#he is dancing (waltz specifically) if that’s not clear lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

echo-hiraeth · 3 years

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Princesa - Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Summary: Frankie is eager to find out what it is his girl does for a living, but she’s rather reserved about it. Until they run into each other at a birthday party.

Warnings: Profanities, mentions of injury, little bit of angst, but overall very fluff

Masterlist

A/n: I didn’t pick a specific princess, so everyone can feel included :)) feel free to imagine whichever one lol, go wild!

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?”, he asked, leaving a trail of kisses on your neck.

You scratched at his scalp, smiling down at him. “I get what you’re trying to do”, you chuckle.

“What? Bull-shit! Me, a secret agenda?”, he jested, lying his absolute ass off.

“You jerk! Pretending to care about my safety huh?”, you continued to taunt.

He poked your sides, burying his scruff in your neck. “Can you blame me? You work in ‘entertainment’ that could literally be anything, I just want to knowwww”, he whined.

“Patience, my dear, is the greatest virtue of all. Now unhand me, I have entertainment business to attend tomorrow.”

He pouted, tightening his strong arms around you. “Why can’t you just stay the night, princesa?”

“Because I have a lot of getting ready to do”, you answered, wiggling out of his iron grip.

“Alright, alright, fair enough, but let me come see you after”, he bargained, handing you your shirt off the floor.

You put it on, standing up to button your jeans. “I’ll text you, okay? I love you Frankie.”

He kissed you goodnight, walking you to your car and waving as you drive past. Luckily he had something to preoccupy his mind tomorrow, it was one of Redfly’s girls’ birthday. Tom had invited all the guys to help him out, a bunch of seven year-olds not exactly something he was equipped for.

The two of you had been dating for about half a year now, though you’d only gone public in your fourth month. Frankie had introduced you to some of the guys already, Redly and Ironhead being the ones you had yet to meet. So when you got an e-mail seeing if you could attend a seven year-old’s birthday tomorrow as a Disney princess. The one big mystery had been your job, you’d roughly told Frankie what you did without ever telling him what you did. It had been a big deal to you, some of your exes either breaking up over it or being really creepy about it. Everything had gone so smoothly with Frankie, as if it was always meant to be, and the longer you were dating, the more the talk about your job stressed you out.

The next morning you were up early, showering while trying to think of a way to tell Frankie. Too bad you weren’t allowed to drink on the job, you could use a shot for courage right about now, at ten am in the morning. Getting out of the shower you made your way to your wardrobe, pulling out the drycleaner’s bag with your dress for the day. You put on all the layers, trotting back to the bathroom to do your make-up and put on that damned wig. They really didn’t pay you enough for this, more than once had you nearly passed out from the heat, the wig and excessive uniform nothing short of restricting and suffocating in summer.

You sat down in the kitchen, eating a quick lunch and checking up on your work e-mails before heading off. The drive was supposed to be just under two hours, so you had time to rehearse your little act in the car, singing along to the karaoke version of the assigned princess’ song. You loved it though, seeing those kids’ faces light up as you walked into the room, tugging on the skirt of your dress, singing along with you. It was a very fulfilling job, but a tough industry nonetheless, more than once had a father taken you aside, asking you if you did anything else on the side. It was downright inappropriate and having to walk it off and smile hadn’t always proved easy. You had a good feeling about today though, humming along to the music as you drove, waving at kids and parents in passing.

As per usual you parked a couple houses down the road, not wanting to blow your cover of being a mundane girl rather than a glorified princess. You texted the father of the kid, communicating that you were ready to go. He texted you the OK, telling you to just come around the back. You took a deep breath, putting on your trademark smile as you opened the fence, walking into the garden.

“Look kids, the princess is here!”, somebody announced.

About a dozen of little heads turned your way, some squealing and screaming went along with it, as per usual. You waved excitedly, making a reverence to the birthday girl.

“Tessa! Happy birthday darling!”, you cooed, engulfing the little girl in a hug.

Some of the kids gathered around you, immediately starting the crossfire of interrogation, asking where your prince was, if the other princesses would be coming too, where your castle was, and so on and on. You answered each and every one of their questions, giggling and chuckling as they grew more and more excited.

Frankie was in the kitchen when you arrived, flipping pancakes with Santiago. “Think the princess is here”, he sighed.

“Think she’s hot?”, Pope asked.

“Hope not, Benny won’t be able to keep his hands off”, he chuckled.

Will walked in with some empty bottles. “Those kids are gonna sleep well tonight.”

“Ironhead”, Santi called, “she hot?”

He wolf-whistled, fervently nodding. “Drop-dead-gorgeous is what she is! Go have a look, I’ll take over.”

The two of them went outside with some new bottles of soda and water, setting them down on the table before looking in the direction of all the commotion. Frankie was sipping on some coke as he followed Santi, nearly choking on his drink as he spotted you.

“No way, Fish!”, Santi laughed, doubling over in his enthusiasm.

“That your girl?”, Tom asked with a confused look on his face.

He was rendered speechless, just slowly nodding as he looked at you. This was your “entertainment” job you refused to tell him about? So you weren’t like a private dancer? Just a.. princess for hire? He didn’t know whether to be relieved or not, feeling bewildered more than anything. When the initial shock settled he could actually take a good look at you. Will was right, you did look gorgeous, beaming like that. The dress was beautiful too, making you look regal, if not divine. It was a sight Frankie could get used to, you were adorable. You looked up from where you were crouched, talking to some kid and locked eyes with him.

A fucking deer in headlights. You felt your heart drop, blood rushing to your face. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure, not wanting any of the kids to suspect anything was off. But fuck, this wasn’t the plan at all.

He disappeared back into the kitchen, a mischievous smirk plastered on his face. At least Benny would keep his hands off. Will clasped his shoulder, grinning wickedly. “Goddamn Fish, you got yourself a whole princess, huh?”

Normally you felt rather comfortable in your role, singing and dancing for and with the kids as they please, but now, knowing that your boyfriend was here.. it was gonna be a long two hours. Everything was fine until Tessa tugged on your corset, beckoning you to bend down a little.

“Yes, dear?”, you asked.

“My uncles are staring at you”, she whispered, “maybe you should dance with them.”

Your lips curled up involuntarily, your bashfulness gaining the upper hand. “Is that what you really want, Tessa?”

The little girl nodded, twisting some of your locks around her tiny finger. “But uncle Frankie has a girlfriend, so you can’t dance with him”, she explained.

“Of course, that would not be very ladylike”, you assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Your pick, love.”

She hauled you over to Santiago of all guys, giggling as she ran away, leaving the two of you just awkwardly standing there. “Tessa wants us to dance”, you sighed, picking at your fingers.

“Did she now?”, he humoured, “Well who am I to turn a princess down.”

He extended his hand, motioning for you to take it. And so you did. The two of you walked back over to the improvised dance floor. Everyone’s eyes were on you now, as Santiago placed a hand on your waist, the other one holding onto your palm. It was one simple waltz, where he learned this you didn’t know, but as you spun around you caught a glimpse of your surroundings. All the way in the back stood Frankie, leaning against a doorpost.

