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rainycat2 · 10 months

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Though I Could Not Stop For Death

Chapter Five: Throw Away the Plan

Damian was having a no-good, very bad day.

First, the nonsense with Gordon running into a clone, the clone acting oddly.

Second, the clone apparently operating Twitter to post a picture of himself with coffee, rapidly rising to viral fame. Father had already been receiving requests for interviews about the apparent doppelgänger of his youngest son, and if there was another adoption case in the works.

The clone’s actions were smart, all things considered. By showing up in the public eye, its disappearance would cause some concern— unless they were somehow able to pass it off as Damian or a fluke. The cleanup from this particular strategy would take a while for the public to forget.

Not to mention, Jon was being frankly insufferable about it. He’d “popped over for a visit”, planting himself firmly in Damian’s room (which he was not sulking in, thank you) until Damian talked to him.

“He’s not a clone, is he?” Jon asked, thinking out loud as he inspected the selfie, zooming in on the features. “Dude, he has constellation freckles. Look close, here.”

Damian resolutely did not look at the phone. “Just another point that this is a failed clone,” he insisted. “My mother is getting desperate if she is resorting to this.”

“Damian, come on.” Jon tucked his legs up under himself on the bed, kicking off his boots at Damian’s halfhearted scowl. “What’s going on? You’re, like, super upset about this.”

Damian looked away, looked out the window as he padded over to the sitting bay, climbing into it smoothly. “It’s a long story, but I shall attempt to summarize— so long as you swear not to tell my father or yours. Or any of my siblings.”

“Cross my heart,” Jon agreed, going through the motions. “Total secrecy. Well, as much secrecy as you can get here.”

Damian hummed, waiting for Jon to climb up into the window seat with him, looking out over the gardens below. “My father’s adopted children are not… the only siblings I have ever had,” he started reluctantly. “I had an elder brother, albeit only older by a short amount of time.”

“Had?” Jon asked, tilting his head. Damian reached over to poke him between the eyes.

“Quit that, you look like a sad puppy. Yes, had is the key word here. We trained to take on our separate roles, myself training to become Batman, and he… he would have been the Heir to the Demon,” Damian explained, his voice going soft. Jon noticed his eyes shift, lost in memories. “I am reluctant to admit it, but he was… superior to me in everything. It came naturally to him, whether the it in question was languages, stealth, deception, fighting. He was a true protege, a true heir to Ra’s al Ghul.”

“So… what happened?”

“I was not. I was… a disappointment to the al Ghul name,” Damian gritted out, his face hardening. “I was clumsy, and soft. I could not bring myself to kill.”

Jon stared for a moment. “You?”

“Yes, me,” he drawled, raising an eyebrow. “A surprise, I understand.”

“It’s just…. You?”

“Yes, yes,” Damian waved off. “We can return to this later. To summarize, we were given the directive. Ra’s only needed one heir, after all— Batman was not a necessary component of his empire, after all, and the League had recently… acquired Todd.”

Snow blowing through his hair, his hands shaking as he held the katana pressed into his hands. It’s too big for him, unwieldy in his eight-year-old grip. Not strong enough, not willful enough.

He was going to die, and it would have been all his fault. Not strong enough, fast enough, good enough.

Damian shook off the memory with a twitch of his shoulders. “He sacrificed himself for me, intentionally taking a mortal wound so that I could survive. I… I never truly understood why.”

Jon watched, concern flicking across his face. “Damian, we don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to,” he said, his voice soft, weary.

Damian pressed on, his teeth ground together. “My mother must have… kept some of his DNA. Enough for this tactic, but not enough to be perfect,” he theorized. “Thus the imperfections in the clone. Even if it is imperfect… it stands to reason it would have all of his talent and skill, and could pose a threat. For all that I am trained in the art of killing… it came easier than breathing to him.”

“So… potential clone is super dangerous, got it,” Jon hummed thoughtfully. “Peak assassin.”

“In a sense.”

“What’s his name?”

Damian hesitated. For a long moment, nothing was said, Jon and Damian looking out the window in a slightly tense silence.

“You don’t have to-“

“Danyal,” Damian interrupted. “His name is- was- Danyal.”

===

Nobody ever called Danny Fenton smart.

If you asked his peers, they’d say he was reckless, having failed most of freshman year and had to take remedial courses. Some would call him a dork, others would call him names.

Most would call him impulsive, though. Including his older sister.

“I. Cannot. Believe you,” she said exasperatedly. “I let you explore for an hour. An hour. What happened to “stay under the radar”, Danny?”

“If I intentionally draw attention to myself as Danny Fenton,” he explained, “I’ll have Batman’s attention on my human self. He, hypothetically, will be too distracted on… me to notice Phantom doing his job.”

Jazz paused, her mouth which was previously open to lecture clicking shut. “That’s… either the most ridiculous plan I’ve ever heard, or one of the most devious. You’re intentionally directing his attention into something emotional to get him off his game?”

“Ding ding,” Danny grinned. “Besides, the minute we get back into Amity, we’ll drop off the radar. After enough time, people will think it was just a weird hoax or photoshop. Pretty much as soon as we got here, someone clocked me.”

“What- who?”

“Redhead on the wheelchair I knocked into,” Danny explained, spinning a pen lazily in his hand. “I look exactly like a young Bruce Wayne, Jazz. I don’t want anything to do with that… mess, I’m happy in Amity, you know that. I have responsibility there.”

Jazz sighed. “He’s still your dad, Danny.”

“Blood only. I don’t call Talia my mom.”

“Okay, Little Brother. Just… be careful, please? The Waynes are one of the richest families in Gotham. If you’re going to keep playing this game, you’re putting a big target on your back.”

“And I’m really, really good at dodging,” he said with a reassuring smile, moving over to sit on the bed and lean against Jazz. “The plan’s going just fine. I’m going to do recon tonight on the city barriers, see if I can’t find the limits of Red Hood’s haunt.”

“Just don’t get knocked into a building, please.”

“You wound me, Jazz. I even upgraded my suit and everything with extra armor and a mask. I’m taking precautions to keep myself from being linked with Phantom and everything.”

“Like?”

Danny transformed swiftly, leaning against the wall as he let his sister examine him. The only things that truly remained of his original jumpsuit, even after the upgrades he’d added over the last year, was the color scheme, the boots, and the emblem. Everything else was dramatically different.

