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#glass figure photography
parker1048 · 11 months
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i was fucking around with poses earlier and i got this shot and i love it. absolutely love. the framing is too good
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1five1two · 2 years
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tftoy-pics · 1 year
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I want a Dark Souls and Transformers crossover.
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I hate the idea of “modernized” adaptations.. if anything we should do the opposite.. take a popular show from 2015 and remake it set in the 1850s or 1400s or something.. it’s about the COSTUMES, it’s about the settings...!! i see fucking iphones and skinny jeans and mcdonalds and automobiles every day of my life.. it’s boring!!!! WHERE are the people in long velvet cloaks.. the elaborate architecture.. the showcase of previously forgotten technology and culture relevant to the time period.... 
#I can't think of a single show that I wouldn't like MORE if it were set in either a historical or a fantasy world#(so long as it had an actual budget and the 'historical fashion' wasn't like.. a prom dress from JC penny or something)#even reality tv shows#I would love a mockumentary style fake 'reality tv' (since it's actually actors doing improv not real people) version of like#bad girls club set in the 1600s or like in a fantasy setting ghvghvgfh#NOTHING.. NOTHING can not be improved by simply setting it in a time and place that is not our own#n o t h i n g#and EVERYTHING can be made worse by setting it in modern times#i have had ENOUGH of modern times.. i fucking LIVE here#let's see something else for a change PLEASE#I don't want to hear a character talk about TikTok... they should be talking about Telegram or Treacherous Magic Portal#Of Communication.#All characters are instantly made better with the knowledge that jeff bezos does not exist to them and none of them have#ever sent a text or rode in a car#(single exception is like 1890s-1910s automobiles that look funny and ONLY if they're a very minor part of the setting OR in a fantasy world#(like.. orcs that actually have cars but it's that type of car gjbjhhj... I like the idea of elevanting fantasy technology in a world#beyond the typical like weird medieval sort of vibes  where some groups DO have tech similar to the real world but just older or worse#or weirder versions. elves have basic telegrams and are figuring out glass plate photography. vampires are trying to master#flight at the moment and they keep failing and just sending people off the edge of cliffs to explode. etc. etc. ghbhjb)#ANYWAY .. you get what i mean ghbhj#I'm still trying to go through every media I've ever watched and think if any of them would be worse set in a historical or fantasy#world and I can't think of any.. ultimate improvement tool (again. with the assumption that it's actually handled WELL with a thought out#researched world and decent budget. etc.)#*watching masterchef or something completely average* wow what if everyone was in baroque costumes instead.. this would be better#somehow.. surely the cooking would be improved
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russellmoreton · 1 year
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Metaphysics/Atmospheric Cosmogonies by Russell Moreton Via Flickr: russellmoreton.blogspot.com/
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radioactivetoad · 3 months
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Boyd’s URANIUM Glass Lil JoeHorse Stallion
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*makes a whole bunch of art and crafts*
“I want to sell this so I can make EVEN MORE and also hopefully someone else will enjoy it!”
*can’t fucking drive because of my gods damned epilepsy*
“Alright, so, while I could probably walk this stuff to the ups store two blocks over during spring and fall, once it starts to get really snowy the sidewalks are going to be shit and i don’t want to risk damaging something before I can even send it!” 🥲🫠
#emma posts#all summer it was an issue of time and temperature#i overheat easily#and while I can walk more once the weather gets below like 75 I guess? maybe 80. there is only a limited opening before the rain turns into#snow and i have to trudge through poorly maintained sidewalks without damaging my art#if the city kept the sidewalks clearer it would probably work#but sometimes a sidewalk will just stop existing for at least four months because the snowplows will cover it up#and it will be under like four feet of snowpack that was pushed out of the way for cars#I don’t know what to do 😫#and sure. there IS public transportation here. but they don’t go everywhere and have to be scheduled at least 24hours in advance#I’m also insecure about some of my stuff#some of it i would even give away for free because of that but then it would cost me money to ship#i have photography up online. sure. but the physical things#those are the problem#i especially love to create jewelry but I can only give away so much as gifts#and it would be nice to make some money back so I can keep making more and improving#but then every time I make an improvement I feel like shit about my old stuff!#I am trying to figure out the best way to seal the paper and glass in a pendant without the glue smudging it#and while my old work isn’t BAD. it’s worse than it could be#I don’t do much except read and make art so I keep wanting to create and share more#but im so bad at the sales part#if I liked knitting I could donate it and stuff#but i don’t think many places would take handmade jewelry and stuff#I know a place in a large city a few hours away that might. but they are… not the easiest to get to#creating things is my passion and makes me happy and since I can’t drive it’s one of the only things I can do regularly#but I want to do SOMETHING with what I make#and if I made money off it i could make even more stuff! and also maybe save up for better equipment!#over the years I’ve gotten really good at finding cheap options. but sometimes you just can’t get something super cheap#I’ve been wondering if my friend who has started a photography business would be open to teaming up#but she does portraits and I do everything but that
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colleendoran · 1 year
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How Do I Do Stuff
The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.
I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.
Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.
I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.
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I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.
This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.
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I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.
This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.
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But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.
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He's pretty, too.
If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.
Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.
Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.
Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.
However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.
Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.
The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.
Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.
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I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.
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While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.
So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.
If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.
Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.
Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.
So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.
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the-paradigm-web · 2 years
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yarrowgiovanni · 5 months
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I tried to create that meme. Lol!
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OG meme below
I probably need to work on it a little more.
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spookyserenades · 4 months
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Trouvaille - Chapter Thirteen
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Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader
Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance
Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.
Word Count; 16.9k
Trouvaille Masterlist
Trouvaille playlist
Updates on the 7th of each month
Hi loves! A little late on this New Year update, but I' m happy to be able to share Chapter Thirteen with you all! This is a fluffy, sweet update, with a side of angst and a little spiciness I hope you all had lovely holidays, and have the best 2024. As always, I love to hear what you all think of these updates, and again, thank you for your patience with this update. Lots of love from Dana! 💕
Previous Chapter // Next Chapter
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Steadying her breaths, Y/N slid the skirt fabric of her cranberry-colored velvet dress between her fingertips, shuddering involuntarily as another family came through the front door of the rec center, bringing an icy blast of outside air into the lobby. In her other hand, she had some sort of wintery champagne cocktail, a sprig of rosemary tickling the tip of her nose every time she took a sip from the fluted glass. Compared to Taehyung’s previous photography expo, there were twice as many people. It was during the inky evening, and everyone was dressed up in their holiday finery– jazzy Christmas music filling the festive space. Currently, she was standing by herself towards the back of the room, breaking away from Taehyung to get a fresh drink, and to collect her thoughts. 
As if on cue, a shiver rolled down her spine delicately, her eyes catching sync with a pair of narrowed, sharp, golden-green eyes from across the joyfully decorated room, all of the breath being forcibly withdrawn from her lungs. Everything around her turned to a blur; her cheeks had flames licking at the flesh, and her heart swelled three times its size behind her ribcage. Ever-so-subtly, Yoongi lifted his champagne flute a few centimeters into the air in acknowledgement, sending a smirk and a wink her way. 
Y/N felt the flush in her cheeks heat up the back of her neck, too, cutting the chill that was periodically blowing into the room. She nervously cast a wide-sweeping glance around the room, paranoid that someone had caught the brief, but charged interaction– but amongst the sea of dozens of hybrids and their families, she couldn’t spot any of her other six boys. Which was odd, no doubt, considering their clinginess or the fact that at least one of them was always hanging out around the minibar.
She visually located the leopard hybrid once again, his focus still on her with great amusement all over his delicate face, and Y/N allowed herself to fully take in her love’s appearance leisurely, now that she was sure she wasn’t being carefully watched by one of the others. 
Apart from his sparkling, sharp feline eyes, his hair was tucked behind his ears meticulously in feathered pitch-dark, shoulder length waves, showing off several shiny silver hoops threaded through his earlobes. His spotted ears, of course, perked up and alert as if trying to listen for her shallow breaths from where he leaned against the wall by the bathrooms, his elegant figure on display in the black satin button down he was in. Dragging her eyes down his body slowly, meaningfully, she subconsciously bit down on her lip as she soaked in the way his dress pants hugged his slim legs, the way one of his strong, talented hands was tucked into a pocket, before her once-over returned back to Yoongi’s stunning face, fixated on the fullness of his mouth. 
At once, she remembered the way his lips felt against her own. First sweet, ripe with fulfillment– then turning feverish, desperate, wanting. Instinctively, perhaps, Yoongi’s tongue flicked out to moisten the flesh of his lower lip, Y/N recalling how it felt to have it gliding against her own, and before she could get too lost in that memory, she promptly snapped out of it and shot Yoongi a stubborn scowl. He was teasing her on purpose, she knew it.
Turning on the heel of her black pumps, Y/N tried her best to rein in her lewd thoughts by stuffing a Christmas cookie into her mouth, nearly choking on the dryness of it. It was probably high time for her to go and find Taehyung again, anyways, and with her and Yoongi’s relationship status both still murky and very much a secret, she didn’t want to risk getting too close to the leopard hybrid that night. Not when she felt like pushing him into the nearest supply closet to kiss the wind out of him. 
“Darling, pass me one of those gingerbread dudes, will you?” Y/N flinched in total shock when she felt a clever palm slide across her upper back and settle on one of her shoulder blades, the clean, outdoorsy scent of Hoseok filling her senses and making her stiffen awkwardly. 
Wordlessly, Y/N plucked a cookie off of the platter, peering upwards and sideways as she offered it to her fox hybrid as normally as she could. As if she wasn’t just thinking about Yoongi’s tongue down her throat. 
Hoseok’s brilliant cocoa eyes were glittering mischievously, all of the multicolored lights decked around the room making his wavy mahogany hair seem more auburn than ever. He, like Yoongi, was dressed smartly, a stark difference to his typical athleisure. A simple white button down, an even simpler sporty charcoal blazer, and matching dress pants. Hoseok did have some funky, embellished loafers on, however, true to his tendencies to pick out flashy or colorful statement pieces for his wardrobe. He looked amazing– sexy, dangerously so. 
“You see Tae-tae’s pictures yet?” Hoseok asked over a bite of cookie, leaning his hip against the minibar and glancing around the room. ‘Tae-tae’ was a sort of condescending nickname Hoseok had begun to use in reference to the Kodiak hybrid, but Y/N secretly found it kind of cute. 
“No, I haven’t. He said he wanted to make sure they put up the right frames and set it up the way he wanted it before he showed me,” Y/N reached up to adjust the slightly-askew collar of Hoseok’s dress shirt, her icy fingertips brushing over the golden skin of the base of his throat, the fox hybrid shivering almost imperceptibly at the contact. 
Still, with her focus on Hoseok, she could feel Yoongi’s eyes lingering on her burning holes into the back of her head. And as if Hoseok could read her mind, he cleared his throat, Y/N focusing back on the pools of caramel swirling around in the fox hybrid’s irises; inquisitive, intelligent, and kind. 
“So, how are things? You know, with… Yoongi?” Hoseok purposefully whispered the leopard hybrid’s name, though Y/N had no doubt that even then, Yoongi was likely completely dialed into what her and Hoseok were talking about it. Y/N winced, remembering the brief text conversation she had with Hoseok nearly a week ago. 
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On her nightstand, where she had left it, her phone chimed, making her flinch and swear. Blindly reaching for it, still a little hazy from the scenting and makeout session, she unlocked her phone, only to feel dread wash over her as she read the text that she received.
Hoseok 🦊: What the hell is going on with you and Yoongi? 
Y/N: um, what do you mean?
Heart racing, Y/N felt nausea welling up in her gut as she watched three little dots appear on her screen, Hoseok speedily crafting a response. Everything that happened between her and Yoongi was in the music room, which was professionally soundproofed, but there was an off-chance that Hoseok might have caught them in the hall in front of her bedroom moments ago– and if that was the case, they would be screwed. 
Hoseok 🦊: Idk, things seem weird between you guys. Tense
Hoseok 🦊: Did you have a fight or something???
Y/N let out a breath that could blow down a house. So, Hoseok hadn’t caught her and Yoongi red-handed before they could figure out how to explain their… changed relationship dynamic. Once again, she had raced to conclusions. Y/N had been an idiot not to realize that the other hybrids definitely picked up on the odd distance her and Yoongi were suspended in. 
Y/N: Yeah, I guess we had a few disagreements recently. I talked to him tonight though, we’ve patched everything up
Hoseok 🦊: Oh, good! I don’t like seeing you so sad 🥺
Hoseok 🦊: and Yoongi’s cooking has been bland or bitter lately. Even the coffee sucks
Y/N: you could always do the cooking you know, honey
Y/N: thank you for worrying about me Hoseok 🦊💕
Y/N bit her still kiss-swollen lower lip thinking about her fox hybrid, probably cozy in his bed in the basement, the space heater no doubt blasting, sleepily texting her to make sure she was okay after her piano lesson with Yoongi. Contrary to Hoseok’s teasing nature, he was always looking out for Y/N in his own way. It made her feel warm all over, as she reached for her nightstand to switch off her lamp, when her phone chimed again– this time, a message from a different sender. 
Yoongi 👼🏻: sleep well.
Y/N: love you, angel 
Yoongi 👼🏻: I love you too, my silly girl
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“Earth to Y/N,” Hoseok chuckled, squeezing the meat of one of her cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, Y/N realizing that she had been staring at the fox hybrid’s neck absently while she got lost in her thoughts. “Where did you just go?”
Using a gentle tap on his wrist to bat Hoseok’s hand away from her heated cheeks, she snapped back to the present, cocking her head and resuming her task of fixing the collar of his shirt. 
“I’m right here, honey,” Y/N murmured, trying to figure out how to either dodge his earlier question or figure out how to dance around the truth. “Everything’s fine now. Haven’t you noticed he hasn’t burnt the coffee lately?”
Hoseok snorted, hands shooting out to wiggle his fingers against her ribcage, tickling her sides and making her giggle in response. Concern dissolved from Hoseok’s eyes at the sound, one of his russet ears flickering playfully, relenting on his tickling attack by hooking one of his elbows around Y/N’s. 
“Let’s look around. I think Jinnie misses you,” Hoseok changed the subject, dropping his serious demeanor and going right back to his default cheeriness with that whistle tone of his. 
“Oh really? You didn’t miss me at all, just Seokjinnie?” Y/N teased, feeling Hoseok’s full tail brush the back of her thighs through her tights. “Here I was, missing you, and you just came to ferry me over to someone else!”
Again, Hoseok snorted, though Y/N could swear a peachy blush bloomed across his cheekbones. 
“You know, darling, you’re getting better and better at flirting these days. Maybe you’ll be on my level in a few months,” Hoseok quipped, making Y/N use their hooked elbows to nudge his side in embarrassment. 
“Who said I was flirting?” Y/N mumbled, under her breath and to no one in particular. 
Hoseok whistled again, towing her along as they weaved through the crowd of hybrids and their families. Amongst the sea of bodies in the room, the only other hybrid of hers that Y/N could spot was Jeongguk, who’s antlers were visible towards the front door of the rec center. Y/N suspected he was attempting to sneak out for a smoke. 
Hoseok dragged her to a corner of the room, near another table full of Christmas cookies and cocktails, where Seokjin and Jimin were lingering with little cups of alcoholic eggnog. Both of them, of course, looked impossibly handsome, their ears immediately perking up as they no doubt caught Y/N’s scent. 
Seokjin turned first, dressed in a navy suit Y/N helped him pick out to compliment his fiery eyes, a few buttons of his cream-colored oxford shirt undone at the top to accommodate the wideness of his chest. Y/N discovered that finding shirts that fit the jaguar hybrid’s frame was rather challenging– one size would be too baggy for his trim waist, and another not quite large enough for his broad shoulders. Despite that, however, he always managed to look absolutely perfect. 