“Don’t worry about him, he can take it”, Pope soothed you, circling around once more.

You twirled out of his grasp, only to come back in four counts later. “I just feel bad that I didn’t tell him.”

“He’ll understand, but for now, let’s annoy him a bit more.”

You couldn’t help but huff out a laugh at this, nodding before you devoted all your attention to the dance again. At the end you curtsied, as did he, pressing a tender kiss to your palm. You saw Frankie shift in the corner of your eye, Benny already making his way over to you.

“Got one more for me?”, he asked, clearly wanting to play along.

You made another reverence, accepting yet again. “How pissed is he gonna be?”, you questioned as he laid his hands on you.

“Fuming”, Benny chuckled, starting to sway along to the music.

It became clear that he was an inexperienced dancer when he stepped on your toes for the fourth time. You just smiled at him, despite wanting to curse him out. He wasn’t doing it on purpose though, offering a mumbled apology each time it happened. That was until he stepped on your foot mid, twirl, making you bend it at an awkward angle. You heard somewhat of a crack before losing your balance. Because he was so close he had no issue steadying you.

“I think I just sprained my ankle”, you whispered, smile faltering due to your discomfort.

“Can you stand on it?”

You get tried to put some more weight on it, nearly falling in your attempt. Benny caught you yet again, putting your arm around his shoulder, guiding you towards one of the chairs.

Frankie was by your side before you could so much as blink, crouching down next to your chair. “Everything alright?”

“Her ankle’s fu- not good”, Benny informed him, grabbing the nearest bottle of water.

“We should take this inside, away from the kids”, you whispered, noticing the little heads turned in your direction.

Frankie nodded, sliding an arm under the backs of your knees, swiftly picking you up. He carried you into the house without a word, setting you down on the couch. You bent over to slide your heel off, whining at the sensitivity.

“What happened out there?”, he asked from the kitchen.

You lifted your skirt to get a good look. “He stepped on my foot and I bent it.”

“Shit – think it’s broken?” He knelt down again, resting your foot on his thigh as he carefully laid some ice on it.

You flinched at the touch, pursing your lips as you nodded rather frantically. “Yep, yep, yep. That’s never a good sign.”

“Okay, I’m taking you to the ER, c’mon”, he announced, once again picking you up. “I know my truck is no carriage but..”

You playfully hit his shoulder. “Don’t you dare make fun of me now.”

He sat with you the entire time you were in the ER. Since you weren’t injured that badly you mostly were just stuck in the waiting room, in pure agony. You got some strange looks in your dress, but you’d abandoned the wig and corset. Frankie stuck by your side the entire time, kissing you forehead and holding your hand when he felt like it.

“I think you’re up, princesa”, he murmured, pointing towards the doctor approaching you.

You had indeed fractured your ankle. The x-rays proved as much, a clean break on the bone. The doctor gave you some advice as to how to treat it and what not to do and left you in a small room with Frankie, waiting for a nurse to come apply your cast.

“Are you mad?”, you asked quietly.

He quirked a brow at you, trying to read you. “What?”

“Well.. the dancing and just not telling you and-“

He kissed you, shushing you with his mouth. “Honey, you were doing your job and the guys were just playing around. Why would I be mad?”

“It’s just that.. well in the past my job has.. you know, put an end to things…”, you said with a trembling lip.

He cupped your face, making you look up at him. “I don’t care about what you do for a living, baby, princess or not, you’ll always be my princesa.”

You blinked away a few tears, leaning back in to close the gap once again. “I love you so much, Frankie.”

“Te quiero mucho, mi amor. But.. you do owe me a dance.”

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales #frankie morales #imagine #triple frontier #pedro pascal

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ellesstorm · 3 years

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A Yule Ball Proposition, Pt. 2

a/n: thank you to everyone who read part 1! i was not expecting anyone to see this lol. at the request of some lovely readers, i wrote a part 2 below, and will probably finish it with a part 3 later this week. feel free to comment any feedback. kisses to all of you.

Hermione made her excuses, leaving the Gryffindor common room and scurrying toward the empty classroom Draco had mentioned earlier. As she peaked inside, she saw Draco, fiddling with the magical gramophone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The dim lighting illuminated his white-blonde hair, and his tailored clothes highlighted quidditch-toned muscles--Really, Hermione? she scolded herself, shaking her head to clear away the unwelcome thoughts. She prayed that this wouldn’t go badly.

“Granger,” Draco greeted curtly as she pushed open the door.

“Malfoy.”

“Well first of all, I suppose we should give the waltz a shot, and I’ll evaluate how awful you are at dancing.”

Draco waved his wand at the gramophone and forcibly grabbed her waist and right hand. The music swelled, and Hermione internally chanted the one-two-three rhythm she learned from her beginner ballet classes years ago while trying to recall the steps McGonagall taught them.

One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two--Draco let out an undignified yelp as Hermione’s forehead crashed into his chin at the same time she stepped on his toes.

“Sorry, sorry,” Hermione frantically apologized. They untangled their limbs from each other, Draco slightly wincing.

“That wasn’t even twenty seconds” Draco complained, rubbing his jaw. “Merlin, If I hadn’t known you were dancing, I would’ve called Madam Pomfrey to check out your muscle spasms.”

“That’s why you’re teaching me,” Hermione snapped, all hope of cordiality dissipating.

“I suppose we’ll start with the basics…” Draco sighed, already sounding fed-up.

The lesson only went downhill from there, as they spent the rest of the evening going over individual steps (“Right not left, Granger. You’re telling me the Brightest Witch of Her Age can’t even tell directions?”), verbalizing the one-two-three count with the music (“No wonder you’ve never scored above an ‘acceptable,’ you can’t even count.”) and accidentally (purposefully) stomping on each other’s feet.

By the time they finished, Hermione and Draco were both sweaty, sporting bruises from each other’s slightly violent antics, and pissed at each other.

“I have no idea how Krum puts up with this,” Draco panted. “You must’ve slipped him a strong love potion for him to see past your bushy hair and buck teeth. I, for one, would rather take a troll to the ball.”

Hermione, tired from the dancing and wound up from their arguing, snapped back. “I would hope the troll would trample you,” she said, sneering. “And if you’re shallow enough to pick on appearances, I pity whoever you’re taking to the ball. You’d probably cut her head off with your pointy chin.”

She swept out of the room without a backward glance.

…

Hermione was scrawling on a long sheet of parchment when Draco found her in the library. He cleared his throat.

“Granger.” Malfoy sat down rather stiffly.

“Malfoy.” Hermione handed the parchment to Malfoy. “Here’s your study schedule I made.”

Malfoy scrutinized the timetable, brow furrowed. “How do you already know the assignments for all our classes until the end of the year? And what’s this colored stuff?”

“I always ask professors for their lesson plans and assignments at the beginning of the year to get ahead on my studying.” Malfoy snorted at this, but Hermione pushed on. “I color-coded everything with a highlighter, a colorful Muggle writing device used to draw attention to specific parts of the text. For example, Charms is yellow, so everything Charms-related on the schedule is in yellow.”