For one, his armor had added neon green accents, tracing along his shoulder guards, accenting his cape and knee pads. His torso, hips, and legs were deep black, with segmented armor providing better protection. Each piece was comparable in strength to high-caliber Kevlar, but magically enhanced to knit back together upon damage. Fabric draped across his hips called back to his armor from the League, and Danny took a moment to trace the familiar pattern with his fingertips.

Instead of the long white gloves of his heroic persona, he’d swapped in white wrist bracers with black fingerless gloves, extra armor on the knuckles. His boots were the same, long and white with a rubber sole, but with added protection at his knees.

The one true callback to his heroic persona was the emblem at his chest, pinning the cape together, the white insignia on a black pin. Above, only his eyes, hair, and ears were visible, from nose-down hidden by a sleek black respirator. His piercings had even changed from silver to matte black.

Jazz whistled as she looked him up and down. “Yeah, I guess that’s as good a disguise as any, but why aren’t you using your regular set?” She asked, tilting her head.

Danny shrugged. “It calls back to League armor. Any Bats seeing me would likely assume I’m an assassin on a mission, and won’t connect it back to me. And before they can get close enough, I’ll just drop from visibility.”

“Alright, Danny,” she hummed, ruffling his hair and deftly ignoring his protests. “Be safe, and stay on comms, okay?”

“I will,” he said, tucking the small green earbud into his ear. His had to be specially shaped due to the relatively recent taper of his ears, but hey, at least it made sure nobody else could use them. He reached into his duffel bag, tossing some emergency supplies into the bag at his lower back. Thermos, some ecto-shots in reinforced containers, bandages & antiseptic wipes, just in case.

After a moment’s hesitation, he picked up the hilt of his sword, pinning it to his side by tucking it into his belt. It would absolutely not work with anyone else, but due to Magic Ghost Powers, he can just… ignore gravity.

It would never be the one from Before, but it was a good replacement. Well-balanced, and created of his own unbreakable ice.

He tapped his earbud, the improved Fenton Fones crackling to life. “Testing, one-two,” he hummed as he turned invisible and intangible, floating up through the floors of the hotel to the roof. As it was daytime, he stayed invisible, looking over the city. “Can you hear me?”

“Coming in clear,” Jazz said. “How’s it looking?”

“Busy. I’m going to start mapping out the city, find those borders. Hood’s usually active at night, so with any luck, he’ll be asleep and I won’t get my shit rocked.”

“Please refrain from getting your shit rocked.”

“Doin my best!” Danny laughed, doing a loop-de-loop as he sped up, wind flowing through his hair and snapping his cape behind him. He circled the city, mapping the borders in his mind as he worked his way in.

As he got to the eastern side of Somerset, Danny stopped sharp in his tracks. Okay, the vibes here?

Rancid. Holy shit.

His parents, as protected from ectoplasmic radiation and liminality as their protective gear could provide, mentioned that ectoplasm smelled like battery acid mixed with a particularly sharp green apple. Sam, Tucker, and Jazz, at varying levels of liminality, described it as a more sour apple smell.

But to Danny? Pure ectoplasm, the ectoplasm of the Zone, smelled like a sweet Granny Smith apple, with a hint of an indescribable kick.

This?

The ectoplasm surrounding Park Row tasted fucking awful. Danny nearly gagged as he approached slowly. God, it tasted rotten, worse than a Lazarus Pit. And THAT was a high bar to cross.

The emotions tangled in that hellhole of a district were just as complex. Anger, rage, protection, fear, anguish, to name a few.

Danny sank to a nearby rooftop, leaning against a brick wall as he wrinkled his nose, thankful for the respirator that took the worst of the edge off the smell. “Okay, alright. Damn, I understand the issue now,” he muttered, seemingly to himself. “Can you stop enhancing it now?”

Lady Gotham hummed as she approached. “Of course, my dear. I simply wanted to gain your attention.” Danny nearly sighed in relief as the smell receded, only faintly smelling of rotten apples mixed with way, way too many chemicals. “Though you now understand the problem, don’t you?”

“Oh, yep.” Danny chanced a glance at her, blinking slightly at her changed appearance. The Victorian visage was gone, replaced with a more modern floor-length black evening gown, a fur coat, and a black mourning hat with a veil. White pearls decorated her neck, with the same broach from before. Long black hair coiled over her shoulder in a braid, glowing violet eyes looking back at him from under the veil. “You look different, ma’am.”

“I have taken many appearances,” she giggled softly. “Different impactful events on my city’s history can affect them.”

“Ah, of course.” Danny knew better than to press. Asking a regular ghost how they died was a good way to get your teeth knocked in. Asking a city ghost which of their deaths influenced their appearance? You’d be lucky if you ever got within 100 miles of the place with all your limbs in place. “It fits you, my Lady.”

Gotham laughed, shaking her head. “Your politics lessons have treated you well, I see. Now, on to the matter at hand. My dear Hood has been… struggling. I believe you may remember him from your own childhood, the project your mother took on?”

Danny thought for a moment, then nodded. “I think so. The Revenant that was then dipped in the Pits? Yeesh, no wonder the poor guy’s like this.”

“Mm. As for his predicament, I’d like you to at least see what you can do. If you are able to get into proximity with Hood, you should be able to cycle out his ectoplasm for fresh using the ‘ecto-shots’ you keep on your person.”

“I can do my best, but…” Danny gave her a side glance. “You do know he’s, like, a mob boss, right?”

“And you are a former assassin,” she pointed out. “Your point?”

“Fair,” he acquiesced. “Alright. Come nighttime, I’ll scope the place out, get him a gift and all that. I’m not gonna trespass on someone’s haunt without bringing a “please don’t maim me” gift.”

“Such good manners,” Gotham praised, patting his hair. Danny gave in almost immediately, honestly. Gotham was still an unknown, and he wasn’t going to flinch away from these… almost grandmotherly tendencies. “If you have need of me, call; I can act as a mediator for Red Hood’s more murderous Rage.”

“Thanks,” Danny muttered, feeling more than hearing her disappear. “Go catch up with the murdering mob boss, Danny. Gee, I’d be happy to, Ms. City Ghost, boy howdy, I hope I don’t get stabbed again!”

He rubbed at his face, leaning against the wall as he shifted back into visibility for a moment. He was still working out some of the kinks in his powers, and long-term invisibility was one of them. Shadow manipulation (thank you, Johnny) was useful, but in the early morning facing east, he wasn’t likely to find any he could actually use.