Seokjin was grinning, his cheeks rosy from the eggnog, his eyes dragging up and down Y/N’s form in a way that had her squirming under his scrutiny. It was all she could do earlier to talk him off a ledge when she came out of her room in a dress, and not swaddled up in ski wear. Now, with alcohol flooding through him… his gaze was a bit more heated as opposed to disapproving. 
Jimin, on the other hand, was mid-sip of his drink, nodding in acknowledgement as her and Hoseok appeared in front of him, looking sharp in a classic black suit and brand-new shiny loafers. The coyote hybrid even broke out some of the jewelry he had brought with him from Montana; silver bracelets and hoop earrings, the holiday lights glinting off of them. Seeing Jimin so dressed up had her feeling dizzy, as his usual uniform was rugged blue jeans and well-worn tee shirts so he could comfortably take care of the animals in the stable. As if he could read her mind, Jimin winked at her, setting his empty glass down on the table with a wry smirk. 
“Uh, has anyone seen Tae in the last fifteen minutes? I still haven’t seen his photos, he disappeared on me,” Y/N cleared her throat, overwhelmed by the three incredibly handsome, incredibly well-dressed hybrids surrounding her like a pack of wolves. 
Seokjin shook his head with a pout, probably thinking that he had somehow disappointed her by not having information, and Hoseok had busied himself by stacking more cookies onto his cocktail napkin. Really, the only one who actually warmed up to Taehyung was Yoongi, and Y/N wasn’t about to seek out the leopard hybrid when fantasies of him were still running rampant in her mind. 
“I just saw him a moment ago, talking to the club leader. He had a big frame under his arm, I think he was likely swapping it out for another,” Jimin lifted his nose in the air and took a delicate inhale, Y/N wondering if he was trying to locate Taehyung by scent. 
“Tae-tae will come out of the woodwork when he’s ready. I wouldn’t dare try and find him before he’s ready, remember the time you walked by him editing photos on your laptop? I thought he was going to have a stroke, ‘they’re not done yet!’,” Hoseok mimicked Taehyung’s deep voice, a playful look on his face as Y/N rolled her eyes. 
“Even if you’re being an ass about it, you’re right,” Y/N admitted, glancing around the room once more to try and see if she could spot Namjoon or Jeongguk. “Looks like Joonie’s hiding from me too.”
“No he’s not. He’s just in the bathroom,” Hoseok took Y/N’s empty champagne from her, replacing it with a new one. Ever since Halloween, Hoseok had made quite impressive progress in being able to hang around Namjoon without flinching or blanching. “The elk is the one you have to worry about. He might hotwire your car to get out of here, he’s been adjusting his suit all night like it’s giving him a rash.”
“He doesn’t even know how to drive, Hoseok,” Y/N grumbled, though the thought had crossed her mind. “You’re gonna get a stomach ache if you eat all those cookies, by the way.”
“I’m just making sure I eat enough calories for my meet!” Hoseok exclaimed, green-and-red sprinkles stuck to the corners of his mouth as his eyes went wide. 
“Your next meet is in four days,” Seokjin pointed out helpfully, Hoseok nearly choking on his bite of frosted sugar cookie. “You don’t need to be carb-loading now.”
“Jinnie, at least you know my schedule,” Hoseok clapped a hand over Seokjin’s back, making the jaguar hybrid nearly spill his eggnog all over the front of Y/N’s dress, causing him to hiss sharply. 
“Quit doing that! I almost ruined her pretty dress,” Seokjin yanked on one of Hoseok’s triangular ears, a yelp coming from Hoseok pitifully. Y/N, however, was too busy bashfully staring down at her dress that Seokjin apparently thought was pretty. 
“You two better cut it out, or we’re going to get thrown out,” Jimin rolled his eyes, pushing honey hair off of his face with disdain. If there was one thing the coyote hybrid couldn’t stand, it was the others drawing unnecessary attention to themselves. 
 Snapping out of her daze, she herded the three hybrids away from the refreshments table and the cocked eyebrows of several onlookers, one hand on Jimin’s back and the other around Seokjin’s bicep, mindful of the drinks in their hands. 
“So, when do you think we can get out of here? I miss my sweats,” Hoseok leaned against a cinderblock wall, eyes narrowed on photographs on display across from him; a collection of landscape photos by a young calico hybrid girl, who was proudly showing her work to her family. 
“That’s up to Tae. We’re staying as long as he wants,” Y/N again tried to find Taehyung in the busy room, and finally spotted him over in the corner where his work was in his last expo.
He appeared pensive, hands tucked into the pockets of his emerald green velvet suit jacket, eyebrows pulled together as he bent low to stare at one of his pictures. Instead of catching him off guard and peeking at his pictures before they were ready, Y/N fished her phone she had tucked away in Seokjin’s suit pocket for safekeeping, smiling softly at the startled purr he responded with. 
Y/N: I’m sure they look beautiful, can we see them now?
Taehyung paused, probably feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket, lowering his eyes from the framed pictures on the wall to check his phone. A whisper of a secret grin formed on his lips, his wild dark curls covering the upper part of his face as he began to type out a response.
Tae 🐻: Okay, they’re ready. They put everything in the wrong order and frames, that’s why it took so long for me to fix
Y/N: Heading over to you now, can’t wait!
“Thanks for holding onto this for me, honey,” Y/N handed her phone back to Seokjin, who promptly tucked it back into his suit pocket, shaking his head as if to say ‘don’t mention it’. “Tae said he’s ready, should we check out his pictures?”
Hoseok began muttering, still not entirely warm and fuzzy towards the Kodiak hybrid, but followed her, Seokjin, and Jimin to Taehyung awaiting them. Along the way, she was able to snag Jeongguk by his shirt cuff– he had managed to ditch his sport jacket and was just in his black button down. 
“What, did you go to the car and leave your jacket in there when you went out to smoke? Won’t you be cold later?” Y/N scolded, tugging on his cuff with a reproachful look. Jeongguk simply scoffed, but allowed her to drag him across the room. 
“You keep forgetting we run hotter than you do,” Jeongguk responded, using his free hand to flick her forehead softly, something he seemed to really enjoy doing lately. 
She knew she didn’t have to call out for Namjoon or Yoongi. The former would appear when he wanted, considering he and Taehyung were still not the friendliest to each other, and Yoongi would always show up when she thought of him– as if they had some sort of telepathy that connected them. For all Y/N knew, perhaps they did, stranger things had happened in her life. 
Thinking of the devil, her leopard hybrid slunk from the shadows, meeting her and the others by the window where Taehyung was waiting. Yoongi offered her a private side-eye, taking his time giving her a once-over. While the others weren’t looking, she mouthed ‘stop that’ to him, before promptly tearing her attention from him in order to put it all on Taehyung. Breaking free from Seokjin and Hoseok, Y/N approached Taehyung with an excited expression, already reaching out to hook one of her arms around his waist. 
“Mm, you look nice in this color, Tae,” Y/N murmured lowly, using her fingertips to brush along the soft velvet of his suit jacket. Indeed, the dark green brought out the deep red in his eyes, and complimented the honeyed shade of his skin. 
Taehyung leaned into her embrace, chuckling softly at her compliment. Y/N was too preoccupied soaking in every microexpression and how beautiful he looked to immediately take a look at his pictures on the wall, enjoying the scent of sandalwood mingling with fruity champagne that was coming off of Taehyung so temptingly. 
“We don’t have to stay for much longer, I know Foxy wants to leave…” Taehyung said, in his signature whispery voice; a private moment between the two of them. 
“We leave whenever you’re ready, Tae! Don’t listen to Hoseok, he just likes to whine,” Y/N frowned, pinching Tae’s side for emphasis. Behind her and to the left a little ways away, she heard Hoseok squawking in disbelief. “Okay, I’m dying to know what your photos look like!”
Clearing his throat, Taehyung took a step forward, Y/N slightly stumbling along as her arm was still linked around his waist. It was then when she could get a long-awaited look at Taehyung’s work, which was lit up with twinkling Christmas lights draped around the partition wall the frames were fastened to. 
Y/N didn’t know what to focus on first. Compared to his previous expos, where there were only about four to six images on display, there were eight rather large prints on the wall this time, all arranged in a circle around a ninth photograph, the largest of all. Taking a breath, Y/N released her hold on Taehyung to edge a step nearer. 
The photo in the center was one of their house, taken recently at night, by the looks of it. Leaves of the willow trees were stripped bare, and the grass in front of the porch frosty and crystallized. Though the picture of the house was in black and white, it was still apparent that most of the lights in the house were on– Y/N could see Yoongi’s and Jimin’s bedroom lamps on, and the chandelier in the foyer was visible. Even the Christmas lights and garland wrapped around the porch and pillars could be detected, and the home looked merry and festive, full of life. It reminded her, compared to how it looked through Taehyung’s lens, of how she had longed the house to be so lived-in only days before she actually adopted any of the hybrids. 
It seemed that Taehyung really loved their home. He always managed to sneak a picture of it into his presentation at the expo, and each time it made her chest squeeze with an emotion she could not match to the sensation. Blindly, she extended her hand backwards, searching for Taehyung, and his broad palm immediately slipped into her grasp. 
The other pictures were all portraits of himself, the other six hybrids, and Y/N, and each portrait was in a horizontal frame– a black and white outtake of each of them when Taehyung took their ID photos, and a colored candid directly next to it. At the top of the circle around the house was Y/N’s set of pictures; the ID outtake of her looking sheepish, hand over her chest as Hoseok’s hand in the frame was pulling a flyaway hair out of her berry lip gloss. The colored one, in juxtaposition, was Y/N slightly slumped over her morning cup of coffee, dressed in her Stevie Nicks-type clothing before she headed off to work, completely unaware that Taehyung was snapping pictures of her. 
Y/N had grown used to Taehyung taking pictures of her by now, so she wasn’t totally surprised that she was part of his expo. That said, she still couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed that she was on display, and that all of her hybrids were completely ignoring their own portraits to point and exclaim at Y/N’s. Taehyung squeezed her hand gently, and Y/N pretended she didn’t care what the others were saying about her portrait, and instead studied the others. 
Y/N had already seen the ID outtakes of the other hybrids, as she had helped Taehyung pick the best ones out to send in for the physical copies of the IDs, but she delighted in seeing them again, and was even more fascinated by the candids she hadn’t seen before. Jimin’s candid was him in the backyard, riding Vista around the exercise pen at sunset with a carefree expression, the colors of gold and orange warming her up from the inside out. Below him was Hoseok, grinning wryly at someone off-camera after an afternoon run, a sweat towel around his neck and a water bottle clutched in his hand– Y/N could practically hear the picture. Next was Jeongguk, though the picture taken of him was from behind, and apparently by Taehyung positioned at the threshold of Jeongguk’s bedroom door. Only a hint of Jeongguk’s side profile was visible, a cigarette poised between his lips as he leaned over his balcony, eyelashes almost brushing his cheek as he read from his journal. 
“Little voyeuristic of you to stand in my room taking pictures of me, don’t you think, bear?” Jeongguk lifted a pierced brow, scrunching up his nose in an accusatory manner. 
“It’s not like you didn’t hear or smell me standing there. You could have told me to fuck off,” Taehyung responded blandly, Y/N extremely surprised that he used such language in a public setting. Jeongguk, too, seemed somewhat impressed that Taehyung challenged him back. 
At the bottom of the circle were Taehyung’s self-portraits. Instead of taking a picture of himself in the mirror like he had for his very first expo, his “candid” was one of Taehyung laying on his side in the music room on the floor, headphones on, listening to his record collection. From the angle that the photo was taken, Y/N figured he had placed his camera on top of the turntable. It was a lovely picture of him, the soft mid-morning light filtering in from the windows and striking one of his eyes just so that the viewer of the image could pick up on the carmine hue of his irises. 
“These are really gorgeous, Tae,” Y/N felt her throat grow thick, emotions beginning to overwhelm her as she examined picture after picture of her boys. “How did you come up with this idea?”
Y/N waited for Taehyung’s response while she moved onto Yoongi’s pictures, her heart skipping a beat or two. Pressing a hand to her mouth to contain her grin, she realized that in Yoongi’s candid– which was of him putting away groceries in the pantry– half of her body was in the frame, handing Yoongi boxes of sugary cereal Namjoon favored. Yoongi looked soft, in loungewear that he typically donned to the grocery store. 
“We were given a theme to work with…” Taehyung said ambiguously, waiting for Y/N to soak in every photograph and figure it out on her own, perhaps. 
The final two, Seokjin and Namjoon, might have been her favorites. The eldest hybrid’s photo was him curled up in the breakfast nook with a copy of Pride and Prejudice, his tail wrapped around his waist, and a steaming cup of coffee in one of his hands. Y/N was fond of the particular expression Seokjin was wearing in that photograph, deep concentration and immersion with his thick eyebrows pulled together, hair mussed off of his forehead because he’d play with it while he read.
Finally, to the left of Y/N’s portraits on the top of the circle was Namjoon’s, and in stark difference to his stern-looking ID outtake, he was all soft edges and dimples in the colored photograph. It was the only picture that Y/N remembered Taehyung actually taking, as it was right over her shoulder while her and Namjoon were in the middle of a chess match, the fireplace roaring behind Namjoon while he kicked her ass yet again. Considering Taehyung and Namjoon still barely tolerated one another past a begrudging “good morning” every now and again, the picture perfectly encapsulated how much Namjoon could soften around others when his guard was down. 
By then, Y/N was on the verge of tears, so overcome with love for each of her hybrids that she couldn’t help but turn on her heel to face-plant directly into Taehyung’s chest, squeezing him until an animalistic wheeze came from the depths of his lungs. 
“Y/N, did you see the picture he took of me? I should make that my Instagram profile picture, what do you think?” Hoseok crowed from behind her, no doubt clocking how attractive he looked in it. “I’m glad you didn’t pick that other one for my ID, though. My left ear was drooping.”
Y/N was too busy pressing her face further into Taehyung’s silky black button-down, squashing down tears as best she could. She always bought Taehyung’s prints after an expo, but all she wanted then and there was to pull each frame off of the wall and squirrel them off to her car like a bandit. In her head, she could see all of the pictures lining the walls up the stairwell…
“She okay?” Namjoon joined the clump of them standing around Taehyung’s exhibit, his voice beside her and Taehyung as she held onto the Kodiak hybrid for dear life. 
Taehyung grunted in response, one of his hands smoothing down the back of her head soothingly, though she could feel his chest rumbling in what she assumed was minor amusement. 
“She’s just sappy,” Yoongi helpfully volunteered, his gravelly voice sounding bored and a bit distant. Last time she caught him out of the corner of her eye, he was leaning against the window a few feet from everyone else. 
“Oh! All of your subjects are here, Taehyung?” A new voice joined the conversation, Y/N recognizing it as the woman who ran the hybrid photography club. Vaguely mortified, Y/N pulled herself together enough to release Taehyung and face the woman, who was admiring the photos of Y/N, her hybrids, and their home. “You’ve improved so much these past couple of months. Your exhibit turned out wonderfully– sorry about the frame mixup, by the way. Lost in translation!”
Taehyung simply shook his head, his neck flushing with all of the attention on him, one of his fists bunched up in the fabric of Y/N’s dress, right where her waist met her hip. 
“So, did you tell them the theme of tonight’s expo?” The woman prompted, smiling warmly at Taehyung like she was more than used to his quiet, reserved nature. 
“I think he likes for us to guess,” Hoseok piped up, biting his tongue mischievously as Jimin lightly stepped on his foot with an agitated twitch to his sandy ear. 
“No guesses?” The woman placidly asked, folding her plum-polished fingers delicately around her champagne flute. Taehyung stiffened beside Y/N as if to brace himself, and both her and most of the hybrids either shrugged or shook their heads. 
