#and i had to add an extra one in a couple of weeks ago

[cochineal-leviat]

Valentine Special 2025 ships

Heyo, it's already midnight where I am, so Valentine's Day has passed, but I still wanted to celebrate it. Valentine's Day is weird for me because I am Aro&Ace, so I never really get to appreciate it. Every year, it just comes and passes, and I feel nothing, even though I do like the aesthetic.

But this week, I had the brilliant idea that even though I can't celebrate it conventionally, I can still do something for all the pairings and ships I have come to love over the years. So, I drew eleven ships that had helped me during my most challenging moments, from when I was a child to the present. They are ordered in no particular order but rather what I got on paper in my sketchbook.

Idk. Maybe this way me my fellow Aromantics shippers can still enjoy the holiday.

Which ship do you like best? I would love to know~ (even if it is simply from the technical perspective)

From the first panel to the last, we have:

Page 1

Kirfluff (is extra special to me as a fic I wrote for the pairing, including many other franchise characters, which led me to keep writing for fun and posting it online. Without I would not have the boost of confidence that I do now about my writing)

Metadede (Who doesn't love a good ship with a warrior's bond? They're hilarious)

Isafrin (my most recent ship. They make me soft and cry at the same time. Like this pairing adds a lot ISAT's story and manages to also be very entertaining and heartfelt)

Sonadow (I got into the ship before I was even into Sonic. There was even a long-ass fic I found back when I still read on Fanfiction.net that I reread every year because I found it so funny. I definitely enjoy the modern Sonadow writing more than a decade ago)

Snufmin (perfect balance between yearning and the needing space and the freedom to adventure. I want to read more of this ship)

Page 2

Ravioli(nk) (The name alone already makes it worth it. I also have an unholy amount of fics saved from this ship. They are the literal roommates meme)

Vidow (a classic. I enjoyed this one even before I got into Zelda. Like I was reading Four Swords without having any clue what the lore was or what the fuck was going on.)

Reguri (This was named Namelessshipping and Orginalshipping back in the day. Too tired to do research rn. But I think the difference lies in the manga and game versions. I prefer the game versions, personally)

Purpleshipping {Kieran x mc) (A little backstory: this is just the mc from Scarlet and Violet that I made an NB version for, which became their own person after writing a fic. Here, they are exchanging an Applin with Kieran. For those who know the custom, you know, you know. A friend of mine named this ship)

Shadowpeach (the most divorced couple I have ever come across. I remember back when this was considered a crack ship. Ah, good times. The character depictions were very different back then, too. I depicted them in their friend's era, but still. Btw Macaque is laughing at Sun Wukong's antics but I think it accidentally looks like he is laughing at Sun Wukong rather than with him. Oh well, it wouldn't be too out of character for seasons 1-3 Mac)

Marink (not a ship I read about a lot, but it hurt me so much when I played Link's Awakening for the first time. Everytime I think of Marin I feel sad)

[falseroar]

Me, making a sketchbook to make daily drawings in a year ago: ha, this will be a fun challenge, maybe I should really get into the Unus Annus spirit and burn the whole thing when I'm done.

Me, today, flipping through the nearly* full sketchbook: What am I going to do with this. Some of these drawings are too personal to show another living person. Some of these drawings were totally phoned in. That one's actually kind of good, and that one represents a core memory now.

Seriously, what am I supposed to do with this thing? 😭 (And what am I supposed to do now without the motivation to keep doing the daily drawings...?)

*-I drew on both sides of the pages, and there's an odd number of days in a regular year, so I've got the one page left. Also, side note: would not recommend doing this, unless you're okay with the possibility of drawings rubbing off on their opposite numbers. It didn't happen a lot for how many pages there are, but...sorry, Luigi.

[fastandcarlos]

Leo’s Little Love : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: the birth of your daughter was supposed to be the happiest moment for you and charles, but both of you forgot about leo too

Your little family had almost been complete for quite some time. You, Charles and Leo. The perfect trio. Why fix something that isn’t broke? Why add to the chaos of your crazy lives? Well, because you both couldn’t wait to become parents. 

It never was meant to be so soon, neither you or Charles had planned to fall pregnant quite so suddenly but your life had always been mayhem, and pregnancy was just another cog to add to the wheel of things that you needed to juggle together.  

It had been touch and go for quite some time as your baby’s arrival loomed. With just two weeks to go Charles had never been happier to see the start of the summer break which meant at last he could be glued to your side and be there just in case anything happened. 

Being at home was something that Charles very quickly got used to, laid out on the sofa with you tucked into his side. Charles didn’t always get his own way though, with Leo snuggled just underneath your bump to block Charles holding onto it. 

“I wonder how he’s going to be.” 

Your attention was pulled from your book when Charles spoke, following his gaze down to where Leo laid, snoring lightly with his eyes tight shut. 

“What do you mean?” You asked him. 

“I’m just thinking about when the baby arrives, do you think Leo will respond well to not being the centre of our attention anymore?” Charles questioned. 

Your eyes flickered between Charles and Leo and your bump as you pondered Charles’ question. Truthfully, it was something that you had never quite thought about before, but if there was one word that you’d use to describe Leo, it was definitely needy.  

“I think he’ll enjoy having someone else to be around,” you spoke after a few moments. 

“He’ll definitely love an extra body to cuddle up to.” 

It was almost as if he knew that you were talking about him, as Leo’s head lifted up and his wide eyes looked at you both as if to remind you that he could hear everything.  

“You know, I’ve got a feeling that Leo and this baby might just end up being the best of friends, I definitely think we’re going to have trouble on our hands.” 

Ever since that conversation you pictured how your family, or especially Leo, would adapt to the baby, counting down the days until all those dream scenarios became a reality.  

And just a couple of weeks later your little girl arrived. It was tougher than you could have ever imagined, but with Charles not leaving your side for the many hours that you were in labour for, your family was soon complete. Charles was an emotional mess beside you, but through his tears he knew that he’d just experienced the best moments of his entire life. 

You might’ve been a little bit bias, but your baby girl was the definition of perfect. Straight away you were drawn to her bright eyes, a striking resemblance to Charles’. They captured your attention, just like Charles’ had done many years ago when the two of you first met.  

And as Charles held her for the first time and you got your first look at the two of them side by side, you knew you had a daddy’s girl on your hands. She was instantly besotted, settled and comfortable in Charles’ strong hold, almost as if you were the one who was intruding on the moment between your husband and your child despite being the one to bring her into the world. 

“It’s a good job we’ve got Leo otherwise I think I’d be outnumbered at home with you two,” you joked as Charles made himself comfortable.  

You knew deep down though you wouldn’t have Leo for long, as the two of you arrived home with your daughter. It had been a couple of days since he got to see you and Charles, unaware that a new arrival was waiting on the other side of the door to greet him too. 

Together you took things slowly as you returned to your apartment, Charles took Leo into your bedroom whilst you settled in the living room with your daughter. Once you were sure that she was settled you called through to Charles who poked his head out from behind the bedroom door. 

“Are you absolutely sure about doing this now?” Charles nervously asked you. 

“Charles, we’re going to have to do it sooner or later. We might as well get it over with whilst they’re both pretty settled.” 

He trusted you more than anyone, and so Charles decided to open the bedroom door and allow Leo to come out. It was as if nothing was going on as if strolled through the apartment, that was until his eye was caught by the carrier that sat on your living room floor. Charles came over and sat beside you, his hand on your thigh as Leo began to inspect. 

Leo had a little sniff around the carrier as he familiarised with the something new that had entered his home. After giving him a moment you reached into the carrier and lifted your daughter out, holding her just in front of where Leo was. 

It took a little while for Leo to stop fussing over your daughter, looking up at you and Charles. His eyes told the two of you that he approved of your little girl, walking away from her once he was happy with what was going on. 

“See, I told you there was nothing to worry about.” 

Your words were truer than ever though that night as Charles laid on your bed with his daughter laid just beside him. You walked through after taking an overdue shower, surprised to see that there was another addition to your bed. They say that three is a crowd, but not in this case. 

Your heart felt like it could burst as your daughter laid between Charles on her left, and Leo on her right, his head almost touching hers as if to reassure her that he was right beside her too. 

Charles’ eyes knew exactly where you were looking. You were supposed to be annoyed that your side of the bed had been stolen, but instead it was a memory that you wanted to snapshot for the rest of your life. 

You were sure that you had never seen anything so beautiful in your life, Leo had made sure your daughter was well protected and surrounded by love. Even Charles couldn’t get as close to her as Leo was, firmly establishing himself as her number one. 

Just like you, Charles couldn’t fault the scene that was unfolding in front of you though. Things had gone better than either of you could have ever imagined, all of the concerns that Charles had had long been forgotten now that your family of four were all home together.  

“Why do I feel like we’re never going to be allowed near our daughter ever again?” Charles laughed across at you. 

“I think out of the three of us, she’s definitely Leo’s love before she’s ours,” you added, unable to wipe the smile from your face. “I think they’re going to be the best of friends.” 

Charles hummed in agreement with you, tilting his head down to watch them both once again. If he could pause time forever, he absolutely would. It was all that he had ever dreamt of, and so much more. 

“We’ve got the two most beautiful children in the world.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[flemingology]

christmas request - you get sexy christmas lingerie and surprise leah with a lapdance (which inevitably leads to smut)

unwrapping you ─ leah williamson x reader

part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!

in which: you leave leah's best surprise for last

warnings: implied smut (18+), lap dance, language but also a whole load of fluff

wc: 3.9k

a/n: most unrealistic part in this fic is chicken soup and sandwiches being one of leah fav foods (god forbid that woman eats something colored). in other words... how does one write a lap dance????? this is not full-blown smut. i didn't really feel like including that in this series, but i hope i still did your request justice. <3

Your first Christmas with Leah had been perfect.

Your lover woke you up this morning to breakfast in bed, Leah wanting to make use of the fact she finally perfected the one recipe she knew – fluffy pancakes. You thanked her accordingly with a couple fierce kisses that soon turned into way more than either of you had planned, the two of you finally rolling out of bed a good two hours later, messy hair and flushed cheeks a testament to what you had been up to in bed.

You took a warm shower together, and then set foot outside for a light Sunday morning stroll through London's Christmas markets. You walked side by side, one hand occupied with holding Leah's, other hand nursing a hot chocolate. You took your time on each stall, admiring all the handmade ornaments, pieces of clothing and so many other things that were up for sale. You managed not to spend too much, not getting anything more than a small extra present for your sister and a cute little ornament you would add to your table decoration for the team dinner on New Year's Day.

Back home, you made a quick lunch. You heated up some leftovers from the night before, when you made chicken soup and some sandwiches, one of Leah's self-proclaimed favorite dishes that you made. You spent the rest of the afternoon lounging about, gliding from one Friends episode into the other, drifting in and out of sleep in each other's arms on the couch.

It wasn't until evening came around though, that the best part of the day took place. You had kept the best for last; the presents. Normally you weren't one to wait for the evening, but Leah claimed that it would be cozier, and you had to agree. Your apartment was coated in a warm glow from the mood lighting all around, a couple vanilla-scented candles adding to the cozy atmosphere, you and your blonde lover cuddled up on the couch, a pile of unopened presents ready to be attacked on your coffee table.

As promise to one another, neither of you went overboard. Leah had quite the tendency to spoil you, but you wanted none of that. And to your surprise, she actually stuck to her promise. There were 5 presents on the coffee table; 2 for your girlfriend and 3 for you. Unbeknownst to Leah, though, her 3rd and arguably best present of the night, was already unpacked and waiting for her under your layer of clothes.

A couple days ago, while Leah was at training, you ventured out into the busy streets of London for a final surprise for your girlfriend. You were more than happy with the two presents you had at hand, but you couldn't shake the thought in your mind that had been there for the past couple of weeks, to buy a new set of red, lace lingerie – one that you knew would drive her completely nuts.

So with that secret in mind, you and Leah started opening your presents. She insisted you opened the first one.

"For you, my love," she said, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as she handed you the first of her presents, the smallest one. You inspected the envelope, not able to make much from it on first glance. It looked elegant, though, a golden glow coming from the paper. You carefully opened the envelope, revealing a light green card with pastel accents. You couldn't really figure out what it was just yet, but with a little nudging from your girlfriend in the right direction, your eyes lit up as it dawned on you. "You booked us a weekend away?"

Leah nodded, a soft hum leaving her lips. "I know you've been wanting to get away for a little while," she started, taking one of your hands in hers. "I've been busy. You've been busy. But we can take a couple days for ourselves and for us. It'll be nice." Leah had a tentative look on her face, her eyes scanning yours, as if she was gauging whether you were actually happy with this.

Leah was right. The two of you had been extremely busy lately – your girlfriend's football schedule ramping up, and it seemed like the winter months had brought an influx of people wanting to buy estate, leaving you with a tremendous amount of work that you more often than not also took home.

You quickly gave Leah a fierce nod after you realized you got caught up in your thoughts, leaning towards her and pressing a soft kiss against her lips. "Thank you, I love this. I love you. We need it. It'll be good," you mumbled against her lips, your hand cupping her cheek and giving her another peck before you pulled away.

"My turn," you said excitedly. You grabbed the smallest one, a square box delicately wrapped in an elegant-looking black wrapping paper with silver accents. "This looks neat," Leah chuckled, and you bit your lip in apprehension as you handed her your first present. Unlike you, Leah wasn't so delicate with unwrapping presents. She was all ripping and tearing, nothing graceful about her movements. She'd never been a patient one when it came to things like these, and in all fairness, you couldn't blame her. Forever a kid at heart, Leah loved presents.

You got pulled out of your thoughts when you heard a faint gasp escaping your lover's throat. You searched Leah's eyes for any emotion but you couldn't read it, your heart starting to beat a little faster. "Babe, this is...," Leah inspected her present a little closer, "this is gorgeous." She carefully lifted the golden watch out of it's holder and held it in the light, the timepiece brightly reflecting the cozy hue in your apartment.

You'd first gotten the idea when you noticed Leah was online shopping the other day, looking for a new watch. You knew she liked to have a couple, alternating between them based on what outfit she'd wear. She'd been speaking about a new golden one for a while now, the one she had had lasted its time and she wanted a new one. Ever the observer, you'd made a mental note. A perfect Christmas gift.

Leah sported a bright smile, her gaze now pointed towards you. "Thank you, I've been looking at getting a new one, this is perfect," Leah took your hand in hers and gave it an appreciative squeeze, putting the watch back in it's holder and carefully placing the box back on the coffee table. "You could wear it with the black suit you have for New Year's Eve, it'd look really good," you said softly, Leah replying with nothing more than a suggestive wink.

Your blonde lover reached back over to the presents, grabbing a little silver bag and handing it to you. "We're staying in theme," Leah chuckled. You raised your eyebrows at her before your fingers made quick work of untying the knot, revealing a fine, silver necklace with a little L on. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you took in your present, admiring the way it glistened. "I know this seems like I'm basically claiming you, but I wouldn't have bought you this if you hadn't told me about a million times that you wanted one of these."

You let out a breathy laugh, throwing your head back against the couch. "Just for the record, I have no problem with you claiming me." You locked eyes with your girlfriend and saw a little twinkle in hers, to which you surged forward and pressed a firm kiss against her lips. "Thank you. You wanna help putting it on?" Leah nodded eagerly and twisted her body towards yours, clasping the necklace around your neck. Her fingers ghosted over the L that now hung between your collarbones. She kissed your lips once more, lingering a little before she pulled away again and sat upright.

Your next present for Leah was something you knew she'd be over the moon with. Arsenal through and through, your girlfriend had been collecting vintage Arsenal kits ever since you remember. Signed, worn, match kits, training kits, your wardrobe was full with her Arsenal memorabilia. There was one missing though, Arsenal's home shirt from the 2005/06 season, their last year at Highbury. You stumbled across it on Vinted a couple months ago and couldn't believe that it hadn't been picked up yet. The shirt was in perfect state, Thierry Henry's name and number splayed out on the back of it. You paid no mind to the price and ordered it immediately, knowing just how happy your girlfriend would be with it.

You passed her your second present. She felt around a little. "It's definitely clothing." She fumbled around a bit longer with the wrapping paper, before you interrupted. "Le, baby, how about you just open it and see what's inside instead of guessing." Her cheeks blushed a faint red but she complied nonetheless, once again very ungracefully tearing away at the wrapping paper.

Leah's eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she took sight of the burgundy shirt. You couldn't really tell with the lack of proper lighting in the room, but you swear you saw a couple unshed tears in her eyes. She quickly made work of the plastic layer around the shirt, holding it up in front of her. "Check the back," you said softly, reaching out towards your girlfriend and resting your hand on her leg that was slightly bouncing, testament to her excitement.

Leah turned the shirt around and you saw her smile growing impossibly bigger. "Babe, genuinely, what the fuck." You chuckled and shuffled closer to her, leaning your head on her shoulder and admiring the shirt along with her. "Nice one, eh?" Leah turned her face towards you and she cocked an eyebrow. "Nice? This isn't just 'nice', this is incredible," Leah scoffed. She turned the shirt back around, feeling the fabric, checking the label, as if she was still not sure whether this was real. "God, you've outdone yourself, y/n. I can't top this."

A smile tugged on the corners of your lips, pressing a soft kiss against Leah's cheek. "I knew you'd love it." Leah folded the shirt neatly and put it down on the coffee table next to the watch, turning her body towards yours. She cupped your cheeks and pressed a tender kiss against your lips, saying so much more than words could grasp. "You're amazing. I love you so much."

Leah pecked your lips another couple times before she retreated and set back against the armrest of the couch. "If I knew an Arsenal shirt was all it would take for you to be so expressive with you love, I wouldn't have waited this long," you said teasingly, earning a grunt and a playful swat at your thigh from your lover. "I am expressive with my love. Don't start on me!" A light giggle fell from your lips and waved away any further protest by grabbing Leah's hand and pressing a soft kiss against her palm. "You've got one more from me," Leah announced giddily, removing her hand from yours and grabbing the final present from the table. "This one's a bit more... sentimental."

You raised your eyebrows at your girlfriend, trying to read anything into her expression, but failing. "Sentimental...," you pried. "Yeah. Just open it. You'll see." You took the present from Leah's hands, the package laying relatively heavy in your hands. You carefully unwrapped it, each tear of the paper revealing a little more of Leah's final present. Eventually, you realized what it was. A handmade book of the last three years of your relationship. The book was littered with polaroids, screenshots of messages, souvenirs from places you went together, movie tickets, little notes you left for her to find on days you were out the country, and so many more. You could feel a stray tear making its way down your cheek as you scrolled your way through the book, catching it as quick as possible before it could fall on the paper and ruin anything. "Gosh, Leah,..." you mumbled, "sentimental is one way to put it, yeah," you said, muttering out the words past the obvious lump in your throat, sniffling a couple times as the memories unfolded underneath your fingers.