Regardless, he kept out of view of the street, his ears twitching as he surveyed the sounds and noises of the city. Man, Gotham was huge. Amity felt like a village compared to this, car horns, conversations, people moving and breathing and living constantly hitting him. If it weren’t for his practice at shutting things out, he would’ve had an overstimulation meltdown forever ago.

Danny sighed a little, pulling out his phone. The plan was working like a charm so far, with people comparing him to other members of the Wayne family. He flipped through a few of the tweets idly, then switched to his messaging app.

Halfalive: so it’s going well i think

Halfalive: gotham is scary but also weirdly wholesome

Halfalive: no progress on White tho, which sucks

Plantlady: youve also been there a total of 15 hrs

Plantlady: you have time

Techmaster: you don’t have to rush it yknow

Plantlady: we can handle ourselves

Halfalive: i know i know

Halfalive: i just get weird vibes here yknow

Halfalive: i do NOT need the bats on my ass much less the League

Halfalive: either one of them tbfh

Plantlady: i still am so surprised about that whole Deal ™

Techmaster: you didnt meet him when we were kids

Techmaster: i thought he had rabies :(

Halfalive: bitch please

Techmaster: YOU BIT ME!

Halfalive: YOU BIT ME BACK????

Plantlady: sweet ancients ok we get it youre both feral now moving on

Plantlady: if you see Dr. Ivy pls let her know that she is my favorite person

Techmaster: shes an ecoterrorist

Plantlady: and??

Techmaster: she’s a VILLAIN

Halfalive: hey, reformed villain

Halfalive: also i think they’re called rogues here

Plantlady: AND????

Halfalive: a n y w a y

Halfalive: on one hand gotham is very pretty

Halfalive: [image]

Halfalive: on the other hand holy shit there is so much smog here

Halfalive: i understand the ecoterroism thing tbh

Plantlady: i can be an ectoecoterrorist

Halfalive: sam no

===

Later, Danny would muse to himself that he really should have known better. No plan, regardless of how perfect, survives first contact with the enemy.

In his phantom assassin form (as Jazz was calling it, he really needed to stop letting her name things), he leapt from building to building, sticking to the shadows and intentionally dulling his inherent ghostly glow. On occasion, he’d simply disappear, throwing off any who may or may not be following him.

And, well. Maybe following the sounds of gunshots wasn’t his best plan to find a crime lord turned vigilante, but hey. Where else are you gonna find a crime lord?

And if he left a few people conveniently knocked out and tied up with sticky notes and the cops on their way, well. That’s nobody’s business but his own.

Danny hesitated as he approached Park Row, evidently known as Crime Alley, what the fuck, honestly. That’s just asking for trouble, even he knew that. The smell of rancid ectoplasm tugged at his senses, and he… paused, near the border of the Revenant’s haunt. It was across the street, but Danny stopped, sitting down on the ledge of the building idly.

Maybe he could avoid pissing off the resident if he just…

He pulled out a piece of paper from his to-go notepad, scribbling something on it before folding it into a paper airplane, then sent it fluttering down across the street. A bit of power snaked around the airplane, keeping it from being too terribly affected by gravity as Danny guided it across, letting it fall on the building opposite him. Just enough ghostly power to get the Revenant’s attention, while being polite and cautious to show he doesn’t pose a threat.

Yes, he was posing a risk to his own plan by going out of his way to get Hood’s attention, but for one, it was a stipulation of his agreement with Lady Gotham herself to help him, and two, Danny wasn’t just going to let the guy suffer.

Pit Madness fucking sucked.

He sighed, tapping his earbud to turn the mic on. “Communication initiated,” he murmured. “Now we wait to see if the attempt was enough.” Idly, he scanned the area ahead of him, leaning against the wall lazily.

Footsteps behind him though, landing almost silently but with the crunch of gravel betraying their arrival, got his attention, even though he didn’t move. “You know, I never understood why people sit on ledges,” a voice said, cheer in their- his? - voice as they approached cautiously.

Danny stifled a snort. “It’s got a decent view,” he hummed, not turning around. “Would be nicer if there wasn’t quite so much pollution, but hey, I guess that’s what happens when you keep locking up the plant lady so she can’t fix it.”

“There’s more ways to fix pollution than blowing up oil rigs and refineries.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Fair point. So, which one are you?” He shifted, turning to make eye contact with the probable-vigilante.

For a moment, he thought it was Robin. Apparently Batman had picked up another one, causing a whole Deal with the third Robin. The fourth apparently wielded a sword, though, so this guy was out. Red and gold and black, with a golden bandolier criss-crossing his chest. Danny’d heard rumors that he wore a black cowl, but that was foregone tonight, evidently, a domino mask used instead as black, spiky hair was ruffled by the wind.

Danny heard his breathing hitch as he made eye contact, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Ah. Red Robin, got it. So, what brings you to this corner of Gotham, Mr. Red Robin Sir?”

“Saw a weird cold spot on the map,” Red Robin said, his voice slightly more tense than before. “Decided to investigate, but I didn’t expect a teenager to be sitting on a ledge. You mind getting up away from that for me, by the way?”

“No need to stress.” Danny pushed himself up, stretching lazily as he turned. That, however, was apparently a bad decision, as Red tensed even further. “What, do I have something on my face?”

“You’re awfully chatty for an assassin.”

“Would be, wouldn’t I?” He laughed a little, shaking his head. “Too bad I’m retired.”

“And yet, you wear the armor of the League,” Red pointed out. “Sitting across the street from Park Row, and I saw you throw something over the street. Are we going to do this the easy way, or the fun way?”

“Calm down, traffic light,” Danny snickered, showing his open, empty palms. “I’m not here to cause trouble -- in fact, I’m here to help you out. Well, not you specifically, but one of you Bats. I guess this is better than brute-forcing my way into Hood’s territory and getting my shit rocked.”

Red visibly jolted. “Wh- you’re a kid. No adult uses that kind of lingo.”

“Uh, duh, dude,” Danny said, stretching his arms lazily above his head. “Now, can you get Red Hood here or not? I wanna talk to him.”

“Why?”

“Cause he has fuckin rabies, and your City asked me to do her a solid.”

“That… is not an explanation,” Red ground out.

“It is, you just don’t like it,” Danny retorted, a grin tugging at his lips under the respirator. “Now come on, man. Can you get him here or not?”

“Considering he’s a slightly genocidal maniac, I don’t think that’s a super great idea,” Red muttered. “Why do you want him here-- and don’t say rabies, I swear.”

“...Ghost rabies.”

