#it is my own judgement i am projecting on him and then receiving

[becomingkatie]

I went down to Brevard a few weeks ago to visit my mom. She's taken up pottery and arranged for me to have a lesson at her studio. It was a really nice visit overall - I love love that area and I hadn't seen her place since she moved there a year or so ago.

Ken and I have become recluses since covid. We got used to not going out, and now going out feels overwhelming and hard, especially for him. I'm going a bit crazy feeling like we don't go places and do things. There's a bowling alley near our place - like so close I pass by it any time I go out for a walk basically. I've been saying for ages that we should go, and Ken grumbles and grumbles because he doesn't want to. After a week where I basically had a breakdown in tears of "I can't keep living like this," we went bowling. Surprise, surprise - he had a great time. I hurt my wrist. But it was still fun!

My birthday was last Friday and Ken made this espresso chocolate chip cake (recipe is Sally's Baking Addiction) and it is sooo tasty.

Aaand writing this post out I feel my throat squeezing and eyes burning. I feel like there's some crying to be done. I just don't feel happy lately. I'm not happy with the life we've fallen into, and I'm just having a rough time. I discontinued my anti-depressants maybe a month ago, and I feel good about that decision. I don't feel depressed - I am sad and frustrated with some specific things, but not generally like "I can't get up and do the laundry, that feels too hard" kind of depression. But the withdrawal has meant some irritability and the WORST restless legs. And sleeping poorly night after night after night doesn't help me feel better.

Anyway, things aren't really that bad. But I'm feeling pretty disappointed in my life lately. Trying to make some different choices to stop it from stagnating in this place where I'm unhappy. And even through all that disappointment, there have been some really good things, like kayaking around a lake with my mom, and eating green beans I grew in the garden, and taking a cold shower after a long walk in the hot, humid summer air.

[cilil]

Fëanor and Nerdanel for 27 (pegging) please :D

Gentle June

AN: Good one! I hope you don't mind that I also threw in some praise kink and gentle dom, it felt right x) @tolkienpinupcalendar here I go!

❀ Prompt: Pegging, praise kink, gentle dom | Fëanor x Nerdanel ❀ Synopsis: Nerdanel finds that Fëanor has been rude, and rude Elves get pegged. ❀ Warnings: Smut, the prompts, Fëanor has mommy (and daddy) issues ❀ Short oneshot (~850 words)

"You are a naughty boy, Fëanáro." 

Nerdanel embraced him from behind, trapping him against his workbench and caging him with her strong arms. Fëanáro turned his head to receive a kiss, his project swiftly forgotten and his tools slipping out of his shaking grasp.

"Y-yes," he agreed, uncharacteristically docile. 

Nerdanel rewarded him with a giggle and another kiss. "I wonder what your mother would have to say to that."

She said it in a casual, teasing tone, yet they were both aware of the effect such words had on him. The blush on Fëanáro's face was deeply red like this tunic, extending all the way to the tips of his ears, and he instinctively leaned forward the second he felt his wife gently pushing against him. He loved the sensation of her weight on him, loved forgetting about pride and status and simply melting to be moulded by her strong, capable hands.

"Where is your toy, Fëanáro?" Nerdanel asked, calm and serious as if it was a normal, innocent conversation. 

Fëanáro, however, knew exactly what she had in mind and pressed his lips together to stifle a moan. "There's one in a box right here, second drawer next to my right knee. I made it earlier, just as you asked." 

"And the strap and oil?" 

"Also in the box." 

Nerdanel patted his backside appreciatively. "So you can be good."

"Only for you."

"And only for me will you improve your behaviour in other areas as well." 

Fëanáro opted to not talk back, instead listening to his wife retrieving the desired items, unceremoniously undoing his apron and pulling down his breeches. Here he was no crown prince or master smith, here he was but an unruly Elf waiting to get fucked with a toy of his own making. 

Nerdanel didn't bother undressing. She skillfully placed the strap around her hips and attached the toy before beginning to rub oil over it, her free hand resting on her husband's lower back to hold him down in the meantime. 

"What was that with the queen yesterday?" she began her brief interrogation.

"My father’s wife was disrespectful towards me," Fëanáro grumbled. He had known this would be brought up and prepared himself, though his anger had long since been extinguished by the far more pleasing prospect of punishment for his actions. 

Nerdanel's judgement was swift. "She wasn't. You were. And you knew your mother would be as disappointed as I am."

"Maybe."

"Fëanáro."

"Fine. I was..." He swallowed. "I was bad." 

His reward was a warm hand rubbing oil all over his entrance. 

"Well done, my love. And now you will make it up to me." 

Fëanáro nodded. "Yes, my lady." 

When it was his turn to be disciplined, he didn't receive further preparation, but he knew Nerdanel's intention wasn't to hurt him and the toy had been designed accordingly. Instead of the usual bulbous tips of more phallic designs, it had a tapered end and only slowly increased in circumference, interspersed with rounded, bead-like sections that served both as a more pleasurable texture and a scale of how much he managed to take. 

He lowered his head and did his best to relax. Nerdanel took her time pushing into him, the tip sliding in easily, then progressing bead by bead. The first two he barely felt, the third made him moan, the fourth proved to be a bit of a challenge, but she gently rocked back and forth a few times until he managed. 

"Good boy," she praised. "I knew you could do it." 

Fëanáro glowed with pride. Ambitious in all things, he wanted to show her just how good he could be, but Nerdanel decided it was enough. Instead, she took hold of his hips and began to thrust, decisively this time. His hole clenched around the toy, his mouth fell open. It felt so good, with its texture rubbing against his rim with every movement and its tip reaching deep inside, just where he wanted it. He could hear himself moan, but barely registered it as his own voice, his senses focused on that delicious sensation. 

There was no unnecessary flourish this time, no slowing down. Only raw physicality, driven by Nerdanel's strength and determination. Her goal was clear, and she handled him with the same precision and expertise as she handled her statues. 

It was impossible for Fëanáro to resist her for too long. He felt his muscles contract and the wet sensation of come spilling all over his stomach and workbench before he knew what happened. The toy being swiftly pulled out of him nearly prompted a needy whine, yet he knew better — he wasn't going to be rewarded until later, when she decided he had behaved himself. 

Nerdanel leaned over him, reddish-brown hair falling over him like a curtain. "You will go clean yourself up and then apologise to your father and his queen," she said calmly. "I will see you in the evening. Until then, be good." 

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @asianbutnotjapanese @elanna-elrondiel @i-did-not-mean-to @numenhore @urwendii

[parjiljehavey]

Judgement Day

A retelling of Sith Inquisitor Act III from the point of view of Darth Ravage. It's basically me following a little plot bunny that came from this line of Thanaton's during the Voss missions: "I love you like my own child. But you are a blight upon the Sith Order and must be purged." Content warnings: Canon typical violence, Torture, Implied dysfunctional family dynamics ------------ Pick up your rope, Lord, sling it to me If we are to battle, I must not be weak

“Thanaton will likely plead for our aid, and Kallig is pursuing Thanaton,” Decimus concluded in his recounting of the duel on Corellia as they all gathered inside the council chambers on Korriban. 

Darth Baras had called for a special session, and Darth Decimus saw fit to inform the rest of the council on what they had missed of the Kaggath between Darth Thanaton and Lord Kallig while they waited for Darth Vowrawn, Darth Thanaton, and Darth Baras to arrive. Darth Zhorrid had not dared show her face since they had disciplined her for her insolence three years ago and more are the better for it; Zhorrid was an insipid child who had demanded their respect when she had not earned it. Darth Marr in particular had been harsh.

Darth Decimus was open in his support of Lord Kallig, at first purely out of spite to Thanaton who had he had always held in little regard, and then out of recognition for Kallig’s service during the Battle of Corellia, calling her the Conqueror of Corellia and the first among a new generation of Imperial heroes. From what Ravage had seen, she had the support of the Imperial military, allying herself with Moffs like Pyron. Darth Mekhis had designed the Silencer, but Kallig had seen the project to completion and it had proven to be a devastating weapon against the Republic. 

“I met Kallig as my forces were landing. She is quite powerful for one so young,” Darth Hadra chimed in.

Decimus grinned viciously, “She is like an akk dog with a bone. She keeps her brutality on a tight leash, but it is there. She’ll carve a path of destruction through all of us to get to Thanaton.”

Ravage scoffed, dismissing the idea that a lord could take on the entire Dark Council outright. In Ravage's eyes, Kallig may be able to defeat Thanaton, but that was because Thanaton had always been weak. It was not as if Thanaton was someone like Darth Baras, with deep connections and webs even into the Republic, or like Vowrawn, who had been the orchestrator of many a downfall, or Marr, whose martial prowess was unmatched. 

He held that opinion until Kallig entered the council chambers during Thanaton’s petition after Baras’s corpse had been removed. 

“My lords, her master was corrupt! She is corrupt! Without Sith tradition, we are nothing!” Thanaton’s pleas were passionate but reeked of desperation. 

Ravage heard the chamber door open and saw from the corner of his eye Darth Vowrawn turn to look, as the one sitting closest. He could feel Vowrawn’s amusement increase. 

“And what are you suggesting that we do about it?” Darth Marr demanded. He had received the news of the Kaggath with the same disdain and contempt as he did with all Sith infighting and he likely viewed this as Thanaton trying to use the council in his scheme to crush a rival.

Thanaton continued, believing he was making headway. They all knew that if Thanaton could convince Darth Marr to aid him, Vowrawn and Rictus would follow. “We all know what the situation requires. Order must be preserved and punishment meted out. If we are to conquer our enemies, Zash’s former apprentice must die!”

“Well, well. I am truly flattered that you talk about me to all your friends, Darth Thanaton. You shouldn’t have.” Lord Kallig cooed words honey-sweet and laced with poison. Kallig cocked her head, stance changing ever so slightly as she stalked her prey. An akk dog with a bone indeed. The mask gave a skeletal impression, and the black armor scoured by battle lent a fearsome appearance to one so small.

Thanaton spun on his and was spitting mad when he saw her. “Our talk concerns the future of the Sith Order! A future, without you!”

“Yes, yes. I am a plague upon the Sith. Blah, blah, blah, blah.” She clicked her tongue, the sound sharp through the vocoder, “Your crony outside said the same thing. My sympathies, by the by, he is dead now.”

Thanaton was furious, stumbling over his words. Ravage rolled his eyes. “Then why haven’t you killed her yet?” 

Lord Kallig did not bother to mask her emotions or hide them. She was amused, like a nexu playing with its food. Thanaton turned to Ravage with the same fury he had Kallig. “You know as well as I do that these matters require proper rites.” 

Ravage growled at Thanaton’s righteous tone. Lord Kallig interrupted them, “You have had your chance to plead your case, Thanaton, now it is mine.” She addressed the council directly. “Darth Thanaton abandoned the arena for the Kaggath when he abandoned Corellia. By his own rules and rites, his life is forfeit. It was forfeited long before he left Corellia. It was forfeit when he stalled the Imperial offensive to cripple me, which is also against the rules of Kaggath.” 

Decimus nodded, “Kallig speaks true.” 

“We are well aware of the rules of Kaggath,” Mortis said.

That did not, however, change Ravage’s own opinion regarding Kaggath. “The Kaggath is a playground game. Murder has no rules.” 

“The Kaggath is an honored Sith tradition!” Thanaton was outraged, as he was with all things that went against the traditions he so loved. “Tulak Hord competed! Marka Ragnos! Ludo Kressh!” 

Ignoring Thanaton, Kallig plowed ahead. “His charges against me are false. Zash was corrupt, I shall not deny that. When she tried to kill me, I defended myself, as Thanaton himself encouraged me to do, and as is my right per both the law and tradition .” She hissed the last word, looking at Thanaton as she did. “When I tried to serve Thanaton, he attempted to kill me and has continued to do so since. Once more, I am well within my rights to defend myself.”

Ravage looked to Mortis, who was impressed if his smile was anything to go by. Darth Gravus was Mortis’s ally, and he supported Lord Kallig. By Kallig showing she knew the laws, she had just won Darth Mortis over. With Darth Decimus already supporting her, she now had two councilors on her side of the matter. Darth Mortis would uphold all Sith and Imperial laws. Thanaton had signed his death warrant no matter how this session concluded. Ravage looked around the room to gauge them. 

Darth Vowrawn would side with whomever he deemed the most interesting, as was his way. Darth Hadra would likely choose Kallig. Darth Marr would only go the way of what was best for the Empire, as he did in all matters. Acharon would choose who he deemed the most competent. Darth Aruk and Darth Rictus were the only true mysteries. Ravage would most likely choose Kallig if he were to be completely honest, if only to thumb his nose at Thanaton.

Darth Marr looked to Thanaton, “The question remains: why has this apprentice, this child, proven impossible for you to kill?” 

“Quite simple, really,” Kallig said. “I beat him at his own game.”

“Do not mock me!” Thanaton hissed.

Ravage had had enough, turning to Mortis. “I swear, if you don’t silence Thanaton, I will!” 

Kallig harrumphed. She removed her helm, revealing blonde hair bound in braids wrapped around her head. The angle of her nose and jaw tickled Ravage’s brain as familiar. Her accent was Low Ziostian without the obscurity of a vocoder. “It is not considered mockery if it is true.” 

Thanaton seethed at the council, “I will not be betrayed. I will not die. Once I have killed this slave, you will all answer for it.” Thanaton ignited his lightsaber, turning to face his rival. 

Lord Kallig was pacing as ice-cold power and rage seethed from her, twirling her dualsaber around. It was an older make, with a dark purple crystal at the center and two sharp metal blades at each end. 

“I have long forgiven your childish behavior and your shortcomings,” Kallig’s words were bitter and piqued Ravage’s interest. There was a history there, beyond what was happening now. Kallig continued, “You may very well kill me, Thanaton.” She spat out his name like it was poison. “But should you survive, you won’t forget me and I will haunt you for the rest of your days.”

Kallig disappeared in a dark cloud, reappearing moments later with a burst of black energy and purple lightning crackling across her violet blade as she struck, releasing a ball of lightning into Thanaton’s face before dipping low and using the Force to spin rapidly, lightning coming down and striking Thanaton, hitting his barrier. 

Thanaton released a wave, throwing Kallig away from him only for her to disappear and reappear again behind him. He turned and unleashed a blast of lightning at her, leaving Kallig no other option but to roll away from him. She landed on a knee, reigniting her dual saber behind her. Thanaton did not give her a moment to breathe, unleashing a storm and forcing her to move. Kallig twisted and turned, weaving in and out of the strikes Thanaton called down onto her. Her left hand moved as she summoned something, speaking in a low tone. She used the Force to run past Ravage and Mortis, and Ravage heard the Old Sith tongue. She was casting a spell. 

A spell that she unleashed, coming to a halt and casting it at Thanaton when he tried to heal himself. Thanaton shouted, grasping his head and Ravage could hear something being crushed as he was forced to stop casting. Kallig disappeared again in a shroud of energy. Ravage reached out to sense her, only grasping a trace before it disappeared again. She was hiding herself, waiting for a moment to strike. He glanced over to Rictus, who commanded numerous assassin-trained Sith and he was grinning. 

Thanaton dispelled whatever Kallig had cast on him, raising his head to reveal bloodshot eyes and a bleeding nose. He looked around rapidly, turning as he searched for his rival. A shimmer of purple to his right caught the attention of the room and Thanaton as well. Thanaton prepared to meet her, only for Kallig to appear at his left and Thanaton barely had time to ignite his blade to block her attack. Rictus cackled as she struck, violet locking against red. They stood in a standoff of might, pushing back against the other physically and when neither would move, they both resorted to trying to push the other with the Force turning it into a battle of wills. The chamber creaked, metal scraping together harshly. They would bring the room down upon them all, Ravage thought, looking up as the ceiling shuddered. 

They both ended up pushing the other away, Thanaton falling to the ground and Kallig managing to catch herself, spinning in a rapid movement to do so. Kallig stared down her opponent, teeth bared. She was whispering in the Old Tongue again, her left-hand contorting. Ravage was close enough to see her skin turn corpse-pale and her eyes burn red. 

 Thanaton was gasping, struggling for air as he floundered on the floor. Thanaton struggled to stand, pulling himself to his feet only to be met by Kallig casting another spell on him. A death field tore away his strength, dropping him back to a knee and Kallig rose to her feet, reinvigorated by what she had taken from Thanaton. He had lost. Ravage sat back, waiting for the killing blow to be struck. Kallig seemed to have some honor, allowing Thanaton to get to his feet. 

“No, I won’t be defeated. I can’t be.” Thanaton was in denial. Kallig stood, awaiting his surrender which Thanaton would not give. The fool did not know when he was beaten. 

Thanaton tried to attack her with force lightning, only for Kallig to redirect it above their heads as she advanced on him. The ceiling groaned, a corner popping loose. Thanaton then summoned a storm, unleashing it upon Kallig forcing her to stop as she was engulfed in a maelstrom of dark energy and lightning that Thanaton continued to throw at her. It generated a violent current of air in the chamber, swirling around Kallig in blinding light. Thanaton stopped his assault, shifting as he waited with hope in his heart. 

Only for that hope to be vanquished when with a thunderous rumble that shook the Academy itself, the maelstrom was absorbed by Kallig, who emerged with flashing purple eyes and cloaked in dark side energy. Behind her, four pale forms appeared, stunning the council who all leaned forward as if their eyes deceived them. Lightning still jumped across her and with a shake of her hand, it was gone entirely as were the ghosts.

Kallig was a Force Walker, Ravage thought, having believed it to only be a myth up until the proof of the ability was right in front of him. A feeling of elation came from Darth Rictus. Thanaton oozed desperation and no small amount of fear. Rightfully so, Ravage felt, thinking about the spectral forms that had appeared behind Kallig when she survived Thanaton’s last attack. Force Walking was rare, and for her to have learned it and bound multiple ghosts, Thanaton had been right to beg for aid. Only the entirety of the Dark Council could truly stop her with that kind of power at her fingertips. Unfortunately for Thanaton, he had chosen a Kaggath and rendered any outside aid expressly forbidden. Even if he should somehow kill Kallig, he would be slain for breaking the rules of the rite, and Darth Mortis would insist upon it as a matter of Sith law.

Thanaton began to summon another storm only for Kallig, eyes still glowing, to throw him across the chamber and into a wall. A boom resounded, shaking the Academy’s foundations. Ravage could feel the fear seeping up from the lower levels. She dropped him after a moment. Thanaton staggered to his feet, breathing heavily as panic took him.

Disappointment roiled from Marr as Thanaton in a desperate ploy, ignited his lightsaber and charged Kallig who stood with crossed arms at the center of the chamber. The blade was a breath away from removing her head when she stopped him, the chamber shaking as she held him still. Ravage leaned forward when Thanaton’s hand burst with a spray of blood and bone as she forced him down to a knee, his lightsaber falling to the floor as Thanaton was forced into supplication. 

Lord Kallig spoke to Thanaton in a tone so low that it could not be heard except for perhaps Marr’s audio sensors but her palpable fury could be felt. The last of her words were loud enough to be heard and she burned with vengeance. 

“You will not die until you say our names.” 

Vowrawn looked intrigued, sitting up and watching. Ravage himself was curious. Thanaton made the mistake of gathering the Force to himself and was met by a storm focused entirely on him as Kallig unleashed the full extent of her fury and her brutality. The power that radiated from Kallig was oppressive as she attacked Thanaton, drawing on dark healing when he neared death only to strike again in a thunderous blast, casting afflictions that made Thanaton’s skin bubble with pestilence and breaking his bones, only for the breaks to heal and break again. Thanaton was helpless to do anything with the hold Kallig had over him. 

Again and again and again she attacked, until at last, Thanaton broke screaming. “Elenei! Alysanne! ELENEI! ALYSANNE!” 

Those names were important to Kallig, Ravage realized at the triumphant and vicious feeling of satisfied vindication that swept over Kallig. He filed the information away for later. 

She relented and released her hold upon him, allowing him to drag himself away from her, coughing and whimpering. She slowly followed him as they all rose from their seats. The victor of the duel was clear. Kallig stopped as they approached, maintaining a respectful distance while her eyes never left Thanaton’s broken body. Thanaton grasped Marr’s boot with his left hand and tried to reach for Mortis in a final plea for aid with the gruesome remainder of his right. 

“I am sorry, Thanaton,” Mortis said before he snapped Thanaton’s neck, a mercy no doubt, for Ravage was sure Kallig would have let him suffer a slower death. 

“Good riddance.” Ravage spat, sneering at the corpse. 

Darth Marr rebuked him immediately, “He was a better Sith than you give him credit for, Ravage.”

“Let us hope that his successor is as worthy.” Mortis declared, approaching Kallig and ushering her to Thanaton’s former seat beside Darth Marr. “My lord, your seat.” 

Kallig was stunned, completely bewildered. “I-I. My lords, I do not know what to say.” Her shock was sincere. 

Vowrawn spoke, amusement laced into his tone. “You have killed a Dark Councilor in fair combat, what else were you expecting?”

“I openly defied Thanaton and challenged him, amassing power far too quickly for any sane Sith to be comfortable with. The Dark Council is well within its rights to execute me for it.” She was smart, Ravage would give her credit but it did not change the fact that she was merely a lord and a lord could not hold a seat on the Dark Council. Vowrawn was impressed by her honesty, his eyes gleaming. 

Rictus grinned, speaking for the first time since the session had convened. “Ordinarily, yes. We would. However, with the circumstances, you have proven yourself.” 

Kallig paused, thinking on her answer, and then she nodded. “Very well.”

“She is only a lord!” Ravage protested vehemently. He was not one for tradition, but this was one he would adhere to. “You cannot place a lord on the Dark Council!” 

Darth Marr rounded on him immediately, snarling viciously. “Quiet, Ravage! She has earned her place!” 

Ravage reluctantly stood beside Marr with the others as he beckoned Lord Kallig to approach. She took a knee and bowed her head. “By order of the Dark Council, and in light of your reputation in serving the Empire, you are now Darth Imperius. Rise.”

The newly christened Darth Imperius rose smoothly. “You are head of the pyramid of ancient knowledge. You are charged with keeping the mystical knowledge of the Sith and guarding the secrets of our order. With us, you are the ruler of all Sith, answerable only to the Emperor himself.” 

Imperius nodded solemnly. “I will do my best to live up to my new position.” 

Ravage scoffed, not trusting her words or sincerity. “Never trust the humble ones.” Darth Imperius looked at him with a raised brow but said nothing. 

“What shall be done with Darth Thanaton?” Vowrawn questioned. 

“As the winner of the Kaggath, it is Darth Imperius’s decision,” Mortis said. Ever the upholder of laws, Ravage snorted. 

“Destroying Thanaton’s properties and executing his forces will only serve to weaken the Empire. As such, I shall absorb them.” Imperius paused, thinking for a moment. “Thanaton shall be given the proper funerary rites as befits his position as my predecessor to this council, and his name and records shall remain intact.” 

A brief flickering of grief and then it was as a candle snuffed out in the wind. Ravage narrowed his eyes in suspicion. She was hiding something. While Ravage pondered what she could be hiding, the council concluded the session. 

Darth Mortis and Darth Vowrawn were walking with Imperius out of the chamber. Mortis was speaking to her. “We will summon you the next time the Dark Council congregates. I suggest going to Dromund Kaas and consolidating your power base.” 

Imperius nodded, and Vowrawn clapped his hands together in a delighted manner. “Ah, wonderful! While you are on Dromund Kaas, Imperius, I must invite you to tea! Oh, and do not be overly worried about logistics and accounting. It is quite common during a power transition-” 

Ravage rolled his eyes. Darth Vowrawn was gauging whether or not Imperius would be a potential rival, a potential ally, someone entertaining, or someone entirely boring. Vowrawn had done the same when Ravage had obtained his seat before the Treaty. Ravage elected to remain behind until Thanaton’s corpse was collected. His suspicions of Imperius circled through his mind and when the corpse was collected for burial, Ravage made a trip down to the Archives.

Every Sith that had survived the Academy had a genealogy test done, it was mandatory; whether their line was New or Old. The genealogy testing made it easier to arrange marriages and alliances; old blood marrying old blood, new to new, and new to old. At times, a Sith would marry a force-blind. Cousins marrying cousins was common. When a line diminished down to only one or two surviving members, there were examples of aunts and uncles marrying nieces and nephews to preserve it.

Ravage had been the product of one such union; his mother and father had been uncle and niece, the last of their bloodline. Of their five children, only Ravage had survived the last war. His brothers and sisters had all been idiots, either killing each other as the eldest two had done to be the heir or dying in battle as the rest had. Ravage was the last of his line and while he had sired three children, one had been force-blind, one did not survive the trials, and another who he had made his apprentice had been killed because the fool had been caught by another lord seeking revenge for his murdered apprentice. A pity, the boy, Essor, had shown promise, only for his arrogance to make him disregard the ‘No Unsanctioned Murders’ rule of the Academy, the only rule Ravage himself would follow, and to leave a terrified and weak-willed acolyte as a witness. 

He poured over the archives, searching for anything noteworthy of Kallig. He found several. Some were entries written by Tulak Hord himself, describing Aloysious Kallig as one of his greatest generals and the greatest amongst his rivals. Another was the genealogy of Aloysious Kallig, detailing his descendents. He had had four children; three daughters and a son. Two of the three daughters were killed and of the son, there was no further record. 

The third daughter, Alysanne, was where the line continued. All daughters, interestingly enough. It continued down until a century and a half ago when Lord Andrasa’s downfall resulted in her children being sold into slavery. All records after that listed were slave records, leading down to Elenei, recently deceased, and her daughter, Alysanne. The newly christened Darth Imperius was a descendant of the Old Blood. He was shocked to learn that she was only twenty-one. The last Sith to rise so high and obtain a seat on the Dark Council so young had been Darth Marr forty years prior. 

Her father drew Ravage’s interest. That had been censored and censored recently. Ravage used his authority to override the censor and was stunned by what was revealed. 

It was tradition for a Sith parent to take an interest in their force-sensitive child’s upbringing, no matter if the child was born from wedlock or was illegitimate. It was tradition for a child’s first lessons in the Force and the Sith Order to come from their Sith parent. Darth Ravage laughed. No wonder Darth Thanaton was so desperate to kill her; for a man who prided himself on traditions and upholding them, she was living proof of Thanaton’s hypocrisy. And no wonder, Darth Imperius had chosen to keep his name intact. Striking it from history would mean removing part of her lineage.

Alysanne Kallig, Darth Imperius, was Darth Thanaton’s natural daughter.

[island-ofthelost]

okay.. so this is going to be long because it's something that has been hurting people I know on here a lot lately.

I saw a reblog you did to a post someone did on here today about Five, and originally when I read this particular post this morning, it made me feel bad. I know it was just their opinion and they have every right to it, but the way they wrote it was just so, "Everyone else who doesn't see it this way is wrong."

Your reply in your re-blog was what I think we all need to hear.

I'm being a wuss-bag by saying this anon, but I don't want to get into it with people on here.