“Well, the theme was family, of course! Of home!”
Y/N thought she might have squeaked out a surprised ‘oh’, but she couldn’t be sure with the ringing in her ears as she processed that very significant scrap of information. She wasn’t the only flabbergasted one, every other hybrid had varying levels of disbelief and pure shock on their faces. Taehyung wasn’t one to be brotherly with the rest of them, in fact he usually avoided interacting with them if he could, so for the Kodiak hybrid to include them in a family-themed exhibit was dumbfounding, though incredibly sweet. 
“Here I was, thinking it was expectations versus reality,” Hoseok broke the stunned silence, always the one to bounce back immediately when something unexpected unfolded. 
The group leader snorted over the rim of her champagne glass, Taehyung’s posture loosening up once the tension was broken, Y/N composing herself once more by allowing a giggle to escape at Hoseok’s remark, once again grateful for the fox hybrid’s ability to bring ease into any sort of situation. 
“Oh dear! I forgot to check up on how much champagne we have in the back room. I think we may have underestimated how many people would enjoy the signature cocktail,” the woman interrupted the somewhat-awkward giggling amongst her, Hoseok, and Seokjin, though Y/N had a suspicion she was making something up so she could let them all have a private moment. “Enjoy the rest of the expo!”
With that, she disappeared into the festive crowd, and Y/N began staring lovingly at Taehyung’s pictures once more. Some of her boys took that as their cue to be dismissed, Namjoon and Jeongguk fading into the masses of people in search of a fresh cocktail, Hoseok, Jimin, and Seokjin moving on to check out other exhibits. Yoongi had long since evaporated as soon as the awkward giggling began minutes prior, Y/N managing to catch him heading towards the bathroom with a hand over his mouth to hide his amusement. 
So, she was left with just Taehyung in front of his photos, suddenly at a loss at what to say to him, if anything at all. 
“Um… sorry. She can be a little corny,” Taehyung murmured, Y/N craning her neck to meet Taehyung’s eyes once he spoke. Snorting, she nudged Taehyung’s hip with her own. 
“Actually, she reminds me a bit of my mom. I guess she can be corny, too, though,” Y/N admitted, watching Taehyung step in front of her and block her view of the pictures on the wall. 
“You really like them? You don’t think anyone minded that I displayed pictures of them, do you?” Taehyung asked vulnerably, a subtle pout jutting out his lower lip as he made eye contact with her intensely. 
“I don’t think anyone was upset, no! I mean, you know Jeongguk. He was just being a smartass, as per usual,” Y/N put both of her hands on Taehyung’s shoulders, brushing off imaginary dust in an attempt to relax his tensed muscles. “They turned out beautifully. I love them, Tae.”
“Do you want to bring these copies home? The club leader said I could take them,” Taehyung asked shyly, apparently convinced by her words of encouragement. 
“Absolutely. I’m going to hang them up as soon as we get them back home,” Y/N replied cheerily, squeezing his shoulders for emphasis. Home. Their home. 
Taehyung then grinned, wide and splitting his breathtaking face in two, Y/N sliding one of her hands from his shoulder to his forehead, brushing his curls out of his eyes, going as far as tucking it back so his entire forehead was exposed. Taehyung eagerly leaned into the touch, and Y/N imagined if his tail was long like some of the other hybrid’s, it would be wagging back and forth happily. 
“Ah, I’m excited to go home now. It’s too crowded in here,” Taehyung spoke with his eyes shut, cheek smushed into Y/N’s palm. 
“Oh yeah?” 
“Mm-hmm. Can we go now?”
Y/N rocked upwards as much as her high-heels could allow, placing a gentle kiss on Taehyung’s cheek that she wasn’t cradling in her palm, pulling away swiftly with a goofy grin. In the wake of the kiss, left behind was Taehyung gawking, and a stamp of berry-colored lip gloss in the shape of her lips on his cheek. 
“Help me get these down from the wall, and we’ll head home, okay Tae?”
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“Wait. The painfully shy one, the bear, is okay with a bunch of us coming over on his birthday? We can always postpone, make it a New Year’s party instead,” Alice, over Facetime with a sheet mask over her face disguising her utter disbelief, squawked. 
“I mean, that was my suggestion to him, too. Obviously everyone is busy on Christmas Eve– Ben and Roy with Daisy, and obviously you with little Kai, Laura,” Y/N had her phone propped up on a sack of flour in the kitchen, the morning of December 23rd, on her weekly 3-way call with the Santos twins. “But he was the one who insisted everyone come over on the 30th. I almost keeled over.”
“He must be getting more comfortable around everyone, Y/N! That’s really great, I’m happy for him,” Laura exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she wrote something down in her day planner– probably organizing talking points for her next family vlog. 
“It’s either that, or he’s too considerate. I mean, ever since his photography expo a week ago, it’s been non-stop last minute gift shopping, wrapping, decorating, and baking. I think if I were hosting a party tomorrow, I’d go insane.”
“Aw, so he probably noticed you’ve got a lot going on. He’s a sweetheart, huh?” Alice cooed, Y/N clapping excess flour off of her hands as she nodded in agreement. She was elbow-deep in gingerbread at the moment, and she was pretty sure she had flour in places that were unspeakable. 
“You guys have your tree up already, right? Namjoon and Jeongguk helped me drag the box with ours in it last week. Let me tell you, it’s so much easier to have two 170-pound men help you lug that thing up from the basement rather than my two possibly anemic cousins,” Y/N snorted, recalling how easily the wolf and elk hybrids carried the comically ginormous box containing the fake Christmas tree up the basement stairs. 
“Are you trying to brag right now?” Alice accused, her eyebrow visibly cocked even under the facemask that covered her expression. “We get it. They’re hunky.”
“Shhh! Alice!” Laura hissed with embarrassment while looking up from her planner, Y/N simply waving her hand in the air at the comment. 
“Don’t sweat it, Laura. Everyone’s out. My mom took them Christmas shopping in her minivan about an hour ago,” Y/N airly chuckled, the mental image of her mother shepherding each of her boys into a crumpled little van that morning to take them to the local mall. For what, she could hardly guess. 
“You’re lucky your mom is obsessed with hybrids,” Alice said, going back to applying red varnish on her nails. 
“I’m lucky that she got them out of my hair long enough to wrap the stockpile of gifts I have hidden in the fucking attic,” Y/N countered, blowing hair out of her face as she slid the last sheet of gingerbread into the oven. “I love them, but my god. Up my ass like a window shade lately.”
“It’s because you’ve been sneaking around with gifts like the goddamn Grinch! What, did you need a crowbar to pry open the attic door? Did you find the ghost of Paul Revere up there?” Alice exclaimed, as if the reason for the hybrid’s increased clinginess was due to her making excuses to go up to the attic through Seokjin’s room routinely. 
“That would be sick, actually. It is fucking creepy up there, though. I might get Jeongguk to help me sort through all of the junk up there in the spring, just in case there’s a demon hiding in my grandmother’s old hat collection,” Y/N relished in the sound of Laura’s lilting laugh, something she found she missed more than anything those days. “So, what is Santa bringing for Kai, Laur?”
“Oh, Santa is bringing him one of those plastic play-kitchens. You know, with the fake food and little bowls and whatnot. A tricycle, too, which I fear might mark up my floors until Tyler can bring him outside in the spring to ride it around the block,” Laura played along, toying with one of the braids skimming her collar bones. “He’s going to be three next year, so no more rattles…”
“My little nephew!” Alice pouted pitifully, pretending to blink away tears at the camera. “He’s growing so fast, soon Auntie Alice will be taking him for his first driving lesson.”
“Dear god, anyone but you,” Laura scoffed, looking horrified. “Love you, Al, but you’re not the first person I’d pick to show him how to parallel park.”
The girls continued to chat for 10 more minutes, until Y/N pulled the last batch of gingerbread men out of the oven and set them on a cooling rack. It was about time for her to tackle wrapping the rest of the boy’s presents and stick them under the tree before they returned from the mall with her mother. After shooting off a few texts to people she wanted to have over for the Christmas party/Taehyung’s birthday, Y/N began shuffling back and forth between the attic and the wrapping station she had set up in the parlor, quickly beginning to sweat between the flannel of her festive pajamas and the blazing fire in the room she was wrapping gifts in. 
There was no way to tell how much time had passed, as Y/N had papercut-raw fingertips and at least 35 gifts under the tree, and her Christmas playlist had looped three times. As it was approaching evening, and it was the holidays, after all, Y/N poured herself a glass of wine before she started tackling the stockings that were hanging over the mantle, all crowded together. Her mother had graciously dropped stockings off for her and the hybrids that morning, each with crocheted names on the fabric. 
Y/N wasn’t used to being away from all of the boys at once, for that long, since she adopted them. Usually, there was always one or two of them hanging around at home with her, even if the rest were at a club. At first, she was a tad relieved to have some time to talk to her friends freely over the phone, be as klutzy as she wanted without one of them flipping their lids, or even getting control of the wireless speaker; but as evening had the the house growing darker and quieter, she felt it was time to give her mother a call for her ETA with the boys. 
While she was dropping little knick-knacks into Jimin’s stocking, the cellphone balanced between her cheek and shoulder beeped morosely– her mother sent her directly to voicemail. Cursing, she continued to fill up the stockings, trying a different number. 
“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Yoongi’s voice came through the receiver, though the lovely melody of it was muffled by commotion all around him. Even through the phone, she could hear Hoseok’s loud voice, and the rushing noises of a car speeding down the highway. 
“Nothing’s wrong, angel, just wondering when you’ll be back. My mom wasn’t picking up,” Y/N smirked, heart feeling full that she could detect concern in his tone. 
“W-we, uh, okay, oh! Um, hold on, Y/N,” Yoongi fumbled with his phone, Y/N cringing as she listened to the commotion on the other end of the line. 
“Honey? Sorry, my phone died fifteen minutes ago,” her mother’s voice suddenly replaced Yoongi’s, and Y/N had no doubt that she had stolen his phone from him. “We’re on our way back now. You better lock yourself in your room though, the boys have some wrapping to do.” 
“What do you mean? I thought you were getting gifts for them,” Y/N stilled, elbow-deep in Namjoon’s stocking, dropping the Barnes and Noble gift card into the garment with shock. 
“I finished shopping for them weeks ago, honey. I’ll drop their gifts off tomorrow. Jesus, honey, I gotta focus, okay? I hate driving at night,” Y/N could hear someone honking at her mother, who typically drove like a geriatric hospital patient. “Go hide in your room. Namjoon says he has a house key, so don’t leave the door unlocked or anything!”
“Wait, mom–” Y/N cursed when her mother hung up on her promptly, hurriedly placing the last few items into Namjoon’s stocking. “Oh, my poor boys… been with that loon all day…”
Swallowing a large mouthful of wine, Y/N blinked at the stockings hanging over the fireplace, the thirty second phone call finally sinking in. If her mother didn’t take the hybrids to the mall to pick things out for themselves, did that mean they were shopping for her? Squeaking, Y/N snatched up her bottle of wine and scrambled to her bedroom, giving the parlor a cursory glance to make sure she had stacked all of the gifts under the tree properly. 
It only took fifteen minutes after the phone call for Y/N to hear car doors slamming from her spot on her bed, drinking her wine straight from the bottle like a cavewoman. All she wanted was to greet them at the door, feel Seokjin squeeze her tight, hear Namjoon diligently hanging the house keys back up on the wall hook, and listen to Hoseok chatter about his day without her. 
She strained her ears, hearing someone shove the key into the door and slide the deadbolt back, before absolute chaos echoed throughout the house. Seven different voices, all at once, filing into the foyer, the sound of shoes being kicked off and plastic bags crinkling against one another. Already, Y/N could hear Namjoon calling out orders on where to put everything, and she thought she heard him ask the room if anyone knew how to wrap. Snickering into her hand, Y/N took another swig of her wine, footsteps growing softer as they all headed into the parlor. 
“Christ almighty,” Y/N sighed, praying that no one would cheat and peek into their stockings. Her eyes snapped open when she heard a knock on her bedroom door. 
“Coming,” Y/N jumped up from bed, bumping her hip sharply into one of her bedposts, swearing quietly. “Fuck me.”
Cracking the door open, she almost immediately, and embarrassingly, melted on the spot, Yoongi’s cold-flushed face appearing in front of her. 
“Hi,” she greeted shyly, opening the door a bit wider so he could lean on the doorframe. He was still wearing his dark blue puffer jacket, a fond smile on his lips. “Missed you.”
In the couple of weeks her and Yoongi’s relationship had… changed, the two of them hadn’t had too much alone time. In fact, the previous Friday, she couldn’t even have her weekly piano lesson with him, as she had got called into work when her boss fell ill– so Y/N had to deal with secret longing glances and the ‘normal’ amount of cuddling and affection around everyone else in order to avoid suspicion. Y/N had no idea when she would even be able to have a conversation with Yoongi about how to break the news to the other hybrids. All she knew was it was near-torture to not be able to kiss him whenever she wanted, to scream from the roof that she loved him. 
“Did you?” Yoongi raised an eyebrow, teasing light dancing in his beautiful hazel eyes, Y/N offering him a sardonic grin. 
“Don’t be a dick. You know I did,” Y/N whispered, desperate to retain some privacy. Hopefully, with her Christmas playlist still booming and looping in the parlor, along with what sounded like Seokjin and Hoseok loudly bickering, that their moment would go unnoticed. “How was it today? You guys didn’t buy me stuff, did you?”
Yoongi scoffed, totally affronted, all while tucking a loose strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear tenderly. The contact had her shivering like she was standing out in the cold in her underwear. 
“Who else would we get gifts for, silly girl? Each other? Please,” Yoongi cocked his head, likely noticing how Y/N was inching closer and closer to his warmth. “I noticed all of those boxes under the tree. What, you’re allowed to get us stuff, but not the other way around?”
“Stop pissing me off. I’ve barely gotten to talk to you alone in two weeks,” Y/N huffed, ready to close the door in his face at that point, no matter how much she wanted to squeeze him until he couldn’t breathe. 
Yoongi chuckled, tucking his hands into his jacket pocket lazily. Though he appeared nonchalant, his expression was soft in ways that had her heart aching. 
“I’ll come and get you when everyone’s done wrapping. Seokjin wouldn’t shut up about watching Christmas movies with you all day,” Yoongi said, Y/N feeling her cheeks heat up at the mental image of her seven boys tying bows around things that they picked out for her. “Oh. We brought home some food from that Indian restaurant by the mall for dinner, too.”
“Ooh, I love that place. We’ll eat while we watch the movies, after you’re all done,” Y/N couldn’t help but pout a little knowing that their alone time was nearly up, already light on the balls of her feet to collapse back onto her bed until he came back to fetch her. “Okay. I won’t keep you, then, angel.”
Before she could turn, Yoongi grabbed her by the waist, a sexy, deadly purr rumbling from his chest as he glanced down at her through his eyelashes. Heart hammering, she found herself frozen in time, completely under his spell. 
“Hold on, baby,” Yoongi warned softly, his fingertips scorching even over the fabric of her flimsy cotton pajamas. “Gimme a kiss first.”
Though his voice was gentle, his statement was a demand, not a request, and Y/N had no qualms giving him what he desired. Besides– it’s what she wanted more than anything, as well. Wanting to wipe the expectant look off of his face, she stepped even closer to Yoongi, looping her arms around his neck.
Easily, she leaned her body weight onto the leopard hybrid, melding their chests together without prompting, watching his eyes flutter shut and lips part slightly in anticipation. Not even caring if anyone else could walk by at any moment, Y/N decided to tease Yoongi a little, giving the tip of his nose a kiss and pretending to pull away. Quietly growling, Yoongi tightened his hold on Y/N’s waist, taking matters into his own hands by slotting his lips against hers, Y/N releasing a sigh she hadn’t realized she was holding onto. 
