#so we get to see these two idiots being menaces on the track once more

[satoryuuu]

You know what would be so poetic?

Just before the Abu Dhabi race of Lewis’s last season in F1 before he retires, Mercedes suddenly announces that one of their drivers can’t drive in the Abu Dhabi GP and they’re bringing back an ex driver as a temporary replacement

Enter: NICO ROSBERG

Lewis being there for nico’s last race and Nico being there for Lewis’s last race (NICO PLS BE ON COMMENTARY AND PODIUM INTERVIEWS FOR ABU DHABI 2024 FOR LEWIS’S LAST SEASON WITH MERCEDES

[luaspersona]

Snow Flower | kth (m)

pairing ↠ himbo!taehyung x reader (f. reader)

genre ↠ college!au; holiday!au; smut; humor; fluff; strangers to almost lovers to idiots to lovers; one-shot.

summary ↠ after making some terrible memories together, Taehyung wants nothing more than to never see you again; and he was pretty much succeeding — until he finds himself having to spend Christmas alone with you in the middle of nowhere.

rating ↠ +18

warnings ↠ taehyung is bi y’all; alcohol consumption; sexual tension; taehyung is a menace but he’s also stupid; some religious jokes are made; some kink shaming (tae is lowkey offended by furry kink?? idek); minor accident; very minor parent issues (this is really in the background, but i was going through stuff and writing it helped); a bunch of Christmas movies talk; taehyung is scared of grinch lol (i'm serious 💀); second hand embarrassment; pov switch; explicit smut (the warnings are long as fuck, so beware).

smut warnings 👀↠ mentions of anal; masturbation; orgasm denial; orgasm control; a whole lot of teasing; edging; dirty talk; pet names; soft dom!taehyung; switch!reader; fingering; light pussy slapping; nipple play; oral (f. and m. receiving); choking on cock; tae has a huge dick ‘cus it’s christmas and we deserve it; unprotected sex (pls don't do it. this is unhinged fiction); praise kink; marking; biting; light spanking; a splash of degradation (he calls reader a slut once); reader has sensitive thighs; tae has stamina for days; so much begging; a bit of overstimulation 'cus taehyung is a man on a mission; multiple orgasms; squirting; creampie; cum eating; it’s rough but it’s also super silly; they joke during sex, it's ridiculous; aftercare.

teaser ↠ (wc:0.8k) read it before to make sure this is for you ♡

word count ↠ 22k (7.5k are just smut y'all, i went off 🥴)

estimated reading time ↠ 60 minutes

note ↠ just wanna come out and say that i listened to mistletoe an unhealthy amount of times to get into the mood to write this and i think i’m damaged for life. also, i know it’s march lol, but i went through some shit™️ while writing this and it took some time to get back on track. to be honest, i almost gave up on this fic at least once a week, and it was hard as fuck to finish it. i struggled a lot with the plot until i was actually satisfied, but i'm pretty happy with how it turned out.

note² ↠ if this fic is finished, i have to thank @uarmymoonlight for lowkey bullying me into seeing this story through, always ready to motivate and help me brainstorm and fix plot points. you know i love you, and i hope you get a himbo to yourself one day. also wanna thank @vsualitae for being such a sweet listener, and for helping me through writer's block. you’re amazing, and i will cherish you forever, please don't give up on me because i'm terrible at replying.

note³ ↠ thank you again for @imakeamess for the amazing banner!

playlist ↠ this is what i think reader and tae’s playlist would look like

navigation | masterlist | permanent taglist | tell me your thoughts ♡

Jungkook suffering a car accident two days before Christmas was honestly so damn selfish of him.

It took five whole weeks of mature conversations (read: Jungkook calling Taehyung a pathetic little baby before resorting to messaging Taehyung’s mom) to convince Taehyung to go on this stupid Christmas trip to the middle of nowhere, only for Jungkook to think it’d be funny to drive his shit ass car straight against a light pole barely five minutes out of Soojin's dorm parking lot.

“You won’t be alone with her,” the asshole promised “Soojin and I will be there too”.

On top of that, Jungkook had the nerve to first go through a bunch of x-rays and cat scans before letting you and Taehyung — already settled in the shit chalet Soojin rented — know that him and Soojin would have to wait the 26th for the next bus to the hell hole that they mistook as a city, because no one in their right minds would willingly come here.

Well, of course Taehyung should’ve known that there was no way he could spend time in the same environment as you without wanting to kill himself: with or without Jungkook and Soojin, being reminded of your existence makes Taehyung feel nothing but nausea.

…

Ok, maybe he should rephrase that.

It’s not that he hates you, or anything. In fact, when Taehyung met you, hate was pretty much the opposite of what he was feeling. That night, in the frat’s living room, surrounded by dozens of other bodies as you danced to a song so loud he couldn’t even recognize, Taehyung swore you were the hottest, most sensual person he had ever seen.

It was one of the first times Taehyung went completely sober to a frat party, the only alcohol in his lips being the one he sucked straight out of your tongue. The choice of going teetotal had to do with the terrible lunch he made earlier that day that still rumbled in his stomach as he kissed down your chest (quick unrelated question: how much mayonnaise are you supposed to use in the pudding recipe to replace heavy whipping cream?).

Naturally, he couldn’t have thrown up before he went to the party — no, no, his stomach had to wait until you were straddling and grinding on him in one of the house’s empty bedrooms to push his excuse of a dessert out of his mouth.

Taehyung was pretty damn good at making up excuses to avoid people he slept with. But with you? He barely saw your tits and no fucking excuses were needed.

It took around two months for him to find his will to live again, and things started to go back to normal — until Jungkook started to date Soojin, that is. Don’t get him wrong, Taehyung loves Soojin and how she makes Jungkook happy and all that bullshit, he just hates the fact that she also happens to be your roommate.

[10:36] taehyung: jungkook how could u

[10:37] taehyung: i can’t believe u right now, istg

[10:37] taehyung: u could’ve come by bus with me, but nooooo

[10:37] taehyung: u absolutely HAD to suffer a fucking accident now, didn’t u??

[10:38] taehyung: i’ll never leave this room

[10:38] taehyung: if i don't die of shame before u are arrive, u are dead to me

[typing] taehyung: btw F for u and all, hope your leg’s fine, i lov

A loud thud startles Taehyung, making him drop his phone on the bed.

He waits a second to make sure his heart is still beating before slowly getting up and leaving his room. He steps around some bags placed on the floor near your chosen bedroom to reach the open front door.

Taehyung first notices your car parked near the house with the trunk open, before his eyes descend to your sprawled form on the icy ground, your head snapping up when he calls your name with a confused frown.

“Oh. Hi, Taehyung.”

“Wait, that sound was you slipping? Shit, you ok? Can you get up?”

“Yeah!” You assure, before he can cross the threshold. “Yes, don’t worry.”

You shift on the ground, but as soon as you place your hands behind you for leverage, your face turns into a grimace.

“Fuck”.

“What?”

You don’t answer, instead trying to find different ways to get up while avoiding moving your left arm, and failing adorably every time as the thickness of your clothes restrains your movements.

“Ok, maybe I can’t get up.” You slump back, sighing. 

He closes his coat and changes from his slippers quickly, sidestepping the frozen paths to make his way to you.

When Taehyung crouches by your side he is taken by a sudden urge to swallow his fist. As if the whole situation wasn’t already perfect, you simply had to become even prettier than the last time he saw you. Are you some kinda wine or something? Why the hell you gotta be so gorgeous for?

“Should I…” he starts “uhm, sorry, can I touch you?” Has his voice always been this high?

You nod, and Taehyung automatically starts to rub his hands together.

“What you doing?”

“My hands are cold.”

“I’m… laying on ice.” Your face softens with amusement.

He pauses.

“Right.”

He grabs your upper arms and helps you to your feet, stepping away as soon as you’re standing. 

“Thanks.”

You take your hand to your upper arm briefly, letting out a low hiss.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, think I hit my shoulder.”

“That sucks for you… damn.” He eloquently says.

You glance back at your car, slowly walking back to it. Taehyung assumes you’re going to close the trunk, but when you lean to secure a bag he calls for you once again.

“What you doing?”

“There’s more stuff to take.”

“What? You’ll hurt your shoulder.”

“Did that already.”

“Stop that, let me do it.”

“No, it’s—” you look at the luggage in front of you when he comes to your side “it’s kinda heavy.”

Taehyung chuckles through his shattered ego.

“I can manhandle just fine.” He cringes as soon as he says it.

“... Right.” You clear your throat. “I got Soojin’s stuff too, and I’m pretty sure Jungkook put some of his shit in before I closed it.”

Your roommate’s name rings some bells in Taehyung’s head, and he realizes that this is the longest you two have talked since he… well, y’all know it by now, no need to keep remembering.

“Just tell me where you want them.” 

You reluctantly step away from the car, and Taehyung takes a deep breath: he can’t afford to further embarrass himself in front of you, and maybe it’ll be a good opportunity to make some new, healthier, memories with you.

There are only two things that could explain why Taehyung’s forehead vein is almost popping from carrying a few bags and boxes for less than ten minutes.

First: he should consider finding the fastest way out of here because you brought bodies for a Christmas trip.

But then, this isn't really fair because he sure never had problems handling some bodies before.

…

Shit, that came out terrible. Just to be clear: he means in sex.

Which brings him to the second possible explanation: Taehyung should probably start tagging along Jungkook to the gym, because holy fuck why are things foggy?

The worst, of course, is that you’re watching him, and there’s only so much panting someone can get away with without sounding on the verge of death, so Taehyung does his best to swallow his grunts as he crosses the living room to drop a bag near your bedroom door.

“Taehyung?” You ask, and wow. You look so pretty surrounded by little white spots. Who would’ve thought.

“Yeah.” He gasps.

“You ok?”

“Absolutely! Why you ask?” His laugh sounds more like asthmatic breathing than anything else.

He blinks a few times to try and see you with some definition, and he's like, 63% sure you just furrowed your brows.

“The last thing is Soojin’s gift to Jungkook, so you can leave it there and I’ll help you get it later.”

“What? I got everything else already, it’s fine.”

“Yeah, and thank you for it, but—”

“Really, no sweat. Where?” 

You consider him for a second, sighing when you point to the spot between the window and the fireplace.

“Can you place it there?”

Taehyung nods before he returns outside, carefully making his way to the car and sitting on the open trunk as soon as you’re out of view.

He can't pass out. He looked it up before and changing names is way too expensive.

So, instead, he turns to the last thing you brought: a large box, enveloped in a wrapping paper so ugly he immediately knows Jungkook chose it. He adjusts himself to grab it, but almost sobs as he realizes it’s the heaviest yet.

He takes a deep breath and secures it in his hold, sprinting back inside, blessed enough not to fall (because the universe couldn’t possibly be that cruel). He rushes to the spot you indicated and sets the box down, unable to prevent the most ridiculous little whimper to leave his lips.

“... Taehyung.”

“Again, I’m fine, it was pretty light actually.” He says, but inhales so loud that he’s sure he sucked all the room's air.

“That was a drum set you just carried.”

“... what.”

“Soojin bought Jungkook a drum set. I think it weighs about 55kg.” You explain, biting back a smile.

“Well. As I said, no biggie.” Please don’t faint. Please don’t faint. Please don’t faint. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Oh. Kinda sore, but I'm fine.”

“Great.” He slowly gets up, swinging to his room. “I’ll go uh, unpack.”

If you say anything after that, Taehyung doesn't hear it, closing the door to his room and crashing onto the bed. He spreads his arms wide and lets out a long, tortuous breath.

He allows his body to relax for a second, dazedly looking up. He’s not sure if his vision is now compromised, if he’s about to pass out or if there’s mold in the room’s ceiling.

Hum.

The price of this place starts to make more sense by the second.

A notification draws his attention to his phone beside him. 

[10:58] kookie: just try not to puke on her and you’ll be fine (;

Here’s something people don’t tell you about fuckboys: they are often really lonely and depressed.

…

Oh, no— not Taehyung, though, he’s just fine. 

He enjoys the simplicity of getting his dick wet and the minimal brain power it takes to flirt.

Besides, people say love makes you stupid and Taehyung promised Jungkook he’d try to be less of that. So yeah, he likes to cuddle and maybe do some of that stupid corny shit sometimes, but as soon as the knot in his stomach starts to feel a hell lot like butterflies he’s dipping out. 

The sound of your door closing across the hall snaps him out of his mind. Fucking finally!

Jumping out of his bed, Taehyung furtively exits his room, dragging his feet towards the kitchen. It takes around ten minutes of opening and digging into cabinets for him to remember Soojin was the one assigned with bringing the food.

He opens the fridge, hopeful that maybe the host left something before vacating the house, but he’s met with nothing but a half empty milk bottle (that looks a hell of a lot like yogurt when he shakes it, and even he knows that’s not a good sign) and an unopened beer can.

He rubs his chin, considering his options, but starving or walking on an empty stomach under negative temperatures feels like a whole new level of dumb and he sure doesn’t wanna die with dry ass lips. So, alternatively, after a quick second of quietly and tearlessly sobbing, Taehyung brings himself to knock on your bedroom door.

When you open it he— wait, were you going to sleep? The puffiness around your cheeks and the way you lazily look at him makes Taehyung think so. Also, there’s the fact you’re wearing a pajama set, cute little bears drawn all over your legs.

“Taehyung?” He snaps his eyes up.

“Uh, the nearest town is an hour away on foot.” He blurts, gulping at the way his name sounded laced in your raspy I’ve just woken up voice.

You frown.

“... right?”

He clears his throat; tries again.

“Soojin was supposed to bring the food, so there’s nothing for us to eat. I would grab something, but I think she booked a place near Earth’s butthole, ‘cus there’s nothing close.” You chuckle. Wait, you just… chuckled? Oh god, that must mean you think he's funny!, does that mean you think he's funny oh and your smile damn he feels like that's the first time he's seen your smile quick say something funnier oh wait, not— “But nothing like a good Christmas anal, right?”

Shit.

You open your mouth to say something, but he doesn’t wait for you to react before adding, “sorry. I don’t know why I said that, I mean,” he snickers nervously “only crazy people do anal.” You close your mouth immediately, and Taehyung fights the urge to cry — the fuck is he saying? “I mean, that’s not— I don’t, uhm— I do anal all the time!” He can't tell if he's laughing or crying at this point. “Oh my god, I—”

“Taehyung?” He promptly shuts up. “I think I got it.” Your tone is teasing, but he doesn’t dare meet your eyes as heat creeps up his neck.

“Sorry.”

“What were you saying before? About the food?”

“Right!” He lets out a relieved sigh, shaking his head to try and remember what he was saying before deeming it important for you to know he does anal. “We don’t have any food so… would you mind uhm, driving me to go grocery shopping?”

“It’s not like I have any choice, right?” You let out a little laugh and oh, my god, he hopes that was just a terrible attempt at a joke. “Let me just change real quick, then we can go.”

“Ok.”

He turns back to his room before you even have time to close your door.

It takes around two minutes of screaming into his pillow for the embarrassment to die down. When he starts to change into more presentable clothes, Taehyung tries to remember where the fuck he dropped his brains before this trip.

The shithole Soojin rented is around twenty minutes from town, and Taehyung spends each one of them in pure agony.

Despite the fact that you were very comfortable, idly checking out the landscapes as your fingers tapped against the steering wheel leather, Taehyung was sure that you were seconds away from jumping out of the car to free yourself from the torture of his company. He couldn't stop wondering if he was breathing too loud, but his attempts to hold his breath quickly backfired when you kept asking why he was turning purple beside you. 

Overall? Safe to say this weekend will be great!

Trying to get out of his head, he spots a convenience store a couple streets into town. 

When he sets foot out of the car, Taehyung is glad you parked right in front, because holy shit, is cold as fuck. He wraps the coat tighter around him, but his shivering only stops after he steps into the establishment’s heating.

The place has only three aisles, barely stocked. A few fluorescent lamps cast the room in faint, clinical lightning and Taehyung spots a little fake Christmas tree over the counter. If art is about eliciting a reaction, whoever was responsible for decorating the place is a hell of an artist, because Taehyung feels immediately depressed.

You, on the other hand, don't seem bothered. In fact, you quietly take in the environment, and Taehyung anxiety goes nuts, ‘cus if you are not talking, then he has no clue of what you’re thinking and what you’re thinking scares the shit outta him.

His eyes travel around the shelves in an attempt to find something he can comment on, quickly grabbing a mini reindeer ornament kit while you set your purse between your knees to remove your thicker clothing.

“Hey, check this. Don’t know why people buy shit like that, it's not like reindeers even exist.”

He turns to you after laughing in the most ridiculous, unnatural way, but his smile drops immediately when he catches you folding your coat in your hands as a large — and corny as fuck — reindeer head stares back at him from your sweater.

You know what? He’s gonna own his shit talking ability as a talent, because it takes effort to be this clueless.

You look at him, bottom lip jutting out slightly before your gaze drops to your sweater.

“Damn, I’m sorry. Actually, I think reindeers are really cute, and it’s not like Santa is real anyway either.”

You frown “Taehyung?”

“Huh?”

“Are you serious?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know reindeers are real, right?”

“No, they are not. What you saying?” His brows knit together in his forehead. Your lips curve up in a smile before you start chuckling. He lets out a relieved sigh. “I knew you were just messing with me. Almost got me there.”

You shake your head as you keep laughing, but… wait— holy shit, reindeers are fucking real?! But what about the whole flying thing?

…

Well, damn.

On second thought, Taehyung should definitely be more scared of opening his mouth than he is of silence.

Your laughter melts into a large smile, before you glance around. 

“Should we eat first?” You suggest, pointing to some tables near the large picture windows at front.

“Sure.” He agrees, still kinda thrown off.

You go to the cashier, asking for a menu. “What should we get?”

“Anything quick.”

“Ok. You good with ramen?” He nods and you order two bowls.

It takes no longer than five minutes for the server to bring the steaming instant food to your table.

Here’s another thing Taehyung’s just realized: keeping your mouth shut is a hell of a lot easier when your whole vision of life has just been challenged. What else is real?!

“God, this looks awful.” Your voice cuts through his existential crisis, eyes trained on the street outside the window.

“Huh?”

“There’s almost no one around and barely any decoration. Doesn’t even look like Christmas.”

“I mean, if I lived here I’d want to get the hell out for the holidays too, so.” Good! That was civilized. 

“Fair”, you grant.

You tilt the bowl back a bit to drink some of the broth, giggling to yourself when you set it on the table again. “Have you ever wondered what Whoville would look like if Grinch had actually stolen Christmas?” 

“What?”

“Like the Jim Carrey movie?” He nods, and you go on. “He wanted to ruin the town's Christmas spirit and shit. I think this town is what would happen if he succeeded.”

“I hate that movie.”

“Why?” You frown, but you still have a soft smile on your lips and Taehyung feels encouraged.

“A big green furry guy that uses onions as deodorant and commits arson? How the fuck is that a kid’s movie? I’m pretty sure anyone who likes Grinch is into furry or something” he snickers, “don’t know how that kinky shit can get people into their Christmas spirit.”

“You being hella judgy for someone who just found out reindeers are a thing.” You scoff.

Taehyung's smile drops.

“You… like Grinch?”

“It’s a classic, of course I like it!”

Taehyung groans, but the way your teeth nibble at your lip to hold back a smile makes him hesitate.

“Are you offended?”

“Fuck yeah, I am.” You’re so blatantly amused that even Taehyung could’t miss it — and he can’t help but open a large, boxy smile at your teasing.

“Damn, I’ve been saying all kinds of deranged shit the whole day, and Grinch is what gets to you?”

“It was all shits and giggles until you decided to come for my holiday movie.”

“Your holiday movie? Shit, all I’m hearing is you not denying your furry kink.”

You gape at him, “I do not have a furry kink! Grinch has a very important message and is a very nice, sweet Christmas story.”

“Except it’s terrifying and kinky as fuck,” your playfull pout earns a chuckle out of Taehyung “sorry to be the one to ruin your Christmas spirit, but it kinda feels like I did you a favour.” 

“You have no place to say it.”

“Oh?”

“Ain’t your Christmas about anal or some shit?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, what about it?”

“How’s that a better way to get into your Christmas spirit?”

“Well,” he smirks “maybe you should try and see for yourself.”

You dismiss him with a laugh, and Taehyung feels something melting inside. Jesus fuck, what an infatuating sound.

Shaking your head, you finish the rest of you ramen before breaking the now comfortable silence between you.

“No, but for real. How do you do it?”

Taehyung frowns — but who is he to deny such information?

“I mean… if you must know, most people think you should start with pegging, but I think—”

“No! Why would I ask you about anal?” Oh my god, Taehyung needs to keep saying weird shit so you keep laughing like that.

“Of course, sorry, you know your stuff.”

“Maybe we should stop talking about anal.”

“You brought it up, just outright shaming me.”

“Ok, fair. My bad.”

He smiles, “what you wanna know?”

“How do you get into your holiday spirit?”

Taehyung slurps on his ramen before replying “uhm. I dunno if there’s a ritual or anything.”

“Like, when do you start to feel like it’s Christmas?”

“Usually when I get home.” Taehyung shrugs, but when his eyes meet yours and find an expectant glimmer swimming in your gaze, he makes an effort to think about it. “But it fully hits when me and my sister decorate the tree or when my mum bakes cookies.”

“That seems nice.”

“My birthday is on the 30th though, so I guess it’s kinda natural to me in a way.”

“Huh. So you’re almost Jesus.”

“Now, that’s something I’ve never heard before.” He chuckles.

“Too sinful?” You taunt, and he bites.

“Something like that. Wouldn’t pass being nailed in a cross, though.”

“Holy shit.” Your laugh sends a smile to his face. “Don’t even know what to say to that.”

“Didn’t he die so we could sin? Just doing my part.”

“Pretty sure that wasn’t it.” You shake your head, groaning dramatically. “You gonna ruin Christmas for me if you keep this up.”

“Let’s be real here, Soojin’s to blame too for renting the serial killer shack. You can’t get into the holiday spirit when your place is full of very suspicious wine stains.”

“That's fair,” you allow. “When she told me she rented a secluded little place for us to spend the winter break, I fully expected some fancy cottage like the one from The Holiday.”

“The Kate Winslet’s one?” 

“Yes!”

“Yeah, we definitely don’t have that kinda budget. Jungkook spends too much on mattresses anyway,”

“What—”

“— besides, if this is a movie, it looks more like one of those big morality ones.”

“How so?”

“One of us is super greedy and presumptuous, so this is the universe’s attempt at humbling us.”

“Sending us to spend Christmas without our friends in a shitty place in a shitty town?”

“Clearly.” 

“I mean, I’m a Literature major, it's not like I'll make any money.”

“Yeah, I’m in History, so.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I went to a regency themed party once and everyone looked so fine.” 

“You chose your major for aesthetics?”

“What else is there to consider?”

You smile.

“And how's that going for you?”

“Three years in, not one costume party yet and my Duke attire is just gathering dust, so not great.”

“Maybe you should consider Fashion. I thought that was your major.”

“Yeah?” He pauses, considering it. “That's nice to know.” You smile and he taps his bottom lip. “But if it ain’t that kinda Christmas movie, what kind is it?”

You both ponder for a moment, before your attention returns to him, a mischievous edge to your eyes.

“Maybe it’s one of those we’re supposed to face our shit. Like the weird stuff we did in the past.”

Now, he knows you’re trying to imply something — but what? That he shouldn’t have run from you when he puked on you? ‘Cus that ain’t reasonable.

Ugh. Taehyung hates when people talk in riddles, he’s way too pretty for that.

“Maybe” he concedes, grabbing both of your bowls and getting up to throw them in the nearby trash.

He hears the small chuckle you let out, before you make your way to the door to grab a basket from a pile beside it.

Taehyung and you fall into peaceful conversation while roaming the few aisles in the store, and as the basket grows fuller, he wonders what he was shitting his pants for. Like what, he actually thought you’d just outright mention that day? You’re not cruel. 

“It’s been a while since I went grocery shopping. Soojin usually buys for the two of us.” You say, grabbing some cookies from a shelf.

“I do it every week because Jungkook hates sharing food. He lost his shit once because I used all of his mayo.”

“All of his mayo? The hell kinda recipe you were making?”

…

You actually got pretty familiar with it.

“The food poisoning type.” When you laugh, he pretends that he's joking. 

You finally reach the frozen section, eyes inspecting the different meat cuts available.

“What do you usually have for Christmas dinner?”

“My mom likes to make bulgogi and kimchi. Nothing special.” He shrugs. “What about you?”

You hesitate.

“Have you seen Home Alone?” 

Taehyung scoffs.

“What you take me for?” 

“Do you remember the mac n’ cheese scene?”

“Mhmm.”

“I’ve always wanted to have that for Christmas.” You purse your lips. “How do you fancy some bulgogi with mac n’ cheese?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

You smile. “Budget Christmas supper.”

“Just how Jesus would like it.”

“Stop saying shit like that, Taehyung. It's the man's birthday, have some respect.”

“It’s about humility.” He rolls his eyes playfully. “Having a dirty mind is also a sin, you know.”

“Yeah, you’d know that.”

“Just spreading the word. You’re the sinner here.”

You level his gaze, a challenging smile tracing your face.

“Does that mean I won’t get presents this year? Have I not been a good girl?”

Ha.

No, you didn't just say that — his last brain cell just imagined it. 

God, please don't say anything about being naughty. 

He exhales quietly, opting for an easy out. 

“If Soojin bought Jungkook a whole ass drum kit but got you nothing, then you should reconsider your friendship. Chicks before dicks or whatever.”

“I already accepted that Jungkook won. At this point I’m just the girl she shares rent with.”

“Well, I haven’t accepted shit. You please tell your rent sharer that Jungkook is mine.”

“You should tell him that, too. I’m afraid he might’ve forgotten.”

Taehyung whines. 

“You don't have to say it.”

“Sorry, I’ll let you live in denial.” Your attention returns to the refrigerator, choosing a package of beef and placing it in the basket. “What about you get us something for breakfast and I figure out our dinner today?”

Taehyung nods, walking down the next aisle. He picks up what he deems necessary not to starve the next few days and secures a mediocre wine bottle on the way before he follows you to pay for everything.

Once outside, Taehyung opens the backseat door and starts to place the groceries there, but you don’t make a move to enter the car when he’s done.

He calls you, and when you turn to him, he finds a large, beaming smile plastered on your face. You point down the street where a decaying sign announces a Christmas tree lot sale.

Taehyung shakes his head, shivering as he rubs his hands together.

“No, c’mon. They probably just have those really ugly scrawny ones.” The way your smile immediately falters makes Taehyung feel like complete shit, so he strides to your side and adds, as convincing as possible: “but! We might be lucky! It’s a small town, so they probably didn’t sell that much to begin with.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek.

“You think so?”

“We can at least try.”

When you reach the sale, however, Taehyung cringes. There aren’t many trees left, and most of them already look terrible. He’s already trying to come up with something to comfort you, but when he looks at you? Shit, he might have thought it was Christmas morning already.

And the sight melts something inside of him. The warmth of your gaze when looking at utterly fucked up Christmas trees, as if they're brand new, makes him wanna be on the receiving end of that look.

You start to roam through the rows, inspecting the trees around you.

Now that he's not actively walking anymore, Taehyung feels his body stiffening from the cold, and he starts to tremble beside you.

“I don’t know why you're wearing that thin ass coat in this weather.” You taunt.

“My goal was to look hot, not to be warm.”

“Haven’t you regretted it yet?”

“It depends.” He smiles. “Do I look hot?”

“You look cold. Actually you look kinda purple now.”

“Not even pretty?” He pouts.

“You are pretty. There’s no changing that.” You grin, narrowing your eyes at him. “But now you just look so cold that I almost wanna warm you up. Make you hot.”

What. The. Fuck.

Your tone immediately takes him back to that day at the party. To the way you flirted with him with your back pressed against his front before he took you upstairs.

The way you never once darted your eyes away from him and he felt delirious, hot, under your attention — and it’s that same intensity he finds flashing across your gaze now.

No fucking way.

Forgetting what came next, Taehyung’s mind traps him in the memory of your hand reaching between your bodies to palm him through his pants, the recollection not as sexy due to the weird rumbling of his stomach. 

Coming back to his senses, to your very present eyes staring at him, he curves his lips up.

“Sorry, but this Christmas I'm good girls exclusive.”

“You saying I’m a bad girl?” You pout.

Taehyung blinks a few times.

“Shit.” He huffs out a chuckle. “Don’t do that.” 

“Do what?” Fuck, you gotta stop pouting like that.

“You just messing with me.” He shakes his head, pointing at you. “I’mma go look on the other side of the lot now.”

You laugh as he turns, walking away from you.

He does not have the necessary control to deal with you flirting with him. Not when it makes no fucking sense. And the thing is that he isn’t often the smart one in his life (that’s Jungkook’s job when he isn’t struck dumb by his love for Soojin or his occasional hatred for Taehyung), so he isn't exactly the best at understanding people.

However — although he knows he’s unfairly hot — it makes no sense for you to want him. Not after what happened. And he’s not gonna risk another embarrassing situation after things are starting to resemble normalcy with you. As a matter of fact, Taehyung is too dumb to risk anything when there isn’t clear and explicit interest.

He shakes those thoughts off his head, focusing on finding a decent enough tree, but it takes around fifteen minutes of touching crumbling twigs for him to hear you calling his name from the other side of the lot.

You’re staring quizzically at a medium sized yellowish-green tree when he reaches you. To its credit, most of its branches — although looking like they could break just from being started at for too long — are still pretty full. Hopefully it can hold some ornaments to keep that smile on your face.

“What you think?”

“It does look better than the other ones.” He points. “You want this one?”

“Yep.”

“I’m so fucking happy” you declare, staring at the wack ass tree on your car’s roof.

Taehyung chuckles.

“I’m glad.”

You step to the driver’s side, moving to get in when you notice that Taehyung isn’t following.

“Ain’t you coming?”

“You bought a Christmas tree but won’t buy ornaments?” He teases, and a large grin spreads across your face. “C’mon, I saw some in the convenience store.”

You return to Taehyung’s side and you retrace your steps down the street.

“I feel like I must warn you that the last time I decorated a tree was when I was a kid.” You confess. “So it’ll probably look like shit.”

“That’s dumb. Every tree looks good if you decorate it with love.”

“Now you’re just being corny.” You nudge his side.

“I’m just trying to anticipate you to the fact that I also can’t decorate for shit.”

“So much for being experienced.”

“Experience means shit. For example, Jungkook is like, five years old and is so wiser than me already.”

“He did drive straight against a light pole in a parking lot. So maybe you’re setting the bar too low.”

“You know, you can insult me all you want, but I won’t let you come for my Kookie.”

“Your cookie?” You tease.

“What you smirking for? God, you have such a filthy mind.”

“Do not!”

“No way you watch Grinch with that dirty mind and do not have a furry kink.”

“Shut up.” You give his arm a light smack, but you’re giggling when you push open the store’s door for the second time that afternoon.

Taehyung guides you to a shelf with a bunch of Christmas themed products, and you both start to choose from little foam and plastic ornaments.

“Fuck, that’s so cute.” He says, holding a mini foam sock you picked in his large hands.

“I know, right? Loved those little stars you got, too.” You say, placing it all over the register.

“Nice to see you two again.” The cashier grins.

“We bought a tree, so we needed some ornaments.” Taehyung reasons.