I would make this comment on the post, non-anon, but I have already had so many shitty bullying anon asks sent to me about my posts that I do for anon replies, and on many of my other posts where I am just trying to have fun and be creative. People have also come after me non-anon about me writing stories with Five in romantic situations or because they think my other posts suck. I am just trying to avoid more of that mean stuff and the back talk from these guys that they do in their other posts that they may or may not think don't get send around to all of us.

Message to them-we do see them. It's a relatively small community within the TUA fandom.

Mostly, I just want less hate and judgement going on, and your reply was a great way of explaining another way to look at this that includes everyone, and I really really appreciate that.

I just wanted you to know, that there are so many people out there that feel bad about this stuff, and that they and I agree with you. I support you and I think that you made very good sense without being mean to anyone.

I also just wanted to say how brave you are for speaking up to make the very good point that, yes, Five Hargreeves as a fictional character may be aroace, or maybe not so much, or maybe somewhere in-between on all that, just like so many real people are. But he also very much could have had real romantic feelings of intimacy with Dolores and he could have those same things with someone else if given the opportunity and time to get there.

Five may be into girls, or guys, or both, or no one. He may like blondes or pink haired people or banging aliens with two heads for all I know. He could be autistic. Fuck it, he could be anything because he's a fictional character we can all bend anyway we want and project our own beliefs and feelings on. That's the point of fanfiction. The show and comics lay out stuff pretty clear about Five on emotional stuff and all that relationship stuff, be it with Dolores or chicks he is hitting on, or his family, but still all of that is up to interpretation by the many viewers out there and it's all good. That's the big picture.

People need to stop putting down others on here. It's all good guys!

I see posts on here all the time by people saying cruel things about different ships they don't agree with, or about other users tastes, either intentionally or maybe not intentionally, and they do it because when the people they don't agree with dive into the fictional world of Five, they see him as someone capable of anything, and often times this includes a romantic relationship with someone real.

And yes, I see Five's interactions with Dolores romantically, and I might be wrong on that, but I do. Even well after Five was out of the apocalypse and he came to her, he missed so badly. He feels things for her whether she is real or not. It's real to him. It's heartbreaking but real. Five kisses her and says mega romantic things to her in Italian in season 3 when Jamie spits on him. That was in his head. His thoughts. His desires. His feelings coming out in that scene. She didn't make him do or see that. I thought it was sad and beautiful and only made me love the character more. I think Five has more heart than any of them-capable of so much love if he's only given the chance to give and receive it. Like you said, maybe somewhere down the line, Five could have that. I hope he does, but even if it's not romantic or physical love, that's perfectly fine to. I can bend my brain to see anything.

I have seen it called disgusting to think Five capable of physical forms of love and intimacy that are romantic or sexual in nature. I have seen posts bashing the writers and the people that read anything with him in these situations. There's many on here making posts for the soul purpose of calling other people on here disgusting for envisioning Five as someone with infinite love of all kinds. They say they are sickened by all the Five X reader insert pairings tags, and they are horrified by people out there who want to envision a part of themselves in these stories with Five. All sorts of tags have been called disgusting and really, if they feel that way and don't want to see it, then you can filter tags you don't like so you never see them. Why not do that instead of bashing people who have done nothing to you.

I often wonder how they would feel if they saw posts saying what they thought or wanted to read or buzz excitedly about was disgusting?

I think they'd feel judged and pissed and sad. And they wouldn't be wrong.

I think it is sad to tell anyone else that what they feel is wrong. I don't think that is exactly what the post I am referring to today was doing or trying to say. I think that person who wrote that is a very nice person and a great writer, and they love the show and the character, and they are just trying to answer the question as it was put to them, as in how they see Five. They just didn't see the potential for the hurt that could be taken with the way they wrote that reply. Again, it was an ask reply, and they were just giving their answer, but I see and feel the pain in the way these things come off, and I wish people posting would consider that before posting the way they do.

I never want anyone to feel embarrassed or be shamed by something as silly and normally fun as fanfiction and what they like to read or write in it.

If we could all see that nobody wants to be judged for how they feel and for who they are, I think the world would be a better place.

There is nothing wrong with romance, no romance, sex, no sex, hugs, no hugs, or whatever. By dividing each other by things like our desires or lack of them in certain things, we separate ourselves in ways that aren't good, and it makes the problems of understanding and accepting each other all the harder.

We are all people, and we are all okay no matter who we are. Thank you for making me feel that way. ❤️

Well fuck, this is a long ass ask, but thank you so much for trusting me with your feelings, anon. I don't know if I'm the best person for this, because I'm famously not a fan of Five in romance fics, and not because of his sexuality but the fact that his body is still a minor in most of the contexts they're written in, but if people age up his body I still find it strange because I do think he is on the aroace spec, but I would never find it disgusting or tell people what they can or can't do based on my headcanon no matter how popular. you wanna write Five fics that take place in or post season 4 or with him aged up? go the fuck ahead. not my cup of tea, but I would never harass anyone for it.

what I find troubling is that people want to discount the feelings he's clearly shown to have as a "trauma response" or "something he knows is wrong" in favor of their headcanon that isn't confirmed is frankly cringe as fuck. he's a complex guy that probably was genuinely romantically involved with the mannequin, no matter how weird. love is love until it's not allowed to be I guess.

Idk, again I find most Five fics weird as fuck but people are allowed to do whatever they want, it's not hurting a community that I happen to be a part of and I'm sure some of these people are not part of, and if you don't wanna read a fic (which again, I don't) just don't read it, nothing is being shoved down your throat.

Thanks for the ask.

[theneighborhoodwatch]

Sorry for mentally ill thoughts this evening but I've always wondered how this is going to end. To me, welcome home has been a story about changing. And because of a certain music artist's album and WHs popularity being around the same time, I can't let go of my interpretation of what change will look like at the end of this project. (1/?)

(2/?) I've always found what characters a fandom gets attached to QUICKLY to be a marker of what a story is going to do with these characters and what metatexually that is gonna mean for the story...

Let's start with the big one: Wally himself. THIS GUY HAS SO many interpretations! He is simultaneously the most dangerous and fascinating character out of all of them. To analyze him (and some of the neighbors I'll talk about) I used tarot cards, btw I'm @pretty-in-possible but this is my reblog alt

Wally was Judgement which is intresting because its definition includes

When The judgement is in the upright position, it represents the realization of one's calling, realistic thinking and gaining a deep understanding of life through self-examination.

(3/?) When reversed, it can represent refusal of self-examination and growth, self-doubt, regret, and blame. In my eyes, change and (what I think will happen to the puppets) transformation is only possible with that kind of thought. Which, coupled with your own analysis of wally and home spells as disaster. Whats particularly affecting MY brainworms is Barnaby. His card is the Magician: The Magician is an artisan and the ideas person.  It is a very action oriented card. It represents learning and using knowledge in creative and unorthodox ways, and seizing the day by displaying resourcefulness. Barnaby is definitely an open-minded person just with his behavior shown through just visuals.

(4/?) I am also invested in his pipe which I know just has bubbles in it, but it adds to this stoner read to his character that *I* see??? There is just something about him that tells me he will have the easiest time with this Existential crisis as to him (based of the tarot reading) this knowledge is incredibly freeing, cuz it would just mean there is More in the World to Discover. In my experience reading past life regression therapy testimonies, I've heard of how some people encounter this place in the afterlife people under hypnosis describe as a soul cleansing, a place where gem-colored rays of light shine through every inch of your soul, cleansing your spirit of the trauma it had experienced during your last lifetime. And I feel like Barnaby will experience those same feelings (NOT THE SAME PROCESS). (I might ramble more about this later, in ask box or in dms if thats okkkk)

my sincerest apologies for sitting so long on this one, i wanted to make sure i had time to really, like. sit down and Process it. and then shortly after i started writing this response i got food poisoning so. lol.

because of of how in-depth this ask gets, i wouldn't feel right neglecting any part of it, so i'm just gonna write down my thoughts bullet by bullet as i go through this. under the cut for convenience:

how welcome home is going to end .... obviously, i cannot offer anything conclusive right now (if i can offer anything at all) given how early we are, but i have always had the vague impression that whatever the ending of this story is, we as the audience may never be able to see all of it. it feels like so much has been given to us already. i assume we will be given much more, regardless of how willing to give or receive anyone involved is. we owe it to our neighbors to let them decide which parts to give and which to keep, at the end of the day. i think that's the best way i can phrase it. but as always, only time will tell.

agree about Change likely being a big part of welcome home, whichever form it takes.

I WOULD VERY MUCH LIKE TO KNOW THE NAME OF THIS ARTIST. i am Dreadfully unfamiliar with a lot of 70s musicians outside of the biggest names - my first thought was either connie converse or daniel johnston, but iirc most of converse's music was recorded in the 50s-60s and johnston only started recording music in the late 70s. i don't know if bruce haack was ever super popular back when he was actually making music.

the idea of which characters fandom gets attached to being indicative of what canon does with them...? i'm not so sure about this one, honestly. fandom can get attached to a stale piece of toast that shows up for a single scene if so desired (which, for the record, isn't a bad thing.) of course, i say that based off of my own experiences, but fan reception has never really been a Factor in speculation for me either way.

calling wally dangerous doesn't feel inaccurate, but i think it's more like. i do not think he is inherently dangerous but he absolutely has the Capacity to do dangerous things. i think it is interesting that despite this (or perhaps because of it?) he appears to be more vulnerable with us than he Ever was with the other neighbors? but a.) that may not be saying much and b.) it is Also largely rooted in speculation + the fact that home and the audience are currently the Only two entities wally has been seen interacting with directly, as opposed to his interactions/relationships with other neighbors that have so far only been briefly described by the WHRP or showcased in brief snippets of concept art.

grinning so so so wide at the judgement/inverted judgement descriptions. i wish i had more to say but i'm having a hard time coming up with something that isn't just pointing to the inverted judgement description and going "yeah that's almost Exactly what i'm getting from wally so far."

again, agree about the possibility of Change playing some kind of role here, eventually - more specifically the fear of change even when it may prove to be beneficial, whether that be on wally's part or the neighbors' or the WHRP's or the staff's or the audience's or even the very setting of home itself. i imagine some grotesque hodgepodge of all of the above. something something points to that post i reblogged about sitcoms as horror.

context for the aforementioned wally and home analysis for anyone reading: 1, 2, 3

BARNABY, HUH... for the record my personal hc regarding his pipe is that whatever's in it changes depending on what would be the funniest answer at any given moment. if tobacco is funnier, then it's tobacco. if bubbles are funnier, then it's bubbles. looney tunes logic.

on a more serious note: i'm a little worried i won't have much to say about barnaby that i haven't said already! i think it may be too early to discern the Specifics of his personality from website art/descriptions alone but i do get the distinct impression that he's meant to be a lot more down to earth than wally, which of course is an interesting contrast to the nature of wally's whole [gestures vaguely] Everything. from this, i think it is Reasonable to assume that he's also a lot better at rolling with the punches as well, although i never did consider the possibility that learning about The Bullshit would be liberating for him, in a sense - i don't know about it being a cleansing experience, unless you count the recontextualization of things that didn't previously make sense as a sort of cleansing in itself, in which case it could absolutely be that. something about the parallels to cosmic horror... the relationship between the Fear of change and the Catharsis of change...

oh, but wouldn't this also put him at odds with wally, who seems to be on the Exact Opposite End Of The Spectrum, even when they understand each other like no other? Much To Think About... very exciting potential for Conflict there.

i'm cool with whichever method works best for you if you wanna talk more in the future! my dms are open too lol.

[theballadear]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Le Monde

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs

Category: Gen

Summary:

The probability of Ranpo being incorrect about anything is zero, his judgement and deductive skills make him the agency's strongest man and most valuable asset. However should Ranpo ever be wrong about something it should be taken as a sign of the times and that the sun is going to explode, taking the earth with it. So when several strange letters appear at the door of the ADA saying that Ranpo is wrong, the detective takes this as a challenge and an insult to everything that makes him the way he is.

or

In which Poe is framed.

Read on AO3:

Ranpo was clever, this was a fact, so when several neatly sealed letters lay waiting to be trampled upon at the door he knew something was abnormal to say the least. He knelt down and picked up one of the could-be doormats and inspected it. The periwinkle colored wax stamp had a bulblike flower imprint, in between the bulb it had seemed someone tediously painted yellow strokes to give the waxy art depth, it looked too artificial far too perfect. Ranpo haphazardly turned over the envelope and wrote smooth as marble was lettering of the name ‘Fukuzawa’ at the center of the envelope. Ranpo hummed to himself raising an eyebrow in amusement, this was interesting. The next letters followed the ebb and flow of the initial copy with minor differences laying in the name and flowery symbol, one for both he and Yosano. Ranpo makes his way over to one of the office desks and sits on top of it, laying the letters for the others to the side, before opening a drawer and grabbing a knife. Carefully, Ranpo keeps the stamp intact whilst opening the letter, it read as follows;

Edogawa Ranpo,

You do not know me, nor I you, however I am looking for someone that you have been seen to be in contact with, Edgar Allan Poe. I also sent letters to your family members in case this letter was lost somehow, disregard them if you are reading this. If you have no connection to this name please feel free to pay no mind to the rest of the contents of this letter, in the event that you do have these connections please continue reading.

My name is Frances Allan, I am Edgar’s adoptive mother. Approximately six years ago Poe had cut all contact with me and his father and seemingly disappeared. We know that he is alright as we see his novels on shelves however we do miss our son oh so dearly. Prior attempts of reaching contact with our son has resulted in him once again running off to god knows where and it troubles us so, for this reason I urge you to not contact Edgar about our contact with you. Instead I extend an offer of lunch, paid by me and Mr. Allan of course, to you and your family. We simply wish to discuss things that you know about Edgar and perhaps if you know where his last known location may be. The back of this letter is the location of a cafe, where my husband and I will be every day from noon to dinner for a week following the knowledge that you have received this letter.

Thank you for your time,

Frances Allan

The sound of Ranpo’s laughter shattered the quiet of the room. Kunikida’s voice wasn't echoing orders through the halls nor was there a Dazai laying on a couch complaining about said orders. That chaos usually followed by Atsushi telling everyone to please, the boy always minded his manners, stop arguing. No, the others were all on a mission that Ranpo had solved for all of them of course, but that made for a boring day. Or so Ranpo had thought it boring till the strange letters appeared, seeing as no one else was here and it was about his best friend, Ranpo took it upon himself to take care of it.

The Genius Detective leapt off the desk that he was perched upon, proceeding to gather the letters and nab a bag of chips before sauntering his way to the president's office. Ranpo would need permission from Fukuzawa before investigating the case, which should be no issue as Ranpo highly doubts that “Poe's parents” would be ability users and even if by chance they were Ranpo has faced off against ability users many times before and walked out unscathed. Besides they’re offering free food, who doesn’t love free food?

“Fukuzawa-” Ranpo lamented down the hall. “Fukuzawa, I got spam mail about my friend-”

Fukuzawa looked up from the papers on his desk, “What’s bothering you?”

Ranpo, instead of sitting on the chair, sat himself on Fukuzawa’s desk and held out the letters, “It’s like those email scams, you know the ones where they lie about being someone famous and ask for money? Except this one is about Poe. You remember Poe right? He had the raccoon? He brings me books all the time?”

“Yes, I remember Poe. He aided you in breaking me out of prison and saving the agency. He’s with the Guild, correct?”

Ranpo nodded as he opened his bag of chips and began to crunch on them, “Yeah, the letter says it’s from his mom or something but I don’t know it seems sketchy-”

Fukuzawa carefully cuts the seal of his letter and begins to skim the contents, his narrowed eyes flashing a moment and lips pursed.

“I kinda wanna go for the free food, you know? I mean they could also be after Poe and if they are trying to get Poe for some reason then like two birds one stone-” Ranpo continued to ramble as Fukuzawa continued to read his letter, taking a much longer time to digest its contents then Ranpo had.

“I don’t believe this is a scam. I think this is actually Poe’s parents. Has Poe ever mentioned his parents before to you? Both of you are close.” Fukuzawa neatly folded the letter and placed it back into the envelope, seemingly making his mind up about something.

Ranpo narrowed his eyes.

“Of course we’re close but I don’t pry. He doesn’t pry at my past either, I appreciate that.” Ranpo closes the bag of chips and places them beside where he was sitting on the desk.

Fukuzawa hums, passing a glance to the envelope in his hands before looking back at Ranpo, “This letter about Poe is very concerning”.

“I know! Like that's the most suspicious letter I think I’ve ever read in my entire life, I mean the whole part about not contacting Poe, him not seeing them in years-”

“Ranpo that's not what I meant.”

Ranpo’s eyes meet Fukuzawa’s. Ranpo said a lot with his eyes, this was something Fukuzawa had learned while raising the boy from teenage years to the age he is now. The gaze that Fukuzawa was being given was one he was not usually on the receiving end of. The guarded look only lasted a moment, any random person would have missed it but Fukuzawa was not a random person to Ranpo and from that look Fukuzawa learned, neither was Poe.

“What do you mean that's not what you meant-” Ranpo hops off Fukuzawa’s desk, his expression a facade as his voice and mannerisms made the phrase seem nonchalant.

“What I mean is-” Fukuzawa sighs looking at the letter once again. “Ranpo, how much can you say that you know about Poe?”

Ranpo tilted his head with a look of puzzlement crossing his face for a moment before speaking with a smile, “I think I know a good amount about my own best friend.”

Fukuzawa makes a noise of acknowledgement before gathering all the letters into a drawer and locking it. “I see-”

“What are you doing? We didn’t even see what Yosano’s said, actually while we’re on the topic, what did your letter say?” Ranpo was propping up his chin with his elbow on the desk.

“It didn’t make sense from what I’ve seen of Poe, their claims about him just….did not add up-”

“Yeah, I said the letter was weird. We’ve clarified this-” Ranpo said matter of factly.

Fukuzawa took a breath, pursing his lips and closing his eyes to think about how exactly to break this to Ranpo, “The letter said that Poe killed someone-”

A look of pure confusion crossed Ranpo’s face, “He’s in The Guild? I don’t see how this is a surprise-”

“Ranpo, the letter says that he killed his step sister and has been running from the charges since.���

Ranpo froze.

“Elaborate.” Ranpo stated.

“The letter from Poe’s parents said that their daughter, Virginia, had been…murdered by Poe when the girl was only thirteen-” Fukuzawa said with caution.

“That makes no sense!” Ranpo scoffed.

“Ranpo, you might have a biased opinion on this matter and-”

“Biased opinion?” Ranpo interrupts. “No? If Poe did something stupid I would be the first one to point it out. Not to mention, why are you second guessing my deductive skills? If I say something is fishy, it’s fishy.”

Fukuzawa glanced at a safe resting in the corner of his office, holding something that he should have broken. Ranpo followed his gaze and scoffed. The One Order lies dormant in that case, only used once and only usable by one man. The cost of the weapon was higher than either of them like to discuss. Fukuchi was family, Ranpo never felt more betrayed then on that day, when Fukuchi nearly killed he and Atsushi, when poor Akutagawa lost his humanity, when Ranpo was-

“You’ve been wrong before.” Fukuzawa’s voice echoed in Ranpo’s ears after the words left the lips of the older.

Ranpo stared at Fukuzawa, the air of the room became as thick as tar.

If there was one thing that Ranpo hated most in life, it was being wrong; for Ranpo being correct was all he had for so long. When the monsters of the world turned their back on him, he could always rely on the fact that he was always right about them without fail, until he wasn’t. Ranpo met Fukuzawa. He had thought that he was just like everyone else and yet the old man had proved Ranpo wrong. Fukuzawa had given Ranpo what he truly wanted, a family. The family started small but with baby steps, blossomed into something beautiful. Yet with one word Fukuzawa had pulled at a petal. Wrong.

Ranpo was never wrong, even when he had been wrong he had been right in the end. Fukuchi was an ally in the end. Fukuzawa’s issue was not about Ranpo being incorrect, no, it was-

“You don’t trust me.”

The words tumbled out almost against Ranpo’s own will.

“That’s not what I’m-”

“Not that’s exactly what you're saying! You know-” Ranpo laughs. “I wouldn’t have sought the help of Fukuchi if you hadn't had such a blind trust in the man.”

“Ranpo.” Fukuzawa shot a warning glare.

“No, if you want to bring that up we can totally bring that up!” Ranpo smiled and began to pace the room. “Hm, lets see, who was the one that suggested that we didn’t even pick up the case that got us framed in the first place? Oh! That’s right! Me!”

Ranpo picked up an old photo, taken almost a lifetime ago. The moment, frozen in time and sealed in a stainless steel frame, showed a child and two swordsmen at a party, a banner in the background read Armed Detective Agency.

Ranpo roughly placed the photo back on the shelf, “Who's the one who solves all the cases in the agency that everyone is too dumb to? Me.”

“Ranpo. You’re acting childish.” Fukuzawa stood from his chair.

“Hm, now let’s all think about who saved everyones asses after, what I said was going to happen mind you, happened. Oh my god! It was me and the person you're accusing of being a child murderer!”

“I’m not calling Poe a child murderer-” Fukuzawa rubbed his face.

Ranpo paused his pacing to look at Fukuzawa with a face of bafflement.

“You literally just got done telling me that I have a ‘biased opinion’ about Poe and were questioning me on his character.”

“And you are defending Poe as if your life depends on it, leading me to believe that you might have blinded judgment-” Fukuzawa closes his eyes and see’s vibrant purple eyes staring back at him. “I can openly admit that I am able to be blinded by close friends as well-”

“You're still bothered about everything with Fukuchi.” Ranpo paused and once again looked at Fukuzawa, reading him like a book, like all those years ago and he began to speak, “Reading the letter you were worried that I was going to have to go through what you went through which is why you started acting so aggressively and insinuated that I was wrong about Poe. You're scared that I’ll have to make a choice like you did. You had to choose between the fate of the world and Fukuchi and you chose-”

“Ranpo.” Fukuzawa scolded.

Ranpo stepped closer, “You probably thought if you could insight distrust of Poe in me that it would save me from feeling betrayal if it were to happen.”

Ranpo wrapped his arms around Fukuzawa, a mirror image of a scene from before. A lifetime ago the two of them stood in front of the moon, a child crying into the arms of the first adult to care about his well being in so long. However at this moment the sun was out and the detective could feel a wetness begin to pool on his shoulder but he gave it no mind. A muffled yet strong voice echoed an apology and as a response Ranpo held his father tighter. There were much bigger problems at play here of which Ranpo was well aware, like how lunch was quickly approaching and that he never finished his bag of chips and—well that was entirely off topic much like this situation, it was also unproductive but since when had Ranpo ever been productive.

“You alright old man?” Ranpo joked.

“Yes-” Fukuzawa pushed away from the hug and cleared his throat. “I once again apologize, that was uncalled for-”

“You're good.” Ranpo shrugged. “However we do need to talk more on the Poe Parents situation as the end of my letter said that they would meet for lunch with us about a week from today, also can you take the letters out of the drawer, it’s evidence.”

Fukuzawa just shook his head with a smile as he unlocked the drawer displaying the letters for the two of them to examine once more. Ranpo immediately grabbed at Yosano’s envelope to open it for its contents, taking note of the stamp of what looked like red miniature roses. Unfortunately Yosano’s letter was worded much like Fukuzawa’s, playing up the “woe is me” and dead daughter deal to a thousand whilst making Poe sound like a heartless monster that kicks puppies and curb stomps every nearest toddler. Ranpo knows that Poe is a little bit out there but he was not Fyodor or, dare he think should he be struck down, Dazai level out there. The only new information added to the pile was the pleading to Yosano's care about Ranpo hanging around someone so “dangerous" which Ranpo gave a chuckle at. Yosano is also a bit out there and has done much worse than kill one person. Hell, Fukuzawa is so good at killing people that he needed to stop. Ranpo really loves his family, he thinks they’re the silliest people on earth.

Yet after reading all three of the letters one question wracked Ranpos mind—”Why would they tell all of you about Virginia’s death but not me? Was it to stir conflict? Did they think we would each read them separately? Why leave me out of the loop?”

“Ugh!” Ranpo plopped down on the floor, starfished across the carpet. “I need more information but I don’t wanna research Poe’s parents, gathering intel is so much effort especially when they’re overseas-”

Fukuzawa peaks at Ranpo from over his desk, “Why don’t you ask Poe?”

Ranpo paused for a moment staring at the ground before taking out his phone and sending a text to Poe:

(Ranpo) u free today ??

(Poe) Should be, why?

(Ranpo) lunch ??

(Poe) Ofc!!! What time and where are we going? :D

(Ranpo) idk gimme like a hour and cafe under ada

(Poe) Okay!!! Lemme get Karl ready

“Done!” Ranpo exclaimed, closing his phone and putting it back in his pocket.

Fukuzawa blinked, “That was…incredibly fast?”

“Poe responds to everyone fast, he doesn’t have many contacts.” Ranpo shrugs.

“So what did you learn about his parents?” Fukuzawa questions.

One cannot use words to describe the pure look of bafflement that Ranpo gave Fukuzawa at that very moment.

“Heh? I didn’t ask him about his parents over text! That’s insensitive! They clearly don’t like him! That’s like if he were to text me ‘Hey how was being homeless?’ out of the blue! I asked if he wanted to grab lunch!”

Fukuzawa folds his hands together, red tint on his cheeks, and his voice still steady as always, “Of course, yes-”

Fukuzawa cleared his throat, “Report back to me as soon as you are done gathering intel.”

Ranpo gives a small salute wave before turning to walk out the door. A six year old murder, yes, Ranpo would not be bored for some time now. Ranpo immediately turned on his laptop and threw the thirteen-year old’s name into the search bar, for right now he would need to use the publicly documented records until he can figure out how to convince the American police to allow him to have the files to a cold case. Ranpo opened his email and began drafting while the public files printed in the background.

The World's Greatest Detective was on the case.

[teamdilf]

Tullia picks a fight with Sparatus in the next chapter of The In-Laws and the Grandparents!

“Tell me how you really feel. How angry you are that Adrien’s whore beat you. That’s all I am, right? His fucking whore!”

He turns around, his subvocals a rebuke and he glares at her. “I have never used such language to describe you, and you will not put words in my mouth, Lady Victus. Your anger blinds you, leading you to assume disrespect where none exists. You make the same mistakes in politics as your bondmate does.”

“Yet I’ve won this fight,” she says coolly, too angry to express her triumph.

“By burning a bridge to ash. You’ve threatened my career and reputation. Why would I ever feel inclined to help either of you, should you require it? This is what Victus has done his entire tenure as primarch: those who think as he does are his close allies. Those who dare ask him to behave like a politician and not a general are written off as fools. His reputation amongst the rank and file is the only reason he was tolerated as long as he was. He is a skilled soldier - I recognize that. But, politically speaking, he is the worst primarch Palaven has ever had. He is fortunate that the needs of the post-war period weigh heavily on the skills of a soldier and that he found diplomacy so trying that he foisted meetings with those he found distasteful off on me. I took those meetings because it is my duty to support our leader, even when he’s a terrible politician and it has allowed me to mitigate the damage he’s caused.”