Malfoy looked intrigued at the colors, rubbing at the highlighter with his finger. Hermione rolled her eyes. “It’s just like ink, it doesn’t come off when you rub it. Anyway, if you’re developing a fetish for Muggle writing tools, I always bring some with me to Hogwarts.” She smirked as Draco glared.

In accordance with the schedule, Draco and Hermione opened their History of Magic textbooks. Hermione began reviewing the lesson from their last class, and Draco dutifully filled in the missing spots in his notes. Tension from their last argument faded away by the time Hermione reached the Goblin Rebellion of 1612.

Tutoring Draco wasn’t that bad, Hermione decided. It was certainly more enjoyable than trying to teach Harry and Ron. Whereas Harry and Ron were frequently distracted by a nearby game of Exploding Snap or Fred and George’s latest exploits, Draco paid attention to what she was saying, only interrupting if he had questions.

At the end of the hour, Draco tossed aside his quill and Hermione stretched her arms, stiff from sitting for so long. “I suppose your bushy hair has some use,” he drawled. “If not for appearances, at least it can hold all the textbooks you store up there.”

“If you didn’t use so much hair gel, I’m sure you could also retain something useful,” Hermione quipped back.

Draco chuckled slightly, standing up to gather his books. “Don’t forget to leave your other left foot behind for dance lessons next weekend, Granger.”

While the statement was technically an insult, Hermione couldn’t help but laugh at his wittiness. Draco grinned, nodding goodbye.

Maybe this arrangement wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#dramione #harry potter #dhr #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #drabble #hp ficlet

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clockwork--artist · 3 years

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“But that’s not how it works!”

“Okay, but get this.”

I have two morons Professor Layton OCs that I’d love to introduce to you all! Meet Tom and Davina! If I could draw them in the PL artstyle, I would. Unfortunately, I cannot not. :pensive:

Prepare to see more of these losers in the future!

More information on the two below the fold!

“Though seemingly reserved and not very expressive, Tom is a sharp-tongued and witty English boy living in America. He has a bit of trouble with reading, but this doesn’t affect his ability to read sheet music and his excellent piano playing, nor his puzzle-solving skills. Despite being a brilliant bluffer, he doesn’t hide his feelings for a certain friend very well.”

You heard the blurb! It’s Tom Clarke, a character I once described to a friend as “a British dumbass with smartass energy.”

Some basic info:

His full name is Thomas Mark Clarke. His parents (and me, lol) made it rhyme on accident.

He’s 13 in Unwound Future.

He’s supposed to be 5’7”, but I feel bad for Layton when I draw Tom taller than him.

He thinks he’s straight, but he’s probably some amount of Demi.

He’s from the Northern UK. His hometown will appear in a story I swear I’ll write.

Some fun facts:

He’s not one to become invested in any media, instead opting to engage in what his friends enjoy. As such, Davina convinced Tom to learn the entire soundtrack of The Eternal Kingdom on piano. He went above and beyond, translating the entirety of The Eternal Diva into melody-compliant German as a joke.

Tom takes fencing classes and formerly took dance classes. These aren’t the most beneficial skills in the world, but his dad made him take them.

Speaking of dance, his six years of dance class never made him hate the activity. He loves to dance when he has the chance. He’s surprisingly good at waltzing.

He’s way too good at ice skating. It may be on account of his six years of dance, but either way, he’s way too good. Just because you lived in an icy climate for the first ten years of your life doesn’t mean you get to be a show-off.

His parents forgot his middle name. They keep calling him Michael, but he’s adamant that it’s Mark. They don’t listen. Davina is conscious of this but calls him Michael to piss him off.

Tom likes the more riddle-y kinds despite his literate ineptitude. He’s good at math puzzles but doesn’t like how much you have to think about them.

Tom plays chess and is surprisingly good at it, maybe even falling into the tryhard category. He doesn’t play for fun but will let inexperienced players clown on the craft to get used to it and have fun. He primarily plays black.

He’s not really one to visually express his emotions. The most you’ll ever get out of him is a small smile, a raised eyebrow, or the look you get in a restaurant when you’ve been waiting for your food for 20 minutes and are very peeved, but you don’t want to look impolite as you wait for 40 more minutes. When you do get emotion out of him, it’s usually when he’s speaking and is very distinct.

He moved to California (Japanifornia?) just after Last Specter. He– very distinctly– did not want to move. Tom’s fine with America, now.

He’s related to Flora. They’re third cousins, to be exact. No one knows/has realized it and won’t for a while.

Luke and Tom have been friends since around the age of 5, and they’ve been pen pals since about the age of 7. Even after Tom moved, they kept in close contact!

When he met Randall, he (without hesitation, mind you) said, “The Masked Gentleman is a twink?” It’s the hardest Davina has ever laughed.

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

“Underneath a timid and aloof demeanor, Davina is a bright young girl invested in the arts and humanities. She has an eye for art on par with the professor’s and is an artist herself, taking any time she has to draw the things around her. Her love of music and ancient civilizations has led to an admiration for The Eternal Kingdom and the work of Desmond Sycamore.”

Yep, it’s Davina Alavara! She’s Tom’s best friend and occasional travel partner! Every adventure she’s been on wasn’t planned, and she didn’t sign up for any of this.

Basic info:

Davina is 13 in Unwound Future.

She’s just a bit shorter than Luke, so like 4’10”.

She is very ace.

As stated in her blurb, Davina is from America, specifically California (Japanifornia?), and is Latina!

Some fun facts:

As stated in the blurb, she is obsessed with The Eternal Kingdom. She has sketchbooks upon sketchbooks filled with the costume designs, the set, Janice Quatlane, etc. She even memorized all the songs.

She has an interest in Mezo-American-related archaeology, as well as the obligatory Azran. Davina was never too invested in Azran-related study until she found out about Sycamore, and then it spiraled out of control from there.

She got obsessed with the legal system for some reason. She knows tons of penal codes and general strange law knowledge off the top of her head now. She still seems pretty interested in a certain attorney and his prosecutor rival.

Tom roped her into fencing. She thinks it’s payback for making him learn all the Eternal Kingdom songs.

Davina was super scared of Layton (and Emmy, but less so) for a while, not exactly knowing why. She didn’t trust him and found him intimidating. She warmed up to him, eventually.

To be fair, she’s not really a social person— not as of late, at least. She’s good at talking to new people, she just has trouble finding enough confidence to approach. Getting Davina to trust you enough to start making meaningful conversation is another story.

Strange insults and threats are Davina calling card, so prepare to be told to jump off a microwave or whatever non-anachronistic equivalent to a microwave is.

Davina’s very good at slide puzzles but has no idea if that’s because she’s insanely perseverent or if it’s a genuine skill. To be fair, she never really solved puzzles before meeting Tom and had no idea what a hint coin was until meeting the professor.

She’s a living storage unit, thanks to the massive bag she carries everywhere. Davina clears it out occasionally, but it just gets filled back up again. She always has her current sketchbook, a folder of loose blank paper and sketches, her pencils and pen, a glasses cloth, a pocket dictionary, and a handkerchief.

Davina plays chess with Tom sometimes and isn’t very good at it. She “developed” a method of play she calls “Ammunition Chess.” Whenever she takes a piece, she will either forcefully knock it off the board or pick it up and chuck it at her opponent/spectators. It has gotten her in trouble multiple times, but she doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.