“Sure.” He looks at the two of you for a second. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but you guys are such a cute couple.”

Taehyung’s face falls.

He kinda hates hearing stuff like this.

He’s heard people saying that about him and Soojin when they were fighting at a toy store trying to settle on something to buy Kook for Children’s day, and he’s heard it when he was having breakfast with a girl he had hooked up with — whose name he spent the whole meal trying to remember.

However, he never really heard it with Jungkook, even when the boy spent a whole dinner fucking sniffling his neck due to a new loation Taehyung had bought. Neither had he heard it when he was all smiles and giggles with a guy he saw for a while some months ago.

So he doesn’t really give those comments any credit. Especially because he knows he looks cute with anyone. 

You, on the other hand, seem to think it’s outright hilarious.

“Thank you!” You laugh. “We aren’t together, though.”

Ha.

No way you were seriously flirting with him.

“Oh. Sorry if I…”

“No, it’s okay.” You reassure. “We sure are cute.”

Your prideful smile has Taehyung smiling too, despite himself. He likes how confidence looks on you.

The cashier rings you up, and Taehyung grabs the bags, following you outside.

When he finally stops struggling to place the tree near the house’s fireplace, it’s already dark outside.

You tried to help him a couple times, but Taehyung was intransigent, especially because of the branches — he was full of little cuts and scratches when he was done. Which is fine, makes him look kinda edgy, but he didn’t want to see them on your soft skin. 

You drop the bags with the ornaments on the floor by his side, hands coming to rest on your hips. “You know, oddly enough I don’t know of any movie that has a Christmas tree decoration scene.”

“There’s that Friends scene where they decorate Monica’s tree.”

“Really? Never watched Friends.”

Taehyung gasps dramatically.

“And you like Grinch? Can’t believe I’m gonna spend Christmas with a psychopath.” He pauses. “Oh god, did Soojin rent this house for you to kill me?”

“Still with the Grinch judgment?”

“If anything I think I’m not judging enough.” You roll your eyes. “You seriously never seen Friends?”

“I don’t really like series. Too much commitment.”

“Ohhh, didn’t know you were a player.” He teases, and you laugh.

“What can I say. I'm as heartless as they come.”

“You do look very cold holding that little plush candy cane.”

“Isn't it part of the fuckboy agenda to pretend to be sweet and caring?”

“So you're manipulative kind too? Damn, you should come with a warning.”

“Who cares about affective responsibility anyway?”

He sighs, “I have so much to learn.”

You giggle, shaking your head, and Taehyung grabs another ornament bag.

“Wait, let me set the mood.” You turn around, grabbing your phone from the couche’s armrest and putting on a Christmas playlist.

As Justin Bieber’s fetus voice starts filling up the room, Taehyung lets out a loud chuckle.

“Mistletoe?”

“You seriously coming for every Christmas thing I like?” You groan at his mocking tone. “Let me live, Taehyung.”

“I’d let you, but you not doing it right.” He says, approaching you to grab the phone from your hands, but you quickly step away.

“Hell, no. This song is hella cute, you’re not changing it. Just enjoy.”

“Uh, fine. Can I choose the next one?”

“... ok. But it needs to be Christmas related.”

“I have my own Christmas playlist, you know.”

“If it doesn’t have Mistletoe on it, then I already know it’s shit.”

He gapes, feigning offense.

“Damn, the disrespect. May George Michael never hear you.”

And then you two start to assemble the little ornaments around your shitty tree, mocking each other’s music taste but enjoying and absentmindedly swinging to every song. 

It’s only when Mariah Carrey’s voice sounds through your phone that you stop for a second. Your eyes find Taehyung’s with ease, when he too halts his actions after carefully hanging a little star in one of the branches. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Need more Christmas wisdom?”

“Kinda.”

“Shoot.”

“Can you tell me more about holidays with your family?”

“Sure. What do you wanna know?”

“Anything.”

“Please, be more vague.” 

You think, before grabbing a little Santa hat from the bag.

“How is decorating the tree with your sister like?”

“Uhm, she’s always very organized. She likes to plan it and she used to come up with different themes every year.” He smiles to himself. “One year she convinced us to buy a fake white tree because she thought it was fancy or something. It looked like shit when we finished decorating it, so my mum took us to a last minute tree hunt and we all started a whole different decoration before the rest of the family arrived for dinner.”

“Cute.”

“Yeah, now she loves little elf ornaments. My dad bought some once and she lost her shit because of how cute they are, so she plans her decoration around them every year.”

“Oh. We should’ve bought little elfs, then.”

“Nah, I’m tired of them. This way is nice.” Taehyung opens a bag with little plastic sleigh decorations and you two start to distribute them.

“So she’s a planner. How do you decorate?”

“I usually just do as she says. You know. Shoving the little things and hoping they don’t fall.” You chuckle and Taehyung looks at you. “What about you? How’s tree decorating with your family?”

You pause, letting out a long breath before you answer, “Don’t have that many memories to choose from, honestly.”

Taehyung frowns, before a little confused laugh leaves his lips.

“What, are you traumatized or something?”

Your eyes widen when you meet his gaze, smile completely wiped from your face as your hands halt mid-air.

Taehyung immediately panics, synapses synapsing before—

Well. Shit.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t ha—”

His apologies are interrupted by the loud sound of your laughter. He almost thinks he’s imagining it before he turns to you, the little sleigh ornament falling from your hands as you lean on your knees.

“Are you… uh, okay?”

“Can’t believe you just asked that.” You try to catch your breath, laughter breaking into little giggles.

“I’m really sorry, though, I don’t kno—”

“Taehyung,” you interrupt again, biting your lip in an attempt to contain your amusement, “it’s fine, honestly. I’m okay with it, just didn’t expect you to straight up say it.” You giggle a bit more as he processes your words.

“Oh… so you’re okay?”

“Yeah. I don’t have a good relationship with my parents, and this is my first Christmas without them. Don’t wanna talk about it… sorry if it’s weird or it makes you uncomfortable.”

“No, you didn’t.” Taehyung fights the urge to apologize again, but he can help repeating himself. “You really ok, though?”

“Yeah. Really. Don’t worry about it.” 

He nods, thinking before clearing his throat, “so. Want me to tell you more holiday with the Kims stories?”

Taehyung makes an effort not to let things become awkward, but it hits him then that this must be a pretty important Christmas for you — if the eager way you nod is anything to go by — and he kinda feels bad that you have to spend it with him. 

Despite his concern, you fall into your now familiar laughing and teasing as he goes on to tell a bunch of family memories while you two finish up the tree.

Taehyung never had problems falling asleep. Actually, if anything, he had problems staying awake — being so hot can be exhausting sometimes. Ugh, who is he kidding? If anyone knows this, it is you. You, with your pretty smile and your pretty eyes and your pretty hands and your pretty face and your pretty voice and your fucking gorgeous body and your sense of—

Uhm. You got the point.

Anyway.

Ahem.

Where was he?

Oh, yeah.

Taehyung never really had problems sleeping, but that night, after bidding you goodnight and returning to the warmth of his covers after a good steamy shower, he felt restless.

A weird sense of responsibility weighted on him, and he promised himself that he’d try to make this holiday remarkable for you — and that he’d keep that fucking smile on your face. But even after his resolution, his body felt foreign. Taehyung kept shifting inside the covers, gut turning and twisting almost as if he had eaten something he shouldn’t and the thought kept him awake for hours on end until he realized that it resembled butterflies.

He pretended like he didn’t know why he was feeling that, but, after he finally drifted off, your face starred his every dream.

“Merry Christmas Eve!”

“So you finally remembered I exist, hum?” Taehyung secures his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he places the dishes in the sink.

You were twenty minutes deep into a Love Actually rant when his ringtone pierced through your argument. You shut up immediately, only then realizing how caught up you’ve gotten, but Taehyung was almost disappointed when you put away your lunch plate and left the kitchen to provide some privacy.

“What? I don’t remember you calling me when I was in the hospital yesterday.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, grabbing his phone properly as he makes his way to his bedroom.

“People grieve in different ways, Jungkook. You must learn to respect that.”

“What are you grieving, asshole, I didn’t die.”

“Your dignity did. Driving straight against a light pole then whining over a twisted ankle.”

“The light pole was in my blind spot.”

“So you did whine?”

“Like a proper man.” Taehyung chuckles.

“I know you’re fine, Soojin kept me updated. I figured you were tired, so I didn’t call or anything.”

“Pretty sure you sent a text blaming me for getting into an accident.”

“It kinda was your fault, though, wasn’t it, Kook?”

Jungkook gets silent on the line for a second, before letting out a loud exhale. 

“Are you mad with me?”

Taehyung frowns. 

“What you talking about?”

“Fuck, you are, aren’t you? I just… I’m sorry, man. I know you didn’t wanna go in the first place but I kept asking you to go, and now you’re there alone.”

“Hum. I don’t accept your apology, tho—”

“Wow. Okay, then. I mean, it wasn’t my fault you puked on her and went all incognito, so it seems a bit harsh, but go off, I guess.”

“The hell? I was gonna say I don’t accept it ‘cus there’s nothing to apologize for, jackass.”

“Oh.” He lets out a nervous laugh. “Right. Appreciate it, man. But for real, I’m sorry. Hope things aren’t too awkward there.”

Taehyung chews the inside of his cheek.

“Actually? Things are ok. Went to town to buy some stuff with her yesterday and she’s so cool, man. We’re cool.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I was a bit in my head at first, but it’s fine now.”

“Sweet! In that case, you’re welcome.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but huffs out a chuckle.

“Yeah, thank you for crashing your car, it made me happy.”

“Everything for you, Tae.”

“Shit. I kinda miss you, tough.”

“Yeah, same. But we’ll be there soon enough.”

“Great. Now, have you ever realized how amazing Emma Thompson is on Love Actually? I feel like we don’t give her enough love, and I was just reflecting on some shit.”

“Oh my god, I kinda thought the same thing the last time we watched it. I mean, let's think about it for a sec here.”

Taehyung could distinctly hear the corny Christmas soundtrack when he set foot outside his room after hours trying to soothe his Jungkook deficiency. He smiled to himself, approaching the living room.

He finds you clutching the blanket to your chest, eyes focused on the action on the TV screen.

“You ok?” His question makes you jump on the couch, hand immediately flying to your chest.

“Jesus, Taehyung! Announce yourself, goddammit!” You try to catch your erratic breath as he chuckles.

“My bad.” You grab the remote to jump back a few scenes. “What are you watching?”

“Nightmare before Christmas.”

“Nice choice.”

“Wanna join?”

“Nah. Think it's time to start making dinner.”

“Oh! Yeah, sure, let's go.”

You start to peel the covers off you, but Taehyung shakes his hand quickly. 

“Let me take care of it! You can chill.”

You frown, “you don't need help?”

“No, I can figure it out by myself, enjoy your marathon.”

Okay, he knows what you're thinking, and it does seem like a pretty terrible idea given… well, the way you two met. But! Taehyung is nothing but a dedicated man, and that night with you he was humbled. So, he spent the months following the incident learning and researching and — after getting fairly acquainted with food poisoning and stressing the fuck outta Jungkook — he finally mastered the art of cooking.

…

That was misleading, sorry.

He can confidently make popcorn, and hesitantly make ramen and mac and cheese — everything an adult needs to survive, honestly —, and tonight's menu just so happens to contain one of his specialties. He just has to figure out the bulgogi part, and then he's gonna blow your fucking mind.

“Oh, by the way,” you call from the couch as he makes his way to the kitchen area “I didn't find any good brands of mac and cheese yesterday, so I bought the ingredients to make it from scratch. Hope it's okay?”

Well, shit.

Taehyung reassures you weakly, not wanting to take that smile off your face, and takes a deep breath before starting to gather the ingredients. 

How hard can it be, really?

Surprising absolutely no one, Taehyung didn't figure shit out.

What he did, though, in the twenty minutes it took for him to come to his senses, was learn a few big words. Like marinated. What does it even mean? And why does every recipe site assume he knows it? He knows shit.

Also, why is mac and cheese sauce not just melted cheese? Makes absolutely no fucking sense. Honestly? Straight up cynical.

But you see kids, Taehyung didn’t just learn to make popcorn and instant food during the previous months. In fact, he also did a little of what you could call a character development (who would’ve thought that throwing up over the hottest girl he’s even met could teach you so much about life? Amazing, honestly), and that’s why now, instead of getting creative, he decides to just call for you.

“Yeah?” You answer dismissively, attention still in the skeleton singing on the screen.

“I, uh… need your help.”

You pause the movie, turning your body to face him over the couch.

“Sure, what is it?”

“Honestly?” His smile is shy as he looks away from you. “I can't cook for shit. Hate to ask after telling you I would do it, but I also feel like food poisoning isn't on your Christmas bucket list, so… can you help me with dinner?”

Your smile, on the other hand, is blissful.

“How do you survive?”

“Barely. But Jungkook is a good cook.”

“Oh, yeah.” You consider. “Soojin has started to eat more at home after he started cooking for us too.”

“So… will you help me?”

“Of course.” You're already on your feet by the time the words leave your mouth, and Taehyung can see you're wearing that cute ass bear pajamas from yesterday. You look so fucking soft and comfortable.

When you join him in the kitchen he can’t help but smile at the way your outfit matches his own — although his pattern is of little tigers. You search briefly around the cabinets and reach for the wine he got the day before, and you two let the sweet alcohol tint your lips as you look through all the ingredients he displayed on the counter.

“Soojin made mac and cheese the other day, so I’ll do her way. Also, bulgogi ain’t really that hard, anyway. Just… do as I say.”

“Sure.” 

Taehyung pays close attention to your instructions, and you task him with a basic chopping job that — although really fucking dangerous considering the size of the knife — seems easy enough that he won’t fuck it up. You charge yourself with the pasta, filling a pan with water and turning up the heat.

“What does one usually do after supper?”

“Well, it varies. My brother likes to watch Christmas movies. My parents would just sleep. Jungkook likes to get shitfaced and dance.”

“And you?”

“I’m the one he dances with.” You smile.

“Cute.”

“What you wanna do?”

“Uhm… watch movies? There’s a few remaining on my list.”

“We could do that.”

“Oh, sorry. Did I give you the impression that I wanted to do it with you?” 

“As if. I’m your Christmas mentor, you need me.”

“Need no such thing anymore. Besides, I feel like I mentored you a bit too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Care to tell me how?”

“For one, if it wasn’t for me, you’d still think reindeers aren’t real.”

“Hey, that’s not—”

“And you’d be left to eat basic ass ramen for Christmas dinner.”

“What I’m hearing is that you took the fun outta my holidays.”

“Oh, yeah? I bought some ramen yesterday, suit yourself.”

“God, you’re so mean, so cold. But that's okay. I happen to have a very big heart, so I forgive your lack of gratitude. We can still watch something together.”

“But I’m not apologizing.”

“You’ll watch your movies alone then?”

“Don’t exactly feel like holding your hand when you get scared.”

“What kinda Christmas movies are you watching?”

“Old scary Grinch.” Your smile only widens when Taehyung groans.

“Stop it.” He nudges you. “Your water is boiling already.”

“C’mon, Tae, let’s face some childhood fears, maybe that’s what our movie is about.”

He rolls his eyes, but your laugh pulls a smile outta him.

At some point, after around two hours of teasing and working through the wine bottle — now long forgotten and replaced by the cheap beer you got at the store —, you two manage to finish dinner. Now, Taehyung ain't no chef. But if the smell is anything to go by, this might just be his best meal, and he's happy he was able to contribute.

He sets the table while you give the food the final touches, and in no time you two are sitting across from each other, bulgogi mac and cheese bowls waiting in front of you, while Michael Bublé's voice envelops the house.

Taehyung fills his spoon and takes the first bite.

Holy shit.

For a second, he just lets the food sit on his tongue. The flavor coating his every sense as you stare expectantly at him. Closing his eyes, he lets out a low sigh; he could never have enough creativity to describe such a taste.

What he knows of, though, is that it tastes like shit.

Thoroughly and unmistakably garbage and he's left surprised at how you two were able to mess up this bad… Okay, maybe not that surprised: he was there after all — but oh my god, you can't cook for your life!

But, when he opens his eyes, meeting your glimmering ones, he doesn't have it in his heart to tell you. Maybe you just have a different taste or something, maybe your food is too refined for his traumatized palate.

So, he gathers his strength and chews the fucking pasta.

“So?” You ask, after he swallows. 

“Mhmmm” he hums “it's definitely something.”

Your face drops on cue, and Taehyung offers a weak smile when you reach for your own spoon, shoving pasta in your mouth and groaning when it touches your tongue.

“Oh my god”, you quickly get a napkin to spit the food. “But… it smells so good. How did I fucked this up?” You drop your head on your palms over the table.

“It does smell delicious.” He inhales deeply, letting the deceiving dish smell soothe his senses after the atrocious taste.

“I’m so sorry.” You groan.

“For what?”

“Ruining our Christmas dinner.”

“What you talking about? Pretty sure I can get full just by sniffling the shit out of this.” You lift your face from your hands, meeting his attempt to lighten the mood. 

“I’m serious.”

“So what? You think I could’ve done better?” He chuckles. “Honestly, you’re miles ahead of my cooking skills just for making it smell like food.” He continues when a small smile tugs at your lips. “Definitely understand why Soojin wasn’t eating at home before Jungkook, but it looks great nonetheless.”

You giggle faintly.

“But for real… what are we gonna do?”

He looks around the kitchen, before smiling at you.

“Think I'm gonna suit myself with some basic ass ramen for Christmas dinner.”

After cleaning the table and making sure to strictly follow the basic three step ramen instructions, you two move your Christmas supper to the couch — or rather, you return to your cozy place under the blankets and he gets acquainted with the nearby armchair.

It feels ridiculously comfortable. And as you two keep making your way through Bridget Jones' Diary, Taehyung realizes a few weird things.

The first, is that he doesn’t know how you ever manage to finish movies, because you constantly feel the need to pause and over analyze a scene for at least five minutes before you deem him informed enough to move onto the next one. He doesn’t mind. In fact, he finds it adorable, especially when you rolled up your sleeves, tossed the empty ramen bowl on the coffee table and explained to him almost angrily why Bridget’s resignation scene is real cinema or something.

The second, and perhaps most alarming one, is that he hasn’t paid attention to a single scene after the first time you paused. His eyes apparently forget how to strain away from you. From your arms, from your hair, from your smiles and chuckles. You seem to be aware that he’s staring, but pretend that it's just the spiciness of the ramen that got you fanning yourself, while making no effort whatsoever to push the blankets away from you.

You’re just… entracing. So beautiful, so excited, so worked up, so cute and just such a fucking menace that he feels like he’s spinning — cheap bear aside, he doesn’t think it’s on alcohol he’s drunk on.

Although, from the amount of cans accumulated by his and yours feet, you two aren’t exactly sober either.

…

Yeah, sure, it’s the beer. The alcohol. He’s drunk. That’s it.

“Taehyung, can I ask you something?” Your voice breaks through his mind, snapping him out of his inner ramblings.

“Sure.”

“I know you hate it. But can you maybe watch Grinch with me too?” And you quickly add, before he can even open his mouth to contest: “I really like it, and it’s the last one on my list, and” you hiccup “maybe you can grow to like it now as an adult!”

He groans. 

“Why do you like that shit?”

“Please! I don’t wanna watch it alone.”

“I don’t know…”

You look around the room, as if trying to find something that will convince him, but it’s when Taehyung sips on his beer that your eyes lit up with an idea.

“Didn’t you say you liked to get shitfaced and then dance with Jungkook during Christmas?”

“... yeah?”

“Then let’s do that! Let’s get really drunk,” you hiccup again, letting out a little giggle. “Ok, maybe that part is covered. So, let's dance, then watch Grinch!”

“You wanna dance?”

“Then watch Grinch!” You repeat, words slurred in the cutest little way. “I’ll do it for you, you do it for me.”

You don’t wait for him to agree before you’re on your feet, crossing the space between you and grabbing his hands to help him rise from the couch — but Taehyung doesn’t fight any of it. Because the pout on your lips and the way your eyes are glimmering with fondness (and intoxication too, he’s sure), makes him wanna do just everything you tell him too.

You set your phone on the coffee table and face him again.

“Oh” you giggle, clumsily stepping back when you realize just how close you two are. You clear your throat. “So how do you two do it?”

“We just dance. There’s no plan or a right way to do it, just… dance.” He blinks.

Fuck, he’s really drunk.

“Okay.”

He giggles at your uneasiness, reaching for your phone and starting one of his Christmas playlists. He doesn’t need much to start swaying when a sweet jazz rhythm sounds through your speakers. He shakes his shoulders playfully, earning a laugh from you.

“Damn, you’re so old.”

He chuckles.

“What you waiting for? Just dance with me.”

He grabs your wrists and guides you to swing with him, lifting your arms and twisting you before letting you to set your own pace with a large smile on your face.

Taehyung feels so at peace. The alcohol easing his thoughts, the jazz moving his body, your cute giggles gracing his ears.

“I'll give it to you, your music taste isn't bad.”

He clicks his tongue.

“You wouldn't be swaying like that to Mistletoe, I guarantee you.”

“Wanna bet?” You challenge, already grabbing your phone to change the song.

Taehyung laughs when you switch up your dancing style to something far more agitated than the song demands, clumsily circling the coffee table. He's clearly more skilled than you, so he tries to exaggerate and act up his movements to match yours.

“Okay, now sing with me” you clap your hands “— but Imma be under the mistletoe. With youuu” you point at him “shawty with you.”

You can't finish the chorus as you burst into little giggles, and Taehyung follows suit.

“Shut up.”

“That's the only tradition left, I think.”

“Huh?”

“The mistletoe.”

He stumbles on the couch.

“What?”

You look at him for a second, and your grin falters just a little before you shake your head.

“Why so violent with the couch? No need to be scared.” You laugh. “Damn, you're such a bad dancer.”

Taehyung can't understand mixed signals when he's sober — so it's not like he's gonna try when he’s this drunk.

“How dare you! If the music was better it'd definitely be easier. Put on some nice Stray Kids if you really wanna know what I'm made of.”

It’s a ridiculous scene, really. One that he wouldn’t believe could’ve happened a day before, but here you are, dancing around the living room, bumping into the furniture and laughing like two children as a way to force him to watch a stupid Christmas movie with you.

And fuck, he likes it.

He likes the way your shirt lifts whenever you raise your arms, exposing a line of your lower stomach. He likes the way your ass shakes when you try to make a funny move. He likes the way a thin layer of sweat coats your exposed skin, and how desperate he is to lick it clean. He likes the way you look at him, like he is the one making you this fucking happy.

And then you finally pause the music.

“I'll admit. If History doesn’t work, you can definitely make a career out of dancing.”

“Thanks.” He smiles. “You should stick to Literature, though.”

“Hey!”

You laugh, shoving him playfully as you let your body fall on the couch, pushing the blanket to the armrest and away from you. He doesn’t bat an eye when he sits beside you this time.

“Can we watch it now?”

He sighs. “Yeah, whatever.”

You reach for the remote and before Taehyung can ever prepare himself, the stupid narrator is already introducing you two to Whoville.

It doesn’t take long for him to realize he’s not ready to face any childhood fears today, because as Jim Carey’s furry face is slowly but surely shown, he’s already shivering and looking away.

This time, though, you don’t ignore his lack of attention to the movie. 

“Oh my god” you laugh, pausing the movie six minutes in, Grinch’s ugly ass face occupying the whole screen. “You’re scared scared of it. Actually scared.”

He scoffs. 

“No, I’m not?”

���Why are you looking away, then?”

“Nothing, you can keep going.”

You smirk, “okay.”

Taehyung is able to stomach the next few scenes, complaining at the stupid hairstyles and outfits the characters use while you just eye him amused. When Grinch’s face shows up again, Taehyung starts to restlessly shift on the couch to have an excuse to look away, and the constant cracking of the backrest is what prompts you to pause the movie again.

“Stop moving so much. You gonna break the couch.”

“It’s just uncomfortable. Can’t find a good position.”

“Taehyung, we can choose a different movie if you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared though, this movie is fine.”

“The movie is, you aren’t.”

He crosses his arms, but doesn’t say anything.

“You know, you don’t look like someone who scares easily.”

“Because I’m not.”

“You've been cringing since the movie began.”

“Because it's bad.” Damn, he sounds like a five year old.

You shift on the couch to face him, before tugging on his elbow lightly, compelling him to meet your eyes.

“If you admit you’re scared, I’ll change it.”

Your stare is intense as you wait for him to give in and he suddenly feels warm. Your hand is still resting on his arm, and a weird stir on his stomach makes Taehyung feel like that isn’t contact enough — but he blames it on the beer for the time it takes for him to remember how to form syllables.

Shaking his head, he scoffs.

“No wonder you like Grinch so much, you’re just like him.”

“Damn, just like him? Now who’s the mean one?”

“Still you.”

“Well, you just compared me to Jim Carrey in a hairy green costume, so.”

“I mean, you’re not as bad on the eyes.”

“Wow, thanks. That’s some competition.”

He doesn’t think. He says.

“You don’t have competition. You're like, in a league of your own.”

The chalet Soojin found was the only one with three bedrooms y’all could afford, but as you two have quickly learned these last days, that doesn’t mean that it was a good place. Actually, Taehyung only stopped calling it a shack because Jungkook told him it made Soojin sad — but even with every door and window closed, he’s still able to catch you shivering under the cold breeze breaching through the shit heating system. Fuck this place and how it makes you cold.

“Oh.” It's all you manage to reply.

“And that’s even worse.”

“How?” You offer him a little, unconvincing laugh.

“You deceive. Grinch would’ve succeeded on his stupid plan if he seduced people.”

“So what, am I seducing you or something?”

He doesn’t answer.

No, he can't answer that. Not with words, at least. Not with the way the alcohol is steadily dissolving his filters, and not with the way you're looking at him. So he just stares at you.

He just stares at you as if your eyes hold the answers to all of his questions — and that’s saying something because he has a lot of them — and then you wet your lips, dragging his eyes down your face. The sensitive flesh is tinted red, a memory of the spicy sauce and wine you just had, now glistening with your saliva too. And Taehyungs feels the urge to taste it.

It’s you, however, that finally leans in, erasing the space between you to smash your lips against his in a kiss that Taehyung feels like he waited his whole life for.

And the desperation is evident, the need to make up for a missed time neither of you were aware of, so his hand reaches for the nape of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue against yours. It's messy and mostly sloppy, but it lights a fire inside both of you.

You further press your mouths together, Taehyung’s breath tangling with yours in what looks like an attempt to eat each other’s faces off — and fuck, he wants nothing less.

It takes only a light touch on your thigh for you to promptly sway your leg over his hips, straddling his thighs without breaking contact for a second.

The new angle allows for him to feel all of you. The weight of your body and the taste of your tongue makes his mind spin, and shit he can’t focus on technique for his life, he just wants to keep his mouth on yours forever.

Taehyung’s large palms skim up your thighs, and he grabs a handful of your ass, pushing a low breathy moan out of your throat. Shit. If he was eager before, Taehyung’s actions now turn straight up feral, hungrily seeking your lips while pressing you down on his body, feeling a shiver run down his spine at the way you seem to effortlessly fit above him.

The new found intensity makes your knee jolt on the remote beside your leg. You pause the kiss for a moment to giggle drunkenly when Grinch’s voice sounds through the room, and that’s when Taehyung’s inebriated thoughts finally seem to catch up to him. 

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

You’re drunk. Shit, you’re drunk as fuck. He can taste it. He can feel it in the way your hands clumsily tug on his hair, and in the way your hips uncoordinatedly roll over his.

Shit.

He squeezes his eyes further shut, trying to get some sense into his head, and finally gathers enough control to pull away.

You immediately frown, chasing after his lips, but he turns his face. 

“Tae?”

He swallows at the breathless way your voice comes out, the nickname rolling off your tongue just makes him wanna grab your face again and resume the messy make out session. So, with his mind still spinning, he struggles to find the right words when he opens his mouth.

“I think we shouldn’t do this.” His voice is slurred.

You freeze, backing away just a bit to inspect his elusive face, and whatever you find there makes your whole expression drop. You clear your throat awkwardly and lift your leg to move away from his thighs. Taehyung’s hands feel hella empty without your hips to hold on to, but he pushes through the feeling, rising from the couch as soon as you’re securely away, and bolts away to his room down the corridor, pants awfully tight.

Taehyung feels like shit the next morning, in more ways than one.

He’s not sure how he was even able to fall asleep — although the excessive amount of alcohol in his blood might have helped.

He knows he did the right thing stopping it: you were both way past clarity for clear consent, but in all his years as a certified fuckboy he never communicated that so poorly, and never ever made someone feel undesirable — and he fears that's exactly what he did last night. Which couldn’t be farther from the truth, because holy fuck he doesn’t think he’s ever desired someone so desperately.

However, as much as he would love to do it all again, much much more sober, he can’t assume the same for you. Especially not after the ridiculous way he handled the situation. But he shouldn’t leave it like that. No, he has to talk to you, to explain and then apologize. It’s still Christmas after all, and the last thing he wants is to give you another bad holiday memory.

That thought is enough to prompt him out of bed, and Taehyung crosses the corridor with surprising confidence before stopping at your door.

Taking a deep breath, he lightly knocks before closing his hand around the handle, turning it and pushing it open.

He expects to find you sleeping. He kinda expected you to be awake too, deep in thought just as he was — but fuck, he definitely wasn't expecting that.

You coat your fingers in your arousal before pushing them up to circle your clit. The relief is immediate, and you have to cover your mouth with your free hand to prevent your pleasure from spilling from your lips.

Your eyes flutter shut when you imagine what Taehyung's long fingers would feel like replacing yours. How he would drag them up and down your folds, spreading your juices and making your pussy all nice and slick for him, before plunging them inside, scissoring you open and curving just the right way.

Fuck, you’re so fucking horny.

You should've found a way to blow some steam, to relieve that pressure before you came on this trip. Granted, you didn’t really know you and Taehyung would be by yourselves, so the only thing you expected from him were avoidant eyes and quick, uncomfortable escapes — which you got last night, after your stupid drunk ass thought it was a good idea to kiss him. Shit, what did you have in mind?

Oh, right. Kim Taehyung.

The first time you ever saw him, in that cursed party, you were immediately sure of one thing: Kim Taehyung is tailor-made by hell. There’s no other way to explain his alluring eyes, that burn with such intensity that the mere glance your way makes you feel like the hottest fucking person alive; or his lips, soft and plumpy lips, that spread in the utmost tempting smirk you’ve ever seen. And his body? Fuck, he’s so hot that you honestly wanna eat your fist whenever you look at him.

So, it’s fair to say, you were pretty fucking happy that he made a move on you on that party. To this day, remembering the way his back was pressed against yours and the words he whispered in your ear? The promises he made? You just knew you would do everything to see them through.

But you feel like you’ve been trapped in your own fucked up version of groundhog day. One in which every time a hot person sees something in you that deems you fuckable, you’re always fucking interrupted. You feel like you’ve been edged for months now, starting with Taehyung puking on you, followed by you and Jimin being interrupted when you were searching for something to use as bondage and last month, when you had your fingers deep inside one of your classmates pussy and her sister decided to visit her the very same moment.

You’re a simple girl, with simple needs. You just want to cum.