“I don’t need your fucking help. Promise me what I’ve demanded in writing, and Adrien will give up power as soon as he’s cleared to come to the office.”

“A second opinion. Primarch Victus will be examined by a physician selected by my office, without you in the room to intimidate them.”

“They will be disarmed and a bodyguard of my choosing will be present in the room,” she counters.

“Fine,” Sparatus says coolly. “You and Victus will receive the approval you desire, presuming a judgement of guilt in a court of law, by the end of the week.”

“Good.”

[manifesting-mari]

Morning Pages 1/24/2023

This morning for my meditation i listened to Mantra Loops Vol. 1 and tried to lock into the energy of the different songs. I could feel the healing energy of the music and the higher vibes of the messages, but i also felt the heavier feelings. The holding on to cycles and the pain. Holding on to victimhood. I remember at one of David’s talks he said that the trauma releases you in its own time. And i always wondered why people say “release your pain” when the pain releases on its own. Its a relationship. Its both. If youre still holding onto the pain. Even if its done with its cycle youll still be perpetuating it. And if you choose to let go, when its ready to release it will. 

I also noticed the ways I still associate my value and worth with how much money I have or the kind of job I have. I can see and feel the value judgements still cycling. I can hear my parents voices and Greg’s voice in my head. Even my own voice. Where did i get this idea of “better” and “worse”? Why do I still have these judgements playing out inside of me? 

Since the age of 25 i’ve been on a mission to learn how to love myself and its lead me to where i’m at right now. Im my house, on my couch, in the beginning of a work day. I can feel the value judgements around that. Im trying to go back to that time when i decided that i should really start loving myself. I remember kevin had just told me that he had feelings for another person, and i told him to choose her because i was broken. And the next day i was at the gym and i remember thurga texting me that what i needed to do was start loving myself. I had no idea even how to start doing that. What did loving myself look like? Feel like?

At that moment i decided to start treating myself the way I treat my friends. To start talking to myself better. To start being more forgiving. To start rooting for myself and standing up for myself the way i did for my friends. I’d say that was step one. Acting as if. Thats part of the manifestation techniques. Acting as if you already are. But acting and believing are two different things. As some who could disassociate and still function, i could act out all these things, act confident, act like i dont care, act lovingly, but not truly believe those things. Because i wanted to make the authority figures in my life happy, i got really got at observing what a “good person” did and how their actions were received. I got really good at “acting as if” when i was a kid. Acting as if i wasnt sad. Acting as if i wasnt angry. Acting as if i wasn’t a horny kid. I got really good at being a “good girl” that I actually wa sone. I do enjoy making people feel loved and comfortable as themselves and making them feel happy and cared for. But i had a really hard time turning that light onto myself in a sincere and authentic way.

The uber confidence and aggression I had in my late teens and early 20’s came from this want and need to be bigger but then the frustration of still not being fully received. I understand now that the frustration ive felt and still feel now is because i am unable to hold space for myself to be fully received in an authentic way. I hate being fake with people, but i have to admit that when i was younger i would lie. I would obviously lie to authority figures so i wouldnt get in trouble and i would  hyperbolize or punch up stories to make myself more interesting. In my childhood and my teen years I wanted to be “good” and “better than”. In College i wanted to shock and awe. I wanted to be the fullest expression of whoever i thought i was and say “i dont care what people think of me”. When really i did. I cared a lot if people liked me but i would deny it and become cold. I see the ways where I was so mean to people when that was just projected frustration. I was frustrated because i felt as if i wasn’t being seen by others, when I wasn;t fully seeing myself. 

My late 20’s i used other people in order to be loved. I remember when Kevin said he actually wanted to date me, I was disconnected from my body. I dont know what I was actually feeling, but i did feel activated in some way. Here someone saying the want to be with me when i didn’t even wanna be with me. Heres someone who wanted to try loving me and i wanted to try being loved. I didn’t do it well. I really did love that man. I cared for him and wanted him to be happy. Thats why i ended things. He would have stayed in a relationship where he wasn;t valued. Im sad to say that i didnt value him the way he deserved. Because i didnt even value myself. He saw this whole world and a future in me, and i didnt see it in him. I saw my life playing out and he was just playing a role. I really didnt feel like home with him. I see the ways where he really cared for me. And i understand why. I gave him the basic love and care he deserved when no one else was. And when i was no longer in his life he realized that i was the only one he could get it from. The thing is, i was releasing my dependency on others and thats how that relationship ended. I didnt need him, but he needed me. 

My relationship with Kevin taught me that i am a person deserving of love, even if i get it wrong sometimes. That I am someone who is loving and caring and worthy of having a partner. My heart still breaks for the ways i hurt kevin and the pain i inflicted on him. I was not in a good spot and I am sad that it ended teh way it did. But i was happy at one point. I had everything i wanted. But i wasn’t fully happy. There was still this emptiness that I was trying to fill. I could not see myself being monogamous with Kevin and i can now feel and see the ways that he only opened up the relationship because he needed me to be in his life. He probably felt as if he needed to mold himself into my life and my lifestyle and he was happy to do it. I was not happy with him doing it. I was not happy. Im still sad it ended, but i know that it was the right and bets decision. 

Looking back on my relationship with greg, im happy that he ended it. Im happy he saw what i couldnt. He truly loved me more than i loved myself. And i loved him more than i loved myself. I knew that. I knew I was lacking self love and needed to really focus on loving myself. But unfortunately my shit was triggering his shit and we were unable to walk those paths together. We were unable to hold space and integrate each others experiences. Or maybe we did and it ended up that it was too uncomfortable, too much work, i dont know. Looking back now, almost one year since he ended things, i can see how the ending fo that relationship sparked a really deep dive into my relationship with myself. Its just so much easier to love myself in community than by myself.  Maybe happy it ended isnt the word. Or Maybe it is. I think glad and grateful are better words. Because im still sad about it. 11 months later im still sad hes not in my life. My heart still breaks over it. Even with people in my life who are more aligned and who are more present for my experience, I’m still sad he’s no longer in my life. Thats a loss that im still struggling with on top of the loss of my father. 

I dont like loss. I dont like losing things. And i guess thats something I have to get used to in this ever changing world. Maybe i dont have to like it. Maybe i can just accept this is a part of life and accept that these are the feelings that come with it. 

Now i can say that I truly love myself so much more than ever. Its not more acting as if. I can truly feel the move within myself and i thank the spirit of Aya for that gift of knowing. Like, i look at myself the way someone would look at their little sister. I look at my mistakes and fumbles the way someone would look at a toddler trying to walk. I look at my future self the way youd be inspired by an older cousin or role model. Future me inspires me. And even current me inspires me. I look at myself now and when the self deprecating stuff comes up, i give it love. I love the immaturity and allow it to be what it wants to be, knowing that i judgements and criticisms hold as much weight as i allow them to on any given day. I see myself trying really hard to be compassionate with every part of me. The ways i try to stick to my practice, i am trying, sometimes i feel like im trying really hard. But other times i can see the ease come in. i can allow myself to relax and welcome any feelings, joy, excitement, worry, fear, anger, horniness. Theyre all welcomed because they are all a part of me. I no longer have to act like a version of myself. I just get to be me and just being me is someone who is worth loving and someone who is loved. I am loved and valued and worthy by being exactly who i am.

[boozye]

Obviously only if you want to, but could I maybe get a bit more Lucifer character study stuff? I like seeing your writings about the characters, and I don't really know that much about Lucifer's character/get confused on what is him and what's fandom interpretation. *Lifts empty bowl with a beseeching look* More, please?

Thank you anon, I am honestly flattered! That other anon was basically playing russian roulette and just happened to trigger a rant I had locked and loaded. I honestly wish I could have as many thoughts about the other characters as I do Lucifer. Lucky for me, you asked for more about him!

Here's what I have:

-----

I would like to expand a little more on what I said about him not being afraid of shame.

I really think I hit the nail on that.

I don't think he's able to feel shame almost at all. He's shameless.

Usually someone shameless would be seen as loud, outspoken, rude even. But that's because that's how they want to be and have no shame to stop them.

Lucifer acts the way he wants to without shame as well. It just so happens that the way he wants to act usually comes across as stoic, elegant, serious, functional, etc. It's not a facade. And I believe this because when he wants to act out of order with the way he is perceived (stoic, elegant, serious, etc) he just goes ahead and does it, without a second thought. And he is just as confident as ever while doing it.

When we are trapped in Levi's game Dogi Maji, everyone is forced into a highschool setting as students. What does he do? He skips class to take a nap. Whenever he wants to do or say something cheesy with MC? He does it without missing a beat. That's not to say he doesn't think his actions through. He obviously does. And like I said before, he trusts his own judgement because he's confident. So of course he will follow through with it and has no trouble aligning some of his interests with his own judgement.

This part is related to his commanding attitude. (Now spare me, I might just be projecting here but,) I really believe he is not very into giving orders much. So why does he? Well, have you ever had to do something with a group of people, but nothing gets fucking done until someone takes the lead? Do the brothers at HoL strike you as being able to get anything done? Well there you have it. He takes the reigns, cause he feels he has to.

Honestly he's not even authoritarian as anyone makes him out to be. All in all the brothers get to do whatever the fuck they want in the end. And just get a scolding when it disrupts the peace or well being of the rest (ie mammon's gambling, which everyone's had to pay for more than once, or beels fridge raids, that leave everyone without food to eat)

Back to being shameless. That of course also comes with the downsides. Which means bad choices being made without a doubt. He was confident of his own judgement when he chose not to tell anyone what happened to Lilith, or when he locked Belphie up. He didn't hesitate when he almost attacks Beel (and Luke), and all the times he's threatened MC.

This, I believe, is why he says MC has changed him. All the actions I mentioned last are all I can recall of him regreting something. And they are all related to MC.

That's all I can conjure up for now.

But I received a couple more anons who dropped their interesting thoughts. They may not fully line up with my own, but they are just as good and valid I believe, if not more. So here they are:

(Thank you 💕)

[cbsorgeartworks]

Officially denouncing my work on Goodbye Strangers

I want to bring up why I left the Goodbye Strangers project because I want to issue a general warning that if you work with Felix Kramer you will most likely have a bad time. I only wish to mention my experience to give others a heads up, like an exit review. This is from someone who has known Felix since 2004, was a fan of the project since its inception in 2008, helped fund it via Patreon up to 2017, and worked directly with Felix on the project for 2 years (2019-2021). There are tons of specifics and aspects to this I do not go over here, but it was all a huge shitty mess.

The only concrete thing he is being accused of specifically is being a lying asshole (who will go to MASSIVE lengths to manipulate people) and a gross creep.

You do not need to take my word for it - I am confident that he will prove these claims with his own behavior and public content again and again.

I was deeply hurt and disturbed by his behavior. I considered him my best friend, but it is now clear that he bonded with me only to get me to do the parts of the project he didn’t want to do. He took advantage of my vulnerabilities (previous narcissistic trauma clouding judgement, etc). I expect him to continue this pattern with others.

I quit the project in April 2021 after finding out he had lied substantially about fundamental parts of our relationship, about how he was treating others, and about his intentions with the project.

He shut down the site after I left and never unpaused the Patreon. And only after I quit did I learn even more concerning information regarding him. I could now see all the red flags I had missed. I am deeply regretful and disgusted that I ever had anything to do with him, and that I ignored or rationalized all the troubling warning signs.

I also want to mention that his partner and supporters severely harassed others and I who had worked on the project after we cut ties with him. Especially targeted was one of the youngest members (19 years old at the time) of the team. I received threatening emails and lots of “legal-ese” scaremongering.

I fully denounce and disapprove of any support for the Goodbye Strangers project. Please note that I also denounce any harassment or doxxing of Felix, and have from the beginning encouraged all former volunteers and fans simply to cut contact and just ignore him.

I would like to sincerely apologize for supporting something with content that I now understand to be abhorrent, cruel, fascist, and bigoted. I regret giving him and the project so much support and propagating the project’s growth when I see now that it has such harmful ideas (the strangers act as a fascist purification fantasy tormenting and disposing of marginalized people, and also exist as a way to depict “vegan animal abuse”) and was used in an abusive way (intentionally making people uncomfortable and exposing them to sexualized content without their awareness or consent). I am hoping that this message will help undo some of the damage.

I don’t know what Felix did with his share of the income, but all mine from the project went to helping my husband and I pay the bills while we dealt with the covid layoffs of 2020-2021. Because of that, regardless of everything else, I am endlessly thankful for people’s support during that time.

Even though Felix turned out to be awful, I am also thankful to have met many wonderful people through the project, who have become fantastic friends.

I recommend NOT supporting or sharing Goodbye Strangers or any of Felix Kramer’s work. It features disturbing, hateful, fascist, objectifying content.

my feelings are: I do not care what he does going forward, i have moved on to new things and am busy forgetting this ever happened. uhg wtf

[redpandaramblings]

A Matter of Admiration Alpha Gang Orca x Omega f!Reader

Hello Hello! Here is my very VERY late submission for the SFW portion of Spudcorner's Valentine Blood and Chocolate Collab. This was meant to be a two page drabble. 13 pages later it's a bit more than that. Regardless, I do hope you enjoy!

Sequel/Epilogue Here

Content Warnings- Omegaverse, SFW, Insecurities, Misunderstandings, Pining, Fluff, Lots of food mentioned, Kugo being very down on himself, very minor mention of blood and stitches needed.

“Really? Again?”

The large alpha seemed to shrink under your judgemental glare.

“I am sorry, Y/N. The fight got intense and it slipped off. Someone must have stepped on it.”

You sighed heavily, your gaze turning to the workbench where the shattered remains of your creation sat. This was your seventh attempt at outfitting Gang Orca with a communicator headset. It was dangerous for him to keep fishing for a handheld during the heat of battle. Unfortunately, his lack of outer ear made keeping a headset on him difficult. Shaking your head, you gave a small smile.

“Not your fault, Sakamata. We knew this was going to be tricky. Though at this rate I’m tempted to just glue a headset on you and call it a day.”

Kugo snorted, his posture relaxing. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I hate to see your hard work go to waste.”

“It’s not a waste if I learn something from it. This one lasted a couple weeks of normal patrol work, so that’s an improvement. We just need to figure out what was different about this fight. So, sit. Talk.”

Kugo shook his head with an amused huff. He admitted he had been slightly dubious when you had first come to his agency. He’d encountered many hero support workers claiming to specialize in mutation quirks that seemed to be looking for lab rats for their creations. However, you always listened to what he said, and made suggestions that would actually make his job easier. You made sure your support items not only were functional, but comfortable at well. If the few years you had worked for him, he was pleased to say you had become good friends.

“I can’t right now, Y/N. I need to get cleaned up, then complete my report before I forget the details. I’ll come back first thing tomorrow.” You frowned, tapping your foot. Kugo fought to keep a neutral expression. You’d never forgive him if you knew how much he enjoyed your expressions when you were annoyed.

“Alright. Fine. First thing tomorrow. But make sure you get some rest tonight, you’ve been working too hard lately!”

Sakamata waved a hand in answer as he walked out the workshop door. He’d try to follow your request, but a hero’s work is never done.

~~~~~

Gang Orca shuffled through the door to his agency with an aura of gloom about him. In the past five days, he had broken five more communicators, gotten into several serious fights, and had allowed a villain to escape. And that was just his work life. Some of his friends had set him up for a speed dating session. He didn’t blame them for trying, but it ended exactly how he knew it would. Most of the omegas who had been present were scared of him, and those that weren’t were clearly only interested in his pro hero paycheck. Kugo trudged toward his office, his thoughts gloomy. A man with a quirk like his would never have a normal courtship. It hurt sometimes. How nice it would be to come home to a sweet smelling omega. What wouldn’t he give to home filled with pups, and laughter and love? He sighed softly as he swung his door open. Such a life was not meant for him, so no point in even dreaming. On autopilot, he hung his coat on the coat rack, and turned to set his briefcase on his desk. However, the desk was already occupied. Kugo tilted his head as he stared at the object resting on his desk. It appeared to be a large bento box, wrapped in a rather feminine handkerchief, patterned with some sort of flowers. Kugo set his briefcase down on a chair before coming closer to investigate. Gingerly, he untied the knot, setting the cloth aside as he looked at the contents curiously.

First and most obviously, was the strawberry shaped sticky note attached to the top. “You looked like you had been having a rough week. I hope this can make it better!” The writing was… painstakingly cute. The “i”s were dotted with little hearts. Each letter having just a little bit of flourish, while still being legible.

Kugo hummed quietly to himself. Clearly this had been left on his desk by mistake. A bit awkward, considering his name was on the door, but there was no other explanation. He drummed his fingers on the desk as he considered his options. He could take a guess at who the bento was for. There were several popular alpha heroes working for him that got their share of gifts from admirers. The soft omegan scent coming from the handkerchief that had wrapped the bento was a solid clue the gift was likely meant for one of them. But really, there was no way to tell for sure who it was supposed to end up with, and he really didn’t want the hard work to go to waste. Yes. Best thing would be to eat the bento, and place the box in the break room with a note inside the box apologizing.

His course of action decided, Kugo opened the bento, quietly sucking a breath as he saw what was inside. There were sausages cut to look like little octopi. A large slab of teriyaki salmon. Rice balls shaped like teddy bear heads, complete with little seaweed faces. He tried to tamp down his delight at seeing over half of the bento was dedicated to tamagoyaki. While he lived up to his stereotype of loving fish, the egg dish was a secret favorite of his; something his mother had made for him whenever he had a bad day when he was growing up. The second layer of the bento had even more. Rice, vegetables, and surprisingly a small but adorable piece of cake. Kugo put the bento back together with a small smile on his face. Perhaps it wasn’t meant for him, but it had been a long time since he had been able to enjoy something like this- cute and homemade, clearly filled with a great deal of care. He couldn’t quite feel guilty as he looked forward to lunch. He could pretend, just this once, that a sweet smelling omega had put so much care into something for him.

~~~~~~

Later that day, when most of the day team had left, Kugo made his way to the common break room. He carefully cleaned out the bento box in the sink, setting it to the side to dry. He folded the handkerchief it had came in, and placed it next to the box before sighing. He was in the process of scribbling a brief apology note when he heard a cough. He glanced up to see y/n leaning against the doorway.

“You okay, chief? Thought your shift ended an hour ago.”

Kugo nodded as he placed his note on top of the handkerchief. “Yes, just had a few things I needed to wrap up. What about you? I know you were supposed to be done several hours ago now.”

You fidgeted, embarrassed, shrugging your shoulders as you glanced away. “Had an idea for how to improve a few items and, well, you know how I get when I have a project. But what have you got there? You never struck me as the homemade lunch type.”

It was Kugo’s turn to look uncomfortable as he shuffled from foot to foot. “It was left on my desk this morning by mistake. I had no way of knowing who it was actually meant for, and I didn’t want it going to waste, so I ate it.”

You frowned as you walked into the room, opening cupboards and starting to retrieve things to make tea. You held a mug up toward Kugo in a silent question, grabbing a second one when he nodded. You were quiet for a few moments, going through the motions. After a while you asked “How are you so sure it wasn’t for you?”

Kugo snorted, leaning back against the counter and gesturing at himself. “Omegas aren’t exactly lined up around the block. I don’t place high on the ‘heroes that look most like villains’ list every year for no reason. Some unfortunate omega got confused about whose office was whose. It’s a shame I couldn’t give it to whoever it was meant for, it was a beautifully crafted bento.” Kugo doesn’t mention the note. Kugo especially doesn’t mention the note had found its way into his desk drawer to save as a memory of how nice it had been to receive the bento, even if it was an accident.

You laughed, passing him a steaming cup of tea, made just how he liked. “Sakamata, don’t talk down about yourself like that. You’re big, strong, and prime alpha material. You’re one of the top heroes! And even more importantly, you’re a gentle kind man that any omega would be lucky to have. I’d bet good money that that bento absolutely was made just for you.”

“A nice thought, but I doubt it. You’ll see. In a few days I bet a bento will make its way to who it was meant for.”

~~~~~~

Kugo stood stock still in the doorway to his office. Sitting on his desk was another cloth wrapped package. Once was a mistake, clearly. But two days in a row? Why on Earth was there another bento on his desk? He approached the desk and slide the bento to him. He untied the scented fabric with care. A cat shaped note greeted him.

“I’m sorry if it wasn’t clear before, Sakamata. I wanted to make this for you because I admire you so much. I’m not always great at saying my feelings, so I hope my cooking says enough.”

This was… for him. The bentos… were for him? He sat in his chair, leaning his head against his hands as he regarded the innocent looking lunch. If it wasn’t a mistake, then what could it be? Probably a fortune hunting omega trying to get in his good graces, if he went off his past experience. Though usually those types of omegas were more likely to offer favors of a different sort. Kugo winced as another thought occurred to him. There was a good chance this omega pitied him. Ugly, intimidating, unmatable. Someone had seen him and decided he needed looking after because clearly he’d never get someone on his own. Yes. That had to be it. He should leave the bento in the break room and end this farce as soon as possible.

His mind made up, Kugo picked up the bundle to do exactly that. The subtle smell of the contents hit his sensitive nose, causing him to salivate. Tempura? Definitely egg. Well, it would be a shame to not even look inside to make sure.

Clearly just as much care had gone into this one as the last one. The rice balls were shaped like little cat heads, to match the note. An assortment of tempura seemed to be the main dish, cute cat shaped food picks stuck in some of them. There were even paw print shaped gummy candies for the dessert. Every inch of the lunch was absolutely adorable. And it was all done for him. There was no way Kugo could let it go to waste. It hurt to know it was a gift given out of pity, but maybe, just for a while, he could pretend there was someone out there who loved him like this. The omega would grow tired of this eventually. Until then, he’d let himself enjoy this.

~~~~~

It was surprising how easily this had become routine. Every day when Kugo walked into his office, there was a new bento waiting for him. And every day he’d unwrap the bento, indulging a brief moment in the cutely patterned handkerchiefs. Every bento was unique and cute. They seemed to show a good understanding of his tastes and preferences. It was a pleasant break on the quiet days and a welcome comfort on the rough days. Each day there was a sweet written note that Kugo gently stored in his desk drawer. It was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

~~~~~~~

Kugo hated attending charity events. It wasn’t the charities, he always supported good causes. It wasn’t the dressing up, or the fancy atmosphere. It was the people. While a few of his friends were around somewhere, there were many many others who didn’t know him well. Others who were intimidated by his appearance. Others who apparently had no idea just how sharp his hearing was.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe Gang Orca is here.”

“I know! Well, I suppose he is a hero. Allegedly, anyway.”

“Did he come with anyone?”

“Of course not. I mean ew. Look at him. Can you imagine cosying up to that at the end of the day?”

“I know! And those teeth! If he tried to bond someone, he’d take their head clean off!”

“As if anyone would want to bond with that.”

“I don’t know. He’s in the top ten pretty often. He has to be loaded, right?”

“Would have to be a lot for me to even consider it.”

“It could be all the money and I still wouldn’t!”

“Oh don’t say that! Poor bastard can’t help he’s unmatable.”

Kugo walked away from the refreshment table as he tried to tune out the unkind comments and mocking laughter. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. He knew full well what he looked like. He had had enough failed courting attempts to know exactly what omegas thought of him. But it still stung. Stung more than usual, actually. The daily bentos with their scented cloths and cute little notes had almost made him forget. The only omegas who were interested either pitied him, or wanted his money. He could never forget that.

~~~~~

What he could forget, apparently, was that the number two pro hero was scheduled to be at his office the morning after the charity gala. Kugo stifled a sigh when he saw the red winged hero waiting outside his agency’s door. Of course he’d have to deal with this on a day when he wasn’t in the best of moods. “Orca! My man, good to see you again!”

Kugo nodded as he held the door open. “Hawks.”

“Didn’t get a chance to talk to you at the party last night. You know how it is. Go to one of those things when you're single, and you get swarmed.”

Kugo gave a non committal grunt. No, he didn’t know. He just wanted this morning to be over with. He perked up slightly as he saw you hurrying down the hallway toward them. Hawks gave a low whistle. “Who's the babe?” Kugo half growled. “That is Miss Y/N. The support item engineer you allegedly came here to see. You will be respectful and refrain from flirting with my staff.”

Keigo held up his hands and laughed. “Hey now big guy, don’t mean any offense. Just saying you’re lucky to get to work with that every day.”

Kugo jerked his head in an abbreviated nod. You slowed down your quick walk as you got closer, not wanting to interrupt the heroes’s conversation. Kugo waved you closer. You smiled at him so brightly as you joined the group. Yes. He was lucky to work with a friend such as you. Kugo’s nerves started to cool a bit as he introduced you and the three of you began to make your way to his office. Hawk’s casual questions were more inquisitive than flirty, and Kugo knew from long experience just how much you enjoyed being able to talk in depth about your work. He was smiling by the time he opened the door to his office, ushering the two or you in. Hawk’s next words hit him like a bucket of cold water to the face.

“Dang! Either you got one hell of a cafeteria service at this agency, or Gang Orca has himself quite an admirer. Delivered right to your desk, pretty bold, man! That’s exactly why I keep my door locked. There’s only so much lunch a man can eat, am I right?”

The bento. He had forgotten about the stupid bento. There it sat, as always. The handkerchief was especially cute today, some sort of pattern with teddy bears hugging and kissing. Any other day, the sight would have calmed him. Any other day he would have sat down and quickly poked through to see what surprises lay inside that day, would have read the note meant just for him with a smile.

But today was different. Others were in his office. The number two hero, handsome and popular. His support engineer, pretty enough to probably have plenty of suitors of her own. And then there was him. Large. Scary. Consistently told he looks like a villain. Has never had a relationship that wasn’t pitying or profiteering. Kugo remembered the whispered remarks from the party. Usually he’d be able to brush off Hawks’s commentary. But today…

Kugo snarled, his scent agitated as he swept his arm across the desk, knocking the bento roughly into the trash. “They are a nuisance that need to cease! I’m so tired of some desperate piting omega shoving their unwanted, unneeded efforts at me! Enough is enough!” At the end his voice was raised to a shout. He was dimly aware of his nails digging deeply into his palms. Kugo leaned on the desk, breathing deeply as he tried to calm himself. He could hear the others shuffling behind him awkwardly.

“Come on,” You murmured and lightly tugged on Keigo’s sleeve. “How about I show you my lab and take some measurements before we get started.”

“Yeah. Um. Yeah.” Keigo allowed you to lead him away. You softly closed the door behind you. Kugo remained, hunched and breathing raggedly. It took him several minutes to calm down. It took him a few minutes beyond that to gather the nerve to make the trek down to the support lab. He slipped into the room as inconspicously as a man with his fram could manage. You were taking measurements off of Keigo and muttering to yourself as you tapped out notes on your tablet. Keigo noticed Kugo’s entrance and greeted him cautiously. “You good?” Kugo nodded. “I… apologize. It’s been a rather trying week, but I should have composed myself better.”

Keigo waved him off. “No worries, man, no worries. Y/n was just telling me she thinks that she’ll be able to rig up something for me that would help slow my fall in situations where my wings get damaged.”

