#if its the later I hope someone gifts you an account

[random-hunter]

"Watcher should just move out of LA" "Watcher should cut production costs" "Steven should sell his car"

It's giving "Millenials should stop eatting Avacodo toast so they can buy a house." They have talked about wanting to move out of LA but it being impossible because that's where everyone they work with or want to work with is. They pay their employees, that's a considerable part of costs. And I'm always going to say workers rights first and foremost. Steven is still gonna need a car so even if he sold it yall would be mad that he got a new car.

*There is a small chance the talk about leaving was the Try Guys and not Watcher, but I'm 99% sure it was Shane, Ryan, Keith, and Zach talking about wishing they could be like Hank Green and move out of LA.

[naffeclipse]

Now I'm invested in the monster bf OCs AHAHAH like Hawthorn sounds like such a cutie !!! Also a mothman hello?? 😍 ( I kinda lowkey wanna draw him even tho I'm not well versed in drawing monster-esque characters 🤣✨ )

May I ask about how they'd all give affectionate gifts to MC? Any way shape or form to tell MC they love them and stuff 🥹💕 thanks in advance 🙏🏻

AH THANK YOU! I'm glad you like Hawthorn, he is such a cutie!! Ohhh, if you did, I'd love to see it! I need to get some refs commissioned for the monster boys but that's gonna have to wait a minute due to school starting soon for me ;-;

Hawthorn has a plethora of natural gifts for MC and he painstakingly takes the time to find the right beauties to present to his darling human. He sets spiral snail shells into MC's palm and tucks feathers from beautiful birds into MC's hair. Mostly, he brings flowers. He's a bit of a sap like that when he swoops down and stands before MC, all endearing, and quietly telling MC to take the bouquet of pink, blue, and yellow wildflowers that he spent the entire day collecting with little twigs and shrub leaves. He really hopes MC enjoys each and every gift. He puts a lot of thought into them. He just wants to see a pleased smile and a little bit of a twinkle in MC's beautiful eyes.

Grease isn't great at gifts but when he does have something to give, he bewilders poor MC with his offerings. A shiny ring that doesn't fit on MC's finger. An antique wristwatch with a cracked face. Once, a phone that clearly belonging to someone else. Misplaced valuables. MC grills Grease until he confesses that he finds most of his 'gifts' while he's going after fresh victims to feed on. MC tells him to stop stealing. Grease gets grumpy about it but he does turn to dumpster diving and finding little treasures tossed away along the side of the road. The things he does for MC.

Calmo doesn't have a way to give gifts like the other boys. He lives in MC's house and refuses to leave the safety of its walls. He figures out how to order items off of the internet but doing so costs money, and he's not going to dip into MC's bank account to supply MC with a gift. That would be meaningless. Instead, he turns to learning how to do human things, like cooking, dancing, and immersing himself in MC's interests. He gives MC a fresh, home-cooked meal after the end of a long shift at the diner. When MC's favorite song comes on, slow and romantic, he takes MC by the hand and softly spins with his dance partner around the room. A new book comes out that MC loves and Calmo ensures he reads it when MC is not home so they might exchange thoughts about the text later. MC doesn't realize they're gifts, but MC seems happy.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Can you please help me find some sugar daddy fics? I've been obsessed with it lately.

Hey Lovely!

Well, I've never read any myself, so I can't give you any personal recs, BUT I did a tag search on my offline MFL list, and decided to make a new list for you because I need content, LOL!!!

So, here are the fics I have on my MFL list, and if you guys have any more to add, PLEASE do, as always!! Hope you enjoy!!

SUGAR DADDY FICS (MFLs)

See also:

Rich Sherlock (March 2020) (MY LIST)

Sugar Daddy Sherlock (SwissMiss)

Sugar Daddy Part 1 (Alexxphoenix)

Sugar Daddy Part 2 (Alexxphoenix)

Worth Its Weight by philalethia (E, 2,986 w., 1 Ch. || Sugar Daddy AU || PWP, Daddy Sherlock, Daddy Kink, Service Domination, Gift Giving, Unsafe Sex, Sex Toys) – “Remember,” John said, “when we talked about you not buying me extravagant things?” Basically: a little bit of Valentine's Day daddy kink. Part 2 of All the Rest 'Verse

An Erotic Sail by justacookieofacumberbatch (E, 4,533 w., 2 Ch. || Sugar Daddy AU || Age Difference, Sugar Daddy John, Yacht Daddy John, Praise Kink, Porn Without Plot, Boat Sex) – Sherlock, fresh off a Semester at Sea ship in Crete, sees a gorgeous older man, and I'm sure you can guess what happens next.

Practically Perfect by vitruvianwatson (E, 6,303 w., 1 Ch. || Sugar Daddy AU || Age Difference, Younger Sherlock, Older John, Finger Fucking, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Office Sex, Emotionally Insecure Sherlock, Barista Sherlock, Doctor John, PWP) – There was a knock on the door, and then it opened. John shook the thoughts out of his head and looked up with his fake “I’m your kindly doctor” smile plastered on his face, but a second later his jaw dropped because his “patient” wasn’t a patient at all. It was none other than Sherlock bloody Holmes. Not only that, but he was dressed in one of his more indecent outfits—skin tight jeans that looked like they’d been bloody painted on, and a purple button-down that was straining, to say the least, to remain buttoned. John wondered if he’d worked at the coffee shop in that outfit today. He shut the door and leaned back against it with a wicked smile, and John heard the click of the lock.

A Suitable Stain by vitruvianwatson (E, 7,647 w., 1 Ch. || Sugar Daddy AU || Sugar Daddy John, Barista Sherlock, Older John, PWP, Rutting, Anal, Clothed Sex, Masturbation, Dirty Talk) – John imagines what they must look like--the young, gorgeous university student, naked as the day he was born, draped over the well-dressed older doctor, the muscles rippling in Sherlock's back as his slim hips roll that beautiful arse up into the air and back down again, his spine curving beneath John's hand as he moves it to the small of Sherlock's back to feel the movement. The hard outline of Sherlock's cock slides back and forth across John's body, dampening his clothes with precome, and John moves both hands down to Sherlock's arse, squeezing and pulling him in harder.

To A Tee by lookupkate (E, 15,321 w., 14 Ch. || Sugar Daddy AU || Sugar Daddy John, Hospital Director John, Sugar Baby Sherlock, Accidental Meeting) – Sherlock receives a text from an unknown number. The man is under the impression that he needs a sugar daddy. After careful consideration...well, he could be right.

A Kept Man Isn't A Weak Man by Elphen (E, 20,429 w., 1 Ch. || Omegaverse || Sugar Daddy John, Age Difference, Alpha John, Omega Sherlock, Mpreg, Sex Toys, Mating Bond, Possessive John, Knotting, Masturbation, Dominant John, Mating Cycles) – Sherlock is just out of university, but due to drug habits acquired at said college, Mycroft has cut him off, hoping to put a stop to it that way. Instead, Omega Sherlock struggles doubly, both with his cravings and with finding a job that will not bore him to death and support him financially. Then, when he is on the verge of being completely destitute, he finds several hundred pounds ticking into his account for no apparent reason. He thinks it's Mycroft, but instead he receives an email from someone who promises to send him more money every fortnight and put him up in a flat rent free, on two conditions; he will stop taking drugs and he will occasionally be asked to be a companion for someone. He does not want to be bought like some toy, but what choice does he have? The first time the door bell rings, he is sure the man will demand sex. But instead he finds a very sharply dressed man with money and physical power in his mid-30s who wants to talk with him and take him out to dinner. Things quickly escalates on the emotional and physical side for Sherlock, but can you really have a relationship with an Alpha like that?

Sugar Daddy John Series by Sexxica (E, 22,504+ w. across 7 works || Series WiP || Sugar Daddy John AU || Daddy Kink, Twink Sherlock, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Masturbation, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Dirty Talk, Comeplay, Anal / Oral, Sex Toys, Praise Kink, Lingerie / Crossdressing) – The very best of Sugar Daddy John and his boy, Sherlock.

sherlock and his daddy series by rory_kent (M, 24,433+ w. across 6 works || Series WiP || BDSM / Sugar Daddy AU || Sugar Daddy John, Age Difference, Sub Sherlock, Daddy Kink, Military Kink, Subspace, Hurt/Comfort, Coffee Shop AU, Unilock) – Sherlock didn't mean to upset daddy he really didn't!

All the Rest (of What I Want) by philalethia (E, 68,082 w., 20 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting || ASiP, Texting, First Time, Daddy Kink, Sugar Daddy Sherlock, Daddy Sherlock, Sex Toys, Phone Sex, Sexting, Unsafe Sex, Service Domination) – After being invalided home from Afghanistan, John takes his therapist's advice and tries to meet people online. Specifically, he joins a fetish site, where he ends up interacting with a man called SH who keeps paying him money to perform odd tasks and seems very keen to take care of him. Basically: slow-build daddy kink. Part 1 of All the Rest 'Verse

Nine and a Half Weeks by CumberCurlyGirl and Kameo (E, 204,733+ w., 41/42 Ch. || WiP || American AU || Different First Meeting, Daddy Kink, Bottomlock, Anal Plug, Riding Crops, Spanking, Light Bondage, Anal/Oral, Aftercare, Posh John, Virgin Sherlock, Homophobia, Sugar Daddy John, Rimming, Coming in Pants, Light Dom/Sub, Past Sherlock / Victor, Light BDSM, Public Sex, John in a Kilt, Vibrators, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is about to graduate from high school in midwestern America. Despite his intelligence, his prospects are bleak due to poverty, an indifferent, alcoholic father and poor choices. One day, at work, he sells a riding crop to a handsome blonde Brit and his life is changed. He doesn't know what hit him - until he does. This is a story of a journey to love and self-acceptance and explores many themes along the way: drug abuse, grief, coming out, age difference, consent. Lots of sex but so much more.

[sugudoe]

Hiii ❤️ Id love a matchmaking if its still open!

As for info, I just graduated from art school at uni, my MBTI is ENTJ, if you are into astrology im a Taurus Sun Leo moon, I dunno the others lol.

I tend to be a tad picky with people, and maybe unwillingly a bit mean whenever someone is slow, but overall im very unconditionally giving in my current rs, even if i tend to do other connections as a bit transactional, I enjoy surrounding myself with ambitious people, success is goal (even if morally grey💀)

I do dance in my free time, i have a huge collection of clothes, bags, ascesaories, etc, as well as doing powerlifting for those muscle mommy gains, so health is super important to me. I play all kinds of videogames too, which i enjoy doing competitive and ranked a lot :)

hello, love! you seem so badass!! 🤍 super important, this one actually reminded me of a gojo one shot i’ll be posting tomorrow, so this focus on satoru’s love language i decided to use as an opening before my one shot. ps: sorry for only one pairing, i’ll be doing this from time to time unless i get confused on pairings — i have other works to post and the matchmakings are for fun, hope u guys understand.

✶ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru

You are meant for success, that’s something in your aura everyone senses — you are going to be the greatest. For Gojo Satoru, you were his achievement. Not in a have you as his trophy type of way, au contraire, he wanted to be yours.

Gojo sees how you are always surrounded by the most influential people, all eating from the palm of your hands, he wants to do the same. Satoru thinks there is nothing better to get them him — the strongest, head of the Gojo clan, bank account filled beyond the unlimited mind could think of.

Unknown to the male, he didn’t need to put himself on the spotlight to get your attention, your eyes had always been set on him, you were going to make him yours in just a matter of time. He easily accepted.

The first thing Gojo buys for you is a large original painting from your favorite artist, he thinks one of the walls in your apartment would look better with it, he is right. It’s a little thing he does, decorating any empty space with something you adore, not noticing the metaphor for your walls being you and this gifts being his love and devotion to you.

Satoru has a thing for your mean version. He loves to be by your side when you snap some rude comments, but he loves even more to be the target of your irritation. There is a thing you do (maybe moving your hair, maybe clicking your tongue, or your pretty mad face), he is all so mesmerized by it.

None of your fights last long, you sprint out of the shared apartment, mostly to go to your dance classes or the gym to relieve the anger. When you come back hours later, stress by the door and tiredness washing over your sweaty body, Satoru is always waiting with a smirk in his face and something to spoil you with.

Most of the time, designer clothes and bags to add to your collection in the closet. Sometimes a diamond necklace he catches you sighing for. This time, he just made dinner, your favorite. You smile gently and kiss his cheek before taking a much needed shower, when returning, still happy and eating while both apologize, Gojo gets you up from the chair.

You both slow dance, against your aching muscles and sleepy eyes, you are so focused you barely notice how Satoru whispers in your ear — “Marry me?”

Turns out, you still got a gift, a beautiful ring.

──── ✎ ° ⋆ FUN FACTS.

◛ ₊· Gojo and you some times have to deal with people making comments about his gift giving love, saying you are a gold digger. That’s the only moment you don’t have to snap, your fiancée does it for you — “Oh, whatever I give Y/n, they can give themselves, I just rather be the one doing it.”

◛ ₊· You spoil him as well, let it be an immense amount of sweets, fancy sunglasses designed for only him or to threaten the high ups and giving your lover vacation.

◛ ₊· Gojo likes to propose to you at least once every three months, you do some grandee thing, an amazing achievement or you just look particular cute that day, and he is again asking you to marry him.

◛ ₊· Satoru can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you, seeing you with white hair is his goals in life, to have you both matching.

◛ ₊· Canonically, Gojo is good at everything he does, that’s why he doesn’t have a job. After meeting you, and your love for videogames, you both learn he sucks at them. So, some date nights is just the two of you in your large game room. You winning easily and he dramatically whining.

[kaziwi]

Usopp, 19? Hehehhe

AHHH i was hoping someone would request Usopp with this hehehehehe, I hope you enjoy!!!

Link to Event

“You’re a horrible liar.”

Character(s): Usopp

WC: 547

It was the PERFECT gift. The best possible gift anyone could ever buy, and you were able to snatch it before anyone else. A few islands ago, while shopping with Usopp, he had mentioned a new set of super rare paints that were going to be released soon. He had expressed to you that he really wanted them, but there was a chance you'd be out at sea when they released, and basically every artist wanted them, so there was no chance he'd ever get them.

Well you just proved him wrong because YOU GOT THEM. You'd heard from the last island that they would be in stock at the next island...but only for a few days. So...as soon as you docked on the island you told everyone you wouldn't be back till later, causing a bunch of questioning stares. You RAN to the nearest art supply store and bravely FOUGHT your way through to get the paints (you had waited for like 3 hours for them to restock).

By the time you returned to the Sunny, the sun was setting. There was a good chance dinner was over, but you weren't worry since you were sure Sanji saved you a plate. You figured you would sneak off to your bed, hide the paints under your covers, and while Usopp was busy you'd quickly wrap them and give them to him. A simple easy plan to follow. Simple and easy.

What you didn't account for was running into Usopp on the way to your room. Great!!!!!!!!!

"Y/N!! There you are, you missed dinner. I know Sanji probably hid your food somewhere in the kitchen so Luffy doesn't find it, so don't worry about that-" he was going to continue rambling on, when he noticed you hiding a bag behind your back, "What's in there?" he asked.

Shit. You didn't think this out.....

"Um, well its nothing!!"

"Come onnn show meeeee," Usopp whined, "Is that why you were gone all day? What is it?"

You needed to come up with a lie so believable that even the great God Usopp, captain of 8000 men, basically the king of the liars, would be fooled.

"Its super SUPER rare treasure that I got from fighting a scary paint monster!!!! But you can't look at it cause it's mine!' You shouted.

WHAT WAS THAT WHY DID YOU SAY THAT!!!! Literally that was the worst possible lie you ever could have come up with.

It was silent for a good minute till Usopp burst out laughing. He was laughing so hard that he had to clutch his stomach. Great.

"You're a horrible liar," Usopp said in between laughs, "Maybe leave the lying to me, alright?"

Your face was beet red as you sighed and accepted that the surprise was ruined.

"I was going to surprise you with these..." you said, slowly pulling out the paints, "But since that was ruined, here's what I got you."

You could see how his jaw dropped from the sight of the paint. Literally. It hit the floor.

"How-HOW DID YOU GET THESE!!!!!!!!!!"

To say Usopp was happy was a understatement. If it wasn't for the 10000 thank yous and the new gadget he made for you that let you knew he was grateful, his newest story about the brave Y/N and how they saved the great captain Usopp from the evil paint monster made your heart melt.

[cheeriecherrymain]

Listen, I just think Viktor with an S/O from his childhood could be cute as hell. He was always left behind by the other kids because he couldn’t keep up with them on account of his bad leg. But instead of running forward with the other kids, S/O falls back to be with Viktor. Their always patient with him, aware he can’t do some the things they can. Viktor greatly appreciates their companionship and has he grows older starts to want more than just friendship with them. Seeing his sickness and physical condition as a barrier preventing them from being together. Not realizing S/O likes him just as he is.

Anon im biting you (affectionate)

Basically im a sucker for childhood friends to lovers

also i promise im slowly working on asks you guys, im like a mashed potato right now

Viktor x gn!Reader (SFW)

-So Viktor is used to being alone. He’s used to his peers doing things without him, ignoring him, or talking down to him - he fully believes that this is just a fact of his life. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t crave friendship, it just means that he’s hurt and wary. Even as a kid.

-And then you show up. One day he’s alone, and then suddenly he’s not.

-You don’t say anything to him at first. You don’t even really go near him, preferring to just linger in his general vicinity and do your own little tasks.

-But each day, you slink closer and closer to him; still keeping to yourself, but testing the waters. He hadn’t chased you away yet, or told you off for being nosey, so you’re hopeful that he might be amicable to friendship. Or at least sticking together for safety.

-One can only linger for so long, though, so there comes a time when you have to say something - you choose to ask him about the little boat he’s making, that he’s been diligently tinkering away with since you first laid eyes on him. It appears to be the right thing to ask about, because he shyly explains how it works, from its mechanical components, to its energy source, to its overall design.

-You don’t know a lot about machines, but you’re impressed nonetheless. You’ve never seen someone else around your age doing stuff like that - most other kids choose to run around and tussle with each other and wreak havoc…or worse, they’re put to work.

-It’s nice to find someone who’s quieter, like you are.

-Your friendship blooms after that. You start to bring your little art projects to work on when you see each other, explaining your passion to him; reveling in his confusion as he watches you carefully snip and sculpt wires into strange shapes, then in his surprise when you put all the pieces together like some kind of three dimensional puzzle, revealing your final creation.

-It’s nothing special, just a little flower brooch made of aluminum twine, but when you pin it to his bag and tell him that he’s its new owner, you’d think you’d gifted him the moon. (Later, you learn that it had been his birthday, and your present had been the only one he’d received)

-This trend continues throughout the years. Both your art and his designs get more complicated, but you still find the time to make little trinkets for one another. It’s a running joke that you make him a little flower pin for his birthday every year, claiming that by the time you’re old and wrinkled, he’ll have an entire bouquet from you.

-You try to tell yourself that you keep the tradition going because it’s funny and makes both of you smile…but really, you just love giving him pretty things. Your parents had often given each other flowers to show affection, in the past, finding whatever blooms they could and arranging them into an artful cluster.

-By the time you’re fifteen, you’ve fully accepted that you love him. You’d never tell him, of course, because that would be silly. He’s your best friend, your support, your home, and you couldn’t risk losing someone so important to you over your dumb feelings.

-Though sometimes…you wonder if he feels the same. When his face goes beet red after you hug him, or when he trips over his words as you lean over his shoulder to watch him work.

-But you convince yourself he’d never feel the same. 

-Besides, he’s too smart for the undercity. As you were, there was still a chance he could take off and find a better life somewhere…but if you were involved with each other? There was no way he’d ever leave you, and you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you condemned him to such a fate.

-You continue to hide your feelings as the years pass, and though your chest aches every time you see him, you know it’s for the best.

-Especially when, one afternoon, he receives a letter.

-The two of you are eighteen by then, and already working hard to try and get by. Viktor spends most of his time trying to implement better working environments for the people, encouraging and convincing owners and bosses to make their establishments safer - going so far as to design inexpensive upgrades himself.

-He works tirelessly, as do you, but in your heart you feel as if his work is more important. You’ve mostly abandoned your artistic endeavors, much to Viktor’s displeasure, but he knows as well as you do that sculpting and crafts won’t pay the bills. Even with both of you working full time jobs, you can barely scrape up enough to handle the costs of living - a one room apartment located at the bottom of a set of rickety stairs.

-Neither of you ever got mail, so the heavy envelope comes as a surprise to both of you. Even more shocking, the embossed wax stamp keeping it closed - the insignia of Piltover’s Academy.