And despite all the months without basic, mature communication, you still fucking wanted Taehyung to blow your back. God, the things you heard of him, the rumors, the giggling feedback… all ruined because as soon as he made sure you were clean and held no evidence of his lunch, he disappeared as if you had imagined him. But how could you ever blame him for getting sick? You’ve worked six months in a nursery last year, you’re pretty much immune to vomit at this point.

Nonetheless, his lack of opening after it all made you shut down that window, and you didn’t really gave it much thought until Jungkook decided to fucking destroy his car (honestly, how could he drive straight against a fucking pole, so damn inconvenient!) and you and Taehyung were left to your own devices in a shitshow of a town. And then, you got everything but what you expected.

You found out that his sweet smile can be just as alluring as his smirk. And that his eyes can hold a kindness and an innocence so genuine that’s almost infuriating. That he’s the silliest fucking man alive and you couldn’t have asked for a better person to make you company during Christmas — he is basically Jesus after all. The GOAT of Christmas and shit.

But after last night? After remembering what his lips taste like? After remembering the weight of his hands as they trace your legs and set every inch of your skin on fire? Shit, you’re not sure how you went a single day without it.

Consequently, after an hour tossing and turning on bed, you came up with a clear plan of action: you would apologize. Would face him, and apologize for kissing his last night and for making him uncomfortable. But fuck, you have to deal with that knot in the pit of your stomach before setting foot out of bed.

With that in mind, you push your fingers deep inside your pussy, stroking your walls the way you can just imagine that he would, reaching spots that yours never could. You bite the palm over your mouth, trying to keep a loud moan from slipping out when you start to pump your fingers with purpose, seeking release as if your life depended on it.

You’re so pent up that it doesn’t take long before you start to feel your pussy constricting around your digits, and you can sense your sanity drifting away the closer you get — making you thoughtlessly drop your hand from your mouth.

“Fuck” you moan, curving your digits to seek your g-spot “Taehyung!”

“I’m here!” 

It takes longer than it probably should for you to understand that no, you didn’t just imagine his voice replying to you — but realization does hit you eventually, and you snap your eyes wide open.

You take your soaked fingers away from your center, opening your legs as your head lifts from the pillow to find Taehyung, not imagined — although dreamy — with his back turned to you on the threshold.

“Oh my god” you whisper, desperation lacing your tone as you rush to cover yourself, even if he can’t see you “oh my god, shit, I’m…”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts, voice strained. “I just… I came to— I’ll go now.” He stutters, and the next second he is out of your room, closing the door behind him.

Your body doesn’t move for the next ten minutes at least, and you have to gather all of your self respect to cast away the tears threatening to spill from the overwhelming shame consuming you. 

Taehyung just saw you knuckles deep inside your pussy.

Taehyung just saw you knuckles deep inside your pussy, moaning his fucking name.

And you didn’t even get to cum.

Is it too dramatic to pack your things and drive back?

People change universities all the time, right? Maybe you can find a nice Literature program in another city, move the fuck away from Taehyung to never have to see his face again.

Deep breaths.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Get your shit together, you’re not a spoiled white young man. You have to face your shit. You have to apologize.

In.

Out.

You slip out of bed, putting on sweatpants and a shirt over your sweaty skin, feeling warm all over. You walk to the door, testing different sentences as you let your head thump against the thick wood. How could you forget to lock this shit? You’re never ever getting drunk again.

Your steps are hesitant as you make your way across the hall, rehearsing a weird apology in your head as you try to build momentum — all in vain, because as soon as you see him, sitting on the floor and looking at the gift in his hands as if it has just spoken to him, your body tenses up and every possibility of courage evades you.

The experience is almost humbling, because you finally understand why he ran away all those months ago instead of facing you. Fuck being the bigger man, you’re gonna pretend as if nothing happened.

Taehyung acknowledges you when you step closer, coming to a stop near him with your hands shaking behind your back. You regret not washing your face before leaving your room, because you can only imagine how disheveled you look right now: embarrassed and sexually frustrated. You’re feeling so hot that for a second you wonder if you can actually melt.

His face doesn’t betray any emotion. If you squint, you can find what looks like confusion in his gaze, but you don’t level his eyes for enough time to assess it.

“I figured we could open up the presents we got.” He states, simply, as if he didn’t just catch you masturbating. You blink, setting your lips in a thin line. You know what? Fuck it. You drop to his side, crossing your legs and keeping your eyes on the gift Soojin bought you and feeling your face burning with his attention. “Let’s open them together. That’s… uhm, that’s how me and my siblings do it.” He instructs, and you nod, but as you both busy yourselves with the wrappings it’s clear from the clumsiness of your actions that your minds are clearly somewhere else.

You peel off the covers of a black paper box, and absentmindedly open the lid, baring its content to both of you.

“Fuck” you hear Taehyung choke under his breath when his gaze falls on your gift, completely forgetting the Céline pants Jungkook got him.

You see, Soojin is a strong advocate for self love and all of her presents always involve some kind of weird liberal feminist agenda to help you girlboss your way through life. So, when she started to randomly ask for your clothing size, you were sure she was gonna buy you some of those weird shirts with a corny quote like Happy, Unbothered, Disciplined and Growing (all things you couldn’t relate too, but would undoubtedly sport in the name of friendship).

You should have suspected, though, when she went through your underwear drawer, but she did seem genuine when she said she just wanted to do your laundry for you.

Well, people surprise you, apparently.

And it’s fair to say you are pretty fucking surprise as you look at the black lace lingerie set in front of you, with a little hope this helps you break your dryspell 😘 note on top of it — the icing on the fucking cake.

You almost want to laugh, the heat in your face becoming unbearable as you quickly reach for the lid to cover the gift up, trembling hands making a poor work to hide your embarrassment.

Forget changing universities. What about a different fucking country?

All moving plans are cleared from your mind when you hear your name. Said in a voice so deep you actually take a while to process it came from Taehyung, and a shiver runs down your spine when you halt your hands, leaving the box half open.

“I’m gonna ask you a question.” He starts, and he sounds so serious you’re suddenly scared of looking up. “I’m gonna ask you a question, and I need you to be as clear as possible, because that’s the only way I’ll understand.”

You gulp, bracing yourself for what’s to come when you nod.

“Why did you say my name?”

Your breath hitches on your throat, and you assume it’s because you expected anything but that question that you raise your head — regretting it immediately, because you don’t meet the familiar soft and kind eyes that you’ve grown accustomed to these past two days. Rather, in its place, you find a dark shade of desire burning through you, enhancing your every sense when he darts his tongue along the seam of his mouth.

“You do that a lot, you know.” You huff out a laugh. “Lick your lips. You have no idea how fucking hot it is.”

When he repeats your name this time, he sounds almost angry, and that prompts you to admit. 

“I said your name because I want you to fuck me, Taehyung.”

He immediately shuts his eyes, and a deep exhale passes his lips before he opens them again. Every inquiry, every doubt has left his eyes when he unabashedly smirks.

“Then what about you try this on, princess. Let’s see if it fits.”

When you step back into the living room you can already feel the anticipation pooling at your brand new panties. You can't help feeling kinda uneasy, so exposed while he's still fully clothed, but when his eyes find your lace clad form, basically eating you whole, something about his shameless attention sends a boost of confidence through you, and you’re sure you’ve never felt sexier in your life.

“Holy shit.” It comes out so quietly that you can barely hear it.

His eyes explore every inch of your skin, and you honestly thought his eyes couldn’t get any darker, but a thick layer of lust makes them so deep you might just get lost on them.

“Come here.” He commands, and you immediately comply, cutting through the space between you and relishing in the soft touch of his hands as his arms snake around your waist, pressing your chest on his.

The fabric of his hoodie is smooth against your skin, his body exuding an intoxicating warmth, leaving you dizzy, sick to be touched as you drive your own hands up his torso and around his neck.

Taehyung, on the other hand, seems to be in no rush whatsoever. His palm is hot against your lower back, pressing you against him, molding you to his figure. With his left hand, he starts to trace your body, trying to commit every inch, every mole, every scar, every expense of skin to memory, starting at your hips, darting inwards to your stomach, grazing up your chest to barely touch the valley between your breasts before his fingertip trace up the column of your neck, finding a resting place around your jaw. 

“Never want to forget this body.” His breath fans across your face, and your eyes flutter shut when he starts to lean in.

The way he kisses you now is vastly different from the kiss you shared last night.

Then, you two were messily trying to suffocate one another, tongues clashing together with little coordination as alcohol fueled your actions and clouded your judgment. 

Now, the soft press of his mouth over yours is calculated. Sweet and deliberate, tasting you like your lips are sacred and taking his time to cherish the way your sensitive flesh feels on his. You have to gather all your self control not to bite him, not to take over, not to just groan out your frustration, and in no time you’re melting under his lead.

He gradually starts to speed up his movements, tilting your face to open your lips with his and slip his tongue inside to lick inside your mouth. Your breathing soon turns into panting as Taehyung acts become more intentional, kissing you as if his life depends on it. 

You entangle your arms around his neck, pushing him closer to further deepen the kiss — and he matches your enthusiasm, lips moving relentlessly against yours, sucking on your tongue and pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, bruising the skin and making sure to swallow your every sound. His hand leaves your face to find your hips, grabbing and squeezing the flesh eagerly. 

Fuck, he’s such a good kisser and you’re already so turned on, you wonder if you could cum just from making out with him.

God, that'd be embarrassing.

After what feels like hours — although you think you could keep kissing him for days — Taehyung pulls away. He rests his forehead against yours, recollecting his breath. 

Can he feel your nipples hardening over the thin fabric of your bra? Because you can sure as fuck feel the agonizing press of his growing erection against your thigh.

He smirks.

“Can I mark you?”

“Yes, please.”

Your pleading voice seems to ignite something feral in him, because when he latches on to your jaw his kisses are nothing short of hungry. He drags his tongue along your cheek, before making sure his mouth acknowledges every spot of your throat, licking, sucking and biting all over your skin.

You can feel him smiling against your neck when your soft, quiet gasps turn into full on whimpers. 

“Shit” you exhale, grabbing a handful of his hair and tugging on it.

The moan that he graces you with makes your eyes roll back in delight. A shiver runs down your spine at the way he shamelessly grinds your hips on his crotch.

He pulls away, hair completely tousled, golden skin darker as he admires the blossoming colors on your neck, painted by his skilled lips. His eyes fall to your panting chest next, and he takes his hand there, enveloping one of your tits and squeezing it not nearly hard enough.

“Fuck, this shit looks amazing on you, but I kinda wanna rip it with my teeth.”

“Don't you dare ruin it, I literally just got it.”

He quirks his eyebrow, and his hand leaves your tits, tracing down your belly and reaching to cup you over your panties. Your hips jolt with the contact and Taehyung chuckles, the cockiest smirk settling on his face.

“Think you’ve already ruined it.” He groans. “God, you're really fucking wet and I've barely done anything.”

“You're hard too. I've done even less.” Your teasing is that much less effective when his fingers are ghosting up and down your pussy.

Taehyung chuckles. His hand rises to the hem of your underwear, grazing the skin below it with tortuous patience, making you clutch his hair even harder. He's sure going bald by the end of this.

“You must be so fucking messy after this morning.” He hums to himself, and you nod. “Did you get to cum?”

“No.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” His hand thread down again, tracing your folds over the lace. “Do you want to cum, baby?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“Do you want me to make you cum?”

“Yes, Tae. Please.”

He clicks his tongue.

“Now, that’s just a shame.” He slightly slaps your pussy, making you jolt in his hold and then completely takes his hand away. “Because only good girls get to cum, princess, and you’ve been such a bad girl to me these past days, so damn mean. What makes you think you deserve a present?”

Jesus Christ, if this man doesn't let you cum you're gonna seriously kill him.

“No, I promise I can be a good girl for you, baby, please” he's about to say something else when you drop to your knees, effectively shutting him up. “Let me make it up for you. Show you how good I can be.”

You try to get closer to his legs, but the movements make you wince when your knees scratch against the hard floor. You look around for something to place below your legs, but Taehyung quickly catches on.

“Here” you lift your head just in time to see him pulling his hoodie above his head, revealing his long, toned torso, golden skin shining with a thin layer of sweat and just begging for you to lick and suck some marks up his stomach. 

You're so entranced by his chest, that you take a second to understand he's giving you his clothing, and you don't give it much thought before placing it under your legs. The relief is immediate. 

“Thanks.”

He doesn't answer when your hands spread over his strong thighs, creeping up his leg to his crotch. The hardness of his cock under your palm makes you lick your lips, and you squeeze him, eliciting a sigh out of him. You hook your hands on his waistband, not wasting another second before pulling both his sweatpants and underwear down his legs.

The sight of him almost makes you choke. He's big. So fucking big and thick, but also the prettiest fucking dick you've ever seen and the realization makes you just as frustrated as it makes you wetter. His tip is engorged, flushing dark as a bead of precum accumulates at the crown. God, what a fucking sight to behold. You admire it for a second, mouth watering as you anticipate its weight on your tongue.

“Look so damn beautiful like that, baby.” He praises, hand coming down to wrap around the base of his length. “Wanna suck me?”

“Yes.”

“Go on then.” He pumps himself. “Suck my cock like a good girl.”

You promptly open your mouth, sticking your tongue out and welcoming the weight of his member with a loud moan. You suck his slit, tasting the salty precum with a satisfied hum before licking up his length. You glisten him with your saliva before flicking your thumb over his tip, teasing him and making Taehyung gulp above you.

“You’re so big,” you whine, and he twitches “so fucking sensitive too.”

You alternate between long and short licks, soaking him and coaxing sweet hisses out of his mouth. Your fingers rub his crown, and you wrap your lips around it to give it a dainty suck.

“Look at me” you command, smiling when he does — a large, loving smile before you take his tip closer to your lips and let your spit fall on his cock, spreading it all over his length.

“Holy fuck” he shudders, a long elongated groan passing his parted lips “so fucking hot.”

Pride fills your face as you dive to kiss at his base, palm diligently working on his tip. After some minutes of thorough, but tame motions, Taehyung finally caves in, tone laced in exasperation. “Stop teasing, princess” you can feel your panties sticking to your pussy “do something already.”

“But I’m giving you so much already.” You pout.

“No, no—” his groan is nothing but frustrated “c’mon, don’t you wanna be good for me?”

“Ain’t this good?” You smirk, hand still leisurely stroking his now painfully hard cock.

“You’re so mean.”

“Really? Then I should just stop.” You pause your hand, and Taehyung’s hips jolt.

“Baby” his tone is a warning, and you know you’re playing a dangerous game here, one that’ll definitely bite you in the ass later, but fuck it. It's already so worth it just to see the way his thighs clench and his gaze burns through you.

“You want me to suck you?” You lick your lips slowly, directing his impatient eyes to your tongue.

“Yes, princess.”

“Then why don’t you beg for me, Tae? Ask me real nice and I’ll think about it.”

He chuckles.

Actually chuckles in a weird, choked way, but the ferocity that clouds his eyes only makes you that much more horny. And maybe it’s because he doesn’t fucking care, or — if the throabbing of his dick is anything to go by — maybe he’s just too hard to think properly, but when he opens his mouth again is to grant you the sweetest fucking words you’ve ever heard.

“Please, princess. Be a good girl for me and suck my cock. Make me proud.” You grin.

“With pleasure.”

And you do it, because god knows how much you want it too.

If your pace was teasing, insufficient before, now Taehyung feels on the verge of passing out with the way you sink his length inside the heat of your mouth. The second you take to adjust to the stretch is not nearly enough for him to adjust to the devastating pleasure that you elicit on him, and Taehyung just instantly knows he'll lose his mind when your head starts moving up and down his dick with finality.

“That’s it baby, so fucking good.” He growls, bewitched by the way his cock disappears inside your mouth, mind blanking when you start to hollow your cheeks.

Every little sigh, every breathy moan and especially his strained praises just spur you on, encouraging you to take more and more of him with each passing, relaxing your jaw to the best of your abilities. The noises filling the living room are anything but decent, but the vulgarity of it just makes it even more delicious. 

“Sucking me so well” when you glance up, you can’t help but moan at how fucked out Taehyung looks. Mouth hanging open, eyes glazed with bliss while sweat collects on his forehead, dark hair sticking to his glowing skin as he swallows. You release him with a pop, a string of saliva still connecting you to his tip as you try to catch your breath — hands not stopping. Taehyung’s thumb finds your chin, and you lick your mouth clean “You’re sexy as fuck.”

You take two seconds to make a decision.

“Want you to cum in my throat.”

He looks at you as if you just punched him.

“You want my cum?”

“Want all you’re willing to give me.” And it's true. “Can you do that for me?”

“Fuck yes, baby. Wanna paint that sweet fucking throat of yours.”

You smile up to him, and when your attention returns to his cock you make sure to trace every inch, every vein with your tongue, making it as slippery as possible.

Taking a deep breath, you bring him to your lips again, letting your tongue lay flat under his length as you begin to push it further down your mouth. When he hits the back of your throat, you try to control your gagging and relax your jaw to better accommodate him — and also to not suffocate or something.

“You have no idea how hot you look right now.” But you kinda do, though, if the way he throbs inside you and his knees slightly tremble is any indication.

You start to slowly stretch your throat with him, and Taehyung’s overwhelmed expression is enough to make you deeply moan. His hips jolt at the vibration, making you choke.

“Shit, sorry” he backtracks, helping you recover before you’re guiding him inside again.

When your nose brushes the skin of his stomach, you know you’re not gonna be able to hold in for much longer, and you need him to cum soon, so you push through the discomfort, the tears and the way you just know your throat is gonna be sore as fuck after this, and swallow.

“Ju–just like that, that’s it” he stutters, “I'm close.”

You resume your bobbing movements, head relentless bouncing up and down his cock before you take your hands to his balls. He shudders when your light massage turns into a more thorough fondling and squeezing while you suck around him.

When you glance up at him — tear-filled eyes with nothing but lust looking up at his mesmerized ones with your mouth full of him — Taehyung’s body shudders. Shockwave after shockwave of pleasure erupts on his body, and you can feel the thick stripes of cum shooting down your throat while your lips suck on his tip, milking his high as much as you can — and he cums so much that you struggle to swallow it all. When he removes his cock from your mouth, sucked dry, he’s still jolting with sensitivity. 

“Jesus fuck” he closes his eyes tightly, trying to ground himself. You clear your throat, licking around your mouth to collect any left juices. “You’re unreal.”

He grabs your chin.

“Let me see.” You open your mouth, tongue sticking out to show him no traces of his orgasm. “Such a good girl.”

He then grabs your forearms, pulling you to your feet.

Taehyung gives you no time to stabilize yourself before his lips are on yours, but it’s only after he secures your wobbling form in a tight, strong embrace that you’re able to kiss him back. Your fingers trace up and down his biceps with as much languidness as he makes out with you with. And it surprises you, because you can’t possibly taste good right now, but his lips are so soft that you don’t even protest, thankful for the unhurried touch.

When he breaks the kiss, it’s to pull you into a hug — full on giggling into your ear.

“Fucking thank you.”

You laugh.

“You thanking me for a blowjob?”

Neither of you care about how hoarse your voice sounds, but you clear your throat to try and soothe some of the roughness nevertheless. 

“Hell yeah, your mouth is amazing. Feel like you just sucked me stupid.”

You laugh even harder.

“Nah, I feel like you were already pretty stupid before that.”

His chuckle tickles your ear, leaning his head so his lips touch your shoulder.

“Oh. You completely ruined my hoodie, by the way.”

“What?” You pull away from him in an instant. Gaze falling to his clothes on your feet — and the new wet patch that tinges the gray fabric darker. Your eyes widen in mild panic. “Shit, I'm so sorry, oh my god, I'll—”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, you should be sorry. How dare you get horny from sucking my dick, that's just unacceptable.” You pause, face still hot when Taehyung pulls you back to him, guiding his hands between your legs. The pad of his fingers ghost over your pussy, feeling all your arousal through the damp lace. “God, look at that.” He taunts, and his fingers rise to hook under the sides of your panties, pulling them up and pressing the fabric up your skin. He clicks his tongue. “This must be so uncomfortable.”

“Mhmm” you nod, tightening your grip on his arms.

“What do you say, baby? Think you deserve a present now?”

“Yes.” You sigh when he pulls your underwear even higher.

“No, no, baby. How do we say?”

“Pretty please?” You pout and he grins.

“Uhm, now that's better.”

And then he's kissing you again — but gone is the softness of his lips, now hungrily moving against yours. His hands find your ass, gripping and kneading you to his liking.

The way he shifts from shy-smiling-face-surrounded-by-hearts emoji to smirking-devil emoji is sure to make you lose your mind — and you can't fucking wait.

As you two stumble to your room, you make sure to not leave any inch of his golden skin unattended: bruising up his neck like he did yours, tugging on his hair and running your palms all over his body. Taehyung guides you past your threshold, handling you with care until the back of your knees hits the bed. He hurries you on top of it, promptly falling above you.

“You're so hot” he breathes, lips following the path between your breasts, “the hottest girl I’ve even fucking seen.” He sounds almost angry.

You’re panting as he kisses down your stomach, body squirming in anticipation — gasping when he hoists you closer to the headboard.

“Damn, princess, you’re so desperate.” He chuckles, sucking a hickey onto your hips. “Pussy must be begging for some good fucking.”

“Yes,” you sigh “want you so fucking bad.”

His smirk is devilish, lips hovering down your skin until they're just above your aching core. You raise your hips, trying to get closer to his face, but he easily avoids you.

“Tae,” you whine. “Please.”

“You wanna cum, baby?” You nod eagerly, and he shakes his head, slapping the side of your thigh. “Words.”

“Yes! Fuck, I wan— I need to cum.”

“Good.” And just like that, he is gone, sitting back on his heels.

You grunt.

“Taehyung, I'm not above murder, you should know.”

He laughs, hands coming down to your ankles and pushing them apart. His eyes are immediately drawn to your pussy — or, rather, to your arousal soaking through your panties. 

“You're so wet, baby. Feel like you can cum just if I look at you nice enough.”

“Taehyung” you glare, but your voice is too shaky to hold any power against him.

“I want you to show me.” He says, and the instant confusion on your face prompts a sheepish smile on his own. “How.” He clarifies, massaging your calves. “Want you to finish what you started this morning.”

The prospect of teaching him how to please you makes you warm all over, and if you weren't so distressed you might deny it, ask for his tongue or his fingers — but you are desperate, and no one can make you cum faster than yourself. So your hands jump to the sides of your panties, already pushing them down when Taehyung’s hands stop you.

“Want them on.”

“Kinky” you tease, earning a dramatic eye roll.

You hook a finger around the center of the fabric and push it aside.

Taehyung’s gaze grows darker when you expose your bare pussy, and he slowly licks his lips. His feasting eyes are entranced by the way your arousal drips down your folds, slicking you all the way down to your ass. He swallows thickly, hands pushing your legs further apart.

You don’t give him enough time to bask at the sight, though, because your fingers find your entrance immediately after, spreading your juices around before coming up to circle your clit.

The well-deserved, but so fucking delayed attention making your his jolt. Not wasting any second, you hurriedly roll your fingers, closing your eyes to focus on your precise, familiar movements.

After feeling lubricated enough, you sink two fingers inside your cunt and curl them to stroke your g-spot. Loud, wet squelching sounds fill the room, but you can still hear Taehyung’s ragged breathing above you; his soft grunts encouraging you as you keep fingering yourself, whispering sweet nothings to you. He tells you how pretty you look, how good you are for him, how hot you look when you’re knuckles deep inside your dripping pussy. You take your free hand to your tits, pushing them out of their confinements to twist and pinch your nipples. 

“Fuck, that’s it, baby, look at that” his voice is thick with lust, “such a filthy girl.”

His words tighten the knot in your stomach.

“I–I bet I’ll take your cock so well.”

“Yeah? Fuck, I can’t wait to stretch you, princess.” When you open his eyes, you almost cum just from Taehyung’s all-consuming gaze alone, completely hypnotized by the way your fingers disappear inside your cunt. 

“My thighs,” it comes out so quietly that you force yourself to speak again, “grab my thighs.” 

Taehyung takes a second to process your words, but then his hands are on you. Massaging, gripping, pinching and squeezing the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs with such enthusiasm that will surely leave bruises there too. The added stimulation makes you arch your spine off the bed, eyes rolling back as you can feel more arousal soaking through your fingers.

“Shit, you’re so fucking sexy. Gonna make me all hard again.” He moans, and his movements pause for a split second before he asks: “are you close, baby?”

Your legs start to tremble, and every hit to your g-spot makes you whimper.

“Yeah” you breathe, barely registering his words at this point.

“Look at me.” He commands, and you do. “You wanna be a good girl for me?”

“Yes.” 

“Wanna make me proud?”

“Yes!” You scream, tears blurring your vision — but his next words make your whole body stiffen.

“Then stop.”

You don’t. You can’t. But your fingers do lose momentum.

“What?”

“Stop.” And a slow smirk creeps up his face as yours scrunches up in hazed confusion. “You’re not cumming until I want you to.”

When you fully realize what he’s asking you, your orgasm has already been washed far out of reach. You shudder as your fingers leave your pussy, the tears collected from the pleasure roll down as frustration, but when you open your mouth to complain, Taehyung slots himself between your parted legs. His hair tickles your thighs as he pushes your underwear aside and suddenly licks up your cunt, tongue gathering all the arousal from your folds before his lips close around your clit, sucking hard.

The unexpected stimulation makes your hips jut, shuddering so violently that Taehyung pulls away, chuckling lightly as confusion coats his expression.

“Did you just cum?”

“No!” You whine. “I just… I want to cum so bad, I was so, so goddamn close and now I’m just sensitive as fuck.”

He gives your clit an experimental kiss and you grunt, hands fisting the sheets.

“Shit” he smiles, “that’s just too bad.”

Your head snaps up.

“What… what you mean?”

“You teased the shit out of me before, sweetheart. I’m still deciding if I’ll let you cum.”

“Taehyung,” you sob, “if I don’t cum soon I think I’ll legitimately die.”

“Poor thing.” He mocks.

“I’m so serious right now, please don’t do that.”

Another kiss to your swollen pussy.

“Then fucking beg, princess.” 

Well, that you can do.

“Baby, please” you sigh “please, I’m so sorry for teasing you, just–just please make me cum. Let me cum, please.”

He chuckles.

“As you wish.”

He swiftly pulls your damp panties down your legs, tossing it on the floor behind him, and then his warm tongue meets your pussy again. This time, though, you swear Taehyung is trying to fucking suffocate himself on you. He flicks your clit the same way your fingers did, skillfully twisting it and eating you out with devotion — and you sure feel worshiped. Worshiped by the way he moans, enjoying it as much as you; by the way he swirls his tongue around your clit and licks your dripping juices; but also by the way he grabs your thighs, long fingers massaging and digging on the flesh.

The stimulation is so hard and you’re so pent up, that it doesn’t take longer than five minutes of him thoroughly eating your pussy for you to start to feel your orgasm slowly building up on your body again.

“That’s it, Tae, fu–fuck” you cry out “eating me out so good, just like that.”

You’re basically grinding on his face now, and he flattens his tongue to encourage you to ride him as you please.

“Taste so fucking sweet” he hums. “Should’ve had this for Christmas dinner.”

Your chuckle is shaken when Taehyung plunges one of his fingers inside your walls, stroking you gradually to stretch you up.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He mutters. “Do you want my cock?” You nod, biting down on your lip. He doesn’t appreciate it, humming against you. “Tell me.”

“I–I want… want your cock.”

“Wanna give it to you, baby, but I’ll need you to relax for me. Let me stretch you.”

And you certainly try, but you feel so tense, so desperate to cum that you can’t seem to find your breath.

“That’s–that’s your fucking fault!” You hiss when he finally starts to thrust his fingers faster. “Edging the— nghh, fuck outta me.”

He smiles against your pussy, but says nothing when he slowly introduces a second finger. His movements are precise, careful not to hurt you but determined as he scissors you open, slowing down for you to adjust every time you flinch or so much as goes silent above him. He also changes the pace of his mouth to try and help loosen you up, and holy fuck, you don’t think you have the capacity of imagining such sweet, toe-curling oral, not even in your filthiest, most unrealistic dreams.

When he works you up to three fingers, Taehyung has to pin you down with his free hand to stop you from lifting your hips.

“Shit! Feels so–so fucking good” you whimper.

“Grab my hair.” And you do, hand releasing the sheets to push his sweaty locks away from his view, and the intensity of his eyes on yours almost makes you feel more naked somehow. 

“Jesus fu— nghh”.

Taehyung now fingers you at a relentless pace, and the skill with which he does it — angling his fingers to hit your g-spot, reaching for different sensitive areas and making your walls clench around him — is almost overwhelming.

Your legs quiver, threatening to close around his face.

“Close?”

You’re kinda scared to answer, but it’s not like you can hide it anyway.

“I’m so close! Please, Tae, let me–let me cum!”

The pleasure running through your body is so intense you feel like you could actually pass out if he denies yet another orgasm, and he can surely feel your anguish as you start to chase his face, chuckling lightly before finally saying the sweet words, “Then cum for me, princess. Cum all over my face.”

The orgasm that he coaxes out of you is maddening. Your mind blanks as your pussy clamps down hard on his fingers — which continue to thrust into, prolonging your pleasure. Your whole body shudders, toes curling with everlasting bliss, but you are surprisingly able to keep your eyes open. The sight of him, between your legs, eating you out through your high and making sure to collect every bit of your sweet release on his warm tongue is almost enough to make you cum again.

When you finally come down, refamiliarizing yourself with the whole concept of breathing, Taehyung is looking at you as if you’re sin incarnated, a loose smile on his lips. You feel so spent, but suddenly so impatient too.

“Want you to fuck me.” It’s the first thing you say after your head stops spinning.

He laughs.

“Barely took my fingers out and you’re already asking for more, damn.” He peppers your thighs with soft, soothing kisses. “Pussy so fucking greedy.”

“I want you so bad.” Your voice is so small, so quiet. You swallow dry.

“I want you to, baby.” He comes up to kiss you, sliding his tongue against yours in such a sloppy, lazy way that you can’t help but smile, ignoring the taste of your cum lingering on his mouth. “You made me so hard again, fuck.”

Taehyung grabs your thighs and hooks them around his waist. He takes his fingers to your pussy again, smearing some of your release around to better slicken you up. After deeming you lubricated enough, he guides his dick to your cunt. He drags his tip along your dripping folds, and your breath hitches.

“Fuck, you’re soaking my cock.” He grins. “Who got you this wet, baby?”

“Taehyung,” you sigh, heels pressing down on his lower back, “don’t you dare tease me again.”

“Then answer the question.” He rolls his hips harder over yours, rubbing your clit. “‘Cus I can be pretty fucking patient.”

“Fuck you.”

“I let you cum one time and you’re already talking back again.” He clicks his tongue. “One more chance, baby. Who got this pussy so… fucking… wet?” He punctuates every word with a slap of his cock against your cunt, and you gasp each time, digging your fingers on his back.

“Ungh, fuck, yo–you! Shit, you did, Tae.”

“I made you cum so fucking hard, didn’t I?” He smirks, and your hips jump slightly.

“The hardest” you whimper.

Taehyung’s so fucking glad you gave in this fast — because there’s only so much time he could endure teasing you while being desperate as fuck to feel the warmth of your cunt, to feel you wrapping around his cock the way you did around his fingers. With a deep exhale, he shifts to position his dick at your entrance.

“How do you want it?”