Davina loves drawing portraits of her friends and people she meets and has a folder full of pages upon pages of them. She doesn’t seem to like to draw herself, though.

If Davina is in a car that isn’t going incredibly fast, has windows she can roll down, and at a level she can comfortably look out of, she will stick her head out. You cannot stop her; you can only advise her when it’s a good time to stick her head back in. Also, prepare to hear commentary about how pretty the landscape is if you’re going somewhere rural.

#professor layton #professor layton oc #oc art #tom clarke #davina alavara #hope yall like this one!!!#it took me a week to put this together #not counting the drawing #but it's here!!!

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randombtsprincessa · 5 years

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Bells and Roses

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Park Jimin x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 4.4k

Genre: Smut

Summary: You pay your muse a visit. Or alternatively; you and Jimin haven’t defined a relationship but does it stop you from turning it wild? Lol no.

Warning: Jimin dancing, no real relationship defined, pink! Jimin, a lot of handsy behaviour, fingering, oral (female receiving), riding, sub! Jimin, unprotected sex (be safe kiddos)!

A/N: Happy Birthday, my love, my life, my beautiful Park Jimin! I was inspired for this fic from Cake Waltz! You can listen to it while reading this!

I love feedback!

An idle glance was cast at the delicate chain watch circling your wrist, eyes flickering over the glittery digits before returning to the front of the hall. A hush fell over the murmuring crowds surrounding you, the well-dressed masses shifting and straightening in their plush seats with their eyes drawing to the front as well where the spotlights had been directed.

You waited keenly, the rest of the ambient lights dimming till darkness hid you in its embrace, masking away the slight change in your face, if any occurred.

You, of course, knew it was inevitable. You were an expressive person, some might say a little highly strung, but it was all in a day’s work. You were here to have fun, let loose. Maybe even get another stroke of inspiration but you weren’t going to be specific about it.

This wasn’t about you, not really.

The curtains rose and colors exploded in your vision.

A dusky shade of pink was first, circling spotlights forming a halo upon the wooden stage where stood perfectly posed, curled ballerinas in glittering costumes of the same pink. The pink light dimmed, the ballerinas sinking to the floor with their feet curled behind them, a bow of sorts.

Another light burned, a blinding silver this time, hitting just the edge of the curtains and unbidden, your body lurched forward in anticipation.

The light flickered, building tension as a brush of strings echoed, followed by a deep thrum of beats that pulsed in your blood. It was an unusual combination, mellow, sweet tinkles that contrasted against the sultry bass, sending chills down your back.

The spotlight was back and from it – just as the beat dropped – emerged the reason why you were here, sitting among people who held no delight for you.

The figure threw itself into a spin that had you gasping in concern, feet flying over where a head should be, before landing squarely in the centre of the second spotlight, this time a raging purple. Loose, white shirt that hung around the torso and black tights caught the light, glinting and winking at the audience with its sequins.

No, your delight lay in this, watching the figure unfurl, standing straight and proud, a tilt to his head that had him eyeing the crowd, a particular trance in those orbs that made you bite into the glossed surface of your lip.

The ballerinas moved in synchrony, as they reached up on their toes, a perfect throw arabesque pointing towards the figure of your interest but he still didn’t move, taking his time to study the audience that watched. You sent a silent thanks to the darkness that shielded you because when he was done, he turned his back to the stage before opening the dance with a pirouette, a brush of his fingers trailed onto each dancer that had been turned to him.

You slumped in your seat, chin stuck to your chest as headiness clouded your mind. Your eyes never strayed, fixed on the man that pranced, settled and then took flight (almost literally) on the stage. The bass never seemed to reduce his pace, his feet, encased in white, following the faerie precision of the composition.

The dance was a mix of his contemporary and ballet, the ballerinas more an accessory on the stage, paling next to his vitality but of course you could be biased. It wasn’t like you even saw what the girls and boys in the tutus were doing. Your eyes were fixed on the man who with a roll of his neck, turned a seducer and then as innocent with big glimmering eyes and a too familiar pout.

The music went on, and your delight soared with him.

It was almost too short but it was more than enough for you, overwhelmed as you got to your feet with the rest of the audience when they rose for a standing ovation.

He finished off the dance with an over exaggerated flourish, a mischief that he loved when he knew that he had rendered a mind blowing performance. His head was tilted again, eyes roving.

You could’ve sworn there was a hint of a smirk brewing on his face but there was no way it could’ve been aimed at you. You had shrouded yourself from him exquisitely. He had no business having that smirk on his face.

Park Jimin

The name lay as exquisitely upon your tongue as the finest wine, the sweetest delicacy. Meeting him had been the rarest coincidences, but knowing him now felt like serendipity. You had been a fresh out of college artist, eager with your skill and your degree.

Everything had been lovely until you were prompted to hold your own exhibition in one of your friend’s galleries and you were struck without inspiration. Landscapes…cityscapes…abstract…nothing seemed to fit. Canvases were discarded, paints tossed around, palettes and brushes broken in frustration and quite a few tears shed before an impromptu walk through the city landed you standing dubiously in front of the Theatre.

Slumped in one the same chairs as you had been, you’d laid eyes first on the lead dancer for Calico Dance Academy, the rising star. You had both been much younger back then but even then he had been graceful, sleek like a striking cobra and just as entrancing.

He had basically pried your third eye open with his beauty. So, when you learned that his doors were open for admirers, you knew you had to take your chance.

You gazed at the bouquet in your hand, clasped loosely within your fingers as you studied the flowers.

“How may I help you?”

You flinched at the customary questioned posed to you by the cheerful florist, soft cheeks lifting as she welcomed you to the counter.

“Yes, hi,” you stammered before clearing your throat. “I would like some flowers, please.”

“You’ve come to the right place.” The girl laughed softly, but not deprecatingly, moving to the side so you could see the arrangements behind her. “How would you like them?”

You studied the shelves, moving from the simple collection of a few stems tied neatly together to an extravagant affair of lilies and daffodils, too big for you to carry.

You thought back to the night before and the lapels of the man’s costume.

“Can I customize a bouquet, with sunflowers and roses? And could you add those small bells to it?”

It was relatively easier, finding Jimin’s delivery address and dropping the flowers off. The studio was not too big, considering the academy was still finding itself but Jimin was certainly quick to find you, following you out one day when you were done leaving the flowers at the front desk.

“Hey, you’re the secret admirer.”

You turned to see the beaming man taking quick steps towards you, still in a tight black shirt and leggings that enhanced his thighs. You were surprised to say he was much shorter up front and that much more beautiful.

He smiled at the startled look on your face and you could’ve sworn flowers blossomed from the cracks of the concrete sidewalk.

“You leave me flowers,” he prompted.

You nodded, more for your sake than his as he stuck out his hand. “It’s not much of a point being a secret admirer. Let’s make friends.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Some people would like a secret admirer.” You told him, catching his hand in yours nevertheless.

“Some people would also be creeped out by it but you seem nice. I’m Jimin, and you are…?”

You stared at the expectant look on his face, a part of you itching with some indescribable emotion.