-He reads over the contents, and you give him a moment of privacy to do so, instead quietly washing up a few dishes while you stew in your thoughts.

-He hadn’t mentioned anything about applying to the academy…so why did he get such a fancy-looking letter? Did he not want to tell you? Your heart hurts when you wonder why he’d hide something from you.

-When he finishes reading, he calls you over, and shares the news: one of the most influential professors at the academy had seen his work, and heard of his ingenuity and technological prowess.

-He’d been offered a scholarship.

-You rush to hug him immediately, throwing your arms around him in excitement while you gush about all the things he’d be able to learn up there, and how many gadgets and ideas he could create that would help people. But your mood falters when you notice his expression, brows pinched and mouth pressed into a thin line.

- “It’s not for two people,” he tells you, setting the letter down on your tiny kitchen table. “I can’t leave - you’d have nowhere to go.”

-You sigh, and pull up a chair beside him. “Viktor, listen to me,” you say, sliding your hand around his. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you need to take it. The new semester starts in a week, and we’ve got rent covered for the month. I have time to find a new roommate. Okay?”

-His hand tightens around yours, and he stares down for a couple moments, watching pensively as he strokes the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. He looks like he wants to say more, like he’s not told you everything he needs to, but he remains silent.

- “Do you really think I could make it there?” he asks instead, his expression softening as he looks up at you.

-You smile at him. “Of course. You’ll find your people up there - brilliant minds who think like you, who strive to make life better for others. People who are as compassionate as they are smart - like you.”

-It breaks your heart to see him go, and even more to find a way to live life without him as a constant presence, but you know it’s for the best. He deserves the best.

—

-The two of you drift apart over the next couple years, as he focuses most of his attention on learning. He comes to visit you in the undercity sometimes, but it feels so different now that you have some distance between each other.

-You keep trying to tell yourself that this is what needs to happen, but god does it hurt. The way your conversations falter every now and again, unlike how they used to flow so easily. The way he shies away from your gentle hugs and cheek kisses, where in the past he used to crave them. The way he avoids looking you in the eyes and barely tells you anything about what he’s been working on, when in your youth he’d enthuse to you about every tiny project.

-Hell, he barely even writes to you anymore. 

-It’s been weeks now since you’ve heard from him, and even longer since you’d seen his face or heard his voice. His birthday has just passed, and you haven’t even managed to pack up a little gift for him. You barely have anything, nothing he would ever want, and surely your silly little aluminum flowers have grown old by now.

-If he ever even liked them in the first place.

-Tired to the bone, you find a seat at the tilted desk you’d managed to cram into your little apartment. You pull out a slice of paper and a pen, and start writing; telling Viktor all of your feelings - writing about how desperately you missed him, how wholly you loved him, and how utterly despondent you were that you’d never be enough for him.

-And like the dozens of other letters, you never send it. You quietly weep over the piece of paper for a couple minutes, and then turn the light off, slipping into your lumpy bed to try and get as restful a sleep as you possibly could before your alarm goes off.

—

-What you don’t expect is to wake up to the sound of your floors creaking. Or is that- no wait, that’s your chair whining in protest. A noise it made whenever you took a seat in it, gambling on whether or not that would be the last straw for its crooked little legs.

-You pry one eye open to take a look around the room, and instantly find the source of the sound.

-There, hunched over your desk and backlit by a dim candle, is Viktor. He’s turned away from you, focused and staring down at whatever work he’d brought with him on this trip. Which is strange, you think, because he never brings work with him. But you don’t know what else he’d be doing, sitting at your-

-Oh.

-Your stomach leaps into your throat when you realize you’d left your emotionally charged letter out on the desk - the one he was never meant to see. He hadn’t mailed you ahead of time like he usually would, so how were you to know he’d just show up?

-You try to feign sleep, hoping that he’ll believe you, or pity you, or something, and just…leave. Pretend he’d never seen anything.

-But he’s Viktor. In all the time you’ve known him, he’s never skirted around any of his problems…even when the problem was you.

- “I know you’re awake,” he says softly, into the quiet of the room. “Your breathing changed a couple minutes ago - I didn’t mean to wake you, I apologize.”

-You bite the bullet and sit up, pulling yourself to the edge of the bed.

- “Were you going to send this to me?” he asks, scooping up the letter you’d scrawled out the night prior. “It’s an awful lot to hear about in writing-”

- “You weren’t supposed to hear about it at all,” you cut him off, your throat dry from slumber. “I forgot to tuck it away with the others before I went to bed, is all. I had no idea you were going to be here today.”

-He turns to you then, frowning in confusion. “The others?”

-You sigh and flop onto your back. “Yeah. The other stupid letters that I wrote, telling you about my stupid feelings, as if any of it would ever matter.” You roll onto your side, facing away from him and into the wall. “Just forget you ever saw it, okay? I don’t want to hold you back.”

-Your chair creaks again, and then the bed dips behind you. You hastily blink back budding tears, but they continue to sear behind your lashes.

- “All this time, I thought…but you…” Viktor is quiet, his voice cracked and almost disbelieving.

-The bed dips a little further, and then you feel the familiar warmth of his body, laid out and pressed up beside yours, like you did when you were kids.

- “Do you remember when we were children?” he asks. “We used to sit together by the runoffs and make our silly little contraptions. We’d talk, and laugh, and the other kids would look at us like we were aliens.”

-You smile. “I always loved getting to watch you create things. You make it look like an art.”

- “I always wondered why you chose to sit with me. Day after day, the other kids would pass us by, and you…never followed them. You stayed behind in the shadows, with me.” He sounds sad. Even though you can’t see his face, you know that there’s a worried crease in between his brows.

- “I like being with you, Viktor,” you tell him, firm. “Ever since I met you, I knew you were my person. I knew you’d understand me, and care about me, and-” you sniffle, “and I’m sorry I’ve fucked it up now. All I’ve ever done is keep you here, in the undercity - even now that you’ve moved topside, I still make you feel obligated to come back. I’m sorry-”

-The bed creaks behind you, and suddenly his arms are tight around your waist, pulling you as close as you can be without crawling beneath his skin.

- “Shut up,” he hisses, burying his face into your shoulder. “You say it as if you’ve done anything other than make my life worth living. Your kindness, your humor, your resilience…how could you ever hold me back, when you’re the reason for everything I do? Waking, working, learning, creating - all for you. Even if I cannot have you, I can still…I can still give you a better future.”

-Your tears bubble past your eyelashes, as his words sink in - dripping sideways down your cheeks and soaking into the threadbare sheets beneath you. All these years, and he had felt like less? With his brilliant mind and warm heart, and all his drive to spark change in the world?

- “You’re all I want,” you whisper to him. “I’m just…I’m just so scared that you’ll lower yourself to my level-”

- “You’re not worthless,” he argues, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. “You never have been”

-You squirm for a few moments in his arms, until you're able to roll over and face him. The candle is still burning on its little plate on the desk, casting strange flickers of light over the entire room. The tips of Viktor’s hair glow orange, the rest of his face cast into shadow…but you can still see him.

-The shine of his warm amber eyes, staring at you as if you’re…as if you’re his entire world.

- “You’re telling the truth, aren’t you…” you utter, your heart thumping hard in your chest.

- “I’ve never lied to you,” he replies. “And I would never, especially not about this.”

-The two of you settle into silence after that, reveling in each other’s warmth as you press close and entangle. It doesn’t take long before his breathing evens out and he dozes off, but you don’t dare move - you don’t dare risk disturbing the moment.

-You have a more in depth conversation once you both wake up again, laying out your feelings in earnest and trying not to hide when the inevitable flood of tears come. But by the end of it all, you’re on the same page - partners, for as long as you’ll have each other, and muses, your inspiration for all that you do.

[crisps-craft]

Hello, love!! I hope you're doing awesome! Can I please have free reading? If not, it's totally okay! 💐🪷

My initials are DB, emojis that describe me: 🧚‍♀️😖, and i have venus in pisces ♡♡

So can I ask... where will i be 1 year from now? (i don't mean physical place, just how will i be doing.. hope that i will be doimg better than now... i hope you know what i mean♡♡)

Thank you very much and take care!

hi! you too <3 and of course! here are the messages i picked up on :)

Cards: 10 of wands, empress (reverse), king of pentacles, 3 of pentacles, devil, justice, judgement, 3 of wands

You got some very intense cards! But i honestly feel really good about this - these cards are outling your transformation, how you are gonna get there, as well as the root of what is holding you back currently. once we shed illumination on our blockages, we can overcome them :)

when i saw empress in reverse i felt so sad! i think this shows that recently, one of your biggest blockages is a sort of disconnect from the divine feminine. this means that you are currently having trouble receiving and thus in turn - giving. for some reason, this cycle started (it might have been karmic - esp with judgement, justice, and devil) where you were once giving so much but not getting anything in return? i dont know why i keep thinking of a toxic ex or something - or some sort of masculine energy that tried to steal or tread on your divine presence. your sensitivity is a gift - esp with ur venus in pisces! as soon as i saw ur account, i felt such a light, soft, and sweet energy. i felt someone who cries easily - from happiness, sadness, joy - the whole wheel of emotions <3 its beautiful though - i have a pisces moon so i feel ya!

but somehow, now you feel like abundance is somehow cut off or "access denied" from you (immediately after i typed this, i heard "access granted" from your spirit guides!) they want you to remember that yes- you ARE magic. This person who tried to step all over you - i keep seeing this Devil / monster like energy from this person (a player, a liar, a snitch, i heard) who somehow made you (a literal earth angel) feel lesser than

with both 3 of wands and 3 of pentacles (two cards with 3s! yay for synchronicity!) im seeing you pick yourself up off the ground. and yes. you are gonna MAKE IT (even if you dont know what this pertains to right now, you will later ;) i love how cryptic ur guides are these messages are all over the place lmaoo)

im seeing you build what you want to manifest - slowly but surely. with the 3 of wands, you are going to connect again to that inner fire. what is it that I want? you will be asking yourself <-

you will secure material success, security, and stability for yourself, coming from a much stronger, durable, and less easily swayed version of yourself. im so proud of you - you are going to break this karmic cycle. i dont know why i keep getting this message of a toxic masculine energy that caused you to feel this way (if this doesn't resonate, feel free to ignore it :) ) someone who was overpowering, really mean - like verbally aggresive, etc.

but you are going to turn that empress reverse into upright and grow + cultivate the most flourishing, beautiful garden - a garden that recursively nourishes itself from.. itself! isn't that so divine? you have a strong feminine energy (again, if this doesn't resonate, feel free to ignore it if you dont resonate with feminine energy :)) but seriously - i really feel you do. you dress feminine, its really cute. i dont know why i saw curly cute hair. you have a style thats more cute + coquette like. very stylish :) are you blonde? psychic visuals are something im practicing with

you are so strong dont forget this!! you are going to be in alignment - knowing WHO you are, WHAT you want, and best of all? HOW to get it for yourself and by yourself ;)

best of luck love! lemme know if it resonated <3 -crisp

[minsyal]

Just venting I will delete this later

1. Im still working on the next parts of all my fics whilst also writing a few different one shots. I’m hoping to have something content-wise before Christmas or shortly after as my gift to you 💕

2. GOD I HATE MY BOSS. So, he’s just gross, right? Smells all the time, stands too close to you, doesn’t respect boundaries, mouth breather, old and slow. I schedule stuff on my calendar and he schedules over the top of it. I tell him what my plans are for this week given I’m only working 3 days and he acts like I just told him I killed his wife. He doesn’t approve my time off and often pulls the whole “well we have to get X done before I’ll approve that.” He moves slower than a snail and insists I sit in his office while he works. It’s so awful that I’ve almost fallen asleep because of it before. He stares at people with this look on his face that feels like he wants to kill you. Once when he looked at me that way I finally snapped and just went “what!?” to which he replied, “I just look at people like that, I can’t help it.” Uhhh yes you fucking can you stupid boomer. You can work on yourself and the way you present to others. It’s called self improvement. He also takes one day a week off every week under the guise of being sick. Like dude, I wonder why you take every Monday off. Also, when i take a day off sick he announces it to the entire company. He sends out an email to our nearly 50 workers letting them know I’ll be out today because I’m sick. LET MY BUSINESS BE MY BUSINESS. He’s the slowest most incompetent accountant I’ve ever seen and I hate everything about him. When we lost my old boss (who was an angel and honestly the manifestation of Jesus in his work ethic and outward look) my new boss insisted we didn’t need any extra help in the department. Guess what? We haven’t even fucking finalized our financial statements from OCTOBER. OCTOBER?!? ITS DECEMBER. ALMOST THE END. WE HAVENT FINISHED OCTOBER YET. IM DROWNING IN THE INCOMPETENCE. He has gone bankrupt like 5 times and the company I work for still thinks it’s a good hire? The dude can’t handle his own finances, what makes you think he can handle someone else’s???? I mentioned his smell right? He reeks. He smells like he hasn’t showered in days and everywhere he walks it follows. He comes and stands in my cubicle for a second and it stinks up the entire space to the point that I’ve now kept a bottle of frbreeze at my desk that I spray once he’s left. AND IT STILL DOESNT GET RID OF THE SMELL.

Rant over. I want to die. Thanks.

Now back to our regularly scheduled content.

[vampr1x-bl00dx]

Omg!! You have so many fandoms?!1!1!!

Well HI HUN!!! 🩷🩷 if it’s okay, i would love to ask for a match up with Bungo Stray Dogs and Honkai stair rail!

About me: My name is Mera!

I go by She/her, (AFAB) and im Pansexual, although i usually lean towards men, though all my partners have been women!!

Im a Cancer zodiac, and im an INFJ!

Personality:

I have an rbf 🥹 people have told me so many times they are scared to approach me because they think i’ll be a bitch. Later they’ll tell me they love me though!! Pretty much an Ambivert. I’m super awkward and shy at first, and it ends up causing me to be short and blunt without meaning to!! but once I start talking? I never shut up!! I also tend to listen to things, and i try to help in anyway i can, although im not the best comforter. I also think my personality also can change depending on who i hang out with. If i hang out with more introverted people I’ll definitely be more outgoing, and talk to others! But if im with extroverted friends, i’ll tend to stay in my shell. I’m a pretty kind person, but also sensitive. I’d jump in front of a bullet for someone else though. Im a people-pleaser so what other people think of me, i really take into account. Once people get close to me though, i tend to be sassy and have “snarky” remarks, but in a joking way. If my friends have ever spoken out about if it makes them uncomfortable i will immediately stop. Honestly though, i can’t handle seeing someone else in pain- or crying. My heart will literally tear and i’ll start crying with them. I tend to be the “funny” friend- everyone usually laughs at my jokes, but i’ve been called the “mom” friend too, because i start to take into account what other people may need! Hair ties? I have A MILLION!! Advil? Dont worry!! I got some :)

I tend to surround myself with a lot of people also. I love to be in the spotlight (theatre kid alert..)

Hobbies:

Writing match ups !!, Drawing, Dance, Singing and musical theatre. I do Dance a lot and its also caused me to start caring more about myself! I sing all the time too- i take voice lessons :) I’m also a cosmetology student, so i LOVE to do hair, makeup, nails and fashion!! I love to talk about it too!! Theres so many interesting things people don’t know! I’m always listening to music though. The only genres i don’t really listen to is country and rap.

Likes: Honestly I like so many things, but i like sweets, people who give me attention, and i also like- love every color on the rainbow… i LOVE horror movies, and slashers. I love biology, and cos stuff! I might actually be able to go to dubai because of cosmetology :)

Dislikes: Rude people, people who are genuinely just bitchy for no reason. Not really much.

Love Languages: PHYSICAL TOUCH, is the biggest. Im super touch starved and i need someone to hold me!! Quality time too. They go hand in hand for me. Receiving gifts are the worst for me. Ill feel so guilty, but i love to give!

Ideal type: I dont really have an IDEAL type. Pair me with whoever!

Looks: if looks play into anything- i have pretty dark features. Although my skin is very light. Im a ghost in the winter. But whenever i get tanned, i usually have been told i look “Arab” which is a compliment. My hair is pretty much at a level 6, so its a dirty brownish color. I stopped wearing my glasses, but i have brown doe eyes! (If i was a certain “pretty” i’d be deer pretty.)

Im pretty short honestly. 5’1. I also love to wear heels though. I walk in them like its my second nature. My hair reaches around my shoulders, i usually Dont have it long, and i have curtain bangs!

Fun facts:

!! I speak different languages.

My parents are actually immigrants, and english wasn’t my first language lol!!

I major in pre law! So i plan to be a lawyer. - specifically medical malpractice because according to multiple nurses, “i have an eye for medicine.”

i hope this wasn’t too much-!!! 🥺💕 i hope you enjoy writing and matching!! Whenever you get the chance to do it, i’ll happy!!

Hii!!! Thank you so much for requesting!

Okay for the Bungo Stray Dogs request I do happen to see you with

Chuuya Nakahara!

I just feel you two would definitely have a sass off and it’ll 100% be a heated one

You two would also go on like shopping trips and give one another fashion tips (esp with chuuya and his odd obsession with hats/lh)

Though I do see it’ll take a while to allow Chuuya to let you touch him but once he does he’ll let you touch him. Like hugging him or even giving a lil kiss on the cheek.

Now for HSR

I do see you with

Argenti!

I do personally see you two dancing together in a ballroom and having genuine fun with one another

He would also 100% allow you do his makeup seeing that you enjoy it

He’ll also listen to your singing since he’ll think it’s beautiful and would listen to your fashion advice🩷

[juminsmysticmc]

So i had been thinking about this for a while and i apologize coz requests are closed and i'm requesting - you can ignore this if you want :) And anyways, I was thinking that what if mc uses up all of her life savings and stuff to buy Jumin a damn expensive luxury watch as his wedding gift since well Jumin already bought her A LOT of things and she wants to give him something. How would Jumin react to it

Jumin x Mc who spent her life savings to buy Jumin an anniversary gift

Hey hey! This request is really cute and I tried my best to write it so that everyone could enjoy it! Please tell me what you think of it!

,,Are you sure that you want to do it?’’ your older brother asked you, also the person that was a bank clerk who was going to give you your life savings for a single watch. ,,Yes, of course,’’ you nodded, looking down at your wallet. Your parents saved money after your birth for important matters like your driver’s license or your school tuition and you kept saving money in that bank account. And after years, all those hard-working hours, birthday presents, and new years money were finally used - for the person you loved the most.

You and Jumin would soon be celebrating your five year wedding anniversary. A lot of things happened in that time and the two of you had good and stressful times. You argued you cried, you made up, you made love. Jumin and your marriage was an exciting one, filled with happiness and love. Your husband showered you with attention and love, as well as presents. Of course, sometimes you had the feeling that he was giving too much and receiving much less than he deserved, but on the other hand, you always remembered that this was the way Jumin got taught to show love. You loving him, making him dinner, or hugging him while taking a nap made him feel so overjoyed that he didn’t want any presents from you. However, you still had the feeling that you should also give him something special, something that would remind him of you, your marriage, and the happiness that was filling the both of you from day to day. ,,Instead of using all your money, you could give him an heir and my son someone to play with,’’ your brother nagged. ,,You are the one who should just give me the money I saved up, not nag at my decisions,’’ you commented, knowing that he was just being considerate. Besides, Jumin and you were already trying, but neither of you was getting stressed over the fact that you were still left without children. ,,Well, here you are. I hope the watch you are going to buy him is surrounded by gold,’’ he gulped, handing you over the money. You smiled one last time before you left the building and entered driver Kim’s car.

With the limousine and your personal driver, you immediately drove over to your favorite jewelry store to pick up your order:  a very luxurious watch. The leather was high quality. It felt comfortable and soft, just like a second skin. Even the box of the watch was a very special one. You really liked the watch you decided on. ,,Just like you requested, Mrs. Han, I am sure that your husband will like it, especially because this is his favorite brand. It’s very elegant,’’ the vendor said, making you smile. ,,I especially like the gravure,’’ you confessed, your finger touching the date of your wedding day around the new watch. This wasn’t just a simple watch, it was way more. The woman in front of you smiled before you looked up and told her that you would like to pay.

A few minutes later, after you let her put the watch back in its package, you let Driver Kim bring you to a cake shop and grocery shopping, where you made sure to buy the last things for your special day for the coming day. Even though it was Jumin, your husband, and it wasn’t the first anniversary together, this evening felt different. You felt excited, scared, and nervous at the same time. However, you knew that Jumin would surely like the present you got him and you were right.