You hummed an affirmative, taking a few more measurements before you started describing your process. Kugo couldn’t help but notice you didn’t look his way. You looked at the ground, at your tablet, at Keigo, but you were clearly avoiding Kugo’s gaze. He mentally winced as he settled onto an out of the way stool. It was rare for him to have that kind of emotional outburst. It probably could be heard even from outside his office. He’d make sure to apologize to you better when he got the chance. But for now, it was looking like it would be a long, awkward day. Goodie.

~~~~~

Kugo growled under his breath the next morning when he saw the cloth wrapped bundle sitting on his desk. Yesterday’s embarrassment was still fresh in his mind as he stalked forward. His thick fingers quickly untied the surprisingly unpatterned piece of fabric. There, under the cloth, on top of the box, was a note as there always was. Kugo’s anger was cooled by confusion when he saw it, however. The paper was a plain yellow post-it note. Instead of the painstakingly cute handwriting with the heart dotted “i’s, there was a clearly hasty scrawl.

“I’m sorry. I never meant to annoy you. This will be the last one.”

Kugo frowned, shifting in his seat. Clearly the bento maker had heard about his outburst from yesterday. That was… unfortunate. But perhaps for the best, since he had no way of directly telling them to cease their nonsense. Unconsciously, his hand balled up the handkerchief and as he had been doing for a while, he scented it.

The cloth had a slight smell of salt to it. Tears, Kugo realized uncomfortably. The smell of tears slightly diluted the normal soothing smell of whoever had carefully packaged these bentos. He had little appetite as he looked over what was there. Tempura. Salmon. Vegetables. A large portion of tamagoyaki. But the part that caused an uncomfortable weight to settle in his chest was the little red box, filled with slightly clumsy, clearly homemade chocolates. Kugo closed his eyes, sighing as he set the box to the side to wait for lunch. This was good. This was what he wanted, to be left alone instead of some kind hearted omega taking pity on him. He had lived a long time without homemade bentos and little notes. He certainly didn’t want the small offering of chocolates. When lunchtime came, he certainly didn’t linger over the food longer than usual, savoring each bite. He tried to tell himself that this was for the best. That this was what he wanted. He refused to think about why he tucked the handkerchief and the box of chocolates into his desk drawer instead of leaving them in the break room as usual.

The next day as Kugo opened his office door, he looked toward his desk out of habit; searching for the lunch that had been left. His chest gave an uncomfortable lurch when he found the desk was bare. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. This was fine. This was what he wanted. The sooner he forgot about all this nonsense, the sooner things would return to normal. He settled into his chair and began sifting through the paperwork he had to deal with. No better way to take his mind off his troubling thoughts and distract the whine of his inner alpha. He was certain. Things would be back to normal soon.

Two weeks later, Kugo listlessly picked at the limp lettuce of the poor excuse of a salad that he had picked up at a convenience store. He sighed, putting the lid back on the barely touched meal resolving to throw it away when he next passed a garbage can. He didn’t like to admit it, but he missed the carefully planned meals. Wondering what cute surprise was going to be next. It was nice that someone thought he might enjoy seeing animal shaped onigiri and cheesecake flavored kit kats. His alpha whimpered when he thought about the contented omega scent that gently perfumed every handkerchief, except the last. But just as the note had said, he had received nothing since that last bento. His thoughts remained gloomy as he entered the agency, quickly making his way into his office, locking the door behind him. He knew better than to hope as he looked towards his desk. Bare, once again. Sighing heavily, he slumped into his chair. He gently pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk. Carefully nestled into it was the cleaned, empty bento box from the last meal, the small box of dwindling homemade chocolates, and that last precious handkerchief.

Kugo carefully removed the handkerchief. He brought the cloth to his nose, inhaling deeply. Stabbing pain shot through him as he realized the scent was barely there anymore. The faint scent of tears almost completely overpowering the last lingering trace of distressed omega. His hands clutched the fabric tightly, squeezing until he realized the stress he was putting on the fabric. He quickly placed it on the desk and tried in vain to smooth out the wrinkles. After a minute of fussing, he gently refolded it and placed it back in the drawer. Kugo stared at the contents, unblinking before slowly sliding the drawer closed. It was almost gone. Everything was almost gone. And he didn’t know how to get it back.

With a low growl, Kugo pushed himself up. Today was a rare day where he hoped for trouble on his patrol. A fight would certainly take his mind off things, and just maybe calm the whining alpha that echoed throughout his entire being.

~~~~

He really needed to be careful what he wished for. Kugo winced as he limped toward the support lab. He had gotten a fight alright. He had gotten three fights, a twisted ankle, and a once again smashed communication headset. It wasn’t his fault that he had gotten thrown backwards into a rather solid concrete wall. Y/N was going to kill him.

Kugo pushed the lab door open, stepping inside. His forehead creased in worry. The lab felt off. Wrong in a way he couldn’t immediately place a finger finger on. Well, he’d have to think about it later, he decided as he made his way to where you were sitting. You were at your workbench, tapping your pen on the table and staring at nothing when he settled down on the stool next to you. You glanced over as Kugo sat down, did a double take and let out a small noise of surprise.

“Sakamata! What happened to you?”

The large man shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “The usual. Villain didn’t behave exactly how I thought, and I paid for not being vigilant enough. Nothing too bad. Twisted ankle and roughed up a little. Unfortunately though…”

Sheepishly as a scolded schoolboy, Kugo pulled the shattered remains of his latest communicator out of his pocket and placed them on the workbench.

“Kugo!”

He couldn’t help but smile. He loved the times when you got worked up enough to call him by his first name. He watched as you gingerly sifted through the sad shattered remains.

“What did you do, hit it with a rock?!”

“Concrete wall, actually.”

You stilled before turning to look at Kugo, sharp and suspicious. “And I assume you were wearing it at the time?”

Kugo had the decency to look embarrassed as he nodded. Suddenly he was being fussed over, gentle hands touching his face and turning his head this way and that. An exclamation and curse left you when you found a large, sluggishly bleeding gash on the back of Kugo’s head.

“You! You Alpha!” You huffed as you started digging through the pockets of your lab coat. Kugo got a brief glimpse of colored fabric before the handkerchief was softly dabbing at his wound. Kugo hissed, only half listening as the scolding continued about how knot headed alphas needed to learn to go to the medical ward first before worrying about stupid replacable tech. He was brought back to the present when a hand, so much smaller than his own, grabbed his hand. You easily maneuvered him so that Kugo was now firmly holding the handkerchief over the cut. You hummed, satisfied for now.

“Now Sakamata, please hold that there until you can get medical to look at it. Doubt a hard headed man like you has a concussion, but might need stitches. I’m not exactly an expert. Don’t worry about the headset. I should be able to get a new one to you before my replacement takes over. And if not, I’ll be leaving some blueprints behind anyway.”

What?

“Replacement?”

You stilled, looking away from him. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I just… I never found the right time to tell you.” You fidgeted, rubbing your thumb over your knuckles. “I’m going to be going to America soon. I’ve gotten a good offer to work with a few heroes over there that need someone specialized in mutation supports. It would do a lot to boost my career…”

Kugo reached out, grabbing your hand, and stopping your nervous motions. He tried to find words in his stalling brain. “This is really sudden, Y/N.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” You wouldn’t meet his gaze.

He gently shook his head, giving your hand a squeeze. “Not scolding you. Just, is everything alright? Is something going on?”

You pulled away, digging your hands into your hair with a sigh. “You know me too well.”

Kugo gave half a smile. “I would hope so. I like to think we’re friends. Is there anything I can do? Are you in trouble in some way?”

You shook your head. “No. No, nothing like that. It’s kind of embarrassing. Just… A courtship that really didn’t turn out well. And I just… I could really use some time away to get my head back on straight. Eagle Pride’s office has mentioned wanting me to go over and collaborate with them for a while, and what better time than now?” Your laugh sounded bitter.

Kugo sat silent and stunned. He hadn’t known you were courting. Being courted? Honestly, he wasn’t even sure of your dynamic. If you weren’t beta, then you certainly hid your scent well. He cleared his throat before speaking hesitantly.

“I certainly won’t stop you if you truly wish to go. It is an excellent opportunity. Might be a step in having your own support company if you wish. And if not, you’re always welcome here, Y/n. You must know that.”

You give a small smile, finally looking him in the eye. His chest tightened when he saw tears there. “I know, Kugo. You’ve been nothing but kind to me. You’re a good friend for putting up with me.”

“There’s no putting up with. I enjoy your company, always.” Kugo reached out slowly, but you turned away and wiped your eyes with your sleeve. He frowned, placing his hand back in his lap. “And you sure you’re alright, Y/N? No one is threatening you, are they? Someone unsafe taken an interest in you?”

You snorted, “Nothing like that. And people think I’m the dramatic one. No. I just got rejected is all. I miscalculated. Thought they were interested, but they made it very clear they aren’t.”

“Then they’re an idiot.” The words escaped Kugo before he even realized what he was going to say. But it was true, he was sure. You were beautiful, kind, smart. Anyone would be beyond lucky to hold your interest. On the rare days he allowed himself to dream, he often thought he’d love to have someone like you as a mate. Someone who knew him well and cared for him as much as he cared for them. He felt pains in his chest and his eyes widened as realization hit him in the face like a wet mackerel. Oh. He was jealous. He was jealous of whoever it was that y/n had tried to court. And he was angry. Furious that some fool had rejected her. Hurt her. But he was glad she was still here. Yet she was going to leave. Going to leave him here alone. His thoughts swirled and tumbled, and he swayed slightly in his seat. And hand on his shoulder stilled him and he looked up into your concerned eyes.

“Hey, you’re not looking too good. You really should get to medical. Do you need me to help you?”

“No. No. I can make it down a few hallways, thank you though.”

Kugo stood, and tried to give back the cloth he had been pressing to his head. You pushed it back, gently scolding him. “I said leave it there until someone can look at it. If you insist on returning a silly old rag, you can wash it and give it back later.”

Kugo nodded and mumbled out a goodbye. He had a lot to think about as he slowly made his way to medical. So. He liked you. The more he thought about it, the clearer it seemed to him. He’d liked you for a while. Things were always easy with you. But now, you’re leaving. He couldn’t stop you, and wouldn’t even if he could. You clearly felt like you needed to go.

He was still ruminating on his thoughts as the doctor ushered him to a bed. He was poked and prodded. Kugo managed to mumble out what must have been coherent answers. In the end, he did end up needing a few stitches. And just like that, he found himself fixed up and back in his office. He snorted a laugh at the absurdity. How can a day like this somehow manage to be just another day? Kugo sat in his chair and twisted the cloth in his hands absently. He brought it to his nose and sniffed out of habit. Oh course, the scent of his own blood was the most dominant. But underneath that was the usual calming scent of omega. His shoulders relaxed as the tension ran out of him. He pulled that cloth away, idly looking at the pattern. It was cute. Floral. Reminded him of the cloth that the first bento had been…

Wait.

Wait.

He hastily brought the handkerchief to his nose again. There was no mistaking it. He knew that smell. He had missed that smell for weeks. It was faint. But it absolutely was there. Omega, soft and sweet. Not any omega. His omega. His bento maker. His y/n.

Y/n.

Y/n who had seen him toss her courting gift in the trash, who thought he had completely rejected her, and who was moving to America.

Kugo was on his feet in an instant. He’d never made the trip to the support lab that quickly before. You jumped when the door flew open, hitting so harshly that the doorknob dented the wall.

“Sakamata! What?”

He dropped to his knees before you, arms wrapped tight around your waist and his head pressing against your stomach.

“Kugo?” You asked softly, hesitantly stroking along his fin. “Kugo, what’s wrong?”

“You’re the best thing life has ever given me. Please don’t leave. Please.”

You made a soft, wounded sound. You kneeled slowly, and took his face in your hands. Kugo leaned into your touch like a man who had been starved of affection his whole life. You stroked your thumbs over his cheeks.

“Kugo, I’m going to need you to speak plainly, so I’m sure I don’t misunderstand. What’s going on?”

His large hands came up, taking both your hands in his.

“I’m an idiot.”

You snorted and tilted your head, confused. He met your gaze as he continued.

“I’m an idiot and I love you.”

You inhaled sharply, looking at him in disbelief. He pulled the crumpled, bloodstained handkerchief from his pocket.

“I’m an idiot because I love you and yet I never even noticed that you loved me too. You showed me every day. You knew I like eggs just as much as fish. You cared enough to make them cute. You gave me extra sweets on days when I was working a double shift. I loved every bento you made me. I have every note saved. And I might be an idiot, but I’d be an even bigger idiot if I let you go without saying something. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, and I love you and please don’t go.”

“Kugo.” You smiled sadly. “I’m sorry. I already promised I’d go.”

Kugo inhaled a shaky breath, his eyes lowering to the floor.

“But,” you used your hands to lift his chin. His gaze snapped back to yours. “It’s just for six months. Six months, and then I’ll be right back here. With you.”

“With me?”

“Mmhmm.” You gave his nose a quick peck. “Always. You’re the best man I know. I don’t think there’s anyone else in the world for me.”

Kugo groaned and pulled you close, burying his face in your neck. From here, although it was very faint, he could smell your soothing scent. “You can’t say things like that and then tell me I can’t have you here for six months!”

You chuckled as you hugged him close. “Well, we have two weeks before I leave. We have a little time. And once I’m back? We’ll have all the time in the world.”

“Even that won’t be enough time to spend with you.”

“Dork.”

He hummed his agreement. “But it’s true. Eternity would be enough time to spend with you.” Before you could protest, he pulled you in for a gentle, but determined kiss.

[chateautae]

the most wonderful time of the year | kth. (m)

➵ summary :  taehyung hasn’t seen you since high school graduation, but when he finds himself in need of a date for his friend’s annual christmas party, running into you is like a godsend; especially when he once had feelings for you, and little did he know, you felt the same way all along.

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre :  nonidol!au, f2l, fluff, smut

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 19k

➵ warnings : mutual pining, sexual content, swearing, dom!tae, cuddling resulting in over the clothes stuff, rough fingering, oral (f. receiving), dirty talk, big dick!tae cause we know he’s packing, marking, restraint (with his own hands), choking, begging, unprotected sex (wrap it up peeps), hitting it from the back 😜, mirror (?) sex (reflection of a window), rough sex but then i love you sex, praising, slight humiliation, denied orgasm, creampie, aftercare

part of ksmutclub’s winter project 2020!, using prompt #7: “did everyone else come with a date?”

➵ a/n : thank you to @getmemyfries​ for beta-reading and constantly reassuring me about this fic, idk where she’s been all my life 😭, but surprise!! would you believe me if i told you guys i grinded this in just 3 days?? because YES i did, 19k in three days as a Christmas gift pretties, happy late holidays!!, comments and feedback are always appreciated <3

“Are you serious, Jimin?” 

“Very. I don’t know how you didn’t get the memo, literally everyone was talking about it.” 

“Did everyone else come with a date? There has to be at least one person who didn’t.” 

“And that one person is you, Tae. Did you forget that I made the theme all about mistletoe? Who did you expect to kiss under it, me?” 

“Super funny, Jimin. I just got really busy and I don’t even think I was paying attention to you.” 

“Well, it’s your loss now, everyone came with a date and you’ll be third-wheeling the whole night. You can’t blame us either, it’s cuffing season and you know it.” 

“Do I really have to come? I’ll just spend Christmas with my family.” 

“And ruin their vacation with your annoying ass? What a lovely son, an even better best friend for ditching my party.” 

“Okay, Jimin, I get it. Just-fuck, alright, I’ll find someone. Please tell me you didn’t plan anything too couply in case I have to bring an absolute stranger.” 

“Hmm, I’ll think about it.” 

And Jimin cut the call without a second to spare. 

Taehyung stood there baffled, appalled by his best friend for not even having said goodbye. But then again, maybe he really deserved it. Taehyung had just become too busy with his job this year to even think about Jimin and his friends’ party, allowing it to inhabit the back of his mind and loom over him for weeks, though not giving it the time of day he should’ve. 

And now he’s stuck in a situation he doesn’t know how to get out of. The party is in just two days, how exactly was he supposed to find someone that would even agree to accompany him? 

One, they would have to be someone explicitly bored on Christmas Eve. Two, comfortable with meeting complete strangers and spending an entire night with them. Third, they would have to be willing to even fake-date him. 

Taehyung knew he could at least satisfy the third requirement with just a smidge of his charm and good looks, though the real issues were the other two requirements, especially the first one. 

Who the fuck is ever doing nothing on Christmas Eve? 

These are the exact thoughts that clouded Taehyung’s mind, sighing heavily as he dejectedly sauntered into a coffee shop after work. It wasn’t the usual place, but he decided on a new one in search of a possible partner; even if it were a stranger from a different coffee shop, he’d take what he could get. 

It’s precisely why he began scanning the room just enough to discern any potential date as he waited in line. With his hands in his pockets, lips buried into his plaid scarf that draped over his brown winter coat, and attempted to make eye contact with any female he thought eligible. 

He spotted some cute girls, though made quick judgements about them not fitting his requirements; some meeting boyfriends, family, yapping away about Christmas plans as though the whole store needed to hear about it.

Pulling out his phone, he considered he had some female friends, maybe co-workers he could convince to tag along. It sounded like a great idea in his head, though when he scrolled though his contacts carefully, he found himself coming up short once again. 

Not only had he seen his friends’ stories, all flaunting their very apparent Christmas plans, but even more so his co-workers having literally informed him about either flying back home, meeting family or easing up far, far away on a tropical beach. 

And he definitely knew there’d be no one available. 

All of it made Taehyung feel deflated once he had placed his order and waited patiently by the store’s counter. He thought he was royally fucked, needed to forego social etiquette and just ask a damn stranger at this point. 

Sighing yet again, he mindlessly looked over to the side, catching a glimpse of the person ordering after him with a voice he suddenly recognized. Taehyung’s eyebrows immediately shot to the sky once he took a double-take, a near injustice to say he was only shocked. 

He was practically floored, had to rub his eyes a few times just to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Surely he’d lost it after the gruesome shift he just pulled at work, because he was pondering how in God’s name was he seeing you of all people ordering. 

How the hell did you manage to look 100x prettier than you used to, Taehyung thought. It was no doubt you; your smile still charming as ever, your hair still elegantly soft, your eyes still naturally sparkling under every Christmas light in the store just like they always did. 

It was really you. 

The same you he knew all throughout high school though moved away after graduation, the same you who was brilliant at every subject though could never understand math, the same you who waltzed into school with that plaid winter coat anyone could recognize you for, the same you who always teased him about his love for pineapple on pizza because you could never comprehend the taste. 

The same you he once liked.   

It was actually you, bundled up in a gray winter coat and white scarf as you smiled a thank you to the barista, eventually making your way over to the counter Taehyung was situated at, settling next to him without having noticed. 

Taehyung thought you were an angel sent from heaven, a Godsend, his one and only true saviour once he studied you up close, concluding that you weren’t just some mirage but in fact his real-life friend from years ago who could possibly rescue him from this Christmas party fuck up. 

And so he didn’t waste a single, valuable moment, because you know what they say, ‘carpe diem’, oh captain my captain. 

“Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you?”

Your surprised eyes snapped towards the oddly familiar low voice, eyebrows shooting up once you resgitered just who exactly said your name. You seemed to be in the same disbelief as Taehyung, himself utterly grateful you’d actually recognized him. 

“Oh my God, Kim Taehyung?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Taehyung laughed shyly. “Damn, how long has it been? 5? 6 years?” 

“6 years, yeah.” You confirmed with a smile. “Since graduation.” 

“I can’t believe that was 6 years ago, seems just like yesterday.” Taehyung couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off his face remembering the chaotic party by the lake you all threw together, resulting in someone nearly drowning, Taehyung downing more alcohol than he ever had in his life, and you shamelessly shoving everyone into the water until you eventually capsized yourself. 

Taehyung had to collect himself to coherently speak sentences again, nearly feeling his neurons incessantly firing off in his brain. “But wow, when did you come back to town?” 

“3 months ago, I was transferred for work.” You informed casually, though your sweet smile was infectious. “Wow, I’m.. I can’t believe I ran into you here.” You were honestly still shocked, marveling at the fact you somehow bumped into Kim Taehyung, the Kim Taehyung from high school.  

The same Taehyung who teased you about being terrible at math, the same one who only ever brought strawberry jam sandwiches to school and God forbid someone ever took a bite. The same Taehyung who was the cute social butterfly everyone completely adored at school. 

The same Taehyung you once liked.   

“It doesn’t feel long indeed, but you look.. different.” You did a light scan of him, noticing just how how much taller, more handsome and manlier he appeared. It was reflected in the edge of his jawline, crisp face structure and broader upper body. 

Quite frankly, he looked incredibly striking, almost intimidatingly so, and you could only think about when Taehyung used to appear a little scrawnier, lankier though still attractive all the same with his adorable eyes and plushy lips. 

It was nearly daunting to see the gorgeous difference now. 

“You look different too.. good different.” He added with a smile as he looked you over, and it was pleasant to see he still had that same boxy smile, the same little creases at the corner of his eyes. Though instead now, his smile looked devilishly handsome, and it was hard to not trip over your own feet about it. 

“You too. You’re so much taller now.” You commented, craning your neck just to converse with him. 

“And you’re still short, huh?” 

Your mouth flew open, scandalized at the comment though laughed when he chuckled at your expression. “Oh c’mon, you’re still gonna tease me about how short I am? It’s been six years, Taehyung.” 

“Hey, don’t think it’s not payback for all those times you lectured me about how ‘inhuman’ liking pineapple on pizza was. I still have your PowerPoint presentations saved.” Taehyung retorted through a laugh, remembering the way you’d really take the time to conjure up presentations just so he could be  unconvinced of the preference. 

“Okay, okay. You got me. Is there ever a way I could make it up to you... Assistant Curator Kim?” You read the lanyard that hung around his neck, inspecting it to see his ID photo along with his job title. 

“Ah,” Taehyung exclaimed, scrambling for the lanyard. “I was in a rush to get out of work so I left it on by accident.” Taehyung explained a little embarrassed, unhooking it from around his neck. 

“Why were you in a rush?” You knitted your eyebrows together, only asking out of innocent curiosity, though Taehyung lit up like a Christmas tree, knowing this was his golden opportunity and he was definitely going to take his chance. 

“Uh.. do you still remember Park Jimin and the rest of our friends?” Taehyung started. 

“Oh my God, of course I do! You’re all still friends?”

“Unfortunately, yeah. I mean, even when we get tired of each other we know nobody else will put up with us, so we’re still close.” Taehyung snickered, remembering him and his friends were still the same 7 dorks from high school. 

“Awh, I wish I could see them, we used to have so much fun together.” You pouted, shoving your hands into your pockets as you recalled amusing memories from years ago; stupid adventures to the lake by your school, chasing the sunset, knowing you probably incessantly bothered the owner of that one gas station you always visited. 

“Actually, the reason why I was rushing was because Jimin holds an annual Christmas Eve party, and this time around he made it a ‘bring-a-date’ memo, and I kinda got too busy to remember.” Taehyung began scratching the back of his neck, a little shy considering he didn’t really listen to Jimin when he should’ve. 

“Ohh.” You nodded understandingly. “So you forgot to get a date?” 

“Yeah.” Taehyung confirmed, nodding with some disappointment in himself. “But say, you mentioned a favour, right?” Taehyung eyed you knowingly, hand never leaving his neck as he forced himself to get the question out. “Are you doing anything on Christmas Eve?” 

You were a little taken aback, thinking you knew exactly where he was going with this, and also thinking it was a damn Christmas miracle. You remembered your unfortunate situation for Christmas Eve; your parents having booked a cottage for themselves considering you’d be working that day, though gladly enough your boss decided it was the most wonderful time of the year, so why the fuck would he keep people hostage at work? 

It landed you with quite literally nothing to do on the joyous day, and excitement began to fill your chest already about your answer, though you composed yourself to appear normal. 

“No, actually. My parents are at a cottage together, so I was going to be home.” 

Taehyung could’ve been on cloud nine right about now, thanking God or whatever supreme being for answering his prayers. You’d literally checked off his every requirement perfectly, and now all that was left was...

“Would you like come to Jimin’s party as my date? I know it’s only in 2 days and it’s really sudden, but I’m kinda stuck right now and I promised Jimin I would come after finding someone, he’ll probably kick my ass if I don’t-” 

“I’d love to come.” You broke out into a grin at his adorable rambling, nearly giddy your assumption from before was exactly correct.

“Wait, seriously? You mean that?” Taehyung asked in wonderment. 

“Why would I lie to you, Taehyung?” You chuckled at the endearing way his face was lighting up, trying to ensure he couldn’t see the stars in your eyes as you looked at him.  

“Oh my God, you actually just.. saved my life.” Taehyung reveled, expression of utter gratitude. 

“Don’t mention it. It’s all I can do after making you sit through 10 minutes of me berating you for liking fruit on pizza. It’s still weird, by the way.” 

“Hey, don’t make me take your drink and ask you to jump for it.” Taehyung chastised, biting back a smile at the fact that you two still bickered like old times. 

“Fair point, so in two days, huh?” 

“Mhm. Can I get your number, actually? I’ll send you the details tonight.” Taehyung began digging for his phone in his pocket. 

“Oh, yeah of course.” You agreed as you went for yours. You both huddled a little closer to exchange the digits, trading phones and adding your names into each other’s contacts. It dawned a slight fuzzy feeling in your chest, getting a whiff of Taehyung’s masculine cologne and realizing in this proximity, just how incredibly ravishing Taehyung had in fact grown up, how much larger and broader he was in comparison to you. 

That he was a man now, not the quirky little dork you once knew, and that thought alone caused something to momentarily alight inside you. 

He was a man now. 

“Remember when we only had iPods and had to talk through our land lines?” Taehyung took a trip down memory lane and grounded you back to Earth, returning your phone to you. 

“Ah yes, when technology was just expanding and us 90′s kids were always caught in the weird middle.” You reminisced as he chuckled, recalling the older days. 

You were just finishing typing in your name for your contact, nearly clicking save until you decided to add the little bow emoji next to your name, handing Taehyung’s phone back to him. 

“A bow?” Taehyung inquired, finding it cute. 

“I deserve it, I’m your little Christmas present under your tree, aren’t I?” You flashed him a cute flower pose with a kittenish grin, the barista calling out Taehyung’s order just after. 

Taehyung could only smile widely, endeared you still had that same playful charm. “Yeah, you are.” He made for his drink and nabbed it, fixing his phone back into this pocket before addressing you. “I’ve gotta get going. I’ll see you in 2 days, okay? It was seriously great meeting you again. Y/N.” 

“You too, I’ll see you then!” You chimed with a wave as Taehyung began stepping away, almost turning from him until he suddenly called out to you one last time, just about through the door.  

“Thank you again, Y/N, I owe you, my Christmas present!” He shouted his last words through a stupid smile, you returning the same one as a welcome before Taehyung exited the shop. 

And you couldn’t stop yourself from breaking out into the goofiest grin then, cheeks hotter than you remembered. You were glad Taehyung was still the same charismatic, easily lovable person from high school, the same charm and adorable impishness about him. 