“Rough.” You don’t hesitate.

“Rough? Want me to be rough with you, princess?” Taehyung feels dizzy.

“Yes, please.”

“Yeah? Wanna be fucked like a slut?”

The shiver that runs through your body could’ve been enough of an answer, but you still grant him a breathy confirmation: “Yes, Tae. Want you to fuck me dumb.”

His eyes flutter shut, and, with his last thread of sanity, Taehyung starts to slowly press his dick inside of you.

He is right. You are soaked. But he’s still the biggest cock you’ve ever had. So, despite his attentive fingering and the insane orgasm he just gave you, your face still translates your discomfort as he stretches you up. Taehyung follows your cues, stopping whenever you wince and shallowly thrusting to ease you to his size, letting you adjust before moving deeper.

When his hips finally — finally — are flush against yours, you both exhale shakily.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He digs his fingers in the flesh of your thigh. “You good? Does it hurt?”

“No… just,” you exhale deeply, “gimme a second.”

While you focus on accommodating his size, Taehyung clears his throat.

“I uh, wanted to ask you something.” You notice the subtle distress in his voice, and the gaze you find when you open your eyes is filled with concern. “And be real with me.” You frown, expression slowly matching his.

“... yeah?”

He hesitates, eyes darting away from you.

“Are you… like, actually into furry?”

You burst into laughter, shoulders shaking when you bring your hands to cover your face. Taehyung’s chuckles are unsure when he joins you, flinching when your body trembles slightly. 

“Be honest!”

“Fuck you, Tae, honestly. You’re balls deep inside of me seriously asking me this shit.”

“I mean, I can’t grow a beard for my life, but we can figure something out if—” 

“Oh god, stop! I do not have a furry kink, Jesus.”

“Thank god!” He sighs. “Was really worried for a second.” Your laughter prompts a smile on his face, and he lowers his face to give you a quick peck on your lips.

“You can move now, by the way.”

“You sure?” You nod, pulling him closer.

“Let’s get on to fucking.”

He frowns.

“Damn, you gotta work on your dirty talk.”

“What? You were just talking about furry.”

“It’s different.” He huffs. “I’ll give you one more chance.”

You roll your eyes.

“Go on, baby, rock my world.” 

He chuckles.

“C’mon, that’s not doing anything for me here.”

At that comment, you shift and clench around his cock. His hips buck, reaching even deeper. You pout.

“You seem pretty hard for me.” You hiss when he smacks the side of your thigh.

“You’re such a brat.”

“Just fuck me already.” You brows knit together, and you flicker your eyes down to where your bodies meet, licking your lips. “Please, Tae.”

“You see? That’s way better.”

And fuck you he does.

When Taehyung pushes himself out of you, leaving just the tip, you barely have time to breathe before he’s slamming back inside.

The feeling of his skin dragging against your velvet walls has your mind immediately blanking, head falling back on the pillow.

The ease with which he finds a pace makes you melt under him. You’re already so sensitive from your previous orgasm and all his stupid teasing that you just know this will set a pathetic low time record, but you don’t fucking care. You deserve to feel this fucking good, and Taehyung seems to know that too, because despite the struggle it is to keep his eyes open — the desire to shut them and focus on the delicious feeling of your warm pussy squeezing his cock almost unbearable — his gaze is still trained in your face. In the way you bite your lip, or release it in a silent moan when he gets the angle just right; the way your brows knit together in bliss, or arch to your hairline with a particular hard thrust; or, yet, in the way your hold on him turns almost painful, sure to leave him bruised in the sweetest possible way, whenever he leans over you and brushes your clit.

Taehyung is a slow learner — but he learns, and he won’t close his fucking eyes until he identifies how to unwind you, how to fuck you so good he’ll ruin every other dick for you. And he seems to find it when, after a swift change in his angle, you let out a loud, tortuous scream under him, sending a large, proud smirk to his face.

“That’s it–that’s— nghh, fuck, baby, there!” You cry out, lifting your hips off the bed to try and create even more contact as his cock hits your g-spot.

“You feel so good” feral grunts spill from his mouth as he lets his eyes fall shut, “squeezing my cock so fucking tight” he groans.

Taehyung has never felt more grounded, more present. The slapping sounds, your cries, his grunts, everything is so fucking vulgar. The way the soft flesh of your thighs mold under his palm, the way he fills you to the brim every fucking time is good enough proof that this is real, that this breathtaking pleasure is real, and that Taehyung is really fucking you.

“Been… wanting to–to fuck you for so long.” He pants. 

You arch your spine off the bed, chest pressing on his.

“Holy fuck.”

“God, can’t believe this is happening.” He growls.

Your senses, on the other hand, are clouded by the feeling of his cock splitting you, fucking your body senseless and pounding into you like a man on a mission. His size, his girth, the way he twitches inside of you, making your walls even sloppier… he’ll be the end of you. You never wanted to please someone more, especially after having his mouth on you, and you can feel your control gradually slipping away every time he fills you up, reality a distant idea as he fucks you closer to euphoria. And god, you’re so fucking close.

“Yes! Yes, baby, that–that’s it” you sob, hands fisting the sheets so tightly that — if you were thinking properly — you'd be afraid of ripping it.

“God, you're… nghhn— fuck, you feel so good.” He gasps. “Are you close?”

“So fucking close.” You barely acknowledge the words leaving you, the knot in your stomach about to snap.

At your words, Taehyung’s hand leaves your thighs to reach behind your back, unclasping your bra and letting it fall somewhere in the room. He leans over you, mouth immediately closing around your left nipple, while his large fingers twist and roll the right one. You arch into his touch, sighing when his tongue swirls around your nipple.

“The most perfect tits…” he hums, glazing your chest in his spit as he seeks the other with wet kisses.

“Tae” you moan, hands entangling in his hair and pulling hard, prompting him to give your nipple a light, barely there bite, but it’s enough to make your hips shake under him. “Fuck, I’m… I’m gonna cum.”

“Yes, baby, cum for me. Cream my cock like a good girl.” He moans, words slurred as he lifts his gaze to you.

Your body starts to shudder violently as he pushes another orgasm out of you. Your legs quiver around his waist and your pussy clenches tightly, shoving a deep, guttural groan from Taehyung’s throat while your mind spirals, washing away any thoughts as his name falls lazily from your lips.

It takes a solid minute before you start to think again, body still rocking with his thrusts as he keeps chasing his own release high. You wince at the overstimulation.

“Tae” you whine, fingers digging into his back.

“C’mon, baby, ain’t this what you wanted?” He slows his pace before grabbing your legs and placing them on his shoulder, thighs firmly pressing on his chest. He sinks his cock deep inside of you with each snap of his hips, and you’re immediately gasping for air. “Didn’t you wanna be fucked like a slut?”

“Nghh” god, how is he so fucking good at this.

“You wanted to be fucked dumb. Wasn't it?” You eagerly nod, words evading you. “Then give me one more.” He breathes. “Let me see that pretty face again.”

Taehyung’s not slow, nor gentle this time. Your previous orgasms make his strokes that much easier, more delicious. Loud wet, squelching sounds fall from where your bodies meet.

“Fuuuck— pussy so fucking good.” His praise shoots straight to your core.

As naturally as before, he falls into a rhythm, slamming inside of you. Your head falls back on the pillow, dazed as the position makes him feel even girthier, bigger inside your sensitive walls, rendering you completely unable to form a single thought that isn’t his dick pistoning inside. The new angle allows him to reach even deeper, and you can feel every inch of him throbbing inside of you, grazing your g-spot in a way that has you gasping for air.

The slapping sounds of his skin on yours are sinful, and you take your hands to your tits, slicked with his spit, fondling with them to add to the ever growing bliss. 

He wants to keep saying shit, spill the filthiest fucking stuff just the way he notices that makes you wetter around his cock — but the closer he gets, less can he think properly, his filter completely dissolving.

“Wanna fuck you forever. Watch you cum for days.”

And fuck if that isn’t enticing as fuck for you too.

Your legs get a bit sore from their bent position, but you wouldn’t mind having him fold you half if it meant getting to see Taehyung’s brows knitting together, lips falling apart in silent delight.

“So-so… good… fucking me so good.” Your voice is muffled by the hard banging of the headboard against the wall.

“Shit. I’m close.” You nod. “Where do you want me to—”

“Inside” you interrupt, answer spilling from your lips.

He brokenly moans, mind blanking as his resolve quickly slips away. Thrusting impossibly harder, pouding impossibly faster, Taehyung fucks you eager to fullfil your request. 

You already feel ready to cum again, an odd pressure weighing down on your lower belly. Your mouth falls open, whispering, or rather, mumbling sweet nothings or muddled filth to him — unsure if he's even listening — as pleasure clouds your mind to the point of incoherence.

“Taking me so fucking well, pussy made for my cock.”

Taehyung takes his hand down between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit with ease as he starts to rub it, pressing and circling it with the pad of his fingers as a hard, unannounced orgasm crashes over you. You’re unable to keep still when every nerve of your body jolts with electricity, overstimulation making you lift your back from the bed as a loud scream rips through your throat.

The pleasure that overtakes you blanks your mind, and for a second you feel like you can't stop cumming. Taehyung sounds so distant, and you feel so high, so heavenly, that you almost think you're dreaming the whole thing.

“— all over me.” Is the first thing you hear when your mind starts to clear and your body slowly calms down. 

“Huh?”

You wince as Taehyung keeps fucking into you, pace now careless as he gets close to release, and you tighten your gasp on his arms, fighting through the oversensitivity.

“You just fucking squirted all over me.” You blink at his words, taking a full minute to process them before your head is snapping up in alarm.

Everything is so wet, so sloppy and messy, but before you can say anything — before embarrassment can even reach your skin — Taehyung's body is shaking above you.

“Shit, shit, shit—” He shudders. “I’m cumming.”

His groans are deep as you feel his hot release painting your walls. He digs his fingers into the flesh of your waist, hips jolting with the waves of his pleasure as he squeezes his eyes shut to focus on the overwhelming thrill running through his body. He feels so alight, as if he's just been set on fire, and every inch of him burns with bliss.

“Jesus fuck.” 

A lazy smile spreads on your face when he kisses your calves, gently pushing them to rest on the bed. He crashes on top of you, frantic breathing cooling the sweaty skin of your chest.

“I've also…” you gulp, closing your eyes, “also been wanting this for so long, by the way.”

You feel him smiling against your skin.

“Damn. I’m so happy I might just puke.” 

Your body shakes in laughter.

“God, you’re so annoying.” You pinch his side and he squirms, chuckling before tilting his head to face you.

“I kinda get the Jungkook now, though.” You frown, and he opens a large, boxy smile. “I fucking love Soojin. Best gift ever.” 

You giggle, heat creeping up your neck.

“Ugh, get off me.” You push him away, and Taehyung shifts on the bed, hovering over you.

He pulls his softening cock out of your swollen pussy, and you can see his eyes glimmering before his fingers are spreading your folds apart.

“Shit” he hisses, and you can feel the wet mix of his cum and your own release dripping down your folds. Taehyung doesn’t give you any warning before he’s diving down, licking you clean with a swipe of his tongue and making you shudder. He closes his eyes, humming as he swallows everything. After that, he moves to step out of bed, uttering a quick “hold up” before he’s out of the room.

You can hear some cabinets and drawers opening before he’s back, a towel in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He proceeds to clean you up with the softest, more tender touches possible, mindful of your sensitivity and halting his movements whenever you flinch, while you soothe your raspy throat. 

“You might need to sleep with me tonight.” You frown. “You made such a fucking mess. Sheets are ruined.”

You scoff.

“And who’s fault is that?”

He smirks.

“Sorry I fucked you so good.” You giggle, covering your face when you feel your cheeks warming up.

“So annoying.”

Jungkook loves Taehyung. They’ve been friends for ten years now and — although there have been days — Jungkook would never change anything about his friend.

…

Maybe make him a bit less murderous in the kitchen. But besides? Taehyung is perfect.

…

Okay, maybe not perfect. No one is perfect, and Taehyung did tell a younger, inexperienced and quite stupid Jungkook that girls get hot when you touch the back of their knees. Not to mention that time when Taehyung dragged Jungkook to a regency costume party — a ridiculous one at that: how is a vampire not a historical costume? He was fucking hot with those red lenses, putting Robert Pattinson to shame with that glitter body spray. 

Anyway, the point is: he loves and cherishes Taehyung, especially the sweet fucking body lotions this guy uses (fuck, he smells good). And he knows Taehyung too. He knows Taehyung better than anyone in the world, probably better than Taehyung himself. And that’s why he knows, the second Soojin confesses what she got you for Christmas, that Taehyung isn’t gonna deal well with it.

“For the last time, babe,” Soojin explains, “a woman should never be ashamed of wanting to feel sexy. You men keep making us feel vulgar about our sexual lives, and create all this taboo about our bodies. No wonder why we hate ourselves. In fact, did you know that—”

“Soojin,” Jungkook sighs, pulling their bags out of the uber’s trunk, “I’m just saying that maybe, maybe, you could’ve given her a heads up not to open the gift with Taehyung… they’re probably super awkward already and a fucking lingerie set won’t help.”

Soojin huffs.

“You have no faith in Taehyung.” Jungkook stops in the pathway to the chalet door, giving his girlfriend a pointed look.

“I know Taehyung, it’s different. This will either make him super self conscious about how he fucking vomited on her, or make him wanna swallow his fist because of how horny he’ll get. Either way he’ll malfunction.” Jungkook pauses. “Fucking is also an option.”

She pouts.

“But didn’t he say that they were cool?”

“Fucking is cool, but he could’ve also meant that he’s been locked in his room for three days.” Jungkook’s face twists in concern. “We’re lucky if he even got out to eat.”

“We’re lucky if they didn’t cook anything. The last thing we need is them food poisoning one another.”

“Not to worry. Taehyung knows the treatment by heart now.”

They reach the door, and Soojin grabs the keys in her purse. They’re careful as they step inside, mindful of it barely being past six in the morning, but any attempt at silence is futile when Soojin’s attention is drawn to the living room couch. 

“The fuck?!” She screams, scaring Jungkook to drop down the bags.

The sharp sound makes you jump away from Taehyung’s lap, losing your balance and falling ass first on the hard floor.

The four of you freeze for a moment, sharing weird, confused looks before Taehyung’s heart finally resumes to a normal pace and he understands that no, the house isn’t being invaded and you two won’t get robbed in nothing but underwear, he can’t help but glare at his best friend.

“Jungkook why the fuck are you here?” He says, extending a hand to help you on the couch after you find your discarded shirt on the floor.

“Wow, nice to see you too, asshole.” Jungkook’s eyes flicker to the TV when music starts to play through its speakers, a deep frown settleting on his features. “You watching Grinch? The hell?”

Soojin turns to her boyfriend.

“Is Grinch really the most unexpected thing here?”

“Tae, did she force you to watch Grinch?” He narrows his eyes. “You know this ain’t good for you. You won’t be able to sleep.”

Taehyung groans.

“Jungkook, shut up.”

You quickly put on your pajama top, tugging it as further down as you can.

You open an awkward smile.

“Thanks for the gift, Soojin! We— uhm, I really loved it.”

note ↠ sooo, what do we think? 🥹 i hope y’all liked it! it took sO LONG to upload this omg, tumblr just wasn’t vibbing with our himbo!tae 😔 but it's here! i actually had to learn some quick html codes to edit this lol, i'm so stressed

note² ↠ all form of feedback is deeply appreciated!

note³ ↠ thank you so so very much for reading it 🥹

note⁴ ↠ you can go back to navigation here

[niemernuet]

Mentally I've been stuck here ever since I learnt that Dani had to babysit this ⬇️ Odi through his worst hangover during his very first wc finals in 2018:

The head coach is terrifying to approach at the best of times; today, in his current mood, he looks downright menacing as he drives past the entrance to the parking lot. Neither Daniel nor Justin are deterred though, and hurry across the uneven, icy ground as fast as they can. In their back, the long, drawn out lake lies grey and calm at the bottom of the valley.

They begin to talk at the same time.

“Excuse me, I think there has been a misunderstanding,” Daniel says.

“You can’t do this, Coach!” Justin says.

The coach, still half-way hunkered over as he is exiting the car, stops in his tracks, and glares at them. Both Daniel and Justin are wise enough to stop what they are saying. For a few heartbeats they are both quiet as the coach’s frightening glare rests on them. Daniel is the first to read his expression correctly.

“Hello,” he says.

“Hi,” Justin adds quickly, and they both follow the coach as he walks towards the boot of the car.

“Hello, boys,” the coach rumbles. Justin’s mouth is wide open again, though this time, Daniel shoves his elbow in his friend’s ribs, and takes over.

“I’m sorry but I think there has been a misunderstanding with the allocation of the lodgings.”

“It’s the last race week of the season, you can’t do…” Justin begins but again is silenced with a well-placed elbow to the rib cage.

“I’m just not sure there’s a good reason for your decision…though we fully respect it,” Daniel hurries to add. “But we thought that maybe there are some improvements we could do…and it would be beneficial for the whole team. Also…”

The coach raises a finger, and Daniel stops mid-sentence. Again the coach glares at them for the fraction of a moment too long.

“You will not share an apartment,” he eventually says. Daniel and Justin sputter like stalling snowmobiles in his back while he pulls a suitcase out of the car, and puts it on the ground.

Once more he silences them with a raised finger. “Do you want to know the reason?”

“Yes!” they exclaim.

“You!” the coach says, and points his finger at Justin whose expression immediately turns to utter shock.

“What? I didn’t do anything!”

The coach laughs as he pulls out another suitcase. “But you did! Because of you and your idiotic post on smartbook I had to sit not in one but TWO meetings with our organisation’s president and someone from FIS.”

“It’s facebook,” Daniel says softly, his shoulders now slumped at the sudden realisation of their endeavour’s futility.

“Do you know how much I’ve had it with meetings? Up to here!” the coach barks at Justin, and draws a line across his forehead with his extended finger. “So no, you will not share an apartment this week. You received your flatmates, and I told the team everyone who swaps with you will walk to South America next summer.”

“This is retaliation!” Justin cries out.

The coach laughs, and closes the hatch of the car. “I guess you could say so, yes.”

Daniel grabs Justin by the shoulder, and with a little bit of struggling mangages to push him away. “I understand that must have been annoying but I don’t see how that is a reason to punish me for it.”

The coach locks the car, and grabs his suitcases. “You’re not being punished.”

“You put me in the apartment with the rookie!” Daniel almost shouts, his nerves getting more frazzled by the second  as he struggles to keep Justin back.

“This is so unfair!” he throws in over Daniel’s shoulder.

“Listen!” the coach barks, and both straighten their backs. Again the finger lands on Justin.

“I’m giving you a bit of friendly advice, because I’m your coach, and it’s my job: The next time you want to call out FIS’ marketing strategy, I want you to go to a home-trainer, and I want you to pedal until your tongue touches the ground. Because this will be a much smarter use of your energy than anything else you could do.” Justin throws up his hands but the finger wanders over to Daniel, and he gets no chance to rage further.

 “And you are not being punished. He’s a good kid, and I’m sure you will get along just fine. In fact, why don’t you go over and lend him a hand?” 

Daniel and Justin whirl around. They barely register the coach taking off at a brisk pace as they stare at the bus and Gisin that have arrived on the parking lot while they have been busy. 

“I’m sure you’ve already heard of Daniel and Justin from the slalom team. They’re…well, you’ll get used to them,” Marc says to the young man climbing out of the passenger side of the bus. “Laurel, Hardy, this is Marco.” 

Strands of blonde hair peek out from under Marco’s oversized hat and curl around his shoulder, and even though he is quite tall himself he is so lanky that he could disappear entirely behind Gisin’s large frame. He snorts at Marc’s last remark, and bites down on his lip. From the other side of the bus, their service man appears and opens the back.

“This is all your fault,” Daniel hisses to Justin, and walks over to Marco. “Hi, I’m Hardy.”

-----

Their lodgings take up an entire street of long barracks separated into units, a short stretch behind the main street, and just elevated enough to get a glimpse of the lake through the naked birches. Justin and Daniel take off with Marco’s baggage while Gisin keeps Marco back by the shoulder. They have reached the first doors already when he catches up with them.

“It’s all true,” Daniel says.

“What is?” Marco asks. He is skipping along, only a backpack and his jacket dangling from his arms.

“Any warnings he told you about us.”

Marco laughs. “No warnings, he told me the number of his and Beat’s apartments, in case it gets boring with you.”

“That’s even more insulting,” Daniel grumbles, and fishes the key out of his pocket. They shuffle through the door of the tiny apartment, and drop the bags in the small space between the kitchenette and the rickety table. With a sigh, Daniel turns around to face Justin.

“Is this because…” He breaks off when he realises where Marco is heading. “Excuse me, that one’s my room,” he says loudly.

“I thought so,” Marco says, his feet right at the edge of the threshold, and with slumped shoulders stares wistfully towards the window with the breathtaking view over the lake and mountains behind it. “Pity.” 

Daniel waits until he moves on towards the other room facing the back alley to turn back to Justin. “You don’t need to sulk because I said it’s your fault.”

“I am not sulking!” Justin exclaims. “Because it is not my fault!”

“I told you you’d just stir the pot without changing anything!”

“Someone had to finally say what a clown organisation FIS is!”

“Everyone knows that!” Daniel shouts from the other side of the table. They both pause in their yelling to stare at Marco coming back from his room. He shrugged out of the top layer of clothes, and his hair is standing up in all directions from the static of the hat’s synthetic fibers.

“Oh, don’t stop because of me,” he says, and grabs his bags by the handles. “I just need these here….thank you.”

“Yeah but nobody puts any pressure on,” Justin snaps as soon as Marco has disappeared.

Daniel shakes his head. “Is this still because of your DNF in…”

“IT IS NOT! Frankly, I don’t even know why you had to go and complain. Now the coach will…”

“I?” Daniel barks. “I had to go? I did this for us but okay, I guess you prefer Loïc’s company over mine then…”

“You did it because you didn’t want to bunk with the rookie,” Justin shoots back, and crosses his arms in front of his chest while Daniel furiously tries to shush him. An apologetic smile washes over his face when Marco’s head peeks around the corner of the hallway. He is topless now, and a towel is dangling from his shoulder.

“I didn’t say...it like that.”

“It’s okay,” Marco answers light-heartedly. “I’d much rather be with Thomi too, even though he sounds like a chainsaw when he sleeps on his back. At first I thought the coach hates me but now I’m glad to know it’s because of you.”

Daniel blinks. “Oh.”

Marco smiles at him. “Right. Hey, would you mind if I took some of your soap? I’d like to take a shower before dinner but I forgot it at home.”

“You forgot your soap at home?”

“Well…more like my toiletry bag,” Marco explains, and stares at Daniel with his big, brown eyes.

Daniel needs a few seconds before he can answer. “Sure,” he eventually manages.

“Cool, thanks,” Marco laughs, and disappears in the bathroom.

Daniel chuckles when he turns back to Justin. “This is so much worse than I thought. He’s like you! This week will be hell.”

-----

It is not easy to talk with a pair of lips on his own but Daniel is quite practiced.

“No!”

As if he could convince him if he just pressed against him harder, Justin wraps his arms tighter around Daniel’s neck, and kisses him with even more fervour.

“Please,” he begs in Daniel’s mouth, and grinds his hips against Daniel’s just hard enough to make the narrow bed squeak.

“Absolutely not…not when I’m bunking with the rookie.”

Justin whines, and shoves his tongue even further in Daniel’s mouth.

“He’s not here yet,” he mumbles.

Daniel snorts, and pulls his head slightly back. “He better come back soon, he has a race tomorrow.”

“He’s young,” Justin shrugs, and follows Daniel until his head bumps against the wall and he can no longer evade his kisses. “He’ll be fit enough. Please, Poulette…”

“M-mh,” Daniel answers, and shakes his head so that their lips lose contact. He drags his fingers through Justin’s hair, and smiles at him. “I’m sorry, not tonight.”

“We’ll be quick, come on…” Justin begs, and Daniel laughs again.

“I know you will be quick,” he teases, and silences Justin’s outrage with another kiss until he stops fighting, and melts against his chest. Just when Justin tries another angle by putting his hand over the bulge under Daniel’s sweatpants, something heavy crashes against the front door. At once they pull apart. The noise outside just barely reaches Daniel’s room at the other end of the apartment, separated by two doors and heavy insulation but they still hear the breathless, almost shrieking laughter.

“Jesus, are you alright?” Gino yells.

Again something heavy drops against the door. Justin lifts one leg, ready to slip off the bed but Daniel keeps him in place, and shakes his head.

“I’m okay, I’m okay!” Marco’s voice assures. 

“So…do you want to get up again?” Gino asks after a short moment of silence.

“Uh, yeah…as soon as I know which way is up.”

Again Gino’s laughter reverberates through the apartment.

“Silence!” Marco laughs. “I’m with Yule and he’s already sleeping.”

“Sleeping, right,” Gino grunts. “Which one’s your room?”  Something heavy moves over the floor, and then drops against the wall to Daniel’s room.

“Thank you,” Marco says. “This one there. And it’s true. I saw him leave earlier, so we really have to be quiet now or…”

The door springs open and with a loud bang slams against the wall. Light from the kitchen as well as Marco follow right behind, though Gino can catch him at the last moment before he faceplants to the ground again.

“Wait, no, that’s not my room, that’s…ohhh…” Marco’s voice dies down as he takes in the scene on the bed. Then, a big smile spreads over his flushed cheeks and the blonde hair clinging to it, and he waves enthusiastically at the people on the bed. “Hi Daniel, hi Justin!”

Justin chuckles, and waves back. “Hi, Marco.”

“I was twelfth in the downhill today!”

“We saw. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“Okay, let’s get you to your real room,” Gino presses through clenched teeth, and hoists Marco towards the hallway. “Sorry about that, guys.”

“No problem,” Justin says but neither of them is still listening as they shuffle off.

“Told you he’s sleeping alright,” Gino giggles, and another door gets slammed.

Justin chuckles, though he pauses when he looks down at his boyfriend and sees Daniel’s exasperation.

“Come on, he’s endearing,” he says, and kisses him.

“Annoyingly so,” Daniel snorts, and pushes against Justin’s shoulders.

“You used to love it when I did it,” Justin sighs but does not fight as he gets shoved off the bed.

Daniel grabs Justin’s jacket and throws it over his shoulders. “That’s because you used to be much more charming and sexy and handsome and overall breathtaking than him.”

Justin grins and leans in for another kiss. “Used to?”

Daniel smirks, and shoves him towards the door. “Good night, Honey Bear.”

-----

The slats of the bed are groaning almost as shameless as Daniel. His knuckles shine white as he clings to the headrest like a drowning man.

“Fuck, Justin…,” he moans, his legs twitching over the rumpled sheets. “Oh, fuck…”

Justin hums around Daniel’s cock in his mouth, and picks up the pace with his strokes. Daniel does not need more, and with a choked cry comes in spurts down Justin’s throat. He is still riding the wave down from the climax when Justin plops down next to him, and snuggles against his chest.

“See? I told you there’s enough time.”

Daniel laughs softly, still out of breath, and plants a kiss on Justin’s sweat-sheened forehead. 

“Okay, for once you were right.”

“M-hm,” Justin hums with a satisfied grin. For a few moments they lie together in silence before Justin pats Daniel’s chest, and sits up.

“You’re going already?”

Justin snorts, and grabs his trousers from the floor. “I only have the one back with me and I need it in two days…” He pauses, and checks the watch on his phone, “...no, tomorrow. I can’t share this cot with you tonight.”

Daniel sighs, and boxes the pillow under his head a few times. “This week sucks.”

Justin pulls his shirt over his head, and leans down for another kiss. “It’s almost over. Only two more nights with your new best friend.”

Daniel rolls his eyes. “Considering the way he partied yesterday for a twelfth place I’m sure I won’t see him until we’re on the plane after today’s race. Tell Loïc my regards.”

“No, thanks,” Justin laughs, and softly shuts the door.

The party of the sponsor down in the village is still shooting rays of colourful light into the sky but Daniel is tired enough that he feels sleep crawl over him the moment he closes his eyes. He is almost entirely dozed off when his phone starts to vibrate again. For a second he considers ignoring it.

“Missing me already?” he mumbles as he puts it against his ear.

“Uh…no, sorry.”

Daniel shoots up. “Fuck…I mean, hi.”

Gino chuckles. Thumping bass music fills the background. “Hi. I’m just calling because I was afraid you wouldn’t see it if I wrote.”

“Okay?”

“It’s stupid but could you maybe check whether Marco’s already home? I was just on the toilet and when I came back they told me he left.”

Daniel silently throws up  his hands and rolls his eyes, though he cannot hide the drawn-out sigh when he answers. “Okay, fine. Though I’m pretty sure he’s not here ye…” He stops abruptly as the front door slams shut.

“What?” Gino asks in the growing silence. “Is he with you?”

“Oh no no no!” Daniel cries out at the terrible sounds coming from outside his bedroom. “I swear if you…” He pulls the door open, and stares at the scene unfolding in the small kitchenette.

“What? Daniel, what’s going on?” Gino yells through the phone.

“Everything’s okay,” Daniel sighs, and slumps against the door frame. “He’s not puking on the floor.”

“He’s puking?” Gino echoes, still loud enough that Daniel does not need his phone to hear him from the village square. 

He walks around the table, and steps to Marco who is hanging over the sink, and throws up another part of his dinner from earlier in the evening.

“Oh yeah, like mad,” Daniel chuckles. “But don’t worry, there can’t be much left inside of him.”

“Okay…” Gino answers, and hesitates for a second. “So…could you maybe…”

Daniel sighs again. “I’ll make sure he won’t asphyxiate on his own vomit…wouldn’t want to lose our junior world champion, right?” He pats Marco on the shoulder and elicits a soft whimper from him.

Whatever Gino says next drowns out in a new song and the DJ shouting, and Daniel takes it as cue to hang up. He leans over Marco’s hunched body, and turns on the faucet. While the ice cold water takes care of the worst mess, Daniel flips through the few cupboards until he finds a plastic mixing bowl. In the faint light from Daniel’s room shining into the rest of the apartment, Marco’s face and hair have the same grey colour. 

“If you feel like there’s something else you need to go over in your head, aim here!” Daniel says, and hands him the bowl.

“Thanks,” Marco mutters, and traipses off towards his bedroom. Daniel turns off the water, and follows him. He finds Marco laying on his stomach on his unmade bed, the plastic bowl next to his head.

“I will fucking delete Justin’s facebook profile,” Daniel mutters as he bends down, and pulls Marco’s shoes off his feet. He does not budge even a little, his breath coming slow and steady, and quietly Daniel slips out of his room. His feet have just warmed up again under the blanket of his own bed, when something heavy crashes from one end of the hallway to the other. With a heavy sigh he listens to the hollow, gurgling noises of Marco throwing up into the toilet. He stays put, and without realising that he has fallen asleep, jolts up a few minutes later when the same happens again. The third time he is wide awake, glaring into the darkness around him, too annoyed even to pick up his phone and write an accusing message for Justin to read in the morning. The fourth time Marco’s journey to the toilet wakes him up he notices that the lights of the party have stopped. The silence is heavier now, without the distant noise, and Daniel’s breath hitches when he hears something else between Marco’s retching. With a few whispered swear words he peels the toasty blanket back, and makes his way towards the only illuminated room in their apartment. The sharp, pungent smell of vomit hangs in the windowless bathroom, though luckily, Marco has managed to only stain the inside of the toilet bowl. Marco bites down on his lower lip when Daniel appears in the door but he cannot stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks.