Jumin didn’t even expect a present from you. When you slowly handed him the box at the dinner table, just before the waiter brought you the dessert, he looked at you with big eyes. ,,My love, what is this?’’ he asked you. His right hand was still over your left hand while his dark eyes looked directly into yours. ,,Open it and find out,’’ you chuckled, biting your lips to observe his every movement. Jumin took his hand from yours and slowly opened the package before he gasped. ,,Is this… you bought me a watch? It’s even my favorite brand…’’ he noticed, looking at you with big eyes. He however maintained his cool, just like always, and smiled at you, making your heart grow warm. ,,I really appreciate it. I love it, Mc, I am so thankful,’’ he whispered, his voice was trembling a bit as he slowly took out the watch to look at it. ,,It even has our date on it,’’ he noticed. ,,I’m glad that you like it, Jumin,’’ you told him honestly, finally feeling relieved seeing his satisfied face. ,,But,’’ Jumin mumbled, looking up. ,,The bank called me earlier today. I still couldn’t check the reason - but I guess this was the reason why you withdraw such a large amount, right?’’ he asked you.

You suddenly felt bad. Was it because he knew the price? Or did you feel as if he noticed that you could barely buy him a watch? ,,I’m happy. I’m going to accept this because you decided to spend your life savings on me,’’ he told you.

,,However Mc, I want you to keep saving money for yourself, and I beg you to not worry about me or about me not being happy because you don’t give me any presents, because this isn’t true at all. My daily present is to see your smiling face, to feel your warm touch, and to be next to you,’’ Jumin told you, taking your hand to give you a kiss. You were touched to tears and nodded. You knew that Jumin wasn’t the kind of man who would feel bad because you didn’t give him anything, but this was still something you had the feeling you had to do and you were happy that Jumin indeed accepted you and didn’t reject it. And the watch was his new favorite possession. Afterward, he bragged about it in the chatroom with a rather blurry picture.

And in every interview, he made sure to mention the watch. It was embarrassing for you, but at the same time, you felt happy that Jumin seemed to like his new watch a lot and his happiness was yours….

ᗰᗩᔕTEᖇᒪIᔕT

21.03.2022 // 21:32 MEST

[okkotszn]

Hii helloo i saw that your request is open and i'm new to your blog also and it's pretty cool!! Can i ask for like a fantasy type for haikyuu?? Like them as seven deadly sins? What sins they are and how they handle it with they meet their soulmate, Your choice of characters!! I hope it makes sense )): take care!!

YEAH SURE IT MAKES SENSE i've never done smth like this with the sins so im gonna try my best :,) my apologies if its not what you expected

haikyuu characters as the seven deadly sins

characters ; tsukishima kei, oikawa tooru, kuroo tetsurō, bokuto kōtarō, tendō satori, kageyama tobio, kenma kozume – their timeskip selves

warnings: slightly suggestive in the lust section for obvious reasons, a few curses here and there but everything else should be fine

notes: i tried my best 😭 anyways i hope you enjoy :D (yes i thought of the obey me! brothers while writing this.)

❦ tsukishima kei as the sin of pride was something he was well known for. he walked with his head held high and with a thick air of arrogance surrounding him. people whispered wherever kei went. one deathly glare would shut them up though, and he would go about his day like normal. of course, never in a million years would kei admit it, but those small comments hurt. even the sin of pride gets a bit insecure at times. but then he met you. you were the one person who actually accepted him for who he was. you could put a smile on his face and there was this softer side of himself that he only showed you. he didn’t let the quiet whispers that followed him everywhere get to him, because the only thing in kei’s head was you. he’d still never tell you that, though.

❦ oikawa tooru was the greediest person one could come across. whether it be money, food, power, etc, he wanted it. oh, that new line of clothes that gucci just came out with? he needs it. and he’ll get it…after pulling a few strings. tooru’s spending habits often leave him broke, but what can he say? it makes him happy seeing that new porsche in his front yard. having you by his side, he’s still greedy, but for something else. your love and affection, of course! he catches you eyeing that new Louis Vuitton bag in the window and it's in your hands a second later. His love language is gift giving, with a hint of physical touch too. please hold him in your arms! tooru is a sucker for that. (just be prepared to be spoiled rotten until he has half a penny left in his bank account)

❦ kuroo tetsurō was known as a master of provocation. is there really anyone better to hold the name as the sin of lust than him? of course he’s slept around, sending flirty winks and sultry smiles towards anyone surrounding him regardless of gender (pan king bc i said so). he has to fulfill his needs somehow! being with you is enough for him though. generally without a partner, he’ll have a couple of one night stands here and there, but always remains devoted to his partner whenever he has one. even if his partner is asexual, that wont make him love you any less. cuddles will happen often, though! he loves praising you and bragging to everyone about his stunning and handsome s/o. tetsurō loves pda, but will always be sure to tone it down a notch if you aren’t comfortable with it.

❦ bokuto kōtarō can get envious very quickly. doesn’t matter with what – if someone gets the last cookie instead of him or if his pet gives someone else more attention than he gets. he will get jealous. he’ll get all whiny and pouty and his emo mode appears often. hugs from you help him of course! if someone flirts with you while kōtarō is around, he’ll wrap his arms around your waste and glare at the person until they walk away. he has two love languages – words of affirmation and physical touch. he tries not to overstep your boundaries and will give you space whenever you need it. he feels a sense of pride whenever someone stares at you and he thinks, “wow. i have an amazing s/o, and they’re all mine.”

❦ tendō satori was a chocolatier, which is both the best and worst job for the sin of gluttony. he makes chocolate and has to try and resist the thought of eating it all up, even when he’s painfully hungry. sometimes his urges got the best of him, and he’d have to redo a very large order of chocolate truffles just as he was about to call his customer and tell them the order was complete. the poor client was so confused as to why it took him longer to complete. you, however, always help him out. you helped him make a stash both of you can eat from whenever he feels a bit hungry while making chocolate! tendō absolutely adores you, the void in his stomach is full when you’re around.

❦ kageyama tobio basically embodied wrath and was always scowling wherever he went. he has an “angry pillow” he keeps in his room that he absolutely beats the shit out of whenever someone strikes a certain nerve in him. his revenge plans are lowkey the best and he always enjoys watching people get what they had coming. even so, you help him keep his anger in control! he cracks the smallest of smiles when he’s with you if nobody is around. if someone bothered him while he was out, he’d go to you and just hug you, face buried in the crook of your neck. doesn’t matter if you’re taller or shorter, tobio will find a way.

❦ kenma kozume was the sin of sloth. his eyes were always drooping and ready to fall into a deep slumber even if he got an abnormally large amount of sleep the night before. it was just so pleasant! warm blanket surrounding him, soft pillow under his head, nothing could beat that comforting feeling. well — maybe the feeling of you hugging him, under the covers with him, soft breath fanning the back of his neck was a clear winner. kenma loves putting his head in your lap as you brush your fingers through his hair as he listens to you talk about your day. his breathing would calm and he’d fall asleep to the sound of your soft humming, only to wake up to you cuddled into his chest.

[writeshite]

Krampusbesuch

Summary:

Running into the woods was never a good idea, much less in the middle of the night, with snow all around. There was also the fact that Tony couldn’t see shit, but hey, impulsive decisions led to shitty situations. At least the weather was nice.

Pairings:

Tony Stark x Krampus!Reader

Words:

Warnings:

Mild Smut

Author's Note:

I was thinking of what to write for Yule; then my gremlin mind was like Krampus!reader. Idk when this is set; let’s just say Tony is alive, he’s thriving, and so is everyone else, except Thanos, fuck him. Other people write fluffy Christmas fics; I, on the other hand, write atrocities like this. Originally this was going to be a naughty or nice kinda fic (if you catch my drift) the I remembered Krampus was a thing and bam! Also I have no idea where this was going but anywho. Enjoy :)

A particular type of curiosity came when one was being watched; for Tony, it came from being a billionaire, then Iron Man, then part of the Avengers. Much of it also came from his love life, or rather lack thereof; being a playboy didn't exactly lend itself to any meaningful relationships. Sometimes he’d hope the person/s he slept with would stay behind, that he’d wake up to find them still there; the closest he ever got to anything like that was with Pepper, but that had barely blossomed before being nipped in the bud. The city didn’t help either; there was still some loneliness despite being surrounded by people. He’d briefly shared these thoughts with Rhodey, who, in turn, suggested Tony take a break from everything. Get away from everything.

His choice had been his family’s old cabin in the Alps, excellent location, skiing, snow, just relax. He’d practically left in the next hour, leaving behind a message of ‘DO NOT DISTURB,’ and with only a handful of people with the knowledge of his plans, he was off. Ten hours and twenty-seven minutes later, and he was in Switzerland; another hour later, and he was standing in the cabin’s foyer, grimacing at the dust gathered everywhere.

Tony dropped his luggage off in the master bedroom, flopping down onto the bed caused a duststorm to encase him, leading to the most irritating sneezing storm he’s ever had. The first order of business; clean-up. As he began the dusting, he took note of the empty kitchen, the second order of business; food. Once Tony was satisfied with his cleaning, he moved on to the food portion of his to-do list; with J.A.R.V.I.S’ oh so lovely input, he had a grocery delivery system set up for his stay, which looked to be up until after New Year’s. The temptation to join the others back in New York was there, but he found it far more appealing to look over the scenery.

Back to the start, the whole being watched thing was something Tony was accustomed to, which is why he almost didn't react to it when he felt like he was being watched. Almost. But after two days of the feeling, he grew sick of it and decided to investigate; by that, he meant sending out a few smallscale drones to do the investigating. The first few came back with nothing notable- a few animals here and there, the occasional person skiing down the mountains - but then he opened the last one and nearly had a heart attack. A prominent dark figure encompassed the image, its form appeared to be running, and as Tony flipped through more of the pictures, he realized it was running at the camera. The last photo was too close for him to make out much, other than a pair of golden eyes.

The drone was in tip-top shape, practically unharmed. Now Tony’s not saying he believes there’s some kind of cryptid thing somewhere in the mountains; he’s a man of logic. So, logically he brushed it off as someone messing around. Promptly, he yelled out his lungs at the mystery person - who might’ve been the one watching him, and if so, by all accounts, this was an idiotic move - he assumed was out in the forest until he was satisfied, and he thought that was that.

Then the gifts (?) started showing up.

If he could even call them gifts, but what else would you call a dead deer on your doorstep? There was also the chopped firewood, snow constructions, wood carvings; if Tony didn’t know any better, he’d say he had an admirer. An admirer who was good at staying hidden. At best, all he could get from security footage was a fast blur here and there. Whoever was leaving him this stuff barely ever got close to the front of the cabin, taking care to keep themselves away from being seen. According to J.A.R.V.I.S, an admirer who may be a stalker and/or possibly, improbably, also be something of a cryptid. Pepper hadn’t been much help either, citing that Tony may be the subject of a werewolf’s affections if her numerous romance books were anything to go by.

“Werewolves aren’t real.”

“Tony, you’re on a team with a literal god and a giant green humanoid, and you don’t think werewolves are real?” Pepper asked in disbelief.

“Who cares about that?! The point is, I’ve got someone leaving me things, and I don’t know what to do about it!” he exclaimed.

“Why don’t you set up one of the suits to get better footage?” Pepper suggested, “Or better yet, come back before whoever this is hurts you.”

“I’ll be fine; besides, who’s stupid enough to take on Iron Man?”

After that, he’d taken the first suggestion, not only using the suits but also the drones. Once he was done, every inch of the cabin’s exterior and nearby forest was under surveillance. Even then, it took two days before he got an answer, but it wasn’t from all that. No, Tony got a live response in the form of two glowing eyes staring at him from outside the kitchen. Naturally, seeing that, he screamed, dropped his glass of wine, and sent out a suit in his stead to confront whatever was out there.

The eyes disappeared as soon as a suit touched down; the sound of thrusters was in the air for a bit before there was silence. Tony found himself standing near the back door, ready to gear up and go himself when he spotted the suit. It was leaned back on a tree, completely unharmed, with ice creeping up its bottom half. Officially, this situation had gone from mildly inconvenient to somewhat slightly terrifying. He was ready to book it to the nearest plane when he caught sight of the eyes again. They appeared almost hesitant; there was a low rumble before the eyes yet again vanished, and against all better judgment, Tony ran in that direction.

Running into the woods was never a good idea, much less in the middle of the night, with snow all around. There was also the fact that Tony couldn’t see shit, but hey, impulsive decisions led to shitty situations. At least the weather was nice.

Of course, as expected, Tony lost his footing, tripping over a branch and nearly sending himself falling off a rather cliff. Though that never happened, a hand shot out and grabbed the back of his shirt, bringing him close to a solid body. Tony glanced up, his eyes meeting the now-familiar golden ones; he squinted his eyes to get a better look at the face. He could vaguely make out horns, pointed ears, and a set of rather sharp teeth from the slightly open mouth.

“Hello,” the stranger’s voice was deep and sent a shiver up Tony’s spine.

Your head tilted to the side as he curiously observed Tony, chuckling lowly as he breathed out a response. “Apologies for the disturbance; it’s been ages since anyone’s been up this side of the mountains.”

“Uh, it’s no trouble, I just didn’t expect to meet,” Tony gestured at you, mimicking horns on his head and fangs, “whatever you are.”

“Most humans know me as Krampus; I deal with the naughty children during this time of year,” you explained.

“So, Santa with horns?”

You sighed, “I suppose, except I don’t do presents. Sometimes I eat naughty children, and if I’m feeling generous, drag them kicking and screaming to hell.”

Tony would’ve taken that as a cue to turn tail and run, where the words not said with a low growl that had his mind supplying rather, shall we say, explicit thoughts. Now, he’s met a lot of people who tickled his fancy. Still, he’s never given being a monsterfucker any thought - then again, the average person probably doesn’t unless you read fanfiction like this, but I digress - but being this close to you was starting to give him some ideas.

“Then why all the, um, stuff around the cabin?” he asked.

“What else is one to do when faced with a vision of beauty?” you replied, pulling him closer. “If they are unwelcome, I can stop.”

There were barely any thoughts running through Tony’s head as of now, at least any useful ones. He stumbled through his words for a bit; he could practically feel the blush rising as you amusingly laughed at his predicament. At this point, he was probably running more on instinct than thought as he flicked your nose, earning him an amused huff.

“Careful,” you warned, “I might find you adorable, but in no way does it prevent me from devouring you.”

Ok, if he wasn’t blushing before, he most certainly was now, “What’s stopping you then?” he dared.

Without warning, he found himself held up by the waist, feet off the ground, and his face level with yours. “Is that what you want, Schatz? Would you like me to ravish you?”

Like any reasonable person, Tony agreed when faced with the proposition of sex from a devilishly handsome man in the middle of the woods. Quite enthusiastically. Your grip on his waist moved to hold his thighs, settling them around your waist. Your face moved to his neck, dragging your nose along his pulse and drawing out a breathless sound from the man in your arms.

“What was that?” you asked after he murmured a response.

“T-Tony. My name. And yes, if i-it’s not too much trouble, I’d love to be ravished, right this instant,” he sputtered, “please.”

He barely finished the last word as your lips caught his, tilting your head slightly to get your tongue space to explore. After a while, you move on to his neck, open mouth kisses and small bites strewn along as Tony’s moans fill the surrounding forest. At one point, he bites his lip to silence himself, but a well-placed bite brings the sounds back. Your claws make quick work of his pants; you half-heartedly apologize before inserting one finger. Slowly but surely, you add more two more fingers, increasing the pace; you move forward to support Tony’s body. Your tail comes up to hold him as your other hand moves around to take hold of his cock.

After two orgasms, Tony’s head was slumped to the side, his breathing slightly labored. You moved him from the tree to the forest floor, positioning yourself and slowly moving forward; the head of your cock went in, causing him to whimper slightly; you muttered words of encouragement into his skin. Stopping every so often to get him used to the feeling. Once it was all in, you didn’t move; Tony breathlessly told you to proceed, you drew out and back in, again and again. The thrusts were slow at first, picking the pace to become faster until growls and moans accompanied the sound of flesh against flesh. No words are exchanged aside from the occasional ‘fuck’ here and there; your movement halts as you release a load, and soon enough, you’re collapsing on top of Tony.

You come down from the bliss to hands roaming up and down your horns, “Next time, I want to hold these while riding you.”

“Next time?” you raised a brow, head moving up to glance at him.

“I’d like to hope I’m more than just a one-off for you,” Tony commented.

“I assumed you’d be returning to your home after this,” you replied, “but if you don’t mind, I’d be happy to follow along.”

“Good.” he exhaled. “Because after that, I don’t think I’d be able to settle with anyone else. Now, if you got us back to the cabin, we could go for round two.”

End Note:

I'm not saying Tony is a monsterfucker, but like idk what else to tell you. You're welcome though for this mess. Hope you enjoyed my shite. Stay Hydrated.

[kpopfanfictrash]

Raise the Barre (Epilogue)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Contributor: @baebae-goodnight​ for the last Raise the Barre moodboard TT she nailed it

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: sexual content. Dry humping, fingering, hand job, oral (female), breast play, multiple orgasms, Jimin gets turned on by making someone else come, dirty talk. Jimin’s pants are tight.

Word Count: 13,409

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.  

“And… more pointe shoes,” you said, opening the box in your lap. “Wow. Thanks, mom and dad.”

Your dad laughed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You’re welcome, kiddo,” he said, nodding from the couch. “I know Russet gives you some already, but you can never have too many.”

“Out of curiosity.” You glanced at the tree. “Are there any boxes from you which aren’t related to dance?”

“Not related to dance…” Your mom pretended to think. “I don’t understand.”

“Mom!”

She laughed. “I’m kidding! Yes, there are other presents. You just happened to pick all the pointe shoe boxes first.”

Shaking your head, you placed the box aside. You smiled though, warmth in your chest at being home for the holidays. Classes at Russet had ended a week prior and it had been nice for a few days to simply relax. Already though, you found yourself itching to return to the city. It was strange to wake every morning and not head to ballet. It was even stranger to take classes at your old studio, trying to stay in shape before second semester began.

Playing with the string of your sweatpants, you couldn’t help glancing at your phone on the couch. It had been several days since you’d last seen Jimin in person. Oddly enough, the separation had been harder than you’d thought it would be.

Immediately after ending things with Finn, you and Jimin had tried to keep your distance. The pain of your separation had been too fresh to even consider dating someone else but, as time had gone on, you and Jimin had started becoming friends again.

It was hard not to be, with Jimin continuing as your dance partner and classmate. At the end of the semester, you’d had the opportunity to switch partners, but you and Jimin had chosen the status quo. It just made sense this way; you couldn’t think of anyone else you’d trust as much as him.

At first, things between you were strictly professional. You saw him only within the confines of the dance studio but eventually, his presence bled into your normal life. At first, the outings were small. Jimin went to a pregame you also attended. He saw you once at the coffee shop and, instead of running away, he stopped to chat. One time, he walked you back to your dorm.

When the month became December, you found your outlook improving. Most of November had been spent wallowing in your dorm, but the holiday season brought with it endless activities. The very first weekend of the month, a bunch of your Russet friends decided to go ice skating and you’d ended up tagging along.

The biggest problem had been you’d never ice skated before. Noelle had been patient, skating backwards in front of you and dragging you around the rink. Jimin had done the same thing for Hoseok, who was in a similar predicament to yours, and at some point, they swapped partners and left you skating with Jimin.

When he’d taken over for Noelle, your stomach had swooped. Hands touching, he’d led you gently around the edge and the world had seemed to still. It had been the first time you’d felt anything stir outside of your break-up. Whatever hurt and distance had sprung between you, it seemed something had survived between you and Jimin.

Nose red, Jimin had smiled as he skated backwards. “It’s easy,” he’d told you. “You just swivel, Y/N. In and out, in and out. Got it?”

“Um, no!” you’d yelped, nearly crashing to the ice when Jimin let go of your hands.

He’d laughed, catching you easily and skating like that for a while. Eventually, Jimin had helped you off the rink and gotten hot chocolate, which you insisted on buying. Payback, you said, for the impromptu skating lessons.

That day had been a turning point for you both. Throughout the month prior, you’d texted sporadically but after, you seemed to talk every day.

Jimin even offered to drive you home from Russet, given the fact that your hometowns were so close together. After much hemming and hawing, you’d eventually taken him up on the offer. The savings it gave your bleeding bank account were well-worth the potential discomfort.

This had led to both the best and worst twenty-four hours of your life.

Best, because Jimin was an excellent road trip companion. He let you choose the music, laughed at all your dumb jokes, and agreed to play the road trip games you suggested. You’d already made a firm rule not to compare Jimin to any past boyfriends but couldn’t help but note this as an improvement over anyone prior.

