𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐍

hoseok *

DON'T MAKE ME MAD

- in which pissing off hoseok during dance rehearsals turns out to be the best idea you've had in a while; smut warning!

Huffing, you spread yourself out on the cool yet sticky floor, your chest rising up and down in uneven patterns as you find it becoming a struggle to get air into your system, each breath burning through your throat and lungs as if you had swallowed fire. Lazily rolling your head to the side, you spot an equally burned out looking Hoseok leaning against the fogged up mirror, beads of sweat decorating his skin as his expression twists into something that can only be described as sour.

Deciding that you should probably look away, you find yourself unable to when his darkened eyes meets yours, the silence in the room more suffocating than your struggle to breath with neither of you showing any sign of making a move to break the awkward eye contact.

Swallowing thickly, you manage to shut your eyes, using your tiredness as an excuse when you begin to question why you did so. Thinking that you may get some rest with Hoseok staying oddly quiet, you make yourself comfortable on the floor just as he clears his throat.

"Get up, Y/N, it's been ten minutes already. We have to practice," he orders as he pushes himself off the mirror and takes slow steps until he's in front of you, staring you down as if daring you to object.

"I don't think so. It's past 10 at night and I am absolutely exhausted. If I so much as move another inch, I may die and I am not willing to take the risk," you exclaim dramatically, rolling yourself so that your stomach is pressed against the floor, eyes immediately travelling up to meet the sight of your reflection in the mirror.

To say that you look like a mess would be a severe understatement: your hair is falling from its bun on top of your head, several strands stuck to the side of your face with sweat, you're sweatier than you've ever been before, there being multiple damp spots on your shirt and your lips are dry and chapped from dehydration while your stomach growls for some food.

It is clear to you now that spending over nine hours in the studio certainly takes its toll on you.

He crouches down beside you, meeting your reflection's gaze with a ghost smile tracing the outline of your lips as his hand makes contact with your behind for a friendly pat, your eyes widening at the action as he speaks.

"Come on, stop being dramatic. We can practice the choreo at ten more times tonight and then head home," he explains as you groan in refusal and bury your face into your arms, curling yourself up into a small ball as you shake your head slowly.

"Hoseok, please. We've been here for over nine hours already and I can't do this anymore. I'm not a professional dancer so the choreo is ripping me to shreds. Please, let's just go home. I think we both need some food and sleep," you whine as you roll onto your side, your back facing him as you continue to ignore the pats on your butt.

"Go away," you mumble sleepily, your heavy eyes finally giving in as they slowly flutter shut, hoping that the chances of you walking out of this studio without doing the dance another ten times isn't as slim as it's shaping out to be.

He rolls his eyes, leaning over you to tightly grip onto your wrists and pull you up to stand, ignoring your immediate groans of pain as your muscles burn from the simple movement. Now feeling numb, you yank your wrists out of his hold and stumble to your belongings that are dumped onto the couch, swiping them up in your arms before making a beeline to the door that's right next to mirror that Hoseok now leans on.