Actor Tae

actor tae ♡

how did you manage to combine literally all my fave tropes (childhood best friends + fwb to lovers) and my need to read something with figure skating? it’s fate or something!! 2 chapters already so good <3

Ahhh! Tysm for the love! plz stop making me blush

Orbiting: pt.2°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader; enter figureskater!jimin] [2.3k+ idiot fwb to lovers; mutual pining, both has the libido of a teenage boy; this one's for the plot! but also i know very little about the technicalities of figure skating so please be kind; tysm for the love on Orbiting]

-

Nothing beats the feeling of being on the ice, you think.

Well, second to Jungkook’s bed, the rink is where you feel most euphoric. As you glide in circles and spin in the air, the wind in your hair makes you feel weightless, almost trouble-free.

“I think I’m ready,” you skate closer to the stands where your coach sits. Eagle eyes follow your form, yet her face remains stoic, “Let me try a triple axel.” With that, her brows crease. “Absolutely not,” she answers with finality.

Stubbornly, you prod, “Coach, plea—”

“We’re not risking another injury when you’ve barely healed.” At this, you scoff, “But I’m fine now. I’ve been landing double axels for months, haven’t I?”

“Yes, but still poorly,” your coach reasons as she looks at you. And you hate it. You hate how she looks at you with pity, making you feel incapable.

Brushing off your insecurity, you muster up the sliver of confidence and hope you have left. “You’re lying,” you start. “I’ve seen my form and rewatched my routines after every practice. I’ve gotten better.” You're trying not to let your emotion swallow you whole, you push your point, “You also said so yourself: I’ve been better compared to three months ago.”

You don’t realize how shaky and loud your voice had gotten with every word. Even you, yourself, sounded unsure of your recovery by the time you finished.

“Y/N—”

You know that tone. Your throat and heart constrict, “No. You promised—” but your plea is interrupted by the echo of the door banging, followed by footsteps until someone comes into view.

“Ah, Jimin. Finally!” Your coach ushers him to come closer to where you’re at a standstill with her. You’re a ticking time bomb, that at least you know. The last thing you should be around is people, so you skate away.

- “Your reputation precedes you, L/N.”

Stopping mid-stretch, you turn your head to where you hear the voice. It’s Jimin. He smirked as he approached you, skates hung on his shoulder.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sits beside you on the bleachers, plush lips tightening to form another smirk. In a different mood, you may have gushed at how full his lips are, but right now, you’re irked at how his hands take their time in lacing his skates.

“Don’t worry.” He’s facing you now and his hands flick softly to brush his parted bangs away from his face. “All I’ve heard about are good things. At least, to me.”

Your eyebrows crease. He winks, then skates away from the bleachers. You parrot your previous question, now skating after him.

“My friends said you were a stubborn one,” his voice loud enough for you to hear. Jimin slows down and lets you catch up to him. Now skating beside him, matching his stride, you ask, “And that’s a good thing because?”

“I like headstrong girls. It just means you’re determined, too. But I want to see for myself how determined you can be, Y/N.”

Jimin swerves, now skating backward, facing you. You almost crash into him, but he holds your arm, guiding you back into pace.

“Careful. If we’re going to be partners, I need to know you can keep up with me,” he teases, and it works because you’re riled up.

Of course, Jimin heard a lot about you. A couple of his friends auditioned to be your pair, but they all came home after a few weeks with rants about the ‘ice princess.’ No one would deny how pretty and talented you were, but those admirable qualities were overshadowed by how much of a ‘bitch you can be on the ice’ as his friends would describe it. He has also heard people go as far as saying how much your accident was a well-deserved one because you needed to be knocked down a peg.

He drew the line there.

Your frustration turned irritation now directed towards his smug ass. “You’re the one who’s trying out,” you bark as you pull your arms from his hand. “Nuh-uh, this goes both ways,” Jimin insists, a smile still plastered on his face.

“Fine. Let’s do a routine,” you give in. “But I take the lead. Keep up, Park.”

Not giving him the chance to disagree, you skate to the middle of the rink. Starting with a three-turn. You monitor Jimin on your peripheral vision, then, you proceed to do a salchow jump followed by loops.

- “Fuck,” you pant. Heat is running through your body, and with Jimin beside you exuding the same warmth, you feel even more hot despite being surrounded by ice. You can’t deny that running routines with Jimin was the most fun since your coach have been holding auditions for the past month.

“So…” Jimin starts, his green sweater seeming darker as it dampens with sweat. “Am I good enough to be your partner, Y/N?”

You laugh, “I could ask you the same thing.” Your frustration from earlier dissipated. “But yeah, you’re not bad, Park. Skills are mildly better than the previous three skaters we’ve had combined.”

