#Juilliard hair
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blueeyeddarkknight · 2 years ago
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Val was a bright star in a sky full of them.. Even back then 🌟
Juilliard teacher, Michael Kahn, recalls : "Val stood out as someone you knew would find work. His talent was natural and enormous, and his dedication was so much-fiercer than the average student's. With his looks, you just knew he'd be that one of 97 or so who'd get jobs."
Ultimately earning his Bachelor degree, "with the dub honor of three years on probation,"
Val concentrated his studies in classical theater, acting in many Greek tragedies and Shakespearean plays, including MacBeth and Richard III.
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chastainstuff · 6 months ago
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like or chztain
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spideyhexx · 6 months ago
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missing the prince charming look fr
yeah that hair is pretty🫶
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In the summer before Juilliard, Glenn worked at a summer camp in the Catskills in New York, coaching basketball to kids as a break from acting. The staff were putting on plays for the kids and when they found out he was in theatre, they asked him to assistant direct some of the shows. He then played Joseph in the musical Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat and "he nailed it". So they pulled him out of sports and dragged him into their theatre programme.
And then he talks about his baby son and male lactation.
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this is not part of the other scene i just thought it was cute and it turns out im super busy all next week so i wont hav time to do a whole nother gifset so here it is on its own
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berzahoes · 1 year ago
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when you know you know | tom blyth
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summary: the idiots finally meet (nepo baby!reader)
an: i can always count on reddit for inspiration bc i rewrote this a bunch of times 😭 also these are just random names for the friends lol @astheni-a
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“don’t look now, but the guy behind you is staring.” your friend, meg, whispered to you. you and a couple of your girlfriends were seated in the food court of the mall. after a while, meg noticed that a group of guys sat a few tables away, one of them occasionally glanced at you.
“he’s cute,” your other friend, layne, joined in.
your other friend beside you, louise, smirked at you. “someone’s got a crush. think about it, we can all go on dates together if he asks you out.”
you rolled your eyes. “i don’t even know what he looks like. meg told me not to look.”
“he has brown hair, probably six feet and really pretty eyes. i think that’s all you need to know about your future man.” meg said.
“you just described almost every boy here,” you replied. you looked down at your drink and noticed it was almost empty so you gathered your trash and decided to go throw it away. “i like being single anyways. i have more me time.”
“babe, we know you don’t like it. just talk to lover boy over there and if you don’t like him then that’s that. we won’t push you to talk to any one else ever again.” layne said.
“just this one time.” you sighed. secretly, you did want someone to love. you never had an official boyfriend. during high school, you were talking with a guy from math class, but you quickly found out he just wanted to meet your famous dad. after that, you had difficulty knowing what relationship and friendships were real.
you stood up with your empty drink cup and walked to the nearest trash can. after throwing your trash away, you tried to look over your shoulder to see what boy meg had been taking about, but you couldn’t figure out who it was. brown hair, pretty eyes, tall . . . that could be anyone.
you sighed and decided to just turn around and look instead of looking like a creep, but just as you turned around, a guy had walked right in front of you almost causing his drink to spill.
“oh my god, i’m so sorry.” you immediately apologize.
“it’s okay, um are you . . . okay?” he asked shyly.
“yeah, I’m good. i’m sorry again. i . . yeah sorry.” you kept repeating as you looked at his eyes. they were a beautiful blue color. you were a sucker for colored eyes. well the british accent was a bonus too.
“i’m tom.” he introduced himself.
“i’m yn. nice to meet you. sorry for almost making you drop your drink. sorry, i apologize too much. it’s a habit.” you chuckled nervously.
get it together, yn
“no, it’s fine, wasn’t really drinking it anyways. so . . are you here alone?” he asked, but regretted it immediately when he noticed it might’ve sounded creepy.
“no, i’m with my friends. i’m sorry, again, i noticed the accent, you’re british. are you visiting good ol’ new york?” you questioned.
“studying here actually. i go to juilliard. what about you?”
“i’m actually from los angeles but i visit here quite often. it’s my second home. but i do travel a lot so i call multiple places my second home. sorry if i ramble, i do that when i start getting comfortable.”
from the table, your friends saw how you talked with a stranger.
“does anyone know how to lip read?”
“shhh! shut up layne!”
“who’s gonna tell her that’s not the guy we were talking about?”
“i don’t want to break her heart. plus he does look exactly like how meg described so a win is a win.”
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loveinhawkins · 2 years ago
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Barely ten minutes into the hike from Skull Rock to Lover’s Lake, Dustin heaves a sigh like he’s the most long suffering person in the world to ever exist. Steve rolls his eyes.
“Jesus Christ, Henderson, what?”
“I’m bored.”
“God, you’re such a whiner. No, you—you’re like a little kid on a road trip, like, are we there yet?”
Behind them, Max and Lucas snort in almost perfect unison.
Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees Eddie’s lips twitch into the faint semblance of a smile. It’s very quick, blink and you miss it, before he turns sombre again, looking down at the forest floor. Steve can’t blame the guy; he can’t imagine that he has all that much to smile about.
“I just meant,” Dustin says, “that we could use some entertainment.” He jerks his head meaningfully at Eddie—who thankfully still has his head down so he can’t witness this tremendous lack of subtlety—and mouths, You know, a distraction.
“And I’m the entertainment guy,” Steve says flatly.
“Well, we’ve gotta keep you around for some reason,” Lucas pipes up.
Steve turns around, walks backwards so he can point warningly at him. “Thin ice, Sinclair.”
But it’s all for show, and he keeps walking backwards, pretends to trip on a tree root and narrowly avoid a pratfall. Max actually giggles at that, which is a victory in and of itself, but Eddie’s looking down at his feet.
Hmm.
“If I wanted slapstick, I would’ve called Charlie Chaplin,” Dustin says.
“He’s dead,” Max points out.
Dustin quickly draws a hand over his neck, Cut it out. Which—yeah, that’s fair. Don’t want the conversation straying into stuff that’s too close to… everything.
“So you want education instead?” Steve says. “I think I can remember how to identify, like, some trees and shit from—”
“Forget Lover’s Lake,” Dustin says, “I’m walking you straight into a retirement home.”
Steve opens his mouth, ready to play up his outrage, and then he hears a very soft chuckle from the side. Eddie.
Steve catches Dustin’s eye, winks briefly in reassurance. Nice work.
“Oh, sorry, is that not entertaining enough for you?” Steve turns so he’s front facing again, kicking a few stray twigs as he thinks. “Uh… ooh, did I tell you about the affair? At work?”
“Someone’s having an affair at Family Video?” Lucas says, sounding disgusted.
Max cackles. “The scandal! At a family establishment, no less.”
Dustin points at her. “See, this is why you should play D&D!” he says, annoyingly sing-song. “You’ve got a flair for words.”
“How about I stick my flair right up your—”
“Uh, okay,” Eddie interrupts suddenly. “I need details.”
Aha, Steve thinks, smug. Got you.
“Fire away, Munson.”
“Did someone, like, confess to you while you were ringing them up?”
Steve scoffs. “No, it was—” He cups his mouth, calls, “Hey, Rob?”
Up ahead, Robin and Nancy turn.
“What?”
“The affair shift.”
“Oh!” Robin whacks Nancy on the arm in her enthusiasm. “This is such a good one. Okay, so am I gonna be her or—?”
“No!” Steve says. “You’ve gotta be me, you can’t do her voice right.”
“Ugh, fine, fine. Wait, I need to get into character.”
Robin makes a show of ruffling her hair, and Steve doesn’t even roll his eyes, can only grin as he hears Eddie cough a much stronger laugh into his elbow.
“Nance, count us in,” Robin says.
Nancy looks a mixture of surprised and amused. It only takes a moment of hesitance before she mimes holding a slate, mouths counting down. “Action!”
And they’re off.
It’s probably so stupid, Steve thinks, to be this loud right now, but he can’t bring himself to care—not when he can hear raucous laughter from all directions: Robin captures his flustered, wide-eyed look, while he dramatically re-enacts a woman storming into the store, demanding to see her husband’s account.
And he thinks Eddie actually laughs the loudest when he gets to the reveal: that said account was full of romantic movies the married couple had never seen together.
“Not one,” Steve echoes—and not to brag, but with this delivery? Juilliard, eat your heart out. “Not. One!”
The kids dissolve into more giggles; Robin fights to stay in character as Nancy jokingly calls, “And, scene!”
And Eddie throws back his head, and laughs and laughs.
Happiness is a good look on him, Steve thinks.
They all quieten eventually, but a lightness in mood still remains, as the kids huddle off together—“Hey, shitheads, not too far!” Steve says, far from the first time—and Eddie sidles up, fleetingly knocks their shoulders together.
“Steve Harrington. Who would’ve thought it, huh?”
“Thought what?”
Steve glances over at him, suddenly struck by the fact that the sun will go down soon; and he doesn’t really need to know what Mordor is to know that he’d rather not get there. That he’d rather freeze time, so they could all just walk in the woods forever.
Eddie shrugs. “You’re a good storyteller.” His eyes are soft, like that isn’t all that he’s saying. Like he’s saying Thank you.
Steve shrugs back. “I’m a man of many talents,” he says.
Eddie chuckles, and this time his smile doesn’t fade away.
Steve allows himself a moment or two to admire the scenery, and if that means looking less at the way the sun still shines through the gaps in the branches, and more the way that it illuminates Eddie’s lingering smile, well…
Well, so what?
Right now, we’re happy, Steve finds himself thinking.
They can stay in the Shire for a little while longer.
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shadowkoo · 3 months ago
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Just Dance It Off
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→ Summary: You're over the moon when you land the female lead in the end-of-semester show. It feels like your hard work has finally paid off, everything is going great. Well, until you learn who your partner is…
↠ jimin x f.reader | 9.5k words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, angst, fluff, ballet dancers au, enemies to lovers, performing arts college au
→ Warnings: explicit and unprotected sex, jealousy, masturbation, alcohol consumption, underage drinking, use of fake ID, mild exhibitionism, creampie, hair pulling, angry sex, nipple play, degradation, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, multiple smut scenes, heavy teasing & banter, edging, orgasm denial, light choking
→ Author Note: This is a rewrite of an old 2019 fic of mine, so I hope you enjoy the newest version! If you’d like to read this on ao3 instead it’s been crossposted here! Also a biiiiiiig thank you so Sarah @caelesjjk for beta editing this for me. Go show her some love if you aren't already following her! As always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3
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“Oh, no,” you hear one of the dancers behind you whisper to another, “Look who’s walking in.”
Your curiosity gets the best of you as you casually stretch, your eyes betraying you by glancing over your shoulder toward the door, dying to see who they’re talking about. You recognize him almost immediately and the whispers continue to grow about the slender male who is walking across the room to set his stuff down.
Park Jimin.
Of course, he would be auditioning for this show. It’s his final semester, and you really should have seen this coming. Especially since you knew he was bound to get whatever position he was auditioning for. That’s a given.
Park Jimin always gets whatever he wants in life; whether that be a specific role in a performance, who his performance partners are both on the stage…and in the bedroom, that sort of thing. He’s the most pretentious person you’ve ever met, seeing as he acts like he is God’s gift to the dance world, and you’re already dreading any interaction you’ll have with him.
Rumor has it that his daddy, former dancer and sponsor, paid his way into Juilliard, but as much as you hate to admit it, he (unfortunately) happens to be very talented and you doubt the school didn’t already have something lined up for him, regardless of who his family is. Unlike you, who was on the waitlist for two months and had to take out a loan worth more than your life to attend this school.
Your eyes meet his and Jimin does a once-over before moving onto the people to your left. What a prick.
“Y/N!” a voice yells from the entryway. Your familiar, freckled, redheaded best friend is quickly prancing towards you.
“I’m so happy to see you here,” Catalina squeals before hugging you tightly. “What part are you auditioning for? Please tell me it’s lead. God, I miss you. It sucks that we don’t have any classes together this semester. How are you?”
You hug your petite friend back, “I miss you too! Please tell me that you’re not also auditioning for lead, I don’t want to be judged against you. Your pirouettes are perfect compared to my lousy ones.”
Her laugh echoes through the room. “Apparently you didn’t hear about my recent tumble,” she jokes, bumping her shoulder into yours. “I’ll gladly be in the background after my solo-gone-wrong.”
“Alright, everyone!” One of the male judges calls out, walking past the lineup of dancers to collect everyone’s entry form. “We’ll start with the routine you were required to memorize as a group, and then it will be individual evaluations after. Make sure your numbers are secured and let’s line up outside the door.”
After taking your place and getting into position with the rest of the packed room, you wait for the cue to begin. The routine is short and simple, and years of practice have made some of the required moves second nature.
Before you know it, the judges are escorting people out the door for the individual sessions.
You're about twentieth in line, right behind Cat. That makes you a bit nervous because, even though she’s not auditioning for the lead role, her impressive skills might land her a more prominent part than the one she’s aiming for.
Everyone else is quietly chatting in line while you do your best to relax, working through your routine in your mind. This is one of your pre-audition rituals. It always helps with easing your nerves.
By the time you finish running through a couple of full-outs in your head, you’re second in line. You wish Cat good luck as she’s ushered into the dance studio. Her five minutes go by almost too quickly, but she exits with a happy smile.
“Hey, good luck! Kill it, okay?”
You nod, quickly following after the woman who calls your name next.
“Miss Y/N, it says here that you’re auditioning for the female lead. As a sophomore?” Mr. Jenson, one of your dance professors and judge, questions. You prepared for this. It’s very uncommon for an underclassman to try out for such a prestigious role.
“Yes, sir. That’s correct.” You hold your head high.
“Well, I have to say I’m quite impressed with your confidence. Whenever you’re ready.”
