#like i know its just because im diligent and im full time and im always on floor bc im shit at behing behind the bar rn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gogolstoelicker · 2 years

Note

Hi! I loved your headcanons for BSD character mcs!! If it's alright with you, could I request the dorm leaders and vice dorm leaders with a fem! mc who is like Kunikida? (Idk why but the image of mc yelling at Leona to do something productive reminds me a little bit of Dazai and Kunikida's relationship)

Dorm leader + vice dorm leaders with a Kunikida!MC

warning(s): -

notes: LET'S GO OP I WAS ABT TO WRITE FOR KUNIKIDA MC BUT IT COMPLETELY LEFT MY MIND SO THANK YOU

•sorry its late tho JSNJSJS

You're very professional and diligent when it comes to your job. You constantly feel the need to organize, gather and schedule everything, which makes you come off as strict and harsh.

A trustworthy and loyal detective, your coworkers rely on you because of your authoritative capability and responsible nature.

Ability: The Matchless Poet (or Lone Poet i forgot), allows you to make objects written on the papers of your notebook come into existence. However, it does not work on objects larger than the notebook.

Riddle:

with your ideals and his rules, you guys can surely make the whole nrc cower in fear!

like they're in the cafeteria and they saw riddle? "i hope im not breaking any rules rn😥"

they're about to skip class and they saw you? "ah nvm, skipping is never an option😅"

you guys probably get along REALLY well

talking about the rules, ur ideals and how everyone is not following them

probably kins each other too at some point

you guys are now best buddies

like the whole school will always see the two of you hanging out once y'all have free time

i have free time today, hey wanna go to this unbirthday party?🤗

i have free time, wanna hang around, i made tea🤗

Trey:

oh sevens, another riddle😥

oh well trey dealt with riddle, so he knows how to deal with you too

tries his best to calm u down whenever some students pissed u off by ruining ur schedule

or anything u organized honestly

tells u to relax for a bit too

following a strict schedule everyday AND having to deal with the first years ruining ur schedule by accident AND not allowing urself to rest much???

he's right there next to you, trying to bribe you into resting

or threat idk🤔

it didn't work most of the times so

so he just have to be that one passive aggressive friend so you would rest or smth

did it work? sometimes if he tried harder

"u wouldn't want to ruin ur own schedule by passing out or anything right?^^"

"that's why i have enough sleep and exercise everyday"

^ur daily conversation probably

Leona:

if it's not for the fact that you're a lady, he would never listen to you lol

ruggie is forever greatful to have you around

bc as soon as u start telling leona off to stop skipping class and do something productive, he actually got up and do it

i mean he may looks like he's ten seconds away from ripping someone's throat out but at least he tries‼️

he actually leaves the class once he sees that you're not there but shhh

sometimes if he feels extra nice, he'll actually stay in the class

but he'll sleep in it LMAO he REFUSED to study

don't get him wrong, he appreciates that you even went out of your way to scold and sometimes motivate him to show his full potential but

he's a lazy lion at heart, you won't be able to get him to do anything

one time that happened again and someone snitched to you

leona is now forced to listen to your few hours lecture and how it does not fit ur ideals for him to not study

literally leona the whole time:

Azul:

oh you definitely got feed by his lies LMFOAOAOA

even azul himself is surprised by how naive you could be

BUT this only means MORE advantage to him👓✨

the amount of lies he fed u everyday...

its like that annoying scam seller that came knocking on ur door everyday

or those who tried to promote their "religion" cult on the streets

either way, that's how azul looks like to u everyday

he's sly so he probably made it seemed like smth good until jack just

pulls u away from azul so u won't get roped into some weird deal that won't benefit u at all

he ALWAYS finds a loophole in ur ideals so he can just

idk not follow but follow ur ideals at the same time?

Jade:

he doesn't really mind you that much? as long as you're not nagging him about something of course

which is lowkey rare bc u approve of him apparently🤔

like attitude, style and how he handles work? P E R F E C T. CHEF'S KISS

while u do like how he's on time for schedule and actually gets his work done, u don't really like how uh

scheming he can be😥

but oh well he's from octavinelle, u cant do much about it so u just avoid him

he's actually quite amused that u even approve of him

he didn't know he could fit ur ideals but now that he knows, you know he will never let it go

now u have to deal with a 191cm tall man looming over u and teasing u subtly nonstop

if he hace free time that is since hes usually busy with monstro lounge and floyd's antics🤔

Kalim:

u crying bc he reminds u of ur annoying coworker

him being happy meeting jamil's best buddy

yes i said best buddy what about it

he actually liked to listen to ur rant abt ur ideals

i mean he may not understand it fully but he's willing to listen!

literally dragged u to his parties

yes, u dont like parties. yes, u have works to do

but u gotta relax and have fun sometimes prefect so let him drag u to have fun!

cue u standing in the corner with a glass of juice in hand

"what do people do at parties?" u may ask

and then u see kalim absolutely eating up the dance floor and having fun

oh.

he would even try to drag u to dance with him

goodluck trying to get away from said party

Jamil:

cries heavy tears

it's tears of happiness btw

fiNALly! someone who can take his place to take care of kalim once in a while!

the gods have finally heard his prayers after all this time, he's so happy

sometimes, he would even hang out with you just because

well if you're both not busy that is🤔

he's mostly busy with kalim's shenanigans and you have your day planned out already so

so if u both EVER have a free time, you guys would hang out‼️

with kalim tagging along ofc bc he can't really leave him alone

him being even more happy bc u don't have this favoritism towards either of them and actually treats them equally

and not treating him like kalim's shadow

him to u probably

Vil:

ah yes, probably got along too

he agree with ur ideals here and there

esp if it have smth to do with having good posture and how to present yourself better

might even ask to read through some of it

who knows, he might get a nice advice here and there

he would also give u some advice

u writing it down on ur book and trying to achieve that exact same thing the very next day

and vil wiping a single tear that left from his eyes bc omg!! that's his student!!

/hj

he does feel a sense of pride and is actually very proud of himself and u a little whenever u listen to his advice

probably the one to do ur makeup if he have spare time just so he can make sure u look the absolute best💯

overall, could be best advice buddies but both are too busy to hang out too🤗

Rook:

caught him following stalking a someone

so now he's in a lecture abt how that's wrong

he is kind of like 🤩 when he first saw u

who is this strict prefect he may ask🤔

it's you🤩‼️‼️

while he does not follow u around daily, he does sing praises to you whenever u two crossed paths

welp there goes ur schedule😔you're 10 seconds late bc of him😔

actually doesn't mind his praises, u just wish he wouldn't tell u in the middle of the hallways

probably one of the first ones to find out about your ability

with rook and his stalking investigation skills, he can and will find out everything‼️

him cornering u sometimes just so he can tell u more praises

u shaking and crying bc u just wanna go through ur schedule and this is the 5th time he stopped u this week and it's only monday

Idia:

a victim of u

in a good way i think🤔

ortho is probably the one whp introduced y'all

you, who saw idia , rolled up your sleeves and tried to make him have a healthier lifestyle

ofc u won't drag him out

it's just u whipping out a 100 slides powerpoint with your ideal book in hand telling him how much negative impact it would have living the way he is and ways to improve

he's shaking and crying bc u did this everytime you guys meet in his room

how do u even get in his room? i don't know either

he would sometimes roll his eyes here and there when u go on ur daily lecture

probably also saw u pull out some items from ur book bc u have to outline smth in the powerpoint to prove ur point

and he just goes🤨😮⁉️⁉️

it's a magic book⁉️⁉️

found out u can also pull out a gun from that and decided to listen carefully to your lectures from that day on

Malleus:

well he doesn't mind how strict u are with urself and others

he thinks its a rather good quality to have

he, as a future ruler, can surely learn a thing or two from u

u sobbing bc there's finally someone who's willing to go with ur ideals after riddle

he listens to u really well, he even tried to his best to follow it!

but there are times he would tell u to relax for a bit too

u must've been tired🤗come with him for a walk to rest ur mind🤗

u rejecting it bc its supposed to be ur bedtime

u going with him anyway bc he somehow convinced you

with sad lightnings bc he was sulking LMFOAOAOA

Lilia:

peepaw is always there to tell u to relax!

you'll get burnt out if u keep putting ur 100 into everything and putting urself into some strict schedule, take a break sometimes

found out how naive u could be

u could now see lilia growing horns and devil's tail

there's not a day lilia won't trick u

be it for his own amusement or for u to rest

like maybe he would make up some lie like

"in nrc, if u don't rest for a few hours, you'll surely get cursed by the great sevens for ur ideals to never come true"

cue u having tea time with lilia as rest, eating cookies and chatting away

it's a gamble if it's homemade by yours truly or brought from Sam's store

if it's made by lilia, then u can scold him once u made a trip to the infirmary🤗

probably tried to help him around in the kitchen so he could make better food

he appreciates it but his cooking, in fact, did not improve at all

in fact, its ur headache that improved bc of how many times u have to stop him from putting random ingredients in

#twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil shoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #trey clover #jade leech #jamil viper #rook hunt #lilia vanrouge

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tteokdoroki · 3 years

Text

— “GOOD GIRL + KATSUKI BAKUGOU.”

author’s note(s): a self indulgent little piece i decided to make because im obsessed with bakugou, his fingers and him being a condescendingly soft dom. dedicated to my fellow bakugou bimbo @luv-dum n my honey @greenchild n thanks to big bro @husband-to-tomura-shigaraki for encouraging me!!!

warning(s): mdni, 18+. smut, soft dom!bakugou, slapping, daddy!kink,mentions of pet play + collaring, oral fixation, fem!reader.

you were such a good girl for him, weren’t you? never misbehaving or breaking any of the rules— you always served katsuki bakugou with a smile, his sweet innocent little girls who did everything that daddy told her to. there wasn’t a thing you wouldn’t do to please him, from wearing cute little outfits he can tear right off of your body to sitting on your knees— collared up and chained by the door waiting for him after a long day of work.

so who was he to not reward his sweet little girl?

“c’mon angel, tell daddy what you want.” bakugou coos, vermillion eyes lidded while he watches you struggle underneath him— your thighs are shaky around his slender waist and legs resting atop muscled shoulders from years of training. using skilled fingers, the pro hero presses harsh circles into your slick, letting them fumble against your clit.

in reality, katsuki knows you can barely find the words to respond— your brain at its fuzziest as you take everything your daddy gives to you. orgasm after orgasm, you don’t resist him as his cock hits deep within your plush, soaking walls. bakugou rolls his hips into yours slowly, basking in the way your face twitches at every movement of your bodies against one another. you were so sensitive, cunt clamping down deliciously around his tip as he pulls his hips back and pulls himself out of you— honeyed whimpers slipping from between your lips that were bitten cherry red and raw.

you’re so sensitive, so good and it’s all for him. always for him.

“ku...kugo,” you whine, eyes crossed and breath hitched. your chest rises and falls with every breathless moan you release from parted lips— almost in sync with the way your breasts bounce with katsuki’s thick, heavy girth that pounds into your puckered hole. tears fall prettily from your sparkling doe eyes, some caught in your lashes while others run tracks down the apples of your chubby cheeks in sync with your black mascara. the pro hero will never get over how lucky he is to have to sweet thing like you, his darling piece of ass to fuck and call his own.

his baby, his cock sleeve, his cute little play thing. possession burns brightly in his chest and the scarred hand that drew patterns of pleasure against your puffy clit now flies upwards and wraps tightly around your neck, the pads of bakugou’s fingers sinking into the supple skin at your throat while a primal growl sounds in the bottom of his own.

the way you squeal at the sudden pressure makes the hero dizzy, a haze settling over his dark ruby gaze while he fucks into you harder, faster— balls heavy with seed slapping against your peachy ass. “i know, baby...daddy knows,” katsuki sighs down at you softly, speaking over your mindless babbles and adorable mewls.

he lips push into a mock pout, head cocked to the side while he drives his dick into your gummy pleasure spot to see you cry. “you’re being fucked so good, right? fucked so dumb that my little baby can’t even speak?” briefly, his hand leaves your throat to pats your wet cheek, and all though your vision swims you still look up at him a dopey smile and eyes full of love. “so stupid baby, if you want something you have to ask for it, you know that.”

a feral groan leaves the blonde’s lips when you clamp down on him and your juices leak from your hole, painting his pelvis. all this and just from his words alone— your hips even lifting pathetically in an attempt to meet his fast paced thrusts. “fingers,” you cry out dumbly, on the verge of tears again. “wan’ your fingers ku, please-!”

and there it is, your sweet little plead to get what you want, even using your manners. you’re his well trained little girl, always so well behaved even when being fucked like this. grinning, bakugou releases your throat for the second time and leans down— pressing your bodies flush against one another and he’s so close that he can feel your pebbled nipples against his broad pecs. instinctively, like the well trained pet you are, you tilt your head up ready to receive another kiss— mind fogging up at the thought of your tongues clashing once more.

but instead, pro hero dynamight pulls down on your bottom lip— dripping a glob of spit between your parted lips before forcing two of his digits into your heated mouth. “is that what you wanted?” he murmurs, watching as your eyes light up and your cunt starts to ooze more of your sweet nectar. “yeah, you fuckin’like that don’cha baby? all the dumb little girl wanted was daddy’s fingers to fuckin’ suck on. yer s’cute, princess.”

you look so pleased, so pacified as you suck diligently on bakugou’s fingers. taking them in greedily while your eager hole grips his cock for all his worth. with fluttering eyes and lashes that tickle your cheeks, you nod your head obediently, whining when your daddy presses down on your sweet tongue. the sight alone could be enough to make the man cum, paint your insides with white and claim your cunt as his but instead, he fucks your mouth in sync with the pace of his cock— pulling out every once in a while to tap his leaking head against your puffy clit and watch you squirm.

and you’d take it, all of it, because you were katsuki bakugou’s good little girl and you would do anything to stay good for him.

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elysianslove · 3 years

Text

euphoria ; itadori yuuji

synopsis; a serene beach date, followed by intimacy at home

pairing; itadori yuuji x fem!reader

genre; fluff, smut

warnings; smut! unprotected sex, which i do not condone this is fanfiction people. curses i guess? yuuji being cute as fuck <3

note; all characters are 18+ . please don’t read the smut if you’re a minor. there’ll be a page break separating the fluff from the smut! this shit is like over 4k words rip im sorry if there are mistakes

━━ it's not the first time he's seen you in a swimsuit. it's not even a bikini this time, and he's seen you in much more revealing clothing. you've laid bare next to him as the sun seeped through the curtains and woke the two of you up, and taken countless showers with him, soaked in the water inside a bathtub, his revealed chest to your naked back. and yet, yuuji gawks at you like it is the first time.

you only huff out a laugh as you slip the cover up off your shoulders, kneeling down to roughly fold it in your bag. his gaze is piercing, but you like the lingering presence of it. he whistles as you stand to your full height again, before eagerly removing shirt with a grin, reaching for the neck hemline and pulling it off. "so hot," he tells you, earning an eye roll from you. you're not given much warning before his strong arms are wrapping around your waist, picking you up off of the sand.

"yuuji, put me down!" you exclaim, but he only lifts you up higher, tossing you up on his shoulder.

he grips your waist with one arm, the other reaching up to grasp at your thighs as soon as you see the waves of the beach dance over to where your boyfriend stands. he continues inward, the water rising up to his waist, before he whispers out a measly apology, something like, "sorry, babe," before he's throwing you off his shoulder into the salty water.

a scream ripples out of your throat as you flail around, but there's no stopping it. you hit the water suddenly, initially freezing cold, before you move your limbs frantically to push your head out of the water. scowling at your boyfriend, who's cackling as if he were a wizard that's defeated his lifelong enemy, you push your hair out of your face. "what was that for!" you ask, swimming over to where he is.

he sinks below the water before you, his chin hovering over the water as he laughs. "it was out of love," he argues. "i wish i'd recorded it; your scream was hilarious."

instead of wallowing, you paint a mischievous grin on your lips as you plant your feet onto the sand beneath you, and leap up, aiming to dunk your boyfriend's head beneath the water. he's trained though, maybe not exactly for situations like this, but his reflexes are as sharp as ever. he catches your wrists easily, shifting his grasp of them in one hand, before using the other to grab your waist and push you beneath the water again. your eyes sting at the intrusion of salt water, throat burning, but the only true, lingering thought on your mind is just how easy it was for him to deflect you like that. you're terribly aware of yuuji's athleticism and strength, and yet it always manages to catch you off guard.

