, running towards the closest thing that would show off his reflection where he let out a string of frantic curse words. “I look like a bloody Weasley.”

Your laughter caught him off guard, the sound ringing in his ears like music that spread warmth throughout him. You were clutching at your stomach with one hand and pointing at him with the other, giggling wildly at the sight of him with hair that did not suit him at all. He smiled to himself, your glee rubbing off on him abruptly that ate away quickly at his anger.

“You should’ve given me some ratty old hand-me-down robes and I’d look just like Ron,” he notes.

“That’s rude, Draco,” you say still laughing. He smirks, leaving the shiny statue of a knight in armor where he was checking his reflection and back over to you where you were still stuck in between doubling over in laughter and watching him.

“I’m glad this is funny to you,” he muses. He begins digging into the pocket of his dress pants, taking your vulnerability as a chance for him to tap his wand to the top of your head and before you could react, your whole hair had turned a deep green.

Your laughter immediately ended as you ran towards the suit of armor, your grimacing reflection staring back at you with deep Slytherin green hair and a distorted Draco behind you doubling over just like you were moments ago.

“This looks,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, the scowl on your face saying enough for you as you turned bitterly towards Draco.

“Great?” He suggested, his guffawing subsiding into airy chuckles as you stood in front of him. Yours picked up again as you stared up at him, his striking bright red hair looking terribly unfamiliar on him. He was looking down at you, his heart jumping at the sight of you holding back your laughter. “You really do look dashing by the way.”

You swallowed thickly, thankful for the darkness that had settled around the castle and easily hid the scarlet brush appearing on your face. “But my hair is green.”

“Green is my favorite color.”

You opened your mouth to speak, your stomach and heart dropping simultaneously as your mind went completely blank. You pretended to not notice how he took a step closer to you to where he was almost fully against you and he pretended not to notice the way your lips were parted and how your chest was rising and falling a little too heavily as if you were nervous. It was game over for you when his gaze flickered down towards your lips and then back to your eyes, his head leaning down just the slightest like if he were waiting for you to meet him halfway. You were about to get closer to him, about to let your eyes close and give in to what you believed was him wanting to kiss you - but the world had other plans.

“Malfoy! There you are!” Someone boomed, clambering up the steps from the direction of the dungeons. You both jumped away from each other, your attention diverted to the Slytherin boy that interrupted the moment. “Malfoy come on, the party! And you can bring her too.”

You frowned when the boy came up to the two of you, clearly tipsy, dressed as a stereotypical vampire, and over-excited with the fact that Draco was out and willing to participate in Halloween festivities. It seemed like it bothered the now red-head when he looked to you and then back to the Slytherin boy with an apprehensive expression.

The boy, sensing the pause in the air, grabbed onto both you and Draco’s arms and started dragging the two of you towards the Slytherin common room where although the stone walls were thick, the sound of people celebrating inside were easily slipping past the stone slabs. He spoke the password out quickly and as soon as the entrance was open, you were both shoved inside into what looked like the largest party you had ever witnessed in all your years at Hogwarts. It was packed and filled with what looked like half of the school, or at least a huge majority of fifth-years and up. It was loud with music booming from a brand new wizarding-world radio in the middle of the room currently playing a song from the Weird Sisters. It smelled like a mixture of everyone’s perfumes and colognes and like firewhisky. The boy that pushed you two inside quickly passed you two cups of the very potent firewhisky before downing the third one he had in his hand and disappeared into the crowd while screaming for you to enjoy yourselves.

You both stood awkwardly away from the big and rowdy crowd, your drink clenched tightly in your hand against your chest and Draco swishing his around while it was still in the cup.

He wanted to up and run, thinking that someone was going to make a comment about his hair or about him being there, but no one seemed to pay attention to him or that he was there and in a way, he felt relieved by it and less tense by the second.

“How in the bloody hell did we end up here?” You yelled over the music, putting a hand over his arm that was holding his drink up. You didn’t mean to, but you were glad you did because he glanced down at the contact with a small smile before looking back up to you.

