#like i remember when it was teased but not confirmed and we all collectively lost our shit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

juneknight · 1 year ago

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•.Be Lost.• 2

Chapter One | Chapter 1.5 | Chapter Two | Chapter 2.5

“You talk about them often enough. I feel like we should formally meet. What’s the equivalent of putting a face to a name, but with sex toys?” Marc asks, voice warm with mirth from the other end of the phone. It’s the only thing warm about living up here in the constant snowstorms. Your feet ache today from stomping around in the fields on the frozen earth. Even though Spring approaches on the calendar, you don’t yet feel it in the air.

You dread the thought of possibly having to delay your return home, to Marc, because of the weather.

Your box of sex toys (it’s a shoe box, yes, some nice Cat’s boots with steel in the toes and thick insulated soles, a half-size larger than usual to allow for thick wooly socks which you favored) sits on the bed. You no longer even owned the shoes, but the box was heavy, the lid bulging from two years of collecting an eclectic set of sex toys.

“I’ll show you. But I have rules,” you say, phone wedged between your shoulder and ear.

“I’m listening.” You can hear the smile in his voice, and it drives you nuts.

“One–absolutely no naming them. I’m serious. The last thing I want is to be trying to get off and remember that you named a certain dildo Colonel Mustard.”

“I’m more of a Professor Plum kind of guy anyway, but consider your objection noted.”

“No making fun of me of any kind. Not even light teasing.”

“Agreed.”

“And no questions.”

“That’s…yeah, I don’t think I can agree to that,” he says, surprising you given how amicable he’s been so far. “Can we agree on premeditated questions? Some basics that you answer for each of them?”

You purse your lips and sit down heavily on your bed. The box rattles beside you, lid almost coming off. “Depends on the questions, I guess.”

“When was the last time you used it, and your personal rating out of ten.”

You relax somewhat. Whatever you had been worried about Marc wanting to know—’gross, why that?’ or ‘who used that on you?’—disappears. Maybe it says something about the men you’ve been with lately that your first fear is that Marc will become jealous or judgemental. You should have known that Marc would be different. “Yeah, okay. That’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, voice growing firm. “I don’t want you to say something’s okay when it isn’t. That’s a big deal to me.”

“I’m sure, dad.”

Marc snorts. “Okay, champ. FaceTime. Let’s go.”

You press the button, and while it connects, you experience all five stages of grief, chewing on one of your thumbnails as you shift from one socked foot to the other. At last his face appears, and it’s like a punch to the gut. Marc is so handsome: his brows, the curve of his nose, his whiskey-warm eyes, the curls spilling onto his forehead. His hair is longer now than the last time you saw him, and it makes your heart clench. You find yourself smiling without meaning to.

“Hey, beautiful,” Marc says, eyes squinting with his smile. “Long time no see.”

“Too long,” you admit. You study the picture in the background, trying to piece together where he is in his apartment. Judging by the lighting (warm but dark) and the lamp in the background, he is in his bedroom. This is confirmed when he rolls over onto his side and props himself up onto his elbow on one of the fluffy pillows.

Once, you had gotten too drunk to drive home and Marc had let you sleep in his bed. You had spent the whole night rolling around on the soft sheets, breathing in his scent, aching but too guilty to touch yourself.

“You okay?” he asks, brows lifting. His mouth settles into a soft, more neutral position, like he is being careful not to convince you one way or another. His lips are so full and soft looking… “If you don’t want to do this, we can say forget it. I just like to know what my options are.”

His options—oh fuck.

Your face burns hot. You slap one palm against your cheek, feeling the heat your skin gives off, knowing that Marc is watching you (which makes your face burn all the hotter). Fuck, how can he just say stuff like that, calm and casual in his soft, warm voice? You think about turning the camera away for a moment just to catch your breath.

“You’re so shy right now,” Marc says, a hint of laughter in his voice. “God. It’s cute.”

“Quit,” you groan, parting your fingers so you can glare at the phone. His grin just grows. “I’m not shy, I have a strap-on.”

“If you think having six inches between your legs makes you immune to shyness, I’ve got news for you.”

“Is that all you’ve got? Six inches?”

“You want to see?” The way he raises his brow, the way he so expertly calls your bluff makes your thighs clench together. Like a great neon sign flashing behind your eyes right now are the words MARC’S COCK. You’ve never seen it, but you know Marc is well hung. You’ve seen him adjust his hard ons before—in the morning after waking up, during a particularly steamy scene on Netflix. The bulge in his sweats has made an appearance or two in your dreams, yes.

“Maybe,” you admit, wondering if he’ll show you. Right now. On FaceTime. Just whip his dick out for you to drool over.

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” he says, mouth quirking into a smirk. “But really. Go on. I have work in the morning, and I want to see every last toy.”

You bring out plenty of things that are “normal”. G-spot vibrators. Clitoral vibrators. Rabbit vibes, and pretty glass dildos. Most of the items get a high score—you have narrowed them down to your favorites. A natural selection amongst sex toys, if you will.

Sometimes you glance to Marc and get flustered at the solemn, studious expression on his face. He hangs on your every word, committing the things you say to memory. No man has ever given you attention the way Marc does: whole-heartedly. Singularly. Unconditionally.

Your throat gets choked up for a moment at the thought. God, you’re falling in love with him, you think in terror to yourself, as if you haven’t already. As if your knees aren’t skinned and palms bloody from the fall.

“You okay, honey?”

You jump a little, having gotten lost in your own thoughts. You clear your throat.

“Yeah, no, I’m good.” You pick up the next item, a candle. When he asks you what scent it is, you laugh a little. “The wax melts at a safe temperature for wax play. You know. Pouring wax on somebody.”

“Rate it.”

“It’s…maybe a four. May-be.”

Massage oil (8), cuffs (10), collapsible spreader bar (9), bite gag (5), blindfold (10), harness (7), all come and go. It is easier to continue once you get talking, and by the end you feel like late night Dr. Ruth.

At last, the box is empty.

“That’s all she wrote,” you tell Marc. He looks a little sleepy, though his eyes are still sharp where they focus on you, tracing over your features. He is quiet. You prod: “Well?”

“I’m going to have to use every last one on you,” he says, eyes on your own. “And until I can, I’m going to be thinking about you using every last one on yourself.”

His shoulder shifts, arm moving off screen—adjusting his hard cock.

“Fuck, Marc,” you sigh brokenly. “You can’t say shit like that.”

“That wasn’t one of your rules,” he says, eyes going heavy-lidded. You thought he was just adjusting himself, but the motion continues. Not enough for him to be full-fledged jerking off, but you think that’s he’s teasing himself. Massaging himself maybe. Your thighs squeeze together. Would he notice if you did the same? “Thank you for the show-and-tell. You’re such a good girl for me.”

You groan.

He laughs, the sound gentle and teasing. “That gets you, huh?”

“Don’t laugh at me,” you bark, endeavoring to cover your face as best as you can with one hand. The truth of his observation doesn’t matter; it’s the principle of the thing. Peeking through your fingers, you catch his expression, and your breath hitches. Marc looks at the phone screen with something unbearably tender in his eyes, something so terribly soft.

Marc looks at you like he loves you.

“Which one’s your favorite? Let me see it again.”

Your favorite. Hmm. You step back from your bed and look at the toys spread out so neatly, your brain turning over the question. All of them get you hot in one way or another, but there is one that stands out. You end up choosing a relatively simple rabbit vibrator. It’s ol’ Faithful; what else can you say?

“Is this what you grab when you want to blow your own mind, or is this what you grab any old night?”

“I want to blow my own mind every old night, Spector.”

“Noted. But you’re not pouring hot wax on yourself every old night,” he says. It is utterly distracting how his shoulder still tenses periodically, hand moving off-screen. You spend an inordinate amount of time watching those small muscles flex, trying to recreate the image of what his hand must be doing in your mind. “What is it about this one? What do you like about it?”

“I like that it fills me up,” you admit. It is a little easier to talk when you’re so distracted by him. “I like that I can use it without hands. Sometimes I put the spreader bar on and bind my hands to the headboard so I can feel like—”

Marc’s arm has stopped moving. His eyes are sharp, burning hot, like iron from the furnace. How voice is quiet but brooks no room for avoiding the question when he asks: “So you can feel like what, baby?”

“I…I don’t know,” you say. It isn’t a lie, either. You aren’t sure where the sentence was heading, and so much about your relationship with being submissive eludes you when you try to put it into words. You chew on the inside of your cheek while you think, and Marc is utterly quiet and still while you contemplate. “Like…like I’m suffering for somebody. Like my pleasure belongs to somebody else. Whoever tied me up. I don’t know.”

Marc nods a little, quiet for a moment himself. “From now on, it belongs to me, yeah? Even if you’re the one tying yourself up—you’ll be doing it because I tell you to, alright? And you’ll be doing it safely. It’s dangerous to tie yourself up when you’re alone. That’s not like my good girl. I don’t want to hear you doing that again.”

“Sorry,” you whisper. You kneel on the floor, bed too covered in toys to lay on. You rest your head against the edge of the mattress, adjusting the phone so that he can still see your face.

“I’ll forgive you when I hear that you won’t do it anymore,” he says. His hand is moving again. Maybe he is jerking off. “Promise me.”

“I won’t tie myself up when I’m alone. I promise.”

Marc lets out a breath, a literal sigh of relief. His eyes go squinty as he smiles, pride evident in the curve of his lips. “There’s my good girl.”

You groan again, turning to bury your face in the mattress.

“Are you on the floor right now?” he laughs.

You groan in an affirmative.

“Kneeling for me?”

You hadn’t intended it that way, but now that he says it, you realize that you are. You nod your head, face still hidden.

“Thighs apart?”

You peek an eye at him and hope he can tell that you’re scowling. Determined to follow his rules (even if your sex positively aches between your thighs) you shift your legs apart.

“You make me feel so powerful,” he says, voice a little shaky. His eyes are looking just off screen, like he can’t make eye-contact with you right now. “Kneeling for me, following my orders. So powerful. But so, so small. You know that? Because you’ve got me wrapped around your finger. And I like it.”

“I like it too,” you murmur, head a little foggy.

“Why?”

“It feels real safe,” you admit. “Like you’ll take care of me. Like you’d never have me do something that might hurt me or embarrass myself.”

“I wouldn’t, baby, I swear I wouldn’t,” he says. Then he sighs. “You’re driving me fucking crazy. I’m jerking off twice a day just to function.”

“Marc,” you say, your voice literally shaking. “Are you—right now?”

He hums and lets his arm grow bolder. The motion is unmistakable now. Marc Spector is masturbating on the phone with you—because of you. The knowledge is like an electric zap that you feel from your head to your toes. Is his dick out? Does he have a hand beneath his sweats? All of this is too much; your own hand falls between your thighs.

“At-at,” says Marc. His shoulder stops moving. “No touching yourself.”

“What?” you whine. “That’s not fair!”

“I stopped too!”

“You’ve been jerking off for twenty minutes though, you owe me!”

“That’s not how this works,” he laughs. “Not to mention, there isn’t a chance in hell you’d last twenty minutes even if I did let you touch yourself. No—we’re going to wait.”

“Til when?”

“Spring. The first time I hear you cum, it’s going to be with my fingers tucked inside you. I want to kiss you and swallow every sound.”

“Then can we hang up?” you ask, shifting on your knees. “I need to touch myself.”

“Use your cute little vibrator,” he murmurs. You both hang up.

He’s right. There’s no way you could have lasted twenty minutes when you barely make it to two.

Spring is never going to come.

Except it does. Of course it does. There is still the occasional snowstorm, but they are irregular enough that you are no longer needed. You book a flight back home, and send Marc a screenshot of your ticket.

I’ll pick you up.

The thought makes your belly flip with nerves. You decide that as eager as you are to see Marc, you are just as anxious too. You would rather prolong it a fraction more, would rather it took place on more familiar turf (outside your apartment rather than the strange unfamiliar-familiarity of an airport). So instead you tell him to meet you back at your apartment. If he brings some basic groceries, bonus points for him.

Though planes don’t often make you nervous anymore, you find yourself gripping your folded hands so tight that you leave marks from your fingernails. What are you doing, agreeing to have sex with Marc? This could ruin everything: your most valuable friendship. The one person in the world who had stuck beside you through thick and thin, even when you had lost people you thought you’d die without.

Even more frightening: what if everything goes right?

Landed, see you soon!! You hope that your exclamation points cover up your anxiety.

Don’t be nervous, he sends back. Fuck.

The Uber is the longest of your life, familiar scenery passing by as you leave the airport and enter the city you’ve called home for so many years. The city where you met Marc. The city where you meet him again and again in the spring, like Persephone coming home. It always happens like this too.

The Uber pulls up to the curb outside your apartment, and Marc is sitting there on the steps. Today is only different because he’s pacing—maybe you aren’t the only one who’s nervous. He’s dressed for spring in just a light jacket, t-shirt, and his jeans. He doesn’t recognize the car when it pulls up, but he recognizes you in the passenger seat. God. His face lights up. Marc goes to the car door and opens it for you, draws you out and into his arms. The first hug he always gives you is bone crushing. He lifts you off the ground and twirls you in his arms before helping you regain your footing.

“Long time, no see,” he says—like always.

“Too long,” you say, clinging to him.

“Uh. Don’t forget your bags,” your Uber driver calls through the open window.

“I got them,” says Marc. He insists on carrying them inside and up the stairs—nice to see that the elevator is still out of order even after the winter. On the way up, Marc fills you in an the uneventful time he spent popping into your apartment every other day to collect your mail, to dust, to water your plants.

You wonder if he slept in your bed. If he laid amongst the scent of you and wanted to touch himself, like you had that night you were too drunk to drive home from his place. You hope that he did—you hope that he touched himself. You—

“Bed,” he says, giving you a jumpscare. At the wide-eyed expression on your face, he misunderstands. “Not for sex! Just—your exhausted. That’s what you get for taking such an early flight. You should nap. Then we should get dinner, my treat. Then we should—”

“Talk.”

“Exactly.”

At his mention of it, your exhaustion (which you had been adamantly pushing back with nerves and adrenalin) resurfaces. He’s right; you always take the earliest flights you can manage, to get home as soon as possible, and yes you arrive to the airport way too early. You’re a woman with anxiety; it’s a given. But the last thing you want to do right now is part ways with Marc. A part of you believes that if he leaves, then you might chicken out. You might never let him back in…

“Stay?” you ask.

“For a nap?” he wonders, mouth stretching in a grin that reeks of fondness for you.

“Sure.”

“In your bed?”

You swallow past the sudden knot in your throat. Fuck, it feels so real. You’re going to have Marc in your bed tonight—for more than just a nap. You push the thoughts away with violence, feeling the way heat rises in your face at the thought alone. Come on, get it together! The way you’re pining for this guy is ridiculous, like you’re a virgin on her wedding night!

Fuck, but can you help it?

“Just sleep,” Marc says, interrupting your spiraling. “Then, dinner. Then…we’ll talk.”

Something inside you relaxes, your shoulders drifting away from where they had been climbing to your ears. Just sleep. You can do that. You’re certainly exhausted enough. A trail of you is formed throughout the apartment: your keys left in the dish by the door, shoes toed off at the shoe-rack, suitcase left haphazardly outside your bedroom door.

Inside, your room is as pristine as you had left it. The sheets are fresh. You have suddenly never been more tired in your life. Taking the last few steps to your bed—a full, larger than the twin you had suffered on during the winter—you collapse on top of the blankets. Who needs to be underneath them? You’re tired enough to sleep just like this.

But Marc pulls the blankets and the sheets back, working them free from beneath your body. He tucks you in, and he climbs into the bed on the other side. Peeking one eye open, you see that he is on his side, watching you. He grins when he catches you looking.

“Sleep tight,” he says sweetly.

God, you do.

When you wake up, the shadows have changed on the wall. It is early evening, your sleep schedule properly fucked. Marc has come to spoon you sometime during your sleep, and you relish the feel of his strong arm looped around your waist, his warm chest pressed flush against your back. The both of you had fallen asleep in your jeans and socks, and neither one cared. For a moment, you let yourself lay there, enjoying the intimacy. It’s easy to pretend you are lovers when he holds you like this.

Then his nose brushes a line up the side of your neck and his breath is hot against your ear as he whispers: “Sleep good?”

“Holy shit, I didn’t know you were awake.”

He snickers, unapologetic.

“Yes,” you say, twisting in his arms. “I slept great. But now I’m starv—...ing.”

As soon as you had turned in his arms, Marc’s eyes had gone molten. Outside, a car alarm goes off. There are horns honking. Someone plays music, but it doesn’t matter. Inside you room, the only sound is the heaving of near-silent breaths as you both lean precariously over the ledge of friendship—whatever rests below, who knows!

“I’m hungry too,” he says, innuendo in his words. His hand on your back traces a line down to the curve of your hip and then up to your ribs. His thumb barely brushes the space beneath your bra. He whispers your name.

He kisses you, a soft press of lips on lips. Again, heads tilted a little differently. Again, noses brushing in a way that has him smiling against your mouth. You part for a single heartbeat before he is leaning back in and kissing you deeper, tasting the seam of your lips with his tongue. Eager, you part your mouth and let him in. Fuck the uncomfortable angle of your neck—you’re kissing Marc Spector.

And God, what a kiss it is. He explores you in a way you hadn’t been explored before. Oh yes, you’d been plundered: had men whose tongues were like their cocks, thrusting away at your mouth, no finesse, no savoring of the moment. Marc kisses you like this is the first and last time he might get to. He traces the line of your teeth with his tongue. He softly nips your bottom lip. He coaxes your tongue into his mouth just to suck at it sweetly. Never have you felt so worshiped from a single kiss—nor so aroused.

Your hips rock against him, finding that he is already erect. You manage to loop one leg around his waist before he breaks the kiss, laughing breathlessly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he teases.

“Aren’t we—?” you blink.

“I said dinner first.”

“But I’m hungry,” you remind him, arching your back to drag your sex over his hard cock. You’ll never forget the sight of his eyes rolling back, his mouth going a little slack as he takes a shuddering breath.

He rolls you over and straddles your hips, hands finding your wrists and pinning you to the bed. His cock tents the seam of his jeans. Like this, you suddenly feel so small. Something inside you gets small and soft and says, ‘Be good for him. Do as he wants.’ You have long come to terms with the instincts inside you that make you crave this, knowing that they do not make you less of a modern woman but God, it’s still so embarrassing how easily you want to fold!

You argue instead, arching up to rub yourself against him, a spark in your eyes. A challenge. Marc’s own eyes narrow. He kneels up off of one of your legs, gripping your thigh to push it up-and-out, spreading you open for him, and God for a moment you think that you’ve convinced him, swayed him with just a wiggle of your hips, and the coming satisfaction will be (almost) as strong as your disappointment.

Instead, he brings his hand down on your pussy in a spank. You yelp. Muffled as it was through the denim, you could still feel the strength in his hand, and you are sensitive enough that it leaves you with a brief, stinging ache. He cups your sex with his palm, soothing it with the warmth of his hand.

“Dinner first. Where’s my good girl at? The girl who fell to her knees a thousand miles away without me even having to ask her, huh?”

You’d cover your face, if your hands were free. Suddenly you are shy and embarrassed at your own behavior. You don’t even allow yourself to rub up against his touch, light though it may be. Looking at him through your lashes, you say: “I’m sorry, I just…”

“You need it,” he says, thumb smoothing along the sensitive stretch of your inner thigh. “I understand, baby. Was I harsh?”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“No sir,” you whisper shyly.

His grin is broad, beatific. It turns teasing almost right away. He leans down and brushes his nose against yours before releasing your wrists and rolling off of you.

“I want to be just friends for just a while longer,” he admits in a whisper. “Throughout dinner. There’s something important I need to tell you.”

#marc spector x reader

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casuallyferal · 1 year ago

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It's been announced that Elon is reflecting on making X membership exclusive, ie where you pay to have an X membership.

With the upcoming death of X, I find myself having meta thoughts about my fandoms, the art community, and where they intersect; and, how much those things radically-and-completely changed after the death of Tumblr -- and still haven't recovered.

(this does relate to Cross!Sans' recent win I prommy just give me a minute)

...

To start off with an example:

Some folks still remember the mass death of Tumblr.

It's hard to describe it to people who didn't see it.

There were actual casualties. Y'all remember that, too? The deaths?

Most of them were because for many people, their ~5-10 years of portfolio disappeared overnight with no recovery. Even for folks who had backups, the little things that mattered most, like reblog-chains, had been compromised. I remember reading a vent post that stuck w/ me of a college applicant sobbing because their blog was going to be their portfolio to apply, and the needed morning, it was gone. They lived through an abusive home and lost their out. They stopped posting after that.

There are keystone works that now only exist in our minds.

Cornerstones of both fandom and people's real lives were erased by a mega corp afraid of organic Human sensuality, the artist's familiar muse. A kiss, a shirtless photo, a man lounging in the sun, didn't matter. Gone with no explanatory messages. Everything was very unstable about the rules for a disturbingly long time with ghost-edits to the sitewide rules, and vague lettering. If you posted a single dangly bit, you're out. If you posted male or female nypples at any point, you're out. The rules now aren't the rules that were for a little while, long enough to carve up careers and sink fandoms.

As a case study:

Try to understand that if you're a new arrival into an old fandom from the Before Times, like say Undertale,

... you arrived into a fandom carved into quarters.

Everything we cared about and definitive blogs & art pieces vanished. I was temporarily surprised that Cross!Sans won the AU contest instead of the longtime fandom favorites like G!Sans.

For years, he was our fandom mascot.

I had a harrowing realization and began doomscrolling to confirm that nobody can find 👌the showstopping sensuality 👌😩 of G!Sans. It's gone.

G-o-n-e gone, can't find it anywhere, like that mfker into his smoke.

Our fandom values and cultural pillars that we built ourselves were deleted off-site by some Suits.

Everything the young people inherited was bleached-out and fucking sanitized by a corporation. We had no choice but to tolerate that, even as self aware as we were about it.

...this cultural-drift was not because of natural evolution, but because we weren't sterile enough to "make the cut;" and now, it's definitive with a clear before/after gap.

...

I'm of the opinion that the online art community has never really recovered from these repeat events.

It's never been the same:

I see a lot less WIPs unless it's teasing a piece.

I see less reckless abbandon in artwork. There's less scribbles.