Jimin scoffs. “Gee, thanks. Unfortunately, I need you to do one more thing for me before I settle on a verdict,” he challenges.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Do a double axel for me.” At this, your smile falters. “Unless, of course, you’ve grown rusty. If you ask me, those routines were safe,” he goads.

You hate this. You hate how he gets under your skin so easily despite having just met him. But you stand, and Jimin follows, dusting scraped ice off his pants. “I’ll go first,” he starts as he skates away for space. With bated breath and hope that he trips, you watch him glide around for a while, then launch to a smooth double axle.

Jimin chuckles, hands combing through his hair once again. “Your turn, L/N.”

You skate in circles, orbiting Jimin. You can do this, you think. You’ve been landing double axels for months now. Despite this, your nerves shake. But you’ll be damned if you get outperformed by Jimin. You ready your form as you take a deep breath.

It’s now or never.

In a millisecond, you’re in the air, and as you land your feet on the ice, you wobble until your body hits the ice. You yelp in pain, hands quick to clutch your ankle.

“Shit!” Jimin rushes to you. Eyes wide, frantically searching for your coach.

- Propped on the bed, you chew on jello as your coach chews your and Jimin’s ear off.

“What the fuck were you guys thinking? I left you guys to get acquainted, not compete,” she whisper-yells. You and Jimin exchange a look. His eyes are shy and guilty.

“Y/N, I told you to be careful.”

“I was,” you nod, scooping a mouthful of jello. Another tirade was ready to leave your coach’s mouth when the door to your hospital room opens.

“Y/N,” Jungkook barges in. Eyes focused on yours as he walks to your side. Your coach sighs, “Jungkook, talk some sense into her, will you?” She pleads before leaving your room.

On the other side of your bed, Jimin clears his throat and introduces himself, his arms outstretched for a handshake. Jungkook ignores it; eyes still on you, but his words are clearly directed at Jimin, “You can leave us now.”

Nothing is said further, and Jungkook sits on your bed. Jimin stands in disbelief.

“It’s fine, Jimin,” you break the awkward tension, “I’ll see you next practice.”

Jimin nods at you, “Right. Get well soon. I’ll visit you tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s head finally whips to face Jimin. “There’s no need for that,” he speaks with finality, staring him down. Jimin scoffs, but after a second, he relents, nods at you for a goodbye, then leaves the room.

As soon as the door closes, Jungkook's voice booms, “What the fuck were you thinking?”

You roll your eyes and end his incoming scolding before he can even start with a raise of your hand.

“You really are your mom’s son, huh? She said those exact words earlier,” you chuckle.

“Don't laugh. Nothing’s funny about this. You’re hurt, Y/N. This could have been really serious.”

You sigh, “I know. And I was scared, okay? But the doctor said it’s just a mild sprain. Nothing too serious, and give it a few weeks rest, and I’m good as new.”

Your hands reach out to straighten his furrowed brows. “You’ll get wrinkles if you keep scowling.” Jungkook pulls your hand away from his face, and for a while, you think you’ve really pissed him off. But in the same breath, he pulls your hand to his lips. “I got so fucking scared when my mom called me. I rushed here and I was even in the middle of eating.”

You snort out a laugh, and your other hand reaches the half-eaten jello and offer it to him.

“No, thanks,” he groans in disgust. “I think I’ve had my fill of jellos during your last stay here.” Cue another eye roll from you, “You’re so dramatic.” Jungkook laughs and just stares at you. There goes your heart again, doing somersaults, and you think you’re growing hot by the second he stares you down.

You clear your throat, “Well, there’s a vending machine at the corner, I think.”

Jungkook nods then stands, and you think he’s heading to buy snacks when he locks the door.

“I think I prefer the snack already here, though.”

And there’s the Jungkook, you know. While you’d rather twist your other ankle than admit that sleazy line worked on you, the fact that you’re in a hospital isn’t lost on you.

“You can’t be serious, Jungkook.”

“Oh, but I am,” he grins. Hands trailing on your legs, but he remains mindful of your sprained ankle.

“I’ll be careful, babe.”

It’s shameless how you’re already breathless. His name leaves your lips in lust-filled whispers. Pants discarded on the side of your bed, Jungkook salivates at seeing the wet patch on your underwear.

Giving in to his primal desire, he moves the cloth aside and licks at your pussy.

“Gguk,” you moan. “Not much time. Just fuck me already.”

His head shakes, and you feel his tongue move inside you. “I haven’t had my fill yet.” His thumb plays with your clit as he eases two of his fingers inside you. Your back arches, moans stuck in your throat and you remind yourself you’re in public, albeit inside closed doors, you know how thin these walls are.