"no fair, yuuji," you say, pouting up at him as you blink away the residue of salt in your eyes. "that's twice in a row!"

yuuji only laughs again, reaching out for you beneath the water. his hands settle on your waist, but it's a soothing touch this time. no mischievousness behind them, only safety and security. he urges you closer to him until you rest your forearms on his shoulders, and then he leans forward to kiss the tip of your nose. "i promise no more slam dunking in the water," he tells you, lowering his lips to finally meet yours. you kiss him gently, enjoying the taste of salt that linger on your tongue when he opens his mouth for you. maybe it's a little lewd of you, openly making out with your boyfriend in a public beach's waters, but who can blame you really? he's breathtaking.

and you don't hesitate to him so. "you're mesmerizing, yuuji," you confess, lifting a hand to brush through his damp hair. some strands are sticking to his forehead, the pink of them more evident underneath the sunlight. you think that maybe he's left you this way, so mindlessly in love with him, because of the kiss. but really, you always feel this way for him. even if subconsciously.

"maybe i should slam dunk you more often," he teases you, but ultimately, he leans in for another kiss. "i think you're pretty neat."

"pretty neat, hm?" you wonder.

he hums. "yeah. the coolest girlfriend i could ask for, maybe," he continues. "prettiest, too." you humor him, and nod diligently. "by a long run, baby."

you press one last kiss on his lips, a quick peck, before pushing yourself out of his arms' hold, laying back atop the water. "help me float," you ask him, and then you feel his hands settle flat on your back, leaving a trail of heat along your spine. he's clueless of his effects as his face hovers over yours, shielding you from the sun, and you're insistent on keeping it that way, offering him a small smile.

he helps you dance above the waves for a few minutes, occasionally asking you random questions that you, honest to god, weren't sure if anyone had the answers to. and then, inevitably, he pouts down at you, complaining in a low voice, "m'hungry, babe."

thankfully, you'd prepared in advance for this date. rushing out of the water, with yuuji's hand in yours, you race across the sand to where your belongings were, an umbrella propped up for shade. you shiver as a breeze travels past you, painting goosebumps along your skin while your boyfriend urges you to move faster. as soon as you're there, he picks up your towel first, quickly wrapping it around your trembling frame and rubbing his hands up and down your arms, attempting to warm you up.

"all good?" he wonders, and you nod, even if you're still freezing, because he's still yet to dry himself off. finally, the two of you settle on the ground, a cloth beneath you acting as barrier to the sand, and you pull out the snacks you'd packed from your bag. all of his favorites. "you really are the best," he tells you, moaning as he takes a bite into his food. you offer him a sincere smile, shuffling nearer to him for both his body heat and to rest your head on his shoulder while you eat.

there really is no telling how time will pass when you’re with him. sometimes it’s slow, languid, the universe taking its time to stretch out the moments between you two, allowing you to lose yourself within every little thing. every kiss felt like a hundred, every embrace lasted years, every glance left a lingering tingle at the bottom of your spine. other times it’s quick, breathtakingly fast, but you still feel everything as strongly as you would on the opposing days. your heart just beats a little faster, racing to catch up with the way time speeds around you. his touch is fleeting, but the effect he has on you is always eternal. today, the earth seems to slow down with you, to accommodate with your need and desire to feel every moment to the fullest. it sympathizes with you, makes sure you catch even the tiniest of movements from yuuji, like the way his eyes blink rapidly to rid himself of the intruding salt dripping from his hair, or the way he’s moving closer to you to rest his head above yours.

god, you’re such a sap.

there’s another breeze that flies by, and you shiver again, instinctively pushing yourself closer to him. yuuji takes note, lifting his arm to wrap it around you, encasing you in his warmth.

“if you could be any animal, what would you be?” he asks you. it’s not sudden, the type of question, but his voice so near you is.

you only shiver again as you shrug. “i don’t know. never really gave it much thought,” you admit. “maybe a seal or something. they seem to be doing great.”

“a seal?” he wonders, then cranes his neck to look down at you with an approving grin. “nice one, babe.”

you snort, pushing your head into the crook of his neck, sighing against his collarbones. “what about you?”

his grip tightens around you as he rubs his hand up and down your arm soothingly. then, he replies, “maybe an eagle.”

“because it symbolizes freedom?” you ask.

yuuji shrugs softly. “maybe. or just because i’d like to fly. i’d carry you on my back and take you wherever you want,” he fantasizes.

“baby,” you start, sitting up straight to face him. “that’s what planes are for.”

the look on his face emits loud laughter from you, but he pinches the skin of your upper arm with a playful scowl, scoffing, “yeah but planes aren’t free, are they?” you hum, falling back into his embrace. he easily places his arms back around you, fitting you against him perfectly, before he speaks again. “where would you want to go?” he asks.

you sigh, “anywhere with you.”

he freezes for a moment, before he lets out a giggle. “you sap! god, you’re so in love with me.”

you can’t find it within yourself to tease him because, yes, you really are so in love with him. and you had meant it. his laughter fades out into happy sighs, and then he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “i’m so in love with you too.”

maybe you should’ve anticipated that this is where you’d be the moment you arrived back home with yuuji. it’s not that you minded; if anything, this is probably your fault more than his. it was evident in the way even the smallest of his touches, specifically today, lit a familiar fire in the pit of your stomach. inevitably, you figured, you would have found yourself in his lap anyways, knees perched on either side of him, legs spread and a flush traveling from your cheeks down to your chest.

you’d gone home with him with tired eyes and a glow to your skin. showering together hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary, either. it was simple, intimate, also hilarious when a wad of shampoo had fallen into one of yuuji’s eyes, prompting screams from him you never thought you’d hear. it’s after the shower that trouble started.

he had lazily leaned against the bed, only a towel wrapped his waist, his head tossed back against the wall. the tired sigh that left his lips mesmerized you, but you knew your thoughts were to remain as that, simple imaginations, because there’s no way either of you have a speck of energy for anything. you’re proven wrong when your boyfriend beckons you over onto the bed, not giving you much chance to even slip off your robe and into something slightly more comfortable. instead of allowing you to sit next to him, he’d lead you over onto his lap, propping you up, before capturing your lips in a lazy kiss.

you’d returned it, of course, because nothing feels better than kissing yuuji. nothing feels better than kissing yuuji with your hands on his neck, on his sturdy chest, down to strong stomach. the kiss turns feverish quickly, his grip on your covered waist tightening considerably before they travel down to your hips. he lifts himself up to sit more upright, guiding you closer to him, closer to where he wants you to be, before pushing you down harder onto him. against his mouth, you moan instinctively, hands traveling to tug lightly at his hair. a breathless gasp escapes his lips when you finally start grinding your lower body against his, his hands enforcing a bruising grip on your hips. you��re still covered, and so is he, but it isn’t long before the adrenaline truly takes over, and yuuji’s lifting his hips up to rid himself of the towel.

you’re about to follow suit, but even beneath you, he takes charge, untying the robe and slipping it off your shoulders hastily. neither of you dares to break the kiss as you’re finally completely bare before each other, and yuuji reaches forward to wrap his arms around your waist, pushing your chest flush against his. the action elicits a moan from the both of you, and you feel your nipples hardening as they brush against the muscle of yuuji’s chest. tiredness is long forgotten as your hips begin to grind aimlessly along his lap, and, in response, yuuji unfastens his left arm from around you, using the right one to steady you on top of him, as he brings one hand down between your legs.

his fingers brush against your folds, and he groans loudly at the first feel of you. he pulls back, breathlessly, to look into your eyes, noticing how hazy they’ve become, your pupils fully blown. then, he says, “wanna make you cum on my fingers, yeah?” a whine tumbles out from your lips and you nod frantically, giving him your answer to his indirect ask for consent. he collects some of your wetness on his fingers, before slowly slipping in his middle finger. although your mind had expected it, the intrusion is sudden to your body, and you lift yourself up reflexively. yuuji’s stronger than you though, and the grip of his right arm doesn’t falter as he sinks his finger deeper into you. he watches you through half lidded eyes as you throw your head back, welcoming easily the feeling that’s slowly beginning to overtake you.

he pulls out his finger to the first knuckle before pushing it back in, repeatedly, until he hears a breathless, “more,” fall from your lips. your wish is his command, and when he pulls his finger out, a second joins, filling you up even before. it’s incredible how easily you’re falling apart right before him, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly, your chest heaving as his fingers speed up their ministrations. he leans forward, clasping his mouth around one of your nipples, earning an even louder moan from you. your chest rises against his mouth, and his teeth clamp down lightly, pulling at your nipple, abusing it, as his fingers continue to drill in and out of you. his thumb reaches up to rub lightly against your clit, strengthening the fire filling your veins.

you’re making a mess of him, you’re sure, and you have half a mind to finally open your eyes and glance down at him. he’s fixated on you and your pleasure, mouth eager on your chest, arm flexing as he pushes two of his fingers in and out relentlessly. “m’gonna cum,” you whine helplessly, trembling in his grasp. he hums against your chest, letting your nipple fall from between his lips as his tongue dances along the perks. “yuuji, i’m gonna cum!”

he laughs, looking back up at you when you throw your head back, uselessly attempting to rock your hips in time to meet the thrust of his fingers. teasingly, he retorts, “nothing’s stopping you, darling.”

you’re already shaking in his grip, gradually losing more control of your body’s reactions. then, his eyes meets yours as he looks up, the same time his fingers are curling inside you and his teeth reach out to tug at your nipple —

you scream when you cum, sobbing helplessly as his fingers work you through your orgasm. your thighs involuntarily flex and you lean forward, unable to hold yourself up. his mouth leaves your nipple to allow him the pleasure of watching you properly. “fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant in a whisper, head falling onto his shoulder. his fingers don’t stop however, and you have to reach in between you to grip at his wrist in a silent plea.

yuuji laughs again, finally slowing down his hand’s movements until he eventually pulls his fingers out. “feel good baby?” he asks, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck as he feels your breathing slowly steady itself. you’re still slightly trembling atop him, but you know that you’re not even close to finished for the night.

you hum in response, nodding against him. lifting yourself up, yuuji beams up at your state, skin flushed and hair damp — he’s not sure if it’s the sweat or the shower from earlier, but either way, you look too gorgeous for your own good. unexpectedly, he feels you lift up his hand, gripping at his palm, before your mouth falls open, tongue slipping out, and you place his sticky fingers onto the muscle. his breathing halts when you wrap your lips around the digits, and he silently curses when he feels you suck lightly, tongue dancing over, around and in between his fingers.

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he admits to you, and you hum again around his fingers diligently. “come on,” he urges you, pulling his fingers out of your mouth and placing both hands on your waist. “can’t let you have all the fun.”

you giggle, nodding in agreement as you place your hands atop his. “want me to be on top?” you suggest.

“yeah, if you want me dead,” he jokes, before easily flipping the two of you over. you can’t help the squeal that cuts from your lips, but he swallows it easily with his mouth on yours, replacing it with a throaty moan. you can feel his dick hard against your thigh, leaking precum, smudged along your skin. he lifts himself up further along your body, pressing down against you until his heavy cock is trapped between your lower abdomens.

“yuuji, come on,” you whine up at him. your hand slides down to between you two, gripping the head of his cock, thumbing the slit. his figure falters above you, his arms trembling slightly at the feel of your hand around him.

his hand comes down to yours, swatting it off, before shifting down slightly to line himself up at your entrance. with his other hand, he spreads your legs further apart, hooking one onto his arm. once he’s satisfied, he settles the tip of his cock near your dripping sex, reveling in the noises that are spewing out of you — countless moans and breathless chants of please, please, please. he loves you always, but especially like this, all spread out for him, the heat of you nearly sucking him in as he teases your pussy.

“you look so pretty like this, baby,” he voices. you whine again as he rubs the head of his dick against your clit, throwing your head back and reaching out to grip his arm.

“please, yuuji,” you beg, and maybe if he had an ounce of self control within him at this rate he’d drag this out a little more. he’d tease you endlessly, till the sun came up again. but there’s a hunger within him that’s pleading and begging to be sated, so against all odds, with his fist wrapped around the base of his cock, he slowly enters you.

you muffle a cry at the feel of your walls stretching around him to accommodate him, and he can physically feeling you spasming around him already. he groans as he continues to sink in, his hand reaching out to fist the pillow by your head. your breath is heavy, labored, when he finally bottoms out. you feel so warm around him, it’s dizzying. “fucking tight,” he groans, his jaw tight.

he steadies himself, waiting for you to relax slightly. he doubts he’d be able to move even a little with how tight you felt around him, but slowly, surely, he feels you lift your hips slightly. “more, yuuji,” you mumble, eyes cloudy. he lifts his hand from near your head, gripping your hip instead, and with your leg lifted up on his shoulder, he pulls out, before slamming back in. your back arches as a loud moan rips from your throat, mindlessly cursing, “fuck!” he does it again, encouraged by the noises you’re making and the way your body’s reacting to him. you’re so fucking wet, dripping down onto the bed beneath the two of you, but he can’t even begin to think of anything but the fact that he’s reducing you to this state.

he continues to thrust diligently into you, his hips snapping against yours repeatedly. with the angle he’s fucking you, he continuously hits a specific spot within you, leaving your head cloudy and your spine tingling. he’s splitting you open in half at this point, but all you can do is lay there, muscles tight and exhausted, skin slick with sweat and chest flushed, rising and falling rapidly. your breasts bounce with every thrust, and you’re convinced he’s fucking you stupid as your eyes roll back, your back arching off the bed.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he praises you. “so good, pretty.” his voice is breathless, deeper too, and you look up at him for a split second. his eyes are trained down to where your bodies are connected, watching as you take him so well, his gaze never wavering.

when he leans forward, dropping your leg to wrap it around his waist instead, you know he’s getting close. his cock twitches inside of you, his hands coming to rest by your waist on the bed. his fingers, suddenly, come to work at your clit, rubbing at the bundle of nerves harshly. “it’s too much! too good!” you wail, and he drinks it at all, his fingers growing slick again with your wetness.

“i wanna feel you cum all over me,” he tells you, thrusts somehow deeper. you let out a broken sob, your nails digging into his shoulders as he works you over to the edge. he’s given no warning other than the relentless squeezing of your pussy around him and your repeated cries of “cumming, cumming, cumming!” before you’re trembling beneath him, struggling to catch your breath as your hips lift up off the bed. the orgasm continues to rock through as yuuji’s thrusts grow sloppier.

“where do you want me?” he shakily asks. despite the overstimulation and the over sensitivity, you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you. he rests his head in the crook of your neck, his quiet moans music to your ears so close to you. “darling,” he groans, gripping your waist as he uses your body to bring himself closer to his high.

“inside, yuuji,” you mumble, pressing a kiss to his temple. “please, please, plea—“ a gasp tumbles out as he suddenly stills, your words sending him over the edge. his muscles flex, slightly trembling within your arms, his small pants spreading heat along your skin.

slowly, he fucks into you, riding out his high, pressing chaste kisses along your neck and throat. “love you so much,” he mumbles, finally stilling.

you feel sticky, sweaty, and not at all clean in comparison to when you’d just stepped out of the shower. but you also feel blissful, euphoric, hazy and completely satisfied. yuuji lifts his head up finally, lifting himself up slightly to pull out of you. his cum trickles out slowly, but he pays it no mind as he flops half of his body atop yours, and you let out a pained laugh.

“yuuji!” you whine. “you’re heavy.” he only hums tiredly, his arm slung along your middle, his cheek against your shoulder. you bring a hand up, the one he isn’t immobilizing, to brush away his hair. his eyes are barely kept open, but he still manages to smile dreamily at you. your fingers ghost over his features, admiring them, tracing his soft skin, unknowingly lulling him to sleep. “okay, king of aftercare,” you joke, and he huffs out a laugh.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles. “aftercare tomorrow.”

you nod, beaming brightly, and leaning over to press a kiss to his forehead. his chest begins rising and falling slowly, telling you he’s already asleep, but when you mumble out, “i love you so much, too,” and press a kiss to his cheek, you swear he smiles.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen smut #yuji itadori x reader #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori smut #itadori yuuji smut

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kghr-8125 · 2 years

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So guess who just learned today that:

(Yes this is a horrible picture but pls excuse it)

This will not be leaving my mind for some time now because it fueled some brainrots

Its always been a reccuring thought to me how Hirano and Kagiura at the surface may look like their personalities are very different but that's not actually it.

We have Hirano who is a member of the disciplinary committee and is pretty diligent and straight-lace.He follows the rules regularly and tends to do everything by the book despite having bleached his hair blond.He's closed off and other people tend to find him intimidating.

Then we have Kagiura who is a member of the basketball team.He's carefree and is more sociable.He's very honest,straightforward and tends to be well-liked by other people and is in general an easy person to get along well.