The sole reason the twenty-four hours were also painful was because you stopped at a hotel halfway through. It was either this or drive until 3:00 AM, so you chose the smarter option and rested for the night. You and Jimin bought separate bedrooms, but they’d ended up next to one another, so you’d been forced to spend a sleepless night imagining Jimin separated from you only by a thin sheet of plywood.

You had told yourself this was silly. At Russet, Jimin hadn’t been much further away, but something about the closeness in the hotel made you nervous. It was infinitely easier to forget about boundaries when you were separated by only a car console for hours at a time. Infinitely easier to forget the rules when you were outside of Russet, cocooned by his car and the snow.

You couldn’t help but think about the one kiss you’d shared.

That had only been a taste, barely a teaser, but the memory kept you awake for more nights than it probably should have. You couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to kiss Jimin again, under different circumstances.

Groaning, you’d covered your face with a pillow that night and tried your best to sleep. It hadn’t really worked, and you’d shown up at the car the next morning with dark shadows beneath your eyes.

Forcing yourself back to the present, you glanced away from your phone and focused on the tree – only to see its screen light up in your peripheral. Grabbing your phone, you realized Jimin had texted. Stifling a smile, you scrolled through the conversation until you found his last message.

Jimin: MERRY CHRISTMAS! [10:23 AM]

Jimin: 

Y/N: oh my god everything’s so... coordinated lol how long did that tree take to set up?  [10:24 AM]

Y/N: and merry Christmas 😊  [10:24 AM]

Jimin: not long at all. I just googled ‘christmas trees’ and that was the first one I found  [10:24 AM]

Y/N: ha ha hilarious  [10:25 AM]

Y/N: so, what are the Park family plans for the day?  [10:25 AM]

Jimin: the usual. Opening presents, going to my grandparents later for dinner. What about you?  [10:25 AM]

Y/N: same, minus the grandparents. We usually have a pretty low-key day  [10:26 AM]

Jimin: sounds nice  [10:26 AM]

Jimin: what’s your favorite present so far  [10:27 AM]

Y/N: 

Jimin: LOL  [10:30 AM]

Jimin: how many of them did you get? I’ve gotten two new dance bags and seven pairs of black leggings. It’s like our parents have forgotten we do anything else  [10:31 AM]

Y/N: no new dance belts? 😈  [10:32 AM]

Jimin: Y/N, I’m shocked  [10:35 AM]

Jimin: mind out of the gutter. Stop thinking about my junk  [10:35 AM]

Y/N: as your dance partner, I have a vested interest in your junk. What if it breaks free in the middle of practice?  [10:38 AM]

Jimin: the more delicate ladies would faint, I imagine  [10:41 AM]

Jimin: and probably Paulo  [10:41 AM]

Y/N: lmao  [10:43 AM]

Y/N: but seriously, I hope you get presents other than dance gear  [10:43 AM]

Jimin: back at you haha  [10:47 AM]

Y/N: I can’t help but notice you didn’t get me, your dance partner, a Christmas gift though  [10:50 AM]

Jimin: was the drive home not enough?  [10:50 AM]

Y/N: oh, shoot. You’re right! You did get me a Christmas gift  [10:51 AM]

Y/N: I’m the one who’s been remiss  [10:51 AM]

Jimin: don’t forget about my housewarming gift, too  [10:52 AM]

You smiled, sitting back on the sofa. Jimin was lucky enough to be moving off campus second semester. He, Hoseok and Alex Wong were moving into an apartment not far from Paulo’s. You and Noelle had decided to stay in Grace Hall, but you’d talked about moving someplace else next year.

Jimin was heading back early to move into his new place, so you’d need a different ride on your return trip to Russet. Still, you were looking forward to Jimin’s apartment hosting parties in the new year.

Y/N: don’t get greedy on me now, Park  [10:54 AM]

“Who’re you texting?”

Jerking your head up from the screen, you nearly dropped your phone. From the couch opposite, your mom gave you a knowing look.

“No one,” you said hastily, setting your phone aside.

“Oh, really?” She glanced with your dad. “No one wouldn’t happen to have dark hair, his own car and excellent table manners, would he?”

Immediately, you felt your face heat.

When Jimin drove you home before Christmas, your parents had insisted on feeding him before he continued to Harleigh Heights. This had led to the weirdest double date of your life – which was, in fact, not a date – including you, Jimin and your parents for dinner. Luckily, your parents had been great and Jimin hadn’t cared, but you’d been endlessly mortified for your first date with Jimin to have included your parents.

Not that you’d called it a date. When Jimin had left that night, you’d brushed it aside and he’d simply gone along with it. After Jimin had left, you’d gone to your room and wondered what the hell you were doing. It was clear you still liked Jimin and wanted to be more than just friends. Still, something continued to hold you back.

You weren’t sure when it was considered appropriate to move on. The line seemed fuzzy, so you hadn’t dared cross it and Jimin hadn’t asked. You got the feeling you needed to be the one to make the first move – which made sense. You’d been the one who asked for more time. You’d told Jimin you’d say when you were ready.

Any next steps would have to come from you.

It had been weird to go home and not see Finn. His house was only fifteen minutes away from yours – you’d driven past it on your way to the grocery store last week. Still, seeing his home hadn’t caused the pain you’d expected. It was strange not to see him, but more like you’d forgotten something you needed to do, as opposed to missing his actual presence.

If you were being honest, Finn had crossed your mind less and less lately. Possibly because you’d been falling out of love with him long before you’d broken up in November.

Still, it would be unfair to jump into something before you were ready. You’d already hurt Jimin once this past fall and were determined not to do so again. No matter how good things had been lately between you, you didn’t want to make the mistake of dating Jimin too soon.

Despite this, things had become flirtier between you as of late. Exhibit A: casual text conversations about Park Jimin’s junk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said lightly.

Your dad laughed as he stood from the couch. “Alright, then,” he said, grabbing another gift. “How about you open this one next?”

Accepting the thin package he handed over, you frowned. The box wasn’t large and, shaking it slowly, you heard no sliding inside.

“I swear,” you said as you began to undo the bow. “If you wrapped your passport photo again, dad...”

Laughing, he settled back on the couch by your mom. “It’s not that, I promise.”

Grumbling, you opened the box and immediately froze. Staring at the paper inside, you slowly looked up. “Is this… is this what I think it is?”

“It’s a plane flight,” your mom said with a smile. “I know we’re supposed to drive you back on the third, but we thought you might want to celebrate New Year’s with your friends.”

“But…” Speechless, you returned to the box. “We always hang out together on New Year’s Eve.”

“I know,” said your dad. “But maybe it’s time to start some new traditions, kiddo.”

With that, he stood and took his mug to the kitchen. Sensing he wasn’t needed for this conversation any longer, he began washing dishes and to prepare breakfast. Once he was gone, your mom moved to your couch and settled beside you.

“I… this is too much,” you said, immediately backpedaling.

“It’s not.”

“Well…” Hesitant, you considered the possibilities. “I guess Ari will be in the city for New Year’s Eve. Maybe Noelle, too. She mentioned she might go back early.”

Gently, your mom smiled. “That’s great if you want to hang out with them, but… didn’t Jimin mention going back before New Year’s?”

Startled, you glanced up. You were surprised she’d remembered. Jimin had mentioned it briefly at dinner last week – he’d said he was moving off campus, which was why he’d needed to return home to pack.

“I – he might have,” you said cautiously.

“I see.” She paused. “I just… I don’t want you feeling like you need to hold yourself back, honey.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Your mom glanced meaningfully at your phone. “I’m glad you’re taking time to yourself,” she said slowly. “It’s important to know who you are and what you want. But also – don’t feel like you need to follow someone else’s timeline when it comes to moving on.”

“I know, but…” You trailed off. “We only broke up in November.”

She shrugged. “Only you know when you’re ready, honey. I just don’t want you to keep punishing yourself for something that’s over. You’re allowed to be happy, even if you’ve messed up in the past.”

Swallowing, you glanced again at the gift. The plane ticket was for the day before New Year’s Eve. Plucking it from the box, you sat back on the couch.

“But…” you said lowly. “Mom, it’s only been two months.”

“And are you still in love with Finn?”

“No.”

“And did you learn anything from what happened this fall?”

“I… Yes. A lot.”

“Good.” Reaching out, she squeezed your hand. “Learn the lessons you need to learn, and then move on. Self-flagellation isn’t productive, Y/N.”

You nodded, still uncertain about what she was saying. Her words made sense, but everything she was saying uncovered a dormant fear. You were scared. Scared of hurting someone else, scared of being hurt by someone else in return. Your last relationship had ended so badly, it was hard to convince yourself it might be worth it to try again.

Finally, you turned to face her on the couch. “Does it ever get any easier?” you asked. “This fear of being hurt… does it ever go away?”

Something sad passed over her face. “Yes and no,” she said, pulling back her hand. “You’ll never be as innocent as you were in your first love. There’s something special about loving someone and never having been hurt before. Once you’ve gone through that kind of pain, you aren’t the same after. But… it does get easier. And better. You’ll know more about how to support this time, instead of tearing down. How to make a love stronger, instead of hanging on.”

Something about this speech gave you comfort, and you slowly nodded. Again, what she said made sense but if there was one thing you’d learned from the fall, it was no matter how great the advice was, it was impossible to take if you weren’t ready to hear it.

You continued wondering if the risk would be worth it. No matter how much you felt for Jimin, you couldn’t help but remember how you’d felt breaking up with Finn. You hadn’t been in love with him at that point and it had still been so painful. It was terrifying to imagine loving someone again and having things end the same way.

Your mom was right, though. You couldn’t keep punishing yourself for something you couldn’t change. There were several ways you could move on from here. The main question to ask yourself was whether you wanted Jimin in the picture.

“Alright,” you said softly. “Thanks, mom.”

“Anytime.” Smiling, she stood and dusted off her pants. “I’m going to see if your dad needs help making breakfast. Don’t be too long, now!”

You nodded, watching her go, and then glanced at the ticket. Your mom’s words continued to run through your mind and after a moment, you picked up your phone.

Jimin had texted back.

Jimin: I would never!  [10:57 AM]

Y/N: hey, so  [11:01 AM]

Y/N: I did get one non-dance gift this year. A plane flight the day before New Year’s Eve  [11:02 AM]

Jimin: oh, wow! That was really nice of your parents  [11:03 AM]

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes. When you opened them, you found yourself newly determined.

Y/N: when do you get back again?  [11:03 AM]

His ellipses started, then stopped, then started again.

Jimin: December 28th  [11:04 AM] 

Y/N: what are your New Year’s Eve plans?  [11:04 AM]

For a moment, he didn’t respond, and you felt your heart catch. Maybe you’d misread things. Maybe Jimin had moved on and didn’t care about you anymore. Maybe he didn’t want you to tell him you were ready.

Jimin: I’m free 😊  [11:05 AM]

Jimin: want to be my New Year’s Eve date?  [11:05 AM]

Smiling ear to ear, you responded.

Y/N: yes. Please  [11:06 AM]

On the actual day of New Year’s Eve, you found yourself stressed beyond belief. Standing in front of the mirror of your dorm room, you adjusted your dress and worried over the hemline. Jimin had arranged to meet you around 7:00 PM and it was dangerously close to 6:55.

“Is the dress too short?” you asked, turning a little to face Noelle. “It is New Year’s Eve in the city. Should I wear pants, or something? Will I be cold?”

Noelle considered, then shrugged. “Just drink more. Problem solved!”

Snorting, you turned back to the mirror. Nervously, you smoothed down the front of your dress. You’d bought it at an after-Christmas sale and had fallen instantly in love. It had seemed perfect at the time, but now you were having second thoughts about the thin straps and tight bodice.

“Alright, so Y/N.” Noelle changed the subject. “Here’s the plan. Are you listening?”

Hiding a smile, you adjusted an earring. “Listening.”

“Good. Okay, so Ari and I will be at a party uptown. If the date goes badly, just say the word and we’ll call you a cab. You can be ringing in the new year with us within the hour.”

“Perfect,” you said. “It’s good to have a back-up.”

“It is.” Noelle paused. “Not that I think you’ll need this, of course.”

“Well, you never know.”

“Please.” She snorted. “What’s Jimin going to do? Be too charming? Too respectful of boundaries? Wear pants that show off his ass a little too much?”

“Noelle!”

She laughed, coming to a stop alongside you. Noelle wore a sparkly dress which made her skin glow, although this may have been the glitter dusted over her shoulders. Looking at herself in the mirror, she fluffed her hair.

“Seriously,” she said, meeting your gaze. “You’re going to be fine.”

“I know, I know.” Shaking out your arms, you forced yourself to exhale. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. It’s been a long time since I went on a first date.”

Noelle considered. “That’s true. Allow me to give you some dating tips, then.”

Laughing, you turned around and sat on the futon. “By all means.”

“Alright – number one.” Noelle removed lipstick from her purse. “Don’t order anything with garlic. I know, that sucks because garlic is everything, but no one wants to make out while they have garlic breath. Rule number two!”

“Whoa, whoa,” you said. “Who said anything about making out?”

Noelle gave you a pointed look. “Just in case it should happen…”

Shaking your head, you sunk back on the futon, but you knew she was right. Tonight was New Year’s Eve, after all. Ideally, you’d like to do more than kiss Jimin, but this seemed like too much of a jinx to say out loud.

Mentally, you agreed to the ‘no garlic’ rule.

“What else?” you prompted.

“Let’s see.” Noelle began to reapply her lipstick. “Relax.”

“What?”

Glancing at you in the mirror, she raised both brows. “I can see your shoulders tensing from here, babe. Just relax, okay? Tonight will be fine. You’re just hanging out with Jimin. You’ve done that before.”

“I know,” you groaned, lowering your face to your hands. “For some reason though, I’m very aware of the ‘date’ aspect of tonight. I don’t know why.”

When you looked up, Noelle gave you a sympathetic look, but before she could say more there came a knock at the door. Half-standing, you moved to open it, but Noelle shooed you back.

“Rule number three,” she said as she crossed the room. “Never answer the door for your own date.”

“What?” you laughed, although you sat back down on the futon.

Grabbing the handle, Noelle pulled open the door. Blocking you from view, she leaned her shoulder against the frame.

“Password?”

“What?” came Jimin’s voice, sounding confused.

“That’s correct!” Noelle stepped aside.

As you stood, you saw Jimin for the first time. He wore a pea coat over his outfit, his dark hair pushed back from his face in a devastating manner. When he saw you, Jimin froze, and you saw his eyes widen.

Silently, you congratulated yourself on having picked the right outfit. His gaze slowly trailed your body, lingering in places which made your cheeks heat. When he returned to your face, he slowly exhaled.

“Hey,” he said. “You… you look beautiful.”

Smiling back, you found yourself at a loss for words. “So do you.”

Jimin grinned and you stood there, smiling at each other like idiots until Noelle cleared her throat.

“Well,” she said, side-stepping Jimin to grab her coat. “I’m going to head over to Ari’s. You kids be safe, okay?”

“We will,” you laughed.

Noelle left in a flurry of kisses and glitter, waving goodbye as she stepped out the door. Jimin turned to face you once she was gone, offering a smile.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked. “I brought you these.”

From behind his back, he pulled out pink peonies, which made you gasp. They were your favorites, a little limp from the cold, but still beautiful. Taking them gently from him, you turned them over in your hands.

“They’re wonderful,” you said happily. “Thank you.”

Jimin smiled. “I’m glad you like them.”

Glancing around, you found a clean glass near the sink and filled this with water. Arranging the peonies on your desk, you took a step back and cocked your head. You’d always thought the idea of flowers on dates was kind of cheesy, but now that you’d experienced it in person, it seemed unimaginably sweet.

“There,” you said, turning back. “All set.”

Jimin smiled at this, then glanced at your bare arms. “You’re going to be cold without a coat,” he said. “That’d be a bad way to start off the new year.”

“Oh – duh,” you said, hurrying towards your wardrobe.

Pulling a coat out, you slipped this over your dress and buttoned the front. As you left the room, you turned off the lights and shut the door behind you. Jimin walked with you down the hall, continually glancing your way from the corner of his eyes.

You felt oddly shy, despite this being Jimin beside you. Jimin, who you’d known since you were teenagers. Jimin, who’d been both the utter bane of your existence, along with the single person you trusted most in the world. He’d tossed you up in the air and caught you no question and somehow, this felt like the most daring thing you’d ever done.

It was strange to walk beside him, out on a date whose future held a large question mark. Excitement and uncertainty warred in your stomach, which only seemed to exacerbate the situation. You felt as though you stood on the edge of a precipice, staring into a ravine with no discernable bottom.

As you left the building, snowflakes swirled in the sky up above and you looked up in surprise.

“Oh,” you exhaled, breath frosting before you. “I didn’t realize it was snowing!”

“Yeah.” Jimin grinned, tilting back his head. “Snow is my favorite weather, actually.”

“The wet and the cold does it that much for you, huh, Park?”

“That, and the romance of it all.”

Your smile softened a little as you fell into step alongside him. The snow continued to drift as you walked, melting as soon as it touched the pavement.

“So, where are we going?” you wondered, glancing at him. “You said you’d tell me once you picked me up and I’ve got news for you, Jimin. I’m here. I’ve been picked up.”

“Right, sure.” He shoved both hands in his pockets. “I made a reservation at this restaurant around the corner. The food’s really good so I hope you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Huh.” Jimin paused. “That was easy.”

You shrugged. “I’m just excited for tonight. That’s all.”

His gaze softened a little when he glanced at you. “Me, too.”

Smiling, you continued to walk alongside him. New Year’s Eve in the city was a grand affair. The sidewalks were still lit with holiday lights, people hurrying past in brightly colored coats. Privately, you were glad Jimin had made a reservation at a restaurant instead of trying to brave a club or a bar. You’d heard horror stories from people who paid extravagantly to get into a club, only to spend the entire night waiting in line at the bar.

Turning the corner, you saw the restaurant Jimin had chosen and brightened. It was one you’d walked past several times and always wanted to try but had never found time.

Jimin held open the door as you entered. The inside still had their holiday decorations up, garland strung across every surface with tiny, white fairy lights hung up above. Everyone who was dining wore formal attire, laughing and chatting in the glow of the fireplace. The food smelled amazing and immediately, your mouth watered.

Joining the line at the hostess stand, you waited for the couple before you to leave and then Jimin stepped up.

“Park,” he told her. “Party of two.”

The hostess smiled, nodding as she flipped through her notebook. “One moment, please.” The longer she looked though, the more her face fell. After a moment, she glanced up. “Park, you said?”

“Yes.” Jimin nodded. “P-a-r-k.”

The woman nodded, flipping through her notebook again as though the name might magically appear.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, glancing up again. “There seems to be some kind of mistake. I don’t have you listed as a reservation.”

Jimin’s expression faltered. “Can you look again?” he asked, leaning forward.

The hostess nodded, running her finger down the numbered rows. “I can’t find you anywhere. Do you remember who you spoke with on the phone?”

“Rebecca.”

“Oh.” Her face immediately fell. “Rebecca left the restaurant last week. It seems a few reservations slipped through in the transition. Is there… well, before I do that – let me see what I can do,” she blurted out, turning around to rush into the restaurant.

Jimin watched her disappear and you saw his expression tighten.

Silence fell between you as you adjusted your coat. Jimin looked stressed and you weren’t sure what you should do about it. Frantically, you tried to remember times he’d been stressed during class, but before you could do or say anything, the hostess returned.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, looking harried. “The restaurant is completely booked up. I was trying to see if we could squeeze you in, but there’s just no room. I’m so sorry. Normally, only one person does the reservations, but we’ve been so busy lately...”

“It’s fine,” you said, jumping in. The poor woman looked like she was about to burst into tears. “Please, don’t worry about it. We’ll figure something out.”

Jimin glanced at you, surprised, and then nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed, returning to the hostess. “Thank you so much for your help – I appreciate you trying. We actually have a back-up reservation somewhere else, so don’t worry. We’ll come back another time!”

“Oh, really?” Her entire face brightened. “That’s so good to hear. New Year’s Eve, and all. Thank you for being understanding!”

“Yes, busy night,” Jimin said with a smile. “Take care of yourself!”

The woman nodded, seeming grateful when you stepped out of line. Jimin followed your footsteps, heading towards the door and then came to a stop. Slowly, he exhaled.

“So,” you said, turning to face him. “Where are these back-up reservations?”

Jimin winced and met your gaze. “I have none,” he admitted. “She just looked so sad. I wanted to put her out of her misery.”