"You like it?" Leah's voice sounded small, and it almost agitated you, because you didn't even know how to begin voicing to her how much this meant to you. Leah wasn't one for the big romantic gestures, nor was she very showy with her affection, so for her to do something like this, to put so much time and effort into handcrafting this, it meant the world to you. You lifted your head and locked your gaze with your girlfriend's, a small frown etched between your eyebrows. "Le, please,..." you breathed, "do I like it?" You scoffed, and shook your head lightly at how ridiculous you found the question. "This means so much to me, Leah, you know that." You felt the blonde nudge a little closer to you, resting her head on your shoulder and looking at the polaroid your fingers seemed to linger on. "Remember that night?" she said softly, pressing a soft kiss against your shoulder.

"Of course I do," you said matter-of-factly. It was a polaroid you'd taken on the first time Leah slept over at your apartment. You'd been over at hers plenty of times, but somehow her sleeping over at yours felt like a step up. She'd come over and brought your favorite Italian take-away. Initially you both insisted on cooking together, but a long day at respectively football and work lulled you both into the comfort of having a meal prepared for you. You lounged on the sofa for what felt like hours, talking about everything and nothing until you settled for watching a film wrapped in each other's embrace. Somewhere during the night, though, you felt like the air had shifted a little. Touches lingered a little longer, kisses were a little sloppier, leading to the first time you made love to one another later that night. It was messy, clumsy and very nervous, but it was perfect. Perfect, because it was yours.

The memories flooded your mind and you couldn't help the jolt of arousal that coursed through your body upon remembering the events of that night. You leaned your head against Leah's, pressing a kiss against her temple. "As much as I would love to look through all of this right now, I've got one last present for you," you said softly, coaxing her head off your shoulder, carefully closing the handmade book and placing it on the coffee table. You tried to ignore the little insecurity that crept underneath your skin when you thought about Leah's final present. Deep down, you knew she'd love it, but you always felt a little apprehensive about things like this. The lingerie was one thing, the lap dance you were planning on giving her a whole other. "Another one? But it's not on the table?" Leah's eyes scanned around the room, clearly confused as to where you could've hidden another present. "It's not there, Le," you chuckled at the expression on her face. "It's upstairs. You stay here, I'll be right back," you put a hand on her chest and gave her lips a chaste kiss, standing up from the couch and making your way up the stairs before she could quip back a response.

You thanked your former self for having already put on the lingerie before Leah came home this afternoon, one less thing to worry about now in your nervous state. You slipped off Leah's your hoodie and sweatpants you'd been wearing, your girlfriend insisting that she wanted you to spend tonight in cozy clothing. You braved a look at yourself in the full-length mirror in your bedroom, and you felt some of the insecurities melt away. You looked good. The lingerie hugged your body in all the right places, accentuating all the curves you knew Leah loved so much. The longline bra was snug around your waist, the lace perfectly outlining the curve of your breasts. The thin red bottoms left little to the imagination, the waistband – accentuated with a little ribbon – just underneath your belly button. They gave prominence to your strong, tanned legs, likely your favorite thing about this set. You gave yourself an appreciative nod and pulled a robe out of your shared wardrobe, draping it over your half-naked body, giving Leah an extra layer to take off. You quickly decided to also pull a pair of red heels out of your wardrobe, putting them on and making your way out of the bedroom before you could doubt your choice of footwear. You stood at the edge of the stairs and took a steadying breath before you started making your way down. The clicking of your heels alerted Leah immediately, not able to delay her seeing you until you were downstairs.

Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in your outfit, and she put her phone down that she was mindlessly scrolling on to pass some time while you were upstairs. You could see a little glint in her eyes as you took the final step of the stairs, making your way back over to the couch at a tantalizingly slow pace. The air had most definitely shifted, Leah's intense gaze locking with yours as you slowed to a stop right in front of her. A smile tugged at your lips and you grabbed Leah's chin between your thumb and index finger, coaxing her face up towards yours and pressing a dizzying kiss against her lips. "I told you I had one final present," you mumbled against her mouth. "Why don't you discover what's underneath this robe?" You softly bit Leah's bottom lip as you let go of her lips, a lust-filled haze now clouding her eyes as she thought about what could be underneath the robe.

Leah's fingers made quick work of the knot tied around your waist, leaving the piece of clothing to fall to the ground, revealing your lingerie. "Oh," Leah's breath hitched in her throat and you would've grown insecure about her reaction if you hadn't seen the twinkle in her eyes. You were hit by a flurry of confidence and you twirled around, shaking your ass a little while your back was facing her before you turned back to face her. "Fuck, babe, this is..." Your girlfriend's words got caught in her throat as she let her eyes rake over your body once more, making sure she wasn't dreaming. You'd worn lingerie for her a couple times, after she had voiced how much she'd love it if you tried a couple sets. But never had it been a thing outside of the bedroom. You'd worn lingerie sets, worn sets underneath robes for her to discover, but it always happened in the comfort of your own bed. This, though, was a next step. A slight blush coated your cheeks as you felt Leah's intense gaze on you. She reached out one of her hands and looked up to you apprehensively, "Can I?" A smile tugged at your lips and you let out a light chuckle. "I'm all yours."

Leah's hands roamed all over your body, from your waist, to your thighs, to your lace-covered breasts, your calves, your ass, your girlfriend didn't leave a spot untouched. It wasn't long before her touches grew needy, and you put a hand against her chest to stop her, not wanting the rest of her surprise to get lost in her own excitement. "Le, wait," you said. Her eyes flicked up to yours, and you noticed how wide her pupils had gotten. A smirk made its way onto your face as to what would happen next. "You've been so good to me. Let me do this for you, okay?" You didn't await Leah's response. Instead you pulled Leah forward a little, and turned your body around, spreading your legs sitting yourself down on her lap. You couldn't ignore the doubts that crept in your mind about what you were doing, because you had never done anything like this. You'd sat on Leah's lap, plenty of times, but you'd never given her a lap dance. You did your research, naturally, you even watched a couple videos – although you had to click those off due to the abundance of secondhand embarrassment you experienced. Either way, you tried to calm your nerves by thinking how much Leah would love this, no matter how good you were at it. She never failed to voice her love for your bum.

Pulling yourself out of your thoughts, you leaned your back against Leah's chest and gave a tentative roll of your hips against her lap. The slight hitch of your girlfriend's breath didn't go unnoticed to you and it gave you the fire in your belly to continue your ministrations. You started grinding your hips against hers in a steady but slow rhythm. You alternated between moves, gently bouncing up and down Leah's lap or popping your hips every now and then, every reaction you pulled out of your girlfriend fueling your confidence. You could sense Leah was a bit unsure as to what to do with her hands, but as the time went on and she felt herself getting more and more aroused, she started guiding your body along with her hands. She aided your movements, pushing you down against her hips, loving the way your behind brushed her core with every gyration of your hips.

A couple moments passed and an idea popped into your mind. You leaned back into your girlfriend, your head resting on her shoulder as you looked up towards her and your gazes locked, a small frown etched on your face that was driving Leah wild. You locked lips with her and you couldn't hold back the breathy moan that escaped your lips at the feeling of her mouth against yours. The kiss was messy, all tongue and teeth, and it perfectly encapsulated the building pressure between the both of you. You tried moving your hips in an eight-figure, which pulled a groan from your girlfriend. "You're driving me crazy," Leah whispered into your ear, softly nipping at your earlobe as she kept her hands firmly on your waist.

You let out a breathy laugh that soon turned into a whimper as Leah's hands moved up towards your breasts, palming them and placing kisses against your back as you rolled your hips back into hers. One of your arms was placed on Leah's thighs, holding yourself up, and you threw the other around your girlfriend's neck, letting your nails rake over the skin on the back of her neck. Your moves grew frantic as you felt arousal building in your core, your gyrations less measured and less precise, the more Leah's hands started to wander all over your body. Any remnants of your earlier insecurity long washed away, you were more than pleased with how your final present for your girlfriend turned out. "God, Le, you feel so good," you breathed out as you let your head fall to her shoulder once again, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. A particularly harsh thrust of your hips against hers caused Leah to groan again, digging her fingers into your sides as she whispered in your ear.

"Bedroom. Now."

[anonsturniolo]

behind the scenes — matt sturniolo

paring — matt sturniolo x f!reader

genre — smut, coworkers to lovers/enemies to lovers

word count — ???

You let out a slight huff, staring at your reflection intensely. It was opening night for the haunted theme park and your makeup wasn’t turning out exactly how you wanted it. Today you were dressed up as a darker clown, your long hair in high pig tails, messy clown makeup that actually took you hours to do.

And now your extra long eyelashes won’t stay on. You rip them off your eyelids, wincing slightly at the sudden pull. Setting them down on the black vanity in front of you, you’re ready to give up.

“Need some help, baby?” A seductive voice whispers into your ear, making you jump in surprise. Your eyes meet Matt’s smug ones in the mirror, and you spin in your chair to face him.

“Jesus, Matt.” You glare at him, your hand shooting out to slap his arm. He just laughs to himself as he takes a seat in the open chair next to you.

Matt had just started working with you nearly 2 weeks ago, right when the season started. The fair you worked for was typically set up for the whole month of October, giving you a break from your “normal” job.

You on one hand loved it, but anytime Matt came around? You questioned why you even liked it here. There was something about him that just got under your skin, maybe it was his cocky attitude. Or the fact he was so undeniably attractive.

Especially in his joker costume.

His makeup was always perfectly messy, his hair brushed back exposing his forehead and letting his blue eyes shine bright in contrast. He never spray painted his hair green, claiming that would just “ruin his look”, but what it really meant was he wanted to look good for the countless of girls he’d pursue.

“I can help you, forreal.” Matt muttered from beside you, and you glanced down at the eyelashes.

You turn to face him with a cocked brow, “And how do you know how to put them on?” You cryptically asked, making him roll his eyes.

“I’ve seen enough girls put them on, don’t see why I can’t figure it out.” He shrugs, before leaning forward with the eyelash in hand. You finally lower your eyes, giving him better access to apply the band as close to your lash line as he could get.

You sit there awkwardly as he fiddles with the eyelash, and although you hate him; your body flushes with heat as you can feel his warm breath fanning across your face. When Matt gently grips your cheeks, turning your head to get a better view, you nearly bite back a moan.

You couldn’t help it, you loved to be manhandled.

“There.” Matt mutters, extending to his full height and admiring his handy work. You turn to face the mirror, surprised when you take a closer look at your eyelashes. They were perfectly applied.

You fight back a frown, refusing to meet Matt’s eyes in the mirror, “Thanks, Matt.” You sigh, shuffling off of your chair now fully ready to venture around the park and get some scares in.

Matt lets out a groan as you pass him, making you turn back to give him a questioning glance, “You look so sexy tonight in that dress, can’t get over it.” He boldly tells you, to which you flip him off and add an extra sway to your hips, knowing he was watching you leave.

“Fucking Christ..”

Confidence surged through you, giggling as you popped out and startled guest after guest. A couple hours had passed, and you were now sat on a bench as you plucked at some cotton candy. You were busy watching a family from a distance as they got scared by someone jumping out of a bush to notice Matt approaching you.

“Hey.” Matt greets you, sitting down beside you and ignoring the glare you sent his way. You nearly forgot about him, and how he was making you feel earlier, but it all came crashing down on you as he placed a warm hand on your upper thigh.

You look from his eyes to his hand a few times, before you turn away from him. You know there’s a cocky smirk on his stupid face, so you know better than to look back to him.

“Just gonna ignore me now?” Matt asks, and you relish in the way he huffs when you don’t give him any attention. Just as you’re about to place another piece of the cotton candy in your mouth, it’s ripped from you grasp completely.

“What the hell!?” You cry out, your eyes finally meeting Matt’s as he throws away the sugary treat in the trash can next to him. “Matt, what the fuck is your issue?”

Matt grabbed your arm firmly, his tight grasp shocking you. He glanced back at you, his eyes flaring with anger. Wordlessly, he dragged you back to the dressing room the two of you were in hours prior.

“What is my issue? What’s your fucking issue?” Matt snarled, his voice deep with anger, “Givin’ me all this sass, ignoring me.” He kissed his teeth briefly, waiting for a response.

You crossed your arms defensively, “I don’t have an issue.” You insist, and you hate the way Matt is staring at you. As if he knew every thought you’ve ever had, like he felt how you were already dripping because of him.

A cocky smirk crosses his lips, he takes a taunting step towards you, “Y’know, I’ve always had a thing for clowns…” he trails off, raising a hand to lightly tug on one of your pigtails. Your breath hitched at his sultry voice, and how his eyes slowly traveled down your body.

“Matt.” You whisper, grabbing the hand that was ghostly tracing your waist, halting his movements, “I don’t wanna be just another girl on your list.” You explain once his eyes meets yours.

“You won’t be,” he insists, twisting his hand in your grasp to hold your hand, “I’ve wanted you for so long…” he trailed off, his eyes zoning in on your lips.

“Those other girls? Never slept with them.” Your surprised eyes meet his, the question on the tip of your tongue, “I only talked to them when you were around, thought I could make you jealous.” Instantly your lips were smashed against his, your hands threaded through his hair and tugging him closer.

Matt let out a soft grunt at the sensation, easily picking you up and placing you on the vanity behind you. The kiss deepened, the two of you hungry for each other. You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, causing you to tug on his shirt.

“Want it off,” you mumbled against his lips, nearly whining at the loss of him as he leaned back and whipped it off. His face paint was smeared with black, due to your makeup.

His lips smashed against yours once again, his hands grabbing at the supple flesh of your thighs. Your hands have a mind of their own, trailing up and down his chest, exploring his exposed skin for the first time.

Matt finally broke the kiss, leaving trails of kisses down your neck as his hands began to bunch up the fabric of your dress. Hastily you shove his hands away, ignoring his confused stare as you slide the garment over your head. You’re left in a black lacy set, and your tights.

“Goddamn..” he muttered, his hands instantly cupping your breasts as he kisses you again. The lust between the two of you poured into the kiss, seemingly to not get enough. Matt’s skillful hands snuck around and up your back, unhooking your bra, and gently taking the straps off your shoulders.

A soft gasp left you once your nipples were exposed to the cold air, your hips slightly bucking in search of relief. You begin to fumble with Matt’s belt to speed things along, and he’s quick to undo his pants and shove them down without breaking away from your lips.

Now left in his boxers, his hands find their way to your chest, tweaking and pulling at your nipples. You moan into his mouth as the pleasure begins to wash over you, your core clenching around nothing.

“Wanna taste you,” Matt mumbles against your lips, making you pull back.

You start to pull down his boxers, “Next time, please, I need you.” You seductively whine, and Matt nearly cums at your tone and pleading expression.

He smirks down at you, his fingers finally making their way to where you need him the most, ghosting over your clit above your panties.

“Y’need me, huh?” He taunts, and you nod your head rapidly in response. With his rock hard cock exposed, you take great pleasure in wrapping your hand around his base, slowly stroking it. When your fingers make contact with his slit, his hips jerk and a moan flies past his lips.

You lean in close to him, “Sounds like you need me too.” Matt doesn’t reply, just threads his hand under the hem of your underwear and pulls, breaking the thin fabric. You were too turned on to care, and you watch as he pulls you forward slightly so he’d have better access.

He removes your hand from his cock, his eyes falling down to your wet cunt, and he begins to slowly rock his hips letting his head bump into your clit. Your head falls back against the mirror, whimpers leaving your lips.

“Please, Matt.” You pathetically whine, lifting your head to meet his eyes. He slowly begins to push inside of you both of your jaws dropping as he bottoms out. The look he gives you is possessive, and his hips start snapping into yours at an animalistic pace.

“Matt!” You cry out once he hits that special spot, so deep inside of you. Your hands dig into his shoulders, causing him to let out deep grunts when he feels your nails pierce his skin.

“Mhm, that’s right baby,” he groans, removing one hand from your hips to rub harsh circles on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. The band deep within you was forming, begging to snap.

“Feels s’good…” Matt trailed off, making you look up at him through watery eyes. His eyes were focused on where your bodies connected, relishing in the way your cunt greedily swallowed his cock.

“G-Gonna cum.” You warned, making Matt look up at you. His eyes searched yours as the end neared, his lips smashing down onto yours in a feverish manner. He wasn’t ready for this to end, but he also knew this wouldn’t be the only time it happened.

“Be a good girl and cum f’me,” he grunted softly, feeling the way your gummy walls clenched onto him, “Cum on my cock baby.” He urged, feeling his impending orgasm near the edge.

“Matt!” You pathetically cry, the band within you finally snapping once Matt placed a firm hand on your lower stomach. Pure bliss washed over you as Matt fucked you through your orgasm, sending shocks of hot pleasure through your shaking body.

“Where do you want it?” Matt groaned, his grip on your hips tightened.

“Inside.” You said whine out, your hands pawing at his shoulders as the pleasure coursed over your body for the last time.

Matt’s thrusts grew erratic and sloppy, a telltale sign he was close. You clenched down rather hard onto him as your orgasm faded, immediately you could feel his release painting your walls white as he continued to fuck into you to ride out his orgasm.

You look up to his face, finally coming back to earth, to see his eyes clenched shut and his jaw slacked as the pleasure consumed him. His hips slowed to a stop, all that could be heard was heavy breathing as you both caught your breath.

“That was…” You trailed off, wincing as Matt slowly pulled out of you. He was quick to grab a towel, gently cleaning you off.

“I’m taking you to dinner tomorrow night.” He spoke without looking up at you, sliding your underwear back on.

You cocked a brow at him, “Are you now?”

Matt stares at you blankly, “Did I not just fuck the attitude outta you? Need more?”

[burntheedges]

Pas de Deux Chapter 9

Din Djarin x f!reader | 2.9k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: Something is up with Din.

a/n: Happy Wednesday! See my notes at the end and on the masterlist about reader in this fic and ballet in general. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!!

chapter tags/warnings: some angst, fluff, touching, dancing, ogling, ballet terms (see end notes and the masterlist for definitions and videos)

Chapter 9

Between the April mixed program and Cinderella, your rehearsals with Din hit a wall. 

You hadn’t been expecting it — things were going so well, and you’d found such ease with each other. Or so you’d thought. But suddenly, only days after your so-called feelings freak out and confession to Adrian, there was a tension between you that you thought you’d gotten rid of weeks ago. Unless it was something new, you worried. Unless it was because of you. You really hoped it wasn’t.

It wasn’t quite like January all over again, but you started to miss each other. You were tense. It was feeling more and more like dancing with a stranger than with the partner you’d gotten to know, that you had put so much time into connecting with. You were growing more and more frustrated at the idea of going backwards. You didn’t want to struggle like that again.