At first glance they look like the classic introverted nerd and extroverted jock dynamic but there's actually more to it especially when you notice how some of their interest and personality actually overlaps.

We find out that back in middle school Hirano actually used to be in a sport team of his own and that he was in the track team.And Kagiura may not be that good at studying but I heard he's at least good at biology and he seems to have an interests in stars too.

Not only that they both are hardworking,competitive and very determined when it comes to getting what they want.They also are very decidated to what they do(Hirano spends his weekends studying in the library and likewise Kagiura also does the same by playing basketball despite not having practice during those days)

They both clearly have a goal in mind and are very decicated to making it come true which lead to them both coming and meeting in the dorms.

Both are two sore losers who hates losing and are also intelligent in their own ways but can also be dumb in certain aspects.

Because i love them a normal amount(yeah definitely) I sometimes think back to their animal images to find more things to think about when im waiting for a new chapter every month and seeing how Hirano's is a gray wolf and Kagiura being a shiba inu it definitely connected some dots in my head and finding out now how Shiba inus are closely related to wolves only encouraged many thoughts too.

It only started of as me thinking of Hirano being a gray wolf may be hinting that his home situation growing up may have been very different to the one Kagiura grew up in.

Kagiura obviously grew up in a loving family full of people who were really close to one another and tho he was a middle child im sure he still grew up receiving tons of love and care to be the kind of person he is today.Domestic dogs like shiba inus tend to be kept as pets and when they have great owners they also grow up receiving lots of love and everything they need to grow up as adorable doggies who deserve all great things in life.

In contrast to Hirano who has a wolf animal image.Wolves are creatures who lives in a wild and has to deal with harsher things to survive like tough weathers and having to hunt their own food to eat.Wolves as i heard actually tends to avoid human interactions too so with all these in mind i like to think there's a possibility of Hirano growing up in a tough and strict environment,maybe he was also sheltered or didn't get much chance to see the outside world(this also makes me believe why he's said to be into planes cause if i were to see it in a child's point of view planes are amazing because they get to go anywhere)

As harsh as he's possible living situation may be I don't think he grew up fully receiving zero love cause as I remember he seems to get along well with his parents although we sadly don't know much about how things are between his other relatives.

It doesn't even need to be his home life maybe middle school was hell for him too and he didn't have much friends.Alot to think about really.

This also just leads me back to how despite being an only child Hirano seems to be pretty independent and self reliant on his own and also manages to take great care of others(like a wild wolf taking care of the members of his pact).I dont like to believe that Kagiura is helpless on his own since im pretty sure he can manage himself,he just like being taken care of and spoiled by Hirano(like a domestic dog who was treated with great care growing up) but out of the two of them Hirano seems like the most reliable one.

Anyway im gonna wrap this all up by ending it with how much I love that at the end of the day Hirano and Kagiura are different enough to have lives outside of eachother yet similar enough to get along well and balance each other out and also bond over similar things.

#Welcome back to another long post about me rambling and overanalyzing things base on litte hints that may not mean anything at all #Maybe im just desperate for new stuff anf possible lore to think about but again take this all with a grain of salt #I love them a normal amount i promise you #Kagihira middle school and life before high school lore when #Its not a want anymore its a need #also what are the chances of sensei dropping angst on vol.4 despite it being supposedly a romcom #hirano to kagiura #hirano taiga #kagiura akira #kagihira #analysis and rambles

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nagipops · 3 years

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KONOHA ELEVEN IN A ZOOM CLASS!

FEATURING: naruto, sakura, shikamaru, ino, choji, hinata, kiba, shino, neji, rock lee, and tenten

WARNINGS: mentions of food

NARUTO

definitely has forgotten that he was unmuted multiple times

or his camera was accidentally turned on

you could just see him sprawled on his bed with a bowl of instant ramen on his lap and a blanket wrapped around himself

EARRAPE SLURPS!! rip headphone users.

sometimes he notices that his camera’s turned on and you can see him freak out and scramble to turn it off

but he accidentally unmutes himself too and so you just hear panicked yelling

his device topples to the floor with a loud crash and he screams so loud istg

the next thing you see is naruto’s face hovering over the camera in fear just before his camera turns off and he’s muted again

the teacher is so confused?? naruto should i call an ambulance

but when he’s not eating in class, he’s sleeping in class

too busy sleeping to leave the zoom at the end of class so he’s always the last one left in the meeting besides the teacher

always asks sakura what happened during the zoom and she is FED UP

SAKURA

enters the waiting room 15 minutes before class is actually supposed to begin

spends the next 15 minutes rearranging her work area, making sure she’s prepared for the day

sits properly at her desk with her hair smoothed down and her face positioned perfectly in frame

if no one else has their camera on, she’s the only one with it on

seriously, she ALWAYS HAS IT ON

and she never leaves the screen somehow

diligently takes notes, uses the “raise hand” feature every two minutes to ask a question

sometimes it can get a bit annoying, even for the teacher

but she almost always gets perfect marks

acts like in angel in class, but after class... no promises, naruto!

SHIKAMARU

this man can barely stay awake during missions, so during a zoom? HECK NAH

shikamaru is literally me,, half asleep during lessons but somehow gets amazing grades

everyone’s either pissed at or envious of him (especially naruto)

obviously does not have his camera on

and rarely ever unmutes

uses the chat feature to answer the teacher’s questions but this man is basically asleep so its so incoherent

“shikamaru, what is a hyperbole?”

in chat: “a hyeprbole is a exsaggerayed phras,e”

teacher definitely thinks he’s cheating on tests

INO

either a) daydreaming about boys or b) checking herself out in the zoom camera OR c) secretly fuming at sakura’s know-it-all behavior

the two girls definitely compete to see who can raise their virtual hand first

"ahem, ahem- sensei? could i answer this question?"

her voice gets all sickly sweet and sakura HATES IT

the two of them totally got caught insulting each other in the private chat

100% the type of student to rewrite her notes after classes with various markers and colored pens and pretty fonts and patterns and whatnot

loves doodling flowers in her notebook during boring lessons!

CHOJI

another strong contender for the Loudest Student award!

not on purpose though, he just forgets that space bar = unmute, and plays some jumping game in another tab (like the no internet dino game!)

also,, rip headphone users

c r o n c h munch munch munch

are you kidding this man's chews are loud enough in person, but with a HEADSET?! hoo boy.

has conked out several times during class

just imagine the name Choji Akimichi with a profile picture of a bag of chips light up with the green box around it with a thunk

the teacher and class is so confused

but then you hear mumbles of "barbeque... chips... barbeque..."

and you realize that the man fell asleep onto his keyboard

he sleeps through the rest of class

HINATA

shy bb has never ONCE turned on her camera

the only time she's ever unmuted was to say "here" during attendance on the first day of school

if the teacher ever takes attendance again, she just uses the raise hand feature

what if naruto-kun thinks my voice is ugly? what if i accidentally turn on my camera? what if the teacher thinks i'm not paying attention? what if-

poor baby is too busy worrying about showing herself on zoom to actually pay attention

actually gets good grades though and her classmates wonder if she’s even there

her zoom pfp is definitely just a purple google “H”

KIBA

has the CUTEST zoom pfp hands down

it’s a selfie of him grinning cheerily with baby akamaru

100% has his camera on the whole time to show off his pup

he loves seeing everyone’s faces on screen melt and aww at the lil big doggo

sometimes akamaru just walks in front of the camera and blocks kiba from view and you just see a massive wall of white fur on screen LMAO

even though kiba’s muted, you can see him and akamaru bickering about who knows what

or even play fighting,, these two get into full on BRAWLS during class

just imagine akamaru shoves kiba into his desk and his camera crashes to the ground overturned so you see the ceiling and the occasional dog tail wagging in the corner

seriously, can the teacher ever catch a break with this class?

the answer is no.

SHINO

his zoom pfp is just a tick.

a singular tick

totally answers questions in chat with proper capitalization and punctuation

shikamaru’s improper answers tick him off

“A hyperbole is an expression that is greatly exaggerated. They are used in order to create emphasis.”

has never unmuted in his life either

he’s so unfazed by everything that goes down in class that it’s funny

if anything the slightest bit RELATED to bugs comes up during class, in 0.00238 seconds this man has an entire essay about them posted in chat, almost like he had it copied and READY to paste

everyone's definitely shocked that there’s actually a human listening behind a tick profile picture

NEJI

a very diligent note taker

seriously, this man writes like a printer; perfectly even handwriting that looks like a font, a million words per minute

everyone asks him for his notes after the zoom because they’re so neat (especially naruto, to neji’s dismay)

he gets excellent grades since he’s so organized and focused

just wishes the zoom would be over so he can work alone in peace

really hates unmuting so he often gives one-word answers in the chat

“Yes” “47” “Present” “Goodbye”

has used a zoom reaction ONCE in his life and he has never wanted to crawl into a hole and perish more

it was a complete accident,, mans was just trying to open the chat to type in his answer, but in a cruel twist of fate he clicked on the 😂 reaction

and he just sat there for ten excruciating seconds in complete and utter shock and shame for ten excruciating seconds as he prayed for it to disappear

tenten would never let him live that down

ROCK LEE

Zoom Reaction Enthusiast

😂😮👍🎉❤️ 24/7

naruto accidentally unmutes himself? 😮

choji falls asleep on his keyboard? 😂

neji answers something correctly? 👍

tenten received the highest score in class? 🎉

akamaru appears on screen? ❤️

unmutes whenever he needs to, but he thinks the little emoticons are so silly and cute

otherwise, he is EXTRA FOCUSED and EXTREMELY DETERMINED to learn all of the things

he’s the first to unmute whenever the teacher asks if the class can see the screen share, hear them correctly, etc.

never takes his eyes off the screen!! he could be missing out on important information

I FEEL LIKE,, i feel like he would totally keep his camera off when he’s muted but whenever he unmutes he would also turn his camera on

so when he says a quick “yes!” his camera turns on but before his camera can adjust properly to the light he mutes and turns his camera back off so his face is just super dark for a split second LMAOOO

tell me im wrong

TENTEN

exasperated by this entire class

thinks her and neji are the only sane ones in the class and it’s true

wants to tell sakura and ino to stop competing and just focus on learning, since they’re the only other girls in the class besides hinata

plus she’s just fed up with all the lazy boys

takes great pride in passing every assignment, test, or exam with flying colors

teachers pet, but the quieter type who stays after every zoom and sends lots of emails regarding assignments and grades and whatnot (unlike sakura and ino who rub it in the teacher’s face)

doesn’t like helping other people besides neji, girl’s got a soft spot for him since they have a mutual respect for each other

but if you’re a handsome prince, maybe she’ll help you out!

if you enjoyed this post, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) feel free to request here, and make sure to read the rules first! have a lovely day everyone <3

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batwhimpix · 3 years

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An Interview with Former Takarazuka Top Star Asumi Rio: The Laidback Personality Behind the Handsome Face

(Translated by me 8/19/2021)

While still a member of the Takarazuka Revue, Asumi Rio was known for her sensitive acting which digs deep into the heart of each role, her crystal-clear vocals, and her captivating stage presence. As the top star of Flower Troupe, she gained an immense level of popularity. Now, it has been one year since her retirement from the company. She has expanded her repertoire from stage to screen, and continues to showcase new sides to her talent. In her first name-bearing variety program, the Hulu Original "Asumi Rio's Atelier," Asumi-san learns new tips and techniques to "step up" both her lifestyle and her design sense. Totally different from her intense onstage aura, this program offers a chance to get to know Asumi-san's soft and relaxed offstage persona.

It's been a year and a half since you left the Takarazuka Revue. How would you describe that period of time for you, Asumi-san?

When I was in the Revue, because I had managed to enter the world of Takarazuka, which was my absolute favorite place, I felt strongly that I didn't want to have any regrets. So I was very motivated to work as hard as I could to polish my craft. I was completely lost in it, but within that, I always had my fans cheering me on, and the guidance of so many around me. In the last year and a half, I've realized all over again just how precious a thing that was.

Until I left, my only experience was on the stage, so stepping into the world on screen for the first time, a lot of totally new forms of expression were expected from me, and I felt a lot of anxiety. Parting from Takarazuka and living as just one individual human, every day is full of challenges. But that said, every day now is also rich with new experiences and new possibilities, so I've come to face that with a lot of gratitude.

While you were in Takarazuka, there was a very clear image, that of a perfect "otokoyaku," to aspire to. Now that you don't have that anymore, what kind of actress are you aiming to become?

There are a lot of qualities I have now precisely because I was an otokoyaku, and I think it's probably okay for me to just embrace that. As top [abbrev. "top star", the starring otokoyaku actress in each troupe], I was in a position where I had to lead the troupe, watch over and guide all the other actresses, and shape each production as the lead actress. I think I've picked up a lot of grit through that experience, and even as a woman, I think having a bit of a masculine edge in your lifestyle and how you deal with things can be a positive, right?

Even when I was playing otokoyaku roles, moreso than aiming for a particular ideal, I came at each role separately, like, this time I'm playing this kind of man, next time I'm playing this kind of man. It was like a gradual broadening of my horizons. Now I'm simply adding female roles to that roster, so it's kind of like the scope of roles available to me has doubled. When it comes to my outward appearance, as my hair grows out and I transition toward a more feminine look, I've been having all kinds of new discoveries, like, "Oh, this kind of styling makes me feel like this." Within my drama roles as well, I like those discoveries like, if I do it like this, won't it be interesting, or if I do this, I can get viewers to say, "Oh!" I want to keep digging to find those little moments where I can really surprise people within each role.

Since your retirement from Takarazuka, what overall on-set experience sticks out the most in your memory?

I think that has to be the first show I had the opportunity to take part in, "Ochoyan" [NHK serialized telenovella]. Until I was on that set, I always thought that the stage was the most incredible place in the world. I would never find anywhere else where every member is so unified in their vision, where everyone has so much pride in their troupe and so much love for the production they're building together, as in Takarazuka. Even now, I still think Takarazuka is a very special place, and my love for it hasn't changed.

But on the set of "Ochoyan," like Takarazuka, there were so many staff working to create this thing, who truly loved the work and brought all kinds of skills to the table to bring it to life. Among the cast as well, the atmosphere during recording, where all of us in the Tsurugame Family Theater [the name of the theater company employing main character Takei Chiyo as well as Asumi-san's character Takamine Ruriko] really did feel like a family, wasn't that different from Takarazuka at all. On the contrary, because our time together was limited just to the recording of this show, it felt like everyone valued that time all the more. Being on a set like that was a huge experience for me.

In Takarazuka, you had a very hectic schedule. As soon as one production closed you were already thinking about the next. I'm sure your lifestyle has changed in a big way since then. What kind of feelings do you have about that?

I retired and moved here to Tokyo right around the start of the pandemic. During the lockdown, when I was in my house all day, I realized how long the day really is. Suddenly it was up to me to decide how to spend all this time in the day. I could use it to rest or, if I had some area I was struggling with, I could use it for training too. I had a renewed realization that depending on my own feelings, I could choose to change myself in any number of ways.

These days, how do you find yourself spending the majority of your time?

These days, I'm doing a lot of types of work I'm totally new to, and working on sets with people I've only just met, so I'm still in a place where I spend a lot of time nervous. When I'm on a set I haven't gotten used to yet, my antenna is going in all different directions, so after I get home I try to relax as much as possible. In order to fully refresh myself and go into work the next day in high spirits and ready to face whatever comes, I've been making a conscious effort to be kind to myself.

What activities allow you to refresh your batteries the most?

Zoning out, and eating delicious food.

On "Asumi Rio's Atelier," you gave steaming rice in a donabe [TN: earthenware pot traditionally used to steam rice, supposedly more delicious than steaming in a rice cooker] a try for the first time, but what kinds of things do you eat most often?

As long as it tastes good, I'll happily eat anything. I like vegetables, meat, fish, and I love carbs, too. Ideally, I want to eat a good balance of a lot of different things.

Speaking of that program, how were the topics for each episode decided? Were you able to make requests?

For "Atelier" we had the general framework that I would be trying different activities I was interested in from the onset, so basically they asked me, "What kind of things are you interested in? What do you want to try?" And then...Yeah, first I had about 30, then we added about 30 more, so in total about 60, ideas that we pitched. The program staff wanted to include as many of my requests as they could, so actually, within each episode there are probably three or four different ones. In addition to that, there's an interview in each episode that relates back to that episode's theme. I enjoyed the chance to reflect on my Takarazuka era and memories from my childhood.