“Y/N,” you managed at last. “I’m Y/N.”

Park Jimin proved to be a great friend. With the most charming disposition, he was also equally brainy. As clichéd as it seemed, he helped you see things that you didn’t in your not so humble artistic perspective. He was a storm, bubbling with gossamer energy and you had never been so grateful to have your life thrown in the path of so impressive a storm.

So, after a soft afternoon spent in the park with ice cream after his practice you popped your question.

“So…you know, I am a painter right?” you asked lightly.

Jimin slurped at his strawberry scoop delicately. “Yup,”

“I was, just thinking, you know, that – if you don’t mind awfully – I could paint…you, I guess.”

Jimin stopped with his tongue still gracing the side of his scoop, his eyes flickering to yours in amazement. “You want to…paint me?” He asked.

You shook yourself a little, ready to save face. “It was just a thought. I mean, you don’t have to even consider it. I know most people get freaked by the thought of getting painted and it’s a whole lot of hassle.”

Jimin cut you off, laughing as he streaked an ice cream soaked finger across your cheek. You squealed in turn, sliding away from him on the seat.

“Stop trying to put me off, Y/N. Of course, I’d model for you. I’d be honored. We can go now; I have all the time in the world.” Jimin leaned in and before you could even register the motion, he’d kissed the line of pink sugar from your skin, popping his lips as he did so, careless and ignorant of the way your eyes lingered on his mouth.

Four hours later, your masterpiece was ready of sorts. Jimin held still the way you told him to, hair fluffed as he stared out your window in one of his somber stage expressions.

“God, Y/N,” Jimin grinned, peering over your shoulder, watching you apply the small shades and contours to his neck and collarbones. You’d yanked his sweater down a little, much to Jimin’s amusement to reveal the sharp bones beforehand. You thanked your insight now; they looked beautiful in the fading evening sunlight.

“Is that a good god or a bad god?” You halted your hand, staring at the picture in trepidation before Jimin laid a warm hand on your shoulder.

“Good, Y/N, I can’t wait to see myself up on your friend’s wall.”

You invited Jimin with your customary selection of flowers, delivered to his house this time, the invitation to the exhibition tucked within the stems.

It seemed Jimin was much more excited about the exhibition because he showed up an hour before you; seeking his picture while you ignorantly mingled, clueless until you spotted a familiar figure, studying the one picture you were responsible for.

“Jimin,” You called the man, his head tilted to the side as he stared at his likeness against the lavender wall.

“Y/N,” he greeted, not looking at you, thankfully because you were blatantly staring at your friend.

You had never had occasion to see Park Jimin in a suit but by god, it was a sight.

Tight black satin clung to his figure, stretching over his shoulders and hugging his waist. “I see you found your picture.” You had to smile.

Jimin turned to you with a smirk. “I don’t know if it’s the lighting or the finishing touches but I do look mighty fine. You picked a fantastic model.”

You shoved at him. “That’s just your ego talking. I have it on good authority that the painting is just fine.”

He pouted at that. “What have I said about the self depreciation, Y/N?” He didn’t wait for an answer, aiming a hopeful look at his own self. “So, when do you need another painting of a hunk?”

It was during the third painting that you and Jimin ended up on your too messy bed. Fast, rough and brilliant, Jimin rolled off of you in a daze, eye glimmering in the shadows.

“If I’d known you felt that good, I’d have jumped on you sooner.” You managed in a huff, causing Jimin to break out in a guffaw that lasted well into the minutes that you took to clean up and slip into a nightgown.

He stayed on his back, gloriously naked with no signs of wanting to pull the comforter up across his body. You stepped cautious when you saw that the light in his eyes had changed, something deeper and serious flickering in them now.

“What’s wrong?” you’d asked.

Jimin was mum for a while before speaking, “I don’t want you to think of this the wrong way.” He said slowly before wincing, realizing the start had been wrong itself.

He sat up, finally tugging on the covers to recover some dignity. “I meant, I don’t want you to think that I’m just into the whole wham-bam-thank you ma’am thing.”

You continued to frown, silence prodding him into further speech.

“I want this, I really do but I don’t know how much time I can devote to you.” He said finally.

You broke out laughing. “Jimin, you know we don’t have to define a relationship just because we slept together one time. We can still be friends.”

“I don’t want to just be friends though. I want to define something, just in case you go and find some other muse.”

It had taken a few days to discuss out terms to define a relationship between you and Jimin. Both of you were busy people, what with your exhibits picking up and needing you to focus on extensive travel while he toured for his own shows.

You didn’t want to look it to face but you knew Jimin was a very attractive man with a healthy amount of libido that needed to go around along his charisma. That was one of the first things you’d brought up; exclusivity. However, your friend turned potential lover had quickly shot the idea down, vehemently stating he would very much appreciate some form of stability, something solid to come back to.

Did that answer any of your questions? No, neither did you manage to put a finger to what exactly it was that Jimin and you were.

However, it did not stop either of you from falling into bed with each other whenever Jimin and you happened to be in the same city.

You were at your florist again; much more upright and sure of your order this time as you smiled at the long term girl friend behind the counter.

“Y/N! It’s been a while.” She greeted, straightening the uniform cap perched on her bleached hair.

“Hey Solji, yes it has.” You agreed, your eyes screening the assortment of flowers.

“I take it the special receiver of the flower is back in town then?” She asked, moving to the usual selection of sunflowers, fresh and dewy, high near the sun.

“How do you know?” you gasped, looking around as Solji smirked, wrapped a pretty blue paper around the roses and sunflowers.

“I’ve been wrapping flowers for a good many years, Y/N. I’ve seen a lot of flower givers. You’re timed and only get one particular customization. Of course, he or she is special.” She plucked out a tiny string of small bells before tying the package off.

“Pretty observant, I’ll have to be more careful.”

“Or one day you can just introduce us,” she teased back, cashing you out. The soft giggles followed you a good way as you carried the bouquet towards Jimin’s building.

It had been a few months since Jimin had moved out of the small apartment that he’d had to share with roommates. With the success and acclaim that followed his dancing troupe, he had purchased an apartment of his own, making it easier for you to show up whenever you wanted to.

You deigned to be sneaky about your approach, leaving a small painting of his last performance, on cheap canvas first at his doorstep, sliding it in and ringing the doorbell, quickly concealing yourself in the alcove of the stairs. You watched the door swing open quickly before a head peeked around, looking slyly around before shutting the door again.

You let out a giggle, flitting down again to place the bouquet in front of the door when the door flew open again, nearly scaring you into heart palpitations as you were met by the crinkle eyed grin of none other than Park Jimin.

Clad in baggy grey pants and a pale blue shirt, stood the man who’d been your muse ever since you’d laid eyes on him. As your eyes drifted over his features you fixated on one change that had you gaping.

“Jimin,” you gasped out, “…your hair is pink!”

On his part, he looked sheepish, raising a hand to pat at his head before opening the door wider to let you slide in, swiping the bouquet from your hand and taking a whiff.

“Ah, my favorite,” he sighed, complacent as you looked down the apartment you hadn’t stepped into for months now.