“Wait.” Piecing this together, you paused. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he said miserably. “I only made reservations here and that was super lucky, considering most places in the city have been booked for weeks. I don’t have any back-up plans.”

For a moment, you could only stare. “So, you said all that just so that poor hostess wouldn’t worry about a mistake her restaurant made?”

“I – well, yeah.”

You stared another moment, then started to laugh. It started out small but grew until eventually, you were wiping tears of mirth from your eyes.

Jimin watched you laugh, seeming thoroughly confused. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just…” Shaking your head, you paused to catch your breath. “You’re unreal. Most people would be super stressed about New Year’s Eve plans falling through, but here you are lying to make a hostess’ night better.”

He blinked, still uncertain. “I’m… sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize!” you insisted as you straightened. “It’s… wonderful,” you said to him shyly. “I like that about you.”

Slowly, his expression changed. “I really don’t have other plans, though,” he admitted. “I wasn’t lying about that. And I am stressed about my reservation falling through. I wanted this night to be perfect.”

The sweetness of this made your heart start to melt and newly determined, you nodded.

“We can fix this,” you said. “We’ll just go somewhere else.”

“Like where?”

“Like...” You paused. “We could hang out at my dorm. Or at your apartment! One of our kitchens has to be free, right? We could make dinner and hang out, watch the ball drop.”

“We could go to my place,” said Jimin slowly. “Hoseok and Alex are at a New Year’s Eve party uptown. We’d have the kitchen to ourselves.”

“Perfect,” you said. “Let’s go there.”

“I should warn you, though – I can only really cook one thing.”

“Spaghetti-o’s?”

“Okay, two things.”

You laughed. “So, what’s the first thing?”

“A pasta dish they taught us in Senior Foods class. But it’s nothing fancy.”

“Perfect.” You shrugged. “That will go nicely with my contribution of store-bought bread and olive oil.”

Jimin started to grin. “Alright, then, it’s settled. Let’s go to my place.”

You smiled when he opened the door, following him onto the sidewalk. Jimin’s new apartment was a few blocks away, but time passed quickly with him beside you. Oddly enough, the mishap at the restaurant seemed to have cleared some of the lingering awkwardness.

Noelle had been right, you realized – you had nothing to worry about while you were with Jimin.

He talked while you walked, detailing the ongoing fight at his apartment about some posters Hoseok wanted to hang. This segued into the general ridiculousness of New Year’s Eve – a topic you wholeheartedly agreed with.

“It’s stressful,” Jimin complained as you walked. “Everyone’s always asking about your resolution, you need to find someone to kiss at midnight, and there’s that super awkward moment with the countdown and your date…”

You laughed, grabbing a basket as you entered the grocery store. Jimin had suggested you stop by, since he didn’t have much food at his place.

“Doesn’t the countdown make it easier?” you joked. “It really dumbs the whole process down. Fool-proof.”

“Well, sure,” Jimin said. “But then you end up staring awkwardly at someone for ten seconds while you slowly lean forward and wonder when you should blink.”

Laughing, you reached on tiptoe for a loaf of bread. “Alright, you got me there,” you admitted. “I’ve never had a proper New Year’s Eve, anyways. I’ve always been dating someone and then, it’s just kind of assumed you’ll kiss. None of the magic you see in the movies.”

Jimin nodded. “Most of that’s just movie magic, though. You aren’t missing much – trust me.”

“I don’t know,” you said as you turned the next corner. “The anticipation sounds kind of nice. Wondering if someone will kiss you back, if they’re thinking about you the same way you are…”

Jimin made a humming noise, low in his throat.

Coming to a stop, he reached overhead to grab some pasta. Putting this in your basket, Jimin casually brushed your arm as you met his faze. Fighting back a shiver, you tried to remember what you’d been saying.

Giving a smile, Jimin continued forward and kept shopping. You stared after him a moment before your gaze dropped to his ass. Inhaling quickly, you remembered Noelle’s comment about Jimin’s tight pants. She hadn’t been wrong about that. Hurrying along, you quickly caught up.

Grabbing another jar, Jimin placed this in the basket. When he caught your eye again, he grinned, his hair falling forward. The sight made your heart flip-flop in your chest.

As you entered the check-out line, Jimin came to a stop alongside you. His gaze traveled the store, eyes widening when he glanced over your shoulder.

“What’s that?” Jimin gasped.

Startled, you turned. “What’s – hey!” you blurted when he took your basket.

Grinning widely, Jimin placed the food before the cashier. “Too slow.”

“Jimin, come on,” you said, slightly flustered. “I can pay. I –”

“You can pay next time, if you want.”

This shut you up and you stared at him a moment before you stepped forward.

“There’s… going to be a next time?” you said.

Jimin glanced in your direction. “If you want there to be.”

“I do,” you said softly, and he smiled.

Taking another step forward, he pulled out his wallet to pay and you let him – this time, anyways. Outside, it seemed to have grown colder since your arrival and you shivered as you exited the shop. Noticing this, Jimin immediately undid his scarf from around his neck.

“Here,” he said, handing it over. “I don’t need this.”

“But then you’ll be cold,” you pointed out, accepting it anyways.

“I’ll jog in place to keep warm.”

“… With me walking beside you?”

“Yep.”

You laughed, even more so when Jimin began to demonstrate. He jogged for a few steps, then slowed to a walk.

“Changed my mind,” he said with a wince. “I’d rather be cold.”

You laughed, cheeks starting to hurt from both this and the wind. Jimin’s apartment wasn’t far, although it did turn out to be a third-floor walk-up. This left you slightly winded when you arrived at his place, to which Jimin shrugged and said the rent had been cheap.

Opening his front door, he led the way into – boxes. Tons of them, although most of the furniture had been set up around them. Jimin fumbled for a light, flicking this on and setting down the groceries.

“Most of the boxes are Alex’s,” he sighed, looking around. “Hoseok and I have a secret deal we’re going to unpack him ourselves if he doesn’t do it by Monday.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a detriment to Alex.”

“I never said what we planned on doing with his things once we unpacked.”

You laughed, undoing your coat to set aside. Glancing around, you saw Jimin was right. Most of the boxes were scrawled in the same handwriting. Beyond them, you saw the living room had been mostly set up with a couch and TV.

To your right lay the kitchen, in which Jimin was already unloading the groceries. Beyond him was a hallway, through which you assumed were their bedrooms and bathrooms. Wandering back to Jimin, you realized he was staring.

“What?” you said, coming to a stop. “Did I spill something on my dress in the store?”

“No,” Jimin murmured, shaking his head. “I just… I know I said this before, but you really do look incredible.”

“Oh.”

Looking at him, you felt your face growing hot. Jimin smiled and ducked his head, resumed pulling things out of the bag. Stepping from your shoes to place in the hall, you returned to the kitchen and pulled out a stool.

Sitting down, you propped your chin in your hand. “Aren’t you going to take off your coat?”

Glancing down, Jimin blinked. “Oh,” he laughed, undoing the buttons. “I forgot I was wearing it.”

You smiled, but this quickly disappeared when you saw what he was wearing. Jimin had worn a dark blazer and trousers, paired with a paisley shirt and black boots. He looked ridiculously good and again, Noelle’s comment about his ass came to mind.

She’d been correct – his pants were well-shaped and well-formed.

After removing both coat and shoes, Jimin returned to the kitchen and pushed a hand through his hair. You watched him get to work, leaning forward a bit when he began to dice vegetables. Immediately, your brows raised. It seemed Jimin had undersold his skills in the kitchen.

When you said as much, he laughed.

“Maybe a little,” Jimin said. As he pushed veggies from the cutting board, the pan began to sizzle. “It’s all part of my master plan. Set expectations low, then over-deliver.”

“It’s working,” you said with a laugh. “You seem pretty damn impressive to me.”

Jimin’s cheeks reddened. “You’re just saying that.”

“Why would I lie?”

“I seem to remember some shocking texts about my junk and dancer’s belts. You could just be after my body, Y/N.”

“I – that’s not!”

He looked up and grinned. “Kidding.”

Flustered, you blurted, “That wasn’t nice!”

Jimin laughed. “I’m sorry.”

You huffed, waiting a minute before you continued. “You do look really good right now, though,” you said softly.

He looked up, eyes wide. As much as Jimin said he enjoyed being liked, it seemed to throw him for a loop whenever you said you liked him. It made you pause, mulling over this for a minute.

“You seem surprised,” you said quietly. “Whenever I say things like that, you always look surprised.”

“Well…” Jimin hesitated. “I just think… there’s been a lot of times where I never thought this would happen. It feels kind of unreal have you here. In my kitchen. On a date.”

“Times after November?”

Jimin paused.

Your brow furrowed. “Before then?”

Opening the pasta, Jimin added this to the pot. He stared into the steam, slowly exhaling before he looked up.

“Let’s just say I’ve wanted this for a while,” he admitted.

“What? But you hated me before Russet.”

“I…” Jimin trailed off. “Kind of. It’s complicated.”

When he failed to elaborate and returned to his cooking, your eyebrows shot up.

“Uh, no,” you laughed. “You can’t just say that and not explain what you mean. What are you talking about?”

Jimin winced as he set down his spoon. “Okay,” he said, gripping the counter. “I guess what I’m saying is I never really hated you. Not truly.”

“You didn’t.”

“No.” He spoke flatly.

“But…” Confused, you searched his face. “You’ve hated me ever since we met, Jimin. That first weekend at NUVO dance competition. We were both called out to demonstrate and you tripped me!”

“Well, maybe that’s not exactly what happened.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jimin released a low breath. “Okay, so here’s the thing. That weekend happened a little differently from my perspective.”

“How so?”

“We were both called out to demonstrate,” he said, repeating your words. “But I hadn’t seen you before then. When we both reached center and I turned and saw you – I froze. I couldn’t remember how to act. Every thought I’d ever had just… flew out of my head.”

You stared at him, speechless.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Jimin continued softly. “I’d never felt like that before. When you started to dance, it only got worse. I’d never seen someone dance like you did. That’s why I entered the combination late. That’s why I was in the wrong spot at the wrong time and that’s why I accidentally tripped you. I was… well, I was distracted.”

“By me,” you whispered. “You were distracted by… me?”

“Yeah.”

“So,” you said, breath catching. “This entire time, you haven’t really hated me?”

“Ah, I don’t know about that.” Jimin rubbed the back of his neck. “You could be really infuriating,” he said with a laugh. “There were times when you genuinely pissed me off. I meant it when I said I wanted to win against you. But also… I don’t know. I never really forgot the first time I saw you.”

“Oh,” you whispered, unsure what you were feeling.

It made your head spin to hear this different version of events. Jimin hadn’t hated you – at least, not in the same way you had. He hadn’t been the one to make the first move after all. You had when you’d decided not to listen to his apology.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“Hey – what’s wrong?”

Dropping his spoon to the counter, Jimin came around and stood beside you. Keeping your head down, you refused to look up until Jimin touched your arm.

“I just,” you exhaled, turning to face him. “It was my fault. This entire time, I thought you hated me and that’s why I hated you. But instead, I just decided to hate you – and for what?”

Jimin’s upper lip twitched. “I wasn’t entirely blameless, you know. I was such a little shit at that age. I wouldn’t have believed me, either.”

“You tried to apologize, though!”

“Hey.” Gently, he gripped your elbows. “If it makes you feel any better, I did trip people just to get to the front. I was an ass. It’s why that Jungkook guy hates me. I started dancing later in life, so I was really hung up on proving myself.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t true,” you told him. “You didn’t trip me on purpose, and if I’d only been less stubborn –”

“Whoa, hey.” Jimin smiled. “You weren’t the only stubborn one. Maybe it started off as a misunderstanding, but I didn’t really fight it. You were my competition as much as I was yours.”

“I guess,” you said quietly. “I just… I feel like I wasted so much time hating you. Maybe we could’ve even been friends.”

His gaze sparked. “Just friends?” he asked with a quirk of his brow.

“Jimin,” you groaned, but started to smile.

“Listen.” Expression softening, Jimin moved closer. “Even if I had decided to explain all this in high school, would you have believed me?”

“Probably not.”

“Exactly. I was a dick back then.” He nodded. “Remember that one time I lied and told you the awards ceremony had been pushed back an hour?”

Sitting up straighter, you glared. “Oh, I remember. I showed up after they’d already taken the photo for Top Junior solos.”

Jimin grinned. “Or the time I put an out of order sign on the women's restroom after your solo at BRAVO, so you had to run all the way across the auditorium?”

“That was you!” you blurted out, wide-eyed. “No one would believe me when I said it was! Every girl was so pissed off at you that weekend.”

“Which is exactly why I could never admit it was me!”

In disbelief, you shook your head. “You did all of that just to get back at me?”

Jimin’s smile disappeared. “Hey, you weren’t innocent either,” he argued. “Remember the time you spilled an entire water bottle next to my bag so that when I sat down, my ass got all wet?”

Devious, you smiled. “Honestly, there was kind of an ulterior motive there. As much as I hated you, your ass looks great in damp sweats.”

Jimin’s jaw dropped a little.

Managing to shut this, he took a casual step forward. “Is that what you thought?” he murmured, barely able to conceal the thickness in his voice.

“I… may have noticed a few things about you.”

When he placed a hand next to you on the counter, your breath hitched in response. Jimin repeated this with his other hand, bringing his body a step closer to yours.

Hesitant, his gaze roamed your face. “What else did you notice?”

“I…” you exhaled and glanced at his lips.

The air between you could have been cut with a knife, heated for a different reason than the stove beside you. Which – eyes widening, you glanced over.

“Shit!” you blurted. “Jimin, the pasta!”

Startled, he looked in the same direction as you and realized the water was boiling. Rushing away, Jimin entered the kitchen and turned down the burner. Now that you were separated by a solid counter, you felt somewhat dazed when you glanced up and saw him.

Meeting your gaze, Jimin came to a stop. “Anyways,” he said softly. “Now, you know. I didn’t trip you on purpose. I never really hated you. And I’m incredibly glad you’re here tonight.”

Watching him speak, something warm bloomed in your chest.

“Me, too,” you whispered.

Smiling, Jimin returned to the pasta and you settled back on the stool. Delicious scents soon filled the kitchen and you realized how truly hungry you were. You hadn’t eaten much at lunch in preparation and by now, you were famished.

It wasn’t long before Jimin placed pasta onto plates, adding the bread you’d cut up on the side. He brought these to his table, disappearing briefly to return with two candles.

“Oo,” you said as you took a seat. “Fancy.”

Jimin lit the one closest to you with a flourish. “We aim to please, here at Park Jimin’s Fine Eating and Dining.”

“Is that the name of your restaurant?”

“It is.”

“And you’re set on that decision?”

“I decided on a whim, but I have no regrets,” Jimin said, taking a seat across from you. “Now, eat before you piss off the chef and he takes back your food.”

Laughing, you dug into the pasta before you. It was delicious and, after the very first bite, you sighed in appreciation. Apparently, Jimin had truly set the bar low. Conversation began to flow, any lingering tension disappeared after talk of your past.

It was the oddest thing. You’d heard stories from friends about other first dates. They worried about how to behave, what to wear, or what to say to their date – but none of these worries seemed to exist for you in the moment. You’d been so concerned before the night began, but now that you were here, all these worries seemed to fly out the window.

You’d thought you’d spend the entire night comparing. Comparing Jimin to your last relationship, comparing Jimin as a date to Jimin as a friend, but instead, it felt like natural progression. It wasn’t a matter of comparing Jimin to anyone else, but rather simply enjoying where the night led.

After dinner, you insisted on helping clean because Jimin had cooked and bought the food. Donning rubber gloves over your dress, you stood at the sink and began to wash dishes. Jimin laughed as he joined, pulling on gloves to dry the dishes beside you. Once this was done, he suggested watching a movie before the ball dropped.

Collapsing onto the sofa, you adjusted your dress and scanned the room. The posters Jimin had bemoaned were now hung over the TV – you wondered if Hoseok had managed to somehow sneak them past his roommates. Small touches here and there made you think of Jimin.

A game he’d mentioned was out on the coffee table and a blanket which smelled like him was draped over a chair. Pulling this towards you, you wrapped it around yourself as Jimin left the kitchen.

Holding two glasses of wine, he paused when he saw you.

“What?” you said, glancing down.

“Nothing.” Jimin cleared his throat. “Are you cold?”

“A little,” you admitted, tugged his blanket closer.

“Shoot.” Jimin frowned. “The heat’s been weird since we moved in. I’m not sure how to fix – oh!” Setting the glasses down, he rushed towards the hall. “Do you want a sweatshirt?” he called.

“Yes, please!”

Jimin reappeared moments later, a navy sweatshirt in hand. Handing this over, he settled beside you on the sofa. He’d ditched his blazer and now, Jimin was dressed in only the paisley shirt and slacks.

Pulling his sweatshirt overhead, you somehow managed to get stuck right away. It was hard not to, with your hair and the dress, trying not to flash him while you kept your legs crossed.

After a moment of watching your undignified struggling, Jimin cleared his throat.

“Need help?”

“Yes, please,” you said weakly.

Jimin laughed, helping you free and once the hoodie was settled, you sighed and leaned back. Glancing sideways at Jimin, you found him already looking at you.

“What do you want to watch?” you asked.

Jimin blinked, then glanced at the TV. “Hm,” he mused, grabbing the remote. “We could watch the ball drop and enjoy the fact that we’re sitting inside, not standing in the freezing cold without any bathrooms.”

“I know!” you said with a shudder. “Out of all the stupid traditions, that’s one I’ll never understand.”

“How do so many people have it on their bucket list?”

“Right? That, and the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Zero out of ten. It’s cold, there’s wind and again, there’s the question of bathrooms.”

Jimin laughed as he scrolled through the channels. “Alright, so no to the ball drop. Want to watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

“What movie?”

“Why’re you making me pick?” you whined, sinking deeper into his cushions. “That’s such a large amount of pressure.”

“Exactly, which is why I don’t want to do it.”

You laughed and after some back and forth, decided to watch About Time. This was a movie about obstacles and falling in love, which seemed more than fitting because of the new year. At first, you and Jimin were watching diligently but eventually, he asked a question and conversation slowly drifted from the movie.

At some point, Jimin lowered the volume to focus solely on you. You curled deeper into the couch beside him, your thighs somehow touching and shoulders inches apart. Jimin’s head leaned against the cushion and he continued to smile in a way which made your heart flip.

“Here’s a question,” you murmured, no longer pretending to watch the movie.

His eyes gleamed in the darkness. “What?”

“Why’d you tell Sabrina you only wanted to be friends?”

Briefly, his eyes widened. “How did… you know about that?”

“She told me.”

“Hm.” Jimin gave you a dubious look but moved past it. Sabrina had begun hanging out with your friends as of late. “But alright, I’ll answer. If I do though, you need to answer one of my questions. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“So, I was single when I came to Russet.” Jimin paused. “It was the first time in a long time, and I may have hooked up with a couple of people.”

“Hm,” you said tightly.

His eyes danced with amusement. “Jealous?”

“Answer the question.”

He laughed. “Anyways, I only hooked up with Sabrina the one time. Afterwards…” Jimin sighed. “I felt kind of weird about her asking me to switch partners. Then I overheard what she said about Ari at weigh-ins and just didn’t feel like anything more... Plus, there was the other reason.”

“And what was the other reason?”

“I was starting to like you,” he said, a bit softer. “The day you said you wanted to be friends was a giant weight from my chest. And the more relaxed you were around me, the more… I don’t know. The more I liked you, I guess. My mom has always called me her hopeless romantic,” Jimin said with a smile. “I don’t know about that, but I can be single-minded when I like someone. That was part of the reason I told Sabrina we shouldn’t hook up anymore.”

“Oh,” you whispered.

His smile turned lopsided. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah. I guess it does.”

“My turn, then.” Smile disappearing, his gaze darkened. “Why did you really call me that night at the club?”

“Oh. That. Well, I –”

“And don’t say it was because I had a car,” Jimin interrupted. “There were a lot of people you could’ve called to help. You didn’t, though. You called me. Why?”

You hesitated before you realized there was only one answer. “I wanted to see you,” you said honestly. “I was scared, I was alone and… you were the person I wanted to see.”

Jimin’s gaze had become nearly black, the air between you thick with something unsaid. You were suddenly conscious of all each part of your body pressed to his. When Jimin shifted on the couch, you moved somehow closer.

He hesitated, then glanced at your mouth. “I don’t…” Jimin licked his lips, sounding hoarse. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“You won’t,” you told him.

Something uncertain passed over his face. “Maybe we should take things slow.”