With just one month to go before the anniversary gala, and only Cinderella standing between it and you, you were starting to worry that you’d lost whatever it was that was making this pas de deux work. 

And despite Adrian’s reassurances, you hoped it wasn’t because of the realization you’d had when Din smiled at you. You wracked your brain, but you couldn’t think of anything else it could be. If all of this sudden tension was coming from you, simply because you’d finally given in and named your own feelings, you were going to have to be the one to fix it. But you couldn’t seem to figure out what you were doing differently.

In your next practice, after a couple of weeks of growing problems in rehearsals, Kuiil looked pensive. You didn’t like that he seemed to be frowning. “There is something that is missing. We must find it, before we can move forward.��� He looked between you and Din and you resisted the urge to cross your arms. “There is a barrier between you that we must lower, before we can find success in the third movement.”

You tried to hide your wince. You nodded, and glanced at Din. His expressionless mask was back in place, and you felt your heart drop into your stomach at the sight. 

“I am going to add more practice time for you both, without me. Work through this. I know you will.” He looked at you and, without another word, waved you out. Din crossed the threshold and disappeared down the hall before you could so much as say his name.

…

The next day you hesitantly made your way to the small practice room Kuiil had booked for your extra rehearsal with Din. It was the same one you and Din had had your first real talk in, and you hoped that was a good sign.

When you stepped inside, your hope started to dwindle. Din met you with his expressionless mask in place. It had been so long since he hid from you like that, when it was just the two of you. It put you on edge.

“Hi,” you said, sitting to put on your shoes. “Should we—” talk, you were going to say, but Din interrupted you.

“Let’s start with the third,” he said, voice flat. You frowned but nodded.

“Alright,” you said softly. For a moment you thought he might respond, but then he turned towards the sound system and you could only furrow your brow at his back, wondering what was going on. Now that you were alone and not so focused on your own worries with Kuiil watching, it was like you could see Din clearly. For the first time in weeks. Maybe it’s not just you, after all.

You ran through the third movement once, but somehow it felt even worse than in practice. The choreography for the third was complex – unlike the second, when you circled each other, in the third you were in almost constant contact. You barely stepped away from each other. At times Din was chasing you, at others you guided him. You reflected each other and supported each other, all the while growing closer and closer. 

At least, you were supposed to. You had to be totally in sync to make this choreography work and suddenly it felt wrong, all wrong. You didn’t even make it to the end. About halfway through, as Din was about to lift you, you felt his hands grab your hips in the wrong position and winced. 

Before you could think about it, you said, voice flat, “Stop.”

Din stopped instantly. He’d barely raised you a few inches but he set you down so gently it made you soften.

“Are you ok?” He asked, taking a step back. He sounded concerned, at least, even if he wasn’t showing it in his face.

“Din…” you started, unsure of what to say. “What’s going on?” You settled on the most straightforward question you could think of. “It was going well, but now… it’s like it was before… before. What happened?” You hoped he had an answer for you, and that it wasn’t just because you were letting your silly little crush affect your dancing. 

He looked down and took a deep breath. When he looked back up at you, the mask was finally gone. You sucked in a sharp breath at his expression.

He looked anxious. He even looked a little afraid. 

“Din—” you started, but he shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he started. “It’s… shit. It’s me and I’m just getting in my head again. I thought I could…” he trailed off, and then shook his head at himself. “I’m nervous.”

You tilted your head and stepped closer to him. You wanted to reach out and touch his arm, but you didn’t want him to shy away. “Nervous?”

He met your eyes again, and then nodded. “I… this might sound ridiculous.”

Narrowing your eyes, you shook your head. “I doubt it, Din. It’s clearly bothering you.”

He sighed and looked down at the floor, to your right. “I’ve never… it’s not the dance. And it’s not you.” He glanced up at you without lifting his head and you tried not to think about him looking at you through his lashes. “It’s… the costume.”

You blinked. The costume? You thought back and realized you had been fitted for your final costumes the same week you had your big feelings freak out in the small break room with Adrian. “The costume? What do you mean?”

He turned and started pacing in front of you. His hands were clenched into fists. “I’ve never… CBC was so traditional. All of the costumes, they usually looked like something you’d wear to an old fashioned court. Something with long sleeves and multiple layers and flowy fabric and frills.” He stopped, facing away from you, and you watched as his shoulders slumped. You froze. His shoulders that were covered in a tight, long sleeve black shirt. You suddenly realized that you’d never seen him in anything less than partial sleeves, and only then on stage, in other costumes. You took another step forward as he continued, “it’s been over a decade since I wore anything like that costume, since I’ve been so…” He trailed off without finishing his thought.

Your eyebrows flew upward, and you were glad he couldn’t see the surprise on your face. His costume was much, much different than what he’d just described to you. In the first place, there wasn’t a shirt at all. It was only shorts, really. Very short black shorts. And a bit of body paint.

You blinked. You suddenly thought you might understand the problem.

“Din,” you said, and reached out to touch his shoulder. He turned slightly to look at you, and you saw his anxiety plain on his face. 

“I know,” he said, before you could say anything but his name. “It’s silly. It’s foolish. I feel like a fool. A dancer, afraid of a costume?” He scoffed at himself, and your heart sank. “My job is to perform for people.” He sounded like he was working himself up, and you couldn’t stand it.

You moved around him and, facing him, grasped his shoulders. He looked up at you, startled. “Din,” you said again, and this time you didn’t let him interrupt you. “It’s not foolish to feel uncomfortable in a costume. It doesn’t matter how many you’ve worn before, or how many times you’ve performed. That doesn’t necessarily make you comfortable with every possible costume there is.”

He blinked and opened his mouth, but you kept going.

“You said you haven’t worn anything like this in years, right?” He nodded. “Ok. And what if I told you I was nervous about wearing a costume that revealed what I usually had hidden behind tutus or skirts? Would you think I was foolish?”

He dropped his gaze, but shook his head. 

“No,” you murmured. “You see? It’s ok. I… thank you for telling me.”

For a moment neither of you said anything. When he looked back up at you and thanked you, his face was more open than it had been in weeks. You hadn’t even realized how much he must have been hiding from you until he stopped. 

You smiled at him, and he smiled tentatively back. You started to slide your hands down his arms, to release him, but he caught them both in a gentle grip. You felt your face heat. You were, effectively, holding hands. You tried to ignore it but he squeezed your hands gently.

“You’re right,” he said. “But I… I don’t know how to… get comfortable.” He sounded so uncomfortable at the idea that you winced sympathetically. 

“Well,” you said, “it seems like you don’t want to ask for something different, for the costume.”

He shook his head firmly. “No. I won’t… I want to be different. Now.”

You considered that, and wondered if you could ask. You decided to try. “What do you mean by different? It’s ok if you don’t want to talk about it.”

He looked down. You waited for an answer, and as the silence lengthened, you worried you had overstepped. But then he seemed to nod to himself, and answered, “at CBC there are… rules. A lot of rules.” He paused again and shook his head, still looking down instead of meeting your eyes. “You can probably guess some of them – perfect technique, discipline. It’s all about the group. Individual artistry is not… encouraged.”

You squeezed his hands, trying to offer some sort of comfort since he still wasn’t looking at you.

“Everything is predictable. The roles are always the same, and the only thing that ever changes is the choreography or the staging, not…” he sighed. “Not what a dancer can bring to a role. It almost doesn’t matter who’s dancing it. That’s not really… important.”

You turned that over in your mind. You’d definitely had performances where you felt more exposed in a costume, but it also went hand-in-hand with your own artistry. That had always been part of it, at NBT and where you danced before, even when the choreography was playing with unified movement or group dynamics. You could see how Kuiil’s choreography and now this costume would make him feel exposed. There was nothing to hide behind — it was all on show.

“But it’s important to you, right?” you asked. You were pretty sure you knew what he meant by different.

Din nodded and finally looked at you. His brow was furrowed but his expression was open. “I realized, when we did Giselle – I was Albrecht – that I was missing something. I went to school at CBC, obviously, so they trained me, and then I started with the company when I was 17. I didn’t… I’d never known anything different. I thought we were doing everything the right way. They think it’s the only way. But then we did Giselle, just a couple of years ago, and after one of the performances I met Kuiil.”

You squeezed his hands again in surprise. You’d noticed that he seemed comfortable with Kuiil, and suddenly that made sense. He squeezed back.

“I’d already gotten some negative feedback about my performance from CBC, about everything except my technique. So I thought I was doing something wrong. But I–” he closed his eyes again and you let yourself watch his face as he remembered. “I liked it so much. I felt like I was really telling a story for the first time. That I was playing a character and not just filling a hole. I didn’t know what to think, when it felt so right to me and they thought it was wrong. I think Kuiil must have noticed.” He opened his eyes again and immediately met your gaze. “He approached me after the show and said, ‘there is an artist inside of you that is fighting to reach the surface. You can do more.’”

You smiled, wryly. “Sounds like Kuiil.”

Din laughed, shortly. “That wasn’t all he said. But that’s the part that stuck with me. And from then on… I stopped fitting into the mold, into what they wanted me to be. It wasn’t obvious at first. But eventually no one could ignore it anymore.”

You wanted to ask about that, but Din suddenly stood up straighter and squeezed your hands again. “So… this is hard for me. I don’t have anywhere to hide in this piece. It’s just me out there, so much more than in anything else I’ve ever done. So much relies on what I can bring to it. And now, with this costume…” He shook his head and looked at you.

You thought about that, about suddenly being dropped into such an unfamiliar situation, and you had an idea. “Din, what if we practiced?”

Din looked at you and frowned. “Practiced?”

You nodded. “In these extra rehearsals, when it’s just the two of us. You could… practice. Dance without your shirt. If you get used to it around me, it would probably feel easier on stage. And hey, it’s not just you out there, right? It’s you and me, together. Partners.” When you’d started talking, you’d been certain that this was a good idea. But as you finished, you realized exactly what you’d just done to yourself.

Din’s mouth lifted in that little half smile and you felt your heart rate pick up. “Practice, just you and me. That’s smart. I like it. Ok.”

“Ok?”

He nodded. “Let’s practice.” He let go of your hands and closed his eyes. You watched as he drew in a deep breath. As he let it out, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and, after a pause, stripped it off in one fluid movement. Like he was ripping off a bandaid. 

Fuck. 

You couldn’t help but look. The lines of his chest as he turned and then the strong muscles in his back, all on display for you. Your eyes darted from his biceps to his shoulders to the curve of his waist. He was wearing tights under his sweats and somehow it only emphasized the strength in his hips. 

You were glad he’d turned away from you almost immediately, walking towards his bag to put his shirt inside. You could see your expression in the mirror and swore at yourself. Shit, get it together. You blinked and rubbed your hands over your face. By the time he turned back towards you, you’d rearranged your face into something vaguely neutral. You hoped so, at least.

“Ok?” You asked, trying valiantly not to let your gaze drop to his chest again. His very toned, muscular, attractive, perfect chest. Fuck. He was already nervous, you reminded yourself. Don’t fucking stare. 

Din nodded. He clenched his fists but then released them, shaking out his hands. His shoulders looked a little tense but nothing like before. “Ok.”

You were glad he was ok. You were starting to worry that you might not be ok.

“Great!” You said, maybe a little too brightly. “Let’s try it again.” You turned away from him to walk towards the sound system, needing just a moment again to school your features. Get it the fuck together, you berated yourself silently while you queued up the music. “The third?”

“Yes,” he agreed. By the time you turned around, he was in position and ready to start. You squared your shoulders and joined him. 

As the music started, his body moved in unison with yours, and your heart swelled. Almost immediately it was clear — your connection was back. Clearing the air had torn down the wall between you and it felt so good to be dancing with him like this again. Every movement felt connected and real and you were giddy, so giddy you could almost distract yourself from the fact that his chest was bare before you. Bare for you to touch. 

You couldn’t help but smile as you finished the choreography you’d finalized with Kuiil so far. You turned around to find him smiling, too. “Much better,” you said, grinning. 

Din nodded. “Thank you.”

“For what?” 

His smile softened. “You always know what to do. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You pretended not to notice your face getting hot. “Hey, this is a partnership, Din Djarin. We help each other.” 

He laughed, and you tried not to let it show on your face how beautiful he was when he did.

...

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a/n: aren't we glad they figured that out? lol

Costumes -- so this is maybe the first time in the fic that we might be stretching ballet reality a little bit, lol, but not too much. It's a little bit unrealistic for a company to be so traditional as I describe CBC, but there are definitely companies that are more like that. Many have at least a few contemporary numbers in their repertoire these days, with more contemporary costumes. But it isn't totally wild for Din to have this issue and these nerves if he's been with the same company all his life (and he has -- he went to school there, too). So while he might have been less covered up in rehearsals and such, especially when he was younger, it's just been a really long time (years) since he's been so exposed on stage. And add that to him feeling so exposed about dancing a new style, and well. Also, when I say exposed, I mean something like this. Or this. (for those in the know, they're one of the companies that does covered up men in Le Corsaire, ok?)

Giselle - Din mentions that he was Albrecht in Giselle at CBC. Albrecht is definitely one of the most technically difficult roles for men in ballet, but in most companies, it would also be tough because of the acting required. Giselle is a romantic ballet, and definitely one that CBC does begrudgingly because it's popular and draws in a crowd. It's too emotional for them, all about narrative and emotions, and CBC is all about distance and ethereal technique. Din would have gotten the role at 25, which is seen by some as kind of young for Albrecht! But he got it because of his skill, and then he did too much with it for CBC to be happy. Here's a few versions of Albrecht's famous variation (Simkin, MacKay, Simkin on stage, Bolle, Hallberg) which happens after he visits Giselle's grave and is feeling extremely guilty, and is also pleading for his own life as he dances. In a more emotion-friendly company he's meant to be in agony.

[enha-hype]

first snow ❄️

pairing : idol!euijoo x non idol!reader, established relationship

genre : pure tooth-rotting fluff

summary : surprising your boyfriend at work on a cold winter evening turns extra special as the first snow of the season makes its appearance <3

w.c. : 1.1k

a/n : help i'm so downbad i can't stop writing him. korea having its first snow a couple of days ago and all the idols posting about it inspired me to write this lol

You wait eagerly, your insides buzzing with excitement as you wait for your boyfriend to get done with filming. You hate how busy you’ve both been all week, to the point that you barely got to see each other despite sharing an apartment – you’d leave early for work before Euijoo woke up and then he’d come home late at night after you were asleep. With how cold the weather has been getting lately, you wish you could’ve continued with your cozy evenings and cuddly mornings together but unfortunately work had had other plans.

But it’s finally over now - you and your team managed to wrap up the project you had been working on today and you got to leave early. Euijoo had left for work earlier than he usually did in the mornings, which meant that he’d be done for the day that much sooner as well. Which is why you thought it would be perfect to surprise him.

Even from where you are sitting a good distance away in the car, you can see that he’s freezing, and it’s no wonder because it’s colder than usual today. His breath fogs up the air when he speaks or exhales. You honestly don’t know why his company thought it would be a good idea to have them film outside in this temperature. While you feel bad that he has to do this while you watch from the warmth of the car, you can’t get over how impossibly adorable he looks with all his extremities gone a soft pink from the cold – his ears, his nose, the tips of his fingers. You have to physically stop yourself from squealing every now and then as you watch him because the group’s manager is in the car with you. Whenever Euijoo gets a short break where he doesn’t have to be on camera, he pulls on his huge puffer jacket and shoves his hands into the pockets to warm them up. It makes him look so smol and cuddly and you want so badly to run out to him and you would have if you were allowed. You grit your teeth and tell yourself it’s just for a little while longer.

When he’s finally done and ready to leave, you watch with barely contained delight as the staff point him to the car you’re seated in. He looks a little confused as to why he’s being told to take a different one (he can’t see inside the car owing to the tinted windows) from the rest of his group members. Nonetheless, he obliges, thinking that maybe he has some extra work left to do as the rest of them head back. He tries not to let his disappointment show. He’s the leader, after all. As he’s making his way towards the car, you ask the manager if he would mind stepping out for a bit if he doesn’t wish to be subjected to your PDA. He complies a little too eagerly, making you chuckle. He’s probably still scarred from the time he walked in on the both of you passionately making out. The manager flashes your bewildered boyfriend a knowing smile as he walks past him.

“SURPRISE!” you squeal when he opens the door to the backseat. His eyes widen and he freezes for just a second before breaking out into the biggest smile and immediately scooching in and closing the door behind him. He pulls you into a hug, his arms locking tight around you.

“What are you doing here?” he laughs, delighted. You pull back and enclose both his hands in yours. His fingers are ice-cold.

“Jeez baby, you’re freezing!” You exhale hot air on them and rub your hands against his, hoping the friction will add to the warmth. Euijoo doesn’t mention that he has hot packs he could use in his pocket – he likes this much better. He gazes at you, his heart feeling like it’s glowing. You look up at him, at the warm fondness in his smile and can’t help smiling too. You notice his nose is still pink from the cold and you have an idea.

“What am I doing here? Hmm, let’s see . . . I’m here . . .” You pause to pull him closer and place a kiss on his lips. “. . to . . .” A kiss on his nose. “ . . . warm . .” Lips. “ . . you . . .” Nose. “. . . up!” Lips lips lips.

And that is all it takes for him to melt into a puddle – the man is a blushing, giggling mess. He nuzzles up against you, burying his face in your jacket.

“What, don’t I get any in return?” you tease. He emerges from your jacket immediately and proceeds to smother your face in kisses with his ice-cold lips. “Gahh wait,” you giggle and hold out your hand to keep him from continuing. His brows furrow in confusion, lips still puckered in a half-pout. “Cold lips,” you explain.

“Well clearly they need some more warming up,”

You give him a look as if to say is that so? but wind your arms around his neck and lean in as he does. Your mouths glide against each other’s, warmth against cold, until both of your lips are the same temperature. You run your thumb over his lips. “There. Nice and warm now?”

“Mmm. Nice and warm.”

. ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆

You’re in the parking lot of Euijoo’s favourite cafe, waiting for the manager to return. Euijoo had wanted to get hot chocolate before heading back home, but he fell asleep on your shoulder on the way and you didn’t want to wake him just yet, so the manager offered to go instead.

And it’s as you’re sitting there staring out at the pretty lights outside, basking in the quiet comfort of his presence next to you that it happens – dazzling silver flakes slowly flutter down from above, softly coating everything in a layer of sparkling white – the first snow of the season. It’s beautiful.

As if he somehow sensed it unconsciously, Euijoo stirs awake and smiles sleepily at you.

“It’s snowing!” you whisper-exclaim, squeezing his hand in excitement.

The next minute you’re both out of the car, arms outstretched while trying to catch the falling crystals. Euijoo grabs you all of a sudden, making you squeal. He lifts you up and spins you around, his face beaming as you giggle.

