#this guy is just conjuring those things from his own mind or maybe hes getting influenced from somehwere else | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beerecordings · 11 months ago

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Look we all know Mr. Higgins is the real star of the new comics. Here is a fic about him adopting Marvin, all while Marvin finds himself struggling desperately against the memory control of the Magic Circle. Written after Altrverse #0, extrapolations are probably not canon to anything. Thanks for reading, let me know if you enjoy!

The excitement of a new book always fills him with verve enough to keep him up late into the night. His shop is warm, a green fire burning without wood or fuel along the back wall, and his scalp tingles with every new sigil passing through his vision.

The fact that it's an extremely illegal book to own only makes it more exciting for Marvin.

He's almost laid out over the counter, bent low over the pages, his free hand wrapped around a third mug of hot mint tea – got to have something to go with the book, after all – when the door to the shop jingles. He'd meant to lock up for the night, but he hadn't managed to tear himself away. “Come in!” he calls distractedly, pressing his hand over a complex sigil shaped like a pair of antlers.

No footsteps sound. Marvin looks up quickly, his mind conjuring images of the twins in full regalia in his doorway, ready to strip him of his power for the transgression of his black magic book, but no one's there.

He can't decide if that's worse or better.

“Hello?” he calls, voice sharpening. He can handle most magicians, and certainly any civilians. But if this is the Magic Circle trying games with him, he won't be playing. “Reveal yourself.”

Something shifts by the bookshelf closest to the door. Marvin gets to his feet, book forgotten, and fixes his mask back over his face. He'll address this head on. He summons a spell and transports the four feet to be on the other side of his bookshelf, purple light gleaming for a second in his wake, alighting on his hand markings.

“Meow?” says a little grey and white cat.

Marvin stops short, mouth falling open in delight. The tension rushes out of him so fast his face feels cold. He claps his hands together and falls to his knees. “Hello, there, darling, aren't you a pretty sight? I wouldn't have thought a cat could get through that door, or you wouldn't have set me so on alert, you know! You must have really wanted in.”

He glances up at the door. Really, how did a cat push through that? The cat mewls at him again.

“Oh, come here, poor thing.”

He scratches his fingers against the carpet. The cat looks at him with interest, sitting down beside his shelves. It has remarkably clear eyes, blinking languidly at him, tail flicking. It's so calm Marvin just approaches it, putting a hand on its head and stroking down its grey back. It closes its eyes and purrs minutely, completely unhurried.

“Yes, there's a good little creature,” Marvin laughs. He pulls his hand away at a tacky sensation and finds his palm coated in dirt and dust. He sits petting the cat for several minutes, until the creature flops onto its side and exposes its belly to him. It's a male cat, purring loudly at him now, those cute paws folded in the air. Marvin laughs.

“You are a sight for sore eyes. But I can't have you tearing up the carpet or peeing on my books, kitten. Tell you what, I'll get you something to eat from upstairs and set it outside for you. Okay? Be right back.”

He heads upstairs to his flat and gets into the fridge, setting several strips of deli meat onto a plate for the cat. Maybe he'll take some pictures of the little guy as he eats. It would be nice to have a cat coming around every now and then. He had cats as a kid, in his family home, before he had to... well, before everything that happened. He loved them enough to shape his mask after them, but he's never had the free time for a pet. At this point, he's not even sure he has the safety for a pet. If the Circle finds out...

Well. Seeing as he himself isn't even aware of what he's doing half the time, he's hoping the chances of being discovered are slim.

Marvin sighs and heads back downstairs, clicking his tongue at the cat as he walks to the door and opens it. He sets the dish on the ground, but the cat hasn't moved, just looking at him from the carpet inside.

“Oh, you're comfy there, are you?” Marvin chuckles. “I understand. But you better have something to eat. Come here, then.”

The cat doesn't get up. Marvin sighs again, stepping over to him. “Sorry, my darling, but you can't stay in here.”

He leans down to pick the cat up. He doesn't struggle at all – well-behaved little thing – but as Marvin sets a foot outside, he sees a droplet of dark grey appear on the pavement beside it.

He frowns and looks up. A drop of water strikes his cheek.

“Really, right now?”

He's used to UK rain, but it's only a moment or two later that a full torrential downpour is pushing him back inside the shop. He curses and grabs the deli meat, pulling the dish inside. The cat leans down and delicately begins eating.

“Oh, lucky bugger,” Marvin says, shaking his head. “You're sure you're not a magic spy cat or something? A man disguised as a cat to trick me?”

The cat finishes the turkey and leans down to begin licking his anus.

“Alright, yeah, not a spy.”

Marvin looks out at the rain, coming down aggressively onto the awning and beating a cold rhythm through the shop. The cat polishes himself up politely at Marvin's feet. Poor dirty thing. Maybe he has an owner who's looking for him.

“Alright, then,” Marvin says, leaning down to pick the cat up once more. “You can stay just for tonight, while I figure out what to do with you.”

The cat pushes its head into his chin and purrs.

"Why do you have this? Where did you get it?"

"Would you just look?"

Sunday chooses to look up at him instead, something between astonishment and dismay arguing on his face. "Marvin..."

Marvin sighs out and taps the front of the book. "I have some contacts from my old mentor. They found this for me."

"Marvin, Ramesses wasn't exactly the kind of magician the Circle would approve of."

"You think I don't know that?"

Sunday sighs and rubs at the ear of his mask - a pretty cute form of self-soothing, really. After a moment, he flicks open the pages of the book.

"How's your memory today?" Marvin asks, trying not to sound too strained.

"What do you mean, my memory?"

"Do you remember that the Circle has been wiping things from our heads?" Marvin insists, clutching at the table.

Sunday's eyes flicker. "Right. That's... why we're looking at things like this."

"Right," Marvin agrees, relieved. "That's why we need help from magicians like Ramesses. Ones who know what's really going on. We need to find a way to keep them out of our heads."

It's dangerous stuff, but he and Sunday have had that discussion. Marvin has to trust that he's going to stay on board even as both of their memories ebb and flow. He desperately needs someone to help him remember. It's infuriating, knowing that the people who are supposed to be helping magicians are just taking control of them instead. Marvin won't be their puppet.

"This is the spell you're looking at?" asks Sunday.

"Yes. To protect someone from mind magic."

"You can't cast that alone."

"Help me, then!"

"We can't cast this alone," Sunday corrects. "You would need a huge group or an artifact."

"I have some magical artifacts."

"Not ones with enough power."

"Sunday, please."

"Marvin." His friend looks up at him sharply. "I know how deep we are in over our heads, but that's why we must be careful. You don't even know if this spell will work. It could harm you, change you, burn you out. Start with some of the smaller ones... look, this can imbue an object with the magic to see things for you. A looking glass of its own. And I'm sure you've been scrying."

Marvin grits his teeth. Yes, he's been scrying. All he sees is black wisps and red eyes through the darkness. Something is coming, and he can't stop it without knowing his mind is secure. He needs to expel the twins from the Magic Circle, needs to have a group of magicians he can trust, needs to -

"Marvin," says Sunday again. "You're working yourself up."

His sigils are glowing. He turns away bitterly, clutching his hands into fists.

"We're going to figure it out," Sunday says wearily. "You have to believe that. But you can't hurt yourself."

He sets the book down. "I need to get going. Not all of us get to run our own bookstores. I'll text you tomorrow after work, okay?"

"Fine," says Marvin. "Fine."

"Whoa, wait, is this yours?"

Marvin looks over to see the stray cat coming out of his bedroom, sitting down beside Sunday to regard him warily. It meows at him loudly enough that Sunday chuckles.

"No, I just took him in for a couple nights," Marvin sighs. "Trying to find his owner."

"And if he doesn't have one?"

"I don't know." He really doesn't. The cat's super cute, but Marvin has a lot going on. "I don't think I've got time for a cat. I get a little focused on one thing at a time."

Sunday gives him a look of disbelief. "A little?"

"Oh, shut it."

Sunday rubs the cat's head for a moment before standing. "We'll figure this out," he repeats. "Don't lose hope."

"I need you to give me some," Marvin says wearily.

Sunday touches his shoulder and grins at him, just as tired, but there's nothing more he can say. Once he's gone, Marvin sinks onto the couch, sighing deep. The cat jumps up beside him.

"You want to switch places?" Marvin asks, reaching out to scratch his chin. "I'll sleep and eat all day and you can go back to a place where you know you'll be brainwashed every time they call for you. You don't know how sick it makes me... but then, of course, I forget, and I'm theirs again."

He almost sinks in on himself, then, just wanting to melt into the couch. But the cat gets into his lap and meows at him, and the stink of his breath makes him laugh and pull back, and he sits up and pets him for a while instead of crumpling into his own dismay.

“Well, he's not got fleas or ticks or anything.”

The vet runs her hands professionally over the disgruntled cat, looking through his fur and petting his head. He turns to Marvin like he's expecting him to come help, and Marvin stifles a laugh. He's an expressive cat, really. Must have been good at begging for scraps.

“Really, none?”

“No," says the vet. "Why, did you see some?”

“No, it's just, I figured a stray cat would have one. You sure he's not chipped either?”

“No chip,” the vet confirms, running her hands over the cat. “How long have you had him?”

“Five days now. I called the animal shelter and posted online in case anyone is looking for him.”

“You can check our board in case someone's posted that he's lost.”

“Alright, will do.”

“But he's neutered and all, so you don't have to worry about that.”

“Good,” says Marvin emphatically. “I've never met such a headstrong cat. I don't think he'd let anybody get down there with scissors.”

“Oh, but he's such a well-mannered little boy,” coos the vet, petting the cat's head. The cat purrs.

“Yeah, now,” Marvin laughs. “But if you do something he doesn't like, he will let you know. I think he's capable of revenge.”

They have a laugh about it and the vet gets ready to give him some shots. When she gets out a syringe, the cat raises his butt like he's ready to bolt, but Marvin grabs his scruff sharply and leans down to chide him.

“Everybody has to get shots, Higgins,” he says. “You behave. You can't come home if you're not healthy.”

“Oh, no, you've named him,” smiles the vet.

Marvin puffs out a sigh. “I have, haven't I? I didn't mean to. But doesn't he look just like a little Mr. Higgins? Who's the prettiest boy?”

Mr. Higgins shoots him a disgruntled look, but he allows the vet to pin him down gently and give him his shots. Soon as they're done, he nips Marvin's thumb with his teeth.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” says Marvin, pushing him back into the carrier. “We'll check the board and then get you home.”

He's still not sure he wants a cat, but Higgins keeps trying to sleep in his bed, so Marvin figured he'd be responsible and get him checked over before they both get fleas. "You might not get to stick around forever," he tells the cat. "But I'll take care of you while you do."

But as he gets out to the reception of the vet's clinic, looking at their board of announcements and missing pet posters, he realizes he doesn't mind having the cat around. And this is how people get cats, right? They just take one in for a night, and then the cat adopts you. It's not like there's much going on for him right now, anyone. Things are good at the shop and with the Magic Circle. Everything's -

Higgins lets out a meow so loud other people turn to look at him, and so does Marvin, surprised. He's reminded of Higgins meowing at Sunday, who was over at his place to - to what?

To look at that black magic book...

Which he got because... because... why? Why is he looking at magic like that?

Higgins meows again, a little strangled. Marvin looks into his big, languid cat's eyes. Because...

The Circle is fucking with his head.

The realization hits him like a baseball in the chest, but even as it does, he knows this isn't the first time he's realized it. They keep making him forget - forget - forget.

He's a fucking puppet.

Marvin pushes himself out of the vet's office, vision blurry with frustrated tears.

"It keeps happening," he says to Higgins, voice tight. "I can't make them stop."

Higgins looks up at him from his carrier. The cat's quiet now, not struggling or meowing. Just looking at him.

"Yeah, you might not want me for an owner," sighs Marvin. "Fucked up head and a fucked up mess I can't seem to get myself out of."

Higgins lets out one little meow. Okay. That's pretty cute too. Marvin tries to get over himself. The self-pity won't help. Maybe, when he gets home, he can focus on getting Higgins a treat instead, since he was such a little gentleman at the vet.

Knowing that Sunday is right about the spell he wants to try doesn't it make it any easier to resist.

In fact, he thinks it makes it harder. Who is Sunday to tell Marvin what he's capable of?

He's always had that proud streak, and he knows it. Wanting to be the best at everything has served Marvin well in some parts of his life, but he's also been called cocky, overzealous, and, on one occasion, "basically a rat going to town on a Cheeto when it comes to magic," and all for good reason.

Higgins has hopped up on the kitchen counter, sitting beside the black magic book. Everytime Marvin looks over at it, he meows pointedly. If he didn't know better, he'd say the little miscreant was trying to warn him away too.

"It's just a spell," Marvin tells him, pacing around his living room. "I've never died trying stupid spells before. And I have tried some damn powerful spells."

He's good at powerful spells. He's a powerful fucking sorceror. It's why he was picked for this, mentored so intensely, sculpted to be better, better, better. The Magic Circle has its rules, but it should never have become a means to control him or restrain him. They can't take his own mind for him. He won't allow it!

"No one else is doing anything about it," he says to Higgins. "Sunday's the only one who's been able to hear me out and not forget everything the very next day. And even him, I have to remind again and again, and he has to remind me."

Higgins says "mrrp."

"Well, it's not like I can just leave the Magic Circle! All magical authority comes from them, and the twins - well. I have a lot to learn from the twins. Things the outsiders will never have access to. No, I need to be the one to take this all down from the inside. I'll cleanse it with fire if I have to! Or else - or else what will happen? We'll all be their slaves forever."

No. No. He won't be their tool. He grabs the black book. Higgins yowls.

"There is food for you in your bowl," Marvin chides him, heading towards the stairs. "Stay up here!"

Higgins tries to follow him down to the shop, and Marvin has to push him away with his foot, closing the door on him. Higgins makes a noise that can't be anything other than annoyed.

"Needy thing," Marvin chides, heading down the stairs, but it's soon gone from his mind. He's really going to try a new spell, one that might exorcise the twins's control over him. There's no rush like this, he loves it. New books, new spells, new magic. This is what he was born and trained for.

"Sunday doesn't know what I can do," Marvin says, putting his book down on his desk. This time, he makes sure the door to the shop is locked. "And neither do the fucking twins."

Mensprotego, not the original name of the spell, to be sure. It's Romanian in origin and the name is just some Latin combination of phrases given to it to lend it a feeling of power. But Marvin knows the real power of it as he traces the words over the spell. He draws his sigils with precision - he should have known when he was practicing the unfamiliar ones that he would always end up trying this alone - and sticks a mandrake leaf against the roof of his mouth, as the spell instructs. For extra energy, he'll use Ramesses's old staff.

It's good to grip it in his hands again. Even after all this time, he still thinks he can feel his mentor with him every time he holds it. Sometimes, he even gets the nostalgic smell of fire and the Vaseline he would smear over his scarring.

"Help me once again," he asks, pulling the staff over to his counter.