You wait for the familiar beginning notes of Tchaikovsky’s Waltz Of The Flowers to play before flying effortlessly through your well-practiced routine. You’re banking on the emotional state of your dancing along with the technical moves you’ve included to impress the judges, and based on their faces when you finish, you figure you did just that. You can’t help but grin widely as you watch the four of them scribble furiously onto the sheets of paper. That’s a really good sign.
“I have to say, I was a little thrown off in the beginning by your song choice since it’s so, hmm, how do I say this, so amateur. But I was very surprised by what you chose to express and the level at which you dance,” the first judge says.
“Yes, the lines you created with your body were very exquisite,” another praises.
You nodded, taking in their advice and criticism.
“Thank you, Miss Y/N, you may exit.” Mr. Jenson says with a smile.
As soon as you step out the door and exhale, you feel a sense of relief. The excitement of your successful audition courses through you, filling you with good energy.
You find Cat stretching in the warm-up room next door.
“Oh my god, you got it. Didn’t you?” She squeals the second she sees your face.
“I don’t know…” You have a pretty good idea based on their responses and comments but aren’t positive.
“Oh, please,” she rolls her eyes, “That’s your ’I just nailed my audition’ face. You totally got it.”
“I hope so. God, wouldn’t that be so insane? When was the last time an underclassman got the lead?”
Someone behind you scoffs; you look over your shoulder and see that it’s Jimin. Your eyes narrow at him, but Cat turns you back before you go off on him. “Not worth it, the rest of us seniors think it’s great that you’re trying for a top spot. How about we go get a drink from the vending machine while we wait?”
You nod before grabbing your warm-up bag and follow her out. “I can’t believe him. He’s so stuck up,” You grumble once you’re far enough away that no one but Cat can hear you.
“He’s always like that, just be thankful that you don’t share any classes with him.”
You’ve heard that Jimin is usually the center of attention in class, whether it’s his choice or not, so you can’t imagine being stuck in one with him. It sounds like it would be impossible to get good feedback if the teachers only care about him.
After you both buy the drinks that you want, you head back. The line is smaller but it will still be at least a half-hour until everyone has had their turn. You sigh impatiently and head back into the warm-up room.
Deciding to sit along the mirrored wall, you rummage through your bag to find a pair of headphones and put your favorite playlist on shuffle while you wait. Even though it feels like half the day goes by while you’re sitting there waiting, it’s really only been about an hour.
Everyone’s attention lands on Madam Jamie, one of the contemporary dance professors, when she asks everyone to re-enter the audition room.
“Okay,” she starts once everyone gets in line, “Those whose numbers I am about to call, please step forward. Dancers eleven, one fifty-three, one forty-seven, seventeen, thirty-eight, twenty-two, and one ten.”
Cat gives you a concerned look as she steps forward without you.
“Seventy-two, fifteen, sixty-eight, thirty, thirty-four, eighty-two, one twenty-one–” you step forward and sigh in relief once she spoke your number. Tuning out the rest of the numbers called, you smile at Cat as she reaches for your hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.
“Everyone else, I’m sorry to inform you that you have not been selected. Thank you for your time,” She finishes, resting her clipboard against her chest.
Those who didn’t make the cut are escorted out as Mr. Jenson stands up to make an announcement.
“I have everyone’s part listed here,” He shakes the paper in his hand. “It’ll be left on this table for you all to look over. However, I want to first congratulate you all. We are excited to have this much talent for the semester’s exhibition show. We have some great things planned and cannot wait to get started with you all. Please take note of our rehearsal schedule. Monday, Wednesday, Friday. Eight to noon. Most of you should not have conflicting schedules as all dance classes are held in the afternoon anyway, although if you do have a problem just stay after and we can work it out. Madam Jamie and I will see you back here Monday morning. Dismissed.”
You and Cat both wait until more people clear out of the room before you have the guts to read the paper.
Catalina Wilde - Corps de ballet
Your eyes wander across the page as you search for your name.
Y/N - Lead Female Soloist
Turning towards each other, you squeal “Oh my god,” at the same time.
“I can’t believe it. We both got what we wanted,” you excitedly rush out.
“I know, this never happens. Oh, I’m so excited!” She reaches for your hand and squeezes it again, picking up the paper with her other hand.
“Oh, no.” She turns the paper towards you, “Look who your partner is.”
Park Jimin - Lead Male Soloist
You huff, “Of course, I’m not surprised.” You turn your head and search the mostly-empty room for him. You have a feeling he’s still here, it’s like you can sense his presence.
“Cat! You coming?” the group of dancers near the door asks.
“Shoot, I’ve got to head to my next session. I’ll see you later, okay?” Cat says, giving you a quick hug as she runs out the door.
Leaving just you and Jimin.
Deciding to let go of your prejudice against Jimin, you figure the best move would be to congratulate him on getting the part he auditioned for.
He watches blankly from the mirrored wall as you walk towards him.
Once in front of him, you stick your hand out. “Hey congrats, I’m looking forward to–” you begin before he rudely cuts you off by holding up his hand.
“Yeah, whatever,” he sneers, “We need to take this extremely seriously so I expect you to be at our rehearsals an hour early so we can get in extra time,” he looks you over again, “From what I can tell you’re gonna need it.”
“Also,” apparently he isn’t finished, “I expect that you’ll be taking care of your diet from here on out since I’m going to be lifting you and I don’t want my arms to give out, or worse, snap.”
“Well, you can always go to the gym and work on that yourself,” you say defensively. What a jerk.
“So can you, sweetheart.”
“Uh, wow. Okay…” Here you are trying to congratulate him and here he is treating you like dirt. “Guess the rumors are true,” you mutter as you shift your duffel strap further up your shoulder, turning to leave.
“Excuse me?” Well, shit. He wasn’t supposed to hear that part. You look him in the eyes without showing any regret for your previous statement.
His eyes narrow at you, clearly not liking your RBF, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Sorry.” However, you aren’t.
“You know,” he remarks, “I don’t care about what you’ve heard about me or what you think about me. I care if you’re going to be too immature for this role and if that’s the case I’ll have no trouble replacing you.” He follows you out the audition room.
Oh boy, you’re pissed now. You turn around and get right in his face.
“What the fuck? In case you haven’t noticed, you aren’t in charge here. Just because you’re a senior and I’m a sophomore doesn’t make you any better than me,” you bark while shoving a finger in his chest.
“Secondly, I don’t need to believe the rumors because you’ve just proven them to be true. You’re an ass to all of your partners to the point that they don’t want to dance with you so you can,” you lift up your hands to finger quote this next part, “Pick who you think is good enough.”
You scoff, “Well, here’s a fun fact dickwad. I’m not going anywhere. The judges chose me and I fully intend on dancing as the female lead in the show. So get the fuck over yourself ‘cause you’re about to be seeing a lot of me in these next few months. Got it?“
"Fine,” he huffs, pushing past you.
“Fine!” you snap, turning away from him and heading towards your next class. Now that you're thoroughly annoyed and not in the mood for your next class, which happens to be a two-hour lecture on the history of interpretive dance, you sigh and get moving before you’re late.
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The first two weeks of ‘rehearsals’ are spent training, just at a higher level than you’re used to. However, you hide it well. You’ve been making sure to keep up with the upperclassmen because you know that you are, unfortunately, replaceable if Madam Jamie or Mr. Jenson deems it necessary.
It doesn’t matter that your thighs feel like they are on fire, or that your calves might be ripping at every bend and arch you make. You’re going to complete the one hundred pliés just like everyone else without a single complaint.
Jimin must have taken your last conversation to heart, or he’s exceptionally good at masking his feelings if your words bothered him, because he’s been an excellent partner all week. Although, you know you aren’t going to grow a typical relationship with him as you did with all of the other partners you have had over the years. You’ve been friends, good friends, even, with your previous partners, something you know is never going to happen with Jimin.
He doesn’t do small talk. He really doesn’t have much to say at all other than pointing out when you are making a mistake. No good comments, nor praise–not that you’re expecting any–but it would have been nice to hear him say that he is impressed with how well you’re keeping up with him.
It’s Friday of the second week, which means that it’s the last day of the training period aka hell week, thankfully. You’re dying to get started on learning the actual program. You aren’t looking forward to Jimin’s request of showing up an hour earlier than everyone else this next week, but even though you hate to admit it, the extra time will end up benefiting you.
Today also happens to be the day the choreographer is coming in. You’ve heard the whispers throughout the school this week, everyone trying to guess who it’s going to be.
And after seeing who Madam Jamie walks into the studio with, you’re so happy to see that they were all wrong.
“O-oh my–ohmygod,” you bumble and did a double-take. It couldn’t be, could it?
The brown curls hung gorgeously on the tall man’s head and you internally drool at how much better looking he is in person. He’s so tan, so fit, so delicious–
“Can you concentrate?” Jimin grumbles in annoyance, pulling you out of your slightly inappropriate thoughts. You’re doing partner stretches, which does require some level of focus, but not enough that you have to look away from the literal Italian God who stood a mere six feet away. “What’s your deal anyway? We’re supposed to be preparing our muscles for the toughest training session yet and you’re over there stuttering like a fool.”
You scoff at him and lower your voice, “Don’t you know who that is?”
Jimin rolls his eyes. “Does it look like I care?” He mutters, pushing the backside of your thigh towards your torso.
“You can’t be serious,” you exasperate. “That’s Luca Black! You know, one of the most famous choreographers in the dance world right now. I can’t believe you don’t see how big of a deal this is.”
“The only thing I care about right now is making sure your hamstrings are loose so you don’t kick me in the face when we’re dancing.”
Now there’s an idea…
“Alright, everyone! Front and center please,” Mr. Jenson announces as he walks in the door, right on time as usual.
“Dancers, I would like you to meet Mr. Black, your choreographer. I expect you all to treat him with the same level of respect that you give me and Madam Jamie.”
“Oh please,” Mr. Black says, stepping forward, “You can all call me Luca.” His smile hits the heart of every girl in the class, and even a few of the guys. “I am looking forward to working with you all to make this performance one to remember. Can we get into a lineup to start?”
Everyone moves into the typical sequence based on each person’s position of where they belong. Which meant that you and Jimin were dead center with Luca’s eyes right on you.
You swallow slowly when he walks towards the two of you. “You must be Y/N. Mr. Jenson has told me quite a lot about you. I have to say, I am most excited to work with a dancer like you.”
Jimin is perplexed that Luca went straight to you. If anything, he’s the better dancer here and he doesn’t quite understand why a sophomore is getting so much attention. He’s nearly sick to his stomach listening to the nauseating conversation that you two are having.
“It’s an honor to have you working with us Mr. Black,” you say in awe as you shake his hand.
“Luca,” he corrects before lifting your hand to kiss it, “And the pleasure is most definitely all mine.”
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“Sorry,” you pant, rushing through the door. “I know I’m a couple of minutes late. I couldn’t find parking. Why is it so freaking busy? It’s barely seven.”
“Don’t let it happen again,” Jimin says ignoring your question. You bite your tongue and get straight into your morning stretches.
“What do you want to work on today?” you ask, knowing what he is going to say after you’re warmed up. For the past three weeks, you and Jimin have been dedicating extra time to perfecting scene two's Pas De Deux.
It’s the only section of this scene where you’re both completely alone on stage and Jimin is dead-set on making it nothing less than perfect. He reasons that just because you are the only two people on stage doesn’t mean that the audience’s attention is a given, you need to earn it.
Which is a very on-brand thing for Jimin to say.
“Do you really need to ask?” He snickers with a playful smile plastered to his face.
“Nevermind then,” you banter back, joining him as he finishes stretching.
You’ve surprisingly gotten pretty comfortable with Jimin after spending more time with him. Dancing with him is mostly fun, besides when he calls you out on your mistakes…repeatedly. But even then, you know he tries to mean well. You both have to be the best or the other will end up looking like a fool–which (you assume) neither of you want to happen.
Knowing that you’re almost halfway through the semester is a little terrifying. All the dancers have been making great progress and everything is coming together seamlessly, but you can’t help but feel the nervousness set in.
You take a deep breath and clear your thoughts, getting nervous right now will do you no good. Thankfully, when you start dancing your mind settles and you’re able to concentrate on your performance. 
Well, that is, until Jimin drops you during the lift. You might have understood the mistake if he hadn’t done it three times prior.
“Get up.” He holds his hand out for you, pulling you to your feet. “We need to get this number down, you know how important it is.”
“I’m aware of that,” you hiss. “But it would be nice if you weren’t letting me fall every two seconds.” You rub your aching side and stretch to see if that helps ease the pain.
“Just dance it off, you’ll be fine.” Jimin walks over to his stuff along the wall, before bending down to grab his water bottle.
You scowl. “Stop being ridiculous and hold me properly. I don’t have teeth anywhere down there,” you say motioning to the space between your legs. “You can put your hand where it belongs without worry, you know.”
Jimin blushes as soon as he hears your words, he turns away quickly before you notice. Yes, it’s technically his fault that you keep falling. It isn’t intentional, but he can’t help it. Especially when he can feel the warmth of your center from where his hand is resting when he goes in for the lift.
The thought of other parts of him being this close to your heat is driving him crazy and yeah, he may have faltered, which yeah, may have caused you to crash down once…twice. Okay, maybe three times. Or four?
It doesn’t matter. He’s so hyper-focused on why he’s thinking about you like this at all. You’re attractive, he already knew that. But this new-found thought of wanting to take you hard and fast, right here in the studio is something else. It comes from deep within, and he can’t decide if he wants to squash the idea completely or let it lead to something wild.
Jimin shakes his head, trying to get rid of those thoughts just long enough for you to both get through these next ten minutes before the rest of the crew arrives for rehearsal. “Alright, let’s go again.”
You get into position, Jimin falling behind you. You try to hold still but his breath tickles your neck while you wait for the music cue.
The motions are practically natural to you at this point, and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself in case you fall again.