The manager returns with your drinks just then, and Euijoo sheepishly puts you down – although the former doesn’t mind; the parking lot is fairly empty.

“I’ll wait inside, take your time,” he says, handing you both your drinks and getting into the car.

The two of you lean against the side of the car as you continue to watch the snow drift lazily to the ground. The world feels quieter all of a sudden, softer. Euijoo touches his cup to yours and raises a toast.

“To more first snows with you,”

You return the gesture, feeling a warmth spread inside your chest despite the chilly weather. “To more first snows with you,”

« you can read my other works here »

divider credits: @hayatoseyepatch @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[stitchposts]

Heyo! Had two questions - one a little less relevant to your blog but I thought I'd shoot my shot :D

First off, do you have any experience with visible mending using embroidery techniques? Both my denim jacket and favorite sweater are getting worn out after years of constant wear, and I'm unsure how do deal with some of the holes. My main issue is that the very ends of the sleeves are simply... splitting open? Like the fabric got so thin from whatever stress I apparently put it under, it fecking disintegrated. It seems simple enough, straight line on an edge, but I'm worried about messing it up anyway.

And, speaking of my jacket, with it falling apart a little and me seeing more about battle vests and the like, I've been wondering about trying to embroider it, maybe make some patches... I have a bunch of cotton embroidery floss that was gifted to me years ago, but not only have I not embroidered much since learning it in school more than 15 years ago, this is also literally my only (wearable) jacket. The other two are a 10 year old fake leather coat that is peeling itself and also doesn't fit right, and a windbreaker in terrible colors that, if I remember correctly, is too badly damaged for me to know how to easily fix it. Meaning just going ham on it is a big risk. Do I try to find my first new jacket since 2019 and hope to stumble upon one satisfactory in both price and fit? Do I just pray and start fixing up my denim jacket? What else do I need anyway? I got thread and sewing needles big enough to fit it, but nothing else.

Help.

Thanks! <3

This post got kinda long even for me, sorry. First off, this is all embroidery related imo, this is still about stitching on fabric. A square is always a rectangle but a rectangle is not always a square. There's nuance under the umbrella of 'embroidery' here and this counts.

There does reach a point when clothing can't really be repaired anymore, and after that point, historically became rags, or the patches used to repair other clothing. You'll eventually need a new jacket, but if your choice is to immediately find one now or to repair your jacket and buy time to be able to locate one, it seems a bit obvious to me what the option to follow here is, especially if you like the look of visible mending.

This is the part where I wanted to add a cut, but tumblr is glitching out and refusing to add one. So I guess everyone is just subjected to this now. Sorry, and I'll try to have an actual pretty embroidery picture up for everyone to see this week since my furnace is no longer trying to blow up. So: visible mending is at the core applying mending techniques to clothing, and instead of trying to make them invisible repairs, using the stitches or extra material that reinforces the repair to creative visual interest and turn it into a design feature. The stitching itself is done to reinforce the fragile parts of your garment. Sometimes it can be darning, other times it's adhering new fabric to back/cover the fragile parts. It depends on the repair which to use, or even which method the mender prefers. It's not always clearcut and even then, sometimes we prefer doing the thing we know better more than a brand new technique and we bruteforce it to work. So, dealer's choice on darning or patching here, but I'll get to both of them. My opinion of your situation is that you have nothing to lose with trying to repair your jacket that fits you. It's already falling apart, and it's better to stabilize it before it gets worse before there are giant gaps in the fabric. Clean it gently by hand by letting it soak in a bucket or a tub with some ph neutral detergent - do a couple rinses of letting it soak, until the water runs clear and stops smelling foul. Then lay it flat to try on a towel, don't hang it up to dry as that will put more stress on the fabric, I find the shoulders are usually one of the first places to give out on my stuff but I am very broad shouldered. In my opinion, gaps in the fabric at high stress spots like the cuffs should have new backing fabric added to the weak spots, and then the visible mending can adhere that in place. If you were to make new embroidered cuffs you could just sew them on, and protect the integrity of the base fabric, the same way patches do. But you may prefer other options. For darning there's a few ways to go about it. Darning itself is using new threads to weave through the holes in fabric, and stabilizing it past the delicate thin edges of the base fabric. A dear friend of mine lives and dies by her Speedweve loom these days, and I've seen her work with it. She is one of the top 5 trusted fiber artists in my life so I vouch for these looms being cool as fuck and very functional without having used it myself. I also got her this particular book called Darned Easy, by Sally Simon, that I find interesting that has a lot of patterns in it for darning - I grabbed it at a used book store at some point. I messaged her before I made this point because she follows this blog and would know this part is about her. Hi bud. She's the only one who gets to see the rest of the interior of the book, because it was published in 1981 and I'd rather not use this blog to host scans of books that are that recently published.

You don't need a loom for darning if you know what patterns to follow to darn using your needle, and there are a lot of ways to make darning decorative in the manner you want for visible mending, just use your contrasting threads to stand out on the ground fabric. There's also other books available, a HUGE amount of them because darning's existed for millenia, but this is the resource I physically had on hand that I wanted to use as my example so it's the one you get pics of.

On the other end of repairs, you can applique on patches or reinforcing material, then quilt the material into place, with the quilting being the surface embroidery you are pushing through the layers of fabric in order to adhere them into place. Before anyone replies to this op telling them to fucking look up sashiko, please get off my post. I take umbrage with a lot of embroidery designs being referred to as 'sashiko.' This type of repair on existing clothing genuinely is one of the origins of sashiko as a necessity of life - it was that a pattern was laid down on the clothing or items that needed to be repaired or pieced together, and then quilted into place with running stitches that formed the design, which reinforced the clothing and allowed the fibers to be usable for longer. I really despise the words 'sashiko' 'wabisabi' and 'kintsugi' tossed around casually out of historical context by every fucking art blogger under the sun. Fabric was fucking expensive pre industrial revolution, so preserving clothing mattered a lot. Many different cultures have preferred methods (very often extremely regional even within a country) for mending in a manner that is similar to what we know of as quilting or applique today, but there's a certain obsession with anything Japanese in particular that bloggers love to describe as mysterious and wholesome when it's just a visually distinctive fucking way to repair a hole in a garment and quilt things together to make it warm and functional.

Anyway. My first vest I made, it did eventually disintegrate. I knew it would happen because fucking entropy of the universe and so I managed to find a new vest I could afford at the time when I happened across it, and kept it in a back closet till I was ready to transform it into my dragon vest. I repaired that first vest until almost every seam was paper thin and shredding. I loved it a lot. I wore it daily for years and years. I'm still sad I can't wear it anymore, even though I kept my back patch from it, and I still don't know what the fuck I am going to do with that patch. Eventually fabric is destroyed, after many many years of service and wear. Things die. You can't put resin on your embroidery and make it live forever. But when things finally do perish, you can use the base fabric that is still good to make new patches. You get to design and plan a new battle vest or projects you want to start. If you're not sure yet about how badly you'll be hit emotionally by seeing something you put hundreds of hours into disintegrate into nothingness, then hold off on making this particular jacket your battle jacket holding a lot of purchased patches and such, instead of as a test springboard for learning repairs. This is not me being facetious or jokey. It hits people pretty hard to lose, especially the first time this happens. We're humans that hold bonds with things we like, especially things with that much personal hand investment on it. It won't be a failure on your part if you decide to learn repair and extend the life of this jacket, when this jacket does finally bite the dust. It will happen. The accomplishment here is how much service and use you get out of the jacket past when you thought you'd have to throw it away far earlier than if you had learned to repair it.

[worksby-d]

Could you write something about dad's bestfriend!Andy comforting reader after telling her parents they're together didn't go well?

YEP 🫡

Pairing: dad’s best friend!Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Summary: Exactly what the request says ✨

Warnings: Age gap, comfort sex, 18+

Word count: ~1,300

a/n: Look at me sloooowly clearing out my inbox recently 🤭 Two years late, but dbf!Andy never goes out of style amirite girlies! Not sure if this was maybe supposed to tie in with a series back then, it could probably be read as part of A Great Mentor if so ☝️ 

─── ✧

Andy has tried his best to keep you in good spirits throughout the past week. And it’s worked for the most part. You’ve been grateful to be able to spend so much time with him, finally free of the weight keeping your relationship a secret was beginning to put on you. 

But as soon as you have a moment alone or a second without Andy purposely distracting you, you feel like shit deep down, unable to think about anything but the fact that your parents still aren’t talking to you or him.

You've been waiting for a call, or at least a text... Anything.

He has you cuddled next to him tonight as you watch a movie together, but your mind is racing, causing your heart to do the same, panic beginning to set in from dwelling on your negative thoughts.

You lean closer against his side, closing your eyes as you try to relax, but you need to be even closer.

Mustering some energy, you gently and wordlessly move so you’re straddling him, wrapping your arms around him like a koala. His arms hug around you tightly without any questions, and you melt against him, nestling your face against his neck. 

He knows you’ve had a hard couple days. He’s pressing soft kisses to the side of your face and your shoulder, and rubbing your back. 

“I love you,” he whispers, not missing the chance to reassure you. 

“You still love me?” You ask, almost inaudibly, voice muffled as you speak against the fabric of his shirt covering his shoulder. 

“I love you extra,” he says, knowing you need it. “I know this week was hard for you. I’m sorry.”

“After everything?” You continue to press.

“Of course…” His heart breaks. “You didn’t do anything wrong, angel.”

You’d beg to differ right now.

“I feel like I did everything wrong and dragged you with me while I did it.”

He does his best not to laugh at your dramatics. “No one did anything wrong. If I could fix everything right now, I would. But it’ll just take time.”

“I know,” you murmur. You have no choice, your voice would crack if you spoke any louder. “I love you, too.”

He does what he’s best at – Holding you and quieting the nerves that were overtaking you moments ago. 

“I wish I would have been there with you,” he speaks up softly. 

You insisted on breaking it to your parents alone. 

“I don’t,” you assure him with a faint scoff. You find it in you to joke a little bit. “My dad was so angry. I don’t know if you would have lived to tell about it.”

“I know,” he chuckles. “I just...” His voice trails off. He lets it go for now, no use in focusing on what ifs. “Are you ready for bed? We can go upstairs.”

“Not yet,” you say quickly. “Can you just hold me here for a little longer?” You add more quietly, comfortable in his embrace like this. “Please.”

“Yeah, baby.”

─── ✧

When he senses you falling asleep in his arms, he makes the decision for you. The calmest you’ve been the last couple days is when you’re sleeping, so he knows your slow breathing and relaxed weight on top of him means you’ve dozed off. 

He hates to do it, but he carefully pushes off the couch to sit up straighter. He holds you tighter as you begin to wake back up, not wanting you to have forgotten where you are and nearly fall out of his arms. 

“You fell asleep,” he whispers. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Letting out a yawn, you nod sleepily and climb off him. He keeps an arm around your waist to help you up the steps and toward his bedroom.

As he lays you on the bed, you hold your arms around his neck, bringing him down with you. 

“Andy,” you whisper, brushing your nose against his.

Your breath is warm against his lips and he can never resist you. His lips press against yours in a slow kiss, climbing into bed with you. A content sigh escapes him as he gives in completely.

Sharing deep and languid kisses, you subtly roll your body against his, once again plagued by the feeling of needing to be even closer. He doesn’t notice until your hands begin to wander, slipping down to the bottom of his shirt to untuck it from his pants. 

He pauses, reluctantly pulling away from you, just enough to peer down at you. 

“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he says quietly. 

If it’s possible to be too considerate, that’s what Andy Barber is. 

You refrain from rolling your eyes. “It’s not taking advantage if I’m asking for it,” you joke, but there’s desperation in your voice. 

“I know,” he chuckles. “But I know you’re upset–”

“Stop, please,” you ask. Your voice barely reaches a whisper, eyes falling shut to put your all into not letting the thoughts back in your head. “I don’t want to think about it anymore tonight. Help me forget.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, studying your face, waiting for you to look back up at him. 

You don’t answer with words, instead pulling him back down, nodding softly before kissing him again. 

The way your hands roam each other’s bodies is slow, but not calculated. He finally lets you tug his shirt off of him, and his fingers fumble helping you out of your own clothes. 

When he moves down your body, he trails kisses along every inch of your skin, eliciting soft gasps from you, fingers digging into his skin as you grasp onto him. 

He situates himself between your legs, but you reach for his hands to get his attention. 

“Need you closer.” You shake your head, only wanting him on top of you. “Please.” 

He listens, coming back up so you’re face to face again. Your arms wrap back around him, as if you’re scared of him leaving. 

“Relax, pretty girl.” 

His voice is soft and comforting, contradicting the shot of pleasure that courses through you as his cock presses against your center, igniting a wave of warmth that washes over your body. 

You rest your cheek against the palm of his hand that’s cupping your face, letting out a moan, one in unison with him as he sets a steady rhythm. 

He knows your body better than you do, you think sometimes, knowing exactly how to make you come undone, make your eyes roll back, make you see stars. 

His lovemaking is mind numbing. 

You swear you don’t regain your senses until you feel him trying to gently push off of you, but you glide your hands from his sides to rest on his back, silently asking him to stay where he is, needing to feel him close to you longer, while you catch your breath. 

Resting his forehead against yours, he does the same before rolling over carefully, bringing you with him to lay on top of him. 

His chest is definitely up there on the list of most comfortable places to lay your head. Your heartbeat continues to go back to normal as you listen to his against your ear. 

“I love you so much. I never want you questioning that,” he whispers, rubbing your back. He knows you wanted to be done with that for the night, but he needs to do his part in continuing to reassure you. “Okay?”

Tears roll down your cheek and he can feel them wetting his skin as you nod. He’d like to hear you say you believe him, but he’ll take it for tonight.

─── ✧

Tag list: @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @katiew1973 @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby

[winterspiderpurrs]

The post was getting a little long BUT @illogicalkat and @smidnite are so amazing for this!

Previous posts from the last addition done here:

And cause I loved it.... imma add a little more :D

*********************************************************

Steve went to get Sarah; his mom on the phone. She was always a voice of reason with him. He was hopefully she could shed some positive light in this situation.

"-That child has known you practically his whole life. You're his papa. Doesn’t matter what some... DNA test says A leanbh. " her Irish accent became more prominent, the more she talked.

" But a man has a right to his child. I know it's going to be hard. And poor Peter! Having to face that man again! I woulda hit him!"

Steve coughed a little and rubbed the back of his neck.

" Well, uuhh.. no problem there."

" Steve Grant Rogers Barnes! That temper of yours is always getting you in trouble!"

" Ma!"

" Could be making the situation worse."

" I know, Ma, I know..."

Steve could hear her sigh on the other side of the phone.

" Well. Was it at least a good hit?"

Steve laughs and moves back toward the dining room where Peter and Matt are still at.

" Yeah, it was a -"

Clatter.

The phone slipped from Steve's hand as he stared at Peter.

~

While Steve had wondered off to speak to him mom, Bucky had gone back up stares to check on Harley and May after seeing that Tony had gotten in the car and was a long ways away from the house.

Peter gathered up the paper they had, scanning it over to Matt's office for him so he could review it again in Braille once he got it to his special machine.

" I uuhh... have another question since it's just us."

" Of course. What is it?"

Matt tilted his head toward Peter, sensing that he was nervous again.

" I umm read before that you cannot uhh get divorced if your... pregnant?"

Matt blinks.

" Oh,"

Peter nervously gathers the papers and puts the extra copies in Matt's briefcase for him.

" It's not his. Obviously, but umm, I just wanted to be sure."

Matt smiles and shakes his head.

" You're fine. The state of New York lets you. And as he has no rights to you anymore... you're safe. Congratulations."

Peter smiled in relief and pressed a hand to his stomach. Laughing a little.

" Yeah... I just found out last week. Was gonna wait a few more weeks. Before saying anything to Steve and Bucky. This one definitely was an oops surprise pregnancy."

Clatter.

Peter and Matt turn toward the door to see Steve standing there staring. Cell phone on the floor.

" You're pregnant?!?"

Meanwhile, upstairs, Harley is pacing his room. Why would THE Tony Stark be here? Was it for Dads metal arm that Mom helped create? Was it the scholarship program his school had?

Was he coming to expand his art collection with one of Papa's paintings? Mom had gone back to school and gotten his degree and had written a couple of papers. But would that be enough to get Tony Stark's attention?

He looks at the magazines cut out he had of Tony Stark from a few years ago when he was on the cover of Time magazine. Dad had bought it for him while they were in line at the store. He frowns a little. Now recalling the wide-eyed stare his Mom had when he came into the room and saw it the first time. He seemed oddly nervous when he asked where that came from and why he had it.

The look on Tony Stark's face downstairs, he seemed scared, nervous, and hopeful?

He pulled his laptop up and hesitated a moment. Then he started typing away.

' Young Tony Stark photos'

The more he looked, the bigger the pit in his stomach grew.

He felt like he was going to throw up.

Across town, Tony was once again looking through the paperwork and looked at the copy of the birth certificate.

Father spot was blank on it.

But when he saw the name on the certificate, he rushed towards the trash can and threw up. It all just became too much. Everything that he was robbed of. And how much at least at the time of Harley birth that Peter obviously cared for him deeply.

Harley Edwin Anthony Parker.

[formulateez]

1:32am | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

genre: literal pwp, except there is minimal plot, random horny hour drabble prompt(s): "i'm going to fill you up so good and make you mine." and "someone's going to hear us!" summary: classic fwb troupe where y/n and oscar try to fit in a quickie during a sleepover with their mutual friends asleep in the rooms next door word count: ~520

requested?: no, teehee, but i got faded than a hoe a few nights ago and wrote this at like 5am and it's been sitting in my drafts for a little bit because i've been too scared to post it LMFAO there also isn't enough op81 content so i wanted to add to it :) but, please reblog and leave feedback !! (but pls be nice otherwise i will cry)

extras: banners made using template by @/cafekitsune !!

"Oh-fuck, Oscar-" You choke out, your hands running through Oscar's hair as his lips found all the spots that draw out heavenly sounds from you. “Please, Oscar, someone’s going to hear us!” You fail to sound stern as the Australian continues to ravage your neck.

“Fine with me, ‘cuz I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel.” he mutters out in between each kiss that he trails down your front.

It had been a couple weeks since you and Oscar originally made a special friendship agreement. You had invited him over one night to watch a movie or two, and the night ended with his face lodged between your thighs.

Oscar’s mouth and free hand occupy themselves with your nipples, while you buck your hips up to grind against him. “Oh shit, please.” Your plead leaves your lips softly as you ache for him to give you more.

“Please what, baby? Am I making you feel good, hmm?” Oscar hums as he continues to suck on your nipple, while he’s flicking your other nub between his fingertips. “Wanna hear you say it, pretty girl.“

“Yes, yes- fuck, yes. Please, Oscar, more-“ your pleads earn you a slight chuckle out of the guy above you as his fingers find their way to the waistband of your shorts.