“Jesus fucking hell,” Red groaned. “You’re worse than Nightwing, I swear to God.”

Danny just laughed as Red took a few cautious steps toward him, intentionally relaxing his posture and showing his lack of weapons, lack of intent. “Seriously, man. I just want to help him with his problem, get him some food, kickstart his immune system, and get the hell out of here. I don’t need all y’all fucking in my shit, you know?”

“And what shit is there to fuck in?”

“Shit you’re better off leaving to me.” His face turned serious. “Deadass. You do not want to get wrapped up in this, none of you do. Not the Bats and Birds, not your League, and definitely not John Constantine. Fuck that guy, honestly.”

“I-” Red just stared. “I am so confused right now. Aren’t we supposed to be fighting?”

“Yeah, we would be, but I have this, like, thing… anyway. I’m not out to cause any harm, mischief, or otherwise Bad Stuff. Scout’s honor, I promise.” He went through the motion of the Boy Scouts salute, failing halfway through. “Eh, I wasn’t a boy scout, give me some slack. Anyway. Can you get me Red Hood here, or not?”

Footsteps behind him, again, damnit he’s distracted, announced the arrival of yet more people. “I’m afraid not,” came the growl of the man he’s been so completely dreading. Shit, he should’ve booked it when he saw Red Robin in the first place. This is going terribly.

Oblivious to Danny’s internal panic, Batman loomed over the teenager, the shadows clinging to him and really hyping up the intimidation factor. “Why are you looking for the Red Hood?”

Danny took a slight step back, his boot scuffing the ledge. “Just wanna help the guy, honest to God,” he said. “I’m gonna reach back into my bag, is that okay? I don’t have a weapon.”

“What’s on your belt, then?” Batman challenged, gesturing to the hilt tucked into Danny’s belt.

“Something I’m not gonna go for. I’ll even use my left hand to get the stuff from my bag, not my right, if that makes you feel better,” Danny offered. “Look, seriously. I just want to get this guy feeling better, then dip.”

A scoff caught his attention. “And we are supposed to believe that? You wear the armor of the League of Assassins, and are hunting the Red Hood, going so far as to seek out Red Robin and cause enough attention that we are brought in for backup. And yet, you insist you mean no harm?”

No.

Shit. Fuck. That’s not possible.

It couldn’t be possible. That’s not fair, that’s not right.

Slowly, glowing green eyes tracked from Batman to the figure at his side, taking him in. Lean muscle, strong in the arms and legs, extra armor at his wrists and knees. A sword, a painfully familiar sword strapped to his hip. Red and green and yellow and black--

“...No fucking way,” Danny breathed. “You have got to be shitting me.”

“Excuse me?” Robin-- fucking Robin-- said, voice reflecting his disbelief.

“You have got to be fucking with me!” Danny insisted, turning sharply to gesture at the sky. “Clocky, I am going to have your ass for this!”

He whipped back around, his eyebrows furrowed. “You are supposed to be safe and not galavanting around on goddamn buildings, oh my God, I am going to skin Talia alive for this.”

Okay, maybe not the best thing to say, as everyone on the rooftop except Danny tensed. “Not- not literally! Jeez!”

“Who are you?” Batman intoned, his voice leaning against ‘threatening’ territory.

“Just-- sht-tt-tt,” he tisked at Batman, staring down Robin whose hand was hovering near his sword hilt. “I am going to fucking-- oh my God, you’re not supposed to be doing this, how did you even get here, what?! I’m having a fucking crisis.” Danny groaned, stepping back and running his hands through his hair as he paced the ledge of the rooftop. “What the fuck are you doing as Robin, Damian?” TAGLIST: @mynameisnotlaura @fisticuffsatapplebees @screamingtofillthevoid @lizisipancardo @digitizedworld @dahliasandrosemary NEXT CHAPTER: ==>

#ticnsfd #dpxdc #dpxdc fanfic #rainycat writing

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doublebasstotheface · 1 year

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January 16, 2022

All weekend Leo and I spent time chatting with each other. Whether it was text or over the phone, we’re just getting super close. Currently I am very content with being friends, although the irrational part of my brain wants it be more. I dont know what to do! It’s weird.

I guess some important backstory on my own life: I broke up with my ex-boyfriend of almost a year in September and the breakup went terribly. My boundaries were pushed beyond reparation and I am quite frankly scared to date again. This ex and I had been friends for about 5 years before the relationship and I didn’t really recognize that our friendship was so one sided until he confessed to me. And I thought I’d give being in a relationship with him a try - he was moderately attractive and we had good chemistry, why not? But it became incredibly clear to me once we started dating that our platonic chemistry, no matter how strong, did not translate well into romantic chemistry. We bickered constantly over school and work: we worked at the same retail job, myself at a slightly higher level, and I was attending university while he was working full time.

My academic ambitions are great, and my work ethic is stellar. I work part time on the weekends and I attend university full time. I am an incredibly artistic person and a hard worker (majority of the time). This clashed with his laid-back personality and relaxed work ethic, and his lack of clarity on what he wants to do in life. It wasn’t so much the lack of clarity that was bothering me, but more so the lack of motivation to do anything about it. Personally, I would find some fun in not knowing exactly what to do. I could take a first year course in everything that interests me and I could figure it out from there! That would be so fun. But he didn’t want to do that, he didn’t really want to go to uni in the first place.

I bring up all of that backstory because Leo also doesn’t have stellar academic ethic. Despite my best attempts, he does not show up to class often (although its only the second week back… hopefully he’ll get better), and he really does the bare minimum to pass. With Leo I think there’s something else holding him back - I know for a fact his ADHD doesn’t help - that he perhaps has not revealed to me. That I understand. What gives me some hope for him is that he’s incredibly motivated to be great at his instrument. He’s an incredible bass player. More skilled than I will ever be, mostly because that is where I am not motivated. If we were to combine our brains, we would be such a force to be reckoned with (that or depressed with no motivation).

My brain is at war with itself. On one hand, he’s a wonderful person: he’s kind, intelligent, thoughtful, artistic and very handsome, but on the other, his tardiness or lack of effort entirely to show up to class is such a turn off. Maybe it will change once we’re out of the pressure cooker that it university? Maybe he’s the right person at the wrong time? I don’t know. But what I DO know is that he’s ‘willing to see what happens once we’re in better places in our lives’ in terms of becoming partners… So I guess the feeling is mutual?

Ah. I will probably have more feelings about this soon. Let it be known, this tumblr will be hearing about it.