On the topic of your Takarazuka era, in your first interview for us, you said, "I wasn't necessarily aiming to become top star." But within the system of Takarazuka, to climb all the way to top star, you must have been aware of something within yourself that made you want to aim higher?

Let's see...Ever since I was an underclassman, I had a strong drive to improve as an otokoyaku. I wanted people to find my performance interesting, and I wanted to be seen as a necessary part of the production. I wanted to act a lot, and I wanted to sing a lot of songs that I love. I wanted to bathe in the spotlight, and I was happy when I got to wear more gorgeous costumes. If I really think back on those feelings now, first in the shinjinkouen junior performances featuring only actresses who have been with the company seven years or less, and then in performances at the smaller Bow Hall theater next to the Takarazuka Grand Theater, inevitably I started aiming for the lead roles that would allow me to stand on stage for the longest every time.

Somewhere along that road, when I was told I was being transferred from the troupe I was first inducted into, Moon Troupe, to Flower Troupe, this feeling that I had wanted to be the Moon Troupe's successor welled to the surface. And since that's the same as saying, "I wanted to be the top star of Moon Troupe," that was the first time I became aware of that goal. Every troupe in Takarazuka has its own character, though, so after my transfer, I was desperate to hurry up and become an otokoyaku befitting Flower Troupe first...

So as you worked to further your artistic development, there at the zenith was top star.

If you were to ask my underclassman self, the Top-sans are unbelievably incredible performers, and the more shinjinkouens you experience, the more closely you come to understanding just how incredible they are. Then as you spend more years with the company and find yourself in a position where you're working directly under the Top-san, you realize how much work they're really doing, and...The more you know, the more you lose the ability to say something like "I want to be the top star" carelessly.

And yet, you bore the heavy responsibility of a top star for five-and-a-half years. It's hard to imagine from your usual laidback attitude, but when it comes to your art, you're incredibly diligent and strong-willed. That gap is captivating.

When it comes to theater, I'm very picky. I mean, I'm way too stubborn for one thing. Especially in productions where I'm playing the lead role, I always have really strong feelings about how I want to perform things, and I'm not in a position where I can hesitate to convey that. It's important to listen to the opinions of various other people too, but when it comes down to it, if I have a clear idea of the direction I want things to proceed and direct things with that in mind, it makes things easier for everyone else, so I always tried to communicate my thoughts clearly and directly. If I'm delivering consistently good work, there's a persuasive power to that. Not only do the underclassmen naturally follow along, but the staff listen and respond to my requests as well.

But when you're making this kind of production, you do have to be pretty strict. But then, the real me is more of a people pleaser. I want everyone to like me, or more like, I don't want to be disliked. I didn't want the younger underclassmen to feel like I was unapproachable or like they couldn't talk to me because I was the top star. I wanted them to think of me like family. So outside matters relating to work, I tried to give off as relaxed a vibe as possible. Definitely, I think there was quite a gap between "on" and "off" for me.

Are there a lot of differences between "Asumi Rio the otokoyaku" and "Asumi Rio the actress?" How about between your stage name persona and your private self under your birth name?

I've lived under my stage name for so much longer than my birth name that I feel like, at this point, the parts of myself that belong to my real name are few and far between. I do have the feeling that, in some respect, I've grown up together with my stage name. In essence, while I was in Takarazuka, I didn't worry too much about creating a separate persona. Thanks to the kindness of my fans and the environment I was in, I felt like I could leave my otokoyaku persona on the stage and stay pretty close to my natural self everywhere else. I guess the only thing is, when I'm alone in my house, I revert to goblin mode. (laughs wryly) Like I'll have trouble getting myself to go take a bath, or I really should clean but my back hurts, etc., etc.

By contrast, now that I've graduated from being an otokoyaku, a lot of the things I'm doing as an actress are total firsts for me, so I think I feel more discomfort with my presentation now than I did then. There are times when I get really nervous, and then I get disappointed in myself for feeling that way. Like, until just a little while ago, I was in a position where I was responsible for keeping everyone's morale up. I would get up on that stage like, "It's alright, just leave it to me," so what am I all anxious for now? I often think about how much I still have to learn, and how badly I want to hurry up and learn it so I can show the results of my efforts.

Is there a particular ideal you're currently pursuing? What kind of actress do you want to become, and what kind of woman?

Since leaving Takarazuka, I've had a lot more opportunity to meet all kinds of new people. On every set I've been on, each of the actresses I meet has their own unique aura, and seeing their acting up close, I'm blown away by each of them. Among the staff as well, there are so many different kinds of professionals of all ages, and I often find myself inspired by their work ethic and lifestyle. I'd like to continue to enrich my life by learning from the amazing people I meet and experiencing many new things, and work to become a more fully rounded human being.

*Bracketed notes not marked "TN" (Translator's Note) were present in the original article.

#mirio #asumi rio #takarazuka og #takarazuka #this interview is super detailed so i've been wanting to translate it for a while #she's such a stubborn person but i kind of admire that about her??#must have been hell to work with at times tho #but such a calming presence offstage lol #hanagumi #tkz #og #mytranslations

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warmau · 4 years

Text

slytherin!au san

*this post was commissioned | find other ateez aus here warnings: suggestive themes (no strings attached situation), hp themed au but we ignore jkrowling <3

something crawls across your desk

round and dark and you don’t have to look twice to know what it is

part of you wants to turn and look over your shoulder where you are painfully aware of the fact that san is eyeing you up

he’s always sat at the back of potions - while you sat diligently in the front and part of you suspects its a strategical ploy on his end

actually, you don’t expect, he has told you many times before that the view is just better from back there

it’s sleazy and you should scoff at the attempt of bad flirtation

but it’s hard for you to hate it as much as maybe the rest of your gryffindor housemates might

because

you like san

but

you aren’t about to let anyone in school know

so instead of looking behind you, you take your wand and flick the spider off the corner of your desk

it falls - disappearing in a little cloud of smoke midair

san’s always said he prefers them to snakes, he knows his whole houses deal with snakes slithers back to the ancestral wizards and bloodlines - but arachnids are so much cooler in his opinion

you don’t like bugs or snakes or anything that likes the cover of darkness

the only exception funny enough is ...... well......... san

“so did you get a date to the deathday party?”

you break from thought and turn to your friend

“huh - we don’t need a date for deathday parties. it’s just halloween basically.”

“but it’s so much more fun to have someone to cuddle up to while the ghosts do all their prancing around....like what if you get scared and your boyfriend just........”

she clasps her hands around herself

“holds you~”

you roll your eyes and close your textbook

you pull your worksheet out and get up to place it on the professors desk

they smile and wave their hand to let you know you’re free to go, you say bye to your friend who grumbles in response that you’re abandoning them

and as you walk down the rows of students - you reach the back of the room

you don’t pause when you reach out for the door, but you feel the same gaze that's been burning through you since san transferred here last year

you thought you’d be disgusted with it by now

but you’ve come to enjoy the slight, hot sting

“so, about that deathday party?”

you groan

you don’t want to talk about stupid trivial school events right now

with sans lips against your neck and your back against the cool walls of the greenery

instead of an answer you just tilt his head back up, gripping under his jaw and letting your mouth find his in an attempt to kiss him, of course, but to stop him from asking anymore questions

san kind of gets your point and his hands slip from under your robes lower

until they’re pressing into the skin of your hip and then

his teeth sink into your lower lip and you pull back

“hey - i said don’t do tha-”

“do you want to go to the deathday party with me?”

you give him a blank stare

you hope he gets the point of it too, but with the way he hasn’t gone back to touching you, it’s clear he’s waiting for an actual verbal response

“you know we can’t just show up to a party together.”

“why not?”

his hands leave your skin and your uniform falls back into place, he moves a little but still remains standing between your knees

the sudden retreat of full contact makes you upset and you hook your foot around his to tug him forward

instead of tipping over and into you, he puts a hand flat on your thigh

“seriously, why not? are you scared that people will be mad about it.”

“no - you know that isn’t the reason.”

“then what is?”

you sit up and want to tell him the real answer

the one that has been bubbling in the back of your mind these past couple of weeks

it had really just been for fun, a thrilling and almost wholly self-serving reason

when you let san, a slytherin who was barely managing to pass half his classes, and notoriously known for being quite uninterested in studies, magical morality, or any of the things you held so near and dear to your heart

corner you in the history section of the library

the books ruffling their pages on their own to hide the sound that came out of your mouth when he’d bit down into your skin for the first time

really you had just wanted to do something reckless

because you were well on your way to being perfectly clean cut in every other manner

but now - if you were to be completely truthful with him - you couldn’t just say

“the reason is because im just using you. you mean nothing to me.”

because through all the sneaking around in tight corners

using disappearing spells to hide from teaches and classmates

finding yourselves alone in that room of his

far down the twisting halls of the slytherin dungeon

you had fallen for all the charms of a person you had told yourself you should loathe

but san’s embarrassingly bad flirting, desperate manner of scratching to be as close as possible to you, loud and attention hungry attitude

had spun tight around you

because he was all those things, but through it all - through the bedroom eyes and lips on your thighs

he was one of the most gentle people who had ever laid hands on you

sure, you two could get caught up in a firestorm of young energy that would lead to both of you parting ways with evidence under the layers of your clothes that you’d admire in the mirror of your bathroom for days after

but that’s not what you meant when you described him as gentle

it was his soul, that was at the core, tender

little pretty whispers about your neck, your wrist, your eyes

sometimes when you were just talking there was the righteousness that people said he lacked laced through each, carefully chosen word

he could seem like a wreck of a person to everyone, even his own friends

but you’d somehow managed to catch the moments

of him that were most vulnerable

soft gaze that waits with manner to know if you are comfortable and safe with him, poetic words about the shadows of your bodies, there was even a mark of true faithfulness

when you two had almost gotten caught by a angry upperclassman

and san had let you escape before turning himself in and being slapped loud and hard and echoing

“who was with you?”

the angry voice had barked and san had stood with his hands clasped in each other, knuckles white

“no one. i was alone.”

so now when he asks you what the reason is that you don’t just want to let the world know

why you don’t want to make a statement

that this fling isn’t just that shallow pleasure seeking adventure you had intended it to start as and end as

but that it’s two people - that really fit each other like puzzle pieces

you can only think of the real answer

which is

“im scared. im scared that you don’t mean it as much as i do.”

you don’t mutter those words, you just keep quiet again instead and san finally slips completely away from you

he grabs his robe, hands curling around the green collar

“saying nothing is enough of an answer.”

you slide off the table and try to stop him

but your hand doesn’t leave your side and your knees are weak

and you’re worried that too much noise will make someone curious come looking

so you just watch him weave through the plants, until he’s gone.

he’s really gone.

the days seem to start going backwards ..... even though the dates get closer and closer to the end of the month

maybe its you that starts to function on some kind of made up timeline? because everywhere and everyone you look

is somehow san

the couples sitting in the courtyard sharing food, notes, kisses - they’re you and san

the solitary roaming owls circling the sky with letters in tow - all the letters you imagine rain down

and when you pick one up it says his name, written with the pen strokes that you’ve seen flipping through his textbooks

even the spells that leave your lips while you practice just turn to chants of his name

but he doesn’t .... come back like you wait for. he’s not in the classes you share. he’s not waiting in the secret corners you’ve both chosen.

he’s nowhere and yet everywhere for you.

the night of the deathday celebration - the entire school is buzzing

not only are the ghosts all out to chatter and reminisce about their time as the living

but the students are rushing up and down between the houses in costumes and masks

you shove your face into your pillow and snap your fingers, commanding the door to your room to shut

only to be knocked on a moment later

you shout your roommates name, telling them to get it

you’re in no mood to celebrate. you just want to fall deeper and deeper into your bed until you’ve completely disappeared from view

you hear the scurrying of footsteps, laughter, and conversation and then suddenly a hand grabs your shoulder and flips you over

“get up! we’re going to the party!”

your roommate gleams with a grin and you politely, but harshly refuse

“but your date will be so sad if you don’t show up!”

you spring up at the word date. a part of your stomach flips and you think - is there anyway it could be him?

your friend takes your shift in expression as a positive sign, whisking you up and out of bed - putting something that feels like a headband on your head - and pushing you toward the door

you haven’t seen san for a week

even though you feel as if the thought of him has more than tortured you every hour of every day

so even with the chances being slim, you feel your shoulders tense and a nervousness seep in through your veins

did he really come all the way to the gryffindor tower? is he finally coming back? did he tell my friends he-

but you look up when you get to the hall and instead of san you see

kim hongjoong

he’s standing beside mingi, who is twirling your roommate around and giggling in unison with them

“i-”

you start and hongjoong extends his hand

“your friend said you wanted to ask me to the party, but didn’t have the time. but ill gladly take you if you’d like.”

you stare at his palm

then back at him and the pretty prince’s costume he has on

he’s actually exactly what you should want

he’s in the top ten students of the ravenclaw house, he took OWLs early, he has been interning at the ministry of magic since he was a fourth year

he’s clean cut, gentlemanly, quiet spoken, and just - perfect

like you

but your stomach flips again, in a bad way, in a way that’s telling you

no you don’t want to go to this party with him, but to refuse him to his face is somehow even worse than just giving in

so you put your hand in his with a fabricated smile, that somehow is enough to convince everyone else.

until you hear mingi let out a sound of surprise, you turn and look at him - fully expecting him to read through your fake happiness

but instead he points the floor

“spider!”

you turn and see the spider

“sa-”

hongjoong crushes it with his shoe - hand still holding yours

“got it, should we head to the party?”

so you end up in a familiar place with an unfamiliar persons hands on your waist

dancing in the low light of the slytherin dungeons dorm

which has been transformed with pumpkin lighting and live music where every time the beat drops a bolt of electricity sparks from every corner

the ghosts, always fond of the cold and the dark, had chosen this as the venue for the deathday party

and although the headmaster and professors were looking grim about the prospect of the dorms being absolutely trashed

everyone else was having a blast

drinking spiked candy corn punch and pressing closer than mandated by the rules

prefects were running around casting spells to push people from each other, but they were just snapping back into each other like magnets

and in the shadows and heat of everyone else you can’t help but think about san again

you are looking at hongjoong, you are trying to focus on something he is saying about the music

but the wires of your mind are tangling and twisting and turning his hands on your waist into sans and his eyes into sans and his lips into sans-

it takes you a moment because you’re so dazed

to realize the lips you’re dreaming about aren’t kissing you, but hongjoong is

you pull back in horror and he mumbles an apology - but you turn, sensing something daunting

when you see - against the wall - staring right at you is the gaze that’s been on you for so long that you can never mistake it for another

“san!”

you gasp, and your hands drop from hongjoong’s shoulders, fast enough to watch san turn and disappear through the doors

“san?”

hongjoong repeats

“the slytherin? why are you-”

you rush toward him, pushing past the bodies that all seem to meld into one and other

the electricity zaps just as the door closes and it makes you jump and when you push it back open

the sound and the crowd shrinks

and you are looking down a dark, cold hall

you take your wand out and spark a small light from the tip - “san?” you call his name

legs shaking, voice a small tremble

there’s no answer

you keep going - subjecting yourself to the deeper parts of the dungeon until you think you’ve walked almost the entire hall and in front of you is a wall

something crawls up the side of your leg and you freeze

“san?”

you breathe again - but there’s no response and the feeling keeps coming up your skin, up your clothes, up and onto your neck and then

just as you think you can feel it begin to crawl up to your lips

it disappears and you turn because something like a flame starts to bloom from the center of your back

and when you do

it’s san

a spider crawls across his cheek, disappearing into smoke on him too

you don’t want to settle your breathing yet

you feel like you’ve been bounded to the spot you’re standing in

“you could have just told me there was someone else.”

“there isn’t.”