You rapidly suck in air when you feel Jimin’s fingers press deep into your inner thigh this time as he lifts you. They are incredibly close, much closer than they were last time.
You won’t ever admit to it, but your mind is overflowing with dirty thoughts of Jimin’s fingers somewhere else. Particularly somewhere that would have you writhing within seconds.
Those thoughts are distracting, and you’re late for your cue to jump down. And somehow instead of jumping, your body twists around in a weird way as your head dives down toward the ground below you. Tensing, you brace for the impact that doesn’t come.
Unexpectedly, Jimin manages to catch you before any damage happens, and he quickly pulls you up, as if you were never upside down to begin with. His arms are wrapped right below your butt, causing your head to be directly above his. How on earth it got there, you have no idea.
But you aren’t questioning it. Adrenaline runs wild through your body, and you cling to him as if your life depends on it. Your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck, scared that you still might fall somehow.
Your faces are only a few inches apart in this position, which allows you to see how soft and smooth Jimin’s lips look. You slowly lick yours as he lowers you down to the ground, keeping the same amount of distance, or lack thereof, between you two. The realization that it would be so easy to kiss him right now has set in and you swear Jimin has the same mad thoughts; especially when he’s gripping your hips this tightly.
What you both don’t realize is that outside of the main doors, the rest of the dancers are watching with wide eyes and shocked faces. If it weren't for the unmistakable red hair you see in the mirror's reflection, who knows what might have happened? You don’t think about it, instead, you pull away and play it off before heading toward your bag to grab a drink.
“Morning everyone! What are we all waiting for?” Luca says from behind the dancers, “Let’s go in and get warmed up.”
He opens the door and sees you and Jimin at opposite ends of the room, each taking big gulps from your water bottles. Interesting…
Cat walks in and sets her stuff down next to Jimin’s and silently watches him. His face is flushed but she can’t tell if it was because of the intense moment you two just shared, or from the strain of the lifting sequence. She was the first to notice the look you two shared before the crowd outside the door, and she has a weird feeling about it.
Last she knew you were still fighting with Jimin during your pre-practices, although she’s very aware of the saying ’there’s a fine line between love and hate’. Cat makes a mental note to ask you about this morning’s situation later.
The first half of practice is weird, to say the least. Jimin is treating you like nothing happened. And while technically nothing happened, something almost did and you don’t know how you felt about the something.
Needless to say, you aren’t on top of your dance game today. It’s hard to concentrate with your head filled with empty-answered questions and even more confusion.
“Okay, everyone,” Luca echoes, stealing every dancer’s attention, “Let’s take five. When we reconvene we’ll do a recap of Scenes One through Three with no breaks. If we can get it down we’ll move onto the beginning of Scene Four today.”
You and Jimin happily turn in opposite directions, grateful for some space.
“Y/N, can you stay back? There’s something I want to go over with you,” Luca calls out, stopping you from heading in the direction of Cat and some of the other girls.
Oh no. That’s never a good sign.
“Don’t worry, you’re not doing anything wrong,” he says after seeing your smile falter. “I just see a little room for improvement with the last sequence before the song changes in scene three.”
He gestures for you to get into position in front of him, which you do without hesitation.
Luca moves closer to you and rests a hand on your lower back, “Tighten here and stretch.” He shows you how to position your body to make it look more elegant and elongated. “See how much longer you look now?” His eyes meet yours in the mirror. “Hold yourself like this through the rest of the dance. Trust me when I say you’ll notice a difference. So will everyone else.”
A blush creeps up your neck when his hand slides across your hip before he steps away from you, “Thank you for the tip.”
His eyes burn into yours, and you feel the heat growing in your lower stomach. “Anytime, Y/N.” His lips turned into a small smile, which you returned.
Jimin stalks silently as Luca touches you, his anger bubbling deep down inside him. Fuck, he doesn’t exactly want you, but he definitely doesn’t want anyone else to have you either. And he sure as hell doesn’t want Luca touching you like that or giving you those looks; looks that have disguised intentions with ulterior motives behind them.
He wants to tell Luca where to go and how to get there, but he knows better. Not only would it be unprofessional as hell, but Jimin would probably be screwed out of a lot of future events if he tells one of the best choreographers to fuck off.
He forces himself to look away and takes another deep breath, calming down a little before part two of rehearsals starts.
The second half of rehearsals ends sooner than expected, and Jimin storms off before you even have the chance to talk to him about this morning. You sigh, your eyes trailing his fast exit.
“Y/N! I’m heading to the vending machine for a granola bar, want to come with me?” Cat asks. You’re sure that her question has a hidden agenda too, but you go along with it anyway since you’re starving and need to eat something small before your next class.
“Sure, just give me a second to switch out of my pointe shoes.” You don’t like to wear yours for walking since they’re new and still stiff.
“So,” Catalina begins, watching you put the money into the machine. “What was that this morning? And don’t you dare try to say it was just dancing, because I’ve seen 'just dancing’ with Jimin and that was not at all what I saw earlier.”
You groan internally, not wanting to deal with her interrogation. Cat isn’t the type to judge you if you told her that you would’ve fucked Jimin right then if it wasn’t for the fact that you noticed her (and the rest of the dancers). But you don’t want to admit it to yourself.
Saying it and thinking it are two very different things, and you aren’t sure you can come to terms with saying that you want to fuck Jimin. Hell, you have no idea if you will feel the same way in an hour. So you choose to keep it to yourself for now.
“Did something happen between you two?” she asks bluntly.
“No, nothing happened between us.”
“And is that a good or bad thing?” she questions next.
“Good,” you huff, “I think…”
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It’s been another busy few weeks, and things have been going great…until today. To be honest, this is probably the worst dance day you’ve had in years.
“I’m sorry guys, let’s start from the top,” you apologize again for messing up. The scene you’re going over today isn’t complicated by any means, it’s only a transition scene. But your head is elsewhere which, in turn, makes you mess up every couple of seconds.
You're not getting many approving looks from the room. Luca is a little worried, Madam Jamie has pursed lips, and the dancers are severely annoyed with you.
“No, Miss Y/N.  Stop before you hurt yourself.” Mr. Jenson lets out a frustrated sigh. “Kyra, would you stand in for Y/N and show her how it’s properly done?”
You’re embarrassed that it’s gotten to this point. What is with you? You’ve done this sequence perfectly with Jimin this past week, hundreds of times at least. Now with the extra dancers on the floor, you seem to be forgetting it all.
Taking soft, shallow breaths is the only thing keeping you from crying in front of everyone. But they wouldn’t notice. All eyes are glued to Kyra, a senior who had also auditioned for the same role as you, as she dances with Jimin.
They dance beautifully, you can’t deny it, even if you want to. You can’t help but wonder if she would’ve been the better choice for the female lead.
“Thank you, Kyra. Everyone back into position now.”
Kyra walks past you and smirks. You know she’s thinking the same thing that you are. She probably also thinks that she’s capable of sweeping in and stealing your position. Like hell if you’re going to let that happen.
Even so, it’s not your decision to make and you know if you keep screwing this up it’s more than likely to happen.
“Hey, are you okay? What’s your deal?” Jimin whispers once he lines up with you again. The last thing you need is for him to make you feel worse for fucking up.
“I don’t know, it’s not a good day for me,” you whisper back as your eyes fill with tears. You’re completely exhausted, defeated, and disappointed.
“Just dance it off, we all get days like this. Follow my lead, okay? I promise I won’t let you mess up again.”
You nod, blinking back your tears. This is a different side of Jimin than you’re used to. He’s caring and knows exactly what to say to make you feel better.
After shaking off the earlier mishaps, you get yourself together and push through practice, making sure that the first official run-through of the program is a total success. It makes you feel a hell of a lot better than two hours earlier. You can tell that the rest of the group is just as ecstatic as you and Jimin are.
“That was great, Y/N!” he says, pulling you into a comforting hug. “See, all you needed was a little reassurance.”
You’re slightly sad when he pulls back, the warmth of his body is no longer felt. “Thank you for today. I would’ve completely fallen apart without you.”
“Hey don’t worry about it, make sure you get some rest this weekend. See you Monday!” He smiles softly and waves bye. Who knew Jimin had more to him than what everyone else saw?
“Hey, Y/N!”
You turn your head and see Madison, one of the upperclassmen who’s also in the show, walking toward you.
“What are you doing tonight? Some of the girls and I are planning on going out to celebrate our first successful run-through of the show. We’re wondering if you’d like to come?” She leans in a little closer, “We have a fake you can use to get into our favorite club, Wander. We’d love for you to let loose with us.”
Usually, you would turn down any interaction that involves alcohol, especially since you’re underage, but you don’t want to disappoint your potential new friends. Plus it does sound like a lot of fun, and after the practice you just had, you deserve to let loose and relax.
“Yeah, totally! I’d love to come.” Madison smiles and you both trade numbers.
“Okay cool, I’ll text you my address later. We’re gonna get ready at mine before we head out. See you later!” She gives you a quick hug before heading out the door.
You’re secretly excited to hang out with the older girls since you don’t have many other friends in your year. Especially not now with all your free time taken up by rehearsals.
Jimin stands outside the dance studio’s side door, slyly eavesdropping. He makes a mental note to accidentally run into you later. He isn’t sure what’s gotten into him, but he doesn’t want to go without seeing you for two days.
You intrigue him, and after your almost-kiss, Jimin wants to know what your lips feel like for real this time, not just what he has been imagining.
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“What can I get you?” the bartender asks over the pounding music. You have no idea what to ask for; you obviously don’t drink and ordering something from the bar is a little out of your comfort zone since you don’t know what you’re doing.
Madison catches on and takes over. “Five shots of tequila for our group!” she yells while leaning over the bartop so he can hear her.
Oh boy, you don’t know much but you know enough to feel safe assuming tonight will be wild if you’re starting with shots, of all things.
With about a month left until the show, deciding to let loose with the girls is exactly the kind of break you need. Dancing, drinks, and good friends. Looking around, you’re happy to see that you have all three. It’s all a part of tonight’s plan.
What you don’t plan for, however, is seeing Jimin in the middle of the dance floor with Kyra all over him. After practice today, this is a total slap in the face.
You aren’t sure if the progress you’ve been making with Jimin is just one-sided, or if you had been imagining it this whole time. It feels like you’re both taking two steps forward in the right direction and then something like this will happen, sending you ten steps back.
Your eyes are glued to Kyra’s body as she dances with him, her hips moving at the perfect speed. You can’t help but be jealous of her. Not only is she gorgeous and a great dancer, but she also has a way of demanding everyone’s attention in any room she graces. Although, there’s only one person’s attention you want right now, and from what it looks like, you doubt you’ll be getting his anytime soon.
“Oh my god, is that Luca?” Catalina asks with a surprised tone, pointing towards the opposite end of the bar, “No way, it can’t be.”
“It is,” you laugh nervously before looking away. You’re a little worried that he might remember that you’re under the legal drinking age, only by a year, but still. How embarrassing would it be for him to get you kicked out…
“That’ll be $42,” the bartender drones, pushing the over-spilling shot glasses toward your group and happily taking whichever girls’ fifty-dollar bill in return.
You lift your glass along with the others, “Here’s to letting go and having fun!”
The tequila burns the back of your throat but that doesn’t stop you from hollering, “Let’s go dance!”
You pull Madison and Catalina onto the dance floor, coming to an abrupt stop when your back collides with someone., “Oh my gosh, I am so sor–” You pause and stare at the dark-haired man, “Oh. Hi.”
“Hi ladies, I hope you’re not getting into too much trouble tonight,” Luca jokes with a wide smile displayed across his face. He looks gorgeous dressed in all black, the leather jacket tops off his outfit.
“Oh of course not, Mr. Black,” Catalina giggles playfully, “We’re all good girls here.”
He raises his eyebrow which makes each of you giggle, “I’m not so sure about that. Can I buy you all a drink? Or is that a little weird?”
You look around at the girls; they do the same.
“Uh, sure? Madison finally says, breaking up the awkward silence.
Cat and one of her friends entertain Luca’s conversation while they wait at the bar. You slyly peek over your shoulder while dancing, looking for you-know-who. You can’t find him, but you’re happy to see that Kyra has moved on to her next man of the night.
"Hey,” Luca says, walking towards you with an extra drink in hand. “Here you go. Shhh, it’s our little secret,” he says humorously.
You thank him for the drink, nervously swirling the ice with the slim black straw in your cup.
“I’m happy I ran into you,” he begins, “Can I talk to you for a second, alone?”
“Oh, uh, sure!” You nod to Cat, silently saying that you’ll catch up with her later. He smiles and pulls you aside from your friends.
“What’s up?” You ask tensely while Luca grins, running a hand through his hair.
“I just want to tell you how impressed I’ve been with your progress so far, I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you at rehearsals.”
Oh my god.
“Really?” You gape.
“Absolutely,” he reaches for your hand, bringing you closer to him before bending down to plant his lips on yours. You freeze as he kisses you gently, entirely unsure of what to do in that situation.
He quickly pulls back after reading your body language, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Luca,” you say curtly, taking a step back, “I appreciate your tips in class and kind comments, but I think we should keep things professional here. You’re the choreographer and I’m a student...”
“Of course, I apologize again. How about I walk you back to your friends and we forget this happened?”
“That would be perfect.” You’re thankful that things don’t seem too awkward, and you only hope things will stay that way when you see each other Monday morning.
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Jimin’s fingernails dig into the flesh of his palms as he clenches his fists. Fucking Luca Black. He was heading your way to say hi, but Luca led you in a different direction than the one your friends are heading to. He should have known better, but he follows behind slowly. And what he sees when he finally turns the corner doesn’t sit right with him.
Luca’s hand on your cheek as the two of you kiss. Jimin isn’t exactly sure who initiated it. And even though it’s eating him alive, he doesn’t want to know because it pains him either way.