“Or,” you said slowly. “I could tell you things I like about you, instead.”

“And what would be the point of that?”

Your gaze shifted to his. “You’ve told me a lot tonight about how much you like me,” you said softly. “About how long you’ve liked me. I think it’s time I returned the favor.”

Something in his gaze cracked and he nodded. The TV in the background was quiet, only the noise from the street and the whoosh of the heater breaking the silence.

“First,” you said, glancing down at his lap. “You have really nice hands.”

Jimin’s lips twitched. “My hands? I’ve always thought they were small.”

“Wrong. They’re the perfect size. Never have they dropped me.”

“Mm, that’s a good point.”

“And your smile,” you said.

“What about it?”

“I like your smile,” you told him. “It makes me smile.”

His eyes crinkled in demonstration. “Oh, yeah?”

“And your ears.”

Jimin laughed. “My ears?”

Reaching out, you delicately traced over an edge. “I’ve spent a long time looking at your profile, Park. I know what I’m talking about here.”

As your fingers moved lower, feather-light down his jaw, Jimin’s smile disappeared.

“I like your jaw, too,” you told him.

In the darkness, his gaze glinted, and you felt his jaw tense.

“And your lips,” you added, gaze lowering. “I like those a lot.”

“Y/N…” Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Yeah?”

He slowly exhaled. “I just don’t want you to regret this.”

“Jimin.”

He opened his eyes.

Your expression was serious. “I told you I wouldn’t jump into something before I was ready,” you said, lifting your other hand. “But I’m not in love with Finn anymore. It doesn’t hurt when I think about what happened last semester. I like you, Jimin. I want you. I don’t want to keep pushing you away. I get if you’re unsure about this, though. If you’re unsure about me.”

Jimin’s gaze roamed your face. “Unsure?”

“I know I hurt you before. I shouldn’t have kissed you and ran away. But I promise this isn’t like that. I’m not running away. I’m the furthest thing from running and I –”

Cutting you off, Jimin pressed his lips to yours.

You shuddered a little, leaning into his kiss before he pulled back. Jimin exhaled, barely a breath before he kissed you again.

Noses brushing, lips lingering, the kiss slowly deepened. Your hands curled into his hair, pulling him forward to bask in his warmth. It was dizzying, how different this felt than last time. Last time you’d been heartbroken, desperately yearning each time your lips had touched.

Now, Jimin felt like air, like sunshine as you drowned in his presence. Hand grasping your waist, Jimin moved you closer so your chest nestled to his. Lifting his fingers, his touch skimmed your jaw, your hairline before he circled the nape of your neck.

Drawing away, he bit down on your lip. With a low sort of moan, Jimin sought your lips again. When his mouth opened yours, his tongue swept forward and you nearly combusted.

This was only to tease, though. Only to taste before he pulled away, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Thumb skimming your jawline, Jimin tilted your head back to brush a kiss to your throat. Moving higher, he worshiped a slow path up the column of your neck. At your ear, he nipped gently before he returned.

Now, his kisses began to deepen. Mouths opening, your tongues brushed only briefly before he chose to withdraw. You were glad you were kissing on the couch, because suddenly your own legs felt weak underneath you.

Hand re-gripping his waist, Jimin pulled you against him. Eager, your hands found his neck and the blanket dropped to the floor. It wasn’t enough, though – you needed more, wanted to feel him fully beneath you. Rising on your knees, you swung a leg over his lap and settled on top.

Jimin hissed, his head hitting the back of his couch. Your dress had ridden up in the process, exposing your thighs – his thumbs skimmed the surface before he looked up.

“Shit,” Jimin croaked.

Smiling, you bent to kiss him again. Jimin arched upwards, each part of your body electric where you touched. He shifted his hips, granting friction and heat which made you short-circuit. Pressing yourself closer, your thighs sild backwards until they nestled around his waist.

Jimin’s hand found your spine, pulling you closer as his hips pushed upwards. You groaned when you felt him shift underneath you. The kisses grew steadily hotter, this ache in your core increasing with every touch.

“Can I…” Pulling away, Jimin glanced lower. “Can I take off the sweatshirt?”

“Yeah,” you said, a bit dazed.

Jimin didn’t waste time, helping you pull this swiftly overhead. It was tossed on the ground and when your dress was revealed, he inhaled.

Slipping his hands up your bodice, Jimin met your gaze. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he confessed, his voice hoarse.

“Do what?”

Your breath hitched when his hands skimmed your breasts, lingering in all your softest places.

“Touch you,” Jimin said. “It was torture to see you, to look at you and not be able to do this. Not how I wanted, anyways. I’d tell myself not to think about it, but…”

“Jimin.”

He paused and looked up. “Yes?”

“Touch me. Please.”

Without hesitation, Jimin slid his hands lower. Cupping your ass, he pulled you against him and allowed his other hand to drift up your spine. You shivered, closing your eyes as your head tilted back.

His hands slid up your front, over your breasts and under the straps of your dress. Jimin’s thumbs drifted lower, brushing your nipples through the fabric of your bodice. Opening your eyes, you looked down at him and saw his gaze darken.

Reaching higher, Jimin cupped the back of your neck and returned your lips to his.

He kissed you slowly, purposefully as you melted forward. Shifting against him, the kiss began to intensify. Mouths opening, your tongue swept forward in bold strokes against his. Suppressing a whimper, you ground your hips on his lap.

“Is,” you murmured, breaking free. “Is your bedroom unpacked?”

Jimin went still. “I – mostly, yeah.”

“Can I see it?”

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, releasing your thighs as he stood from the couch.

You laughed, sliding down his front as your feet hit the ground. Tugging your dress down, you followed Jimin when he grabbed your hand. He pulled you down the hall, coming to a stop at the last room on the row. Pushing open the door, he flicked on the light and came to a stop.

Stepping forward, you glanced around Jimin’s room. You recognized some of the items from the two times you’d visited Jimin in the dorms. Photos of his family were carefully hung on the wall and he had the same pillows laid over his queen-sized bed.

Turning around, you took a step backwards and sat on his bed. “It’s nice,” you said, patting the comforter. “I like it here.”

Jimin watched you, his gaze half-lidded from the hall. “I like you here.”

Cheeks heating, you watched him enter and gently shut the door. Leaning back on your elbows, you arched a brow.

“Where’d we leave off?”

Jimin exhaled as he crossed the room. “I think you were on my lap,” he said hoarsely, kneeling beside you.

You nodded, moving to straddle him as he leaned to the wall. Catching your waist with both hands, Jimin pulled you against him, kissing you roughly even before you sat down. Suddenly ravenous, his hands slid to your ass as he rolled you against him. Inhaling sharply, you sucked his lower lip between teeth as he groaned.

Reaching up, Jimin tugged on your hair as you inhaled, throat exposed for him to kiss slowly down your front. When he returned to your lips, you ground your hips impatiently over the bulge in his pants.

Shifting his weight, Jimin’s spine hit the wall. He stared at you, slightly dazed with his kiss-reddened lips. Without looking away, Jimin lifted his fingers and began undoing his shirt. You stilled, watching each inch of skin be revealed. When he reached the last button, you gave in and helped push this aside. Smiling, Jimin sat up as his shirt fell to the floor.

You weren’t sure where to look first. Hands faltering, you slid them up his abs, over his shoulders and down his biceps. He was so perfect, it almost hurt to look at. Jimin’s breath quickened as you touched him and slowly, he lowered you down to the bed.

“Enough,” he said roughly, returning your lips to his.

As you kissed it turned lazy, nothing but grinding and touching. Jimin’s hair was messy beneath the pull of your fingers. He didn’t seem to mind, his own hands digging into the curve of your thigh. Playing with the hem of your dress, he deftly slid upwards.

“Jimin,” you said, breaking free. “Unzip me.”

His gaze darkened. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Jimin nodded, following suit when you sat up beside him. Turning around, you exposed your back and Jimin began to lower the zipper. He moved slowly, taking his time as his fingers brushed skin. Holding the dress up with your hands, you waited until it was fully unzipped before releasing it to the floor.

Turning around, you found Jimin’s jaw slack.

“You…” He roughly inhaled while he scanned your body. “Lace, Y/N? Really?”

“Do you like it?” you asked.

You may have gone overboard preparing for tonight. Although you hadn’t been sure what would happen, you also hadn’t wanted to be caught off your guard. Tonight, your constant need to plan had come in handy. Beneath your dress you’d worn a crimson lace bra and panties – a matching set which Jimin seemed to like, based on his expression.

“You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, lowering his lips to your neck.

Kissing slowly down your chest, he came to a stop where the two halves joined together. Skimming the length of your torso, his hands trembled a little when he brushed the lace.

Jimin looked up. “I’m sorry I keep touching you,” he murmured. “I just – you’re driving me crazy. You’ve been driving me crazy.”

“You said that before,” you whispered.

“I meant it.”

Kissing again up your body, he lingered in places your skin was exposed. Inhaling, your eyes fluttered shut as you grasped his shoulders.

Jimin’s hand slid between your thighs. “Part them,” he murmured, and you obeyed.

Heart racing, you opened your eyes and watched Jimin drag a finger slowly up the center of your panties. Even you could feel how damp the fabric was, how wet and ready you were for him.

Lifting his finger to his lips, Jimin sucked. “You’re soaking,” he breathed, sounding eager. “So good to me.”

Lowering his head, his tongue flicked your breast. Teasing the nipple through fabric, he urged and he sucked until it was fully erect. Moving onto the next one, Jimin grazed with his teeth until it pressed wantonly into the lace cup of your bra. Moaning his name, you arched against him.

Finding your wrists, Jimin pinned you backwards as he continued. Thighs caging your waist, he kept you hostage with his exquisite torture. The lace of your bra was now drenched, Jimin sucking debauchedly through fabric.

“Jimin,” you groaned, twisting on the sheets. “Please.”

His hips rolled lazily against your center. “Not yet,” he insisted before pulling back. “Not until you make a mess of my sheets. Want to ruin these panties.”

Sliding a hand between your thighs, he lightly circled your entrance. Feeling how wet you were, Jimin softly groaned. Sitting back on his heels, he finally relented and pulled your panties down. Tossing these to the floor, he returned to your thighs and spread your legs.

Lightly, Jimin dragged the pads of his thumbs up and down your panty line. “God, you’re so perfect,” he murmured. “Got my sheets fucking soaked.”

Separating two of his fingers, he slowly dragged his digits up and down your folds. You inhaled, feeling needy while you watched him touch you. Each brush of his fingers had you dripping – teasing over your entrance, he refused to give you exactly what you wanted. Feather-light, Jimin circled your swollen clit with his finger.

Hands gripping the sheets, you could only stare while Jimin brought you closer and closer to the edge. He was barely touching you, but it was the most turned on you’d ever been in your life. Jimin’s thumb swiped over your clit, rubbing you gently as you keened in frustration, arching against him.

He continued like this until you were gasping, begging for more and then – only then – did he slide a finger inside you. Legs trembling, you arched on his mattress and stared at him, glassy-eyed. When Jimin began to move in and out, you lost all control.

Lowering his head, he closed his lips over your clit.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered as you broke apart.

Barely did he suck before you were coming undone, pulsing around his fingers. Shuddering with pleasure, you collapsed on the bed as you rode out your high. Gently, Jimin pulled out his finger and returned to your lips.

Reaching behind you, he undid the clasp of your bra and tossed this on the floor. Once you were fully naked, he pulled you against him. You felt limp, thoroughly sated, but familiar excitement began to stir at his front pressed to yours. Tilting your head, he gently kissed you while your fingers wound in his hair.

Jimin moved slow, letting you take the lead. Your core continued to throb with oversensitivity, although this seemed to lessen the longer you kissed him. Before long, your nipples were hardening as you rubbed against him. Fingers digging into your thigh, Jimin pulled this over his hip to watch you lazily grind.

Realizing he still wore pants, you lowered a hand, determined to fix this. Jimin helped, dragging the zipper down to throw both these and his boxers down on the floor.

He bent to kiss you again, but you placed a hand on his chest. “Wait,” you murmured. “I want to see you.”

Jimin exhaled, leaning back so you could take in his body. If you’d thought his chest was unreal, it was nothing compared to his trim hips, sculpted thighs and cock nestled between.

“Oh,” you said, dragging a hand down his front.

Jimin shuddered a little. He was already hard, his cock thick and pretty with a reddened tip. It made your mouth water to look at, wanting to lick up the shaft. Reaching between you, you closed your fist around him and slowly jerked him off.

You watched in fascination as Jimin responded. His jaw tightened, abs tense while you teased over his frenulum. His cock responded instinctively, hardening further the longer you touched him.

After a few minutes of this, Jimin shook his head. “No more,” he said huskily, taking your hand in his. “I’ll come if you keep doing that.”

“Oh?” you murmured, gaze darting lower.

He chuckled, a rough sound in his throat. “I like watching you come,” Jimin confessed, his cock hard between you. “It turns me on. I’m… still trying to recover from your last orgasm.”

“Oh,” you said, in a completely different way.

Jimin exhaled, hair falling forward. “I hope that doesn’t weird you out.”

“Does it… weird me out that you like giving orgasms?”

“Well, when you put it like that.”

“How else would I put it?”

His grin became devious. “You could ask for another.”

Breathless, you nodded and Jimin’s gaze darkened.

He descended your body, not wasting any time as he positioned himself between your legs. Licking slow up your center, you gasped and instinctively drew your legs higher. Jimin didn’t bother easing you into it. No, now he ate you out like he wanted to.

Kissing your folds, he returned to your clit and sucked this into his mouth. Rolling the sensitive bud with his tongue, he teased and released before you knew what was happening. He continued to do this, spreading you underneath him and bringing you close to coming, only to pull back and leave you maddeningly empty.

Spreading your folds, he began licking sweetly over your clit. This was followed by loose, lazy sucking and more tender flicks. You stared dazedly at him between your legs, the sight more erotic than anything you could’ve imagined.

Grinding his cock into the sheets, Jimin thrust his hips while he pleasured you. You could tell he enjoyed this; each grunt from his lips was more affirmation. Moving lower, he circled your cunt with his tongue just to lap up your juices. You gasped at the sensation, having never felt it before. Flicking your clit with his thumb, Jimin fucked your cunt with his tongue before he slowly withdrew.

Spreading you wide, he returned to your clit and you clasped a hand over your lips before a moan could escape. Each curl of his tongue left you gasping, writhing beneath the pleasurable onslaught of his mouth. Pulling away, Jimin pressed a gentle kiss to your thigh before he rose up your body.

At your mouth, he kissed your fingers. “You don’t have to be quiet,” he told you. “I want to hear the noises you make, Y/N. It makes me feel good.”

Removing your hand, you slowly nodded.

Jimin just grinned, dropping between your legs to begin eating you out again. This time, you didn’t hold back. Jimin seemed to appreciate this as you slipped further from control. He was so good with his mouth, making you see stars as your legs started to shudder. When he slid his finger inside you and fingered you again, your hands fisted in the sheets.

“Ji-jimin,” you gasped, writhing beneath him. “Jimin, I – oh.”

He began to move faster, adding a second finger as your insides clenched around him. Everything tightened, hovering at a breaking point while Jimin continued, relentless. His mouth on your clit, his fingers inside you – everything broke apart when you came, gasping his name.

Jimin didn’t move, kissing your sex as you slowly came down. He lapped at your sex, licking up your arousal before withdrawing his fingers. Once your breathing had steadied, Jimin returned to the sheets beside you.

“Good?” he breathed, draping an arm over your waist.

“Oh my god, yes,” you exhaled, burying your face in his chest.

He laughed, pulling you closer. Jimin started to pull away, which made you look up and frown.

“What are you doing?” you said.

He paused. “I’m looking for a tissue.”

“Why?”

“I… I’m kind of at a loss here.”

“No, I mean why now,” you said, baffled. “I can come again, Jimin. I want to come with you inside me.”

Jimin stared at you a moment.

“Unless…” Uncertain, you hesitated. “You don’t want to…?”

“Fuck,” Jimin muttered, sounding hoarse. “No – I want to. I really want to. Are you sure, though?” he said, reaching to open the side drawer of his bed.

You grinned when he pulled out a condom, ripping this open.

“I’m sure,” you murmured, moving closer.

Jimin rolled the condom onto himself, pausing before he went any further. Shifting his weight so he hovered over you, Jimin searched your gaze. Reaching lower, you casually stroked his cock and guided him to your center.

He didn’t enter yet, content to take his time. Instead, Jimin bent and kissed you, dragging a hand down your side. His fingers paused at your breast, tweaking your nipple until it stood fully erect. Moving to your waist, he curved under your ass and lifted your hips to his.

Arching upwards, you felt his cock brush your center. The touch made you pant, wanting him inside you and wanting it now. Rolling over his length, you marveled at the feel of him between your legs. Having him so close and not having him inside you was maddening.

“Jimin,” you whimpered.

“Yeah?” he murmured, continuing to thrust between your thighs.

“Please,” you begged him.

“Alright, baby,” he said and rolled you onto your back.

It was the first time he’d used the endearment, sending a wave of warmth through you as your legs parted. Reaching lower, Jimin positioned himself at your entrance. It took him a moment to work his way in; you were so wet, he needed a second try. With only his tip inside, you immediately clenched and buried your head in his shoulder.

Lightly, Jimin brushed a kiss to your hair. “Relax, baby,” he murmured, making you glance up. “I’ll make you feel good. I promise.”

Slowly, you nodded. “Okay.”

Laying slowly back down, you tried to relax while he worked his way deeper. With slow, shallow thrusts, Jimin finally bottomed out and you stared at him in amazement. His cock was thicker than you were used to and stuffed to the brim like this, you felt so full. Glancing down, you saw his hips nestled snugly to yours.

When you looked up, Jimin met your gaze. “I’m sorry,” he exhaled, hanging his head. “I just – I need a minute.”

“What’s wrong?” you blurted, immediately worried.

A smile passed over his lips. “Nothing’s wrong.” He looked up. “You’re just… fuck. I feel like a damn virgin. You’re so tight and wet, I’m losing my mind.”

Hearing him say this sent a shiver through you. Shifting your hips, you reveled in the sensation of him moving inside you.

Jimin groaned. “No,” he protested. “You can’t do that right now.”

“Do what?”

“Try and make me move,” he murmured. “I know you can’t see yourself, so you can’t see how hot you look. Tits out, pussy spread and dripping all over my cock.”

“Oh,” you breathed.

“Sounding like that.”

“Jimin. If you don’t –”

He suddenly thrust deeper, grinding his pelvis against your core and making you groan. Speechless, you stared as he slowly pulled out. Jimin teased you with his tip, moving a few inches back in before he thrust again.

“Oh,” you groaned, jolted upwards on the bed.

His gaze dropped to your chest. “Fuck,” Jimin said quietly, dropping down to an elbow.

He moved again in earnest, thrusting slowly in and pulling back out. It made your breath catch, needing more but loving the torture. It was torture to feel every inch of him and have Jimin continue to hold back. You knew he could go faster, deeper, but wanted to stay in control.

Dropping his head, Jimin slowly kissed your neck. His cock continued to move, fucking you slowly as your legs opened wider.

“Jimin,” you whimpered.

Your hips chased after his, hoping to coerce him deeper.

He smirked. “Yes, baby?”

“Please,” you said, arching against him. “I want more.”

“You want it harder?”

As he said this, Jimin increased his strength. Keeping the tempo the same, each thrust of his cock had your lips parting with pleasure.

“Yes,” you whimpered, barely hanging on.

“And faster? You want that, too?”

You nodded, slack-jawed as Jimin sped up the pace. His cock began to pound into you, hand fisting in sheets as he gave it to you hard. Arching underneath him, your hands dragged down his back as Jimin fully let go. With each thrust of his hips, his pelvis brushed your clit and yet, it still wasn’t enough.

“More?” he teased, continuing to fuck you.

“More,” you whimpered, sliding your hands up your breasts. Tweaking the nipples, you watched his gaze harden. “I want more, Jimin.”

He immediately moved, as though he’d been waiting for this. Grasping your ankles in one hand, he lifted them high overhead and pulled his cock out. You gasped when he did so, your hands falling to the side while you were put on display. The position pushed your pussy lips together, giving an incredible view of your dripping cunt.

Jimin plunged his cock back inside, nearly making you scream. It felt so deep this way – so deep and hard and deliciously wanton. Jimin fucked you from above, hips slamming into you and making your breasts bounce.

Jimin groaned, his hips never faltering. “Touch them,” he said, lowering your ankles to one shoulder. “Touch your tits for me, baby.”