“We got dragged here, remember!” He yelled back.

“What?”

“We got dragged here!”

“I can’t hear you!”

He rolled his eyes, bending down towards your ear to repeat himself one last time before you finally heard him over the mayhem around you.

“This is crazy!” You looked around the room, the sight of all the bodies and recklessness being too much as they were all more than likely drunk and oblivious to how stuffy and suffocating the room was becoming.

You looked down at the golden brown liquid sloshing around in your cup, wondering whether or not you should take it, but with the nervousness you felt coming back, it didn’t take you much longer to decide to down your cup and allow the liquid courage to seep into your veins. Draco watched you with amusement, chuckling to himself when you scrunched up your face in disgust from the burn he knew it caused as it went down your throat. He shook his head, deciding to drink his too and it was only minutes that passed before the drink was quickly becoming apparent in your systems. There was something about Firewhisky that always made its mark promptly and it really was courage in a bottle that you were glad was available to you in that moment because you were sure that in just a few minutes you were close to fainting.

You were beginning to sway faintly to the music, the rhythm sounding more loud but distant and more invigorating. You didn’t care anymore if anyone was watching or that Draco was observing you curiously just as he was beginning to lose all sense of holding himself back. He was inching closer to you, his head moving slightly to beat of the song and pure joy etched onto his features when your eyes met his.

“I keep forgetting I turned your hair red!” You yelled up to him, laughing loudly when he ran his hand through it. In your moment of confidence, you reached up and lightly ran your fingers over one of the front pieces hanging over his forehead. He didn’t stop you, his heart hammering against his chest from the drink and his overwhelming crush that was clouding all his senses. “Your hair is so soft!”

He wanted to pin you up against the wall right then and there. You were peering up at him, just as you were before you were dragged inside by one of his Housemates and as soon as he was about to kiss you.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He knew to bend down this time for you to hear him to which you responded with a fervent nod. You took his hand in yours, pulling him towards the exit of the common room and he let you lead him into the coldness of the dungeons that bit at his cheeks. It was a stark difference from the warmth inside, the crisp October air being more chilled than what either of you were expecting. It felt nice against your flushed skin and easier to breathe, especially once after the common room closed again and you could hear was muffled talking and music.

Neither of you were drunk and were still aware of pretty much everything, mostly the feelings stirring inside you both that was begging either of you to make a move towards the other. You were just a tad tipsy, and so was he, but it was enough for you to still enjoy the night without the initial awkwardness that oddly settled in between you. It was weird, considering how open and talkative you usually were with each other but there was something about the evening that made it feel like if you didn’t know each other.

“What now?” He asked you with a raised brow, his hand slipping into his pocket.

You smiled, an idea coming to your head that you knew he would love and you didn’t mind doing in the name of Halloween. “Do you want to go mess with people?”

He stared at you with widened eyes, “bloody hell, I love you.”

There was nothing that could have prepared you for his response, your own eyes widening in shock as you stared at him. He felt his face get hot in embarrassment, Merlin, he felt so stupid. He was mentally smacking himself in the head, desperately wishing he could bury himself seven feet under the Earth and staying there until the end of time.

He was about to play off what he said in a joking way, but for the second time that night he was interrupted by a couple that stumbled out of the common room drunkenly snogging each other’s faces off and wholly oblivious to you and Draco standing there in lingering panic. You jumped back into his arms when the couple staggered past you, almost knocking you over in the process of their makeout session and it annoyed you beyond belief. It annoyed you that they were in your way, annoyed that they interrupted you, annoyed that it wasn’t you in their position with the one you wanted.

You dug your wand out of your pocket, flicking it their way as they rolled onto the wall, still in each other’s hold until the hex that flew from your wand hit the boy causing him to stagger back from the girl and holding his nose in pain. You heard Draco laugh from behind you when bats began to fly out from the boy’s nostrils while the girl screamed and ran away from one of the bats that swept down onto her head. The bats flew out of the dungeon and up the stairs with the boy struggling loudly the whole way up until his panicked screams were no longer heard.