He watches as Luca pulls away, and takes note of your stunned face. Jimin wants to believe that was because you didn’t enjoy it. He can’t hear what you’re talking about, and he truly wants to believe that Luca is making you uncomfortable based on your reaction to the kiss. But that hopeful thought is squashed as soon as you smile and take Luca’s hand, allowing him to lead you to the dance floor.
Jimin is still trying to process what he just witnessed even though you’re both long gone. He steps out of the shadows and throws his drink at the wall, ignoring the sound of the glass breaking behind him. Grumbling under his breath, Jimin takes the closest exit and slams the club door behind him.
He heads home with the hopes that a cold shower will ease his rage, but the cool water running down his back isn’t doing much for his boiling blood, nor is it getting rid of the image of Luca’s lips on yours. And inevitably, he can’t get you out of his head either which in turn results in him masturbating to those thoughts of you … which is anything but calming.
Jimin closes his eyes and imagines that it’s him kissing you, not Luca, and that he’s the one who has you pushed up against the wall. He can practically hear your soft whimpers, the ones you make when you’re doing partner stretches that always have him close to losing it right there in front of everyone at rehearsals.
But it isn’t him who’s stretching with you. His length quivers in his hand as he speeds up, trying to change his thoughts to you aroused in the club bathroom, his hand sliding underneath your dress and slipping into your panties. Jimin throws his head back at the image of you getting all worked up, but once again, it isn’t him that’s driving you wild. It’s Luca.
After the fifth attempt and still failing to picture himself with you, Jimin gives up. He groans, looking down at his length’s angry red tip that’s aching for release. And there’s only one thing that will give him that. You.
But not an imaginary you. The real you. The real you wanting him just as much as he wants you. He doubts that you ever will, not when you can have Luca instead.
Meaning that Jimin is basically screwed.
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Monday is a killer. Jimin has been hateful to you all morning, and you genuinely have no idea why. He seems to be fuming now at the end of rehearsals, compared to the quiet angry vibe he was giving off earlier this morning.
“Hey, great job today Y/n. You’re doing phenomenal. I can’t wait to see this all come to life next week. See you tomorrow!”
“Thanks! Yes, see you tomorrow Luca.” You wave bye while he rushes out of the room, leaving just you and Jimin behind.
Jimin waits until Luca is out of earshot before saying anything. He’s been annoyed all day by your and Luca’s behavior after witnessing the two of you making out in the hallway of Wander.
He’s disgusted, even more so by the afterthoughts of Luca bringing you back to his place and taking advantage of you. Needless to say, he didn’t sleep much this weekend.
“God, you’re such a suck-up,” he criticizes, failing to hold back his evil words. “How special do you think you’re going to feel when the paid help you’re boning doesn’t remember your name the second he moves on to the next school and finds a new student to seduce?”
“Excuse me?”
“You can pretend all you want but I saw you Friday night. With him.”
Oh god…
You shake your head, “Jimin, I can explain–”
“Whatever, waitlist. I don’t want to hear your excuses.” He turns around and internally grimaces, upsetting you isn’t what he was going for. He’s pissed and unfortunately, you’re the only person he can take it out on. It’s a dick move to say things like that, especially since you deserve to be here just as much as everyone else.
Jimin knows he should just let it go, but he can’t help it. It’s been eating him alive all day. He’s pissed that you’re acting like a damn fool because of Luca’s attention. Luca’s eyes hadn’t left your body the entire day.
Fucking perv.
Jimin is more pissed that it’s bothering him so much. He shouldn’t care, he doesn’t–or at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.
Jimin’s words stung, and you’re shaking out of pure anger. “What the fuck is your problem? I can handle the normal stick-up-your-ass behavior but it’s on a whole new level today. Chill out, okay? It isn’t what you think. Nothing happened after he kissed me. Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but it actually made me, like, super uncomfortable and he apologized directly after. We both agreed it wasn’t professional, so piss off Jimin. And even if I did decide to take it further with Luca, it wouldn’t concern you. So stay out of it.” You’re near him when you finish, with crossed arms and eyes glaring.
It’s unbelievable Jimin would make such a comment; the last thing you need is for him to start telling people what he saw.
You know you would be harshly reprimanded for using a fake ID to get into a club, but also for accepting a drink from someone who is a teacher, and especially for kissing that same teacher.
Jimin is just as heated as you are. So his intuition was right that night. His anger only grows, wanting to punch Luca over and over again for making you uncomfortable like that. How could Luca not tell that you weren’t actually into him, but rather idolized him for his contributions to the dance world? How dare he use that against you to pull a move like that?
“Fine,” he growls in your face, totally furious at the situation, and furious with himself for caring this much about it–about you. You’re driving him crazy, even now when you’re pissed with him. It turns him on how strong and defensive you always are, and fuck, he wants to do something about it.
“Fine,” you snap back, taking another step forward as your eyes subconsciously lower to his parted mouth.
In a matter of milliseconds, your lips collide and your hands are all over each other’s bodies. He lifts you into his arms and slams your back into the mirrors. It’s a miracle that they don’t shatter from his force.
You gasp at the contact and Jimin takes the opportunity to shove his tongue further into your mouth. Your legs lock around his waist while you continue to explore each other’s mouths and bodies ravenously.
Jimin pulls away and tugs your leotard down your arms, freeing your breasts from the tight compression.
“You’re so fucking annoying, do you know that?” He snarls before leaving a line of rough kisses along your neck and down your chest. You whimper at the sensation and run your fingers through his hair.
“You’re so fucking loud, do you always have to say so much?” You moan in response.
Jimin is starved for your taste and can’t wait any longer. His hands travel down your side while his lips close over one of your soft peaks, sucking it in between his teeth.
You mewl, crashing your head back against the glass from the sheer amount of pleasure.
Jimin abruptly pulls away and brings his face back in front of yours. “What? Do you have something to say?” he asks with fire in his eyes. But with his lips replaced by his fingers, twisting and tugging, you’re helplessly tongue-tied.
He moves one hand lower and another soft moan escapes your lips, his middle finger dancing dangerously above your panties before dipping into your slickened folds.
Jimin knows exactly where and how to touch you, causing your head to spin. He feels himself hardening watching your face contort in pleasure, and nearly coming in his pants when you slowly lick your bottom lip, pulling it in between your teeth and letting out a long moan in the process.
“Mmm, Jimin,” you cry, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Jimin notices this and instantly pulls away. You don’t get to come that easily. Even though it makes him super fucking excited to see what his touch does to you. God, this is so much better than what he imagined.
You whimper at the loss of his touch, “What the fuck?”
“Turn around,” he demands, his eyes flooding with lust and a dash of something dark. He undresses you rather quickly, leaving your tights and leotard wrapped around your legs.
You decide you aren’t going to let him have all the fun, sneaking a hand back behind you. Jimin grits his teeth in pleasure as your hand slips into his pants. His length twitches in anticipation of feeling you wrapped around him. You pull his member out and lead him between your damp folds, moaning deliciously at the contact.
The scent of your arousal has now filled the room and Jimin can’t hold back any longer. He wants to fulfill his fantasy of taking you hard and fast, right here in front of the mirror. Without a warning he slams himself into you, causing you to lose your breath.
Your back is against him as he relentlessly pounds you from behind. The force of his thrusts are hard and you use your hands as leverage against the mirror to avoid being crushed by him, even though it would certainly be worth it.
Jimin brings a hand up around your neck and holds your head straight so he can watch when you come. You’re close and he knows just what to do.
“Say my name,” he demands, using his other hand to pinch your clit. “Look at me and say the name of the man who’s making you come like you never have before.”
“Jimin, oh my-” The waves of pleasure wash over your entire body, every inch of your skin tingles. You pulsate around him, but he’s not done with you yet.
“That’s damn right.” Jimin twists you around again, lifting you against the reflective glass. He keeps his fast pace, with a fistful of your hair held between his tightening fingers.
“You’re such a fucking slut. Look at you losing it over my cock,” he snarls with a clenched jaw, “I’m gonna fuck you like this until the rest of the class comes in.”
Jimin rams into you with twice the amount of force as before. “I’d make that fucking Italian bastard watch as I take you hard and make you feel this good.” He brings his lips up to your ear and whispers, “He could never,” before harshly biting your ear, sending you completely over the edge for a second time. 
Jimin watches you unfold, your beauty completely mesmerizes him. Your entire body is on fire from oversensitivity while Jimin’s fingers rub your throbbing nub. You watch, completely hypnotized, as he brings his soaked fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean.
“Oh, don’t think we’re anywhere near done yet,” he smirks devilishly, moving his thumb back to your clit and rubbing in crude circles. Your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation, and you can’t catch your breath. It’s too much.
Jimin hisses when your fingernails dig into his shoulders. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re so tight right now.” It isn’t long after those words leave his lips that he’s shuddering inside of you, his release shooting into the depths of your heat.
Your insides coil as you reach the peak of your third and final orgasm. Jimin holds your legs steady as you come hard over his cock, and swallows your moans with his mouth.
He slowly retreats out of you and presses his flushed cheek against yours. You can feel his heartbeat thumping out of control while you both catch your breath.
After a moment, he draws back and lowers you to the ground. You both chuckle at the state of your appearance. “I think I have a towel in my bag, one sec.” He says while tucking himself back into his pants as you readjust your hair, trying to make the whole ’i just had sex’ look a little less obvious.
You’re still breathing heavily when he returns to wipe you clean.
“Mmm,” you hum in total satisfaction, and still a little out of it - if you had to be honest. “I should piss you off more often.”
He gives you a look, “Hurry up and get dressed before anyone sees you.”
You’re the one to smirk this time, “I thought you wanted people to see me?”
“Haha, very funny.”
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“Hurry up, you’re taking too long,” you whine while Jimin attempts to undo his stage pants as fast as he can.
“I’m trying,” he mutters, silently praying when his zipper finally works, “There we go.”
He lines himself up to you and pushes into your center.
You bite your lip to avoid making any noises as he stretches you out. The two of you are in the small storage closet behind the stage; there’s only about an hour or two until the opening night show starts.
Jimin thought you had to be joking at first when you whispered how badly you needed him after you both were dressed and ready to warm up with the rest of the dancers. But much to his delight, you weren’t kidding.
Hopefully, they won’t notice your absence. Who are you kidding, they probably know that you two are fucking. Plus, it’s kind of obvious when both lead roles go 'missing’ at the same time.
At first, he was torn between following you into the tight space–wanting to be in another tight space–and doing what he normally would call the right thing, which was preparing for tonight. But after seeing the look on your face, Jimin was quick to follow you into the closet.
“Shhh, you need to stay quiet,” Jimin grunts quietly with a hand over your mouth, silencing your moans.
You grip his shoulders as he quickens his pace, bringing you both over the edge.
“Holy fuck,” he quietly whines, the sensation of your inner walls clenching his length is addicting. It isn’t long after your sweet release that he’s quivering. He pulls out, knowing you can’t dance with his release filling you. He shudders one last time, his come shoots out and onto the wooden floor below.
You giggle, “Good thing we’re in a place that can clean that up.” you say referencing his load.
He rolls his eyes at your joke and leans in to give you a quick kiss, “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”
“Yes, typically.”
You flatten out your costume and zip each other up, leaving the closet one at a time. You first of course, since you needed to touch up your makeup now. Leaving Jimin behind to clean up his mess.
About fifteen minutes later you meet Jimin backstage to practice, stretch, and chat along with everyone else. The jitters are bouncing off of everyone and you can’t stand still from excitement, a little nervousness too. But mostly excitement.
“Jimin, are you feeling okay? You look a little stiff and tired if I must say…” Madam Jamie mentions after watching him practice a few scenes.
“Nothing to worry about Madam, had a tiring warm-up is all. Not to worry though, I am more than ready for tonight.”
Madam Jamie reminds him how important rest and lots of water are when practicing hard before moving along to the next student.
“Hmmm, what is it that you usually tell me?” You begin, giving him a coy look, “Oh right. 'Just dance it off.’ That should fix your issue, correct?” You look down at his crotch, and back up at him with a twinkle in your eyes.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he says, daring you to go on.
“After our vigorous warmup, I’m sure you do. But we’re going on stage soon. So suck it up, sweetie.”
He can’t wait to make you regret that statement when he teases you later tonight. He had big plans to celebrate. And knowing you, you would love them.
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©shadowkoo 2024. All rights reserved.
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Is this the secret to Glenn's career not being as big as it could be? This theatre nerd won't do roles unless he can have ridiculous hair and wear a Costume.
Evidence: Blackberry, Archenemy, Fargo, this here, Officer Downe, The Hunt, his voice roles on {Unsupervised, Velma, Cleveland Show, Family Guy}, auditioning for space Marvel movies, That '80s Show, The Job, dayman, ...
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what the hell..
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aseaofyoongi · 2 years ago
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just desserts | jjk
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jeon jungkook x reader (f)
genre: one night stand; neighbors; set in the summer cause i miss it dearly.
rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)
summary: jungkook is your next door neighbor who you have only crossed a few words with. however one hot summer day theres a city wide blackout and strangely enough, he shows up at your door w brownies. . and other delights.
warnings: crush culture; mentions of lack of confidence; masturbation (f.); foul language; naughty thoughts; penetrative sex; unprotected sex (wrap it up); dry humping; oral (m. receiving); praise; sub-ish jk!; jk has a huge dick;?brief mention of seokjin and joon; oc is very hørny for jk basically; those fucking gifs of jk w his long hair and glasses inspired this so thank you jeon jungkook; edited but excuse any mistakes please.
word count: 6,3 thousand words
posted: monday - january 30, 2023
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A sixth floor walk up in the middle of the scorching month of July was certainly not fitting on your basis of an ideal home. But after your extensive apartment search always ended with high-priced, rodent infested corners New Yorkers often mistook for apartments, you were happy to shake on the deal for this studio apartment with Seokjin without having to break your piggy bank or burn a staggering hole in your pocket.