There's less breath on the canvas.

People tightened their shit up into hyper polished presentation-pieces.

There's less shitposting in general. People used to post doodles and silly faces and polished pieces were in between.

I think this new media relationship comes from a place of collective hurt. I think many of us realized all society gives a fuck about is money money money money for something that for many of us is a necessary biproduct of being alive. The people who couldn't handle that never came back. They Told Us So when they left, and coincidentally, never came back -- or came back different.

❕ (brief cw cp)

As necessary aside, I'm not lumping in the CP -- it's that every platform has CP, and addressing CP head-on on a platform like Tumblr also meant having regulations that corporate with legal, consensual sensuality, and that's not feasible without endorsing that exists... AND, is deeply influential to many artists. Tumblr wasn't willing to do that.

Tumblr wasn't willing to accept ads from orgs that are okay with that, either.

❕ (cw over)

I feel like this keeps happening... Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter/X... because it comes from a cultural climate of fear towards the veritable Human qualities, some raw, beastial, or even vestigial, of which is the Creative's foundational wellspring. What inspires is often transgressive, and there's no room for such things on a corporate level due to the sterile inhumanity of present day economics. If it's not palettable enough that it can be sold to stockholders with polished floors and dry-cleaned suits, we're a weed between the concrete.

Get too tall and we're seen as a disordered presentation of society instead of just... just, Human. Raw, beastial, vestigially Human.

...

At the end of the day,

our inherently-self-expressive Human potential keeps getting butchered alive by fear of sex & sensuality and love, and the bitter taste of culturally dominant hatespeech; to really spit on the situation, the biggest driver behind both of those is economic. There's a desire knit into the social fabric to squeeeeeeze every fkn penny possible out of an inherently involuntary part of the Creative's experience.

For many, creating freely is a necessary part of a Creative's self-regulation, regardless of whether it's just a hobby or a career path. Creatives create things. We have to or we wilt. It is counter-intuitive to the nature of Wall Street, as it stands, and so it will never favor us -- let alone begin to understand that, without overhaul.

For me, painting is like breathing, I have to do it or I become ill.

...

...It's like... they bottled our air.

Dammed our wellsprings and sell our own work back to us in plastic jugs. Elusive, ominous "they," vague because it's a lottery for whoever plays "them" next; executioner with hanging-rope in hand to strange the creative experience.

There's nothing sacred left when it's all about making money.

...so, where's next?

(: Might as well grit our teeth about it and stay organized. Mastodon, I think? Dreamwidth also? Misskey? Where have you heard? Where do I go, now?

I miss the reblog-artfights and having Tumblr friends before it was deleted by a suit, and I don't want to lose that.

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nataliaphantomhivesblog · 4 years ago

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Newsflash: Dazai cares for Chuuya

Before reading any further, I will be talking about stormbringer, so spoilers ahead!! Translation credits go out to: @popopretty on tumblr, make sure to give this kind human some love and appreciation<3

Also if you want to read the first few chapters of stormbringer: @buraihatranslations is currently translating it, give them much love and appreciation as well, they deserve it!!

Honestly, I have been so obsessed with Soukoku lately and I think the reason behind this is because when it comes to Soukoku, their feelings for each other are not as easy to grasp as love or hate, it is much more profound than that. There is care, hurt, trust, resentment, companionship, bitterness, and consideration...And ironically enough, thats just the tip of the iceberg.

If we break down their individual feelings towards each other, it will be easier to understand their bond.

On Chuuya's end, his feelings are much more clear due to his expressive personality. He wears his emotions on his sleeves, he can try and hide what he feels towards Dazai but his true feelings tend to unravel easily.

He sometimes tries to mask his feelings towards Dazai by throwing insults, but his facial expressions are enough to contradict what he is saying.

Chuuya's feelings towards Dazai can be easier to comprehend. He obviously feels this certain betrayal due to the fact Dazai left the Port Mafia. Not to mention, he and Dazai have always had a rivalry relationship.

In the Soukoku wiki page, it is stated that Chuuya is aware of Dazai not experiencing a proper childhood, therefore allows him to act as childish as he can and lets him tease him relentlessly. I don't know how reliable this source is, but either way I think its worthy enough to add.

In the Dragon head conflict when Dazai was out of sight, Chuuya told Mori to forget about Dazai. That was until Hirotsu mentioned a microscope, Chuuya quickly realizes it was code language because he remembered a previous conversation where Dazai says he needs a microscope to be able to see Chuuya properly.

The moment he figured out it was a tracker, Chuuya did not hesitate to jump in and rescue Dazai. But here is the catch: No one but Chuuya knew about the microscope, if Chuuya really didn't care for Dazai he wouldn't have mentioned the microscope and kept all this under wraps, leaving Dazai in a mess.

Chuuya trusts Dazai with his life. He never hesitates to leave his life on Dazai's hands when it has to come to it. Chuuya and Dazai have known each other for years, for Chuuya to be able to trust Dazai that much is because Dazai also cares for him too, right?

The answer here is yes, Dazai cares for Chuuya. In a superficial level, it doesn't seem like Dazai truly cares, but I can assure you that he does care for him. Weather you like to think of his care in a platonic or romantic manner, the care Dazai has for Chuuya is undeniable and extremely significant for Dazai's character.

I think that stormbringer establishes this idea even further. There is one specific moment in this light novel that shows his genuine concern towards Chuuya's well being:

"There is one problem." Dazai cut off his sentence hesitantly. "It has nothing to do with the sucess rate of the plan. It is a matter we have to overcome in the end but... It may require some time to decide."

"What's with you?" Chuuya raised his eyebrows at Dazai. "Stop dramatizing it. Just hurry up and say it."

"I said earlier about this control spell to open the 'gate' that is used to reset the command inside Chuuya, right?" Dazai spoke with a strangely restrained voice. "If we use that, the logs of the command formula that were written in the past will be erased. That means...even if the memory erasure was used on Chuuya in the past, the traces of that will be erased as well."

"What?"

"I told you before right, the memory erasure command. The only way we can confirm if Chuuya is human or not is to check the history to see if the memory erasure command was ever used. It means..." Dazai looked at Chuuya with eyes that he had never looked at him before. Those eyes were serious. "If we use that control spell, the method to confirm if Chuuya is an artificial personality created by a string of code, or just a normal human being, will be lost. For good."

The time had stopped.

Chuuya opened his eyes and looked towards Dazai but his eyes were not seeing anything. The wind blew between the two of them. Even so, Chuuya did not blink.

"Verlaine became like that because he was tormented by the curse that he was not human. That only is enough of a big problem. The matter of being human or not." Dazai looked at his pocket watch, gave it a glance and continued. "I can delay the time until the plan starts for about two minutes. I will send an order for my men to wait... You can think about it alone for a while. Cuz I guess its hard for you to collect your thoughts with me around."

Having said so, Dazai turned away and walked down the stairs, leaving Chuuya alone.

Dazai fixated in his pocket watch. Two more minutes. Too short for a life decision. But he couldn't afford more than that.

Inside Dazai's head, he was planning a procedure to swith to an alternative plan in case Chuuya refused, at a tremendous speed.

This section in stormbringer is personally one of my favorites, this is a very rare moment between both of them, but especially for Dazai. Like I stated earlier Chuuya wears his emotions on his sleeves, therefore even if he tries to mask his care with insults, its still painfully noticable that he genuienly looks after Dazai. Chuuya also sometimes show a vulnerable side of himself to Dazai, especially after using corruption.

Dazai on the other hand is extremely unreadable. Its hard to understand his true intentions and if he really cares for people or only sees them as a pawn. In this moment though, Dazai was being painfully genuine. Dazai literally prioritized Chuuya over the mission. He was already thinking of coming up with an alternative plan just in case Chuuya refused, obviously the sucess rate of the alternative plan would be lesser than the actual plan Dazai had in mind, he choose Chuuya's wellbeing over a mission.

In this section, Dazai wasn't throwing jokes or witty remarks, he was being serious. Because Dazai knows how desperately Chuuya wants to be human. He knows how important being human is to Chuuya.

Dazai wasn't manipulating Chuuya by giving him the chance to decide, we can see that Dazai was literally showing a lot of hesitation when mentioning this to him, we also get to see what Dazai was thinking, and we can tell he wasn't thinking about manipulative his movements in any way. All of this wasn't coming out of manipulation, it was coming out of pure care.

After six steps, Dazai reached the stair. He stepped on the stair and started walking down. Three steps down the stair, he heard a *clang*, a cool sound of metal echoing behind him. It sounded like the metal was kicked by the sole of someones shoes. The moment Dazai realized what the sound was, Dazai turned around in surprise.

There was already no one at the top.

Dazai was dazed for a moment, then he loosened his lips and laughed.

"Trying to act cool, huh?" Dazai smiled, both annoyed and relieved. Then he turned on his radio and sent out his order. "Chuuya has sallied, everyone get ready for battle."

I personally love this part so much, relief washed over Dazai the moment he noticed that Chuuya was going to go through with the first plan, which proves my point that he wasn't manipulating him and how Dazai was under a lot of stress because he wasn't sure if the alternative plan would be as effective as his original one.

Yet he still was willing to go through the alternative plan if Chuuya refused, because Dazai values him and regards his wellbeing.

Dazai was being surprisingly gentle in this section, he was being honest. There was no ulterior motive behind his actions here, just a boy looking after his partner.

"So i'm going to send an order to my men to prepare for action... Is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay." Chuuya turned to Dazai. "Why are you asking me such a thing?"

Dazai didn't answer right away.

That was an unusual expression. It's like he was trying to say something, but he had to arrange the words in his head to decide where he should start. An expression he rarely shows.

This was right before Dazai drops the bomb to Chuuya about the memory erasure command. He was even asking for Chuuya's opinion on sending his men to get ready, this was the first time Dazai ever showed actual concern without masking it with witty remarks. You can tell that Chuuya isn't used to this.

And when you think about it, when Dazai and Chuuya have missions together, Dazai always uses corruption as a last resort and he always allows Chuuya to make the decision if they will be using it or not.

I personally belive that the main reason Chuuya trusts Dazai with using corruption is because The Sheep used to exploit his powers too much, but Dazai leaves the decision to use corruption up to Chuuya. Dazai understands the physical and mental toll corruption takes on Chuuya and therefore leaves the choice up to him.

Theres another section in stormbringer that I really enjoy, it doesn't necessairly show solicitude but I still think this should still be taken into consideration:

"You seem pretty confident that Chuuya is human, don't you?"

"I am," Dazai laughed with a sigh. "There is no way a man-made code could create such a personality that I detest so much."

Throughout the whole story, Dazai is more than determined that Chuuya is human. The main reason Dazai finds Chuuya so intresting is because of how frighteningly human Chuuya can be, because of the fact that he always wears his emotions on his sleeves, something Dazai rarely does himself. Thats personally a nice sentiment from Dazai's end, even when Chuuya struggles completely when it comes to believing in his own humanity, Dazai still can't help but see him as a human being.

Also I am aware that Dazai literally said he detests Chuuya here but he also sighed and laughed while stating this, showing us that he isn't being serious about hating him.

And its not only in stormbringer were he shows his concern towards Chuuya. In fact, in this following manga pannel Dazai is telling Chuuya that if he is willing to listen him, he will stage his own escape so that Chuuya doesn't get punnished.

Honestly, if Dazai didn't care enough for Chuuya, he wouldn't have mentioned this to him. Chuuya didn't care enough to realize that he literally unwillingly freed Dazai which would get the pm mad at him, so the fact that Dazai is literally helping him out is no doubt out of care for him. If Dazai didn't have any regard for Chuuya he would've not staged his escape or mentioned anything to Chuuya, eventually incriminating him.

There are many misconceptions when it comes to Dazai's feelings towards Chuuya, people think that he doesn't care for him due to the fact that he left the Port Mafia, leaving Chuuya behind. But heres the thing: Dazai's intentions had nothing to do with Chuuya. He left the organization for his own good, he left it to fullfill Oda's wish.

"If Dazai cared for Chuuya then why didn't he take Chuuya with him?" the reason is simple, he knows how much the PM means to Chuuya. In stormbringer it is shown that Chuuya feels as if his humanity is attached to the people he is loyal to, in this case its the port mafia. Verlaine wanted to get rid of the pm because he believed that the pm is what kept Chuuya's humanity, eventually making Chuuya believe that he is only human if he stays loyal to the pm. Dazai knows this. Thats exactly why he didn't take Chuuya with him or even explains to Chuuya why he left, he knows it would be selfish to basically rip Chuuya's sense of humanity apart.

I have a feeling that if Dazai told Chuuya about the real reason he left the Port Mafia, Chuuya will not only feel conflicted about being in the pm, but he would also have an inner conflict with himself as a human.

People also think Dazai may not really care for him because of the fact that after the fight against Lovecraft he actualy deserted him, maybe that part was truly just supposed to be seen as simple humor, but either way I want to talk about it. Chuuya's only request to Dazai was to take him back to base safe, so why did Dazai leave Chuuya behind?

I mean he has carried Chuuya back to saftey before with no problem, for example in stormbringer when Chuuya uses corruption for the first time Dazai carries him back to the billiards bar and not to the mafia’s base so that he could say goodbye to his passing friends.

The reson behind this is because Mori needs to know that unlike Dazai, Chuuya is absolutely loyal to him. Leaving Chuuya the way he did will make Mori believe that these two really are at each others throats and that Dazai is insignificant to Chuuya. Making it seem that for Chuuya, the mafia comes first before anything else.

Therefore Dazai established Chuuya's saftey within the mafia since not only does Mori want these two to be hostile with each other, he doesn't want Chuuya to eventually turn against him if he truly found out more about Dazai's true reason of departure. Then again, this isn't canon but it is a logical assumption.

Not to mention that although Dazai did leave him behind, he folded Chuuya's coat and hat before taking his leave. There is also an an extra chapter where Ozaki Kouyou was talking with Chuuya but when he left he forgot his coat, which made Kouyou came across the coat; where she noticed a badge sewed inside saying "Name: Hatrack", she smiled fondly thinking to herself that some things just never change, in this case, Dazai and Chuuya's bond.

Dazai literally took his time to sew this into his coat just to tease him, it was a simple gesture but it shows us how their dynamic will never change. No matter what these two go through, they will always share a bond that consists on teasing, trust and underlying care.

All of this actually makes that theory of Dazai planting a bomb under Chuuya's car for the sole reason that the PM doesn't find Chuuya as an acomplice who aided Dazai on his escape much more feasable.

For Dazai to just plant a bomb under Chuuya's car with no motive makes no sense because if Dazai's true intentions were to simply mess with Chuuya, he would've most likely made it clear at that time. Dazai always has an underlying motive behind his actions, and in this case it is very likely that he did that for Chuuya's sake.

Don't get me wrong, I am aware that the bomb incident could've just been a comedic moment and I shouldn't look too much into it, but there is still a posibility, right?

These two hold so much trust and care for one another, yet they also hold a lot of bitterness and resentment. In the end the good aspects of their dynamic outweighs the bad.

Either you see these two in a platonic or romantic way, you can't tell me that their bond isn't significant.

Thank you so much for reading!! I wanted to talk about this for a while because I feel like people misinterpret Dazai's feelings towards Chuuya a lot so I hope this clears up things a bit<3

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chateautae · 4 years ago

Text

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.”

#underthemistletoe #kscwinter2020 #ksmutclub #thebtswritersclub #bangtanhq #kwritersworldnet #thetruthuntoldnet #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #taehyung scenario #taehyung oneshot #taehyung fanfiction #kim taehyung

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loudstan · 4 years ago

Text

Epiphany (P1. 13, FINALE)

A collection of NCT werewolf AU stories.

Doyoung (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt. 3) (pt. 4) (pt. 5) (pt. 6) (pt. 7) (pt. 8) (pt. 9) (pt. 10) (pt. 11) (pt. 12) (PT. 13 FINALE)

Summary: The wolf population kept decreasing and those who were left had a hard time trying to fit into society. Sure, people didn’t consider them as dangerous as vampires, but wolves could still sense some hostility every time they did as much as go for a walk in a public place. Thanks to wolves’ natural magical abilities, NCT (one of the remaining packs) found a safe place among witches in a town where no one knew their secret, allowing some members to finally get a job, study and interact with others without fear of being rejected.Life seems to finally be peaceful for them… except that wolves have needs, and one of those needs is finding their mate.

Pairing: Werewolf! Doyoung x Witch! female reader

Warnings: smut

“So you’re okay with this?” you asked

In awe, he nodded and you wasted no time.

You straddled him again and with no warning you pumped his length a couple of times, lined yourself up and started to sink down.

Desperately, Doyoung scratched the couch to the point he tore the soft fabric up, mumbling something you couldn’t quite comprehend.

If you weren’t so turned on you would have laughed at his weak attempt to stay still while you were sitting there, taking all of him. You thought that convincing him would be harder, but he was clearly about to lose it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to touch me?” you teased, giving a tentative bounce.

He sobbed and squirmed, still babbling nonsense.

“What was that?” you asked leaning closer so you could hear what you were sure was a string of curses and moans. Instead it was more coherent than you expected, and in Latin.

A spell?

You sat up just in time to see a dim light surrounding his wrists, glueing them efficiently to the couch.

“The handcuff spell? Seriously?” he was either being childish or kinky. Handcuffing himself with magic to control his wolf? “How long can you keep the spell going though?” you scoffed.

“I-it’s not up to m-me,” he sighed, slightly relieved that the spell had worked. “It will vanish once you say the password.”

“So, a safeword? Fine, what is it?”

“You’ll h-have to figure it out,” he had the audacity to smirk when he wanted this as much as you. Maybe even more than you, he was the one who got physical pain if he couldn’t have his mate.

“Have it your way,” you said, giving another bounce. “ Like I need your help to get off.”

“We’ll see a-about that.”

You decided not to argue anymore, quickening the pace instead and effectively turning him into a moaning mess. Or maybe the one moaning was you, you couldn’t quite tell at this point.

As the minutes went by and the air grew thicker, your whole body was trembling as you felt him grow inside of you.

“O-oh, god,” you panthed. “ Are you getting b-bigger? Is that your knot?”

Doyoung, who had been observing you with lidded eyes the entire time, finally had something to say.

“Uh, n-not yet. That’s just m-me…”

“Oh… but that means that knots...are a thing, right?

“Y-yeah, it normally happens during heats, but it can also happen if we...get really worked up,” he said, licking his lips. “ But it takes a while of uh...fucking for that to happen. You know, basic werewolf anatomy.”

You looked at where your bodies were connected, your mind completely blank. You had stopped listening after he confirmed he could indeed knot you. You had never thought you were into that before, but there was something so animalistic about being knotted that you could only think about that now.

With a new purpose in mind, you gathered the strength you had left and rode him hard. Doyoung looked at you with wide eyes.

“D-does that turn you on?” he asked in disbelief in between moans.

You whined and nodded. Normally you wouldn’t admit it, but your pride was long gone.

“Yeah? My needy little mate wants my knot? Oh- so g- ah! That feels so good, baby. Just like that, just like that,” Doyoung was also leaving all formality behind, seeing you so desperate for him.

His praises served you as motivation to continue moving, even though your legs had given out. Frustrated, you tried to force yourself to ride him, only managing to grind harsh and slow.

“I can’t, please!” you sobbed incoherently.

“Keep going. Keep fucking going. Come on baby, use me,” he encouraged you while trying his best to thrust his hips into you. He couldn’t fuck you properly if he couldn’t move freely, but it was better than nothing. You were willing to take anything.

“More, more please oh my god,” you gasped as he gave you a few more thrusts, mixed with the weak movements your body could offer in your state.

“Are you gonna cum soon, hmm?” he hissed. “A-re you satisfied?”

“No!” you wailed. You were oh so close, but you didn’t want to cum just yet. “Y-your knot, want your knot.”

“Fuck!” he growled and his member twitched inside of you. “I wanna breed you so bad. You’re mine, mine, mine-”

It was the possessiveness in his voice that had you reaching your climax and collapsing on top of him while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

“Good girl, you did so well. I love you so much.”

“Love you too,” you replied weakly, closing your eyes to welcome what you thought would be a long nap, when you heard a sudden snap and Doyoung’s arms surrounded your body.

“Finally,” he growled next to your ear and before you could even blink, he manhandled you so you were on your back under him.

“Wha-” you tried to question what had just happened when he connected his lips with yours into a passionate kiss.

“Did we really have to go this far for you to admit that you love me?” he asked between kisses. “I literally had to fuck the confession out of you.”

“T-that was the password?” you asked gasping when he kissed his way to your breasts.

“Not necessarily,” he delicately licked at one of your niples before sucking on it, moaning.. “The only condition was that you admit your true feelings for me, whether you felt something or not.”

He released the sensitive nub and gave it a last kiss before going back up and pinning your wrists above your head with just one of his large hands. His other hand travelled down to grab his member and without a warning he re-entered you.

You literally shrieked and squirmed under him.

“Too s-sensitive-AH!” your eyes rolled back when he pushed himself in deeper than he could when he was tied up.

“Shh, baby. Don’t you want my knot?” he purred, grabbing your hips and pulling you onto his cock again and again.

“Oh my god, ohmygod,” was all you could mumble.

“Fuck, you like that, baby?” he gritted as he lifted one of your legs and his pace accelerated.

The new angle and how deep he could reach now had you arching your back and letting out a silent scream.

He pulled his hips into him harder and faster, his knot slowly forming at the base of his length. He let out a shaky moan as he forced it inside of you, your mind too blinded with pleasure to feel any pain at first, but when the rest of it started growing inside of you, you panicked.

“It’s too big, s’ too much-please” you scratched his arms and back.

“Take it,” he simply said as his knot grew further while he fucked into you. “I’m gonna fill you up so good.”

Your entire body was shaking. You had never felt so full. And just when you thought the pleasure couldn’t be better than this, Doyoung gasped dramatically and halted his movements. Your eyes followed to where he was looking: at the very bottom of your belly there was a little bump.

“Y/n, look,” he said, caressing your belly as if he was hypnotized. “I’m so deep inside of you.”

“Fuck,” you were officially losing it now. Your locked your legs around his hips, trying to fuck yourself into him. “Give me your knot, give it to me.”

He didn't need to be told twice. He pulls you into him as he fucks forward as fast and hard as he can.

“You want it? You want me to cum right inside of you where I belong?”