“Is…everything alright?” Daniel asks even though the answer is apparent.

Marco shrugs, his cheek pressed against the cool porcelain of the toilet. He sniffles, and looks up at Daniel with red-rimmed eyes.

“Am I cool?”

Daniel’s brows fold into a frown as he tries to find something to say. “Like…right now?”

He cringes when Marco closes his eyes, and a new flood of tears rolls down his cheeks and into the matted strands of the hair clinging to them.

“I’m so stupid,” he chokes.

Daniel stares at him for a second before he turns on his heel, and hurries away. When he returns with a glass of water, Marco is still hunched against the toilet.

“Drink this!” Daniel orders. “And then tell me what’s going on.”

Marco takes a small sip. He stares at the ground, mute and deep in his thoughts.

Daniel keeps staring down at him until something occurs to him. “Is there a reason why you left the team at the party?”

Marco’s lip wobbles, and quickly he takes another sip. “I feel like I’ll never stop failing and I’ll never be as good as the others.”

Daniel rolls his eyes with a chuckle. “That’s because you’ve slept three of the last 48 hours and you’ve had two races in that time.”

Marco looks up, and blinks at him.

“Not to mention all the alcohol you’ve been putting away,” Daniel adds. “Well…temporarily, at least. Drink up, go to bed and I promise tomorrow everything will be different.”

He grabs the empty glass from Marco, and fills it again before digging a pill out of his almost depleted toiletry bag. Marco is already face-down on his bed again when he reaches his room.

“Do you think I could ever have the same that you have with Justin?” he mumbles from the depths of his pillow.

“Depends who you want to have it with,” Daniel answers, and puts the glass and the pill on the nightstand.

“Gino…” Marco sighs, and groans slightly as Daniel pulls the blanket out from under his body.

“You’ll have to ask him,” Daniel laughs. 

Marco lifts his head, and scans the room.

“Not now,” Daniel adds hastily. “Tomorrow, when you’ll be sober again…and maybe realise that you have terrible taste.”

Marco’s head drops back into his pillow, and he mumbles something inaudible.

Daniel throws the blanket over Marco’s limp body. “Take the pill here first thing in the morning,” he says, and points at the nightstand, but Marco has already fallen asleep.

“Rookies…” Daniel mutters, and quietly slips out of the room.

-----

The ending of the season two days later is sadder than anticipated, with two cancelled races and stormy weather. The teams disperse, washed away by the rain, and one after the other the rental busses stuffed with skis and other equipment leave for the airport. Daniel is checking the sidepocket of his backpack for his passport when Marco appears by his side. He huddles close to get under the open hatch of the bus. The hair poking out from underneath his hat is dark from the rain, almost as dark as the shadows under his eyes.

“Sorry you couldn’t race,” he begins.

“It’s just my luck,” Daniel says without interrupting his search. “One whole week with you and nothing to show for it. You look terrible by the way.”

“I feel terrible too,” Marco admits. “I think I’m dying.”

“It’s called a hangover. You’ll get over it. Okay, all there.” With a satisfied smile, Daniel closes the zipper of the backpack and puts it back with the rest of his baggage.

Marco shakes his head, and stares out into the rain. “I’m not sure…the only thing I know is that I’ll never drink again.”

Daniel laughs.

“Never ever! I don’t remember a thing from that night.” For a moment, Marco stares out into the rain before he dares to ask the question. “Did I say anything about Gino?”

Daniel frowns, thinks for a second. “Not that I remember, no. Why?”

Marco shakes his head. “Just because…not important.”

Before Daniel can prod further, Marco throws his arms around him.

“At first I really did not look forward to living with you but then it turned out to be quite cool. If you ever switch to giant slalom, I’d love to bunk with you during the season. But don’t tell Thomi.”

Daniel chuckles, and hugs Marco back. “And if you ever tried slalom I would gladly lend you my toothpaste and shampoo.”

Marco laughs, and skips back towards the bus where his service man is waiting. Justin rounds the corner, and joins Daniel under the hatch where they watch the other bus jolt over the gravel toward the road.

“He’s in love with Gino,” Daniel explains, and smiles at Marco who is frantically waving at them.

“Awww, Rookie,” Justin coos. “So endearing.”

[dollarbin]

Mitchell Mondays #2:

Eastern Rain

My famous brother spent much of the last week bragging about how he'd taken in all 27 hours of Bob Dylan's latest archival release. I'd love to follow in his audio footsteps and listen to all of Bobby's 74 live recordings but I'm afraid there'd be some serious repercussions:

To begin, my work computer would give up the ghost. The machine is over a dozen years old and already on its last legs, laboring under the weight of some 30,000 MP3 files and 20 years of work documents. Every time I download another Neil Young bootleg compliments of my brother's fantastic blog the thing shudders, buckles and wavers somewhere between life and death. If that box could talk it would have nothing but curse words to hurl in my direction.

My trusty old IPod would beg for mercy. Forever addled with 22,000+ songs, it no longer holds a charge for more than 10 seconds and crashes every time I transfer antique docking stations. I'm so practiced at resuscitating it that it's a shame I wasn't on hand when Steven Jobs croaked. Plus the thing often insists boy genius is playing when I'm listening to Miles Davis. There are currently just 23 MBTs or GPTs or whatever of space left on it. Attempting to sneak 27 more hours of Dylan into its guts would be like entering me and my bald spot mid-school year and in-between shaves in a beauty pageant: things would get real ugly real fast.

Plus I'd be broke! The thing is retailing for $130 and I don't have 130 cents. Frankly, I find it incomprehensible that, given my track record of getting drunk and blogging while listening to Dylan's 70's live albums, Dylan's people have yet to send me a complimentary copy. Get to work all you Dylan-people: supply the Dollar Bin with free stuff already!

Finally, if I started in on 27 hours of Dylan and the Band in our kitchen my family would all rise up, don war-shirts and take to the streets against me. I once attempted to listen to every pass Dylan took on Idiot Wind in a row on a family car trip. In my defense I thought they'd all fall asleep or not notice what I was doing. But after just two and half glacial versions I was forced to abandon my attempt. It was either that or abandon my marriage.

Happily, my famous brother shouldered these risks for me and you and emerged unscathed, though one wonders whether his big deal wife made like a desperate farmer in a Dylan song and fingered the familial hatchet with menace once Bob and the Boys struck up their 64th rip roaring version of Hollis Brown.

Good bananas, this version, in which my brother astutely hears the rhythmic foundations of Shakey's Revolution Blues, truly cooks. Seven new people were probably born right there in the theater while Bob, Richard and everybody else pounded the hell outta this thing. Robbie Robertson: wow.

But the new Dylan collection's crown jewel, again according to the only human being on earth who has actually listened to the whole thing, is a song Dylan apparently couldn't find any room for on any of his 70's records. Apparently he thought New Pony was better than this greatness.

Imagine shrugging off and then forgetting altogether a song this dense and fruitful. Dylan, of course, built up a good deal of his cult following on equally stupid decisions: Union Sundown instead of Blind Willie McTell? Sure. Joey over Abandoned Love? Why not! Disease of Conceit when he had Series of Dreams? Definitely. Stupid apparently leads to genius if you're Bob Dylan.

But dare we say the same thing about Joni Mitchell? Once RBG died, Brandi Carlile forcefully placed Joni on our throne of liberal untouchability: criticize her and you'll suffer the progressive culture's wrath.

I'm as thrilled as you are to see Mitchell alive and well, but I think treating her like a Ming vase sucks. This is the Dollar Bin, not the Louvre, and we like our artists brilliant and flawed.

Consider: Mitchell routinely showed up to parties in the late 70's in blackface, then she memorialized the whole act on an album cover. Plus she once hired Billy Idol to accompany her on a song called Dancing Clown. Joni's not precious nor perfect; she's flawed, and she's awesome.

And she too was capable of Dylan-level dumbness.

Which brings us to Eastern Rain. When her Archives project was announced a few years back I couldn't wait to finally hear a studio take of her complex and rich song which was made famous by Fairport Convention.

But apparently Mitchell never even attempted the song for an album. All we've got after three archive collections are two live versions. They're both great, even if they include a twice repeated bridge which Fairport were wise to jettison.

Just imagine if she'd cut this song for Hissing of Summer Lawns. Lyrically it would interfere - I get that - but can't you just imagine the record's swooping bass laid over lush vibes and rich vocals? Eastern Rain could have served as yet another cornerstone of that incomparable record.

Then again, maybe the song is just cursed in some way; after all even Fairport Convention were dumb with it. Just listen to how much better everything sounds on this outtake version when Ian Matthews gets outta Sandy's way:

[flusteredloser]

sugar sweet

richie tozier x fem reader

category: fluff, fluff, literally just fluff

word count: 3,3k

content warnings: swearing, stealing, slight nsfw (sexual innuendos... bc it’s richie tozier), a driving scene written by a bitch who can't drive, overbearing fluff, sonia

a/n: hello here’s a lil soft fic i wrote in a hyper state today <3 i had ‘beverly’ by ben wallfisch from the it 2017 soundtrack stuck in my head while i wrote the ending so !! enjoy

🎡

"sweetheart, if you don't put your head back in, i'm afraid i'm gonna have to marie antoinette you."

you laughed dismissively at his empty threat, feeling a grin take over. you let the wind crash against your face and through your hair, the scent of sea salt softly filling your nose. if richie thought that you were going to give this feeling up, oh, was he wrong.

despite what he was saying, the sight of morning sunlight streaking through your flying hair and your torso poking out the passengers' window was one richie wished he could get used to. despite his nagging for the past half hour, ranting about the dangers of vehicular manslaughter and mishaps, he couldn't help but beam at your laughter. 

he almost hit himself in the head for getting all worked up about safety like eddie always did, but it was something he found himself doing often with you. keeping you safe and sound was one of the few things that kept him from staying up all night. besides, you guys were going to see eddie and the rest of the losers in a bit anyways. the designated role of the pedantic worrier would soon be shrugged off richie's shoulders.

keeping one hand on the wheel, richie’s free hand never left the edge of your knee, not once in the hour-long drive. no matter how far you reached your body out his car's window, his fingers stayed glued around you. you never said anything about the gesture apart from placing your hand over his. being his was something you never got used to, but you were far from complaining.

"richierichierichie i think we're here!" you exclaim, ducking your head back inside the car.

"you sure, dummy? the massive ferris wheel and circus tent means we're close to the carnival?"

your hand leaves his to go shove his temple, "fuck off, rich."

"i know i know, you're really excited," he taps your knee, "so am i."

he pulls into the parking lot, expertly navigating his way through the crowded area before finding a space. an empty space which was coincidentally beside a sketchy beat-up minivan painted with "URIS," in fat letters.

richie laughs, "what are the fucking odds.”

his hand moves from the skin on your knee to the back of your seat, his body shifting to face the rear. you subtly eye your boyfriend sitting in the driver's seat and tried not to physically express any of the thoughts firing in your mind right then. dear god, did he look good today. you end up shamelessly staring at him as he strains his neck to squeeze his way through tight space. his knuckles turn to this ghostly shade of white when he flexed them against the wheel, his rings glinting under the sunlight.

once he finally put the car in park and shifted his weight back to you, he catches your gaze. throwing a wink, he pulls out the keys and stuffs his belongings into his jean pockets. 

you’re sure he has zero clue about the effect any of this had on you. sure, he was your boyfriend but sometimes you found yourself feeling scared at how much you liked him. this boy has you wrapped around his finger and he barely knows half of it.

you reach over and run your fingers through his unruly hair a couple more times, enjoying the way the curls bounce back. “you look so good, rich.”

he rolls his eyes at your remark, but you don’t miss the way a small blush reaches tips of his ears. “enjoy it while it lasts, i can’t let the guards recognise me again.” 

“i still can’t believe you got fired and banned on the same day, rich. that’s genuinely so impressive, you know that?"

richie rolls his eyes but you see the hint of a grin on his face, “you going soft on me, sweets?”

“could never.” you ruffle his hair, letting your nails glide along his scalp and you laugh at the way his head naturally tips back. richie had no clue why the feeling of your hands in his hair that made him short-circuit, but he wasn’t complaining.

“do we really have to go see them...” richie groans, grabbing your hand and placing it back onto his head when you pulled away.

“richard tozier. i did not pester you to drive us an hour away just so you could fold at me playing with your hair.”

he side-eyes you. “why did i agree to this again?”

“because every day for the last month you wouldn’t shut up about ‘taking eddie’s slushee v-”

“ed’s slushee virginity, riiiight,” he breaks out in a smile, “jesus, can you believe sonia never let him near one in his entire life?”

you tug his fringe towards you and the rest of his head followed, “well, now that he’s all alone there, someone’s got to be there to guide him through his first time, right?” 

he faux-pouts back at you, the mischievous glint in his eye sparkling brighter. “fine.”

finally, you let go of his hair and he pecks a kiss against your cheek before putting on his sunglasses and tipping his cap further down his face. opening his car door, you sit there dumbfounded as you watch the 6'2 disguised dork clamber out of his side with your tote bag on his shoulder.

he glances back, offering a hand as if you were going to climb out on his side as well, “c’mon, we don’t have all day.” and richie made sure you knew that by dragging you through the park, evading the guards left and right in under a minute. it was only so long before you spotted a group of idiots wandering aimlessly. bev’s bright red hair was the instant identifier, and watching this bill’s lanky frame grab a fistful of stan’s curls to yank it about sealed the deal. 

“stanley, darling,” richie yelled through the crowd, “if you wanted someone to pull your hair that badly you could’ve asked me nicely.”  “shut the fuck up, trashmouth!” stan yelled back. “wait. rich?”

you walk over and sling your arm around bev, “you guys haven’t been waiting long, have you?”  she grins at the sight of you, “no, but if i have to hear mike argue one more time that the high striker is apparently ‘broken’ i’m going to kill somebody.”

“do me a favour and kill me, bev!” stan’s voice cuts through, followed by a shriek when richie too grabs a handful of his hair. 

bev’s hand leaves yours to go smack both boys upside the head. “y’all better stop acting like children before i get fucking fired. i’m not going out like dumbass richie here did.” she eyes the rest of them, who all halt in their tracks.

“yes, ma’am,” the chorus sighed.

🎡

"ed's, i swear on your mother's smokin’ bod that blue is the. best. flavour. there's literally nothing wrong with it."

"you just called blue a flavour, richie-”

"because it can be. it doesn’t matter if blue and red colouring are the same, you can feel the difference.”

"no, i really can't. i don't understand how the colour blue could possibly be-"

richie groans, "fine, eat your mommy's packed lunch like the big boy you are." he teasingly starts to wave his cup in front of eddie's eyes.

"quit it, rich. if eddie doesn’t want toxins in his body, leave him be." ben interjects before sipping his own neon drink.

the boys huddled together around a picnic table they had managed to snatch before the carnival’s lunch rush swept over. richie and bev used to work in the carnival last summer, the two-week period spent with one another supposedly being “worse than the devil’s asscrack.” the comment itself earned richie five slaps, one each from the boys, and a high-five from bev. that was until richie got permanently banned (which you still don’t know how) and now bev carried on by herself whenever they roll back into derry. 

currently, you and bev were on your way back from the concession stands, attempting not to spill anything. you each held at least four bags of carnival foods and drinks in your arms, bev also balancing the few candy bars she stashed under her shirt. teeter-tottering your way back to the boys, richie burst out in laughter at the sight of you struggling. 

“as graceful as a job you’re doing with that, sweets, do you want some help?” he smirks, already swinging his leg over the chair.

“nope, nothing to see here,” you groan at richie’s smug grin. “rich, i swear to god if you come near me i am going to-”

“hurt me, hit me, murder me, mmhm. i’m sure you’ll do a whole lot of damage.” he winks, swiping the bags from your arms.

“freaky.” stan muttered, churning his slushee with the straw. you grumble at richie’s endearing irritating act of heroism and plop yourself next to stan empty-handed. 

“here, you want some?” stan raises an eyebrow, offering his blue slushee towards you.

“thanks stan, but he’s got my...” you glance towards richie, half-expecting to see him distributing the snacks, only to see him aggressively nudge the slushees in eddie’s face. “you know what, i’ll take it.” 

stan scoffed, “what, you thought i was offering this from the depths of my generous heart? i thought you knew me better-"

the sound of plastic crinkling and eddie’s yelp cut through stan’s sentence. 

you look back at the sight of richie threatening to pour the ice into eddie’s hair, eddie shrieking and wildly missing punches at richie. dear god, your boyfriend was such a menace. richie and eddie never spent a day where they weren’t at eachother’s throats though, but anyone with a pair of eyes could see that they deeply loved one another. rich had that effect on people, you think. he was rarely overtly loving, but it’s not like he needed to be. you guys just knew.

ben smiles sweetly between you and your gaze on richie. “you’re staring again, y/n.”

you immediately snap out of it and go to slug ben in the shoulder. “was not.”

“was too.”

"was. not."

"was too!"

you narrow your eyes at ben who sheepishly smiles in innocence. he reaches over to grab a couple onion rings from your bag to which you lightly slap the back of his hand. he groans, trying again from another angle, “just because i pointed out your goo-goo eyes at trashmouth?”

bev snatched a couple rings from across you and threw them at ben. he chuckles gleefully at the perfect catch. “you know, he’s not wrong,” she points out.

“for the last time, i wasn’t staring,” you groan.

“not about that, genius. the way you’re absolutely whipped for that dick.” she smiles. “i mean,” you barely conceal your smirk, “the dick is pretty g-”

"not what i meant," bev sighs while the rest of them groan at your words.

“seriously though,” bill asks with genuine curiosity, “how did you even end up together? how do you even like someone that much?” bev tuts from the other side, “tread lightly there, denbrough.” 

“shut up, you know what i mean. it’s trashmouth we’re talking ’bout here.” bill grins, “it’s a mystery how someone can shut him up so quick.”

you laugh to yourself, thinking about the few times you get to see richie completely speechless. “it’s not that hard, you know?” you shrug softly at the way the losers nod. you may all pretend to hate the life out of him but he always had a special place in each of your hearts. “he cares with everything he’s got, no matter what. he’s always there for you even if you don’t want him to be. i just...i don’t think he’s been anything less than...” 

“-if you say ‘perfect’, i’m going to hit you.” stan says.

you roll your eyes at stan, “fuck off, but... but yeah. it’s so easy to love him and i honestly owe you guys an apology for being so annoyingly whipped for that dork,” you joke.

aside from the distant bickering coming from richie and eddie in their own little world, a silence hung over the six of you. it was too quiet. wondering if you said something wrong, you scan over them, only to be met with six variations of a smirk. more than confused, you chuckle nervously. “i was joking about the apology thing but if you really want-”

“you said ‘love.’” bev laughed.

“what?”

“you said ‘love,’” she repeated. “that you loved him.”

“i... of course i love him, he’s..” not trusting any more of the words coming out of your mouth, you cut yourself off and gather your thoughts.

of course you loved richie. each and every one of you loved your resident trashmouth, he was one of your best friends. the two of you were the closest of friends, an insufferable duo for years before you began dating. it might have only been a few weeks since he asked you out, but it’s not like too much changed from when you were friends. 

there was only more love, more affection, only slightly more sexual innuendos (majority of them were solely just to piss off stan). 

so of course you loved him. more than you did when you were friends. which he’s gotta know... right?

“fuck, maybe i do owe you guys an apology.” you joke.

“don’t think twice about it, this is nothing compared to him. if i took a shot for every time he went on some sort of love ramble about you, i’d be fucking dead.” bev replies, “and then he would carry on.”

you laugh, shaking your head in denial, “c’mon, he does not do that.”

“are you blind?” mike speaks up. “you’ve had him since the first day you joined us at the barrens. i can still see fourteen-year-old richie ogling you clear as day.”

you stammered at your response, tripping over your words. “mike, i think you broke her. she’s become bill,” stan teases.

you go to shove stan again and sorely miss. “anyways, my point is...” 

you avoid their eye contact and go back to churning stan’s slushee. “he has my heart, fuck, he’s got all of our hearts. like, is he an asshole? sure. does he get on my nerves every other day? definitely. will he be the death of me? probably. but i l-”

“i sure hope you’re winding up to something there, sweets.” 

you snap your head up from your dreamy rambling to see richie smirking next to you and eddie squeezing himself next to bill. you feel yourself go bright red at the realisation that he had been listening. 

“i- no. that was it.”  

“you sure? you going off about me... ‘but’...” richie pushes, quoting your words.

“richie, if you genuinely think you have redeeming qualities, i suggest some self-reflection.” stan quipped. “yeah, i was just pointing how much you bother us. no ifs, no buts,” you jokingly agree.

“mean,” richie rolls his eyes, shifting back in his seat next to you.

he’s gotta know... right? 

you wink and stick your tongue out playfully, to which richie raises an eyebrow at. he glances between the blue drink in your hand and your tongue, his gaze on your lips making you nervous. 

“now, what?” you sigh, wiping the ice from your mouth and pretending that you weren’t dying to know what was churning in that brain of his. 

“nothing,” richie shrugs smugly, “just that i’ve always wanted to know how my cock looked blue.”

the comment took you off guard, your instant blush only fuelling richie’s grin. without hesitation, you lean over with a faux-pout, an act that has richie’s eyes wide. “careful there, trashmouth,” you tease loudly. “you keep this up and you’ll see how stan’s looks blue.”

bev immediately gasps with her hand over her mouth, followed by mike’s stifled cackle as he slapped richie’s back. the rest of the group looks frankly stunned, and stan’s face is on a whole different level of red. 

richie doesn’t even look the least bit angry. his jaw is dropped slightly and he runs his hand over his jaw, trying to stop the chuckle that leaves his throat. if anything he looks proud. 

shaking his head with a smile, he slings his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer. “that’s my girl,” he grins.

“yeah, that for sure is tozier’s,” bill says.

there’s no way any of you miss the way richie’s face goes red under that comment and your heart skips a beat when he squeezes your side. when no one’s looking, you lean up and kiss by his ear, absolutely delighted by the deeper shade of red on his face. 

“darl, if you don’t stop that i’m going to go as red as stan,” he whispers into your hair. the both of you look back at the boy who’s trying to concentrate on his slushee and not the blush that’s continued to creep to his neck. “i’m actually getting concerned.”

you giggle, “shh, he’s fine.”

“no really, i give it a couple seconds before eddie pulls out his medical fanny pack,” richie says.

you look up at him as you’re tucked into his side, his arm still slung around your shoulder. his dark hair and eyelashes caught the sunlight, his blue eyes glinting as he glanced back. his lips were tipped into their signature cheeky smile, almost like a cue that he was going to say something out of hand. you felt the swell of your heart grow as he raised his eyebrows, prompting what he knew you were going to say. 

“you know, earlier...” you whisper, looking down to his hand intertwining with yours. “i just... i wanted to say that i... you know... that i-”

“i feel like i should be offended at how hard it is for you to tell me you love me, sweets,” he whispers back, clearly trying to keep a straight face.  fuck.  “oh god please, you know i-” richie shushes you, kissing the crown of your head. “it’s okay, i know.” you can feel the curve of his lips against your hair. “i love you too.”

trying to tame the aggressive blush and stupid smile that reached your face, you follow his gaze over to eddie. just like richie joked, he had this fanny pack laid on the table in front of stan. you weren’t listening to anything they were saying, but you watched the way stan was squirming from eddie, insisting he did not have heatstroke. mike stood right behind stan, pinching his cheeks and periodically wrapping his strong arms around stan to stop him from squirming. bev was leaning across ben and bill’s laps, joining in and poking her fun at eddie and you notice how bill’s hands traces figures along bev’s side. ben gazes at the group of them, chiming in every so often when stan’s quips got too violent. 

it was one of those moments you wish you could freeze. 

after a while, richie whispers into your ear. “do you think they’d even notice if we left for the ferris wheel?”

you break your eye contact from the group to gaze up at him. “nope, not at all. you think you can sneak us some tickets?” 

“please, you think i got kicked out of here for nothing?” he scoffs.

“is this how you’re going to get banned again?” you grin, poking his side, “stealing tickets for your girl?”

with a soft smile, he takes your hand to subtly stand and back away from the group. with stifled giggles, the both of you manage to make it at least twenty feet without the losers even noticing. the second you two were out of earshot, richie wraps his hand around yours and begins to run, “i wouldn't want it any other way."

🎡

[maybestoryideas]

Babysitting Skid & Pump w/ Agoti and Tabi

How They Met

In a momentary lapse of your infinite wisdom and judgement, you accidentally scheduled to meet up with Agoti and Tabi on the same day you offered to watch over the Skid and Pump for Lila. Apparently she had to leave town for the day, and the kids had been getting in more trouble than usual.

You were getting ready to leave for Lila’s, only to be met with a screen demon and floating skull when you opened your front door.

After explaining the situation to them, you promised to hang out some other day, when you wouldn’t be busy. Somehow, Agoti interpreted this as an invitation to join you and help babysit, which is the exact opposite of what you were implying.

You were more than a little worried about Skid and Pump meeting your friends. The kids could be quite the handful sometimes, and your friends were prone to… outbursts.

“Hey, Tabi! I didn’t know you had a little brother.”

“Shut the fu-“

“Language.”

When Skid and Pump see Agoti and Tabi, they’re instantly attached.

“Skid, Pump, these are my friends, and they were just leaving.”

“I like your spooky masks!”

“Um, thanks… Why are you two wearing costumes?”

“It is the spooky month!”

“It’s 90 degrees outside.”

“Wanna see something really cool?”

Agoti then proceeds to get down on the sidewalk and start doing push-ups with his tongue. Skid and Pump are instantly impressed.

“Your spooky friend is so cool!”

“They think I’m cool. Whaddya say about that?”

“I say you just licked a public sidewalk and probably need to go to a hospital.”

“Can Agoti and Tabi hang out with us today? Please?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure they have very important adult things to do and need to get going.”

“Not really.”

“Dang-it.”

“Please???”

Skid, Pump, AND Agoti are at your legs, staring up at you with big begging eyes. Tabi is standing behind them with secondhand embarrassment.

“F-Fine!”

“Yay!”

Agoti is constantly bragging and being a show-off for the kids; he’s playing it up more than normal. Meanwhile Tabi’s being a lot more chill, vaguely answering any questions the kids have about him.

“You’re so good a video games!”

“Yeah, I’m a bit of a celebrity. I actually got so famous that these jerks tried to get rid of me. Obviously it didn’t work, though, and blah blah bla-blah blah…”

“Are you a ghost?”

“My body’s invisible. It’s a long story.”

Skid and Pump try to teach them the Spooky Dance. Emphasis on ‘try’.

“How are you moving your arms that quickly?!”

“I feel like an idiot.”

Meanwhile, you’re recording all of it on your phone. Haha! Blackmail.

You spent the day playing video games, watching TV, and hanging around the house.

So, at the end of the day, it wasn’t a total disaster.

Together

After Agoti and Tabi showed that they can act like decent people in front of kids, you agreed to let them join you whenever you’re babysitting.

You thought having three adults keeping track of two kids would make things easier, but they somehow manage to get into more trouble between the four of them.

“You’re supposed to the mature ones! How do you manage to cause this much trouble? On accident?!”

You always end up having to be the ‘Mom-friend’, but it rarely does any good.

“Let’s go to the spooky forest.”

“Yeah! Let’s go!”

“Let’s… not?”

“Let’s put it to a vote! Who wants to go into the cool spooky, haunted, abandoned forest?”

[Three hands immediately go up, followed by a fourth]

“And who wants to stay home and be boring?”

[One awkward hand goes up]

To be fair, Tabi at least tries to be a responsible adult, so it balances out Agoti’s chaotic enabling.

They once took everyone to Zardy’s maze. Never. Ever. Again.

“You’re going to get us lost, just like last time!”

“That was your fault! I knew exactly where we were going, but you kept taking us in the wrong direction!”

“Guys, we haven’t even gone into the maze yet. Look, the sign’s right behind yo-”

*angry SEGA Genesis and angry Russian noises intensify*

You decided to take Skid and Pump through the maze, and just left the two screaming outside the entrance. When you finally got to the end, they were still screaming. Not at each other, but at a scarecrow.

They’re a lot more well-behaved when you’re just hanging around town. Probably because otherwise they’d have to deal with police and witnesses.

If any shady creeps approach your group, Agoti and Tabi will stand right behind Skid and Pump, silently threatening until they back off.

They also do it whenever the Hatzgang starts picking on Skid and Pump, though they tone it down since Roy and his friends are still teenagers.

“Hey kid. You’re not causing trouble for my friends here, right?”

“N-No, sir! We’re just… kidding around. Oh God, please don’t kill me!”

For one Halloween, Skid and Pump dressed up as Tabi and Agoti.

“Aw! You two are look so cool and spooky!”

“How come you never call us cool and spooky?”

“Skid and Pump are cute kids. You two are public menaces.”

You frequently visit the candy store at the end of the day. On the off chance that there’s something the kids want but can’t get, Agoti will pay for it or bribe Kevin to look the other way. Sometimes it doesn’t work and then Tabi will threaten to demolish the store. That always works. You’ve started forcing them to wait outside the store while you buy everything yourself.

Even though Agoti and Tabi’s chaotic personalities feed into Skid and Pump’s mischievous behavior, you can tell that they genuinely like the kids, and you’re happy they get along well. Sometimes.

“Pump, where did you learn that word?”

“I heard Agoti shouting it when he was playing video games.”

“I thought so.”

Meanwhile

“Hm…”

“What’s up, dude?”

“I don’t why, but I think [Name’s] gonna kick my ass tomorrow.”

(Thanks for reading! Please give me things to write about?)

[bloodmoonmuses]

strawberry kisses- choi beomgyu

strawberry kisses- choi beomgyu

wc: 571

genre: boyfriend! beomgyu, established relationship, fluff

This wasn’t exactly what you had expected when Beomgyu said a celebration was in order, but then again, there wasn’t much about him that was expected. Ever romantic and supportive as always, Beomgyu had set up a picnic in his backyard to commemorate your three month anniversary.

“Holy moly, we’ve officially been together for three months!” he had spontaneously said one day, whilst the two of you walked hand in hand down the sidewalk. “We should do something,”

You crack a grin, beaming at how Beomgyu piped up at the idea of the two of you celebrating a special occasion. He swings your conjoined hands with more velocity, practically skipping now.

“People keep track of small milestones like that?”

“You don’t?” he pouts.

“Well- I have been counting the days, so…,” You said sheepishly.

“So a celebration is in order,” he concludes. “Friday at 8 works for you?”

“Sure.”

Beomgyu wiggles, and places a generous kiss on your cheek, then bounds down the sidewalk exclaiming, “This is gonna be funnnnnn!”

So here you were, all giggly and bouncy, in Beomgyu’s backyard. He’s in a tuxedo graphic t-shirt, jeans and converse, holding a bouquet of fake flowers. On the ground is a large quilt and a spread of food: injeolmi, fruit, homemade cookies, and a pitcher of sweet tea… In between the food are little mason jars, each with a flickering candle inside. For as simple as it may be to others, to you it’s stunning. And if not for Beomgyu’s ridiculous get up, you’d probably be tearing up a bit.

“What are you wearing?” you ask with an incredulous scoff.