The power rushes up over him like a wave of water as he starts to speak. It's a strange sort of spell, the way it coasts over him, like it's sending sparks into him, a mini electrification that keeps repeating across his body - and keeps getting stronger. He wets his lips and keeps going. He's more used to magic that makes you feel tired as you use too much, but this! This is invigorating. His heart starts to pound. He can feel it against his chest. The electricity feeling makes him cramp, his fingers squeezing at the staff, and then his tongue sticks to his mouth. Wow. It kind of makes it hard to move. Kind of hurts.

Another wave of it grips him, and he pauses, breathing out and giving himself the chance to stop.

But then what will happen? Nothing. Things will keep going as they are. He can't take it. He has to keep going. To keep trying something new.

"I will not be yours," he whispers, and, clearing his throat, speaks the last words of the spell.

Everything explodes with light, blinding him, and a hot, raw pain bursts across him, his whole body lit up with purple markings, his eyes aglow, though he cannot see through them. He gasps and his body tries to crumple, but another wave of it crosses over him, shocking him stiff, unable to even collapse. Still, he clings to the spell, to the magic, vying hard for protection. If he can just get free, nothing else matters. He'll recover later, won't he? If he can just protect himself -

Something sharp clenches down on his ankle and he yells. The different kind of pain snaps him out of everything, and he drops Ramesses's staff, falling to his knees, still blind to all but his own light.

The electricity stops, but he thinks his brain might have short-circuited with it. He feels himself start to shake - maybe even to seize - he drops to the ground -

He loses consciousness to the sound of something scraping at his sigils with its claws.

Marvin wakes to the heavy smell of blood in his nose, and his fingers come up towards it instinctively, shaky and unsure.

"Ungh," he groans, shifting against the cold wood of his shop's backroom. He spits out a mandrake leaf, smacking his tongue at the odorous taste.

Marvin tries to push his glasses back into place, only to find the right temple snapped off its hinge, the glass cracked at the side. He pulls them off his face and sits up.

It makes his head rush painfully. Owch. There's blood all the way from his nose to his chin.

Okay, okay. Fine. He went way too far. Sunday's right, he's pushing too hard. Worse, he's not sure what would have happened if he didn't have that sharp pain.

He pulls his ankle up to himself as he sits down. Wait - that is distinctly a cat bite.

Setting his leg down, he lets his head thump back in surprise. Higgins saved him. Did he know he was in distress, or just get scared by the light and shaking?

"Higgs?" he calls. "You here?"

No little feet come padding towards him. He drags himself onto his feet - his poor head, owch - and stumbles towards the bathroom, washing his face off and swishing water around his mouth to clear out the copper taste.

"Maybe I don't tell Sunday about this," he mutters. He's made himself sick for certain. He won't feel well in the morning either. What's he going to do? Just -- with all of it, what is he doing?

The tears prick up against his will and he scowls at himself in the mirror, brushing at his eyes with the un-bloodied side of a washcloth. He strikes the flat of his palm against the bathroom counter and breathes. He can't let the twins or the council keep misusing their magic. He promised Ramesses he'd find a way.

But honestly, he just really wants to sleep for about twelve years or so. Feels like that would fix everything. Why does all this have to be on his shoulders alone?

"Not crying, we are not crying about this," he announces to himself, tossing the washcloth in the sink and stepping back into his living room. He crashes onto his couch and his head swims again from the movement. He covers his face from the light and breathes out slowly.

"Meow."

It's a very professional little meow, no wailing or pleading involved. Marvin pulls his arm away from his eyes and blinks towards the floor, where Higgins looks up at him carefully.

"Meow," he repeats.

"You want up here?" asks Marvin. He pats the little space beside his stomach. "You can come on."

Higgins doesn't move, peering up at him. He has eyes like a little man sometimes. Marvin prefers him playing, when his pupils get dilated huge and he just looks like the cute dumbass he's supposed to be.

"Yes, alright, I went too far," Marvin sighs. "What, are you angry? I'm sorry."

Higgins wraps his tail daintily around himself, blinking. Marvin sits up with a sigh and reaches for him.

Higgins say "mrrp" a little irritably, but he lets Marvin pull him onto his stomach and set him down there, stroking his head. After a few quiet minutes, Higgins settles and starts to purr gently.

"What a good boy," Marvin murmurs, scratching his ears as he lies back. "Did you know I needed help?"

Higgins looks at him with slitted eyes, rumbling.

"You got me out of that," Marvin continues. "You've never bit me like that before. Did I scare you? I'm sorry."

Higgins gets up slightly and Marvin mourns the loss of the warmth. But his cat doesn't hop off the couch. He just clambers higher up Marvin and pushes his soft head into his neck.

Marvin's face creases and the tears burn his eyes again. He blinks rapidly and wraps his arms around the hot little body of his cat.

"There's my good boy," Marvin rasps, holding him close. "My hero, aren't you? What a good cat."

He hugs Higgins close to him, closing his eyes, and for several minutes interrupted only by steady purring, he does cry. Maybe it's okay. No one's here to see him, and he'll feel better afterwards. Higgins licks the salt from his beard.

"Thank you, lovey," Marvin purrs back to him, scratching his back. "I know someone's got my back, don't I?"

Higgins meows loudly at him and Marvin laughs, wiping his face.

"Yuck, cat breath. You must be hungry. I'll fill your bowl, okay? And I better get something for me, too. Maybe a treat tonight. You think there are delivery places open twenty-four seven?"

Apparently it's not abnormal for someone to want pad see-ew at two in the morning, because his food comes less than fifteen minutes later. It hurts his head to go down the stairs, but it's euphoric to crash on his couch with several hot boxes of takeout arrayed on his coffee table. He puts on a Ghibli flick and spaces out hard, kept in the moment just by the sweet noodles and broccoli, the flashing colors of a movie he's seen a hundred times, and his cat, who jumps right back onto his lap and tries to get his head into the takeout box. Marvin lets him have a little too much chicken, but he's such a good boy, he deserves it. It's nice, really. It's nice to have this cat, purring on his chest as he sinks towards a deep sleep.

He thinks Higgins is asleep too.

Marvin wakes up feeling sick.

"Oh, my darling," he groans, feeling Higgins move as he does. "What did I do last night?"

He sits up slowly, glancing around his living room. He got take-out? He's usually so strict about eating at home. Did he drink?

"Well, I must have," he breathes, standing. He goes to his kitchen, but there's nothing out, no empty bottles or discarded lids. There's nothing in the trash out of the ordinary either. He didn't go out, right? He checks his phone, but he hasn't talked to anyone since yesterday. He wasn't out with friends, and he's sure he had no one over.

He's still trying to figure out what happened as he heads towards the bathroom, but the bloody washcloth in the sink stops him short. Marvin shakes his head, bewildered, and a little worried too, now. What is going on?

Higgins meows at him. He glances down at his cat. Higgins moves between his legs and then, apropos of nothing, puts his little teeth in Marvin's heel.

"Ow! Higgins! You - you bit me..."

He was trying that spell last night. He made himself sick with overuse. Higgins bit his ankle.

"Oh, oh," he whimpers, trying not to spiral. "They have such a grip on my memory I even forgot my own endeavors. They're in my house. In my head. I can't... I can't, I..."

He sinks down to his knees, shaking. His fingers press against the cold tile floor, and he sucks in shaking breaths, the fury and the terror passing over and through him like a great wave of heat.

"No more," he snarls, striking his hand against the floor. "No more of this. I will remember anything they take from me. Again and again, as much as I lose, I will get it back no matter what. I'll remember. And then I'll fight."

He turns his head and presses his hand against his cat's head. Higgins looks up at him with those sharp eyes, his fur soft against the palm of his hand.

"And you're going to help me, aren't you, my darling?"

He really does think that he sees that cat nod in that moment. The oddest part is, it doesn't even really surprise him.

"Right, then," Marvin breathes, his panic clearing. "Right. Back on your feet, Marvin, and no more sulking. Anyway, you got to get the cat fed."

Higgins' eyes dilate and his tail stands straight up. Marvin finds himself laughing despite everything.

"Okay, okay. One thing at a time."

He kisses his cat on the head, and goes to get him his breakfast. The rest will come - and he'll be ready.

#altrverse #higgins the cat #marvin the magnificent #jacksepticeye

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ofallthingsnasty · 9 months ago

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Cowboy croco?? 👀👀

Omg imagine him trying to wife up a cute fat darling 🙏🙏 hot

The thing is, to me he's either some ultra slimy, wicked business type who exploits people ruthlessly and gets them with debts/gag contracts or he's a Dutch Van der Linde (rdr2) guy with his own little group of outlaws (and has his fingers in pots the others do not know about...) - or maybe more like Colm O'Driscoll, but I digress...

Oh, but him having a little crisis - he is cunning and strong, has money and smarts and loyal men and all that, but he also can tell that he's in his mid-40s now. People in that line of 'work' (people in general, back then) aged worse - and I don't mean aesthetically, I mean physically. For all he knows, it's entirely possible for him to be dead this time next year; and he can feel the phantom pain in his lost hand whenever the weather changes more and more with every passing winter. 20 years ago, that quick way of living, that uncertainty didn't bother him at all, no, it added to the thrill of everything. That was the spice his 20s and 30s were made of - when the world was his oyster and the next big thing right around the corner. But now? He's richer than before, more crafty; he knows people and how they work, knows so much yet feels so empty... Going out in a blaze of glory would have been appealing just ten years ago, now it feels shallow and vain. It's not that he wants to settle down either, it's just-

Something is missing. Between almost 30 years on the road, the street, in the wilderness, the reeking towns and cramped cities and him lying and cheating and gunning his way through it all, he has been nothing but made of red-hot iron and fury. Suddenly he's more mellow; his evil oozes more than it spurts and he feels himself longing for something - someone. Someone to apply his little ointments for him, someone who cooks for him, someone who is a base for him whenever he returns from his exploits and so much more. He suddenly finds himself yearning for the comforts a wife provides, those little joys and genuine warmth money can't buy. It's strange, really. Utterly strange and out of character for a man like him. But age turns the best of them into sentimental fools and he doesn't seem to be an exception. He finds himself conjuring up someone in his mind whenever he lords over his whiskey or stares at the moon with a cigarette in hand; how nice just another presence would be, how he could afford a wife, how having someone to adore him might be more tempting than cold metal and gems in his hand. He could have both, he reasons, and experience a sliver of peace his life has never given him so far. He has heard many old men lament the loss of a woman; decades shared toiling together, building together - it never bothered him one bit before; now he wants what he can't have.

So when he spots you - widowed, all out on your own and desperate for money, fat with luxuries your dead husband could provide for you but that are now sorely missing, he sees an opportunity; someone to take advantage of. You're perfect, just made for him: desperate, soft and sweet, with years of homemaking and pleasing underneath your belt. Oh, he'll blind you. Deceive you with a front of charm and expensive clothes, with the promises of a home of your own and food on the table. You'll buy his lies hook, line and sinker - won't question him when he evades your inquiries about his work, won't even have the time to think about just where his rings come from when every day on your own just gets harder and harder because your money is running out. You've got a sweet face; the body of a fat little wife and are worn down enough by misfortune that you cling to him like a drowning cat. You'll only see that you married the devil himself after it's all said and done; that you've been dragged into the life of a horrible criminal who'll leave you widowed again - and with the wolves to come once he's been shot like a fucking dog, someday soon.

#but he is so selfish... he lives in the now... and the now is you warming his bed and washing his clothes and trying to be perfect for him..#/crocodile #/one piece #he'll leave you in a sweet little cabin in a little town and comes around here and there... but as long as he lives you'll be alright #at least financially...#thinking about either hosea from rdr2 who was whipped for his wifey. or micah's old outlaw companion who settled with a wife in strawberry #that's what i'm thinking you know....

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darkkitty1208 · 2 years ago

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Haiii, this is Rikaraholic from ao3. Cam you please write a fic where Stephen gets confused btw timelines when he is tired or sleep deprived. There are many timelines where Stephen, Tony and Peter live together as family. So one day when Peter asks him a doubt relating to Physics, he says this is your dad's area ask him.....Tony and Peter keep on asking him what he meant by that and he tells the truth. Those two re happy to hear about the other timelines and decide to make it true in the real timeline too....

Thank you for hearing my request

Thank you for the prompt! I love the general pattern of requests sent in my ask box lately being "Stephen is a mess. [Character X] deals with this guy." haha XD Quick note: I was in the middle of writing this when I realised your prompt had a more 'fluff' tone to it – as in, it seemed like it was leaning more towards the 'comfort' in hurt/comfort, – but unfortunately I decided to hurt him a bit more than necessary to compensate for the comfort first… I hope I didn't accidentally write something you didn't want/expect? Or maybe I got it wrong and you expected more angst? I dunno. Gets me overthinking.

But I do hope you enjoy this. <3 Sorry it took quite a while.

Beta'd by the awesome and amazing and lovely @harpywritesfic, who made me realise that, perhaps, writing at ungodly hours is not exactly a great idea.

a glimpse through time and space

Stephen was tired.

The battle had been long and exhausting, and the last thing he wanted to do was anything that didn't relate to sleeping in his bed for the next 12 or so hours. His body was aching, and even breathing felt painful. He could feel fatigue clawing up his nerves as the adrenaline died down, suddenly feeling aware of the pain radiating from his wounds that were recently tended to by some of Kamar Taj's healers earlier, rather messily now that he noticed. He could change his bandages later, he thought, somehow mustering up the slightest of strength to cast a (relatively weak) healing spell on himself just in case, as he cast away his robes in exchange for some old and worn thin shirt and loose trousers. He immediately face planted on the mattress with a grunt, ignoring the sting of the cut in his lip, and started drifting away as he felt the cloak settle itself over him like a heavy warm blanket as per usual.

God, he was exhausted.

*.~ ◇ ~.*

Stephen blinked his eyes open, and suddenly he was in the battle against Thanos in New York again. He remembered now, the events that should proceed from here – if his memories served right, that would mean the Avengers had succeeded in their mission to bring back those who had turned to dust during the Snap. Which meant that he, the sorcerers of Kamar Taj, and other allies, had gathered, alongside anyone capable to fight against Thanos, right then and there. His mind snapped back to the present as his body went into a fighting stance almost on its own volition.

Wounded, bloodied, and mostly unmoving bodies littered the battlefield as he trudged through, clangs and blasts of weapons whipping and flailing about in his peripheral vision as they overlapped against the sounds of grunts and shouting echoing in the air.

His instincts kicked in as he raised his defenses, conjuring each blast and whip towards oncoming enemies as the familiar tingle of magic surged through his veins to the tip of his fingers. Almost as if on cue, he heard the recognisable sound of splashing water readying itself to wash over the battlefield, and he turned around, swiftly working his fingers to drive the water away. The liquid danced and swirled in the air, soft blue amongst the stark red of the battlefield, and then everything shifted away as hues of green suddenly flashed before his eyes.

He gasped, the ground seemingly twirling and shifting underneath his feet, and then coming to a still as his now socked feet stood at wooden floorboards in – he looked around – the lake house.

Lake house. Of course, he was in the lake house. He remembered now, the battle had ended in Titan, everyone was safe and well and together and alive–

He shook his head. Of course everyone was alive. Why wouldn't they be?

