#change combo spin

[pikachu-deluxe]

been thinking recently about how i play games (in general but also a bit on the competitive side on some)

turns out i don't particularly care about winning, i just want to have fun, but obviously i do like winning i just try to do win by doing very stupid stuff

it's way more fun for everyone involved when you do things against the meta or common sense and end up winning anyways bc it's so weird that it takes others by surprise

[chloecorvid]

Personal but…

I would just… really like to request to the universe to give me some answers on my bloodwork. Like… I’m already grieving the possible diagnoses I was told, just confirm it or something else, please. Cuz it’s a difference between medication for a bit of time or a chronic condition and I gotta know which to grapple with… and with no answer I am struggling with both/all options right now LMAO

[moremaybank]

Any Dad!JJ? You’re just one of the best at writing him.

dad!jj for the soul !!!!! i hope you enjoy, angel! i really enjoyed writing this one! 🤍

jj's elated when he sees his six year old babygirl, avery, walking out of her classroom. it's three-thirty on the dot, a time jj looks forward to daily when he picks up your daughter and takes her to work with him while they wait for you to meet them there after work.

avery reaches him, and he crouches down to her height so he can press a kiss to her cheek. "hi, babygirl."

"hi, daddy!"

he loves how chipper his little girl gets when she's around him. she lets it be known that she adores his presence, and that's what he's always dreamed of as a parent.

"mama killed it on your hair today," he says. he yanks gently at one of the braids you'd put into her hair earlier this morning. "look at these. phew. think my babygirl's a model."

she giggles at her father's affectionate words, cheeks heating with love. her squeals grow louder when jj scoops her up and makes his way to his truck. he buckles her into her booster seat, ruffling up the top of her hair playfully before shutting the door and getting into the driver's seat.

"hey, daddy?"

"'sup, aves?" he asks, pulling out of the parking lot and starting on the journey to the auto shop.

"what colours do boys like best?"

he arches a brow. "what d'ya mean, sweet girl?"

"dunno...like what colour do you like most on mama?"

"hmmm," jj says, pondering out loud. "that's a hard one, baby. i think your mama looks good in everythin'."

an adorable huff escapes her pursed lips. "daddy. 'm serious. you have to pick one."

the truck zooms down the road, passing by avery's favourite fast food joint. jj can't help but speed up just a smidge, hoping and praying that she won't look out the window and wrangle a chicken finger combo out of him. 'cause then he'd have to get one for her. he's never said no to his princess and he doesn't plan on changing that any time soon.

"mm, i guess i'd say red. i like when she wears that matching lipstick too."

jj looks up at the rear view mirror, catching the way avery nods before a presumable heat takes over her face. the dimple she'd gotten from him peeks through as she smiles to herself.

"what're you smilin' about?"

"nothing, daddy. i just think i'm gonna wear red for the dance tomorrow."

he arches a brow, but he doesn't push her on her answer. "whatever you want, babygirl."

˖ . ݁ 𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

jj hears the click-clacking of high heels against the floors of the auto-shop, and he doesn't need to wheel out from underneath the station wagon he's working on to know it's you.

"hi, mommy!" avery greets cheerfully, getting off the spinning chair jj had secured for her from the break room. she runs over to you as quickly as her smaller feet can manage, and you meet her with an equally thrilled grin. you pick her up and squeeze her into a tight hug.

"hi, baby." you smooth down some of her frizz. "how was school?"

"it was good. chrissy shared her chocolate bar with me, and kyle gave me a flower at recess."

neither of you can see it, but jj makes a face under the car.

kyle? who the fuck was kyle?

"he's a good best friend to you, baby," you tell her. "did you thank him?"

"yes. and he's not my best friend anymore, mama. he's my boyfriend."

this time, you do see jj's reaction. or, rather, hear it anyway.

"what?!"

something that sounds like a bang rings through the air, followed by a shit (to which your daughter snickers, always one to find her father hilarious). then, he rolls out from beneath the vehicle, rubbing his forehead to ease the sharp pain. his eyes find your daughter's, though, and he's as stern as you've ever seen him.

"aves— you can't have a boyfriend!"

"daddy, i'm six. i'm not a baby," avery reminds him, sounding every bit like a teenager instead of her actual age. the sass never failed to make you smile.

just like her daddy.

"yes, you are still a baby! my baby!"

"j—" you interject.

"nah. nope. no way."

"why don't you go back over there and colour, angel?" she nods, and you set her down, watching as she runs back to her chair. she takes a sip of her apple juice, bringing her attention back to her artwork.

deciding she's not at all bothered by jj's theatrics, you walk over to him and help him stand. you look up into his cerulean eyes when he towers above you. "babe, relax. she's six."

"exactly! she's a baby! she can't have a boyfriend. s'just not happenin'."

you give him a knowing smile, your arms looping around the back of his neck. "you were my boyfriend when we were six," you remind him. "don't think you found anything wrong about that back then."

he frowns, but pulls you in closer by your hips anyway. no matter what, any time he's around you without touching you, it just seems like a waste.

"that's different. i was a nice boy."

you both realize avery's been listening quietly when she chimes in. "kyle's nice too, daddy. he kisses my cheek everyday at the end of school."

she says it like it's a fact. like kyle never misses out on what infuriatingly sounds like a tradition to jj.

jj thinks he's having a stroke.

"he's puttin' his lips on you, now?!" his forehead falls to your shoulder, and he slumps against you like the six-foot baby he is. "oh god, i think i'm gonna be sick." a beat passes, and then he distances himself from you. the sulk is still prominent on his face, and now, it's probably permanent. he pulls at his collar, shifting uncomfortably as he tries to fan himself off. "'m i sweating?"

avery hops down from her chair, strutting over to her father and tugging at the leg of his coveralls, silently requesting that he crouch down to her height. of course, jj immediately falls in line.

"don't be mad, daddy."

"wait, wait, wait— is kyle the reason you're wearin' red tomorrow?!"

"don't worry, daddy." she pats his cheek like he's the one who needs reassurance. to be fair, he clearly is. "kyle's nice. just like you."

and with that, she trots off back to her chair with a cheshire cat smile, clearly feeling accomplished.

"yeah. he better be," jj mutters bitterly, standing back up.

your hands reach out to grab a hold of your husband again, and it draws his attention back to you. your hands frame his face and you give him a smile. "you're gonna be a total nightmare when she grows up and gets a boyfriend or girlfriend for real."

"damn right, i will. like i said, she's my baby."

you raise a brow. "i thought i was your baby?"

his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and then his mouth forms into a smirk. "see now, she's my baby. but you're my baby." his hands migrate down to your ass and he gives you a squeeze. "you pickin' up what i'm puttin' down?"

"oh, i think i am."

concepts ; concepts (ii)

[pnghoon]

daddy's in a tutu !!

(🩰) ── 𝓟ARK JONGSEONG [제이] ⁞ ㅤㅤ𝓰. fluff, humor, married auㅤㅤ୨୧ㅤㅤ warnings : est. relationship, not proofread, pet-namesㅤ⟡ㅤ!nonidol hubby !jay 𝔁 wife !reader ᯓ ꒰ wc : 1.3k꒱ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤsynopsis .ᐟ in which you come back home to the sight of your husband in a pretty pink tutu (•̪ o •̪) ── 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ᡣ𐭩

juno's note ─ "unfortunately I can imagine him in a tutu if our daughter asked him too" is so jay coded. you will never not catch me yapping about husband jay..bc why is that man so hubby material. if you enjoyed reading this, please be sure to like & reblog !! ♡

the snow was falling heavily outside, blanketing the world in a soft, white layer. inside your cozy home, you were busy getting ready for a day of much-needed errands.

bustling around the house, you pulled on your warmest winter coat and bundled up, ready to brave the icy roads.

before you left, you turned to your husband, jay, and your four year old daughter, yubin, who was sitting on the couch, hugging her favorite pink stuffed bunny.

you stared at your daughter's crestfallen face as she cuddled up beside jay. It was the inevitable that the four year old would be upset right now. due to the icy roads and heavy snow, today's ballet class was canceled, leaving yubin devastated.

“are you sure you'll be okay?” you asked, fixing the scarf around your neck and grabbing your purse.

jay looked up from the couch, where he was busy trying to cheer up yubin, her eyes still a bit puffy from the earlier tears and her nose resembling rudolph.

“we'll be fine,” he reassured with a smile, “right, princess?”

yubin nodded half-heartedly, a cute pout still present on her face as she clutched her bunny.

“you guys call me if you need anything,” you reminded them, pressing a kiss to jay's cheek and ruffling yubin's hair. “i'll be back soon.”

and with one last look at your two favorite people, you braved the snowy outdoors. the cold air nipped at your cheeks, but the promise of hot cocoa and a warm house kept you going.

you made your way to the car, shaking your head with a smile at how cute they looked together. little did you know, an adventure was unfolding inside.

jay and yubin huddled together in the living room, surrounded by the warmth of the heater and the faint sound of delicate snowflakes hitting the window.

yubin wore her little ballet outfit, a mini bun perched on the crown of her head as she practiced her pirouettes.

jay on the other hand, was trying his best to keep up with her, although his ballet skills were definitely less refined.

“okay binnie, let’s try that spin again,” jay said, puffing slightly. “i think i’ve got it now.”

yubin giggled, her cheeks flushed with excitement as he watched her dad try to catch his breath from just a couple twirls.

“daddy, you’re doing great! but…”

“but what, sweetheart?” jay asked, glancing down at her with a raised brow.

“i think you need a tutu too!”

jay blinked. he hadn't anticipated that request. “a tu..tu? i don’t know if that’s a good idea honey...”

“pleeease, daddy?” yubin begged, giving him her best puppy eyes. “it’ll be so much fun!”

jay stared at his daughter for a moment, his heart swelling in his chest at the sight of her big round eyes staring up at him.

after a moment of thought, jay reluctantly sighed, giving in to her adorable plea. “alright, alright. if it’ll make you happy, i’ll wear a tutu.”

and with that, jay found himself sporting a frilly tutu that barely fit his hips, his face turning an adorable shade of pink to match the tutu. yubin clapped her hands in delight, twirling around in her own tutu.

“we're matching now daddy!” yubin cheered, jumping around in her ballet slippers.

jay laughed, looking down at the slight new change of wardrobe. it was definitely a combo to say the least, never in his life would he expect sweats to look so good with a tutu.

“isn't that right binnie?” he commented, extending his hand for yubin to take. “now, let's get back to those grand jeté's we were working on earlier eh?”

yubin squealed, immediately accepting his requests with the grasp of her tiny fingers and a wide smile plastered on her face.

“yes please!”

as they continued their ballet practice, the living room had turned into a makeshift stage for the two, with yubin and jay performing a whimsical ballet routine, the sweet melodies of the nutcracker adding the perfect touch to their chaotic performance.

“okay, let’s see your best grand jeté!” yubin called out, her tiny arms reaching out dramatically.

jay attempted a grand jeté, but ended up looking more like an enthusiastic baby goose learning to fly, his arms flailing in the air.

yubin giggled uncontrollably, trying to mimic her dad's moves with even more dramatizing flair.

they pranced around the living room for what seemed like hours, their tutus fluttering in sync with every twirl and leap. for jay’s sake, they would take periodic breaks throughout the practice.

during these breaks, yubin would watch in amusement as her dad rested his hands on his waist, desperately trying to regain his composure. let’s just say, it was like watching a wind-up toy wind down.

after what felt like ages, you were finally heading home. sure, the sweet jingle of christmas music and the warm smell of cinnamon from each errand stop were enduring, but what you were really looking forward to was being wrapped up in a warm, cozy blanket with the two people you love most.

as you pulled into the driveway, the house looked picture perfect against the snowy backdrop. you carried your bags inside, balancing them as you nudged the door open with your hip.

“i'm back!” you called out, kicking off your snowy boots and setting the bags down in the kitchen. “i got all the goodies!”

no response. now you were curious.

you walked further into the house slowly, following the sound of familiar classical music you knew all too well. peeking around the corner, you stopped in your tracks, eyes wide and mouth agape.

there, in the middle of the living room was your husband, in a bright pink tutu that barely fit his athletic build. matching his outfit was your daughter, her own tutu flaring out as she twirled around, her giggles a melody of their own. they were completely in the zone, unaware of your presence.

If you were being frank, the scene was too precious to interrupt. jay was trying to execute an arabesque, but his balance was off, making yubin laugh even more.

“come on, daddy! like this!” she demonstrated with the grace only a child could have, and jay tried again, a bit more successfully this time.

you couldn’t hold back your laughter any longer, and jay’s head practically spun at the sound, his face turning even redder from embarrassment.

“oh- hey honey! um, well, yubin wanted to practice ballet–” he explained, his voice trailing off at the end.

“don't stop on my account,” you teased, revealing yourself from behind the wall as you took in the scene before you in all it’s glory.

yubin ran over to you, her eyes shimmering with excitement.

“mommy, look! daddy's my ballet partner!”

you couldn't help but chuckle, kneeling down to hug your daughter. “i can see that," you commented through giggles, your gaze flickering towards your husband for a moment. “and I must say.. he's doing a pretty fantastic job.”

“why thank you.” jay answered. he tried to pull off a graceful bow, but from the energy he had just exerted to his recent performance with his daughter, he stumbled a bit.

you couldn't stop laughing, tears forming in your eyes. “oh, jay, you're a sight.”

jay grinned, walking over to join you and there daughter. “anything for our little princess. plus, i think i’ve found a new appreciation for tutus.”

later that evening, after yubin was tucked into bed, you and jay found yourselves cuddled on the couch, the soft glow of the christmas tree lights casting a warm glow to the room.

“you really made her day today, y'know,” you murmured, resting your head on jay's chest.

“well, that's what dads are for, right?” he replied, his fingers playing with a strand of your hair.

“i think you might have missed your calling as a ballet dancer,” you teased, nudging his side with your elbow.

jay laughed, pulling you closer. “i'll stick to my day job, thanks. but for yubin, i'd wear a tutu any day.”

you smiled, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you. “and that's exactly why you’re so amazing.”

𝓢igning off... @pnghoon

── 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 [OPEN 🗯] @onlyhees @amouriu @greentulip @enhluv1 @samiikeu @hoonwhile @dearrwoni @won4kiss @jakesangel

[misscammiedawn]

it's important to have a time loop code phrase, something that if someone says "I'm in a time loop, you have to believe me!" you tell them the code so on their next loop they say the code and you believe them.

Thing is your codes are weak and easily guessed or circumvented by tricksters and pranksters alike.

It needs to be a multi-factor authentication cipher that you never explain or you'll only get to share each code once or someone comes up to you and says a thing and you wonder if you posted online about it at some point.

I recommend a word and date based equation combo. Like mine for today could be "Snake 3443" because today is 10/24/2023 so 10+24 20+23 = 3443.

Of course, now I've told you that I have to change my equation cipher.

It's wise to add in a third factor by day of the week and add some "you'd only know this if I told you in a time loop scenario" kind of thing.

You may think that is a lot of plates to keep spinning but I want you to keep your eye on the prize and think of the unhinged look on your friends face as they approach you for in their perspective is the twelve billionth time as they say "Snake 3443, Mittens on the 4th floor, Tuesday is Jazz Day and if the current minute of the day is an odd number it's Pineapple and if it's even it's anchovy. I hate you and I wish we weren't friends, no that's not part of the password but do you have any idea how frustrating it is to do this every single fucking day and I promise there is no question you can possibly ask me that will make you believe me any further so can we just get on with this?"