“I take the time to get into an elaborate outfit-” he gestures to himself gaudily, “and that’s the look I get?” He sidles up to you, and pulls you into a tight hug. You melt into the embrace with ease. Beomgyu kisses the top of your head. “Happy three months.”

“Happy three months, you idiot.” Your voice is muffled from being against his chest.

“Shall we eat?” He releases the embrace and pokes out his elbow dramatically.

“We shall.” Arm in arm, you bound towards the quilt and take a seat. Once seated, you plop a strawberry into your mouth.

“This is gonna sound weird-” Beomgyu starts.

“Oh no…”

“I really like it when you eat strawberries because it stains your lips. It’s really pretty.”

“Okay. Not as weird as I thought.”

“See? I’m getting better at that!” He beams, and you subconsciously mirror his smile.

“Still weird though!”

After a beat, Beomgyu begins wiggling his brows. “He’s such a menace…” you think.

“There’s another reason I like it when you eat strawberries.” Suddenly, he leans in for a chaste kiss. You giggle as you deepen it, balancing by placing your palms onto the soft quilt beneath you. When Beomgyu finally pulls away, he dramatically licks his lips, smacking like he’s just finished the best meal ever. “Tastes good.”

You scoff incredulously, pushing him away with a playful shove. “You are absolutely disgusting.”

“And you absolutely love it.”

“It’s true. I do love you… Most of the time.” You pull him into a hug, arms looped around his neck.

He whispers into your ear sweetly. “Happy anniversary. I love you.”

“I love you more, Beomie”

a/n: happy three years txt! sending light and love to all who come across this!

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

↝ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ: y/n pinning them against a wall - prompt inspired by this twitter post

↝ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: kuroo x f!reader + sakusa x f!reader 

↝ ᴡᴄ: kuroo - 1000+ sakusa - 900+ 

↝ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: swearing, aggressive behaviour-ish. 

↝ ᴀ/ɴ: I’ll be doing this prompt for Osamu, Akaashi and Yaku too soon ~ I just like it a bit too much haha. also I edited this 3 times so if there are still errors, I am sorry pls ignore. lmao. 

Kuroo Tetsurou

A low rhythmic hum vibrated inside of your throat, to accompany the track playing from your phone. Those who were fortunate enough to catch the melody trailing along with you, would often find a smile on their face. Between the tranquility of the sound and the bliss warping into your aura – your presence accidentally had an impact on many. Those in your university only knew you as the kind singer who would offer sincere smiles, free of cost. It was a reputation you did not mind adhering to – maybe it was better that they did not see the darker shades that coloured your soul. So, generally, a smile would remain sewn into your visage – unwavering until you were within the safety of your home. Where you could release the other parts of you that were deemed “not school friendly.”

Though, today your calculated barrier between the two worlds would disintegrate, due to the careless words of your best friend, Kuroo Tetsurou.

Upon reaching the corner that would connect you to the hallway where your class room was situated, you plucked out an earbud and placed it back into its case. Since this was a course you shared with Kuroo, the two of you held an uncommunicated agreement to wait for the other before entering the room. The thought of your close friend twisted a knot inside of your chest with threads of adoration, excitement and hope. It was quite clear that your relationship was not merely platonic. The issue was that neither of you had initiated the first step to test the boundaries.

But you would try today. You would try after class.

“So, what’s going on between you and l/n?”

Hearing your last name, you paused before switching hallways. How many other l/n’s were at the university? It was certainly a conversation about you. 

So the question was, who was the one posing the question, and who was the one about to answer it?  

“We’re just friends.”

Okay. Easy. That was Kuroo. 

The nonchalance laced into his answer fueled the flame igniting in the pit of your stomach, yet you continued to conceal your presence from the pair. 

“So you don’t mind if I ask her out?”

“It’s not my place to say anything.” Even without a visual, you knew your best friend would have added a shrug to accompany the statement. Somehow, that irritated you more. 

Rolling your eyes, you stepped past the corner for your grand reveal. “Hi there, boys. You wouldn’t mind if I borrowed Tetsurou for a second, would you?” 

Your sudden emergence had startled Kuroo, but what had his chest constricting was your use of his first name and the hallow laugh that was spilling from your lips. 

“Uh, sure…”

It took you a second to realize who the other male was – he was an acquittance of yours, one you shared two classes with. One who was mostly forgettable not due to a lack of charm, but solely because he wasn’t Kuroo.

“Perfect. Thank you.” Curling your fingers around your best friend’s wrist, you dragged him down the hallway, not caring for the confused glances thrown into your direction by those around you. When you reached the area between the staircase and corridor, you gently pushed him against the wall before placing both of your palms on either side of him. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but you were quick to drown out his voice with your own.

“No. You don’t get to do that. Just friends? That’s bullshit.” The concoction of emotions weaving into your bloodstream had given you a headrush. But at the center of the varying feelings was fear. Because you wanted more than a friendship, and you were about to risk your entire relationship for that desire. You tried to suppress it, but over time it became overwhelming. And now – his words had awoken something inside of you. Something you could not contain.

The black-haired male blinked down at you, his irises moving from your arms walling him in, to the death glare your eyes were partaking in. “Isn’t that what we are, y/n? Friends?”

Out of the options available to him, Kuroo had selected the one for a coward. Or perhaps, he was testing you. Either way, your irritation with him had increased tenfold.

“Fuck you.” Lowering your hands on either side, you stepped away from him before turning back into the direction of your class.

“I wasn’t done yet.” A sigh left his mouth as he caught your wrist with his hand, tugging you towards him. Once your back aligned with his chest, he repositioned his arms to curl around your stomach. Heat spread throughout your entire body, and you were unsure whether it was from your anger or due to his close proximity. “We are friends, y/n. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be more. You’re right, it is bullshit. But I can’t exactly go around telling everyone in the school that I’m in love with you, now can I?” Feeling you become incredibly still in his arms, he chuckled softly, pressing a kiss against your head. “But if I had known you would get that pissed off so easily, I would have said something stupid earlier. Because pinning me against the wall – that was hot.”

“Shut up.” Breaking away from his hold, you spun around to face him. A half smirk was tugging at his lips, one that communicated how much he enjoyed the situation. “You are horrible. What would you have done if that guy asked me out and I said yes? Hm?”

“I’d probably cry and then say on to the next one!” To further instigate you, he dipped an eyelid into a wink.

“Really. Horrible.” With your passion deflating, exhaustion crept into your muscles, bringing a groan to sound. “Let’s just get to class.”

“Nuh huh. We can ditch one class. Plus, you still haven’t said it back.” Tilting his head, he proceeded a step forward to close the distance once more. He then tapped on your chin, allowing your gazes to connect. 

Inhaling a deep breath, a faint smile was presented towards him.

“I love you too, idi-.”

The remaining half of the insult did not leave your mouth, rather it was replaced with a muffled protest as Kuroo gently caught your lips with his. As you tried to break the exchange, he tangled his fingers in your hair, keeping you secure against him, before mumbling. 

“That’s boyfriend to you.”

Sakusa Kiyoomi 

The repetitive interaction between the laminated flooring and the leather training balls had resulted in a dull ache in your temples. As the manager of a professional volleyball team, you were well accustomed to the noise but today, your patience was running thin. Practice had officially ended two hours ago, and yet your boyfriend, Sakusa Kiyoomi continued fine-tuning his serves. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you scanned the male for any indication of exhaustion – something you would have capitalized on, in order to reason with him. Except the outside hitter’s reserve of energy was far from being depleted. It often surprised you how resilient he was, he certainly did not have Bokuto or Hinata’s stamina, but that did not keep him from pursuing his goals. Whenever he would discover a new technique or target, he would work on it relentlessly. It was an admirable trait, one that made him one of the best players you had ever seen.

And let it be known, supporting him was always your intention. But at the moment, you were passing your own limits and remaining calm and composed was not an option. Between the throbbing on either side of your head and the acids chewing away at your stomach lining from hunger, you were seconds from raiding Bokuto’s secret snack stash.

“Omi, you’re done. Go take a shower.” After swapping your clipboard for a towel, you proceeded across the court, before offering it out to him.

The outside hitter stared at you in response, indicating that he heard your commands but was electing to ignore them. Returning his attention to the volleyball within his grasp, he began prepping for another serve. A sigh mixed with a growl rattled inside of your throat as you twisted the towel in frustration. When the ball landed on the opposite side of the court, an eerie grin stretched onto your mouth.

“Omi. You little shit.”

With each step you took forward, Sakusa intuitively took one step back until his back was met with the padding attached to the wall. You were quite aware of your height difference, although that did not matter. You planted your hands on either side of him, purposefully caging him in. Knitting his brows together, confusion swam in his dark irises.

“What are you doing?”

“What are you doing? I’m not asking you to finish up. I’m telling you. We finished practice two hours ago, and I am starving. If you do not go into there and take a shower this instant, I will not be responsible for what happens to you. You know what they say – you’re not yourself when you’re hungry.” After gesturing to the locker room with your head, you squinted at him, attempting to seem menacing. However, you were only met with amusement.

“Are you saying you will eat me?” The question had Sakusa battling a smile. Was he really supposed to find that scary?

“We both know someone like you would taste delicious, so I’m not saying that isn’t a possibility.” Maintaining a deadpan expression while spouting nonsense was not a task for the weak – but after having countless conversations with actual idiots, you had mastered it. You would not provide your boyfriend any satisfaction.

“Okay. I’ll go.” His admittance of defeat was joined with the raise of his eyebrow, communicating that he expected you to “release him” now. You were about to comply with the silent request when he dipped down and placed a fleeting kiss onto your mouth. The sudden display of affection had erupted a volcano of butteries inside your stomach.

“What the …”

Leaving you there baffled, the MSBY player slipped past your defenses, smiling to himself. 

Two could play at this game.

Later that night:

After gifting you an apology meal at your favourite fast-food joint, you both elected to walk home rather than taking a taxi. His fingers were intertwined with yours loosely, and since the streets were mostly abandoned, he had removed his mask, permitting his lungs unrestricted access to the fresh air. Now that your mood had elevated significantly after satisfying your human needs, you were ready to question your boyfriend on what occurred earlier inside of the arena.

“So, why’d you kiss me?” Kissing was generally an activity he preferred to engage in after showering. And therefore, you were puzzled by his recent actions.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shifting his gaze to the row of streetlamps that framed the sidewalk, he lifted his shoulders into a shrug.

“You liked that I threatened you, didn’t you?” A gentle laugh danced past your lips as you shook your head. That seemed to be the only explanation you could think of in the moment.

“No. You looked cute trying to seem scary.” He joined his retort with a scoff, although it was evident, he was suppressing any physical indication of joy.

“I am scary!” Resisting your urge to pout, you squished his hand to reinforce your statement.

“Yeah, sure you are.” Refusing to bestow upon you his full attention, his eyes travelled to the sky above. While he would not vocalize it, he found most of your antics to be ridiculously adorable. It was what he loved about you. And there was no denying that you could certainly scare others when deprived of food – but not him.

“I will eat you. Don’t tempt me.” A small pout forced its way to your lips to display your mild annoyance. Though, the emotion was easily defeated when Sakusa in a quick swoop, stole another kiss. This time, however, he lingered, enjoying the taste of your lips. 

It turned out that maybe his rules around kissing required some amending. Because he wanted to kiss you, whether or not some of his pre-conditions were met. Guess that was a consequence of being in love.

Once he pulled away, he exhaled a chortle.

“Yeah? I’m looking forward to it.”

General taglist: @haikyuufairy​ @newfriendjen​ @lvoejimin​ @moonlightaangel​ @gyozaaaaa​ @byun-nies​ @thevillagehiddenintheinternet​ @amberalisa​ @graykageyama​ @yourstarvic​ @chaichai-the-weeb​ @chibishae34​ @haikyuusimp91​ @volleybloop​  @rajablast​ @idiot-juice-enthusiast​ @melonmayhere​ @cuddlesslut​  @athenarosaline​ @memes-and-money​ @coconut-dreamz​   @elianetsantana​ @tsumume​ @tsukkismamagucci​ @the-golden-jhope​ @camcam1617​  @elephantloser​ @dreamstormings​ @anejuuuuoy​  @fantasycantasy​ @aquariarose​ @bloody-bella​​ 

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN SERIES : EPISODE TWENTY-TWO PREVIEW

“Kanada Taichi in Morioka, in June. Shimada Osamu in Yokohama, in August. Yamato Hiroshi in Nagoya, in September. These three died in similar circumstances. They were stabbed to death by a cursed spirit at the entrances to their apartments and all of them had filed the same complaint with the property managers several weeks before dying. They claimed their auto-locking doors were left wide open. None of the other residents have any idea what could have happened,” Nitta (your current driver) explained, causing you to open your eyes slowly, letting your drowsiness fade away slowly.

Currently, at this moment in time, you and your classmates were being driven to your desired destination to your current mission that all four of you were set causing you to wonder how much longer the drive was going to be, but also how you were going to cope with dealing with the whole ordeal since it had been a while since you had gone on a mission dealing with the unknown - last time was over two months ago at the detention centre where you had to face Sukuna (a special grade curse).

“None of the dates or locations match, though. Could the same cursed spirit have killed them all?” Fushiguro questioned as he stared down at the Ipad he had in his hands while trying to read all the information that was provided.

‘There is one location they all have in common though’ you thought, as you turned your head to stare out of the window, recalling the time where you had read the same information on your phone during breakfast with your adoptive father, Gojo Satoru.

“Hey, could the cursed spirit be responsible for the doors? Do sensors like those pick up cursed spirits? They don’t show up on camera and stuff, right?” Itadori began to ask an abundance of questions causing you to internally giggle as some of the questions he asked were basic knowledge for jujutsu sorcerers, but it was adorable for him to try to find a solution.

“Apparently, the cursed spirit made the door operators go crazy, not the sensors,” Nitta answered, leading you to give a side-eye to indicate that you were listening to her before going back to peer at the window to figure out a solution of your own about the current situation.

“Oh...Operators?” Itadori muttered in confusion as he tilted his head slightly to the side.

“And as for whether or not the same cursed spirit was behind this...Well, we couldn’t be certain from just the residuals. After all, a lot of time had already passed. So we tried to track down any connections between the three, we found that all three attended the same middle school for two years,” Nitta mentioned causing you to stiffen up slightly on the information given to you.

“Meaning all three received the same curse, and it activated after time had passed?” Kugisaki suggested with a thinking gesture causing Itadori to make a noise of impressiveness before leaning forward to view the female sorcerer.

“Precisely. That’s highly likely. So we’re going to that middle school now to question someone the three victims all knew, and I want you four to see what you can find as sorcerers,” Nitta answered leading you to sigh (to which she slyly notices) before you processed to close your eyes as if you were going to nap for a bit.

“Way to go, Kugisaki!” Itadori mentioned in astonishment leading the mentioned sorcerer to flick her hair back.

“Heh. What’d you expect?” Kugisaki questioned smugly.

However, without the attention of all three of you, Fushiguro seemed to be annoyed as he leaned his head back onto the chair seats before letting out a sigh of his own, wondering how he was going to handle this situation now.

                                              ꕥ

“A funeral?” Itadori questioned, as you processed to exit out of the car leading you to see a few people wearing all black, entering into a building before shutting the door quietly to not disturb the mourners that were attending the disheartening event.

“Is this the home of that acquaintance?” Kugisaki asked as she was also looking at the darkening event that was happening.

“Yes, it is…” NItta answered in a stutter leading everyone to get back in the car since there was no possible way, all of you could even interview someone properly during this time since it would be considered extremely rude.

                                              ꕥ

“Well, this sucks. He dies the same way the other three did. He lived with his family, so there was no auto-locking door, but he was killed in front of the entrance. Previously, upon returning home alone, he reported, “The door was unlocked, but it wouldn’t open,” to his family members,” Nitta explained, as you processed to scan through all the documents through your phone trying to obtain some sort of connection between all the victims rather than the middle school that they attended to.

‘Date of birth 1983-1984...that means they were in middle school at around 1995-1998...Yasohachi Bridge was popular back then, right?’

Suddenly, the car had come to a sudden halt causing you to look up from your phone, only to discover that you had arrived at the location that Nitta had discussed to everyone at the beginning leading you to look up that the building from the side of your window before slowly letting out a breath as you processed to open the car door to go and investigate with the others.

“I asked his parents, too, but they said they didn’t know what relationship he had with the other three. Man, there goes our only lead!” Nitta whined loudly, as everyone began to enter the school premises causing you to halt for a second before you continued to stroll behind them, trying to make sure your classmates didn’t notice your fidgeting behaviour.

“Don’t worry! There has to be something at this middle school!” Itadori reassured Nitta as she looked disappointed with her head hanging low.

“I sure hope so. For now, I’ve secured an appointment with a teacher, so I’m counting on you,” Nitta replied with a disheartened tone.

“Roger,” Itadori replied with a determined smile.

Suddenly, Kugisaki (who had her hands behind her head in the beginning) unexpectedly had a mischievous smile painted on her face before quickly running off to the side causing you to look at her with a raised eyebrow as you wondered what she was planning on doing.

“There’s some obvious punks, let’s beat’em up and set’em straight!” Kugisaki suggested causing you to walk up to her with your hand raised since she was going completely off-topic with what everyone was supposed to do currently.

“Why?” Itadori asked in a confused tone.

Slowly, the two punks that Kugisaki mentioned began to straightening up with menacing looks on their face, leading Itadori to lean forward to observe the two, only for them to suddenly straighten up more in sudden fear, causing you to be somewhat confused on why there was a sudden change in expression, only for your eyes to follow what they were looking at.

“I-It’s good to see you!” the pucks shouted while processing to bow 90 degrees with their heads lowered causing you to turn back to them with widened eyes at what was going on.

“Heh, look at that. You actually get it,” Kugisaki stated with a smug look on her face causing you to give her a fed-up look towards her direction while trying to figure out why Itadori was joining in her shenanigans.

“An aura just pours out, even if you try to hide it,” Itadori mentioned as he pushed his hair back leading you to ignore both of your classmates and you processed to look around the school trying to find some clues while noticing slight hints of cursed energy roaming around the premises.

“We haven’t seen you since graduation, Fushiguro-san!” one of the punks mentioned, causing the two smug sorcerers to drop their act before quickly turning around to see Fushiguro, who was now looking to the side in embarrassment.

“I...went here...for middle school,” Fushiguro announced before turning his back to face behind him to avoid his classmates, only for them to violently grab his face as they tried to make his turn to face them.

“That’s a surprise, too, but that’s not the point! Look at me!” Kugisaki angrily demanded, as she forcibly turned Fushiguro’s face to look at her with a struggle as Itadori had a hold of the shikigami sorcerer’s head to make it face him.

“What’d you do?! What did you do in middle school?! No, it would be quicker to ask them!” Itadori mentioned in a panic, as he was desperate to find an answer.

“Hey, Idiot A and Idiot B! What did this guy do to you?” Kugisaki yelled out her question, while still having a hold on Fushiguro’s face.

“We...Or rather, every delinquent, gang member, and so on in this area got beaten up by Fushiguro-san,” one of the punks answered, as both of them lifted their heads leading both Itadori and Kugisaki to let go of their friend’s face in shock before turning back to face him in confusion, looking for answers.

“I beat them up,” Fushiguro muttered as he turned his head back with his now messed up hair, leading Itadori and Kugisaki to grab his face again in complete surprise.

“Why do you keep talking so stiffly?! Look at me!” Kugisaki angrily asked as she painfully turned Fushiguro’s face to look at her.

“What are you doing?! Hey! What are you doing?!” Itadori asked in a panic, once again, as he now turned Fushiguro’s head to face him.

“Wow~ you beat up people Fushiguro, what a drag~” you commented with a hand over your mouth leading the erratic-haired sorcerer to look to you for help only for you to turn away to observe the school’s premises again, trying to gain something for the mission at hand.

“Hey!” someone shouted, causing both of the sorcerers to let go of Fushiguro’s face which led his hair to bounce a bit. Turning around to face the front, you noticed an old man with glasses running up towards you guys leading your eyes to widen once you had gotten a good look at who was coming towards everyone.

“Who are you? Students from other schools aren’t allowed in here!” the old man stated with a loud tone.

“And who the hell are you?!” Kugisaki yelled back in anger, causing you to smack the back of her head as if to tell her to ‘shut up’ which caused her to look up at you with a pout as she held her head to soothe the pain away.

“He’s clearly a staff member. Why are you so combative?” Itadori questioned in a low tone as he began to slouch.

“We have permission to be here,’ Nitta informed the staff member while processing to show the pass that she was carrying leading the old man to adjust his glasses as he peered at the pass she was currently holding.

“Oh, you’re the ones? You’re all young, you need to hang your pass around your neck,” the old man mentioned as began to observe the group of students behind her before his eyes widened once they handed on a certain someone. 

“Fushiguro-kun?” 

“Hello,” Fushiguro greeted, as he looked to the side with a small blush beginning to appear on his face.

“He remembers you!” Itadori and Kugisaki mentioned in a teasing tone as they looked at their classmate with an amused look.

“So this man’s been here a long time?” NItta asked with a cheerful tone, leading you to conclude that she probably had gained hope for a new lead on the mission that was happening right now.

“Probably, Takeda-san’s a permanent employee,” Fushiguro answered in a monotone voice.

“Then I leave the rest to you!” Nitta concluded, to which she held a thumbs up as if it was some sort of encouragement.

‘Abandoning her duty....’ Fushiguro thought, before shifting his eyes towards you as he realised that you had become quiet again, only to discover that you were looking at Takeda with some sort of fondness in your eyes as a small but noticeable smile appeared on your face.

‘It’s been a while, hasn’t it Takeda-san? How are you? You’ve been okay? I wish I could ask you this..but...it’s for the best that I didn’t at all huh?’ you thought before turning your head to look at the windows beside you, only to realise that the same hint of cursed energy was still lingering around.

‘I’m surprised it remains here…’ you mentioned internally before turning back to look at the staff member in front of you.

                                            ꕥ

“Kanada, Shimada, Yamato...and Morishita, huh? I was shocked by their passing, but I guess it’s been nearly twenty years since they graduated, I remember it like it was yesterday. They were problem children in their own right, though not as bad as you. What do you want to know?” Takeda mentioned with a soft smile causing you to scoff a bit at his comment as you covered your mouth to hold your laugh but to Fushiguro’s annoyance.

“Strange rumours, dark rumours, connections to bad adults…” Fushiguro listed as he raised his arm, leading you to look at him weirdly since it wasn’t the arm towards your side he had lifted.

“Hey, problem child!” Itadori and Kugisaki chanted in a teasing tone.

“...and anything of ill omen,” Fushiguro concluded before closing his hand into a fist as he proceeded to swing it down to punch the top of Itadori’s head.

“Dark rumours? They may have been problem children, but they never went beyond average middle school stuff. But wait...ill omen?” Takeda muttered as he began to think.

“Do you mean that tale? About the Yasohachi Bridge bungee jumping?” one of the punks questioned, causing you to look to the side in interest since you had an idea about the bridge before you had arrived at the middle school.

“You’re still here, A and B?” Kugisaki asked since she was surprised that they remained where they were.

“Yasohachi Bridge?” Itadori questioned.

“A notorious suicide spot, it’s well known in this area as a haunted location,” you answered in a casual tone before explaining why it was such an important detail to note for your pink-haired classmate.

“Oh, that’s right! Back then, it was all the rage among delinquents to bungee jump off Yasohachi Bridge late at night, it was one of those tests of courage,” Takeda explained, once he remembered what he was trying to think of.

“What a weird tribe,” Kugisaki muttered in annoyance.

“What a drag,” you mentioned in a fed-up tone.

“I’m surprised there are people dumber than me!” Itadori stated.

“What do you use for a cord?” Fushiguro questioned as he was trying to wonder how the people bungee jumped in the first place.

“We don’t do it, I just heard some students from our parents’ generation talking about it,” the punk mentioned causing you to nod your head slowly, conveying that you understood what he meant.

“One day, Kanada and the other three were absent without permission. That wasn’t all that usual by itself, but when we contacted their families, we learned that those four hadn’t come home the day before. It caused a pretty big stir, then they were found unconscious under the bridge. They got chewed out good, but all four swore up and down they didn’t remember a thing,” Takeda explained, causing all the first years to come to the same conclusion in their heads.

                                             ꕥ

“I think that’s it,” Nitta suggested as she looked at all four of you.

“I’ve been to Yasohachi Bridge, too,” Fushiguro mentioned in a serious tone.

“To bungee jump?” Itadori asked comedically, leading Fushiguro to swiftly smash a fist on the top of his head in annoyance causing Itadori to wince in pain as he held his head with a pout.

“It’s easy for curses to take root in haunted locations, just like in schools, so people from Jujutsu High regularly patrol it,” Fushiguro explained causing you to recall the times where you would walk around the area late at night while trying to hide from the sorcerers that came from time to time back a few years ago.

“There wasn’t anything unusual at the time, though. It might be a bit famous, but it’s still used as a normal bridge,” Fushiguro mentioned.

“We still have to go check it out, though,” Kugisaki suggested, causing you to agree with her since it was the best for all the four of you to survey the bridge yourselves.

“Fushiguro-kun?” someone called out, causing everyone to turn to find Takeda coming towards everyone’s way.

“Sorry, I was curious about something,” Takeda mentioned causing Fushiguro to fully turn around to face the old man.

“What is it?” Fushiguro asked.

“Tsukimi-kun took awfully good care of you when you were in school. Is she doing well?” the old man asked, causing you to stiffen up slightly before shifting your eyes to the side since you were getting nervous at the fact the staff member was remembering everyone little by little.

“Yes,” Fushiguro answered with a deadpan expression.

“Who’s Tsumiki?” Itadori asked the shikigami user in curiosity.

“My older sister,” Fushiguro answered in a low tone, leading Kugisaki to grab his shoulder in surprise once again.

“What?! You tell us too little about yourself!” Kugisaki mentioned in an annoyed tone leading Itadori to agree with her, leading the old man to tilt his head slightly to the side - to avoid the blockage of Itadori’s body - to discover you making your way to the side of the car, where you were sitting before.

“Excuse me, I also wanted to ask you something if you don’t mind,” Takeda asked in a kind tone, causing you to halt your movements before looking up to find the old man gifting you with a sweet smile that you remembered so much causing you to turn back and make your way towards the staff-member with lessening the tension that you had before walking away.

“Yeah, it’s fine, what is it you want to ask me?” you questioned with a light tone, trying to sound polite to the man, causing him to smile at you.

“Do I remember you from anywhere, you seem quite familiar to me?” Takeda asked, causing your eyes to widen in fear before quickly blinking away the sudden change in emotion you were surprisingly expressing so easily.

“I never been to Saitama Urami East Junior High before, I’m sorry but I don’t think I’m the person you are trying to recall,” you answered with a sad soft smile leading the man to sigh before fixing his glasses.

“Is that so? I���m sorry, the minute I saw you, I began to recall a student that would always help me around from time to time and she was always on top of her work, but she left around the second year before I got to thank her,” the old man began to reminisce, not noticing the stiffness of your body as well as the panic rising within your heart leading it to beat faster than it should.

‘He’s remembering too much, but didn’t I put enough cursed energy into that spell? It should have wiped everything from his memory’

“Sorry, but could you look at my left eye for a second? I think I got an eyelash stuck there,” you quickly asked, causing the old man to agree to help you as he adjusted his glasses once again before taking a good look at your eye.

‘It could cast it now, but the others are here...I could just not use the spell to its full potential and that couldn’t cause him to faint, maybe that will work,’ you quickly thought as you were slowly transferring a small amount of your cursed energy to your left eye.

“Haku-” you muttered under your breath before coming to a sudden halt, causing your cursed energy to wavy slightly as it began to slowly move away from your eye leading you to conclude that you didn’t even have the guts to commit to the action that you were planning to go on with like you did two years ago, to which caused your heart to become extremely heavy with guilty as you knew once he entered back into the school, the lingering cursed energy that you had left in the school would cause his memory to fade away, processing you to let go of your sudden plan as the staff-member mentioned that there was nothing to worry about.

‘Nothing to worry about huh?’

“Thank you so much,” you softly said with gratitude before giving the old man a final wave goodbye before entering the car with the rest of your classmates, wondering if it was still for the best that you let him free with his memory gradually coming back to life.

[kingwuko]

Wuko in the comics

Welcome to my first post discussing Wuko in the LoK comic books!

This first post will be discussing Turf Wars- which unfortunately does not feature Wu. But there are lots of excellent Mako moments, and there are some major plot points that carry over into the next comic trilogy.

Turf Wars is the first LoK comic trilogy released after the finale. Though it was released two and half years after the finale aired, it picks up right where we left off. While the creators confirmed after the finale aired that Korrasami was canon, the last moments of the animated series were a little ambiguous (on purpose, since this was a time when queer representation was just not considered "acceptable" in children's media-it was truly the only way they could get away with it). The comics definitively remove all ambiguity. Turf Wars features multiple frames of Korra and Asami kissing, holding hands, and coming out to their friends and family. 

The overarching plot of Turf Wars is a conflict over the land upon which the new spirit portal sets. There is also conflict between rival Triad gangs, the Triple Threats and the Creeping Crystals, over turf in Republic City following the chaos of Kuvira's invasion. These two sets of turf wars overlap when a business tycoon hires the Triple Threats to secure the spirit portal for him by driving others off. The new Leader of the Triple Threats, Tokuga, is attacked by a spirit defending the portal, causing him to gain a dragon-like appearance and a new agenda-seizing control of all Republic City. In the midst of all this there is a refugee crisis, a presidential election, and Korra and Asami trying to navigate their new relationship once they return to the real world with all their responsibilities.

Notable plot points and character developments:

Korra and Asami canon is confirmed (repeatedly)-They come out to family and their friends

Business owner Wonyong Keum, who owns the land upon which the new portal sits, demands everyone vacate so he can turn it into a tourist attraction for profit-prompting Korra to enter the Avatar state to temporarily drive him away.

An unhappy spirit requests Korra closes the portal to prevent exploitation of the spirit world.

Bolin joins Mako as his rookie detective partner.

Zhu Li is running efforts to care for refugees who lost their homes during Kuvira’s attack and teams up with Asami to begin rebuilding homes for everyone displaced.

Tokuga is introduced as the leader of the Triple Threats, fighting for control of the streets with Jargala, the leader of the Creeping Crystals.

Kya reveals she is queer and gives us a history lesson on the context of LGBTQ+ history in the world.

Tokuga is attacked by the afore-mentioned spirit and his right arm and half his face become dragon-esque.

Raiko is a colossal idiot. He is way too focused on getting reelected and making his decisions based on what his campaign advisor suggests, rather than just, you know, governing his city. He calls the military to occupy the portal, prompting the Airbenders to peacefully protest.

Zhu Li runs against Raiko for the presidency. She rallies more protesters to protect the spirit portal while her husband films her for his newest project- a “docu-mover” which he presumably uses to influence the election. 

Asami and Keum are kidnapped by Tokuga and forced to make a poison gas device bring the city under Tokuga’s control.

The Krew manages to save the day of course, thanks to Asami’s wit, Korra’s unstoppable stubbornness, and back-up from Bolin and Mako. Except Mako, bless him, says he’ll “take care of Tokuga”, and then promptly loses him.

Tokuga mysteriously disappears into the spirit world.

Zhu Li wins the presidency.

Korra and Asami share a lovely, romantic moment where they exchange their first “I love you”s at the conclusion of the comic.