Peter and Tony were lounging on the couch in different positions in front of the telly. He noticed a cup of steaming tea on the countertop in front of him, and carefully lifted it with trembling fingers to walk over and place it on the table in front of where his family sat. He groaned as he settled himself firmly beside Tony, Peter scooting over to the side to make space. The engineer's arm automatically slung itself behind his shoulders, and he leaned back, to the side, and pressed an instinctive kiss towards the man's temple.

Looking towards the television screen, he stared as whoever had messed up yet again in their dish last minute before Gordon Ramsay announced their time was over. He turned his head to stare at Tony, who noticed him and gave him a gentle smile. And then he felt the weight of Peter's head laying itself on his shoulder.

This is where he was meant to be. It felt right. He felt like he fit right in. Like a missing piece inside of him was found, like something clicked in his head as he realised that, in that moment, he was safe and comfortable and utterly complete.

Everything was perfect.

He looked at the television again as Gordon Ramsay shouted at the chef's mistake. Seems like they accidentally served raw meat again.

And then the screen froze and turned into black and white dots that danced all over the television screen.

He frowned, shifted in his seat, and then looked towards Tony, then to Peter, both seemingly unaffected by this. His frown deepened at that.

And then an almost terrifying ringing, static sound emitted from the television, steadily growing louder as he continued to try getting a reaction out of the other two. He waved a hand in front of Tony's face, called out the engineer's name, shook Peter's shoulder, panicking when no response was given.

Something was wrong.

He very nearly flinched when Tony began laughing out of the blue, eyes still fixed at the screen. Peter followed soon after with a giggle of his own, pointing at something in front of him.

Something was definitely wrong.

The static sound grew louder, and it became almost unbearable. Too loud. The laughs coming from his family– family? When did he have a family? He was alone. He was–

He couldn't remember anymore. What was happening? Where was he? His eyes flicked around, to the laughing figures beside him, to the static screen in front of him, his peripheral vision blurring as his throat suddenly felt constricted, breathing suddenly laboured.

The ringing grew louder. It felt as if he could hear it in his ears. The laughter continued even as he dropped off the couch, even as he stood up, even as he ran towards the nearest door he could find. He quickly pulled the door open with shaking hands, and just when he felt like his ears were about to bleed, a flash of white blinding light assaulted his vision.

He blinked his eyes back open again. It was blurry, almost as if he were half conscious, but the continuous sound of ringing was slowly fading into the background to be replaced by the steady thumps of his heart beating in his ears. There were vague silhouettes looming over him that he couldn't seem to make out.

Where was he again? What was he doing?

His vision stuttered to a focus as he blinked his eyes a couple times, and then he noticed who those figures were.

Pepper, Rhodey, Peter, Happy, a little girl, the rest of the avengers… but someone was missing. No, more than one person was missing.

Natasha. Tony.

He looked down at himself.

He was wearing a tuxedo. The air around him somehow smelled vaguely like… flowers. But oddly enough, the scent was nothing like the sweet scent of roses – it was sharp and musky and wet and pungent like… like marigolds.

"You killed them," the little girl said, almost as if she was reading his mind.

"You killed them," the rest repeated.

"I– I don't know what–"

"You killed them," they said again, and started to chant the words over and over. Stephen stared, panic rising as confusion clouded his mind. He stumbled to the ground when they stepped nearer, the chanting somehow becoming louder now.

There were more people gathering around now, hundreds of them joining to chant the accusation; some he recognised, others not so much.

"You killed them. You killed them. You killed them–"

He crawled back frantically, breathing hard in quick, stuttered breaths.

"Stop, wait–" he let out a shaking palm, "I didn't– stop! I didn't do it! I didn't–"

He placed his head in his hands, pulled at his hair, curled into a ball on the ground as his breaths came out in wheezes.

Still, the chanting continued.

He was confused. What was happening? Where was he? What was he doing here? And why are all these people accusing him of– of–

Stephen woke up with a gasp, jolting up from his bed with wide eyes as he panted for breath, the voices of their chants still echoing in the back of his head. The cloak bristled and swished over to the side to give him space at the sudden movement. He carded trembling fingers through his graying hair, pupils flicking hastily around the room. He clenched them shut, trying to steady his breath, body still shaking as he flopped back down to the bed with a soft thump.

It was just a dream.

It wasn't real.

None of it was.

He fluttered his eyes back open, inhales and exhales trembling and stuttering out of his mouth, but slowing down with – (un)surprisingly – practiced ease as he stared at the marks and cracks of the ceiling. The blanket was in a haphazard heap at the corner of his bed, and the cloak levitated steadily in the air beside him, looming over him and somehow managing to look concerned. He ignored it, instead focusing on the ceiling once more.

He glanced towards the window, noticing that the light streaming through the edges of the curtains were more like the yellowish orange hue of streetlights in a parking lot rather than the light blue of dawn. He glanced at the clock at his bedside table. He didn't get more than 3 hours worth of rest.

He sighed. He needed more sleep, he thought, and declined his body's wishes to just stand up and start the day early. He didn't know how long he laid there – sweating, breathing, staring at the ceiling, mind wandering places he refused to go, constantly shaking his head to rid off the images of various memories flashing across his mind – trying to get some more sleep. At some point Bohemian Rhapsody repeated in his head in a constant loop, blasting in the back of his mind even as he tried to stop it. Closing his eyes and focusing on the darkness behind his eyelids – don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it – didn't work much, either. Bohemian Rhapsody was soon replaced by Rasputin in his attempt to stop the loop, and that was much worse.

He grumbled in frustration, flailing, tossing, and turning all over his bed in search of a position that could help him sleep better. He even started counting in his head; with sheeps jumping over fences and all. When that didn't work either, he filtered out other sounds around him to focus on his breathing, distracting himself with the steady rise and fall of his chest.

He snapped his eyes back open when none of those worked. He stared at the cloak beside him, still swaying about in the air, expecting him to do something. Stephen sighed, frustratedly, and gave up.

There was no point in trying to go back to sleep. Not when he's just had… no, don't think about it. He shook his head, standing up, having to place his hand on the bedside table to steady himself when the abrupt movement caused a momentary blindness in his vision. One of these days he would just have to risk walking through the darkness and hope to the Gods he won't end up falling into oblivion or hitting random objects around him.

He trudged through the hallways, the cloak settling over his shoulders in comfort as he clutched its edges with trembling fingers to cover his chest and body like a human-sized (and red?) burrito. The cloak wrapped tighter around him securely in response. He walked down to the kitchen when he felt his stomach grumble. When was the last time he had a meal again? He was pretty sure he had a sandwich with Wong in the afternoon… No, in the morning. He had barely any time to eat or drink yesterday due to the sudden attack. His stomach grumbled again in protest, and he sighed, silently cursing at his own human and bodily needs.

He opened the fridge, searching around for food. There were vegetables he bought last week, definitely rotten now, and threw them away. There was milk, but it had become – he frowned – less… liquid-ish. Pouring it into a bowl, it seemed to stick when he touched it with a finger, even stretching up when he lifted said finger. Had a gooey-like texture to it. He tasted it a bit, nearly puking at the taste, and then immediately slamming it into the bin. Nothing else was in the fridge other than some… things he had gotten during his 'trips' that needed to be refrigerated. The jar of eyeballs he kept at the door of the refrigerator stared at him expectantly, silently mocking him and the mess he had grown to become. He glared back at them, and then shut the door of the fridge rather loudly in annoyance.

Rummaging through the cabinets, he found a jar of jam. He made a 'huh' sound, opened the lid, grabbed a spoon, took some of it out, and gave a tentative lick. His face immediately scrunched up at the taste, turning the jar over to check the expiry date. It was tomorrow. Was it tomorrow already? He made another 'huh' sound. In the trash, it went.

He searched some more, trying to find something for his early breakfast. Or late dinner…? He supposed it was more like a midnight snack. But no, wait, he was counting this as a meal. Midnight meal, then…? He shrugged. Midnight meal, it is.

There was some old bread, but some inspection resulted in finding a… green… thing… on it. Several, even. In different areas. Definitely throwing that out, too.

God, he really wanted that sandwich he had with Wong again. Would it be weird to go down to the deli at this hour? He supposed it– wait. Sandwich. He had leftovers from his last sandwich, he remembered now. He turned over to the fridge again to see if he had– his eyes caught the sandwich wrapping on top of the counter.

Ah. It had been on the countertop. It had been on the countertop overnight. For hours, laying there. Apparently he had forgotten to put it in the fridge. He made another 'huh' sound. Well, it's probably gone nasty now. In the trash again.

He leaned his elbows on the countertop, sighing, tousling his hair with both hands. God, he was a mess. What had led to this? He shook his head, continuing his journey to find food for this 'midnight meal'.��

He found cereal in one of the cabinets, bought the same week, not expired, and definitely not tasting like it. He cheered silently, giggling a bit to himself in the small, momentary joy of successfully finding the not-expired-cereal. It was even enough to last for the entirety of the day if he wished so. He grabbed a bowl, a (different) spoon, and tried not to think about how weird it was to be eating cereal, without milk, in the dark, at the dead of the night.

He had been in weirder situations before, he supposed.

*.~ ◇ ~.*

He immediately locked himself in the Sanctum's library after the 'midnight meal' (after some fiddling with the badly wrapped bandages around his last injuries – seriously, he wasn't the egotistical doctor he used to be, but these people could be truly incompetent sometimes), thinking it was best to kill time by reading rather than attempting to sleep again. He's had quite enough of that. His mind was still rather sluggish, like some sort of brain fog, eyes droopy and heavy but never really tired enough to sleep. It was confusing and exhausting and utterly tiring.

At some point he had made himself a cup of tea, continued reading, tea again, reading, and when it reached his fifth cup of tea that morning, there was a bristling to the hair of his nape as he sensed the Sanctum opening its doors to welcome a familiar guest inside.

"Mister Doctor Sorcerer Supreme Stephen Strange Sir?"

He chuckled at the voice that came from downstairs, immediately stepping out and levitating down the staircase to greet the teen.

"Hello, Peter. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He hoped to God his croaky voice didn't give out how tired he was.

Peter had been swinging by the Sanctum rather frequently now – had he been? It was hard to remember when his memories were all flicking around and messily stacking against each other in confusion – occasionally to ask favours like helping him in doing homework.

"I um– so there's this…" he lifted up a notebook that was held in his hands, "it's uh–" he bit his lip, shifting in his feet as he tried and struggled to ask for the help he needed. Stephen took pity on the boy and stepped forward to gently take the notebook off the teen's hands, inspecting it.

It was a bunch of numbers and equations and… diagrams? He understood some of it, but not enough to actually answer the question it was asking. (If it was actually asking a question in the first place. There was a question mark down there, though, so maybe it did have a question.)

God, he was getting old. Where was his photographic memory when he needed it most?

This was more of Tony's area, he thought.

"This… this is more of your dad's area, Petey. Ask him instead."

Peter frowned. Stephen froze.

"My… dad? My dad is… He's…"

"–I meant Tony! Ask Tony," Stephen hurried to clarify.

"Mr. Stark? But he's not my–"

"Alright, bye bye."

In his panic, he teleported Peter to the front of the Sanctum's doors, which closed shut immediately upon his mental command. The boy yelped at the sudden change of position, but didn't seem to attempt going back inside. Stephen sighed, and even he was confused if it was a sigh of relief or of frustration.

It was probably both, he decided, and then went back upstairs to continue his cycle of reading-tea-reading-tea until Wong dragged him out to the Kamar Taj courtyard for teaching and the sort.

*.~ ◇ ~.*

Peter couldn't stop thinking about it. Ever since his last visit to the Sanctum, when Stephen had implied that Mr. Stark was his 'dad', the word had been swirling over in his head in a constant loop for days.

'Dad' was what he had said, loud and clear, unmistakable. What had it meant? Was there something Stephen (or Mr. Stark?) wasn't telling him? Was there something he didn't know?

Now that he thought about it, Stephen did look a bit troubled last time. He wondered what problems the sorcerer was facing – maybe it had just been a mistaken slip. Maybe he was just overthinking it. Maybe Stephen was just tired – and probably sleep-deprived, by the looks of it (if those dark bags under his eyes that made him look like Mr. Stark after days cooped up in the lab was any indication) – and he had just accidentally said it without meaning a thing. Yeah, that could be it.

But why 'dad'? The word was so peculiar and out of the blue, it was almost impossible that Stephen had mistakenly said it. Sure, Peter had his own fair share of accidentally calling his teachers 'mom', but that was beside the point; what had it meant?

He had tried texting Stephen to ask about it, but received no response regardless of however many times he had spammed the question. (He was never one to prefer calling – calls are for urgent things. He didn't want to demand Stephen's time and not give him a choice but to answer.) Which was why, the next time he saw Mr. Stark, he had gathered up the courage to explain the matter to the engineer.

"Dad?" Tony said, a frown on his face. "Ya sure the wizard said 'dad'? You didn't, I don't know, heard him wrong or something?"

"Yeah," Peter said, just as confused. "I'm sure I heard him right. He kicked me out of the Sanctum after that. Well, not like– 'kicked me out', more like," Peter looked down, eyebrows scrunched in thought, and then lifted his head to his mentor again, "like magically kicked me out?"

Tony's frown deepened.

"You mean teleported you out?"

"Yeah but like– like with magic," he explained, making unnecessary gestures with his hands. "Doesn't matter– point is," again with the hand flailing, "I… don't know what he meant by that. Maybe you, I don't know… Know something about this, Mr. Stark?" Peter bit his bottom lip, waiting for the billionaire's answer, who was currently frowning in either confusion or… something else. He couldn't tell when those indoor-worn glasses were on.

"No. I don't actually know. What happened when he realised he said it?"

Peter pursed his lips.

"I think he looked like he sort of panicked?" Peter replied, "And then he immediately magically kicked-teleported me out of the Sanctum."

Tony hummed.

"Should we go ask him instead?" Peter suggested, clearly too embarrassed to ask the sorcerer alone. With Mr. Stark beside him, the likeliness of getting an answer out of the doctor seemed larger – or maybe the opposite? He didn't know that much about their relationship, but Mr. Stark and Dr. Strange seemed to really like each other's company. They may bicker about like an old married couple sometimes, but all the (dare he say… flirty?) banter they had definitely indicated friendship. Or maybe more than that… That was an interesting thought. He would have to save that for later, though.

"Yeah, sure," was Tony's reply, which took Peter quite a while to digest what for because his mind seemed to be a bit distracted by the memory of Tony and Stephen standing in the donut spaceship or whatever thing, face to face in front of a perfectly lit view of space and stars outside, breath a mere inch from each other as he dangled about at the ship's ceiling.

An interesting thought, indeed.

*.~ ◇ ~.*

The moment Wong had given Stephen a proper look that day, he knew it would be One of Those Days, or so Stephen usually called, where the sorcerer wouldn’t be in… top-notch condition. Which was why, when he came back from the deli to bring back sandwiches for the two of them, he wasn’t exactly surprised to find Stephen sprawled out on the couch, practically unconscious, bags under his eyes – snoring, even. He wasn’t unused to the snoring, per se, but dear Gods above, was it loud.

But in all honesty, he’d rather suffer the wrath of Stephen’s snoring rather than having him fall face first or collapse on the ground in the middle of nowhere. And then having to drag him (or levitate him, who knows) around (again).

Yes, this was definitely better. Infinitely.