“When is the elevator going to be fixed, Seokjin,” you fanned yourself as beads of sweat adorned your white tank top.
“That’ll have to be when I finally win the lotto,” he guffawed from behind the plexiglass square standing between you and his office.
“Very funny,” you mumbled, beginning your journey up the stairs. He didn’t hear you though, instead his focus remained on whichever drama he played on the television.
Kim Seokjin, was the name of a superstar—or so he says. He claims to have attended the Juilliard School for about two years, with dreams of becoming the newest face of Hollywood and all of their high-priced productions. When Seokjin’s dad fell ill, he couldn’t keep up with the demands of keeping so many residence buildings open, he had to close more than half his buildings and just like that, financial strains created a hurdle the size of Mt. Everest in the life of Seokjin. He was left without his dreams, without his father and taking care of a building where the rent was too cheap to gain a profit, making just enough to cover the mortgage.
Normally, you weren’t so exposed to details of your landlord’s lives, but Seokjin was different. He was also your friend.
“I put water bottles around the halfway mark. The last thing I need is a lawsuit over a dead body,” he yelled up as you barely made it to floor two.
“How considerate. I’ll try not to die while you’re on the clock,” it was too hot to continue your journey up. . too hot to form coherent sentences. You just wanted to make it to your apartment and sit in front of the fan for the rest of the day.
“That’s all I’m saying,” you heard.
Once your foot met the landing on the third floor, your eyes desperately scanned for the promise of beverages Seokjin had informed you of, but the small table set-up on the other end of the hallway was completely empty. Leaving behind only the particles of dust and pure oxygen to inhale. Fuck—you actually felt like you were going to pass out. Just three more floors.
You wanted to yell down a snarky remark towards Seokjin but you figured that required too much energy you simply did not have.
Moving to New York was a decision you had made impulsively after feeling like you had overstayed your time in your parents house post-high school. You averted college at all costs because it just wasn’t for you. Lectures seemed like a bore and professors were individuals being paid to legally torture their students so you joyfully averted that nightmare all together. Your immediate option was to get a job, but after many places began getting closed down back home, you found yourself job hopping as a means for survival.
It was not convenient, so you boarded a train to the city that never sleeps in hopes of never looking back. . And you haven’t since setting foot here eleven months ago.
“Just one more floor,” you uttered to no one in particular but the patchy silver handrail and the chipped white walls.
Your apartment was now in your line of vision and the only thing standing between you and the black steel door were just ten sets of stairs. Walking into the building your body was glistening with a thin layer of sweat but now you were drenched, your top was sticking to your skin and the thick beads of dampness rolled down your body like the condensation on soft drinks from fast food places.
Heaving with exhaustion you took a seat on the very last step of the sixth floor, finally you made it but you just needed a minute, just a single minute to catch your breath. The fucking heat was unbearable; intolerable; irregular, you could have sworn the sun inched closer and closer to planet earth as the day progressed.
Initially, you hadn’t heard as much as the squeaky hinges on the door frame, you were too divulged in your suffering from the days heat. Not to mention, your eyes were closed and you were too focused in a state of cooling down before hiding behind the thin walls of your apartment.
“Are you ok?” His voice became trapped in the muggy air surrounding the two of you. The bass in his tone never ceased to make your knees turn to jello, to make your toes curl and to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight.
Was the heat not enough suffering for one day?
“Oh,” you cleared your throat, “I’m fine. It’s just the heat.”
“Yeah, it definitely feels like we were shipped straight to hell today.”
“I don’t know, I think hell might be cooler than this,” he chuckled lightly—you’re foolish stammer and poor excuse of words enlightened him. The sun was still beaming brightly but you swore you saw stars after he had serenaded you so sweetly with the sound of his infectious laugh.
“I think you might be right,” he locked his door and walked past you on the stairs, “have a good day neighbor.”
“You too, Jungkook,” you called after him as he began his way down the unfortunate set of stairs.
Sometimes, you felt as if you’d been blessed as the main lead in the plot of a cheesy rom com, but after today the idea was really cemented in your head. Ok, look. . Jungkook was your hot neighbor, like very hot, unearthly hot, like he was handcrafted by God himself, kind of hot. Furthermore, only you and him resided on the sixth floor, living in a pair of tiny apartments right beside one another. Although that was all you had gathered so far, besides his name, it was enough to fill your head with delusions and daydreams of the man your eyes loved to gawk at every chance you got.
You read him very well, like the everlasting pages of your favorite novel. His silky hair was long and inched over the nape of his neck, he wore specs that sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose accentuating his big doe eyes. Though his features seemed soft his aura was borderline the complete opposite—a silver hooped piercing sat in the right side of his rosette lips while tattoos peeked right out of the sleeves of the white button up he usually wore.
You closed the door to your apartment, removed your shoes and hung your keys on the flathead thumbtack pierced into the wall by the front door.
The apartment felt even more scorching than the bustling sidewalks. After opening all three of the windows you were bestowed to have between your room and the living room, you turned on your fan and walked into the bathroom to draw a much needed cool bath. Stripping off your sweaty clothes, you stepped into the tub. For a minute, you were immersed in the utter silence floating around you—all your ears detected was the distanced whirring fan all the way from your room.
Behind the back of your eyelids, the world was dark and your thoughts brought you back to your encounters with Jungkook on the stairs just moments ago. Your interactions with the boy were usually extended to a whispered, ‘hi’ or ‘hello,’ never as prolonged as it played out today.
In your thoughts, Jungkook strolled by day and night, as you embraced every look, every utterance, every single time he brushed his hair back using his slender fingers. He was the cultivation of your desires and the reason why your heart strummed against your chest a bit harder the days you saw him leaving around 12PM every afternoon.
It baffled you how he always managed to look fucking good every single day—even during the hottest days of the summer, while you looked like vile beast he managed to look so perfect.
. . So fucking perfect.
The faint tingles traveling through your body, caused your skin to form goosebumps. The pulsation of your clit is what really began driving you to clouded thoughts to imagine his hands against you. You imagined the pads of his fingers to be soft mimicking a delicate velvet fabric and while you crumbled under his touch, he would murmur the filthiest of words against your ear.
Those ministrations could be enough to have you coming hard—he wouldn’t even have to fuck you. Shit, even looking at him was enough.
Being away from all of the toys you safely stored in your nightstand, you grabbed the detachable shower head and adjusted the water pressure, prepped your feet up on the rim of the tub aiming it in between your legs in an inevitable attack against your clit.
Your head lulled back in sure bliss as you fed your carnal desires, the only thing missing was him.
“Fuck—” How you longed for him to have you in this position, so sensitive to his sinful doings; so aroused for him. It was like a hunger your fingers, toys and this stupid shower head could not satisfy.
The vibration of his name dripped from your lips like a chant and you felt that bubbling fervor form in the pit of your stomach. Spurts of pleasure rushed out of you so intensely you were overwhelmed by the explosions of fireworks as soon as your orgasm erupted.
When your breath had settled and you finally felt like you could stand, you opted for a quick shower, rushing to get into your pajamas and plopped down on your bed right in-front of the fan for a nap, having your dreams quickly invaded by him.
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Work sucked on Monday afternoons.
All you ever did was stare out of the ticket booth at the movie theater as the few customers who despised the weekend rush came in. Besides, there was rarely anything to occupy your mind with on slow nights like this. You had already sweeped and your co-worker, Namjoon was surveying the screening rooms for any shenanigans the younger crowds could possibly be rattling up.
You always left that up to him—he was the more intimidating one between the two of you anyway.
“Room 5 is a wreck,” Namjoon announced his entrance into the lobby, “I’m gonna go clean up.”
“Walkie me if you need help,” you tapped the walkie clipped onto your belt buckle and he nodded, grabbing the broom and a few rags.
Your stomach grew irritated as you continued golfing down copious amounts of candies but the truth was you were starving and had no time to eat breakfast this morning; let alone make something to bring to work to eat for lunch.
Namjoon was a film major. He was the spitting image of a cliche by the way—his parents wanted him to become a doctor but that wasn’t his passion so he ran away to the city and began trotting up the golden stairs to his dream. You wished you had even an ounce of his determination, he knew exactly where he wanted to go and how to get there while you still stood at the base of the mountain of your life. . unbeknownst on how to tackle it or which way it was to begin your way up to the summit.
There was nothing you had a passion for and quite frankly sometimes you were utterly clueless as to what your purpose was in life.
Had no dreams and no goals to strive towards; nothing extraordinary you expected to blossom in your future. There was nothing, nothing and more nothingness occupying the hours of your days.
“My child,” Seokjin walked in through the glass door, he looked like he'd been chilling in an oven.
“Seokjin,” you narrowed your eyes in his direction, “what are you doing here? I thought you never left the air conditioner in your office plus don’t you hate the movie theater?”
“You’re absolutely correct. The dimmed lighting here is horrid and I deserve better than that. .”
“Of course, you do.”
“But,” he leaned over the counter, “I saw your little neighbor boyfriend leaving the building today and I was fucking gagged.”
“Trust me, Seokjin. I know how good he fucking looks in that white button up. I’ve lived it.”
“No,” he squealed, “He had a black short sleeve shirt today and—”
“Spit it out, bitch.”
“He has a full fucking sleeve,” he squealed.
“No. Fucking. Way.” The pauses in between your words were not placed for dramatic effect—you were in fact attempting to paint a detailed mental image of that sinful man.
How unfair is it that he gets to walk around us mortals with our average looks while he exudes such grand flawlessness.
“Looks like someone owes me fifty bucks.”
The bet. . you had completely forgotten about that.
“I'll pass it over on Friday once I get paid.”
“I told you,” he began, “once a man gets one tattoo they’re usually covered in them.”
“Yea, but he has this soft look to him, you know?” you shrugged, “I thought he might have had a few. But a whole sleeve?”
“Jungkook is a walking juxtaposition.”
“I suppose he is.”
Seokjin sat on the counter emptying a handful of sweets into his palm, “what are you doing eating all of this candy anyway?”
“Uh,” your thoughts were still filtered towards Jungkook. You wanted to see him so bad, “I’m starving and just waiting on Namjoon to finish cleaning room five so I can go on my lunch break.”
“Namjoon as in the buff hottie with the deep voice?”
“I guess.”
“Room five?” You nodded.
“I’ll take one ticket for whatever the fuck you guys are showing right now.”
“Didn’t you say you hated it here?” You printed a ticket to. . you looked down, to the latest minion movie and ripped off the top half, “you complained about the lights or something.”
“Can you just give me a ticket? I need it to execute my master plan,” he rushed your actions in cutting the ticket you had printed, “besides you owe me for coming all the way down here with vital intel about your secret crush.”
“I owe you nothing. I’ll be paying half a hundred for that by the end of the week, remember?”
“Consider this,” he snatched the ticket from your grasp, holding it beside his toothy grin, “your down payment.”
Before you could form a further argument, Seokjin vanished from in front of you and sprinted down the main hallway to screening room five.
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The best thing about your job were the designated days off you had throughout the week. Tuesdays and Fridays were yours to enjoy and while today was Tuesday your schedule was still jam packed with an abundance of errands to complete come the early morning.
You had paid your utility bills, finished your laundry, cleaned your apartment and even set out poultry to defrost by the time you made it back home. It had been a very productive day.
Your last stop was the grocery store.
Oftentimes, you’d wander aimlessly, losing yourself in each aisle wondering about how the better half lives, how much better life would be if you didn’t have to keep incessant reminders of your weekly budgets stamped to the back of your head.
How much easier life would be if money wasn’t such a big determinant in the choices we were forced to make in our day to day lives.
Oh, how much easier life would be.
You only grabbed the essentials for the next couple of weeks including—rice, greens, fruits, water, milk, meat, and a variation of breakfast options.
Temptation roamed in the air as you headed out of the cereal aisle you were face to face with a bakery section where an unhealthy amount of baked goods were sprawled out—practically blaring out your name. All of the delicious delights made your mouth water and you couldn’t help but gravitate deeper and deeper, guided by the aroma of the sweet desserts.
“Neighbor?” It was his earthy voice, the same one you’d only heard vibrate among the walls of the tiny hallway of the sixth floor the two of you shared.
“Jungkook?” You looked up from the brownies and your eyes met his figure, in the same clothes you usually saw him leave his apartment. It was his work uniform, “You work here?”
“Is that judgment in your tone I hear?”
“N-no,” You stammered. Was he fucking with you? He had to be fucking with you. “Of course not. I would never judge—”
“I was just playing, neighbor.” Phew.
“I always come here. How come I haven’t seen you before?”
“I’m usually baking in the back. I was just coming out to set these down,” he held up the dozen cupcakes sitting inside the boxed packaging.
“You bake?” Hopefully, you sounded more stunned than judgemental because you were i. fact stunned.
“I’m an aspiring pastry chef. I go to culinary school,” Jungkook, your beautiful, doe eyed, tattooed, pierced neighbor was also a baker. Ok.
For some reason that made him so much more attractive.
“I would not have been able to guess that even if I tried,” You mentally kicked yourself at the lack of filter in your words. You weren’t trying to offend him and hopefully he does not take it as such.
He chuckled—that’s a good sign, “People tend to simulate that very reaction but you can certainly knock on my door if you’re ever craving something sweet. I promise they are amazing.”
Craving something sweet?
Your thoughts traveled back to the enticing thoughts you possessed a few days ago while you took a bath, the vivid image of the water pressure against your cunt and the pure desire to have him near made you dizzy. And now he was near, just a couple of feet away.
A wave of warmth traveled through your extremities, the pulse on your clit turned to an overbearing throb, you wanted to rub your thighs and alleviate the feeling. But you remembered where you were, in the middle of the grocery store and Jungkook still stood right before you. Nevertheless, you tried to ignore the wetness pooling between your legs; dampening your panties.