“Yes! yes, yes,yes, yes, oh fuck!”

You spasmed around him and reached your high as he fucked you brutally. Right after, he fell forward, his knot squirting furiously inside of you as he let out a delirious laugh, lost in pleasure.

“Oh, y/n look at how good you take it,” he gritted while his hand reached for your clit and rubbed it quickly. “One more time, baby, cum for me one more time, come on.”

Sobbing desperately you felt another wave of pleasure hit you, your entire body trembling before you relaxed completely. You felt Doyoung panting next to your ear, before he started licking and sucking on the mark he had left there weeks ago.

It must be a wolf thing, you thought gaining back some of your long forgotten ability to think.

“Sorry. I'll remember to use a condom for the next round,” he said softly. “I’ll also get you plan B if we need it.”

“You’re lucky I’m on the pill. How many rounds are we talking about?” you asked breathlessly.

“Enough to fuck the attitude out of you-ouch!” he laughed when you hit his arm. “I don’t know, it could take one more round or we could be here all week.”

“Well, fuck.”

“Yep, fuck indeed.”

You two remained in silence for a few minutes before he broke the silence again.

“Can we please be together now? Like, really together. As a couple? I mean, we don’t have to, but-”

You bursted out laughing, but stopped when you saw the insecurity in his eyes. Seriously, only he could get insecure when his knot was locked inside of you.

“On one condition: I get an A for my last written assignment.”

He stared at you in disbelief before he let out a chuckle.

“I’ll reread and re-evaluate every single assignment you wrote this year, after I make you squirt.

“Deal.”

#nct doyoung #nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut #doyoung #doyoung smut #kim doyoung

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little-diable · 3 years ago

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Dripping Syrup - Tom Holland (smut)

Just a small fluffy tho smutty drabble. Remember your feedback and your comments are very much appreciated. Enjoy my loves. xx

Summary: Who would have thought that it would only take a few drops of syrup to push the two roommates closer together, finally falling into place in one another's embrace?

Warnings: 18+, shower sex, pretty fluffy, slight breeding kink

Pairing: Tom Holland x fem!reader (1.8k)

The sweet scent of muffins filled her nostrils as the first sun rays began to dance on her face. Slowly her eyes fluttered open, trying to catch a few more minutes of the morning bliss, but the loud “fuck” that echoed through the apartment ripped her from her drowsy state.

(Y/n) shot out of her bed, stumbling into the kitchen with her fuzzy socks sliding against the wooden flooring. There he stood, chest bare, legs hidden beneath a pair of dark sweatpants. Tom kept jumping around the kitchen, trying to cool his aching finger without letting the sizzling pan out of his gaze.

The chuckle that spilled from her lips ripped him out of his frantic state, eyes meeting hers. He couldn’t help but let them wander, down the exposed legs she hadn’t covered just yet. Deep down he felt his adrenaline shooting through his veins, what a view, a view he could certainly get used to.

“Morning to you too.” (Y/n) stepped closer, reaching for her coffee cup before pressing a small kiss to his burning cheek. Tom wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her against his half naked frame, holding onto her for dear life. The sweet scent of her shampoo stuck to him, pushing him back into the daydream he’d slip into as he would take a shower, imagining her body pressed against his.

“I made us some pancakes.” The boyish grin he wore left her heart jumping in delight, eager to spend her morning with the roommate she had been crushing on for weeks. From the second she had moved into the apartment there had been some kind of tension between them, growing with each rising of the sun, strengthening their bond with each wakening of the moon and the twinkling stars.

“You’re a lifesaver.” (Y/n) smiled at the plate he pushed into her free hand, settling down on their sofa. Slowly Tom began to prepare a plate for himself, making sure to place himself right next to her. As if they had studied this routine for days, (y/n) moved her legs towards his, keeping him chained to her, moaning at the taste of the pancakes.

Both ate in silence, sharing glances every now and then - with widening smiles on their lips. How they ached to feel one another, hoping to experience what they were oh so needy for.

She had her eyes focused on his lips, watching the small drops of syrup that stuck to his skin, dripping onto his plate. (Y/n) couldn’t stop her hand from moving towards his chin, collecting the sweet drops. His eyes followed her thumb, how she brought it towards her mouth, sucking it clean. A gasp rolled off his tongue, filling the silence like a book that crashed from the shelf, falling onto the floor with a loud thud.

Suddenly both snapped into action, plates getting placed down on their small table, heads moving closer. Something about this moment, about this morning, felt all too good to be true, like a dream they had managed to turn real, like a written page ripped out of a book, allowing them to experience the stories only heroes would get to live through.

Their lips met clumsily at first, trying to get used to one another’s skin, the feeling of their burning vessels pressed together. But the longer they kissed, the more they fell into place. Tom tugged her into his lap, sucking on her tongue to hold onto the sweet taste of the syrup, mixed with the coffee she had sipped on.

(Y/n) gave him a slight push back, allowing him to rest comfortably on his back with her straddling his waist. Not once did they break apart, lips hungrily chasing one another, hoping that their moment wouldn’t end just yet, they hadn’t reached the end of the chapter, couldn’t stop the story as it was just starting to take on its pace.

Cold hands found their way underneath her shirt, stroking along her sides to move closer to her bare chest. (Y/n)’s hips met his, rubbing her core against him, all too excited to overthink her movement, not once did she wonder where her confidence came from. Tom made her feel things she would only read about in the books she would find comfort in, the lives she longed to live.

“I don’t think I can stop myself if we go any further.” His raspy voice shot shivers down her spine, vibrating on her middle with an electric buzz following shortly after. “Don’t stop, please.”

Her whimpers rang in his ears, hands wandering to her behind, gripping her close. He rose from his position, didn’t want to take it further on the couch, wanted to offer her as much comfort as possible. But as her eyes found the clock above their counter, she mumbled his name, stopping him from walking towards his room.

“Class starts in an hour, how about we shower together?” The sly grin she wore on her lips found its way onto his swollen ones, feet changing their direction towards his bathroom, stumbling right into it. He placed her down on his sink, making sure that she wouldn’t fall before he turned on the shower.

Tom stepped out of his trousers, underwear barely hiding his hardening cock, the outlines that left her mouth watering. Greedy hands reached for him, pulling him flush against her frame, kissing him again as he tugged on her shirt. Her naked upper body burned in heat, his strong gaze studied every inch of her skin, making sure to perpetuate the view in front of him in his mind.

“You’re beautiful, absolutely beautiful.” His accent thickened with each word he spoke, projecting him losing power over his senses. (Y/n) pulled on the waistband of his boxer shorts, letting the elastic snap against his skin. The cheeky grin she shot him seemed to push him into the right direction, undressing himself with some kind of arrogance and confidence laced in his glance.

She didn’t waste any more time, hopped down from the sink and undressed herself, stepping into the shower without giving him a chance to admire her. But Tom was just as impatient, following her into the steam filled cabin, hands pushing her against the cold shower tiles.

Water cascaded down their bodies, leaving their skin glistening. His hands cupped her breasts, squeezing her nipples, while her hands moved closer to his cock, making sure to tease him before she would touch him. Slowly she wrapped her fingers around him, pumping him, stroking his every vein.

“I need you-” a small moan left her as he tweaked her nipple. “I need you to fuck me.” The growl that clawed through him left her clit pulsing in excitement, walls fluttering around nothing, praying that he would finally give in. (Y/n) had lost count on how many times she had touched herself to the thought of him, trying to imagine how his cock would split her in half, leaving his marks as she would climb higher and higher.

“Somebody’s impatient.” How foolish he was. Both felt impatient enough to cry out in frustration, wondering who would make the next and final move. He dipped his head under the stream, wetting his hair before he gave her a harsh tug, hand moving around her throat. Tom held her in place as he brushed his length through her folds, toying with her for a few seconds too long.

She growled his name, holding onto the last drops of air that lingered in her lungs, burning with each breath she took. Just as she felt herself passing out, losing focus on the man in front of her he gave in, loosening his grip, pushing into her tightness.

Their moans got mixed together, dancing around the room while they tried to adjust to one another. His cock perfectly filled her, her walls hugged him tightly, a perfect match for the two that had fallen in love days, weeks, months ago.

“Feels so good, fuck, you’re so tight.” His breath crashed against her lips, Tom grasped her leg, hugging it around his waist, slowly beginning to pull out of her. He was careful at first, making sure that (y/n) felt comfortable and safe, not wanting to hurt her. But as his name fell off her lips, urging him on to fuck her roughly against the tiles, he snapped into motion, making sure that he would coax the most powerful orgasm out of her.

“Tom, please-” (y/n) tried to grasp his hand, pulling it closer to her aching clit, the sensitive bundle of nerves that begged for his attention. Soft fingers met her skin, circling her in the right tempo to match his ferocious thrusts, cock slipping in and out of her as if he was fucking her on their last day on earth.

Their bodies meded together, like snow that met the ground on a warm day, like water that met other bodies to follow the stream to the ocean. They fitted together perfectly. His heavy pants filled her ears, followed by her own moans. Soon they would reach the high they had always dreamt of, bodies connected in the most intimate way.

“Look at me, want you to look at me when you cum.” (Y/n) couldn’t protest, glassy eyes found his. She moved one hand up to the one he left placed around her throat, holding onto him to stabilize her trembling frame.

“Fill me up, god, please.” She kept on blabbering, too drunk on his taste and the adrenaline she worked on. But Tom found pleasure in her words, moaning in confirmation, urging on his thrusts, adding more pressure to her clit with his thumb. He would push her over the edge, would make her wait for his release while she would scream out his name.

“There you go, let go for me.” Like a guiding hand in the darkness he clung to her, allowing her to cum on his cock, walls fluttering around his length. She pulled him closer, making sure that he wouldn’t let go, that he would follow her words and paint her walls white. Her head fell against his shoulder, breathing against his skin as Tom’s orgasm took over every inch of his body.

His warmth filled her, cum dripping down her legs, bodies trying to come down from their powerful highs. Neither of them moved, both stayed placed in the shower, bodies still connected like their hearts.

Today they would cling to one another, would make sure to savor their moments together, fueled by the fire they had awoken in the shower, a fire both would try to keep alight till their last breaths would leave their love drunken souls.

Follow my sideblog @little-diableswriting for taglist reblogs

#Tom Holland smut #Tom Holland imagine

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starlessea · 3 years ago

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𝐅𝐨𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 - Part 1

A/N This is part 1/2 of a collab with the amazing @whitexwingedxdoves! The first part is in Daryl’s POV, and the second will be in the reader’s. Part 2 is here.

Summary: Daryl Dixon was a good hunter, but there were still some things that he struggled to find. Such as the patience to deal with you.

You wore a rabbit’s foot keyring, but Daryl thought you were the furthest thing from lucky. After all, you ended up stuck with him, too.

Words: 3974

Daryl never really expected Judith to take an interest in hunting; she was far too sweet.

But then again, so were you - and Daryl had never met anyone who could make a better twitch-up snare. Though, he preferred using bow traps, himself, when he had the arrows to spare for them.

Takes more skill, he’d argue, and watch you shake your head vehemently at him - as though you couldn’t disagree more.

You hadn’t changed since then; you were just as stubborn, if not worse. But Daryl definitely had, even if he didn’t want to admit it. You had changed him. He wasn’t the same man who’d first stumbled through the gates of Alexandria all those years back, scowling at your traps which got in his way and stole his game; nor was he the same person who insisted on butting heads with you until he got a migraine.

Daryl Dixon had grown since then.

And that was probably the reason why he was stuck crawling through the forest on all fours, teaching Judith Grimes how to set a twitch-up snare (and not a bow trap).

“Now what?” she asked him, adjusting that sheriff’s hat which was still a little too big for her.

Daryl could remember the first time he’d placed it on her head, and tipped it up to get a glimpse of her gummy smile. She’d been so small back then; she still was.

He held out his rope in front of him, weaving it slowly so that she could follow the steps. It felt natural to Daryl’s hands, like he’d done it a thousand times over. He probably had, but he could remember a time where he’d been the student - and you were his teacher.

“Make the ears an’ weave the end through ‘em,” he instructed.

Just like a rabbit, you’d told him, and laughed.

He felt his lips twitch a little, but Daryl bit back his smile. Instead, he watched as Judith made a mistake - and he let her. That was the best way to learn, after all.

The young girl pulled a face at the tangled rope in her fists, wondering where she’d gone wrong. Then, she looked up at her uncle Daryl for the answers.

“It doesn’t look right,” she noted, showing it to him.

It didn’t. It definitely looked more like a dog with stubby ears than a rabbit.

Daryl shook his head gently, confirming her suspicions. “Give it here,” he mumbled, and carefully took the half-formed knot into his lap.

Judith shuffled over to get a closer look, and Daryl took his time in showing her how to correct it. He remembered when his father and brother would try and ‘teach’ him something new - which usually involved berating him until he was too anxious to ever mess it up again.

He hoped he was a better teacher than that.

“Ya folded it wrong,” he explained, pointing to that part of the fraying rope. He unwove it, and tucked it back into the right place. “See, ya fold the loop over itself to make the ears.”

Judith watched intently, holding her breath as she tried to memorise the steps. Then, Daryl undid the rope, and she let out a yell in protest. But Daryl just shrugged, and smiled a little to himself. She’d need to figure it out on her own if she was going to learn - as much as he wished he’d always be there to help her.

Daryl handed the rope back, and watched as she fumbled with it again; but this time, she didn’t make the same mistake.

“Who taught you how to do this?” she asked, eyes still trained in her lap as she spoke.

Daryl was silent for a few seconds, as if debating whether to tell her. He could already picture the triumphant look on your face.

He sighed. “This knot? Your aunt did.”

His words came out muffled, but Judith was still able to decipher them. In response, she smiled a smile that looked much too familiar - reminding him of another Grimes kid when he was up to no good.

“I thought you knew how to hunt before that,” she chirped, purposefully not meeting Daryl’s eyes as he narrowed them at her.

Damn girl’s gettin’ cheeky, he thought.

And this time, he didn’t pull her up on her mistake. Maybe she deserved to do the knot over once more.

“Mhm. I did,” Daryl answered naturally, as though her teasing tone didn’t bother him in the slightest. “Jus’ hunted in a different way is all.”

Judith looked up at him, and cocked her head to the side.

Yeah, he thought, she’s growin’ up jus’ like Carl.

“Which way’s better?” she asked curiously, as though forgetting the messy knot in her lap.

Daryl sat back on his hands, feeling his palms meet the damp leaves of the thick, forest overgrowth. That question had been the one that started it all. The sky was beginning to darken, and he knew that he should be getting back home soon. You always did give him one hell of an ear-full whenever he was late.

He smiled at the girl, before nodding in the direction of the abandoned knot - prompting her to try again.

“Depends on who ya ask.”

Daryl let loose his arrow and listened to it whirr through the air, and strike that possum straight down from its tree. Carol grimaced as he collected it, picking the animal up by its tail and slinging it over his shoulder as they walked. He would have made some remark back at her - but he just didn’t have the energy.

None of them did, really.

That’s why he’d shot the possum. He still wasn’t convinced by the promised land that Aaron had tried to sell to them - a place called Alexandria - so at least they’d have something to eat if it fell through.

It usually always did.

Every time Daryl felt like he had a solid footing on the ground beneath him, it somehow always managed to find a way to cave. First there was the farm, then the prison, and finally Terminas. These days, he just couldn’t catch a break.

But he could catch possum, he thought, and trudged on along the road.

The gates to Alexandria reminded him of the prison - those wire lattice fences and the metal bars that stretched up to the sky. It was like a damn cage, but Daryl had somehow gotten used to living in those.

What he could never get used to was the sight of those faces, looking down on him as though he was something they’d stepped in whilst navigating the side-walk. He was familiar with those looks by now - he’d gotten plenty of them back in Georgia even before the world had ended - but they never failed to make him feel a certain shame he didn’t like to admit to.

This time, though, he may have deserved them.

It took him a while to realise that their eyes weren’t actually on him, but rather lingering on that dead possum - still hanging by its tail. Then a woman stepped forward, with an air about her that made Daryl think that she was the leader. Although, it definitely wasn’t the same air he felt when he was around Rick.

“We’ll need to interview you, so that we can assign you all jobs,” she said warmly.

And Daryl laughed a bitter laugh he didn’t realise he’d been holding back - but once he let it out, he felt much better. From the moment he’d stepped foot into Alexandria, Daryl Dixon already had a job.

It was to try and keep the rest of these idiots alive.

Deanna’s office was stuffy; with too many dusty books and not enough fresh air, it nearly made Daryl forget how to breathe. He’d almost knocked that camera straight from its tripod, too - until Rick shot him a warning look against it.

“He’s a hunter and a damn good one,” the man quickly interjected, his hands falling into place on his hips.

Daryl lifted his chin with pride at the sheriff’s words. Hunting was the one thing he could confidently offer to the group; it was second nature to him. He could also tell that Deanna held Rick in high regard, so to hear him praise Daryl like that only proved his worth.

But she remained skeptical. “I can see that, but we already have one of those.”

The woman was assertive, that’s for sure.

She crossed her arms at her chest and examined the limp possum that swung proudly from Daryl’s shoulder. Though, she didn’t seem to share that same enthusiasm for his skill. Daryl shuffled on his feet, and repositioned the possum on his shoulder as if trying to shake off her judgemental looks.

“Just the one?” Carol piped up, from the doorway.

She had a good point; only one hunter for the whole of Alexandria?

It didn’t seem to add up quite right in Daryl’s head - and from the look on his face, it didn’t convince Rick, either.

“We’ve never needed more than that.” Deanna replied curtly, her lips pursing into a tight line. Daryl couldn’t help but scowl at the pride in her voice.

Bullshit, he thought.

“Well if you ask me, you’d be making a mistake not giving him that title,” Rick cautioned, but again his words seemed to be lost on the woman standing before them.

Deanna shook her head. “No, that’s not all he has to offer,” she said quietly.

Daryl felt a chill wrack up his spine as she stared right through him - as if trying to figure him out.

“I’ll find a job for you, but in the meantime feel free to join our hunter,” she continued, decisively.

Daryl tried his best not to scowl. Perhaps he would do just that, and show Alexandria what they were missing without having him hunt for them.

Maybe he’d even bring back a feast.

The interviews took up a hefty while, but Daryl promised Rick he would accompany him on a perimeter check whilst it was still light out - before the rest of the group settled down for the night. Even with those tall fences, he wanted to make sure there were no cracks - inside or out - for walkers to slip through.

The interior of Alexandria seemed secure, but beyond those sturdy gates was a world they hadn’t accounted for. Daryl toed each steel beam with his boot, as Rick started to dispatch the undead stragglers that lingered a little too close.

A regular culling, he called it.

They’d tried to implement that at the prison, too, but their defences had been only a tenth as sturdy as Alexandria’s. So, Daryl helped the officer, aiming his crossbow at the walkers nearby - even the ones that were caught on car doors, trapped.

He even went out of his way to follow the footsteps he came across, left so blatantly that they disturbed the mud and leaves - allowing him to track them clear as day. Rick accompanied him, knife in hand and pistol still holstered on his belt.

Then, a twig snapped.

“Son of a-” the officer cursed, and Daryl whipped his head back.

There was rope caught around his boot, and it only tightened the more he tried to twitch his foot free.

“The hell is that?” Rick cursed, looking over at him for an answer.

Tha’s a damn snare, Daryl realised, and pulled out his pocket knife to cut the other man loose.

He narrowed his eyes; it was constructed well. The knots were tight and the trigger reacted as it should have. But it still wasn’t as efficient as the types of traps Daryl used.

“Damn twitch-up, nothin’ but trouble,” he replied, crouching down to free Rick’s boot, “don’t catch nothin’.”

But a voice retorted just as quick.

“Caught your friend just fine!”

Daryl flinched, and dropped the knife in favour of the crossbow slung over his back. He hadn’t even heard her. He trained his weapon on the woman, but soon lowered it at the sight of her - unarmed.

“Would appreciate if you removed your dumb foot from my trap,” she yelled, pointing to Rick’s combat boot - still floundering in the rope like a fish on a line.

Daryl sighed. So this was Alexandria’s hunter.

She carried a big leather satchel, and had a string of woven rope circled over her shoulder. Daryl also noticed the charm hanging from her bag - a tattered rabbit’s foot. It was appropriate, that’s for sure. But he wondered how she’d even been able to catch one with such temperamental traps.

Daryl bent down near the twitch-up again. He knew how to disable it, but Rick had already damaged some parts with his heavy steps as he struggled to get it loose. So, he just glanced back at the woman over his shoulder, and made a show of cutting through the rope with his pocket blade.

“Ain’t worth the hassle,” he muttered, once he was done.

He could tell from her face that she wasn’t impressed. She stalked over to him and shot them both a look so fierce that Daryl thought her eyes might roll back into her head.

“And who the hell are you?” she asked - but it was more of a demand.

Daryl had heard enough of that tone today. He was already sick of the false authority Alexandria had exuded over them. So, he ignored her question.

He pointed at the ruined trap, instead. “If officer clumsy over ‘ere broke yer trap in two seconds, then walkers could spring it in one,” Daryl remarked.

The woman scoffed, crouching down to retrieve the rope.

“Maybe that’s the point,” she snapped back, “keeps them away from the fences.”

You’re lying, Daryl thought. It seemed like everyone around here had too much damn pride.

“Nah it aint,” he argued, shaking his head. “Tha’s what them car doors were for.”

He’d noticed it earlier - the way the vehicles were all parked along the perimeter of Alexandria, doors wide open and windows down to bait the walkers and snag them there. They weren’t perfect, though, since a few had still slipped through.

The woman went silent, and Daryl felt a small smile tug at his lips as he watched for her reaction.

“Yer tryna catch rabbits with these,” he concluded.

He’d expected her to admit defeat - maybe even ask for his help since it was clear he knew what he was talking about.

But, she didn’t.

The hunter shook her head straight back at him, and flipped open that worn leather satchel - pulling out a rabbit by its foot.

“Not just trying,” she corrected, with a smirk much more full than the one Daryl had dared to wear.

Rick let out a sound under his breath, but he still heard it. Daryl scowled in return. There were still plenty of traps better than that old-fashion twitch-up.

“Ya coulda caught more with-” he started, but she cut him off.

“Just who’d you think you are, again?”