“i saw it - you can’t just -”

he starts, voice dropping until you think there’s only one thing you can say that would prove to him that it’s him

“i want to be with you.”

his eyes, long and overcasted with pain, widen

“being without you is like being without myself”

you stumble over the words - unfamiliar with this feeling of anxiety that has never grasped you so fully

“it’s stupid to be scared of you leaving me, but i am more terrified that i won’t have you at all to begin with.”

he is searing through you with the gaze

but the flame that used to burn hot with desire is now a cool, blue fire

that is scoping you out, weighing your words in his mind

until he presses his lips to yours and you lean back against the wall to let your hands find his neck

“i won’t leave you.”

he breathes into your skin

his scent floating around you and comforting you in the dark as you drop your wand and the only light you two had is gone

“you might even get sick of me and ask me too, but i won’t because i love you.”

you want to laugh at that

not because it is funny but because he must be insane

to think you’d ever get sick of him

even a week without him has left you suffering in withdrawl, for the first time it’s you who san can’t keep up with

as you kiss him back harder and lick into the roof of his mouth and pull your hands under his shirt

and he has to nearly stop you from undressing him there - because you just want to devour this moment over and over

until the taste of him is ingrained in your memory and you can recall what its like to have his pulse against your tongue even if a million miles separate you

san returns the sentiment, his hands itch too to find the places he adores most but even still

the entire school is a hallway away, so is the headmaster

so he lets you kiss him again, mark the side of his jawline and get your hands down to his belt before he mutters that he knows a shortcut to his room from here

you and san don’t return to the party

but the house ghosts saw you

and in the morning when san is walking down the gryffindor hall from your dorm

everyone knows very damn well why he’s there

the shock the questions the side eyes are all what you expected

but they don’t compare to the comfort that comes with having him beside you again

sitting with him at the top of the tower, legs swinging over the side, his smile in your neck

“i think its kinda cool that our anniversary is on halloween”

he comments one day as you’re sitting in his lap in slytherin commons

you turn to look at him

“wait, did you have a costume for the deathday part - what was it? i didn’t see.”

“oh you didn’t notice?”

you shake your head and san plays with your fingers before grinning up at you - long cheshire smile

“i was dressed as your boyfriend. fitting huh?”

you lean forward and he puckers his lips in anticipation, but then yelps when you flick his forehead

“i think you might have been right about that getting sick of you predication.”

#ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez au #san scenarios #san imagines #san au #ateez #suggestive themes #members: ateez #choi san imagines #choi san au #writing commissions #hp!au

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writeofmind · 4 years

Text

temptations

genre: smuttyyy

pairing: schoolgirl!rosé x reader

warning: teasing, dirty talk

anon: imagine having rosie whine for u to touch her during school so you pin her against the wall in the washroom and give her a quickie and she’s out of breath and WITHERING under you while begging for more but your teacher is gonna get suspicious and while you’re in class I see her CLENCHING HER thighs in those knee high socks and short skirt FUCKKKKK. OMG. PLEASE MAKE THAT AN IMAGINE, I’m begging authornim

A/N: i was SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS. the request isn’t targeted towards a specific schoolgirl au but after her teaser and the convos i was having with anons...... DAMN. and thanks to pen, i will write multiple parts to this (a couple, at most. so if you don’t see what you were hoping for this time... you’re in for a surprise.) i hope this lives up to the hype we gave it!!

desire | temptations | office hours

The concept of hell was a rather interesting idea to you.

Just from sitting in class and hearing about it, it was always a discussion regarding how terrible it was. It is horrible, it is gruesome, your teachers would say. It’s full of blasphemers, sinners, and infidels. You should live your life purely, without sin, to avoid that wretched place.

At least, that’s what you were told.

You always wondered, though you probably shouldn’t, what was it like? Was it a fiery pit where you were cursed to stay forever, was it an endless plane of nothingness where you’re forced to live with your own sinful thoughts?

Whatever it was, you were sure that you would end up there.

You were sure you would end up there— no— that you would be dragged there, because of the way a simple pair of lustful eyes and an open mouth cleaned you of all your moral beliefs. You always found your mind wandering back to them, no matter how much you tried to get rid of the thoughts. Even now, as you sat in class and listened to the ramblings of your teacher, watching the students around you fiddle with their pencils and diligently taking notes, you were thinking about them.

You shouldn’t have given in, you really shouldn’t, but you glanced across the classroom as your teacher swatted a ruler against the chalkboard, and there they were.

The same lustful eyes that you always found fixated on you.

You bit your lip as you scanned the culprit up and down. Innocent little Rosé was already licking her lips when she noticed you looking her way, always loving when your attention was on nothing but her. She sent you a flirty wink and a pucker of her perfect, pink lips, the same ones you remember your name spilling from just days ago.

Just then, you could feel the sinking feeling in your stomach. The effect that this girl had on you was unreal.

No, no, you turned your head back to the front of the classroom, don’t fall for it. Not now.

It only took a couple minutes for your phone (the one you hid from the school, of course) to vibrate in your bag.

You cleared your throat to cover the noise, earning a stern look from your teacher. You simply smiled in apology and acted as if nothing happened before you slyly leaned over to reach into your bag.

Your legs went weak at the message.

rosie: im craving your touch, baby.

rosie: how come you don’t look at me?

Your eyes instinctively darted back over to her. It felt like your heart had suddenly jumped to your throat to choke you.

She shifted in her seat, making sure to face you at such an angle that she could easily play off whenever the teacher turned around. Knowing that your attention was once again back to her, Rosé grinned. Her legs were crossed, being so beautifully squeezed by her thigh high socks, and you noticed her foot playing at her calf. She brought her hand up to her chest, and that’s when you couldn’t breathe.

You were hypnotized by the way she gently caressed down her neck, her dainty fingers tracing the beautiful line of her collarbones before she stopped at the buttons of her blouse.

You watched her fingertips work their magic. Her buttons popped from its plackets, slowly revealing bits of her skin inch by inch. You couldn’t help but follow the view with your eyes, going lower, lower, until you saw the thin outline of a red bra.

It became too much when she blatantly knocked her pencil off of her desk only to lean forward in your direction. Your eyes blew wide. Her breasts were on perfect display, easily showcased right in front of you, her cleavage leading you to wonder what it would be like to have them in your hands once again.

When she met your eyes with a flirty grin, knowing that you were enjoying the perfect view she was giving you, you were sure that your ears were burning at the tip. You turned away and tried to hide the blush on your face as best as you could.

“Yes, Rosé?”

You looked up and saw the teacher turned around, with Rosé raising her hand.

“Sorry, teacher, I forgot that I have to stop by the student council room before next class, is it okay if I go right now?”

You froze. You already knew what she was doing.

No teacher ever said no to miss Roseanne. She had practically every authority figure in the palm of her hands with her sweet, innocent eyes that she would bat when she asked for something. That, along with the fact that little miss playful was the headmaster’s daughter.

Such a perfect angel for the public, but such a naughty devil for you.

“Oh, of course. I’ll write you a pass in a moment.”

You didn’t miss the sly bite of her lip as she leaned onto her desk.

“Would it also be okay if I brought someone along to help me? I may need to bring things to the other class.”

Aw, shit. You turned your head to face the window and tried to keep your leg from bouncing in anticipation. You didn’t mean to seem excited in any way, but your nerves were telling you otherwise.

You weren’t even sure how Rosé managed to trap you. Though, truthfully, you knew how she did. She was so innocent and inviting, so sweet, but she was a vixen. You always wondered if she was the human embodiment of temptation itself when you lay alone in bed, staring at your dark ceiling with your hand trailing down your stomach.

“Y/n.”

You blinked out of your thoughts only to make direct eye contact with your teacher. They furrowed their brows at you.

“If you could please accompany Miss Park. Grab your passes. As for the rest of you...” The teachers voice trailed off, and soon, all you saw was Rosé in front of you with her hand intertwined with yours, leading you down the hallway.

You gulped.

“Rosé— I thought we agreed it was a one time thing.”

She looked back at you and tilted her head. A sly smile crossed her face. “You thought it would only be a one time thing when you fucked me like that?” Her grin Rosé’s face grew wider when she grabbed and pulled you in by your collar.

Her lips crashed against yours in the middle of the hallway, and you nearly fell over from the way she pounced on you.

Your anxiousness spiked at the thought of being caught. Classes were still in session, and someone could be walking the halls and suddenly see two girls kissing. In a religious academy. And one being the headmaster’s daughter, no less.

Rosé didn’t care at all, and for some reason, you couldn’t pull away. You fell into the kiss and let her ravage your lips, your hands soon finding her hips and squeezing them to pull her close to you. She let out a breathy moan and when she looked at you through her eyelashes, you knew you were doomed.

Neither of you even bothered to check if anyone was inside the bathroom before she practically shoved you inside, stumbling together into a stall and you quickly pressing her body against the stall door. It didn’t seem to bother Rosé in the slightest, considering the fact that she was practically tonguing you down in the halls.

She moaned when she felt the force of your arms against her abdomen. Silencing her with a kiss, her hands scratched at the back of your head before gently tugging your head away.

“I love when your eyes are on me,” she gasped when you nipped at her lip. “You always try so hard to avoid me.”

You laughed a bit. “Don’t you think it’s a bit unholy to be teasing me during class? You’re a sinner, Rosie.”

“You’re no better, with the way you give me exactly what I want,” Rosé sighed against your lips when you slid your thigh between hers. She was right.

“Lets make this quick, then,” you grabbed at her blouse and quickly undid the remaining buttons, “you’re so naughty, Rosé.”

Rosé pressed her head back against the stall as you pushed her bra down to attach your lips to her already perky nipple, letting your tongue swirl in all directions until you pulled away and did the same to the other. Rosé was stifling her moans as she began to rock her hips against you.

The feeling between your own legs began to grow hotter and hotter with every sound that came from her mouth. You traced your lips up her chest and latched onto her neck, finding her sweet spot and immediately biting down.

A throaty moan came from the girl beneath you. You instinctively covered her mouth with your hand and looked her into her lidded eyes that only grew darker the more she grinded on you.

“You need to be quiet,” you whispered. Rosé‘s breaths were hot on your palm, but you only smirked when she eagerly nodded.

Without missing a beat, you removed your hand and slid it down her body. You followed with your eyes and licked your lips as you took her in completely— you wondered how she got away with looking so good in a school uniform.

Rosé whined when your hand went to her thigh. The tips of your fingers danced across her thigh highs, and how you loved the way she blushed when you pushed her skirt up. Your eyes immediately landed on the wet spot that tainted her panties.

You licked your lips. Shameless Rosé never stopped moving against you, even as you did so. She still had her arms wrapped around your neck, holding you close to her lips so that you could feel ever shudder, hear every whimper. The slickness of her panties began to run along your own thigh, and you grew impatient the more you felt it.

Wondering just how sensitive poor little Rosie was, you pressed your middle finger along her slit. Just the action alone made her twitch against your leg, and it seemed as if she didn’t appreciate it, not with the way she glared at you.

“Stop teasing me now, y/n,” though she looked annoyed, her voice was shaky, “just fuck me.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. It never failed to surprise you when Rosé was so straightforward and blunt, but you hated looking like a puppy to her. “My, my, Rosie, such a foul mouth,” you shook your head and pushed her panties to the side, “I wonder how many more swears you know?”

You sank your finger into her already dripping cunt, grinning at the way Rosé bit her lip as her eyes rolled back. She moaned through her pursed lips, her arms releasing you to grab at your arms.

“Oh god, fuck me, y/n,” Rosé whined at the same time you began to pump your finger, your thumb playing over her clit. You had hoped that no one would walk inside the bathrooms, lest they wanted to hear the filth that the two of you were currently creating.

Your pace began to gradually pick up when you realized how much time had probably passed. You wanted Rosé to come, and you wanted to see the look on her face when she did.

With every curve of your finger and every swipe of your thumb, Rosé let out soft mewls between her lip and her teeth, to the point where you had to shut her up by kissing her, hard. You pushed your tongue past her lips and melted at the way she moaned into your mouth, her lips parting to let out a shaky moan.

“It’s not enough,” Rosé whined, her hands gripping at your arms as she pushed her head against the wall, “y/n, please...”

Not enough? You shook your head. If there was one thing you learned about Rosé, it was that she always wanted more. She was always begging you for more, and you always gave it to her.

Your second and third finger slid into her with ease. There was no hiding the moan that Rosé let out, and you cursed yourself, but you would be lying if you said that it didn’t spur you on.

There was sure to be a mess afterwards, and you knew that her panties were too far gone by now.

You began to thrust your fingers into her in quick, hard, steady strokes. Being the good girl that she was, Rosé gladly took you in, and rolled her hips along your thigh to meet you halfway.

“Fuck, fuck me daddy,” she whined, her eyes clenched shut as her hands went to play at her own breasts.

Your eyes went wide at the sound of that.

You blinked, almost as if you were trying to snap yourself out of a dream, but as the name repeatedly fell from Rosé’s lips, her cries turning into small begs for attention, you felt your surprise fading away, and let yourself gaze at the sight before you.

The innocent girl that everyone loved getting railed in the school bathroom during class hours, skirt hiked up past her hips with her tits out on display, all for you. You scanned over her facial expressions and marveled at the way her eyebrows furrowed with every moan, how mouth hung open, her precious lips plump and red from all of the biting before. Your eyes scanned down and watched as the cross that she wore around her neck bounced with her. If only everyone knew just how much of a whore she was, just for you.

There was something abut her that just made you crazy.

“Cum now, princess,” you whispered, “you don’t want to be punished, do you?”

“I-if it’s by you... then I don’t care,” Rosé licked her teeth with a small giggle. You couldn’t resist smiling back.

You curled your fingers into Rosé one last time, pulling the orgasm straight from her body. She threw her head back, arching against your body as shivers ripped through her spine, her breathing heavy and moans stifled as she covered her own mouth.

You loved the sounds of Rosé’s moans. You loved hearing everything that spilled from her mouth, you loved how she grabbed you, begged for you, how she comes because of you.

You loved to be the one that was able to see this side of the perfect little church girl, the side that crumbled before your fingers. You knew that you were breaking every rule in the book every time you gave in to her, but you knew that you wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

As Rosé came down from her high, her chest heaving as she regained her composure, she leaned her head on your shoulder and let out another giggle. “You’re the naughty one, y/n. How did you learn to please a woman like this?”

You laughed. “I guess I was born to be damned.”

Rosé eyed you up and down before smiling. Once she detached herself from you, you watched as she slid her panties from her legs. “Why don’t you keep these safe for me?”

“Excuse me?” You raised your eyebrows as she held them out for you, “You’re just going to walk around—”

The vixen shut you up with a kiss. She held your face close, slipping her tongue back into your mouth and moaning when you sucked on it. When she pulled back, her eyes stared straight into yours.

“Don’t worry. No one else sees me the way you do.” She gave you a sly wink.

You watched, stunned, as she fixed her skirt and smoothed her hair out, making sure to fix her bra and button her shirt as well.

You both greeted your teacher as you made it back to class a few minutes before you were to be released. They didn’t seem to suspect anything in the slightest as the two of you sat down, beaming at the sight of the model student.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Rosé, legs neatly crossed and not a hair out of place, smiling at the teacher as she gave them her undivided attention. Her necklace sat perfectly, the cross dangling right in your face, and you couldn’t help but imagine when she’d give you that chance again.

#rosé #blackpink scenarios #gg scenarios #kpop scenarios #rosé x reader #park chaeyoung #blackpink #park rosé #park roseanne #rosé smut #blackpink smut #kpop smut

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piningeddiediaz · 3 years

Note

who in pynch would propose and how? in my head it is ronan the cinnamon roll but hey...

oh DO I HAVE THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS!

ok im gonna be honest with you I have spent a lot of time thinking about this and I havent been able to decide who I think would propose so I have headcanons for both.

I think its ronan who starts thinking about marriage first. it's inevitable, really. he grew up seeing his parents' perfect marriage. he is a good little catholic boy. he grew up surrounded by this loving family and he wants that. he's always wanted that. I love the idea of ronan accidentally dreaming rings reguarly. he has several boxes full of rings he hides in his dream barn because he knows adam never goes in there. his dream proposals happen in lots of different ways. sometimes he dreams about proposing to adam in cabeswater, even though it doesn't exist anymore. sometimes it's lindenmere. sometimes its on a drive under the stars, he slips the ring onto adam's finger and neither of them have to say anything, but adam's smile is answer enough. sometimes it's at the barns, right in the exact place they kissed in the moonlight when he finally realised adam parrish loves him too. he's thought about it extensively and it goes from sappy to romantic to downright cheesy but he will never ever actually say it. he knows adam loves him and they're it for each other, but he also knows adam thinks marriage is an outdated institution. and its fine if adam doesnt want to get married - he doesnt need a piece of paper to tell him if he's allowed to be with the love of his life forever - but damn if he wants to see a ring on adam's finger. he's wanted to marry adam from the second they kissed for the first time.