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magnus-sm-writes · 6 days

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Short Story Update: End of 2023

Believe it or not, when I’m not writing novels, I’m typically working on short fiction. I know I talk a lot about my poetry—and believe me, I do write quite a few poems—, but I’ve been trying to work on my short fiction since October of last year.

What really got me going was the realization that it had been a full year since my last (and only, as of writing this) short story was published. “The Ghost You Left Behind” was published in Coffin Bell’s October 2022 issue. I got a little panicky about that (I think I cried). I’d put off both writing and attempting to submit short stories for quite some time due to the hectic events of my 2023. In short, I needed to do something. I was getting antsy.

I realized I needed to challenge myself more. Constraints equal creativity for me. It’s about testing myself, pushing to see if I can still write to a prompt or not.

This update showcases two short stories of mine: “The Boy & the Hag Stone” and “Plastic Fangs”.

Out of both of them, you might think that “Plastic Fangs” was written first. But I actually began “The Boy & the Hag Stone” in October, and didn’t begin writing “Plastic Fangs” until December. What can I say? I’m a spooky boy year-round, except when it’s spooky season. Then I’m just a regular boy.

For both of these stories, I was inspired by visuals. Honestly, for any story, I am inspired by visuals. I don’t think in words; I think in pictures.

For “Hag Stone”, I was thinking a lot about the stone in Coraline. That cool little guy is actually rooted in beliefs that hag stones protected you from evil, and that looking through one could reveal hidden evils. Not exactly how it’s used in the movie, but I’m willing to give it a pass because I’m a sucker for a good Laika movie. I was also inspired by how much I personally hate wearing shoes. (I work in an office, and my coworkers know that I am most focused without my shoes on.)

“Plastic Fangs” was fun because it was my Halloween piece. (Just two months late on that, as always.) I had this idea of a scene where a vampire went as himself for Halloween. Not a very original idea, I know, but I was so inspired that I drafted the story in less than two days, and wrote a second draft in just as much time.

(This is why I thought I could easily finish 2 short stories in the month of February. Which I did not do.)

These stories flowed from me with an ease that felt almost surreal. It was truly incredible. Perhaps that was because I had just gotten my full-time job and was finally able to stick to a schedule. Writing around an hourly work schedule was difficult for me because it was so unpredictable. However, with my work hours set (and by virtue of that, my writing hours set as well), I can easily finish more writing now than I could before, when I had objectively more time to finish things.

Both of these stories were fun additions to my growing collections of stories with fantastical elements.

“The Boy & the Hag Stone” is about Rishi, a man who’s a little directionless in life, and the strange man he meets called Banshee. Banshee is the biggest manic pixie dream boy I’ve ever written. Quite frankly, I want to write more for him, even though he’s a very difficult person to write dialogue for.

It is a little over 5000 words, though it needs some serious revisions. Somewhere in the middle, the style completely changes. I was going for a vaguely fairytale-esque vibe, in honor of the professor who encouraged me to write fantasy once again. It didn’t exactly work the first time around. Hopefully, a second pass will allow me to salvage the idea, because I think it fits the tone quite well. Banshee is mysterious enough to be a small-town folk legend. Funnily enough, that is my ultimate goal in life.

My quote for “Hag Stone” is from Coraline, of course: “I think most things are pretty magical, and that it’s less a matter of belief than it is one of just stopping to notice.” I think that describes Banshee’s outlook on life perfectly. It’s not only that he himself is magical: he believes the world is full of magic, and that he’s just more attuned to it than the average person.

What I love most about “Hag Stone” is that Rishi is just as willing to go along with Banshee’s weirdness as I would be. He’s having a far more interesting early-twenties crisis than I did. Mine ended (I think) when I became an administrative assistant; Rishi’s ended when he met a man who could see the future. We are not the same.

EXCERPTS

His mother had swallowed a hag stone when she was pregnant, they say. He blew through town for a wedding. Though his name was Ian, they called him Banshee.

Banshee came into people’s lives just as they needed him and left like a ghost. He was wild and unkempt, save for the polished stone around his neck, and had blank, colorless eyes like asphodels. I was a fool to let him sieve through my fingers, but I know I’ll see him again.

For some reason, I thought he would taste earthy. Like a mouthful of dirt, or of sand. Rotting leaves. Or like a mouthful of sugar. Pure and sweet. Like home, turmeric and sweat and heat, or home, wood polish and vanilla perfume and fresh laundry, or home, dust and stale noodles and horse. Banshee tasted like none of that, but somehow made me think of all of it. He tasted like a new home I could slip into.

Songs I listened to while writing “Hag Stone”:

Haunted House - Florence + the Machine

Nobody - Mitski

Almost (Sweet Music) - Hozier

I Will Wait - Mumford & Sons

The second short story, “Plastic Fangs”, is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. Marcellus is a vampire on the hunt for a lover and a good meal all in one. He finds that in Abel. But all is not as it seems.

It’s a rather wordy short story at 5800 words. The ending is the shakiest part. That much is typical of how I write short stories. (That is: with no ending in mind, only what feels natural.)

“Plastic Fangs” was one of those works I finished in two days at most. I actually began writing the second draft before I finished the first. Marcellus experienced such dramatic character development in the middle of the story that I just had to change the beginning because it didn’t fit anymore. Originally, he was just a run-of-the-mill, angst-filled vampire. Now he’s just a strange person that reads people’s diaries to learn their deepest secrets. For a dead guy, he’s full of life.

Abel is a good contrast for Marcellus. He’s a little angsty, pretty lost. Marcellus has had a lot of time to figure himself out; Abel hasn’t. That’s what makes their dynamic so interesting to me, I think. They have different life experiences.

I’m certain that “Plastic Fangs” will take far less time to edit than “Hag Stone”. For one, it’s already had one round of edits. I also didn’t take any risks with the prose. It’s a pretty typical example of my style. I could see “Plastic Fangs” and “The Ghost You Left Behind” taking place in the same world. They have the same sort of vibe to them.

The quote for this short story is from Rachelle Lefevre: “The thing I love about vampires that I find so fascinating is that, unlike other sci-fi creations, they aren't monsters from the get-go, they're human beings first... and so what kind of human you are would dictate what kind of vampire you would be.”

EXCERPTS

In October, Marcellus’ penchant for the dramatic—that which made him what he is today—gets to come center stage as he attends various costume parties, parades, festivals. He buys a set of flimsy plastic fangs that sit strangely in his mouth. Tacky in a charming way. An amateur stage adaptation of Dracula.