This took Daryl aback, and he was stunned into silence. Already, he couldn’t stand the arrogance of these people. His jaw clenched, and Rick seemed to pick up on the unsettling quietness. So, the man cleared his throat and stepped forward.

“This is Daryl,” he announced, clapping his hand down onto his shoulder. “Best hunter I know.”

The woman wordlessly stuffed the rabbit back into her bag, leaving its ears to flop out over the side. Then, she looked between him and the officer, with an expression that got completely under Daryl’s skin.

“Well then I guess you only know one,” she laughed.

Daryl couldn’t quite remember how the rest of the story went. Over time, the details became as hazed in his mind as the sight of freshly fallen snow - obscuring any tracks he might try to follow. The only thing he could briefly recall was the different animals they had hunted during their time at Alexandria.

Yes, he could remember it now.

After that first rabbit, there had been a fox - caught right in the dead of winter.

“Should have guessed you were a bowman!”

Daryl sighed and stopped in his tracks. For someone so bothersome, that woman was remarkably quiet.

He picked up the red fox, which looked more of a gingerish colour against the snow, and twisted his arrow until it became dislodged from its side. A few blood spatters trickled out onto the ground, landing in perfect circles - like red wax seals against white paper.

“Gets the job done quick and easy,” Daryl grumbled, slinging the fox over his shoulder by its bushy tail.

The woman watched him, leant up against a tree with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Oh now you’re starting to sound like my dad!” she laughed, and padded along after Daryl as he turned to leave.

Recently, the two hunters would sometimes run into each other like this - and Daryl had started to expect the company.

“Ya ol’ man teach you those god awful traps?” he rasped, his voice coming out as puffs of smoke in the cool air.

The woman jabbed him in his side, and Daryl scowled.

“No, actually that was my uncle,” she corrected, looking down at her feet as they made imprints in the snow.

Daryl glanced over at the woman, and narrowed his eyes. He just couldn’t figure her out yet.

“Ya whole damn family hunters?” he questioned, and she laughed again.

For someone so stuck up, her laugh was shy. - as though she were scared of it.

She nodded. “Some girls got Barbies for Christmas. I got a boning knife.”

And some kids got nothin’, Daryl thought.

They walked together back to Alexandria, mostly in silence - save from the crunching of their boots as they stepped heavily through the snow. Daryl kept catching that rabbit foot charm in his peripheral, swinging from the woman’s satchel as she stepped. He also noticed just how red her nose had gotten, and how it occasionally twitched from the cold.

“What ya doin’ out ‘ere?” Daryl eventually asked. “Too cold for rabbits,” he remarked.

They reached the gates, and the woman stopped as she waited for the guard to open them.

“Was tracking a fox,” she replied, eyes settling on the reddish fur bunched up between Daryl’s fingers. “But it looks like you beat me to it.”

After that, once the snow thawed and spring had come around, the next hunt had been for a deer - and Daryl was called upon to help her carry it back.

Thought they only needed one hunter, Daryl cursed, as he readjusted the deer’s hooves in his grip.

He could have easily carried the animal himself, but she was stubborn and insisted she share the weight. He watched as she struggled to hold the back end of the deer, propping it up every so often to relieve the strain on her arms - that damn rabbit’s foot flailing about from her satchel.

“Why the rabbit’s foot?” Daryl finally spoke, breaking the silence between her exaggerated grunts.

“It’s lucky” she managed to huff, before admitting defeat and letting her end drop to the floor.

Daryl took that as his cue to pick the deer up himself, and sling it around the back of his neck. He couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth twitch into a smirk at her disappointed stance - but he knew better than to say anything.

“Didn’t you keep the brush?”

Daryl cocked his brow at her question, taking slow steps back towards Alexandria.

“You know the fox’s tail?” she finally cleared up, matching his speed.

“Why? They lucky too?” he quipped back.

He didn’t intend for it to sound so sarcastic.

“I don’t think so,” she sighed, “but they’re pretty!” A small giggle passed her lips, which only made Daryl roll his eyes

This was Alexandria’s big scary hunter.

“Could swap it out for that damn rag you take everywhere,” she teased, nodding her head towards his back pocket.

Daryl watched the way her lips pressed together in a thin line, as if holding back the urge to let out yet another laugh. He scoffed.

Rags were practical; rabbit’s feet and fox’s tails were not.

During the rest of the trip back home, she would go on to tell him the story of how she’d caught that particular rabbit’s foot; it was a story he had since misplaced - but he still remembered the way her eyes lit up as she told it.

Looking back, that deer had been the last thing they’d caught - in Alexandria, at least. Though, Daryl could remember what they had been hunting for when it happened.

Damn rabbits.

The grass was thick and overgrown. Neither of them had explored the area yet - a little ways out from Alexandria. She’d told Daryl about it the night before, claiming to have stumbled upon it in the daytime. The woman swore that she could barely take a step without tripping over one of the dozens of burrows she’d found there.

Daryl wasn’t quite convinced, but he followed her nonetheless.

“You can’t be serious!” she exclaimed, looking over at Daryl much too expressively. “Fox meat? Over rabbit?”

It’s too early for this, Daryl thought, catching sight of her lopsided grin.

“Tastes better,” he mumbled back, navigating through the long foxtail grass and thickets that were up to his waist.

The woman looked over her shoulder and shook her head at him. Daryl reminded her to keep on walking, or let him lead if all she was going to do was trip him up.

She ignored him. “No! Foxes taste like pennies,” she argued, waving her hands around like she had a point to prove. “You know, that weird metallic-”

The woman stopped, and cocked her head at him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she remarked, and Daryl felt as though he couldn’t even keep up with the conversation.

“I ain’t even lookin’ at ya,” he bit back - frustrated.

Daryl could barely recall how the hunter had gone from being so reserved back when they had first met, to whatever the hell was standing before him now.

Bark worse than ‘er bite, tha’s for damn sure.

She ran on ahead, and Daryl followed her tracks in the long grass until they reached that deserted area - so quiet that it almost unsettled him. There wasn’t even a breeze; it was as though the world was completely still.

Unnaturally so.

“See!” the hunter exclaimed, triumphantly. “I told you, it’s completely untouched.”

She had that same, smug look on her face as she did when he first met her - entirely proud of herself. But for once, it didn’t bother Daryl in the slightest.

He shook his head, but it was more out of habit than anything else. “Won’t be for long,” he chided, “best keep quiet or yer gonna scare ‘way the game.”

The woman laughed at him, less timidly than how she used to.

“I know how-” she started, but Daryl never did find out what she was going to say.

A loud metallic sound rang through the open air, and the hunter disappeared from his sight, as though sucked into the ground beneath her. In a matter of seconds, she’d gone from laughing so carefree to becoming lost in the tall grass - leaving Daryl behind to only listen to her scream.

Daryl knew that sound; he couldn’t mistake the clang of those metal jaws as they clamped shut.

Feedback is always welcomed; I love hearing what you all think - so feel free to comment, send in an ask, or just message me if you want to chat!

Bear trap, he realised, and ran through the foxtails to find her.

Also, if you enjoy my writing, you might want to buy me a coffee or commission me - tips are always appreciated. Thank you for reading!

A/N I really hope you enjoyed reading this. It is one of my favourites so far. And it has truly been a joy working with @whitexwingedxdoves. Make sure you stay tuned for part 2!

Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the tags!

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jojotichakorn · 3 years ago

Note

Heyo

It's unhinged hours now. I have a contributing factor that could help with the Paa moving in mystery that erases the time jump. Consider:

Their parents must go on a trip somewhere that requires Paa to live with Pat, hence the bed movement, hence the curtains.

And also cause it's Paa, she could 100% just be like "I'm living here for now, so let's brighten up your dumbass room, ya cretin!"

But again, could be anything at this point.

Also, v small point. I caught a gif made by a lovely on here that I cannot remember their name right now, but it got me thinking about fun parallels. Pat very much seems like the type of person that once an idea works for him, he applies it to everything it could concern. So, in ep 5, Paa's words resonate with him internally, and he discovers that it's the truth, hence the 'oh' moment.

What I find marvellous is that among the many wonderful communication methods Pat tries in ep 6, he is also looking for the Paa confirmation in Pran. Now, it's very subtle, and it is rather overshadowed by Pat's other attempts, but you can kind of see it. Starts in the paper game, with touch. Continues onto the beach scene, with touch, then the eyes as he asks questions. He's looking for it, but Pran doesn't fully look at him properly unless egged on until the beach scene. But it's all among other attempts to talk to Pran fully, so it's kind of lost.

And then the deciding factor, being that Pat lays down the gauntlet of "I don't think I'm interested in Ink." Pran's immediate folllow up question of interest in what Ink is to him confirms both the third and fouth factors, he's interested if he's taken and the fact that Pran has been acting out of character this whole time. Which is why he was so delighted when he turned back and started teasing. Pran (mostly) non-verbally confirmed that he's at least as interested as Pat, which is why, combining Pat's loving way of allowing them to explore what they have in their own space with the bet and what he believes is a confirmation of at least feelings, we are going to collectively expire in less than 12 hours.

*jazz hands* How'd I do?

Reliable Anon

hello, my lovely reliable anon!! glad to spend these last unhinged hours with u <3

i LOVE ur pa theory, it makes sense and - most importantly - doesn't require a time jump, so i am rooting for u to be correct (which, it wouldn't be the first time for you).

also holy shit, you are absolutely correct!! he has been trying to get into his space and be close to him the entire episode, trying to see how he'd react to the casual touches and the closeness, and then the fucking eye contact in the newspaper scene, of course. i know we were all glad that pat verbally confirmed he doesn't like ink, but he said it as such an afterthought that it makes all the sense in the world that he was first and foremost trying to see how pran would react to it, if he would care. and then, of course, him pointing out how pran was being even more distant and annoyed by him than usual after the kiss, which confirms the whole "can't be themself around you" thing. this is also why pat is currently sure he only made pran confused about his feelings towards him, and has no fucking clue that he's been consciously in love with him for years, because he doesn't realize that this change in his behavior isn't due to his feelings per say, but more due to them suddenly being reciprocated. i think it would be hilarious if we got a scene where pat looks back on their past and instantly sees all the signs of pran liking him that whole time. it would be very much "babe, you had a crush on me? that's embarrassing!" - "pat, we are dating :/" - "still!"

#you did incredible as usual babes i love everything about this #bad buddy #archer responds #reliable anon

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writefasttalkevenfaster · 4 years ago

Text

Aaron Hotchner / Worth Your While

Prompts: The Beard Hotch Fic™ - inspired by that one episode where hotch has a beard and all of us collectively lost our minds

Word count: 3.728

Warnings: E, phone sex, mutual masturbation, beard kink (i guess that’s a thing??), oral (f receiving), i don’t know just smut

Image Credit: @agenthotchner

“Still don’t know when you’re coming back?”

A sigh floated through the phone, “Not yet,” you hum, climbing into bed on top of your covers, your legs folded underneath you. You hear his cot creak underneath him. You hummed, as you placed your pillow beside you, if you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine that he was lying there beside you.

“Enjoying the hot Pakistani desert a bit too much, Hotch?” a small chuckle leaves his throat, voice gruff over the line.

“I would enjoy it a lot more if you and Jack were with me,” your chest aches at the sound of the weariness in his voice. He was so tired — and now you couldn’t even take care of him. Another sigh leaves his lips, before he adds, a ghost of a laugh in his voice, “although he’s not a fan of the beard.”

You raise your eyebrows, “Really?”

“His exact words were, ‘do they not sell razors there, Dad?’” you snort, turning onto your side, “I think I’m going to shave it off before I get back.”

“Ah let’s not rush it,” you bit your lip, running your fingers over your bare neck, “why don’t we ask for some other opinions before we jump to conclusions?”

You could practically hear his eyebrow raise over the phone, “And what’s your opinion, sweetheart?” his voice is low and scratchy, and you can almost imagine his fingers tucking your hair behind your ear as he murmured the question against your neck.

You feel a heat begin to climb up your neck, and down your body, “I don’t think you should shave,”

“You don’t think?” he presses, and you hear the cot groan again as he shifts, “or I shouldn’t?”

“You shouldn’t,” you swallowed, fingers drifting down to the waistband of your shorts, “not until you see me again.”

“And what are you going to do when you see me again?” you whimper, fingers past the elastic of your shorts, your fingers drift against your soaked panties, “answer me.” You gasp his name as your fingers circle your clit, “are you touching yourself?”

“Yes,” you say, breath uneven as he shifts in his cot again, more this time, “I need you, Aaron, I—”

“Call me on video call,” he hisses, and you know his fingers are around his length, the video call feed only confirming it, “see what you do to me,” his pants are gruff and short, “show me what you’re doing.” You flip the camera from your face to the middle of your thighs, your hand hidden beneath the fabric of your obviously drenched underwear, “Pull those off, I want to see you. I want to see exactly what I’m doing to you.”

Your underwear slides down your thighs, slowly, as you lift your hips for the camera. And his breath hitches when he sees you — soaking wet and two fingers deep in your pussy, “Aaron, fuck, I miss you—”

“What do you miss?” there’s an edge to his voice, an urgency, but still, his voice is hushed and quiet, tension thrumming in the air, “tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Is that an order, sir?” and you hear him groan quietly over the phone that hangs in the silence of the desert.

“Fuck, yes, it is,” he growls, and he hears a quiet hum leave your throat, and he knows you’re enjoying this — all too much, but not as much as if he were actually there. If he had two thick fingers pressed inside of you. His mouth swallowing all the little noises leaving your throat, until his lips sucked dark bruises against the hollow of your throat.

“I would want you to pin me down, your fingers parting my thighs,” quick gasps part your lips, filling the silence of his tent, and you wonder — could someone hear you if you were just a little too loud? Could a colleague hear your desperate cries of his name, you begging him for his cock, his mouth, his fingers — anything, “feel your beard against my thighs as you wrap your tongue around my clit, fingers inside me, like mine are now—” Your fingers sink deeper, adding another with a loud gasp, your hips rolling against your hand, “and I’d cum all over your face.” His beard slick with your cum, as he kisses you again, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue.

“Then, you want me to fuck you hard, don’t you?” a helpless whine parts your throat at his words, low and sharp, “But still, I’d sink into you, slowly, let you feel every inch of myself part you — wet and tight — for me.”

You arch your back against your bed, Only for him.

“Aaron, please, I need to see you — see your face—” You’re close — he doesn’t need to see your face to know that. And you know he hears it — hears you preen against you, and in the quiet silence of your bedroom, and his hand squeezes his cock. Fuck, and he abides by your request — shows you his face contorted in quietly controlled pleasure, his teeth against his bottom lip, until he hears you.

“Aaron, I’m—” he groans, far too loud for the quiet desert and conscious colleagues that surrounded him. But it only further pushes you over the edge, thinking about that groan in your ear, pressing kisses against your neck, fucking you hard and fast until your walls tighten around your fingers, phone falling from your hand. But not before you hear him say your name, reverent and breathy.

Your fingers begin to still, the feeling of your fingers carrying you through your orgasm, chest rising and falling in quick pants. Your body slumps against your mattress, boneless, eyes squeezed shut. That is, until you hear a voice on the phone.

“Fuck,” you mutter, reaching for the phone, “sorry, did you say something?”

“I love you,” he murmurs, voice deep and blissed out — and you can almost feel the words of love vibrate against your skin, “I miss you, so much.”

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder?” you offer, flipping the camera so he could see your face, “but phone sex definitely helps.”

A smile pulls at his lips, “It does, but it’s not enough.”

“No, nothing compares to the real thing,” you sigh, rolling over on your bed, “but luckily, the real thing is waiting for you when you get back,” and then you add, “Just don’t shave the beard.”

He runs a hand through his beard, “Yes ma’am. You’ll make it worth my while?”

You grin, tilting your head, “Don’t I always?”

~~~

Hotch leaned against the headrest of the airplane seat, stuffed between two sleeping passengers — this was certainly different than using the jet. Not that he was complaining — he needed to get back. He resisted the urge to drum his fingers on the arm rests.

Ian Doyle. That was a name he had spent several months trying to forget. The events of what happened still haunted him, but even more than that, the lies he had to tell the team wore away at him. Guilt gnawed at his insides, a pit in his stomach that he was sure would give way.

He had to do it. He had no choice. He was the team’s leader. He had to make the hard decisions. He had to bear the burden. But he only wished he didn’t have to do it at the team’s expense.

He rubbed at his eyes. Watching them cry and mourn, listening to them grieve right in front of him, as he evaluated each of them for field work — it had killed him. And now it would all come out. Prentiss was alive. And they had kept it from them. He had kept it from them.

But there was no use thinking about the fallout. Not when he was on a plane miles away from its destination still. No, he needed to think about something else.

He glanced at his phone, smiling at the picture of you and Jack smiling back at him. He remembered the day they had taken that photo. It was your first time spending time with Jack. He never met someone who clicked so easily with Jack — after everything that had happened with Haley, Jack was a little quieter, a little more reserved (not so dissimilar to himself, you had pointed out to him). But with you, it was different. He would smile. He would laugh. He understood. He knew you and you knew him. And he was so grateful for that.

And he was so grateful for you.

His fingers rubbed at his chin, still prickly with his beard. He had kept his promise — he had kept it for you. Even though Jack would be less than pleased. He would be staying with Jessica either way while he dealt with the situation at hand. He wouldn’t be getting much sleep the next few days — he knew that for sure. But even so, the prospect of seeing you soon made his chest feel a little lighter. No longer would date night consist of a hurried dinner and possible phone sex. Now, he could hold you, he could touch you, and he could fall asleep to your quiet breaths, instead of to a far too hot desert and a lonely cot.

And the best part? He hadn’t told you that he was coming back yet. And he didn’t think he was going to, until he was at your doorstep.

~~~

“How was work today?” Hotch gave a heavy sigh over the phone, and you put down the bowl of dough you had been stirring, “Aaron?”

“It was a hard day,” he cleared his throat, “we saved a kid, but he saw his father die in front of him.”

“Aaron,” you wished you could touch him, could comfort him, no words were enough for times like this, “you couldn’t have done anything more. You saved his life.”

“I know, I just—” he clicked his tongue, “I just wish it didn’t turn out that way.”

“And that’s why you’re one of the good guys,” you smile at your phone, “and that’s why you can’t let it eat away at you — you still have your own little boy to come home too. Not to mention, your very patient girlfriend.”

He laughed, a soft noise that made your heart stutter in its chest, “You have been very patient, haven’t you?”

“I have,” you hummed, perking up at the tone of his voice — appreciative and teasing — “got something to reward me with?”

“I actually might,” and you bit your lip, “but you’ll have to do me a favor.”

“This is my reward, and I have to do you a favor?” you clicked your tongue, “doesn’t seem very fair, Agent Hotchner.”

“I know all about fairness, sweetheart. After all, I did study it in law school,” you could almost see him shaking his head, a smile dancing across his lips, “I just need you to open your door.”

“Open my door?” you wiped your hands clean, before grabbing the phone off the counter, making your way to your door. You spotted the back of someone’s head through the peephole. Locks clicking as you undid the lock and the deadbolt, you held the phone between your shoulder and your cheek, “Aaron Hotchner, did you order me dinner again? Because I told you I already—”

You gasped, your phone clattering against your hardwood floors. Aaron stood, hands in his pockets, a smile on his lips, as he tilted his head, “No, but I did bring dessert.”

“Aaron!” you ran into his arms, hands on his shoulders, face buried in his chest, “I can’t believe this. You’re back. You’re here.”

“I am,” he whispers, running his fingers through your hair, “and I’m not going anywhere now.”

You pulled away, “You’re back for good?” and he nods, as your fingers cup his face, thumbs running over his cheeks, and you note the bristle underneath your fingertips, “and I see you kept your promise.”

“Of course, I’m a man of my word,” he breaths, leaning closer as your breath hitches, his lips pressing against yours. It had been months, and you had nearly forgotten how he tasted, lips moving firmly against your own. His teeth grazed your lip, as he eagerly swallowed your moan, as your hands tangled themselves in his hair, walking backwards, as he shut the door with his foot, “I missed you so much,” he says in between kisses that stole the air from your lungs.

Your hands pushed the jacket from his shoulders, “I missed you too,” his hands squeezed your hips, before his hands slipped your thighs, lifting you against him, as he carried you to your bedroom. No longer could you tell where you began and he ended, but you didn’t care — not when his teeth grazed against your pulse point like that. He had you pressed flush against your bedroom door, lips burning a trail of kisses down your neck, fingers toying with the straps of your camisole.

“Take me to bed,” you whispered, and he did — placing you on your bed, and in a second, he was on top of you.

Your fingers busied themselves with undoing the buttons on his button down, while his slid the hem of your camisole higher and higher. You undid the last button and the shirt slid off his shoulders, and he lifted his arms as you did away with the undershirt immediately. Your fingers traced over the broad expanse of his chest reverently, enjoying how his muscles reacted to your touch and how his breath stuttered his chest when your fingers grazed him. The same man who stayed calm under pressure crumbled under your touch.

You raised your arms and he slipped the camisole from your body, groaning when he realized you had no bra on underneath. His fingers teased your nipples, mouth wrapped around one of them, “Aaron,” you arched your back into his touch, your fingers slipping between your bodies, trying to undo the button on his pants. His teeth grazed your nipple, soothing the sting with the flat of his tongue, “please,”

You undo the button of his pants, and pull them down, helping him kick them off. He whispers your name, pressing a kiss to the skin between your breasts, before tucking fallen strands of hair behind your ear, “What do you want, baby?”

Your eyes fall to the prominent bulge in his boxers, “Fuck me,” you look up at him, thumb brushing his lips, and he smiles, pressing another heated kiss to your lips.

“Not before I taste you,” he says, voice husky, as he burns a trail of openmouthed kisses down your body, re-familiarizing himself with every curve and dip of your body, until the fire in the pit of your stomach all but engulfs you. He tugs your sleep shorts down, as you lift your hips to help him, kicking them off. His calloused hands part your thighs, as he settles between them. You watch him with lidded eyes, breath stuck somewhere in the back of your throat. A low groan rumbles in his chest at the sight of your obviously soaked panties. You hiss as his beard scratches beautifully against your thighs, friction making you squirm, until his large palms steadied you. Fingers splayed over the soft skin of your inner thighs, his nose brushing far too close to your soaked center, as he kisses right below the waistband.