(if ronan is the one who proposes I imagine to be all fake bravado. adam finds the rings and ronan tries to glower his way out of it but then adam grins and is like "well. are they for me?" and ronan says "no, they're for my other boyfriend I've been dating behind your back" but adam just laughs and slips the ring onto his finger and says something practical like "we'll have to wait until I've finished this year, though" or "dibs on not being the one to tell gansey." ronan never actually proposes. adam never technically says yes. but they don't need words to tell each other things. they've been able to communicate with a look for as long as they've known each other.)

but I do have a soft spot for adam being the one who proposes first. adam has no reason to trust the institution of marriage. he is practical, he knows he doesnt need a seal from the law or approval from god to know he is going to spend the rest of his life with ronan. but also - he hasn't ever had the kind of family ronan has had, but boy does he want it. he wants it all with ronan. and more than anything else, marriage is a choice and adam wants to choose ronan. so adam decides to propose, and as with everything he massively overthinks it. he plans it to the last possible second. I imagine he does it sometime when he's home from break. he takes ronan to a small clearing in lindenmere where they eat a picnic adam diligently tried to pack (adam is a not a good cook you can pry this out of my cold, dead hands). afterwards, they watch a bunch of dream deers or butterflies or whatever (which look a lot like the dream animals they saw during their second kiss) while adam has his head on ronan's lap, ronan playing with his hair. he was going to propose a bit later, when he casually suggests they go for a walk through the forest and takes them to a place that almost looks like cabeswater, except ronan blurts out "marry me, parrish" first and adam whips up and is like "what the fuck, ronan???" ronan, like any reasonable person, thinks this is a rejection and fucks off somewhere and starts deflecting (as he does) and adam has to go FUCK THE PLAN and just shove the ring onto ronan's finger and say "fucking marry me, lynch" while ronan is still ranting about god knows what. would it really be pynch if any of their best moments happened in a normal way? their first date was framing their latin teacher for murder, after all.

#as you can see i have thought about this in a lot of detail #this is just ONE of my headcanons i have lots more #i have given pynch every one of my dream proposals #thanks for sending this anon i SQUEALED when I saw it and had so much fun writing it down!!#asks #anon #pynch #pynch headcanon #adam parrish #ronan lynch #trc #tdt

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qqueenofhades · 3 years

Note

pel!ivan and fedyor went through a lot of ups and some downs from the end of pel and 2021 but they also celebrated 10 years together 🥳 i hope fedyor shoved cake into ivan’s face and also you know, im sure they were mushy like the saps they are

Ivan was supposed to be out of here ten minutes ago – actually, at this point, more like twenty – but the clients are still fucking talking, and if they keep it up much longer, he’s going to add it to the bill for “initial consultation.” Drew has a man-bun and unbearably hip black glasses, and works as a developer for some start-up app that he’s tried to convince Ivan to download at least twelve times. (What does the app actually do? Don’t know don’t care.) Mia is thin, blonde, waifish, smells like essential oils, and has been flitting around with her smartphone the entire time, getting in Ivan’s way as she snaps perfectly filtered pictures of the “developmental process” and posts them nonstop on Instagram. They both have a lot of opinions on how they want the energy of the space to feel, and a preapproved list of ethically sourced suppliers. They have paid some ludicrous price for this converted loft in Prospect Heights and chose the location for its proximity to the best farmer’s markets and hippie coffeehouses. Did Ivan die? Is this hell?

Somewhat ostentatiously, he looks at his watch. “Okay,” he announces. “I think that wraps up. You have work number, so – ”

“Oh, just one more thing!” Drew has recently read one (1) book on home design and thinks he’s an expert, so Ivan is forced to suffer his idiotic opinions about the kind of tile they want to use on the kitchen backsplash. Somehow, he manages not to roll his eyes directly out of his head, for which he should be commended. Ivan has discovered that the secret of successfully dealing with people, especially clients, is to smile and nod at everything they say, while mercilessly mocking them in your head. Amazing, the things you learn as a small-business owner in Brooklyn in the year of our lord 2021. Especially when it comes to renovating overpriced tiny gentrified apartments for insufferable techno-douchebags and their vapid influencer girlfriends. And people think Ivan might want to live like this more often? No fucking thank you.

Finally (it’s another ten minutes after that, this is definitely going on the bill), they more or less wrap up, except for the fact that Mia then wants a picture with the three of them. “It’s just so important to us that we’re supporting the immigrant community,” she explains earnestly. “After all, being open, tolerant, learning from our neighbors, people who are different from us, that’s what life is all about. We just love that you’re foreign. The energy feels so right, you know?”

Ivan wonders whether to inform her that he has lived in this country for eight years and been a full citizen (passport and voting rights and everything) for three, then decides that this would venture into sharing-personal-information territory and he is having none of it. His English has improved to the point where he can handle almost all business transactions by himself, but feigning incomprehension can sometimes get him out of them when they turn really stupid. Unfortunately, that isn’t an option here, and so he diligently leans into the frame, smiling half an inch, while Mia snaps a picture of “us and our adorable Russian contractor!!” Ivan informs her of the correct flag emoji to add to the filter, decides that he’s going to add an extra fifty bucks just for that, and finally, finally, makes his escape.

It’s rush hour, and the Q is crammed as Ivan heads into midtown. So much for social distancing and not getting too close to anyone, which is the only thing from the pandemic that he wouldn’t mind keeping. Only about half the crowd is wearing masks, including him, and so he gets off at Times Square, dodges the latest lunatic standing on a soapbox and shouting about how it is all a hoax, and walks several blocks uptown, just to get some space. He finally reaches the restaurant, where he has to flash his vaccination card to get inside (Ivan, who remains Russian to the marrow of his bones, is a little irked that he couldn’t get Sputnik here and had to settle for Pfizer) and climbs up to the open-air rooftop terrace. It is only when he spots his husband, waiting at a table that overlooks the glittering evening lights of the city, when Ivan pulls off his mask and allows himself to properly smile. “Sorry I’m late,” he says. “They are the worst.”

“I figured it was something like that.” Fedyor musters a smile in return, though his eyes look permanently tired these days and Ivan would bet that he’s been scrolling through more depressing emails on his phone. Technically Fedyor is on a two-month sabbatical from work, but he can’t stop himself, and Ivan has had to pry it from his fingers on a number of occasions. “But you’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Ivan nods stoutly, they are furnished with the drinks and appetizers list, and when the waiter asks if there’s any special occasion tonight, tell him that they are celebrating their ten-year anniversary, albeit somewhat late. This was supposed to happen last spring, but obviously, nobody in New York was going out to a restaurant in the early months of 2020, and Ivan himself had barely gotten home from the hospital and still could be knocked over in a strong breeze. They’re celebrating a lot of things tonight, in other words, even if it’s now been eleven years, not ten, since the day Ivan marched into a Red Square coffee shop and engaged in – well, Fedyor has made sure to inform him that the first date didn’t go nearly as well as Ivan always thought it did. But it worked, didn’t it? Here they are, wedding bands on their fingers, a couple of successful American urban professionals who have built a nice life for themselves and are, if anything, even more madly in love than they were when this whole nutty adventure together first began. So really, if you ask Ivan Sakharov Kaminsky, it went just fine after all.

The waiter congratulates them, gives them two drinks for the price of one, and they both relax and start to talk, fully at ease in the way they only are in each other’s company. Ivan does his Mia impression in an extremely convincing falsetto (after all, [NAME REDACTED] has practice at this) and Fedyor almost dies laughing. They hold hands on the table – no need to hold them under the table – and gaze into each other’s eyes all they want, order dinner and dessert, and take a long time about it. They raise several toasts to this, to them, to ten years, may there be many more. Ivan pays the bill, his treat, and they walk slowly back to Times Square, hand-in-hand, Fedyor’s head nestled on Ivan’s shoulder. It’s New York. Nobody cares.

They ride the Q home, in all its smelly, secondhand glory, taking an hour to bang out to Brighton Beach and descending the elevated stairs into the familiar down-at-heel comfort of their Russian-American neighborhood, neon Cyrillic signs glowing in windows and somebody shouting about how if Sergei ever shows his face here again, she is going to cut his dick off. Ivan and Fedyor look at each other and snort, resisting the urge to shout up and ask what exactly Sergei did, and walk a few more minutes to their building. They climb up three flights of stairs to their apartment, unlock the door and the deadbolt, and step inside.

The instant they are home, Rasputin shoots out of nowhere, yowling as if he has been neglected for months, and curls himself around Ivan’s ankles (he is still liable to give Fedyor evil looks when he feels that this interloper has been stealing his human too often). Ivan sighs, trudges to the kitchen, points out to Rasputin that his food bowl is still half full, gets a wounded look in return, and adds an extra scoopful. Once the cat is happily snarfing down, Fedyor pulls Ivan by the hand, into the dim living room with its blowing curtains. “Come here, my love,” he says. “Hold me.”

Ivan does as ordered, because it’s his favorite thing in the world: cuddling Fedyor close, nothing but the two of them in all of time and space, swaying slowly in the blue hour with fingers and arms and hearts entwined. Ivan kisses Fedyor’s temple, and Fedyor nestles even closer, melted into his embrace. “I love you, Vanya,” he mumbles against Ivan’s collarbone. “I love you so much. I love you more than anything in the world. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you too, Fedya.” Ivan leans down and kisses him properly, sweet and slow and lingering, as they continue to waltz in stately time to a music that nobody except the two of them can hear. “I’m still not always sure why you married me, but I am very glad you did.”

#heartrender husbands #fivan #fivan ff #ivan x fedyor #a phantom in enchanting light #pel asks #anonymous #ask #(in repayment for the pain i have inflicted on you with the lighthouse au)#(ahem)

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shelobussy · 3 years

Text

ASH’S TOP 10 TMA FIC RECS

For @damcrows who is Suffering. (I’ll make a second rec list with only fluff fics I promise <3)

immortal with a kiss by yellow_ caballero

In accordance with the Ride or Die Pact of 2009, Jonathan Sims can call upon Georgie Barker at any time for aid with no strings attached. Despite their rocky history, their childhood friendship, and Jon’s barely recovered alcoholism, this pact is sacred and must be upheld.

Georgie Barker may regret this. She may regret it when she discovers that the world is full of monsters and eldritch gods and dickhead managers. She may regret it when a punk rocker who should be dead collapses on their doorstep, a teenager again who needs their help. She may regret it when her stupid ex-boyfriend starts selling his soul for knowledge and the ability to keep his new family safe.

But she probably won’t. Georgie isn’t scared of anything - not a Clown’s apocalypse, not the apocalypse that Jon is destined to begin, and not Jon’s own loss of humanity.

Maybe she should be.

1000/10 the best fanfic in this fandom. It’s got everything: QP Jon/Georgie, Teen!Gerald, Beholding lore, and everyone bullies Jon. (Head trigger warnings)

daisy time travels and jon suffers au by paper_dream

In which Daisy time travels back from the apocalypse, saves Jon from herself, and just kinda forgets he has no idea what's going on.

Daisy timetravels to pre-Buried. Jon suffers.

The Magnus Institute vs the 21st Century: a series of emails and IMs by shinyopals

I'm sure given your position you already know about the advent of the General Data Protection Regulation next year, wrote Peter Lukas, to Elias Bouchard. However, the Lukas family wishes to be crystal clear that our continued investment is contingent upon the Institute taking its responsibilities with regards to privacy and confidentiality seriously.

The Magnus Institute hires a Data Protection Officer. He sets about diligently booking in meetings, writing policy documents, and training all the staff in the importance of confidentiality. Now if only he could get hold of the Head Archivist, who seems to have vanished again...

(Jon is only trying to save the world, but apparently some people think he should still be doing his day job.)

10/10. Fun take on the texting/email trope. Jon pines and destroys laptops. IT suffers.

ceylon, assam, and darjeeling by sciosa

People do not bring Jonathon Sims tea. Martin Blackwood, newly-minted archival assistant, has apparently not received this memo.

It’s about the pining.

ways to save the world by Wildehack

“I left you,” Martin says softly.

Really REALLY good pining, Jon in the Lonely and brief amnesia.

from the highways to the hills, our love has never had a leg to stand on by blackwood (transjon)

She always forgets how observant he is because digging anything meaningful out of him can be a chore. He looks at things. He observes. He catalogues. Georgie is like a library patron trying to check out a book labeled REFERENCE ONLY with a bright red piece of tape wrapped around the spine.

Pre-canon canon compliant character study of Jon/Georgie.

same as it ever was by ajkal2

It’s a nice dress. Classy, if also a little risqué. Set off against dark skin, it looks very good. It would probably work on Jon, actually. He wonders where she got it. Then he remembers he’s at work, and abruptly derails that train of thought.

The women of the Magnus Institute are holding a protest against the sexist dress code of their place of work. Jon is conflicted, and also has a gender for some reason. What's up with that?

THEE they/them fic. Nonbinary Jon? Check. Trans Martin? Check. The Anti-Elias Agenda? Check. Tim in a cocktail dress? Check check check. This fic has everything.

remind me how to smile bytamerofdarkstars

Jon is probably fine, just hiding out somewhere while the whole murder thing blows over and that's... fine. Martin is fine with that explanation. Really. He's got plenty to distract himself - like listening through the entire What the Ghost episode library, for example. Or watching Georgie Barker's Instagram livestreams.

A oneshot during Jon’s stay with Georgie. Tons of fluff.

Milk After Spiders by chewsdaychillin

Warm milk is all he gets.

After that door closes and the world is eerily slammed back to normal, Jon’s legs unfreeze and he stumbles back off the step. Makes the journey home alone and wobbly, no desire left for exploring (it won’t return for a long time).

basically sad jon childhood and adulthood hurt/comfort but the comfort is mad delayed :/

Jon suffers. That’s the fic.

Family, Found by Dribbledscribbles

It’s Basira who catches onto it.

The collective shift that seems to come over them when heading in or out of the Institute. Not just the oppressive sensation of being observed, their every move catalogued for the voyeuristic cravings of some unseen Eye(s). That feeling remained with them even when they left the Institute these days, but it was always stronger inside its walls. That wasn’t the change. Nor was it the point.

The point was: making life worse for Jonathan Sims.

JON SUFFERS. THAT’S THE FIC.

#tma #tma fic recs #tma rec list #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #jon sims #martin blackwood #jmart #jmartin #fanfic #ash recs

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dewykth · 4 years

Text

SWEET SEPTEMBER.

a @periminkle and @dewykth collaboration.

synopsis. for many, september symbolizes new beginnings. but for namjoon, this month never fails to send him back into the past. though this time, something seems different.

pairing. kim namjoon | female reader contains. fluff, angst, slice of life au, ballet instructor!reader, single dad!nj word count. 7.5k+ warnings. death mentions, mature audience

dae’s note. surprise !!! this fic is dedicated to my favourite virgo karla @guklvr !! happy birthday bae i hope you enjoy this lil thing me n vira whipped up for u!! (i stress wrote a lot of this ha.) also sry for lying & keeping you up but hopefully this makes u forgive me. but i hope ur day goes amazing ILYSM DUDE !!! <333 and a huge thank you to vira for hopping on board for this idea bc i cld not have done this without her !!! pls give her all the love !!!

vira’s note. KARLAAAA!!! i always gotta scream ur name it’s mandatory to start with a good scream ykno? bUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL 🥳 i already told u this too many times today but ILYSM !! like that full day without saying a single word to u felt so weird and i kept going into our chat and rereading our mssgs and wishing I was talking to u??? which is weird to admit?? but that literally how much i missed u idk how but im addicted to u so if you leave me I will literally die :))) aNYWAY have the bestestestest day ever and i hope u love the fic bc I ignored all my uni work to finish this !!! (also i feel reallyreallyreally bad about last night sO IM SORRY AGAIN BUT I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT) 💖

Despite the papers carelessly stuffed into his leather briefcase, the dark coffee stain on his black slacks, and his unkempt locks resembling that of a bird’s nest, Namjoon’s become accustomed to the hectic nature of his mornings.

The kitchen table is practically buried under stacks of files, yet he brushes them aside to allow one corner of the glass surface to peek through. He plops the toddler in his arms onto a high chair before racing to the counter and sloppily pouring some honey nut cheerios into a small bowl, handing it off to his daughter.

“Daddy?” her voice squeaks, a patient smile stretching across her lips. Her brown strands are tied up into pigtails at the crown of her head with pink ribbons that flutter with the movement of her tiny head.

“Yes, angel?” He scurries around to their bedroom, peeling the stained fabric off his body and threading one leg through another pair of slacks fresh from the laundry.

With Namjoon’s focus pinned on checking off the mental to-do list in his head, he misses the gentle, reassuring smile that stretches across her rosy lips. The adoration for her father is clear in her gaze. “You forgot to pour the milk.”

At the reminder, he squawks and hops back to the kitchen on one foot as he maneuvers his other leg through the pant hole. Swinging the fridge door open, he grabs the carton and sloppily pours the milk into her bowl—white droplets leaping out with their newfound freedom and forming perfect domes on the glass tabletop.