Jungkook hums, and you look down at him. The sight has you gushing, and your bent knees buckle. He’s rutting himself on the bed as his tongue and fingers play with you.

“Jungkook,” you call his name with a moan. He looks up, but his fingers continue to go in and out of your pussy. Your expressions match each other—eyes lidded with lust and mouth open in silent moans and groans.

“Fuck me. Now.” Giving your pussy one last suck, Jungkook finally listens to you. The bed creaks as he kneels to unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down to his thighs.

You open your legs wider. “You really are my dream girl,” he grunts. “Will you take off your shirt for me, babe, please.”

You hum, watching him stroke himself as he waits for you to pull your shirt over your head. “I will if you will.”

In record time, Jungkook has his shirt scattered on the hospital floor. Scooting closer to you, Jungkook remains mindful of your foot. But it isn’t long until he rubs his tip to your clit.

“Say please.”

“Please, Jungkook.”

Satisfied at your whiny voice, he pushes his dick inside you. You both moan before Jungkook realizes where you are. And so he kisses you, mouth catching your moans. His hands move from your hips to your chest. Both of his hands full with your tits, fingers pulling playfully with your nipples. You wrap your good leg around his hips, foot pushing his ass closer to you.

Mouths parting for a breather, you lean back. It’s a filthy view, but the noises you make are extremely lewd. You now hear the metal creaking and your pussy squelching each time Jungkook thrusts inside you.

“Baby,” Jungkook whispers from your neck. “Don’t scare me like that ever again.” You would have sensed how earnest he was if you weren’t too lost in your pleasure. But you hum and tangle your hand with his hair, as you pull him for a kiss. His thrusts are now deeper and harder. “Cum for me, babe.” Your body at his beck and call, you cum. Milking your orgasm, Jungkook continues to pound your pussy.

“Mm, sensitive,” you whine.

“One more, baby,” Jungkook asserts with his hands going down to rub circles on your clit. You’re delirious. “One more for me,” he grunts as he thrusts, “With me.”

You can feel another orgasm slowly approaching, and you know Jungkook’s about to reach his high, too. You open your eyes and find him already looking at you. Your pupils are blown wide with lust, and in that shared moment, you knew.

You come together with breathy moans.

- Jungkook lays on top of you, his body keeping you warm. “You’re coming home with me.”

You hum, “Have mercy on my pussy, Jeon. I don’t think I can even walk out of here, and it’s not because of my sprained foot.”

He raises his head from your chest, thumb circling your side boob. “I didn’t mean for another round, Y/N. Get your head out of the gutter,” he teases.

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“You have a foot injury. You need someone to take care of you.”

Cue your heart somersaults.

At your silence, Jungkook thinks he said something wrong, so he tries to lay out a more acceptable reason for having you in his home, “I think my mom would also prefer that she watches over you as you recover. Can’t have you attempting to skate with an injury.” At that, you lightly smack his head. “I’m not that stupid, Jeon,” you scoff.

“Right,” he laughs and lays his head back to your chest. He leaves a kiss on your sternum and you struggle to breathe as you try to calm your heart on haywire.

-

>> Page 3

Orbiting: pt.2°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader; enter figureskater!jimin] [2.3k+ idiot fwb to lovers; mutual pining, both has the libido of a teenage boy; this one's for the plot! but also i know very little about the technicalities of figure skating so please be kind; tysm for the love on Orbiting]

-

Nothing beats the feeling of being on the ice, you think.

Well, second to Jungkook’s bed, the rink is where you feel most euphoric. As you glide in circles and spin in the air, the wind in your hair makes you feel weightless, almost trouble-free.

“I think I’m ready,” you skate closer to the stands where your coach sits. Eagle eyes follow your form, yet her face remains stoic, “Let me try a triple axel.” With that, her brows crease. “Absolutely not,” she answers with finality.

Stubbornly, you prod, “Coach, plea—”

“We’re not risking another injury when you’ve barely healed.” At this, you scoff, “But I’m fine now. I’ve been landing double axels for months, haven’t I?”

“Yes, but still poorly,” your coach reasons as she looks at you. And you hate it. You hate how she looks at you with pity, making you feel incapable.

Brushing off your insecurity, you muster up the sliver of confidence and hope you have left. “You’re lying,” you start. “I’ve seen my form and rewatched my routines after every practice. I’ve gotten better.” You're trying not to let your emotion swallow you whole, you push your point, “You also said so yourself: I’ve been better compared to three months ago.”

You don’t realize how shaky and loud your voice had gotten with every word. Even you, yourself, sounded unsure of your recovery by the time you finished.