But when Stephen mumbled a bit in his sleep and then continued to snore louder, Wong had to suppress a groan and reconsider his life choices. God help him.

Just as he was about to place Stephen’s sandwich in the refrigerator – dammit Stephen, not the jar of eyeballs again – he felt a tingle in the constantly thrumming magic around him and in the walls, signaling that the Sanctum’s doors had opened on its own volition. He furrowed his brows, and then moved to see who had managed to infiltrate their home.

“Um, hello? Doctor Strange?" Ah. It was Peter. There was a man beside the teen who was wearing sunglasses, and Wong had to suppress a snort when he realised who he was. Of course it was Stark. Looking in Stephen's direction, he noticed the sorcerer had fallen off the couch and was gleefully sleeping on the floor, the snoring slightly muffled now as his face was squashed against the wood.

Tony stepped closer, frown visible even beneath the sunglasses.

"Doc?" he called out, and then turned to Wong, "Is he alive?"

Wong shrugged.

"Mostly."

Peter took tentative steps closer, kneeled beside the sorcerer's prone body, and nudged Stephen a bit with his hand. Stephen flinched upon the contact and jolted up with wide eyes, before realisation glinted in them as his mind registered the fact that he wasn't in or going to be in harm's way.

But then his eyes flicked to Tony, and then Wong, the both of them looming over him, and then to the kneeling teen in front of him. He then looked down at where his body had draped over the floor, limbs tangled in a complicated position, somehow being half on the floor and half on the couch. He winced silently, face reddening at his overall position. He stood up, tried not to be visibly disturbed by the black spots dancing in his vision, and straightened himself.

Stephen cleared his throat.

"Good morning sunshine," Tony said, and silently prided himself at the slight, fleeting smirk it received from Wong, "How was the floor?"

"Cold," Stephen replied bluntly, "Do not recommend, by the way. A zero out of ten," he shifted his feet, awkwardly flitting his eyes at the three of them. "So what brought you here, Peter?" He refused his mind's almost instinctual request to use the word love, the endearment burning at the tip of his tongue, "And you, Stark." Tony.

Wong saw the look Peter sent his way, the hesitant and silent request, and sighed. He said his excuses to Stephen, then made a portal to Kamar Taj to leave the three of them alone.

*.~ ◇ ~.*

Needless to say, Stephen had expected the both of them to ask about the slight slip he made the other day. He knew avoiding it would just be futile, especially with two stubborn heads involved, but that didn’t mean he was prepared for it.

"You told him?" Stephen asked, knowing it was inevitable in the beginning, but never been very sure of his judgement now compared to his past self. He’s learnt that many things could go in many ways, end up in many outcomes. He’s learnt since a very long time ago that Time was not to be trusted and Fate not to be believed in. He’s learnt since a very long time ago about the consequences of knowing and the reality of truth.

"Yeah, he did," Tony said, bringing his mind to the present, "Now tell us. What was it about?"

Stephen stared at them. The way they sat, the way they talked, their patterns… Every one of them were seared in his damned photographic memory of a mind, like an almost cursed blessing. He lifted his cup, tasting the warmth of the tea as it slid down his throat, the bittersweet scent of it. Stalling his time, he was sure it was obvious but didn’t seem to care, as he contemplated his answer to the question.

He breathed in.

He couldn't take it anymore. There were too many of them, too much of them playing like a broken tape in his head every day and every night, and he couldn't keep it in any longer. All of it has made his mind spill over like a leaking faucet, everything melding and mashing into a confused mess that has him struggling.

He knew the truth would set him free, but not until it was done with him.

He placed the cup gently back down on the table, and heard the clink of ceramic against oak.

"The timelines," he said, voice raw against his own volition, finally admitting, "I.. It was the timelines."

"Timelines," Tony repeated. "The 14 million…"

"Yes," he said. "In those timelines, we…” he was making a mistake, he knew it, but he couldn’t help it, not with them. Not with the two people he’s spent most of his life – the unreal and unlived part of his life, he reminded himself – with them. But still, he needed them to know. He needed them to see. He couldn’t bear lying anymore (because keeping the truth locked away still counted as lying, did it not?), and with them most especially.

He took in a breath that slightly stuttered, composing himself as he chose his next words carefully.

There was no going back now.

“We were… we were together, as… as a family, in a few of those timelines."

"A few?" Peter scooted to the edge of his seat.

Stephen gulped, eyes clenched shut, memories flashing beneath them. It began and it went, it started and it passed. Each flickering amongst the other, overlapping, fighting against the gates that guarded his sanity. Constantly shifting, constantly echoing, constantly breaking.

Each a lying truth, each a hopeless hope, each a fateless fate.

"A majority," he said, and tried to keep the flashing memories at bay.

"A family…" Tony silently said, a mere whisper, but hope burned at the edges of his words. "We were a family."

"We could've been." he said, and that was it, wasn't it? Could have, would have, should have.

"Peter, you, and I." Stephen stared at his hands, at the scars on them. On the way it trembled, the way it shook like those memories did. It was a part of him, the both of them. His hands, his mind, they were one.

"We could still be," Peter said, hopeful yet hesitant, tentative yet sure, and Stephen had to take a moment to process that.

He lifted his head towards the teen, saw the glint of faith, the promise of more. He's seen the same look on the mirror before, he thought, and something in him clicked at the way it reflected in the boy's eyes.

"Could we?" he whispered, afraid of his own voice, of his own words. Afraid of the hope he might've slipped into them, of the longing.

Tony stared at him, his expression soft and open. And the next words that slipped out of his mouth whispered of promise.

"We could try."

Flashes of red burned across his mind, the sound of a snap echoing across a battlefield. The sound of laughter played like a broken record in his ears, the memory of brown eyes under the sun, of bronze skin wrinkling from a smile, the tingle of nostalgia and the yearning of a life that never really existed clawing at his mind, at his chest, in him.

Try. Stephen Strange wasn't a man that believed in fate, but he believed in trying.

Hhhnnngggg not exactly proud of how this turned out and I dunno if I did your prompt justice but, I can’t seem to find the willingness to rewrite it. ^^’’ I would also feel bad to prolong my response to your prompt. I hope you enjoyed this, though?

Also on AO3

#ironstrange #fanfic #stephen strange #tony stark #peter parker #supreme family #my fic #my writing #prompt fill #ask #rikaraholic #winchesterstarkstrange

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sunsoakedhighhopes · 5 months ago

Text

Amazing Spider-Man 01

Okay, so after his introduction in Amazing Fantasy, there was enough of a response, so he got his own comic run. The first issue contained two stories. They call the second story a "bonus" story, but really it's just a continuation of the story, but maybe they meant it was a double issue or something.

I was kind of surprised they moved right into the Spider-Man being a menace storyline, but that's pretty much the plotline of this first half -- the introduction of J Jonah Jameson, and him turning public opinion against Spider-Man.

We begin with a short recap of Peter's introduction in Amazing Fantasy. Then we find out that with Uncle Ben now dead, the Parkers are having money troubles. The landlord comes knocking on the door and Aunt May begs him to give them another week to pay the rent. Peter offers to get a job, but May won't let him because she wants him to focus on his studies. Peter briefly considers using his powers to resort to a life of crime, but quickly decides against it, noting that it would break May's heart if he ever got arrested.

Instead of robbing banks, Peter decides to go back to performing his powers on TV (and in front of a live audience). Then we get the following amazing interaction.

The producer goes to pay Peter, but he has to pay him with a check so there's a tax record (I don't think this is true - I think the bigger issue is Peter's lack of a social security number but alright...) So, he asks Peter for his name. Peter obviously can't give his real name if he's going to maintain his secret identity as Spider-Man, so he instructs the man to fill the check out to "Spider-Man". The producer agrees, for some reason, though he does note that Peter will likely have a hard time cashing the check. Peter, in his infinite teenaged wisdom is like, "Nah, I'm good."

And then he gets to the bank....

I love how the bank teller is willing to accept an ID that says "Spiderman" like this is a totally normal thing.

To make matters even worse, Jameson is busy at that very moment typing up an article about Spiderman, with the express purpose of trying to run him out of town.

Which.... Why?? Like, he literally hasn't done anything yet, except for crawling around on ceilings and swinging from webs on TV. Why is Jameson so pressed?

Peter shows up at the TV station again -- even though he still hasn't figured out the check issue -- only to find out he's been cancelled, both professionally and culturally.

I'm with Peter on this one. Does J. Jonah Jameson just hate fun??

Next we get a clip of Jameson on TV, where, okay, so his issue is the robber/murderer (the one who killed Ben) that Peter caught and turned over to the police in his origin story. "We cannot allow that masked menace to take the law into his own hands," which is kind of a gross exaggeration of what happened, but okay. I mean, the cops were already after the guy, and technically he only did the exact thing the cop asked him to do the first time. He also, apparently, has a "Think of the Children!" complaint that kids might try to imitate his "fantastic feats" that they watch him do on TV, which.... Jameson, you are going to struggle with the future cause there's gonna be a lot of this kind of stuff on TV and in movies.

Oh, but then he says the children should be looking up to real heroes, like his son, John Jameson, the test pilot/astronaut who's about to go into orbit around the earth, and now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure this character was in the first Sam Raimi movie? As MJ's boyfriend?? I keep trying to picture it, but all my mind will conjure up is Paul Rudd dressed in his astronaut costume from the ball scene in Romeo + Juliet. So, that's what I'm picturing when I read this comic. Anyway, Jameson is just one of those overbearing helicopter parents that thinks their child is the most specialist special that ever specialed, is what I'm trying to say here.

Peter wonders why The Fantastic Four and Ant-Man aren't having these kinds of troubles, and hey, today I learned, Ant-Man predates Spider-Man.

Peter tries to get a job, presumably behind Aunt May's back, but no one wants to hire a high school kid. While he's out, he sees May going into a pawn shop where she pawns her jewelry in order to make rent, so he has a mild temper tantrum, where it seems like he's considering that life of crime idea again.

He doesn't get the chance though, because John Jameson launches into orbit, and unfortunately for him, the forward guidance package breaks loose from the capsule that he's in, and the capsule begins erratically falling back to Earth. NASA maybe, and idk, the military -- a bunch of important men standing around in suits are all like "Oooh... yeah, no this is really not good. Too bad there's nothing we can do about it." They have a replacement unit, but no way to give it to him as he hurtles back to earth.

That's okay, because Peter, as Spider-Man, is here to save the day. Jameson is charming as ever in his gratitude that someone is trying to save his son's life. Oh, wait, no he's not.

Spider-Man heads for an airfield, where he commandeers and airplane. Then he leaps from the flying airplane onto the falling capsule and replaces the guidance unit, allowing the capsule to land safely.

Oh, Peter, that is... that is adorably naive of you.

Jameson is successful in getting everyone to hate Spider-Man (including Aunt May!) and eventually the FBI caves to public pressure and puts out a wanted poster.

I actually love that they think the average person would know where to find the "nearest FBI Office".

I feel like there's a social statement being made here....

#marvel comics #marvel 616 #peter parker #spider-man #spiderman #spider man #stevie reads comics

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bi-naesala · 1 year ago

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A way to relax

(Kinktober day 10: NTR | Fucking Machine | Praise Kink)

Trans Akihiko, First Time, Blowjobs, Cunnilingus, Praise Kink

Between Shadows and exams, Junpei feels extremely stressed, but luckily for him, Akihiko has a solution that might help him.

(AO3 link)

(Fic under the cut)

Junpei has no idea how they’ve gone from just having a normal conversation inside his room – something about how this last period has been stressful for them, between fighting Shadows and studying for finals – to Akihiko kneeling between his legs, eagerly sucking his cock. Something about finding a way to relax, maybe?

Oh well, it would be rude of him to complain, considering how good Akihiko is making him feel. It’s definitely messier than he thought something like this would be, but hey, he doesn’t mind! Actually, he can’t help but to be attracted by the mess Akihiko’s making: he can’t stop looking at the spit trickling down his chin.

“S-Senpai…” he moans, bucking his hips up, making Akihiko almost choke on his dick, but he pulls through.

“Sorry…” he mutters, then.

Akihiko pulls away from his cock – there’s a line connecting his lips from the tip of his cock that is driving Junpei crazy – and shakes his head.

“It’s fine,” he says, voice rougher than usual. “Just be careful.”

Junpei nods, and that seems to be enough for Akihiko, who resumes the task at hand. It’s hard for him not to move again, as the other’s lips engulf his cock once more, but he does his best to remain still in order not to cause him any discomfort; sure, he told him that he can do it, if he’s careful, but frankly Junpei doesn’t really trust himself and his ability to hold back. He’d rather keep still than having a pissed off Akihiko telling him off because he’s made him actually choke.

Who would be taking care of him, then? Doing it alone would be just too sad.

… Fuck, Akihiko’s too good at this.

Where has he learned? Has he even learned it from somewhere, or is this his first time? If that’s the case, he deserves a prize, and a big one too.

“So good…”

It’s something Junpei’s said in the heat of the moment – that doesn’t mean that it’s not true, however – but it has an effect on Akihiko that he wouldn’t have expected: he moans, first things first, causing Junpei to shiver at the feeling of the vibrations around his cock, and starts bobbing his head up and down even faster, as if those words had completely replenished all his energy.

Junpei wants to hide.

He doesn’t even know why he feels so embarrassed, probably because he’s not acting macho at all, whimpering and moaning as Akihiko does literal magic on his cock.

Even the idea of trying to hold back, however, feels impossible, and there goes Junpei again, praising Akihiko and getting the same reaction as before. It intrigues him, how that works, but he’s too overwhelmed to actually do anything about it, except to keep saying how good Akihiko is being, because it sounds sexy when he does it.

What isn’t sexy, however, is how close he already is to climaxing. He swears they’ve started, like, five minutes ago! Or maybe it just feels like five minutes; maybe it’s more.

There’s no way in hell he can’t hold back, though, no matter how much he’d want to drag this out further – a shame, though.

“Gonna shoot!” Junpei manages to warn him, just in time for Akihiko to pull away, right before he comes.

It lands on the other’s face, painting his chin and cheeks white. It’s… a look, one that will definitely haunt Junpei’s nights, when he’ll be all alone, hand around his cock, trying to conjure up a scenario to get his little guy interested.

The more he looks at him, the more he feels the need to do something.

He wants to, and very badly too… but can he… should he…?

Fuck it, he thinks, before helping Akihiko up and kissing him. He cringes a bit at his own taste on the other’s lips, but he endures – still, it’s definitely better than how he thought kissing a guy could be.

It’s then that he’s hit by a thought: shouldn’t he reciprocate?

It would be bad not to, but where should he even begin?

He tentatively puts his hands on Akihiko’s hips, but he must’ve understood what he wants to do, because he pulls away and he says:

“You don’t have to do it.”

Junpei’s nerves almost make him say “okay” and leave it at that, but no, he won’t!

“I want to,” he replies, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

Akihiko mumbles something that Junpei doesn’t quite understand, but from the looks of it, it mustn’t be anything good.

“Um, what?”

“I said,” Akihiko repeats, “That I won’t last that long anyway…”

Really?

Did he really get close just by giving a blowjob? Is this because he told him that he was being good?

… Wow.