The kiss was chaste, for the most part, void of the desperate passion from two weeks ago, after their confession. Yoongi hummed into her mouth, thumbs rubbing circles into waist, Y/N feeling like she was free-falling as he held her. Y/N wanted more, pressing herself closer to him until they were completely flush, Yoongi grunting as her hips collided with his. 
“Mmph– easy, baby,” Yoongi groaned quietly, rearing his head backwards so Y/N couldn’t plant another kiss on his mouth. “Don’t wanna get caught, do you?”
“I don’t care,” Y/N whined, tugging the ends of Yoongi’s hair at the nape of his neck, making him shiver and shake his head. 
“Yes you do, sweetheart,” Yoongi countered, removing both of her hands from around his neck, though pressing a kiss to each of her palms before releasing her wrists. “As much as I’d like to indulge you in your earlier request, now’s not the time.”
“What are you talking about, earlier request–” Y/N began, before Hoseok was loudly calling for Yoongi from the kitchen, making her spring apart from Yoongi like he shocked her with a wire. 
“I’ll come get you in a bit, sit tight, okay?” Yoongi gave her waist a quick squeeze, winking, before setting off down the hall before she could catch him by his coat, his tail curling behind him languidly. 
In a daze, Y/N shut her bedroom door, stiffly perching on the end of her bed and taking a deep swing from the bottle of wine she left on the floor prior to Yoongi’s interruption. It was several moments later when it dawned on her– the “earlier request”– when she bumped her hip against her bedpost, she exclaimed “Fuck me”. 
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Christmas morning, Y/N miraculously woke up without a hangover, despite the amount of cocktails she had during the Christmas Eve movie marathon she had with the hybrids. In fact, she jumped out of bed like there were ants in her pajama pants, eager to get a head start on everything she had planned for that morning. After freshening up, she headed straight for the hallway, only stopping to peer into Namjoon’s room– the wolf hybrid wasn’t in there, though. She found him, along with Seokjin, in the kitchen already, both still in their pajamas and fixing up their morning cup of coffee. 
“Morning, you two! Merry Christmas,” Y/N made her way to the refrigerator, taking out the sheet of French toast she had soaking in custard overnight. “Oh, you preheated the oven for me, Seokjinnie? Thank you!”
Seokjin hovered behind her while she slid the sheet into the oven, Y/N feeling his body heat as she straightened up, no doubt waiting for a hug, as he always did every single morning. Before she could turn to do so, she squeaked, feeling Seokjin wrap his arms around her middle and rest his chin on her shoulder, tail curling around her thigh. Apparently, he wasn’t keen on waiting that morning. 
“Oof– gentle, Seokjin, I’m not going anywhere,” Y/N giggled, ticklish where he was nudging the tip of his nose against the side of her neck affectionately. 
“When do you think Foxy is going to drag his carcass up from the basement?” Yoongi strolled into the kitchen, going right to the coffee bar and taking two mugs out of the cabinet, dutifully making a cup for himself and Y/N. “I think between him and Jeongguk, they drank an entire handle of Tito’s.”
“If he’s not up before breakfast is ready, I’ll go down there and get him. He’ll be pissed if he doesn’t get any bacon,” Y/N shuffled around the kitchen island awkwardly with Seokjin still clinging to her back, his purring growing louder and louder as she smoothed her hands up and down his forearms clasped around her middle. “Speaking of, did you wanna make the bacon, Seokjin?”
With that, the jaguar hybrid finally broke away from her, and Y/N accepted her mug of coffee from Yoongi so she could sit beside Namjoon at the breakfast nook. The wolf hybrid said nothing as she scooched close to him, practically reading over his shoulder, furrowing her eyebrows at the book he was reading. 
“Is that Latin, Joonie? What are you reading? I didn’t know you could speak Latin,” Y/N rapid-fired, Namjoon patiently putting his book down so he could answer her questions. 
“I don’t speak Latin, actually. This is Jeongguk’s, he asked me to take it out of the library from him. He can speak Latin, apparently… I was just leafing through,” Namjoon pushed the book towards Y/N so she could check it out, the cover ancient looking. It appeared to be some kind of book of prayers. 
“How the hell did he learn Latin? It’s not like they teach hybrids how to speak a dead language in the labs when they’re kids,” Yoongi commented, giving Jimin a nod as the coyote hybrid came into the room. 
“I just picked up a book and figured it out, asshole,” Jeongguk was right behind Jimin, apparently, shooting Yoongi a dirty look. 
“Let’s not bicker on Christmas, okay? Chill out,” Y/N frowned, Jimin mirroring her disapproval from across the room. “We’re just waiting on Tae and Hoseok, right?”
“I’ll get Hoseok,” Seokjin volunteered, placing the tongs he was using to flip over pieces of bacon in the skillet off to the side, disappearing from the room before Y/N could protest. 
“Taehyung’s up. I heard his shower going,” Yoongi remarked, taking out plates for the food. 
“I can’t wait for you guys to open your gifts!” Y/N squirmed in her seat, inadvertently wiggling further into Namjoon’s space. The wolf hybrid simply remained still, allowing her to snuggle up to his side as much as she wanted. “I’m excited to see what my mom got you all too. Hopefully nothing crazy… like goats or any other kind of barnyard animal.”
“Ooh, but then we could try goat yoga, Y/N darling!” Hoseok made his grand entrance into the kitchen, looking a little disheveled with his wavy hair sticking up in multiple directions, but grinning nonetheless. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“Yeah, it would be fun to shovel goat shit or get gored to death by Black Phillip, too,” Jeongguk drawled, already stacking bacon onto his plate with a grimace. 
“Party pooper,” Hoseok muttered, grabbing a plate for himself and sticking his tongue out at Jeongguk while the elk hybrid has his back to him. 
Tae silently entered the room, taking up her free side on the booth, waiting for Yoongi to come around with the sheet of French toast, Y/N giving him a hair ruffle when he told her “Merry Christmas”. 
Y/N ate as fast as she could, eager to get on with the gift-giving portion of the morning, and for once she was finished eating before any of the boys. She ditched them in the kitchen, heading straight to the parlor to light up the Christmas tree, start the fire, and switch on the TV station that was running holiday specials all day. She was in the middle of fluffing pillows on the couch when she stopped to stare at all of the boxes under the tree– it would probably take them at least two hours to open everything. She could tell which ones were for her; they were all clumsily wrapped with an aggressive amount of tape, and it made her smile goofily. 
“What’s that?” Jeongguk was the first to come into the parlor, collapsing on the leather recliner and pointing at the TV with disgust. “Ugly bastard.”
“Um, the fucking Grinch? Have you never seen this movie?” Y/N gasped in disbelief, Jeongguk looking at her like really. “He’s not ugly. He’s misunderstood!”
“Y/N, please,” Jeongguk groaned, rubbing his temples like she was aggravating him. Actually, agitating Jeongguk was becoming her new favorite hobby. 
Everyone filed in shortly after Jeongguk, taking spots on the floor and couch, and after a few moments of having to describe what The Grinch was to everyone but Yoongi, all of the hybrids were staring at her expectantly. 
“Okay, to make this go faster, why don’t we all open things at once? Here, I’ll grab something for each of you…” Y/N sprung up from her spot on the couch, startling Jimin beside her enough for him to yelp. 
Y/N started off with the gifts her mother had dropped off for the hybrids, plucking up the little envelope that was for her, as well. Once she returned to her seat, she found that they were all still staring at her. 
“Well? Go ahead! Just stick the wrapping paper in one of the trash bags over there,” Y/N pointed to the black bag by the tree, praying to the sky that her mother got normal gifts for them. To hasten the process of all of them slowly peeling back paper like her mom had wrapped grenades for them, Y/N tore her envelope open with vigor. 
“Oh my god! Guys, my mom must have gotten my grandfather’s old station wagon fixed at the shop, this is the title for it!” Y/N squealed. 
“But, you already have a car,” Hoseok pointed out helpfully, the point clearly going straight over his head. 
“Yeah, I do. But if she brings over the station wagon, whoever decides to sign up for driving school will have a car to use when I’m at work or whatever!” Y/N explained, waving the title in Hoseok’s face. 
“Actually, that would be pretty helpful. You won’t have to drive us everywhere all the time,” Yoongi said, brushing a finger over his lips, his gift half-opened on his lap. 
Taehyung, beside her, was the first to resume opening his gift, which was a flat square-shaped package. Y/N had a suspicion that it was a record, which was confirmed when he tore off the last of the paper. It was a vintage jazz record, an artist she didn’t know of, but Taehyung certainly did. It appeared that the record was signed, additionally, which had Taehyung’s cheeks turning a bright shade of pink in excitement. 
Y/N was content to simply watch them all tear into the gifts, soaking in every little expression, ear flicker, and surprised sounds. Namjoon received a first-edition version of one of his favorite books, Yoongi opened a little velvet box containing a silver chain that mimicked the one he wore for his Scarface costume on Halloween, and Hoseok got a new pair of running shoes, flamboyantly colored. For Jimin, it looked like her father had picked out a special edition of the coyote hybrid’s favorite whiskey, Seokjin got a woven silver ring that went with the watch he had gotten for his birthday, and perhaps her favorite gift one of them had received so far– Jeongguk opened up a brass cigarette case, the whole room dissolving into laughter at the bewilderment on his face. 
“To be fair, sweets, you’re about as subtle as a gun with your smoke breaks,” Y/N managed through laughter, watching him turn the case around in his hands. 
“Actually, this is pretty nice. I think it’s an antique,” Jeongguk ignored the fact that he was being laughed at, pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pajama pockets and beginning to fill up the case with Marlboros. 
“Knowing my mom, it probably is an antique,” Y/N agreed, getting up again to pass out the next round of gifts. Clothes, mostly, all in each of their unique styles, now that she was familiar with them. She could recall that time, many months ago, when she ordered clothes for all of them without even really knowing what most of them looked like, let alone their style preferences. 
There were a few more personal items she got for each hybrid; such as an Ikea bookshelf (that she’d likely have to put together herself) for Namjoon and his growing book collection and a brand-new bookbag, a nice yoga mat and a Hypervolt for Hoseok, and a big plushie of an alpaca was given to Seokjin, one that he had gushed over at the mall once when Y/N took him for his last haircut. 
Y/N was so enthused, clipping the thin gold chain she had gotten for Taehyung around his throat happily, that she totally forgot about their gifts to her, which remained untouched under a sea of ripped paper beneath the tree. 
“How do those shoes fit, Hoseok? Right size?” Y/N called over Taehyung’s shoulder, securing his necklace and making sure the clasp was in the back. Hoseok was flexing and pointing his feet, tail wagging in a pleased manner as he admired his new sneakers. 
“They’re perfect!” Hoseok gave her an animated thumbs-up, before realization dawned across his face. “Hey, you haven’t opened anything! Jinnie, grab our gift from under the tree!”
Suddenly feeling embarrassed, Y/N accepted a lumpy package from Seokjin, who looked eager and excited, the stuffed alpaca still tucked under his arm. Y/N didn’t think he’d be letting it go anytime soon. 
“This is from the two of you?” Y/N asked meekly, aware of all the eyes on her, even if half of the room was occupied checking out some of their new possessions. 
“Mm-hmm! Picked it out together!” Hoseok relaxed in the chair he was sitting sideways on, his legs dangling over the armrest. 
Y/N tore into the paper, and she knew immediately why the package was so lumpy– they had wrapped an article of clothing without it being in a box, making her chuckle softly. Her fingertips brushed over material that felt like a cloud, and when she stripped the last of the paper away, she held up the jacket the two hybrids picked out for her. 
Made of sherpa, and baby pink in color, the jacket was so soft to the touch that she had to resist pressing her face into it. There was a pink heart embroidered on it, right over where her actual heart would be, and it had enormous pockets that could definitely handle her shoving her mitten-covered hands in. It was adorable, not something that she would have picked herself, but she absolutely loved it. 
“This is so cute, guys! I love it, it’ll be perfect for all the cold weather we have coming our way,” Y/N unzipped the jacket, shrugging it on and relishing the way the sherpa felt on her skin. She reached for Seokjin’s hand beside her, giving it a squeeze and a tiny kiss on his knuckles, blowing one dramatically to Hoseok, as well. 
“I liked the color, and Jinnie wanted to get you something to keep you warm, since you’re pretty bad at that,” Hoseok explained, a low, embarrassed growl coming from Seokjin. 
“I love it,” Y/N repeated. I love you. “Thank you, you two!”
“Okay, me next!” Jimin announced, retrieving his– immaculately wrapped– gift for her. 
Jimin got her a perfume that she had been eyeing on the Fragrantica website for weeks, as well as a book she had mentioned wanting to read by a local author, signed. Next was Taehyung and Yoongi’s gift, Y/N stunned that they actually got a joint gift that they agreed on, and it was her very own set of sheet music notebook, bound in leather, as well as a new pair of noise-canceling headphones in her favorite color. Jeongguk, sheepishly, handed her a little gift bag, the contents being a handful of crystals, a pack of hand-dipped incense, and a set of spell chime candles. 
“You guys are too good to me, seriously. Look at all this stuff! Thank you,” Y/N felt herself get a little choked up, even though the parlor was a mess with cardboard, torn paper, and tissue paper, all she could think about was the amount of thought and care that went into each of them picking out gifts for her. She made her rounds in the room, giving each of them a death-squeeze, even Jeongguk, who grumbled the entire time her arms were wrapped around his neck. 
“Y/N, we still need to watch Elf, remember?” Hoseok reminded her over by the bar cart, still wearing his new sneakers and in the middle of making Christmas cocktails for everyone. 
“I remember! I’ll put it on in a minute, okay? I’m just going to give my parents a call and I’ll be right back,” Y/N poked Hoseok on the cheek as she walked by him, on her way to the foyer so she could make her phone call. 
Escaping the blazing heat of the parlor, Y/N felt her cheeks begin to ache from how long she was grinning like a fool. She was halfway through her phone passcode in the hallway before she felt a tap on her shoulder, Y/N spinning around in confusion. 
“Joonie! What’s up?” Y/N cocked her head, noting that his ears were pressed flat against his skull, like he was embarrassed. 
“I… uh. I didn’t give you your gift yet,” Namjoon said awkwardly, pulling a long rectangular box out of his hoodie pocket and offering it to her. Y/N was so caught up with all of the excitement that morning that she didn’t even register that Namjoon hadn’t given her anything. “Here.”
“Oh, Joonie, you shouldn’t–”
“Yes, I should have. Open it, if you don’t like it, I’ll get something else… I’ve never really picked out anything like this for somebody before. So…” Y/N placed her hand on Namjoon’s upper arm to prevent him from babbling further, his lips slamming shut and ears perking up somewhat. 
Beneath the wrapping paper was a velvet box, Y/N biting down on her lip as she pried the lid open, a sharp gasp tearing from her chest as she saw what was nestled within the box. It was a necklace– a choker, judging by the length of it– entirely made up of tiny gems, perhaps cubic zirconia, and in the center of the necklace was a blood-red gem cut in the shape of a heart, delicate and small like the rest of the gems making up the piece. While gawking at the choker, she heard Namjoon nervously shuffling from foot to foot in front of her, Y/N swallowing thickly in order to lubricate her now bone-dry esophagus. 
“Joon… this is beautiful,” was all Y/N could manage, her voice breaking a little. Namjoon, even with his rough edges, had a profound sentimental side to him that Y/N only saw once in a while, and when he’d reveal it to her, she cherished every second. 
“You like it?” Namjoon’s voice came out in a rush, like he was holding his breath, the orange-amber color of his eyes practically sparkling. “You’re not just saying that, right?”