“Quite talkative for someone who’s worried about being heard, don’t you think?” His lips are leaving faint marks along your collarbone and the tops of your boobs. Man, does he love seeing the very faint marks peek through the lower cut tops that you often wear during the summer. “You want more? Tell me what else you want, doll.”

As his fingers dip into your waistband, they start to lightly brush over your core as another soft, yet sharp, moans leaves your lips. You grab what you can of his hair and lightly tug him upwards to meet face to face with him. “Fuck- please fuck me, Oscar.”

“Yeah?” Oscar draws his hand out of your shorts as he starts to tug them down, along with your underwear before he throws them off to the side. “You want me to fuck you, hm? Is that what my pretty girl wants?”

“Yes, Oscar, please,” you breathe out, lightly tugging on the hem of his shirt, wanting less barriers between the two of you. “Want you inside me, so bad.”

It doesn’t take long before both of you finish undressing each other, and his lips are finding themselves attaching to your neck once again. His tip is just barely teasing your entrance and he continues to work his way all over your neck and chest.

“I’m gonna fill you up so good and make you mine, princess.” Oscar groans into your ear as he slowly starts to push himself into you, enticing the sweetest of moans from your lips as you savor the feeling of Oscar filling you up as promised.

You both were, in fact, not quiet enough, as Lando was tortured with faintly hearing both of you moan. He quickly threw on his noise-canceling headphones, making a mental note to clown the both of you the next morning.

[juyeonszn]

SACRIFICE (EAT ME UP)

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 9.17k

GENRES horror ﹒ smut ﹒ angst ﹒ fluff ig?

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, mentions of murder, descriptions of crime scenes, mentions of blood, mentions of knifes, graphic description of stab wounds, mentions of potential mental illness, THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS THAT CONSTITUTE WARNINGS BUT ?!1?1 I DONT WANT TO SPOIL !1!2!2, Lots of Kissing, mutual masturbation (f! receiving fingering & m! receiving hand job), pillow talk ig, big dick hyunjae 😈, um unprotected sex lol be safe u silly geese, car sex, cowgirl position yeehaw, creampie, this entire fic is just a whole fucking roller coaster i stg it’s gonna haunt me forever

SUMMARY with a serial killer running rampant on campus, everyone around you seems to be dropping like flies. but, hey, at least you have hyunjae to protect you.

MORE omg.. my first written work for tbz 🙀 extra super fun fact; this was originally an idea i had for hyunjin from skz on my other blog that i actually started writing the week before halloween last year (the reason it’s a horror fic), but i never finished and sort of felt like there was no point in continuing it after a while— that is until i stumbled upon the draft a few weeks ago and decided to revamp, edit, and complete it 😋 i kept going back and rereading and then blanking when i wanted to add to it until last night when i said fuck it and drank two cups of coffee to power through the end 🙌 anyways.. here u all go, my baby that i never thought would see the light of day and my first time writing a genuine horror piece <3 also special shoutout to rina my soulmate @tsukidou for beta reading 🫶

PLAYLIST sacrifice (eat me up) — enhypen, awake — the boyz, roar — the boyz, fever — enhypen, fate — enhypen, taste — stray kids, wake up — ateez, white noise — pvris, heaven — pvris

“Alright, that’s all for today’s lecture. If this was your last of the day, make sure to find someone to go home with and remember the curfew rules!” Your English professor says, concluding the class.

The students around you rush to pack up their things and get off of campus as soon as possible. You don’t seem to be in a hurry, though, taking your time to put away your notebook and laptop. Your roommates were still in their music production class, so you didn’t want to go home alone, deciding to wait until they were done.

“Y/N, don’t you wanna get home?” Professor Park asks, her voice echoing in the now empty lecture hall. She throws the strap of her bag over her shoulder and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“I do, but I have to wait for my roommates. They’re in a class right now and I’d rather not go by myself.” You let out an awkward laugh. She nods at your reasoning, giving you a small smile for comfort.

“Okay, you be careful! I’ll see you on Thursday.”

You raise your hand in a silent salutation, watching as she exits the room, leaving you completely alone. Though a public space, in a public building, the fact that there’s no one else nearby leaves you utterly unsettled. Your stomach churns with a twinge of fear and you start to feel a bit claustrophobic despite being in such a spacious area, so you choose this point to hurriedly collect your belongings and get the hell out of there.

The past couple of months have been in this weird state of limbo. You don’t recall exactly when the killings started, but once the police noticed a pattern, everyone knew sooner or later that the presence of a serial murderer would be announced on the local news. Your town enforced a citywide curfew to protect its citizens, but mostly the students at your university.

Every single one of the killer’s victims were university students. You were friends with a bunch of guys and while it was nice having big strong men surrounding you, you knew that could hardly do anything to quell the lingering anxiety you’ve felt ever since the spree began.

The police seemed to be having trouble coming up with any possible suspects, or even gaining any leads, thanks to the killer’s unusual victimology and the cool down time between murders always varying. If the people in charge of protecting you couldn’t do that, how were you supposed to feel safe?

In an attempt to get to the building where Jacob, Kevin, and Eric were as fast as you could, you speed walk out of the lecture hall, accidentally bumping into someone. You bow at a nearly ninety-degree angle and hurl out apology after apology following the collision, not trying to make any enemies in this day and time.

“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” The stranger spits, waiting for you to glance up at him to give you a nasty glare. He looks like the kind of guy who thought he was all that, despite peaking in high school. You feel your bottom lip quiver and you avoid eye contact.

“I—”

“Woah, dude, chill the fuck out. It was an accident, I’m sure she didn’t— wait, N/N, is that you? Hey it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

There’s a familiar voice in your ears and a hand under your chin, forcing you to stand upright. Whoever you bumped into walks away with a scoff. You meet eyes with Lee Hyunjae, one of your dearest friends. He recognizes that hint of panic in your features and he frowns.

“I’m so sorry, Jae, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going—” Your breath is caught in your throat and you fumble over your words.

“Hey, hey, slow down,” he keeps a hold on your biceps. “It’s alright, I promise. He’s gone. What’s wrong?”

You shut your eyes tightly, feeling pathetic for causing such a scene for no apparent reason. Hyunjae guides you through your breathing, his focus trained on you the whole time. He always made you feel so comfortable.

“With everything that’s been going on, I’m just so paranoid and afraid of being alone. I wanted to go to the music department building and wait for the boys.” You finally explain once you’ve calmed down and the rise of your chest is even.

“How about this? I’ll take you home so you don’t have to stay on campus any longer.” He suggests, bringing up a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear. You nod slowly, gathering your bearings.

Hyunjae leads you to his car that’s parked in the lot closest to the building you were just in and the two of you make your way to your apartment. You’d been friends with your roommates for years now, meeting in eighth grade. You had just moved schools and happened to be put into a class with Eric Sohn, the most rambunctious boy you’d ever met. He thought you seemed really sweet upon first impression and decided to befriend you, introducing you to all of his friends in turn.

Aside from Eric, there was Sangyeon, Jacob, Younghoon, Hyunjae, Juyeon, Kevin, Changmin, Chanhee, Haknyeon, and Sunwoo. While it was a little overwhelming, it was nice going from zero friends to eleven in the span of just a couple days. You were pretty close to all of them, but you and Hyunjae initially hit it off the best. You understood each other on a different level than everyone else and to this day, you still don't know the exact reason why.

Towards the end of high school, your friendship with Hyunjae transformed into something that wasn’t purely platonic. You weren’t entirely sure when it started to change, but your feelings for him grew exponentially. You tried to keep them to yourself, hidden from the world to preserve your fragile teenage heart. Though you’d already been friends with them a few years at that point, you still had that inkling of dread in the pit of your stomach that one day they’d choose to stop talking to you. You especially didn’t want a silly crush to be the cause of that.

After a while, however, the lines began to blur together anyway and everyone could tell you felt for him romantically. Once, Eric had made a comment about it being so painfully obvious that Hyunjae was just as into you and it nearly shook your whole world.

When college time rolled around, you all knew you’d be attending the same university, so picking roommates was a bit of a tricky situation. You chose yours solely based on the fact that you were majoring in similar things, so it’d be easy to fit schedules together. (You also couldn’t handle being roommates with Hyunjae; it’d be too much for your heart.) Hyunjae lived with Juyeon, Changmin, and Sunwoo, while Sangyeon, Younghoon, Chanhee, and Haknyeon lived together.

Hyunjae parks in a spot near the stairs that lead to your unit. The car is still running when you unbuckle your seatbelt and you stare at the steps blankly. Though the close proximity with him has your pulse racing, you want nothing more than some company until your roommates get home. You turn to him shyly, balling up a fistful of your sweater.

“Jae, do you— do you think you could stay with me for a bit before the boys come back? I don’t— I really don’t wanna be alone right now.”

The look he gives you is full of adoration, like you personally put the stars in the sky. He smiles softly and nods, reaching across the center console to place a comforting hand on top of yours. The two of you keep them intertwined as you go inside your apartment, locking all the locks carefully before sitting on your couch.

You don’t make a comment about him not letting go despite already being in the safety of your home. You don’t say anything about him pulling you into his side either, mostly because you want him to.

With all that’s been happening recently, you’ve felt so hollow. There was this indescribable emptiness expanding in you and even though you so desperately wanted to chalk it up to something else, you knew it was due to the fact that there was growing anxiety that you could be next, that any of your friends could be next. You were starting to move like you were in a simulation, doing everything in your daily routine without a single emotion. Sure, you’d laugh when Eric made a stupid joke but that’s about the most anyone could get from you aside from the occasional panic attack.

Hyunjae being here and holding you is exactly what you needed to feel some semblance of warmth again.

There’s a soft knock on your bedroom door around eight that same night, waking you from your slumber. You don’t remember falling asleep or being moved to your bed, so you’re not too sure when Hyunjae left. You rub the sleep from your eyes as you get up to open your door.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you, but we got some takeout if you’re hungry.” Jacob says with an apologetic smile, leaning on the door frame.

You give him a bleary look as you nod, following him into the dining room where your other two roommates were sitting at the table. Eric greets you through a full mouth. A small laugh escapes you when you sit across from him, Kevin adjacent to your seat. The sound of the TV in the living room plays as background noise as the four of you eat.

“So when’d you get home? I thought you were gonna wait for us.” Kevin asks.

“I was, but then I ran into Hyunjae when I was on my way to your building and he offered to bring me home,” you shrug, taking some tteokbokki with your chopsticks. “It was a whole thing, please don’t ask.”

Eric hums to himself, a mischievous grin on his face as he takes a sip of his cola. “Interesting. And you say he’s not into you…”

Heat blooms over your cheeks and you accidentally drop your chopsticks on your plate, their clacking against the ceramic garnering your roommates’ attention. Eric Sohn was now number one on your hit list. Kevin elbows him in the side and tells him to be quiet, despite the tiny upwards curve of his lips.

“If he cares about you as much as he seems like he does, he wouldn’t have left you here alone after you fell asleep,” Jacob mutters, looking at you from his peripherals. “What was the point of escorting you home if—”

“Jacob shut the fuck up,” Eric suddenly blurts, the three of you stare at him as he clambers over to the living room, turning up the volume on the TV. “Look!”

You turn in your chair, your stomach churning at the news report unfolding before you.

“We’re live just outside SNU, where another victim has been found. The body hasn’t been identified yet, but from what we do know, he was a student that attended the school,” the female reporter says into the microphone she’s holding, a glazed over expression in her eyes. “Crime Scene Investigators believe he was murdered at around six this evening, and was assumed to have been making his way home from campus. Updates are expected to come later tonight once we have more information.”

You know that far away, checked out gaze she had all too well. She’s reported on the killings for a while now, no doubt numb to the way things were at this point.

Your appetite spoils immediately and you excuse yourself from the table, making your way back to your room. You sit on your bed and bring your knees to your chest, taking a deep breath in, then covering your mouth when you breathe out to muffle the sob that follows. It was becoming too overwhelming for you and there was nothing you could do about it besides sit back and watch.

It was understandable for anyone in your situation to feel hopeless, how could they not? With someone terrorizing the city in an unpredictable manner, there was no sense of normalcy in anyone’s life. You shudder when you finally bring yourself to stop crying, digging your nails into the fat of your calves.

Through the walls, you can hear the boys talking, voices solemn.

“Why’d you have to put the TV louder, dumbass?”

“Sorry, I just like being up to date on the case, you know? I want to be prepared. What if I need to learn clone jutsu to take out the guy?”

“Eric, you’re such a clown, oh my god.”

“I get that you’re interested and all, but you have to be mindful of Y/N. You know how much this has affected her both emotionally and physically, she doesn’t need the constant reminder that it’s happening. And I’d appreciate if you apologized for telling me to ‘shut the fuck up’.”

There’s a snort in between.

“My bad, I didn’t mean to be rude about it. But while we’re on the topic, I think we both need to admit our mistakes. What you said about Hyunjae to her wasn’t cool either. I know we’re all friends, but it just came across too—”

“It was really snappy, Jacob. And a bit petty.”

“Yeah! What Kevin said.”

“I— you’re right. I just don’t want her getting hurt, in more ways than one.”

You don’t hear much else from the trio and sigh heavily, dragging your hands down your face and wiping your eyes with the heels of your palms. You grab your phone from your nightstand and hesitantly search for Hyunjae’s contact, the line ringing a couple times before he answers.

“Y/N? Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“N-no, I’m fine. I was just— I wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay,” you mess with your bottom lip. “I heard there was another victim and I didn’t know when you left the apartment, so I just— uh— I just needed to know that you were safe. I called to see if you’d answer.”

You squeeze your eyes shut out of embarrassment, even if he can’t exactly see you. The stuttering was enough to make you go into hiding for the rest of your life if this serial killer didn’t.

“Oh,” you can hear the slight chuckle in his response from the way his breath hits the speaker. “It means a lot that you’d do that, N/N. Really, I appreciate you so much.”

Your lip finds itself between your teeth and your heart is pounding unbearably fast, you think you might be having a heart attack. You bring a hand up to clutch at your chest as a fuzzy feeling courses through your whole being.

Now you were scared for an entirely different reason.

(The main one occupies your mind again later that night when you scroll through your Twitter feed, only to find out the most recent victim was the guy you accidentally bumped into. You feel like some sick version of a guardian angel was looking after you. It makes it hard to fall asleep after that.)

A couple days passed and you found yourself thinking about Lee Hyunjae more than usual.

Not to say that you didn’t already think about him at least once a day, but now it was worse. When you woke up, you wondered if he was still asleep. While you drank your morning coffee, you wondered if it’d taste sweeter had he made it for you. When you had lunch, you wondered if he’d like the spam musubi you made yourself. When you attended your other classes, you wondered which courses he was struggling with this semester.

As you were walking out of your English class, you recalled running into him. Had he not been there, you might’ve driven yourself insane trying to rush over to the music building while diffusing the issue with that stranger.

When you first began to harbor feelings for him, you assumed it would become nothing more than a silly schoolgirl crush. He was attractive and kind to you, but that was just the bare minimum— you thought you’d grow out of it. However, as time went on, what you thought was just puppy love had blossomed into something stronger. It was a force to be reckoned with.

Of course, all of that had been tossed on the back burner with everything that’s going on. Recently you’ve been too afraid for your own safety and well-being to over analyze your interactions with Hyunjae, but now you’re back to square one.

All because he’d done something nice for you.

God, the bar was so low. Was it really too much to ask for someone who was decent? Someone who wasn’t a serial killer?

You were on your way to the music building to wait for Jacob, Kevin, and Eric once again, when you see Hyunjae coming down the hall. He’s on his phone, not paying any mind to his surroundings. You’re about to call out to him when someone stops you, tugging on the sleeve of your sweater gently.

“Hey, Y/N right?” The tall boy asks, a charming smile on his face.

“Uh— yeah,” you nod, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Y-you are?”

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I must seem like a total weirdo,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m Mingyu! We have English together.”

“Oh, you’re Mingyu? Professor Park told me about you before class today,” you give him a small comforting smile. “I don’t mind helping you!”

“Ah, that’s great to hear. I was a bit worried you’d be more annoyed about having to tutor someone so late in the semester.” Though he’s much taller than you and approached you first, Mingyu comes across as a little shy in nature. It puts you at ease in a way.

“No, not at all! English isn’t always the easiest, I get that. I wanna help as much as I can before finals. Look,” you pause, pulling your backpack off one shoulder to rip out a sheet of paper. “I’ll give you my number so we can arrange meet up dates! I’d prefer if we met at the library if that’s okay with you?”

Mingyu grins and sports a thumbs up in agreement. “That sounds perfect. Thank you so much, Y/N!”

You scribble your phone number onto the paper and hand it to him before parting ways. With the off guard conversation, you nearly forgot about Hyunjae, who was nowhere to be seen now. You feel your lips droop into a frown, since you were hoping you could talk with him for a second.

As you’re walking across the quad to the music building, a wind chill blows past you, making you wrap your arms around yourself. It was mid November and for some stupid reason, you were only wearing a small cardigan.

When you squint up at the sky, you also realize it’s more overcast than anything. There’s an angry grey cloud right above you and you curse yourself for not having an umbrella or a raincoat. You should've been more prepared, especially because of the inconsistent weather this time of year.

Suddenly, the sky is blocked from your view and you furrow your brows, spinning around. Hyunjae stares back at you with a smile ten times warmer than the frigid air surrounding you and a thicker jacket in one hand. The other holds up an umbrella just as tiny droplets begin to fall from above.

His timing couldn’t have been better.

“Heading to the music building?” He asks, skillfully placing the coat on your shoulders.

“Mhm… was gonna wait for the boys.” You respond, a little awestruck by how gorgeous he was. Especially up close. Your eyes fixate on the freckle on his nose rather than his own. He hums, keeping an arm around your shoulders as he leads you in a different direction.

“I can take you home again,” he glances down at you. “I don’t mind one bit.”

“O-okay!”

During the car ride to your apartment, you send a quick text to your roommates about not waiting up. You were happy that your relationship with Hyunjae was evolving. The past couple semesters had been rough, and you hadn’t seen him or any of the other guys nearly as much as Jacob, Kevin, and Eric. (And that was only because you lived with them.)

You toss your keys on to the mini table beside the front door, taking off your shoes with a small groan. The boots were cute, but not very comfortable. Hyunjae follows suit, his sock clad feet shuffling against the floor to sit on the couch.

After switching on the TV, you find a random Hallmark Christmas movie to play in the background, knowing full well that his presence beside you was too distracting. The brunette turns to face you, placing a hand on your thigh gently to get your attention.

“So, who was the dude you were talking to earlier?”

You blink at his question. So he saw you after all. Was he perhaps jealous? The idea shouldn’t make you giddy, but it does. “My professor asked me to tutor him ‘cause he’s struggling with English. Why?”