It's worth it. Trust me.

I know.

[team7-headquarter]

*open the gifs for better quality <3

Kakashi spins SO MUCH compared to Obito in their fights, but as someone who trained martial arts for many years, I get it, you know?

First of all, Kakashi loves his kicks. It puts some distance between you and your target, you can protect the upper half of your body by leaning back, a well thrown kick can send your adversary flying or staggering back, etc.

The cool part is that Kakashi uses a lot of back spinning kicks. They have more strength behind them because you use your entire body and the energy the movement creates. If you dominate the techniques and you've trained your balance so you won't get dizzy, it's almost expected to use kicking combos.

I'll try to explain?? It's a bit hard, but I want it to be easy to understand for someone who doesn't know how the kicking dynamic works.

Okay, so—

There are different parts of the foot you can use to cause different types of damage. It depends on how you're standing and from which direction you're kicking. So imagine you stand with your body facing a side and while you look ahead. Your right foot is behind and you want to kick with that one— you retract your right knee, you bring your right leg up and closer to your body, all the while your left foot starts to shift its position to look back. At the same time you extend your right leg, your left foot shifts. The movement is explosive and your body is now facing the opposite side.

You are already half spinning!

If you don't land the hit, you can always set your right foot down and keep the flow of your body to back kick with the heel or arch of your left foot. If that one kick doesn't hit, you can set your left foot down and... Kick again with your right! Now you're facing ahead again!

The best (like Kakashi) can spin without setting a foot down, basically using the movement to keep them afloat.

I'm making it all so way more simple than it is and the combinations can vary pretty drastically, but as I was saying, Kakashi is a practical fighter and he loves to use every single thing available while he fights.

The reason why he fights so elegantly is because, like in a dance, he uses the flow to move, to guide the fight, to shift the position of his own body and the position of his weapons. In comparison, Obito learned to use more of the movement and weight to counter Kakashi's fluidity.

(I ended up making a bunch of gifs for this post, oops! Better keep going!)

Anyway, I bet I don't have to mention how much Kakashi spins his weapons. There are at least six different occasions during this particular fight with Obito. He loves to spin kunais to change his grip, to exchange hands, he even sent one flying high so he got both hands free to defend himself from Obito and then proceeded to kick it midair to with his heel, so it cut Obito in the cheek.

He's practical, so every spin has a meaning. Back at his fight with Zabuza, Kakashi even used the spin with his summoning scroll to intimidate... I think (I can't remember clearly).

You can rewatch almost any Kakashi fight in the anime and compare it to this post. You'll see that he is the spinning king for a reason.

[restlessmaknae]

i'll be the sun // taesan

The last person Taesan - the leader of the school band - expected to bond over music with was you, the head of the Maths club.

➳ Characters: high school senior!Taesan x high school senior!female reader/you

➳ Genre: high school au, rich kids au, slow burn, coming of age, fluff, some real-life bittersweet parts

➳ Words: 8.1k

➳ Warning: mentions of parental pressure, insecurities, reader had a fall-out with her ex best friend, crying

➳ A/N: This story had the most votes in my recent poll, so here it is! I had a lot of fun writing it because music, Taesan and slow burn stories are a good combo.

This is also a spin-off to my Leehan story, but you don't have to read that one to understand Taesan's part

➳ Dedicated to: @dat-town ❤️

VOTE HERE IF YOU'RE INTERESTED IN A TAESAN POV CHAPTER!

You couldn't say that you were looking forward to senior year to start. Moreso, you were looking forward to it to end.

After all, if it was over, you would be over your exams, and if the exams were over, you would be closer to your dream university. Until then, all the assignments seemed daunting, all the extracurricular activities seemed bothersome, and all the tests seemed life-changing. The last thing you expected was to fall in love along the way, but alas, life had a funny way to change your plans.

It all started on a Tuesday. At least, for you, it did.

Since you were the head of the Maths club, you left school later on Tuesdays because that's when you had your weekly club activity. After wrapping things up, you usually stayed behind to print out some more materials for next week and to organise the ones you collected. You also cleaned out the classroom you booked since the cleaning lady usually cleaned the basement during your time slot, not after.

So it was well past 7PM when you made your way back to the homeroom to pick up your PE bag because you didn't want to drag it with you all the way to the basement. You had some books left on your desk either way.

You stepped inside the classroom mindlessly, but you stopped dead in your tracks when you caught sight of someone already there. Taesan was leaning against his seat in the last row, playing on his guitar and bobbing his head to a song with his earphones in. He turned towards the windows with half of his body, so he didn't see you coming in. You noticed that he also closed his eyes while he was playing.

You weren't afraid of Taesan's reaction as per se, but he seemed like he was in his own bubble, and you didn't want to burst it. Alas, you had to get your bag and books, so you tiptoed into the classroom, hoping that the boy wouldn’t hear you moving.

You scooped up your books and threw the sports bag over your shoulder, and not until you turned around, did you realise that you knew the song Taesan was playing. You knew it all too well, and the momentary realisation made you halt just in time for Taesan to open his eyes and take in your presence. He removed his earphones and gazed at you - a bit tentative, but mostly curious.

For a moment, you had no idea how to react. The boy was as unbothered as you were, but there was still some awkwardness lingering in the air, not because it was embarrassing to be in the classroom with someone you didn’t usually talk with, but because you two were very different students on the verge of adulthood, and it was awkward to get caught up in a situation like this.

Not to mention that it felt a bit like déjavu, the flashback from the summer class trip pulling you back to reality.

“It was ‘I Don’t Love You’, right?” You found yourself asking, holding onto the straps of your sports bag to hold onto anything, except the memory from that night during the class trip.

Something flashed in Taesan’s eyes, and you knew immediately that you were right, though there was no reason to deny it. Even though Taesan was the leader of the school band, thus he knew quite a lot about the technical parts of making music, you had never heard him make a comment on anyone’s music taste. What he thought internally was a different question.

“Do you listen to MCR?” He quirked an eyebrow, and still, there was no malice in his voice. If anything, his interest was piqued.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Cool. Me too,” he bobbed his head casually, and you were about to say that you had a feeling that he did since he was playing the band’s song when the cleaning lady marched into the classroom, and made her presence very much known with her high-pitched exclamation: 

“What are you doing here at this hour, kids? Go home!”

You heard Taesan scoff behind you, but you didn’t object. You both packed up your stuff and headed out of the classroom, the now empty corridor filled with the cacophony of your footsteps. As far as you could remember, you had never walked side by side with Taesan like this. You had very different interests, he had his own friend group and well… you didn’t, so your interactions were limited to strictly school-related things like group projects, helping out the boy with a Maths task, and being sat beside each other on a class trip.

Yet, it seemed that you now had something to talk about, and Taesan took advantage of that.

“What’s your favourite MCR song?”

You didn’t even have to think twice about the answer.

“ ‘Teenagers’. You might find it funny, but whenever I step foot into the school, this song comes to mind,” you shared with him as you craned your head to look up at him, just in time to catch an amused smile playing along his lips. You had a feeling you didn’t need to tell him why, all those teenagers at school really did scare you sometimes. “What about you?”

“My favourite one is ‘I Don’t Love You’, but since you recognised it, you must know it already,” he answered a bit shyly, scratching the back of his neck as if he was embarrassed.

It was a new sight for you since Taesan was usually straightforward and confident, someone who seemed to be totally at ease with himself. You sometimes envied the way he carried himself; so coolly as if nothing could bother him, and as if he knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life. When you looked into the mirror, all you could see was anxiety and question marks floating around your head, and even though you thought you would gain some confidence from being a straight-A student, it did just the opposite. It fuelled your insecurities even more.

You directed a half-smile at the boy, not sure what to do with his reaction, and kept walking towards the entrance on the ground floor. Taesan inquired what kind of artists you listened to other than MCR, and he seemed so excited to talk about his favourite ones that he barely realised that he was waiting with you at the wrong bus stop. You knew that he usually went home with the bus departing from the stop opposite yours because having no friends anymore meant that you were observant like that.

“Oh sorry, I have to go,” he excused himself when you pointed out that his bus was coming. “See you tomorrow!” He bid his farewell while already running towards the vehicle, his guitar case rhythmically hitting his side and his school bag sliding down his right shoulder.

You watched him leave and take a seat on the bus while panting, his hair dishevelled, his tie loose around his neck. He was so different from you who knew the whole bus timetable by heart, never ever even ran after a bus, and always kept herself in check. However, as he caught you staring and gave you a little wave of his hand, you realised that deep down, you wished to be more like him.

And what was sad about it was that you knew that the only one holding you back from being more like him was actually you.

With the third week of the new term starting came the announcement of the random draw for the annual sports’ day. KOZ International High’s sports’ day was your school’s version of ISAC, and even though you were all coming from influential families and all the students had probably enough money to attend the Olympics games in the VIP section, no one complained about the event. In fact, it was all the school magazine and school radio could talk about for almost two months, and everyone tried to put effort into practising for their own games to not lose face.

Each year, all the classes participated in four different categories - mixed 4 x 100 m relay, archery, swimming and dance -, going up against one another within each year. The only category that allowed students to sign up for was dance as only groups could participate, and they needed to be formed in time to seem somewhat professional. Each year, this was the competition everyone was looking forward to the most since usually professional dancers signed up - like Baekseung, Minwoo and Haruto who always won the dance category in your year.

For all the other categories, there was a random draw during homeroom where your teacher announced who should be participating in which category. For freshman and sophomore year, you had been selected for swimming, last year for archery, and this year, you were asked to do the mixed relay with Millie, Pierre and Taesan. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if Pierre hadn’t insisted on making a groupchat for you all and having practice sessions each week to prepare for the sports day at the end of October.

“We can practise in our own free time. I don’t understand why we should all be gathering in one place each week,” you pointed out matter-of-factly when you had your first “team meeting” on the day of the draw.

“Because it’s about team spirit, you know? You might feel more motivated to run your part if you can see others cheering you on,” Pierre pointed out with unnecessarily grand hand gestures, and you needed to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes. However, you caught Taesan watching him with an unamused stare, and the sight made you feel less edgy.

“Besides, we need to practise giving each other the baton. I’ve heard that it can make or break a team’s performance,” Millie chirped in, looking up from her phone on which she was typing up until this moment.

This was exactly the reason you had enjoyed doing archery and swimming for the past 3 years. You had been alone with no team to weigh you down or ask you for unnecessary team meetings. You had practised in your own time at your own pace, problem solved. However, the first obstacle came already when you realised that there was not a single day during the week when you could all be free after classes.

“Can’t you just change the time for your band or club activity?” Pierre asked Taesan and you because you two had your extracurriculars on the same day, the only day when Millie and Pierre would be available.

“No.”

“No way,” you said at the exact same time as Taesan did, and you exchanged a glance, knowing all too well what those Tuesday after-school hours meant to both of you.

“Well, can’t you schedule your family dinner for the weekend, Millie?” Pierre tried again, and the deadly glare she got from the British girl was more than enough to shut him up. Even though none of you had a scheduled weekly family dinner, you knew how it was with rich families: studies and family came first, anything else second.

You brought your notebook closer to your face to examine your notes, and tried to calculate which day could work for everyone. Apparently, none did, so you came up with a different idea:

“Why don’t we practise in pairs? Since you and Millie are free on Tuesday afternoons, you can practise then. Taesan and I are free on Thursday afternoons, we can do it then.”

“But then it won’t be the saaaaame,” Millie pouted as if she had been told something awful, to which Taesan said dryly:

“That’s the only option.”

That managed to convince the two of them, and after a few more minutes of painfully cringe team spirit quotes, you could go on your own way. You immediately bolted off, having had enough of this nonsense, but Taesan fell in step with you, and asked if Thursday was really okay with you.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I just don’t want to sacrifice too much time for this, so maybe 30 minutes will do?”

“I was just about to suggest that,” Taesan nodded, a lopsided smile invading his lips, and it felt so easy, so light to talk to him that it actually surprised you. For a second too long, you watched that smile bloom on his lips, and for the first time in four years, you took in the boy’s pitch-black locks that sat messily on top of his head, his equally dark almond-shaped eyes, the defined features of his that were becoming more prominent by the day the closer he got to adulthood, and there was his lanky built, too…

Taesan caught you staring, and you immediately averted your eyes to the mess of the corridor around you instead of the boy’s face because for the first time, it felt scary to feel so light beside someone.

Pierre was very much not the leader type, but he could complain and spam the group chat with gifs of idols running (and failing sometimes). You didn't know what he was doing with all those hagwon classes he claimed to have which made your 4-member practices not work out because you all had hagwon after school, but he was chronically online. You noticed that from the class group chat either way, but it was different when there were only four of you this time and one of them was Taesan, the other one you - the two students who rather focused on their own duties, not this particular group chat.

It was all what students talked about though. Haruto chirped everyone's ears off about their (supposedly jaw-dropping) choreography, Leehan couldn't stop pouting that he and the class president didn't get selected for running, so that they could be in the same team - since they had officially started dating after the summer trip -, and the usual banter between classes started about who would win. This year, Anton - the national swimming champion - didn't get selected for swimming unlike last year, so even that would be an unpredictable competition for the boys.

Honestly, you weren't one for running, but it was something that you could enjoy at times because it helped you concentrate on something other than school. Other times, running around the field wasn't enough to take your mind off the deliberating amount of school work. Especially not when your ex best-friend, Selina, showed up on the field to practise the choreography she and two other girls had come up with for the dance competition.

It was like she was a completely new person - wearing a noticeable amount of make-up instead of her usual no make-up make-up, trying out dancing that she had never dared before and hanging out with girls she had claimed to not particularly like -, and it hurt to see that. Not because you felt envious because of the 180-turn of hers, but because she had said on that one night during the summer trip that she was sick of feeling like second place beside you.

Just because you usually performed better than she did, you had never ever looked at her like a competition, like a charity case. What's more, you enjoyed studying together with her because you were around the same level. Even though your mother cared about your 2nd place at school (after the class president who was always 1st), you had never cared about Selina's 3rd or 4th place.

Clearly, she felt differently.

"Is everything okay?" Taesan's raspy yet gentle voice brought you back to reality, and you immediately turned your head towards him.

"Yeah. Everything's fine," you answered, though you could feel how uncertain the words sounded. How feeble you sounded. "I just... I think it's enough for me for today," you announced, looking down at your wristwatch that indicated that you had started running only 10 minutes ago. You were nowhere near the end of your usual 30-minute session.

"That's fine. I don't really feel like doing it anymore today," the boy shrugged nonchalantly, and you wondered if it was true, or if he was just trying to make you feel better. Either way, you felt grateful for his cool attitude, and went to the changing room without as much as looking back at Selina and the two other girls.

After you got changed and grabbed your stuff, you still found yourself walking towards the windows that were overlooking the school field. Selina did seem a bit awkward, her limbs not catching up with the rhythm, but you couldn't tell whether she actually enjoyed it or not, and that was what gawked at you. The fact that it had been mere months, and you already couldn't tell how she was feeling. Were you always this bad at recognising her feelings? Was this why you had never noticed her feeling like she was someone less worthy than you? Was she right? Had you really made everyone feel insignificant around you?

Something broke in you at the thought, and you found yourself breathless for a moment, holding onto the windowsill for support. You felt tears pricking your eyes, but you were too preoccupied with the tightness of your chest to care. You tried so hard to hold it back, to hold your feelings back ever since the term started that you believed that you could do it without breaking down.

Turns out you were wrong.

"Hey, Y/N! What's wrong?"