“Y/N—”

You know that tone. Your throat and heart constrict, “No. You promised—” but your plea is interrupted by the echo of the door banging, followed by footsteps until someone comes into view.

“Ah, Jimin. Finally!” Your coach ushers him to come closer to where you’re at a standstill with her. You’re a ticking time bomb, that at least you know. The last thing you should be around is people, so you skate away.

- “Your reputation precedes you, L/N.”

Stopping mid-stretch, you turn your head to where you hear the voice. It’s Jimin. He smirked as he approached you, skates hung on his shoulder.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sits beside you on the bleachers, plush lips tightening to form another smirk. In a different mood, you may have gushed at how full his lips are, but right now, you’re irked at how his hands take their time in lacing his skates.

“Don’t worry.” He’s facing you now and his hands flick softly to brush his parted bangs away from his face. “All I’ve heard about are good things. At least, to me.”

Your eyebrows crease. He winks, then skates away from the bleachers. You parrot your previous question, now skating after him.

“My friends said you were a stubborn one,” his voice loud enough for you to hear. Jimin slows down and lets you catch up to him. Now skating beside him, matching his stride, you ask, “And that’s a good thing because?”

“I like headstrong girls. It just means you’re determined, too. But I want to see for myself how determined you can be, Y/N.”

Jimin swerves, now skating backward, facing you. You almost crash into him, but he holds your arm, guiding you back into pace.

“Careful. If we’re going to be partners, I need to know you can keep up with me,” he teases, and it works because you’re riled up.

Of course, Jimin heard a lot about you. A couple of his friends auditioned to be your pair, but they all came home after a few weeks with rants about the ‘ice princess.’ No one would deny how pretty and talented you were, but those admirable qualities were overshadowed by how much of a ‘bitch you can be on the ice’ as his friends would describe it. He has also heard people go as far as saying how much your accident was a well-deserved one because you needed to be knocked down a peg.

He drew the line there.

Your frustration turned irritation now directed towards his smug ass. “You’re the one who’s trying out,” you bark as you pull your arms from his hand. “Nuh-uh, this goes both ways,” Jimin insists, a smile still plastered on his face.

“Fine. Let’s do a routine,” you give in. “But I take the lead. Keep up, Park.”

Not giving him the chance to disagree, you skate to the middle of the rink. Starting with a three-turn. You monitor Jimin on your peripheral vision, then, you proceed to do a salchow jump followed by loops.

- “Fuck,” you pant. Heat is running through your body, and with Jimin beside you exuding the same warmth, you feel even more hot despite being surrounded by ice. You can’t deny that running routines with Jimin was the most fun since your coach have been holding auditions for the past month.

“So…” Jimin starts, his green sweater seeming darker as it dampens with sweat. “Am I good enough to be your partner, Y/N?”

You laugh, “I could ask you the same thing.” Your frustration from earlier dissipated. “But yeah, you’re not bad, Park. Skills are mildly better than the previous three skaters we’ve had combined.”

Jimin scoffs. “Gee, thanks. Unfortunately, I need you to do one more thing for me before I settle on a verdict,” he challenges.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Do a double axel for me.” At this, your smile falters. “Unless, of course, you’ve grown rusty. If you ask me, those routines were safe,” he goads.

You hate this. You hate how he gets under your skin so easily despite having just met him. But you stand, and Jimin follows, dusting scraped ice off his pants. “I’ll go first,” he starts as he skates away for space. With bated breath and hope that he trips, you watch him glide around for a while, then launch to a smooth double axle.

Jimin chuckles, hands combing through his hair once again. “Your turn, L/N.”

You skate in circles, orbiting Jimin. You can do this, you think. You’ve been landing double axels for months now. Despite this, your nerves shake. But you’ll be damned if you get outperformed by Jimin. You ready your form as you take a deep breath.

It’s now or never.

In a millisecond, you’re in the air, and as you land your feet on the ice, you wobble until your body hits the ice. You yelp in pain, hands quick to clutch your ankle.

“Shit!” Jimin rushes to you. Eyes wide, frantically searching for your coach.

- Propped on the bed, you chew on jello as your coach chews your and Jimin’s ear off.

“What the fuck were you guys thinking? I left you guys to get acquainted, not compete,” she whisper-yells. You and Jimin exchange a look. His eyes are shy and guilty.

“Y/N, I told you to be careful.”

“I was,” you nod, scooping a mouthful of jello. Another tirade was ready to leave your coach’s mouth when the door to your hospital room opens.

“Y/N,” Jungkook barges in. Eyes focused on yours as he walks to your side. Your coach sighs, “Jungkook, talk some sense into her, will you?” She pleads before leaving your room.