“You’d know if I was lying,” Y/N retorted, running her pointer finger over the necklace in admiration, heart beating wildly. 
“Do you…” Namjoon cleared his throat, gently taking the box from her grasp, taking a step closer to her. “Want to try it on? I’ll clasp it for you.”
Some questions didn’t require responses. Y/N wordlessly turned, gathering her hair in one hand to move it out of the way, waiting for the wolf hybrid to make the first move. Thankfully, he caught on keenly, Y/N shutting her eyes as she listened to Namjoon move behind her. Miraculously, she didn’t make a sound when he draped the necklace around her throat even though the gems chilled her feverish flesh, instead, Y/N focused on Namjoon’s scent. Without fail, the honeyed musk scent of his body wash had her completely relaxing into the moment, humming contentedly as Namjoon’s fingertips brushed against the sensitive skin of the nape of her neck. Distantly, she knew that she was perhaps being obvious, but Namjoon didn’t seem to notice as he deftly fastened the choker into place. 
“Let me see,” Namjoon requested, using two fingers to tap the side of her neck. 
Doing a goofy twirl, Y/N faced the wolf hybrid again, grabbing onto his hands for balance without a second thought. He didn’t drop his hold on her once she was still, his eyes dropping from her face to the choker around her throat. 
“Pretty,” was all Namjoon said, freeing one of Y/N’s hands so he could adjust the necklace, making sure the little red heart rested in the dip of her collar bones. “Suits you.”
“I love it, Joonie. Thank you,” Y/N shivered due to how close Namjoon had gotten to her. Unable to help herself, Y/N opened her arms, yanking the wolf hybrid into an embrace, Namjoon going stiff before tentatively hugging her back, Y/N wondering if he could hear her thundering heartbeat. “My Joon bug, you’re so sweet.”
Namjoon made a noise of embarrassment, but with her cheek pressed to his chest, she could feel his heartbeat galloping just like hers. 
“Here, come with me while I make my call. I bet my mom would like to say hello to you,” Y/N, sadly, let Namjoon go, tangling her hand in the hem of his forest green henley, dragging him in the direction of her bedroom. Namjoon didn’t protest, letting her tow him along with a hidden smile on his face. 
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“Where’s the birthday boy?” Alice sang, bustling through the front door with a large Christmas gift bag hanging off of one elbow, a platter of sugar cookies tucked balanced on her other arm. “And my little fox hybrid!”
“Hi, Al,” Y/N kissed her friend’s cheek, already a little flustered from chasing Daisy around the house with Jimin. “Let me take the cookies. Tae’s in the kitchen, so is Hoseok.”
“Laura’s already here, right?” 
“Showed up at the same time as Ben and Roy!” Y/N helped Alice out of her coat, hanging it up in the closet that was nearly bursting with the amount of garments stuffed in there. “Jesus. There must be 26 coats in here. And 8 of them belong to Seokjin.”
“Oh, he’s such a cutie. Not a fan of the cold, right?” Alice followed Y/N to the kitchen, straightening out her sweater as she walked. Before they could get there, however, Alice stopped her with a poke on the shoulder, expression becoming serious. “How are things? You know, with… Yoongi?’
Alice whispered so softly, Y/N had to practically press her ear to her friend’s mouth, and once she registered what she was asking, Y/N was grateful the house was full of loud voices and music at that moment. 
“Um, I’ll give you a call next time I go to work and tell you everything,” Y/N hoped that Alice would get the hint, giving her a beseeching look. “But we’re good, don’t worry about me. We’re still figuring things out, but we’re not on the outs anymore.”
Alice seemed to digest this information slowly, as if she didn’t quite believe Y/N, but let it go and continued to follow Y/N, leaning into her side as she walked. 
“Fine, but I want details. Excruciating details. You promised,” Alice whisper-shouted, her face brightening once she spotted her twin sister in the kitchen, who was mingling with Roy and Jimin.
“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Y/N brushed her off, feeling embarrassed. In the kitchen, all of her Christmas decorations were still up and an obscene amount of food on the island, mostly charcuterie boards she and Yoongi spent a large part of the day preparing. “Get some food before you try one of those cocktails Hoseok made. They’re pretty stiff.”
“Alice is here!” As if he was summoned, Hoseok strolled over, two fresh cocktails in his hands, offering the two girls the glasses with his stunning smile. “How’ve you been, darling? Been writing your new book?”
Alice turned on her coy smirk, using her free arm to give Hoseok a side-hug, pecking his cheek like Y/N had done to her when she arrived. Lifting an eyebrow but holding her tongue, she watched Hoseok’s smile grow even wider, smugly. 
“Yeah, I’ve just finished the rough draft. It’s been a blast to write, totally different from what I usually do,” Alice took an over-confident sip of her cocktail, and Y/N tried her best to hold back her laughter when Alice immediately coughed at the taste of it. “Christ, Foxy, what is this, jungle juice?”
“Something adjacent to jungle juice, yes,” Hoseok chuckled, reaching out to take the gift bag Alice was still carrying, placing it on the coffee bar where several bags from other guests were– birthday gifts for Taehyung. 
“Tastes like you made it in the goddamn sink,” Alice muttered, all while taking another sip. 
Snorting, Y/N was about to mention that Hoseok originally wanted to make it in the sink, but she heard her name being called, so she hastily excused herself, searching for the source of the voice amongst the crowded kitchen. 
“Honey! In here,” Y/N discovered that it was her mother calling her from the dining room, frantically motioning for her to join her, Y/N hoping she wasn’t about to tell her she had some kind of disturbing vision again. 
“What’s going on? There aren’t even any lights on in here, why are you lurking in the dark like this?” Y/N asked, growing more suspicious by the second. 
“I wanted to ask you if you finished working on Taehyung’s gift,” her mother, though originally a little wary of Taehyung after her vision about him many months ago, had warmed up to him by then. She had the feeling it was due to how sweet and affectionate Taehyung was around Y/N, and the fact that Y/N was so completely comfortable with him. 
“Of course I did. I worked on it whenever he was at the rec center! It’s all set up for later,” Y/N replied, a little ticked that she was pulled away from the party just to get interrogated about her work ethic. 
“Good, good. He looks happy! Not as shy as he once was,” her mother commented blithely, making Y/N hum. 
“I think the club had something to do with that,” Y/N started to drag her mother back into the kitchen, eager to get back to her friends and make sure there weren’t any shenanigans going on. “Did you see the portraits he took of us hung up on the stairwell?”
Y/N was able to deliver her mother to Ben, who was more than willing to keep her occupied by telling her about Daisy’s newfound interest in painting, and Y/N breathed a sigh of relief when she was able to find her hideous-tasting cocktail waiting for her on the island. She was mid-bite of a particularly juicy chocolate covered strawberry when she spotted Taehyung, who was by the fridge, chatting with Yoongi. Both of them were dressed in clothes she had gotten the two of them for Christmas, and it made her very happy that Taehyung had allowed himself to get closer to Yoongi, especially in recent weeks. 
Downing the rest of her drink, she rounded the island as best she could, giving Jeongguk a playful flick on the back of his head as she passed by him, an unlit cigarette between his lips as he was heading towards the slider to the backyard. He rolled his eyes, patting the top of her head condescendingly before he vanished, Y/N approaching Taehyung and Yoongi. 
“Hi, having fun?” Y/N greeted them, Taehyung nodded, leaning against the fridge with a content look. “Good idea for having a bunch of charcuterie boards, Tae.” 
“You got a little,” Tae motioned around his mouth area like she had something on her face, but before she could use her cocktail napkin to wipe her face sheepishly, Yoongi set down his glass of wine.
 Tongue peeking out to dampen his thumb, he got rid of smudge of chocolate on the corner of her mouth, popping the digit into his mouth without so much as a second thought, Y/N staring at him like he lost his fucking mind. 
“Got it,” Yoongi picked his wine glass back up, licking his lips with a devilish grin, Taehyung simply watching the scene unfold in front of him with boredom. 
“Whoa, my grandma used to do that to me during Sunday dinners,” Ben interrupted, Taehyung stepping aside so her friend could access the freezer for more ice. “Hey, Yoongi. I was wondering if I could ask you something.”
Y/N froze, jumping to the conclusion that Ben would confront the leopard hybrid after the brunch she had with him a couple of weeks ago, though that was hardly within his nature. Though protective of her, Ben wasn’t one to throw her under the bus, and Y/N had to quickly compose herself so none of her hybrids would catch the scent of alarm on her. Yoongi, unperturbed, regarded Ben with a lazy flicker of one of his spotted ears. 
“Go ahead,” Yoongi enunciated slowly, the only indication that he was as wary as Y/N. 
“You can say no, of course, but Y/N mentioned that you were teaching her how to play piano. I was wondering, if you had time during the week, if you could stop by and give Daisy some lessons? We’ll pay you for your time, naturally,” Ben proposed, Y/N nearly fainting with relief. 
“Oh, uh… yeah, I’d have time for that. I’m only at the rec center three times a week in the evenings. Do Monday afternoons work?” Yoongi’s eyebrows shot into his hairline, apparently taken aback. 
“Works for us! Here, come with me, we gotta tell Roy. He’s been wanting to sign her up for lessons for weeks, he has a bunch of questions…” Ben held his hand out, beckoning for Yoongi to follow him into the parlor where his fiance was entertaining Daisy with Jimin. 
Y/N saw that as an opportunity to steal Taehyung away from the party, grabbing his hand lightly. He didn’t protest, or even ask why she was leading him towards the staircase, but he clung to her side as if he could sense her growing anticipation. 
“Where are we going?” Taehyung finally asked curiously, taking steps two at a time to keep up with Y/N’s jog upstairs. 
“I wanna show you your gift!” Y/N breathed with effort after scaling the staircase, leading the Kodiak hybrid down the hall to what was once a large, unused walk-in closet of sorts, perhaps for linens back in the home’s heyday. Y/N used an old key she had stashed in her pocket to unlock the old door, feeling Taehyung looming behind her and breathing down her neck. 
Y/N fumbled for the lightswitch, stepping to the side and making a “ta-da!” gesture, Taehyung peering into the closet with rapt interest. 
Y/N had totally renovated the closet into a darkroom for Taehyung to develop photos in the home when he couldn’t access the rec center. She had begun doing a little research a months ago about how to DIY the room, and she thought it came out pretty successfully; two counters on either side of the closet– a “wet” and “dry” section of the room, fresh coat of dark paint on the walls, second-hand equipment she found on the internet, and the entire space lit with special low-light red bulbs. 
“What do you think! Pretty cool, right?” Y/N gushed, waltzing into the small room and pointing at the clothesline she had fastened to the walls so the Kodiak hybrid could hang his prints up to dry. “It’s like a home office for you, only a couple of doors down from your bedroom!”
“Y/N, you did this yourself?” Taehyung’s face had totally dissolved into shock, taking a shaky step into the dark room with large, rounded eyes. “It looks like the one in the rec center…”
“I had to do some research, but it was a blast to set up. Even if it was a challenge to work on it and keep it a secret from you, locking it up at night, hiding cans of paint… but I hope you like it!”
Taehyung looked around with glee, fingertips brushing over the newly installed countertops, Y/N perching herself on the chair she placed in the corner, admiring how diligently he checked everything out. The sleeves of his vintage sweater had slipped over his wrists again, Taehyung hastily pushing them up over his elbows so he could pick up one of the old cameras Y/N had dug out of the basement to give him. 
“You… Really like to go above and beyond, huh?” Taehyung surprised Y/N by making a teasing remark, spinning on his heel and taking a picture of her with the old camera. “Of course I like it, why wouldn’t I?” 
“So you’re teasing me now, too? Taking tips from Yoongi?” Y/N scoffed in disbelief, though something told her Taehyung didn’t quite know how to react to the situation. 
Taehyung chuckled, shaking his head, before he stalked up to Y/N on the chair and used his hands to haul her to her feet by hooking them under her armpits, crushing her in, well, a bear hug. Y/N went limp in his arms, unable to breathe but in bliss with the way he was holding her tightly, sandalwood fragrance intoxicating her. 
“Happy birthday, Tae,” Y/N murmured into his sweater, his arms tightening around her waist even more with her words. 
“We should probably go back downstairs…” Taehyung pulled away from her, the red lighting of the room bringing out his eye color more than ever before. “I think people are looking for you.”
“Curse of being the hostess,” Y/N sighed, linking her arm with his. “It’s time for cake, anyways!”
Taehyung hummed, snuggling close into her side as they began to return to their guests and the other hybrids, though as they got to the bottom step into the foyer, Taehyung bent down to whisper in Y/N’s ear. 
“Thank you, for everything.”
“Anything for you.”
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“You’re so busy these days! I miss you…” Y/N hung onto the hem of Yoongi’s thermal like a child, waiting for him to shut the soundproof doors of the music room and unable to keep the whine out of her voice. 
“You’re busy, too, sweetheart. Didn’t you say there’s something coming up for you at work in the next few weeks?” Yoongi shook off her grip on his clothing, pointing at the loveseat so they could catch up. 
It had been a week since Taehyung’s birthday, the first Friday of January, and Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she had a piano lesson with Yoongi due to their conflicting schedules. 
“Yeah, I still have to think about it. Judy has this opportunity coming up, but it wouldn’t involve just me,” Y/N collapsed onto the loveseat, making grabby hands for Yoongi to sit beside her. 
“So tell me. You don’t want to do it?” Yoongi put his arm around her, his eyes a little sleepy from his hectic week of basketball practices and traveling back and forth to Ben’s to teach Daisy. Y/N sighed, launching into a recount of her meeting with Judy the day before. 
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“Y/N, I’ve been thinking about asking you about something for a while, do you have a moment before you head home?” Judy announced vaguely, as Y/N was closing the blinds to the storefront at the end of her shift. 
“Of course,” Y/N adjusted the strap of her tote bag over her shoulder, Judy looking incredibly pleased with that answer. 
“I’m sure you’ve noticed since you started working here, people will come in every once and a while asking for help in the area of paranormal activity in their homes or places of business,” Judy began, brushing sandy curls out of her face. “I used to be able to travel to these locations and do consultations and cleansings, but not so much anymore with the growing popularity of my readings here at the shop.”
“Right,” Y/N nodded, already knowing where the conversation was heading. 
“I’ll cut to the chase. Would you be interested in taking up that responsibility? The pay would be higher, and you successfully cleansed your own home,” Judy clasped her hands in front of her, looking ever-so-hopeful. 
“I… The opportunity sounds interesting, and I’d like to say that I could commit to it, but with my hybrids at home…” Y/N already felt bad enough she had to be away from them three times a week, so the additional hours and traveling filled her with hesitance. 
“I thought of something to remedy that. You mentioned to me that you performed banishments and cleansings at your home with the help of two of your hybrids. I was thinking between the three of you, you could have somewhat of a ‘team’ that would do the consultations.”
“You mean Namjoon and Jeongguk?” Y/N blinked, taken aback. 
“Yes, the two gentlemen I met a little after Lammas,” Judy confirmed, referring to the time she had brought the hybrids to the strip mall for ice cream in August. “They’d make perfect additions. The wolf hybrid, you told me, has a wealth of knowledge for the paranormal, and your elk hybrid is experienced with exorcism.”
“I– I’d have to ask them about it,” Y/N replied weakly, knowing that Namjoon would likely pounce on the opportunity, but talking to Jeongguk could go either way. Considering Jeongguk wasn’t a part of any clubs, and Namjoon only left the house on Mondays for the book club, it would give both of them the chance to get out more. “Can I get back to you?”
“Absolutely. I should tell you, as well, you’d have total control over how the team would operate, so you’d have quite a bit of freedom. I think you’d end up preferring it over sitting in a nearly empty shop most days.”