Even though Taesan was only a few steps away, his voice felt like it was coming from many miles away. You didn’t look up at him, you didn’t dare to because you didn’t want him to see your tears. Have you ever achieved anything by crying? No. Just more humiliation and more disapproving words from your parents.

“Gosh, this is so embarrassing,” you mumbled, hoping that Taesan would just leave. On the other hand, Taesan didn’t budge for a few seconds, but then, he gently directed you to the closest room and closed the door behind you two.

Suddenly, you were surrounded by the smell of leather and there was this unmistakable smell of a storage room coming from all the different types of sports equipment you used for PE classes. You had rarely been here before since it was usually the class-president and vice-president who had the duty to collect the equipment for class, but it was quiet, and there were no curious eyes around, just Taesan’s concerned ones.

You were waiting - no, anticipating would be a better word - for the boy to speak up, to tell you to stop crying, but he stood there, looking up from under his long eyelashes, orbs shining worriedly. He then reached into the pocket of his bag and reached out a few crumpled yet clean tissues.

His gesture just made everything hurt tenfold.

“Why aren’t you telling me that it’s indeed embarrassing, and to stop crying?” You inquired, confused, eyeing the tissues in his hands. The boy looked taken aback by your question at first, eyes furrowed, creases deeping on his forehead, before his features smoothened out, softened to a gentle degree.

“I can’t tell you how you should feel. If that’s how you feel, I don’t have the right to go against it, but personally I don’t feel embarrassed by the sight of you crying,” he confessed so genuinely, so honestly that you teared up immediately. It was like something awakened inside of you, a part of you that you had hidden so deep that now that it surfaced, it felt unfamiliar and wrong.

You reached for the tissues to dry your eyes, but the tears just kept falling, and somewhere along the way, accompanied by your pained sobs, you found yourself telling Taesan the story behind your argument with Selina. He had been there at the peak of it anyway - just trying to tell you and your ex-best friend that you could come down for the bonfire, but Selina hadn’t heard him behind her and kept on going. She had told you that you had been a terrible friend for not feeling sorry for her when she had always been a worse student than you, and that you didn’t see that you made everyone feel insignificant beside you, that’s why you had only her.

It had started so innocently, not even an argument, just talking about your senior year, but it spiralled down way too quickly, you had just stood there, listening to the girl you had called your best friend for 3 years tell you everything as if you had forced her to bottle things up. Back then, you had been too shocked to react in any way other than numbing your feelings, but now it all burst out. It was ugly, it was messy, but it was also very human, and Taesan didn’t say a derogatory word, he hummed at times to indicate that he was listening, but let you speak freely.

Which was odd, and at first, you didn’t even know what to do with it. Usually, your parents stopped you when you started complaining, and said that you shouldn’t overreact things. However, he didn’t interrupt you even when you were searching for words or blowing out your nose between sobs. He also kept giving you tissues, though he ran out of them after a while, and tucked his hands into the back pocket of his jeans to cover up his awkwardness.

By that time, you were feeling better but also worse. You were lighter than minutes ago, but you were also very, very tired. Maybe holding everything back was actually more exhausting than letting everything out in time.

“Thank you.”

You let the words hang between you two, let Taesan ruminate over it, but he just nodded as if it was nothing, and said with all the confidence in the world:

“Anytime.”

You couldn’t tell if it was intentional or accidental, but after a while, you and Taesan started walking towards the bus stop together on Tuesdays after both of you wrapped up your extracurricular activities. You talked about school to a certain extent, but more often than not, you exchanged song recommendations, sharing not just your favourite ones, but explaining which part was your favourite and why. Taesan was obviously more eloquent when it came to music, but he was always interested to hear your opinion, and didn’t put you down even if the best you could mutter sometimes was that the song made you feel something, though you couldn’t tell what.

You also had your relay practices on Thursday afternoons, and after the first two relatively quiet sessions, you developed the habit of cheering for the other when you measured your time, to see how much you improved. Pierre and Millie did the same, sharing their records with you in the groupchat, so that you could decide in which order you would be running at the event. It was going well, and even though it was exhausting to do this on top of schoolwork, at least you were with Taesan, not Pierre. Sharing silence with Taesan didn’t feel awkward, but you were sure that it would have felt horrible with Pierre.

September passed some lingering sunshine onto October, but as the weather turned colder, you chose to run in the gym hall instead of outside on the sports field. That day, Anton and Jungwon were practising archery together while you were running, but you were the first two to leave with Taesan.

You had heard that it would rain that day, so you had packed an umbrella with you, and how smart of you! You noted that it was indeed pouring inside while walking from the changing room to the entrance of the school. Your steps echoed the way the raindrops were hitting the ground on the other side of the big windows, a constant, never-ending melody. Drip drop, drip drop, step by step, step by step…

You halted only when you pushed the front door open, and found Taesan leaning onto a pillar, his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. The tip of his Converse shoes was not fully covered by the roof he was standing under, thus, it got dotted with raindrops. He didn’t seem to notice. He did notice you though, and snapped his head back when he heard you take a few steps towards him.

“Are you waiting for someone?” You inquired casually. Not many of you commuted by public transport because most students lived in the student halls on campus. As it was an international high school, and the school attracted talent from all over the world, there were always enough rooms to accommodate every single student if they wished to make use of them. However, since you were from Seoul, and your parents liked to keep an eye on you during term time, you commuted, but it wasn’t bad, only a 25-minute bus ride.

On the other hand, you had always seen Taesan take the bus, so you wondered if it was different this time. Or maybe he was just trying to wait out the rain.

“Ah no,” he shook his head. “I just stopped to check my messages,” he held up the phone in his hand, and you nodded. He scratched the back of his neck, looking up at you with those big, affectionate eyes, and some icy part of your heart melted, drops of water accumulating around it like the puddles on the ground.

“Do you want to walk together? I have an umbrella,” you offered as you pointed at the big black umbrella in your left hand. Taesan looked at it, then back at you, and his lips curled upwards ever so slightly. From him though, that curve was equal to a grin.

So you opened your umbrella, holding it so that it would cover the boy who was taller than you, and it meant that you instinctively started leaning towards him. It didn’t go unnoticed by him, not when your shoulder bumped into his as you came to a halt at a crossroads. You exchanged a gaze, something that you broke almost immediately because you were sure that your face was flushed. You usually didn’t have a problem with closeness like this, but with him, it was different. It was somewhat more intimate.

“Your shoulder is getting wet,” he pointed out when he averted his eyes to your left shoulder, and caught sight of the raindrops sitting on your autumnal coat.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“Let me…” He mumbled as he reached for the handle, and you let him hold the umbrella over you two instead. He was taller either way, you decided, but then you saw that it was his shoulder that got rained on because he was holding it over you way more than he did it over himself.

“Gosh, you aren’t any better,” you huffed, not letting it slide. You grabbed the handle of the umbrella, but Taesan didn’t let go, so you just stood there, staring at each other in beautiful agony, your hands touching. Your heart fluttering, heat reaching your cheeks, you yanked your hand away, but stepped closer to the boy instead. “See, we can fit under it if we stand close enough to each other.”

“Is it close enough now?” He quirked an eyebrow, and there was a twitch in the corner of his mouth. You couldn’t decide whether there was a teasing edge to his words or a flirtatious one, and you weren’t sure which one would be better.

You gulped, looking away, and noticed the traffic lights turning green. Hence, you prompted the boy to start walking, so you could fall in step with him. He shook his head, and you swore there was an amused smile playing along his lips, but you were too focused on your own thumping heart to care.

You asked Taesan for a new song recommendation if he had any, and you shared one of your new favourite songs, too. It was ‘Beaches’ by beabadoobee, and for some reason, this song reminded you of the times you spent with the boy: light-hearted, reassuring, comforting. Like the first signs of spring - awakening, blooming, bringing warmth - after a long winter.

Of course, you didn’t tell him that, just that you liked the lyrics and the instrumentals used, but you were curious about his opinion. That’s what you did after all: sharing song recs, the other jotting it down in their notes app, listening to it and sharing their opinion on it either the next time you met in person or via Kakaotalk. This way, you always had something to look forward to in your days, and it was like a little safe haven from all the studying.

For the first time in forever, you didn’t even go through the timetable in your head to calculate when your bus would be coming, you only noticed it when it was already there.

“See you tomorrow,” Taesan said as he handed the umbrella back to you, and you found yourself smiling at his words. How reassuring it was to know that you would be meeting the next day as well.

“See you tomorrow,” you echoed with a lighter heart, watching while he was running to the other side of the road to hide from the rain under the bus stop’s shelter.

It was odd how your perception of Taesan could change in a matter of weeks. You felt a certain kind of fondness towards him now that you couldn't really put your hand on because you had never felt this way before, but you wanted only good things for him. You really wished he could become a musician one day because he truly deserved it. His band 'Insomnia' already uploaded covers onto Youtube, and had a fair share of views, and you liked to indulge yourself in their videos more often than you would admit. Even though all of them were very talented - Jungwon on the drums, Gyuvin on the synthesiser, Yechan and Taesan on the guitar -, your attention always gravitated towards Taesan and his voice. His voice was similar to his personality: multiple layered with many unexpected charms and softness hidden behind that edgy tone of his.

Though Taesan once inquired if you heard their songs and you admitted that you did, you thought that it wasn't that big of a deal. Most girls - and even guys - at school listened to them because they were fairly popular. Though Leehan was the most popular boy in your year, followed by Yechan with his jokester personality and ever-growing Youtube channel, the other members of the band also had their fair share of popularity. Then, there was Anton who was a national swimming champion, so naturally, everybody knew him, but he didn't really let his presence be known outside of the swimming pool, so it was a quiet kind of fame in his case.

Not that popularity really mattered in your eyes, but you found it somewhat heart fluttering that Taesan would be interested in your opinion regarding their band, and your conversations didn't stop even after the sports day when you came in second with your team. Only Pierre made a ruckus about it though, you and Taesan merely exchanged high-fives, and agreed that you were glad that it was over.

However, you didn't think that the boy would one day ask you if you wanted to hear a snippet of a song he was working on.

“Sure. If you don't mind,” you told him after a few seconds of silence while you were contemplating whether he was serious about asking for your opinion.

“It's not finished yet, I'm still trying to see what direction it should go in, but I'm curious what you think about it,” he explained as he brought his earphones out of his pocket, plugged it into his phone, tapped something on the screen and reached it out to you.

It was just you and him in the classroom as usual on Tuesdays, Taesan sitting in the seat behind yours. You turned around to face him, reluctantly grabbing his earphones and putting them into your ears. There was just something so intimate about this gesture of his: sharing his own song idea with you and sharing his own earphones with you that you needed to pacify your crazily beating heart to actually hear the song.

The snippet that you heard seemed to be the beginning of a love song, and the first thing that came to your mind was how cosy it was, and how easy it was to listen to it. It was something different from Insomnia’s usually punk-rock heavy songs, but the instrumentals were still there, just softer. Like how he had been acting around you despite his seemingly colder facade. The lyrics were about keeping ‘you’ in their memories, and promising to protect ‘you’ which sent a chill down your spine because for a moment, it felt like he was really singing to you.

Taesan kept his eyes on his phone's screen to see where the recording was at, so he immediately looked up when the song finished. He quirked an eyebrow in question while you took out the earphones.

“So…” He cleared his throat before continuing, albeit rather reluctantly. “How did you like it?”

“I liked it, I really did. It was softer than the songs you usually play, but I liked this side of you,” you remarked with a gentle smile, and something caught in his eyes which made you falter. If he was more shocked or just intrigued, you couldn't tell, but you... you were horrified. “I mean, this side of your music... uhmm... your music style.”

You were sure that you were blushing like crazy because how could that have just slipped out? Gosh, this was so embarrassing…

“But I would have made the beginning part a bit longer, so that it could stand out a bit more,” you added, hoping to save yourself from further embarrassment.

You averted your eyes to the desk instead of his face, so you couldn't tell how he reacted, but he jotted down your opinion nevertheless.

“Thanks. I was actually thinking of changing up that part, so thanks for reinforcing that idea.”

You dared to look up at him at this time, and there was this soft smile playing along his lips that made your stomach do somersaults. It was so rare to see him smile like that, and when you were the reason for it, all of your tenseness regarding your own actions melted away.

“Actually, I wanted to show you this song because…”

“Is it you two again?” Came the cleaning lady's indignant voice from the classroom door, and you both snapped your heads back to look at her. Hands on her hips, eyebrows furrowed, the elderly woman didn't seem too happy to find you two in the classroom after 7 o’ clock yet again.

You had to suffer through a few more reprimanding sentences of hers while you were packing up your stuff to leave. Once outside of the school, you asked Taesan what he was trying to say before.

“Ah nevermind,” he shrugged, looking away, and you didn't push him to tell you.

So you continued your walk to the bus stop like always, as if nothing happened, as if he hadn't just showed you a song that could make you question your own feelings towards him, and ultimately, his own feelings towards you.

On Tuesdays, it was usually you who finished sooner, and Taesan was already in the classroom by the time you made your way back there. Not this time though.

You managed to bump into the whole band when you walked out of the room you booked for the Maths club. Unbeknownst to you, you halted in front of the four boys, your eyes darting between Taesan and the rest of the guys.

“Oh hey, Y/N!” Yechan cheered excitedly, grinning widely. You reciprocated his greeting and his smile, holding the notebook and the folder you used to your chest.

“Done with the Maths club for today?” Gyuvin inquired, and you immediately confirmed that you did, but then you realised that he didn’t necessarily have to know what you were doing there. After all, if it hadn’t been for Taesan, you wouldn’t have known that Insomnia was practising on Tuesdays at this time around.

“How do you know that?”

“Oh well,” the boy boasted a childish grin, gazing at Taesan from time to time to signal his answer to you, but the head of the school band appeared nonchalant. “Somebody did tell us about it.”

“Not even just once, but multiple times,” Jungwon chimed in, sharing the boys’ teasing, and you had to sniffle a giggle at Taesan’s reaction. The boy tried so hard to seem totally unaffected by the obvious callout, but he was avoiding your eyes, chewing on his lower lip, his hands flying to the back of his neck to scratch it. Something that he did when he was ever so scarcely embarrassed.

“I see,” you hummed knowingly, amused by the guys’ little display of playfulness before Yechan smacked his head.

“Oh guys, I think we need somewhere to be! You know, the thing I told you about before practice…” He announced out of the blue, and even though a flash of surprise crossed Gyuvin’s face, he recovered quickly, and both him and Jungwon acted like they knew exactly what he was talking about. Taesan, on the other hand, seemed awfully perplexed with his furrowed eyebrows and forehead creases.

“Now let’s go, let’s not waste any time. See you at school tomorrow, Taesan! And Y/N, of course,” Yechan hollered before exiting the scene, followed by the grinning Gyuvin and a smiling Jungwon who looked like he came straight out of a toothpaste commercial.

You watched them leave with a light-hearted smile, then looked at the boy in front of you who seemed awfully nervous. It was vastly different to who he really was - the usually cool and composed Han Taesan, the leader of Insomnia, someone who had never lost his patience before. Now, he seemed like a lost kitten who couldn’t find their way around an alley, and the thought made your lips curve upwards.

“Heading to the bus stop?” You asked matter-of-factly, hoping to ease the slight awkwardness in the air.