On the other side of your bed, Jimin clears his throat and introduces himself, his arms outstretched for a handshake. Jungkook ignores it; eyes still on you, but his words are clearly directed at Jimin, “You can leave us now.”

Nothing is said further, and Jungkook sits on your bed. Jimin stands in disbelief.

“It’s fine, Jimin,” you break the awkward tension, “I’ll see you next practice.”

Jimin nods at you, “Right. Get well soon. I’ll visit you tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s head finally whips to face Jimin. “There’s no need for that,” he speaks with finality, staring him down. Jimin scoffs, but after a second, he relents, nods at you for a goodbye, then leaves the room.

As soon as the door closes, Jungkook's voice booms, “What the fuck were you thinking?”

You roll your eyes and end his incoming scolding before he can even start with a raise of your hand.

“You really are your mom’s son, huh? She said those exact words earlier,” you chuckle.

“Don't laugh. Nothing’s funny about this. You’re hurt, Y/N. This could have been really serious.”

You sigh, “I know. And I was scared, okay? But the doctor said it’s just a mild sprain. Nothing too serious, and give it a few weeks rest, and I’m good as new.”

Your hands reach out to straighten his furrowed brows. “You’ll get wrinkles if you keep scowling.” Jungkook pulls your hand away from his face, and for a while, you think you’ve really pissed him off. But in the same breath, he pulls your hand to his lips. “I got so fucking scared when my mom called me. I rushed here and I was even in the middle of eating.”

You snort out a laugh, and your other hand reaches the half-eaten jello and offer it to him.

“No, thanks,” he groans in disgust. “I think I’ve had my fill of jellos during your last stay here.” Cue another eye roll from you, “You’re so dramatic.” Jungkook laughs and just stares at you. There goes your heart again, doing somersaults, and you think you’re growing hot by the second he stares you down.

You clear your throat, “Well, there’s a vending machine at the corner, I think.”

Jungkook nods then stands, and you think he’s heading to buy snacks when he locks the door.

“I think I prefer the snack already here, though.”

And there’s the Jungkook, you know. While you’d rather twist your other ankle than admit that sleazy line worked on you, the fact that you’re in a hospital isn’t lost on you.

“You can’t be serious, Jungkook.”

“Oh, but I am,” he grins. Hands trailing on your legs, but he remains mindful of your sprained ankle.

“I’ll be careful, babe.”

It’s shameless how you’re already breathless. His name leaves your lips in lust-filled whispers. Pants discarded on the side of your bed, Jungkook salivates at seeing the wet patch on your underwear.

Giving in to his primal desire, he moves the cloth aside and licks at your pussy.

“Gguk,” you moan. “Not much time. Just fuck me already.”

His head shakes, and you feel his tongue move inside you. “I haven’t had my fill yet.” His thumb plays with your clit as he eases two of his fingers inside you. Your back arches, moans stuck in your throat and you remind yourself you’re in public, albeit inside closed doors, you know how thin these walls are.

Jungkook hums, and you look down at him. The sight has you gushing, and your bent knees buckle. He’s rutting himself on the bed as his tongue and fingers play with you.

“Jungkook,” you call his name with a moan. He looks up, but his fingers continue to go in and out of your pussy. Your expressions match each other—eyes lidded with lust and mouth open in silent moans and groans.

“Fuck me. Now.” Giving your pussy one last suck, Jungkook finally listens to you. The bed creaks as he kneels to unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down to his thighs.

You open your legs wider. “You really are my dream girl,” he grunts. “Will you take off your shirt for me, babe, please.”

You hum, watching him stroke himself as he waits for you to pull your shirt over your head. “I will if you will.”

In record time, Jungkook has his shirt scattered on the hospital floor. Scooting closer to you, Jungkook remains mindful of your foot. But it isn’t long until he rubs his tip to your clit.

“Say please.”

“Please, Jungkook.”

Satisfied at your whiny voice, he pushes his dick inside you. You both moan before Jungkook realizes where you are. And so he kisses you, mouth catching your moans. His hands move from your hips to your chest. Both of his hands full with your tits, fingers pulling playfully with your nipples. You wrap your good leg around his hips, foot pushing his ass closer to you.

Mouths parting for a breather, you lean back. It’s a filthy view, but the noises you make are extremely lewd. You now hear the metal creaking and your pussy squelching each time Jungkook thrusts inside you.

“Baby,” Jungkook whispers from your neck. “Don’t scare me like that ever again.” You would have sensed how earnest he was if you weren’t too lost in your pleasure. But you hum and tangle your hand with his hair, as you pull him for a kiss. His thrusts are now deeper and harder. “Cum for me, babe.” Your body at his beck and call, you cum. Milking your orgasm, Jungkook continues to pound your pussy.