Mako scenes

There is no Wu in the Turf Wars comics (Unless you count one line of dialogue where it is mentioned that the Earth Kingdom is sending supplies to help the refugee situation) - however, there is plenty of Mako! Mako’s primary role in this series is as a detective trying to find and stop the Triads from waging their turf war in the city.

Our first scenes with Mako shows him back to being a detective- and his brother is his partner. He doesn’t seem super thrilled to be working with Bolin, but I think it’s just because he knows how his brother is- not that he doesn’t want to spend time with him. They are trying to track down the new leader of the triple threats and control gang activity. Mako’s arm is still in a sling, he’s got his usual brooding grumpy facial expression, and his hair is spiky again! He and Bolin arrest two-toed Ping and try to interrogate him. Two-toed Ping is weirdly proud of Mako and Bolin for rising up from being “nobodies” to a couple of “bigtime cops”.

They catch up with Korra and Asami, and the four of them are alerted by Jinora that the Triple threats are attacking the Airbenders that were meditating at the portal. Asami gets hurt in the battle and she and Korra share a kiss in front of everyone:

Look at Opal’s sweet face. She looks like she’s barely containing her excitement and is maybe squealing a bit, and she’s looking directly at Bolin which I think is a sweet moment to show their relationship. Bolin calls dibs on the first double date.

Mako probably needs time to process the information....

Mako and Bolin do some detective work to try and find Tokuga. There is an interesting scene where they are questioning Scoochy (We saw him in the first season, he’s the kid that told Korra and Mako the Bolin went to do some work for the triple threats before getting captured by equalists) Bolin tells Mako they should do “good cop, bad cop”, with Bolin being the good cop. Mako gets annoyed, and Bolin asks if he’s grumpy because his exes are dating. Mako insists he’s cool with it- though he’s got a distressed look on his face. They catch up to Scoochy and Bolin actually loses his temper and is rather menacing. Mako pulls Bolin back and genuinely connects with Scoochy- relating to his past, pushing him to do the right thing and help others. I really liked this moment because it shows how much character growth he’s had when you compare the way he treated Kai in season 3. (They are ultimately unsuccessful and Scoochy’s tip leads them to a room rigged with explosives- but I don’t think Scoochy knew that, I think he was fed false info).

There’s another touching scene, after Asami is kidnapped, where Mako notices how upset Korra seems as everyone is trying to form a plan to stop Tokuga. He steps aside to check in and see how she’s feeling. He comforts her’ empathizes with her, and reassures her that they are going to find Asami. At this point he seems to have fully processed that they are together and seems to fully accept it and is very supportive. Not easy considering the awkward position he’s in as both their exes. In this scene, Mako also informs Korra that he can’t firebend with his injured arm.

Mako and Bolin helps Korra to find Asami by requesting help from Jargala- in spite of the fact that Chief Beifong told them not to… They show up for Korra and Asami even if it means risking their jobs. They team up and fight the bad guys together, just like the old days.

We see many examples of how bad the damage is from Mako’s injury in the Colossus. He can’t bend with his left arm, it’s in a sling almost the whole comic, and he really doesn’t seem to be at the top of his game. He told Bolin he would take care of catching Tokuga, but apparently couldn’t and lost him. Mako’s injury is pretty bad and it’s probably really frustrating.

At the end, Bolin decides to quit the force (surprise. The guy loves to hop from calling to calling!). He makes a big dramatic speech to Mako, talking about how it’s time they go their separate ways. Mako is like “Um I’m going to see you at home in like two hours”, so it sounds like they are living together.

What all this might mean for Wuko

So now I’m going to try to tie things back into how all this affects the potential of Wuko- whether that’s for headcanons or fics or whatever- and just try to give you an idea of what this comic means for Wuko shippers.

Wu is governing in the Earth Kingdom right now. It is mentioned by Zhu Li that the Earth Kingdom sent supplies, so one can assume Wu has taken his place on the throne and the Earth Kingdom is in a stable enough position to be sending supplies to aid another nation. Nothing is mentioned about efforts to transform the Earth Kingdom into a democratic nation (we’ll get to that in the Ruins of the Empire comics).

Mako’s primary relationships that are explored are with his brother and with Korra. His relationship with Bolin is just as it always is. He loves his brother even if he is a little exhausted by his upbeat, enthusiastic attitude. We build up on his final interaction with Korra from the animated series and continue to firmly establish them as friends and amicable exes. Interestingly, we don’t get any meaningful Mako and Asami interactions. When he is comforting Korra, he relates to her by remembering how worried he was when Korra was kidnapped by Amon. He doesn't try to say “Yeah I’m really worried about Asami too”, which, to me is bizarre because he and Asami are friends too, right? I don’t know if we should read too much into it though- most likely it was just a writing choice that we aren’t meant to psycho-analyze- but it could also mean he is being careful with his words so that Korra doesn’t wonder if he still has feelings for Asami. The love triangle is completely resolved and Mako is out of the picture romantically with either of them and has no lingering romantic feelings. In other words, he is 100% ready available for a relationship with someone else.

The scene where Kya gives us a history lesson establishes how LGBTQ+ people are viewed in the world of LoK. In short, Korra and Asami are fully supported by their friends and family, and even their enemies acknowledge their relationship without any homophobic tones. The closest we get to homophobia is Korra's father, who, after expressing his happiness at their relationship, warns Korra to be cautious going forward because not everyone will be as understanding. Kya gives us a quick lesson on how same-gender relationships are viewed across the nations: The water tribe, being a patriarchal culture, expects discretion. The Earth Kingdom is not particularly accepting-Kya says that Avatar Kyoshi was bisexual but couldn't affect "real change" and that the earth kingdom is the slowest to accept change and is also militarily repressive (full disclosure I have not read the Kyoshi comics, maybe there is additional insight in those?). And in the fire nation, Sozin made same-gender relationships illegal when he took power (I hope Zuko undid all that when he became Firelord). The air nation is the only one that seems truly accepting-Kya paints a picture of total acceptance and says that Aang was supportive when she herself came out. Korra is worried that maybe her father was right, but Asami points out that a lot has changed over the years and everyone seems accepting, especially in Republic City. 

I think what we can take away from this as far as Wuko goes- is that in Republic City, same-gender relationships are not much of an issue, while in the Earth Kingdom it could be viewed negatively. One could make a case that Wu might have cause to be closeted, while Mako might not. (Feel free to reject this history canon and substitute your own. I’d just as soon say that no one in the avatar-verse cares if you aren’t cis or het).

In conclusion. Mako is just a guy trying very hard to be a good, supportive friend to his exes who are now dating each other. He loves them (platonically) he loves his brother, he’s kind and has matured a lot, but he still always has a grumpy look on his face so it’s time for him to move on and get together with Wu.

Well, that’s Turf Wars. I did cram the plot of three comic books into one post, so I certainly did not hit all the details. If you feel I missed something crucial, feel free to reblog with your own takes. Next I’ll discuss Ruins of the Empire, in which we get lots of Wu and potential Wuko moments, a sizable helping of angst and even some Wu & Korra friendship! RotE is a really fun comic trilogy and I’ll be breaking it down into multiple posts. Thanks for reading everyone!

Wuko In RotE part 1

Wuko in RotE part 2

[fangirlextraordinaire]

His Girl

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: could be read as a crack fic (maybe?)

Word count: 640

Written for @star-spangled-bingo's SSB SPRING FLASH 2021 Bingo (square: Taken Captive)

Everyone knows that Steve will always go to bat for those he cares about and Odin help whoever gets in his way.  Apparently, these leftover Hydra idiots didn't get that memo when they decided to grab you from your apartment one night.

You could tell these were definitely the lower-level types that never saw any real action. They did the usual chloroform rag but it wasn't enough to knock you out so you just felt like you were having really lucid dreams. Then, they used their real voices and didn't cover their faces. I mean, did they fail Bad Guy 101 or what? The cherry on top was the "ransom call" to Steve. Did these geniuses use a burner phone? Oh no, no, no. It was a phone that one of the guys shares with his mom. No location scrambler, no voice decoder, not even *67. The chloroform was mostly out of your system by now so you got to absorb these dumb-dumbs in their natural habitat, trying to sound menacing when you could see the hand holding the phone was shaking.

"Cap, we have your girl. If you ever want to see her again, give us $10 million dollars in the next 2 hours."

You couldn't help but to toy with them and to keep Steve on the line long enough to track your location. "Hey fellas, why not make it $20? You know Stark has the money." You could see them all nodding like The Three Stooges.

"Cap, make it 20 instead! Place the money in green duffel bags outside of the former SHIELD Headquarters." These geniuses only took you 6 blocks away? My God, were they in for it!

Steve was seething! How dare anyone think of laying a hand on you? He knew you could hold your own in a fight but no one messed with Steve’s loved ones! He stormed towards the common area to round up backup (not that he really needed it with how pissed off he was).

By now, you'd made your way out of the flimsy handcuffs but just needed to stay put for a big longer.  "I think that went well, guys. Steve is very serious about his loved ones so I have no doubt that he'll be here. Say, do you have anything to drink around here? You guys took me before I could grab my before-bed drink."

Just as one of them returned with a bottle of water, a huge hole was below in the wall opposite you.  As the dust settled, you saw those oh-so-comforting stars & stripes along with a deadly spider and a birdman who was not to be toyed with. Nat gave you a smirk as she could tell from your posture that you’d escaped from the handcuffs.

Steve noticed your slight movements and while he, Nat, & Sam distracted the kidnappers, you swiped the legs out from under the one closest to you.  As he went down, he grabbed another who hit his head on the table going down.  The 3rd one tried to run away and ran straight in the wall instead.  If these guys hadn't (clumsily) kidnapped you, he'd almost feel sorry for them.

Nat & Sam rounded up the baddies so that you two could have a moment together. Steve gave a once over to make sure you didn't have any injuries.

"Babe, I'm fine! If anything, you should be checking up on those bozos.  I'm slightly offended that I had a boring kidnapping. The movies make it seem way more exciting than this."

Steve just shook his hand and smiled as the 4 of you walked back to the Quinjet with your prisoners in tow.  He would always worry about you being a potential target but you proved that you could hold your own so maybe he could worry a little less.

[mandelene]

Could you write child/teenager Alfred having a high fever and collapsing suddenly and Arthur just freaking out?

Thank you so much, i love your work ;)

Thank you! 💕😭 And I hope you like it!

Being a Doctor Is Hard -- Being a Parent Is Harder

Word count: 1089

He’s taking a sick day, but not for himself, for Alfred.

He called out of work to take care of him because the poor boy has been running a fever for two days now and has been crying endlessly for Arthur to stay by his side. It was getting to a point where Francis was becoming overwhelmed by the constant wailing, and so, Arthur decided it was time to take the reins and give his husband a break. Thus, Francis went to work at the bistro this morning, and Matthew is at school.

Meanwhile, Arthur has a very cranky four-year-old on his hands who doesn’t want to take his medicine or accept any of his medical advice, which frankly, is a little insulting. Patients’ insurance companies pay him hundreds of dollars for his advice, and here he is giving it to his son for free and he doesn’t even want it. Typical. Pre-schoolers are a ruthless bunch.

How many times must he do airplane or “choo-choo" train sounds before Alfred finally surrenders and takes the children’s Tylenol he meticulously prepared for him in a medicine dropper?

“You’re not going to feel better if you don’t take your medicine, Alfred.”

“Noooo!”

While the boy has his mouth open to protest, Arthur slips the medicine dropper between his lips and forces the medicine down. He didn’t want to have to do things this way, but he’s been left with no choice. Fortunately, Alfred swallows it and doesn’t spit it out, but he still cries once it’s over and done with, complaining about the taste.

“Here, love. Have some apple juice,” Arthur says, handing him his sippy cup. “Better?”

Alfred tearfully nods and sniffles.

“It’ll be all better soon,” Arthur promises. He kisses his warm brow and tucks him in. “The virus just has to run its course.”

“I wanna play outside.”

“You have a high fever and need to stay in bed and rest for now.”

“No!”

“Yes,” Arthur insists, petting his head. “When you’re healthy again, you can play outside. Right now, you’re going to take a nap.”

“No, I don’t wanna nap!” Alfred screeches, kicking his covers away and jumping out of bed, ready to throw another tantrum.

“Alfred, get back into bed!”

“No!”

He takes a deep breath and wills himself to stay calm yet firm. He bends down in an attempt to scoop the boy into his arms and place him back in bed, but Alfred dashes away from him and makes a run for it. What is with him today? Alfred has never been a good patient, but he’s never been this intent on being a menace either. He’s clearly not well, so where is he getting this energy from?

“Alfred! Sick children with fevers do not run around the house!” he shouts, exasperated. He chases after him, and Alfred makes it all the way downstairs to the living room before he stops in his tracks. At first, Arthur thinks he’s finally worn himself out and will start cooperating, but…not quite.

The color drains from Alfred’s face and his knees suddenly buckle. Arthur sweeps forward immediately and breaks his fall before he can get hurt. He lifts him up and into his arms, and for a split second, Arthur is paralyzed from shock. He has seen many patients, young and old, faint before, but seeing one’s own child faint isn’t the same.

But then, his brain switches from Dad-mode to doctor-mode. He carries Alfred over to the couch and lays him down. He has already regained consciousness, so it was a brief fainting spell, but that doesn’t make Arthur worry any less.

“Knees up to your chest,” Arthur directs him, moving his legs. “Stay still.”

Alfred, frightened by everything that has just transpired, takes this as an opportunity to start crying again.

“Shhh, shhh. Don’t cry. It’s all right. I’m right here—you’re okay,” Arthur says, trying to reassure himself as well. He leaves Alfred for just a moment to grab his bag with his medical supplies and to fill another sippy cup with juice.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Shhh, shhh,” Arthur coos before placing a thermometer under Alfred’s tongue and wrapping a blood pressure cuff around his arm. “Shhh, shhh.”

Alfred’s sobbing settles a little, and Arthur is relieved when he checks the boy’s blood pressure twice and sees that it’s going back up. Likewise, his temperature is beginning to go down after the fever reducer he gave him.

But what if the fainting spell is a sign of something more serious going on? Should he take Alfred to the emergency room? EKG, bloodwork, and urinalysis?

Just as he’s seriously considering bundling the child up and rushing him to the hospital, Alfred sits up, takes a big gulp of the orange juice in his sippy cup, and says, “Daddy, I’m sowwy fo’ wunning in the house. I wanna watch a movie.”

“B-But how are you feeling? Are you feeling better? You just fainted, Alfred.”

“I wanna watch a movie.”

Oh, God help him. What’s the protocol in this situation? Most fainting spells are harmless and not indicative of a more serious illness, but that was terrifying and he never wants to experience that again!

Okay, he’s going to keep an eye on him and take him to the hospital if it happens again or he gets dizzy. And he’ll call the boys’ pediatrician and ask if he can bring Alfred in tomorrow. He needs to hear from another doctor that his child isn’t going to spontaneously go into cardiac arrest on his watch. It’ll give him peace of mind.

“All right, we can watch a movie. I’ll bring you a blanket and more pillows so you can rest on the couch.”

“Okay.”

Arthur hugs Alfred tightly, and it makes him feel a little calmer. After he calls the pediatrician’s office, he snuggles with Alfred on the couch, and he swears he’s not going to let the boy out of his sight until he’s well again.

And when they go to the pediatrician’s office the following day, and Arthur feels like an idiot because the pediatrician confirms that Alfred is going to be fine, he realizes he may have overreacted.

He expects Alfred to hold a temporary grudge against him for putting him through an extra doctor’s visit, but once Alfred gets a lollipop and his Spiderman sticker, he doesn’t seem to care one way or the other and forgives and forgets very quickly.

Maybe pre-schoolers aren’t as ruthless of a bunch as they seem after all.

[emilia3546]

Shadowsinger Part 22 - Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter*

Masterlist with all previous chapters

TW: Mentions of past SA

*****

Gwyn smiled softly at the female who showed her around, both dropping their gazes when a group of males turned the corner, and Gwyn fought the urge to squirm under their prolonged gaze,

"You alright?" Shit, she must have noticed,

"Yes. Fine, I just wish they wouldn't stare too long,"

"Take it as a compliment, it's the only way to really ignore them,"

"Oh, it's not that," it totally was that, but she wasn't going to admit it, that would open other conversations that she didn't want to have, maybe with Nesta and Emerie, maybe with Azriel, but not someone she just met, "It's my husband," she lied. "He doesn't like when other males look to long, I'd hate someone to get hurt."

"Oh. Fair enough." She fell into silence, a hint of sadness crossing her features for a moment, but she hid it away too quickly for Gwyn to figure her out, shaking her head and smiling again quickly, "Since you're not a seamstress, we'll get you to help with collecting laundry for now, Cauldron knows there's a lot now," Gwyn chuckled despite herself,

"That's the thing with armies isn't it, they do make a mess,"

"They do, especially these young boys, they have no idea that their shit gets tidied up by someone, not just magic," Gwyn chuckled again, but she didn't miss the flash of fear, undisguisable this time, "Please don't repeat that."

"Never," Gwyn promised, "You can speak freely around me,"

"No." The other female whispered, "I can't. Even if you don't tell my brother, someone else might hear, the walls are thin here, but thank you." She offered Gwyn a smile before slipping away, and Gwyn made to call after her, but had no idea what to say, she didn't even know her name. Perhaps she was used to people not bothering to learn it. Gwyn made a silent promise to herself to learn every female's name here before they left. She sighed, finding her way down the corridor, and knocked on the first door, hoping that the room's occupant would be gone, and she could just grab the laundry and run,

"Hello," the door swung open, and Gwyn stepped back, "To what do I owe the pleasure," the male ran his gaze up and down Gwyn's body, then tugged her chin up, holding on when she tried to pull away, "Don't be rude," he chastised, and Gwyn trembled, her fear not completely an act, "Come to keep me warm, huh?" she'd never be able to go for her dagger quickly enough if he decided to try anything. She blinked back the tears welling in her eyes, she could still take him down, all she needed to do was break his hold, she could easily manage that, a quick punch to his elbow joint, then she'd duck under his arm, throw a punch to the nose, a knee to the groin, she'd be gone before he knew what had happened. With a plan in her head she squashed down that fear, she wasn't helpless anymore, Azriel would have never let her do this, never brought her if he didn't think she could throw down with every male here and win. And she could win, she didn't need her dagger, she just needed to be quicker than him. She swallowed when the male tugged her face from side to side,

"Let go, please," she said, wriggling, but he only tightened his hold, ignoring her request, and ran his gaze along her body again, the entitlement in that gaze making her see red, but she held her tongue, she had to try and get out of this without drawing attention first, if that failed, then she'd break his balls.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing here?"

"My husband sent me to help the others with laundry, sir," she muttered, hating every word, but placed enough emphasis on her husband that the male let go,

"Why are the good ones always married?" He muttered angrily, "Go on then," she slipped past him, half-surprised that he'd let her go, although it was probably more for his own skin than hers, after all, if he'd tried anything more, Azriel would be forced to demand a duel. Not that she worried for Azriel, none of the males here would last a minute, but it would draw attention, attention they did not need. She subtly glanced around the room, nothing of note, she wouldn't bother searching here.

She nodded to the male as she slipped back out past him, her heart still hammering against her chest. She only relaxed once she heard the door close, the male's gaze no longer boring into the back of her head, and knocked on the next one, finding it empty, but with a pile of laundry to be collected, and nothing helpful upon a quick sweep of the room. The next few rooms were similarly useless, a few having occupants, one female, left there by her father, who didn't trust her not to 'do something dumb', in other words, run off. She seemed so bored and lonely that Gwyn did wait with her for a few minutes, offering much need conversation, her name was Laylah, she was from Ironcrest, and she was twenty, unmarried, and hated being here. Gwyn offered her own, fake, name, and explained what she was doing, suggesting that she ask her father if she could help, saying that she might well be able to simply help with clothing repair. Laylah grinned at that and agreed, waving as Gwyn left. The next two rooms each had a single male occupant, one simply waved her in, paying her no attention, the other stared a bit, but left her alone, it seemed the fake wedding band was doing it's job, mostly.

The final door on that corridor did not lead to a bedchamber, nor was there any laundry to collect, but it was interesting, an office of some sort. She slipped inside, closing the door behind her, with the bag of laundry leaning against it, there was an open window, if it came to it, she could jump out and be hidden beneath the ledge before anyone could see her. This didn't seem too important, but Gwyn rifled through the drawers, ignoring most things, but a letter caught her eye, one between the late Queen Briallyn, and someone who seemed to be a general. The letter was encoded somehow, and Gwyn didn't know enough to be able to decipher it, she glanced around the room, finding a blank piece of paper, and copied down the letter, rolling up the copy and slipping it into the bodice of her gown before setting everything back to rights, there was no trace she'd been in there when she left.

The corridor was, thankfully, empty when Gwyn re-emerged, quickly running back to deposit the laundry and continue collecting the rest of it. Most rooms she visited that day were just as useless as the first few, but there were some that she mentally marked to come back to, either when they were empty, or she had more time, or fewer eyes on her. She lost track of the time, running to get back to their room before that evening's training finished, she was expected to be there waiting, and if she wasn't there, someone would guess something was up.

The hallways were empty as she flew along them, slowing to a brisk walk when she heard voices at the end of their corridor,

"She not there?" Shit. Azriel would have to berate her now, in front of those others, whether they were the same as before or not, she'd hoped not to force him to do that,

"Amirah! where have you been?" Gwyn almost flinched at the accusatory tone, it's not real. It's not real.

"I-"

"You know what, I don't care," she leapt forwards, towards making Azriel's comforting hand on her lower back look like a shove, but relaxed, it wasn't a big deal then, "Get in there," she ran inside, hiding in the corner until the voice faded and Azriel shut the door, "You okay? Something happen?"

"Not really, just an idiot, I lost track of time, I should have gotten back earlier, I hate to put you in a difficult position."

"Nah, you didn't, you just solidified their belief in us, letting me 'scare' you inside,"

"Like you could scare me," she scoffed, "You're a soppy baby at heart, Shadowsinger,"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm the one who does the protecting around here." Azriel laughed again,

"Whatever would I do without my beautiful little Valkyrie?"

"Die, probably," Gwyn muttered, wrinkling her nose up when Azriel leaned down to kiss her cheek, "Oi, go away, I'm trying to concentrate,"

"So, I'm distracting?"

"I think you know the answer to that," she rolled her eyes, "Listen now, I found something," all jokes died at those words,

"Show me,"

"A letter, from Briallyn to a general, I think. It's in code, I don't know how to decrypt it, I'm hoping you will."

"Let me see," Azriel leaned back in his chair and pursed his lips as he studied the letter, "It's an old code, one I haven't seen in a while, I don't remember it all, but, hang on a minute, you got a pencil?" Gwyn silently handed one over, rather inappropriately smiling at the way his hair fell over his forehead when he leaned forwards to note down the encryption he remembered. "Are you staring at me, Gwyn?"

"What can I say, you're quite useful as my eye candy," he snorted in disbelief, but silently shook his head,

"You're a menace, Berdara,"

"You can thank Nesta for that," she grinned, standing to cross the room, leaning over him, an elbow resting on his shoulder as he noted down the last few words he'd been able to decipher.

"Not groundbreaking, I'm afraid, but we do know that they're planning something. She mentioned a winged army, the Illyrians I think, so whatever the big plan is, it's been in the works a while,"

"Mhhhm, here, does that name ring any bells?"

"Don't think so, why?"

"I met a female with that name today, maybe it means nothing, but, any ideas about the words around it?" Azriel frowned back at the letter,

"Something about her father, what did you find out about her?"

"She's from Ironcrest, unmarried, lives alone with her father, who doesn't really trust her, she's restless, wants to explore the world, it seemed like her father's looking for ways to tie her down. She's still unclipped, thank the Cauldron, but she wanted to escape a bit I think, does it say anything about her role, or just that she exists?"

"Hang on," he started writing out what seemed to be a sort of dodgy alphabet, cross referencing to the letter, "You got your notes on the queens?"

"Yeah?"

"Who's married?"

"None, one is widowed, with a son."

"They want to marry Laylah to that boy."

"But she's immortal!"

"I don't think they care. She's the Camp Lord's daughter," she hadn't mentioned that earlier, "The male's a monster, he'll see this as a way to build an alliance,"

"By selling his daughter into marriage with a human, whose people hate all fae?"

"Yes. She's not a person in his eyes, just something he can use to improve his standing, to bring him closer to ruling all of Illyria, not just Ironcrest, he's never kept his ambitions secret,"

"Why am I only just hearing about this now?"

"Because I didn't think it was relevant, I hadn't even considered that it might be a part of his motivations for leaving, but if we're right," he trailed off, "Shit." he finished, "If we're right, we'll have to take her with us when we leave, can you get close to her again? Subtly try and see if she's loyal to the Night Court or not?"

"Yeah, that should be fine, but what if I can't get to her?"

"Just try, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it." She sighed and stepped back when Azriel pushed his chair out, tugging her into his lap. She sighed again and looped her arms around his neck, leaning into him as she closed her eyes. "You said there was an idiot earlier?"

"He, um, it doesn't matter,"

"Yes, it does," Azriel pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his thumb stroking up and down her ribcage, "It's clearly upset you, whatever it is, talk to me, please,"

"The great Spymaster begging, not something I expected," she laughed,

"Stop deflecting, if you don't want to talk, that's fine, but I'm worried about you, okay? You're alone out there, and someone upset you, I'd like to help if I can,"

"Az, really, it's okay, it was just one of the males making a few comments, and he just made me uncomfortable,"

"Just some comments?"

"And, um, he grabbed my face," she quieted when he stilled, going dangerously quiet, "He let go, Az,"

"Before or after you mentioned your 'husband'?" Oh shit, she couldn't lie, he'd know, and she didn't want him to think she didn't trust him, she did, but she didn't want him upset, she didn't want him to do something stupid,

"After," she whispered, turning in his lap to cup his face at the shuddering breath he drew in, "It's okay, he didn't hurt me, and he let me go, I'm fine, it's not worth it,"

"He scared you." Not a question, but Gwyn answered anyway,

"Yes." She looked away, afraid to see the disappointment that she couldn't defend herself against one male,

"Who was it?" Gwyn shook her head, "Who, Gwyn?" He softened his voice, but the threat was no less clear,

"I'm not telling you, you'll kill him, and draw attention, and bust our cover,"

"I don't care,"

"You don't care? I care, we're here for a reason, are you hearing yourself right now?" She demanded, glaring at him, but relented slightly at the fear in his eyes beneath the layers of anger, he was worried about her, and that was allowed, but she couldn't let him jeopardize their mission for her.

*****

Gwyn was right, he wasn't thinking straight, but all he wanted was to find that male, whoever he was, and tear him apart with his bare hands. This male who'd thought to put his hands on the female he loved, the female who'd time and again proven that she was the strongest person he knew. He would kill everyone in this damn palace if he had to, but he had to know who it was, at least so that he could makes sure that the male didn't walk off any future battlefield. She was still staring at him, and he sighed, drawing in a few deep breaths, her calmness helping to ground him as she rubbed her thumbs across his cheekbone,

"I know," she muttered, "I know, I wanted to break his balls, but we can't, once we have what we need, once we're leaving, then you can kill him." There was no hesitation in her eyes, she wanted the male dealt with, and she wouldn't begrudge him this, but she put their mission first, like he should. Still, the idea of letting someone who had hurt her just wander around was too much, he should put the mission first, but for some reason he couldn't.

She's worried you think less of her for not punching him in the gut, she did want to though.

Of course, she did, it's Gwyn.

She thinks you'll be disappointed.

"Gwyn?" Azriel slowly turned her face back towards him, "Are you really okay?"

"Yes. Why do you keep asking?"

"I'm waiting for an answer I believe."

"Well, I'm fine,"

"I'm not buying it, Gwyn, please, let me help,"

"I'm fine, I'm not hurt, I played the 'husband' card and he let me go, it rattled me, and he scared me, and I couldn't even deal with one male, and that's pathetic, but I'm fine. I'm fine surrounded by these types of males, I can defend myself, apparently, but today I failed, but not every female here can, and I have you to shout for, to threaten with, what if they don't? What if their husbands, fathers, brothers don't care? What if they are those males? I couldn't deal with one, and I'm supposed to be able to, and what if I panic when it really matters, what if something happens again at some point and I just panic?" She was shaking as she spoke, unable to stop the words, and Azriel just held her, brushing the tears away, letting her speak, "I'm supposed to be good at this, I can defend myself, but I got scared, and for a few seconds I lost it, I only made a plan once it was too late if he'd tried anything, he could have done anything before I'd sorted my mind out to stop him." She sucked in an unsteady breath, then another, and another, shallower, faster.

"Breathe in," Azriel ordered, "No, in," she released the breath, "Gwyn. Breathe in." She did as he said, panic flooding her gaze as she clung to him, "Now hold it," she was still sobbing quietly, but she did hold the breath, "Now breathe out." She did and immediately sucked in a shallow breath, "I want you to hold when you breathe out as well, love," She nodded, struggling to draw in another deep breath, but held Azriel's gaze, "I've got you," she breathed in, and held it, "I love you," she breathed out, and held it, "You're safe," in again, "You're here with me," out and hold, "You are the bravest," she drew in another breath, more controlled this time, "The strongest female I've ever met."

She released the breath, finally able to breathe without holding in between breaths, "I am always, always in awe of you, Gwyn, you astound me every day. Today, you found your head, you didn't let your fear win, you escaped the situation." She nodded, and buried her face in his neck, still managing those deep breaths, murmuring something to herself, but when she quieted, Azriel continued, "Every day that you don't let the fear win in a victory, each time you win out over that fear is another 'fuck you' to the ones who hurt you, each time you choose to be happy over being afraid is another day that I am in awe of you," his own tears were falling now, "Please, Gwyn, never think less of yourself for your fear, it is only with that fear that you can be brave, there is no courage without fear, and you prove every day, that I have no idea, none, what true courage is. You have that true courage, and it's part of why I fell for you, and no-one can take it from you, no-one, so promise me one thing, never forget that, never forget that your courage cannot be broken, not by anyone, and certainly not by your fear. Can you promise me that, never forget?" Gwyn sniffed, and snuggled into him again, but nodded, sending another tears slipping down Azriel's own face,

"I promise."

[ancientwastedlores]

Undone by “Darling”

REQUEST (from @november-solarstorms​): Celebrating another year of this earth being braced by Tom Hiddleston's presence! Lol. Might I make a prompt request? I feel as though it would be interesting to read from Loki's POV to explore the dynamics between him and a human female who is just as intelligent as he. She has a sharp wit and even sharper tongue. Her sarcastic and clever nature enable her to out-banter Tony Stark, the king of snark himself (may he rest in peace). But she is also just as flirtatious and salacious. She never blushes, never falters, and is incredibly clever. You can decide the nature of their encounter. Really im just in it for a good game of cat and mouse.

A/N: Okay, I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!! And yeah, this will run a bit longer than my usual fics lol. Also, there IS a Loki POV, just keep reading thaaanks <3

WARNINGS: none. 

WORD COUNT: 1,932

____________________________________________________________________

Undone by “Darling” 

17 hours and 6 white chocolate mochas later, it was finally ready - an upgraded version of Corvus Glaive’s glaive, this one spec-ed out to your fancies and requirements. It was a beast, and definitely not something Nick Fury would ever let you play around with, even if you made it. 