Cleaning the mess falls to the bottom of his priorities at the moment, and so he speeds off to the bathroom to ensure that his appearance is presentable for work while Dasom reaches over to pluck a tissue from the box, swiping the milky beads away before diving into her breakfast. She shoves as many cheerios into her small mouth as she can, rushing because she refuses to finish her meal in the car with their wild driver behind the wheel.

Despite her mere four years of age, she knows from experience that a bowl of cereal and a shaky vehicle is a recipe for disaster.

Namjoon races over to his briefcase with most of his hair sleeked back, only the locks of his bangs hanging out to frame his forehead. As he slips his dark blazer on to complete his form-fitting suit, Dasom scoops the last few brown rings into her mouth and slurps the remainder of the liquid.

“Did you finish your milk?” he questions while cramming the edges of the loose leaves that peek past the seam of his briefcase, hurriedly zipping it up and turning to face her.

Dasom flips the edge of the bowl up to display its empty contents, gulping the last of her breakfast down her throat. As per routine, she scans her father for any inconsistencies in his attire, landing on his odd fitting bottoms.

“Daddy, your pants are on backwards.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, glancing down to affirm that the pockets at his sides are no longer at the front of his hips. Hastily, he shimmies out of his slacks once more and twists the fabric around to the proper orientation.

Dasom hops off her chair, her bowl and wet kleenex in hand as she waddles over to the sink and waits for him to deposit the dirty dish into the sink and the sullied tissue into the trash. Although her short arms couldn’t reach over the countertop just yet, she’ll diligently drink every last drop of her milk in hopes of growing tall enough to take some of the load off of her father’s back.

He hoists Dasom up at the sight of the red car pulling up to the driveway, squeezing into the back seat. Namjoon doesn’t have to tell the driver to book it, as the calm man in front has learned to keep his foot pressed on the pedal. The car weaves through the morning traffic with concerning speed, snaking through the other vehicles littering the road as if they were no more than stationary pylons, simply there for practice.

Dasom remains on her father’s lap with his arms looped protectively around the seatbelt over her torso. She sinks into his embrace, fiddling around with his long, slender fingers as she watches the blurs of colour speeding past the window.

“Did you put your ballet shoes into your backpack, angel?” Namjoon loosens his grip on her, unhooking one hand to rummage through his own briefcase in order to confirm that he had indeed slid his laptop within the chaos inside. To keep her entertained, he playfully extends his digits out of her reach.

“Of course!” she chirps, a wide grin revealing the gaps between her teeth. The pads of her fingertips brush against his palm and tickle the sensitive skin there when she realizes that her arms lack the length required to latch onto his hand. “I can’t wait for class, we’ve got a new teacher coming in today!”

Humming absentmindedly, he sighs in relief at the sight of the silver device and packs the crumpled papers back in. “What happened to Ms. Kim?”

“She’s teaching the older class now.” The pout on her lips can be heard within the muffled lilt of her voice when she continues, “I asked her to stay until my birthday next week b-but she didn’t.”

Namjoon’s breath hitches at the reminder, but attempts to compose himself for his daughter’s sake. “It’s out of her control, angel, plus she’ll probably swing by anyway.”

His mind starts to fog up with the emotions he thought he buried last year–they swarm his every thought and nibble away at his sanity. He knows better than to believe that they would ever disappear. September will always be an insurmountable month for him.

“I might be a bit late to pick you up later, just sit tight and wait for Daddy, okay?”

She eagerly nods in response, noticing the dull red bricks of her school coming into view. “Okay, bye Daddy!”

Namjoon unlocks the seatbelt, wistfully watching his toddler bounce out of his arms and onto the asphalt below. No matter how many times he drops her off, it’s always difficult to be separated from her bright smile, but he reminds himself that it’s all for her; it makes things a little easier to bear.

“Have a good day at school.” He reciprocates her frantic waving through the window, craning his neck to watch her adorable form become smaller and smaller with the increased distance. Her full cheeks and crinkled eyes are engraved into the back of his mind.

Before long, Namjoon finds himself rushing into his office after an earful from his surly boss about everything from the late hour to the long list of meetings scheduled to all the work he’s got piled up. With his lips pursed and his head bowed, he somehow manages to make it past another lively morning.

Namjoon has a habit of overthinking. He figures it’s normal when you have a stressful job and a four year old full of energy to balance all by yourself. Not that overthinking about his daughter does him any good, because that is far from the reality. If anything, it just makes him, what you’d call, a bit... overprotective (over worrisome if you asked Jin). But it’s something he can’t really help. Even when she had just entered his life, so small and so blissfully unaware of the awful and evil things in the world, all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and shield her from it all as long as he could.

Though he’s very aware of the fact that it won’t be much longer, that won’t stop him from going over every single little thing that could go wrong in the meantime.

So, of course, when Namjoon’s asshole of a boss makes him stay two hours over his shift, all Namjoon can think about is Dasom. Is she okay? Has she eaten anything? Did she drink enough water today? She’s always dehydrated after her classes too. He usually calls Ms. Kim to check up on her, but his calls went straight to voicemail, which definitely wasn’t helping his hectic mind. Perhaps something had happened to her?

Oh god, maybe someone broke in and had injured Dasom?

The doors are thrown open, the sound of the doorknob hitting the wall reverberating through the room. The receptionist wearing her usual polka-dot dress jumps in her seat, eyes lifting from the intense scene on her phone to the entrance of the building. An unsure smile stretches across her ruby red lips at the familiar figure, though a bit disheveled and breathless. But before the customary ‘hello’ can even form on her tongue, the figure is rushing past her, leaving only a gust of air in his wake. The papers on her desk fall to the ground, and she sighs.

Namjoon is prepared to fight the (fictional) person who thinks breaking into a toddler ballet class is a good idea, but the scene in front of him once he pushes past the doors of the studio is one he is wholly unprepared for.

He sees Dasom first, and the relief that fills his body is indescribable. It’s far from the usual sight he’s greeted with when he picks her up late. She’s not sitting on one of the chairs in the far corner of the room. His heart doesn’t feel heavy, which comes with seeing his daughter so glum. This time it’s her laughter that greets him, not one provoked by him but by the figure standing in the middle of the room with her.

Dasom doesn’t seem to be aware of the presence of her dad yet, but the figure twirling her around turns, and her eyes land on Namjoon.

The reaction is immediate. The carefree smile that had been on your face slips off, a look of embarrassment and surprise overcoming your features. Namjoon only catches a glimpse, and somehow finds himself wishing that won’t be the last time he sees it. You let go of Dasom’s hand, quickly making your way to the stereo on the other side of the room. And that’s when-

“Daddy!”

Dasom wastes no time running into her father’s open arms, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember why he was so worried in the first place. “Hi, angel.” he says, just loud enough for her to hear. She pulls back. “I’m so sorry for getting here so late. I promise i won’t do it again.”

But of course, Dasom holds nothing but forgiveness in her heart for her hard-working father. She does love teasing him, though. “Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to her.” she giggles, pointing behind her and Namjoon furrows his brow until he remembers they’re not the only ones in the room.

His eyes immediately move to where you stand awkwardly near the stereo, eyes moving around the room as if you hadn’t been watching the whole exchange. Namjoon sighs, realizing he definitely can’t avoid talking to you now. He stands straight, holding onto Dasom’s hand as he makes his way over to you. You only seem to grow more nervous as he nears, and Namjoon distantly recalls Jin telling him he came off as intimidating to most people. Something about his ‘beefy’ arms, in his own words. (“And that stupid and unfairly attractive face!”) He goes for a smile because it's not like he can control his physique.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about…”

Namjoon stops.

Maybe it was the overwhelming distress before, or the really shitty lighting of the studio, but he hadn’t realized how pretty you were before. But now he’s standing right in front of you and he can’t seem to form a coherent thought. Pretty can’t be the right word. He realizes how creepy he probably looks, running in here like a madman and then downright staring at the (very beautiful) woman who looked after his daughter? Not cool, man.

You clear your throat, before extending a hand to him. “Hi, I’m ____, the new ballet instructor.”

Your voice sounds just like honey.

Namjoon stares at your hand dumbly, before the sound of Dasom snickering (very discreetly) behind him snaps him out of it. But instead of introducing himself, or apologizing, or just taking your fucking hand, he says-

“What happened to Ms. Kim?”

He mentally face-palms.

Not. Cool. Man.

Your face falls, and Namjoon has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than he does now. “Uh, she’s instructing the teen class now.” you chuckle awkwardly, dropping your hand.

“Oh-”

“Daaaad,” Dasom's voice sounds annoyed, and perhaps it’s a bit silly of Namjoon to feel like he’s being scolded, but that is exactly how he feels right now. “I told you this. In the morning. Remember?”

He doesn’t. “Ah, right of course,” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck. It wasn’t like he meant to forget, he had just been too busy thinking about the other things every September would bring. “Sorry, I’m Kim Namjoon. Dasom’s dad.”

This time he offers his hand, and he thanks the skies above that you don’t seem to hate him because you fit your hand against his. Warm, like honey. How long had it been since he last made a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl?

Too long.

“I’m terribly sorry for arriving so late it’s just that my boss, who’s a huge-” Namjoon glances at Dasom, who is now in her own world, singing some song she learned in school, “jerk, decided to assign these reports last minute and the printer would just not work and then traffic hour-”

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but Namjoon can see the amusement bubbling in your eyes. He flushes a deep red, eyes falling to the floor, realizing he started ranting.

“It’s okay. Really.”

When he looks back up, there’s a smile on your face. Not like the one before, this one was more reserved, but genuine, reassuring. And just like that, he’s sure you don’t hate him.

Namjoon’s not sure he likes this feeling though.

“Straighten your arms out, girls!” you belt over the classical music that floods the studio’s walls, scanning your army of toddlers in tutus whose arms immediately tense at your command. Making your way through the row, you poke and prod everywhere from their shoulders to their ankles. “Arch your back more, Somin.”

Their muscles violently tremble in response to the strenuous routine you’ve introduced, facial features scrunched in concentration and a resolute will to uphold their positions despite the hyperextension of their limbs. A mix of pity and pride swells in your chest at their effort. “Keep your chins up, the annual recital is only a couple of days away.”

Cheers erupt throughout the small room, disrupting the focus and spoiling their perfect form, yet you refuse to quiet excitement because of the renewed vigour buzzing throughout the room. The next hour depletes all of their built-up energy with demi-piles, pirouettes and sautés.

A glance at the analog clock in the corner informs you of the five minutes remaining before the end of class, so you pause the speakers and instruct the girls to stretch themselves out as they wait for their guardians to trickle in. They collectively sigh in relief before dropping to the floor like flies.

You snort at their dramatics with an amused smile playing at your lips. “I said to stretch, not to lay down and nap.”

“Can’t we nap and stretch at the same time?”

Strolling over to the source of the voice, you cluck your tongue at her limp form sprawled across the wooden floor and cross your arms, struggling to keep your giggles from breaking your angered facade. “And how do you suppose we do that, little Miss Dasom?”

She flashes her toothless grin up at you. “Like this!” With one leg bent over the other and her hands looping around to hold her twisted limbs to her torso, she shuts her eyes and exaggerates her snores.

At this point, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your snickers, and the rest of the class joins in your laughter. You pick up on Dasom’s tinkling giggles between each of her heavy breaths. The lighthearted jokes continue as kids are signed out with bright grins on each of their faces.

You wait for the rest of the toddlers to file out one by one, waving goodbye and checking them off your list until, as usual, Dasom is the only toddler left. Her tiny feet still clad in her faded ballet shoes waddle up to you, tugging on your blouse.

“Your pirouette was a bit wobbly today, do you want to go over—”

“‘M tired,” she interrupts, slouching her shoulders with an adorable frown marring her lips. Her exhaustion is justified, since the routine is rather exhausting, and with their recital right around the corner, you worked them to the bone today.

The odd timing of the switch between you and Ms. Kim left you with a little under a week to tweak and perfect their current choreography. A sloppy routine is not the way you want to present your skills to their parents for the first time, thus you were stricter with the kids than normal.

Your sympathy wins out, and so you gather Dasom’s lithe figure into your arms as you head to the closest wall. With your back supported, you spread out your legs and place her in your lap.

“My birthday is this Thursday.”

“Mhm,” you hum, bobbing your head to signal for her to continue her train of thought.

Her back faces you, but when her head tips down to stare at her hands, you know she’s contemplating her words carefully. Rather than encouraging her to speak freely, you wait for her to feel comfortable enough to reveal her thoughts; and surely enough, her shell cracks open just enough for you to peep through. “Do you wanna come?”

“I would be honoured.” A giddy smile splits across your lips. “Is Daddy picking you up again today?”

She flips around in your hold, wrapping her arms around your waist and snuggling her head to your chest. Her words are muffled into the fabric of your thin shirt, but her tone indicates her affirmation.

Suddenly self-conscious of your heartbeat—that Dasom can definitely hear with her ear pressed up against you—picking up pace at the mention of her father, you suppress your thoughts with a guilty conscience. You internally chide yourself for harbouring feelings for the charming, taken, man, defying arguably one of the most important fundamental rules of becoming an instructor.

Do not develop silly crushes on your student’s parents.

“Ms. ____?” her faint question snaps you out of your reverie, attention brought back to the present moment. While preoccupied, your hand took on a mind of its own, gingerly patting the space between the little girl’s shoulder blades at a slow rhythm.

She gazes up at you when you halt your rhythmic movements, sharp eyes boring into yours. “Are you gonna ask Daddy to come see me dance?”

The edges of your lips flip up in what you hope to be an encouraging smile as you nod your head. Subconsciously, you begin to stress over another encounter with Namjoon, formulating a script to hopefully avoid the stiff, tense atmosphere that lingered throughout all your previous interactions.

“Daddy’s always really busy,” she slurs, drowsiness coating her words and weighing down on her lids. Grumbling under her breath about her numb legs, Dasom crawls onto the floor beside you with her head resting on your thigh. “He’s always working hard for me.”

Your eyes soften at the fetal position she’s taken up on the ground; not only was Dasom lucky to have such a dedicated father, but Namjoon was also blessed with a caring daughter. “You don’t think he can make it?”

“It’s okay,” she whispers and you have to crane your ears to listen. You stroke the strands littering her forehead, gingerly caressing the crown of her head. “It’s okay if Daddy can’t come. I know him, he’s trying to do it all because Mommy’s not with us anymore, but it’s okay. I still love him even if I can’t see him lots.”

A knot forms between your eyebrows, a bittersweet ache forming within the creases of your heart. The painful constriction of your chest ebbs and flows with your shallow breaths that can’t seem to make it past your throat. You bite your lip to subdue the plentiful liquid gathering at your waterline.

No more than a croak escapes your lips before the door to the studio flies open, meeting the adjacent wall with a bang!

“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and I couldn’t—” the rest of his speech gets stuck in his windpipe at the sight of you, eyes rimmed red and sniffling, with Dasom, ostensibly dead asleep, on your thigh. “Did she…?”

You blink away your incoming tears, although your dignity has been completely thrown out the window, seeing as he believes that his four-year-old kid made a grown woman, who just so happens to be her ballet teacher, bawl her eyes out.

As you go to gently shake Dasom awake, she sluggishly lifts her head off of your lap and starts to scale your torso like a koala on a tree. Your confusion is vocalized through the high-pitched hum in your throat, but your efforts to pry off her limbs, tightly wound around the small of your waist, are futile.

“Uh, Dasom? It’s time to go home now, angel.” Despite his firm words, Namjoon’s tone is unsure and shaky; he can feel cold sweat build up in the lines of his palms. He knows his daughter, and she can be periodically stubborn and insistent the way children are at her age, thus even as you come to stand, she’s stuck to you like glue. “Would you, uh, did you need a ride?”

You mimic the sheepish smile on his face, hoping the flaming blush you feel on your cheeks isn’t as visible as it seems. “Sure.”

With Dasom latched onto you, both of you make your way to the red car outside after you lock up the studio. Namjoon courteously opens the car door for you, what with your arms supporting his clingy toddler; although, with the brute force he uses, you worry for the state of the hinges. Thankfully, they stay intact and he’s able to slip into the backseat after you.

Before an awkward silence can settle, you clear your throat and prepare to ask him about his day, but you’re interjected by Namjoon’s sudden stammering, “D-driving’s such a hassle for me so Jin drives us everywhere. Jin knows how to drive though, so, don’t worry.” He finishes with a deep chuckle that dies off nearly as quickly as it began. Oh, that’s unexpected.