You obeyed, hands sliding over your breasts to tease your nipples. This sent a shock of pleasure straight to your core and Jimin hammered your g-spot, making you see stars. Jaw slack, you could only lie there and take it while he made you come.

It was too much, the wave of pleasure threatening to overwhelm, but then Jimin leaned forward and you finally snapped. You felt him release into the condom as you fell apart, rope after rope of hot cum inside you.

Eventually, Jimin softened and fell onto his elbow. As he opened his eyes, he sought your gaze and you smiled. His cheeks were flushed, his hair dark and sweaty and you couldn’t help the deep surge of affection within you.

“I don’t know about you,” he murmured. “But that was pretty fucking incredible.”

“Same here,” you whispered. “I’d like to do it again sometime.”

“Three orgasms weren’t enough?”

“Were they enough for you?”

“No.” Jimin laughed. “I could watch you come all night. But we should probably get you cleaned up and all that.”

“Probably,” you agreed, although you made no effort to move.

Eventually Jimin sighed and gently pulled out. Tossing his condom in the trash, he showed you to the bathroom and let you do what you needed to do. When you returned, Jimin was on top of his bed. He’d put back on his boxers and held out his sweatshirt.

“I thought you might want this,” he said, uncertain.

Smiling, you took it and lowered it over your head. Climbing beside him on the bed, you rested your head on his shoulder and cuddled beside him. Listening to his breathing, you concentrated until yours started to match.

Outside, cheers erupted from the street. Scrambling upwards, you fought to look out Jimin’s side window. As you hurried to see what the commotion was about, Jimin groaned when you flashed him your bare ass, but followed suit.

Glancing outside, you realized it must have turned midnight. Fireworks went off over the skyline, people cheered below, and someone had lit a sparkler on the street. Voices drifted higher, wishing each other a happy new year as slowly, you turned around to face Jimin.

He smiled at you, his happiness clear when he pulled you to him. A dizzying rush of what-if’s and excitement went through you and somehow, you knew this would be only the beginning.

“Happy new year,” he murmured.

“Happy new year,” you whispered, tilting your face up to his.

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading this series 😊 It’s been a whirlwind, so thank you for sticking with our main characters throughout the journey! I hope you enjoyed and are having a wonderful holiday season :) happy (almost) new year!

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST 

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[griffintail]

The First Day

Summary: Your first day on the server.

Pairing: Wilbur Soot x F! Reader

Next

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: This is a story I was working on in my free time for like the longest time and it's still not finished and it's so long. God knows how many parts this will be. I need a title for this story too. I'll think of one separately and it will have it's own masterlist if people like it. 

SO! Without further ado, here you are because I was bored!

Oh and (Y/U/N) means YOUR USERNAME.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        Wilbur logged on to the Dream SMP. He didn’t have anything to do there, it was just a place to run around and build for him at the moment.

        He had built his “ball” not far from Tommy’s base, maybe he could build something else…He wasn’t quite sure yet. Just as before, Tommy begged for his attention and chuckled at the boy’s antics quietly. As he was going to find a space to build a new name joined the server.

        (Y/U/N) joined the game

        He frowned. He’s never heard that name before. Someone must have though because Dream didn’t let just anyone on the server. He’d look into them later.

        He was once more about to go to work when there was a new message in chat.

        <(Y/U/N)> There are new people on today. \o/ Hello, Mr. Soot and Mr. Innit.

        He chuckled as he read the message deciding to give them a response, smirking at Tommy’s probably rage.

        <WilburSoot> Hello there! :)

        <(Y/U/N)> May I know your coords?

        <WilburSoot> You may

        He gave the newcomer he coordinates, deciding to stick around the ball as he had as Tommy messaged him with renewed hope. A figure that wasn’t Tommy climbed up to Wilbur. The character was a female skin in a plaid jacket that was open with a plaid shirt and blue jeans to match, wearing a gray beanie on blonde hair.

        <(Y/U/N)> Hi! I’m new and wanted to give you a gift.

        She threw a flower, a poppy specifically, at him and when he picked it up, he noticed it was named.

        From (Y/U/N) to WilburSoot

        <WilburSoot> Why thank you Ms. (Y/U/N).

        <Tommyinnit> WOMAN!?

        <(Y/U/N)> No problem good day!

        <(Y/U/N)> Mr. Innit! May I have your coords?

        <Tommyinnit> No I will not give a woman my coordinates!!

        <(Y/U/N)> :(

        And now was the time to respond to Tommy. Wilbur logged onto the discord and joined Tommy in his call.

        “Wilbur!”

        “Now Tommy, that’s not how you talk to a lady.” Wilbur jokingly scolded him. “Apologize to her.”

        “I am not going to apologize to a woman!”

        “Tommy,” Wilbur warned. “Don’t make me block you.”

        He heard Tommy sigh exasperated and typed in chat.

        <Tommyinnit> I’m sorry

        <(Y/U/N)> :) It’s ok. I wish to give you a gift! Coords pls?

        <WilburSoot> He lives in those fences right across from here

        “Good, thank you, Tommy.”

        “Will you talk to me now?” Tommy asked with a huff.

        “Sure.”

        He first went into his ball as the girl sprinted over to Tommy’s place. He put the flower in a chest before following after her as he listened to Tommy talk.

        “Why the hell did she give me a flower?” Tommy questioned as Wilbur was halfway to Tommy’s.

        <Tommyinnit> Why the hell did you give me a flower?

        <(Y/U/N)> I’m new and I just want to give you a welcome gift!

        <(Y/U/N)> I need to work on my house. Good day, Mr. Soot and Mr. Innit!

        She sprinted away towards the community house. Wilbur stopped next to Tommy as he was holding a red tulip.

        “Wha…What was that?” Tommy asked Wilbur.

        “She told you, now what do you want to do?”

        The new girl had left before Tommy’s stream ended and after Tommy’s stream and he left, Wilbur decided to look up who the new person was. Looking up the name, he got a Twitter, YouTube, and Twitch account. On her Twitch there was a new video streamed today titled “Let’s not be homeless! (DreamSMP)”. She had a decent amount of followers on her Twitch and her YouTube channel, she had half a million subscribers. On her Twitter, there was a picture of a dog with its face pressed against the camera that had taken it. There was a tweet from not long ago with a full picture of the same dog next to a desk.

                                                     -------

        (Y/U/N) @(Y/U/N)

        He wouldn’t leave me alone all stream! I love my good boy but a girl needs her space!

                                                     -------

        Wilbur gave a quiet chuckle before liking the post and giving her a follow. Maybe he’d meet more of her…

                                                      -------

        Wilbur logged into the server once more to work on his project to come with Tommy. There were a few people online, Tubbo, Ponk, and Fundy. He didn’t bother them though, giving greetings back when given before getting to work. As he did, he got a notification from his phone that someone was live and glanced over. (Y/U/N) was live.

        Curious, he pulled up her stream and decided to leave it on in the background.

        “Hello, magical people! We’re going to be jumping back onto the SMP! My house looks so dull and I wanna find wolves.”

        Wilbur caught her accent immediately, American, definitely.

        “What do you mean there’s three people I haven’t met! I don’t have experience chat! Don’t say that!”

        (Y/U/N) joined the game

        “Fudge there’s three people I haven’t met. Firetrucks, uhhhh, I need to give them their flowers but I can’t name them!”

        <(Y/U/N)> Hello new fellows! \o/

        <Tubbo_> Hello! o/

        “I like that one.” She laughed. “He definitely deserves a flower. Oh, Mr. Soot’s online. Maybe he can help…”

        Wilbur looked over to see her typing a message in chat to him and as he looked over, he realized there was no webcam. She must not like to show her face.

        (Y/U/N) whispers to WilburSoot: Hi Mr. Soot! I’m in a predicament. May I ask for some of your EXP levels to name three flowers?

        He chuckled as he typed back to her.

        WilburSoot whispers to (Y/U/N): I have a few I can spare. I’ll be heading over to the ball to meet you. Just bring the anvil and flowers.

        “He’s a lifesaver chat!” She cheered. “We found a good one!”

        He laughed as he made his way over to his ball.

        (Y/U/N) whispers to WilburSoot: You’re a lifesaver! I and the chat thank you!

        She came sprinting over a few moments after he got there and she placed the anvil down and threw to him a dandelion, an orange tulip, and an allium.

        (Y/U/N) whispers to WilburSoot: The dandelion for Tubbo, the tulip for Fundy, and allium for Ponk.

        WilburSoot whispers to (Y/U/N): Ok :)

        He named the flowers the same as she had named his as she took the chance of waiting to read out her subs and donations. As he named the last flower, he saw he had a spare daisy in his inventory. She was giving them flowers; he should give one back.

        To (Y/U/N) From WilburSoot

        He threw all the flowers back over as she was reading a donation.

        “Ah! Flowers! Time to hunt down the people!”

        (Y/U/N) whispers to WilburSoot: Thank you! I owe you one!

        WilburSoot whispers to (Y/U/N): Any time!

        She picked up the anvil before sprinting off into the distance and he went back towards his build.

        <(Y/U/N)> Mr. Tubbo! Hello! I’m new and wish to give you a present!

        <Tubbo_> Thank you!!

        It was a moment before a new message popped up in chat.

        <(Y/U/N)> Hello Mr. Fundy! I have a gift for you!

        <ItsFundy> Ah thank you very much!

        Wilbur found it rather interesting as he watched the chat about how she used titles to talk to others. It was rather formal.

        “What do you mean there’s an extra flower? I only gave Mr. Soot three. Ok, ok, I’ll look.” She told her chat. “I thought I taught you guys better.” He looked over as she looked through her inventory, hovering over the extra flower he had given her. “Oh! He gave me a flower back! No one’s ever given me a flower back! Two years of giving flowers to people on servers and Mr. Soot beats them all!”

        So, this was a regular bit she did. He was surprised though to hear that he was the only one to give her a flower back, blushing lightly at her off-hand compliment.

        <(Y/U/N)> Mr. Soot! Thank you for MY gift! :)

        <WilburSoot> It was no problem. :)

        “Now back on track! To Ponk’s!”

        Wilbur tuned out the in-game chat as he worked, looking towards his phone though when he heard his name.

        “Do I watch Mr. Soot? Well yes, I’ve watched a few of his videos with Jschlatt and I’ve listened to his music video, uh…The Internet Ruined Me! That’s the one.”

        Wilbur blushed lightly once more. She had watched some of his videos and his music?

        “Do you watch anyone else on the server? Yeah, I watch a few of the guys like Sir Dream, George, and Sapnap. I watched one or two videos of Mr. Innit’s and Tubbo’s creation. But I have to be here with you too chat! I don’t have time to watch everyone!”

        Wilbur finished building, about to log off for the day but stopped and opened in-game chat.

        <WilburSoot> Good bye Ms. (Y/U/N)!

        “And he’s saying bye to me! Why didn’t we meet him sooner chat?!”

        <(Y/U/N)> Goodbye Mr. Soot! :)

        “I am not simping chat! I thought I taught all of you better!”

        Wilbur laughed as he turned off the stream. She was certainly a character.

[jortsaaaaaaart]

To Be Forgotten Amongst Friends chp1

Omega! Reader x avengers

Hello all! I revamped my story "ikaros" and this is the new story! Also the name is long rip.

Trigger warnings (later chapters mostly)- ptsd, noncon, kidnapping, human experimentation, Stockholm and lima syndrome

The following chapters will be posted on- https://archiveofourown.org/works/33890977     (seriously- may not post here that often cause i hate the tagging system- go check out ao3)

It's a beautiful day in New York and you're a terrible, no good, thief. 

You were considered New York’s very own Robin Hood. Two hundred ATM robberies in two years, the money flying out of the machines and into the hands of people who needed it. The banks, collectively, had lost over $300,000 from the ATMs alone. But of course, it wasn't just the ATMs. A rash of robberies had spread over the East coast. Most were digital, companies funneling their own money to offshore accounts that wanted nothing to do with U.S. intervention. The FBI were notified, then the CIA, and eventually- after a daring cyber attack against the DOD- SHIELD itself turned it's one eyed gaze onto you.

Nick Fury saw something the other agencies didn't. You had certain gifts that made your line of work incredibly easy. Whether they were natural mutations or some sort of superpower, they allowed you to break into some of the most secure networks known to man. He had almost found you when SHIELD fell and his resources vanished. After the dust cleared he was forced to start from scratch. Hunting you and the remnants of Hydra down at the same time wasn't easy, but, in a strange twist of fate, he found someone else that was searching for you too.

+++

New York was filled with so many people. Most of them were good, in your opinion. (Well, maybe half, actually.) You spent most of your off time working on "projects" or walking around the city. You had become a fixture at the local Bodega. Single omegas were extremely  rare, marked single omegas were almost unheard of. The mark gave you certain freedoms other omegas, sadly, didn't have. It drove away most potential suitors and the ones who were particularly bold would be given a taste of your powers. Once the burrow had gotten used to your presence they saw you as a generous person, but a secretive one. Someone who took no shit even with their designation. You gave to the community and different Omega rights groups in the area. After years of watching you quietly go about helping people you had been welcomed into the burrow's heart with open arms.

You loved helping people in your own way. You loved it just as much as you hated corporations and the police, but when you could make an ATM spew it's contents out into the poorest streets of Brooklyn or make Fox News send a million dollars to Planned Parenthood, you could have the best of both worlds.

At least, for a time. All good things had to end, right? That's what you told yourself as the redhead picked her way through the crowd towards you. 

Seeing an avenger in your neighborhood was an odd occurrence. It was a poorer part of town, untouched in the battle of New York, and too out of the way for any super villain origin stories. In fact, you seemed to be the only mutant in the entire block. You'd always thought, if someone was going to come for you, it would be a couple of FBI agents and not the fucking Black Widow. Your brain and heart went into overdrive as you tried to remember doing anything worth the avenger's time. But there was nothing. The DOD hack had been almost a year ago and all you did was release government files showing attacks on civilians overseas. It hardly seemed like an avengers worthy crime, especially when Black Widow herself had leaked government secrets before.

Any hope of her not not looking for you was dashed when her eyes locked onto yours. She tilted her head, asking a silent question. 

The burst of adrenaline sent you careening through the lunchtime crowds. You couldn't feel anyone on the rooftops but there was a large form blocking your path, trying to box you in. They were stronger and faster but you knew the environment. You ducked into Charlie's, your sneakers skidding on the asphalt as you took the sharp turn. The person behind the counter lazily looked up as you walked to the back. They knew you well enough to not care, they also weren't paid enough to care. The alley would open up into a busy side street. More people meant a better chance to blend in and get away. You were almost to the end when the door opened behind you. Black Widow and fucking Captain America stepped into the alley. For a moment the three of you stood in something akin to a standoff. 

You felt wildly undressed for this life-threatening situation.

"We just want to talk, (Y/N)" Captain America told you, hands raised. The unmistakable stink of an alpha radiated from the captain. You were momentarily thankful for your mark dulling its effect on you. Though, the blonde's scent was tinged with something hauntingly familiar. Something you didn't want to recognize.

Behind him, Black widow's free hand went to her ear. "Target is in the alley between 31st and 32nd," A twitch of your finger and the line went dead. Her hand dropped to the gun at her hip.

"I'm feeling pretty under equipped for this 'conversation'," You replied, slowly raising your hands as well, wondering if they could feel what you were doing. They didn't react and you slowly let your power seep from you.

Natasha was the first to react, drawing her gun and spinning around. Steve looked at her with confusion as her wide eyes scanned the alley as if she was seeing ghosts. She was afraid he realized, a cold feeling settling in his stomach. He moved towards her and you took off running. You felt him hesitate then take off after you, gaining on you with an embarrassingly low number of strides. You tried your powers again, stronger this time, but his focus was unwavering. He was almost to you now and you were running out of options. That’s when the alpha in him came out.

“Omega!” He snarled, “Stop!” Your feet slowed down immediately. It wasn’t as strong as your own alpha’s command would be, but the super soldier certainly commanded respect and obedience. You were forced to stand still, eyes burning holes in the asphalt, as the alpha’s footsteps grew closer. You really didn't want to do this but it looked like you had no choice. Your jaw clenched, and you spun around when his hand grabbed your arm. The blonde's eyes widened as you placed a palm to his chest. 

He barely had time to glance down at your hand before the electricity hit him.

The 1,000 volts you sent into him were supposed to stun him or send him flying, allowing you to escape. However, his muscles spasmed just a bit stronger than you intended. In an instant his grip crushed the bones in your arm and sent the two of you careening backwards into a brick wall. Natasha would find you a moment later, passed out on top of the super soldier, a sizable hole in the wall.

You woke up in an unfamiliar bed, a few blurry white shapes milled about in the corners of your vision. You couldn't remember how you got here, or where here was. All your senses seemed to be dulled. Your wrist was throbbing and each time you opened your eyes the room came in and out of focus. You closed your eyes, opting to ignore the funhouse effect and focus on the sounds around you. The beeping of the monitors, footsteps on concrete, and two low voices.

"She's alright, Buck, I promise." Steve's voice wavered in and out of your consciousness bringing with it the memory of how you got into this bed. "She did something to Nat and ran before I could explain. I wasn't expecting her powers to be so strong."

"I should have come with you," Another voice snarled. Your heart skipped a beat at the low growl. You knew that voice. It evoked a sickening combination of need and terror and you couldn't remember why. "She wouldn't have gotten hurt if I had. What idiot doesn't know omegas are fragile?!"

"It was an accident!" His voice raised slightly before sighing. "I know you're worried, but she's fine."

The scent you had smelled on Steve earlier swirled around the room. Metal and burning pine, it affected you just like the voice had, triggering both panic and yearning. You knew it somehow. The memory was there somewhere, tucked away where it couldn’t hurt you. Where it should have been forgotten.

The scent grew unbearably strong as he leaned over you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. When he pulled back he wasn't expecting his eyes to catch yours. 

His expression softened as soon as he realized you were awake. "Omega," Bucky whispered reverently. Stormy blue eyes stared down at you with love and adoration, watching the color drain from your face. "Doll?" 

Somewhere in the back of your mind you could hear the panicked beeping of the machines and Steve trying to calm you down. But it didn't matter. All that you could feel was the need to get far, far, away from this man. You didn't know how you knew him but you knew he was dangerous. You knew he had hurt you. That's why, as he reached out to gently cup your face, you slapped his hand away. 

"Get away from me!" You gasped, voice breaking. You scooted back and tried to back up as far as possible. Your shaky legs barely held your weight as you slid off the bed. Pure terror coursed through your veins, it was the only thing keeping you on your feet. You found yourself pressed into the corner of the room while the men stared at you in shock. Steve and Bucky gaped like you had just told them the Germans had actually won WWII. Eyebrows knit together, blue eyes wide and frantic, Bucky looked like he was in emotional turmoil.

“(Y/N), doll, it’s okay. It’s me. It’s your alpha.” Bucky reached out to you carefully as a low purr rumbled from his chest.

You felt the purr relax you and dull your senses even more. It was nauseating. “I don’t have an alpha! And I don’t know who the hell you are!” You tried to shout and grit your teeth but the words came out in broken sobs, betraying your weakness. Who was this? Why was he the most terrifying thing you had ever seen?

Your teeth were bared at this point but the man kept coming towards you. The tunnel vision and rapid shallow breaths were the only warnings your body gave you as it reverted to its animalistic omega framework. Bucky watched as, in slow motion, your eyes went blank as your body gave out. 

+++

Your alpha held your body to his chest in disbelief. He had expected some shock at seeing him but this went far beyond his expectations. It had been over three years since he'd last seen you. Since he'd last been able to drink in your scent. He'd figured you might not recognize him at first. He had changed a lot over the years. No longer under Hydra's control his physical appearance, demeanor, and scent had changed. But your body should've known your alpha. 

"What was that?" Steve asked. "Why did she react like that when she has your mark?" The two alphas were on edge. Seeing a vulnerable omega drop triggered their protective instincts. Steve desperately wanted to take you and hold you close, ease you out of the drop. If the alpha holding you was anyone other than his closest friend and packmate he would have ripped you out of his grasp immediately. For now he'd have to hold himself back.

"She didn't remember me." Bucky nuzzled his head into your neck, nursing your mark softly. After a moment he pulled back and gazed at your unchanged features. He couldn't wake you from this drop that easily. He pressed in harder this time, teeth lining up with the scar perfectly, but there was still no change. No purr, command, or bite was waking you up.