“I had forgotten how good you smell,” he murmurs, another kiss, this time right on top of the wet spot on your panties.

He spreads you wider, hips jumping as your heart does in your chest, when his fingers brush your slit through the thin fabric. He doesn’t remove them, no, instead, he slides the crotch aside placing you on full display for him, half wrapped in that silk fabric. You hiss when you feel his warm breath mingling with the cool air of the room. His tongue darts out across his lips, looking at you with half-lidded eyes, before leaning down to press a kiss to your warmth.

His moan vibrates against you, a reverent noise of unrestrained passion and you know that this is just as much for him as it is for you, sending shivers down your spine of what’s to come. A single finger begins to part your folds, as his mouth presses butterfly kisses all around your clit, his beard deliciously grazing against your thighs. And finally, he takes a single broad swipe up his tongue up the length of your weeping cunt. A gasp blooms into a moan, as your fingers grasp at him, traveling the length of his shoulders, until you are able to card your fingers through his dark strands.

His tongue moves in tight circles, your muscles squeezing his thick finger, as keen against him, eager for more, more. As you always were for him, and only him. Desperate for his touch, even when he couldn’t provide it. His beard only stokes the fire coiling in your stomach, now burning against your cunt.

The phone sex seemed like a distant memory, a cheap imitation of the real thing. Nothing, nothing could compare to his lips, his tongue, his teeth, his touch. Nothing could compare your fingers threaded through his hair, his moans quietly reverberating against your slick folds. Nothing could compare to him — the sweet man who had just come back after spending weeks away from his home, his family, his friends, his life — but he chose to spend this night with you.

Another finger parts your folds, and a broken whine leaves your throat, as your head falls against your plush bed, “You take me so well, sweetheart,” he mutters, tongue flicking against your clit, as you lift your eyes to meet his gaze, “so good to me. So patient. So sweet.”

And that’s when his mouth closes over your clit. Your hips rock against the flat palms of his hands, as his tongue flicks against it. And the coil in you snaps, his name a ghost upon your lips, a soundless scream on your lips. You feel him hum against you, far too pleased, but you barely notice, lost in your own high. But he does not relent, pulling your orgasm from you as his fingers scrape against your shuddering walls, tongue eagerly tasting all that you offer him.

He drags himself back up to you, his hardness brushing the inside of your thigh. His fingers trace your jawline, as your eyelids flutter, watching his tongue dart across his chin, still glistening with your release. His lips quickly follow the paths scorched by his fingertips. His lips find yours again when your breaths are even, and even now you can’t get enough of him.

You arch towards him, fingers sliding down his chest to the waistband of his boxers, “Sweetheart,” a strangled groan of your name on lips still sticky with your cum, and he stares at you, eyes black as the darkness that surrounds you, as you slide his boxers down finally.

You both groan in tandem, as your fingers close around his length, flushed and weeping. His hips lean into your touch, the head of his cock brushing your folds.

“Aaron,” you shake your head, “I need you.”

“Where do you need me?” his voice barely above a rasp. He rips your hand from him, pinning both your wrists to either side of your head. He presses another kiss to your skittering heartbeat.

“I need you to fuck me—” you gasp, as his teeth scrape against your neck, pressing soft kisses against its length, before sucking a pretty bruise against the hollow of your throat, “please.”

He sinks into you then, sliding into your warmth, murmuring in your ear. Your mouth falls open, “Even after all this time, you take me so well,” his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thigh as he lifts your leg over his shoulder, “I love you.”

His name is a prayer, his touch is your salvation, as his nails dig crescents into the curve of your hips, “Missed you so much—” his own snap against you harder, deeper, “needed you so bad. I love you. I love you.”

“I want to feel you cum for me, sweetheart,” his fingers skim your clit, and that’s it. You come apart underneath him, veins no longer filled with blood, but with pleasure. His hips stutter as your muscles flutter around his cock, still fucking you through your orgasm, as his fingers make you jump against him, “Say my name,” he growls, as your arms wind around his shoulder, tugging him closer, closer, closer, “say it.”

And you do, just as he cums inside of you with a groan of your name in your ear, nearly collapsing on you. He presses into you, and it’s much too warm, the sticky heat and smell of sex pervades, but you don’t care. Still you tug him closer, chest to chest, as your eyes shut. You feel him come down from his high, his breath slowing. He pulls himself out, and your body mourns his absence. He curls up beside you for a moment, his finger drawing absentminded circles on your thigh. You look at him, a smile pulling at your lips as you find him staring at you. And you press kisses to him — to his shoulder and neck, your fingers sweeping his hair out of his eyes.

But his gaze still persists, “What?” you ask softly, your fingers tracing his jaw, enjoying the scratch of his beard against your fingertips.

“Should I keep the beard?” and you laugh, shaking your head, as you lay back on the pillow.

“I think you should do whatever you want to do,” and he kisses you again, full and warm and happy, “and I think you should definitely take Jack’s opinion into mind.”

He raises a brow, a smile on his lips, “Will you still make it worth my while?”

You roll your eyes, fingers cupping his cheek, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, “I will always make it worth your while.”

Tags: @bucky-of-the-opera, @agenthotchner, @sammy-babes, @hommoturttle, @flightsoffandom, @penelopecult, @good-heavens-chris-evans, @tgibstan, @ssacandi-ass-prentiss, @daddy-hot-chner, @ilytgibs, @spencerreidisgodly, @aquila-leo, @gabile18, @kurtsieforlife, @kinkyassvampire, @aaronelishotch, @spooky-muldy, @thecharmingart, @emma-alysee, @honeyshores, @tegggeeee, @evee87, @missbrightside13, @antmnwasp, @stardust-fray, @pansexualh, @hearmecallinyou, @arabellathorne, @llemmapie, @hecklleandjyde, @anonymous-0tter, @jdougl-love, @musiharrystyles, @spencerhotchner, @purpleturtle31extra, @blatant-attitude, @nuiboo, @shamelesslyf, @just-a-nat, @genevievedarcygranger, @captain-christopher-pike, @natienerd, @unsocialized-nerd, @zoerayne2426, @hp-marvel-starwars-kotlc, @aannamaria98, @infj-slytherclaw, @i-am-addicted-to-tea, @lghenry4, @geekgirl007, @rintheemolion, @m00sethemurderer, @justevraimentconfus, @elite4cekalyma, @soloriormora, @b-is-for-brynn, @willows-studies, @dreila03, @skittle479, @kalexp, @peachymomosblog, @retromami, @ijustwantanapandtocallitaday, @a-disaster-bisexual, @daydreamingandbooks, @joemazzello-imagines, @wargoddesss, @pann1247, @giveusbackourbucky, @justanotherbrunette, @1mailefigueroa1, @yes-sir-hotchner, @kitachan21, @smiles1994, @criminallyfanatic, @ange-must-die, @lotties-journey-abroad, @marvels-agents100, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @captain-christopher-pike, @therestisconfettis, @asuckerforyou, @ephemeral-barnes

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagines #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #aaron hotchner smut #hotch x reader #hotch imagines #hotch smut

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ddosie · 3 years ago

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# 2 and soobin for the prompt please!

you wouldn't say you were the sentimental type.

things came and went. kids grew into adults. that was just how life was. people grew apart, sometimes closer, and it was all expected.

you just never thought you would have to face it yourself.

it was a problem that you had only read about in story books. the handmaiden watches the price she fell in love with get married. she moves on. the king lets go of the memories of his favorite knight. he moves on. the queen loses her son, her only son. she moved on.

they all moved on. so why couldn't you?

"class! class! let's start this school year by introducing ourselves! i'll go first. my name is ms. hilton, and i'm your english teacher for this year! i've worked at this school for a long time now, and i can't wait to teach all of you kids!

okay, now that i've done my introduction, shall we go along the classroom and introduce ourselves? starting from you sir, yes you with the white and black sneakers. please start by telling us your name and a fun fact about yourself."

you watched as the said boy stood up, pushing his hair back with his hand.

"uh... hi everyone, i'm soobin, and one fun fact about me is i went to Europe this year."

as the next person got up to introduce themselves, you found yourself staring at him.

jeez, he was tall for a middle schooler.

the sun is filtering through the blinds in your room, and rays of light are being painted across the walls. everything is a golden color, from the desk to the bedside.

"so... what topic are we choosing for this project?" you watched through the lens of your glasses as soobin furrowed his brow.

"do you think, maybe aristotle?" you nodded your head eagerly, so soobin stood up and walked over to the teachers desk. a second later he sent you a thumbs up.

"aristotle it is."

you twirled your pen in your fingers as soobin took a seat. "hey do you want to work on the project with me over the weekend? i know a really good café...?"

there was a small smile on your face, and you nodded.

"yeah sure, what time?"

you got up from your chair, grabbing a camera. in this lighting, the room was just too pretty to not take a picture of.

"y/n, for someone of that height, there is no reason you should be walking that fast."

you sent a small smile to the long-legged boy trying to catch up with you in the hallway.

"if you don't want to be late to class bin, you're going to have to put those legs to work."

you let soobin catch up with you, and you slowed down your pace from thereon so the two of you could walk side by side. soobin pointed at the trophy shelf.

"do you think we'll win this year too? i hope we do, yeonjun promised a party at his house if we get placed first."

you gave soobin a reassuring pat on his arm.

"you'll be finneee... if you win, i'll take you out to icecream after."

the boy turned to look at you, a smile creeping into his eyes.

"really?"

"really."

fiddling around with the camera, you brushed the light dust that had collected on the top off. you watched as the particles were swept away, dancing in the dying sunlight.

"we should do this every year."

you turned to look at soobin lying next to you, ice-cream sandwhich in one hand, while the other was tucked behind him, supporting his head. he was looking above, admiring the night sky.

"you mean climb some random apartment stairs to get to rooftops? and risk our lives every season game to see a different view of the city at night?"

soobin let out a small laugh. "yeah, well when you put it that way, it does sound bad." you smiled, lying down with your own ice-cream sandwich, propping an arm under your head.

"...i meant the icecream tradition. you'll be there for my next season game, right?"

now it was your turn to admire the night sky.

"of course. i wouldn't miss it for the world"

grabbing a tissue, you went to work at the camera, cleaning dust from all crevices and corners of the lenses. you were surprised. when was the last time you had even taken a photo on this thing?

"hey bin, what's up?"

grabbing your phone and placing it on your desk, you made yourself comfortable, ready for any facetime tea he would spill.

"ah, y/n..." you watched as he ran a hand through his hair from the other side of the screen. "i don't think... i don't think i'll be able to make it to your birthday this year."

there was a quiet silence. you felt like you'd been punched in the gut.

"if i can ask, um, why?" you fiddled with the hem of your hoodie, waiting for an answer.

"the schedules for the basketball game lineups just came out, and the final season game is happening on your birthday. i just wanted to tell you in case we do win that far and i won't be able to come."

you decided to smile at the way soobin had said just in case they win. the two of you were in your sophomore year, and he hadn't lost a game since middle school.

"yeah, don't worry about it soob. we can still get icecream after."

you felt a turn in your stomach when the boy gave you a relived smile, running a hand through his hair again.

"that's all i wanted to say, i've got to go now"

"hm? why?"

"chem tutoring. these freshman are horrible at science."

adjusting the camera, you zoomed in on random objects in your room. the bookshelf. your water bottle. the lamp. click. click. click.

“did you hear? that senior yeonjun will be throwing a bigger party than last year! are you going y/n?”

you shrugged. “when is it?”

“I think it‘ll be this saturday.”

"can’t. I’ll be out of town”

"for what?

“college. I sent an early application, and one of them reached out and wants me to tour the campus. if i go, I’ll have a guaranteed spot next year, and I probably won’t have to apply to any others.”

your friend let out a low whistle and patted your head.

"well when you put it like that, I guess you really can’t go… but maybe we could get something after the game? i heard the ice cream place was still open”

just like that, a mere sentence felt like a silent punch to the gut.

you looked away from your friends face, scanning the cafeteria unknowingly. you were met with the view of a senior tussling soobin's hair, an arm slung across his neck. you could hear their loud conversation even from where you were sitting.

"you coming to my house after the game? me and the guys we're planning to get some icecream and stay over at my house for the night."

you thought you saw something flash in soobins eye's before he smiled, nodding in agreement.

abruptly standing up, you tossed an apology to your friend about how you wouldn't be able to make it and you had just remembered you had some important emails to send. you didn't want to be around when the words of confirmation came out of his mouth itself.

so much for a flash. the last time you had icecream with him was two years ago.

adjusting the lens once more, you caught your eye on a ticket stuck between two books on your desk. you slowly pulled it out. it was blue and grey, your school colors. there was a hole punched on the bottom, indicating it was used.

"and it's the last two minutes of the game, and hybe high is in the lead! if they can make this basket, it will guarantee a regional win for the school. oh! there goes hyunjin... passing to donghyuck who... also just passed to eric who, jeez, passed to soobin...! look at that! look at that!! we are in the last minute everyone, and if captain of hybe high makes this basket, like i said they will be the regional winners!!"

you let the sound of the announcer wash over you, leaning forward in your seat to watch the game.

for some reason you kept coming back. to this gym. to the basketball games.

to soobin.

it had been over a year since the two of you had really talked, the last icecream run being well over three years ago (a promise to go before your birthday was conveniently broken), and the last facetime was to ask for calculus answers.

you knew that you had faded out of the life of the star basketball player.

you just couldn't accept it.

"and soobin gets closer to the rim... oh! it looks like taehyun from bighit acadmy is a pretty good blocker... anyways look at him go! we have twenty second left, and even if he doesn't score hybe is still in for a win... okay, okAY?? WAIT WHAT!! WHAT!!"

there's a loud screech of the intercom that mixes with the cheers of the crowd. you found yourself on your feet, fists pumping in the air in celebration alongside the students in the bleachers despite yourself.

"AND CHOI SOOBIN SECURES THE PLACE OF HYBE HIGH IN DISTRICT REGIONALS!! ONCE AGAIN THE ACE HAS TOPPED EVERYONE AND BRANG HIS TEAM TO VICTORY!!"

you held the ticket tenderly. on the backside was stamped senior, a marker that counted as a discount for the upperclassmen that wanted to watch the game. flipping it over again, you felt a wave of something hit your stomach as you took in the grey and blue.

"hey y/n, wait up!"

you whipped around at the sound of an all too familiar voice.

there, stood soobin, in all his six foot and one inch glory.

"you.." he panted, hands on his knees as if he had run a million miles. "you walk too fast. what's the rush? you were cheering for me so loudly."

there was that feeling again. of being punched in the gut. by that invisible hand that seemed to favor your stomach whenever soobin was around.

"ah, you know... just getting home."

you tried not to stare too long. soobin had grown, matured. the baby face he donned as a middle schooler was gone, only his dimples a reminder of the childhood smiles you shared together.

"you're not... going anywhere? going straight home?"

you gave him a small smile. "...yeah. i'm going soon, so i really need to pack. good game though! you really did good this time around."

"going soon... to where y/n? are you taking a road trip without me?" you sensed a wary tone under his teasing words. three years apart, and this was the news you would have to tell him. curse the fates.

"yup! im, ah... moving cross country. i got accepted a while back."

you could already see the question in his eyes. how far? which major? on campus or near?

why didn't you tell me?

there was a moment of silence while you rocked back and forth on your heels. soobin pushed his hair back, looking into your eyes.

the heaviness of a thousand unanswered questions weighed in the air.

"so... want to catch up over icecream?"

as you held the basketball ticket from senior year, you realized three things.

one: you were the sentimental type. you clung onto old memories and good times like they were life jackets, keeping you afloat in the mundanity of your new life.

two: you didn't really like the idea of always moving on. it seemed so easy in the story books, that after a couple years the queen goes back to her ordinary life, the king appoints a new knight, and the princess finds someone she truly loved. but was there a time where you would just stop caring? was there a day you would wake up and didn’t think about what could have happened, the if only’s and what if’s?

three: you couldn't move on. you prided yourself on being able to move faster, walking a pace before everyone else. life was a journey, and you were going places. quite literally. you were floating when everyone was sinking.

but you were only floating because you had your life jacket.

...

things came and went. kids grew into adults. that was just how life was. people grew apart, sometimes closer, and it was all expected.

you clutched the ticket in your hand, the end slightly wrinkled by your fingers.

you just never thought you would have to face it yourself.

#sorry for the angst anon 😬#this was maybe quite possibly perhaps influenced by real events #txt #txt x reader #txt angst #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt soobin #soobin #soobin drabbles #soobin imagines #soobin scenarios #soobin au #soobin angst #soobin x reader #choi soobin #soobin choi

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years ago

Text

Feeding The Flames: Breakfast of Champions

Summary- 1.9k Johnny Storm x You. Johnny opts to sleep in this morning instead of getting up early. You snooze, you lose Storm. But he knows how to compensate for the missed meal.

This is written for @imanuglywombat‘s “Is That Even A Sex Position” Weekly Challenge NSFW, 18+ Sexual Content

Masterlist

“Where's Flame Boy?” Ben questioned while entering the kitchen, his heavier footsteps giving him away before hand, so you were expecting him to come up behind you. Flipping the pancake, you shook your head with a roll of your eyes.

“In bed still… can you believe that he said he would rather sleep in then help me this morning?” You chuckled while plating food before starting another. Susan wasn't far behind, with Richard trailing her with a newspaper tucked under his arm.

“Johnny was never an early riser.” She shrugged as she started gathering dishes to set the table, Richard unfolding the paper with a sigh.

“The best time to get anything done is in the morning, but I never could drill that into him.” The man shook his head and Susan passed him while giving him a kiss on top of his head.

You hid a smile while fussing with the bacon sizzling on the back of the stove. They were terribly wrong about Johnny being an early riser. Why he had risen at like four am just that morning and was a man set on a goal. Kisses to your neck and traveling till he was pressing his face heatedly between your breasts, pressing a knee between your thighs to spread them, his cock heavy between the two of you.

“Johnny, it's too early.” You had whined but he persisted, warm fingers stroking between your folds while sucking on a nipple.

“I will be quick.”

“Liar” you threw your hand down to brush over his buzz cut, grasping the back of his head even though you were protesting.

You got lost in your thoughts, biting your lip as you felt an excited tingle spiral in your lower belly.

Ben though was quick to cut the memories short. “Anything I can do to help Y/N?” he asked while you drifted back to the here and now, scooping out the bacon before it got to crispy. Clicking off the burner, you wink at Ben.

“Sure do.” You pull open the fridge door and pull out a bag of oranges. “Would you juice the oranges? You are a hell of a lot faster than I am.”

He grabbed a bowl from above your head and took the oranges. “Have it done lickity split Y/N.”

You gave him an affectionate hug. “And that's why I can always count on your Ben.”

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Johnny gave a groan as he stirred alone in bed, lifting his head to grab for his phone and check the time. A reasonable hour, ten am, blinked back at him. Johnny reached his hand over to your side of the bed, but already knew it would be cold and empty. You weren't one to just stay in bed often and that was a shame, because he would have made it worth your while. Instead he heard you talking in the adjacent room from the bedroom, sounded like his sister, and Johnny gave in that he probably wasn't going to be able to distract you into coming back to bed now. With a groan, he pushed up to wander into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Once he showered and dressed, Johnny followed his nose to the delectable scent of fried bacon and eggs. His hand settled on his stomach which was growling while he went into the kitchen to find you sitting at the table, your college textbooks spread around and wagging a pen in the air while you concentrated on the chapter you were reading, once in a while pausing to write a note down on your pad of paper.

“Breakfast smells good Y/N.” Johnny started searching the counters and stove top.

You chuckled while turning a page, nodding. “Mmmhh it was, too bad you missed it.”

Johnny peeked in the microwave in the last ditch attempt to find himself some of your cooking, which he snapped it shut. “All of it? All gone? Every last bit of it?” He groaned and you leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms over your head. Johnny couldn't help but admire the way your sleep tank stretched over your chest, making him smirk to himself.

“Every last bit of it. You got some cornflakes up in the cupboard.”

Johnny snorted at that idea. He was hungry and cereal wasn't going to curb that craving. No, he had something better in mind. Even better then what you had cooked up earlier while he was sleeping. “Fuck cereal.”

You half ignored Johnny as you started packing some of your books up considering you had to get to class in another hour. “Make some toast then Johnny, I don't know what to tell you. You snooze, you lose Mister.”

Johnny smirked as he rounded the counter, tilting his head to look at your heart shaped ass as you leaned down to zip up your bag, and his hands clasped against your cheeks, making you squeak while he dug his fingers in a bit. “I can think of something a lot better to have then cereal, toast or anything else in this kitchen today.” He spun you around, hands falling to your hips to perch you on the table, some of your books falling off the edge of the table. Your legs circled around Johnny's hip while your hands rubbed up his tee and you shook your head at him.

“You sure know how to compliment a girl. Best thing in the kitchen huh?” You wiggled your brows and bit your lip while running a foot up the back of his thigh.

“Nothing but facts Baby.” he tilted in to claim your lips, starting with a peck of a kiss. “Where is everyone?”

“Mmhh, Richard and Susan had a lecture at the university and I'm assuming Ben is in his room?” You shrugged and Johnny seemed to calculate the chances of getting caught.

“Fuck it” He sputtered and surged forward to now place a messy kiss on your lips, forcing you to lay back against the table, clutching at his shoulders. Some of your books were digging into your back, and when he pulled away to drag fingers through the waistband of your shorts. Dragging them down, you kicked your feet. To deny that the idea of being caught was a bit exciting. A hell of a lot exciting.

“Johnny what if we get caught?” You raised yourself to your elbow to look down your body to where Johnny was kissing the top of your thighs and pulling up a chair underneath him. Palms dragged the back of your thighs to grasp the back of your knees, his mouth hot against the top of your mound.

“Keep quiet and we won't.” His hands tightened and dragged one leg over his shoulder, running his nose through the tight curls and down to the slit where you could already feel your core tighten just seeing your boyfriend looking up at you like he was ready to feast. “You can do that, right Minx?” A pink tongue escaped from between his lips to tease your outer folds, making your toes curl at the sensation.

You give a nod, and tilt your head back towards the doorway to make sure no one was coming this way when Johnny flicked his tongue harder to slick between your tempting folds to really taste your juicy cunt. A gasp escaped at the sensation and you could feel Johnny giving a smirk against your thigh where he bit lightly, lifting that one to go over his other shoulder. “Mmh, delicious.” He said teasing as his hands folded around the plump globes of your cheeks and arched you up, your elbows bracing you and the books you had been laid over digging into your back.