Taesan’s shoulders visibly dropped when he caught your gaze, and he was about to open his mouth, but closed it in the end. You quirked an eyebrow, suddenly confused by his gesture, but then he spoke up:

“Actually, do you remember that song of mine I showed you last time? Do you want to hear the final version? I finished it yesterday,” he suggested casually, but there was a hint of doubt lacing his words. On the other hand, you couldn’t have been more sure of an answer, so you nodded, and followed him into the practise room they usually occupied.

Even though the room already boasted many musical instruments, the boy got his guitar out of his case with as much elegance as only a well-practised artist could. After setting it up, so that he could play comfortably, he started playing the song from last time. He did work on making the beginning of the song longer, and there were parts that he changed a bit, but overall, it had the same cosy vibe. The lyrics were also extended, him singing that he wanted to be a hero, an angel or whatever you wanted to call someone you could lean on to ‘you’, and when the words left his mouth, a pleasant shiver ran down your spine.

You were totally caught up in your feelings - as if the melody wrapped you up, and you were just spinning inside the hurricane of his, going round and round with each passing second. There was nothing else around you, just him and the song. It felt a bit like you were in your own world, something that just the two of you had, that’s why the silence that followed the last accords felt so striking.

Taesan put his guitar to the side after he finished, and you found yourself clapping instinctively. You didn’t think too much into the gesture, but the boy was fighting a smile, and eventually failed. A beautiful, grateful smile blossomed in its wake.

“Before you ask, I liked it a lot. It felt light and comforting,” you admitted before asking about the inspiration behind the song because you were genuinely curious about it. He had mentioned before that a lot of his songs were inspired by books, movies and stories he heard from others, so you wondered if it was the same this time as well.

His eyes widened a bit hearing your question, and for a moment, you thought that you asked something intimate. Then, he sucked in a deep breath before confessing:

“It was inspired by you.”

“By me?” You repeated, exasperated.

“Yeah. I started working on it after I saw you crying that day,” he started, and even though his voice didn’t waver, you could feel that he wasn’t completely confident in his answer. “I don’t think I was the best at reassuring you back then, so I wrote this song because this is what I wanted to say then. I’m just not really good with words, you see,” he let out a little, somewhat ashamed giggle by the end, averting his eyes from your face to the strand of cotton he was currently picking on his pants.

You were speechless for a few seconds, digesting his words - or rather his confession. You were convinced that he had been the best kind of reassurance he could have been at the time, and you appreciated that he had listened to you, that he had told you that you could feel however you wanted, he wasn’t embarrassed by the sight of you crying, and then there had been his crumpled tissues, too.

The reason you didn’t mind spending time with him, rather, you felt comforted by his presence was because of that night: because he had seen you at such a low point, he had heard your sob story regarding Selina, and he hadn’t turned his back on you. Not out of pity because Taesan would be the last person who would do something like that out of pity, but because he truly wanted to get to know you better.

“I… I think you did enough back then. I was the one who felt ashamed because I thought I said too much, and I didn’t want to open up to someone in case…” In case they would leave you like Selina did. In case they felt insignificant, and called you a horrible person. In case they broke your heart just enough to make you never want to lend it to another person, ever again.

Taesan hummed, playing with his fingers resting in his lap before finding your eyes, and he gave you that soft smile that you were so grateful to see on him.

“You don’t have to worry about that. As I’ve said in the song, you can lean on me,” he reassured you gently, and everything ceased to exist in that moment, even time itself. It felt like your heart - that had not been thumping before - now beat for the very first time, awakening from its deep, deep sleep.

And you welcomed this warm, fuzzy feeling inside your chest with open arms.

To be honest, you were scared of this newfound feeling at first. It was as if everything was so easy, so natural. Nothing ever felt forced with Taesan. Sometimes you had lunch together at the canteen, sometimes you didn’t. Sometimes you stopped by each other’s desk in the morning to talk, sometimes you didn’t. Sometimes he asked you to help him with a Maths problem, sometimes you talked about anything but school.

On top of that, you were scared of this feeling because of the timing as well. Senior year seemed like the worst possible time to fall in love. However, after a while, you couldn’t deny it. You tried, you really did try to push these feelings aside, and Taesan was gentle enough to not push you for an answer. Even though he hadn’t confessed as per se, you highly doubted that a song like his would be inspired by someone who was just a friend.

As time went by, Christmas break rolled around, and you didn’t see him for some time. Then, he didn’t show up at school the following week because he had come down with a cold or so you were told by Leehan. So the next time you saw him, you had every reason to be looking forward to seeing him, and it was just your luck that it was a Tuesday as well, so you were more than sure that you would leave the school together.

You were right, but as you were leaving the building, you stopped the boy, and reached a knitted wool scarf out to him, something that matched his dark winter coat. Taesan eyed it for a few seconds before you broke it down to him:

“It’s for you. I wouldn’t have to give you one if you just got yourself a scarf, especially after being sick last week,” you told him, and you realised that you were almost reprimanding him. How could you not though? He was still not wearing a scarf, and it was freezing cold now.

“It was just a cold,” he justified, but there was an amused smile in the corner of his lips. Mind you, this was not a usual behaviour from you, but last week, you had enough time to ponder about his whereabouts before asking Leehan. Because apparently, it was embarrassing to tell you through Kakaotalk that he was sick, so you had to ask his best friend.

“Still, I was worried when you didn’t show up on Monday.”

“Oh, so you were worried about me?” He raised an eyebrow, playfully leaning closer to you while grabbing the scarf. For a few seconds, you two just stared at each other, stared into each other’s eyes, and it was so easy to get lost in those deep, dark galaxies. Then, you willed yourself to tear your gaze away, and pushed the scarf into his hands once and for all, a bit more forcefully than you intended.

“This is not funny, Taesan. I just don’t want you to get sick again, okay? I couldn’t help but worry about you last week, and I’ve missed spending time with you, so if you don’t want to skip out on that, I suggest you take that scarf and dress warmly.”

“You missed spending time with me?” Taesan repeated, the playfulness slowly leaving his voice, his tone taking on a more serious and curious layer. He eyed you for a good second before asking: “Why?”

“Because I like you, why else?” You threw your hands into the air, exasperated, because you had enough of his teasing for the day, but when you realised what you had just said, your hands flew to your mouth.

You didn’t expect to tell him that so straightforwardly, let alone do this just in front of the school with the scarf you had gotten him still in his hand, but it just burst out, and there was no stopping it. Not that Taesan seemed to mind as his lips slowly curled upwards in a somewhat coy manner, and his reaction immediately made you feel relieved.

“That’s good… because I like you, too,” he confessed, and put the scarf around your neck to pull you close to him. You smiled into his embrace as his arms slowly enveloped you, and although it was winter, it felt like being embraced by the sun.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think! 😊

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If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for BOYNEXTDOOR or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here. 🥰

Also, some fun little details and researches because they heavily inspired the story:

Title taken from Taesan's self-composed song called 'sink into the memory' which is also the song that was inspired by reader in the story (when Taesan finishes the song in the story, the lyrics' interpretation is totally made up by me)

Here is Taesan singing MCR's 'I Don't Love You'

Here is Taesan talking about his top 3 MCR songs

Header taken from this WHY Concept Film

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

[thebearer]

had this thought of being in your first trimester while pregnant with teddy, and you’re so sick you can barely hold down saltine cracker. and one day at family he’s trying to get you to eat and you’re like “no i literally can’t” and he snaps at you in front of everyone

"C'mon, just try a little bite." Carmen coaxes, what was supposed to be a soothing tone was falling short, that snip in his tone was fueled with irritation.

"Carmen," You moaned lightly, your stomach lurching at the thought.

The smell of the kitchen was enough to make you nauseous, walking through only for a moment before you felt ill. Normally, your mouth salivated at the smells, tummy rumbling at the promise of the family meal.

That changed quickly after you found out you were pregnant. Only a few weeks, but your symptoms were coming in stronger each day. Hormonal acne that was angry and hurt to the touch decorating your jaw and chin, fatigue that washed over you in waves so strong it left your head spinning, and morning sickness. Well, morning was generous seeing as it followed you throughout the day. Your sense of smell was more sensitive, as was your stomach, and that combo was far from ideal. You'd smelled cilantro when you walked in and had to run to the bathroom.

Carmen understood, he did, but your recent hunger strike of sorts because of your stomach was making him beyond nervous. He'd looked up all the important, nutrient rich foods for you, insistent that you eat them.

And you would, if you could. If it didn't come shooting back up twenty minutes later.

"You gotta eat." Carmen frowned at you. "You can't starve yourself. Starve the baby."

"Carm, I'm not starving myself or the baby." You snapped, low and under your breath. "I'm gonna throw up if I eat it, ok? My stomach is fucked."

"Probably because you haven't eaten anything." Carmen glared at you, nodding towards the loaded bagel sandwich in front of you. "C'mon."

"Carmen, the thought of eating that right now is making me already gag." You muttered, holding a hand to your mouth, trying to swallow the spit already pooling in. "I'm not eating that."

"Baby, you have to-"

"-Carm, I will later, but I can't right now. I just threw up." You whined. There came the surge of emotions, raging and wild, the annoyance masked with frustration and tears.

"Eat. I'm not playin' with you anymore." Carmen's tone was harsh, cutting and firm, loud enough to bring the attention of the table towards the two of you.

Your lip wobbled, stomach twisting now with the humiliation of tears as well. You shoved your seat out, stomping towards the bathroom with burning tears. The table was silent, looking at Carmen.

Tina glared at him. "The fuck's the matter with you, Jeff?" She huffed, already standing to check on you.

"I-I'm just... She's not eating. And-And it's bad for the baby-"

"Carmen, really?" Sugar huffed, rolling her eyes. "You're so stupid."

"I gotta agree with Sug on this one." Richie quipped, nodding before shoveling the pasta in his mouth. "You are a fuckin' moron."

"Fuck off, alright? I'm a moron because I don't want my baby to starve?" Carmen huffed. The table erupted in comments, mostly derogatory towards Carmen's last comment and in defense of you.

"She's not starving your baby, you idiot." Sugar huffed. "She's sick. Ok? That is a different kind of sickness. One you will never understand." Sugar sneered. "And right now, there's probably only one craving that the baby won't reject, so maybe instead of being a dumbass-"

"-total jagoff-"

"-complete asshole-"

"-Go check on her." Sugar placed her hands on her hips, the sisterly glare that only an older sister could possess.

Carmen hated that she was right, hated that they all were. But he hated that you were upset and in the bathroom more.

"Can I come in?" Carmen knocked lightly, hearing Tina's soothing voice over your retching and sniffles. His heart plummeted.

Tina opened the door with a glare, one that had Carmen stepping back. "You not gonna come in here and make Mama more upset, you got me, Jeff?" Tina sneered, a painted brow raised menacingly at him.

Carmen just nodded dumbly. "You better get in there and make it right, you hear me?" Tina pushed past him.

You were sitting on the tile, one hand wiping your tear stained face, the other cleaning your mouth with a piece of toilet paper. You glared at Carmen through tear stained eyes, sniffling softly, making his heart crack.

"Baby," Carmen knelt down, a hand running over your hair soothingly. "I'm sorry, alright? I-I didn't mean to yell like that."

You just glared at him, wiping under your eyes. "I just... I don't know, I'm scared. I'm scared that something will happen to the baby, and-and it will be my fault."

"How would it be your fault?" You mumbled through a pout. "It's my body."

"Yeah, but, I-I don't know. Like if I miss a step or don't do everything right it will... It'll be bad and it's gonna be my fault." Carmen muttered, looking down at the tile.

"That's not how it's gonna be, Carm." You sigh, your heart melting at his admission. You knew he was scared, you were too. Just trying to figure it out together. "You can't plan everything and expect it to go like that. Not with a baby."

"I know." Carmen ran a hand down his face, looking back at you sweetly. "I'm just... I-I'm sorry, ok? I didn't mean to pressure you like that and be an asshole... or a jagoff... or a dumbass..."

You giggled lightly, lips curling. "You're not a dumbass all the time." You said playfully. "I promise, I will eat, Carm. I just can't do the vegetables and cheese today." You said, gagging lightly at the thought.

"Yeah? That's alright. What can you do, hm? What're you in the mood for?" Carmen hummed, running a hand down your hair.

You thought for a moment, hand running over your tummy lightly. You'd barely started to show, looking like bloat, but it drove Carmen wild regardless.

"Remember that hot dog we had after our first karaoke date?" You muttered dreamily, leaning your head to the side.

It felt like a lifetime ago. You and Carmen had just gotten 'serious'. Everything was exciting and new, and you'd taken him to a karaoke bar, serenading him a little tipsy and giggly. You'd been starving on your walk home. Carmen stopped and got you a one am hot dog at a questionable stand, but you'd loved it, sharing it with him, buried into his side while the two of you walked home. It was a shitty hotdog, but Carmen would've ate a million that night to keep you happy like that.

"Yeah?" Carmen tried not to grimace, nose scrunching lightly enough to have you laughing, his shoulders relaxing at the sound.

"I just want a shitty hotdog. Nothing gourmet. Just with some mustard. That's all I've been craving." You muttered.

"Alright. That's what baby wants?" Carmen asked, helping you off the floor sweetly, grabbing your bag for your mouth wash.

You nodded, gargling with it, Carmen holding your hair back while you spit in the sink. "I'll get it for you, ok? I think there's one down the block-"

"-I'll come with you." You added, glaring at him lightly, so he wouldn't protest. "I just need to be outside. Maybe settle my stomach."

"Alright." Carmen nodded, a hand running down your hip. "You got a coat?" You nodded, leaning into his side, walking back to the office with him.

Carmen walked you down to the stand, "overpriced and a tourist trap" he'd grumble, but bought you two hot dogs- just in case. In case you wanted more later. You'd managed to keep it down, sitting with him on the steps of The Bear, pressed into his side, giggly and sharing kisses in between bites.

[uraharasfavoriteexperiment]

~ | short leash

[ pairing ] roommate!byakuya kuchiki x streamer!male reader [ genres ] smut. js filthy smut. [ cw ] kissing (more like making out), really heavy cursing, finger fucking, rough sex, light choking, breeding, praising, body worship, pet names (love, prince, doll, doll face, baby, kitten), short!reader [ author's notes ] cloud ten is a thing now. make cloud ten a thing. oh also there's a mention that you're grimmjow's brother + a grimmichi mention. [ words ] 2665 (how did this take so long.) please reblog fanfictions when you read one you like! likes do not help writers' algorithms!

"m/n-"

you hear a familiar voice from across your flat. you grin, practically bouncing in your gaming chair out of sheer excitement.

"hey guys, i gotta go~" you say, giving your live chat the cute puppy pout you were known for.

"whaaat nooo!!" came a stream of incredibly pouty protests from some of your regulars, "whyyy"

you smile, pouting again. "my boyfriend is home!" you say, hoping they'll come to understand.

"oooh ok then go! go go go, go be with ur big handsome hunk~"

your brightly colored, coral-blue eyebrows disappear into your equal-parts brightly colored, coral-blue hair.

"elaborate." you demand, your voice cool, low and almost indistinguishable from your boyfriend's.

"oh gulp ok um- well he snuck on ur cam a couple streams back and i- 😳 that man is. is very hot. um. yeah."

you grin proudly, blushing lightly and nodding furiously.

"yeah, he is hot. he's really hot, i love him." you admit happily, looking over at your office door impatiently. your grin widens when byakuya walks in, and you squeal happily, looking back at your camera.

"alright guys, i'm gonna head out for the night, the man of the house is home and i gotta help him decompress from work." you say, faking a sad pout and dragging the pad of your pointer finger down your cheek to simulate a tear of sadness.