Only now, he was all grown up and matured, no longer the slightly awkward, though heartfelt kid who liked stealing your history notes. And you became a little afraid feeling the same flutter in your heart from 6 years ago, curious if it was just a momentary lapse upon seeing him again, or signaling the ignition of an old flame it took you years to forget. 

Taehyung : remember to bring your competitive side today ;)

You : omg, what did jimin plan? 

Taehyung : you’ll have to wait and see 

Taehyung : jimin’s a creative one, remember? 

You : how could i forget? i’m never forgiving him for making me spend 3 hours writing calligraphy for that anthro project 😭

Taehyung : man, the guys are gonna love seeing you again

Taehyung : be there in 5! 

You : gotchu! 

You hated that you smiled so stupidly at your screen, never having forgotten the fluttery feeling Taehyung always managed to manifest in your stomach.

You clicked your phone screen off and checked over your outfit for the umpteenth time, wanting to look good not only for Taehyung (though that was the primary reason) but also for the rest of the crew. It’d seriously been too long since you last saw each other, having always been up to dumb shenanigans in high school though sadly parting ways after graduation. 

It was only inevitable with everyone’s future plans being so dissimilar, you having gone down the road of law and miraculously scoring a scholarship to a prestigious university a few towns over, spelling your departure from your beloved childhood city and therefore, goodbye to everyone you knew. 

You were glad the boys managed to remain so closely-knitted despite their different paths; Taehyung having clearly acquired a job at a museum considering his love for art. Last time you remembered, Jimin was an aspiring dancer, Hoseok was a natural at hospitality, Seokjin always rambled on about acting, Jungkook was gifted with a camera, Namjoon adored books and Yoongi wouldn’t trade music for the world. 

It was bittersweet recalling such memories, having to leave behind everything you knew to pursue your own dream. Bitter, though sweet knowing you had larger than life opportunities awaiting you. It was precisely what landed you your current job, working comfortably at a high-status law firm albeit stealing very much of your time. 

It was perfect, nonetheless, since the main office was located back home and you had just been transferred 3 months ago, finding your way back 6 years later. You didn’t know if the boys were still in town, had no real clue where their lives went with only stray social media posts indicating they were still alive and healthy. 

So running into Taehyung all of a sudden? It made you more than glad, remembering not only your fun times together as a group, but your comfortable friendship with him, and the undeniable feelings you’d developed overtime. 

Suffice to say, you both were quirky yet cute, and you made perfect sense. Not only did it land you two a supportive relationship full of laughs and teasing, but also numerous instances where someone’s actions or behaviour became suggestive, questioned the borders of actual friendship between you though nobody willing to take the leap, and it left all your friends inquiring exactly when you two would start dating. 

Though that was the sad part, you never did. And the reason why? You have no real clue. It simply never dawned on you to express your feelings towards Taehyung in fear of him not feeling the same, thinking your crush was just a phase and you’d eventually view him as a friend again, a process of denial you repeated for the 4 grueling years of high school.

Though the second you realized you’d have to say goodbye so soon, with the possibility you’d never see him again, you realized Taehyung was the one boy you truly loved, and sometimes questioned if you still did. 

It hurt to have to hug him one last time before you disconnected, remembering the way you cried having to part from everyone, and Taehyung held you against him until your eyes dried, waving an innocent goodbye before you rounded the corner of your street and disappeared forever. 

To this day you haven’t got a clue if Taehyung ever felt the same, always chalking up his little lingering touches, hugs and double entendres to his naturally flirtatious and outgoing nature. It hindered your ability to say anything, thinking over the years maybe your non-confessional departure was an enormous mistake. 

So when you heard the doorbell of your apartment ring, in the five minutes Taehyung promised, your heart couldn't help but leap at the thought you’d see him again, meet all your old friends and spend an entire festive, fun-filled night with them. 

You made for the door without a second thought and pulled it ajar, meeting Taehyung’s somehow more stunning self all ready to go. He’d decided today to dress with a tan plaid coat, black turtle neck poking out from underneath paired with black slacks to match; and you realized Taehyung definitely invented the all-black look. 

Sources? You. 

You almost gawked, his hair set to reveal some forehead though curl just before his eyebrows, and it was evilly handsome. He was evilly handsome. 

You remembered he was standing right in front of you, thinking a good moment has passed since you uttered anything, a warm smile as you addressed him. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” He greeted back, scanning over you, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered for a second on your legs. You’d gone for your same gray coat, though surprisingly with an all black outfit underneath as well, cute wrap around dress with a v line dipping just generously enough, all paired with pantyhose. 

Who cares about a little cold when you want to look cute anyway, right? 

“We’re matching, it’s cute.” He complimented, his smile just a little impish as it met your chest momentarily though flashed back up to you. 

“I guess you’re cute too.” You shrugged, nearly hiding your face under his scrutiny. 

“We should get going, m’lady. Jimin’ll chew my head off if I’m late too.” Taehyung feigned a sophisticated tone, turning aside and holding out his arm for you to loop like a gentleman. 

You chuckled just a little and clutched your side bag, hooking onto his arm as you switched the lights of your apartment off and shut the door behind you. 

“Now would the kind sir tell me what we’re doing today?” You inquired as Taehyung began walking you down the hallway, peering at his God-like side profile. “You’ve been so mysterious about it.” 

Taehyung clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Now what’s the point of a surprise if I tell you?” 

“But why is it a surprise? Don’t tell me it’s something ridiculous like rock climbing.” You playfully scolded, trying to keep up with his long strides as he led you towards the elevator. 

“Maybe it’s just to see the way your face will light up when you find out.” Taehyung suggested with narrowed eyes as he looked down at you, you staring back at him in scrutiny until you both snickered. 

And as you entered the elevator arm in arm with him, maybe you felt that same skip of your heartbeat from years ago. 

“Holy shit, Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you?” Jimin’s face was utterly surprised, his warm, puppy eyes you remember too well wide as he held the door open.

“Of course it is, Park Jimin!” You cheered as you held your arms out for a hug, his gentle arm wrapping around your torso as he beamed.

“The guys are not gonna believe this, I gotta tell em’. Come in, come in!” Jimin ushered you and Taehyung inside, redirecting his attention to the beautiful, open space condo he called his humble abode. “Guys! Come to the front, look who’s here!”

You and Taehyung were propping your boots off when people eventually came piling into the front foyer and responding to Jimin absentmindedly. All were similarly unsuspecting their eyes widened when landing on you, sounding the next slew of hilarious commentary you’d missed too damn much. 

“No way, is that Y/N?”

“Holy fuck, Y/N?”

“Y/N, we thought you left town, when did you come back?”

“Taehyung, how the hell did you find her?”

“Even better, how the fuck did he get her to come as his date?” It was Jungkook who made the quip that elicited everyone’s snickering, yourself simply overwhelmed by the amount of memories that came back just by the sound of their quite manlier now, though familiar voices.

They all still had the same charming features, each of them reminiscent of their teenaged selves, but the difference? Now they were polished into captivatingly good-looking men you were baffled to even know at this point. 

“Oh my God, it’s been 6 years, just let me hug you guys!” You excitedly gestured for them to come to you, friendly smiles all around as you embraced and reunited. 

“Jungkook, why wouldn’t she agree? You trying to say something?” Taehyung didn’t let the earlier insult go, eyebrows quirked as he retorted.

“Dude, Y/N has always been out of your league.” Yoongi added.

“And honestly, now she’s even more out of your league.” Seokjin joined the teasing and it erupted another bout of cackling from the group, you only left to shyly scrunch your nose and giggle.

“Okay, okay, let’s move from standing here, yeah? There’s a party and 6 years worth of catching up to do!” Jimin chimed, chastising everyone huddled by the corridor and allowing you and Taehyung to settle into the home.

Jimin was still the meticulous perfectionist you knew back then, his home adorably charmed with Christmas decorations that made his place feel incredibly warm. His pretty Christmas tree in the corner with some gifts wrapped underneath, his fireplace adorned with pretty stockings, even the small trinkets scattered around were reminding your sadly adult-self that it was indeed Christmas, and it’s meant to be jolly. 

It automatically created an atmosphere of festivity, and catching sight of the dates each friend brought moving about, it only felt more like the holidays with 14 people occupying the home. 

You were marveling with a wide smile at the scene before you, everyone moving back into the house to resume what they were previously doing until you suddenly felt someone’s hands hook onto the neck collar of your jacket from behind. You whirled around in an instant with seeking eyes, viewing the culprit was none other than the only owner of the largest, most slender hands you still found incredibly attractive.

Goddamn you.

“Sorry, I’ll just take your jacket for you.” Taehyung realized he may have startled you. 

“Oh!” You exclaimed, hurriedly shredding off the layer not having noticed you were still wearing it. “I could put it away myself though, give me yours.”

You reached for Taehyung’s jacket in his hands, though he immediately jut the jacket further away from you in protest. “No, no. You’re my date, I’m taking it.”

“But Tae-”

“Hey, you’re my present, remember? You deserve it.” Taehyung mimicked you from your exchange at the coffee shop, you ultimately acquiescing as a result.

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes playfully, though a laugh was pulling at you all the same. “What would you be, though?” You asked out of curiosity. “If I’m the present, what are you?” 

Taehyung toyed with your question in his thoughts until he chose the perfect answer, lips growing into a smirk as he drew closer to your face a little. “The one who gets to open it up.”

Something shot through you that was alarming, his cocked eyebrow indicative he was being suggestive, and you played it off with a scoff. “It’s not even Christmas morning yet, and I know you’re just the goodest little boy on Earth who’d wait until he can open his presents.” You clasped your hands together, condescendingly feigning innocence. 

“Or maybe you just never got to know, Y/N.” Taehyung then suddenly leaned down much closer to your face, inches from you as he looked into your eyes. “I haven’t always been a good boy.” 

Taehyung was boring something undistinguishable into you, though the double meaning of his words left apparent heat in the air between you. 

And here it fucking was again, those same double entendres Taehyung had always shot your way though you always took it as him simply fooling around, so you always joined in with your own jokes, assuming the same approach now.  

“Hmm, we’ll see about that, Good boy. Santa’s watching.” You countered as you patted his chest sarcastically, causing Taehyung to stand to his full height biting his lip. 

He stared at you for a moment before walking away, noticing how long his legs were and the unfair curve of his ass, and you suddenly gained a new feature of his to ogle at. He eventually disappeared and you breathed, temporarily forgetting you had a dumb habit of holding your breath whenever he was so close; his piney with a hint of ocean breeze cologne having been left behind, and hitting you like a truck just as much as his all black outfit did. 

God fucking dammit. 

You decided to ignore your intrusive thoughts and waltz into the party instead, grabbing yourself a drink and eventually making your way towards some of the boys’ pretty dates. It was refreshing to feel the presence of women, thanking the Heavens they were all relatively sweet and amicable. 

Conversation always came easy to you, what with being a lawyer who has to be a master with words anyway, so it wasn’t difficult to not only befriend some of the girls, but also reconnect with the boys merrily, Taehyung by your side. 

“Y/N, how dare you not contact any of us about coming back?” Hoseok asked, a little upset timbre in his tone. 

“Yeah, I’m actually a little hurt you ended up coming with Tae of all people. After all the books I shared with you?” Namjoon feigned disappointment, a hand to his heart in near heartbreak. 

“Dude, what’s wrong with her coming with me? Not my fault you gave her boring ass books.” Taehyung defended.

“Tae, you’d steal her history notes for fuck’s sake.” Namjoon countered with narrowed eyes. 

“Guys, it’s been years. I just thought it’d been too long, so I didn’t say anything.” You stopped them, sadly remembering the way communication dwindled out the more you all progressed in your life. 

“Look, you’re always welcomed, Y/N. You think I’d forget the girl who pulled an all-nighter just to edit my shitty final essay for English? I told you I’d write your name on my damn tombstone when I got an 80.” Seokjin laughed with a glass of eggnog, though supportive in his remark and it made you reminisce. 

“I have no clue to this day how you passed English on just Sparknotes. Jungkook hated English more than you and he still managed to actually read 1984.” You chastised him like old times, though now it was a memory that brought a smile to your face. 

“Look, I wasn’t interested in knowing the asshole motives of Big Brother and the 3-minute hate speech.” Seokjin defended himself. 

“2-minute, and it was still a good book.” 

“You’re telling me 60 pages of that dumb manifesto Winston found was good?” Taehyung perked up with crossed arms, quirking his eyebrows at you in incredulousness.  

“Oh c’mon, you learn the entire history of the Party and all their bullshit.” 

“And you’re still a nerd, I see.” Taehyung ticked his head to the side with his snarky remark. 

“Oh shut up, I got a better mark than you on the final essay anyway.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re a nerd.” Taehyung countered. 

You gave a disapproving, scrutinizing look as you marched your way over to Jimin’s Christmas tree, comically gesturing to the Balsam Fir beside you. “I’m literally your Christmas present under the tree, Taehyung, you have to be nice to me.” You chastised him though it only made the boys looking on crack up. 

“Y/N, you’re still hilarious as fuck.” Hoseok was lighting up with laughter, his pretty giggles sounding in a way that honestly made you giggle in the end too, Taehyung only letting up because you were just so you, and it tugged at his heart strings.

“Speaking of Jungkook from earlier, where is he? I just remembered the math notes he owes me his life for.” You perked up, gauging his presence around in the condo. 

“He’s over there eating the chocolate chips, yah, Jungkook! Stop it!” Seokjin scolded from across the room where Jimin and Yoongi were bustling about in the kitchen, and you became confused hearing the mention of chocolate chips. 

“Chocolate chips? I mean, I’m not complaining, but that’s quite the eccentric choice for party food.” You held up your hands in mock surrender. 

“Oh, Taehyung didn’t tell you? It’s for the competition later.” Namjoon informed, though you only furrowed your eyebrows. 

“Competition?” 

“Yeah, baking competition. Jimin planned a couple’s one for his mistletoe theme. I’m beating all your asses, by the way. I’m a genius at decorating.” Hoseok folded his arms with a self-satisfied expression. 

“Please, my girlfriend and I hold weekly bake-offs, watch yourselves, losers.” Seokjin calmed everyone down with his own greatness, you simply becoming beyond excited. 

You turned to Taehyung in an instant, expression completely telling of wonder as you inquired with a high-pitched tone. “Tae, you didn’t tell me we were having a baking competition, that’s so cool!” You beamed, elatedly looking towards Jimin and Yoongi preparing ingredients.  

“Taehyung’s a cryptic one, remember?” Namjoon joked, trying to stifle a laugh with a hand over his mouth, and Taehyung immediately defended himself.

“Shut up, hyung.” He sounded offended, though the smile tugging at his lips indicated after years of friendship, he’d never actually grow vexed at his admirable friend. 

Taehyung then met your eyes, smile growing more apparent, warmer. “I told you it was to see the way your face would light up, didn’t I?” He tilted his head to the side then, eyes playfully studying you as he confirmed his observation. “Yup, your eyes totally still sparkle the same.” 

You couldn’t help but fill with another wave of fuzziness, feeling as though Taehyung always knew how to make your insides all giddy, and maybe even thinking what’s so wrong if your feelings really were coming back? 

You could only smile sheepishly at him, the rest of the boys knowingly watching the two of you like they have for years, everyone only falling out of the trance of the moment when Jimin’s voice called out from the kitchen.  

“Alright Martha Stewarts, who’s starting the ass-kicking?” 

“Hyung! That’s not fair, you can’t steal from us!” Jungkook scolded him as you watched the mania in front of you, Seokjin and his girlfriend Sa-Ha vs. Jungkook and his date Mira. It was becoming devastatingly hilarious, both teams only having 1 minute left until their cookies had to be plated in tip-top shape, all scrambling to create the best-looking ones. 

“I can and I will, you stole from us first!” Seokjin rebutted him, Jimin raising his voice to signal how much left time was. 

“30 seconds you guys, make it count!” And it was another catastrophic seconds until the timer went off, both teams exhausted and complaining all the same about their hard time fueled by Jin and Jungkook’s endless bickering. 

It was laughs for the few of you looking on, waiting your turns until Jimin’s date Song-i chose from the hat of pairings, your eyes going wide once she called out your name with Taehyung’s against Hoseok and his date. 

“Oh my God, Tae, that’s us!” You grabbed his arm alarmed, seeming nervous and it caused him to look at you. 

“Why are you so nervous? We’ll do great.” 

You scoffed at him in protest. “Taehyung, you did horrible in home ec, we’re gonna lose!” 

“Hey, I’ll make you jump for the ingredients, have some faith, will you?” Taehyung retorted, grabbing you by your hand and dragging you over to one of the two counters Jimin’s grand condo had to offer. 

“We’re taking you guys down on decorations, I’m a genius.” Hoseok gloated from his counter, tying his apron as he eyed you. 

“I have a curator on my team, Hobi, we’re beating you.” You scrutinized him with an angry pout as he stuck his tongue out, you whirling back around to adjust your apron. 

“Okay everyone, aprons on?” Jimin inquired, you having put on yours though watching Taehyung struggle with figuring out the apparently rocket-science contraption. 

You sighed with a laugh until you grabbed it from his hands, helping him out. “It’s like this, Tae.” You got on your tippy-toes to situate the apron around his neck as he bent down for you, the contrast of your heights always having made Taehyung a little weak. 

He was only left to watch you as you fixed the apron onto him, finding himself not even watching anymore, but straight up gazing, admiring. 

Admiring the way your eyes were always in a state of perpetual sparkle, your small lips he never forgot the amount of times he contemplated kissing, your dress revealing your collarbones and chest that beckoned for him to just tear it off, all weakening him even more so.

What made him even weaker, however, was noting the way you’ve matured into a woman after 6 years. 

A very beautiful, attractive woman. 

Your body had always been art to him, but now you were polished into a masterpiece he desired to adore, run his hands all over. Your face structure was more evened out, hair set to fall elegantly upon your shoulders and neck so utterly inviting it all added a sense of sexy maturity to you. 

It was distracting, Taehyung venturing off on the thought you were a woman now, not the innocent, sweet nerd he once knew, and it constantly began to rack his brain when he felt something course through his veins about it. 

Because you used to be so painfully innocent, so naturally a girl next door he couldn’t help but want to taint sometimes, to ruin and unravel for his own. He could even feel it with every time your smaller hands touched his body as you worked the apron guilelessly, wanting to snatch up your wrists instead and do unspeakable things, especially with that fucking dress on his mind. 

What made it all worse is that Taehyung could tell you only acted guileless, and never actually were. You also made your own suggestive comments, always caught his drift and he could tell you weren’t the innocent little thing you appeared to be. 

 Taehyung was so completely lost he heard you suddenly calling his name. 

“Taehyung, are you listening?” 

He blinked. “Huh?” 

“You have to listen to what I say, okay? Just follow my instructions and we’ll win against them.” You made little fists in the air to encourage him, Taehyung mimicking the action. 

“Y-yeah. I will, let’s do this.” You turned around after smiling sweetly, fixing some of the utensils on the counter and completely unsuspecting of Taehyung’s thoughts. 

That even after 6 years apart, after thinking he’d successfully forgotten about you, there was still something that pulled at his heart every time he saw you smile, every time you were ever near him. 

And he came to the conclusion maybe his feelings really haven’t changed from 6 years ago. 

“Taehyung, can you pass me the butter, please?” You asked urgently, whisking away at your bowl of almost-there cookie dough with Taehyung hovering around you as he watched. 

“Got it.” He returned with some of the butter, you struggling to scoop some of it until Taehyung reached out for the block. “Here, let me do it and you whisk.” 

“No, you’ll end up putting in too much. Let me do it.” You nudged him with your elbow, picking at the butter. 

“But you’re already whisking, just let me take it out.” Taehyung protested as he reached, though you blocked him right away.  

“No, Tae, remember we decided I’m on baking and you’re on decorating?” 

“Your job is way harder than mine and I’m useless right now, let me at least whisk.” Taehyung grabbed for the bowl until you snatched it away from him, already done with scooping the butter when the action caused some of the flour to fly up on your dress, gasping scandalously. 

“Taehyung!” You whined, Taehyung scrambling for a quick apology. 

“Oh fuck, Y/N, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” Taehyung almost completed until a splash of flour went hurtling onto his shirt, causing him to look down with his mouth agape. “You did not just throw flour on my black turtleneck.” 

“You got flour on my black dress first, you tree.” Your eyebrows were set hard as you scolded him, still loosely whisking away at the cookie dough. 

“It was by accident, you half-pint.” Taehyung rebutted, trying to bat the flour off himself.

“Then mine was an accident too.” You mocked him, unsuspectingly whisking again when flour suddenly hit your chest, offended to find Taehyung snickering with it all over his hand. 

“That was an accident, too.” 

“You’re so...” You huffed out as you placed the bowl down and grabbed your own handful of flour, just about to throw it on Taehyung when is large palms came up to snatch your wrists, forcing your arms back as he snickered. 

“Taehyung, this is unfair!” You complained, struggling against his hold. 

“It’s an accident.” Taehyung mimicked with a genuine laugh watching you scramble in his hold, until the smile wiped off his face shortly after when you simply released the flour from your palm and it spilled all over his turtleneck. 

Your cheeks puffed up trying to contain your laughter, Jimin’s own giggling fit sounding and you remembered he was monitoring the competition. “Taehyung, you dumbass, you had that shit coming.” He held his stomach, entire body laughing at his best friend. 

You were giggling along with Jimin until Taehyung had had enough, licking his lips with mischief. 

“That’s it, come here.” He then spun you around and engulfed you with his arms from behind, holding you snug to his chest as you tried to escape him alarmingly, knowing what Taehyung was going to do next. 

“Taehyung please, wait, I beg of you, don’t!” And it was already too late when you felt his long fingers begin to tickle at your sides, your incessant protests melding with giggles along with his beautiful laughter filling the kitchen. 

You continued to fight against his hold, the constant feather-like touches making you reel and breath leave your lungs. “Taehyung, stop! Oh my God,” you struggled through a laugh while he nuzzled his face into your hair. “I’ll die, Taehyung, please!” 

“Nope, this is what you get.” Taehyung continued his onslaught as he held you tighter, you beginning to acquiesce in order to reason with him.  

“Okay, okay, look. We’re running out of time!” You tried controlling your laughter, tears pricking at your eyes as you tried to calm down. “We have to beat Hobi and Ah-yeong or else we’ll lose!” 

His amused voice sounded near your ear, still reprimanding you. “I’ll only stop if you say sorry.” 

“Alright, I’m sorry!” You were grabbing at his wrists for release. “I didn’t mean it, just stop tickling me!” You protested with a giggle until you felt his fingers rest, rather exchanging it for simply encasing you. 

“Good girl, you’re getting on Santa’s nice list.” Taehyung joked. 

You could only sigh as you resupplied oxygen to your lungs, moving towards the bowl. “Okay, let’s get back to work before we lose.” You puffed out air, breaths levelling as you returned to the counter and grabbed the whisk and bowl, only to find Taehyung hadn’t retracted his arms yet. 

He instead remained behind you, reaching for the utensils in your hands, his large ones grasping them along with you and the contrast of his broad body enclosing your smaller one made you feel something in your core.

Your eyes widened in surprised when his head unexpectedly found your shoulder, resting his chin there as he peered down at the bowl before you, you sputtering. “Taehyung, w-what are you doing?”

“Helping you, is there a problem?” The deep cadence of his voice was just by your ear, dangerous for your health. 

“N-no. But it’s okay, I’m fine on my own-” 

“Nope, this is the least I can do for you..” Taehyung’s tone seemed to trail off suddenly, having calmed down from his laughter and you found him speaking in earnest. “You’re my Christmas present I dragged all the way here with me, remember?” 

You could only smile sympathetically as you looked to your side, eyes welcomed by his gorgeous side profile on full display just centimeters from you. It made you realize just how close he was, his warmth engulfing you and it caused little sparks to fly inside your chest.  

“It’s not so bad, Taehyung. You’re just a good boy who needed his little Christmas present.” You teased light-heartedly, proud of your remark until Taehyung suddenly turned towards your ear, ghosting the shell of it with an unexpectedly darker tone, low and down right gruff.

“I’m not always a good boy.” He stated it simply, though the hot baritone in his words oddly left your spine cold, freezing over even more when Taehyung then wrapped his arms entirely around your torso, pulling your back to his chest. He did it so tightly you could suddenly feel your ass pressed to his covered length, oddly contradicting how couple-like you two probably appeared and it was goddamn intoxicating. 

You panicked at first but eventually basked in his hold, mustering the courage to speak with a suggestive tone. “I’m not always a good girl, either.” 

You threw it out there, cheeks slightly heating adding your own double entendre, though the way Taehyung suddenly tensed for a second had you feeling more confident, the puff of air he sucked in apparent. 

The conversation only ended with a satisfied hum from Taehyung as he watched you bake, a nice rumble that reverberated from his chest and into your back, feeling an odd arousal spike all the way down to your toes. 

It was already lethal with his pretty hands holding around your waist, the closeness an added thrill. It made your chest fill with something riveting, almost anticipatory of what all of this meant between you two, excited for wherever this night would truly go. 

It wasn’t long before it came time for Taehyung to plate and decorate the cookies, carefully placing his little embellishments he swore were the cream of the crop as you bickered with him, your incessant teasing resulting in you hugging him from behind while he worked. 

And Taehyung knew he was doomed the second he felt your very obvious chest press into his back, his nerves pumping carnally as he then felt a side of him he’s always hid from you escape its reigns. 

It was damn transparent Seokjin and his girlfriend would win, their exquisite baking and cooking skills having created masterpieces everyone dug into happily. It’d won them the choice of what movie everyone would watch tonight along with a dinner that the losers, surprisingly not you and Taehyung, but Namjoon and his date would have to pay for. 

Everyone was now seeking comfortable positions for the movie around the TV while you were last minute cleaning with Jimin in the kitchen, offering your help after the mess you and Taehyung made with your little flour mishap. 

Taehyung had properly gotten rid of the flour on his sweater, now lounging on an armchair in the living room with his phone in hand. You felt yourself glancing towards him more than you should’ve, reprimanding yourself each time though found yourself doing it nonetheless. 

It was just hard to keep your eyes off him when Taehyung was the epitome of a Greek God, questioning how such a being is allowed to walk among us commoners. His chiseled jawline was far too handsome for his own good, his neck sculpted so perfectly it left you you wondering what it would feel like to mark him up all over, and the way his long legs were manspreading before him was so inviting the sight alone made you figuratively drool. 

And fall even harder. 

You didn’t realize you were ogling until Jimin’s hushed voice pulled you out of your reverie. “You’re staring.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

Jimin chuckled as he continued to wipe the counter one last time. “It’s been 6 years, why don’t you just say something?” 

“There’s nothing to say, Jimin.” You tried brushing him off, though Jimin didn’t buy it. 

“My ass, Y/N. You really think after what happened in the kitchen there’s nothing between you two?” 

“I don’t know, it’s just how Taehyung is.” You concocted an excuse, deflating as you did so.  

Jimin shook his head in disapproval. “It’s been like this since high school, Y/N, why didn’t you just tell Taehyung how you felt?” 