Marcellus loved performing Doctor Faustus in the troupe. We understand Faustus better than nearly anyone, Julius said, because we’ve already sold our souls for profane power. He understands making selfish decisions; Faustus was only his favorite because Julius got to be affectionate as Mephistophilis.

Abel has a small, blown-out tattoo that might have once been a smiley face right above his hip.

Songs I listened to while writing “Plastic Fangs”:

Howl - Florence + the Machine

Waltz of the Bone King - Peter Gundry

Ravenous - Autumn Orange

Haunted House - Florence + the Machine

These two stories really helped drag me out of a writing slump. Moving into my parents’ house did a number on me mentally and creatively, and I only managed to get out of that when I began working full-time and forcing myself to go out more instead of succumbing to my depression as I was. I think you can tell that I was still pretty depressed when I wrote “Hag Stone”, even if it is a story about hope.

My husband actually suggested I try turning “Plastic Fangs” into a book. I think there’s potential with that. These characters interest me so much that I want to do way more with them than I can within the parameters of a short story. I have a few scenes written for a larger project with them, but I’m not quite sure where that will take me.

Please ask to be added to the taglist! I'm tagging @bardicbeetle, because Larkspur is and always will be my inspiration for writing weird shit about vampires. <3

#writing update #my writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #creative writing #magnus writes

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worldofroma · 11 months

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April 21 2023, Friday - 1:10pm

It’s been quite a while since I’ve gotten the chance to write on this again. A lot of shit has happened, actually.

I got super sick. Like, super fucking sick. Pretty sure it was COVID as I was completely bed-ridden for 4 days, my head and ears full of pressure and my throat hurting so bad I could barely breathe. Not only that, but everytime I did breathe, I made a weird gurgling kind of sound and it was absolutely disgusting.

I got a job. Finally. But I’m working at Tim Hortons. Gross. I’ve learned how they make some of my favourite drinks, foul. Yet I’ll still continue to drink them almost every damn day.

Practiced driving a lot more as my driving test for G2 is coming up next Tuesday. Was doing great until my instructor told me that they think I’ll be fine on the test, immediately ran a stop sign and turned the opposite way that I had my signal on for. Nice.

Discovered the side of me that could be considered a slut. But now I understand the reason why so many women turn to it, it’s so exciting and quite frankly entertaining. Theres this stupid website, some kind of thing for pen pals, idfk, but the amount of disgusting men on there is outstanding. I made an account and within 10 minutes, I had 17 messages from 17 different men (yes, men, all over the age of 25) telling me how beautiful I am and the things they’d love to do to my “young, teen body”. Fucking disgusting. But, I reply anyways. I’m addicted to the attention they give me and how little effort I have to put in to getting it. All I have to do is respond with short, sweet, and flirty answers and they’re all over me. I love it.

Met someone on the website who I think is my twin flame. He’s only a few months younger than me, lowkey cringe, but we are so alike. But, now that we’ve been texting back and fourth for a good 5 days now, I’ve definitely been humbled. In short, let’s just say we used this app called RAVE to watch a movie without being in the same place. He chose the movie. He chose Fight Club. Need I say more?

I’m writing this on the last day of my co-op, thank the lord. I kind of feel bad for hating it, but I told the teacher I was an assistant for that I enjoyed it even though almost every day I sat at the back table cutting out laminated cards or instructions to a game I never knew existed. It was dreadful, but I managed.

I killed a bug today, a big brown shiny one that made a crunching noise when I stepped on it. Felt really bad afterwards. Don’t really know why, I’ve never cared before.

Oh, and back to the guy I mentioned in 5, his name is Atlas by the way, he’s so smart yet so fucking douchy about it. Not in a bad way though, I honestly enjoy being told by him. But at one point, we had this super long typical conversation about the meaning of life and what happens after death. He’s fully convinced that there is no God, there is no Heaven or Hell. There’s just nothing after death. And he’s okay with it too, but I’m not sure I am. I think that might be why I felt bad for killing the bug. All it was trying to do was hide under some shelf but I purposely went out of my way to end it’s life in a split second, leaving it in the emptiness of the afterlife forever on. Atlas also told me that he killed someone, or may have at least. Apparently he was drunk some time ago and was approched by an even more drunk old man who tried to come onto him, rape him I guess, and he beat him to the point he has no clue if the man survived. He also told me he’d be willing to eat human flesh. I don’t know why, but I’m not afraid of him like anyone else would be after hearing this stuff from him. I actually find it rather comforting that he trusts me enough to tell me things like that after not even knowing me for a week yet. He says he’s really glad we met, but I think if we ever met in real life, it would be catastrophic.

Also, yesterday I skipped co-op just to sleep. Woke up at 7:30, decided I didn’t want to go, and then went back to bed only to wake up at 2pm without waking once. I think If I had the choice, I’d stay in bed forever. Now I understand My Year of Rest and Relaxation.

So thats what my life has been like recently. Fucking hell if you ask me. But on top of everything thats going on, I’ve been thinking a lot about what my future is going to look like. If I want to get anywhere in this world without living a life of depression, I need to marry rich. In this world, you don’t get anywhere without aqquiring a job in STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math) and I fucking hate all four of those things. All I want to do is write. I want to write stories that someone will read once and remember for the rest of their lives. I want to be a movie director so I can bring those books to life and create a masterpiece out of each one. But you don’t get anywhere like that without money and as of right now, I have $2.09 in my bank account. Savings and all. And by the looks of it, I’ll either be marrying someone extremely fucked up and insane like Atlas, or some rich old perverted white guy who will be willing to give me anything if I strip down. And in all honesty, I don’t mind either. As long as I’m getting the attention I deserve and the time to spend on writing, I couldn’t give a shit who I spend it with.