“Just curious. He seemed a little touchy.” Hyunjae plays with the hem of your sweater.

“O-oh. It’s fine, he wasn’t a random perv, if that’s what you were wondering.”

He scoots a little closer to you, tucking some hair behind your ear. You feel your face flush impossibly hotter. Your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat. His body heat radiates off of him with the new proximity.

“Good. It drives me crazy seeing other guys put their hands on you.” He admits bluntly, his hand resting at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder.

You know you look insane, your chest heaving up and down and your eyes widened a little. Like a baby deer caught by a predator. Who knew sweet sweet Hyunjae had a rather risqué side to him? You swallow thickly, not daring to move an inch. His thumb caresses your skin gently, goosebumps littering in its wake.

“Hyunjae…” You breathe, lips parting as you finally make eye contact with him.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N.”

You want to scream into the cushion behind you, your hands clamming up. Hyunjae looks like he could swallow you whole if he wanted to, his bottom lip between his teeth as he leans in a bit more. This moment was something straight out of one of your darkest fantasies. You never thought this would ever happen, that either of you would ever actually make a move on the other.

The sound of the front door unlocking catches both of your attention. Hyunjae pulls away from you faster than your brain can comprehend what exactly just occurred. Jacob is the first to walk in, laughing at something Eric said. The three males pause when they see you’re not alone.

The greetings are quick, Hyunjae dapping up the boys as if nothing. He’s also quick to say goodbye, ensuring them that he’ll make sure you’re safe when they’re not around. He gives you that smile of his, the one where his eyes form crescents, and then he’s gone.

You don’t know how much more of this you could take.

“So, Y/N…” Eric starts in the middle of dinner, side eyeing you as he shovels rice into his mouth. “You and Hyunjae have been together an awful lot lately.”

Kevin snorts, kicking the blonde under the table. You suppose it was going to come up eventually. This ‘Will They, Won’t They’ back and forth shit was starting to tire you out. You weren’t getting any younger. Time was passing you up the longer you waited to just say something. And with all that’s been going on, it was silly to be afraid of admitting your feelings.

“He’s being a good friend, Eric,” Jacob sighs, reaching across to flick him on the forehead. “It’s actually really nice that he watches over Y/N when we’re gone.”

Eric grimaces, rubbing the spot that Jacob assaulted. You frown a bit when you realize that he had a point. Hyunjae was treating you like a child that had to be tended to, babysitting you like you weren’t capable of holding your own. Granted, both times he’s come over, you asked him to. So you couldn’t really blame him for assuming you wanted him around to protect you.

“Do y’all think Hyunjae actually likes me? In a non-platonic way?”

Kevin’s spoon clatters onto the floor and they all pause their banter to look at you. Every time your feelings for Hyunjae were brought up, you chose to ignore them and switch the subject. You can’t keep running away.

“Uh— yeah. Duh. Of course he does. I don’t know anyone else who would go out of their way to stay with someone they saw as just a friend multiple times a week so she felt safe.” Kevin finally answers after a moment.

“Okay.” You settle on, taking a sip of your water.

“What do you mean ‘okay’?” He raises an eyebrow at you, but you just shrug.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

As you’re washing the dishes after dinner, you hear the news broadcast over the faucet. Another victim had just been found behind the campus library. The camera shows the scene behind the reporter, something that would’ve made you queasy a couple days ago, but now you feel nothing— just a dull ache in your chest. It’s messy, almost like the killer was in a hurry to get it over with.

The body is covered with a black tarp, paramedics wheeling it away in the corner of the screen. The reporter still wears that dissociated expression on her face as she goes over the details of this victim. She explains that because the murder was done so haphazardly, they were able to identify the body easily.

Twenty three year old Kim Mingyu, Sports Med Major.

The rest of the news report sounds like static in your ears as you scrub away at the dishes mindlessly. Your fingers have pruned and the water was burning the backs of your hands, but you don’t feel it, too checked out to care. It seemed like the killings were getting closer and closer to you. Part of you thought you’d be next every single time.

You had to tell Hyunjae how you felt. It was now or never.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s waiting outside of your apartment complex, leaning against his car. You take careful steps down the stairs, nearly fainting at the sight of him in a hoodie and grey sweatpants. He runs around the car to open the passenger door for you, only shutting it when you’re all buckled up. It’s not long after that he revs the engine and drives off to nowhere in particular, just like you requested. (Curfew ignored.)

It’s silent at first, save for the low hum of his music, R&B that resonates somewhere within your soul. You can’t help but steal a glance from your peripheral, fisting your sweatshirt when you see how concentrated he looks while driving. He has his right hand resting on the gear shift, the other gripping the wheel. You could’ve had this view all to yourself so long ago had you just spoken up.

“Hyunjae,” your voice is wobbly, but you steel yourself to continue. “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” He asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Do you think— uh— do you think you could pull over?” If you were going to confess, you wanted him to look at you. Besides, the drive was starting to make you jittery.

He nods and goes a bit further, before pulling into an empty lot. He shifts into park, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could turn his body towards you, giving you his undivided attention. You mirror him, tightening your hold on your sweater when he wets his lips, smiling at you. “Is this what you called me for?”

“Yeah, actually,” you force yourself to keep eye contact, pushing the lump back down your throat. “I’ve wanted to tell you this for years now, if I’m being honest with both of us.”

He chuckles, much like he did the other night over the phone. It drives you just a little crazy. “I’m listening.”

“I— I don’t know how to word this properly…” You wipe your palms on your legs. Come on, Y/N, spit it out already. “Fuck, okay, I like you Hyunjae. Like, really like you. In the way that I sometimes wish you would kiss me until I can’t breathe. I’ve been so afraid of admitting that to myself, but I’ve realized that life is way too short to dwell over the fear of rejection. But please, tell me you feel the same.”

He stares at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes. You feel like throwing up now, you stomach twisting and churning at the thought that you just ruined everything between you. There was no going back after this. He knew.

It’s as if months have passed by in utter silence with Hyunjae just sitting there, no words coming out of his mouth, until finally, he just leans across the center console, cupping your cheek with one of his hands. His vision is trained on your lips, his face close enough that his lashes flutter against your skin. God, he was even more gorgeous from this distance.

Instead of saying anything, he presses his lips to yours, a sweet but desperate kiss that melts away all the worries tucked into your head. They feel so soft on your own, molding together in near perfect timing. It’s like you’d been living for a year without rain and this kiss was the shower that saved you from a drought. It’s all you’ve ever wanted and needed and more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he breathes when he pulls away slightly. “The real thing is so much better than I imagined it would be.”

For once, time slows down in this moment, almost like the world stopped spinning on its axis. Everything slips from your mind and it’s just you and Hyunjae, here in his car in the middle of an empty parking lot. Nothing else matters. You smile at his confession, a genuine smile that was spurred on by contentment rather than force. You felt light and airy, no longer weighed down by such a trivial problem.

“I think I have an idea,” you giggle, reaching up to brush a stray hair from his face. “I’m not too sure, though, I could be wrong. Could you do that again to help jog my memory?”

Hyunjae laughs, (it’s the most melodic sound you’ve ever heard) but doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. You reciprocate his passion, tangling your fingers in his dark hair. He sighs into the kiss, pulling you on top of him. Your legs straddle his lap as best as they can and he reaches down to recline his seat, scooting it as far as it can go from the wheel. The thin material of your fleece shorts hardly hide the feeling of him under you, a low moan pushing into his mouth.

He nips at your bottom lip, tugging at it with his teeth gently before peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking along the exposed skin from your sweatshirt. You whine, throwing your head back as his tongue soothes over the bruising area. His hands slide under your top, rubbing up and down your sides before moving them down to your thighs, repeating the action.

“You’re so gorgeous on top of me like this, Y/N.” Hyunjae says, just above a whisper like someone else might hear this intimate conversation. He grips your hips and bucks upwards to grind into your clothed core. Your eyes widen and you involuntarily moan at the sensation. This wasn’t what you were expecting when you planned to confess, but you didn’t hate the outcome. He grins at your response, reconnecting your mouths sloppily.

If you were given the choice, you were wholeheartedly satisfied with just this. You would’ve been plenty okay with just making out. Had you been asked years ago that you’d even get this far, you would’ve snorted in your own face, so why should you be greedy and want more than what you had? (That’s not to say that you didn’t.)

“H-Hyunjae,” you stutter, your brain foggy from all of the kissing you just did. “Do you…?”

You trail off, not sure how to word your question. You didn’t want to come off like a sex crazed maniac, but you didn’t want to come off like an amateur virgin either. Truth of the matter is, you were neither, but it had been a while since you indulged yourself in something of this sort. And this time it would be with Hyunjae, the one person you never thought you’d do this with. You were nervous.

All you wanted was to be entwined with him in more ways than one. You wanted all of him— the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful, the sick, the healthy. He could do no wrong on your eyes and you wanted to show him that.

“Do I…?” Hyunjae trails off, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you want to make love… with me?” This had to be the single most mortifying moment of your life. You cover your face in humiliation, shying away from him when he sits up on his elbows.

“What kind of question is that?” He asks with a chuckle, prying your hands from your face so he could look you in the eyes. “If I could make love to you every hour of the day, for seven days a week, I would. I want you all the time, Y/N. Earlier today, before we got interrupted, I wanted to do unimaginable things to you.”

You hide yourself in the crook of his neck, your skin flushing hotter. Weren't you wearing too many layers? The car was starting to feel stuffy. Hyunjae’s chest rumbles with laughter beneath you, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear. This is probably the gentlest he’d be with you all night, because from what you could infer, he was a manhandler.

“Take care of me,” you breathe, mouth brushing against his pulse point. “Please.”

Hyunjae stops holding himself back. He’d do whatever you asked of him, only hoping you’d be tied to him in every lifetime, just like this one. He kisses you again with an unrivaled fervor, slipping his hands inside your sweatshirt and touching you everywhere physically possible. They’re warm on your skin, palming your breasts over the flimsy fabric of your bralette.

He helps you get rid of your top and shorts, leaving you in just undergarments. The sight of you barely clothed sends him into a frenzy, especially knowing it’s for his eyes only. You aid Hyunjae in pulling off his hoodie and yanking his sweatpants down his long legs. The minute most of your restrictions are gone, Hyunjae brings you closer to him. He hisses at the contact, the warmth of your cunt through your panties putting him under a spell.

You whimper when his touch travels down your front, sneaking into the waistband of your underwear. The pads of his middle and ring fingers apply the lightest amount of pressure onto your clit the second he finds it, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your nails on one hand dig into his shoulder while the other trails down his abdomen, rubbing up and down his length through his boxer briefs.

Hyunjae groans into your kiss and you gasp for air as you tear from him, resting your forehead on his to watch as you get each other off through your clothes. If earlier was something taken from one of your wet dreams, what did this constitute as? You clench around nothing when he pushes up into you, your wrists clashing. Knowing he was just as down bad for you as you were for him just made this all that much more real.

“I need to feel you around me,” he mumbles in your ear, dipping his fingers in and out of you languidly as if to explain what he meant. “Let me stretch you out.”

You nod in response, fumbling with his briefs. Hyunjae lifts his hips enough for you to help him out of them. You groan when he reveals his impressive size, wondering how exactly he expected you to take him. He pushes your panties to the side, mimicking the sound you just made when he sees your bare pussy drooling for him. You eventually get frustrated and line him up with your hole, sinking down in one fluid motion. A voluminous moan escapes from the back of your throat, his dick throbbing achingly inside of you. At first you stay still like that, your pelvises touching as you adjust to his length and girth.

“H-holy shit— you’re s-so deep, Jae,” you cry, resting your forehead against his yet again. He pecks your lips, holding onto your hips to help you bounce on his cock, practically impaling you every single time.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well. Such a good fucking girl,” Hyunjae grunts, the warmth of your walls drawing him in even further. “So tight, too.”

Your thighs begin to burn and your movements become slower, which he takes note of instantaneously. He bends his knees and forces your upper half impossibly closer to him, thrusting up into you. This new angle allows him to find that one spongy spot that has you seeing stars, fogging up your brain and even your vision.

You cast a downward glance at the minimal space between where the two of you are connected. Your moans and whines grow louder with the view of every thrust of his hips into yours. Hyunjae sneaks his hand in the middle of you, his fingers expertly toying with your clit. Any more stimulation and the band in your stomach is snapping.

You’ve had sex before. You’ve slept with a handful of other guys in the past, but nothing could ever compare to this moment. Your cunt had already memorized his size and every vein, effectively ruining the chances of any other man doing this with you. Lee Hyunjae had you in a chokehold whether he realized it or not. He had you wrapped around his finger without really trying, but you could never complain.

Your walls squeeze his cock and he knows he won’t last much longer, shutting his eyes tightly. “C’mon baby, you gonna cum for me?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, your skin flush on his own. “Wanna cum so bad for you, Hyunjae.”

“Yeah? Me too, sweetheart,” he pants, the thumb on your hip pressing against the bone. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you babble. “Please, please. I want you to cum inside me, Hyunjae.”

He kisses you softly just then, swallowing your pretty moans with something completely opposite of what he’s already given you, and that’s what sends you spiraling, fluttering around him. He groans, spilling into you and letting you milk him dry of everything he has to offer, painting your insides just like you asked him to.

You lay like that for a while, Hyunjae’s dick still buried in you to the hilt. Both of you attempt to catch your breaths and bring yourselves down from the well-anticipated euphoric state you just visited. You giggle at the condensation coating the windows of his car, extending your arm to draw a heart and a smiley face with your finger. He slowly pulls himself out, hissing at the sensitivity, but doesn’t make a move to get you off of his chest.

Where do you go from here? A line had just been crossed and you weren’t entirely sure you knew what he wanted from you. It’s one thing to imagine kissing and fucking someone extensively. But it was another to actually want a tangible, romantic relationship from them, to actually capacitate feelings for them.

“I love you,”

You jolt up and stare at him with widened eyes. Did those words really just come out of his mouth? As if he can read your mind, he nods. There’s a dragged out sigh, followed by him sitting up slightly with you perched on his lap.

“I really do, Y/N. I’ve felt this way for years and I’m willing to do anything for you.” He admits, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. You kiss him gently, the pad of your thumb swiping across his cheekbone.

“I love you, too.”

The Saturday after your night in Hyunjae’s car brought everything into perspective for you.

You hadn’t spoken to him since he dropped you off at your apartment and it was beginning to worry you. Even though you made sure he reciprocated your emotions, there still could’ve been a misunderstanding. Had you been too forward? Did you scare him away? Did something happen to him? Whatever the explanation was, you didn’t like the eerie feeling it started brewing in your stomach— it was foreboding.

In spite of not talking to them at all in what seemed to be a month or so, you tried calling each of your mutual friends to see if you could get some answers. Not even his roommates picked up their phones and this made you much more uneasy. You pace back and forth in your living room, nicking at your bottom lip with your nails. Why did he choose now of all times to ghost you? What went wrong?

Kevin comes out of his bedroom a couple minutes later, expecting to grab his morning coffee as usual. When he finds you nearly on the brink of insanity instead, he decides to intervene. He supposed his caffeine could wait until his best friend was calmed down. You jump in surprise, holding a fist to your chest. He raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, my bad. What’s up? Why do you look like you’re going through a quarter life crisis?” Kevin asks you, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Is everything okay?”

“I—“ you pause and take a deep breath. “I don’t know…”

His eyebrows furrow and he guides you to the sofa so you could sit down. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?”

“Hyunjae hasn’t talked to me since Thursday night, after he brought me back here,” your voice is hoarser than you’d like it to be. “I-I texted and called him a bunch but he hasn’t replied. I even— I even tried Juyo, Sunwoo, and Changmin. No luck with them either. I’m concerned, Kev.”

Kevin combs through his hair, pursing his lips in thought. “Yeah, okay, I would be too. It's a little weird that none of them are responding. Have you thought of just showing up at his place to check in on him?”

You shake your head. “No, I didn’t want him to think I’m clingy and annoying in case he was there. What if he just wants to get me off of his back and he’s telling them to ignore me?”

“I don’t think that’s the case at all, Y/N,” your friend sighs, putting his glasses on top of his head and running a hand down his face. “Hyunjae has never been that kind of person in all the years we’ve known him. I highly doubt he’d switch up now. Plus, he’s literally crazy about you. I’m pretty sure the guy would move heaven and earth for you if he could. I think there’s a very real and genuine possibility that something is seriously wrong. It’s like— it’s just a gut feeling, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” If Kevin felt this way, too, that would only mean one thing, right? You had to get to the bottom of this. There was a chance that lives depended on it. A quick roll of your neck and you’re standing. “I’m gonna go over there. I can’t leave things unanswered. I can’t wait for a fucking news report.”

The ravenette pats the top of your head. “Be careful, N/N. Please.”

You give him a nod before you’re slipping into your shoes and grabbing his car keys. You’re not exactly dressed for a confrontation if there is one— clad in a pair of sweatpants, an oversized sweatshirt with your university’s crest on it, and socks with sandals— but you were too preoccupied to care.

The drive itself was mentally taxing, your brain dissociating most of the ride. You’re not sure how many of the lights you passed were actually green. The closer you got to Hyunjae’s apartment, the more that trepidation settling in your lower abdomen grew. Throughout your life, you’d never been the type of person who acted on instinct or had a nagging voice in the rear of your head warning you about situations you got into. You usually went with the flow and if you made a mistake, you allowed yourself to learn from it.

However, that was prior to being thrown into a period of uncertainty like this one. Now, all you could do was act on instinct. All you could do was listen to the stupid nagging voice in the rear of your head yelling at you. All you could do was follow the blaring alarms and caution signs in your field of vision. And this time they were almost deafening.

Kevin’s car rolls to a stop outside of Hyunjae’s building, occupying an empty spot three away from the front of the stairs. Your pulse races when you step out of the vehicle and immediately recognize the cars in the spaces beside yours. Hyunjae’s, Juyeon’s, and Changmin’s. You notice a thin layer of dirt caking Juyeon and Changmin’s, as if they’d remained unmoved for a long time. Perturbed wasn’t a big enough word to describe what was going through your mind.

Half of you was terrified to take a step towards the stairs, let alone ascend them to Hyunjae’s floor. What would go down when you reached his apartment? What would happen the moment that door opened?

You ball your hands into fists, the edges of your nails jabbing the skin of your palms. The pain steels you enough to move forward, walking up the stairs slowly. There’s a chill tiptoeing along your spine the whole trip up, like your body knew what you were getting yourself into before you did. Maybe you were stupid. Only an idiot would lead themselves blindly into a scenario without knowing the outcome.