That’s not something Junpei expected, but boy doesn’t that get him fired up like crazy.

He lets Akihiko lay down on the bed, settling then between his legs. Maybe he should go slower in the way he unzips his pants and pulls them off, but he can’t help himself! Akihiko, at least, seems to be into it, which is a relief.

He has to admit that he’s a bit nervous, but then his gaze lowers to his pussy and… he feels his mouth water.

He wasn’t kidding when he said that he wouldn’t last long: he’s drenched!

Junpei licks his lips.

“Senpai… Can I…”

Akihiko bites his lips, before nodding.

“Go on.”

Junpei gives his pussy a tentative lick.

His juices are denser than he thought they’d be, more like a mucus, but he doesn’t find himself too grossed out. He could get used to it, actually.

Akihiko’s body twitches at the feeling of his tongue in such a sensitive place. Junpei gives him another lick, and this time, he moans.

“Good?” Junpei can’t help but to ask.

“Yeah. Please, Junpei…”

He doesn’t let him finish before going back to business, finding a tentative rhythm to keep. From the sound of Akihiko’s voice, he must be doing something right, because he can’t stop moaning; he even reaches out for him at some point, pushing him from the back of his head further against his cunt, rubbing against his tongue.

“So good…”

It’s then that Junpei discovers something about himself: he likes the praise.

Well, maybe it’s not that surprising, but he certainly wasn’t expecting a wave of pleasure to come crash through his entire body just from hearing that he’s being good.

“Yeah?” he asks, pulling away just briefly to be able to talk. Maybe he’s an asshole, for fishing for compliments like that, but… he wants to hear it again.

“Yeah…” Akihiko moans and confirms, barely holding it together. He swallows, then he continues. “G-Good boy…”

Shit.

Junpei can’t deny it: he’s aroused, again. All it takes are a couple of strokes for his cock to get fully hard for the second time, that evening.

He goes back to eating Akihiko out, wanting to elicit other sounds out of him, sounds that he doesn’t fail to deliver, fueling Junpei more and more.

Are the others hearing them, from outside? He doesn’t know, but there’s a part of him that kind of wishes they are: that way, everyone would know the Junpei’s great even in bed.

“Like that, Junpei! Ah! F-Fu… So good…”

He shivers, trying his best to keep sucking on Akihiko’s clit while also pumping his shaft. He seems to be so close to the edge and, honestly, so does he.

His eyes are peeled on his face, observing the way his brow furrows and his lips hang open.

Soon, he feels a pair of thighs close around his head, as Akihiko comes. For a moment, he fears he’ll suffocate, but weirdly enough, this only gets him closer to the edge.

It doesn’t last long: soon, Akihiko’s body goes limp, letting Junpei go – he can breathe again – and only then he notices that he’s masturbating.

“Junpei…” he beckons him, and he doesn’t let him repeat himself twice, moving up to kiss him, letting him wrap his hand around his cock and jerk it off at a furious pace.

He feels so close, and yet…

“Say it again.”

“W-What?” Akihiko asks, confused. Of course, he doesn’t get it.

Powering through the humiliation – he hoped he wouldn’t have to actually say it – he answers:

“That I’m a good boy. Please…”

“Yeah, yeah, I can do that…” Akihiko mumbles, before saying, without hesitation, “Junpei… Good boy.”

It doesn’t take anything else for him to come. A bit lame, but whatever, it feels good so it doesn’t matter.

He has to appeal to his entire willpower not to collapse on Akihiko, but he manages. Instead, he collapses right beside him.

It’s still hard to wrap his head around what has just happened, and also how he’s reacted to certain… stimuli, just like Akihiko has.

Huh, maybe they’re not so different after all.

… Okay, but what now?

Sure, they’ve just fucked, but how should they behave with each other now?

Have things changed between them? Or are they the same?

If they’ve changed, is it a good kind of change, or bad? Is it weird?

How can he even tell?

“Better?”

“Huh?”

There’s a tired smile on Akihiko’s face as he speaks.

“You were feeling nervous before we… well.” He looks away. “So, do you feel better, now?”

It’s then that Junpei realizes that things don’t have to change between them, unless they want them to. In the end, this was a way to relax, to unwind.

“Yeah, I’m much better, thanks.”

He can’t help but to wonder if they’re ever going to do this again.

To tell the truth, he wouldn’t mind that, though he supposes he shouldn’t get too ahead of himself.

Eventually, he’ll have his answer, he’s sure of it.

#kinktober 2023 #akijun #akihiko sanada #junpei iori #persona 3 #p3 #persona #my fics #mine #nsft #spicy

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casspurrjoybell-20 · 5 months ago

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FOOLS - Chapter 11 - Part 1

BOOK ONE: The 'Fools Fall in Love' Trilogy

*Warning Adult Content*

Samuel Moretti

That didn't happen, right?

What happened at the movie theater between Noah and I did not happen, right?

But it definitely looked like he looked down at my lips.

I saw him lean into me... hadn't I?

'Ah.'

I didn't know what to think as I laid awake that night.

Noah had a girlfriend.

That was the cold, hard truth.

So, maybe Noah just got caught up in the moment.

I mean, we were alone.

We were sharing popcorn from the same bucket.

The lighting was dim.

It was no doubt a date-like setting and Noah very well had just been confused.

Or, I'm reading too much into it.

Like I always did.

Maybe he looked down at my hand that was still on his face and maybe it was me who leaned in.

It all happened so fast and yet so painfully slow, my brain couldn't conjure the truth.

So, the next day at lunch when I spotted Noah walking up to the table, I had planned to talk to him about it. I needed answers, right?

But as soon as he set his backpack down next to me at our table and I opened my mouth to speak, he cut me off.

"Hey, I'll be right back," he told me quickly.

"Uh, okay," and I watched him catch up to Kaitlyn in the lunch line.

His girlfriend.

Noah had a girlfriend.

I decided to forget the almost-kiss and I never brought it up.

Noah Wright

What the fuck was last night?

That question was sweeping over my brain all night like a tidal wave.

I was drowning in it.

Fuck, I didn't even want to sit by Sam.

I had a nauseous feeling in my stomach because I just knew Sam would bring it up and that was the absolute last thing I wanted.

I wanted to forget me almost kissing him.

I needed Kaitlyn.

She'd clear my mind of the Sam fog.

I haven't spent much time with her lately, I was deprived and wanting.

That's what it was.

So I surveyed the lunchroom, scanning my eyes for a familiar blonde and I spotted her in the lunch line.

I walked up to our regular table, where Sam was sitting alone and set my backpack down.

He opened his mouth to speak but before a word could get out, I told him

"Hey, I'll be right back."

"Uh, okay," I heard him say in a slightly dejected tone as I left and went up to the lunch line, where my girlfriend was waiting.

"Hey beautiful," I greeted Kaitlyn as I cut in line to stand next to her.

I wasn't going to get anything, so all those stupid fucking juniors who were giving me the ugliest glare, needed to chill the fuck out.

"Hey," she smiled and pecked me on the cheek.

"I can't sit with you guys today," Kaitlyn told me and I frowned at her.

"What? Why?"

"Noah, you know I get busier whenever volleyball starts. I need to be with the team right now."

When we got closer in line, Kaitlyn grabbed herself a red, plastic tray then placed a slice of cheese pizza on it.

Kaitlyn claimed she was a vegetarian, cause her entire family was but I've seen her eat twenty Mc Nuggets all on her own.

"I could but some of the girls are new on the team, so I need more time with them," she explained and grabbed an orange, then a chocolate milk.

"We don't have classes together and our lockers are at the complete opposite ends of the school," my tone became sharper and I could feel the unneeded anger boiling in me.

"We don't even cross paths during the day. Lunch is the only time I get to see you."

Once Kaitlyn paid for her lunch and we finally got out of the line, we stopped so we could speak face to face.

"Sorry, babe but it's not like this'll be an everyday thing, okay?" she asked and I just groaned.

"Fine but I'm still coming over tonight, right?"

My girlfriend grinned and kissed my cheek.

"Yep. I'll text you when to come over."

"Okay," I agreed bitterly then watched her go sit at a table that consisted of a bunch of tall females.

Volleyball players.

I sighed and went back to my table where Carter, Emily and Jason have now joined Sam.

Thank God.

I didn't even know what the fuck they were all talking about because all I could think was, I almost kissed Sam, I almost kissed Sam, I almost kissed Sam.

What the absolute fuck?

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thoughtsaladblog · 1 year ago

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Kinky or Creepy Thoughts?

Ok so a recent chat with Morally Grey revealed that he's not as into the morally grey sexual rendezvous as I might have thought.. and upon (feeling slightly let down) questioning him about it, he mentioned the burning and branding- and to be quite honest it made me take a step back too. I mean, am I really into that? I never have been. Frankly, the thought never crossed my mind until our chat reached a level of steamy flirtatiousness that I tried to keep up with by conjuring a series of wild ideas, I would never even think of on any other given instance. But once the thought came- as hesitantly as it did- it was implanted. And suddenly I toyed with the idea of it... And maybe it was the idea of having a brief sense of ownership and control, or something, but suddenly I was entertained by the idea.

Until I watched a Nordic Dark True Crime documentary and saw myself in some of the texts sent by the fucking murderer. Then I was like- ummmm .... maybe we need to reel in the monster. Psychopathic vibes much? I mean, ok I know I lack the criminal mind required to pull off anything drastic, and frankly my soppy, sensitive, morally righteous brain could never... But let's not forget the things that have fascinated me since I was a teenager. After all, we all have a dark side to us- some of us are just better at controlling it. Ngl though, Peter from the documentary really did remind me of Morally Grey- and his texts with his poor, unwitting girl toy ran very much on similar lines as our own questionable chats. Eerie.

But also- I blame modern fucking smut! What the fuck is up with these morally grey characters written out to be so perfectly seductive, that you forget your decades long love of Mr. Darcy and suddenly just crave to be ruined for other men by a narcissistic, slightly misogynistic dude with a superiority complex?

I think it was the fact that for the longest time I didn't think it possible that an actual man could fulfill or rise up to those characters- certainly not the disappointments that I've encountered thus far. So instead I set the bar insanely high, so as not to settle for shit like sex- but rather to wait for a Mr. Darcy who ain't never coming. But then Morally Grey shows up, and turns the tables on this tacit approach to my dalliances and suddenly I'm thinking from my hoo-ha and not brain. Which is never the place to make big decisions from.

But also, today's chat revealed something to me.

I mean, we already knew the guy was insanely smart, he knows it, he takes pride in it, he likes to laude it over others- especially women, and he uses it to get what he wants... and let's be honest, the guy can be fairly narcissistic; thanks to a superiority complex brought on by his massive brain and a misogynistic trait brought on perhaps by his bad experiences but also (let's be honest) his massive brain. So we knew all this. We knew he's a master manipulator. And apparently we still chose to be attracted to him- because I mean, why the fuck not, right?

But no, today's chat revealed to me that while all that is there... I think he is still in a place of emotional growth. I mean we all are- obviously. But I think that I have thankfully progressed to a point beyond where he is at (it's taken fucking long enough really). He's where I was at from 2016-2022... Whereas this year has been eye-opening for me and I've actually progressed to want to build connections with people. Do I believe in love? Not a chance. But I am willing to have a partnership with someone and learn and grow together with someone, while he's in his fuck all (and literally fuck all) era. And the thing is for all we know he may just want to stay there. After all, we are very different in our approaches to things- I tend to be more emotional and he's more logical and detached. So I'm honestly asking myself how I really feel about the guy? The answer so far is- still into him. What can I say? My heart is slow to learn. But I do also know, that this only means that I could end up growing tired of this soon enough. Right now I'm insanely horny for him, and I think its leaving me obnubilated- but I do believe that seeing as he isn't as freaky as I'd envisioned or hoped, I'm about to go in for some more mediocre sex... And then, problem solved. I'll be over him.

I honestly wonder how I am not a man? I mean, clearly i have the same get in, get off, get out energy as some men... but also the emotional turmoil of a woman, until that point- so I guess it makes sense I'm a woman.

Anyway, long story short- dude's still fucking driving me mad horny for him, I wanna have him fuck me till I collapse... But I do believe it's a dying attraction. At least let's hope so... before I end up in some murder documentary on Netflix for having narrowly escaped death because I was having a dalliance with a psychopath.

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wjbs-bonkle-au · 1 year ago

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I'm just gonna go full Unraveled and just list 'em all and rank them out of 5.

Airwatcher - basically just a big, stupid bird. 0/5

Amphibax - apparently, he has "enhanced hearing and eyesight"; imagine dating someone who can perfectly appreciate your voice and appearance, but who would also kill you underwater at the drop of a hat. 2/5

Charger - if you're into furries and/or don't have any pets, he's probably another 3/5; otherwise, 0/5.

Conjurer - no stop that's illegal. -5/5.

Darkness - has a cool name, and his powers probably have some... interesting applications, but he's kinda already with someone, and their relationship is super toxic. 0/5.

Devastator - you want to get sand in your bed? Also he makes some pretty big claims, which is kind of a red flag. 0/10.

Dweller - can literally read your mind; you want something, he'll give it to you and also use them to give you nightmares for shits and giggles, plus, and I quote, "Dweller's dedication enables him to wholeheartedly devote all his time and effort into completing his missions"; being in a relationship is... kinda like a mission! 4/5!

Eliminator - why. 0/5.

Firedracax - good if you're an arachnophobe, and isn't an unhinged murderer (unless you're a Visorak)! 4/5!

Gatherer - doesn't need to eat or sleep, so while he is low-maintenance, you can't have any nice dates, and as soon as you fall asleep you know he's gonna immediately get up and go hang out with the lads. Also if you break up, make sure to check your clothes drawer; he might have stolen a shirt or something. 0/5.

Gladiator - if you're into that. Careful of his claws. 2/5.

Kraata-Kal - the perfect "I can fix him" kinda guy, since he has inner light, and is unthethered from the Makuta that spawned him, although he is also, like, a slug in a big spiky robot. 4/5.

Lariska - the rest of the guys on this list are afraid of her... all I'm saying is, maybe give her a pass. 1/5.

Lurker - enjoys surprising his opponents, so like I guess he'd do that romcom thing of coming up behind you while you're making breakfast or something. However, he did become a Dark Hunter solely to commit murders without repurcussions. 1/5.

Mimic - he's kinda hung up over his missing wife, and I'm not sure if he's open to polyamory. 0/5.

Minion - absolutely can not keep a secret. 0/5.

Phantom - literally the only Dark Hunter who isn't comically evil or holds a grudge against another sapient species. 5/5! Congratulations, Phantom!

Poison - nope. 0/5.

Primal - attacks those more evil than him, but is not as un-evil as Phantom. If you own any cool objects, he'll probably try to steal them if you break up. 2/5.

Prototype - the quote at the top of his Biosector page literally calls him "Unstable, yes; violent, unquestionably; insane, without a doubt." 0/5.

Ravager - needs to have something to do or he'll destroy everything around him; very high-maintenance. Comes as a package-deal with his sentient sword and shield.

Savage - prone to fits of violence from being part-Rahi, so maybe don't unless you work with dangerous animals. 1/5.