The deep, woody scent of new furniture still lingered, clearly from having been locked ever since he got it and you wondered if you should’ve gotten a bigger bouquet so he could smell something better than varnish.

The sweet bliss of his arms wrapping around you diverted your attention, turning to look up at him.

“I saw your name in the audience listing.” He mumbled, lowering his head to nuzzle within the crook of your neck.

“And hence the smirk,” you realized, placing both hands on his chest. “You knew I was there. And here I thought, I’d surprise you,”

“I always check audience listings in case some company is scouting.” He shrugged before smiling slyly. “So, did someone miss me?”

“Nope,” you shrugged away, walking off to remove your coat, knowing that Jimin was sporting a spectacular pout by now. Such a spoilt baby…

“Ugh, come on, I missed you, you know…pay attention!” He whined, catching you near the couch, back to wrapping his arms around you.

Spinning you around he caught your lips in a nostalgic kiss, scorching in the way his plump petals caressed yours, trying to find a break in your armor.

You let him find it, wrapping your arms around his neck as he tugged you closer, a satisfied hum escaping the pair of you, his hand drifting over your waist and back before pulling away.

“I wanted to come back ever since I got on the plane you know,” he told you.

You smiled, remembering the pained expression with which he had dropped your hand, disappearing through security with his eyes returning to you every few seconds.

“I know, I could tell.” You brushed kisses over his jaw line.

He tilted his head back before looking down at you, amber eyes glinting in the afternoon sun beaming into his living room. “Stay with me.” He whispered, a lull of command in his voice that made the dull ache in your stomach sharpen, keening you towards him.

He raised his eyebrows in a way that told you he knew his effect on you and you allowed him to bask in the knowledge. “I already planned to.” You let him know.

“Good, because I’m taking you to bed and not letting you up until we’re hungry and gross.” He said, not waiting for a reply as he tugged on your hand, leading you further into his home.

You barely had time to glance around the space before Jimin was locking the bedroom door, pressing your bodies up against it and leaning over you. Warm breath wafted over your bottom lip when he brushed his against your tingling skin.

Your hands crept up his back, moving to pink fleece on his head. It must’ve been hard to maintain it without getting it fried completely but the strands felt silky enough with your eyes closed.

Jimin walked backwards, hands drifting down to his shirt and pulling it off and moving to his windows, drawing the shades and casting the room in gloomy lighting.

“Come on then,” he grinned and you followed, pulling at your clothes until they decorated your steps towards him where he sat on his bed, watching you with his lip caught between his teeth. The strip tease probably wasn’t as sexy as you wanted it to be but at least you tried and by the looks of it, it was enough.

Jimin’s hands wrapped around your waist, squeezing with abandon. “I missed your skin, your warmth.” His eyes drifted to you lazily, his fingers moving to the band of your simple underwear. You placed your hands on his shoulders, balancing yourself as he began to tug the garment down your legs, the action even more erotic when he groaned; catching sight of your glistening slit.

Jimin’s thick fingers landed first at your knees, slipping around the back and sliding upwards, his eyes still glued to yours, minutely examining each expression or change that passed over your face. The way you tilted your head back before down again to look at his actions, the small pants; they were only making Jimin harder, wanting to rip into you with wild, wicked intentions. He held control, of course, no need to rush.

His breath hitched when his thumb finally made contact with the apex of your thighs, eyes flashing to the point of contact before up at you again. Was that a hint of apprehension?

“You’re already wet.” He mumbled, your eyes fluttering and cheeks reddening but you held fast to him.

Jimin had clearly been working out. His shoulders were broader; muscles more pronounced at you latched yourself on them while he attended to you in his gentle yet teasing ways.

And then he lowered his mouth…

You were glad that you had had the foresight of grabbing Jimin before because even before those luscious lips touched your skin, you were buckling, a rampant moan escaping you when he carefully parted your slick flesh, exposing your clit to his punishing tongue. Jimin pulled away, his tongue swirling before retreating back.

“I missed your heat.” He said before diving back in.

There were few things in your life that compared to Jimin giving head. Maybe the first time you had seen him naked, his skin glowing but still full, nothing chiseled about him as of then. Now he was harder, his planes more defined but you loved him just as much, the rake of your fingernails still shone the same and your kisses worn with as much pride as he used to.

Jimin was far into you for you to think much ahead. The way his hand migrated to hitch your leg up, placing it on the bed next to him to give him more access before dipping his fingers into you, curving the way he knew he reached your sweet spot, waiting for the groan to be satisfied before he returned to sucking your clit into his mouth, tongue pushing forward so he could collect more of your juices on his tongue.

He barely took a breath, finally pulling away and retracting his fingers from you gently, feeling the tightness of you close on his hand, trying to keep him there.

“Fuck, don’t be greedy, babe. You’ll get what you want.” He chuckled, deep and throaty. His eyes were nearly black now, pupils blown out.

You’d loved that, how he could be so fucked out even when he barely received any pleasure himself.

You removed your hands from his shoulders, studying him carefully. His cheeks were sunk in, a little more angular than you remembered. His biceps bulged where he leant on them, his thighs were thicker. You made a mental note to feed him while you had him here and another to ride his delicious legs while you were at it.

Jimin smiled a little at your scrutiny, “Y/N, what are you thinking?”

You didn’t answer immediately, instead reaching up to undo your bra, letting it drop at his feet. “I’m thinking…I want to ride you.”

Jimin’s mouth dropped, you could see him clearly swallow before he was nodding. “Yeah, okay, we can make that happen.”

He began to back further onto the bed but you stopped him, placing a hand on his knees to bunch the material of his sweats and tugging at them.

Your lover gave you a wide eyed stare. “Like this?”

Your eyes ran up the newly acquired abs, placing a kiss directly on them. He clenched at the contact. “Like this,” you whispered.

Jimin was quick to lose the sweats at that, eyeing you for further instruction as you flicked your hair behind you, placing a knee on the bed beside his hip and the other on his chest, anchoring yourself as he held himself at the base, angling the tip to brush against your entrance. You sighed, the thrum of his groan as you sat down on him bracing you.

The stretch burned you deliciously, the girth of him sliding against the right spots as you tried to get him in as deep as you could.

Jimin’s back arched, the tips of his fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he mumbled unknown, unheard words. His eyes opened to see you kneeling over him.

“Fuck me, please.” He begged, a hint of desperation plaguing him that you couldn’t ignore.

Raising yourself, still using your hands for support, you dropped back down, using his pants of breath as a metronome, your hips gyrating and thrusting in time with him.

Jimin lay obediently still below you, letting you fuck the both of you into a pleasurable oblivion. His skin was starting to collect sheen.

You bent over him, feeling him whimper before bracing himself against the floor and thrust up into your warmth. His hands moved up your back, digging into certain special spots before wrapping into your hair, trapping you against him as you sunk your teeth in his shoulder, hiding cries of pleasure that he could hear anyway.

“Are you close?” He asked, yanking on your hair to look at your face, contorted a little.

“So close,” You arched your back, further pushing your body into his skillful hands.

“Good, me too, I want you to come with me.” Jimin let his hand cup a breast, while the other fell where your bodies connected. His thumbs set to work, rubbing sparks of extra pleasure into your peaking nipple and clit.