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Y/N was shoving Yoongi by his shoulder as he belly laughed at her, his eyes scrunched up into slits. 
“Fuck you, Yoongi, stop laughing! What’s funny?” Y/N crossed her arms across her chest, waiting for him to stop gasping for breath with a frown. 
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Yoongi wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, collecting her shoulders and settling her back into his side with a kiss to her temple. “So, let me get this right. Your boss wants you to formulate a ghostbusting team with those two edgelords hotboxing that ancient van in our driveway right now?”
“It sounds fucking stupid when you say it like that, but yeah, that’s the gist of it,” Y/N snapped, though melting into Yoongi’s hold anyways. “I’ve got to talk to them over the weekend. I know Namjoon would be on board, but Jeongguk…”
Absently, Y/N’s fingertips began toying with the choker around her neck she hadn’t taken off since Namjoon fastened it there, chewing her lip. 
“I think you should do it. You got rid of whatever was on this property, remember? And you won’t have to sit behind a counter and send us memes all day out of boredom,” Yoongi squeezed her side, sobering up enough to take her seriously. 
“Okay, I’ll talk to them,” Y/N agreed, feeling better that she had Yoongi’s approval. “Um, when do you think we should…”
Yoongi knew where she was going without her having to finish her sentence. When do you think we should tell the others that we’re together?
“It needs to be up to you, sweetheart. I can handle it if they’re pissed at me, but how they’ll react to you after they find out is what concerns me,” Yoongi ran a hand through his hair, Y/N considering that. “We need to be delicate about it, I think.”
Yoongi was tip-toeing around the fact that Y/N still had to confess her feelings to the six others, which had her gritting her teeth. 
“I’ll work something out. Jesus, I feel like I’m planning a press conference,” Y/N tipped her head against the back of the couch, heaving a sigh through her nose. “I just want to be able to kiss you whenever I want.”
“Is that right?” Yoongi’s tone turned playful, dropping an octave or two. “In front of everyone?”
Feeling the mood shift, Y/N forgot all about the piano lesson she was supposed to be in the middle of, something heating up in her stomach as Yoongi smirked, looking down his nose at her. 
“You know what I mean,” Y/N whispered, electrified. 
“I do?” Yoongi’s expression turned thoughtful, his ears fluttering as Y/N curled her legs sideways on the couch so she could face him. “You think I want that, too?”
“Whatever, guess not,” Y/N attempted to look away, a tad embarrassed. She was stopped, however, by a gentle grip on her chin. 
“You want me to kiss you in front of everyone, show them what you mean to me?” 
Y/N was silent, throat parched as she read the primal possession in his feline eyes. Swallowing as best she could to lubricate her esophagus, all she could hear was a gentle ticking coming from a clock sitting beside the new record player she had gotten Taehyung for Christmas. 
“Hmm… I don’t know if you really want that,” Yoongi continued, sounding almost bored, unaffected. 
“Yoongi.”
“Sweetheart?”
“Shut up and kiss me,” Y/N growled, bracing her hands on his shoulders and leveling him with an annoyed glare. 
Yoongi stared her down, still appearing unmoved, before he took her by surprise and surged forward urgently, the grip on her chin moving to the back of her neck, yanking her into his lips, the leopard hybrid’s mouth muffling the cry she let out. 
Unlike the kiss she stole from him the day before Christmas Eve, this one was full of fire and ice, Yoongi working his mouth so intensely against her own, Y/N imagined cartoon stars floating around her head like a halo. Still a little put off by his teasing earlier, she kissed him back just as eagerly, boldly nibbling his bottom lip eliciting a feral hiss from his chest. The expulsion of air opened his mouth enough for Y/N to swipe her tongue across the flesh she had just bitten, one of her hands cupping Yoongi’s jaw to keep him in place. 
Yoongi, in retaliation, tilted his head sideways, Y/N’s mouth parting because of it, his tongue sweeping into her mouth promptly in an attempt to regain control. Y/N, at that moment, didn’t want to relinquish it quite yet. Eyes still shut, she increased the strength at which she was clutching the side of his face, using her core to swing one knee over Yoongi’s lap, settling down on his thighs and resting her free hand over his purring chest. 
All too soon, however, she needed air, breaking free from the lip lock with a thin string of saliva still connecting them, Y/N’s chest heaving as she dove in for more– this time going straight for Yoongi’s neck. The leopard hybrid grunted, his hands sliding down her body to settle heavily on her hips, the sensation of her hot mouth on the sensitive skin of his neck overwhelming. Y/N kissed below his earlobe, unable to get enough, loving the quiet sounds coming from Yoongi’s swollen lips, trailing her kisses to his clavicle, skimming the chain that was around his neck.
“Baby,” Yoongi’s strained voice came out as a feathery breath, like he was trying to control himself, and Y/N returned to his mouth, moaning softly at the way his scorching fingertips wormed their way under her tee-shirt, skimming the skin of her lower back. 
“Mm?” Y/N hummed against his mouth, getting dizzy from the way his tongue slid against hers sensually. She never wanted the moment to end, no matter how much she was sweating– and how strong the spark of arousal was between her legs. 
Adjusting her position on his lap, Yoongi went quite still when she settled more weight on top of him, one of her own hands sneaking up the front of his shirt to settle over his pounding heart indulgently. Pulling away with a warning nip to the corner of her jaw, the sharpness of his canines against her flaming skin having her gasping, Yoongi sat back with a regretful look on his face, holding onto her hips to keep her somewhat hovering over his lap. 
“Love, we can’t… not until we tell everyone else. There’s no excuse that could cover up… the scent,” Yoongi managed, eyes softening at Y/N’s desperate pout. 
“Scent?” Y/N leaned forward despite the warning, pecking his lower lip indulgently
Yoongi glanced down at their laps expectantly, Y/N getting what he was implying like a freight train hit her. 
“Oh god. That’s embarrassing,” Y/N panicked, starting to move off of his lap, when he caught her with a grunt, keeping her seated on top of her. 
“Embarrassing? It’s natural. Come on, silly girl,” Yoongi growled, tucking hair behind her ears tenderly all the while. “Still. Wait just a little longer for me, okay?”
Y/N relented, the fire slowly leaching from her veins as she nestled her head into Yoongi’s chest, hiding her moping. 
“You waited for me all this time. I’ll wait for you.”
“Cheesy,” Yoongi snickered, soothingly passing her hands up and down her back. “Why don’t we get started with the lesson? Have you been practicing?”
“Let me hold you for a bit more,” Y/N whined, nuzzling her cheek into the crook of his neck. 
Yoongi snorted, planting a kiss on the top of her head, but indulging her anyway. He always was a pushover, when it came to her. 
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Y/N was sitting in her car, half-frozen while she waited for it to heat up, staring at the phone in her hand. 
Sarah Good: Hi, Y/N! Thank you for reaching out over email about getting Hannah and Seokjin together before we move. How’s lunch at Salem’s on January 11th?
Resisting the urge to honk for Seokjin to get a move on within the house, she swallowed down nerves and adjusted her sweater dress twitchily. She had told Seokjin about the planned lunch weeks ago, and watched how excited he became as the days rolled on, and it was finally time to meet up with Sarah and Hannah. Y/N was about to send a text to Seokjin to get him to come outside when she spotted him hurrying down the icy driveway, wrapped up in a giant lavender puffer jacket. 
“Cold,” Seokjin whimpered as he climbed into the passenger seat, but retaining his merry expression. “Oh! You’re wearing the jacket!”
Indeed, Y/N had the baby pink sherpa jacket he and Hoseok had given to her for Christmas. It had become her favorite coat simply because they had gifted her, but also because seeing the delight on both of their faces when she wore it was absolutely priceless. 
“Matches my dress, see?” Y/N lifted the skirt of her pink sweater dress playfully, Seokjin definitely making sure she was wearing the skin-toned thick tights underneath it. “Don’t worry, I’m warm enough!”
Y/N threw her car into gear as soon as Seokjin was buckled in, his hand immediately seeking out hers, squeezing it eagerly. 
“So, are you excited to see her?” Y/N asked nonchalantly, after several minutes of listening to Seokjin hum along to the radio. 
“I am. I hope she’s recovered from her injuries…” Seokjin admitted, his mouth screwing up in concern. 
“I’ve been in touch with Sarah, she said that Hannah is doing wonderfully, all healed up! Sarah said there’s a great gymnastics team for hybrids in the area of New York she’s moving to that Hannah is interested in joining,” Y/N brushed her thumb over the back of Seokjin’s hand, something that he typically did whenever he thought she was stressed or nervous. 
“She’ll love that,” Seokjin replied tenderly, his legs bouncing up and down in anticipation. Y/N, despite herself, smiled empathetically, Seokjin’s concern for others rubbing off on her infectiously. 
Minutes later, they arrived at the brewery, Y/N trying to park as close to the building as she could out of Seokjin’s disdain for the frigid January temperature. 
“I don’t think they’re here yet, we’re a little early,” Y/N cleared her throat, finally able to get a good look at the jaguar hybrid beside her. He looked breathtaking, as he normally did, the pastel purple of his coat complimenting his sunset eyes, wavy hair parted off of his forehead, and smelling fresh and clean. “We can wait in here or go get a table? What do you think, honey?”
Seokjin opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by Y/N’s ringtone, which she answered quickly without checking the caller ID. 
“Y/N? It’s Sarah! We just got here, parked towards the back,” a raspy, friendly female voice came in from the receiver, Y/N blinking rapidly as she observed Seokjin flinging his door open, promptly jumping out of the Land Cruiser. 
“O-oh, we’re here too! We’ll meet you at the door!” Y/N rushed out, hanging up before she could lose track of Seokjin, who was a blur of pastel and puffer jacket dashing across the parking lot. 
Y/N hardly had the time to lock the car before chasing after the jaguar hybrid, avoiding the black ice as best she could in the midst of her scrambling. 
“Jinnie!” A melodic, high and sweet voice exclaimed, chock-full of thick feeling, called across the parking lot, Y/N nearly tripping over her own boots at the sound of it. 
Pausing, Y/N watched the scene in front of her unfold like it was a movie she was watching in a theater, Seokjin screeching to a halt, arms wide as a slight figure darted into view. It was a young woman, around Seokjin’s age, with glimmering strawberry-blonde hair and peachy cat ears with a matching tail, who without any prompting, launched herself into Seokjin’s arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as she shook with emotion. 
Seokjin caught her with graceful ease, though his knees buckled nervously as well, his hand coming up to cradle the back of her head softly. Even from a considerable distance away from him, Y/N could spot the tear running down Seokjin’s cheek, a stabbing pain striking though her chest. Ears ringing, Y/N stared at the two embracing, biting the inside of her cheek painfully when she heard Seokjin’s throaty response. 
“Hannah, I missed you.”
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Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @gooooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @7evensin @lilmxchis @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @missyoueverysingleday @cathy-1997
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042502 · 22 days
Text
Photography // M.Sturniolo x Reader.
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SYNOPSIS: After a meeting with friends, you and Matt have a sensual photography section. WARNINGS: Nude photographs, inappropriate language, sex, massages, a little jealousy, fetishes, feet. NOTES: My first language is not English, so if you find any grammatical errors you already know why :) avoid making offensive comments about it, If this is too much for you, Fuck off. MASTERLIST!!
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I put me cell phone aside, after sending a message to Sophia, saying that you were already home. Me attention is completely focused on the figure of the boy leaning against the bedroom door frame, with the camera lens still looking at i and a smile on his lips. You strike a pose, taking the wine glass between my fingers before another click.
"Was it good?" I ask sitting on her calves.
Matt looks at the camera screen, still smiling widely, even a little goofy.
"You always turn out well" he praises me and I feel my cheeks hurt from laughing so much.
I see him approaching, sits in front of me, on the floor of the room. I stretch my legs towards Matt's body, and quickly grabs one of my feet to warm it with his palms. I'm sighing, feeling his thumb massaging a specific area of my bare sole.
I bring the wine glass to my lips to take a sip.
"Do you like me?" I try to find out, quietly. I hold the wine glass against my chin, feeling the coldness of the glass. thoughtfully.
"¿Mmm?”
"Your friends. Do they like me?"
Matt hangs his head in the corner.
"And who wouldn't like you, baby?"
"Sometimes I think I don't have much to add, my mood isn't very good" I begin to list.
"They love you, don't worry" he lifts your leg slightly to kiss my heel "And you? You like him?"
I Smile.
"Yes," I reply. "They're fun. Nate is hilarious”
"It's a good thing Chris didn't drink, and was able to take him home."
"Sophia is very pretty and nice. I think we can be friends... And Madi too, she's fun" Before taking another sip, i lifts her other foot so Matt can massage it, just as he did with the previous one.
Matt leaves me another kiss, this time on top of my fingers. Some hands run over my skin, soft, one extends to my ankle and returns, in a caress. Matt gaze meets my.
"Nate says you're pretty," he comments, like it doesn't matter, but his eyes darken. And me don't cooperate, daring when you give a mischievous smile, looking at the ground.
"He's cute, too."
"Mm... Seriously?"
"He's cute too. He's really hot." I feels a determined pressure during the massage and laughs unassumingly. "He's an adorable boy."
Matt catches his bottom lip under his teeth, as if he has to bite off the words before they can escape his mouth. The even theatrical expression makes I laugh a few more times, so when he gives me one back.
"Do you think he's more adorable than me?"
"Jealous, baby?"
Matt pulls me by my feet, making me back slide against the arch that separates the room from the balcony. Teeth graze me skin, nibbling, teasing. All the clumsy movement is meant to tickle me and make i laugh until your stomach hurts.
"Matth..." I tries to say his name, in vain, because he chokes on the word halfway and only knows how to bend his legs to save himself from the attack of jealousy.
When he gets mercy, it's a disaster. With her elbows resting on the cold floor, her legs spread and the hem of her floral dress completely wrapped around her waist. I gasps, noticing that her eyes are even wet.
My boyfriend's gaze goes from soft to hot as he places his attention between me legs. The sight of the cute underwear model is a refreshment for blue eyes; The background is light, lace at the edges. Also rest me head on the doorpost in front of me, take the digital camera, hanging by the strap around me neck, once again in my hands.
The angle, now more lascivious due to the circumstances, is not scary. On the contrary, calm down, me murmur, because you'd rather pull down me thong and show off again.
A mischievous smile appears on the boy's lips, behind the camera, but he did not take the photo. He approaches, on his knees, to position itself between my thighs. With one hand, I spread my legs further apart.
“It's cute,” he says charmingly, because the next sentence is obscene. “But it would be prettier for the camera if it were wet, right?”
Me nod and watch as Matt takes his thumb into his mouth and sucks on it, then brings it to me sweet spot. The stimulus soon grows in my lower abdomen, it's exact. In circles, in a pleasant rhythm, like someone who is more than used to caressing me there.
I throws his head back and sighs. The delicious burning in the pit of me stomach is even more pleasant when he takes the opportunity to bite my chin, blowing the hot air against my skin. My body responds, shuddering, me insides clenching around the void, needing something inside.
"Ah, yes, baby, now..." I only looks forward when i hears him whisper. I follows the up and down movement that the indicator makes between the wet mess me become, sinking slightly, but not entering. Her eyes were lost between my legs.
"How pretty..." he leans in to place a kiss on the corner of my mouth. "I would love to capture the moment..."
He doesn't even care if your face will be framed by the camera, his expression sweet, his lips parted and his eyes shining with lust. Most of the time, the albums they make don't even reveal the dirty faces of the bodies immortalized at seedy angles. Oh yeah, i done this before. Repeatedly. Perhaps more than can be counted.