"i might get on tomorrow, but maybe not~ byyyye!" you smile and wave, flashing your happiest grin to your chat. you click the "End Stream" button and turn off your camera, spinning around in your chair and running into byakuya's arms. he smiles, wrapping his arms around you and burying his nose in your hair. he inhales a deep breath of your comforting scent, letting his eyes close and squeezing you possessively.

"you've washed your hair." he observes quietly. you look up at him, confused.

"how'd you know?!" you ask, tilting your head to the side like a confused puppy. his soft, tired smile becomes slightly more mysterious. you squint at him suspiciously.

"byakuyaaaa..." you say, "tell me."

"nope." he responds. you growl. byakuya goes completely, utterly, and defiantly silent in response.

you growl again, much more furiously this time, and without warning you give him the furious-pout-puppy-eyes combo...

and his demeanor crumbles.

"whenever you wash your hair it becomes shinier and more fluffy, and it starts to shine blue." he admits, his face turning a light, rosy pink. you smile shyly, your heart swelling with intense amounts of affection that you couldn't dream of explaining in words.

"you're so damn cute, 'kuya..." you say, pouting again, "makes me wanna ruin you."

byakuya's eyes darken and his aura changes from tired to something more threatening. his hands slide down your back and squeeze your waist, pulling you further up against him. he leans in, and his face is suddenly less than half an inch from yours. your heart skips a beat.

"you ruined me a long time ago, m/n..." he says in a near-whisper, "and besides... it's not gonna be you who takes control tonight."

you grin, leaning in and closing the distance, letting byakuya pick you up by your thighs. he wraps your legs around his waist and carries you effortlessly toward the plush, satin couch you had in your office, dropping you carefully into the cushions and quickly yanking off his shirt, not even bothering to move his hair back out of his face.

he needed you too much, and byakuya was an incredibly impatient man.

he pretty much falls on top of you, immediately burying his face in your neck and latching onto your throat hungrily. you moan at the sudden (and quite aggressive) contact, and your hands stray of their own accord up into his hair. your fingers tangle into his long, dark locks, and you pull his hair a little without noticing, eliciting a ravenous growl from the back of byakuya's throat. he bites harder on your flesh, leaving a bright purple mark on your throat.

byakuya pulls away without any warning, making you whine in furious protest. he grins, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you tightly, kissing you roughly. he keeps the kiss heated but continues to tease you, waiting. then, when you moan needily into his mouth, he takes the chance he's been waiting for, slipping his tongue into your mouth. you moan again, but this time the sound is a little more highly pitched.

"'kuya, c'monn..." you whine, "quit teasin' me, quit bein' a meanie~"

byakuya grins, shoving his tongue down your throat again. he growls, the immense pent up horn evident in his voice as he slips down your body like a snake, leaving little kisses and loving nibbles on your neck and collar bones. he continues this way for a few seconds, then his hands slide up underneath your shirt to grip your waist.

"take it off, kitten." he demands quietly, "now." you nod quickly, gently pushing him off of you and sitting up. you bend over and pull your shirt off as quick as you can, tossing it onto the floor and impatiently pulling byakuya back down with you, smashing your lips onto his. he shoves his tongue into your mouth and sliding his rams around your waist again, growling possessively.

"you're on a short leash tonight, you know." he says, breaking the kiss and looking you right in the eyes, ignoring the whiny protest you give. you look up at him, confusion clear in your face.

"what do you mean, 'kuya?" you ask, "what'd i do?"

"you made me go to that fucking meeting, m/n." he says as though this should have been obvious, "kurosaki and your brother are beyond insufferable, they never stop fighting. they're worse than you and renji."

you groan, rolling your eyes and squirming aggressively underneath byakuya's weight, pouting furiously at him.

"how's it my fault that blueberry and strawberry can't keep their hands to themselves?!"

"because i said so."

you pout in an unnamed emotion miles past fury.

"not fair."

"i'll make it up to you later." byakuya says quietly, latching onto your throat again with no warning. but this time he includes something else in his torturous ministrations- something a little more kinky.

one hand slips sneakily up your body, and he pokes your bottom lip with two fingers, looking at you expectantly. you grin, giving him what he demands. your tongue comes out and you take his two fingers into your mouth happily, moaning, whining and whimpering around them while he bites and sucks on your neck and throat, leaving the prettiest, purplest hickeys he can make all over your supple, irresistible skin.

byakuya lets you suck on his fingers for a while- about five minutes, before willing (more like forcing) himself away from your throat. he gently pulls his now-soaked fingers out of your mouth, grinning when he sees the shiny string of saliva that connects your swollen, pink lips to his fingers. he takes his weight off you, sits back and looks at you, and you don't even need to be told. you nod, quickly sitting up and kicking off your pants and boxers, pulling him down into another kiss.

while byakuya kisses you, he pulls you close to him by your waist- and now is when you notice that he, like you, is completely naked. he bends over you and touches his forehead to yours as he carefully presses his two fingers into your entrance, whispering praises and sweet nothings into your ear as he slowly guides you into the moment, not wanting to hurt you or make you uncomfortable.

"you're doing so well, doll," he whispers lovingly, kissing the tip of your nose. you whine, shifting a little as he starts to move his fingers inside you.

"keep doing well and i'll fuck you dumb, kitten." he promises coolly, grinning when he sees the lewd, hentai-equivalent facial expression you make. your eyes roll up into your head and your face turns red, and a needy, wanton moan escapes your throat.

"oh god, please- 'kuya, please," you whine, "i-i'll be a good boy-"

byakuya interrupts you, kissing you roughly.

"you'll be a good boy anyway, brat," he hisses, "you've misbehaved today, and you need to repent." he grins wickedly, grabbing your chin with the hand he wasn't finger-fucking you with and forcing you to look at him. you shyly make eye contact with him. an invountary whine escapes your lips and you bite your bottom lip, shifting needily underneath him.

"good kitten." he says lowly, his voice dripping with lust.

byakuya then leans down and latches onto your lips, shoving his tongue into your mouth again and his hand tangles into the hair on the back of your neck. he decides to play with you a little, tugging on your hair, adding another digit into your body without warning and continuing to fuck you relentlessly with his fingers.

after about five minutes of torturing you, he pulls his fingers out of you and repositions himself between your legs, grabbing your thighs and using them as leverage to pull you closer to him. he gets onto his knees in order to support his weight better, then bends over you and kisses you again...

but this time it's different- softer, more gentle and comforting as he slowly, carefully bullies himself into your hole, eating up every moan and whimper that leaves your lips as he fills you up with his ridiculously sized cock.

"f-fuck..." you whine, "shit, 'kuya, you're huge- mpfh-"

byakuya interrupts you impatiently, smashing his lips onto yours. he shoves his tongue down your throat yet again, choosing to wrap one hand around your throat at the same time and absolutely relishing in the choked gasp that rips from your lightly constricted throat in response.

"quiet, doll face." he commands quietly, and the cold, authoritative tone in his voice makes you obey without question, biting your bottom lip again and going silent. your eyes flutter closed and your face turns lily-pink, and a shaky breath escapes you as he starts to move. he lets go of your throat and grabs your thighs, squeezing and kneading them possessively as he steadily speeds up. within not even two minutes he's effectively railing you, holding you by the hips with your thighs wrapped around his waist as he punishes you for what you've done.

"you're doin' so well, kitten," byakuya coos into your mouth, "takng your punishment so fuckin' well... i'll have to remember to reward you dearly after you've taken your retribution."

your face turns bright red at the unwarranted praise, and your heart starts to race, having finally caught up with your head and realized what was going on inside and around your body.

within another five minutes your moans and whines start to become more desperate and high-pitched, and byakuya's name quickly becomes a common appearance in the short spaces between the lewd sounds you were making. your thighs squeeze his waist tightly and your arms are wrapped around his shoulders, your nails scratching bright red lines into his back and shoulder blades.

"aagh, fuck- fuck, shit- ah, fuck, byakuya-" you start to ask him to fuck you harder, but then the tip of his cock hits your prostate, making every thought leave your brain and causing your eyes to roll up into your skull.

"oooh fuck, baby, right there-" you growl like a stray dog, hugging byakuya as close to you as you can as your mind slips over the edge and you ascend to cloud ten. byakuya grins, burying his face in your neck and bites down- hard- on the spot right behind your earlobe, making you all but scream out of sheer, blissful pleasure.

"you're so pretty, baby," he whispers into your ear, making you whine needily, "your thighs are so thick and strong... and your waist is so perfectly shaped..."

your hole clenches around byakuya's cock and you moan loudly in response, making him let loose an animalistic growl that sends lustful shivers raging down your spine. his grip on your hips, which you hadn't noticed before, tightens aggressively, and he's sure it'll leave bruises on your skin later on. the idea of that makes byakuya's skin crawl and sends nasty thoughts flaming through his sex-fogged mind, but he keeps the filthy thoughts to himself and continues on the path he's currently on.

"'m g'na breed you, doll face," he hisses into your ear- and the very idea of it made a violent shiver run down your spine. byakuya feels your body shake, feels your insides squeeze around his cock in response, and a ridiculously uncharacteristically wicked grin spreads across his face- a grin so stupid that you could physically feel it against your neck.

byakuya chuckles, biting down on your neck again and sucking on your already-abused skin until yet another violent purple hickey comes to fruition. his hands slide down your sides and he squeezes your ass hard, so hard- plenty more than enough to make you moan again, and then, without any warning whatsoever, byakuya's pace quickens.

he presses one fist into your gut, forcing you to feel the way he's fucking you, making sure you know exactly who's fucking you so good.

so good...

so...

damn-

good.

your chest starts to heave, your lungs wheezing for air, and your eyes roll up into the back of your head as your orgasm hits you like some sort of heavy force. your pretty sounds go silent, as if someone snuck a hand behind your throat and flipped the off switch...

it infuriates byakuya.

he wants to hear your voice. he wants to hear the pretty sounds coming out of your mouth; he wants to hear exactly how blissful he's making you feel. he growls in irritation, pressing one arm against your throat, applying just enough pressure to make it hard for you to breathe, but not enough to cause you any harm. leans down over you and uses his knees and his free hand to balance his weight, fucking into you faster and faster, harder and harder and harder, fucking you relentlessly through your already-ravaging orgasm.

his own walls crumbled quickly after that moment, and soon he has both arms wrapped around you, hugging you tightly enough that you're still having trouble breathing. you're hugging him back just as hard, but with all four limbs- you're back to making your pretty little sounds, but it's mostly whimpers because you're losing stamina and byakuya is slowly suffocating you. byakuya continues to abuse your prostate, growling into your ear a disorganized mixture of possessive, worshipping and filthy comments that makes your head spin.

"h-hurry..." you whimper weakly, nuzzling his ear with your nose to try to egg him closer to his own orgasm...

and it works. byakuya's walls fall to the ground in pieces. he growls like an animal, slowing down drastically, instead choosing to fuck deeper into you as his orgasm finally finds him. he presses his hand into your gut again, applying as much pressure as he can muster up, whispering filthy, disgustingly sweet praises into your ear (mostly concerning your body) as he fills you to the brim.

byakuya releases the pressure on your gut and slowly pulls out, letting his weight fall on top of you, his chest heaving against yours as you both slowly regains conscious control of your minds.

"you did so well, kitten..." he purrs into your ear, his voice softer than usual. "so fucking good."

you smile weakly, a light pink blush dusting your cheeks. you hug him with every drop of strength you've got left, and he hugs you back, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

"byakuya..." you say quietly.

"yeah, prince?" he responds quietly.

"i love you..." you whisper. byakuya smiles, reaching up with one hand and caressing your cheek with his thumb, dusting your neck, shoulders, collar and chest with light, cloudy kisses.

"i love you too, doll."

© uraharasfavoriteexperiment.

[purinfelix]

HII!! can i request a mistletoe?

So i was thinking of the scene in notting hill where william(random guy) and anna(famous movie star) meet for the first time at the bookshop and later william spills orange juice on her, he take anna to his flat to change and before leaving anna kisses him (idk if i should be more elaborate with the plot help)

maybe you can write something smiliar or with this plotline for franco?

<3 love you

out of reach ᯓ★ - franco colapinto

w/c: 1.2k a/n: OHHH NOTTING HILL IS LITERALLY ONE OF MY FAV FILMS EVER I LOVE U FOR THIS - this req literally gave me an excuse to go rewatch this scene so tysm (also this started out as a blurb but .... here we are)

this is part of my 1k event - check out the rules here!!

It was your day off - or at least, it was supposed to be.

You had it all planned out, since being one of the hottest up-and-coming actresses meant time to yourself was extremely scarce. Starting the morning a little later by letting yourself sleep in, then going for a walk downtown through the morning markets and vintage stores, even dropping into a small travel-book store that caught your eye. Not so much because of your passion for travel books but rather for the boyishly charming store clerk who you locked eyes with through the front window.

But that was where you encountered your first issue, when the only other customer in the store recognised you and proceeded to ask you for a signature, while you were trying to pay for a book. Of course, you obliged, but to your surprise, the clerk continued to ring up your ridiculously overpriced book without even seeming to recognise you, or at least, he pretended not to - instead going on a tangent about how, really, your mistake was buying such a poorly written book, though you chose not to heed his advice just yet.

With just the little bump in the road cleared, you were free to return to your perfect day, a fact which lasted all of ten minutes before being interrupted. Only this time it was by a total idiot running into you with a coffee cup full of orange juice - and who even orders orange juice from a cafe? - spilling it all over your white shirt.

You were prepared to lose it until you peeked over your dark sunglasses, a weak attempt at a disguise, and caught the eye of none other than the boy from the bookstore. Immediately he began rattling off apologies, and whilst a small part of you found it a little cute, they did little to fix your sour mood. That's when he mentioned that he, conveniently, lived just a couple steps away from the street corner the two of you were standing on and that you could come over and clean yourself up.

So that's how you ended up here, in the entryway of some stranger's house - a charming stranger, but a stranger nonetheless - soaked in orange juice while he scrambled ahead of you to clean up the mess he lived in.

"Right," he huffed, noisily shoving empty pizza boxes into the nearest bin, "come on in, the bathrooms on the top floor."

You do as he says, offering an awkward smile to show appreciation for him allowing you to come over but also how weirded out you are by this whole interaction. Once upstairs, you hastily change into the only spare clothes you have - being a sparkly top and skirt combo you had been planning on wearing to tomorrow's press tour, but would have to do for now.

As you tentatively climb down the creaking stairs, you're met with the sight of the stranger clearing his dining table - which is covered in half-empty cups and unwashed plates. When he hears you though, he spins around with a bewildered expression, lips slightly parted as his eyes follow you.

For a minute you just stand there, watching his expression as the side of his mouth quirks up into a smile and as strange as it seems, you feel almost shy under his gaze.

"Oh, sorry," he finally says, breaking the silence, "do you want something to drink? Coffee?"

"No, thanks."

"Tea?"

"I'm good."

"Mate?"

"Ma- what?"

"It's from Argentina, where I'm from, it's really good, I drink about two litres of it every morning," he begins excitedly rambling once more, picking up a cup and flask from his counter and bringing it to you. "I know it doesn't look like much but it really flushes you out, like if you eat something bad in the morning just a couple sips of this and you're-" he gestures with his hands to demonstrate the laxative effect of the drink and you can't help but let out an amused laugh as you shake your head.

"Right, well, how about something to eat?" He moves swiftly, setting down the cup to open his fridge and from where you're standing you can just see inside it - though there isn't much apart from a couple old apples and a half-eaten mandarin.