His tongue took sharp laps to collect your juices with a hum of satisfaction, every glance he took up your body showed your tensing at each taste he took, every time his tongue circled around your weeping entrance, giving teasing pokes before sliding up to suck your clit between his lips. The bud swelled, each twirl of the tip of his tongue circled patterns that made your hips rotate to follow, your little mewls just rewarding above him.

“Fuck, oh fuck Johnny.” You wriggled your hips and he clutched them harder to keep you still. Your feet braced against the back of the chair to arch up higher, which he allowed. Burying his face into your cunt, he kept teasing back and forth, till you felt him spit against your rim, his finger circling your tight entrance.

“Shit Johnny-”

His teeth sunk into your ass cheek a moment, making you bite on your bottom lip to quiet yourself. “Gotta keep quiet, remember.” His thumb pushed past the tight rim to the first knuckle as his tongue lapped your entrance, fast hard licks making you clench till he started to fuck you with his tongue, easily stroking your fluttering walls.

You leaned onto an elbow to loosen your other arm, muffling the cry that was falling from your lips as your hips bucked, Johnny harshly digging his fingers into your globes in an attempt to keep you still.

Between him teasing your ass, tongue fucking you so efficiently you wanted to cum right then, it was all overwhelming when he sucked on your clit again, this time pulling the swollen bud to lift his head up to look down at you while you were digging your fingers into your cheeks with one hand and trying to clutch at the wooden table underneath you.

“Flood my face Baby…” He encouraged, his tongue swiping along his shiny pink bottom lip as if he was collecting some decadent cream. His chin, jawline, all glistened from your arousal and you could feel your thighs drenched. His hands arched you just a bit more while you gave him a pleading gaze, high pitched whine confirming that you were ready to cum.

He dove back in, now a man on a mission, and you resisted the build up for just a few moments, sounds escaping between clenched fingers over your lips, your hand slapping against the table when you finally snapped.

Much to Johnny's delight, you drenched him just as he wanted. His tongue worked faster as you rocked into his face through your orgasm. Groaning satisfied at how well you coated his tongue, swallowing what he could until you sank back down, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

Behind you were heavy echoing footsteps, which made you push up to a sit suddenly. “Oh shit-” Johnny pushed up to a stand, lifting you off the table to grasp your lowered sleep shorts and quickly pulled them up and gave a quick kiss, his eyes sparkling brightly in excitement.

“Oh look whose ass is finally up.” Ben grunted and Johnny was quick to lift his shirt up to wipe at his lips and chin to hide the evidence of earlier, you turned to finish picking up the books on the table.

“Ahh, well I woke up to smelling breakfast and guess what, I heard it's all gone.” Johnny leaned down to pick up the books that fell down. “Lucky me though I got a girl that gave me a Special Breakfast, since I missed out earlier.” Johnny grinned widely as Ben rolled his eyes, grabbing some water bottles from the fridge.

You squeaked a bit, trying to hide your face as you cleared your throat. “I gotta go get dressed for class.” You excused while making your escape, hearing the parting words shared between the two.

“She spoils you Johnny, I hope you know that.”

“Fuck Ben, feel free to pulverize me if I ever disagree with that statement.”

#uglywombatsexpositionchallenge #johnny storm x reader #johnny storm #fantastic four #amber writes #sweater writes

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dancingamongstdust · 3 years ago

Text

Creepypasta Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 3)

I’ve opened requests now, if anybody is interested. Here’s the post:

Requests

Lost Silver

As stupid as it sounds, the game didn’t scare you.

It had started as a joke, something passed around your friend group after it had been discovered. The cartridge was just a janky version of a Pokémon game that was apparently spooky and so, everybody had taken turns messing around with it. They all said creepy things started happening but nothing too bad.

When it was your turn, you had been fully expecting something out of a horror movie. Instead, you had gotten a game that just had audio cut offs and weird notes warning you to stay out. It wasn’t all together scary.

You mentioned this to the next person you gave the game to in your friend group and they had laughed, saying it would probably ring true for them also.

But for some reason, your ally didn’t manifest.

Less than two days later, they practically threw the game at the rest of you and ran away sprouting things about curses. After that, the appeal of playing it kind of went away.

Nobody wanted to buy it and apparently throwing it out wasn’t a suggestion. So you ended up getting it.

Curiosity soon got the better of you and you booted up the game again, really sure that it would do something absolutely crazy but it never did. It ran like it always had with only that one file being completed.

So you deleted the file.

And nothing happened.

The next day, when you booted up the game, the file had simply returned as though you hadn’t deleted it in the first place. A similar thing occurred the next time. And the next.

Eventually you gave up and just started your own game. There, everything ran like it was meant to and you were beginning to think that your friends had all been imagining stuff. Maybe their paranoid got to them or something like that?

But eventually, the nightmares started. And they were bad.

You couldn’t remember exactly what happened during them. They were a swirling mess of games and glitches, horrible things spelled out in letters and blood covering everything. You would always wake up right when they seemed to be coming to a pivotal point. You’d find yourself dragged into a graveyard and then you’d wake up screaming

It was awful. You hardly got any sleep during them and they seemed to haunt you every night, keeping you up until the early hours of the morning.

But the worst only came when you didn’t wake up.

When you were dragged to the grave and looked down to see the ellipsis where the name should be. A punch to the gut that reminded you of what the game file was called. A confirmation of what was causing this dream.

You stared at it for ages before your eyes drifted up and you met his gaze. He was covered in blood, it leaked from every orifice and limb. It stained his dirty clothing even worse.

While you were staring, the world seemed to distort even though he didn’t. The game world melted away and your bedroom slowly reappeared.

It wasn’t until you saw car headlights move past your window – casting awful shadows across the room – that you realised you were no longer dreaming. He wasn’t a figment of your imagination.

The temperature in the room plummeted and you began to slowly reach for a weapon of some kind. He turned to look at what you were watching. His head tilted to the side and a glitch raced across his body before he vanished into thin air. Flicking on the lights didn’t show him hiding or cowering.

Perhaps your friends weren’t crazy after all.

Masky

“You know, if we had been a little more patient, none of this would have happened,” your sibling lectured. “We could be relaxing inside the car without having to worry about a bloody flash flood coming down from the sky.”

You shoved their back, forcing them to stumble a little as they went through the door. “Chances are the river’s going to burst its banks anyway. We would have been stuck in traffic for hours because the bridge is blocked off.”

“At least we would have been dry,” they muttered, running their fingers through their hair. “And not trapped inside an abandoned building.”

You rolled your eyes and made your way over the rubble to settle down on a camping chair. “Don’t even start. This place has been a hangout for my friends and I for ages. There’s never been a single problem bigger than a few spiders.”

“Till a landlord shows up,” they scoffed.

“Then we’ll move to the forest,” you joked. “I’m sure there’s a good bear cave we can use.”

“I’m going to be an only child,” they said, rolling their eyes. Still, they made their way over and sat. “How long do you think we have until the storm dies down?”

You relaxed back into the chair and smiled up at the asbestos-filled ceiling. “From the sound of it, a while.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time you had taken a nap in the building. You were scared of giant cockroaches coming to eat you once. You had gotten used to it since then but this time when you woke up, you were uneasy.

Glancing around, nothing was out of the ordinary. Your sibling was snoring in the chair next to you and outside the rain was pounding the roof.

You sat upright. Sometimes was definitely wrong.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you got up from the chair and began walking as quietly as you could through the house. It had always been tiny and practically void of furniture, but the few rooms provided ample hiding spots.

Nothing but rubble was in most of the rooms but, in what you presumed had once been a bathroom, you found a person.

He had his back to you but when you pushed the door open to peer in, he spun around, his hand flying to his side. He was wearing a white mask, dark features etched onto it, and an orange jacket. A dark stain ran up the right side of it, emanating from under his hand. The oddness of his clothing made you immediately back away from the door, finger twitching on your cell phone in case you needed to call for help.

The two of you stared at each other in silence.

You were lost about what to say or do. The stain on his jacket was spreading and the more you stared at it, the more you became convinced it was blood. “Are you okay?” you finally managed to ask.

It took him a while to respond but then he nodded. The mask was unnerving you. You didn’t like not being able to see a person’s facial expressions.

“I don’t mean to pry or anything, but it really looks like you’re bleeding,” you said. “And quite badly. I can call for an ambulance or something although…” you turned your attention to the window behind his head. “I’m not sure they’ll be able to get anywhere with this weather.”

He stepped backward. “I’m fine,” he said, so soft you barely caught it. “I thought this place was abandoned.”

“It normally is,” you answered. “But we had to avoid the storm. I’m guessing that’s why you’re here also?”

“Yes,” he responded.

You waited or him to say something more, but all you got was silence. He had moved further away and now he had his back against the window. Part of you wanted to turn around and go back to your sibling but you were unsure about turning your back on the strange man.

The mask made you scared he could stab you or something.

Somebody calling your name made you turn your head on instinct. Your sibling must have woken up and realised you were missing.

Quickly, you turned back to the man, but he had disappeared. Rain spat through the now open window.

Nurse Ann

Everybody always warned you about exploring old buildings. They would yell about how many things could injure or kill you. Stray animals, drug addicts, old equipment, and all that. You had heard just about every warning imaginable. Ghosts were pretty commonly mentioned also.

But killer nurse was a new one.

“Come on, just give me a little more information,” you nagged. “I’m going there whether you’re with me or not so you may as well just tell me what you’ve heard.”

Your friend (and partner in crime for most ventures) groaned. “It’s not much. They just say that she guards the place and if you get too close, she’ll run you off with a chainsaw. Some people have died from injuries they got while there. Let’s just give this one a miss, alright?”

But you were not in agreement at all.

“Maybe she’s cute though,” you teased.

They didn’t find that funny and you didn’t push them to come with you. So later that evening, you snuck in by yourself.

The hospital was old with crumbling walls and smashed windows. It was hidden from the public by means of a tall barbed-wire fence and a substantial distance of open garden. Nothing too extreme for you and definitely worth the potential items you’d find inside. When hospitals went under, they often left tons of awesome stuff just scattered around.

You’d never sold anything you found in your abandoned building dives. They were more collectables than anything else but they meant quite a bit to you.

There weren’t any signs of crazy nurses as you approached the place. Nobody came running at you with a chainsaw at least. You didn’t even find evidence of squatters who could sometimes pose some danger.

After deciding it was safe enough, you lifted yourself through one of the windows and began to explore.

Honestly, it was creepy. Everything was way too old to be worth collecting and there were too many unidentifiable stains for your liking. The water damage was bad. It looked like the ceiling was there for aesthetics only and several rooms creaked too much for you to comfortably cross them.

And that was even without the awkward feeling of being watched.

You told yourself that it was just superstition but you couldn’t shake it. Every few seconds saw you looking over your shoulder in anticipation. It distracted you from keeping your eye on the path in front of you and the loud crack reached your ears too late.

The floor gave out and you fell through. Your shoulder hit some kind of metal object as you landed in the room below. Painful shocks ripped through your body and your head knocked against the floor with a heavy thud.

Stars danced in front of your vision and you raised your hand to the top of your head. Blood coated your hand when you lowered it to look.

Shit.

Shakily, you tried to pull yourself up but quickly found that your arm was too sore. Instead, you pulled your phone from your pocket and sent off the emergency text to your friend.

The world faded to black not long after that.

When you woke up next, you were in your room with a bandage wrapped around your head. You had felt like absolute crap but still gotten up to thank them for the save. They had nodded and warned you to be more careful, happy that you had been outside the hospital so they didn’t have to look for too long.

Before you could even think about how you had crawled there, they asked how you had managed to do your own stitches so nicely.

Puppeteer

Your camera was on 10% battery.

Grumbling, you shoved it into your bag and cursed your past self for forgetting to put it on charge. In order to get the best sunrise photos, you had found yourself waking up earlier and earlier. It was tiring but it was worth it… most of the time.

You just hoped that at least one of your pictures was usable but you could only check on them once you got home.

The streetlight above your head flickered as you walked past. It wasn’t unusual but when you were the only person awake for miles around, it was awfully creepy.

Putting your hands into your jacket pockets, you continued strolling back home. The neighborhood had never been dangerous and despite living in the area for your entire life, no incidents made you want to stop walking around at night.

Deciding that you wanted to take a precautionary shot, you headed for your neighbour’s house first. They had an arch covered in jasmine flowers that made for some perfectly safe photos and they never minded your presence.

After making your way there and getting a few photos, you were treated to the fright of your life when their began howling and barking. It wasn’t aimed at you but you didn’t like the noise regardless.

As you rounded the corner of the house, planning on racing back to your own home, you encountered the dog’s target.

A man – cloaked in the darkness and barely illuminated by the streetlight – opening one of the windows with ease. Irritated by the dog, he didn’t notice you until your finger twitched around the shutter of your camera. There was a flash.

His head snapped up and you screamed.

The man’s complexation was literally grey. He wasn’t just ill, he was the colour of storm clouds. Golden eyes with no pupils glared at you and froze you in place. Whatever he was, this man was the furthest thing from human.

Your scream woke your neighbors. The sound of movement began coming from inside the house.

He abandoned the window, stalking towards you. The air tingled like it was expecting a lightning storm. Golden tendrils grew from his fingertips and shot towards you. They had you pinned in an instant.

You struggled against them and opened your mouth to scream again but they wrapped around your head, forcing your jaw shut.

This was how you died… tears spilled down your cheeks at the realization. You were going to be an unsolved murder. All you hoped was you got a good picture of him.

Your neighbor’s front door opened and great dane let out an ear-splitting bark as he raced toward you.

The man, or creature, or monster, or whatever he was, released you to face the dog. He let it approach before vanishing into a cloud of smoke as its jaws reached him.

“What was that?” the timid voice brought you back into reality.

“It was trying to get into your house,” you said. “I screamed when I saw it and then it grabbed me.” Your voice changed to a whimper as reality hit you. You nearly died.

The small child of the house came over to hug your leg. “I’m sure Puppet didn’t mean to scare you,” she said. “He always comes to visit but he doesn’t like it when people make noise. You shouldn’t scream when you see him again.”

You made eye-contact with the parents and they wore expressions of horror at their daughter’s words.

“Puppet?” you asked in a small voice.

She nodded rapidly. “He says he stops by because he likes watching people. I think that he’s watching us all right now! But he can hide in the shadows too well.”

“I’m going to go and call the police,” somebody said.

You weren’t all too focused. The feeling of being watched grew heavier and you clutched tightly at the camera in your hands.

Slenderman

You couldn’t tell if they were being serious. You hoped that they were joking. They weren’t genuinely going to…

“No,” you stated.

The two younger children both turned to look at you simultaneously. Guilt flashed across their faces as though they weren’t aware you were listening. It was as though you were asked to babysit them because you didn’t pay attention. These two should have realised that by now.

“Do you think all the stories are true?” the boy asked. “I think that they are. One of my friends said she saw a huge dog in the forest and then it ran away after eating a whole cow!”

“No way!” his twin sister shouted. “Dogs don’t eat cows, so it can’t be true!”

You put on your best intimidating expression and crossed your arms. “I don’t care if they’re true or not. There is absolutely no chance that either of you are going to go running off into the woods with bears, wolves and all kinds of other creatures.”

The two children glanced at each other and bolted for the tree line before you could grab their shirts.

Thankfully your legs were longer even if they had a head start and you managed to catch up pretty quickly. Once you caught the boy and picked him up with ease, the girl dashed behind a tree.

“Can we please just leave?” you asked nicely. “If we forget about the forest adventure thing, I promise I won’t tell your parents and I’ll get you ice cream.”

The boy was trying his hardest to get out of your hold. You were starting to think babysitting didn’t pay enough.

“I don’t want ice cream,” the girl said. “I want to go and find a unicorn.”

She darted off into the forest and you let out a deep groan. Shifting the boy’s weight over your one hip, you started walking after her. If you wanted to give chase via running, you would have to put the kid down and trust him to follow or stay.

It was obvious that wasn’t happening.

It didn’t take you too long to find the girl. Mostly because she had stopped in the middle of a weird grove in the trees. She was just staring off into the dark shadows beyond it.

As you approached her, static popped in your ears. You shook your head in an effort to displace it but the closer you got, the louder it became.

The child in your arms whimpered, clutching his head.

You softly called her name and then it appeared. It was a man-like monster, standing just in the shadows of the trees. Easily over 7ft tall and insanely thin with no facial features. Your heart jumped into your throat and your stomach tied itself into a knot.

Without taking your eyes off it, you reached out a hand and fumbled around until you grabbed the girl’s shirt.

The static was getting louder and louder. You tried to shut it out as you started moving backwards, tugging the child along after you. She wasn’t willing to move her legs. She was entranced but whether by fear or magic, you couldn’t tell.

And then it was much closer.

You stumbled in fright, letting go of the girl’s shirt and landing on your ass. The boy fell on top of you but scrambled away and hide in the bushes within the blink of an eye. You sent a silent prayer to him to run back home to the other adults.

Once again, the creature was stationary but now the static was growing to such a volume that you could imagine your ears were starting to bleed.

You reached out for the girl again slowly, but something wrapped around your leg and yanked you into the air.

It took almost a full second for you to realise that the screaming ringing in your ears was you. Whatever was holding you tightened and whipped your body through the air. It was like your leg was being ripped away.

Then you were falling.

It was some feat of luck that you managed to twist your body, so you didn’t land on your head. You lay there for a while before something poking your back made you unbury your face.

The twins were staring at you with wide eyes and the monster was nowhere in sight.

“What was –“ you couldn’t finish.

“Slenderman,” they said in perfect sync.

Splendorman

Another stop…

You couldn’t help yourself. Every time you walked past one of the posters fluttering lightly in the wind you had to stop and stare at it.

A few days ago, your dog, your beautiful and sweet puppy, had disappeared from your house without a trace. The missing posters were depressing reminders that he wasn’t home. It hadn’t taken long for your mind to spiral into the negative thoughts about how close the road was.

Damn your coworkers. One of the had suggested the road in the first place and while they hadn’t intended anything malicious, it was definitely not helping your fears.

The dog had been with you through thick and through thin… if it was dead, you may as well have lost a close family member.

Hanging your head, you dragged your eyes away from the poster and kept walking.

People bumped into you, but it was your fault. You refused to look up in case another poster distracted you. Getting home before the sun set was your only focus now.

You had tried going out and searching in all the places where your dog once spent time to no avail. Always willing to try again, you chose to drop off your bags and head out later that evening when you ran out of distractions.

As you walked through the gates in front of your house, a gust of air gently messed up your hair. A gust of wind suspiciously similar to a laugh.

Your logical mind told you it came from the street, but something made you stop in your tracks.

The walls around your property towered. There’s no possibility that somebody could be in your garden. To try and scale one of the walls, they would have been in full view of your neighbours who would have undoubtedly called the cops.

“You’re sad,” the wind whispered before you could brush off your suspicion.

Spinning wildly, you searched around for the source. You backed up until your entrance gate was behind you. You could run down to the main street with ease if you could just get your fumbling fingers to unlock things.

“Don’t run,” the wind said, this time blowing from a separate direction. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to know why you’re upset.”

Is this what going insane was? Nobody around and the wind was talking to you. You had always feared losing your mind and now it was happening.

“I’m real,” the wind said. “I’m hiding because I’ll scare you if you see me.”

“I’m going mad,” you muttered, shaking your head. “If this is somebody pulling a prank on me I swear….”

The wind quietened for a bit and then it picked up again, ruffling your hair as it spoke. “If I show myself, it’ll prove that you’re not going crazy, but I don’t want to make it worse by frightening you… you’re so sad already.”

“I lost my best friend and people have been telling me he’s most likely dead,” you hissed. “Obviously I’m not in the best mood. Now I’m losing my fucking mind and talking to air.”

The atmosphere around you dropped, like it does moments before lightning strikes. You glanced at the sky in confusion. As expected, no clouds in sight.

You lowered your gaze and a 7ft tall creature covered in bright polka dots stood in front of your house.

Once you screamed, it disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” the wind said. “I knew I would scare you, but I had hoped it would show you that I’m not imaginary. I’m just trying to help.”

The gate finally opened behind you and you stumbled backwards through it, your heart sitting in your throat. A monster was in your house and it was probably going to kill you. Spinning on your heel, you took off full speed back towards the main street.

You were fully expecting it to give chase now that you hadn’t fallen for its claims of harmlessness but it didn’t.

Instead you reached the main road and only got a few strange looks because of how much you were shaking. Nothing followed you.

The wind picked up once more. “I’ll try and help,” it promised.

People walking around you should have heard it as well but none of them so much as blinked.

Ticci Toby

While you had been told that a noise limit for the forest existed, your laughter refused to cooperate. It rang through the trees and probably chased off all the animals nearby. A picnic out in a national forest was a fantastic way to reconcile with nature and to scare it all away.

With eleven people in your picnic party, chances of any creatures coming into view were already slim though so you didn’t worry too much.

“We didn’t bring nearly enough fruit,” you muttered as you dug in the basket.

“Excuse you, I brought a whole watermelon but you ate it,” somebody answered your grumble. “If you want fruit, it is spring. Go and forage for some berries.”

You snorted. “Yeah, right. I’m going to go out by myself in the middle of the one season where bears are irritable as fuck. I know I sometimes act a little impulsively, but I don’t exactly have a wish to die at the claws of a grumpy teddy.”

Your friend leaned towards you. “Is that so? What if we split into teams and made a bet? Loser has to take a dip in the river.”

“A bet?” you asked. “I’m interested.”

She grinned and snapped her fingers. “Okay, there are eleven people so I’m feeling groups of two with one impartial party as a judge. We should be fine if we make enough noise and stick within close vicinity to each other. See how many berries we can gather?”

Tipping out the picnic basket’s contents, you smirked and pushed it into her chest. “Oh, I hope you brought a swimming costume.”

Everybody teamed up with ease and grabbed one of the many containers lying on the blanket. You headed out with your partner and gave a wink to the other teams. All you needed was to find one good bush first and you had it won.

“We should split up,” your partner said. “Cover more ground.”

You nodded. “We meet up back here once we’ve found a good bush,” you agreed. “And we shout if we find any animals.”