You looked at him in earnestly before softening into a sigh, knowing Jimin was really the only person you ever spilled your feelings for his best friend to. 

“Because I was scared, Jimin. You know how hard it was for me to even admit it to you.” You answered with a quiet voice, scrapping the flour you threw at Taehyung into the garbage. 

“But Y/N, you two... the way you are. What were you so afraid of?” Jimin’s sweet, pacifying voice asked, clearly having been rooting for you both ever since you fessed up. 

“Rejection, Mimi. Even if we’re like that...” You trailed, thinking over your relationship with Taehyung. “What if it’s all only a joke on his end? Taehyung has always been naturally flirty.. and we’re friends. I don’t think I’m any different than a conquest.” 

Jimin understood your point, though made it his own to advise you otherwise, washing out the cloth in the sink. “Y/N, that’s only what you believe.” His eyes told you of genuine support, offering like the comfort fairy he’s always been. “Just because you believe something, doesn’t make it true.” 

And that damn well hit home for you, realizing that maybe you’ve really been in your head too much about this, overthinking by creating doubts and excuses in your head to subdue your fear of confessing to Taehyung, to avoid the hurt of rejection but possibly missing an entire opportunity. 

“You should tell him, Y/N. It’s been long enough, you’ll never know how he feels if you don’t try.” 

You became apprehensive. “But how do you know if he’ll feel the same way?” Jimin could only chuckle to himself, his smile radiant as he found you the most innocent, yet funnily oblivious thing on Earth. 

“Look at the way he acts around you, Y/N.” Jimin advised. “He’s my best friend, and I’ve never seen him like that with anyone except you. Conquests are conquests, but you’re you, and that’s different to him.” 

Your mind instantly went into a frenzy, thinking well fuck, Jimin is Taehyung’s best friend, and he’s telling you that all this time Taehyung has never really enacted the same behaviour and energy with anyone expect you? This whole time? What does he mean you’re different? You’re.. different to him? Aren’t you just his female friend he’s known since ninth grade, and so surely there’s nothing but the added value of history there, right? 

Right?

You were only left to digest Jimin’s words as you placed the dustpan back to its original spot, Jimin finishing up with the sink. The conversation ended there, Jimin guiding you back to the living room and nestling himself next to his date. You were distracted with Jimin’s suggestions until you walked into the space and realized there was nowhere for you to sit, the couples perfectly paired up and occupying all the available space. 

Your entrance is what made Taehyung snap his vision to you from his phone, watching your confused face contemplating where to sit until he whispered to you, motioning towards himself on the armchair furthest from the screen and tucked behind the other couches. “Y/N, come here.” 

You studied his placement, on a singular armchair with his lap very much open. You shivered at the sight, though protested in a hushed tone realizing the chair could really only fit him. “There’s nowhere for me to sit.” 

Taehyung then spread his legs a little further apart and tapped his thigh, revealing some space for you to sit.. on him. “You can sit here.” 

You were glad the lights were turned off, just so Taehyung didn’t have to see the blush that rose to your cheeks when you answered. “Um, o-okay.” 

You then ambled over to him in front of the rather comfy looking armchair, thanking God everyone was too distracted bickering over Seokjin’s movie choice to pay attention to you both. 

“Are you.. sure about this?” You managed to get out, mind going feral over the fact that one of your previous thoughts was actually manifesting itself, nearly chickening out. 

“Mhm, just sit on me.” Taehyung offered casually, his expression unreadable and ultimately making you doubt Jimin’s advice from before, realizing that Taehyung has always been a hard person to read, which is why you could never tell how he felt about you, shutting your trap about damn love confessions. 

You didn’t respond and rather tentatively made it to the take your seat, the seat that was Taehyung’s fucking lap. You placed your ass on his thigh with your legs thrown over him, angling yourself so that the temple of your head rested against his shoulder. 

Though it proved to be lethal in seconds, his cologne now completely flooding your nostrils and the thin skirt of your dress leaving much of your clothed core feeling the muscle of his thigh. 

You felt Taehyung tense underneath for a second as you adjusted the skirt of your dress over your own thighs, smoothing it over properly as your hands then clasped in your own lap. 

Taehyung was glad you didn’t have the ability to read his mind, because the second he realized everyone was naturally pairing up to cuddle with their dates, it would only mean you two would have to do the same. So when you paddled over, standing before him in that cute dress he’s been wanting to tear off you this entire party, he was more than thrilled to offer his lap as your seat. 

But when you actually sat on him, your ass and hints of your core against his thigh with your tempting legs draped over him, he was continuously beginning to think dangerously, salaciously. 

He tried to keep his breathing leveled, though the second he felt you adjust against him and your covered center press onto him, he knew he would never survive whatever fucking movie everyone eventually settled on. 

When it finally began to play, Taehyung snaked his arms around your waist and held you to him, feeling your breath hitch for the tiniest second before you relaxed. 

And it damn well thrilled him. 

The movie was beginning to progress now, Taehyung and yourself in the same comfortable position until you yawned and snuggled more into him, a hand coming up to drape across his chest and head finding shelter closer into his neck. 

Taehyung tensed again, feeling every breath you took with the weight of your smaller body on top of him, mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t keep quiet anymore. 

And especially when you shifted your ass a little against his leg, he twitched with something so much more carnal, blood pumping somewhere it shouldn’t and this time, Taehyung didn’t really feel like holding back anymore. 

His hands suddenly faltered, his palms coming to singularly rest against one of your thighs, clasping it slightly. He knew there was nothing but your leg with only pantyhose as a barrier for your skin, sending currents through his veins thinking you could definitely feel his every touch. 

You nearly jolted when Taehyung’s hands met the meat of your thigh, the placement shooting more arousal through you than it should’ve. 

You were calm until Taehyung suddenly inched his hand towards the inner part of your thigh, making your core clench and hand clutch his sweater to contain the electricity it sent. 

You’ve always had such dirty thoughts about what Taehyung’s hands could do, the slenderness and length of his fingers always revving your imagination. So to have his fingers just on the inside of your thigh, sitting in his lap as he seemed to be teasing, was enough to send your brain spiraling. 

Your scandalous thoughts made you shift against him to experimentally feel the friction, your core grinding against his thigh for a moment and Taehyung’s breath immediately hitched. His grip on you tightened and his hold tensed, had you suppressing the feeling of making a sound. 

He slid more inward, closer to the prize he was seeking and you could only hide your face into the junction of his neck at the way your pussy felt butterflies. It made you squish your thighs together to feel something, and God fuck, was the tension between you two so searing you could feel it radiating off Taehyung’s body. 

It’s what made whispering slowly against him flow easily, quiet so as not to alarm anyone in the living room. 

“I thought you were a good boy, Tae. What are you doing?” Your voice was sultrier than you planned, and it wasn’t chastising him at all, rather teasing for something more. 

You could only feel the rise and fall of Taehyung’s chest underneath you as he contained himself, the cuddling leaving you to feel his every micro-movement when he responded. 

“I thought you were a good girl, what are you doing?” Taehyung’s voice was low and deep, the vibration coursing through your body and it only invited you to become hornier. 

“Guess I’m not a good girl after all.” 

Taehyung made a sound as though scoffing, dangerous in its tone. 

“Guess I’m not a good boy, either.” And just after, Taehyung inched his fingers even closer to your clothed core, making the slightest of contact on your slit through the material of your dress and you practically twitched in his hold, sucking in a breath as you clasped onto the fabric of his shirt. 

“You have no idea..” Taehyung suddenly spoke up, voice laden with something hungry, hot. “what I’ve always thought about doing to you.” 

You could only jolt in his lap, more of his cologne meeting your nose and it caused you to suppress a sound by stuffing your face into his neck. “What.. have you thought about?” 

Taehyung then suddenly cupped your sex over your clothes, making you grapple onto his neck and bite back a moan so hard you had to breathe through your nose. 

“How I want to ruin you.” Taehyung’s low baritone and rough palm rubbing teasingly against your now aching pussy left you gushing, arousal racking the bottom of your stomach you were almost afraid of how easy it was for him. 

Your breath was shallower now, trying to compose yourself by egging him on. “You’d want to ruin an innocent girl like me?”

“I know you’re not innocent, princess.” Taehyung asserted with the slightest growl to his tone, thankful your seat was positioned behind the rest of the others so nobody could see what was going on. 

“Only when it comes to you.” Your seductive voice beckoned lust to course through Taehyung, breathing out hot air. “What else?” You suddenly croaked out. 

Taehyung hummed lowly into your ear, his palm smoothing over your cunt in ways that had you screwing your eyes shut. “How I want to make you beg.” He purposefully pressed harder against your clit, had you scratching into the column of his throat. “Make you scream my name.”   

You gushed your arousal even more, breathless with your words. “I bet you say that to everyone.”

Taehyung chuckled dismissively, dipping his head lower to whisper darkly into your ear. 

“I only say that to pretty little things I want to ruin, and you’re the prettiest little thing I know.” 

Your breath came out in a weighty puff, sighing satisfyingly against him as you snaked your hand from his neck down to the hardening length in his pants. You grazed your palm over his clothes and he twitched almost violently, biting back his hiss with a strong grip against your thigh with his free hand. You grew proud, speaking up when it boosted your ego. 

“I’d love to see you try.” 

And that was when the pads of Taehyung’s fingers pressed into your clothed cunt so euphorically you were seconds from letting out a moan, Taehyung cupping his palm over your mouth to silence you. 

“Shh.” Taehyung sounded by your ear. “Can’t let everyone hear my girl, now can I?” He hushed you huskily, leaving you to sigh your arousal into his large palm and eternally grateful the movie’s volume was loud enough to mask your talking.

Taehyung then began the slowest circular ministrations on your clit, shooting continuous pleasure through your body as you clutched your hand onto his wrist holding your mouth, urgently trying to suppress moans he was easily milking out of you. 

It felt like sparks, continuous sparks in your covered pussy as Taehyung rubbed against your folds, gliding down to your slit and teasing your throbbing hole. 

The mere prospect of his fingers shoving inside you made you wet beyond comprehension, only digging little crescents into his forearm with muted moans. It was sickening how easily he had you turned on, how easily you were getting riled up by just his fingers, and so you mustered the strength to lightly stroke his cock over his pants as revenge.

Taehyung then put pressure against your clenching hole as punishment, shoving your face into his neck when he teased your entrance and squishing his hand between your thighs with his other urging them open. 

“Look at you,” Taehyung growled. “all fucked out just by my fingers.” He whispered darkly into your ear, the vibration of his baritone voice once again sending you into overdrive. “They’re not even inside you yet.” 

The ‘yet’ had you restless, body grinding against him and this time it was Taehyung trying suppress a satisfied groan. 

“If my fingers have you like this, imagine my-” 

“Oh c’mon! That’s not even realistic!” Seokjin suddenly shouted at the screen, startling you and Taehyung. 

“Jin, calm down. It’s just a feel-good Christmas movie.” Yoongi cautioned him. 

“How the fuck does the kid just free the burglar from the cop car? It’s damn common sense.” Seokjin complained about the scene from Christmas with the Kranks, having been unsatisfied with the movie since the beginning. 

“Baby, why’d you choose this movie?” He whined to his girlfriend Sa-Ha, her feigning innocence as she defended herself. 

“It’s almost over, Jinnie. Just sitand watch.” 

And that’s when Taehyung ripped his hands off you, leaving you to breathe out ruggedly for a few seconds before your vision looked up at Taehyung’s, mutually shocked at what the fuck just happened.

You’ve never done something like that before, and as your scared sights looked back at each other, you could only think you were both under some sort of horney trance that swept you two into uncharted waters. 

It made you divert your eyes from Taehyung immediately, your mind going blank. 

Taehyung was left hard and extremely turned on, though began dissipating once he couldn’t fathom he went that far with you so quickly, his brain having been clouded by lust he should’ve kept in check.

And with the way you looked at him, panicked and snapping your vision away in an instant, he doesn’t know if he just made a grave mistake. 

You both became shameful, swallowing dryly as your attentions fixated back onto the screen, thinking about what just transpired. 

There was this incessant feeling in both your chests contemplating there was something more, clearly more between you two. 

And it was downright fearful. 

“Yah, why are you guys leaving so early? C’mon! There’s still half the eggnog left.” Seokjin pouted from across the room, sadly chugging his drink as the others hummed in agreeance. 

“Yeah, c’mon guys. It’s the holidays, let’s all spend it together, sleep over for the fuck of it!” Hoseok chimed in what you could tell was an inebriated state, practically swaying as he talked and the lilt in his tone ever-so cheery. 

“Um, excuse me? Sleep over? Nobody’s doing that.” Jimin shoot him down from where he stood near you and Taehyung, scolding his friends with crossed arms. “If they want to leave they’re allowed, we already made Y/N abandon her Christmas for us.” 

“It’s alright, Jimin. I missed you guys too, I wanted to come.” You offered sentimentally, hand touching his elbow to let him up and he eased. 

“Since you’re officially back in town, we’re never leaving you alone again, Y/N!” Namjoon called out from the living room, engrossed in whatever was playing on the TV. 

“Yup, seriously not going to leave you alone.” Yoongi hummed with half-lidded eyes, near falling asleep on the couch. 

“I still owe you for those math notes, expect me becoming your Genie for a day!” Jungkook called out from the kitchen, most likely munching on the treats everyone crafted during the competition earlier. 

“Of course, I’ll see you guys! Merry Christmas!” 

“Merry Christmas!” Everyone cheered, their dates similarly adding on. 

You then brought your attention back to Jimin, seeing you and Taehyung out as the wonderful host of today’s party. “Thank you for the party, Jimin, it was amazing.” 

“Yeah.” Taehyung perked up next to you, apologetic he was so negligent of the party in the first place. “It was seriously fun, Jimin, I’m sorry I acted like it wasn’t a big deal before.” 

“Nah, don’t sweat it.” Jimin casually waved him off. “Dude, you could text me a Merry Christmas and I’d be alright, you know us.” Jimin smiled reassuringly, right on your toes when Taehyung and yourself stepped into his front foyer.  

You were both fixing on your shoes just before Jimin’s door when he spoke up again. “It was great having you guys, and even better having you, Y/N, come here.” Jimin held out his arms for a warm hug, you returning it merrily. “You’re always welcomed here with us, visit anytime you want.”

“Thanks, Jimin, it really means a lot.” Your grateful eyes found his once you disconnected. 

“We’ll get going now, thank you again, Jimin.” Taehyung for some odd reason placed an arm around your shoulder, pulling you two a little closer and you simply accepted the action, trying not to read into it. 

“Of course.” Jimin replied. “Though one last thing, you remember the theme of this party, right?” Jimin asked you both, you and Taehyung similarly responded with knitted eyebrows. 

“Yeah?” 

“Well look up, lovebirds.” Jimin cocked his head upwards towards the ceiling, casually leaning against the corridor of his entrance when you and Taehyung glanced up, innocently viewing the little mistletoe dangling above your heads, eyes reflecting the realization of what Jimin was conveying. 

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Jimin added with a purposefully hushed, knowing tone. He was just about turning away until he called out in caution. “Oh, careful driving, by the way. I just heard the snow got bad.” And with that, Jimin left nothing but his sweet cologne in the air when he disappeared.

You and Taehyung shuffled about a little, not exactly daring to exchange gazes when the air became all stuffy. 

You were both mutually pondering what the absolute hell to do in this moment. Do you kiss? Do you not kiss? Do you awkwardly try to address what happened earlier after silently agreeing with your dicey body language to never speak of it again? Or hell, do you damn well take Jimin’s advice and just flat out tell him you’ve always had feelings for him? 

Wait. 

Jimin’s advice. 

It came back to you, thinking Jimin was actually extremely wise in what he said. You took to his words into consideration, studying some of the little things Taehyung did around you, from the things he uttered all the way down to the simple way he even looked at you, contemplating something, just something had to be there.

But then maybe, just maybe you could also chalk it up to his naturally flirtatious behaviour you’ve always observed, always habitually affectionate with people and that’s what’s always made him so easily lovable in the first place, what made Taehyung a boy who was born to be loved. 

And he was tricky, his expressions and feelings always indistinguishable with the composed, nuanced way he carried himself especially now, convincing you reading him was a lost cause. 

Though as you glanced at Taehyung right now, visibly nervous, his usually schooled face and unreadable expression now indicating nerves, awkwardness you two have never really experienced between each other before, you decided maybe you should stop making excuses. 

Stop avoiding signs and doubting his every move and burying your feelings so deep underground, that maybe you should just fucking take your leap of faith already. 

So you stepped closer to him, your figure almost laughably smaller compared to him, and watched as his pretty eyes brightened in surprise at you. 

It only took a few seconds, for your lips to curve reassuringly, for your soft hands to cup his face delicately against the edge of his sharp jaw. To get on the tip of your toes and bring your lips to Taehyung’s, pressing a heartfelt kiss to mouth. 

A kiss so very soft and tender, it was like teenagers kissing for the very first time, and it made you giggle on the inside, thinking that’s exactly how your entire ordeal has felt like; your two teenage selves trying to navigate whatever feelings lied between you. 

Taehyung was shocked, having been silently berating himself for being too bold too quickly and thinking his abandonment of chivalry in that instance was wrong, the air between you having been tainted with a sense of unspoken, though apparent awkwardness for the rest of the party. 

But now, now you were kissing him, and for the first time, his insides leaping at just the prospect. It felt like a damn dream, though the press of your mouth against his confirmed it was in fact real, that it was gladly his sweet reality. 

That after years of imagining what it would feel like, he’s kissing the girl he’s loved since the second he saw her hair glow in the rays of the sunset, the minute he realized she wasn’t just pretty, but beautiful to him, the hour he’d witness the moonlight kiss her skin when she stayed up with him on sleepless nights, leading all the way up to the year he realized she’d leave him, so soon, so fucking soon it absolutely crushed him. 

And Taehyung wouldn’t admit it you, but your departure left his heart ravaged for quite possibly years, continuously overthinking how different things would’ve been if he just told you. Told you how he felt, told you that behind every innuendo, behind every hug, every tease, every stupid smile he flashed your way, that there was love behind it all. 

Pure, unadulterated love. 

He regretted it for months, for years thinking he’d truly lost the greatest opportunity in his life having let you go without protest, without fighting for you like he should’ve. 

It hurt, it hurt until he’d eventually grown accustomed to the ache in his heart whenever he saw that same plaid pattern on anyone else, reminded of the jacket you wore to school everyday. The way he found himself subconsciously comparing nearly every girl he dated to you, how on rainy days and quiet nights, he sometimes wondered where you were, what you were doing, if you were awake at this time of night like he usually was, remembering the way the moonlight always seemed to love you, just like he loved you. 

And he still did, Taehyung thought. He still loved you, now feeling your lips kiss him, your adorable height making you tippy-toe, the gentle way you held his face comforting. 

Your lips then disconnected, Taehyung seeing your gaze was warm, something so reminiscent of affection, adoration in your eyes, and he thought in that one, singular moment that maybe, just maybe... 

You loved him too. 

“Fuck, this snow is bad.” Taehyung swore as he gauged any clear path of the road ahead.

“I hate to admit this, but the group was right. It was probably better staying at Jimin’s.” You sighed, worried about the amount of damn white you were seeing blanket the world outside. 

“I thought if we left early we could escape it, but shit, mother nature is always so fickle.” He complained. 

“It’s her charm, unfortunately.” You shrugged, realizing there was truly no way for you to get home now. “It’s early too, the snow ploughs won’t clear the roads just yet.” There was suddenly a concerned lilt to your tone as you peered ahead, gripping Taehyung’s arm and it grabbed his attention. “It’s getting dangerous too, Tae. I don’t want you driving in this.” 

Taehyung was glad he had the gifted ability of hiding his emotions, because right now he would’ve been embarrassingly over the moon. He smiled back to you reassuringly, then contemplated an alternative.

“Would you.. rather come to my place?” Taehyung inquired, biting his lip once he realized he stupidly stuttered. 

You blinked. “What?” 

“Well, my place is much closer, and it’d be less dangerous driving there. You can just stay until they clear the roads.” Taehyung relayed casually, expectant eyes on you as his hands tapped against the steering wheel. 

Your face slowly turned into an appreciative smile, taken aback by his act of kindness, but also felt something exciting tickle the bottom of your stomach. 

“Sure, I’d love that.” 

Taehyung shut the door of his apartment as you removed your boots, shredding stray snowflakes off his jacket when he spotted similar ones on yours, his hands naturally jutting out to rid the tiny icicles off you. 

You turned around at his touch, thanking him and he smiled a welcome back. He’d taken your jacket just like before and tucked them away into his closet, gesturing towards his living room for you to get comfortable. 

“Make yourself at home, do you want water or anything?” 

“Yeah, actually. Water would be nice.” Taehyung nodded as he made for his kitchen, you tucking the skirt of your dress underneath you as you took your humble seat on his couch. 

His home was so painfully Taehyung, it had you smiling like an idiot he was still the same. The same introspective Taehyung who adored art and photography, the same Taehyung who absolutely hated shoes and you could tell just by the way he abandoned them earlier he still had the same habit. Even to the way his house reflected this artistic, calming, and nuanced feeling he similarly had.

It drew you to admire some of the pieces draping his walls, when Taehyung returned with a glass of water, handing it to you as he plopped down on the couch. “Here.” 

“Thank you.” You took the glass, gulping down some of the liquid for your parched throat. 

“Your apartment is nice.” 

“Thanks.”

You then both sat in silence for a short while, tapping the edge of the glass in your hand as you scanned the rest of his charming home. The silence wasn’t awkward considering the past events of today, just a silence in its definition. 

“I still can’t believe I ran into you at a coffee shop.” Taehyung suddenly remarked, looking off at his table in front with a smile tugging his lips. 

You chuckled. “Why? Too meet-cute for you?” 

“No.” He chuckled too. “It’s just, I really thought it was the end when you left after graduation.” Taehyung paused for a poignant moment, air heavy with something as you watched him muster the courage to say something else. 

“I thought I’d never see you again.” 

He claimed it with such a sense of sadness, sense of longing that reminded you of how upset you also were that day, the rampant emotions that came crashing down realizing you were leaving behind an entire life. 

“Me too.” You added with a similarly downcast tone. “I thought I’d never see you again, either.” 

Taehyung then looked at you, eyes meeting your gaze. “I’m glad that wasn’t true.” Something lingered behind his words, something incredibly thick and telling, though you deflected it with a joke to lighten the air. 

“I’m glad you didn’t delete my PowerPoints, either.” You snickered, hand coming up to cover your mouth, “I used to put a lot of work into them.”

Taehyung scoffed playfully, smiling through a chuckle as he responded. “I didn’t have the heart to. You were so passionate about your hatred for fruit on pizza.” 

“I still am.” You added. “Do you really have them?” 

“Yeah, I do. Let me show you.” Taehyung then pulled out his phone from his pocket, clicking away on the device as he scooted closer to you and leaned in, you similarly doing so and peering at a Google Drive folder of your wonderfully crafted presentations.

“Oh my God, I thought you were joking.” You snorted, snickering at the hilarious folder name; ‘Y/N says Fuck Hawaiian Pizza: the Saga’

“Nope, couldn’t delete them even if I was dared to.” Taehyung laughed with you, both of your eyes naturally falling as he shut off his phone, the conversation shifting. 

“You know, I never actually hated it that much.” You admitted sheepishly. “I just liked annoying you and wasting 5 minutes of your day with every presentation.” 

Taehyung looked scandalized at first, mouth falling agape until he ultimately let it go, admitting something of his own. “You know, I never actually needed your history notes. I just liked being annoying about stealing them so you always had to chase me down.” Taehyung’s smile was suddenly impish, shy as he fixated on fiddling with his slender fingers. 

“After all that running I always did after you too? Jheez, you’re the reason I have strong calves now.” 

“And you’re the reason I’m really good at presentations now.” You both chuckled together, the old days coming back in bouts until your mood changed, remembering Jimin’s advice from earlier. 

As you looked at Taehyung, while he didn’t look at you, you could only help but find every reason in the world to listen to Jimin. Because Taehyung was Taehyung, he was the Taehyung that stole your heart with his boxy grin, the Taehyung who made every other man seem like an unappealing idiot you wanted nothing to do with, the same Taehyung who’s heart was made of love, and you wanted nothing but to return to him the love he gifted the world.

Because you loved Taehyung, no matter how much you’ll try to deny it, you still love him. All his smiles and giggles and soft hair and his sometimes coltish, though endearing ways of being himself. All his hard expressions and intimidating eyes and handsome looks and the way he holds a universe of stars in his old soul.  

So your next words flowed, flowed more fluently than anything ever has in your life. 

“You know,” You paused, eyes faltering to the glass in your hand. “I think, for the majority of high school... I had a crush on you, but I never said anything because I thought you wouldn’t want me.” 

And there came the silence, the piercing, God awful silence you were so afraid of and so sure was spelling your doom. You didn’t dare look up from your glass now, downright terrified he was probably pulling the most confused face ever, and his silence was deafening. It had you contemplating the best way to jump out his window, he was only, what, 14 stories up? A human can survive a fall that high, right? 

“You wanna know something?” Taehyung suddenly broke the silence, his deep, dulcet voice sounding beautifully in his apartment, and your eyes widened the second he opened his mouth next. 

“I think I was in love with you for the majority of high school, but I didn’t say anything because I thought you never felt the same way.” And that’s when everything clicked, when your eyes widened in revelation, when it suddenly felt like the 6 years you spent battling your feelings for him was nothing but a sad joke. 

Because this moment, alone, made you realize you two had the same hearts all along. 

“You wanna know something?” You swallowed hard, eyes still on your glass as it shifted in your hand mindlessly. “I think... I’m still in love with you.” 

You couldn’t see Taehyung, because you didn’t dare look at him at a time like this. You just sat there, breathing as leveled as you could until you felt Taehyung shift on the couch. He’d moved closer, closing the small gap between you both, beckoning you to finally look at him and that’s exactly what you did. 

He spoke low, deep and low and it had your toes curling at just how proximal he was, his beautiful eyes gazing at you like you meant the universe and more to him. 

And little did you know, you really did. 

“I think..” He started, gripping the glass of water from your hands and placing it onto his coffee table. “I’m still in love with you, too.” 

And your heart was set ablaze in a matter of seconds, your tentative eyes finding Taehyung’s as he leaned in, large palms on either side of your body as he inched closer, closer, and closer, until all he could see were your lips, jutting his face forward until his lips just brushed yours. 

You chased his mouth a little, fluttering your eyes shut and Taehyung couldn’t help but smile before finally, finally pressing his lips to yours. 

His mouth kissed you slow at first, slow and steady and it was intoxicating just like this. He constantly chased your lips, mouthing at them sensually and it was driving you insane, just the taste of his lips with a hint of wine on his breath shooting electricity to your core. 

His hands moved to your sides, wrapping around your rib cage as he leaned you back onto the couch and laid on top of you. His body covered you as far as you could see, your dainty hands coming up to find his jawline and pull him against your lips fervently.

He slowly grew more passionate, smoothing over your sides as he mouthed for more of you, swallowing the little moans you made that vibrated through his body and it only revved is engine more. 