"We should let her rest, Buck. The pain meds will wear off soon and we'll try again. . . Bring her to the den. She'll need to get used to everyone's scents sooner or later." Steve laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. It was a gentle but firm suggestion. He knew tensions were high, the den, with it's heavy curtains and plush blankets, would calm down his friend and the omega. With little argument the brunette lifted you up and carried you to the den. It was aptly named and extremely well constructed thanks to Stark. Curtains blocked off all light from the windows, mattresses were inlaid into the ground, and the temperature was always cool. It was one good thing about being in a pack with that narcissist, Bucky thought dryly.

Steve led them into a cozy corner of the room. The captain hummed happily as they moved the pillows and blankets, creating a makeshift nest for the three of them. The feeling of the omega pressing into his chest was addictive. He couldn't wait for you to remember your alpha.

The sooner you remembered your bond with Bucky the sooner the rest of the pack, Steve included, could court you.

[pomegranates-and-blood]

Warmth (500 Celebration)

500 Celebration Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Prompt: From the Quotes category: “Winter’s only pretty when you’re warm.”

Word Count: 4477 (😬)

Warnings: Ivar’s inner thoughts, so by extension his self-esteem issues; some implied and not-so-implied ableism; the beginning of this is a little heavy on its focus on Ivar’s mobility through Kattegat (but that’s not the focus of the drabble); a shyer, softer, sulkier Ivar I suppose; Ivar being a tad obsessive; this fucker is Pining™; and this is probably very OOC, I’m rusty, sorry.

A/N: Btw, timeline-wise this is a different Ivar than I usually write, like before/around the time of Ragnar’s return, so take that into account.

I know I’ve been away for a while, and I don’t yet know when -or even if- I’ll be back, but I wanted to get this done today since it’s the birthday of the wonderful @youbloodymadgenius​​, and she deserves all the love and all the Ivar (especially soft Ivar 😉)! So, I wanted this to be a little hopefully not too late and not too awful birthday present! Thank you for being the incredible person you are, for all your support, and for blessing us with your brilliant writing, I honestly cannot imagine this fandom without you! I wish you all the best, Cat! I hope you had a great day, and that you like this little gift 😘

Ivar often avoids coming to this part of Kattegat at this time, always too crowded and too loud, too lively, for him to feel comfortable moving about, for him to be able to ignore that always-prodding sensation of their eyes on him, for him not to feel this dawning and bitter shame at having them able to see him.

And it is even rarer that he takes this path, because while it is a much more direct way to get to the center of the market, the narrow and sinuous streets make it harder to avoid the brushing of people’s legs against him or the occasional shove as he crawls in between the hurried merchants and thralls.

But he had no choice today, he left the longhouse later than he usually does to avoid his brothers -who had taken the cold morning as an excuse to linger longer in their home-, lest Ubbe gets any ideas about asking where Ivar has been going almost every day as of late, or Sigurd spits some jab that actually gets to Ivar and sours his mood further; and so he has to bear the dirtier streets and harder passage to make it on time.

It is much easier to move through Kattegat’s streets when he has someone else beside him, Ivar is strikingly aware of that, even more so now that his teeth grit and anger blares within him when someone stumbles over his bound legs. When Ubbe is walking with him, or Hvitserk, neither has any qualms about grunting orders that people move out of the way; and when his mother is, people seem to move out of the way as if compelled by her presence alone.

But when it is just him, they don’t even think twice about walking past him, they don’t seem to care about stepping on his hand or stumbling on his useless legs as this idiot did. And the realization of how invisible he continues to be, even when their eyes are always on him, lingering, studying, pitying, dawns on him each time he ventures out on his own, as if there’s some part of him that thinks anything will change.

Ivar offers only a few grunted words at the man that says something as he straightens so as not to fall, not caring if it is an apology or a curse that he spouts, refusing to even look at him as he continues crawling.

As always, the small incident lingers on his mind, and he is once again pulled between doing something, anything, so that they are forced to notice him, so that they cannot ignore him; and keeping his mouth shut, keeping his temper in check, and hoping that by not bringing attention to himself he can be one more in the crowd, not the cripple they step over or the prince they ought to fear, but just one more man going to the market.

And, swallowing down the irritation, the intrusive thoughts that taunt him -much in the cadence of Sigurd’s voice- about how pathetic it is to hope for such things, Ivar stays quiet, continuing his path to the spot where he knows he’ll see you.

All of this would be much easier if you enjoyed venturing into the woods or lingering by the riverbank, Ivar would much rather crawl through the moss and roots of the forests near Kattegat or the coarse sand of the shore than spend another moment surrounded by all these people; but no, you have made visiting the market a part of your almost-daily routine a while ago, and he doubts it will change anytime soon, especially as winter settles upon Kattegat.

He hears you before he sees you, your voice distinct amongst the loud crowd of the market as you praise the design on a belt he cannot see from where he is just yet.

Before he realizes, Ivar is forcing his body to move more quickly, excitement bubbling somewhere in his chest at the possibility of seeing you, at the reassurance that he wasn’t too late, despite everything.

Arms straining under the effort, he moves himself behind one of the painted stones that adorn the main market. Resting his elbows on the stone, he leans over to be able to see the bubbling streets, eyes searching for you and finding you by one of the furthest stalls.

While he usually prefers to ignore it, Ivar knows it isn’t normal to do this, it isn’t normal to chase after moments of your routine where he can insert himself, it isn’t normal to let a woman he never talks to invade his thoughts like this. He knows, but…he has never felt as he did that one time he got to be close to you, and while this isn’t quite the same, just getting to see you lets him feel some of that residual warmth, some vestige of what you seem to carry with you wherever you go.

The days where he gets to see you, even if it is from afar, the days where he gets to hear your voice or hear you laugh, are just…better. The cold of winter isn’t quite as biting when he has the memory of you, it doesn’t dare seep into his bones so cruelly when he moves with the expectation to see you again.

And quietly, in pathetic fantasies he barely admits to himself most of the time, he imagines that eventually, one of these days he will have it in him to approach you, to talk to you, and you will look at him in the way he hopes you could, and perhaps there could be more to wanting you than this.

“It must have taken quite a while to engrave this.” You are telling the vendor, a question even if you don’t voice it as one. The man nods with a smile, pointing to a specific part of the belt you hold and murmuring words Ivar doesn’t care to pay attention to.

Ivar has the errant realization that if he hadn’t spent the last of his coin on the most recent -and failed- attempt at some support for his legs that could let him stand, he perhaps could buy this for you.

He knows your family is doing well, he still remembers the dress and jewels you wore on the day you two met during last Jól’s celebrations and knows that anything this market can offer pales in comparison, but there’s a part of him, however stupid, that wishes he could buy you gifts, like normal men do for the women they are pursuing.

Then again, you would never know it was him that bought it for you, Ivar is honest enough with himself to admit that he would go to great lengths to make sure it remained a secret it was him. He’d rather allow himself the doubt of what your reaction to his interest would be, than try to get any certainty and face your scorn, or ridicule.

That is how it has always been, that has always been what he has preferred. Which is why, even after all this time, he keeps to himself, he keeps his distance. Though, it feels harder and harder to accomplish as the days go by, and his fascination with you only grows.

It has been almost a year since he met you, yet there is scarcely a day where you don’t cross his mind, and as months have gone by, not many days go by in between the times he makes sure he gets to see you.

And while quite some time has passed since that first meeting, it is still a memory he never could -nor wanted- to get rid of.

He had been sitting somewhere close to one of the hearths but as far from the bulk of the crowd as he could manage, bound legs set up close to the fire in an attempt to stave off the creeping cold that made his bones strain under a dull ache, when he first heard your voice. Your laugh, to be more precise.

You were laughing your protest as a girl of rosy cheeks and wide smile tried dragging you to the center of the main hall to keep dancing with her, and Ivar wasn’t really paying attention to either of you, not until you stumbled backwards to sit right beside him, wrenching your hands from your friend’s grip.

He doesn’t quite remember what words you exchanged with her, but he knows she had tried telling you that a night of festivity was not one to spend alone in an attempt to entice you to keep dancing, and he remembers how you hesitated only for a moment before your eyes set on him.

And he doesn’t think he will ever forget how it felt to be granted a smile as wide and warm as the one you offered then, chasing off the chill of winter with nothing but a curve of your lips.

I am not alone, you had told the girl, eyes lingering on the encounter with his for a breath too long before you turned to her, I have a friend here to keep me company.

He had felt flare up within him that pull to be guarded, and for a moment he had given in to that instinct to search for mockery, but you were still offering such a sweet smile that he remained silent, almost believing you.

And he should have. Believed you, that is. He should have trusted that you were being honest.

He regrets that he didn’t, he wishes he hadn’t hesitated for so long to accept the tentative conversation you had decided to start, he resents his body for tensing up against his will when you decided to sit closer; even if it cost him nothing but a few moments and the phantom warmth of more closeness to you, he still regrets it.

Because you did find company with him, that night. You sat beside him and talked until the sun threatened to rise, you stayed by his side and offered that warmth -that he learned that first night went beyond that smile that first ensnared him- that he hasn’t quite learned to let go of just yet until the last of the revelers had left the longhouse. That night, you told him your name and he told you his, he made you laugh and the warmth that filled his chest when he found himself as the reason behind that sound didn’t leave for a while, and when you made him chuckle you blurted out that he had a pretty smile and made his heart stutter its beat.

He still remembers all of it, he remembers because for one night what he was or wasn’t didn’t matter, for one night he was just a man, sitting beside a beautiful woman and somehow enough to have her smile his way.

He didn’t see you often after that night, not at the beginning. It was the last night of the festivities, after all, and he had no excuse to go find you. Perhaps he did, but it didn’t matter, because what is true now was true then: he’d rather keep his distance, keep his uncertainties -and the tentative fantasies that the uncertainty lets blossom in his mind-, instead of facing the truth and being forced to realize that that night meant nothing, or worse, that once you realized who it was you had spent your time with, that night meant a mistake to you.

But eventually, almost without realizing, Ivar found himself lingering by the market stalls where he had caught a glimpse of you one morning, or watching from afar as you walked arm-in-arm with some girl by the edge of the shoreline. And because he is nothing if not observant, quickly he made out what your routine consisted of, and managed to find himself nearby whenever he could, if only to get a glimpse of you.

“Ivar!” A voice calls, wrenching him away from his thoughts with startling violence. He has the errant impulse to show his irritation at how easily he let himself be ordered back to the present, but he finds himself on the other end of your gaze, and stays silent. Looking at you with wide eyes, he can only wait to hear you speak again, not really certain that he hasn’t imagined you calling his name. You step closer, saying, “I…I was wondering if you were well, I-…you haven’t been around in a while.”

His thoughts stumble over each other, jumbled and erratic, but it lingers in his mind the tentative realization that you remembered his name. It has almost been a year, and yet you remembered his name, you remembered him.

But before the pathetic hope can take root, Ivar reminds himself that he is many things, but he isn’t someone easily mistakeable with someone else. In Kattegat, everyone knows who he is, and he can’t decide if that is a curse or a blessing, but they know he is Ivar the Boneless, the crippled son of Ragnar Lothbrok. Of course you know who he is, of course you know his name.

And he also cannot help but linger, more importantly maybe, in the fact that you not only were aware of his presence here in the market at the same time as you, but also paid enough attention to notice his absence. And…he isn’t sure what to make of it, what he is supposed to think.

In the back of his mind, a voice likening your eyes to all the eyes he feels on him as he moves about Kattegat gets louder and louder, until the familiar tinge of irritation and that strange shame seep into his thoughts, and it is impossible to ignore it.

He knows that being bothered by the possibility of you watching him is hypocritical of him, he knows. Still, he must ask,

“You noticed?”

You seem to hesitate before answering, absently toying with the strings of your belt, “Uhm, yes. I see you often here, and I…I hadn’t seen you in a while.”

He has no intention of telling you what it was that kept him from venturing to see you in the market these past couple of weeks, because he might not be able to hide from you that he is a cripple, he might not be able to make you see anything more than that; but he can keep you from looking upon him with pity, with disgust, or at least he can try, and so he refuses to share tales of broken bones and days of unending pain.

Instead, he tells you, perhaps more gruffly than he intended,

“I’m fine.”

“I’m glad,” You reply quickly, with a fleeting smile. Ivar realizes he ought to say something if he wants to keep you from leaving, he knows the silence is continuing for too long now. And he wishes he could find something to say, he tries recalling your last meeting to find something, but here all their eyes are on him, here he is so uncomfortably exposed, and he has nothing to say, he no longer has it in him to say something that can make you smile. Thankfully, before he can say anything -or let the silence linger for any longer-, you look back at the market around you and start, “The night we met you told me you enjoyed watching people go about. Is that why you’re here?”

That isn’t exactly true, at least not now, not here, not for him. Ivar enjoys watching people, he entertains himself when he can keep himself as an observant of the world around him, but here, now, he can’t quite do that. Being here now, from the path he had to take to get here to being the one that gets to have your attention, means that while he might be able to watch them, they can definitely watch him. And it unsettles him in a way he cannot put into words.

But, still he concedes, and offers truth regardless, “Most people ignore me. When people forget that you are even there, they give away secrets very easily.”

And the dry humor, or the attempt at it anyhow, manages to get a chuckle out of you, and the pride that fills his chest at the sight is unexpected, but not unwelcome. He is the reason behind that smile, behind that warmth, at least for now.

“It is only their fault if you share those secrets, is it not?” You prompt, an edge of mirth in your tone that Ivar finds himself smiling to without even realizing.

Refusing to let this end just yet, Ivar gestures with a hand, inviting you to join him. To his surprise, you do, gathering a fistful of your dress as you sit down on the stone he is resting on.

Ivar isn’t sure what to do, resisting the pointless urge to fidget, to do something with his hands. He chooses instead to watch as you carefully smooth the skirt of your dress, and just because he refuses to let this stupid tension get the better of him, when you return your gaze to him, he doesn’t let his eyes look away from yours as they usually do.

And just as you did then, you and that stubborn warmth, you and that disarming gentleness, make him feel at ease almost without him realizing; and before long you are exchanging truths of your own in between the observations and secrets of the people around you.

“Jól is approaching,” He starts after a while, interrupting the comfortable silence that had settled as you both watched people go about their days, ignoring the both of you. He truly hopes what had been a plan formulating in his head for a few weeks now isn’t too apparent when he continues, “Will I…will I see you during this year’s celebrations?”

Your smile widens, softens, and it is only then, with that warmth shining in your eyes and that sweet curve of your smile, that Ivar realizes he had been missing this exact feeling since the first night he met you, this strange tightness in his chest, this nervousness making his heart quicken.

“I wouldn’t dare miss them,” For a moment he believes there is something more to your words, and almost dares hope that you are saying what he wants to hear, but he refuses to let his stupid heart do this to him. A little more wistful, you continue, “Ever since my father brought us to Kattegat, the winter festivities have been my favorite.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Winter here is…beautiful.”

To him it is the opposite of that, to him winter means aches in his legs that no hearths or furs can chase away, means fingers stiff and aching from the cold after crawling outside for too long, means Sigurd having no choice but to spend more time inside and thus finding every opportunity to make Ivar’s mood even worse. There is nothing beautiful about winter.

But he looks back at you, at the glint in your eye and the expectant edge to your smile, and he gathers winter ought to be all that when someone is as warm as you. Perhaps you barely feel the cold of it, perhaps you scarcely notice the cruelty of it.

“To you, maybe.” He quips, and even to his own ears it sounds bitter, but you still smile.

“I could attempt to change your mind, but even I must admit there is not much beautiful about today’s cold,” You concede with a scoff, seeming to hesitate only for a moment before you stand up. “I should-…”

“Can I see you again?” He blurts before he can let his thoughts tangle themselves further, breath caught in his throat as he awaits an answer, a bitter restlessness taking a hold of him as he awaits what he is certain will be rejection.

The breath you seem to take as you consider his question seems to last an eternity, seems to make time move painfully slowly for that faint moment where Ivar faces nothing but uncertainty.

But you smile, and every moment that dragged by seems to rush to meet the present, threatening to knock the breath out of him and making his heart speed up as if to make up for the time where it beat more slowly, expectant.

“I’d love to,” You reply, and this time when you smile, he dares smile back. “Perhaps somewhere warmer, no?”

____

Even as time passes by it, Kattegat refuses to change, that is something the last two years have taught Ivar.

He and his brothers, alongside the Great Army, have spent almost the entirety of these two years away from Kattegat, from what once was home. The first winter, too caught up in their rush to hold their advantage in Christian land in their quest to avenge their father, and the second, unwilling to risk losing any ground and choosing instead to stay with the army during the colder months to strengthen their hold in York and Repton.

But now they are back, and though he will admit their mother’s threats of what ought to happen if they continue to avoid returning to her for at least a season are part of the reason they have returned, there is also something like nostalgia clouding his brothers’ eyes, making them miss what they consider home.

Well, not all of his brothers. Surprisingly enough, it is with Sigurd that Ivar finds he has the most in common right now, both of them having accepted that Kattegat, in its stubborn refusal to accept the pass of time, in its unwavering permanence, has long since stopped being home.

Nothing changes in Kattegat, not really. If he’s honest with himself, Ivar has to admit that is part of the reason he has delayed his return to the town that saw him be born. A part of him held this irrational, pathetic fear that, somehow, all that he has earned for himself would be taken from him upon his return, that everything that has changed would reveal itself to be a mirage once he let Kattegat have him within its grasp.

He has since then accepted that such fears were pointless paranoia, but still in his mind lingers the feeling that, for better or worse, especially now as the Jól celebrations go on around him as they did when he was younger, nothing changes in Kattegat.

He catches sight of you across the room, sees you standing by the side doors of the main hall, looking out into the cold winter night; and before he realizes he is doing it, he is walking towards you.

His steps aren’t exactly silent, so he isn’t surprised that you turn around to face him, but still he stops, just for a breath, to look at you.

Ivar, once again in the position of being the distant observer, finds that perhaps it is not only Kattegat that refuses to change alongside time, perhaps he does as well.

Because it is barely a moment, barely a glimpse of you in the warm light of the fires, watching the shadows of the flames trace over your skin, and all the years and the wars and the changes mean nothing. Barely a moment, and he is once again a boy, looking at you across the distance that separates you, breath hitching when your eyes find his, once again half-awed and half-hopeful as you offer him a warm smile.

He watches you make your way to him, and in those moments, in those moments of baited breath as he watches you come closer and closer, he forgets. He forgets that it is his ring on your finger, he forgets that if he pulls down the neckline of your dress his marks can be seen littering your chest, he forgets that there’s still the remnant of your taste on his lips from the last kiss you shared, he forgets.

He watches you approach, and a nervous sort of thrill runs down his spine, and his thoughts chase themselves in circles and his tongue feels tied with no blame to be assigned to mead; and he has to force himself not to look away.

When you are close enough, you reach for him, and without thinking twice Ivar gives you his hand, feeling his lips curve into a smile as you intertwine your fingers with his.

“One more season spent in Kattegat,” You murmur quietly, accepting the tug of his hand and coming closer until your head is resting on his chest. Sighing as you burrow against him, you add in a mumble, “Winter is still beautiful here.”

With you safe and solid in his arms now, and the memory of that first night still fresh on his mind, the warmth of you and your love making it hard to remember any winter where the cold dared reach him; Ivar is almost inclined to agree.

“During Jól, perhaps,” Is all he concedes instead. You accept his words with a shrug, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye, letting go of his hand in exchange for holding onto his sides when Ivar leans closer to whisper by your ear, “They say that a night of celebration isn’t one to spend alone, you know.”

You lift your brows, offering a quiet hum in question as you press closer, your arms draped over his shoulders, one hand idly trailing over the back of his neck. Ivar doesn’t bother hiding the want to feel you closer, and brings his free hand to your hip and holds you against him, lowering his head so he can taste your kiss.

Your lips are soft against his, the faint taste of mead sweetening your kiss. Ivar sighs against your lips, leaning even closer to you, but keeping the kiss slow, purposeful, even as you part your lips for his tongue to venture into your mouth.

The barely-there tightening of your hold on the back of his neck makes a shiver run down his spine, the edges of his mind dull into something softer, something that lets him think only of you.

You pull back first, but the evidence of his kiss is still upon your lips, is still quickening your breath. Ivar licks his own lips, chasing the phantom taste of you, before pressing his brow against yours, letting his eyes fall closed.

“But I am not alone. I have you to keep me company, do I not?” You tease, a sweetness in your tone that Ivar has always been weak against, and so he leans to capture your mouth again, if only to taste that sweetness of your voice against his own lips.

Thank you for reading! It has been quite a long time since I’ve written anything for Ivar, I feel very rusty when it comes to all of this, especially characterization, so I am truly sorry if this isn’t any good.

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