Seeker - a cardboard cutout whose only personality trait is wanting to find the Mask of Light; while it would probably be easy to trick him into going on a romantic getaway, it can't make up for his lack of personality otherwise. 3/5.

Sentrakh - eww. Also, another member of The Shadowed One's toxic polycule. 0/5.

Shadow Stealer - he just wants a purpose in life. However, he also hates Toa for essentially stealing his job. 2/5.

Silence - doesn't seem to actually kill anyone, but he does kidnap people, so there is a chance that you'll come home to find one of your co-workers tied to a chair in your living room.

Spinner - not good with eye-contact. This would make him a 5/5, if it wasn't for the fact that he makes the air around him poisonous. 0/5.

Subterranean - what, you wanna get disassembled? 0/5.

Tracker - loves animals? Hates Visorak? Cardboard? Damn, sounds like a total 3/5.

Triglax - likes stealing things that people ask him to retrieve, so if you ask him to get a takeaway he'll probably just eat the whole thing.

Vanisher - kills any partners assigned to him. 0/5.

Vengeance - rounding us out, it's another cardboard cutout whose entire personality - wanting revenge on Teridax - gets invalidated by the end. 3/5.

Dear bionicle tumblr:

Which dark hunter would be the best date and why

#bionicle #reblog

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todoscript · 4 years ago

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how he would ask you out

request: pls some headcanons of how the boys (shinsou/tamaki/shouto) would ask the girl they like out 🥺

characters: shinsou hitoshi, amajiki tamaki, todoroki shouto

genre: fluff

word count: 3.3k+ total, 900-1200 per character

tags: pining, confessions, fem!reader

author’s notes: sorry if this sounds rushed?? i can’t write

SHINSOU HITOSHI

two years after his enrollment into the hero course, shinsou had finally came to terms with the feelings he’s been holding for you for quite some time now.

what began as just friendly encounters and kind gestures felt like something more to him. after all, you were one of the key people that led him to transition smoothly into the class, with your helpful demeanor and coming to his aid whenever he was stressed and troubled by the new environment.

you went out of your way to organize study sessions and small arrangements to mingle and get to know the other students better.

you reiterated to him that if he ever had any questions about anything, he could always come to you.

initially, shinsou thought he was being a burden—that he was just heavy baggage that tied you down.

however, you assured he was anything but, and stated that you were more than happy to help him, even going to say you enjoyed spending time and getting to learn more about him.

at your response, shinsou was appalled at how genuine you were.

appalled… but also very grateful.

eventually, there came a point when he realized there was no mistaking the affection he felt for you—not when he subconsciously noted every one of your habits and intricacies, able to tell whatever emotions were running through you at a simple glance, or when he would stop to admire the way you decided to style your hair differently or changed your look, thinking you seemed even more charming that day by the confidence you exude.

no, at that point, he’s sure it was painfully obvious. so obvious, in fact, that kaminari and mina had chosen to skip today’s group study session in favor of letting the two of you have your “alone time”. whatever that could mean.

shinsou had grimaced over their excuse of “being too busy that day” when you had told him the reasoning they gave you over text, despite knowing their next exam was only a couple days away. recalling just how nosy and enthusiastic they could get when involved in these kinds of affairs, he had an inkling of what exactly those two were planning. you, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to their schemes.

however, what did latch onto your mind was the thought of spending the day with only shinsou, in his very room, sitting across from each other with your textbooks open in front of you. though you should be more attentive to your studies, you couldn’t help the palpitations beating loudly in your chest and your wandering eyes that snuck glances at him after every question you answered.

unbeknownst to you, shinsou mirrored your actions all the same, reciprocating the flustered behavior, albeit a bit more subtly.

keep calm, hitoshi. why are you getting all worked up? he would say to himself, putting on his usual facade.

although he came off as relatively calm and collected on the outside, it’s difficult to keep his emotions in check when actions never lie.

that was especially true as he reached his hand out for the eraser you two were sharing between each other. with his eyes continuing to gander down at his notes, he hadn’t noticed that you were lunging for the same thing—not until your fingers had suddenly touched and you both pulled away at a speed equivalent to making contact with fire.

his stare unfaltering, shinsou was surprised to discern the embarrassed look on your face that immediately fixed itself as you rummaged through your pencil pouch. a second later, you pulled out another eraser, one that was notably smaller than the one you were sharing.

“um.. i’ll just use this,” you offered, and shinsou rubbed the back of his neck, the whole situation more awkward than it needed to be considering you never had any trouble sharing your supplies with each other before.

through some examination of your demeanor, shinsou had made a… bold enough claim, thinking that maybe—just maybe—you held the same kind of affections for him as he did for you.

it’s like he recalled earlier—actions never lie—and shinsou didn’t let the quiver of your lips or the intense concentration at your work to avoid meeting his gaze go past his head. that’s what spurred him to finally act on his desires.

without warning, he leaned forward on his seat to lay his hand over yours that caught your attention. you met his eyes, astonished to say the least, but more so concerned by how your eyes widened before you were about to open your mouth to ask him what was wrong.

the violet-haired male beats you to your words, voice resonating firmly, “y/n.”

you blinked. “y-yeah..?”

“i know this might be a bit late coming from me, but,” you could feel his hand tighten atop yours, “after exams, do you want to catch a movie together? just the two of us?”

shinsou fought the urge to look away, bashful at how he made his declaration for your time. the warmth surging under his skin was alleviated at the smile that slowly curled on your lips as you rotate your wrist, your palm touching his. the expression washing over your features told him you’ve been waiting for him to ask you this for a while now.

“i’d love to.”

AMAJIKI TAMAKI

ever a shy and introverted individual, tamaki has never had the heart to ask you out despite years of harboring a crush on you.

every time the thought had crossed his mind, he’d reason poorly with himself that you wouldn’t be interested in him in that way.

it didn’t help that his low self-esteem only deepened that thought that had now rooted itself in his brain.

at such a prestigious school like u.a., you were bound to find someone far more compelling than him—someone with guts, confidence, and great social skills. not a guy like him who conjures the image of potatoes at every anxiety-inducing encounter he comes across.

he was relieved enough to settle himself comfortably as just your friend—a title that allowed him to stay close and keep within your circle, all the while subjecting him to simply admiring you from afar.

but his eyes that held a hidden longing for more weren’t overlooked by a fellow student of his. or to be precise, the ever curious and free-spirited, hadou nejire.

always aware of his surroundings, it was hard not to notice that peculiar stare she’d aim at him during moments where he might’ve just finished speaking to you, or when you’d pass by and his head would naturally drift in your direction.

it was like she was picking apart every detail laid on him and it made tamaki absolutely restless.

tamaki’s suspicions and anxiety were later raised during one instance at the lunch table. he was at his usual seat next to his other big three companions, mirio and the aforementioned nejire, who was eyeing him with a gleam in her eye.

even with his self-consciousness, tamaki did his best not to pay any mind to the undesired attention and munched on his plate of takoyaki—the octopus nestled in the batter sure to come in handy later in training that day.

to his dismay, you passed by their table with your tray of food in hand, and nejire did not waste any time calling you over in that cheery tone of hers.

she invited you to sit down with them. you gave her invitation some thought before ultimately placing yourself in the free spot next to mirio, with nejire and tamaki already seated across from you.

the girl was all smiles and hums while tamaki was in a state of distress, both at his friend’s odd behavior, which was starting to spell trouble, to having you pulled into all of this. mirio was just being mirio, welcoming as always.

you greeted everyone at the table, making eye contact with mirio and nejire, but tamaki evaded your line of sight. he simply waved his reply without breaking away from his balls of takoyaki.

luckily for him, you didn’t give his lack of words much thought and started digging into your own lunch. it was then that nejire found it appropriate to start up a conversation.

“y’know, y/n, i’ve been meaning to ask you this, from one girl to another,” she mused, finger waving around playfully, “are you interested in anyone here?”

upon hearing her question, tamaki almost choked on his bonito flakes, his cheeks puffed and eyes blown. meanwhile, your chewing slowed as you gave your answer some thought.

“uh… well–”

“i’d say fujita from class d is quite the looker! think you’d be interested in them?”

after swallowing the food in his mouth, tamaki began to subconsciously listen in on the conversation. he paid close attention to your responses with bated breath, a small part of him anticipating your answer highly.

“fujita’s nice and all, but i don’t think we’d really get along as a couple.”

tamaki mentally sighed, relief evident all over his face. it was then that mirio had started fitting the pieces together after watching his close friend’s brow wrinkle throughout the entire exchange before finally relaxing at your words. crossing his eyes with nejire’s only confirmed his suspicions as the girl sent him a wink.

as a friend, mirio wasn’t about to let nejire’s operations fall flat. getting up from his seat, he motioned tamaki to come with him.

“i heard they have extra yakisoba bread right now! we should go check it out!” he said as a guise to give the other two time to themselves, free from tamaki’s prying ears.

unaware that mirio had caught on so quickly, tamaki didn’t object to tagging along with him. mostly because he thought of this as an opportunity to get some fresh air and calm his racing heart, finally feeling the effects of the blood rushing to his face.

with tamaki supposedly out of earshot, nejire was free to go about her questions however she wanted.

“okay then, if not fujita, then who? there has to be someone, right?” the girl scooted further in her seat out of pure curiosity. “tell me, is it perhaps someone in our class?”

it was your turn to be stricken by her boldness. you tried picking at your food, stuffing it into your mouth to avoid answering, but nejire’s tenacity outmatched you.

finishing your lunch, you opened your mouth to speak, “actually, the person i’m interested in is pretty close to you…”

nejire feigned ignorance, innocently placing a finger under her chin. “who? mirio?”

“ah no, it’s tamaki, alright?!” you ended up blurting, voice hushed but frantic.

bingo. hearing exactly what she wanted, nejire returned to her original position, a triumphant grin plastered on her lips. replaying what you said out loud in your head, you buried your warm face in your hands.

unbeknownst to you, tamaki had ended up hearing the whole exchange around the corner coming back to their table as mirio lightly snickered at his revelation of an expression.

the blond patted his shoulder. “go on then, you know what to do.” he threw tamaki an encouraging thumbs-up.

the boy gulped in response before inhaling a deep breath of air to prepare himself for what would arguably be the most important yet stress-inducing moment of his life so far.

noticing you getting up to discard your tray, tamaki—through a final push from mirio—went to make his move.

hearing him suddenly call out to you, you were caught off-guard. after admitting to your crush on tamaki to nejire, you felt your cheeks get hot just seeing his face right afterward.

“oh hey, did you get your hands on those yakisoba breads?” you scraped up a way to start the conversation.

“right... that… mirio managed to get the last one in the cafeteria,” he answered. then he brought his hand to rub his elbow, fidgeting in his spot as he found it difficult to look you in the eyes again.

“tamaki? something wrong? are you upset that he got the last yakisoba bread?”

he shook his head. “no, i… it’s just… i’ve been meaning to ask you this for a long time now, but never had the courage to say it to you because i didn’t think you ever liked me that way. but…” he finally mustered the determination to face you head-on. “would you go out with me, y/n?”

at first, you were speechless—absent of words as you relayed his request in your mind over and over again. then, your eyes softened, lips easing into a smile as you reached out for his hand.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

TODOROKI SHOUTO

it’s no surprise to many that when it came to asking someone out, todoroki didn’t exactly know the first thing to do.

mostly because he’s never asked anyone out to begin with.

you were the first person he’s ever felt these kinds of emotions for, and to be frank, he wasn’t sure what to make of everything that had been going through him when that root of infatuation had started to bloom inside him.

rather than sulk or contemplate on his thoughts for too long, he surmised it was best to simply come clean and ask for advice.

but when he confessed to what had been on his mind lately, he wasn’t expecting such a vigorous response from his friends.

“i’ve been thinking about asking y/n out.”

there was a layer of uncomfortable silence amongst the group before all hell eventually broke loose.

midoriya, uraraka, and iida immediately sprung from their seats in the common room, yelling “what?!” in unison. tsuyu and her frog-like mannerisms were more idle, but still surprised nonetheless.

todoroki was unfazed by their reactions, actually expecting it to go that way considering he’s never brought up any topics of that nature before. at the very least, he’s thankful he decided to say this when it was just the five of them. compared to what the whole class’s reaction would have been like, this was incredibly tame.

todoroki was used to always listening to what others had to say and never being the subject of the conversation when it came to dating.

but now things were different. he was openly admitting to them that he was regarding someone romantically. that he possibly sought a relationship with this someone—wanting to be committed to them and become the very best person he could be right next to them. to the four, this was coming completely out of left field.

after everyone simmered down and let the news sink in, the dual-haired boy resumed his thought,

“but i’m not sure how to do it.”

though the entirety of the group never had any experiences when it came to dating, they knew enough from media and pop culture to get an idea on how to help him. more than todoroki could imagine on his own anyway.

“i know! how about we go with the romantic and suave approach!” uraraka suggested. the rest asked her to elaborate.

“it’s simple! it starts by you leaving a note on her desk right before class, saying to meet you on the rooftop of the school! before the designated time, you should wait there for her with a bouquet of flowers, and then when she arrives, confess your feelings and ask her out!”

midoriya rubbed a finger against his cheek, skeptical. “i don’t think that sounds as simple as you’re making it out to be.”

tsuyu chimed in beside him. “those kinds of ideas usually only work well in books, ochako.”

pursing her lips, uraraka gave her plan a once-over, and realized it did seem a bit more involved and out of character than what todoroki was used to.

despite sharing a few more ideas with one another, they couldn’t narrow it down to any perfect one.

that was when iida clapped his hand, bringing everyone’s attention to him.

“alright, i think we’re starting to blow this whole ‘operation’ way out of proportion,” he said.

“if you’re honest about the way you feel about her and show it sincerely, i’m sure she’ll consider your feelings. you don’t have to do anything extravagant when it comes to asking someone out.”

listening throughout every word, todoroki nodded. meanwhile the other three were astonished that their class representative could be so whimsical when it came to romance, which in turn, iida was conflicted by. however, at the very least he was glad they could help out a friend. and so, todoroki went about his day with their discussion in mind.

he found that in many occurrences, whenever he crossed by you and thought of it as a chance to ask you out, there would always be someone to come in and take your time away. leaving him to stand there awkwardly before dismissing the fated question for later.

eventually, the sky dimmed and evening arrived, and by then, the whole class was already back at their dormitory and about to have dinner.

through some rather convenient circumstances, you two were actually assigned on kitchen duty that night.

“it’s been getting pretty cold lately so i was thinking we should cook up a hot pot for everyone.” you gave your idea to him as you pulled out some ingredients from the fridge, waiting for his reply, but it came a few seconds later than you were expecting.

“right. sounds like a good idea,” todoroki answered a tad late. upon realizing it was only going to be the two of you making dinner tonight, his mind was occupied by what he and his friends spoke about earlier.

that was when he started overthinking the situation and absentmindedly half-assed his work.

“todoroki, the cut on the tofu is slightly uneven.” you reviewed his cutting board. looking down, he saw the inconsistent slices of tofu limp in front of him. if bakugou were the executive chef for the evening, he would’ve had to hear an earful from him.

“sorry…” he apologized quietly, reaching out for another cube of tofu to cut.