“That was a perfect bat-bogey,” he looks at you proudly. “I feel bad for that poor bloke’s nose.”

“Thank you, thank you,” you bowed jokingly.

When the sound of the door opened again, you both ran to hide behind a long drape against the wall that didn’t hide your shoes very well and pressed up against your bodies that’s shapes were no doubt visible from the opposite side.

You heard footsteps trail haphazardly down the corridor, their back seemingly facing you and as you both peeked your heads out from behind the drape, Draco nodded towards the boy and pointed his wand towards him.

“Slugulus Eructo,” you heard him whisper and a stream of green light from his wand hit the back of the boy’s head and as he turned around in surprise while doubling over in pain, his hand clamped tightly over his mouth as slugs began to slip past the spaces between his fingers. When he stood up to run away, you noticed it was the same boy from earlier that stopped you two from the almost kiss and dragged you to the party. You let out a string of giggles as he ran away just like your last victims.

“This is so mean,” you chortle, leaning into him from behind the drape in an attempt to get closer to him. You were feeling bolder when he beamed down at you, feeling happy knowing that although the night was still young, he was having fun. “Thank you for coming with me tonight, I know you don’t like Halloween.” You say quietly.

“You finally convinced me, it’s not that bad,” he grins.

“Why’d you hate it in the first place?”

The question seemed to strike a nerve but the Firewhisky still flowing freely in his veins tore away easily at his defenses so instead of avoiding your question entirely like he usually would, he frowned and let his guard down.

“I don’t hate it,” he answers apprehensively. “My father never let me celebrate it. He never let me dress up. He told me respectable wizards don’t partake in holidays like these.”

His pout made your gut twist in sympathy, your hand instinctively going into his as you squeezed it reassuringly. “It’s never too late to start celebrating. Besides, I don’t see him here stopping you.”

He smiled for what felt like the hundredth time that night, his stained-red hair falling over his eyes as he looked down to his shoes.

“You have a point, darling.”

The door of the common room opened again and what you suspected to be another snogging couple to stumble out from the sound of heavy breathing and multiple shoes scuffling about was something completely different.

“Glad Malfoy stayed with someone else today.” It was Crabbe.

“Yeah, he never lets us go to these parties,” Goyle responds. “Go ahead and thank Y/L/N for freeing us, he fancies her like a fool.”

“Reckon we should go look for them?”

You figured Goyle nodded to him like the blathering idiot he was because in a few short seconds they were running away up the same steps everyone else had.

You peered up slowly at Draco who was already gaping at you like a deer in headlights. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The gears in your brain were spinning wildly with happiness, the gossip hopefully being proven true when he didn’t try to deny it. You didn’t realize how close his face was to yours, cheeks tinged with pink from both the firewhisky and sudden shyness and his warm cinnamon breath fanning your face as he looked down at you.

“I can explain,” he finally said.

He didn’t need to; you placed your hands gently on his cheeks, pulling him impossibly closer to you and pressing your lips against his, catching him completely by surprise. His eyes were wide at first, his body rigid and his lips unmoving, but once it finally clicked that this was real and no longer a fantasy that played like a broken record in his head, his lips moved fervently against yours with the rest of his body following. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers squeezing at the hem of your bottoms and his body pushing even further into yours.

Your bottom lip caught lightly in between his teeth as you reluctantly pulled away from him, the both of you breathing raggedly as you searched each other’s eyes.

“I feel the same,” you said softly. “Happy Halloween.”

He smashes his lips hungrily against yours again, his ego growing with each gasp of a delight that escapes your mouth as your hands roamed and tangled themselves into his magically colored strands.

“Very...happy...halloween,” he mutters against your lips in between kisses, a dazy smile adorning your face while he tightened his arms around you.

You just couldn’t wait until next year.

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