"An apple?" he offers.

"No," you smile.

"Do you always say no to everything?"

You think for a little before replying slowly, "No." He nods, understandingly.

"Well, I better get going," you say. "Thanks for your," you pause, searching for the right word to describe this experience, "help."

leans his head against the corner of his fridge, green eyes on yours. "And before you go, can I just say," he begins and you brace yourself, finally, for him to make a comment about how he recognises you.

"Once you read that book, I don't think you'll be coming back to my store anytime soon, it's awful, really."

"I'll keep that in mind," you say, smiling in relief as you begin to move towards the door, and once he realises this, he moves quickly to open it for you.

"It was nice meeting you," he breathes out as the two of you stand in the doorway, "strange but nice." You nod in agreeance, and in amusement at how awkward he seems - but also how charmed you are by it. Standing there, with seemingly the only man in the world who doesn't see you immediately for the films you've been in or the characters you've played, you feel an intense force drawing you towards it.

And before you realise what you're doing or have the sanity to stop yourself, you're up on your tiptoes, with one arm wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. He doesn't seem any less shocked by your sudden actions than you do, but soon, you feel a strong arm wrap around your waist.

Pulling away, you let out a quick breath, mostly in disbelief at what you've just done, and when you look at the dazed expression on his face you can assume he feels the same.

"I'm really sorry about that strange but nice comment from earlier."

"That's okay, I thought the," you pause to mimic his actions from before when describing the mate, "bit was a real low point."

He laughs before saying abruptly, "Franco."

"Sorry?"

"My name, it's Franco."

"Well, Franco, it was nice meeting you," you turn to grab the doorknob with one hand but pause to turn to him again, "Oh, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this."

"Right, of course, no one," he nods eagerly, "I mean, I'll tell myself but even then I might not believe it." You can't help but let out an amused laugh as you slip out his door, and back into the sun of the late morning - and as you do, you're unable to stop yourself from smiling.

[fyresnow]

it's all done! (well I still need to wash it...) SO hyped omg it's GORGEOUS!!! The colors are so vibrant and the rainbow gradient is so cool. It ended up being just over 500 yards of lace/light fingering yarn (~20 WPI). After washing this really 🌸bloomed🌸 and it's so light and springy and buttery aaah (the above pics are before washing)

See the plying ball here and the single filling up the bobbin here and the plied yarn on the bobbin here; The wool is an electric rainbow in rambouillet from SpinningSiren on etsy

I wasn't sure what to make with it at first, I figured a lot of my spinning projects would end up as colorwork sweaters since that's what I would wear most. But I really want to see ALL of the gradient in the yarn. I want to see all the color changes and fading and everything else. So I think I'm doing a shawl with it. So please leave a comment if you have any pattern recs! (I present mostly masculine, but I'm open to some lightly feminine accessories)

Currently leaning towards the My Precious shawl from By the Lily Pond. But to bead or not to bead, that is the question. (I've never done a beaded knitting project before)

[thatwritterbeach]

So About that Alley .3

Jason Todd x fmc

DC masterlist ALL OTHER PARTS FOUND HERE

Unedited***Also I swear Tumblr is messing up my spelling on purpose cuz everytime I re-read something I know I fixed it's wrong again

Alex: short, curvy, red hair, green eyes, redheads go through pain meds way faster than normal people to the point I personally don't even take them, it's a joke, they last 30 min at best

Summary: Alex finds out her bf is red hood, after she spills some not so great secrets to the masked man while stitching him up.

Warnings: Vaginismus* angst, sexual assault, self-harm, depression, drug use by Alex, violence, cursing, NSFW, smut, thigh riding, vaginal fingering, guided masturbation?, p in v (not overly described), pain during s*x, hiding said pain, hickeys?, self-hate, insecurities, eating disorder, weight loss

A/N: I do not own dc booho

"Hey, Jay," she asked in a totally calm totally cool manner the next morning, completely numb thanks to the nice little combo she'd whipped up. Not floating or un-present but not in pain, even where the arm of the couch was digging into her side as Jason squished into her, laying fully on top of her.

"Yes, my beloved?"

"Don't make me take away your books you little dork. I was just wondering if your family knows about you...you know, not being dead?"

"Uh, yeah, why?"

"Just if I happened to run into them I wouldn't wanna be like 'oh I'm dating Jason' and they'd be all 'wtf is wrong with this chick, he's dead' you know."

"I guess. Alex," he said grabbing her hand and pulling it to his mouth," I'm gonna introduce you, I'm not ashamed of you or whatever the hell else your mind is trying to say. My family is...overwhelming for most and I didn't want to scare you off."

"I get it dude, and since I just recently placed you as Robin you would have had to hire a family, or spill you deepest secrets to me. Lucky for you, I am the most understanding woman on the planet."

"I'd argue, but you're right. I'll text Alfred, the leader of the gang, and see when we can come for dinner. Be warned though, it could be tonight, they've been trying to get me to come home for a while now."

It was in fact that night. Alex scurried around for a clean pair of jeans, then after a glance in the mirror at her too large reflection she ripped them off and tossed them to the floor. A dress? No, that one has a tear. This skirt? No, it's too short. Jean short, they're clean but who the fuck wear jeans shorts to a mansion. Business slacks, no that says trying too hard. Ah ha, a superman t-shirt, and black leggings, then top it off with one of Jason's zip up hoodies.

"Is that what you're wearing," he asked with a laugh as he came into the room. In fact the laugh became a full blown fit and he doubled over nearly to the ground clutching his stomach and wheezing. With each second she got more and more self-conscious. Of course she couldn't wear what was basically pajamas to a fancy place, what was wrong with her. With a sigh she took off her boots and slid out of the leggings and switched them for her jeans, that she hated but whatever. Searching in vain for something that wasn't a graphic tee, or a business blouse she was half way through her closet when Jason recovered enough to notice what she was doing.

"No, put it back on, it's great, doll, I wasn't laughing at you, I was laughing with you."

"I wasn't laughing," she said without emotion.

"Hey, come 'er." Much to her wiggling protest he pulled her tight against him and placed several loud kisses along her scalp.

"Everyone else will be in pj's I solemnly swear, in fact I was just about to change into my matching flannel set, someone amazing bought it for me, but I can't remember who," he said tapping his chin with mock thought.

"Really?"

"Cross my heart," he said, though his fingers were crossed behind his back.

"Ok," she conceded trying to get free. He held on for another minute before spinning her out away from himself and winking when she fell back onto the bed. Matching pj's in hand he headed to the bathroom, not for privacy but to send an urgant group chat explicity stating lounge clothes were to be worn.

See masterlist for more

[artyandink]

amoralism | seven

Summary: You and Dean Winchester are the top agents from Major Crimes. You’re also assigned as partners on the same case- a crime syndicate is running loose and buying out most of downtown New York. He hates you cause you hate him. You hate him cause you think he got in his position with his daddy’s influence. But this case is personal to one of you more than the other- and you may be getting too personal for comfort.

TW: Agent Dean Winchester (yes, he’s a warning in itself), mention of murder, murder, Knights of Hell but they’re just murderous humans, fantasising, description of injuries, use of firearms, a mole in the FBI, office shenanigans, Azazel, Asmodeus, crime syndicates, Crowley MacLeod, Rowena MacLeod, fluff, bullet wound problems, angst, pressure, bandage changes, fluff, making out

Song Inspo: We Go Down Together by Dove Cameron and Khalid

SERIES MASTERLIST

masochism

Dean Winchester during a bandage change was a cocky son of a bitch.

“This is romantic, ain’t it?” He flashed his pearly whites, his bare torso in all its rippling biceps, glowing skin and distracting chest glory would be a delicious sight had you not looked lower and seen the hole in his side that dampened the view of his glorious abs. “Patchin’ me up after I heroically saved the British consulate.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Shush.” You had half a mind to slap his perfectly sculpted shoulder, but instead you continued the cleaning of the bullet wound before applying the gauze and beginning to wrap the bandage. “Even when you’ve been shot, you’re still an ass.”

“Yeah, I know I’ve got a great ass.” Dean chuckled, smirking and raising an eyebrow, before his lips curled into a grin that made you want to kiss it off until he was senseless. As soon as you’d clipped the bandage, he gave your ass a small slap. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome.” You smiled, shaking your head in amusement as you put away the supplies.

“I am very welcome.” He chuckled, checking you over as you turned back around. “Finally got a hot nurse after all this time- mm.” Dean puckered up, his eyes closed on impact and eyebrows raised before his lips became pliant and accepting of your every movement. His hand lifted to cradle your jaw, other delicately grasping your waist and pulling you to stand between his legs. “Mmh.” He hummed again, tilting his head and sliding that hand on your waist to grab the crook of your knee and hitch your thigh up.

You noticed that this wasn’t like the demanding, hot kiss you were given a few days ago before Dean got your clothes off and ravished you. It had the same kind of intensity that had one hand of yours gripping his bicep and the other on the side of his neck, the same dizzying feeling. His lips were soft, pliable, and now that you two were almost fully clothed, you could focus on the scent of his cologne and the earthy aroma that made your head spin.

The taste of coffee and the telltale notes of beer on his tongue flooded your own mouth just as his hand pushed into your hair, winding the soft strands around his fingers. And, like an exchange, he found the flavour of gazpacho and your raspberry chapstick. Odd combo, but he didn’t hate it.

Pulling back slightly, he stole a few more kisses, one, two, three, and then pulled back slowly, his nose nuzzling yours for a moment before taking a good look at yours.

It would have been a romantic moment had he not ruined it with his cocky grin.

“Well, hello, nurse.” Dean winked, then stole one more soft kiss from you, his eyes fluttering shut and so did yours. Once he disconnected, neither of you let go just get. Your hands stayed right where they were, his holding you to him. One in your hair, the other on the small of your back. “Does this mean…”

“I wanna try us out. I really do.” You murmured, then scoffed lightly. “Cause God, with all the failures we’re having, I just need one win. One.”

He hummed, reaching to hold your chin gently. Letting his lips meet yours again with a gentleness that you never knew he had in him. Less claiming and more coaxing into the intoxicating thing called his arms, and then he pulled away and in true cliché, romance movie/book fashion, tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and let his fingers curl around your chin.

“I’ll try my damned hardest to make this a win for you, sweet girl.” Dean murmured, green eyes boring into yours with the faintest smile on his pouty lips. “A big win.”

You took the leap of faith into his strong arms, allowing him to hold you, his chin on your head since he was sitting on the windowsill and was therefore taller. His hands gripping you like you were his in a less possessive, more intimate way. His. It was an easy pill to swallow. “It’s already a big win. A fuckin’ big one.”

He hummed, nodding slightly. “That’s my girl.”

“This isn’t any odd places we’re walking into.” You briefed Dean, strolling through the hallways of a high up company. “This is a company owned by a very wealthy mother and son. Mother looks younger than she is, Son looks older than he is. Don’t question it. Rowena and Crowley MacLeod. They’re our undercover contact that our syndicate thinks they bought out. They’re actually on the FBI’s payroll.”

“But still high up.” Dean noted, nodding and taking a look at you. You looked hot as hell when you were all business. Reminding him to also keep on business.

You pointed at him with a nod and a click of your tongue. “Exactly. They’re rich, Scottish, and very full of themselves.”

“The trifecta.” He quipped in amusement. “How’d we get so lucky, eh, baby?”

“Refrain from pet names in the workplace.”

“Ok.” Dean chuckled, low and rich and- stop turning on. Stop. “Darlin’. Sweetheart. Sweet thing. Pretty girl-”

“Oh, shush.” You grinned, but just as you were about to step into the office of Crowley MacLeod, Dean gently took your arm, bending so his breath hit your ear.

“Wouldn’t say no to a post-meetin’ quickie, you know.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, and you cleared your throat. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure you won’t think.” An open mouthed, slow kiss on your pulse sending it racing at the speed of Mach 1. Oh, boy, you were already regretting your decision. It would be on the coroner’s report: death by Dean Winchester’s lips and voice.

“I- you-” Yet another clearing of your throat. “Business. Interview. Late.” It was all you could get out - rather pathetically - and you knocked sharply on the door, which was promptly opened by a short lady with bouncy red hair and smoky eyeshadow that looked strangely amazing.

Dean’s eyes widened slightly, with a subtle pump of his eyebrows. Damn, you weren’t kidding when you said she looked younger than she was. Might be an understatement, actually.

“Oh, Fergus, your nine o’clock’s here.” She called to someone further into the room, before running her eyes over your office suit with a red-lipped smirk. “Loving the suit, lass. You’ll have to give me the details of your tailor. Always fancied me a power suit.”

Your hands instantly went to the lapels of your suit, straightening them out unconsciously, as you stuttered out a ‘thank you’.

Then her eyes turned on Dean and- did she just… playfully growl? “You’re a right sight for sore eyes. And especially for a lady who has to look at her son all day, it’s a nightmare.”

“Mother, stop flirting with the agents.” A voice that sounded generally done and generally suave became louder, and then came an equally short man (but taller than his mother) strolled into your line of sight. Power suit, beard.

Rowena and Crowley MacLeod.

“Agent singular, Fergus.” Rowena corrected pointedly, poking Dean’s shoulder. “This one’s a catch.”

“Mother.”

“Alright, I’ll go back to my motherly duties.” She rolled her eyes playfully, then smiled at Dean again through her eyelashes. “If you’re not already taken by this lass,” Rowena nodded to you, “do call me.” Then she sashayed off, leaving you both with a very strong impression.

Dean didn’t know whether to feel flattered or possessive of you. Women just kept flirting with him. Older women, more notably. Was that commendable?

“Alright, now that she’s not here to ruin business, let’s do business.” Crowley sighed, beckoning you both into his large office. Glass on two walls, very minimalistic. A few chairs, one long table with chairs - presumably for business meetings - and one smaller - again, glass - desk with crystalline glasses and a bottle of the good stuff. “You’re here about Hell.”

“That’s right.” You nodded, folding your arms. “What do you have to tell us?”

“Depends on what you want me to tell you.” He poured himself a whiskey, looking to the both of you. “Fancy some?”

Dean’s hand raised. You slapped it down.

“Uh, right.” Dean cleared his throat, glancing to you. C’mon, baby, you’re meant to be on my side here. “We’re lookin’ for names. Anyone who could be tied to… Hell.” He gave a brief, tight-lipped smile.

“If you’re looking for names, I’d probably draw up a mile long list.” Crowley chuckled amid a sip of his Jack Daniel’s. “Hell used to be a New York unit. Now they’ve bought out places in almost every US state, Washington DC included. Nobody’s safe.” Then he paused. “I can tell you their structure.”

“That’d be helpful.” You added, gesturing for him to continue, watching and listening very carefully.

Crowley took a moment to swirl his whiskey. “Well, there are first merely the followers. Bottom feeders, not so much high rankers. They listen and they follow, and that seems to be their only purpose. In Hell, they’re classified as ‘demons’. Then it’s the elite strike squad, all codenamed. They’re called Knights of Hell. Highly trained individuals handpicked from the masses of ass kissers to do necessary assassinations. From what I understand, you’ve already got one in the Supermax.”

“Abaddon.” Dean confirmed, his brow furrowed slightly.

“That one. She’s bloody batshit.” Long sip of whiskey. “Cain’s dead, so I won’t bother to mention him. There’s Abraxas, who recently killed one of your colleague’s wife and kid.”

Nick. Oh, God. But… why would a Knight of Hell order a hit on a woman and baby?