You whined, back tilting as your nails dug into his thighs as you exploded on top of him, a similar groan sounding below you as Jimin let go as well.

You felt his seed flood you as you convulsed on him and you probably would’ve toppled over if Jimin hadn’t sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close while he kept thrusting, slowly letting you both come back down to earth.

By the way his hand moved back to your ass, a light squeeze placed on it, you knew you were far from done.

#smutcentralnet #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #jimin #park jimin #bts #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts jimin #jimin scenario #bts scenarios #happy birthday jimin #bells and roses

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heathendolan · 6 years

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SPILL THE TEA ON UR EX TODAY LOL

oh christ it was fucking embarrassing

so his name is chris and we have h i s t o r y like five years worth of history, good and bad and really private and also really dramatic so. last time we had anything wild was when he got pissed at me for dancing with a guy at my town’s festival. and since then we’ve just been awkwardly avoiding one another except he SPECIFICALLY COMES TO MY COFFEE PLACE ALL THE TIME AS IF HE DOESN’T KNOW I DON’T WORK THERE

so him and his best friend, garrett (more history) pull in but i NEVER RECOGNIZE HIS TRUCK. and they’re parked facing the shops glass, and i lean over to my coworker hailee and go “ooo two teenage boys this could be my chance !! OH AND THE DRIVER’S CUTE” and the driver hops out and its chris

so i go “oh for fuck’s sake” and hailee’s laughing cause she knows, and i go “if you need me, don’t, i’ll be in the back” and hide like a baby in the kitchen. and she starts taking their orders and whatever, and after like 5 minutes when i think the coast is clear i mouth to her “is it clear?” and she nods vigorously, so i waltz on out.

SHE THOUGHT I ASKED, ‘IS HE STILL HERE’

but it’s too fucking late, he’s already seen me!!!! so i literally duck beneath the counter’s glass like a baby bitch and garrett says ‘hi paige!!’ and i say ‘oh, hi garrett!’ like an IDIOT and then chris is just staring at me it is so AWKWARD

and then they leave. and hailee and i are yelling at each other over whose fault it was, and she goes “fuck you!! he asked if you could make his drink and i told him you were sick and weren’t at work!!!” so we got caught in a bad lie OOF YIKES NO

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earthnashes · 6 years

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Sorry if this was asked but out of raritwi who gets jealous easily? I can totally imagine some stallion hitting on rares then twilight just comes and protectively wraps her wing around rarity while unconsciously glaring at said stallion until he awkwardly moves away

Mmmmm.... I dunno, actually. Neither of them really feel like they’d get jealous so easily. o3o

Of the two I think I’ll go wiiiiiiiiith.... maybe Twilight? Like maybe they have equal amounts of jealous bouts and are pouty about it for a little bit, but perhaps Twi feels a bit more jealous when in the presence of nobility. Twi herself is a noble, but she never truly got into the nuance of being one, specifically playing “The Game”.

“The Game” is what nobles call the verbal dance they waltz around each other in their attempts to one-up their intended target: this is done through seduction, scandal, rumors, politics, morals, anything the nobles can do to let their target know they are the superior one all the while doing so in a painfully polite and sickeningly sweet false friendliness. Nobles thrill at The Game. Twilight does not.

Twilight can recognize The Game if only because she grew up around it, but she can’t play it for her life, partly because she hates it and partly because she still has a bit of social awkwardness to her.

Rarity, however, plays The Game as if it’s second nature, and when Twi finds herself overwhelmed by nobles probing too much Rarity swoops in and saves her from it, talking circles around these cocky pony elitists without breaking a sweat. Twilight finds the ease of which Rarity falls into The Game’s unsaid rules... more attractive than she’d thought she would, but she also finds a root of jealousy in it. Maybe just a tiny bit toward Rarity because how effortlessly she can play The Game, but mostly when Rarity is conversing with a noble who tries using seduction on Rarebears. Rarity might act charmed by it, especially if there is need for information at that given time and Twilight understands why: there’s no true interest held there, but The Game is brutal and merciless and must be played smartly to avoid social (and political) suicide. And it isn’t like Rarity hasn’t flirted with others; Rares has always liked playful banter. To her, to their friends, to strangers, and it’s never bothered Twi before.

But The Game brings about feelings Twi can feel just below her skin and can’t help the pangs of jealousy and maybe even just a smudge of possessiveness when Rarity supposedly reciprocates the flirting before she makes it painfully clear they have no chance of wooing her.

Maybe Twi and Rarity has talked about this too, and maybe Twi feels the need to apologize for feeling that way but Rarity understands. Besides, maybe they play their own game through it. A game to see just how worked up Rarity can get Twi, flirty words framed to seem like they’re directed at the noble she’s speaking to, but her eyes always locked on Twilight when she speaks and Twi can’t help feeling her blood’s set afire underneath that burning gaze. How long before Twi has to excuse herself to wash the heat away from her face with cold water, or march up to Rarity and ask to speak to her real fast only to pull her into a nearby room and plant a searing kiss to her lips.

Or ya know somethin’ like that man, I dunno lol. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#Headcanon #gaiaverse #asks #answered asks

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thetaekswoon · 7 years

Text

DAY6 Sungjin| Boyfriend AU

If you’ve been following my blog, recently you may have noticed my slight obsession with Day6, specifically Sungjin. That’s only because I just suddenly realized that he is completely and utterly perfect in every way. Like Jae was my bias, but now, who can be sure.

NSFW!

(btw I unintentionally wrote this AU with a female reader in mind, I usually try so hard to keep my AUs gender neutral so all my readers and enjoy them, this just kind of happened so I’m sorry for my male readers)

Sungjin:

Sungjin is the sophisticated, mature, and sometimes slightly dorky, boyfriend that your parents absolutely adore.

. like really the first time they meet him they are absolutely floored by his table manners and general politeness as soon as you got home they called and asked you when he would propose.

Flat out said, “I have deep regards for your daughter.” to your parents and you will never stop making fun of him for saying that to them, it wasn’t like you hadn’t said I love you yet or anything he could have just said that, but instead he just got all nervous and cute.

The kind of boyfriend who is super gentle and will protect you from all harm and is generally a gentleman, always holds open the door for you and makes sure you’re walking on the inside of the sidewalk.

HIS EYEBROWS ARE THICKER AND MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN YOURS WILL EVER BE YOU JUST GOTTA ACCEPT THAT HONEY.

The kind that will cook you dinner and bring home fancy wines for you two to try together.

Sungjin enjoys surprising you a lot for dinner and with dates and the such. Sometimes you’ll just come home after a long day at work and he’ll be there in your apartment wearing an apron with a wooden spoon in hand, watching something like the Food Network trying to replicate some of the fancy recipes just to surprise you.

The only thing is that his surprise dinners are always either wonderful or a complete bust (sometimes you just need to heat up some ramen after only one bite, rip poor baby Sungjin he tried so hard).

,,, but you are always thankful that he put in so much effort to surprise you and be all romantic and stuff.