“Mm, sensitive,” you whine.

“One more, baby,” Jungkook asserts with his hands going down to rub circles on your clit. You’re delirious. “One more for me,” he grunts as he thrusts, “With me.”

You can feel another orgasm slowly approaching, and you know Jungkook’s about to reach his high, too. You open your eyes and find him already looking at you. Your pupils are blown wide with lust, and in that shared moment, you knew.

You come together with breathy moans.

- Jungkook lays on top of you, his body keeping you warm. “You’re coming home with me.”

You hum, “Have mercy on my pussy, Jeon. I don’t think I can even walk out of here, and it’s not because of my sprained foot.”

He raises his head from your chest, thumb circling your side boob. “I didn’t mean for another round, Y/N. Get your head out of the gutter,” he teases.

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“You have a foot injury. You need someone to take care of you.”

Cue your heart somersaults.

At your silence, Jungkook thinks he said something wrong, so he tries to lay out a more acceptable reason for having you in his home, “I think my mom would also prefer that she watches over you as you recover. Can’t have you attempting to skate with an injury.” At that, you lightly smack his head. “I’m not that stupid, Jeon,” you scoff.

“Right,” he laughs and lays his head back to your chest. He leaves a kiss on your sternum and you struggle to breathe as you try to calm your heart on haywire.

-

uhhhhhh orbiting is kind of everything ive wanted??? you ate i cant wait to read more

Aww. Thank you so much for the love! I’m super excited to build the story for this fic and it really makes me want to write it well when people share how they enjoyed reading Orbiting 😭🫶🏻

And thank YOU for reblogging 🫶🏻 I’m glad people are loving this fic!

Orbiting: pt.2°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader; enter figureskater!jimin] [2.3k+ idiot fwb to lovers; mutual pining, both has the libido of a teenage boy; this one's for the plot! but also i know very little about the technicalities of figure skating so please be kind; tysm for the love on Orbiting]

-

Nothing beats the feeling of being on the ice, you think.

Well, second to Jungkook’s bed, the rink is where you feel most euphoric. As you glide in circles and spin in the air, the wind in your hair makes you feel weightless, almost trouble-free.

“I think I’m ready,” you skate closer to the stands where your coach sits. Eagle eyes follow your form, yet her face remains stoic, “Let me try a triple axel.” With that, her brows crease. “Absolutely not,” she answers with finality.

Stubbornly, you prod, “Coach, plea—”

“We’re not risking another injury when you’ve barely healed.” At this, you scoff, “But I’m fine now. I’ve been landing double axels for months, haven’t I?”

“Yes, but still poorly,” your coach reasons as she looks at you. And you hate it. You hate how she looks at you with pity, making you feel incapable.

Brushing off your insecurity, you muster up the sliver of confidence and hope you have left. “You’re lying,” you start. “I’ve seen my form and rewatched my routines after every practice. I’ve gotten better.” You're trying not to let your emotion swallow you whole, you push your point, “You also said so yourself: I’ve been better compared to three months ago.”

You don’t realize how shaky and loud your voice had gotten with every word. Even you, yourself, sounded unsure of your recovery by the time you finished.

“Y/N—”

You know that tone. Your throat and heart constrict, “No. You promised—” but your plea is interrupted by the echo of the door banging, followed by footsteps until someone comes into view.

“Ah, Jimin. Finally!” Your coach ushers him to come closer to where you’re at a standstill with her. You’re a ticking time bomb, that at least you know. The last thing you should be around is people, so you skate away.

- “Your reputation precedes you, L/N.”

Stopping mid-stretch, you turn your head to where you hear the voice. It’s Jimin. He smirked as he approached you, skates hung on his shoulder.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sits beside you on the bleachers, plush lips tightening to form another smirk. In a different mood, you may have gushed at how full his lips are, but right now, you’re irked at how his hands take their time in lacing his skates.

“Don’t worry.” He’s facing you now and his hands flick softly to brush his parted bangs away from his face. “All I’ve heard about are good things. At least, to me.”

Your eyebrows crease. He winks, then skates away from the bleachers. You parrot your previous question, now skating after him.

“My friends said you were a stubborn one,” his voice loud enough for you to hear. Jimin slows down and lets you catch up to him. Now skating beside him, matching his stride, you ask, “And that’s a good thing because?”

“I like headstrong girls. It just means you’re determined, too. But I want to see for myself how determined you can be, Y/N.”

Jimin swerves, now skating backward, facing you. You almost crash into him, but he holds your arm, guiding you back into pace.