Taehyung was taken, completely taken by how much he wanted you that he could only see you, could only think about all the dirty but soft and tender and passionate things he wanted to do to you. 

One of his hands travelled underneath your thigh, pulling your leg up against him as he pressed his hips into your core, his hardening cock prodding you through his clothes once he started a gentle rocking motion. 

Your hands travelled up his beautiful neck and tangled into his hair as you reciprocated. A slight tug left him groaning into your mouth, causing you to buck up into him harshly and it sent Taehyung’s mind into a dangerous place. 

His breathing elevated against you, gripping your ribs so urgently it only made you pull him closer, arch your chest into his just so you could relish in the feeling. Your heart was thrumming in your chest, veins coursing with adrenaline so white hot it wasn’t long before you were moving desperately with Taehyung and it fueled your horny nerves.

Taehyung suddenly disconnected his mouth from you, breathing so shallow his chest was rising and falling fast. He was only centimeters above as he looked down at you, his eyes boring into yours with such a prominent sense of longing, want, pure desire, it took him no time to speak. 

“Do you know how long..” He took a breath. “I’ve wanted to do that?” 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you to do that?” You replied, hands now smoothing over his shoulders to feel him, his body raging hot as he laid on top of you, looking at you like you were the only thing he ever wanted. 

“Fuck, we’re so stupid.” Taehyung quickly said before his mouth crashed onto yours. This time there was something carnal in his kiss, something urgent and hot and it only made you pull him closer for more. 

His tongue began to lick over your lips, slithering inside your mouth and the taste of him was euphoric, making you tangle your tongue with his just to taste him over and over again, until it was safe to say your tongues were down each other’s throats. 

He kissed you sloppily, kissed until he was consuming you, his fingers digging into your thigh and side so fervently you knew there’d be marks, and it made your spine shiver, even more so when he spoke again. 

“The minute.. I saw you in that dress..” He breathed out, kissing in between the exhaustion of his lungs. “I wanted to rip it off you.” 

You groaned desperately at his confession, wanting Taehyung in ways that were so utterly carnal, almost feral, your entire being wanting to consume every inch of him, lay a million kisses across his honey-coloured skin and hear his caramel voice whisper into your ear, and so it didn’t take long for you to voice your desire. 

“Taehyung..” You sighed, a satisfied lilt to your tone and it only lit Taehyung on fire. 

“Mm?” He hummed, licking into your mouth on a quest for everything inside, his hips now grinding into your clothed cunt so harshly he was practically dry humping you, and without a second thought you were moving yourself against him too, hands exploring his broad chest. 

“Taehyung..” You were more urgent, and it made Taehyung grunt harshly. “Rip it off me, Tae, unwrap me like you said you would.” You started harshly tugging at his offensive shirt, tracing the column of his throat as you relished in his delicious kisses. 

And it all made Taehyung move so much harder, so much more roughly you were moaning into his mouth at the press of his hard, long cock against your aching core. 

“Ruin me, Taehyung.” You scratched your nails against his neck, swallowing him into your mouth as you talked. “I want you to ruin me.” 

“Fuck,” Taehyung swore, his length beginning to prod you so much more apparently as you bucked your hips up into him, it was sending Taehyung down the proverbial hole. And when you let out another gorgeous moan of his name, he knew he was a goner. 

“Fuck, I can’t do this anymore.” 

Taehyung then harshly grabbed your wrists and forced them against the couch in a single motion, eyes growing dark with heat radiating of his body in waves. He darted to the underside of your jaw and kissed hard, began mouthing at your skin until he travelled to the junction of your neck, sucking over the sensitive skin so rampantly it had you squirming underneath him, desperately trying to feel him against your core. 

His pretty purple marks began blooming onto your neck, evidence of his raw desire for you, the years he spent longing for you. His teeth were nipping your skin, tongue licking over the bites as he pressed your wrists further into the couch the more you resisted. 

You breath hitched when he moved to the slightly exposed valley of your breasts, making your nipples harden at just the prospect of his mouth travelling there. You began fighting his hold, causing you to arch into him as something dawned on you. 

“Taehyung.. your shirt.” You whined, trying to manage the pleasure of his mouth canvasing your skin. 

Taehyung left you for a mere second to shred off the annoying piece of clothing, tossing it aside as he returned to you urgently, your legs hooking around his torso as he came back to you. 

His mouth was sucking hickeys onto your chest again when his hands began to smooth down your sides, so sensually purposeful until he reached underneath the hem of your dress, hooking onto the waistline of your pantyhose and panties, tugging teasingly. 

Your core ignited at just his touch against bare skin, gushing as your hips harshly grinded against his body and your hands smoothed over the lean muscle of his body. 

He yanked the pieces of clothing down the curve of your ass, proceeding to pull them past your thighs as you unhooked your legs to help take them off you. 

The rush of the cold against your wet pussy lips made your breath hitch beautifully, one of Taehyung’s hands moving your skirt to let his large, warm palm cup your sex so pleasurably the contrast of the size of his hand and your little cunt sent you both ablaze. 

“You’re so small, think you can take me, good girl?” Taehyung breathed against your chest. “I’ll fuck up your insides.” His baritone voice was dark and low as he warned you, sent arousal spiking through your nerves as you groaned. 

“Fuck up my insides, Tae.” You desperately moaned out, hands finding Taehyung’s hair as he continued to lay searing kisses to your hot skin, his fingers rubbing your dripping folds harshly. “I just.. I need you, Taehyung, so fucking badly.” 

“Say it again.” Taehyung hissed, exposing one of your bare breasts from your dress and pressing his tongue against a perched nipple, the wet sensation so satisfying you were scratching his shoulder blades. 

“I-I need you, Taehyung.” 

“Need me where?” He growled as he pressed against your clit and circled it, collecting your slick and spreading it all over yourself. 

And it was hard, so fucking hard to think straight with your bare, soaking wet pussy was rubbing against Taehyung’s rough fingers and his lips sucking your exposed nipple for dear life, the pleasure burning inside you so hot your voice was coming out in choked moans. 

“Need you inside, Taehyung.” You gasped out. “So empty without you, so fucking empty, for so long.” 

“God, fuck.” Taehyung groaned proudly, popping off your breast to look at your half-lidded eyes, his own blown out with his hair mussed and lips swollen pink. He returned to your lips again as his hands simultaneously hooked underneath your thighs and suddenly lifted you off the couch, your legs secured around his torso as he walked you into what you assumed was his bedroom. 

Your core rubbed against the buckle of Taehyung’s belt as he walked and you gushed oceans, the cool metal providing such delicious friction you were moaning satisfyingly into Taehyung’s mouth, grinding against him for more. 

His kiss was fervent even when he splayed you onto his covers, back hitting the bed as you stroked your hands over his beautiful bare chest. 

Taehyung suddenly came off you, eyes going wild as he looked down at your panting figure underneath him, then your offensive dress. 

“Fuck this thing.” Taehyung nearly ripped it from your body, shredding the pretty fabric off and simply basked in the glory of seeing your naked body for the very first time. 

Taehyung’s eyes filled with pure wonder, the moonlight and reflection of white snow falling outside adding a glow to your skin he couldn’t help but marvel at, your curves so beautiful he wanted to run his hands all over, the purple of his marks left on you only making him blossom with more arousal, more passion. 

“Holy shit, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Taehyung’s face was so blown away, you couldn’t help but grow a little shy, bringing him close to you by his neck so you could breathe into his ear. 

“Good, I hear you ruin them.” 

Taehyung could only smirk, rolling his tongue on the inside of his cheek, cock twitching at just your words. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” 

Taehyung trailed one hand down your body, momentarily wrapping it around your throat until it was gliding over your nipple and down to your core, lining the lips of your pussy so teasingly you were reeling. 

The pads of his fingers smoothed over your pussy lips again, applying pressure to your clit that had you lurching, until he used the opportunity to slide two fingers into your aching hole with ease. 

“You’re so fucking wet, dripping all over my fingers.” He growled into your ear as he laid himself on top of you, his free hand holding your face while the other worked your core. 

The sharpness of his long, slender fingers were euphoric, causing you to moan loudly. You could see his hard dick pressing against the fabric of his slacks almost painfully, and you jutted your hand out to begin palming him generously. 

Taehyung could finally hiss as loud as he wanted, screwing his eyes shut in sheer pleasure. 

He began pumping you faster in response, sliding in and out so deliciously you were moaning incessantly against his mouth as he began kissing you again. Your breasts were pressing into Taehyung’s bare chest the more you arched yourself, closing the offensive gap between you both and the skin to skin contact sending you both to cloud nine. 

“Taehyung..” You moaned in between kisses, so shameless about your desire for him you only wanted to know his name. 

“Taehyung.” 

“Fucking hell, that does shit to me.” Taehyung began thrusting harshly into your hole now as punishment, practically finger-fucking you against his bed till it made your walls clamp down on him, trap his slender fingers inside so you could feel every heavenly inch of them.

You became hungry for more, your hand grabbing at Taehyung’s straining cock harder and the strangled groan that left his lips was so fucking beautiful, your insides were screaming. 

“Shit, Taehyung,” You moaned out breathlessly. “You’re so hot like this, so fucking hot. Fuck me, fuck me like you said you would. ” 

Taehyung’s breaths turned heavy and hungry, his cock aching to be inside you so painfully he was going insane at your every word. 

“Fuck. I’m fucking you into next week. I’m fucking you until you only know my name. Fucking you until you know how badly I’ve wanted you, until your legs are shaking and you feel me in your throat.” 

“Then do it.” You nearly cried out, hands fumbling with the waistband of Taehyung’s pants. Your pussy was aching so excruciatingly around Taehyung’s fingers your slick was gushing from you, all over him and it only made Taehyung feral thinking about what would happen if it were his dick instead. 

“Fucking do it, Taehyung, fuck me until I’m shaking.” 

Taehyung flipped his switch and suddenly shoved his fingers so deep inside you, scissoring you completely open it made you lurch up in searing pleasure. His large palm grabbed underneath your head and positioned you upwards, able to angle his fingers so he could smash them inside you so harshly it was pathetic it wasn’t even his dick that had you high, but just his fingers. 

“Holy fuck, Taehyung!” 

“Cum all over my fingers, pretty. I wanna hear you.” Taehyung growled into your ear, couldn’t help but think about your walls convulsing around his dick and it was euphoric hearing you moan, all fucked out underneath him. 

He couldn’t stop finger-fucking you like his life depended on it, wanted to fill you up in so many ways you’d remember him for weeks. 

You were almost there, the edge so close. It was racking the bottom of your stomach, had your toes curling and walls pounding so snug around Taehyung’s fingers you could only latch onto the nape of his neck for dear life. 

You felt it, felt it so near and had his name leaving your mouth in such an intoxicating mantra you were seconds from letting go. Seconds, milliseconds, just about to release your impending orgasm until Taehyung ripped his fingers out of you. 

You gasped scandalously at the loss, body buzzing with your unachieved high it made your exclaim come out in a garbled protest.  “Taehyung, what the fuck?!” 

You tried getting an answer, but Taehyung’s hungry, half-lidded eyes shut you up immediately, watching him lick his fingers like he was starved, like this was the sweetest honey he’s ever tasted. 

“Fuck, you taste as sweet as you look.” Taehyung’s grin was evil, and it made you turned on but pissed he denied your orgasms. 

“You’re so-” You attempted to get out, but Taehyung suddenly flipped you onto all fours in a second, your hands and knees anchored onto the bed with only your shocked figure confused. 

“T-Taehyung, what are you-” You then sighed at the sudden touch of his tongue meeting your weeping hole in a devilish swipe. It was intoxicating, feeling his wet muscle begin licking into your core and tasting your soaked folds from behind. 

“I’m doing what you asked..” His voice was dark and weighty, and that’s when you suddenly felt another sensation of his two fingers returning to your throbbing entrance. Your insides buzzed when he spoke against your core, grittier than he ever has all night. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.” 

And his tongue suddenly slithered into your hole when he removed his fingers, licking into your entrance in a harsh rhythm as his palms began grabbing at your ass, kneading the meaty flesh as he straight up devoured your pussy like it was the only thing he’s wanted his entire life. 

His tongue was lapping you fervently, so starved your dissipated orgasm was coming back again. You were winded, having never been eaten out like this and you were moaning his name loud enough to get noise complaints filed to the police. 

“Taehyung!” You cried out, though he didn’t let up. Instead he brought one of his hands to your pulsing clit, circling and applying so much necessary pressure you were losing your mind, insane off the fact he hadn’t even filled you up with his cock yet and you were pathetic underneath him. 

“Fucking God, Taehyung, Tae!” And when he groaned so audibly into your pussy, rutting himself against the bed for friction it sent you flying, soaring into the sky and losing all coherent thought as your orgasm bubbled in your stomach, his husky voice grounding you to Earth. 

“Cum for me, baby, now.” And that was all it took to have you lurching over the edge, releasing your pent up orgasm so violently you were nearly screaming, Taehyung’s name the only distinguishable thing rolling off your tongue. 

He licked up your juices like they were fresh water, helping you ride out your euphoric orgasm and allowing yourself a moment to rest. You breathed, falling onto the bed in exhaustion, trying to quell the blood pumping in your ears when Taehyung suddenly pulled you back onto your hands and knees, cautioning you darkly when he spoke. 

“You thought we were done?” It was evil, he was evil, the way his voice sounded like the epitome of a smirk as you tried catching your breath. Taehyung’s lips then suddenly ghosted the shell of your ear as he wrapped an arm around your torso, pressing his chest to your back as he spoke. 

“I haven’t even done anything yet.” 

And again, it was the ‘yet’ that had you groaning out in frustration but in the best possible ways. How wasn’t this already enough? How did he have you so fucked out just by the sheer power of his fingers and tongue? It was sickening, he was sickening and you found yourself throwing your ass back on him to urge his cock into you already, to just fuck you open with all he had. 

“Taehyung, just-fuck! Fuck me, please.” You were pleading, needing to feel the wreckage of what you could tell was the biggest cock you’ll ever take.  

Taehyung had removed his pants and boxers in the moment, freeing his painfully angry cock from it’s confines. You were faltering from your position again when Taehyung suddenly prodded your abused hole with his engorged tip, you shuddering to life harshly. 

“Taehyung, just-” 

“Beg me.” 

You cried out in immediate desperation, his voice so authoritative it was sending you into submission, clutching the covers under you so hard your knuckles were white as you complied. “Taehyung, please, fuck me. I need you, please.” 

Taehyung’s arm was snug around your torso, feeling your every quaking expire in his hold and it was turning him on so agonizingly this was painful even for himself, but the way your sweet voice begged him was absolutely exhilarating.

“More.” 

“Taehyung, if you don’t fucking-!” You were cut off by the sharp impalement of Taehyung’s cock in a single breath, knocking all forms of wind out of you. The head alone was so large you went hurtling into the mattress, almost losing your shaking arms’ support until Taehyung pulled you back up for him, snaking his one hand that was previously around his cock to your breast while the other gripped at your hip. 

He was slowly sinking in, feeling your walls flutter open for him and the satisfied moan that left his mouth was evidence of how much this was affecting him. 

“Fuck...” Taehyung dragged out completely content, digging into your hip to watch you arch your back for him, on his knees as he filled you up from behind. “You’re so fucking tight and wet, holy shit.” 

You were struggling for air, oxygen leaving your lungs trying to accommodate for his monstrous size. It was unfair, so unfair he was so big and it had you praising him immediately, so full and stuffed it was the most pleasurable thing you’ve experienced all your life. 

“You’re so big, oh my God, Taehyung, so big.” One of your hands shot towards his holding you by your hip, interlacing your fingers together against your skin just to ground yourself, to manage the sharp pierce of his length until it simmered into a pleasurable burn. 

He bottomed out into your cervix and you both grunted loud, Taehyung containing himself just so he could feel your velvet walls palpitate around his throbbing dick. “Do you feel how hard I am, Y/N? Do you fucking feel it?” 

“Yes, God fuck! Tae, yes..” You sighed out, eyes watering at just how much pleasure was already raking your abdomen again. 

“That’s what you do to me, you barely touched me and this is how hard I am. How fucking badly I want you, how much I’ve always wanted you, wanted you since day one.” Taehyung’s voice was sincere and desperate, seemingly trying to counter your confession of your feelings from earlier.

“Show me, Taehyung.” You moaned, hands gripping his more affectionately, more desperately as you weakly held yourself up by the other. “Fuck me and show me how much you want me.” 

Taehyung grunted out harshly, pulling his cock out of you until he thrusted back in. The first thrust had you keening, sending you into the mattress only to have Taehyung pull you back up once again. Then the second came, your walls greedily soaking him into you and it felt perfect, like two puzzle pieces meant to connect with each other. 

Then came the third, the fourth, the fifth, all the way until Taehyung was pounding into you from behind with a drag so delicious you were moaning out more than you ever have in your entire life. 

And it was sickening, utterly sickening the way his dick began fucking you into the mattress so roughly, angling your body in ways for his cock to pump into all the right places with the right amount of pressure. He watched himself disappear into your little cunt repeatedly, holding your hip up to encourage you to arch so low your ass was snug against his pelvis, and couldn’t think of anything more fucking perfect. 

“You take me so well, so fucking well.” Taehyung praised, leaning over to aimlessly lay wet kisses up your spine like the demon he was, shoving himself into you over and over and over again with your walls convulsing around him.

You were trapping him inside you so tight he could spill into you in seconds, though held back determined he was making you cum again.

“So full, Taehyung, so deep.. all I feel is you.” The statement left you with a desperate sigh, your head hanging low until Taehyung’s hand kneading your breast suddenly wrapped around your throat, causing you to gasp at the arousing feeling. He pulled your head upwards, the junction between his long index finger and thumb forcing you to look forward, and you were utterly breathless at the scene.

His lips were near your ear in seconds, speaking like the devil incarnate as he was bent over you. “Look at us, look at yourself, so fucking pretty, so perfect.” You could suddenly see the reflection of Taehyung fucking into you from behind in his window, not even knowing tears had streamed down your face as his hand beautifully encased your throat, causing every nerve in your body to alight with fire. 

“Look at the way I fuck you, how much I love you.” Taehyung’s carnal eyes looked at you through the reflection of the window, heart twinging at the sight of you crying but knowing he’s making you feel good, continuing his onslaught of drilling your battered pussy. 

You moaned at the erotic scene, using every ounce of strength to keep yourself upright, your walls pulsing around Taehyung’s length as he thrusted harder and harder.

“Tae, fuck! I’ve always loved you, I always felt the same way, and I still do-ah!” Your lungs were tapping out when he suddenly shoved himself inside you to the brim, so utterly deep before he was thrusting again harshly, strangling out moans. 

Clear sweat was slick between your bodies, his huge, delicious cock incessantly tearing up your insides and all you could do was chant his name in pleasure, in bliss, in your love for him that was burning so bright it was nearly painful. 

“Y/N.. fuck. You’re ruining me. You’re so perfect, we’re so fucking perfect.” Taehyung was rambling at this point as his speed reflected his desperation, his immeasurable feelings for you. 

He was trying his damn hardest to distract himself from the release aching his balls. He was growing weak himself, feeling you reciprocate his rough thrusts by fucking him back the same way. And the image in the window? Had him reeling, needing to hear the most beautiful sound you’d make when you finally came, and he knew you would, bordering the precipice with the way your walls pulsed around him. 

Watching Taehyung fuck you in the window was now downright sinful to you, his harsh thrusts completely blissful and his hand gently squeezing at your throat was so dominant, so hot you were at your limit and ready to come. 

But what ended up sending you over, pushing you to release the tightening knot in your stomach was the sweet, tender way Taehyung began kissing your neck. 

The contrast between his cock abusing you and his plush lips kissing you so gently, so lovingly, it wasn’t long before you realized his fucking wasn’t just hard or rough, but full of sheer want, desire, love in all the right ways your walls were clenching around him rapidly in seconds. 

And when Taehyung angled himself somehow deeper, in that one, perfect spot, you clamped down and finally came so hard you saw stars, knew you’d completely drenched his cock with the loudest release of his name you were glad it was the only word you knew in this moment. 

“That’s it, baby. Just like that.” Taehyung breathed out in exhaustion, began soothing your abdomen with one hand and the other letting your head finally hang, grip loosened from around your throat and you could finally allow air back into your lungs. 

You were heaving when you spoke up, realizing something. “Inside me.. Taehyung.” You were dreary, utterly gone, but it still didn’t distract you from the blissful feeling of Taehyung’s cock deliciously stuffed and throbbing inside you, trying to coax his rightful release. “Cum inside me, Tae. Please, fill me up.” 

Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice when his cock worked a few more rough strokes into your tightened pussy and finally, finally came inside you. It was laced with a satisfied groan of your name, his grip on your side so intense you’d be glad if he left marks, wanting to remember every last bit of this night with Taehyung. 

He painted you completely white inside, spilling everything he could offer into you, using what little strength he had left to hold you up while he continued to empty his seed inside. Taehyung then lost all function and allowed you to fall, his broad body resting on top of yours as you both hit the mattress. 

Your chests rose and fell shallowly, completely taxed and having lost every ounce of strength. Taehyung’s hot breaths for air were fanning your neck, your arms sprawled out before you as Taehyung’s hands mindlessly interlaced with them against the tousled covers, cock still stuffing you whole. 

It was another moment of breathing and regaining oxygen when Taehyung suddenly kissed the side of your neck, giving your hands a small squeeze before you felt him lifting himself, his warmth disappearing and you panicked. 

“Where are you going?” Your throat was hoarse from screaming and moaning, a tinge of sadness to your tone as though he was leaving you, and Taehyung couldn’t help but find it endearing. 

“It’s okay, I’ll be right back.” He smiled, moving your hair from the side of your face to plant a kiss to your cheek, post-sex haze racking his brain though allowing reality to leak back into his mind. 

He then carefully, slowly pulled himself out of you, you whining at the loss of him and Taehyung smiled to himself in contentment, smoothing over your lower back with a palm in gratitude, before stepping towards his bathroom. 

He’d pulled his boxers back on and returned with a damp cloth, finding you still flipped and laying on your stomach, having dozed off in exhaustion until you felt Taehyung’s warmth and heard his dulcet voice hazing you awake. 

“Y/N, turn over for me.” His voice was hushed and tender, you complying by turning onto your back with his help. He then carefully swept the cloth against your battered core, you wincing a little with sensitivity and Taehyung made sure to clean more gently. 

The cloth was thrown back into his bathroom when he turned back to you, an arm thrown over your tear-stained face and the other clutching your body, clearly shivering in the cold now.

Taehyung easily scooped you into his arms and lifted you off the bed, carrying you over to his pillows and delicately placing you upon his duvet, pulling the covers out from underneath you and tucking you into his bed. 

You curled up into his blanket, Taehyung searching through his drawers for a stray t-shirt you could wear. He then lifted you into a sitting position, your eyes evidently sleepy and body limp as he pulled the shirt onto you, letting you fall back in place. 

Taehyung could only chuckle to himself thinking he did mean to ruin you, but not so harshly you were devoid of consciousness. He placed a little kiss to your forehead in apology, wiping some of the tears off your face before he rounded the bed, crawling in next to you.

His arms reached out to pull your back snug against his chest, feeling the sleep in the back of his eyes take him. He basked in the strawberry scent of your hair, completely gratified until you suddenly turned over towards him. 

His eyes shot open, only the top of your head coming into view as you nuzzled into his warm chest, your small self all tucked into Taehyung as he wrapped his arms around you like a safety net, holding you near.

And in that moment, all he could focus on was your light breathing, the sweet sound of your voice as you suddenly spoke in the dark of the night, moonlight glowing upon your entangled bodies. 

“I love you, Taehyung.” 

He grinned, the kind where he felt relieved, fulfilled, in a state of sheer bliss it was a moment before he replied, his own voice calm as you felt the hum through his chest, his hand tangled in your hair. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

The morning sun bled into Taehyung’s room, your eyes fluttering open at a time you had no concept of. You stirred, finding yourself still in Taehyung’s arm, in relatively the same position from last night. You didn’t even feel like moving from his hold, the feeling so utterly fuzzy and comforting. 

You basked in the sensation until he began to stir next to you, pretty eyelashes batting as his eyes fluttered open. His sights fell to you, eyes adorably taken by sleep while his soft hair was endearingly mussed by his pillow. You smiled at him warmly as he grinned back.

“Good morning.” you said shyly, nearly hiding underneath his covers. 

“Good morning.” 

You then flopped onto your back peering up at the ceiling, last night coming back to you in dream-like flashes you were surprised was somehow your reality. 

It was just miraculous, utterly unbelievable until Taehyung turning into your side and snuggling his face into your neck was evidence everything was real, that he was real. It wasn’t some remnant of a dream or hallucination, but the real Taehyung as his arm draped over your stomach. 

You had to bite your lip to contain your happiness, utter exuberance the universe had somehow finally paired you and him together, and funnily enough, on Christmas of all days. 

“What are you thinking about, princess?” Taehyung hummed into your collarbone inquisitively, half asleep as he cuddled you. 

You smiled, basking in his comfort. “Merry Christmas, Taehyung.” 

Taehyung chuckled against you, arm pulling you closer to him as he kissed your neck. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.” 

“Can you believe we met each other again during Christmas? It’s like the perfect Christmas miracle.” You marveled in wonder, tracing your finger along Taehyung’s pretty hand on your stomach. 

“I mean, you know what Andy Williams said..” He mused next to you, husky voice laden with sleep. “It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”

[lanterne]

is it me projecting or does collot sound kind of insecure as an actor?

The very first mention, if we refer to a chronological order, comes from Collot d'Herbois himself when he evokes to Desroziers, in July 1772, the reception which was reserved for him in Bordeaux, "the successes which [he] enjoyed constantly in this city […]”. He even writes: “They say that I am not a bad actor [...] they think I do well. » 

“they think i do well :)))))”

The public voice [...] has been able to inform you of our successes, they have been beyond my hopes and never have mediocre talents received more honor. It reassured me about myself, and my self-esteem breathed [...] Our troupe is quite nice [...] and the spectators are always happy.

brooo

I had good success in all the towns we visited, although I always appeared after actors whose memory was dear to the public [...].

maybe he’s being reasonably self critical but i always imagined him as having a big ego, and comparing his own judgement with the reviews he got (which were Really good and complementary), i wasn't expecting this at all

[stossgebet-und-dominum]

bestie we need more professor tobirama 😩 when tobirama accidentally heard reader talked about how great other professor is and tobirama got so jealous and asked you to come to his place just so he could make u regret what u said earlier 😩😩😩

i'm not even the biggest tobirama fan but i'm loving writing it omg

nsfw. rough sex, creampie, dumbification, doggy style.