Obviously, your plans hadn’t involved losing your footing almost directly after the two of you split.

Tumbling down the small hill, you tried your hardest to protect yourself from the bushes as you went through them. At some point, you lost your basket and by the time you had finally rolled to a stop, you had no idea where it was.

Grumbling, you stood up and started searching until something dark caught your eye. Thinking it was your basket, you made your way over.

The clearing you walked into housed a scene you could never have imagined.

A dead bear lay slumped against a tree, its fur being what had caught your eye earlier. A hatchet buried in its neck was spilling blood onto the floor around it. All that hardly compared to the man leaning against a tree.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

His head immediately snapped up, allowing you to see that he was wearing a mouth guard and a pair of goggles. Blood seeped from between his fingers where they clutched against his chest, but he hardly noticed. A hatchet was hanging from his belt.

Suddenly, you were wishing you had kept your mouth shut.

He stared at you blankly for a while, an occasional twitch minorly affecting his body. Reaching up, he took off his mouthguard. “I can’t feel any pain,” he said. “So, I’m fine. Why are y-you out here? The hiking trail is far.” He struggled with one of the words, seeming to hiccup a little on it.

“I was searching for berries and I slipped down a hill,” you answered. “Are you sure you’re okay? It looks like you got into a fight with a bear. Your shirt is all bloody.”

“I did fight a bear,” he laughed, gesturing to it. “I won.”

Your eyes grew wider. “I think you should get to a hospital. What’s your name? I can call somebody for you and we’ll get you medical attention.”

“Toby,” he said. “That’s my name. What’s yours?”

You gave him your full name and pulled out your phone. “My friends are close by,” you said. “Don’t worry, they’ll be here to help soon.”

When you raised your attention from your phone, he had disappeared and so had the hatchet from the bear’s neck.

Trenderman

Work was hard. It made your feet ache, it made your back click and crack, and it felt like the problems would never end.

Would you give up working in the fashion industry? Not a chance.

Your boss walked past where you were calming down an irate customer over the phone and dropped the keys to the front of the building in front of you. “Close up for me,” she mouthed as she left.

Nodding, you moved them to the side of the desk where they couldn’t be lost.

Once you had finished calming the customer, you glanced around to check how many people were left in the room. Three still working and one in the process of leaving. You were technically going into overtime at this point, but you didn’t mind.

There was a reason you were promoted so quickly.

“We need to set up cameras!” one of the floor managers snapped, storming into the office. She marched straight over to your desk and glowered at you. “I put this request in a week ago.”

Scrolling through the documents, you quickly opened the file. “I see but it looks like it’s been bumped due to a shipment malfunction, I’ll flag it. What’s the problem?”

“Customers or members of staff are moving items around and throwing things out without warning. We need to catch the culprits!” she snapped.

“What has been thrown out?” you asked. “I’ll add it into the information.”

The woman started listing quicker than you could type. “I’ve found crocs, toeless thigh-high boots, bellbottomed jeans, coloured faux fur jackets, luminous lipstick, w-necks, and jeggings all in vast numbers in the trash can. Every time I put them out on shelves, they disappear again.”

It took everything in you not to snort. “I’ll mark this vital.”

She stalked off and you went back to inputting the shipping requirements. You were meant to be organising what was coming in for the latest line and subtly omitting anything that wouldn’t sell well enough.

Slowly but surely, your co-workers trickled out of the office after finishing off their daily tasks. You kept going, trying to make sure you could have a longer break the next day.

Finally, when the sun had already set, you relented and started getting ready to go home.

You sung as you finished packing up for the day. Being the last one in the building (thus having to lock up) made you a little more confident as you danced around getting everything together. You slung your bag over your shoulder and happily trotted over to the door.

It made you so happy that your boss entrusted you to be the last one around. She was so hyper-protective of company secrets that you were proud of yourself for winning her over.

Your talent with people was something you attributed to dealing with painful customers.

As you passed through the store-part of the business you stopped to rearrange a mannequin. Every morning when you came in, you always noticed something had been changed with this specific one. You figured you could move something small and see if it would be a good place to set up a hidden camera.

Though you weren’t expecting it to suddenly grab your arm.

“You may be one of the few workers here with good taste, but I advise you don’t try and change my outfit,” it said. It didn’t have a mouth, but the words rang in your head, nevertheless.

You screamed and pulled away, tearing your arm from its grip. Shelves were knocked over and clothing was sent flying as you tried to escape.

The mannequin just watched you as you fumbled madly for the door.

The glass rattled in the frame from how hard you slammed it shut behind you. You sped off down the street, moving faster than you ever had before. You collapsed on your lawn by the time you reached the house, taking deep breaths.

Nothing had followed you. Everything was okay.

With shaking fingers, you dialed your boss’ number and told her you would be taking a sick day. There wasn’t a chance in hell you were going anywhere near there again.

Not to mention the mess you made… you were definitely getting fired.

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #slenderman #splendorman #trenderman #ticci toby #nurse ann #masky #cp masky #marble hornets #lost silver #puppeteer #x reader

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lfcology · 4 years ago

Text

swatches | sirius black

summary: you had loved sirius black for longer than you could remember. through two wizarding wars and a harsh time in azkaban: you were head over heels. what happens when he misunderstood your relationship? everyone lives au lowkey as it should be!

pairing: Fem!Reader x Sirius (post books so they’re slightly older)

word count: 1.6k

warnings: misunderstandings, mention of pregnancy/getting pregnant

Two wars. You had survived two wars against the most powerful dark wizard ever and had no inclination to tell your longtime friend you loved him. You'd been head over heels for Sirius Black for the better part of two decades yet opted to keep your feelings to yourself – stating something about the timing not being right. But if not during a war – nay, two wars – when would the time be right? You'd been with other people, trying to get over the raven-haired beauty yet no one ever made you feel anything close to what you did with him.

He'd served years in Azkaban, convicted of some of the most heinous crimes against muggles and the reason behind his best friends death, but you knew he was innocent. Sirius Black was a lot of things but a traitor was not one of them. Now, years later, he was finally free – an innocent man to the world. Once the dark lord was defeated again, and things started to calm down, 12 Grimmauld Place wasn't needed for the order anymore so you insisted on helping Sirius clean it up.

Though you couldn't wash away the painful memories of his childhood, it didn't mean you couldn't try. Harry was old enough to live on his own now but after years apart he and Sirius wanted to catch up on lost time. The first order of business you planned was putting that horrid painting of Mrs. Black in the basement. It took a lot of spells to detach her from the wall but the relief that came across Sirius' face once she was gone was worth it. The two of you worked together tirelessly to bring brightness into the home for the first time since it was built. The Black family tree tapestry was peeled off and replaced with a fresh coat of white paint and a photo wall.

Photos of James, Lily, Marlene and other friends lost over the years lined the wall and memories flooded your senses. There were moments in time captured that reminded you of easier days. Your times at Hogwarts. Your summers at the Potters. You, Sirius and Remus, admired your handy work on the wall. You three had lost so much but the thankfulness you felt to still have each other was beyond you. Sirius wrapped his arm around you and pressed a kiss to your temple. Remus excused himself to spend time with Teddy, leaving you and your love alone. "Should we start clearing out some of the rooms?" You suggested despite not wanting to leave Sirius' side just yet.

He hummed in confirmation before (rather reluctantly) letting you go. The house had been empty and cold for years so in an attempt to revive it Harry, Remus, Tonks and baby Teddy were due to move in. You two started with the guest room that would become a nursery for Teddy. Magic made cleaning much easier but being around Sirius meant more time joking around than actually being productive.

"This whole bloody house smells like dirty boxes." He said with a huff and a wave of his hand to open the window.

The two of you sat for longer than you'd like to admit trying to put a crib together the muggle way. Soon you gave up and used magic, much to Sirius' dismay who insisted "it'll just be 5 more minutes". With a wave of your wand, the walls were coloured a soft sage green compared to the drab mud brown it was before. Things were finally coming together.

"Do you wonder what it's like?" Sirius asked as he set a few toys out onto the shelves.

"What what's like?" You asked from your spot at the bookshelf.

"Being a parent." He clarified.

You shrugged and put down your copy of ABCs with Merlin. "I suppose... I kind of assume I won't have kids. I'm too old now."

"Nonsense!" He replied quickly.

You raised your brows and crossed your arms. "I know you're about to mention something about Moony but shall I remind you he didn't carry the child?" You countered.

"You make it sound like you're ancient." He scoffed. "Don't rule it out, darling."

You let out a laugh and returned to your task of sorting the shelves. "It takes two to have a baby and I don't exactly have a lineup of people wanting to impregnate me.”

"I sure hope not." He said incredulously. "Now, what colour should the walls in the master room be?"

You furrowed your brows. What on earth did he mean by I sure hope not? Instead of letting yourself dwell on it later, you decided to outright ask him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He looked perplexed. "What? The colour of the master room?"

"No, no... that you sure hope there isn't people lined up for me?" You said crossing your arms a tad defensively.

Sirius, to put things simply, had a habit of being rude sometimes without realizing it. So, you were expecting a backhanded comment about your looks or a joke about how long you've been single. "Well, wouldn't exactly be the best for my odds." He said with a chuckle. "Now, the room colour." He repeated holding the swatches up.

"To hell with the swatches Sirius! What are you talking about!" You all but yelled at him. Was this a joke? Did he find out you were in love with him and decided to subtly tease you about it? How had he even figured it out? You felt yourself going into overdrive. You were going to kill Moony. He had to be the one to tell him after all!

"The swatch is for your room too so it does matter," Sirius said bewildered.

"What?"

"What?" He repeated making you huff. He could be so frustrating sometimes.

"What do you mean my room?"

"Well, it's gonna be our room." He clarified.

You were surprised if that's what you could call it. Sirius thought you were moving in? And sharing a room with him? What on earth was happening? "Sirius, I'm not living here? I thought it was just you, Harry and Moonys family?"

"What? Why? It's meant to be a family home!" He protested with a pout that reminded you of the ones he wore as a student not getting his way with Professor McGonagall.

"We don't have room for me if Teddy has his own room. He'll need one as he grows up." You explained.

"That makes no sense! We would share a room."

"Why the hell would we share a room? We're adults we can't just be dormmates like we're kids." You said and he gave you a disgruntled look. “We've been sharing beds for 20 years why does it matter now?" He rebutted and crossed his arms.

"Don't you want privacy?" You asked.

"For what? We're dating so I don't see why you're being so weird about this."

Now that shocked you.

"DATING?" You shouted and he chuckled softly as he took a step towards you. "Since bloody when?"

"Well, we've had a weird relationship for 20 years I just assumed? Two wars change people." He said and you gaped at him.

"Bloody hell Sirius." You said rubbing your temples. This was not how you expected to find out your feelings were returned. Was this his loneliness speaking? His trauma?

"I'm sorry if I overstepped in thinking that..." He said rubbing the back of his neck and losing his confidence. He became sheepish under your scrutiny. Maybe it wasn't so outlandish of him to assume that. You two did kiss and cuddle a fair bit more than the average friends. But Sirius had always been fond of physical affection with his friends and you chalked it up to that. You honestly never expected him to feel the same way you did.

"I-" You began before swallowing down in an attempt to collect your thoughts. "-You weren't wrong. I just never really thought you'd feel that way about me."

He scoffed. "I've felt that way since we were in 5th year!"

"That makes no bloody sense! You hooked up with half the damn school but didn't look at me." You scoffed back.

"Because I was trying to hide my feelings like a dumb teenage boy! It killed me seeing you all over Peter so I deflected the only way I knew how." He countered. You rolled your eyes. You and Peter had gone out twice before realizing you were better off as friends.

"You don't get to do this Sirius. You can't just say you've liked me for more than 20 damn years and not made a move." You said pointing your finger at him accusingly.

"Need I remind you I was in prison for half of it. And I just asked what colour you want our room to be." He replied with a huff.

You were silent. He wasn't wrong after all but in your overflow of emotions, you chose to place all the blame on him. "I..." You looked down. "I'm sorry. I just always thought I wasn't your type."

He took a step closer and gently held your shoulders. "It's my fault for not letting you know how utterly in love with you I am."

Hearing those words come out of his mouth shot electricity through your body. It was a euphoric feeling you could definitely get used to feeling all the time. You looked up at him and cupped his cheek softly. For the first time, you realized the way you looked at him was the same way he looked at you: with utter love and devotion. You were so worried about not letting your feelings for him spill that you didn't realize you'd been dating the man of your dreams this whole time. The man you'd longed for but thought was unattainable.

"I love you too..." You said through happy tears. "I have for so long."

"Now darling, what colour for our bedroom?" He said with a perfect smirk and a kiss to your temple.

It took two wars but you and Sirius were creating the silly little family you always dreamed of.

taglist: @writing-wh0re

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black one shot #marauders #marauders x reader

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bvccy · 4 years ago

Text

Tenderness and Ferocity | 3. The Dream and the Third Day

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes x Hydra!Reader Fic Synopsis: The Winter Soldier is starting to make stupid mistakes in the field, which is Bucky's way of trying to wrest back control and sabotage his handlers. Hydra brings a new doctor to figure out what's wrong with him and fix it. As she spends time with him, she becomes fond of the Winter Soldier, and he becomes fond of her. Bucky has other ideas. Or, a fic in which the Winter Soldier is the good guy and Bucky is actually the bad guy. Warnings for this chapter: Angst, Smut, Noncon Word count: 2334 Read on AO3: [link] [Previous Chapter] [Fic Masterlist] [Next Chapter]

"Life in essence can only be sustained because of the discontinuity. Why else does one sleep? Not to rest, but above all to forget. [...] If one could prevent mankind from sleeping, I am convinced that a massacre without end would ensue; it would mean the end of history." — Emil Cioran

All the useless gadgets clattered, without clattering, to the floor. The exposed skin of her back shone against the pressing dark, under a light that wasn't there. Her arms stretched out in front of her to grab the table, to clench in little fists, to crawl away from him... He clasped both her wrists in one heavy hand while he held her by the hip with the other. The stranger looked unfamiliar and out of place, yet boyishly handsome, a lissome thoroughbred cut from pale stone.

He'd already yanked her shirt halfway down her back, leaving a delicate pair of peachy straps to cut into her shoulders as she tried to pull herself up and away. With his other hand, he raised the black flag of her skirt inch by hurried inch. Two flesh hands, pawing at her squirming silhouette.

Those legs that had teased him so were now buckled in a tangle of red lace, at once parted and constricted and leaving her fully victim to him. Above her he loomed, then leaned, slowly down to feel her warmth, his dark green shirt sticking against her back.

In a voice dry with disuse he taunted her to say that she wanted it, to beg for it, though he sounded utterly disinterested and his eyes — he couldn't actually see his eyes, but he could hear that same disuse and disinterest ringing in their glare. She whimpered underneath him but said nothing, insulted from both directions by his grimy touch and transparent insults.

"Ignorance is bliss, isn't it?" said the stranger — but not to him, nor to her — as he buried his face in her fragrant hair and his hips into hers and himself into her... But no relief came, nor satisfaction, and it felt like no matter how close he got to her, couldn't be further away.

He battered and battered and broke through, with great delight at just the effort, and he made tremors rise then relent in her tense legs. Her high heels tapped against the floor in a trembling rhythm that undercut her plaintive moans until he stopped, and settled inside her, and laughed against her shoulder in a harsh exhale. He taunted her over how she sounded, how she felt, how he felt in her.

The more she withdrew, the more aggressively he followed, always fighting her and pulling the fight out of her in honeydew dollops that had nowhere left to go but to seep and stain his nice trousers. Her shoulders went up in a useless attempt to hide, but he squeezed her wrists in warning and bit her shoulder, the nape of her neck, anywhere he could reach that would punish her until she learned to stay still.

"Oooh yesss, that's it... I hate you so much." he laughed in manic joy, eyes falling closed against her throat.

The hand that held her hip squeezed her closer, pressing her so desperately against him like he was trying to crawl up inside and never leave. She whined in pain, muffled by her arms and the table. The stranger cooed against her ear and teased against her hips, turned her inside out and back together, discordant with her mewls and wails as he clung to her and she unconsciously to him the more his galloping pace opened her up and brought her out to meet him.

He wasn't so much pleasing himself as punishing her, and only interrupted his focus to laugh or hiss at some new-discovered throbbing, a frisson to rub against, a frothy surrender that he worked hard to push through until she took it again.

"I'm gonna kill you," he snarled down at her. "I swear I'm gonna kill you..."

No amount of resistance could carry her through his punishing thrusts, and no surrender was enough, and it all went on and on until the threads holding her up started to unravel, leaving her a blushing rough and bloody shade that the stranger could claim as an extension of himself. He rubbed away the parts that weren't base and grimed up what was left. Only thoughtless sounds came out of her now as she struggled to fit him, and fit into him.

The stranger heaved hotly with the effort of holding still, feeling over and through her deliberately and seeking still more, pressing his body down to suppress her new, aching, wet shivers.

With a pain melting through her surrender, down, down into pleasure, she tried to plead with him and she moaned his name, his real name, but after the first flush of recognition he stopped caring because he knew he wouldn't remember it anyway and —

Wait, why wouldn't he remember it?

Eyes shot open only to be greeted by the cement ceiling of his cell. The Soldier sighed and turned his head, looking at the corner where the bulbous little camera was. He looked to the door and saw the parting screen still closed shut — he was awake too early. With a groan, he turned over in his cot and pressed the cold metal hand where he ached.

On their third session, after the guardsmen left, he stepped into the room to find a collection of strange equipment and wires on the table, and a mix of subtle scents coming from two wooden containers. She sat in her chair, waiting for him with a smile, her sleek legs crossed together tightly. She wasn't wearing her lab coat anymore.

"Good morning." she said as they closed the door. "Come on in, sit down. None of this stuff is going to hurt you, I promise."

Reluctantly, he obeyed, his boots sounding slow and heavy through the room as he made his way toward her. He let himself fall in the seat and rested his hands on his tense thighs.

"It's just a GSR monitor. I'll only strap these around your fingers, you won't feel a thing." She demonstrated by wrapping one around her finger, wiggling, holding it up for his doubtful eyes. He had no choice anyway, so he rested his right arm on the table. She took his hand and opened the palm up, holding it gently while her other hand went to a little tube and scooped up a salty-smelling goo.

"For conductivity." she explained as she rubbed it just barely in his tough skin. "Be grateful it's not an EEG, otherwise I'd have to rub this stuff into your scalp. You'd look like a punk that got lost in the rain." she laughed, but it died quickly as the Soldier frowned and shifted in his seat.

Then she took two of the straps and wrapped one around his index, another around his middle finger, and turned his palm back down. She clicked the machine on and it beeped in confirmation, beginning a reading of his skin and what was going on underneath.

In plain terms it was a rudimentary lie detector, meant to scan for stress and some primitive emotions. Maybe he knew that or he didn't, but she could tell she had to work him into it, calm him down before she could get an accurate reading of what moved him.

"Do you know what time it is?"

"You have a watch." he grunted, looking at the worn leather strap around her wrist.

"Yes, but do you know?" she smiled.

"0803 hours."

"Yes. Do you know where we are?"

"Headquarters Alpha 3."

"Good. Do you know what day of the week it is?"

"No."

"Did you sleep last night?"

"Yes."

"Did you have any dreams?"

"No." he said with a sardonic smile. The line on the monitor moved ever-so-slightly, but it could just be a reaction of their tiff about it the other day. Or, he was lying to her again.

They spent the rest of their session with him strapped up to it while she made use of a couple of boxes and the little things inside. With eyes closed, he had to guess what she placed between his fingers: a piece of velvet, silk, a pocket watch, a cufflink, a snow globe.

The edge that separated the Asset from whoever he was before was smudged only so slightly, by necessity, the way it was with all the other soldiers in the program — they could still talk, after all, and read and write, and still employ the complexities of hand-to-hand and armed combat, all things they learned in a past life and used now for Hydra's ends. What made her soldier the best was how sharp that edge was, how steady — until it wasn't.

He retained good coordination, if his finely drawn clock was anything to go by, a steadiness that an unbalanced brain would have found difficult. They had tried, with past soldiers, to split the two brain hemispheres physically, severing the membrane that bridged between them in an effort to isolate the old soldier from the new.

The right hemisphere housed contextual perception and feeling, while the left was honed and focused and precise. They even grew to slightly different sizes, in parts, even though the skull that covers them is evenly shaped. It remained in mainstream medicine a mystery, one that Hydra explored with relish.

But all that resulted from their experimental surgeries were monstrous malfunctions. As it turned out, the left hemisphere dominated most of the body even when separated, and Hydra's soldiers were left imprisoned in the right brain, at best controlling one arm and some eyesight.

Removing the whole left hemisphere also didn't yield any improvements, even after recalibrating what remained. There were even more extreme experiments suggested, but they were deemed too damaging to put the soldiers through, too harmful for staff morale, and too uncertain in their results.

It was clear that a successful subject had to keep all his faculties, all the useful memories in whatever form, while imposing the dominance of the right hemisphere over the left. In a way, the Soldier had been there all along, growing with the unwitting owner of that body, learning, judging for himself and reaching, inevitably, different conclusions.

There always was something slightly more sinister in the right hemisphere, which only emerged when it was freed from the left, or when the left was in a dream state and its control dropped. So it was clear which side Hydra drew its soldiers from, when it freed that part of them with their infernal brain-machines.

The wavering of that edge also explained why her Soldier had such excellent memory, remembering even obscure European countries well, but also their capitals, which Hydra never saw fit to teach him. And as she went through more little things that stood out against the strictures of their base and his missions, it emerged that, though steady, the line that separated her Soldier from someone else was kept at his convenience.

The man underneath was generously lending his memories of what fancy little cufflinks and snow globes felt like, just so the Soldier who had never seen them before could give the right answers. But what she needed to figure out was how much of the control was the Soldier's intention, and how much was unconscious reflex. If the man aimed to sabotage his missions, would the Soldier even know? Worse, if he wasn't aware of anyone else sharing his brain, could he really control him?

Would he want to?

For Hydra, her mission was simple: root out the part that dissents, make it submit. They were too focused on efficiency to know what they were truly asking for. They had no idea how bad it could get, or how good...

"That's enough for now. You can open your eyes while I get the next batch, we're almost done. This last bit is just some food tests."

"As long as it's not from the mess hall."