“Careful. If we’re going to be partners, I need to know you can keep up with me,” he teases, and it works because you’re riled up.

Of course, Jimin heard a lot about you. A couple of his friends auditioned to be your pair, but they all came home after a few weeks with rants about the ‘ice princess.’ No one would deny how pretty and talented you were, but those admirable qualities were overshadowed by how much of a ‘bitch you can be on the ice’ as his friends would describe it. He has also heard people go as far as saying how much your accident was a well-deserved one because you needed to be knocked down a peg.

He drew the line there.

Your frustration turned irritation now directed towards his smug ass. “You’re the one who’s trying out,” you bark as you pull your arms from his hand. “Nuh-uh, this goes both ways,” Jimin insists, a smile still plastered on his face.

“Fine. Let’s do a routine,” you give in. “But I take the lead. Keep up, Park.”

Not giving him the chance to disagree, you skate to the middle of the rink. Starting with a three-turn. You monitor Jimin on your peripheral vision, then, you proceed to do a salchow jump followed by loops.

- “Fuck,” you pant. Heat is running through your body, and with Jimin beside you exuding the same warmth, you feel even more hot despite being surrounded by ice. You can’t deny that running routines with Jimin was the most fun since your coach have been holding auditions for the past month.

“So…” Jimin starts, his green sweater seeming darker as it dampens with sweat. “Am I good enough to be your partner, Y/N?”

You laugh, “I could ask you the same thing.” Your frustration from earlier dissipated. “But yeah, you’re not bad, Park. Skills are mildly better than the previous three skaters we’ve had combined.”

Jimin scoffs. “Gee, thanks. Unfortunately, I need you to do one more thing for me before I settle on a verdict,” he challenges.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Do a double axel for me.” At this, your smile falters. “Unless, of course, you’ve grown rusty. If you ask me, those routines were safe,” he goads.

You hate this. You hate how he gets under your skin so easily despite having just met him. But you stand, and Jimin follows, dusting scraped ice off his pants. “I’ll go first,” he starts as he skates away for space. With bated breath and hope that he trips, you watch him glide around for a while, then launch to a smooth double axle.

Jimin chuckles, hands combing through his hair once again. “Your turn, L/N.”

You skate in circles, orbiting Jimin. You can do this, you think. You’ve been landing double axels for months now. Despite this, your nerves shake. But you’ll be damned if you get outperformed by Jimin. You ready your form as you take a deep breath.

It’s now or never.

In a millisecond, you’re in the air, and as you land your feet on the ice, you wobble until your body hits the ice. You yelp in pain, hands quick to clutch your ankle.

“Shit!” Jimin rushes to you. Eyes wide, frantically searching for your coach.

- Propped on the bed, you chew on jello as your coach chews your and Jimin’s ear off.

“What the fuck were you guys thinking? I left you guys to get acquainted, not compete,” she whisper-yells. You and Jimin exchange a look. His eyes are shy and guilty.

“Y/N, I told you to be careful.”

“I was,” you nod, scooping a mouthful of jello. Another tirade was ready to leave your coach’s mouth when the door to your hospital room opens.

“Y/N,” Jungkook barges in. Eyes focused on yours as he walks to your side. Your coach sighs, “Jungkook, talk some sense into her, will you?” She pleads before leaving your room.

On the other side of your bed, Jimin clears his throat and introduces himself, his arms outstretched for a handshake. Jungkook ignores it; eyes still on you, but his words are clearly directed at Jimin, “You can leave us now.”

Nothing is said further, and Jungkook sits on your bed. Jimin stands in disbelief.

“It’s fine, Jimin,” you break the awkward tension, “I’ll see you next practice.”

Jimin nods at you, “Right. Get well soon. I’ll visit you tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s head finally whips to face Jimin. “There’s no need for that,” he speaks with finality, staring him down. Jimin scoffs, but after a second, he relents, nods at you for a goodbye, then leaves the room.

As soon as the door closes, Jungkook's voice booms, “What the fuck were you thinking?”

You roll your eyes and end his incoming scolding before he can even start with a raise of your hand.

“You really are your mom’s son, huh? She said those exact words earlier,” you chuckle.

“Don't laugh. Nothing’s funny about this. You’re hurt, Y/N. This could have been really serious.”

You sigh, “I know. And I was scared, okay? But the doctor said it’s just a mild sprain. Nothing too serious, and give it a few weeks rest, and I’m good as new.”

Your hands reach out to straighten his furrowed brows. “You’ll get wrinkles if you keep scowling.” Jungkook pulls your hand away from his face, and for a while, you think you’ve really pissed him off. But in the same breath, he pulls your hand to his lips. “I got so fucking scared when my mom called me. I rushed here and I was even in the middle of eating.”