“I practically poured out all of the basic details of my boring life. I think you owe me at least something about you.”
“There’s not much to tell,” you shrugged, “but I work at the movie theater down the street if that piques your interest at all.”
“It does. I love movies.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you there before.”
“Well, if I’m honest I haven’t gone in a long time but that’s only because work and school keep me pretty busy.”
The lust streaming through your body doubled to make your heart beat with fondness and you grew endeared in the way Jungkook’s eyes lit up when he talked about his aspirations to become a baker.
“You’ll have a free ticket waiting for you whenever your schedule clears up.”
“Promise you’ll join me when I decide to go.” His words carved themselves into your brain like a permanent tattoo, just as those decorating his arm. The fluttering feeling in your abdomen heightened as a result of the dithers, without being aware of it, that is the effect Jungkook had on you.
“As long as it’s on a Tuesday or Friday.”
“Deal.”
“I’ll see you around, Jungkook.”
“See you, neighbor.”
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Thursday was the worst day of the week so far.
Technically you were supposed to be at work, it was already 4:00PM, but instead you were still home. Even just sitting down in the muggy atmosphere of your in the miniscule space, you were doused, staining your clothes with sweat.
You were not willingly suffering at the lack of mercy the scorching weather subjected the city and everyone in it to, unfortunately the power had gone out. And while usually you had the luxury of a fan to cool down, today you had nothing.
Your windows and front door were left wide open in an attempt to cool down the place and still you felt as if you were sitting inside a fucking oven set to hightest temperature. There was no use.
“Neighbor.” Jungkook called out lightly knocking on the opened door.
Jungkook? Not Jungkook again when you looked like an absolute wreck.
“Hey Jungkook,” he stood at the door frame, a wide grin painted on his lips—he held a to-go box in his hands, “you can come in.”
“Do you want me to shut the door?”
“Sure,” you gave in, it’s not like it was actually doing anything. Besides, the last thing you needed was one of the crazy residents from the lower floors coming to bug you.
Jungkook took a seat next to you on the couch, he wore a sleeveless top exposing all of the ink embellishing his skin, every line, every curve, every word was so intricate and seemed so unique to him.
“I didn���t know you had these many tattoos,” a small fib was a price to pay to not seem like a weirdo, “did any of them hurt?”
“Some did,” he pointed at his tricep, “mainly these and a few others but I have a high pain tolerance.”
“Well, they’re beautiful,” you scanned his arm some more. It was truly like a mural embodying the beauty of art, “were you a singer?” you signaled at the microphone sitting on his forearm.
“I guess you could say that,” he adjusted himself on the couch, his nylon shorts rode up his thighs and you just hoped he wouldn’t notice the way your eyes glanced down constantly. Jungkook didn’t notice though, he was too busy averting eye contact and scratching the back of his head, “My highschool friends and I used to make music. We recorded a mixtape.”
“I need a link to this mixtape. . like now,” You laughed hysterically.
“Oh no, you don’t.”
“Ok, ok,” Again, another surprise from the man you thought you had all figured out—every single day he surprised you more and more, “were you like a vocalist or a rapper?”
“Vocals mostly. I did try rapping once though but I sucked so badly they scratched it off the track.”
“At least they were honest and didn't let you crash and burn in public.”
“You should’ve seen me though. I thought I was the shit.”
Jungkooks giggles were everlasting as he recounted the many times their parents grew exhausted of kicking them out of their garages for their disturbances in the making of their great musical legacy.. He filled the room with vibrance. The longer you sat in the presence of Jungkook the more you were exposed to the colors that made Jungkook, Jungkook. Of course, you were intrigued by the phosphorescent hues allowing them to inch you closer in his direction. Wanting him to spare no details in the adventure of his life.
“What’s that?” you pointed at the packaging box beside him on the arm rest.
“Brownies,” he handed you the box, “I saw you eyeing them when you were at the bakery but you didn’t buy any. So, I figured I would bring you some.”
In your mind, this was his way of saying he was thinking about you—that’s what you chose to believe anyway.
“You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to. Besides, I wanna see what you think of my baking.” Jungkook’s eyes were bigger than usual behind his specs, he fidgeted with the hem of his shorts.
If only he knew, the actual taste of the brownies would hold no significance in your criticism. You would love them anyway simply because they came from him.
“How about we have one together?”
“Yeah?”
You nodded, “let’s go to my room. There’s two windows in there and I’m literally about to pass out from heat stroke out here.”
The two of you sat by each one of the windows, the box of his remaining six hand crafted sweet delicacies sat between the two of you on the nightstand.
“You ready?”
“Yes.”
“1, 2,” the two of you held the chocolaty dessert up to your mouth, “3.”
Even after just one bite your taste buds were enamored.
“What do you think?”
“They’re amazing, Jungkook. You’re an amazing baker.”
“You can call me Kookie, you know.”
You nearly choked after taking another bite, hurdling into a coughing spiral, “that’s so fitting. Kookie the pastry chef.”
“Forget I said it,” he shook his head, laughing.
“Wait, no,” you loved the soft tint of pink dusting his cheeks, “that could be the name of your future shop.”
“Kookie’s Cookies.”
“Kookie’s Cookies,” you confirmed, “and I wanna be credited for the idea too.”
“Better yet, you’ll be my business partner.”
“That’s not a good idea. I’ll eat everything and you’ll just end up bankrupt,” your eyes were set on the congested sidewalks outside your window—everyone was out likely catching a break from their scorching apartments but here you were melting away all at the expense of being in Jungkook’s company just for a bit longer.
“I wouldn’t mind as long as you’re with me.”
Those eight words sent your mind into a spiral, head first into the rabbit hole of your fantasies. You couldn’t really make out if he truly meant what you thought he meant.
“Jungkook. .”
“I mean it.”
“Please don’t make me believe there could actually be something here,” Your voice was low and your thoughts were a scribbled mess. There was not a single coherency in your being at that point in time.
“I’m not lying,” your name tasted saccharine on his tinted lips—much like the brownie he had baked for you, “I like you.”
“Jungkook. .” was all you could muster.
“I’ve liked you from the moment you moved into the building.”
A single strike of thunder traveled down your spinal cord, you felt paralyzed in that moment and his sweet sweet words just continued looping inside the walls of your skull.
You were malfunctioning; shocked.
It’s astonishing how oblivious and just plain stupid human nature can make a person. For the past months, you had concealed the schoolgirl crush you developed on Jungkook and convinced yourself that there was absolutely no way in hell he could like you back.
Your insecurities had deceived you and now you sit here after so long with a thumping beat in your heart, giddy with excitement and lowkey wanting to slap yourself for not having noticed earlier.
“You like me?”
Obviously, he just fucking said that. He nodded.
“I like you, too.” You finally said out loud.
The temperature continued to rise in the small bedroom and between the two of you the heat became unbearable. With each passing second, you could feel the streamline trickles of your sweat cascading down your temples; your entire body matter of fact.
If eyes were the windows to the soul then Jungkook’s chocolate gaze was compelling.
And they were calling out for you so loudly.
“What happens now?” He pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.
“Can I kiss you, Jungkook?”
You caught on to Jungkook’s mannerisms and body language rather quickly within the past hour. For example, he was pretty straight forward with his words yet whenever he spoke his fingers fidgeted with a random object as a distraction, this time it was the black beaded bracelet sitting on his wrist.
He nodded yet again.
Your heaven resided in the comfort of Jungkook’s thighs. You realized it the moment you straddled him. The rich smell of sandalwood was a scent unique to him, so earthy and rich. It was the only thing you ever wanted to smell for the remainder of your time on earth.
After raking your hands through his soft hair you tugged at it a bit, guiding his face up towards you.
“If you want anything from me. You’re gonna have to use your words, Jungkook.”
“You know what I want,” his eyes traced the corners of your lips down to the intricate details, “just kiss me, please.”
There are an abundance of perfect scenarios in life. For one there was the idyllic scene of snowfall on Christmas day; the legendary creamy combination of cookies and cream; then, there was the way your lips danced against Jungkooks, composing a choreography so intricate and beautiful only the two of you could execute it.
You were in a haze, entirely stupefied and addicted to his soft and warm lips. Then, his hands snaked around your waist as he guided you back and forth on his lap. His covered erection rubbed against your clothed slit in a pace so slow, it was agonizing yet delectable. Jungkook pulled away, continuing to lead your movements against him. Your mouth remained agape and you couldn’t help the sounds escaping your lips.
You wanted to pinch yourself, you’d only ever dreamt of this. Was this all a fabrication of your dreams? You hope it wasn’t, it felt so good.
“God, I’ve always wanted to have you like this.” His voice was husk and he spoke in between grunts.
If today was dictated as your last day on earth, you’d die being the happiest woman.
His warm breath fanned your sweaty neck. A tickle ran down your back but you focused on the knot forming at your abdomen.
“I’m so close.”
“Let go for me.”
His commands were sweet like candy and the utters of his guidance to have you crumble on his lap were all you needed to send you over the edge.
“You were so good for me, darling.”
“Call me that forever.” Your knees were sore, your voice was hoarse and you were sweltered from head to toe but you craved more, you grew wetter just imagining what else could arise from this encounter.
“Darling?” You nodded. “Jungkook?” He hummed lightly, opening his eyes and lifting his head from where it rested on the wall.
“Are you tired?”
“I just had a long day yesterday.”
“Can I help you unwind?” your lower lip now tucked under your teeth, “can I touch you?”
“Please.”
Your hands tucked under the hemline of his shorts and underwear. The way you illustrated Jungkook in your dreams was close to what you would imagine a modern Greek God to look like and you quickly realized that was the case when his shirt lifted revealing that he should be the one on display in museums instead of those silly little statues.
Your chin rested on his shoulder, while your hand moved up and down the length of his cock. You couldn’t see it, not yet. But he felt so big in your palm.
The hushed moans and curses leaving him fueled you to maintain at the same pace. Your lips found themselves leaving wet kisses on his already dampened neck.
“Please—please don’t stop,” He was a stuttering mess, his hand was gripping the window still so tightly his knuckles turned white. Hypnotized by arousal Jungkook began meeting your movements, enraptured by his desire for release.
“You’re not being a very good boy, Jungkook,” you whispered in his ear, “besides I thought you were tired.”
“I’ll—I’ll be so good I promise,” he continued fucking himself into your hand.
Jungkook whined as soon as you released his cock from your grip. Instead you tucked off the pesky fabrics covering his lower half, with his help of course, your theories were proven to be correct. Jungkook, your hot neighbor with piercings and tattoos also had a pussy destroyer in between his legs because of course he did.
“There’s only two rules baby.”
“What are the rules?”
“You have to keep your hands to yourself and no coming until I say so. You got it?”
“Yes, darling.”
Opening the last drawer on your night stand you pulled out one of your vibrators and held it up for him to see, “is it ok if we use this?”
“Mhm.”
You shoved it in your pocket for later.
Taking him into your mouth, you began swirling your tongue in circular motions around the head of his cock. His labored pants were hushed and almost inaudible, you would’ve missed them if the two of you weren’t in complete silence.
Licking up and down his shaft you focused on pressing your tongue on the tip, as your hands began working, pumping him where your mouth couldn’t reach. You bobbed your head up and down occasionally, allowing the head of his cock pop in and out of your mouth. Slurp noises began invading the atmosphere around the two of you along with his whimpers. Your pace was fast and there were traces of your saliva coating his length entirely.
“Fuck darling,” his hands were reaching to grasp anything in his path but instead he ended up knocking everything off your night stand. “Y-Your lips were made to be around my cock. You know that?”
Jungkook’s praises were treats for your ego and you made sure to devour them in their entirety. He was a pleasant mess; his hair stuck out in all directions while his lips were swollen and vibrant with a scarlet hue as he kept biting down on them harshly. His glasses were slightly fogged and there were traces of saliva sitting on the corner of his mouth. All you wanted was to continue seeing him lose himself at your mercy.
You reached into your pocket and turned on the palm sized stimulator—you placed it against his balls before hitting the on button, setting off its vibrations. His head fell back and his hips buckled forward, causing you to gag around the majority of cock.
“I’m gonna come,” he cried out.
If anyone would’ve told you having Jungkook’s dick in your mouth would be this heavenly, you would live on your knees in front of him forever. Pleasuring him at every hour of every day but today you had different plans and once again he let out frustrated whimpers as you removed your mouth from around him.
“No—no, darling you’re fucking killing me. I need to come now,” he sounded desperate, “It hurts so bad. I need to come.”
“Don’t worry baby. We’re getting right to that,” you placed a kiss on his forehead.
“Did you bring any condoms?”
He shook his head, “I wasn’t exactly expecting things to go down this route.”
“Are you. .?”
“I’m clean. Are you?”
“I am.”
There was a timid breeze coming in through the opened window, it was enough to cool you down just a bit, well as cool as you could be without a fan.
Bouncing on Jungkook’s dick was even better than having him in your mouth. Sure, you loved the way he became a stuttering mess with the teasing of your tongue but having him deep inside of you, you felt like you were in your own heaven. On a deserted island somewhere with nothing but the swift breeze coming from the palm trees and his touch on your skin.
“You take me so well,” he whispered in your ear but you were too busy consumed by your own pleasure. Hyper focused on the way his hands dug into your waist; the way he swiftly pushed his cock in and out of you.
The sounds of your skin slapping against his blared through the room, as well as your profanities and his words of praise just as before.
Your nails dug into his shoulder as you felt a build up of tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, causing you to arch your back. Seemingly, the way you clenched around Jungkook he seemed to have noticed you were extremely close.
“Come for me darling,” with each word he buried his dick deeper into you.