Also, I’m not sure if I’ll ever be capable of loving someone. I remember this one time before we broke off completely, Kyra and I decided to take a break from our friendship as I didn’t feel I was getting anything out of it compared to what I was putting into the friendship. My stepdad, Paul, decided to tell me during that break that he was convinced Kyra and I were in some kind of secret relationship because of how often we’d spend time together, but we were only so close because we only had each other for years. During that conversation, he went on to tell me that no matter how long we spend a part, we would always find our way back to being friends because even if we didn’t want to admit it, we loved each other. This was after I made it clear that I’m straight, by the way, so this so called love was more just in a family way because it was the only other option. But that wasn’t the case. Her and I never had any love for each other, only depdenance and a sort of guilt that if we didn’t hang out with each other, we’d be a bad person. A bad friend. I realized that after she started hanging out with me only to use my weed and get my mother to buy her pods. Another reason I don’t think I could ever love someone is because I have no commitment skills. If I ever somehow get in a relationship with a guy, I can almost guarantee that I’ll be tired of them before the 1 year mark, if I even make it that far. It’s kind of funny it worked out that way though seeing I have serious abandonment issues. If I get abandoned, I’ll never recover from it, but if I abandon someone else, they’ll likely never cross my mind again unless it’s because I’m internally insulting them. This is why I know I’m not a good person. I’m selfish. I don’t care about how my actions affect others, but if someone were to hurt me, I’d find a way to make them pay for it.

Another thing that’s been on my mind lately is what kind of illness I have. I don’t want to be diagnosed because as much as it can be nice to know how to treat whatever I have, then I’ll know for sure that theres something wrong with me that can never truly be fixed. Also, then I’ll know that I’m nothing more than a younger version of my parents, the mixture of those two being the worst possible outcome of a child there can be. I’d rather just go on forever thinking that whatevers wrong with me could just be in my head, whether that sounds better or not. But I know theres something wrong with me, and Atlas knows too. He and I were talking about the issues we had since he’s not a stranger with mental health issues either. He’s an insomniac (or so he says, I honestly think he may just be adapting the personality of that guy from Fight Club after he was so eager to show me), and he clearly has some kind of personality disorder. Likely DID he says, and he thinks thats what I have too. He says that those occurances I’ve had where I’ve done awful things without having a reason, such as attempting to run away, could be the result of untreated DID. In all honesty, even if I haven’t spoken to him for very long, it’s kind of obvious he does have DID. Sometimes when I’m messaging him, I notice a split in his personality that he thinks is normal. We’ll both be talking about really personal things, things I often mention in here, and he’ll randomly tell me to stop talking about it so he doesn’t start spiralling or doesn’t want to come off as someone who doesn’t care about my problems. Regardless, he’s not shy when it comes to telling me to shut up. Frankly, I’m not sure if that’s really DID or him being flat out about not caring what I have to say. It’s odd though, because other times he tells me how glad he is that we met and that we’re able to chat and gets a little impatient when I don’t answer him right away either, which is why I do believe he has DID. But again, he could just be a shitty person. I’m not sure what I’d rather him be.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this yet, but I think I also might have some kind of schizo illness. I say schizo illness and not schizophrenia because schizophrenics aren’t often aware of themselves having it, but I do have a lot of the symptoms and I’m fully aware of it. I’m constantly seeing people or figures or animals, my cats in particular, in random places wherever I am. Sometimes just out of the corner of my eye, other times they’ll be right in front of me until I look at them. It only freaks me out when they’re moving, though. It’s always super quick and right towards me, it’s fucking chilling. Also, when it’s too quiet, I hear things talking to me. Men, women, children, old people. I always hear it, but it’s not common for me to understand what they’re saying. A lot of the time, it’s jumbled or sounds like they’re under water almost. Sometimes I hear whistling too. It’s weird. I also get extreme paranoia. Everyone always has that one emotion their driven by whether it’s happiness, sadness, anger, blah blah blah. But what drives me most of the time is fear. Anxiety. It’s so bad that sometimes when I’m in my room by myself for too long, I start thinking that whatever screen is in front of me such as my phone or tv will randomly get hacked into and jumpscare me with horrific images and loud noises. When has that ever happened? Never. What are the chances of it happening? Likely slim to nothing. Yet I think about it almost daily and when I do, I have to leave the room and stare at a wall or I’ll have a panic attack. Similarly, I get extra paranoid at night and find it really hard to leave my room after a certain time. I’m afraid that once the lights are out, something will be lurking in the dark ready for whenever I dare to step foot out. I never know what this thing will do to me, but I don’t want to find out which is why sometimes I’ll go to bed with a full bladder or a full face of make up on. I can’t even go to the bathroom without freaking out about something that’s not even there. I’ve convinced myself that wherever I go, specifically my home and bathroom, a camera or thousands of cameras are watching me. I don’t know whos watching me, but whoever is is judging me and making fun of me so I have to be perfect all the time. I’m constantly worrying about what I’m doing, what I said, what I look like because of it. I think theres someone secretly living in my basement. My trapped door basement. When I’m home alone, I hear people walking around downstairs and moving things around. Sometimes, I’ll lose things for months and then it’ll randomly appear in the most obvious place I would’ve found only seconds after I’d realized it was lost. Someones fucking with me. Sometimes I think that I have the ability to ‘regenerate’ or ‘heal’ faster than others. Yes I get sick, but I’m convinced that I can fight off any kind of illness or injury much faster than others. I can do it without medications, unlike everyone else. Yet I constantly worry about getting cancer or some unfixable illness. It doesn’t add up. Now that I’m writing all this, I realized how pathetic it all sounds, but it’s the truth. I live like this everyday and I don’t tell a single person. I keep it all in. Not because I’m afraid of what they may say or think of me or what the outcome may be, I simply can’t bring myself to say it. I don’t know why, but I just can’t. No matter how close I get to saying it, I always switch the topic or lie about what I really feel, even to my therapist. I think she knows I’m lying too because almost every appointment she asks “Are you telling me everything or is there something else I should know about? I’m only asking because it’s easy for anyone to put on a mask and fake things.” But I know she knows. And I feel bad for lying about it. It’s not that I don’t trust her or think she’s a bad therapist or anything like that, I think she’s a great person for me to talk to. I honestly just can’t talk about it. Not only that, but it’s just so much easier to force a smile and tell her that I’m fine.

I know that if I ever do admit it, I’ll cry and I hate crying. I don’t even remember the last time I had a good hard cry, I almost feel as if I don’t deserve the tears. That, and the things I could cry about don’t deserve the tears. It’s pointless. I also hate the way I look after I cry. My eyes get all swollen and gross looking and don’t return to normal for a good day or two. Why would I foil my appearance on things that don’t matter. Things I’ll forget within a month or even sooner.

#literature #journaling #aspiring writer

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servin-up-surveys · 2 years

Text

survey #064

Which would you prefer as a view; mountains or the sea? THE MOUNTAINS!!! Who is the tallest person you know and how tall are they? Girt; I don't remember his exact height, but I know it's over six feet. Which word did you say first, mama or dada? "Dada." How old were you when you learned to walk? I don't know, quite sure the normal age. If you had the power to end the world right now, would you? No.