It’s been minutes of you staring at the slightly rusted numbers on Hyunjae’s door before you register that you’re standing in front of it. If you're being honest, you have no idea what you’re doing. You were acting on autopilot— progressing without a thought of what’s coming next. A shuddered breath leaves your lips and you raise your knuckles to the door.

The first knock is too soft to hear if the inhabitants were in their bedrooms, so you apply more force the second time. The sound reverberates through the hall, a wince appearing on your features. If someone was inside, surely they had to have heard that one. You wait a little longer for the door to swing open and reveal one of your friends looking perfectly fine. For Juyeon to showcase that grin of his that reaches his eyes and ask what you were doing here. For Changmin to give you that sweet smile that puffed up his cheeks and ask what you needed. For Sunwoo to blow a raspberry before he laughed at how silly you were for stressing over them. For Hyunjae to reassure you that it was all going to be okay, that he loved you. You were praying for that.

But no one showed up on the other end of that doorway and you were stuck glaring at that same painted board of wood.

That’s what sends your instincts into overdrive. Your hand grabs the knob, twisting it just in case. It makes a full rotation, pushing open the door the tiniest bit. You peek inside carefully and find all the lights in the living room and kitchen off. Your teeth bite down on your lip as you enter the apartment. One of the things you hated about it, was the annoying buzz of the fluorescent lights in their bathroom. And for some reason, that was all that infiltrated your ears.

The door for said bathroom was cracked just a tad at the end of the hallway, but what caught your attention was the room closest to you— also cracked the most miniscule amount. You see light filtering through, an almost orange glow like that of a desk lamp. Your stupidity would be your downfall, you conclude, your feet gravitating to the room. It’s Hyunjae’s you recall when you’re outside of it. They always say curiosity killed the cat, and you couldn’t help but revert to a feline and nudge it open with your foot.

You really wished that saying was just that— a saying.

Eric sits ahead of you, tied to a chair in the middle of the room. There’s a piece of fabric gagging his mouth and his clothes are tattered, blood staining nearly every inch. A long gash runs along his left bicep and a myriad of smaller cuts litter his face and arms. What your focus lands on first are the several deep stab wounds on his thighs.

A hand comes up to cup your mouth to keep yourself from screaming at the sight of your best friend in this position. He struggles against his restraints, muffled cries for your assistance shattering your heart into a thousand pieces like broken shards of glass. Tear streaks mixed with dried blood cover the apples of his cheeks.

“Oh my god, Eric,” your voice wobbles as you scramble to free him. “Oh my god…”

You pull down the fabric in his mouth first and he gasps for air. His eyes widen at something behind you and he warns, “Y/N—!” before he’s interrupted by your yelp. The person pressed into your back has their arm around your neck with a hold tight enough that you can’t escape, but loose enough that you can breathe, the blunt edge of a knife grazing the column of your throat.

“Tsk tsk, Youngjae. You should know that making so much noise when your killer’s not in the room just alerts them of suspicious activity. That’s survival 101, my friend. Isn’t that right, sweet sweet Y/N?”

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

This wasn’t happening.

This couldn’t be happening.

“Please, let her go, Hyunjae.” Eric begs. Hyunjae hums, nuzzling his nose in your hair. He rolls his eyes and scoffs after inhaling your scent, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“God, you’re a mouthy one. Not even Juyeon and Sunwoo were this chatty when I slit their throats— then again, it's not like they could talk much anyway.” He snorts.

You felt sick. You were lightheaded now, just at the thought of your friends gone. “W-why are you doing this?”

Hyunjae grumbles, pouting his lips. “Time for me to unravel my evil villain monologue, huh?” He slips a hand under your sweatshirt and pinches the side of your waist. “Well here it is; what you’re dying to know. The first incident was by complete accident, we were simply having a discussion about why he shouldn’t have been staring at your ass while his girlfriend was next to him at Jeong Jaehyun’s end of summer bonfire. The dude got pissed off that I called him out and tried to start a fight, but I shoved him so hard, he fell and hit his head on a rock. I just couldn’t find it in myself to feel bad about it so I left him there like nothing. From then on, anyone who came between us or remotely hurt you in any way wound up on the receiving end of this knife. Funny isn’t it? How you’re the one beneath it this time?”

It all began to fall into place once he laid the cards out on the table for you to read. The guy you ran into Tuesday after class. Poor Kim Mingyu, who just wanted to pass his English final. Your friends not picking up their phones. And supposedly it was all in the name of love.

“Y-you did that for me?”

“Of course, baby,” Hyunjae mutters into the shell of your ear. “I said I’d protect you didn’t I? I just want you all to myself.”

“What the fuck does that possessive bullshit have to do with me? What did it have to do with Juyo or Changmin or Sunwoo?” Eric cries. “Oh god, what about—?”

“Sangyeon, Hoon, Chanhee, Hak? Yeah, those four were taken care of way before my own roommates. You, obviously, were the chosen one this go around. Then it would be Kevin and lastly, Jacob. I planned on stopping after you three unless absolutely necessary.”

“How is any of this fucking necessary? You’re psychotic,” the blonde exclaims, still wriggling in his restraints. “Why would Y/N want you after all of this? Did you really believe she’d never find out about what you’ve done?”

Hyunjae glides the smooth edge of the blade against your skin and releases you from his grip, but takes a hold of your wrist, placing the handle in your grasp. He urges you forward, closer to Eric. “If she was scared of me, don’t you think she would’ve tried harder to escape me? Didn’t even blink when I held the knife to her neck.”

The brunette kisses your temple and you watch the fear in Eric’s eyes morph into defeat. “After everything we’ve been through? I’ve known you since eighth grade, Y/N. Eighth fucking grade. And this is how it ends?”

“H-he loves me,” you stutter, glancing at Hyunjae. “Don’t you?”

“You don’t kill your best friends out of love, Y/N! He’s insane! Please, don’t let him get into your head. You’re not that kind of person.” Eric attempts to reason.

Maybe you weren’t. Maybe you were. Who knows? That didn’t matter. What mattered was the fact that Hyunjae loved you. He loved you so much that he’d kill for you. Over and over and over again.

It was kind of comical that you loved him all the same. You, too, would kill for him. Over and over and over again.

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[httpknjoon]

(re)starting over again | kth; 11

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

words | 2.8k

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | taehyung x reader

warning/s | -

note | AAAAND WE'RE BACK! it's been a month since the last update! consider this as a new season for mc and tae :)) u might find this chapter a little fast-paced or not idk.. let me know ur thoughts! enjoy reading <;3 ps. sorry for the errors!

main masterlist | series masterlist

A couple of years passed, two to be exact, and a lot of things happened. The bakery became more crowded. It was renovated and had a larger space instead of moving the entire bakery to another place. They began hiring extra help, usually part-time working students who used to be customers in the shop too. 

Also, turns out that Jimin has a kid. Taehyung met Jihoon just a week after his best friend learned about his existence. Jihoon is a carbon copy of his dad, Taehyung thought. His eyes disappear when he smiles. Now, they have a little baker running around the kitchen usually on weekends.

Aside from those changes, Taehyung now lives in a studio apartment just a five-minute walk away from the bakery. He moved in just weeks after you left. The said apartment is not that big, just enough for him to rest in after work. Jimin commented that he treats that place like a hotel since Taehyung didn’t really personalize it to make the ambiance like a home. The whole place was plain, not even considered minimalist. Just plain. The walls were untouched. It was off-white when Taehyung came and it remains the same now. He didn’t really bother to invest anything in the place.

The house you two bought and lived in is still being taken care of. By him. Taehyung cleans up there once a week, just in case you reach out to visit home again and maybe talk about what to do with it. And when he feels like it, which is almost rare, he sleeps on the couch in the living room. He never really entered the guest room, which became your bedroom after the accident, except the time he got home after Jisoo and Namjoon’s wedding. That room was spotless, just like how you left it. The only things you left that night were on your vanity table; your house keys, the vintage pearl ring he bought you back in the flea market, and a folded paper.

The letter says, “Feel at home, this house is yours too. Paint the walls with the colors you like, buy new furniture, and fill the frames with new memories. Just please don’t sell it. I’ll try to reach out as soon as I can. For now, live the last years you missed.”

He never painted the walls with another color as he found the shade of blue that spreads around the house perfect. He never bought any furniture and still kept the same ones you had. He thought it fit the theme of the house and his preference. And yes, the picture frames show the same photos they originally had. It felt home that way for him. But he chose to move to the apartment because he always felt like he was missing something. The house is cozy and comfortable. But whenever he tries to lie on supposedly his bed, it feels empty. Once, he tried playing jazz music around the house, but it just got lonelier so he turned it off and just continued cleaning.

But he did try to keep up and look back at the things he forgot through his friends and the things he found at the house. Jimin, Namjoon, and sometimes Jisoo were patient with his questions. Jisoo, your best friend, was understandably distant from him at first after you went away. But she adds details to the stories Namjoon tells and later, became amiable with him. Jimin’s mom still looks after him and brings him food when she visits the city. There were a few times she mentioned Taehyung’s mother but he didn’t really care about her. So he ignores it.

“You know, you’re a handsome man. Don’t you have any lady?”

One of their common customer, a man in his seventies once asked him. It was not the first time someone asked him such a thing. He always shakes his head with a smile as an answer. It would lead later with an offer to meet someone they know. Taehyung would shyly and kindly decline these offers, saying he really doesn’t feel like dating for now. It’s true. The idea of him dating someone else felt wrong. It was like his own body rejected the idea as he felt uneasy with that thought.

“So, it’s that time of the year.”

Taehyung was pulling his third pan of cheesecake out of the hot oven with his oven gloves when he heard Ava, their longtime part-time staff, say that. She sounded amused but not surprised. He looked up and saw her leaning on the door frame with her arms crossed. She had a smug smile on her face. 

“I swear, you should just declare this particular day as Cheesecake and Banana Bread Day just to make it official,” she added, teasing.

Taehyung looked at her, unimpressed, “It’s selling. In fact, my cheesecakes are one of our best sellers here… What are you doing here anyway? Go back to the front.”

He scolds her, she just rolled her eyes, unbothered.  Ava was one of the students who knew Taehyung even before his accident. She went from being a loyal customer to a reliable staff of the shop. She has been enjoying the pastries in the shop ever since she was twelve and now, sixteen, she also enjoys getting into small banters with her older bosses. She is usually candid, and not shy to share her thoughts. Taehyung sees her as a little sister most time.

Given that she began working here after you left, Ava doesn’t really have an idea why Taehyung bakes a few batches of cheesecake and banana loaves on this specific date. She doesn’t know you and that you are celebrating your birthday today. Taehyung learned about that fact after his phone notified him weeks after you went. Since then, he has baked your favorites on your special day. 

It’s the third time now. It’s probably a slim chance but he hoped to see you around the bakeshop, enjoying pastries. But so far, he hasn’t seen you around. In fact, he hadn’t even heard from you ever since that night. He thought he saw you a year ago in the subway when he came to Incheon to go sightseeing, but he lost you before he could take a second glance. He didn’t know where you moved since he respects your space but he wondered if you really moved that far. He wonders about you every now and then. 

Jisoo posted a short clip in her Instagram Stories months ago. It’s just a clip of a long trail and he swore he heard you in the background noise of that clip, telling your best friend how tired you are from hiking. Then, the clip ended.

“Not because it’s best selling you would make a ton of it. It’s something about demand and supply– I don’t know,” she conceded, breaking Taehyung’s train of thought. “Anyway, I’m here because someone called on the phone, asking for you.”

Taehyung’s heart stopped for a second. His hopes almost blasted out of his soul but he tried to stay calm before asking Ava, “Who is it?”

“I don’t know. But it’s a woman. They said they want to specifically talk to you.” she replied, unaware that the man in front of him was holding his breath. She continued, “They are actually waiting on call right now.”

Taehyung almost sprinted to the front desk of the shop. Still in his mint green oven gloves, he reached for the telephone. His heart is beating fast while his gut is twisting tight. He paused when he realized he had nothing to say. He doesn’t know what to say if it’s you. Are you going to talk about the house? Should he greet you with Happy Birthday first and offer you your favorite cheesecake? Maybe you won’t like– Stop.

Taehyung took a deep breath before exhaling. He spoke, “Hello, this is Kim Taehyung, co-owner of The Sweet Spot. How can I help you?”

“Oh, hi.” 

His heart dropped. Okay, relax. He told himself. It’s not you.

There were nights when Taehyung would find himself awake. And tonight is one of those nights. He just lay on his bed, staring at the blank ceiling. He always had trouble falling asleep, maybe a side effect of his accident. He doesn’t know anymore. But he knows that it makes his head go crazy with random thoughts when times like this happen. And now, he thought of something.

That’s when he picked up his phone and keys, along with his coat. He drove away from his apartment. 

The bell above the door rang when he entered the convenience store to pick up a few beers and chips. His cold hands stayed in his coat’s pockets as he looked around the store, waiting for the clerk to scan his stuff. Just when the worker was about to say the prince, the bell clung again.

“No, wait. I’m just really hungry. Wait for me… Yes, I have money here.”

Everything went quiet and suddenly all that he could hear was that voice. Your voice. He’s sure of that. He looked back and saw a woman’s back going into one of the aisles. His heart raced once again. You’re here?

“Dude, you okay?” the tired clerk asked, looking at him with heavy bags under his eyes.

Taehyung looked at him, and broke out of his headspace, “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry.”

He pulled out his cash and paid. He can still hear your voice like you were talking with someone on your phone.

“Do you want anything– Oh, the honey-butter chips I want ran out of stock.”

Taehyung looked at the chips in his hand. He looked at the clerk who also looked at him like they understood each other without saying anything. Taehyung placed the chip back on the counter.

“Just give this to the girl,” he whispered before turning his back.

He didn’t look back. A cool blow of wind brushed on his face when he walked out the door. For a second, he inhaled and exhaled again to calm his nerves. He got in his car, putting the pack of beer on the other seat. As he started the car, his eyes landed on the side mirror. 

Yes, it’s you. Definitely.

You just walked out of the same store, still on your phone, as you walked away grinning with your honey butter chips. You walked on the other end of the pathwalk. Taehyung pursed his lips and drove away.

His lips remained sealed but his head was exploding with questions. That was the closest he had seen you since the night you said goodbye. How are you? Why are you in the city? Did you live around here? It can’t be. Jisoo told him you left the hospital you used to work at. 

Instead of driving back to his apartment, Taehyung ended up parking in front of your deserted house. He had his beer with him as he turned the key on the doorknob. He stepped into the said home feeling colder even though he still hadn’t removed his coat.  He placed the drink on the center table in the living room and plugged in the TV for background noise. He put on a random show, which happens to be FRIENDS. 

Opening a can, he sat on the couch, pulling a couple of books he left under the same table. Photo albums and scrapbooks. You never told him such things exist in here, he just found them after cleaning around the house. It was personalized by you and him. He could tell by the design and handwritten captions. 

Almost everything was documented through photos and other knick knacks like receipts from a movie you two saw together. Browsing through the pages of it, it felt like looking at other people’s relationships even though he was in the photos himself. In one of the photos, he saw himself with a camera. He didn’t even know he had one. He tried searching around the house for it but he never found it. 

You had more solo portraits in the said books than him. He figured out why. Maybe he really loved capturing you as his subject. You looked the same in every picture: happy and in love. Most of your pictures were candid, taken without you knowing. Then, a handwritten date by him will be seen below it. Each photo was adorable. Some are just random ones. You were brushing your teeth or showing off your colorful scrubs (which was written in the caption: BOUGHT HER YELLOW DUCKIES SCRUBS I THINK SHE LIKES IT).

Taehyung spend his sleepless nights like this, looking back at what he missed. He read through articles before that the possibility of getting his memories back is a hit or miss. So he learned to just go on and maybe accept how things became. He tries to move forward at the same time he tries to look back. It’s quite confusing sometimes.

IT’S HER… I’M SURE 

That was the caption in one photo of you dating just weeks after you two moved into this house. In the picture, your back was turned as you sat in front of your vanity table. You can be seen fixing your hair while looking at your reflection. Taehyung’s eyebrow raised with the caption. He wondered what it meant. He turned the page to the next one but was greeted with nothing but a blank page. Turns out, that was the most recent one.

“The main branch of their restaurant is somewhere in Incheon. I’ll send you the address after the call.” 

Taehyung listened to Jimin through a loudspeaker call. His hair is still damp from a shower. Standing in front of the mirror, he compares two coats that would suit the rest of his outfit. He felt the need to look presentable tonight.

“You will meet the owner herself, Ashley. She said you can just introduce yourself to the host and he’ll lead you to your table… Ava kept the samples in the shop. She said she put them in different Tupperware so you can spot it right away.” Jimin instructed.

“Okay, okay.”

He heard his best friend sigh on the other line, “I’m sorry for the short notice, Tae. I totally forgot Jihoon will be staying with me tonight.”

Tonight, Taehyung will be meeting a special client. It’s the one who called a couple of weeks ago, during your birthday. it‘s a big restaurant that is planning to put the bakeshop’s products on their menu for dessert. Specifically, the cakes. The head chef was the one who brought up their product to the owner, whom he will meet now. Jimin initially agreed to meet the said client but his co-parenting schedule had some shifts. Just an hour ago, Taehyung learned he’d be the one meeting the client. It’s not like he had plans anyway. So, he immediately prepared himself.

After picking the clothes, Taehyung blow-dried and brushed his hair. His best friend sent the main address minutes later and so he left his apartment. He first drove by the shop, which closed a little earlier today. A lot of cakes were made for sample. It includes Jimin’s Carrot Cake, his own cheesecake, and six other more. Taehyung left with a brown bag of the samples.

His fingers tapped with the beat of the song playing on the radio as he drove his way to the restaurant. It was a peaceful night on the road. 

This will be the first time Taehyung will be going back to Incheon since that time he went sightseeing. He stayed there for just three days before, it was days after his phone notified him about your supposedly fifth anniversary. His emotions were all over the place because of the aftermath and the demanding work in the bakeshop around that time. So he asked Jimin for a very short break. He still hasn’t got a car then so he took the subway throughout the whole time. It was during his last day there when he saw a glimpse of you in the crowded subways of that city. He remembered you were in your scrubs, your hair was cleanly kept in a low bun, and you were walking opposite of his direction. Then, he blinked. You were gone in the crowded place.

“Good evening, sir.”

Almost forty minutes later, Taehyung arrived at the restaurant, Starry Night. He was greeted by the host as he entered the elegant place. It has a great ambiance, romantic. It is a fine-dining restaurant and seems like a perfect spot for dinner dates. 

He said his name when he was asked.  And while the man looked down at his guest list, Taehyung’s eyes traveled around the place. And not even a minute in, his eyes stopped at someone who he felt had been staring at him.

His eyes widened at the sight. A stunning woman, clad in a black dress, stares back at him with surprise. His mouth ran dry, he had to gulp. Now, he’s sure. He’s sure.