It was a blissful paradise painted on the back of your eyelids as Jungkook continued to mold your insides with his dick, he was careful but rammed into you with such force, your voice was strained and you couldn’t hold it any longer. You finally came as sights of the beeming sun behind your closed eyes blinded you entirely.
“Come inside of me,” you managed; even more sweaty than how you began, absolutely tired and completely out of breath.
He chanted strings of your name as finally filled you up.
“Please come over more often and bring all of your brownies with you,” you were pressed up against him as he hugged your waist, placing a soft kiss on your head.
“How about we begin by going to that movie tomorrow?” It was so funny to you how Jungkook had practically just split you in two and now he was back to being soft spoken.
“It’s a date.”
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It was now Friday, the power was finally back on around the city and Jungkook followed through on his plans to take you to the movies. The only problem was when you approached the theater you spotted your nosey landlord standing in line right beside Namjoon. “Before you say anything, Seokjin. Please just shut the fuck up.”
“You always think the worse of me,” he placed his hand on his chest, “all I was going to say is my Cupid’s bow is to thank for the two of you finally getting together.”
“In that case, thank you Seokjin,” Jungkook said.
“Don’t thank him.”
“Actually, please do. But the next time yall fuck in my building please keep it down. Just like the walls, the floors are also thin and the fifth floor did not appreciate your day of passion.”
“Seokjin, please go back to your own date,” you hissed, hoping no one else in line heard his little rant, “pretend we’re not here.”
Jungkook’s shame sat in his now red tinted cheeks, you peppered kisses on them to ease him.
“See, they can’t even keep their hands to themselves in public,” you heard Seokjin whisper.
This is going to be an interesting date.
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a/n: this was pretty fun to write but supposed to be out on my birthday a couple days ago but i couldn’t meet the deadline sadly but please enjoy and disregard the smut scene if it’s bad. I tried lol my brain just wasn’t working 100%.
thanks for reading. comments, likes, reblogs and messages are always appreciated. let me know what you think ;)
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jewishbarbies · 5 months ago
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good news though! The actor who plays Superman in the new Superman movie is a Jewish man! David Corenswet is his name, he’s Juilliard trained, and a Jewish man from Philly.
I don’t know if you’re a comic fan like me but a lot of Superman’s mythology is drawn from Jewish faith and beliefs. The character isn't supposed to be Jewish but he's definitely heavily inspired by the creators faith. The characters he was inspired by at his creation were John Carter of Mars, Samson and Moses according to his creators two of which are prominent characters in Jewish faith.
Additionally his original heroic role as a defendant of the oppressed during the 1930s considering what Jewish people were going through was very deliberate. Especially when his role was inspired by the Golem from Jewish faith which is usually a being created from Clay made to protect the innocent, marginalized and oppressed within a society, particularly the Jewish people within those communities. Which is literally what Clark initially did, before settling on his alien origin he was even supposed to be an actual Golem made from newspaper.
Even his name and disguise are Jewish coded with his Kryptonian name Kal-El being Hebrew in origin and his disguise as Clark of slicked back hair hidden in a cap being something that Jewish men often did to hide their curly hair and avoid prosecution.
So while Superman as a character is definitely not Jewish a noticeable amount of his Mythos are inspired by Jewish faith due to his creators being Jewish.
So I think it’s pretty cool that Superman is being played by a Jewish man. Kinda comes full circle, don’t you think?
yesss I’ve been making people angry being happy about it on twitter. i don’t think there’ll be much judaism in the movie but it does look like we’re getting a Real superman and not another grimdark dudebro fantasy, so that’s really good. also heard Christopher Reeve’s son is gonna make an appearance in some way and that makes me happy.
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wintfleur · 4 months ago
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𓈒 ୭ৎ ˖˙ ᰋ ── BITCH , I’M A BRAT !
aka ophelia’s profile
━━━ ❛ miniskirt so cute and I’m bad, baby girl can I smash?
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ᡣ𐭩 BASICS !
name: ophelia lazar  
nicknames: 
pheebs (everyone)
lia (parents)
aunty opie (owen her nephew) 
effy (luke) 
phia (jack) 
heather (seunghan)
birthday and zodiac : April 11th 2002, Aries 
location:
vernon, British Columbia (formally)
manhattan, New York (currently)
ᡣ𐭩 ABOUT ! 
personality: she has a very strong personality, she's very extroverted, but not in an overwhelming way. She’s very confident in herself and her opinions, but she's not full of herself, she's very down to earth. She has a great sense of her humor like her brother and she loves making new friends. Comes off as intimidating to approach because of her resting bitch face, but she's really sweet — I promise! She definitely gives off party girl vibes, she's very playful and flirty, and loves to tease. She’s definitely that popular girl that you're scared to become friends with because she's ‘too cool’ but she's a friendly person. She's very passionate about the things she loves and when it comes to her work/majors she's very serious about it. 
good traits: very passionate, honest and loyal, hard-working, witty, knows how to break tension (awkward or not) just wants to have fun in her life, very much a yolo type of girl, very trustful and reliable, protective of her family and friends, helpful, 
bad traits: obsessive about minor details (mostly with her work and majors), holds grudges, her determination can turn into stubbornness, brutally honest, can ramble on for way to long, scared of commitment in relationships (from bad relationships in the past) she's smart but can be quite oblivious when it comes to people's feelings about her (especially jacks) a little vain tbh (she loves herself okay) 
quirks/traits: raises eyebrows, always keeps eye contact, talks with her hands, hums, drumming her fingers, twirling her hair, flirting, chewing gum
likes: anything batman, getting her nails done, early long walks, the library, shopping, coloring with her nephew, partying, dancing, f1, train rides, her baby aka her car, candles 
dislikes: selfish people, traffic, riding bikes, rude taxi drivers, being talked down to, cheaters 
hobbies: fashion designing, journaling, drawing, thrift shopping, soccer 
fears: being a failure or not good enough, getting her heart broken again, 
strengths: determined, confident, creative, adaptable, attention to detail, 
weaknesses: commitment in relationships, talking about her feelings, having a healthy sleep schedule, self critical, perfectionism, 
languages spoken: english (fluent), korean (fluent), french (fluent), japanese (learning) 
occupation/profession: Dance major (bachelor of fine arts) at juilliard, takes fashion design classes, and is a professional model. 
ᡣ𐭩 RELATIONSHIPS ! 
parents: 
Dave lazar
Karen Lazar 
sibling(s): curtis, jenna, ryan and cory. 
curtis and co: 
Out of all of her siblings she's definitely closest to her eldest brother curtis, they have shared a special bond ever since he held her for the first time. He’s always had this strong sense of protectiveness over her as he's the oldest and she's the youngest. He always did his best to go to every single one of her soccer matches or her ballet recitals and he was always the one to stay up late listening to all her fashion ideas and to give her his opinion on her fashion designs. He takes pride in being her biggest fan. He hates how she lives alone in Manhattan, so he's always trying to convince her to move in with them. He will always see her as his baby sister, no matter how old she is. They are very playful and teasing towards each other, curtis loves to mess with her, messing up her hair and calling her spoiled.
Reanne and ophelia have an amazing relationship, normally ophelia was usually hesitant to become close with her siblings partners, but with Reanne it happened so naturally she couldn't really stop it. Reanne is like a proper older sister to ophelia, she's very motherly towards her as well, always making her favorite meals when she comes to visit them and pampering her. Ophelia is very grateful to have such a sweet and caring sister in law. They often have their own girl nights, curled up on the couch with some sweets and wine as they watch rom-coms all night. She is one of the very few people ophelia trusts talking about her romantic life.  
Owen and Cayden lazar, aka ophelia's little angels, also known as her nephews. Ophelia loves them so much, she promised that she would be the best aunt ever when Curtis and Reanne told her! She was full on ugly crying when she held them both for the first time. She tries to spend as much time as she can with them, she loves babysitting them!! She has some of their toys and clothes at her place so they have things whenever they come over. She spoils them so much, always getting them new things, she absolutely loves dressing them up. There is no denying that they are her little babies, and Reanne and Curtis are so thankful for her and how good she is with them, she is the best babysitter. 
best friends: amber jameson, seunghan & sunghoon park, katsuki kozume, maggie samson, mathieu simoneau, intak seo 
friends: luke hughes, tate mcrae, quinn hughes, john marino, matt rempe 
love interest: jack hughes 
ᡣ𐭩 MORE ! 
scent: she uses a lot of different perfumes, she loves trying out new ones so her collection is pretty big, so perfume wise it's never really the same. She uses rose or coconut body wash and shampoo and conditioner. She likes using the same body products, not really changing up with that. 
outfits: she is very confident and comfortable with herself so she tends to wear more revealing clothes, mini skirts, short dresses, low rise anything, cropped shirts, sweaters and vests, tight off the shoulder tops. But she loves all different styles and she loves trying them out, but those are just some of her main pieces of clothing. She really loves wearing low rise jeans or dress pants with midriff tops. When it's colder she loves layering clothes. Or when she just doesn't feel like getting all dressed up she’ll throw on a short skirt and sweater or some jeans and a top. She has all different kinds of shoes, all different types of boots (cowboy, moto boots, platform chunky boots and more) chunky or platform mary janes, sneakers, heels, she loves them all! She's a big lover of steve madden shoes. 
accessories: she loves accessorizing, she loves anything involving fashion really!! She has a large collection of different types of bags and sunglasses(she loves collecting them), they are definitely her favorite thing + jewelry, to accessorize with. She also has quite a lot of hats, mostly ball caps, beanies and berets. She also really loves utilizing long and thin scarves when she's wearing a short skirt or shorts. She also occasionally will wear a headband, heavily inspired by Blair waldorf. In the colder weather she's almost always rocking ear muffs. She absolutely loves wearing bayonetta glasses, she has so many pairs. Honorable mentions are leg and arm warmers. 
jewelry: ophelia loves jewelry, she's always wearing some! She loves rings, she usually has about four on at a time, small ones, chunky ones, one with crystals or gems, any type of rings really. One ring she is always wearing is a ring that was gifted by her siblings for getting into juilliard. It's a gold band with a mood stone in the middle. She loves layering necklaces. She also occasionally wears anklets and waist chains, it really depends on her outfit. With bracelets she wears all different types, charm bracelets, friendship bracelets, cuff bracelets, again it really depends on her outfit. 
makeup: she's a black eyeliner enthusiast, she doesn't really use foundation, maybe some concealer but that's really it. She loves matching her lip liners with lipsticks/gloss, and loves some highlighter. But she normally just has eyeliner, mascara, eyeshadow and her lips done! (it's different when she has her recitals and her shoots) 
scars: has a two inch long scar on her left ankle from an injury playing soccer when she was 11
sexuality: bisexual 
height: 5’5
piercing(s): one in her lobe and second lobe in both ears, helix (left ear) nose ring (right nostril) 
tattoo(s): she has a red heart on her right underboob. 
face claim: zoi lerma 
ᡣ𐭩 FAVORITES ! 
food(s): new york style pizza, strawberries, cucumbers, muffins, peanut butter and celery, dark chocolate 
drink(s): coffee, redbull, watermelon white claw, water 
color(s): neutrals, black, red
animal(s): cats and penguins 
favorite season: fall/autumn 
bands and artists: rihanna, frank ocean, the weekend, isabel LaRosa, ciara, Arctic monkeys, beyonce, lana del rey, the neighborhood, marina and the diamonds, billie eilish 
show(s): gossip girl, the vampire diaries, h2o just add water, sex and the city 
movie(s): jennifer’s body, kill bill, the amazing spider man, queen of the damned, The devil wears Prada, black swan, hotel transylvania series 
person: owen and cayden lazar and jack hughes 
ᡣ𐭩 BACKGROUND ! 
Ophelia was born on a bright and sunny day that matched perfectly with her energetic personality. She became the youngest of the lazar clan, aka their baby. 
Ophelia was a very energetic and sweet child, she was like a busy bee, and was given the nickname “the wild child” by her family. 
Ophelia started ballet when she was four, her parents and teachers were quick to notice how talented she was at it despite her age. 
She played soccer from age 8 to 11, and she loved the sport, but after she got an injury to her ankle she had to stop playing because she loved ballet more, and she couldn't risk not being able to dance again. 
When she started soccer, she met her best friend amber jameson who was on her team, they became inseparable since then. 
Amber goes to NYU, majoring in computer science. 
She was 12 when she realized that she loved fashion design when she was helping her middle school play with costumes. Curtis noticed her new passion and bought her some supplies for her upcoming birthday. 
Her modeling career started as just her getting pictures taken for her ballet portfolio, and the photographer brought up her modeling for other things professionally. And it just kicked off from there. 
Over the years her modeling career just got better, ophelia modeling for high end brands, she was becoming very sought after. She even walked the catwalk for fashion week when she was 17, 19 and 20 and many other fashion shows throughout the years. 
She gains a large amount of following on social media for her ballet and modeling. Getting several million followers on her tiktok. 
She got accepted into julliard and moved to Manhattan where she lives alone in her loft/apartment. 
She is a dance major but also takes fashion designing classes. 
Was given the nickname “the next model it girl” and is known as one of the most talented and promising ballerinas in the country. 
Has been in many ballet magazines, for modeling and having her own features/interviews 
Started her youtube channel in 2019, and she now has over 5 million subscribers. (she posts a whole bunch of different content) 
ᡣ𐭩 FUN FACTS ! 
when ophelia was 14 she went to south korea for a ballet summer intensive program, she stayed with a sweet and welcoming family. Their eldest son Seunghan, who also went to the ballet training camp, quickly became one of ophelia’s best friends. 