“is everything okay? i know you’re still learning how to cook, but i’ve seen you show some significant improvement on your knife skills recently.” you voiced your concern for him.

the white and red-haired boy stared at the white bean curd while hearing your worried tone and couldn’t find it within himself to continue the task. it was now or never he thought. he laid the knife flat on the cutting board.

“actually, i wanted to ask you something.” he turned toward you. “do you… want to go out with me?”

nothing but the sound of the fire running on the stove could be heard in the kitchen. todoroki didn’t move his eyes away from you, watching you nearly drop the plate of siu choy and shiitake mushrooms out of shock as your mouth was hanging open.

when you caught onto your bearings, you let out a small laugh. “oh… i… wasn’t expecting that,” you admitted honestly, placing the ingredients on the counter safely.

the boy furrowed his brows. “is that a no?”

“n-no! i mean that isn’t my answer! i–” you fumbled with your words, cheeks warming up now that his confession had finally sunk in. in the meantime, todoroki found your reaction quite amusing. the corner of his lip quirked into a grin.

“what i mean to say is that yes, i’d love to go out with you.” you accepted the offer wholeheartedly. todoroki would be lying if his heart wasn’t throbbing from anticipation. he’s glad he’s able to rest and put that aside.

“now let’s continue making this hot pot together!” you cheered, smiling widely and he found comfort in your words before resuming slicing the tofu.

#bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha headcanons #shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #tamaki x reader #todoroki x reader #mha x reader #bnha scenarios #mha headcanons #shinsou hitoshi x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha x y/n

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frodo-with-glasses · 2 years ago

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I have a rule in my audiobook reviews that I can only use them to comment on the sound design, voice acting, mixing, etc. Y’know, things the audiobook is adding to the book, not the book itself. I can’t use those posts to comment on Tolkien’s writing; that is reserved for my chapter reviews. But I listened to this bit the other day, and I just can’t get it out of my head, so I need to scream about it some more.

For context, I encourage you to listen to Phil Dragash’s recording of “The Ring Goes South”; Merry’s section here happens within the first two minutes, and I promise it will be two minutes well spent.

All done? Good. Now let’s talk about that voice acting.

@tolkien-feels described Merry as “probably the least warm and fuzzy of the hobbits, but you’d have to be extremely dense to fail to notice how deeply he loves”. I couldn’t have put it better myself. Out of all the hobbits, I think Merry can be accurately described as "the Smart One"; he seems to be the leader of the Conspirators, definitely the logistics and details guy, and the best spoken out of the four main hobbits, second to Frodo. Compared to Sam and Pippin's big emotions, and Frodo's whining melancholy, Merry stands out as the most reserved and even-tempered, almost stoic for a hobbit.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't have some deep emotions under that calm surface, and I think Mr. Dragash's voice acting in this passage brought that out fully—in subtle, but unmistakable, force.

Listen to Merry at the beginning. He's so quiet at first. “I don’t wonder [that you want to rest], and I wish you could.” My mind immediately conjures an image of him with his elbow on the sill of the open window, pipe in hand and smoke milling around his head, but a little furrow between his eyebrows that could only be seen if one knew what to look for.

He sounds so thoughtful. So pensive. Like he’s still thinking about how it felt to watch Frodo suffer from the wound in his shoulder. The quiet thrum of anxious fear as he watched a member of his family, someone he loves nearly like a brother, grow pale and weak and listless over the long weeks. The little twinge in his chest every time Frodo winced while climbing onto the pony; the hatred he felt for every step that Frodo had to take over rough terrain, stumbling and weary and nearly blind.

Did Merry feel any phantom pain in his own shoulder, or in his heart? Did he offer a hand to Frodo when he stumbled, or let him lean on him when the path was wide enough for two? Did he weep in private like Sam did, or simply sit in silence, and stay up as late as his exhaustion would allow him, staring into the growing darkness and worrying? How did he feel in that instant when they found Frodo's crumpled body face-down on the other side of the Ford, pale and still, and the horrid thought flashed through his mind that "maybe he's dead"?

Three days, Frodo lay in a bed, talking to himself but not awake, and slowly growing more translucent. Three days, even the Elves couldn't find the cause. Three days, Merry sat around like we do in hospital waiting rooms: biting nails, or pacing, or reading as a distraction but not really able to pay attention to what's on the page, feeling tiny and helpless and terrified and silently praying that people smarter and more skilled can save the ones we love.

And then, the splinter was found. Frodo recovered. If Merry had been holding his breath the whole time, he could let it out now. Frodo was up and about in no time, eating and walking and laughing, and there wasn't a thing in the world that Merry could possibly worry about.

And then, all this happens.

Yes, Merry wishes Frodo could just rest. Both for Frodo's own sake—because he's been through enough already, by heaven—but also to ease his own worries, because he loves him, and the thought of Frodo walking off into more danger is yet another burden on his mind.

It's a burden he takes up willingly, of course, and with aplomb if anyone needs convincing. He just wishes it wasn't necessary.

But now his mood shifts. He turns his head away from the window and addresses Frodo directly, and a little more lightly in spite of the subject matter. "But we are envying Sam, not you."

There's a little bit of rueful humor and fond annoyance in his tone here. "Not everything is about you, all the time, you dramatic half-wit." At the same time, he's speaking plainly his frustration with the situation, with a little humor to soften it.

"If you have to go, then it will be a punishment for any of us to be left behind! Even in Rivendell." Yes, he knows it's lovely, yes, the waterfalls are beautiful, yes, he has more food than he could possibly want here, but that doesn't matter. He made a decision—heck, he made a promise. "We are coming with you, or following you like hounds."

"We have come a long way with you, and been through some stiff times." He sounds proud of this, and he has right to be. Frodo's three companions have been "tested by fire", so to speak—or rather tested by tree, and barrow, and a very long walk—and they've proved themselves of sterner stuff than first imagined. That should be credentials enough to allow them to stay at Frodo's side, and to risk even greater danger. Even if that's not a very impressive résumé to the wise and the powerful, it should still be enough to convince Frodo of one thing: "We love you, darn it, and you're not getting rid of us that easily."

"We want to go on." Oh my word, this line. Five little words, and so much nuance in them.

One of the simultaneously lovely and infuriating things about LotR is the scarcity of italics used in dialogue; it leads you to use your own imagination to determine the way each sentence is delivered. Most of the time, it's fairly obvious, but here, Mr. Dragash's reading completely changed the way I interpreted this sentence.

First of all, the emphasis on want. An affirmation, and sort of a spotlight, on the fact that this is their free will, and also a slight challenge to oppose it. "You think you have our best interests at heart? You want to make us happy? Then respect our decisions and desires. Namely, our desire to stay by your side.”

Secondly, the little rise in his voice in go on. It's a tiny, tiny thing, but it hit me upon listening to this again. His voice doesn't drop into a determined but grim growl; he doesn't think of "going on" as a gauntlet of hardships to be feared but grudgingly endured. He says "go on" like it's an opportunity, another step in the adventure, the ultimately happy continuation of their journey thus far. There's a little touch of hope and optimism in the way he says it. Will it be difficult? Yes. But fundamentally, he believes it will be good, and that outweighs the difficulty.

Both of those things put together chances the tone of the sentence—now it’s not just a simple restatement of the thesis of the argument, but also an impassioned plea for Frodo to understand just what this means to his companions, and how important it is. You can almost hear Merry leaning forward for emphasis when he says it. “We want to go on.” And the implication is, “please understand this; it’s very, very important that you do.”

Did Mr. Dragash think this hard about the delivery of these lines when he read them? Probably not. But maybe it's even more of a testament to his acting that I can pull so much meaning out of a few sentences. As someone who is also fairly reserved on the outside but has huge emotions under the surface, I relate to Merry, and I'm delighted to see him portrayed like this. We quiet ones always have a lot we're thinking about, and it's there if you know how to read us.

Or maybe I'm just rambling nonsensically about nothing because it's nearly 3 AM and Merry and Frodo apparently own my heart now LOL

#meriadoc brandybuck #merry #frodo baggins #my writing #lotr audiobook #audiobook #phil dragash #lord of the rings #lotr #long post #in which i wax eloquent about tiny vocal inflections for WAY too long

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chateautae · 4 years ago

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

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

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

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

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 19k

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

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

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

“Are you serious, Jimin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm, I’ll think about it.”

And Jimin cut the call without a second to spare.

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

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

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

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

Who the fuck is ever doing nothing on Christmas Eve?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was really you.

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

The same you he once liked.

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

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

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

“Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you?”

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

“Oh my God, Kim Taehyung?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The same Taehyung you once liked.

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

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

It was nearly daunting to see the gorgeous difference now.

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

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

“And you’re still short, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair point, so in two days, huh?”

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

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

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

He was a man now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taehyung : remember to bring your competitive side today ;)

You : omg, what did jimin plan?

Taehyung : you’ll have to wait and see

Taehyung : jimin’s a creative one, remember?

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

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

Taehyung : be there in 5!

You : gotchu!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sources? You.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No way, is that Y/N?”

“Holy fuck, Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Goddamn you.

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

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

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

“But Tae-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God fucking dammit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Competition?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A very beautiful, attractive woman.

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

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

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

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

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

“Taehyung, are you listening?”

He blinked. “Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That was an accident, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And fall even harder.

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

You blinked. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it damn well thrilled him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d love to see you try.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it was downright fearful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

Wait.

Jimin’s advice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pure, unadulterated love.

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

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

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

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

You loved him too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked. “What?”

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

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

“Sure, I’d love that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your apartment is nice.”

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

“I thought I’d never see you again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And little did you know, you really did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, I can’t do this anymore.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your core ignited at just his touch against bare skin, gushing as your hips harshly grinded against his body and your hands smoothed over the lean muscle of his body.

He yanked the pieces of clothing down the curve of your ass, proceeding to pull them past your thighs as you unhooked your legs to help take them off you.

The rush of the cold against your wet pussy lips made your breath hitch beautifully, one of Taehyung’s hands moving your skirt to let his large, warm palm cup your sex so pleasurably the contrast of the size of his hand and your little cunt sent you both ablaze.

“You’re so small, think you can take me, good girl?” Taehyung breathed against your chest. “I’ll fuck up your insides.” His baritone voice was dark and low as he warned you, sent arousal spiking through your nerves as you groaned.

“Fuck up my insides, Tae.” You desperately moaned out, hands finding Taehyung’s hair as he continued to lay searing kisses to your hot skin, his fingers rubbing your dripping folds harshly. “I just.. I need you, Taehyung, so fucking badly.”

“Say it again.” Taehyung hissed, exposing one of your bare breasts from your dress and pressing his tongue against a perched nipple, the wet sensation so satisfying you were scratching his shoulder blades.

“I-I need you, Taehyung.”

“Need me where?” He growled as he pressed against your clit and circled it, collecting your slick and spreading it all over yourself.

And it was hard, so fucking hard to think straight with your bare, soaking wet pussy was rubbing against Taehyung’s rough fingers and his lips sucking your exposed nipple for dear life, the pleasure burning inside you so hot your voice was coming out in choked moans.

“Need you inside, Taehyung.” You gasped out. “So empty without you, so fucking empty, for so long.”

“God, fuck.” Taehyung groaned proudly, popping off your breast to look at your half-lidded eyes, his own blown out with his hair mussed and lips swollen pink. He returned to your lips again as his hands simultaneously hooked underneath your thighs and suddenly lifted you off the couch, your legs secured around his torso as he walked you into what you assumed was his bedroom.

Your core rubbed against the buckle of Taehyung’s belt as he walked and you gushed oceans, the cool metal providing such delicious friction you were moaning satisfyingly into Taehyung’s mouth, grinding against him for more.

His kiss was fervent even when he splayed you onto his covers, back hitting the bed as you stroked your hands over his beautiful bare chest.

Taehyung suddenly came off you, eyes going wild as he looked down at your panting figure underneath him, then your offensive dress.

“Fuck this thing.” Taehyung nearly ripped it from your body, shredding the pretty fabric off and simply basked in the glory of seeing your naked body for the very first time.

Taehyung’s eyes filled with pure wonder, the moonlight and reflection of white snow falling outside adding a glow to your skin he couldn’t help but marvel at, your curves so beautiful he wanted to run his hands all over, the purple of his marks left on you only making him blossom with more arousal, more passion.

“Holy shit, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Taehyung’s face was so blown away, you couldn’t help but grow a little shy, bringing him close to you by his neck so you could breathe into his ear.

“Good, I hear you ruin them.”

Taehyung could only smirk, rolling his tongue on the inside of his cheek, cock twitching at just your words. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Taehyung trailed one hand down your body, momentarily wrapping it around your throat until it was gliding over your nipple and down to your core, lining the lips of your pussy so teasingly you were reeling.

The pads of his fingers smoothed over your pussy lips again, applying pressure to your clit that had you lurching, until he used the opportunity to slide two fingers into your aching hole with ease.

“You’re so fucking wet, dripping all over my fingers.” He growled into your ear as he laid himself on top of you, his free hand holding your face while the other worked your core.

The sharpness of his long, slender fingers were euphoric, causing you to moan loudly. You could see his hard dick pressing against the fabric of his slacks almost painfully, and you jutted your hand out to begin palming him generously.

Taehyung could finally hiss as loud as he wanted, screwing his eyes shut in sheer pleasure.

He began pumping you faster in response, sliding in and out so deliciously you were moaning incessantly against his mouth as he began kissing you again. Your breasts were pressing into Taehyung’s bare chest the more you arched yourself, closing the offensive gap between you both and the skin to skin contact sending you both to cloud nine.

“Taehyung..” You moaned in between kisses, so shameless about your desire for him you only wanted to know his name.

“Taehyung.”

“Fucking hell, that does shit to me.” Taehyung began thrusting harshly into your hole now as punishment, practically finger-fucking you against his bed till it made your walls clamp down on him, trap his slender fingers inside so you could feel every heavenly inch of them.

You became hungry for more, your hand grabbing at Taehyung’s straining cock harder and the strangled groan that left his lips was so fucking beautiful, your insides were screaming.

“Shit, Taehyung,” You moaned out breathlessly. “You’re so hot like this, so fucking hot. Fuck me, fuck me like you said you would. ”

Taehyung’s breaths turned heavy and hungry, his cock aching to be inside you so painfully he was going insane at your every word.

“Fuck. I’m fucking you into next week. I’m fucking you until you only know my name. Fucking you until you know how badly I’ve wanted you, until your legs are shaking and you feel me in your throat.”

“Then do it.” You nearly cried out, hands fumbling with the waistband of Taehyung’s pants. Your pussy was aching so excruciatingly around Taehyung’s fingers your slick was gushing from you, all over him and it only made Taehyung feral thinking about what would happen if it were his dick instead.

“Fucking do it, Taehyung, fuck me until I’m shaking.”

Taehyung flipped his switch and suddenly shoved his fingers so deep inside you, scissoring you completely open it made you lurch up in searing pleasure. His large palm grabbed underneath your head and positioned you upwards, able to angle his fingers so he could smash them inside you so harshly it was pathetic it wasn’t even his dick that had you high, but just his fingers.

“Holy fuck, Taehyung!”

“Cum all over my fingers, pretty. I wanna hear you.” Taehyung growled into your ear, couldn’t help but think about your walls convulsing around his dick and it was euphoric hearing you moan, all fucked out underneath him.