You snort out a laugh, and your other hand reaches the half-eaten jello and offer it to him.

“No, thanks,” he groans in disgust. “I think I’ve had my fill of jellos during your last stay here.” Cue another eye roll from you, “You’re so dramatic.” Jungkook laughs and just stares at you. There goes your heart again, doing somersaults, and you think you’re growing hot by the second he stares you down.

You clear your throat, “Well, there’s a vending machine at the corner, I think.”

Jungkook nods then stands, and you think he’s heading to buy snacks when he locks the door.

“I think I prefer the snack already here, though.”

And there’s the Jungkook, you know. While you’d rather twist your other ankle than admit that sleazy line worked on you, the fact that you’re in a hospital isn’t lost on you.

“You can’t be serious, Jungkook.”

“Oh, but I am,” he grins. Hands trailing on your legs, but he remains mindful of your sprained ankle.

“I’ll be careful, babe.”

It’s shameless how you’re already breathless. His name leaves your lips in lust-filled whispers. Pants discarded on the side of your bed, Jungkook salivates at seeing the wet patch on your underwear.

Giving in to his primal desire, he moves the cloth aside and licks at your pussy.

“Gguk,” you moan. “Not much time. Just fuck me already.”

His head shakes, and you feel his tongue move inside you. “I haven’t had my fill yet.” His thumb plays with your clit as he eases two of his fingers inside you. Your back arches, moans stuck in your throat and you remind yourself you’re in public, albeit inside closed doors, you know how thin these walls are.

Jungkook hums, and you look down at him. The sight has you gushing, and your bent knees buckle. He’s rutting himself on the bed as his tongue and fingers play with you.

“Jungkook,” you call his name with a moan. He looks up, but his fingers continue to go in and out of your pussy. Your expressions match each other—eyes lidded with lust and mouth open in silent moans and groans.

“Fuck me. Now.” Giving your pussy one last suck, Jungkook finally listens to you. The bed creaks as he kneels to unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down to his thighs.

You open your legs wider. “You really are my dream girl,” he grunts. “Will you take off your shirt for me, babe, please.”

You hum, watching him stroke himself as he waits for you to pull your shirt over your head. “I will if you will.”

In record time, Jungkook has his shirt scattered on the hospital floor. Scooting closer to you, Jungkook remains mindful of your foot. But it isn’t long until he rubs his tip to your clit.

“Say please.”

“Please, Jungkook.”

Satisfied at your whiny voice, he pushes his dick inside you. You both moan before Jungkook realizes where you are. And so he kisses you, mouth catching your moans. His hands move from your hips to your chest. Both of his hands full with your tits, fingers pulling playfully with your nipples. You wrap your good leg around his hips, foot pushing his ass closer to you.

Mouths parting for a breather, you lean back. It’s a filthy view, but the noises you make are extremely lewd. You now hear the metal creaking and your pussy squelching each time Jungkook thrusts inside you.

“Baby,” Jungkook whispers from your neck. “Don’t scare me like that ever again.” You would have sensed how earnest he was if you weren’t too lost in your pleasure. But you hum and tangle your hand with his hair, as you pull him for a kiss. His thrusts are now deeper and harder. “Cum for me, babe.” Your body at his beck and call, you cum. Milking your orgasm, Jungkook continues to pound your pussy.

“Mm, sensitive,” you whine.

“One more, baby,” Jungkook asserts with his hands going down to rub circles on your clit. You’re delirious. “One more for me,” he grunts as he thrusts, “With me.”

You can feel another orgasm slowly approaching, and you know Jungkook’s about to reach his high, too. You open your eyes and find him already looking at you. Your pupils are blown wide with lust, and in that shared moment, you knew.

You come together with breathy moans.

- Jungkook lays on top of you, his body keeping you warm. “You’re coming home with me.”

You hum, “Have mercy on my pussy, Jeon. I don’t think I can even walk out of here, and it’s not because of my sprained foot.”

He raises his head from your chest, thumb circling your side boob. “I didn’t mean for another round, Y/N. Get your head out of the gutter,” he teases.

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“You have a foot injury. You need someone to take care of you.”

Cue your heart somersaults.

At your silence, Jungkook thinks he said something wrong, so he tries to lay out a more acceptable reason for having you in his home, “I think my mom would also prefer that she watches over you as you recover. Can’t have you attempting to skate with an injury.” At that, you lightly smack his head. “I’m not that stupid, Jeon,” you scoff.

“Right,” he laughs and lays his head back to your chest. He leaves a kiss on your sternum and you struggle to breathe as you try to calm your heart on haywire.

-