He is one year older than ophelia and also attends juilliard with her as a dance major, they are each other's main partners, and they are roommates! 
seunghan’s younger brother is park sunghoon from the popular kpop group enhypen, ophelia has a great close relationship with him, and she's not aware of the small crush he has on her. 
when ophelia was 16 she was on Jimmy Fallon, where she talked about her ballet and modeling. 
ophelia got in her first relationship when she was 18, his name is Ryan James and he is a fellow model, they met at london’s fashion week. He is almost two years older than her. 
they started dating in may 2020 and dated until april 2022, they broke up at her birthday party when Ophelia looked at his phone and saw that he had been cheating on her for months, using her for clout and money. 
ophelia was absolutely heartbroken, she had to put on a brave front infront of her family and friends for the rest of her birthday, making up some excuse on why Ryan had to leave. 
the last 6 months of their relationship wasn't the best, he was bossy, controlling, insensitive, but she was blinded by the idea of being in love with him and being loved back. 
that breakup was very hard on her and shattered her trust completely in relationships. So ever since then she swore of relationships, sticking to hookups (safely ofc) 
shes known as quite the wild child and party girl. 
Has been given many nicknames by the public/media/ fans and her fellow peers, here are a few notable ones
juilliard’s it girl
juilliard’s top dancer
juilliard’s resident party girl
mini natalia (nickname give to her by her ballet master)
the next model it girl 
enchantress on stage 
a lot of people talk about her eyes and how captivating and alluring they are, when she dances and models. She loves holding eye contact and seeing how flustered the other person gets. 
seunghan and ophelia are always getting asked if they are dating because of how close they are, but they are just each other's platonic soulmates. 
ophelia loves going out and partying with her friends, but she also loves just being able to relax at home watching movies in the living room or playing board games. 
ophelia is an amazing cook, she loves learning how to make different cultural foods
ophelia and seunghan have a podcast called ‘on pointe podcast’ 
seunghan and amber are always on ophelia's youtube channel. 
ophelia is one of the top students in her fashion design classes, she wants to create her own fashion line in the future. 
ophelia loves traveling!! 
has an addiction to thrift shopping 
she absolutely loves living in Manhattan, she loves all the friends she has made at juilliard and the life she is making for herself. 
she has a reputation at juilliard for being ‘popular’ and a ‘party girl’ many have said she looks intimidating to approach, but she is really friendly and is a social butterfly. 
seunghan is her alarm clock (she has a terrible sleep schedule) 
she loves video games, and she's really good at them too! 
she has over 10 million followers on tiktok 
she spends an ungodly amount of time in the practice room 
has had her fair share of enemies in ballet because they are jealous of her always getting the lead parts, and the way she's favored by the ballet masters (instructors/teachers) 
her dream is to become one of the best ballet dancers of her generation and ever.
ophelia has a very flirty personality, she loves making people flustered. 
she has a very fun and playful personality, but she's very serious about her work and passions. 
she gets invited to a lot of different events and gets sent a lot of PR packages!
swears she doesn't, but she has an addiction to shopping. 
her nickname ‘mini natalia’ , which was given to her by the ballet masters, means a lot to her. They call her that because they can see that she's very talented and dances very similar to the greats, natalia makarova and natalia osipova, two of ophelia's greatest role models. 
she’s very serious about her love for ballet and ways to improve. Many other ballet students have mentioned how intimidating she can be since she's always striving to be the best. 
really wants to get a pet cat! 
she is very talented in all different types of dancing, and she's trained in gymnastics.
she absolutely loves yoga and Pilates (loves forcing seunghan and jack to go with her) 
Her baby is her car, she sadly doesn't use it a lot in Manhattan, but she loves it nonetheless. 
her middle name is heather
she never loses at just dance, has acquired the nickname ‘just dance queen’
ᡣ𐭩 HER OUTFITS AESTHETIC !
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˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( she’s finally here my baby ophelia !! out of all my oc’s she’s the one I’ve worked on the most before posting . I just really want you guys to like her , please tell me what you guys think of her !! I hope you guys soon love her like I do :3 )
au m.list
˖ ་ feel free to send in any thoughts/requests you have !! And please let me know if you want to be added to the taglist mwah
˖ ་ taglist : @yoontwin @toasttt11 @cixrosie @winterbarnesblog @iceflwers
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blueeyeddarkknight · 5 months ago
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Val as Michael (bommi) Baumant in how it all began play in Juilliard 😍 🤤 😵
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Source : Val's fb and the documentary
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Source : lindakozlowski_official on ig
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chastainstuff · 6 months ago
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like or chztain
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cx-boxbox · 6 months ago
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Here's a little extra for the orchestra fic:
"Oscar."
"Yeah?"
Lando tuts as he roots around in his tote bag and fishes his nail clipper out. "I felt them last night, babe. How do you even live like this?"
Face rapidly turning red, Oscar laughs sheepishly and lifts a hand to scratch at the back of his head and then run through his hair. He accepts the clipper gratefully, locating the nearest trash can in the rehearsal space.
"I've always been kinda bad at remembering my nails," he says. "And I kept losing my nail clippers. I think my professor at Juilliard ended up buying me a multi-pack after my senior recital."
Lando rolls his eyes and takes his cello out.
"I mean, I'm only human, Lando... but I have you to remind me now!" Oscar exclaims, beaming at him. He sticks his freshly cut nails out in front of Lando's nose. "Short enough for you?"
"Uh-huh. They're mint."
And Oscar does have a point. Even a super sexy, super talented guy like him can have silly little flaws. Lando is more than happy to stick around and throw nail clippers at his boyfriend's head.
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raisedbythetv89 · 1 year ago
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Listen James didn’t just understand the assignment, he went ABOVE AND BEYOND the assignment and invented his own extra credit work to do. He was showing up to red carpet events in his slutty little tanks with his arms and his messy hair (MESSY HAIR SUPREMACY 😫) and his lil sliver of belly + rings, smirking with his cheek bones and his stupid eyes and jawline having this anti-establishment attitude - absolutely GLEEFUL about the fact that they couldn’t get rid of him because of how much he was loved by fans. Like I know a lot of you hate me and there is NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT ☺️😝🤘🏻🖕🏻🤙🏻
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After being kicked out of Juilliard and really have to carve his own path in the Seattle theater community rather than finding success in NYC or LA - which is much more traditional, receiving so much projected anger and hatred from j*ss and all the other misogynists on the show and his character becoming the black sheep of both his human society circle and his vampire family first, followed by the demon community at large with the chip and the soul he really become the patron saint of outcasts and he knows it and LOVES it and embraces it and because he understands us so well he is amazing at giving us everything we could ever dream of and more and between him and sarah who deeply related to their characters we are so lucky as a spuffy fandom and it just makes me so happy and I feel so grateful 🥰☺️💜
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lowkeyrobin · 9 months ago
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......you already know what....anyway dancer!reader and fuckshit established relationship. Reader has a full ride scholarship to a really popular and well know dance academy but doesn't tell fuckshit because they planned a party to reveal it. Also fuckshit is very supportive of readers dream but he's going through that phase where he feels that he has nothing going for himself....and then you know the crash happens and reader becomes paralyzed from his waist down (i was gonna do from their back down so he grateful lmao <33) and that's when reader and their parents tell the gang about his scholarship and fuckshit just feels horrible.....reader also doesn't want to see him....ilyy
-♣️
♣️ I hate you. you know I know who you are.
FUCKSHIT ; selfish
summary ; you have a full ride scholarship to a dance academy, as gay as it may sound, you wanted to reveal it to your friends after the skate competition, but it didn't go so well
warnings ; language, car accident, mentions of alcohol, & drugs
genre ; angst
word count ; 1.4k
masterlist
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Your mood had been ruined today. You wanted to tell your boyfriend and friends that you'd finally got a scholarship to Juilliard, a dance college, a full ride, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak about it. Stevie and Ruben got in a little fight, Ray wasn't talking to Fuckshit since he was wasted all day and embarrassed him. And you didn't want to talk to anyone now, you didn't want to make the situation any worse.
Fourthgrade sits behind Fuckshit, Ruben next to him, and Ray on the opposite end. Stevie sits in the middle console seat on your left, and Fuckshit in the driver's seat. You sit in the front passenger seat, staring out the window, hoping to God your depressed, drunk boyfriend wouldn't kill you all.
Fuckshit was going through a little phase where he felt like he had nothing going for him, feeling as if he were worthless. All he was living for was partying and drugs, apparently.
You'd been sober for a couple months now, learning that throwing your dreams away because you were mentally unstable wasn't a good idea. You cared about your future while Fuckshit didn't, which started some arguments and fights here and there. You were just worried about him in all honesty, and he'd get jealous that you talked to Ray about the future instead of with him. You needed someone to bounce back on and agree with you, not someone to just nod and half ass listen to you. He was supportive of you and your attempt to make dance your career, but sometimes he didn't know how to properly show it.
You'd been trying to help him find a place in the world, to give him a head start like what you had. You didn't even know what you were doing but you were making an attempt at least.
You imagine you were off at your new school, come two years' time, the new environment, the new people, being able to do the one thing you loved more than skating. It sounded like a dream. It still did, really. All that hard work finally amounted to something, something that you could make yourself out of. You fantasize about your career, yet you're snapped out of it, realizing that leaving everything and everyone you knew was going to be difficult and hurt, a lot.
But now, you listen to Ray, trying to convince Fuckshit to drop you all off at home. You roll your eyes, hearing him mumble something about how you guys weren't gonna ruin his mood.
You turn to the curly haired blonde, tiredness pulling your eyes down. "Dude, stop. Just take us home"
"No! Now you're ganging up on me too?"
"I'm not! Do whatever the fuck you want, dickhead. Just let me out" You speak, unbuckling your seatbelt.
"No!"
"Let me out, right now!" You exclaim, pulling at the handle beside you, seeing the sidewalk right outside.
You hate this, you feel like your parents arguing, your friends acting as you, hiding in silence in the back.
"Pull over, please-"
Your eyes reflect bright headlights, blinding you as you swing your arm over to protect Stevie beside you. Your ears are defeaned by car horns and breaking glass.
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You awaken slowly, nurses standing over you, one rushing in food to place in front of you. You notice your face is all tingly, and your arms and hands are covered in bruises and scratches.
You talk to the ladies before they disperse and grant your friends entrance to the room, which smelt like clorox wipes, the lighting an eerie cool. The others had some cuts and bruises here and there, but Stevie's arm is covered by a cast, signed by the other four.
You almost gasp as you see him, "Holy shit, are you okay?"
He nods with a little smile, "Yeah, I'm good"
You blink a bit, looking up to Fuckshit who's unable to look back at you. You scan the others, their expressions somber.
"What? Did someone die or something?" You question them.
Ray looks at Fuckshit, slapping his shoulder to deem him responsible.
The blonde sighs before sitting down next you on the hospital bed, fitted with light blue sheets with a little white pattern. He fidgets with his fingers before looking back up at Ray, who raises a hand towards you and mouths something to him.
Fuckshit finally looks at you, biting the inside of his cheek. "Y'know that scholarship to Juilliard?"
"How do you know about that?" You quickly question, running a hand through your hair.
His gaze shifts down, "Your mom came in earlier and yelled at me"
"What's it have to do with my scholarship?"
"...You can't go anymore"
"Why not?" You ask, the inflection in your voice becoming more stern.
Fuckshit looks back up at the other boys, then back to you. "Uhm, you're paralyzed from the waist down. Doctors said you probably won't walk again"
Your eyes widen as you stare at him in silence, thinking this was some sort of prank to make you not as mad at him for the accident, you're unable to believe him. He watches as you try to move your legs to a criss-cross position, but they remain straight underneath the blue blanket covering you. You look back up at him, feeling an overwhelming sense of anger building in your chest.
"What the fuck?"
He's silent, staring down at his shoes. "I'm sorry"
"You're sorry? You're sorry? You're fucking kidding me! You are a fucking asshole! You selfish piece of shit, I fucking hate you!" You yell, your voice becoming louder and louder as you shout at him. "You fucking selfish asshole! You stole my dream from me, and you think 'I'm sorry' is gonna help you? You can't fix a broken body with a shit, half-assed apology. It's about time you learned that"
Ray holds Stevie a little close, seeing his uneasiness in the hospital and while you were screaming at Fuckshit.
After a moment, the blonde begins to fight back, and once he gets a sentence or two out of just degrading you and blaming you, Ray pulls him back. Fourthgrade hugs you, letting you cry into his shoulder while the two teens talk in the hallway. Ruben and Stevie sit on the other side of you, doing their best to try and comfort you.
"What the fuck? What the hell?" You quickly sputter, digging your fingers into Fourthgrade's arms to try and sense some sort of reality to make sure this wasn't some sick dream.
Eventually, you calmed down a bit, and the scrawny boy decides to cheer you up a bit, as you'd ask, with the little movie he'd been making the past couple of months. He inserted the VHS into the player under the TV, and watched your expression go from teary-eyed to a light smile.
Ray and Fuckshit walk back in, looking like the typical mother and child who just got scolded duo. Fuckshit stands awkwardly at your side, halfway hiding behind Fourthgrade in case you regain motion in your legs and tried to pounce on him.
Ray begins, watching Ruben replay the VHS on the TV for you. "Fuckshit has something to tell you" He glares over at the blonde, taking notice of Stevie turning the volume down some so you could converse.
You look up at him, unable to really hold eye contact for long.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I got wasted and didn't want to listen to you, and I crossed a major line not letting you out the car and shit... I don't have an excuse for saying all that shit to you a minute ago, but it's not how I really feel, I was... I was just trying to win, I guess" He shrugs, pulling at the ends of his curls a bit. "I know you're never gonna forgive me for fuckin', I don't wanna say mutilate..., like, ruining your life, and that's fine. I just wanna see you happy and succeed and overcome this, and I'm so sorry for taking your dream away, and I am selfish for that-"
"Just get out" You mumble, quickly shutting him up. "Please" You look back down at your fidgeting fingers, resting in your lap. "I need to process shit, okay,? Fuck, I don't wanna worry about this right now"
He nods, stuffing his hands in his pockets before leaving with his head hung low.
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