Me think it's just my little thing, you know? Something in common. Me can't deny it, the ego rises when me watch the shots i takes. Me really think me the most beautiful girl because of him. And it's not that he hasn't taken risks as someone behind the camera, too. Among the different photos in which me are the muse, are my, of the male body. The striking jaw, the slightly white skin. The hands with long, thin fingers, the small V-shaped entrances that lead to the bare abdomen, marking the pelvic bone.
Is it too naughty to have wished during dinner that the camera would stop photographing the moment of celebration and be used in the living room, like now? Of course me enjoyed the time me shared with my boyfriend's friends, my feel like you're going to be friends with his friends, but well, I'm already so trained in showing yourself in front of the camera that me can't. Look at him with the object in front of his hands without feeling a tingle in my body. The curves of my body drawing me in the darkness, naked on the mattress after giving it so much; semen-stained skin and his mischievous smile, as if nothing had happened.
"Matt" i say the name in the most sensual and cunning way i know how. Me hands go straight to the waistband of the shorts, restless until me undo the only button. I gets up from the floor, reverses her position with such eagerness, moaning like a kitten. in heat, until he gets him to lean his back against the bedroom wall, hiding them both from the lighting that penetrates the room from the apartment balcony.
"What? Hmm?" I still have to hear the hoarse voice whispering, pretending, as if it can't even read perfectly what me want. Matt is smiling, he helps me slide me shorts and underwear down a little so me can grab his erection. "What's up, huh?"
He himself is in charge of getting rid of the camera that he has hanging from his neck, taking off his shirt and throwing the object in any direction.
He holds his chin, raising his attention from the head shining with lust to the man's cynical face. However, his movements with clenched fists, rising and falling along, do not stop.
"You're so excited you can't even talk, like a smart girl, right?" The tone is pure mockery, laughing, teasing me just when me need it most. Me pout my lips, me palms already wet. I lifts her hips just so i can line me up and lowers them again, turning them inward.
The boy's hands slide down me thighs, pricking the flesh with his nails until they dig into my ass. He closes his eyes taking advantage of the tight sensation of being swallowed by my body, he even leans down to seek my lips, but he remains with his mouth half open, sucking air into his lungs.
He crosses his legs, giving me full support with his thighs to go up and down without quickly feeling his muscles hurt. He encourages me, pays me one or two compliments with a sweet accent that makes me forget the rhythm of the rubbing up and down against Matt crotch. He's rubbing his sensitive spot, his fingers sinking into my boyfriend's thick hair. And it contains no pleasure. The sweet moan, head tilted to the side, mouth open, so crazy in the sensation that a little saliva slips from the corner and drips onto one's own thigh.
"Silly" Matt mocks, with a smile. He takes his thumb to wipe away the wet traces, but I just wanted to trick him, ending with a light pat on the cheek. I laugh and he laughs.
He grabs the hair at the back of my neck firmly, so that i eyes cannot escape his gaze.
"You know what you want, huh?" He tells, but he doesn't respond with words. I lifts me off the floor, i guides me to the bed. In her hands is the control to adjust me sitting on I'm calves on the mattress, leaning me torso so that it is resting on the edge. He leans down and is ready to be inside me once again. "Imagine how delicious a photo of you body dripping with semen would be, huh? What do you think?"
I smile, satisfied with the new circumstances. Just imagining yourself that way is enough to make my body boil, offering yourself even more in that position. And the worst thing is that i stays still, with her little eyes looking over her shoulder at the man's figure so focused on getting everything in until he completely falls apart, that when i catches him with a mischievous smile, i feels her cheeks burn.
Unfortunately, he also doesn't escape the completely drooling boner at the end. My body expels the white cream during the first contraction. matt gasps, unable to divert his attention from such an erotic scene. He could have lifted the camera off the ground at the same time, immortalizing such indecency, but the echo of voices coming from the street makes him click his tongue in frustration.
“Mattheeeew!” Madi is the one who shouts first, screeching. The last syllable not only lengthens, but also takes on a higher pitch.
"Come back, Matt! Hey, open the door, heeey?" Nate shouts along. "Madi forgot the... What did you forget?"
"Matt!" The third voice is Chris's, also making a fuss, as if it were the end of the world that Madi had forgotten something that not even the girl herself can remember what it is. And from the sound of the horn to get more attention, it seems that everyone returned to their front door at this time of night. My God, the neighbors...
My boyfriend pulls up his shorts, buttons them to cover himself as much as possible, and sighs. But me call him before letting him go anyway.
"Matt..."
"Calm down, baby" the male voice sounds soft. He caresses me back, tilting his head so he can look at me. "Stay here, quietly, wait for me. "I'll be back, I'm going quickly."
"But, Matt," i grabs his wrist as he watches him threaten to leave again. “What if it drips on the floor?”
The expression on Matt's face is so angry that me even regret the stupid question. His smile spreading, the soft bite of his lips as he shifts the focus from his eyes to my ass.
"Ah baby, you look prettier for the photo that way." 
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NOTES: Remember to hit the heart and share it with your friends! Thanks for reading^^ If you want to be part of the taglist, leave a comment on the post posted on my profile!
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femmefatalevibe · 10 months
Note
how to balance work and personal life???
Plan your days & week around your energy peaks: Figure out the times of the day when you're most focused, productive, creative, fidgety, sleepy, etc., and structure your days/weeks/month around your internal clock to the best of your ability. While this may be slightly difficult if you have a 9-5 or go to school during the day, think about what blocks of time are best dedicated to meetings, creative work, planning, routine tasks, emails, studying, etc. For those with uteruses, consider your energy throughout your cycle to help you plan the month.
Create "bookend" routines: While these will often be your morning and nighttime routines, consider how you prime and unwind your mind from your biggest tasks of the day (for most of us, this will be work, school, and chores on the weekends). Some reading, light movement, and upbeat music can create momentum before starting your daily tasks. A long walk and some journaling are a simple yet productive combination to decompress from the day.
Embrace the power of 3s: Create a daily primer routine, workday, and relaxation routine around 3 core tasks/projects/rituals. For example: Mornings can include using your 5-Minute Journal, doing a quick 10-minute meditation/yoga/dancing session to get in some movement, and spending 10 minutes reading; Your workday should be focused on completing your "Big Three" tasks, projects, or meetings of the day; Evenings can include a quick 5-10 minute planning session for the next day, a 15-60 minute walk or workout (depending on how you're feeling), and some journaling/reading time after dinner. You don't need to do it all. Consistency is key.
Make A Life Admin Schedule (and Stick To It): Choose days (and times if possible) of the week to update certain spreadsheets, batch reply to less urgent messages, clean your house, do laundry, grocery shop, etc. Scheduling these tasks ahead of time eliminates half of the battle for following through on what you need to do. Eventually, you will make these tasks into habitual routines that your brain will allow you to execute effortlessly as though you're in autopilot mode.
Focus on systems, not habits: Consider the domino effect of each practice and activity. Determine whether your current strategies and routines align with your energy, goals, and desired outcomes. Reflect on the parts of your routine that increase/decrease your energy and motivation. See how you can create a system – a pattern of consistently-practiced habits – that supports your goals and desired lifestyle that does not compromise your overall life satisfaction and well-being.
Set Boundaries: Understand your expectations, non-negotiables, and limits in every area of your life. Communicate these principles to others clearly, so they know when they are overstepping. Don't tolerate disrespect, but also don't expect others to be mind-readers. If someone knows that they're crossing your boundaries, it is easy to draw the line in the sand and walk away without the guilt or shame that can arise when conflicts originate from a lack of healthy communication.
Incorporate One Creative Practice Into Your Week: Reinvigorate your mind by engaging in at least one hour of creative activity per week. Try drawing, creative writing, poetry, singing, dancing, painting, pottery, jewelry making, graphic design, photography, etc. Even taking a foreign language course or creating a Pinterest inspiration/mood board or organizing your home/closets in an aesthetically-pleasing way counts. Figure out what creative outlet(s) you find satisfying. Prioritize scheduling this practice into your schedule weekly.
Give Yourself A Weekly "Treat": Find a healthy indulgence that you can strategically incorporate into your week. This "treat" can be a massage or nail appointment, permission to watch a movie or a couple episodes of a TV show, a serving of your favorite dessert or a glass of wine, etc. Life is meant to be enjoyed. Consider regular indulgence as an act of self-care not as a sign of weakness or self-destruction. Embracing pleasure does not require guilt or external permission.
Experiment until you find an achievable balance: Focus on progress, not perfection. While there may be days or even seasons where hard work and fewer pleasures take priority, life is meant to bring you joy, peace, and satisfaction at the end of the day. Remaining in your comfort zone does you no good. However, learning ways to find pleasure in the process remains the key to long-lasting discipline and the energy necessary to maintain the determination required for success.
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solarisensun · 2 years
Text
Picture Perfect (1)
yandere Gojo Satoru + Geto Suguru x f!reader
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-guess who’s back 😗 (sorry for the odd spacing again ugh)
For some odd reason, you always feel like you are being watched
Warnings: yandere themes, implied drugging +photography, alcohol consumption, NSFW
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It’s bright.
Even with your eyelids stuttered close, the harsh blinding light shines through them until your head pounds painfully.
Is the room spinning? Or is it just your head that’s tilting on its own axis?
You open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out of your mouth. It feels as if someone had stuffed your brain with cotton. Why is it so bright? You want to ask. Everything seems distorted and muffled. It almost feels as if you are sinking underwater.
The final thing you manage to register is a slow, deep chuckle like warm velvet and the gentle brush of fingertips against your cheek before your head lolls to the side and…
nothing.
You almost feel glad that the light is gone.
You always feel like you’re being watched whenever you step into the building.
Both figuratively and literally.
There’s always people bustling about within the building. And familiar smiles are thrown your way when you make your way past the glass sliding doors. “Morning, Miss,” the security guard nods at you from his post and you return his greeting with one of your own. The pretty receptionist at the table gives you a wiggle of her hands before her attention is drawn back to her phone, presumably entertaining another client.
Things are never really quiet here in Tokyo’s largest modeling agency.
And in every corner of this sleek, modern building, the sight of security cameras were not uncommon.
Still, there is this unshakable feeling that lingers on the nape of your neck every single time you step foot within this vicinity. Almost unconsciously, your left hand finds its way to your neck whilst your right hand tightens its grip around your iced coffee. It almost feels as if there is a ghostly presence breathing down your back as a shudder skitters down your spine.
It isn’t until the other staff give you an odd look for loitering in the lobby whilst stock-still when you take a deep inhale to regain your senses.
Perhaps you need to take a break to fix your sleep schedule.
Last night had been another oddly restless night. Oftentimes, you’ve woken up with a pounding headache and constant nightmares that left you feeling disorientated. Even your makeup artist had commented on the increased amount of concealer she needed to use recently to cover up your dark eye circles.
It doesn’t help that you’ve had butterflies fluttering around your stomach ever since your manager informed you of the shoot that you were having today with none other than Gojo Satoru, arguably the man that has the entirety of Japan falling over their feet with a mere glimpse of his picture-perfect face on magazine covers. Though there was no doubt that his beauty was as notorious as his reputation as a bachelor. It wasn’t him that you were worried about. It was the sheer size of the project, probably one of your agency’s biggest projects to date. Unlike Gojo, who had his name already firmly cemented in the modeling industry, this project would give you the chance to do the same too.
And to make matters worse, the photographer for today’s shoot-
Too caught up in your own thoughts, you nearly run face-first into someone else, barely avoiding getting your coffee all over his black shirt.
“Oh,” you blurt out in panic, “I’m so sorry! Please forgive me for not paying attention to my-”
“It’s all right.” His voice, albeit low and cordial, has not an inch of warmth in them. Dark eyes meet yours when you lift your head. Smooth obsidians greet your gaze, and almost immediately, prickles of fear explode across your skin. There’s something, something in his empty eyes that makes you take a step back like a startled rabbit.
Maybe it’s the way his figure looms over your hunched figure.
Before you can take another step away, the feeling of a large hand propped on your waist has you coming to an abrupt halt. All five of his fingers are curled around your waist; it almost feels as if he might break you in two if he squeezed too hard.
“Geto-san,” you mumble when realization crashes across your shoulders. You’ve never seen him in real life before. Though his photography works were renowned, the reclusive photographer has never once accepted interviews nor allowed for his picture to be taken. The only reason you recognize him is the fact that you’ve caught a glimpse of his face once or twice when he had projects occurring in this building. Nevertheless, his face is not one that many would forget. Up close, you can see the clean, unbroken lines of his haughty cheekbones and a strong jaw. His hair is pulled up into a messy bun; there’s something elegantly unsettling about the way he carries himself.
And a small part of you feels almost bad for judging this man but for some reason, it almost feels difficult to breathe in his presence alone.
The ghost of a smile touches his lips, curling them barely upwards. Though it doesn’t exactly look genuine. “I believe we are well-acquainted.” The darkness in his eyes is stark against his pale skin. “You must be the model having a shoot with me later.” He withdraws his hand. “Do be careful the next time you are walking around. You wouldn’t want to get some nasty bruises.”
“Ah,” you breathe out, proud that your voice doesn’t waver. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Geto-san. Please take good care of me later.”
Now that the initial shock has worn off, your fraying nerves have somewhat cooled down enough that you can look him in the eye without being overcome by the feeling that you want to bolt and get as far away from him as possible.
Geto blinks slowly, his face is as impassive as smooth marble.
“Of course.”
Your arched brows draw together, the studio lights, glints off the silver headband wound in your hair to hold the elaborate braids in place. Once again, your stylist has outdone herself with her choice of styling today. Yet, the longer you linger under the harsh lights, the pounding in your head seems to worsen with each passing second. It’s gotten to the point where you can almost feel your migraine splitting your poor head in half. s
A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you rest your cheek against the cool table, careful not to mess up the hours that your stylist had put into your hair.
Maybe if you close your eyes for a moment everything will calm down.
Even with your eyes shut, the sensation that something, someone is watching you never really dissipates. God, it almost feels like the omnipresent presence is practically looming over your shoulder. You could almost imagine it’s ghostly hands wrapped around your neck, tightening with each slow thud of your heart
Though you knew that if you turned around, there was nothing more but a lone security camera in the far corner.
You really need a break after this.
Preferably, somewhere quiet, and peaceful, and where it isn't so bloody bright.
“Are you all right?”
You jerk up so fast that your head nearly collides against Gojo’s.
“Gojo-san,” you gasp, trying to calm the thunderous heartbeat in your chest. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, please.” You hadn’t even heard him open the door.
“My bad.” He raises his arms up in defeat. “But I was genuinely worried. You know you looked like you died? Laying on the table all lifeless like that.” For once, your mischievous co-worker looks genuinely concerned, and it almost takes you by surprise. You've gotten too used to never taking his words seriously due to the mirth that glistens in his eyes.
You give him a weak smile, massaging your temples as you reply, “I’m all right. It’s just that I’ve been having trouble sleeping recently. All those sleepless nights are really taking a toll on me.”
He clicks his tongue in response. “After this, we are going for drinks, all right? The three of us, together. You need to loosen up.”
“The three of us?” A frown pinches your brows together.
“Me, you and Suguru of course!” he replies.
“Geto-san?”
“Who else?” Gojo gives you a funny look. You’ve always known that the duo had a history that went way back, but why would he ask you along? To say that you and Gojo were friends would be a stretch. Your conversation with him had never extended past your work life, and you aren’t exactly sure you want him into your personal life as well. After all, you’ve always prided yourself in keeping your reputation squeaky clean.
Gojo, on the other hand, seemed to take delight in gracing the tabloid covers with his extravagant spending and many sexual exploits.
“I don’t think-”
“Come on now,” Gojo whines as he stands over you, both his arms boxing you in perfectly. “When are you going to see me as more than your co-worker?” The sheer intensity burning in his bright crystalline blues make you avert your gaze. “I’m an excellent friend. You know that?”