Satisfied with your work, you remove your safety goggles and grin at Stark, who is working on his own weapon he scavenged from the Black Order. 

‘I’m done!’ you say triumphantly, causing him to look up and groan.  ‘How did you finish before me!?’ he lowers his glasses and looks at your weapon.  ‘I’m smarter’ you say.   ‘I went to MIT’  ‘And I didn’t, yet here we are, both in the same lab’. 

He shakes his head, not unlike a petulant child, causing you to laugh. 

‘How far along are you?’ you ask.  ‘Still running diagnostics’.  ‘Still!?’  ‘Have you seen the size of his hammer?’ he gestures to Cull Obsidian’s chain hammer on his work table, but the innuendo doesn’t escape you and you grin at him. He facepalms. ‘Y/n, for god’s sake...’  ‘You’re just tired, or you’d appreciate the joke too’. 

You stretch your weary body and let out a deep breath. You’d test the weapon out tomorrow, but for now, you need a nap. 

‘Take a load off, Stark. Hammer’ll be there tomorrow’.  ‘Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you...’ he puts his goggles back on and get to work. 

xx

Loki’s POV: 

Humans are surprising, but I always knew that. I never thought them boring, even if my brother says I do. Humans are of so little power but such incredible resilience that it’s frankly astonishing. I am inclined to believe that sometimes resilience is just stupidity... in most cases, I am right. But that’s not to say I haven’t come across some truly brave people. 

Take the Avengers Tower, for example. 

Just in here, you have Y/n, a brave soldier with the mind of an intergalactic scavenger, and I do mean that as a compliment. She’s awfully clever, she can build better than Stark, and has a track record of finishing every mission to perfection and before time. And then you have the Super Soldier Steve Rogers, a big muscled, big hearted idiot who often mistakes challenging our enemies for bravery and morality. 

The two couldn’t be more different, but they get along like siblings. Not siblings like Thor and I... better adjusted, perhaps. 

They sit in front of me, talking about some mission while they play Chess. Her moves are quick but calculated, his take more time because he’s more interested in telling his story than playing the game. 

‘...so there I am, no weapons, no shield, bang in the middle of the Serpent Citadel...’ 

He’s a good storyteller, I’ll give him that. But not as good as Y/n. She paints quite a picture, full of delicious gory details and horribly dark jokes. 

‘Steve, you have to pay attention, you’re losing’ she says.  ‘Yeah, I don’t actually know how to play chess, I just wanted you to listen to my story’. 

She looks up at him, almost offended. ‘STEVE...’  ‘Cool, I’m gonna go wrap Stark into a game of Battleships and tell him about my fight with Copperhead’. 

She laughs as he leaves the room, and she puts the chess pieces away. 

‘We could play?’ I ask her.  ‘Is the God in a mood to lose?’  ‘Over confidence isn’t attractive in anybody’. ��Oh darling, neither is telling someone what is and isn’t attractive’. 

She’s never called me that before, and in the context it should seem cutting, but it isn’t. ‘Darling?’  ‘Problem?’  ‘It’s quite a term of endearment to set someone straight’. 

She says nothing. 

‘Cat got your tongue?’ I tease her. She only smiles and continues putting the pieces away neatly. Stark’s chess set is gold and black, all individually carved pieces. The pawns are all Iron Man suits, but that’s to be expected. She handles them with the care Stark would. 

‘I mean...’ I continue, ‘honestly, if someone heard, they’d never let you live it down’. 

And she carries on, unbothered. 

‘Y/n!’  ‘Oh dear, look at you come completely undone with just one term of endearment’ she comments, shutting the chess set. ‘Whatever would happen if I held your hand?’ 

The very thought of it seemed to drain my brain of blood. I unwillingly glanced at her hands, working the lock mechanism of the box, her blue veins prominent. 

‘Cat got your tongue?’ she asked. 

I stood up, the human emotion of embarrassment becoming too familiar for me. ‘I’ll have to see you at lunch’.  ‘Sure, darling’. 

Oh, I hate how she’s enjoying this. 

----------

The next day, Y/n booked a training room to test out the Glaive, and Stark had a rusty but working chain hammer. Steve insists on trying it out anyway, and now our breakfast is being spent on discouraging him from doing that. 

‘Guys... if nothing else, I’ll still have my shield. Let me test it out!’  ‘Y/n’s glaive cuts through Vibranium, you know that, right?’ Stark says.  ‘Y/n wouldn’t do that’. ‘Oh yes she would’ Y/n says nonchalantly as she sinks her teeth into a bacon and egg sandwich. 

As she does, the yolk runs down her fingers. She makes a sound at the inconvenience and sets the sandwich down, then grabs a napkin. I’m hardly ever crude, but the energy it took not to take her hand and lick off the yolk myself could burn every star in the galaxy. 

Captain America scrunches his nose at her remark, severely offended. 

‘In any case, that shield barely covers your giant body. It will force Stark to make you a new one’.  ‘What do you care about his giant body’ Stark says.  ‘It’s America’s ass, Tony’ she takes a sip of her iced coffee. Steve blushes, and Tony rolls his eyes. 

----------

The training facility is magic, of course, somewhere between a mirror dimension and Wanda’s reality powers creating a safe cocoon inside the building so no one can be harmed. Y/n hardly trusted anybody to fight with her except Thor, but given the nature of Corvus’ Glaive, she knew magic would be required. 

And so she called me. 

After getting into my battle armour, I stepped into the facility, equipped with my sceptre and the teachings of the witches of Asgard. 

She whistles as I walk in. ‘Trying to distract me from killing you?’  ‘Are you?’ I ask. She’s dressed in a black bodysuit, details of purple in her belt and weapon harnesses.  ‘Why yes, I am. Glad you noticed’. 

The glaive is on the floor, and she stomps her foot on one part of it so it swivels up and neatly places itself in her hand. She smiles. 

‘Try to keep up. I’m not just looking for eye candy in a training partner, darling’ she says, getting into battle stance. 

With nothing left to say for the second time this week, I aim the sceptre at her and the stone at the end glows. 

She charges and I shoot at her, but she spins the glaive and creates a shield which absorbs the energy. 

She continues to charge at me. I shoot again, and again the glaive takes the hit. Not a scratch on her. 

Once she comes closer, she simply places the flat end of the weapon against my chest, sending me hurtling back into a wall. 

She spins the glaive and laughs. 

‘Compliments of Wakanda. It absorbs any hits and charges up with kinetic energy’. 

I get up on my feet. This is far from over. I create multiple illusions to surround her, all of them brandishing knives, Chitauri tech, and sceptres. 

‘Damn, suddenly my whole evening has opened up’ she says, looking around.

Even my clones look around at each other puzzled. 

‘Come on then, who’s up?’ she spins the glaive around. ‘One at a time or all at once, baby’. 

They charge at her, and I expected her to fight them off at once... instead she plants the staff on the ground and ducks, and a semi-circle shell grows from the top of the staff, down to the floor... like a mini fortress, completely impenetrable. It could, no doubt, continue to take hits and build up kinetic energy, so I call off the clones. 

She gets up and retracts the shell. ‘Nanotech’ she grins at me. ‘The whole shell sits in a disk. It can withstand bombs and even a moon’.  ‘Is there any tech you haven’t adopted?’  ‘I’m an intergalactic scavenger, aren’t I?’ 

I stare at her, horrified. Can she read minds? 

‘Maybe I can. Or maybe I heard you tell Stark when he was complaining about me finishing my weapon first’. 

Silence. 

‘Also, darling, you’re awfully predictable in your fighting’. 

She picks up every trick and tech she sees, so beating her is less about weapons and more about cunning. 

No problem. Cunning is my specialty. 

‘Ready now?’ she asks.  ‘Mhm’. 

She takes a deep breath to ready herself, her eyes shutting slightly. Once they open back up, she stares in shock. 

In my Jotun form, I give her my most menacing smile.

She cocks her head to the side, studying my icy blue skin. 

The illusion I cast of myself approaches behind her, dagger in hand. Once it’s close enough and I can almost taste my victory, she raises the glaive and in one swift motion, sticks it into its abdomen. 

The illusion disappears into green light. 

‘Cute’ she remarks. She points the glaive at me. ‘What else you got for me?’  I shift back to my Asgardian form and sigh. ‘You win’. 

Y/n laughs and lowers her weapon. ‘Oh darling, I won the second you walked in wearing all that leather’. She winks at me, then walks out of the facility. I feel a blush creep to my face, much against my will. 

-------------

‘Maybe you should stick to your guns, Tony’ Y/n says, ‘Fancy suits is it for you, chain hammers may be overshooting it’.  ‘Is that what they taught you in the back alley you learnt ironmongery from?’  ‘Yes! Do you want their number, I’m sure they’ll have a spot on the waiting list for you’. 

Ah. Y/n’s relationship with Stark seemed more like mine with Thor. While they banter, Steve and Natasha tear up from laughing. I wouldn’t go so far as to call this domestic, but it certainly is comfortable. 

‘Come on, the glaive can’t be that good, right Loki?’ Stark asks. 

The company looks at me expectantly. ‘To say her weapon isn’t good enough means to insult your own tech, Stark. Everything about it is founded on your theories’. 

‘So technically, it’s my brain that made the glaive so cool’ he tells Y/n.  ‘Yeah, you could say that. The glaive comes from the same mind that manufactured Captain America’s dinner plate’. 

Steve doesn’t find that one funny, but Natasha does, sending her into peals of laughter. 

‘Oh whatever’ Tony huffs. ‘I’m going back to the lab’. 

He stands up and Y/n grabs his arm. ‘Aww Tony, I’m just kidding!’ she pats his hand, ‘Look, you’re a brilliant inventor, we all have our slow days’. 

He sighs and nods, and holds her hand. ‘Thanks... I guess I’m just not in my element, you know?’  ‘Yeah...’ she keeps patting his hand. 

And the feeling of domesticity creeps in. We really are all a family. Y/n smiles encouragingly at Tony, and Tony seems more relaxed. 

‘So, you want me to get you the number of that ironmongery, or...?’  ‘OH FOR...’ he snatches his arm away and storms out of the room, with Steve and Nat losing it all over again. 

___________________________________________________________

Ah this was so fun!!!!!!!! I hope you guys liked it <3 

MASTERLIST HERE

ASK BOX OPEN FOR FIC REQUESTS. Find GUIDELINES HERE.

[marchioness-caprina]

Mine Again

Pairings : Jealous! Shinso Hitoshi x Reader

Writing Style : 3rd Person

Warning : Cussing.

Word Count : 1508

3rd Person's POV

" Why don't You get a Boyfriend Y/n? " Uraraka commented her eyes darting towards her female companion who was having trouble carrying the gifts and letters given to her by her admirers.

" It's not that easy Ochako" Y/n sighed as the two continued walking from the halls.

Uraraka also had quite a handful of gifts in her hands because y/n had asked the girl to help her.

" Why not? " Uraraka shot back staring at her classmate with questioning eyes.

" Because..... " Y/n paused looking down on the floor.

She and Shinso had been dating Back at their middle school but when the two decided to try out for U.A. Shinso had decided to break things off because he wanted the two of them to concentrate more in becoming a Hero.

Y/n Understood his point and was very reluctant. She even tried persuading Shinso to Fix things but knowing Shinso. He was a stubborn person.

He even told her to " Find someone else "

She knew he didn't mean it but it still Hurt. His words had no filter at all and it didn't help when he said it with such a straight face.

And after that, They drifted away even more because Y/n was in class A. And it was pretty obvious that an unreasonable amount of students hate Class A.

She tried approaching Shinso Multiple Times but he didn't spare her a single glance. He ignored her and even acted like he hated her.

It hurt. Maybe Shinso was being serious and it's time to actually consider the fact that they will probably never be able to fix their broken relationship.

Maybe she should find someone else... Maybe Dating Someone else Can help her move on.

Yeah that's probably what she should do.

" Because what? " Uraraka peered at the girl who had long stopped on her tracks.

" Nothing.... Maybe I should Consider dating someone.... " Y/n began walking catching up to Uraraka. She didn't notice that she had passed by a certain purple haired boy who heard her words clearly.

Shinso couldn't help but feel his heart sink. She was considering the idea of Dating someone? Shouldn't he feel Happy? That she's happily moving on? But Damn it. Why can't he do the same thing? The Day he broke up with her, his insomnia got worst, he felt hollow and empty and he can't even close his eyes for a minute because of those fucking nightmares he's been having.

It's probably better this way anyways. He could always ignore it. He'll be Fine.

_________________________

Fuck the 'He'll be Fine' Bullshit because he's definitely Not. His eyes were Fogged with Jealousy and Anger seeing the H/c girl laughing at What the Dunce Kid was saying. Not only that. Denki had the guts to put his hand on her hips.

And she fucking Let Him?! . Balling his hand into a fist he gritted his teeth, his eyes boring holes on Kaminari's Head thinking of ways he could use his quirk on him. He'll Tell him to jump over a cliff? No that's too boring, Maybe he'll order the blonde boy to castrate himself.

" Get your grubby hands away from MY kitten" Shinso growled under his breath as he finally stood up from his seat seeing how Denki was getting closer and closer towards y/n.

His hands were shoved in his pockets as he approached them.

" Seriously? You did that when Bakugou was asleep? " Y/n chuckled while the blonde male nodded his head proudly.

Her laughter filled Shinso's ears like a soft tune of melody that could lull him to sleep. As much as he missed her voice, he didn't appreciate how Another male was responsible of making her laugh. It pissed him off.

" Yea--- Huh? " Denki stopped mid sentence when his arm was ripped away from the girl by shinso.

Shinso's Arm wrapped possessively around her waist pulling her away from Denki who had a look of confusion.

" What the fuck are you doing? " Shinso spat out. Venom laced in his tone glaring down at Denki.

" I was---" Denki paused making Shinso smirk. He was now under the control of his quirk.

" What are you doing Shinso? " Y/n asked trying to push him away but he had an iron grip on her.

" Kitten. Don't. Move" Shinso demanded in a deep voice and out of fear the girl immediately stopped moving. She knew how terrifying Shinso could be once he's mad.

" Now... Get the fuck away from here and don't touch MY kitten every again. Get Lost" Shinso calmly spat out but his voice was menacing.

Denki jerked back from his spot before walking away from them without another word . His movement was almost robotic .

" Come on" Shinso muttered grabbing the girl by her wrist and dragging her out of the Cafeteria without much effort.

" So.... Had Fun with Him? He's Funny Right? I'm just disappointed at you... You could do so much better but here you are fooling around with an idiot like him " Shinso hissed glaring down at y/n.

His eyes held the ugly look of jealousy and he didn't even try to hide it.

" Oh please. He's just a friend I know I could do better. I could always go for Bakugou and Todor---" Y/n yelped when her back was harshly slammed to the nearest wall.

Shinso's hand placed on each side of her head preventing her from escaping.

" You don't get it do you?. I'm Fucking Jealous Kitten and you had the guts to taunt me like that huh? " Shinso growled lowly his glare hare and harsh and the girl didn't falter crossing her arms over her chest.

" Kiss me " Shinso suddenly muttered making the girl stare at him with a dumbfounded expression.

" Huh? "

" Kiss me or slap me. I know I was the one who broke up and I look pathetic and stupid asking for another chance right here.... I was wrong I fucking know that... I thought I'd be fine but seeing you with another guy just destroys me... So fucking Kiss me or slap---" Shinso was cut off when he felt a pair of plump and sweet lips meet his in a gentle yet demanding kiss that brought the dead emotions in him back to life. He kissed her back immediately and desperately trying to savor the sweet kiss he missed.

His hand gripped a fistful of her hair pushing her forward deepening the kiss as he tilted his head to the side. The girl wrapped her arms around his neck as she stood on her tippy toes trying to get as much of him as she could.

The girl tried pulling away because of how her lungs burned for oxygen but Shinso had other plans. The moment she tried pulling back shinso grabbed both of her wrists pinning them on her sides as he kissed her even further the wall supporting the back of her head while her lover devoured her lips.

After awhile shinso pulled away leaving the girl panting for air a small string of saliva connecting their lips as shinso stared directly at her eyes.

" I missed that so much.... So... Yes or--"

" I'm still pissed at you Hitoshi , if you're gonna give a dirty comment I'm going to slap you and punch you in the guts " The girl snapped while the purple haired boy chuckled pressing a soft kiss on her cheek.

" Relax... I'll give the dirty things behind closed doors... Seriously though I'm pretty pent up ... And I also lack sleep... All because of you... My kitten " Shinso whispered making the girl's cheeks turn a small shade of pink..

" That's sweet but if you're gonna make out can you do it somewhere private my dear disciple and student? " Came the blunt comment of Aizawa.

The girl's eyes widened the moment she saw her teacher and tried pulling away from the purple haired boy who only tightened his hold on the girl.

" I'm so sorry sensei! You had to see that! I'm so sorry! " The girl gushed as she slapped Hitoshi's chest attempting to push him away.

" Oh... Don't Worry. I wasn't alone... We all saw " Aizawa muttered and her face turned even redder seeing her classmates peeking their heads through the door and even Class B was watching the whole thing.

" Hitoshi! You Did this shit on purpose! " She hissed covering her red face with her hands.

" I needed to make it official in the most obvious way I could... After all... Your 'Admirers' Needed to know that you're my Kitten " Shinso smirked his eyes 'lovingly' staring down at his little girlfriend.

[axther]

in the golden afternoon

tamaki x reader: in the golden afternoon

in which the reader falls into a place called Wonderland, and meets the knave of hearts who is far too soft spoken to be a knight. for @mortedeveles​ tw: mentions of beheading 

Wonderland was a strange place, YN realised.

Truthfully, she wasn’t entirely sure how she got there; she was on a walk when she tripped over a hole, and there she was, plummeting down and down and down through the most unusual rabbit tunnel. It was like a drug trip and made YN dizzier than she would’ve liked. But when she finally landed, she realised that this world was much stranger than her own. It was upside down and inside out, where nowhere was everywhere and everywhere was anywhere. Paths erased themselves and the sky was a strange shade of purple mixed with blue. Huge pine trees had pale pink roses on them, and the grass was maroon. Flowers spoke with sharp tones and lilting song, rocking-horse flies flitted around, and YN would shrink and grow at the world’s whims. There were no rules, and YN learned to obey. One of the non-rules was told to YN by a young man with purple hair and wide, toothy grin. He called himself the Cheshire Cat, as he reclined lazily along a tree branch and swung his tail around. All ways here, you see, are the King’s ways, he purred. Oh, but don’t worry. He’d be just mad about you. YN wasn’t sure what the Cat meant by that, but his lavender eyes narrowed, and she didn’t feel any comfort. He took it upon himself, strangely enough, to follow YN through her journey into Wonderland. He gave snippets of twisted wisdom and often got her into trouble, but she couldn’t find herself to become angry at him. He was a companion that she found herself grateful for in the long dark ways of Wonderland. She ended up wandering into the gardens of the Red King, seeing several young men furiously painting several white roses. The Cat floated around above her, watching the men work. “My, my, they are truly working themselves hard.” The Cat grinned, wrapping his tail around YN’s shoulders. “It’s almost like their lives depend on it~!” “Do you suppose that’s why?” YN tilted her head, looking at the Cat and then back to the men. “They’re very rushed.” YN bent down to pick up a stray paint can and brush, and prodded the brush around in the bucket. The red paint was more akin to blood, wet and dripping onto the grass. Strangely, the grass looked to once be green, if the spots unpainted meant anything, but the young men had been so sloppy with their job that it had gotten everywhere. The roses were very blatantly painted, hardly drying before they moved onto another flower. The leaves were dripping and the branches were stained, and YN slowly walked up to the three they were working on. “Hullo,” She moved around so she could see the three men, each of whom jumped before working twice as fast. One had bright green hair that flopped around his face, the paint smattering over his freckles and making him look like a Christmas decoration. The one next to him looked angry, almost stabbing the roses in his fury. The last looked, in a word, dumb, painting his fingers more than the roses and getting it all over his blonde hair. He had a strange mark that was like a lightning bolt across the side of his hair, and it seemed so out of place with the rest of him that YN cast him a strange look. “Huh?!” The second worker turned, and with a growl, swung his paintbrush at YN without hitting her, and went back to work. “Get outta here! Fuckin idiot!!” “What?” YN reeled back, pursing her lips with an angry stare. “How rude!” “You fuckin heard me!” The man barked, growling like a dog. “We’re busy!” “W-wait!” The green-haired one stopped the blonde in his tracks with a yelp. “Kaachan! Be nice! Maybe she can help us!” “Oh?” The Cheshire Cat grinned. “Being recruited, are we?” “Shush, you mangy thing.” YN huffed, tightening her hold on the paint can and addressing the three. “Why are you painting the roses red?” “Well, y-you see, the Red King wanted red roses.” The green-haired one stuttered, biting his lip and getting back to work. “And fucking Socket Licker planted white roses!” Kaachan hissed, finishing up the tree. The last blonde jumped, peering at YN and the others. “Huh? Is something up?” “Denki, not now.” “Oh. OK!” Denki started walking over to the tree that Kaachan was working on, working on a rose that was already painted. The green-haired man hung back, looking to YN. “Uh...I’m Midoriya, and that’s Bakugou and Denki. Would you be willing to help us? It would really be awesome!” “Very well, then.” YN furrowed her brow and walked up to the tree, painting gently so it actually looked convincingly like a red rose. Bakugou and Midoriya were both doing relatively good jobs, but Denki’s painting was sloppy enough that white portions were left open. YN tried to cover several of them up, but before she could get far, trumpets starting sounded from across the hedge maze. The three jumped, scampering around and trying to paint any roses they saw with a single swipe of red. It didn’t do much, but then the White Rabbit walked mutely in with a small frown and sighed, raising a piece of parchment and beginning to read from it. “His imperial highness, his grace, his excellency, her royal majesty, the King of Hearts, and the Knave of Hearts.” Midoriya, Bakugou, and Denki all got down onto their knees (though Bakugou seemed far more reluctant). YN glanced at them, and then got onto her knees as well and shoved her nose into the grass. The White Rabbit shuffled to the side and rolled his eyes (YN realised, peaking up, that they were two different colours) as another man stepped into view. He had a completely smug grin on his face and blonde hair that was flat and oddly natural. His blue eyes scanned over the flowers, before slowly sauntering over to the roses. Paint still dripped down from them, and YN paled at the thought of what the Red King was going to do. If these three were so freaked out, then what was his usual reaction? “Ah, yes...the red royal roses.” He whispered, caressing the roses gently in his hands. He brought it up to his nose, took a deep breath, and pulled away again. Abruptly, he ripped it off of the tree and threw it onto the ground, angrily stomping on it with his foot. “Then why the hell are they painted?!” He howled, turning to the trio. “Who the hell painted my roses red?!” “It was Deku!” Bakugou’s head snapped up, barking with a vigor. “It’s was all him!” “Midoriya, you say?” “N-no, Your Majesty! It w-was...Denki! Sorry, Denki.” “Huh?” Denki looked up, quirking his head. “But I thought it was Bakugou who said to paint them?” “Enough!” The Red King bit, stomping his foot again. “Off with their heads!” YN paled, looking up with wide eyes. Several knights stepped forward and started dragging the three off, with only Bakugou spitting and kicking the whole way down. YN was left alone in front of this menace, and she felt her blood cool. “And what’s this?” The Red King looked down at YN with a sneer before snapping his fingers. “Knave!” “Y-y-yes, King Monoma.” From behind several knights, a young man scampered out. Instantly, he felt different from the others; he was meek, holding himself close and almost shuffling out of sight. He skittered up to YN and knelt, gently tilting her chin up to look her in the eyes. His own were a stunning shade of indigo, dark and almost black. Tufts of similar hair poked out from under his helmet, framing his face and making him look...well, beautiful. He seemed to be glowing under the eternal afternoon sun, and he blinked softly. “Oh.” He murmured, eyes wide and pleading. “Y-you’re…” “Well?” The Red King huffed, crossing his arms. “Get on with it!” “Sh-she’s a girl, sir! Your Majesty, sir!” The Knave jumped up like he was burned, hands snapping to his side and looking terrified. “A human girl!” “Oh?” The Red King leaned down to YN, raising his eyebrow and smirking. “Well hello, there.” “Hello, uh...your majesty.” “She’s a quick learner!” He grinned, though it felt horribly malicious. “Get up, my dear.” YN got to her feet as quickly and gracefully as possible, making it her one goal to survive. The Cheshire Cat cackled in an echo, and YN felt tempted to spit some insult at him, but knew that it would only land her in trouble. “Follow me, my dear.” The Red King waved his sceptre lackadaisically, beginning to move through the gardens. YN started trotting after him, noting that he seemed like a complete control freak-and that even stepping ahead of him would be dangerous. The Knave caught up with both of them, glancing at YN out of the corner of his eye every couple of seconds. YN glanced back, trying to make sure that her head was on a swivel, before looking ahead when the Red King started talking about something mundane. Meanwhile, Tamaki was having a stroke. He hated his job. He hated being looked at. He hated being told what to do, hated that he was a glorified butler, hated that his best friends were scattered across Wonderland. But this was the first time in...too long that he’d seen another actual human being that wasn’t completely cruel. This young woman seemed sensible, though, and seemed to restrain herself from something stupid. She held herself with a certain grace that Tamaki hadn’t seen in a long, long time. “Knave!” Monoma barked, spinning around. “Stop zoning out, before you lose your head!” “S-s-sorry,” Tamaki whispered, bowing his head and fiddling with his fingers. Monoma lowered his eyes in disdain, but let it go in favour of pointing to the castle. “Give our sweet guest a room, Knave.” Monoma lowered his eyes, and Tamaki realised with a chill that Monoma had crueller intentions. No one was ever allowed into the guest rooms of the castle unless they were going to be executed, or worse-assassinated. Why Monoma wanted to kill this sweet, King-abiding young woman, Tamaki had no clue, but he shook and nodded his head sheepishly. “A-as you wish…” “As I wish…?” “Y-your majesty.” “Good dog,” Monoma smirked again, walking off as Tamaki bit the inside of his cheek. He hated this, hated the Red King, hated Wonderland. And this poor girl was going to be killed because, what, Monoma just didn’t like her? It was a cruel world that Tamaki lived in, and a crueller fate for the young woman. “You’re Tamaki.” Tamaki jumped out of his skin at the woman’s soft tone. Her tense demeanour had melted away, leaving her gently smiling at him. “How…?” “You look like someone I know.” She looked ahead, rocking her hands a bit. “And you remind me of him a lot. Actually, everyone here is very familiar. The Red King, the White Rabbit, the Cheshire Cat...you.” “R-really?” Tamaki felt his heartstrings being pulled almost dramatically, and a flush overtook his face. “Yeah!” The young woman chirped. “Oh...I suppose here, you don’t know my name. I’m YN.” “YN…” Tamaki tested it on his tongue, and he could almost feel it rolling around in his mouth and on his tongue like a delicate sweet. It made warmth surge through him, and something in his gut twitched. It made him feel warm, flooding through him like good memories. He stopped in his tracks, feeling like he was on fire before he gasped. “Huh?” YN stopped and turned around, tilting her head. “Are you okay?” “Y-you…” Every cell in Tamaki’s body screamed out for him not to hurt her. No, she was something far more than just a woman. She was someone that brought him comfort even then, in the Red King’s gardens, where the rest of Wonderland couldn’t even touch them. It was them against the world. “Wait.” Tamaki turned around, making sure that there were no new cards slinking around nearby. YN raised her eyebrow and gave him a curious look, tilting her head. “Is something wrong?” “Come with me.” Tamaki felt a strange surge of confidence through him, holding his hand for YN to take. “If you stay here, you’ll be k-killed.” “What?” YN’s eyes went wide, and she took his hand. He began to run through the maze, knowing every twist and turn like the back of his hand. The evergreen hedges folded into pale bushes, and then into red grass that he missed so dearly. In the distance, he heard Monoma yelling for him, but for once, he didn’t listen. He kept on running, booking it for the edge of the woods until the sky was consumed by trees and the mome raths scattered at the sound of their pounding feet. YN was panting behind him, doing her best to keep up, but he finally skittered to a halt before a great wall. It was the edge of Wonderland, at the very border of the Red King’s land. He turned to YN. “I can get you past here. From there, you can get home safely.” “What’s going on?” YN’s eyes were wide, confused and alert. “We all know you, YN.” Tamaki sighed, feeling an incredible sense of melancholy and nostalgia come over him. “I don’t know how...but we do. And you can’t stay here.” “I…” YN tensed, and Tamaki knew why. She had no reason to trust him. He was just a complete stranger that said he knew her, even though he technically didn’t. There was no reason that she should do anything with him, even if-YN smiled, and Tamaki froze. His heart roared in his ears, and the flush on his cheeks came back tenfold. The world was spinning around her like she was the sun, and Tamaki let out a nervous laugh. Nervous? What was more nervous than nervous? That’s what he was. He was stone in front of this goddess, and he could only shuffle his feet. “Y-you should go before Monoma realises that we’re...yanno…” “Right.” YN nodded, looking over the wall before walking over to it. She pressed her hand to it, and there was a breezy laugh over her shoulder. “Now, now, YN.” The Cheshire Cat started reclining on her shoulder, moving his hands to wrap around her shoulders. “Isn’t it lovely here? I’m sure that the Red King just wanted you to stay the night~” “Shut up, dumb cat.” YN bit, and pressed her hand into the wall. A door appeared out of nowhere, swinging open, and Tamaki sighed. YN turned back to him, giving him a shy smile. “Stay safe, ok?” “I-I will!” Tamaki jumped, his hands snapping to his side. YN lingered through the doorway, like she wasn’t quite ready to leave. Tamaki glanced around, unsure what she was waiting for. “I...I don’t think I’d be able to tell you this in real life.” YN looked down, eyes flickering across the dirt. “But I like you. A lot.” Tamaki jumped. “Wh-what?!” “I guess, since this isn’t real…” YN paused. “Right?” “Oh.” Tamaki only felt confused and could barely make two words. “What?” “This is…oh, nevermind.” YN took a deep breath, relaxing her shoulders as the Cheshire Cat slinked off. “Goodbye, Tamaki.” She walked through, and Tamaki saw a light. 

Tamaki woke up on his desk and had a heart attack. 

He jumped up, hoping he didn’t attract too much attention from the rest of his class. Oddly enough, though, only Mirio, Neijre, and YN were in the room. They were talking quietly amongst themselves, and Tamaki felt instant mortification. “There he is!” Mirio smiled brightly at him, waving. “Have a good nap?” “Y-you let me sleep!” Tamaki paled, feeling ready to drip out of his seat and onto the floor. YN turned and smiled softly. “You deserve it.” “Yeah! And it sounded like you were having a good dream!” Nejire giggled. “You were smiling and bright red!” “I-I was?! Oh, god!” Tamaki’s hands rushed to his face, slapping his cheeks in hopes of willing the flush down. He felt sick to his stomach; did he say anything in his sleep? Did YN know? Was it weird? “C’mon, Tama.” YN rose and placed a gentle hand on Tamaki’s back. “We should head to our dorms before it gets too late.” Tamaki’s head snapped up as Mirio and Neijre began walking out the door. YN waited next to him, soft eyes on him. He felt like the world was slowed to a stop. YN was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, and the gentle way that she looked at him made his heart race. He loved her for the longest time, and no matter what, she always managed to make him into goo.

  He supposed his crush was like a rabbit hole, and he was still falling.