Crowley clicked his tongue. “Corvinus, Jodohr, Urxehl, Andras, Furcas and Morax. Those are the other Knights of Hell. They could destabilise entire governments overnight. They just haven’t destabilised the US government because they’re too busy getting the entirety of America under their wraps.”

“Anything else?” You asked, a million of these details noting in your head as he spoke. It was almost militaristic. They had a ranking system.

“Then you have the Princes of Hell. Most of them are in high-security prisons across the globe. But the ones who weren’t stupid are still active. Asmodeus, Azazel and Dagon. Asmodeus leads the Knights of Hell and the land charges. Dagon handles personal matters, like overseas contact and property protection. By property, I mean humans under Hell’s control. And Azazel, well, he handles the trafficking. Drug rings, recruitment, suicide bombings, crowd control… if it’s important, he handles it.”

You and Dean exchanged looks. For Azazel. The words that came out of every SB’s mouth. So he was behind those. For what, publicity?

“Then there’s our boss.” Crowley grimaced, rolling his eyes. “They call him Lucifer. And apparently, he’s a dick. He makes the business deals, the threats, and he oversees everything. If there’s one person you wanna hit to take down the whole operation, it’s him. But you’re gonna have to work up the ladder.” He finished his whiskey. “There’s a lady who’s running drug trafficking through beauty pageants. She gets the ladies through to the last round and uses that clearance to make the drop. She’s a Latina, and her name’s Eleanor neé Romero.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach then leapt back up as if you were about to hurl it out. “Mom.” You whispered, your blood running cold. Upon hearing the name, Dean’s hand instantly found the small of your back. I’ve got you, sweetheart.

“You know her?” Crowley’s eyebrows raised a little, and Dean shook his head with a nervous chuckle.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't calm down a little and lean into his touch.

Tax fraud and evasion. Drug trafficking. Possession of illegal substances. Fraud in general. All things that you found your mom guilty of when you and your team did a thorough background check. It landed you in the hospital, the gown on, red patches on your neck and over your eye.

As expected, your mom rushed in, past Rick and Cassie. You felt sick to your stomach, and by the looks of it, your dad and sister were too, as they’d been told of the situation by Sam since you couldn’t do it. Dean was sat on a chair beside you, and he briefly nodded to Rick, giving a polite smile to Cassie. The latter of which surprised that you managed to snag a man that goddamn fine.

You were surprised too.

"My baby." Your mom whispered, sitting beside you in your hospital bed, smoothing back your hair. "God, look at you."

You rolled your eyes, prepared for the worst. After all, nothing more or less could be expected of your traditional mother other than personal comments to your appearance.

"Spit it out." You groaned. "I look like hell." You felt like you'd combust. You'd do it. Fragile china be damned.

“You’re hurt.” Her fingers gently traced your jaw, and she turned to Dean with teary eyes that had your stomach turn. “How did this happen? Who are you?” Though her glasses over eyes scanned Dean. Dios mío, that’s one handsome man.

“Uh, Agent Dean Winchester, ma’am.” Dean put out his hand for her to shake. “Major Crimes, I work with your daughter.”

“Oh-” The moment Eleanor’s hand linked with Dean’s, you got your gun from under the blanket, pointed it at her temple while Dean swiftly cuffed one of her wrists.

“You’re under arrest.” You said shakily, but kept determined anyway, and the look on your mom’s face said that she knew why she was busted. “For tax evasion, fraud, identity theft, possession of illegal substances, drug trafficking and exploitation.”

“Sweetie!” It was the first time your mom ever called you that. It stung, when you knew the only reason she did was to get you to break. Too bad, cause Dean already had her hands bound behind her back and had handed her over to Sam and Benny, who were waiting in the hallway.

You grabbed a wipe from the bedside table, cleaning off the makeup around your eye and on your neck, the red coming off onto it. This had been an undercover operation to get your mom. Of course, if she’d been told that her daughter was working on a case to take down the organisation she’d been working for, the wool would be ready to pull over your eyes.

Not today.

The door slammed shut behind you as you pushed Dean through the threshold of your bedroom, your lips locked fiercely with his. You almost fell forward with the force had it not been for his hands keeping you upright, your hands taking on a furious pace in shoving his suit jacket off, then tearing at his tie with fumbling hands. Dean let out a low moan, his brow furrowed in concentration as he began removing your clothes too, humming in between kisses.

"Fuck, sweetheart." He pulled back, getting his belt off and dropping it with a clunk on the wooden floor. Dean grinned, taking sight of your creamy skin once he'd undone your shirt, getting it fully off so he could kneading your tits over your bra as you got the rest of your own clothes off, sans underwear. "Don't know what's gotten into you, but I like it."

Dean was caught off guard by you shoving him onto the bed, landing with a small bounce and taken even more by surprise when you began kissing at his neck, your movements frustrated and even sloppy, your head pounding and breath almost coming in growls.

The sound would've had Dean raising an eyebrow had it not been for your lips trailing a dizzying line all over his neck, which had his own falling open in a groan that came from his very soul. His hands flying to grip your hips.

You paused for a moment, panting heavily into the crook of his neck while your hand flew to tug down the fly of his pants, being careful not to afflict his gunshot wound any damage, but it wouldn't come down.

"Damn thing-" You muttered under your breath, tugging at a force that had Dean's hand moving to grip your wrist before you broke it.

"Woah, easy, sweet thing." He cautioned, but then a drop of water fell on his chest, right on the anti possession tattoo thingy he and the boys at the office got after a case with a homicidal maniac who claimed to be a victim of demonic possession.

And another drop. Fuck.

"Shit," Dean's hand instantly cupped your cheek, lifting your head to face him and seeing tears running down your flushed cheeks, and even then you tried to dip back down to kiss his chest. "No, sweetheart, stop. Stop for a second, OK?"

You sobbed quietly, next thing finding yourself nestled into Dean's arms, your head tucked in the crook of his neck with his chin comfortably on your head. "Why can't anything go right?" Your hands were tightly holding onto him, and Dean's hand buried into your hair protectively, a small frown gracing his brow. "I can't even undo a stupid fly right, fuck all."

"I know, but you can't get all of that out like that, sweet girl." Dean pressed a kiss to your hair, massaging your scalp. "Talk to me, OK? I've got you."

“She’s my mom, Dean.” You croaked into his skin, and his arms tightened around you instinctively, a heavy sigh leaving him. “I know we didn’t have the best of relationships, but she-she was my mom.”

“You were so strong, darlin’.” He muttered, keeping his breathing even while your tears soaked his skin. “So strong. And I’m gonna do whatever I can to make it right, y’hear? I’m gonna do everythin’ in my power to make sure you get a win. We’re gonna catch the sons of bitches, put ‘em in the Supermax and everything’s gonna feel right again.”

You nodded into the crook of his neck, and he just gave you the time to cry, stroking your hair. “We don’t have to do anythin’ tonight.” Dean murmured with another kiss to your hair. “We’re gonna get comfy, and we’re just gonna relax. Can’t guarantee it’ll take your mind off today, but I just want you to feel better.”

The words surprised you. Dean didn’t care about the sex, or whether you just jumped him out of pure frustration- he cared about you.

And that meant everything.

NEXT UP:

“So, you’re the famous Agent Dean Winchester.” He smirked, stepping closer to Dean, who was looking up at him from his knees with the best ‘fuck you’ smile he could manage with his chin being held. “I knew your daddy. Hell of a man, he was, until I tarnished his name and got him fired from his precious job.”

Dean coughed slightly, then chuckled. “You must be the dick Azazel. Who nobody’s heard about.”

“They’ve all heard about me, boy.” Azazel chuckled, taking a look at the body on the ground. “Everyone in the United States. Cause my name’s on the suicide bombings, ain’t they? My name’s written all over the attack on the President.”

“I bet your name’s somethin’ really stupid.” Dean snickered, giving his best cheeky side eye. “Like Gerald. Or Emmanuel. I’m guessing you were that one kid who had no game in high school.”

TAGLIST:

@goldngguk @sweetpeachbombshell @slut-for-stiles @staple-your-mouth @daddyscrimsstuff

@dob-4-life @marcis-mixtapez @nonoreas0n @gabrielasilva1510

@lucyholmes13 @pandadork-blog1 @nicolstancu @malusinhaaaa @dybalabandolero

@a-cup-of-nightshade @tomatoessoup @sh0rtcakee @fall-06 @mckaykay-fandoms

@b3th13

@demonxangelomegaverse @deanwinchestersgirl87 @capailluiscedove @i723l-interrupted2323 @niyomiii

@all-the-fan-fic @eviekinevie8 @sunflowerlover57

@1-800-dean-winchester

@darichvep @idk-usernme @supernaturalmarvel3000 @ega2025 @deanbrainrotwritings

@targaryenluvs @bucky-hydra-hoe-barnes @leigh70 @aintnowayboi @ripoffsteveharrington

@gleefulleve @sacrosankta

@riteofpassage77 @eevvvaa @thedevilortheangel @thorsballhair @barbienotdoll

@4e1h3r @wolfieblue03 @kianaleani @vicky199625 @sassyslut2003

@impyrz

@didisull @miwp @lastcallatrockysbar @rizlowwritessortof

@zepskies @angelbabyyy99

@autisticgothic

@yourgoldengirls @deansobsessedgirl @mrsjenniferwinchester

@aylacavebear @lailawinchesterr @brightlilith @arcanaa @hobby27

@lyarr24 @ximm19 @deanbrainrotwritings

@a-girl-who-loves-disney @jeneelsworld @deans-spinster-witch @deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist @kayleighwinchester

@k-slla @muhahaha303 @suckitands33

@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

@katherineeekai @freefallthoughts @angzls

To be added to any character’s taglist of mine , find my form on my master list.

©️ 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

[semisgroupie]

SURVEILLANCE OF PLEASURE

perv roommate!kunigami rensuke x fem. reader (ft. perv roommate!raichi jingo)

wc: 2.4k

warnings: noncon filming (hidden camera placed by raichi), male masturbation, female masturbation, oral sex (m!receiving), hair pulling, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, slight dumbification, the good ol’ praise and degradation combo, exhibitionism, fishhooking (is that the right term? maybe), overstimulation, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), spit

synopsis: it all started with a hidden camera “prank”

a/n: this is for my “perverts make the world go ‘round” 4k event and was requested by an anon!

If there was one thing Kunigami knew for sure about Raichi, it was that Raichi was a sneaky, disgusting pervert.

It all started when you three decided you would move in together. The three of you were extremely close, met on orientation day in college and have stuck with each other ever since. So after graduation when you all ended up working within the same neighborhood, it was just agreed upon that you would all move in together.

Raichi thought it would be a fun prank to plant a hidden camera in your room. Kunigami instantly knew the ulterior motives behind the so-called “prank”. It was known to everyone except you that the two had a little crush on you that often led to some not-so-innocent fantasies. Like what you looked like naked or what you would look like with a mouthful of cock or how pretty you’d sound while your pretty pussy was getting split open.

But Kunigami decided to play along, only if he was able to get access to the footage too, which Raichi did.

The hidden camera was in the eye of a stuffed bear they gifted you. You didn’t even think twice about the little gift and you didn’t even question why you couldn’t move it from the little bookshelf in your room. From that day on they saw every single thing you did in, what you believed was, the privacy of your own room.

They watched as you did little modeling shows in your room whenever you went on a shopping spree, they watched as you lotioned up your body after a hot shower, they watched as you walked around naked in your room just for the hell of it. But the best sight of all was when you took your little vibrating dildo from your nightstand and fucked yourself with it. Watching as you writhed and arched your back off your bed so prettily as you worked yourself to an orgasm.

As the months passed Kunigami’s feeling of guilt passed and changed into carnal desire. He often found himself replaying the clips of you fucking yourself with your toy while he fisted his cock. He matched your pace and would cum with you but then would take over his body. He needed more, he needed your touch, he needed the real thing.

Fucking his fist wasn’t enough anymore. And he needed to make a plan where he could finally have you.

Raichi was going away on a trip to visit his family for the weekend which meant you would be alone with Kunigami and that also meant he could finally have you.

You two spent the entire day together watching whatever show you wanted to binge, he bought takeout for you both and he couldn’t stop thinking about all the things he wanted to do to you.

Now it was the perfect time to execute his plan.

“Hey, remember that party sophomore year where we were all playing fuck, marry, kill?” You paused your show and turned to face him. How could you forget?

It was a wild night and your first ever college party. It was also the night where you drunkenly made out with two people during a game of spin the bottle, the two people you now live with. During the game Raichi put three names together; Isagi, Kuon and Kunigami. You said you’d marry Isagi, kill Kuon and fuck Kunigami. That night was also the night you developed a little crush on Kunigami and no matter how much you tried to fight it off, the crush only grew and now that you live with him any attraction to him was impossible to ignore.

“Of course I remember that night, I’ve never seen someone get so offended by a fake answer before.” Kunigami chuckled and moved closer to you, closing the small distance between you two.

“Do you remember the answer you gave when the choices were me, Isagi and Kuon?” You felt your face heat up at the new proximity between you two and nodded at his question. “And do you feel the same way about your answer about me? What I mean to say is, do you want me to fuck you?” He knew he was being extremely forward about this but he didn’t have the patience to take things slow. He had been pent up for so long and he had to let it out.

Your heart pounded in your chest and you met his fiery gaze and you nodded slowly. “Y-yes.” It had been too long since you hooked up with someone so maybe it was the pent up sexual frustration or maybe it was your crush on him that was speaking for you but once the confirmation left your lips, he pounced on you like a predator that has finally gotten to its prey. He smashed his lips into yours in a passion filled kiss, he poured his hunger onto your lips and you gripped his arms tightly. You were thankful that he adorned his usual attire, going shirtless and only wearing loose basketball shorts and you wore a thin tank top and even thinner shorts.

His hands moved along your body, gripping and groping whatever he could get his hands on. He pinched and gripped all your sensitive parts that made you whine and moan his name against his lips then an idea struck.

He knew that Raichi would spy on you as you got ready for bed since it was also his routine. So why not give him a little show?

He broke the kiss and stood up, grabbing your hand. “Cmon, let’s go to your room.” You followed him eagerly, anticipating what he’ll plan to do next to you. Once you two were inside his hands went back on you, almost tearing off your thin clothes before taking his off. He maneuvered you over to where the camera was and grabbed a handful of your hair, tugging it to bring your head back. “I want you to put that pretty mouth to use, you can do that for me right?”

He leaned in close and licked a stripe along your pulse point. “Yes, I can do that.” He groaned against your skin and placed his hands on your shoulders to push you down until you were eye level with his cock. A trail of neatly trimmed orange hair went down from his belly button to his cock, which stood proud in front of your face. It throbbed and was thicker than anything you’ve ever seen, it was also slightly above average length and curved slightly upwards. Your mouth watered at the sight of it and you stuck your tongue out to lick along the length of it, tracing the vein on the underside until you reached the head and started sucking on it.

He threw his head back and let out a groan of your name, it took everything in him to not start thrusting into your mouth. He wanted to let you take your time and get adjusted to his cock, so he’ll wait just a little longer. He placed one hand on your head while you started bobbing your head, guiding you along his length while you went at your own pace. “Fuck, you were made to suck cock. Taking it so good baby, my little cockslut.” You pressed your thighs together at his words, they came out mixed with his groans and you couldn’t help but move one hand down to start rubbing your clit.