It’s you.

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RESTARTING OVER AGAIN TAGLIST [🔧🔨 ]

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[theoneprecioustome]

Aikoto at the 1st Anniversary Radio Show

I wanted to gather everything in one place for easy access and easier archiving!

Two Aikoto Comments Chosen

A couple of weeks ago, the Atlus JP Account asked us to send comments that we'd like Lotus Juice, Wada and Yamaguchi to reply to during the radio show. Seven comments were hand-picked, and two of them were my Aikoto comments!

They were used to introduce the discussion about Disconnected & Don't. Here is what Lotus Juice had to say about both songs:

Disconnected

"What we wanted to represent with that is Aigis' feelings. After what happened with the Protagonist, she was left behind." He also reveals that during the rap, Aigis is meant to be talking to Makoto, wondering what would he do if he were in her place.

Don't

Lotus Juice confirms the chorus is meant to be about Aigis' feelings for Makoto 😭

The last thing he saw

They got a question about this scene! Yamaguchi revealed that scene was something he really wanted to add, so he was the one who suggested it. "The final view... I wanted the players, who are his alter-ego, to see that final view too. So that why I added that scene, and it was a cut that we paid a lot of attention to."

The scene received high praise from Wada and Lotus Juice, which made Yamaguchi happy that people were paying attention to it. He went on to add: "That's right. That part is the end, the last view he sees at the moment when his life truly ends, and I added it because I really wanted everyone to see it, so I'm glad that it has reached the players."

The rooftop scene

Lastly, they briefly discussed the rooftop scene before playing Memories of You. Wada commented that the rooftop scene was so carefully crafted that he was amazed when he first saw it, which prompted Yamaguchi to confirm it was the scene they put the most effort into. "I believe that everyone spent 100 hours playing the game in order to see that scene, so we were absolutely determined to create the best thing we could, with absolutely no compromises."

As far as Wada is concerned, the rooftop scene was so amazing that it raised the overall quality of the game by at least one level (I agree) 😂

Extra

The Aikoto + Koro illustration was used as cover for the radio show! Also, out of the 5 songs played, 3 were Aikoto (Disconnected, Don't and Memories of You).

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter eleven

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: I'd like to say week was crazy and that's the reason the update took a little longer than usual, but actually I had the week off and I was just taking a break! Anyways, things are starting to get a little crazy now...oops

Series Masterlist

word count: 2.3k

How many more women would die? 

And how much time did that buy her before she was next?

Two nights after the second murder–another woman who eerily resembled y/n–she finally got a text from that same unknown number. 

11 tonight, same place. 

She was almost giddy. She had been hiding in her room for two days like a good girl, trying not to bug Gordon or even Martinez as they investigated the second murder. But she’d be damned if she wasn’t going crazy again already. 

The news was calling it a potential serial killer, but she knew better. They all knew better. 

It was the Gallo family hunting her down. 

She dressed in warm, dark clothes again and texted Alfred where she was going. She wanted to leave early, but knew it was a bad idea. She waited until a couple of minutes after eleven to go downstairs, just to be sure the Batman was out there. As she stepped into the elevator his one word text came through. Outside. 

She was excited to see him. She finally had something to look forward to, and it was talking to a vigilante, of all things. 

And there he was, leaning against the motorcycle without a care in the world. She let her eyes trail from his legs crossed at the ankle to his crossed arms to his masked face. Despite the fact he was literally covered head to toe, a thrill went through her. 

“Hi,” she said lamely when she was close enough. 

He simply handed her the helmet and got back on the bike. 

Some of the excitement went out of her like a balloon deflating. “No hello?” she said, her voice light and teasing.

“Hello. Ready?” he asked when her arms were around his waist. She rolled her eyes. 

“Ready.” 

They sped off into the night. She let her eyes close. She was almost at peace for the first time in weeks, and it was in the wake of another murder and on the back of a motorcycle with a vigilante she barely knew. 

But she had not been made to be idle. Sitting at home, hiding from mobsters, was doing her in. Add to that not only boredom, but grief and painful memories from all sides, and she was surprised she really hadn’t jumped out of a window yet. It was the reason she and Bruce were constantly sneaking out as kids, the reason she had taken extra classes for fun in college, the reason she did things that were objectively stupid. The reason she was an investigative reporter and not in a more steady, safe job. 

The motorcycle jolted to a stop. 

She opened her eyes and slid off, tucking the helmet under her arm. 

Even though she knew what to expect, the fear still stole her breath. She really, really hated heights, and yet she was willingly going up onto rooftops. Stupid. She muttered to herself as the soft noise of the grappling hook split the quiet air. 

Y/n tried really hard not to embarrass herself by clinging to Batman, but it didn’t work. At least this time, she let go quickly and didn’t fall on her ass. 

She cleared her throat as she stepped away and murmured a thanks. She inched carefully towards the center of the rooftop to get her bearings. It was a different roof this time, next door to the one they’d been on that first night. 

“Thanks for doing this,” she said quietly as she set up her camera. The pub below was twice as busy now that it was the weekend. 

“Is it so bad at home?” he asked after she had taken several pictures, startling her. She glanced over at him, but he was busy studying the street below. His gloved fingers tapped an idle rhythm on his leg. 

“Yes,” she said without thinking. She looked through the camera’s viewfinder and adjusted another setting for the low light and the distance. “I mean–sort of. It’s complicated.” 

“Complicated?” 

The camera shutter was the only sound between them for a minute. “I told you my grandmother and my mother died.” A soft noise of assent. “And to start with, Wayne Tower, as nice as it is, is full of memories of my grandmother. She raised me. Every time I walk around a corner I–” The words stuck in her throat as the grief rose unbidden within her. “–I have no idea if something is going to remind me of her and then I have to remember that she’s gone. It’s like getting punched every time. Or having the breath knocked out of you.” 

“I understand,” he said softly, and she knew that he had lost someone too. 

She blinked back tears and nodded. She focused on the pictures to distract herself. “On top of that–” She couldn’t admit it. Because how pitiful would it sound? How stupid, how childish, would it sound to say, On top of that, I told Bruce Wayne that I loved him three years ago and he broke my heart and I still can’t stand to be around him. “It’s complicated,” she finally said again. “Someone broke my heart, and I haven’t gotten over it. I’m not sure I ever will.” Her voice lowered until the last words were almost a whisper, choking her until she could barely speak. 

There was a sharp intake of breath next to her. 

She faced him but he was staring below.

She frowned and tried to see what she had missed that made him make that noise, but she couldn’t see anything. 

They lapsed into silence. 

“Got any snacks in that fun belt of yours?” she asked a while later. Her voice was falsely light to her own ears. But what else was she supposed to do? She had basically trauma dumped on a virtual stranger. It was awkward, too awkward. She grit her teeth and silently cursed her mouth for running away from her, like usual. 

A huff that might have been a laugh. “No. No snacks.” 

She faced him fully this time, one hand on her hip while the other still held the camera. “No snacks? What kind of vigilante are you if you aren’t prepared for everything?” 

He shrugged but he was smiling. “A bad one, I guess.” 

“I’m making my own belt for next time and filling it with snacks,” she muttered. 

Things were a little easier after that. Batman still didn’t talk much, but she did come to learn that he made most of his gadgets too–like the gauntlets that held a grappling hook–and most of those things he had added after bad experiences. 

“One time I fell in the sewer because I didn’t have a flashlight,” he said in a low voice. She had to smother her laugh so as not to draw attention. “Now I have two.” 

She was also able to elicit an answer about his favorite snacks, learning that he had a surprising sweet tooth. She asked if he ate healthy in order to stay in shape for being a vigilante, and he answered that his diet focused on strength and stamina. She made a joke about protein shakes that had him turning a cough into a laugh. 

It was nearly one in the morning when she saw him. 

They had been chatting quietly, the music coming from the perpetually open pub door drowning most of it out, when a man stepped outside. 

Y/n almost dropped the camera. 

“He’s here,” she said in a whisper. She quickly snapped pictures. 

She hadn’t expected to recognize the man who had escaped. 

But there he was, standing below her, talking to one of the women smoking as she leaned against the bricks by the front door. 

“You’re sure?” Batman asked. 

She could feel her pulse pounding in her throat. Her hands shook so badly she had to fight to steady them so as to get a good picture. 

He had been closest to her that night. His face in the most light. 

He had been holding the gun. 

It played in her mind again, the noise drawing their attention, the almost slow-motion turn of four heads. 

“Fuck,” she whispered. 

And, somehow, it was like the man heard her.

He looked up, across the street and to the roof, and met her eyes.

Y/n scrambled back away from the edge. 

“He saw me,” she whispered. “He saw me.” 

Batman was crouched next to her, hidden by the low wall that ran around the entire edge of the building. 

“You’re sure?” he said again, but his eyes were on her face this time. It was too dark to tell what color they were. Probably not brown–they were too light. 

She mentally shook herself to focus. “I’m positive.” 

It was his turn to curse. “Fuck,” he muttered. He grabbed his phone and texted something quickly. He was actually good at texting–she had expected him to text like an old man with just his pointer finger. 

He put the phone away and crept closer to the edge of the building. He peeked his head over the wall, barely clearing it, but it was enough. He ducked back down as a shout rang out. 

“Oh God,” y/n said. The fear threatened to overwhelm her. If the pub was a hangout for the Gallo family–and at this point, she was certain it was–that meant a lot of armed men and maybe women were right there. 

They were trapped there, the motorcycle hidden next to a dumpster down below. 

Next to a very convenient fire escape that led straight to where the two of them were currently crouched. 

“Listen to me,” Batman said, drawing her focus. He was crouched over her where she was still splayed in a half-crouch from her mad dash to get out of sight. He touched her chin. “Do exactly as I say. We’re going to have to move fast. The priority is getting you and that camera out of here and not leading them home, do you understand?” 

She nodded frantically. “Yes,” she said on a breath. “What do we do? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–” 

“It’s not your fault.” He was grabbing something off of his belt and texting at the same time. “Gordon’s on the way but it’ll be too late. If they’re smart, they’re going to surround the building. Someone will be sent to the roof from inside, someone up the fire escape.” He held three small flat disks in his hand and pocketed the phone again. “When they’re distracted, we’re going to make a break for it. Can you drive the motorcycle if you have to?” 

She stared at him, openmouthed. “Yes,” she said after a second. “Bruce taught me, years ago. I can figure it out.” 

“Good. I’ll stay to fight if–” 

“No!” she said, the word too loud in the darkness. Below, it had gone quiet. Too quiet. 

Batman seemed to realize it at the same time, his head tilted. “The music’s off,” he murmured. “We’re going to have to move.” 

He crept to the edge of the wall and peered over.

A gunshot echoed through the night. A chunk of brick exploded close to Batman’s head. She squeaked and covered her mouth to hide the sound. Her eyes were wide as he came back to her side. 

“Hold on tight. Run if I say run. Do you understand?” 

She nodded. She had never been so afraid, even that first night she had met him. She hadn’t been surrounded then. She hadn’t had to do anything but run and now–now there was so much more on the line. 

“If you have to leave me behind, do not go straight home. Ride around as much as you can, as randomly as you can, and try to meet Gordon somewhere. Got it?” 

He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her, still crouched, to the spot closest to where the motorcycle was. 

He was giving her so many instructions she could barely keep up. Run, stay alive, get to Gordon. Leave him behind if she had to. 

She didn’t want to leave him behind. She didn’t know if she could. 

He let go of her long enough to throw each of the three flat disks in a separate direction. Two landed in the alley below, one at each end. 

“Ready?” he asked, an echo of the start of their night. He held something out to her. The motorcycle key. 

She shook her head but he was grabbing her anyway. There were three small explosions. Smoke poured out of the ground. There was shouting, gunfire. 

She realized her face was wet with terrified tears. 

Batman leapt. 

The ground rushed up at them fast, too fast, and she fought against the instinct to hold on tighter, to close her eyes. She needed them wide open, needed to be ready to run. 

With a yank, he pulled up right before they hit the pavement, and landed impossibly softly on his feet. 

There was smoke everywhere now. She could barely make out the dumpster the motorcycle was hidden behind. 

“Go,” he whispered in her ear and gave her a shove. 

She ran. 

There was more gunfire behind her and she ducked on instinct. Her hands smacked against the side of the dumpster as she lost her balance. 

“Over here!” she heard from somewhere in the smoke. There was a loud grunt and more gunshots. Her heart was pounding so loud it echoed the gunfire in her ears. 

She sobbed through her teeth as she ran the last few feet to the motorcycle. She could see nothing in the smoke other than shadows and the vaguest outlines of the streetlights at either end of the alley. 

She almost dropped the key but managed to slide it into the ignition. She waited to start it, waiting for one shadow in particular to materialize into a familiar form. Where was he? He hadn’t told her to leave without him, but what if–

She screamed as hands grabbed her and yanked her off of the motorcycle. 

Next Chapter

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[fateisnotafactor]

Apparently I'm on a writing rampage today.

Pretty sure this is SFW, but if I continue it, it definitely won't be. There's some texting in here and I'll try to reformat it when I get home, just let me know if it's hard to read. (Part 2)

Shouta takes Hizashi out in the wilderness for some survival training and just fucking hunts him. Hizashi is spooked by everything, Shouta moves silently, sticking in the shadows. Hizashi flinches as a twig snaps from across the clearing. Oh, it's just a bunny. He starts to relax only to be wrapped up in Shouta's scarf, dangling upside down from a tree, and Shouta walks up chuckling and just gives him a little spiderman-style kiss before dropping him onto the ground in a tangle of scarf. "You're getting there. We'll try again next year, love."

Next year they bring a pretty little thing and hunt her together. How else is Hizashi going to learn to like the great outdoors?

Hizashi has had his eye on you since that Gala a few months back. You were a fan, so excited to shake his hand and take a picture with him. Shouta noticed how he perked right up, the way his hand slid down your hip as he asked Shouta to take one more, just in case one of you blinked. You blushed of course. Flattered that someone you looked up to was so thoughtful and not just doing the obligatory smile, click, 'move along.'

Shouta bumped into you at the grocery store a couple of weeks later and struck up a conversation. "Marshmallows? Chocolate? Graham crackers? Are you going camping by any chance?"

Well, what a coincidence. So were Shouta and Hizashi. It took a little bit of convincing for you to tell him where you were going, and all by yourself?

"Not to intrude, but would you like some company? It's not safe out there alone. There's been a few bear sightings in that area."

Not to mention that Shouta is an expert at wilderness survival. They had actually been planning on heading to that same park, just a little deeper into the mountains. He has a special permit since they're going to be setting up a summer camp for the students this year. Oh, did he mention that his partner Hizashi was a teacher too? Yeah, that Hizashi. Your favorite radio star.

Now that certainly piqued your interest. Sure, you'll have to make some changes to what you were going to pack, but since your friends backed out a couple weeks ago, well after you could rearrange your time off with your boss, having some company actually sounds like a lot of fun.

Shouta exchanges numbers with you, texting to make sure you had his, and then let you head home. He'll touch base later tonight after he tells Hizashi the good news.

Hizashi remembers you. Of course he does. As soon as you tagged him in the photo, he liked and commented saying that it was always great to meet a fan. He hoped it didn't seem too overly enthusiastic or out of the norm for him. He followed you back and scrolled through your timeline. You don't post much, or if you do, your privacy settings wouldn't let him see everything. Most of it is posts that you've been tagged in, and he has to be extra careful not to accidentally double tap to like any of these posts, especially now that he's a couple years back on your timeline.

You actually seem to enjoy the outdoors. He shudders as he sees you posing next to some beetle on a tree. The thing is absolutely massive. *Fuck.* He accidentally liked the post as he tried to scroll away from the infernal thing. But then you messaged him?

You: Heyyy, so Shouta kind of invited me camping with you. Are you interested in conservation efforts too? I saw you just liked that pic of the rhinoceros beetle. Don't you think it's a shame that people are still trafficking endangered species?

What's he supposed to say to that? He hates bugs, but you're trying to find common ground with him.

Hizashi: Yeah. Smugglers are the worst.

You: Right?! I'm so glad you're so passionate about endangered species too! I really hope we see some so we can add to the national count going on!

You're ... actually excited about bugs? Maybe if he says yes, you'll want to help him too? It's been a while since he and Shouta had a pretty little thing to go "camping" with. If he played his cards right, maybe this year he won't be the prey.

Hizashi: Yeah, I'd like that. Hey, how do you feel about survival games?

You: Like Minecraft? Haha

Hizashi: LOL

Hizashi: No

Hizashi: More like a more adult version of hide and seek tag

Hizashi: Wait not like that

You: Haha like that dangerous game story but for fun?

Hizashi: Yeah! Like that!

You: Can't say I've ever played that.

You: But I'm open to giving it a try

Hizashi feels all fuzzy inside, practically kicking his feet at the idea of you running through the woods, looking back over your shoulder to see him running through the trees after you. He knows he's nowhere near as graceful as he imagines, but for you, he would give it his all.

He looks up to find Shouta looking over his shoulder. "She said she's interested!"

"Mhm."

"Shou, please, please, please? She offered! She said she was open to it!"

Shouta sighs, unable to resist the look on Hizashi's face. "Fine."

"Yes!"

It was like Hizashi was a completely different man, suddenly rushing to pack his things for the trip. Something he had been putting off for the entire week, while Shouta was already fully packed. He pulls out your phone to text you.

Shouta: Sounds like Hizashi is excited that you agreed to come with us.

You: Oh that's great! I hope you guys don't mind me tagging along. I've never actually gone that deep into the park. This is going to be a first for me!

Shouta: Don't worry, we'll make sure you don't wander off and get lost. I've had to work plenty of rescues out there, and it sounds like you have some experience. It'll be fun.

You: I can't wait!!! Is there anything special I should bring? Extra water? Supplies? Heavier gear?

Shouta: Don't worry about all that, we'll have more than enough for the three of us. Just bring what you normally do and let me and Hizashi take care of everything else.

Shouta couldn't help but smile at how excited you seemed to be at joining them on their little annual trip. He'd be sure to keep an extra close eye on you. Figure out your patterns, your habits, your skill level. Hell, if they played their cards right, maybe you could be a recurring guest on their hunting trips.

He wonders how much of a fight you'll put up against them. Will you have to tap out? How long would it take for him to have you tied up all pretty, hanging from a tree? Would you celebrate with them afterward?

He pulls his lower lip between his teeth as he pulls up your social media. Tapping through to a friend's page who had tagged you. Well, well, well. Look at that.

He finds a album from a rock climbing trip you went on a few weeks ago, dangling off the side of a rocky ledge. Smile plastered to your face as you hang, practical upside down with no harness. You can't be far off the ground, but he can already tell that this is going to be more fun than he's had in years.

---

Part 2 (SFW) Masterlist (And where I try to post my fics)