"i heard you praising madara. 'the best professor ever', you said", tobirama says casually. and you understand why he is so cranky this week—making you answer difficult questions in front of your class, being even more judgemental about your new project. just because of an innocent praise you gave to the other professor? you were not trying to flirt with him or something—the thing is that he gave you that look and you couldn't help talking about it with your friends. and, somehow, tobirama got to know about the situation. "jealous, uh?", you chuckle, rolling your hips against his evident bulge. for the first time ever, he called you to his place and there you are, each leg around his waist and sitting like a good girl. "i did say that", you say as he doesn't respond you. "but look, i wasn't flirting with him or something. i just liked the way the taught OOP to the newbies. i wish i had a professor like him in my beginner years", you continue, mostly talking to yourself than talking to him. tobirama seems to be focused on something else inside his mind. maybe thinking of ways to remember you're his only? you smile. "are you gonna punish me for this, sir?", his hands go to your tits, pressing them under your tee shirt. you mewl, surprised, but press yourself against his cock harder. "you were trying to seduce him, that's what hoes do, isn't it?", he mumbles, helping you to rub your cunt faster against the fabric of his pants. your own shorts are uncomfortable and you stop for a moment, red cheeks and a devilish smirk on your lips. "can i take it off?", you ask. he nods, a suspicious move. that's not him—tobirama would make you be all on fours and take your shorts by his own, moments before pushing your panties to the side and burying his cock into your wet cunt. you ignore it for a moment, taking the shorts off. you go back to his lap and he suddenly smack you ass loudly. you laugh, your skin burning. "what did i do, professor?", he looks at you and tells you to turn around. you do, and his hand hit you ass once more. you look back, smiling. "i'm starting to think you don't like seeing my face. do you know if madara is such a jerk like—?", tobirama interrupts you before you can finish you stubborn sentence. "shut up", he pulls your hips against him, making your wetness hit his cock just right. you receive another slap, your flesh jiggling. he gladly watches it, and uses your own hands to cup your boobs and squeeze them. "what are you—", you can't finish. two of his fingers enter your mouth and you instantly suck them. "shut up. you talk too much—all you need to do is to let your best professor, me, fuck your pretty cunt." you obey, a shiver going down your spine as his other hand goes to your panties. and there it is—pushing them to the side, fingers enter your core in a second and you gasp, almost choking on his tips touching your throat. "why don't you say i am the best professor, pretty whore? does madara fucks you between a class and another?" you don't fall on his traps. you keep silent as he fucks you and keep you quiet, tongue curling around him. "bend over and keep that ass up", tobirama commands. you do as he says, way happier than he could ever bet. you look back and smile at him, his cranky expression making it even funnier. your face is red, lips are all wet of your saliva and his fingers in and out your mouth are just perfect. his cock is harder suddenly, twitching and aching, needy—he'd never admit it, though. the professor stares at the roof as he kneels and press his hips against your bare cunt. you moan when his digits leave your mouth, and you get a smack on your thigh. okay, you can do it. rolling your eyes, you get his warning as a challenge. if he wants silence, than he'd receive it. no moaning for him. used to having sex with him in public places, you sure can do it—and tobirama knows you're very quiet when you want. being a loud bitch is just a part of the whole show, isn't it? tobirama frees his cock out of his pants, rock hard, aching and painfully needing to be inside you. he teases, the tip

replacing his fingertips, his thumb going to your clit. you don't react. tobirama keeps pushing himself into you, every centimeter being harder to keep in silence. but you're a proud girl, you know how to use it. you exhale and breath loudly when he is all buried in your cunt, his crotch touching your ass. pretty girl, takes him so well. "i'm recording a video since you're all obedient today. is it okay?", tobirama says and you nod, giving him the permission. he holds his phone with one hand and use the other to rub your clit violently, hard and rough. once he starts to record, he moves—no time for adjusting, no time for teasing. he is fast, in and out of your cunt, reaching deep inside. you bit your lip to avoid moaning, but it's too much. you can't last too much having him angry and jealous marking his territory, marking his hoe. damn it, you can't do it anymore. however before you let your painful moan out, tobirama does it first—you won. "mm, can you imagine not having this anymore?", he asks as you look back, crying. you shake your head in a 'no'. "no? so", his pace is faster, making your tits shake and bounce with every thrust, "fucking forget that man. i'm your best professor, aren't i?". he waits for you to answer, but you don't. tobirama stops his moves. "answer, hoe". you don't look back, crying even with him standing inside you. "yes, sir tobirama, you're my best professor", you say with a pleading, sweet voice. "good bitch", he strokes your waist and pull it towards his hips. you move your body, wanting to feel it more—the knot in your belly is fucking tight and you can't help but beg for more, incoherent words leaving your mouth. "dumb girl, can't you even make a proper sentence?", he teases, but his mind is dizzy as well. "you really like when i tell you what to do, don't you?", his voice is a whisper, devilish words. "yes, sir", you confirm, wanting to reach you orgasm soon. "please, let me cum", you beg. and tobirama fucking gives what you want—need—, pressing your clit harder as his tip abuses your g spot. your body shake and you can't even stand, falling to the side. tobirama leans over you and pushes himself into you once more, you sensitive cunt burning again. "sir, it's too much", you mumble, closed eyes, but lets him use you body. "i like it, though", a confission leaves you lips and he is done—you feel his cum into you. he hugs you after it, kissing your dry lips softly. you know he never does it, so it's weird, but no time for thinking about it. "you're my favorite professor, tobirama. don't worry about it."

[captainrexforever]

His Queen

Rating: T

Word Count: ~3k

Summary: You’re a little hesitant about wearing makeup due to a past experience. Din has no problem changing your mind.

Warnings: childhood trauma??, little bit of angst, fluff, steamy makeout

Note: After the amazing response I received on my last fic I decided to write another one. After all, these ideas are still going to be swirling around my head even if I don’t put them in writing. I hope you enjoy!

Sidenote: Imagine him looking at you like this *swoon*

“Are you sure we don’t have any additional rations in the crates?”

“No, the kid snuck into the stash last night. I didn’t notice until after he polished off the last of the rations.”

Din just sighs.

“I can make the trip to the market while you finish the repairs.”

“No, I’ll go, I don’t want you to deal with all the bantha shit that goes on at these markets.”

For some reason-don’t ask why-it’s incredibly attractive to hear him curse. 

It’s touching to hear the protective note in his voice, but you feel that you are well enough equipped to handle yourself. As a teenager, you had been taught the essentials of self defense by a family friend.  

“It’s alright. I’ll have my comm with me and it won’t take long if I just place an order for delivery of the rations.”

“Alright, if you insist. Be careful.”

“I will.”

He stands from his kneeling position on the floor, where he had been checking the netting beneath the bench for any additional ration packets. You prepare to leave, patting down your pockets to make sure you have your credits, your blaster, and your comm before you set off. When you look up again, he’s standing in front of you, a tilt of his helmet betraying his inner thought process. A smile tugs at your lips.

“Looking for a goodbye kiss?”

He sighs again, and you’re certain he’s rolling his eyes beneath the helmet.

“Ner verd’ika, you are a tease.”

You giggle before raising your hands to the sides of his helmet, eyes fluttering closed as you tilt it upwards. With an accuracy born from hours of practice you lean forward, raising on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips before allowing the beskar to fall back into place. He lets out a disgruntled huff, his hands falling to your hips and tugging you against his torso so that he can rest his forehead against yours.

“Be careful.” He repeats.

“Always.”

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

It’s surprising how many people can squeeze into the small marketplace, vendors and townsfolk chattering away as they bargain for an agreeable price. Animals bellow in the distance, adding to the noisy buzz that fills the crowded streets. 

You find yourself enjoying the bustling atmosphere, welcoming the stark juxtaposition to the quiet serenity of the Razor Crest. Before you can become too distracted, you steer your feet towards the largest area of the forum where several shops display food and beverages. 

After placing an order of rations and directing the shop owner to deliver the crates to the spaceport, you find there are a few spare moments to wander around the market before returning to the ship and tending to the delivery.

After traveling with Din for some time now, it has come to your attention that each planet you visit boasts a unique variety of wares. The citizens of this particular planet seem to possess a fascination with water-colored mugs and delicate embroidery. Not that you are complaining, everything that greets your eyes is absolutely gorgeous.

Upon rounding the next corner though, you stop dead in your tracks. Before you stands what is obviously a cosmetics shop. Holoimages are projected against the walls of the stand, each image featuring breathtaking models who-to your immense surprise-don't have you feeling even a dash of envy. What has you so enamored is the crowd of young women that peruse the shop. They are obviously a group of friends, but what shocks you the most is the presence of their mothers. Each parent is eagerly pointing out cosmetic items and encouraging the younger women to apply the samples that are provided. Bitter tears bite at the surface of your eyes, and you blink furiously in an effort to keep them contained.

As a young woman you had constantly been dissuaded from wearing makeup, told that it wasn’t appropriate at your age. You feel pathetic, chastising yourself and turning around with the intention of returning to the ship. But you don’t get very far, a feminine voice floating past your ears.

“Miss, Miss? Would you like to join us?”

Not wanting to expose your current state of turmoil, you scrub frantically at your tear-stained face, hoping to avoid further humiliation. When you feel presentable, you turn slowly, coming face-to-face with a girl that stands even shorter than you. Practically an impossible occurrence at your height, Mando would have teased you if he was here.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you were by yourself, and well, on our planet it’s tradition for women to join together and add to their makeup collection on this particular day. It’s like the New Years of cosmetics.” Her eyes are shining, and she seems so genuine that you feel silly for your earlier judgement. “Although I am almost certain you are just visiting, my friends and I would be honored if you would join us.” Almost as if on cue, her friends rush up behind her, pleading with you to stay for just a little bit.

“Well, I…” Din will be expecting you back soon, and you don’t want to worry him.

“Pleeeaaaase!” They all beg, drawing out the word as they stare at you.

“Alright, just for a few minutes.” He won’t mind, you think to yourself. He and the kid can catch up while you are gone anyways, they haven’t been able to spend much time together lately.

The girls’ smiles are blinding and the first one grabs your hand, pulling you along as they all return to the stand to continue shopping. “I’m Tasha, by the way.” She beams. You smile back, sharing your name as well.

“What will you purchase?” Another girl questions.

“Oh, actually I don’t wear makeup.”

“You don’t?” They looked like you just told them Life day was made up.

“No, I....I never learned how to apply it.” That was close enough to the truth.

“Don’t worry, we’ll show you how!” Then Tasha is beckoning her mother over and soon they are exchanging ideas so quickly that you lose track, only picking up on fragments such as “transition”, and “complementary shade”.

“Could you please sit for a moment?” Tasha’s mother inquires, gesturing to a chair that rests next to the booth.

You’re a little hesitant, the assortment of items that they are both clutching in their hands has you yearning to turn your back and run.

Take a deep breath, it’s just a little bit of makeup, it’s not going to kill you.

After your flight instinct recedes a little, you move to sit in front of the older woman, trying not to flinch as she gently dabs several types of cream-like products on your face. She tuts here and there, discarding some of the products that she is holding as she works through all of the samples. Eventually, she finishes, holding out a wipe as she gestures for you to wipe your face. Once that is accomplished, she’s attacking the various assortment of products that Tasha is still holding. You idly wonder if it’s sanitary to be layering so many products over the sensitive skin of your face, but assume that it is probably alright if this is a common practice for most women.

What feels like hours later, after your face has been contorted into every position imaginable, your eyes weighed down by what seems to be a boat anchor attached to your eyelashes, Tasha and her mother proudly declare that you are ‘finished’-whatever that means. Then Tasha is holding out a bag of products for you to take. You eagerly accept the bag, feeling quite mature all of a sudden, and swagger over to the counter to pay the clerk. To your immense shock, Tasha’s own mother is sitting behind the register, and when you approach she insists that the items are ‘on the house’, refusing to accept any form of payment.

With a blush, you suddenly realize you have no idea how to apply any of the products yourself, but before you can even open your mouth, the older woman is sliding a piece of flimsy towards you. A detailed assembly of holoimages decorates the flimsy, demonstrations and instructions outlining the correct application technique for each product. There are tears welling in your eyes again, but you blink them back and circle the table to engulf the woman in a heartfelt embrace. She accepts the action with an affection you can only describe as motherly, patting your back gently until you pull away, then fixing you with a radiant smile.

Suddenly your heart drops into your throat, and your own smile fails. You can’t return to the ship looking like this! Din will be appalled that you delayed your departure from the spaceport to indulge in a personal shopping trip. Tasha’s mother frowns, watching as you suddenly turn frantic, scanning the nearby vicinity like a child who has been caught stealing a dessert cube. You reach for the packet of makeup wipes that sits upon the table, hastily rushing to explain the thoughts running through your head.

“This makeup is lovely, but I can’t return to my…” kriff, what should you call him...“friend looking like this.”

“And why not?” You are taken aback a little at the tone of your voice. She’s not angry, though there are hints of disapproval and surprise laced into her words.

You stammer for a response. “He...I…” Your brain sputters as you try to conjure the right words.

“Oh, I see. He’s that kind of friend. Well, if he doesn’t like the way you look, then you seem like the type of person who will have no trouble putting him back into his place.”

She continues speaking even as your jaw falls open.

“However, I heavily suspect that won’t be necessary.” The knowing grin that spreads across her face is like that of a loth-cat that just caught a canary.

“....” You can’t manage to utter a single word, trying to force down the blush that is rising to your cheeks.

“Here, take a look into this mirror.”

Woah, is that your face? Whatever had been applied to your eyes had caused the color to pop, drawing attention to your now piercing gaze. Every feature appeared to be enhanced, and you couldn’t help but note that your jawline seemed capable of cutting through duraplast, like a vibroblade through bantha butter on a hot Tatooine day.

“I look...wow.”

The older woman chuckles gently. “You look amazing dear. Embracing your natural beauty is important, but you shouldn’t be afraid of enhancing it either. No matter what, your inner beauty always speaks louder than any outer appearance ever will. Now go catch that man of yours. I’m sure he will agree with me too.” She ends with a pointed wink.

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

Shadows stream past you as you jog back to the Razor Crest, hoping you are not too late to meet the merchant who is delivering the order of rations. Of course your luck is worse than you expected, and not only is there no merchant in sight, but it seems that Din has already finished the repairs. Kriff. Well, you’ll just have to return to the shop and apologize to the owner before pleading for another delivery opportunity. Then, after you settle that, you will need to prepare an explanation for Din. 

Kriffing hell.

 How do you always manage to get yourself into these situations?

“And here you had me thinking that you might have finally ditched me.” Din startles you, but there is a teasing lilt to his voice.

How is he still in a good mood? Wait, where is he?

“Up here.” He’s chuckling now too, probably at your apparent confusion, the bastard.

You look up and place your hands on your hips in disbelief of what you’re seeing. A shake of your head does nothing to help you understand what exactly is going on. At the moment, Din is flying figure eights in the air using his jetpack, the kid tucked securely in his arms while he squeals in delight. You shake your head again, looking down at the ground as a rush of affection floods your chest. The damned Mandalorian can be such a romantic without even realizing it. 

As of late, it has been difficult for either of you to discreetly purchase jetpack fuel at a decent price. Yet, here he is taking the kid for a ride, probably because he looked into those big brown eyes and couldn’t resist indulging the kid in a quick flight.

Their maneuvers continue for a few more minutes, and you wonder if you should head back to the market while Din and the kid are still occupied. Abruptly, you decide to take a seat inside the Crest for just a moment before jogging back to the store. It’s not until you scale the ramp that you notice the newly delivered crates resting inside the storage netting.

“The delivery arrived before you did, so I made sure that it was unloaded onto the right ship.” If you weren’t so relieved you might scold him for scaring you like that. Then again, he probably enjoys sneaking up on you. You scowl goodnaturedly, he’s lucky you lov--. Oh no, no, no.

No, no, no, no, no.

No, no, no.

No, no.

No.

He’s lucky you love the kid. That’s right, that’s what you meant to say.

Whew.

You move to rub your forehead, then realize that you’re still wearing what feels like fifteen layers of bantha paste and an entire canister of glitter on your face. Uh-oh. Has Din seen your face yet? You don’t think so. Your back is still facing him, but at any second he’s bound to step in front of you and notice that you’re all decked-out in makeup. 

Despite the kind words from the woman back at the market, you feel yourself begin to panic. What if he thinks you look silly, or worse what if it changes his perception of you? 

His footsteps advance forwards and you hold your breath, only for him to continue towards the kid’s hammock. It’s then that you realize the kid has fallen asleep in his buir’s arms, obviously worn out after his latest adventure. Din is exceedingly gentle as he sets him into his hammock, rocking the child for a few seconds to ensure he remains fully asleep.

As you bask in the sight of a soft, caring Din you don’t realize he’s turning around until it’s too late. He lets out a punched out sound once he is face-to-helmet with you, and although you are never sure where his visor is pointing, you know without a doubt that it is currently directed at your face. 

Neither of you move, gaze fixed firmly on the other for several minutes as a lingering tension brushes at your spine. Before you can explain yourself the lights flicker and plunge the hull into darkness, gloved hands and a beskar covered chest suddenly slamming into you, pinning you against the nearest wall so quickly that your back aches a little from the force of the impact.

“Kriffing hell.” He manages.

Oh, you definitely shouldn’t find that as attractive as you do.

“Is this what you were doing all afternoon?” His words are followed by a resonating clang, and you find yourself begging whatever deity is above that he is about to kiss you senseless. Sadly, he seems too interested in pressing a kiss to your neck while he whispers shamelessly into your ear. It’s a close second though, and you're definitely not complaining, especially when the position allows you to drop a hand down to squeeze his perfectly sculpted ass.

He lets out a growl at your feistiness, sucking at your neck in a manner that is sure to leave a visible hickey. “Maybe I should send you to the marketplace more often if this is how you’ll return.”

You let out a pleased mewl at that, proud that you are able to elicit such a passionate response from your usually stoic companion. “Sounds...sounds good to me.” Your reply is breathy, and there is no way that your lungs are supplying sufficient oxygen to your brain right now. It doesn’t help that Din has decided to wrap one of your thighs around his waist, your body erupting into flames at the suggestive positioning.

“Look so good.” It’s muttered between butterfly kisses, his lips charting the skin of your neck like it’s a flight path. “So pretty.” Another scorching kiss on your neck. “My sweet girl.” It’s half spoken-half growled against your throat.

A moan is ripped from your throat at that last sentence, and your free hand is scrabbling for purchase in his hair, using your touch to coax his lips to meet your own neglected ones. This man is going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it. He’s mewling into your mouth, half-chuckling because he knows how much you appreciate that specific action, then he’s pressing his tongue in as well, sliding it across yours as he dares you into a battle of dominance. You can’t help but indulge him, fingers tightening in his curls as you allow yourself to be a little more aggressive, pushing into his mouth as you lead him on a merry chase. Even in the most intimate of acts, Din is ever the hunter and he takes control in a record amount of time, knotting his hand in your hair so that he can position your head in whatever manner he desires. The whole act is absolutely delicious and your toe curls as you wedge yourself even closer to his armor-clad chest.

“I sure hope you have more of that stuff.” He mumbles against your lips when you both separate for a breath.

“Huh?” You finally manage after gasping down a breath.

“It makes you look like a queen.” He elaborates.

There’s no point in arguing with him, especially when his mouth returns to yours to shut down any rebuttal you might have.

It’s safe to say that any of your hesitations towards wearing makeup were cleared up after that particular incident, and you learned a couple valuable lessons that day. The most important being to buy extra makeup wipes for the Mandalorian himself. Let’s just say Din was an...enthusiastic kisser.

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

Ner verd’ika: my little warrior

Buir: (mother or father), in this case it pertains to ‘father’

Life day: the equivalent of Christmas in the star wars universe

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

More dissection of the narrative mirrors that Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng are for each other along with the False Romantic Lead that Jiang Cheng falls into next to Lan Wangji's true show of affection. And to outline again, no I do not "ship it", as Wei Wuxian's love of Jiang Cheng was always presented as platonic but a very firm case could be made about Jiang Cheng's nebulous mess of feelings.

Wei WuXian, “ Lan-er-gongzi, what you’re asking for really can’t be explained in a short amount of time. And it’s also strange. If I were to ask you about the GusuLan Sect’s secret techniques, would you answer me?”

Lan WangJi walked past Jiang Cheng and came straight at him. Wei WuXian crossed his flute in front of him, “This is too much, isn’t it? Why so unfriendly? Lan Zhan, just what in the world do you want to do?”

Lan WangJi spoke one word at a time, “Go back to Gusu with me.”

At the peak of Wei Wuxian's rise of becoming the Yiling Laozu (yes yes, I know Patriarch is popular... but I don't like it as a translation at all with this genre.), due to being on edge he does not realize Lan Wangji's pressure for answers is concern and worry, not a rebuke or judgement. He is not asking to punish Wei Wuxian, though with Wei Wuxian's previous experience, Lan Wangji has always been associated with it due to his strict adherence to Gusu Lan principles.

Wei WuXian, “Damage, how much, or none, I know it the best. As for my heart, it’s my heart, after all. I know what I’m doing.”

Lan WangJi, “Some things you cannot be able to control at all.”

Displeasure flashed across Wei WuXian’s face, “Of course I can control it.”

Lan WangJi walked a step closer. He seemed to be about to speak again when Wei WuXian closed his eyes, “Anyways, on the topic of how my heart is, what could other people know about it? Why should other people care about it?”

Lan WangJi paused. He had suddenly been angered, “… Wei WuXian!”

Wei WuXian had been angered as well, “Lan WangJi! Do you really have to make this difficult for me at such a point in time? You want me to go to the Cloud Recesses for the GusuLan Sect’s confinement punishment? Who do you think you are, what do you think the GusuLan Sect is?! You really think that I won’t resist?!”

Hostile energy formed between the two of them. Over Bichen’s hilt, Lan WangJi’s knuckles turned white. Jiang Cheng’s voice was cold, “Lan-er-gongzi, right now, the chaos with the Wen Sect hasn't stopped yet. This is the time where we desperately need forces. People don’t even have the time to care for themselves, why would the GusuLan Sect be concerned about something so removed from it? Wei WuXian is on our side. Do you want to punish our own people?”

Wei WuXian regained his composure, “That’s right. It’s all good as long as the Wen-dogs are the ones killed. Why care about how I kill them?”

The two knew how to continue each other’s words ever since they were young. Now, one sentence after another, the argument flowed seamlessly, “Apologies for saying something so blunt, but even if we get to the bottom of this, Wei WuXian isn’t from your sect at all. It’s not the GusuLan Sect’s place to punish him. No matter whom he goes back with, it wouldn’t be you.”

Hearing this, Lan WangJi’s expression froze. He looked up at Wei WuXian, the lump at his throat trembling, “I…”

Jiang Cheng on the other hand receives Wei Wuxian happily, but, interestingly does not inquire himself just how Wei Wuxian really is, just that he is happy to take in another supporter to his torture of Wen Chao and Wen Zhuilu. He helps to double down on Wei Wuxian's argument that Lan Wangji is an outsider and has no right to question Wei Wuxian, he belongs to Yunmeng Jiang, in other words, Jiang Cheng. There is the thread of possession there that Wei Wuxian does not realize is from Jiang Cheng, not Lan Wangji. Their places have been twisted to reflect a false sense of security vs the false sense of threat.

Wei WuXian suddenly murmured, “… Lan Zhan.”

He reached out and grabbed at one of Lan WangJi’s sleeves. Lan WangJi had stayed by his side. He immediately bent down and whispered, “I am here.”

Wei WuXian hadn’t woken up yet. His eyes were still tightly shut, yet his hand didn’t let go either. He seemed to be dreaming, muttering, “… Don’t… Don’t be angry…”

Lan WangJi seemed somewhat surprised. Yet his voice was gentle, “I am not angry.”

Wei WuXian, “… Oh.”

Hearing this, as though he finally felt assured, his fingers loosened.

Lan WangJi sat beside Wei WuXian for a while. Seeing that he was motionless again, he was about to stand up when Wei WuXian reached out to him with his other hand, hugging his arm and refusing to let go. He shouted, “I’ll go with you, quick, take me back to your sect!”

Lan WangJi’s eyes widened.

After his outburst, Wei WuXian seemed to have shouted himself awake. His long lashes trembled before he slowly opened his eyes. After his sight finally went from blurred to clear, he suddenly realized that both of his hands were wrapped around Lan WangJi as though he was grasping a straw, clutching at a floating piece of wood within water.

Immediately after Wei Wuxian's reflection of the past, still caught up within that, agrees that Lan Wangji was his true safety and has associated Lan Wangji with protection and concern. Something that Jiang Cheng really was not during their time of the war. The opposite of what was meant to be projected in their younger years as Wei Wuxian has come to learn and admit that Jiang Cheng really did not know him as he once believed. Lan Wangji thirteen years later is also much calmer in the face of Wei Wuxian's own conflict and is quick to reassure him that he is just there for him as a moor of help.

Before, during the first siege of The Grave Mounds, Jin GuangShan led the LanlingJin Sect, while Jiang Cheng led the YunmengJiang Sect; Lan QiRen led the GusuLan Sect, while Nie MingJue led the QingheNie Sect. The former two were the main forces, the latter two could’ve stayed behind. Now, the LanlingJin Sect’s leader hadn’t even arrived, having only sent people for the GusuLan Sect to command; the GusuLan Sect was still led by Lan QiRen; Nie HuaiSang replaced his brother’s position, shrunken within the crowd, his face still full of ‘I don’t know anything’, ‘I don’t want to do anything’, and ‘I’m just here for the numbers’.

Jiang Cheng was the only one still surrounded by hostile energy, face insidious, staring straight at him.

But…Wei WuXian looked slightly to the side. He saw Lan WangJi, who stood beside him, without any hint of hesitation, any thought of withdrawing.

Now, this time, he wasn’t alone anymore.

During the second siege Wei Wuxian dwells on his feelings concerning the two once more. Jiang Cheng has directed his anger away from the Wens and now to Wei Wuxian who he had not worried for, electing to use his hostility to alienate Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji on the other hand silently affirms he is there for Wei Wuxian, and allows him to use his own words, to not speak for him like Jiang Cheng once did.

His second meeting with Jiang Cheng reiterates his distinct distaste for setting foot in Lotus Pier or being in Jiang Cheng's presence alone.

Jiang Cheng interrupted, “It’s just what? You can’t say it? Don’t worry, you can go back to Lotus Pier and say your excuses while kneeling in front of my parents’ graves.”

Wei WuXian calmed himself down and searched as fast as he could for a way out of the situation at hand. Although he had always dreamed of returning to Lotus Pier once before, he didn’t want to go back to the tattered one nowadays!

This is nicely paralleled later when Wei Wuxian is hurt over the idea that he can't be with Lan Wangji in any capacity any longer and knows that he can't take that rejection if it comes to that.

In the beginning, when he was with Lan WangJi, he never thought this was a problem at all. He took it for granted that they’d continue like this, unchanging. But after tonight, maybe he and Lan WangJi couldn’t go back to how they were ever again. Without Lan WangJi, maybe it wasn’t too impossible for him to roam the world on his own.

But a voice in Wei WuXian’s heart told him with certainty, No, you can’t.

Effectively, the two have switched places for Wei Wuxian in the way he associates their places in his life. He wants Lan Wangji's steady presence and genuine questions of his methods to safely overcome things, over Jiang Cheng unquestionably using him as a tool until he realizes Wei Wuxian is his own person, not an extension of him.