By yourself, you were able to reach about halfway down his cock before you needed to move your head back for air but that wasn’t enough, wasn’t even close to enough. “Oh come on, I know you can do better than that. Such a greedy slut, too focused on yourself instead of the cock in your mouth. Guess I have to show you what you need to do.” He placed both of his large hands on either side of your head and held you in place as he started thrusting. In one swift thrust he was able to shove his cock all the way down your throat and your hands quickly shot up to hold onto his thighs. Wet gagging sounds filled the room while he fucked your face, you felt his muscles tense under your fingertips and you looked up at him with tear filled eyes. “What a messy girl, such a fucking mess and all for me. You’ve just been dying for this haven’t you? Of course you have, cock hungry whores like you just need cock down your throat, you need it more than oxygen.”

His heavy balls slapped against your chin as he started thrusting faster, your gags just spurred him on further. His hips snap against your face and guttural groans and borderline growls leave his lips. “Fuck, doing so good for me. Just a perfect slut for me.” He moved his hands to the back of your head and held you in place, your nose pressed right against his pubic hair. More tears and saliva coated your face as he held you and it became tougher to breathe through your nose. Just as you were about to start tapping his thighs he pulled you off his cock. Tendrils of spit connected your mouth to his cock while you greedily sucked up air. Your chest heaved and he leaned down to grip your spit covered chin, lifting your head up to meet his eyes. “Get on the bed, I want you on all fours facing your bookshelf. I’m going to fuck you so good, you’ll forget your name.”

You felt your pussy clench around nothing at his words and you quickly got into position. He moved behind you and leaned down while his calloused hands gripped your ass cheeks and spread them. He groaned at the sight of your wet pussy, watching how it clenched around nothing, practically begging him to force his cock inside. He spit on your clenching hole and got up, “please, I need your cock.” Your voice was all whiny and pitiful for him, you needed him so badly, you didn’t know how much longer you could wait.

But he had been waiting even longer for this moment. He gripped your hip tightly with one hand while the other was wrapped around his cock, lining himself up with your entrance. In one quick snap of his hips, he was buried inside you. The slight pain from the stretch was beyond pleasurable and the head of his cock was nuzzled against your g spot. Your body trembled underneath his and your back arched as your orgasm washed over you. “Fuck, just like a true cock slut, instantly cumming on my cock.” He gave you no time to recover before he started snapping his hips against yours, his hips hitting your ass roughly.

“Please! ‘S too much!” Your words were slurred as you weakly tried to bring one hand back to try to slow him down. He laughed at your effort and moved one of his hands to grip one of your shoulders to easily lift you up and his other hand moved to the side of your face, hooking two of his fingers into your mouth like a fishhook. “All you’re doing is whining when you should be crying out my name like a good fucktoy.” He groans out and snaps his hips against yours faster and harder. Your cries fill the room and he leans in to bite down along your back, leaving imprints of his teeth in his wake. “God, such a tight pussy being stretched out by my cock.” He groaned while all you could do was let out slurred babbles and whines of his name. More drool seeped from your mouth and your pussy got even slicker with each heavy thrust.

As he continued thrusting, you started losing track of how many orgasms he ripped out of you. You were being overstimulated by his thick cock each time it brushed along your walls. Your hands weakly gripped at the sheets underneath you, trying to keep yourself up but thanks to the grip on your shoulder, he was able to keep you held up. He snaked his hand over from your shoulder to your neck to hold you closer to him, just so his mouth was right by your ear. “Say hi to Raichi sweetheart, make sure you look at the bear with those pretty, empty eyes.” You clenched around his cock at his words but you couldn’t make proper sense of it. “Oh you poor dumb thing, I bet your little head is working overtime to make sense of it. I’ll break it down so you can understand, there’s a camera in the bear. The camera leads to a live footage that both Raichi and I can access. We’ve seen all the things you’ve done when you thought you were alone. Watched how you lotion your body after every shower, seen all your little ‘private’ fashion shows, watched how you’ve plunged that pathetic toy into this sloppy cunt. You’ve been our own private cam girl without even knowing, such a naive little thing. Now, Raichi is going to watch the pretty faces you make when you get filled with my cum.”

He turned his head to bite down on the crook of your neck, the action ripping another orgasm out of you and his hips snapped into yours even harder. You were practically limp in his hold at this point, all the orgasms he gave you making you weak. After a few hard thrusts he growled in your ear, cumming deep inside you. Your pussy milked his cock for all his cum and your chest heaved with each heavy breath.

“You did so good for me, took my cock like a fucking pro.” You just hummed in response to his words and he slowly pulled out of you so he could lay you down on the bed. You felt a bit cold without the warmth of his body and looked at him with half lidded eyes as he stood up. “Can we cuddle?” Your words were spoken barely above a whisper and he leaned down to kiss your lips then your temple. “Of course, let me just grab some water okay?”

You nodded and lifted your hands to rub at your eyes, walking the line between consciousness and unconsciousness as the exhaustion took over your body. He smiled down at you and walked over to grab his phone, opening up the text thread between him and Raichi and sent one message: “hope you enjoyed the show.”

taglist (link in navi): @litepowee @fuwushiguro (bc he’s your fav)

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Hugs for a Vampire (Astarion x GN!Reader) - Chapter 18: At Withers' Party

Bonus Hug - Chapter 18: At Withers' Party

Each chapter can be read as a standalone hug.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Rogue!Tav)

Genre: Fluffy, Filling in Canon

Rating: Teen

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, post-game, epilogue, cw: alcohol, jealousy

WC: 2.1k words, 18/18 chapters

Summary: An epilogue hug! Astarion sees Rogue!Tav giving out hugs and wants one of his own.

Author's Note: This was not part of the original fic, added on after the epilogue was released, however I chose to put my own spin on the epilogue hug.

Finally, Whether you read this fic AO3, on Tumblr, or a combo of both, thanks so much for joining the hugfest! I love this vampire man, and may he have many, many more hugs <3

Ao3 | [Hug17] | Hugs for a Vampire Masterlist

It’s been six months since your victory at Baldur’s Gate.

Six months of traveling through the Underdark with Astarion, establishing a base for the vampire spawn, and figuring out your next steps together. It was perilous and difficult work, but you wouldn’t change a single thing. 

You have missed your former companions dearly though, so when you received the invitation from Withers for a celebration, the smile that broke across your face could blind a celestial. I wouldn’t miss this for anything – not even a fresh new apocalypse, you wrote back.

So that’s how you and Astarion have found yourselves above ground once again, the familiar wilderness of the Sword Coast a welcome sight, the distinguished company an even more welcome one.

Everyone seems to be doing quite well, despite how you all left each other. Lae’zel is only able to visit through a projection, and the reprieve is rather temporary for a few of your companions– namely Wyll and Karlach– However, it’s a rare opportunity and you’re incredibly grateful to have it.

The elation must be obvious on your face, as Astarion takes one look at you and laughs. His sing-song little giggle never fails to bring a smile to your face, and right now your face is liable to crack open. “Go on, dear,” he says, sensing the eager tension in your body. “Mingle! If you need me, I shall be near the wine.”

“You can mingle too, you know,” you say, though you’ve already begun to walk away.

“Invite me again after a few bottles,” he responds. You know he loves them all in his own way, but he also finds them to be a bit too much at times. Ever the stray cat, he’ll find his way to them when he’s ready, at least you hope. So you nod to him in agreement and wander off to chat with your dearest friends.

You’re so excited to see them all again that you’re practically jogging to meet them. 

Shadowheart is the first. When you get a good look at her, you see a peace in her face that you haven’t seen in any of the months you’ve known her. Something about it brings you relief. You knew they would each find their happiness without you, but seeing it firsthand is something else. Perhaps it’s because she’s looking so much more herself than ever, but before long you find yourself asking, “Could I have a hug?” The hug is caring and welcoming and everything you knew Shadowheart has always been.

Next you make your way to Karlach. She’s alive and well, which is ten times better than the last time you saw her, and you just might cry from the sight. She tells you about Avernus and about the possibility to fix her heart and you just might cry from that as well. Again, you can’t resist, especially knowing she’s been fighting for her life for six months. “Could I have a hug?” The hug is warm and strong, just like the woman in your arms.

After that, you make your way to Wyll. He’s doing rather well in Avernus with Karlach, and, when he mentions that he’s planning to ensure Karlach finds a solution to her heart, a few tears well in your eyes. Wyll is among the best of mortal and immortal men, and you’re glad he went with Karlach when you couldn’t. The grateful feeling is more than you can put into words, so you ask, “Could I have a hug?” The hug is strong and bracing and an absolute testament to Wyll’s enduring friendship.

You find your way to Lae’zel. After learning of her diligent efforts to save her people from Vlaakith, you can’t help but be awestruck by how much she’s changed. You’re inspired by her ability to learn to fight with words and stunned by how much she truly misses you. Even though she’s not there, you can’t help yourself, “Could I have a hug?” She simply clicks her tongue at you and calls you an idiot, somehow melting your heart all the same.

Eventually, you find Gale, tucked away with the tressym Tara. He’s a teacher and no longer at risk of exploding – you can’t help laughing at that, remembering the various times he almost blew you all up without the help of an all-powerful orb. Something about the way he speaks of his new role and invites you to visit, either to teach or just to spend time, makes you realize that this is what a happy wizard looks like. You love it and ask, “Could I have a hug?” The hug is all-encompassing and lengthy, much like one of Gale’s lessons in magic.

Finally, you find Halsin, dancing the night away. When you learn more about his endeavors, you find that he’s reestablishing the settlement at Reithwin, reconnecting the land to its people. He mentions that Thaniel and Oliver are no longer lonely and that the children of the settlement bring him a fulfillment he never thought possible. After regaling him of an exaggerated tale of your and Astarion’s adventures, you assure him that the two of you will visit soon to tell more. “Could I have a hug?” The hug is surprisingly gentle and comforting, and you walk away feeling quite content.

You determine that you’ll need to ask the rest, even Withers, for hugs if they’ll all be this enjoyable. But before you do that, you decide to take a moment to yourself, to process everything.

That’s how you find your way to a quiet corner, head spinning with warm, fuzzy feelings and maybe a smidge too much wine. Just being here, surrounded by some of the best people you’ve ever had the privilege to encounter, fills you with a companionship you weren’t aware you’d been missing. Astarion fills you with so much love and happiness, but this– this is different.

As if summoned with your thoughts, the vampire walks toward you, wine glass in hand. "Are you done mingling?" Sensing your mind is elsewhere, he leans closer, inspecting your glassy, faraway gaze. His hand lands on the small of your back, jolting your attention back to the present and you turn to look at him. His eyes sparkle at you with radiant joy and a hint of something else. Could that be annoyance?

You decide to focus on the joy. "Yes, I think I've managed to get good conversations out of everyone. Did you know Gale wants me to go teach at Waterdeep?" Your voice sounds incredulous, after all, you warned him: once a rogue, always a rogue. Unless he wants his students to learn how to stab more efficiently, he would do best to seek someone else.

Astarion clearly agrees, making an exaggerated, aghast expression. "You? A teacher?" He shudders in fake-fear. "My love, I pity the poor students who would be subjected to your methods."

“Hey,” you say, shooting him a glare. “I thought you were supposed to be the supportive one!”

He laughs and shakes his head. “I can only support so much, my dear.” Then he takes a long look at you, noticing how unfocused your eyes are, the flush to your face. “And from the looks of it, I may need to support your entire body before the night is over.”

You only grin at him and say, “What did I do to deserve such a caring man?”

“Yes, yes,” he says, rubbing gentle circles along your back. “Likely whatever you did to deserve the affections of every adventurer this side of the Chionthar.” His tone is joking, but the dark look on his face says otherwise.

Pushing aside your own amusement, you pull his hand from your back and lean into him. “Okay, what's the matter, love?”

“Oh nothing. I just thought my jealous days were behind me.” He sounds sullen, and you note a sad tilt to his eyebrows.

Jealous days? You groan, recalling his concern over the fiery barbarian. “Love, really truly, if I were leaving you for Karlach, I would have gone to Avernus months ago.”

He waves his wine glass at you dismissively. “I know that, and I don’t mean Karlach, contrary to all evidence thus far.” Suddenly avoiding your gaze, he takes a sip of wine and changes the subject. “No matter, let’s go ask Withers where he found this vintage.” 

“No, no, no,” you say, tugging him back to you before he can walk off. After another six months together, getting used to each other’s idiosyncrasies outside of mortal peril (mostly out of mortal peril), you knew the escape was only a ruse. He wants to talk, but he seems too embarrassed to begin. “You’re allowed to be jealous, Astarion. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me why.”

Astarion stops in his tracks, looking back at you with a pair of vulnerable red eyes. “Do you promise not to laugh?”

You take a beat to debate this, but ultimately honesty wins over and you shake your head. “I wish I could, but I do promise to try my best?”

A sigh escapes him, and you’re graced with a soft, reluctant smile. “Typical. You were truthful though, so I shall be too. I was rather jealous of…” He wipes a hand over his face dramatically. “I was jealous that you’ve gone and hugged everyone else. Gods, I sound like a child.”

It’s a good thing you only promised to try your best because an involuntary huff leaves your lips, which you'd firmly pressed together in preparation. "That is…" you gasp out.

"Idiotic? Pathetic?" Astarion supplies.

"Rather adorable actually," you say, finally allowing a snort out. “How do you always manage to be both adorable and sexy?”

You swear you can see the tips of his ears color pink, but that may just be the firelight or your own tipsy vision. He only says, “I’m quite talented.”

“Would a hug help you feel better?”

Astarion looks at you, eyes darting between yours. You can see a bit of hesitation in them, and you’re wondering why when he says, “Only if it’s not a pity hug.”

“Never,” you say, solemnly. “You know I only give hugs I mean.”

He clicks his tongue, annoyed again. He places his wine glass down on the ground with a flourish, as if preparing himself. “Yes, exactly. Which is why I’ve gone and become jealous. This is all your fault and I expect you to remedy it.”

You nod, accepting this burden with ease. “In that case… Could I hug you?” Astarion waves his hand at you as if to say, get on with it already, and you dive right in. 

The hug is loving, it’s understanding and supportive. It warms you, it cools you, and it makes you want to tackle this man to the ground in an aggressive affection– a feeling you only barely temper after a few glasses of wine. After experiencing so many hugs tonight, you find that the hug is so very perfectly him.

No, not just him. It’s the type of hug that the both of you make together. And it’s the hug you want to experience again and again for the rest of your life.

When you finally pull away from him, Astarion is smiling once more, jealousy evidently placated. “Well now, I have you every night, don’t I? Go on then, continue to bless them with your presence. I’ll be here when you’re ready. I’ll always be here, my love.”

You shake your head at him. “A lovely sentiment, of course, but you’re done hiding. Come on.”

“What?” he asks, brows furrowing as he tilts away from you.

“I said, you’re done hiding. No more shadows, they all keep asking about you and I’d rather you answer them yourself,” you say, all but dragging him back to the party now. “They miss you too, you know.”

“Darling, please. What if they ask me for a hug?” Astarion looks truly appalled at the thought.

You laugh, imagining him reacting like a cat forced into a bathtub. “You can say no, of course. But I promise not to get too jealous if you do.”

“What will it take for you to forget I ever said that?” he says, laughing and allowing himself to be dragged.

You quickly swipe his wine glass back up off the ground as you pull him along, and take a long drink before returning it to him. You only say, “At least two more bottles, though I suppose that depends on how wild Withers likes his parties.”

Hand-in-hand, you both walk off to enjoy the rest of the celebration. The night is young, the wine is flowing, and there are still many more hugs to be shared.