“You don’t to drive yourself?” Rather than being processed in your brain and logically thought through, the question immediately enters your mouth without any prior scanning for dumbass-content. You instantly regret it, feeling as though it’s much too invasive. “You don’t have to answer that, I—”

The hearty laughter that meets your ears is “No, I do. Sometimes. But its easier raising this one like this.” His tone turns sweet at the mention of Dasom as he reaches over to pat her head, and you’re overcome with an intense desire to prod more into his personal life. Why does he have to work so much? Which shirt in his closet is his favourite? How does he like his eggs in the morning?

“I’m not sure if you already knew about the annual recital on Saturday, but Dasom’s been practicing really hard for weeks and the kids are all really talented, so it would definitely be worth your time...”

As he’s gazing at his daughter, galaxies of devotion and longing swirl within his cocoa irises. The cool light of the moon shines through the windows of the car, illuminating his sharp jawline and strong brows. You’re absolutely mesmerized by the sight in front of you. “You must be really busy, huh?”

“More than I’d like to be.”

You rip your entranced gaze away from Namjoon, willing yourself to steady your frantic breaths.

The remainder of the ride still drips with awkward tension, although with a definite lighter tone than before. Jin pulls up to your apartment with your direction and you dislodge a sleepy Dasom from your torso, which is much easier now that her limbs have gone slack with sleep. Handing her off to Namjoon, who practically engulfs her tiny form with his broad chest, you rush out of the vehicle with a quick, “See you!”

You slam the door closed before he can say anything, racing into the comfort of your home with your heart in your throat.

The last thing you had expected to do on a Thursday evening was to go to a birthday dinner. Thursdays are your days off, your in-days. The ones you spend lounging on your couch with a face mask and some wine. And yet, here you are.

When you received a text this morning, the last person you had expected it to be was Namjoon. Much less Namjoon asking you to come over for Dasom’s birthday. You weren’t going to say yes, hell, you had thought of downright ignoring it. It was weird, wasn’t it? But Dasom had quickly carved a toddler-shaped hole into your heart. Truly, you had said yes before the message was even typed out.

And so now you stare at the tall apartment building in front of you, definitely feeling more nervous than before. You knew that Namjoon had to be well-off to afford a weekday chauffeur, but damn did you not expect him to be this well-off.

It seemed today was the day to expect absolutely anything.

You enter the opulent building, signing in at the front desk before entering the large, mirrored elevator. The beating of your heart picks up the more floors you pass, and you can’t help but fidget with your appearance. Namjoon had said it would only be you three, which you guessed was supposed to calm your nerves but really, it did anything but that. The mere thought of eating dinner with Namjoon was nerve-wracking. But now you were about to eat dinner and enter his home; you had no fucking clue what you were getting yourself into.

The doors slide open, and you step into the hallway. A single door could be seen at the end of the hallway, so you quickly make your way over. You stop right in front, taking a deep breath in before pushing the doorbell. A beat, a crash, another beat, then-

The door swings open, and your breath catches in your throat.

Namjoon looks heavenly as always, but seeing him in clothes other than his usual black slacks makes your heart do a cartwheel. God, this is dangerous.

“Ms. ____!”

Before Namjoon can form a hello, Dasom is running past him and wrapping her small arms around your legs. “You came! See daddy! I told you she’d come.” her tongue pokes out of her mouth, aimed straight at her father and you stifle a laugh.

“Did he think I wouldn’t?” you ask, eyebrow arched as you glance at Namjoon, who seems to have a permanent pink hue on his face.

“He said you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, really? What else did he say?”

“He said I had to help him clean either way!”

“Alright, Dasom. That’s enough.” He says firmly, clearing his throat and trying to act as unaffected as possible. His eyes shift to meet yours. “Why don’t you come inside?”

As much as this day really sucked for Namjoon, today had been… different. Not all too much. Of course, getting up was the hardest part, but he had decided to make Dasom her favourite breakfast meal instead of her usual cereal. He had also made sure to get her all the toys she had been wanting, and planned their day out to do Dasom’s favourite things. Namjoon just wanted this day to be special for her. That was all he cared about.

But when Dasom had asked him to invite you, he had hesitated.

Dasom had never spent her birthdays with anyone else but Namjoon. Not that it was intentional, but Namjoon liked to have this day just for the both of them. Because that’s how it’s always been. He didn’t know what it was about you that made his daughter talk about you all the time. Or why she wanted to spend a birthday with you. But how could he deny her? And so, the text was sent.

And now, as Namjoon puts away the dishes while you sit on his couch, he realizes he hadn’t thought of her today. Not as much as the years before. Dinner had been so... nice. It felt nice to have someone else around. Namjoon loves Dasom, but he hadn’t realized how distant he had gotten from everything that had once seemed to be the centre of his life.

Namjoon closes the dishwasher, exiting the kitchen and making his way to the living room. He places the two glasses on the table before pouring the dark red liquid.

“I hope you like Merlot.”

“Oh, please. Anything’s fine.”

You take the wine glass, sending him a thank you before taking a drink. “So,” you lean back, “remind me how to play this again.”

“Ms.____ I told you. You have to take a block without knocking the tower over,” Dasom shows you by pushing a middle wooden block out, “then you have to place it on top, like this.'' She places the same block on top of the tower.

“Ah, right! I just need to make sure if I want to win.”

“You can’t! I’m the best!”

“Oh really? And what about you?” you turn, brow raised and eyes playful.

“Pshh,” he scoffs, leaning forward. “Who do you think she takes after?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever lost a game so quickly.

Namjoon watches as you close Dasom’s door quietly from the hallway before you make your way back to the family room. “She’s out like a light. I guess all that tower building got to her.”

Namjoon snorts. He feels oddly disappointed as he watches you gather your things to go. Was it weird that he wanted you to stay? “Do you need me to get you a ride? I can call Jin to drive you home.”

“No, it’s fine! Really! I already ordered an Uber anyway.” You grab your coat near the door. Before Namjoon can unlock the door, you touch his shoulder. “Listen, thank you for inviting me today. I know you probably wanted to spend this day together instead, but I... “ you inhale, because you aren’t sure of what you want to actually say “thank you.”

Would it be weird to say how much better you made today? Probably. “You don’t… have to thank me. I think I should be the one doing the thanking. I really wanted this day to be special for Dasom and you… you definitely helped. So, thank you.”

The door opens, and the light of the hallway fills his dim flat. “Guess we’re even then.” you smile before turning, making your way to the elevator. Namjoon shuts the door once the sight of you is gone, but the smile on his face remains

“Guess we are.” he whispers wistfully

Perhaps stopping at a flower vendor when you’re already running late was a bad idea, but Namjoon wasn’t thinking about time. He had seen the bouquet of flowers and imagined the huge smile that would stretch across Dasom’s face, and that was all he needed to swerve into the left lane.

Now, though, as he anxiously watches the cars in front of him move a foot forward after thirty minutes, he’s sure he should have just left the fucking flowers alone.

Namjoon doesn’t know how long he’s been shifting his eyes from the traffic to the watch ticking around his wrist, but by a miracle, the cars start moving. Slowly, then he’s speeding down the highway, praying to the skies above he’ll make it in time. Even if he arrives in the midst of the dance, he can’t miss this recital. He won’t.

He sighs in relief when he sees the familiar glass building, though it’s cut short when he sees the parking lot. No available place in sight. Fuck. Namjoon is sure he looks insane right now, swerving around the parking lot in search for an empty spot, or really just any fucking spot that looks like it could fit his monster of a car.

Then the clouds seem to open up, and right near the entrance is a vacant spot. Namjoon swears his mouth almost waters at the sight. Quickly speeding around the lot, he parks, but not before flipping off the angry parent who tries to beat him to it. Namjoon exits his car, quickly grabbing his coat and the large bouquets of flowers from the backseat. He runs to the entrance, practically throwing the shriveled paper at the ticket clerk.

Namjoon slows as he nears the theatre doors, taking a deep breath before calmly opening it. He had completely forgotten to book seats in advance, so he’s not surprised to see the velvet seats filled to the brim. When he looks to the stage, he’s relieved to see that there’s still time until Dasom comes on.

Now, Namjoon knows he’s not the most… balanced person. It’s common knowledge that he trips over his feet and knocks things over sometimes. (Oh, but definitely more than the average person.) Now, if you were to ask Namjoon if he pays attention to his surroundings, he'd say yes.

But if you were to ask Namjoon what he tripped over, he wouldn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because now there’s a furious mother with a horrendous bob cut glaring at him, and what he thinks to be a broken camcorder on the floor. The only thing he can manage is an awkward smile and an even more awkward apology. Namjoon offers to give her the cost for repairs, hell, even offers to buy her a new one. The woman snatches the bills from his hands but she doesn’t go back to minding her business like he thought she would. No, instead she starts to argue with him, in the middle of her child’s recital, no less!

Namjoon can’t do anything but stare at her as she blabbers on about how horrible he is for throwing her camcorder on the floor. (Not like it had much life left, that thing looked like it was from 2007.) She’s damn near spitting on his face, and causing other parents to turn around and glare at them. As if it was his fault. Who knew she had such an attachment to the damn thing!

A hand lands on his shoulder, and for a second he’s sure it’s security ready to escort him out of the building. But when he turns, he’s surprised to see it’s you. Like an angel had ascended from the clouds to save Namjoon from the wrath of a ballet mom. And just like that, you’re leading him away, taking a seat two rows before the stage. Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of the empty seat beside you.

It’s that feeling again, and Namjoon’s palms start to get sweaty as he takes a seat. “Jesus, thank you for that,” he whispers, relishing your quiet laughter that follows.

“Of course. She was probably a blink away from going full-blown Karen on you.” you tease.

“Oh, and that wasn’t?”

“Oh, Joon, you haven’t seen how angry ballet moms can get.” you both laugh, huddled together as if you’re sharing a special secret. It seems so natural. As if this is where he’s supposed to be. So much that Namjoon almost doesn’t catch the nickname, but how could he miss it when you say it just like she used to?

The stage lights darken, and Namjoon is grateful for the excuse to look elsewhere. He’s sure if he would have stared at you for just a bit longer, he would have done something completely and utterly stupid. “This is her.” you whisper, and Namjoon buries the thought away.

A blue hue shines across the stage before the soft melody begins to play, filling the room with the sounds of strings and keys. One by one, tiny swans begin to come into view, prancing around the stage. Namjoon catches sight of Dasom, looking adorable in her white tutu and he can’t help the proud smile that makes its way onto his face. He watches with adoration as she does her pirouettes, and maybe there’s some water overflowing in his eyes as they finish their dance, bowing towards the audience.

You both stand, clapping and cheering the loudest, uncaring of the stares from the snobby rich parents because you’re both too damn proud of Dasom to care. For a moment, Namjoon pretends that it’s different, simpler. That it’s not only his child on stage but yours. Ours. He thinks he likes the sound of that too much.

Once the show ends, you lead Namjoon backstage where the buzz of dozens of girls talking fills the air. You tell him that you need to check in on the other kids and disappear through a hallway. He spots Dasom quickly, or rather, she spots him.

“Daddy! You came!”

Namjoon lifts Dasom with his free arm, twirling her around before placing a big kiss on her forehead. Her giggles fill him with delight, and he doesn’t care that his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s been smiling. “Of course I came, angel. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He places her on the ground before he grabs the bouquet of sunflowers from his other arm. The sight of her favourite flower makes Dasom jump with joy. She takes the flowers, and Namjoon silently coos at how much smaller they make her look. Then she spots the other bouquet of flowers in his arm. She scrunches her brows together, about to ask who those are for before her eyes catch something behind Namjoon.

“Ms. ____!”

“Dasom!”

Dasom jumps into your arms, and you laugh at her enthusiasm. “You did so well! I’m so proud of that pirouette!” You twirl her around once her feet hit the ground, smiling as you watch her stumble slightly. Namjoon can’t help but smile too.

“Look what daddy got me, Ms. ____! Look!” Dasom lifts the flowers up, almost shoving them into your face.

“Wow, these are very beautiful, Dasom!”

“Look! He got you some too!” she giggles, and you look at her confusedly then at Namjoon. He sighs, looking pointedly at Dasom despite the cherry hue making its way across his cheeks. She giggles once again before running to her friends. “Dasom!” but it's futile.

If it weren’t for the consistent chatter, Namjoon’s sure there would be an agonizing silence to fill the space between you. You walk closer to him, looking down at your shoes bashfully. “Ah, these-” he takes the bouquet from his arm, “these are for you.”

You looked surprised to say the least. Eyes wide and glassy, your mouth falling ajar. “Wow, uh, really?” you ask, glancing up from the bouquet. He nods shyly.

Listen, he had only planned to buy Dasom her favourite flowers. But then he caught sight of these beautiful yellow roses, tips painted a light amber orange. Somehow they reminded him of you. And the way you had left him with his heart feeling lighter for the first time in years the other night. Maybe it was a way of saying thank you. He’ll admit, he didn’t think it all the way through, but the way you’re smiling at him right now makes him think it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

There’s a moment where it seems to just be you and him, despite the tons of parents and children running around. He’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes drop to his lips, if only for a millisecond. Namjoon wants to say it. God, he wants to say it so badly. “Listen I… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” his voice fades away as his eyes catch yours. Hopeful. Beautiful. Glimmering.

Just like hers.

“Do you, uh, need a ride home?”

And the bubble bursts.

You step away, looking at anything but him and he hates it. He despises it. He wants you to look at him like that again. He wants nothing more than to pull you back and kiss you senselessly, like his mind is screaming for him to do. But he can’t. He can’t do it for some fucking reason and he almost wants to cry in frustration because why can’t this just be easier? Why is it so hard to move on? You don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better than what he can offer you. And that thought keeps him still.

“Uh, sure.”

Quiet.

Say something, idiot! Tell her what you’ve been dying to say! Just fucking say it!

Namjoon hates himself for the next words that tumble out of his mouth.

“Let’s find Dasom.”

The drive to your house is just like it was before, except this time there’s no chatter to fill the emptiness. Dasom is sound asleep in the backseat. You've never seemed more distant than now, facing the window, body pressed against the door. You had almost begged to go in the back with Dasom, and Namjoon doesn’t know why he didn’t just let you.

How did it come to this? This wasn’t what he wanted. This night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Everything should have gone differently.

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever fix this. If things will go back to normal. If he completely ruined it. But he’s too afraid to ask. Too afraid to know.

Namjoon has never hated the quiet more.

The sight of your apartment complex fills him with dread. All he can think about is all he wants to say, all he should have said, all he wants to take back. God, Namjoon wishes he could take it back. If only there was a way to turn back the time. Why had he been so afraid to make a move? Why did it hurt so much? But he knows going back wouldn’t help. Not when he doesn’t know if he would have done it differently.

His car comes to a stop, and the doors unlock. He faintly catches the small thank you before the passenger door slams shut. Namjoon watches as you make your way up the pathway, feet moving briskly and it feels like he’s watching you walk away from him.

You’re shuffling through your bag, looking for your key. And fuck, is he really just going to this go? Is he that stubborn that he can’t see past himself? He can’t. He can’t let you go. Not like this.

Well do something, dumbass!

The door of his car is thrown open, and before he can overthink it-

“____!”

You still. You turn.

Namjoon shuts the door. He walks up the steps and stops a few feet away from you, but he feels like he’s miles away. You look up at him, questioning. Your eyes aren’t the same ones. Not like you looked at him before. Yet they’re still warm. Inviting. Namjoon is tongue-tied, and all those words he wanted to say are gone now.

“Are we… good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I just…” he scratches the back of his neck. “That moment back at the recital. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” you say, simply. When he looks at you, he can’t tell what you’re feeling. You’ve blocked him off. “Namjoon, really. It’s fine.”

But is it really? He wants to ask. But he doesn’t. It’s quiet again, this time the sound of the wind rustling the browning leaves above filling the space. Still.

“I… god, I don’t know why this is so hard. Ever since, you know,” you don’t. “I… I didn’t think I'd ever get an opportunity to…” he inhales, unsure of what he wants to say first.

“I just feel like I ruined it so carelessly.”

You don’t say anything for a few moments. You only stare at him, really stare at him. Like you can see through his mirage, through the walls he’s spent so long building up. You’re taking it all, but there’s nothing he can take back from you.

“You didn’t.” you whisper it so quietly, Namjoon would have thought his mind had taken pity on him. But a smile slips onto your face. Unlike the other ones. It doesn’t fill him with joy. It doesn’t give him butterflies. This one hurts.

And he knows you’re telling the truth.

“This… It might take a while.”

The wind picks up. The leaves rustle. The cold, biting.

“That’s ok. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Your lips are bittersweet on his tongue.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN TO KARLA !! ILYYYY <3

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