Boyfriend Sungjin will just text you on his off days and it will say something like ‘come hang out with me, I’m bored and I miss you <3′ so you go and show up at the studio or at his apartment, wherever he is tbh, and he’s there wearing a beanie with his guitar.

He’ll give you a quick kiss and then pats at a spot next to him for you to sit down and chill, and then he’ll serenade you.

Vinyl kinda man, if you know what I mean.

Leather couches and orchids on the living room window sil.

, but like no matter how mature Sungjin is he still has a carton of chocolate milk in the fridge. It’s Tru Moo btw.

Before you two move in together there is already no real system of boundaries in place, he has a key to your apartment and vice versa.

And Sungjin also really likes to just show up unannounced and sleepover, and his motives are rarely sexual in those instances, if he was horny and had motives you would know.

nah, tbh Sungjin just loves falling asleep cuddled up next to you, your body curled into his. Will totally rub your back and sing you to sleep...

He’s just so loving and wants to show you all of his affection, but has a hard time expressing it vocally because he doesn’t think a simple “I love you” or “I’m in love with you” cuts it, so he tries to make up for it with all of his actions.

And like he’s so romantic and stuff, but doesn’t even make a big deal about it because he thinks that’s what a boyfriend is supposed to do and act like, like it’s common courtesy.

Makes chocolate covered strawberries to specifically feed them to you... naked... in bed... looking like Adonis (after sexy times lol)

Going to the beach together when the weather is warm enough, and seeing him in just his swim trunks.

He’s kinda like a kid at the beach, splashing you with the water, wanting you to bury him in the sand.

Primarily just wears button ups with nice pants, looks super mature and so cute.

He loves nothing more than seeing you in his clothes, especially the morning after, and he always hands you his beanies/button ups/tees subtly giving you the signal that he wants to see you wearing whatever it is soon.

Sungjin rarely moves in his sleep, so you almost always wake up still in his arms and it’s just so warm and safe feeling (also his biceps are really nice whoops)

Takes you on cute dates that seem simple, but he really put a lot of thought into them. Like the time he took you to a boardwalk where you just spent a few hours window shopping and holding each other’s hands, but then after the sun began to descend he went back to the car to grab a towel so you two could sit down on the beach and watch the sunset together. After that he booked reservations at a seafood restaurant back on the boardwalk.

The kind of boyfriend to take you out for a classy and expensive dinner and then fuck you good.

Giver >>>>> Receiver

I feel like Sungjin is more of a vanilla dom that occasionally likes to spice things up in the bedroom with the whole daddy thing (only in the bedroom, not as a lifestyle, though if you really want to rattle him or leave him embarrassed you whisper in his ear and call him daddy in public or in front of the boys)

*cough cough* romantic daddy *cough cough*

, he likes to be in control most of the time, but isn’t super into the idea of bdsm or anything besides more interesting positions

, whips and toys are a little intimidating for him to use on you.

Not going to lie, Sungjin doesn’t realize just how good at sex he is, especially when he goes down on you.

HE’S SO GOOD AT FOREPLAY HOW DOES HE NOT REALIZE THIS.

tbh he is just responding to all of the noises you make, and no matter how much you praise him for it afterwards he just gets a little shy and blushy, like YOUR WETNESS IS ALL OVER HIS CHIN AND HE IS JUST SO HUMBLE and always is trying new things with his tongue that he think will feel good,

spoiler alert! THEY DO!

Like your legs are always shaking the next morning, so much so that you have to sit down, and he’s just so innocent and will say something like, “Oh sorry did I do that? Sorry babe do you want me to cook breakfast today then?”

Boobs >>>>> Butt

He’s the kind of man who says that he’s not that into blow jobs because he feels like it’s degrading to the woman, and actually means it.

It’s just frustrating sometimes because he makes you feel so amazing all of the time, you just want to make him feel good too, and if you insist that you really really want to go down on him he might be willing to compromise into 69ing you... lowkey is really into 69ing because he gets off giving you pleasure.

Though when you are able to fully convince him into letting you suck him he’ll forget all about how he thinks it’s wrong making you take him like that, and will become super dominant,,, like he’ll grab onto your hair and grab onto the back of your neck harshly to hold you against him.

the noises he makes,,... heavenly

not the kind of guy to care whether or not you shave/wax, so after you start becoming more comfortable with your relationship, sexual or not, you can just stop shaving so regularly and he won’t mind one bit.

As for PDA, I don’t see Sungjin as someone who feels restrained showing his affection towards you in public, but at the same time he doesn’t want to put on a show for random people and let them into your private life together.

so he’ll be more than willing to hold your hand, wrap his arms around your waist, kiss your forehead, cheeks, and your lips, but he would never make out with you on a public bench or anything. And public sex is just too risky and unhygienic for him to even consider.

However, once you guys went to a party that Jae was throwing and you two got surprisingly drunk off of all the wine, and hardcore made out in front of the whole party,,, everyone has it on video.

Loves to shower with you. Likes to wash your hair for you, and massage your shoulders in the bath tub. Likes softer smells like lavender and shea butter. (together you discovered sex in a bathtub is just too messy, the water gets everywhere, but sex in the shower... hm... Sungjin really enjoys that)

Ok so I can lowkey see Sungjin being a really good mechanix. Like just imagine him wearing jeans and a black tee, leaning over into the open hood of your car working his magic or whatever and sweating. idk maybe that’s just my American fantasy.

Sungjin is not that good at dancing in clubs no he’s amazing (not that you guys even go to those) and in general but for some reason really damn good at ballroom dancing. Even if it’s just in your living room he is able to sweep you off your feet and into a waltz or something.

Sungjin has the record player on, with the lights dimmed, he dips in to give you a kiss, and it’s just so romantic...,,, he clutches you so close and tight.

On Saturday morning he likes to spread out on the couch in just his underwear and socks, and tbh he’s such a mess in the mornings, but a cute mess that you can’t help but snuggle up to him and watch whatever he has on the TV.

his bare skin is hot against your, it takes the chill out of your bones and makes you feel sleepy again.

Coffee over tea guy, but doesn’t really mind either. He loves waking up to the smell of coffee, and if you went out of your way to make bacon he might cry tears of joy.

For some reason I see Sungjin really into gummy bears, idk, and he only likes the green and clear ones and feeds the red ones to you.

(he likes them so much that he would make gummy bear Jell-O shots in college lol)

Not too keen on having children anytime soon, but would marry you in a heartbeat.

In fact he’s already talked to you about this as being the next big step in your relationship many times before, that or getting a dog.

Would definitely want to adopt a pet rather than buy one from a breeder. I also see Sungjin as a big dog person so he’d probably want some kind of lab/hound mix. (You might even be able to convince him to get a pitbull because he values loyal dogs like labs and retrievers)

omg this is me on a rant but just like imagine Sungjin owning a gray pitbull, sorry I tear up. IMAGINE going on walks with your dog and Sungjin and him taking the dog into the studio and letting it chill in the recording studio while he works.

Ok ok so you guys need to get a dog asap.

tbh the perfect boyfriend that will protect you and is just a bit possessive, but just to the extent where it’ll make your heart flutter.

<><> do not edit/remove anything from the original post <><> this AU belongs to me <><>

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