She was halfway to the sink, a small wooden crate in her hands, when she started laughing. "I promise it's not. So it's true what they say? Way to a man's heart..."

"Is through his rib cage."

Her laughter rang through again, but he kept his eyes straight ahead, focusing on the sound of her running her hands under the water, arranging things on a plate, and wiping her hands dry on the threadbare cloth that hung there.

"Close your eyes now." she spoke as she stepped closer from behind. The plate clinked as it met the metallic table, right by his hand, and he smelled and felt the heat of her as she stood right in front of him.

"I'll give you some things to taste, and you just tell me what they are. And they're all pretty soft. Alright? First one. Open..."

Something was nagging him from the back of his brain again, jeering at him for the childish position he was in, but he couldn't think of anything to feel ashamed over.

"Strawberry."

"Good. Now, swallow and... again..."

"Grapes."

"That's right. This next one is a bit, well... Just open and tell me."

He bit into a soft and shapeless thing that tasted like, if anything, a green paste. "I don't know what this is."

"Avocado. Maybe you've never had it before. Better make a wish, then."

"What?"

"Never mind. Open for me again..."

"Mint?"

"Yes, that's a mint leaf. It's perfectly safe, you can swallow. Now, this one will come in a spoon, so open wide." She let the cloying thing slip on his tongue and the taste spread in his mouth in a way that was familiar but unusual.

"Tastes like... roses."

"Yes, that's rose petal jam. If the Director only knew what I spent my funding on, spoiling you..." she giggled, but it died quickly as he kept frightfully still and his jaw tensed. From the corner of her eye she saw the GSR give an angry twitch.

"Right, one more and we're done. Open, and tell m—"

"Plums."

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bibbawrites · 4 years ago

Text

Made Your Mark On Me, a Golden Tattoo - Single Dad!Charlie x Owen

THIS IS PART 10 OF THE SINGLE DAD!CHARLIE SERIES, YOU CAN FIND THE OTHER PARTS HERE

Request: none

Word Count: 3760 words

Summary: Part 10 of Single Dad!Charlie, Owen comes to LA to stay with Charlie, Margaux and Meghan, and the boys go on their first date

Warnings: swearing, sexual references, implied sexual content pretty sure everyone knows at this point but this does include romantic chowen, remember this is fictional, if you dont like that just dont read :)

A/N: another day another part lol, i have far too much written for this series considering there is no demand for it but i’m enjoying it so i’m gonna keep writing purely just for @happinessinthedarkesttimes and myself lol also! a new nickname for margaux has been unlocked haha she has far too many cause every person keeps giving her their own nickname and ive lost count of how many there are... anyways, enjoy!

Tag List: @happinessinthedarkesttimes @molinaroberts @joynersgoatblog @courageous-she @littlemissaddict @gloomybrieyxb @itsyagorlemmalyn @jatpxmultifan @moneybagmgk @emeliii1 @mybradforddream (the strike through means it wont let me tag you)

Char sent a message to OPJ

Char owweeeennnnnnnnnnn

Char come to la

OPJ why?

Char i miss you

Char wanna kiss your pretty face

Char and your pretty lips

Char and your pretty 🍆

OPJ charlieeeeeee

Char what? i did nothing wrong

OPJ you just said you wanna suck my dick

Char i never said such a thing

Char read the messages, i only said i would like to kiss your pretty face and your pretty lips and your pretty 🍆

OPJ and we all know what that emoji means

Char get your head out of the gutter honestly

Char maybe i just love eggplant

OPJ ugh whatever

Char so will you?

OPJ will i what?

Char come to la

Char we’ve been officially boyfriends for almost three months and we haven’t even had our first date yet

OPJ when do you want me

Char right now

OPJ that’s not possible bub

Char bub?

OPJ trying something, yes or no?

Char meh i don’t hate it

OPJ i’ll keep looking then

Char anyways, i booked you a flight...

OPJ char you didn’t have to

Char i know i’m just so desperate to see you

OPJ what time and day?

Char ...

Char today 3pm...

OPJ it’s 11am now

Char you better get packing

OPJ already am

Char oh i know you are ;)

OPJ i didnt mean it like that and you know it

OPJ you’re gonna be the death of me Gillespie

Char i know ❤️

The second Charlie spotted Owen exiting the gate he was jumping into the blond’s arms, glad that they both had masks on to prevent him from kissing Owen senseless with hundreds of people around.

“God I missed you.” He muttered, face pressed into Owen’s neck.

“I missed you more.” Owen replied, pulling back slightly. “Where’s Maggie?”

“With Meghan. She’s visiting for a little bit so she offered to look after her while I came to get you.” Charlie explained, grabbing Owen’s carry on as they headed through the airport to baggage claim.

“Is she staying with you?” Owen asked.

“She is, but I may or may not have booked the four of us into a hotel for a few days. She leaves on Thursday so if you wanna stay after that we’ll just go back to my place.” Charlie said.

“We’re staying in a hotel?” Owen grinned, coming to a stop at the baggage carousel, his eyes focused on looking for his suitcase.

“Yeah! Mags is pumped, she loves hotels, especially high rise ones. We’re going back to mine to collect the two of them then we’ll head there.” Charlie said

“Does Meghan know about...” Owen trailed off, glancing over at Charlie who shook his head.

“I didn’t tell her, I wanted to find out what you wanted to do first.” Charlie replied. Owen smiled.

“I’m okay with telling her.” He said.

“Or maybe we just act like a couple around her and see how long it takes her to notice.” Charlie suggested and Owen shook his head.

“You’re evil.” He spotted his bag, leaving Charlie’s side for a few moments before coming back over, his suitcase trailing behind him.

“Don’t think it will take long, cause the second that front door shuts behind us I’m gonna be all over you.” Charlie grinned, taking Owen’s free hand once the younger boy was back by his side, leading him out of the airport. Owen blushed slightly.

“Can’t wait.”

True to his word, the second that the door was shut Charlie was shoving Owen against the wall and kissing him with so much force that he thought his lips might bleed.

“Fuck, missed you so much.” Charlie mumbled against Owen’s lips, groaning when Owen’s fingers dug into his hips.

“Char...” Owen gasped out and Charlie just kissed him harder, wanting to make up for lost time.

“When you’re done trying to swallow each other, we’re in the kitchen.” Meghan’s voice called and Charlie groaned, stepping back from Owen. He didn’t want to stop, but he knew if they kept going they wouldn’t be able to.

“We should go to them.” He said, and Owen nodded, still slightly stunned from the aggression of the kiss.

“Probably.” He agreed, but neither of them made any attempt to move, so Charlie nuzzled his face into Owen’s neck, just taking in the familiar scent of his boyfriend.

“This hotel, how is the room situation going?” Owen asked, his hand trailing through Charlie’s hair. Charlie lifted his head up.

“I booked a two bedroom suite. Margaux and Meghan can share one room and we’ll take the other.” He said. Owen smiled.

“Okay good.” He replied. Charlie raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” He asked.

“Remember your texts?” Owen smirked, and Charlie’s eyes widened at the realisation.

“Don’t be so horny.” He muttered, hitting at Owen’s arm. Owen grinned.

“Says the guy who just had me pressed up against a wall.” He retaliated.

“We can hear you, you know that right?” Meghan called, and both Charlie and Owen froze.

“We did not.” Charlie called back, and both boys decided that was their cue to head into the kitchen, where Meghan and Margaux were waiting.

“Papa!” Margaux exclaimed the second they entered the room, jumping down off her chair and rushing over to Owen, jumping into his arms. Meghan gave Charlie a look, eyebrows raised.

“So, finally got your shit together then?” She questioned. Charlie glanced towards Owen and Margaux, a smile appearing on his face when he saw the way the four year old was clinging to the blond boy.

This was how things were supposed to be.

Less than an hour later the family of four had checked into their home for the next few days and travelled up to the fourteenth floor to find their room.

Once they found it Charlie tapped the keycard against the door and pushed on the handle when the light changed to green. Margaux pushed past him, running into the room and heading straight towards the door to the balcony, pressing her face into the glass.

“Woah!” She exclaimed, standing on her toes to try to see the road below.

“Good view?” Charlie asked, placing the bags he was carrying down on the couch, before opening the door and letting Margaux out onto the balcony, trailing closely behind her as Margaux rushed over to the railing.

“Look Daddy.” She grinned as Charlie squatted down behind her, placing a hand on her back gently.

“Wow look how tiny those people are.” Charlie said, and Margaux giggled.

“They’re ants!” She replied, leaning back into Charlie.

“For someone who travels as much as she does you’d think she’d be used to it by now.” Meghan joked quietly to Owen as the two of them stood and watched the interaction.

“Especially since we lived in an apartment building in Vancouver while we filmed.” Owen replied.

“Kids.” Meghan shook her head in amusement.

“You wanna see your room baby?” Charlie questioned, and Margaux nodded excitedly.

“Okay let’s figure it out.” Charlie stood back up, taking Margaux’s hand and leading her back into the main room.

“Am I gonna stay with you Daddy?” Margaux asked, and Charlie shook his head.

“No you’re gonna stay with Meggy.” He said, motioning towards his younger sister.

“It’s gonna be like a sleepover.” Meghan grinned. Margaux pouted.

“But I wanna stay with Daddy.” She whined.

“You’ll be with Daddy until you have to go to sleep, okay?” Charlie told her, pushing open the door, revealing the room with the two double beds.

“And look at this nice big bed you get to stay in all by yourself. You can fit all of your toys around you.” He added, and Margaux frowned but didn’t protest.

“Which bed do you want Mini? The window one?” Meghan questioned.

Margaux glanced at the beds before nodding. Charlie placed her bag onto the bed, unzipping it to reveal the several stuffed toys and dolls they had packed.

“Look, we’ll put all your friends on your bed.” He said as he placed the toys out onto the bed, pulling out Margaux’s blanket last. “And your blankie, and look how nice this looks. You’ll have so much fun sleeping here.”

“And we can even sing with each other at night, or gossip about secret girl stuff.” Meghan added, sitting on the edge of her own bed.

“What girl stuff?” Margaux questioned, climbing up next to her aunt and snuggling into her arms.

“Butterflies and glitter.” Charlie joked, and Owen rolled his eyes at the reference, turning and leaving the room as a response.

“We’ll stay up all night talking about boys.” Meghan grinned and Charlie’s smile instantly turned into a frown.

“Hey! No.” He reprimanded.

“I’m joking Charlie, don’t be a party pooper.” Meghan rolled her eyes.

“You joke, but we had a full conversation a month ago about how someone wants a boyfriend.” Charlie said, and Margaux looked up.

“I want a boyfriend.” She chimed in. Meghan laughed.

“You’re four, why do you need a boyfriend?” She asked. Margaux frowned.

“Daddy has a boyfriend.” She stated. Meghan smirked, looking up at Charlie.

“Does he now?” She teased.

“Shut the fuck up, you knew that. You literally just asked if I had gotten my shit together.” Charlie said, and Meghan rolled her eyes at him.

“You didn’t confirm it.” She retorted. Charlie shook his head.

“Hey Meghan, Owen’s my boyfriend.” He stated, ignoring the flutter in his chest at those words.

“Wow! Thank you so much for telling me, that’s so nice of you!” Meghan replied, her tone thick with sarcasm.

“Don’t be sarcastic.” Charlie retaliated.

“What’s that Taylor Swift lyric? The one about looking at him like the stars, that’s you and him. It’s honestly about time that you got your shit together.” Meghan said, flopping backwards onto her bed, giggling when Margaux climbed on top of her.

“Tay’s my boyfriend.” The tiny blonde stated and Charlie sighed.

“Who?” Meghan shot him a confused look.

“Taylor Kare. Who played the young version of Bobby in the show. For some reason she’s decided she wants him to be her boyfriend.” Charlie explained. Meghan grinned.

“I don’t blame her, he’s cute.” She said. Charlie shot her a look and she rolled her eyes before sitting up, Margaux clinging to her like a koala.

“Hey Mini, why don’t we go get some food and bring it back while your Daddy unpacks all of your stuff.” Meghan suggested. Margaux smiled.

“Yeah! Can we get KFC?” She asked.

“Of course we can.” Meghan grinned, before turning to Charlie. “Want anything?”

“Just get one of those big buckets of chicken and we’ll figure it out.” He said as Meghan stood up, grabbing her mask.

“Okay. I’m stealing your wallet.” She told him.

“Of course you are.” Charlie rolled his eyes, but handed his wallet over to his younger sister nonetheless, before leaning in to kiss Margaux gently on the side of her head.

“Bye baby, have fun and be good for Meggy, okay?” He said. Margaux nodded.

“Bye Daddy, love you.” She replied.

“Love you too.” Charlie smiled.

Meghan and Margaux left, the four year old chattering away in her aunty’s arms about something she had seen in Bluey, and Charlie waited until he couldn’t hear their voices anymore to move.

“Owen?” He called, starting to head across the suite to the room he and Owen were sharing.

“Yeah?” Owen called back. Charlie pushed open the door, finding a much larger room with a large king size bed in the middle of the room, and a flat screen tv hung on the wall. Owen was unpacking his bag, hanging clothes in the wardrobe, when Charlie entered.

“Meg and Mags went to get food.” Charlie told him.

“Okay cool.” Owen replied, looking up after a few moments and frowning when he saw the look on Charlie’s face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Remember the texts?” Charlie raised an eyebrow and Owen’s eyes lit up.

“Come here.” He said, but Charlie didn’t move.

“We’ve gotta be quick.” Charlie informed him and Owen nodded.

“Got it.”

And with that Charlie rushed over to Owen, kicking the door shut behind him.

They were a naked mess of sweaty bodies and tangled limbs when Charlie decided to bring up their plans for the night.

“Oh by the way, I have our date planned.” He said as Owen played with his hair.

“Am I allowed to know what it is? Or when?” Owen questioned. Charlie nodded slightly.

“Tonight. At 10:30pm.” He informed the blonde. “And it’s a surprise.”

“10:30?” Owen repeated. Charlie hummed in response. Owen sighed.

“That’s all I’m getting?”

“Yep.” Charlie murmured.

“We’re back!” Meghan’s voice called through the suite and both Charlie and Owen jumped up in fear.

“Fuck, get dressed.” Charlie instructed, tossing clothes towards Owen, before calling back to Meghan. “Coming!”

In record time they were both dressed and came out of the bedroom, trying to look as casual as possible as they walked over to the table where Meghan had placed all the food.

“Daddy, you didn’t unpack my stuff.” Margaux pouted, and Charlie placed a soft kiss on the top of her head as an apology.

“Sorry baby, Daddy got distracted.” He told her as he grabbed some food for her and put it on one of the plates Owen had brought over to the table.

“Oh gross, you didn’t.” Meghan groaned, glancing between Charlie and Owen, who had turned a bright red in embarrassment. Charlie just shrugged, a guilty smile on his face. Meghan fake gagged.

“That’s disgusting Char.” She reprimanded. Charlie shook his head.

“It’s natural.” He retaliated. Meghan hit him.

“Shut up, I don’t want to know anything else.” She said. The table fell silent for a moment, before Margaux decided to speak up.

“Daddy we saw a puppy when we were walking.” She grinned, and Charlie pulled a shocked face.

“Oh my gosh, really? Tell me all about it.” He replied, and for the entire meal Margaux rambled, telling them story after story.

Just before 10:30, Charlie and Owen arrived at their date destination. Owen looked up at the sign, frowning slightly when he saw it.

“A tattoo parlour?” He questioned. Charlie smiled, despite the fact that Owen couldn’t see it through his mask.

“You’ve been talking about getting a new tattoo, so I figured we could get a new one together.” He suggested. Owen’s frown melted, a soft look replacing it.

“Why is that oddly sweet?” He teased, leaning his head into Charlie’s shoulder. Charlie grinned.

“Cause I’m oddly sweet?” He replied. Owen laughed.

“That you are.”

“Do you have any ideas of what you wanna get?” Charlie questioned as he held the door open. Owen gave him a small smile, walking through the door as he answered.

“I have a couple of ideas.” He said. “Things that I think would look cool.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Charlie’s eyes lit up with curiosity. Owen shook his head.

“Secret. Want it to be a surprise.” He grinned. Charlie chuckled.

“Fair enough.”

After going through the basics and signing some paperwork, it was time for them to get their tattoos. The tattoo artist led them through to the backroom and for the whole time they were there Charlie and Owen didn’t once let go of each other’s hands.

The two boys left the tattoo parlour a few hours later, hand in hand and new tattoos covered in a protective cling film.

“Do you wanna head back?” Charlie questioned, swinging their hands between them. Owen sighed.

“Not really, but we probably should. It’s late.” He answered. Charlie nodded in agreement.

“True. Plus the date doesn’t have to end just because we go back to the hotel... There’s a nice comfy bed and some red wine with our names on it.” He raised an eyebrow and Owen smiled.

“Fancy.”

“Only the best for you.” Charlie grinned, and Owen pulled him close, pulling down their masks so that their lips could meet in a rough kiss.

And if it took them almost an hour to make the 15 minute walk back to the hotel then that was just between them.

Charlie unlocked the door to the hotel room and pushed it open, frowning when he spotted Margaux sat on the ground, staring out the window at the city lights.

“Why are you still awake Mags?” He asked as he pulled off his mask, drawing the four year old’s attention to them.

“Missed you.” She said softly, her voice wobbling.

“Oh baby, come here.” Charlie squatted down and the four year old ran into his arms, burying her face in his neck. Owen nodded towards their bedroom and Charlie gave him a small smile to let the younger boy know he understood.

“You were gone but you said you wouldn’t go.” Margaux mumbled.

“You knew I was gonna go out with Papa for a little bit, remember? It’s okay, I’m back, and I promise I’m not going anywhere. Okay?” He tangled his hand through her curls and the four year old hummed in response.

“Okay.” She agreed, her voice no louder than a whisper. Thinking quickly, Charlie decided the best course of action would be distraction.

“Hey, you wanna see Daddy’s new tattoos?” He asked, and Margaux nodded, moving back slightly. Charlie smiled at her.

“First I got this one here.” He lifted his arm to show her the heart tattoo on his ribcage, the plastic mostly obscuring it.

“And I got this one here for my favourite person in the whole entire world.” He finished, showing her the tiny cursive M inked into his wrist.

“An M for Margaux, so I always have you with me.” He said, and she peered at the tiny ink on his wrist, a small smile appearing on her face.

“I like it.” She told him. “Can I have one?” Charlie laughed.

“When you’re all grown up, okay?” He replied, ruffling her hair.

“Okay.” She agreed. They fell silent, and Charlie was just about to suggest that it was time for Margaux to hop into her bed when she spoke up again.

“Daddy?” Her voice sounded small.

“Yeah baby?” Charlie replied.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Margaux questioned, already leaning back into his arms.

“Of course baby. You got Mr Penguin?” He asked.

She held the penguin up and Charlie grinned.

“Great, let’s go.”

He stood up, taking her spare hand to lead her towards the bedroom, pushing the door open to where Owen was sat, already in bed with Netflix loaded on the TV.

“Papa! I’m gonna sleep here with you.” Margaux exclaimed, diving onto the bed as Owen raised an eyebrow, looking towards Charlie with a knowing look.

“Oh really? What about your bed?” He asked.

“She was sad.” Charlie pouted, and Owen just shook his head.

“Come on baby, in you get.” Charlie said, letting the four year old climb into the bed before climbing in after her, grinning when she settled into his arms, her head on his chest.

It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, and once she did, Owen spoke up, his voice soft.

“You know one day you gotta stop letting her climb into bed with you.” He whispered. Charlie made a noise in response, his eyes never once leaving Margaux.

“One day... just not today.” He replied.

“The longer you give in the harder it’s gonna be for you. Cause I know it’s as much you as it is her.” Owen said, and Charlie sighed, his fingers tangled through Margaux’s curls as the four year old slept peacefully in his arms.

“I know.” He started. “I just...”

Owen reached out, linking his hand through one of Charlie’s and giving it a light squeeze.

“It’s stupid.” Charlie mumbled. Owen moved slightly, placing a kiss on the side of Charlie’s head.

“I’m sure it’s not.” He assured the older boy. Charlie was silent for a moment before talking.

“She’s just always been with me and has always needed me to do everything for her, and now she’s getting older and she can do all of these things on her own, and I just get worried that she’s not gonna need me any more, or she’ll decide that she doesn’t want these nights where she asks to sleep with me.” He rambled.

“You’re her dad. She’s always gonna need you Char.” Owen assured him. Charlie hummed in response, and Owen took that as a sign to change the topic, a small smile appearing on his face.

“So I’m guessing no post date make out session or red wine.” He joked, and Charlie sighed.

“Sorry.” He muttered. Owen rolled his eyes, snuggling as close to Charlie as he could get without disturbing Margaux.

“I was joking Char.” He said, and Charlie moved to place a soft kiss on Owen’s lips.

“I had a really good time tonight.” Owen whispered against Charlie’s lips and Charlie smiled.

“Me too.” He agreed.

“Do we have any plans tomorrow?” Owen inquired, and Charlie paused for a moment.

“Not that I know of. Why? Have something in mind?” He moved back slightly so that he could look at Owen’s face.

“I thought maybe the four of us could go play mini golf or something like that?” Owen suggested. Charlie smiled.

“That sounds like a lot of fun.” He answered. They fell into a comfortable silence, both boys closing their eyes, but there was something that Charlie knew he had to say. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath before speaking.

“Hey Owen?” He whispered. Owen opened his eyes, focusing on Charlie instantly.

“Yeah?” He questioned. Charlie smiled.

“I love you.” He murmured. Owen smiled, rubbing his nose against Charlie’s.

“Love you too Char.” He replied. Charlie shook his head.

“No... I’m in love with you.” He clarified. Owen’s jaw dropped slightly, but he recovered quickly.

“I’m in love with you too.” He returned, and Charlie lent in to kiss him gently.

“It scares me.” Owen whispered once they pulled apart. “How much I love you.”

“Honestly, me too. But we’re in this together. And I love you as much as you love me, so don’t overthink it, okay?” Charlie replied.

“Okay.” Owen agreed.

“We should get some sleep.” Charlie said after a moment and Owen nodded, placing once last kiss to Charlie’s lips.

“Sounds good. I love you.” He whispered, and Charlie could already feel himself drifting off as he whispered a response.

“I love you too Owen.”

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