He couldn’t stop finger-fucking you like his life depended on it, wanted to fill you up in so many ways you’d remember him for weeks.

You were almost there, the edge so close. It was racking the bottom of your stomach, had your toes curling and walls pounding so snug around Taehyung’s fingers you could only latch onto the nape of his neck for dear life.

You felt it, felt it so near and had his name leaving your mouth in such an intoxicating mantra you were seconds from letting go. Seconds, milliseconds, just about to release your impending orgasm until Taehyung ripped his fingers out of you.

You gasped scandalously at the loss, body buzzing with your unachieved high it made your exclaim come out in a garbled protest. “Taehyung, what the fuck?!”

You tried getting an answer, but Taehyung’s hungry, half-lidded eyes shut you up immediately, watching him lick his fingers like he was starved, like this was the sweetest honey he’s ever tasted.

“Fuck, you taste as sweet as you look.” Taehyung’s grin was evil, and it made you turned on but pissed he denied your orgasms.

“You’re so-” You attempted to get out, but Taehyung suddenly flipped you onto all fours in a second, your hands and knees anchored onto the bed with only your shocked figure confused.

“T-Taehyung, what are you-” You then sighed at the sudden touch of his tongue meeting your weeping hole in a devilish swipe. It was intoxicating, feeling his wet muscle begin licking into your core and tasting your soaked folds from behind.

“I’m doing what you asked..” His voice was dark and weighty, and that’s when you suddenly felt another sensation of his two fingers returning to your throbbing entrance. Your insides buzzed when he spoke against your core, grittier than he ever has all night. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

And his tongue suddenly slithered into your hole when he removed his fingers, licking into your entrance in a harsh rhythm as his palms began grabbing at your ass, kneading the meaty flesh as he straight up devoured your pussy like it was the only thing he’s wanted his entire life.

His tongue was lapping you fervently, so starved your dissipated orgasm was coming back again. You were winded, having never been eaten out like this and you were moaning his name loud enough to get noise complaints filed to the police.

“Taehyung!” You cried out, though he didn’t let up. Instead he brought one of his hands to your pulsing clit, circling and applying so much necessary pressure you were losing your mind, insane off the fact he hadn’t even filled you up with his cock yet and you were pathetic underneath him.

“Fucking God, Taehyung, Tae!” And when he groaned so audibly into your pussy, rutting himself against the bed for friction it sent you flying, soaring into the sky and losing all coherent thought as your orgasm bubbled in your stomach, his husky voice grounding you to Earth.

“Cum for me, baby, now.” And that was all it took to have you lurching over the edge, releasing your pent up orgasm so violently you were nearly screaming, Taehyung’s name the only distinguishable thing rolling off your tongue.

He licked up your juices like they were fresh water, helping you ride out your euphoric orgasm and allowing yourself a moment to rest. You breathed, falling onto the bed in exhaustion, trying to quell the blood pumping in your ears when Taehyung suddenly pulled you back onto your hands and knees, cautioning you darkly when he spoke.

“You thought we were done?” It was evil, he was evil, the way his voice sounded like the epitome of a smirk as you tried catching your breath. Taehyung’s lips then suddenly ghosted the shell of your ear as he wrapped an arm around your torso, pressing his chest to your back as he spoke.

“I haven’t even done anything yet.”

And again, it was the ‘yet’ that had you groaning out in frustration but in the best possible ways. How wasn’t this already enough? How did he have you so fucked out just by the sheer power of his fingers and tongue? It was sickening, he was sickening and you found yourself throwing your ass back on him to urge his cock into you already, to just fuck you open with all he had.

“Taehyung, just-fuck! Fuck me, please.” You were pleading, needing to feel the wreckage of what you could tell was the biggest cock you’ll ever take.

Taehyung had removed his pants and boxers in the moment, freeing his painfully angry cock from it’s confines. You were faltering from your position again when Taehyung suddenly prodded your abused hole with his engorged tip, you shuddering to life harshly.

“Taehyung, just-”

“Beg me.”

You cried out in immediate desperation, his voice so authoritative it was sending you into submission, clutching the covers under you so hard your knuckles were white as you complied. “Taehyung, please, fuck me. I need you, please.”

Taehyung’s arm was snug around your torso, feeling your every quaking expire in his hold and it was turning him on so agonizingly this was painful even for himself, but the way your sweet voice begged him was absolutely exhilarating.

“More.”

“Taehyung, if you don’t fucking-!” You were cut off by the sharp impalement of Taehyung’s cock in a single breath, knocking all forms of wind out of you. The head alone was so large you went hurtling into the mattress, almost losing your shaking arms’ support until Taehyung pulled you back up for him, snaking his one hand that was previously around his cock to your breast while the other gripped at your hip.

He was slowly sinking in, feeling your walls flutter open for him and the satisfied moan that left his mouth was evidence of how much this was affecting him.

“Fuck...” Taehyung dragged out completely content, digging into your hip to watch you arch your back for him, on his knees as he filled you up from behind. “You’re so fucking tight and wet, holy shit.”

You were struggling for air, oxygen leaving your lungs trying to accommodate for his monstrous size. It was unfair, so unfair he was so big and it had you praising him immediately, so full and stuffed it was the most pleasurable thing you’ve experienced all your life.

“You’re so big, oh my God, Taehyung, so big.” One of your hands shot towards his holding you by your hip, interlacing your fingers together against your skin just to ground yourself, to manage the sharp pierce of his length until it simmered into a pleasurable burn.

He bottomed out into your cervix and you both grunted loud, Taehyung containing himself just so he could feel your velvet walls palpitate around his throbbing dick. “Do you feel how hard I am, Y/N? Do you fucking feel it?”

“Yes, God fuck! Tae, yes..” You sighed out, eyes watering at just how much pleasure was already raking your abdomen again.

“That’s what you do to me, you barely touched me and this is how hard I am. How fucking badly I want you, how much I’ve always wanted you, wanted you since day one.” Taehyung’s voice was sincere and desperate, seemingly trying to counter your confession of your feelings from earlier.

“Show me, Taehyung.” You moaned, hands gripping his more affectionately, more desperately as you weakly held yourself up by the other. “Fuck me and show me how much you want me.”

Taehyung grunted out harshly, pulling his cock out of you until he thrusted back in. The first thrust had you keening, sending you into the mattress only to have Taehyung pull you back up once again. Then the second came, your walls greedily soaking him into you and it felt perfect, like two puzzle pieces meant to connect with each other.

Then came the third, the fourth, the fifth, all the way until Taehyung was pounding into you from behind with a drag so delicious you were moaning out more than you ever have in your entire life.

And it was sickening, utterly sickening the way his dick began fucking you into the mattress so roughly, angling your body in ways for his cock to pump into all the right places with the right amount of pressure. He watched himself disappear into your little cunt repeatedly, holding your hip up to encourage you to arch so low your ass was snug against his pelvis, and couldn’t think of anything more fucking perfect.

“You take me so well, so fucking well.” Taehyung praised, leaning over to aimlessly lay wet kisses up your spine like the demon he was, shoving himself into you over and over and over again with your walls convulsing around him.

You were trapping him inside you so tight he could spill into you in seconds, though held back determined he was making you cum again.

“So full, Taehyung, so deep.. all I feel is you.” The statement left you with a desperate sigh, your head hanging low until Taehyung’s hand kneading your breast suddenly wrapped around your throat, causing you to gasp at the arousing feeling. He pulled your head upwards, the junction between his long index finger and thumb forcing you to look forward, and you were utterly breathless at the scene.

His lips were near your ear in seconds, speaking like the devil incarnate as he was bent over you. “Look at us, look at yourself, so fucking pretty, so perfect.” You could suddenly see the reflection of Taehyung fucking into you from behind in his window, not even knowing tears had streamed down your face as his hand beautifully encased your throat, causing every nerve in your body to alight with fire.

“Look at the way I fuck you, how much I love you.” Taehyung’s carnal eyes looked at you through the reflection of the window, heart twinging at the sight of you crying but knowing he’s making you feel good, continuing his onslaught of drilling your battered pussy.

You moaned at the erotic scene, using every ounce of strength to keep yourself upright, your walls pulsing around Taehyung’s length as he thrusted harder and harder.

“Tae, fuck! I’ve always loved you, I always felt the same way, and I still do-ah!” Your lungs were tapping out when he suddenly shoved himself inside you to the brim, so utterly deep before he was thrusting again harshly, strangling out moans.

Clear sweat was slick between your bodies, his huge, delicious cock incessantly tearing up your insides and all you could do was chant his name in pleasure, in bliss, in your love for him that was burning so bright it was nearly painful.

“Y/N.. fuck. You’re ruining me. You’re so perfect, we’re so fucking perfect.” Taehyung was rambling at this point as his speed reflected his desperation, his immeasurable feelings for you.

He was trying his damn hardest to distract himself from the release aching his balls. He was growing weak himself, feeling you reciprocate his rough thrusts by fucking him back the same way. And the image in the window? Had him reeling, needing to hear the most beautiful sound you’d make when you finally came, and he knew you would, bordering the precipice with the way your walls pulsed around him.

Watching Taehyung fuck you in the window was now downright sinful to you, his harsh thrusts completely blissful and his hand gently squeezing at your throat was so dominant, so hot you were at your limit and ready to come.

But what ended up sending you over, pushing you to release the tightening knot in your stomach was the sweet, tender way Taehyung began kissing your neck.

The contrast between his cock abusing you and his plush lips kissing you so gently, so lovingly, it wasn’t long before you realized his fucking wasn’t just hard or rough, but full of sheer want, desire, love in all the right ways your walls were clenching around him rapidly in seconds.

And when Taehyung angled himself somehow deeper, in that one, perfect spot, you clamped down and finally came so hard you saw stars, knew you’d completely drenched his cock with the loudest release of his name you were glad it was the only word you knew in this moment.

“That’s it, baby. Just like that.” Taehyung breathed out in exhaustion, began soothing your abdomen with one hand and the other letting your head finally hang, grip loosened from around your throat and you could finally allow air back into your lungs.

You were heaving when you spoke up, realizing something. “Inside me.. Taehyung.” You were dreary, utterly gone, but it still didn’t distract you from the blissful feeling of Taehyung’s cock deliciously stuffed and throbbing inside you, trying to coax his rightful release. “Cum inside me, Tae. Please, fill me up.”

Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice when his cock worked a few more rough strokes into your tightened pussy and finally, finally came inside you. It was laced with a satisfied groan of your name, his grip on your side so intense you’d be glad if he left marks, wanting to remember every last bit of this night with Taehyung.

He painted you completely white inside, spilling everything he could offer into you, using what little strength he had left to hold you up while he continued to empty his seed inside. Taehyung then lost all function and allowed you to fall, his broad body resting on top of yours as you both hit the mattress.

Your chests rose and fell shallowly, completely taxed and having lost every ounce of strength. Taehyung’s hot breaths for air were fanning your neck, your arms sprawled out before you as Taehyung’s hands mindlessly interlaced with them against the tousled covers, cock still stuffing you whole.

It was another moment of breathing and regaining oxygen when Taehyung suddenly kissed the side of your neck, giving your hands a small squeeze before you felt him lifting himself, his warmth disappearing and you panicked.

“Where are you going?” Your throat was hoarse from screaming and moaning, a tinge of sadness to your tone as though he was leaving you, and Taehyung couldn’t help but find it endearing.

“It’s okay, I’ll be right back.” He smiled, moving your hair from the side of your face to plant a kiss to your cheek, post-sex haze racking his brain though allowing reality to leak back into his mind.

He then carefully, slowly pulled himself out of you, you whining at the loss of him and Taehyung smiled to himself in contentment, smoothing over your lower back with a palm in gratitude, before stepping towards his bathroom.

He’d pulled his boxers back on and returned with a damp cloth, finding you still flipped and laying on your stomach, having dozed off in exhaustion until you felt Taehyung’s warmth and heard his dulcet voice hazing you awake.

“Y/N, turn over for me.” His voice was hushed and tender, you complying by turning onto your back with his help. He then carefully swept the cloth against your battered core, you wincing a little with sensitivity and Taehyung made sure to clean more gently.

The cloth was thrown back into his bathroom when he turned back to you, an arm thrown over your tear-stained face and the other clutching your body, clearly shivering in the cold now.

Taehyung easily scooped you into his arms and lifted you off the bed, carrying you over to his pillows and delicately placing you upon his duvet, pulling the covers out from underneath you and tucking you into his bed.

You curled up into his blanket, Taehyung searching through his drawers for a stray t-shirt you could wear. He then lifted you into a sitting position, your eyes evidently sleepy and body limp as he pulled the shirt onto you, letting you fall back in place.

Taehyung could only chuckle to himself thinking he did mean to ruin you, but not so harshly you were devoid of consciousness. He placed a little kiss to your forehead in apology, wiping some of the tears off your face before he rounded the bed, crawling in next to you.

His arms reached out to pull your back snug against his chest, feeling the sleep in the back of his eyes take him. He basked in the strawberry scent of your hair, completely gratified until you suddenly turned over towards him.

His eyes shot open, only the top of your head coming into view as you nuzzled into his warm chest, your small self all tucked into Taehyung as he wrapped his arms around you like a safety net, holding you near.

And in that moment, all he could focus on was your light breathing, the sweet sound of your voice as you suddenly spoke in the dark of the night, moonlight glowing upon your entangled bodies.

“I love you, Taehyung.”

He grinned, the kind where he felt relieved, fulfilled, in a state of sheer bliss it was a moment before he replied, his own voice calm as you felt the hum through his chest, his hand tangled in your hair.

“I love you, Y/N.”

The morning sun bled into Taehyung’s room, your eyes fluttering open at a time you had no concept of. You stirred, finding yourself still in Taehyung’s arm, in relatively the same position from last night. You didn’t even feel like moving from his hold, the feeling so utterly fuzzy and comforting.

You basked in the sensation until he began to stir next to you, pretty eyelashes batting as his eyes fluttered open. His sights fell to you, eyes adorably taken by sleep while his soft hair was endearingly mussed by his pillow. You smiled at him warmly as he grinned back.

“Good morning.” you said shyly, nearly hiding underneath his covers.

“Good morning.”

You then flopped onto your back peering up at the ceiling, last night coming back to you in dream-like flashes you were surprised was somehow your reality.

It was just miraculous, utterly unbelievable until Taehyung turning into your side and snuggling his face into your neck was evidence everything was real, that he was real. It wasn’t some remnant of a dream or hallucination, but the real Taehyung as his arm draped over your stomach.

You had to bite your lip to contain your happiness, utter exuberance the universe had somehow finally paired you and him together, and funnily enough, on Christmas of all days.

“What are you thinking about, princess?” Taehyung hummed into your collarbone inquisitively, half asleep as he cuddled you.

You smiled, basking in his comfort. “Merry Christmas, Taehyung.”

Taehyung chuckled against you, arm pulling you closer to him as he kissed your neck. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Can you believe we met each other again during Christmas? It’s like the perfect Christmas miracle.” You marveled in wonder, tracing your finger along Taehyung’s pretty hand on your stomach.

“I mean, you know what Andy Williams said..” He mused next to you, husky voice laden with sleep. “It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”

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