You level him with an even stare, utterly unfazed by his close proximity. Gojo had always been handsier than most. “We both know you’re a horrible drinker. I don’t want to be hauling your ass back home when you can barely walk.”
Instead of denying, Gojo merely grins as he lowers his head even closer to your face. “I won’t drink.” A thoughtful look flickers over his pristine features before he adds, “And I’m not letting you out of this room until you say yes.”
“Gojo-san!”
“Come on. I promise you, you’ll sleep like the dead if you just go out with me- us, tonight.”
You knock his arm away from the side of your head and step away. “Fine. But only just this once.”
The wide smirk that grows on Gojo’s face almost makes you regret your reply.
“But I’m not exactly acquainted with Geto-san,” you confess, “I wouldn’t want to make things awkward. I know how close the two of you are.” The mere mention of his name and the way his bottomless gaze studied you makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.
Gojo waves his hand airily. “Nonsense! Suguru warms up fast when you get to know him.” He gives you a wink as he slings his arm around your shoulders, nearly knocking you forward in the process. “Trust me, he’s all bark and no bite.”
The moment the weight of his arm is around your shoulder, the room seems to blur before your eyes.
White light.
The click of a camera.
Fingers brushing your hair away from your cheek.
A warm body, pressed against yours.
You stumble, pitching forward bonelessly and your face nearly hits the floor until Gojo wraps his hand around your arm and yanks you back to your feet.
“Woah.” In a smooth motion, he pulls you into his embrace. The smell of expensive cologne muddles your senses even further.
“You all right?”
“I-“ Words seem to fail you. So, you brace your palms against his chest and take a shuddering breath in. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. Just give me a moment please.”
You squeeze your eyes shut until the room doesn’t feel like it’s rotating in dizzying circles anymore. And finally, you open your eyes to see Gojo’s worried-filled face swimming in your blurry vision.
“Are you sure? I don’t think you should work in this state,” Gojo tells you in earnest. “I can always inform Geto and we can reschedule our shoot for another day.”
“No!” You cry out a little too loudly. “I- I mean, it’s all right. I don’t want to mess things up. It’s just my sleepless nights catching up to me.” You parrot again in a calmer tone.
Suddenly, Gojo’s invitation to drink appears much more tempting. It did sound good to drink yourself wasted and crash out for the night. Plus, both Gojo and geto seemed like friends whom you could rely on. Earlier, Gojo’s warm enthusiasm about Geto suddenly sends a stab of guilt into you. Truthfully, he did seem like a nice man.
The lack of sleep must be getting to you. Combined with the fact that it’s making you utterly paranoid out of your mind.
Your reply earns you a dubious look. “Anything you say. But the moment you show signs of doing that again, we are ending the shoot.”
“Thanks, Gojo-san.” You give him an earnest smile. “Maybe you aren’t so bad after all” you joke.
“Nah. Don’t let your guard down so fast. I’m not as much of a saint as you paint me out to be.”
“Satoru, I told you to look at the camera, not at her.” The sheer annoyance laced in Geto’s statement almost makes you flinch.
On the contrary, Gojo merely gives an annoyed Geto a lazy smile. Upon spotting the grimace on your face, his devilishly rogue smile widens. It’s easy to see why this man had everyone tripping over their feet.
His snowy hair tickles your cheek when he brings his forehead close to yours. A puff of warm breath grazes your ear as Gojo chuckles. “Don’t look so scared. Suguru’s, all bark and no bite.”
Against your better judgment, you feel your cheeks heat up at the way Gojo is talking to you. You blame it on the position that the two of you are in. With both his hands propped on either sides of your face and one of his thighs between your legs. The strap of your dress has slid off, and Gojo’s suit is unbuttoned to reveal the smooth planes of his chiseled chest.
It’s the image of every fan’s wet dream. To have the Gojo Satoru pressed above you.
But the abrupt snap of the shutter yanks you back to reality. All of a sudden, things don’t exactly seem as perfect as they do.
Already, there’s a headache pounding at the back of your head.
“You too.” Geto’s clipped voice calls out amidst the clicks. “Camera. Not each other.”
Reluctantly, you yank your eyes off Gojo’s toothy grin and onto the raven-haired man with half of his face obscured by the camera. When did he get so close? A strand of his hair has fallen out of his bun, but Geto pays it no mind as he continues to angle the camera at the both of you.
You force your tensed body to relax as you peer into the lens, you can see a little reflection of yourself reflected in those dark shutters. It’s taking everything in you not to wince when the repeated click, click, click, echoes mutedly in the air. Picture after picture, your image is imprinted into the film like little notches frozen in time. Bile rises up like a wave in your clogged up throat.
“Look here.” With a jolt, you realize your attention has begun drifting away from the camera. Geto sounds annoyed, almost frustrated, and the tone of his voice sends your already frazzled nerves fraying even more. The last thing you want is to make him annoyed. You don’t want to lose this project before it has even started. Geto readjusts his position. Without warning, he strides over to you and grabs your wrist. The sensation of his cold fingers on your skin makes you gasp like a startled rabbit and you would have scuttled backwards if it weren’t for the fact that Gojo still has you pinned underneath him. You are sure he can feel the way your breath has hitched the moment Geto gripped you.
“You need to put your arm on his shoulder.” With a breathtaking gentleness that one wouldn’t have expected, Geto guides your arm to loop it around Gojo’s shoulder. Yet, his gentleness doesn’t exactly make you feel any better. The look on Gojo’s face is unreadable, almost as if he’s studying you.
Finally, Geto seems satisfied. He brings the camera up again. You don’t point out the fact that he still has his fingers clamped around your wrist and that it would be visible in the photo that he takes. “Look here,” he murmurs under his breath. You don’t point out the fact that Gojo is still looking at you with some sort of burning fervor in his pretty blues. Weren’t you both supposed to look at the camera?
You see a flash of pearly white when Geto smiles. “Perfect.”
Just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, Geto finally puts his camera aside as he runs a hand through his loose hair. “Let’s take a break.” His empty stare meets yours, and you look away. “We will continue later.”
Gojo helps you to your feet and you continue to intently ignore the weight of Geto’s heavy stare that pins you across your back. Save for the three of you, the studio is empty after Geto insisted for everyone to leave so that he could work in peace. He’d always been particularly meticulous and stubborn with his shoots. And his renowned reputation as a photographer lets him get away with the most bizzare of requests. For some reason, there’s something oddly and unsettling familiar about both their presences lingering just so close to you.
A soft knock on the door has you scurrying over to open it and you almost heave out a relieved sigh at the sight of a familiar face. “Nanami.” A bright smile tugs the corners of your lips upwards when your manager steps into the studio. “I thought you left.”
Nanami, ever the reliable person, hands you a small towel and a cup of warm water, “I’m here to check up on you before I leave.”
Immediately, your brilliant smile fades from the bright glow of a burning sun to nothing more but a flickering candlelight. It doesn’t go unnoticed by your manager. “I can stay if you want. I’ll drop you off after your shoot is done,” Nanami adds gently.
Just as you open your mouth to reply, Gojo cuts in, “Come on now, there’s no need for that. Besides, she’s joining us for drinks after.”
Nanami doesn’t even bother concealing the disapproving look that fleets across his face. “You are?”
Faced with your manager’s stern questioning, you can’t help but fidget anxiously. “Just for a few drinks.” A lightbulb lights up on your head. “Nanami, why don’t you join us?” You hope your voice doesn’t sound too pleading.
“It’s late.” Geto’s velvety voice drifts over. “I’m sure we wouldn’t want to trouble your manager for staying up so late. I’m unsure how long this shoot will last. After all, we aren’t even halfway done yet. Photography is an art that cannot be rushed. I promise you that I’ll be there to keep Satoru in check. You need not worry for her safety.”
All hope that was blossoming in you shrivels up like dried petals.
Seemingly satisfied by Geto’s responsible answer, Nanami nods his head. “All right. Remember to text me when you get home.”
At the doorway, something in your fuzzy gaze seems to stop Nanami in his tracks. But when Geto gives him a firm yet polite smile, he decides that maybe you deserve a night out. After all, he’d always been too strict with you recently. You deserve to have some fun without him constantly breathing your neck. Without another thought, Nanami shuts the door behind him.
——
You’re so perfect that he almost feels like a depraved pervert for even looking at you up close like this.
Being so close, he could almost count each lash that fans across your cheekbones, the tiny pores on your skin, the minty toothpaste that you use. It makes his heart leap to his throat.
Judging by the slow rise and fall of your chest, you must have drifted off into the darkness by now. It's a shame, he did prefer it when you were at least able to remain aware of his touches. Your cute mumbles and attempt to bat his hand away never failed to amuse him to no end.
Nevertheless, he hums to himself, tucking a stray hair of yours behind your ear as he raises the camera to his face.
Click.
Another picture to add to his ever growing collection.
Click.
He almost blushes at the way your shorts have ridden up to expose your thighs. And the camera has certainly captured each dip and contour of your body well.
Click.
Unable to help himself, he angles the camera lower until your lovely face isn’t the only thing in frame. Maybe he really is nothing more than a pervert.
Click.
The abrupt flashes make you stir, making your cheek grazes his outstretched finger, and he shudders at the warmth. Though your delicate softness beckons to him like a flower waiting to be plucked and lovingly pressed against the pages of a book to preserve for an eternity. He resists the temptation.
Instead, he lets his finger trace your collarbones before moving down your limp shoulders. No matter how hard the tent in his pants has begun to strain, he does not give in to that sick little voice that chimes in his head.
No. Instead, he smiles at your motionless figure with nothing but sick adoration and love in his eyes. Gently, he leans down and presses a kiss against your cheek. You mumble incoherently in response.
Even unconscious, your beauty shines ever as brilliantly.
He raises the camera again with a shaky exhale.
Click.
You think that you might be going crazy. Or perhaps, you were being pushed to the brink of insanity. Because even amongst the crowded bar, with the incessant drone of loud chatter echoing your ears, the dreaded sound of the camera’s shutter somehow makes its way to grab your attention.
It can’t be… Wildly, you whip your head from side to side as you scan the crowded room. Everywhere you turn, you are greeted with nothing but flashing neon lights and not a single camera in sight. Were you really starting to hear things now?
Gojo steps into your line of sight with his megawatt smile glinting against the strobe flashes, snagging your attention. He raises two glasses. “Free drinks from the owner.”
From your side, you can hear Geto chuckle. He’s standing a little too close for your liking, but you ignore it in favor of the drink which Gojo sets in your hand. “What is it?” you ask. The heavy bass of the song must have drowned out your answer because Gojo motions you closer with a quizzical look on his face.
Instinctively, you step closer to him, practically balancing on the tip of your toes in order to reach his ear. With one hand still clutching the drink, which was now precariously sloshing around from all your movement, you lean forward and yell into Gojo’s ear, “What is it?”
It takes you another moment before you realize that there’s another body pressed behind yours and Geto’s voice resonates besides you. “Don’t worry about what’s the drink. I can promise you it's good,” he murmurs. “Try it,” Geto urges, his hand closing around your fingers around the metal, folding his fingers into your own as he pushes the cup to coax your lips open. Vaguely, you are aware that his- both their breaths smell like the drink, coy, tantalizing honey paired with hints of fresh lime undertones that paint a sharp contrast to the sugary syrup.
All of a sudden, you are also hyper aware of the fact that both men now have you sandwiched between them without escape. And maybe it’s the drink, or the atmosphere, or the fact that despite your uncomfortableness around them, there’s no denying that they were both ridiculously attractive men.
You want to bat Geto’s hand away, you really do. But he’s being so gentle, and a part of you thinks that you deserve this. You deserve to let loose a little and have fun. Geto’s breath ghosts over the shell of your ear. “I promise. It’s really good.” In front of you, Gojo is looking at you like the three of you are sharing some intimate moment that just makes everything else melt away.
Without another word, you open your mouth and let Geto tip the drink into your parted lips. He’s practically holding the cup at this point, with his other hand curled lightly around the nape of your neck. True to his word, it tastes better than you’d expected. Though the sharp bite of the alcohol makes you wince, it’s quickly replaced by a sweet aftertaste that mingles pleasantly with the alcohol. Unconsciously, you swipe your tongue across your bottom lip to catch the remaining remnants.
It’s dangerous, the way you already feel slightly light, and you know that you wouldn’t think twice to knock back another drink if any of them offered you seconds.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” Gojo asks you with a grin a little too wide for your liking.
You nod. Gojo responds by handing the other drink to Geto, who downs the entire thing with a neat flip of his wrist.
The hand on your neck shifts to your waist as Geto gently spins you around until you are facing him. “Come.” He smiles down at you, his black linen shirt is already unbuttoned at the top and his hair has been let loose from its bun, causing it to fall in tousled waves across his broad shoulders. Outside of work, Geto appeared to be much more approachable and carefree. Maybe you’d judged him too quickly. Dimly, you are rather surprised that Gojo hadn’t been the one to approach you first.
His pretty smile widens when you don’t pull away as he entwines the fingers of his large hand with your daintier ones. “Let’s dance.” The warmth of his rough palm licks against your smaller one as Geto gently leads you away towards the centre of the floor.
The moment his hands find their way around your hips and the alcohol sings in your veins, it almost feels as if everything around you has melted into a wondrous blur of musical giddiness.
One moment Geto’s long locks are tickling the nape of your neck as he whispers something into your ear. You can’t quite seem to concentrate on what he’s murmuring; all too aware of this way his fingers are splayed mere inches away from the hem of your dress. But this time, the nauseating feeling doesn’t arise..
When Geto’s low timbre reaches your ears again, you merely smile and laugh, too busy swaying your hips to the throbbing bass, too lost in your sweet bubble to notice how the photographer is looming over you, akin to a second shadow. Nor do you notice his dark, dark gaze as he watches you through half-lidded eyes that burn with a startlingly feverish intensity.
From a distance, a bright gaze tracks your figure.
Gojo was right. Tonight was going to be a good night’s sleep.
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kakusu-shipping · 6 months
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headcanons for dating Kyoya from Ouran? Iirc he was one of my crushes when I first watched the anime as a kid and I always thought his glasses were so cool
Dating Kyoya Ootori Headcanons
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He's the kind of guy who says he'd want someone low maintenance, who'd let him put work first, but then you meet his friend group and realize he's full of shit and does need the balance of someone clingy, loud, and high strung. It's comforting to him, familiar.
He could plan a date if you wanted him too, and it'd be classic and romantic and expensive with every little detail and moment planned out, but all of it would be pure "what the internet said a good date would be". It'd be better to tell him what you want to do as a starting off point, and he'd go from there
Gifts are a lot like his date planning as well, he'll get you anything you ask for but if you don't tell him directly what you want, you're getting whatever the top google results for Good Gift for Romantic Partner is. He won't get you something you'd hate or wouldn't use of course, but he figures if you wanted something specific you'd tell him.
All of this changes of course when he's feeling petty. One of the other hosts call him out for being so passive in his relationship? He'll change his tune, get you something perfect you didn't even know you needed until right then, or plan a date to somewhere you'd always wanted to go but never actually considered. He knows you better than anyone else, even yourself, and he can prove it when provoked.
You're probably the only person who could convince him to put down a project before 2am, or even better the only one who could wake him up before noon on a day off and survive the encounter without a verbal lashing. Though you probably still can't actually get him out of bed without good reason.
If he was ever mean to you in the morning he would probably be rather mortified, and would spend the day trying to make it up to you, subtlety of course. Please don't take anything he says before he's fully awake to heart.
He has thousands of photos of you on his phone, btw. And on Tachibana's phone. And a few on Honda's. And maybe a couple on Aijima's as well. He can't help himself, he just wishes to capture every beautiful moment he has with you. He's considered equipping Honda with a professional camera to capture beautiful moments of the two of you together as well. He is the best of the staff at photography.
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