IMAGINE... d.l.

Who's That Girl Watchin' My Hips? (au)

(in which you and Demi attend dance class)

You slump against the wall and slide down it, panting and sweating hard. Two hours of dance and two more to go. You have a 10 minute water break right now.

You have been attending dance class since the beginning of the year. You've had over two shows this year and your next one is two months from now, so you've been practicing for it as much as you can. But dance class isn't the same as in the beginning. It's distracting.

And that's all because of Demi Lovato.

You watch her as she practicing, her leg and footwork fantastic. She puts her right leg out and dips fast, her red hair swinging over her face, until she rolls up slowly, her back arched, her hair slowly moving out of her face.

It's the sexiest thing you have ever seen.

Demi first started attending dance class about two months ago when you were all just getting ready to start on your new dance. She's been perfect ever since then. Every roll of her body, every sway of her hips, ever work of her feet, is perfection. And that fact that her face and body are also perfection makes her a triple threat.

Not to mention her ass is perfect. It's worse when she wears sweatpants and leggings, and the tank tops and crop tops show off her gorgeous arms and toned stomach.

Many guys have been crawling over each other to ask her out and girls have been hating on her since she got here. They have a right to be. There are some stuff you're jealous about when it comes to Demi, but you mostly just wanna ask her out. But you're just too shy and she's way out of your league.

When Demi's done rolling up, her eyes suddenly meet yours and you feel your breath catch in your throat. Your eyes slowly trail up and down, examining her and her outfit which is a white, short-sleeved, crop top blouse with the word "dance" printed in big, black letters on the front, black trim sweatpants that show off her tan ankles, and black high-heeled sitellthos and you wonder how the hell she can move in them. She smiles at you, her hair slowly falling out of her face so you can admire it, and she bites her bottom lip before she twirls, her hair flying, and sways over to her stuff.

You feel your breathing get faster and your skin get hotter. You realize that your water bottle isn't gonna work so you get up and walk out of the dance studio to go to the bathroom. As you walk in, three girls that you desperately hate turn to you and smirk, one of them laughing. You just roll your eyes and walk into the stall.

"Did you see how chubby she is?" you hear one of the girls laugh and you know they're talking about you.

"Yeah," another one laughs. "That T-shirt isn't hiding much." You look down at your Marvel T-shirt before you listen to what they say next.

"She's not as fat as Demi though." Your eyes widen at this. Did they just say Demi was fat?

"OMG, yes! Did you see how fat her ankles are? She's like a fucking pig!"

"And she sashays around in those crop tops and shit. It's disgusting!"

You can't taken anymore of this and walk out of the stall, facing the three girls. "How dare you?" you ask, anger coursing through you. "I don't care about y'all callin' me fat 'cause I know it isn't true, but y'all callin' Demi fat is not expectable. She is as toned as all of you combined and is as much as a dancer as all of us. Y'all are just jealous how pretty she is and how much attention she's getting. Why don't y'all go stick that up your asses and cry about it?"

All three girls look at you wide-eyed before the blonde snarls and walks up to you. She smacks you so fast and hard across the face that it takes you a moment to realize that she hit you. She then pushes you down and you fall on your ass onto the dirty, tiled floor, staring up at her.

"Aye!" You turn around to see Demi behind you, her arms crossed. Her face looks deathingly calm, but you can tell she's seething. For what, you don't understand. "Any problems in here?"

The three girls look scared beyond belief and you smirk. That's what they get. "No," the blonde girl squeaks out.

"Oh, really? Then why is Y/N on the floor?" Demi asks, nodding at you. You can't help but feel your heart sore at the fact that she knows your fucking name.

"What are you gonna do?" the raven-haired girl in the back asks with a smirk. "Beat us up?"

"I might as well," Demi asks, walking up to the three girls slowly, "but I'm not going to because I'm too nice. But if I wasn't, you'd all be bleeding and bruised right about now. Don't fuck with me, y'all. I'm the one to fuck with. Do y'all understand what I'm saying?" The three girls nod frantically before Demi says, "Now get outta here. Now!"

Once the three girls hurriedly walk out and shut the door, Demi turns to you and holds out her hand. You put your hand in hers, trying to ignore the feeling of it, and she pulls you up. Once you're on your feet, she slowly lets your hand go. "You okay?" she asks.

"Yeah," you say, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Thanks for that."

"No problem," she says with a small smile and then her face crumbles. "Aw, your cheek is red."

"That's 'cause I got slapped," you say, rubbing your cheek. "It stings like hell too."

"Here, c'mere," she says, grabbing your wrist gently and walking you over to the sink. She instructs you to sit on the edge of it and takes some paper towels and folds them up before running some cold water and then slowly pressing it to your cheek. "How's that feel?"

"Good, actually," you say, gripping the edge of the sink in order to keep yourself from grabbing Demi's hips, but she's so close, it's impossible. You can smell the perfume and sweat on her.

"Sorry about what happened," she says, rolling her eyes at the memory.

"It's fine," you say. "I'm not dead or anythin'. And thanks for this and for everything else you did just a minute ago."

"No problem," she says. "You know, you really dance amazingly, Y/N."

"I do?" you ask, your eyebrows knitted together.

"Definetly," she says, smiling. "How long have you been dancing?"

"I don't even know," you say, shifting slightly on the edge of the sink. "Since I was, like, 4."

"Damn, girl!" she laughs. "That's a long time. I've been doing it since I was, what, like...10, I think?"

"That's a while too," you say.

"Not as long as you though," she says.

You smile and take out your phone to check your phone to see you have 3 minutes left of break time. When you inform this to Demi, she rings out the paper towel and throws it away before helping you down from the sink.

"You know, I've been meaning to ask you, Y/N," Demi says as you both walk back to the dance room. "There's this part of the second dance that we're doing that I don't get and I was wondering if you could help me with it."

Your eyes widen just as your heart picks up speed. "Uh, sure," you say. "Yeah, I can do that. You want me to show you during class today or...?"

"We can do it tomorrow if you want," she says. "Since it's Saturday and all. I'll give you my number."

"I don't have anything to do," you say with a shrug, but can't hide your smile.

"Great!" she says with a gorgeous grin. "I'll give it to you after class. Speakin' of class, let's hurry there before we get our asses lit."

You laugh as you both jog towards class, your heart pumping wildly from the work out and from the fact that you were just practically asked out by Demi.