Do people make fun of your skin tone? Some people will pick fun at me just because I'm so pale, but not for being white in general. How about any other physical features? I don't think so. Well no, my mom will sometimes make a joke about just how hairy my legs are, but she doesn't do it in front of others (she knows I am horribly self-conscious about it) and they're always just very light jokes. AC/DC or Van Halen? Van Halen. I like AC/DC okay, but I enjoy Van Halen way more. Do you like breadsticks? Bitch I will ANNIHILATE breadsticks lmao. How far away do you live from your birthplace? I actually live in the same city, but I can't mentally map out how far the house I was born into is from here. I don't even remember the house, just kinda the area. Which would you rather have: a new puppy or kitten? A kitten for sure. Sometimes I think of adopting one more cat, but I really do enjoy just having Roman to spoil, plus I am quite sure he'd get very jealous. Who’s the person that has honestly hurt you the most in life? Jason. Is the last person you kissed single now? Nope, we're still dating. Have you ever been to Pride? If not, have you ever been to any sort of Slut Walk or other protest? No, but I REALLY want to go at the very least once in my life. I just have to be able to stand and walk for an extended period. How many people would you say you are close with? Who are they? Hmm, my mom, my boyfriend, Tez, and Mazzy are probably really the only people I'm genuinely *close* with. If there is a specific celebrity (or two, or three!) that you dislike, is it because of petty reasons or is it because they’ve done something absolutely damning in your mind? Logan and Jake Paul stand out. I don't know how much they've grown (and I do absolutely believe in LETTING people grow out of their pasts), but both at least WERE immensely obnoxious, disrespectful, and inconsiderate of those around them. And then of course there's the Suicide Forest video in Logan's case... Are any of your friends/relatives actually impressive artists or writers? Are you willing to share an example of their work? Yes, actually! I have so many, but I'll go with my moooom's... second-cousin or something? I think it's safe to share his name, Tom Lasley; he has a website if you wanna see his work, which is like crafty assemblage and collage art. It's very very unique and he has such intricate pieces that usually carry a political message. Have you ever gotten alcohol poisoning? Nope. Know anyone who’s asexual? I might, idk. How many boyfriends have you had? How about girlfriends? For all that had the title, no matter how short they were, I've had five boyfriends and one girlfriend. And how many of the above were actual relationships? Three. What’s the most you’ve ever spent on a girlfriend/boyfriend? ... I almost said "I don't know," but actually, I can take an educated guess: the promise ring I eventually got Sara. Yeah, THAT happened. Do you usually go on dates with your partners? The only partner I really had dates with was Jason, sometimes Girt though. What’s the shortest time you’ve ever went out with someone? How about longest? Less than a day; three and a half years. Ever been engaged at a young age? Nah. Were you ever religious in the past? I sure was and I will always be embarrassed by it, quite frankly. It made me a terrible person. How many times have you been dumped? Twice. Ever had sex with the same gender? I am gonna be completely honest here, I don't really know when exactly two women are considered to be "having sex." But regardless, I wouldn't say so, no. What is your favorite thing to do with your significant other? Probably playing video games together. Do you have someone you look up to? Of course; Markiplier will ALWAYS be number one, I'm sure. I haven't regularly watched him for like... two years but he did a small lil life update stream a few nights ago that I ended up catching and smiling so much seeing him doing so well and just never fucking stopping be a legend. Time of day you were born? Like 11:30 A.M. Is there any medication you refuse to take? (Like for ADHD, etc.) Past meds that made me gain weight, yes. Paxil and Abilify come to mind first. There was also an antidepressant I was on in middle school that turned me into a fucking demon that I will NEVER take again. I can't remember the name of it right now, but thankfully my mother knows it. Have you ever or do you have an abusive significant other? I don't and never have. Have you gotten caught in a HUGE lie to your parents? No. Have you ever been on probation or arrested? If so, what for? No sir. Have you ever had or been part of an intervention? No. Have you ever seen cocaine, ecstasy, heroin, or acid? Have you done it? No to both questions. Do you have any obsessions right now? I think Rammstein is the obnoxiously obvious answer lmao. Then there's ALWAYS meerkats, and I've been watching some Silent Hill let's plays lately that have me deeper into the franchise than my resting level of enthusiasm for it, lol. Who’s in your profile picture with you? On Facebook, it's me and Roman. What was the best decision you ever made? Letting Jason go. Do you have any stickers on your car? Mom doesn't have any on hers. Have you ever given someone flowers? Yes, Jason. When was the last time that you created a PowerPoint? Back when I was attempting college the final time, the school I went to mandated freshmen to have this homeroom class of basically warming up to college life, and my classmates and I all had to make like this "about me" PowerPoint to help us get to know each other and make friends. It stressed me out SO badly because I just hate sharing stuff in front of a group with all the attention on me. I'm pretty sure I was the last person to go. Post a picture of you from a recent time. No, I'm ugly and very very few (and worst of all, candid) exist anyway. Have you ever been on a ferris wheel that had swinging cages/gondolas? Were you in the swinging cage/gondola or too chicken to go on it? Yeah... Jason and I got on one at the city fair we went to very close to the breakup. That night's a bittersweet memory to me. I had so much fun and went so far out of my comfort zone with the rides. I had no idea literally my everything was about to just totally change. If you were pregnant how long would you wait to tell the dad? I honestly wouldn't wait even a heartbeat because I'd want to get on scheduling an abortion absolutely ASAP. Have you ever cleaned up someone else's vomit? No; I couldn't, ever. I've never been able to be the one even picking up vomit after my pets, and it's one of the many reasons I don't want kids because I would NOT be able to clean it. I am fucking wildly averse to vomit. The sight, the sound of it, and I do NOT want to know the touch. Who was the last to call you beautiful? Girt. Do you know anyone who wrote a book? Not personally, but a distant cousin of mine wrote Not Without My Daughter. Great book. Have you ever found a spider on your bed? I have in the past. Always spooks me. I may like spiders, but I don't want one invading my space without me knowing. Last hickey was from? Jason, many many years ago. Have you ever put a "kick me" sign on the back of someone? No, that is so mean. Can bald guys, ever be attractive? HELLO have you fucking seen Oliver Riedel how dare u even ask ME What would you do if someone ran at you with a knife? Uh, die. I'm not outrunning ANYBODY because I can't run. I mean I guess I'd try to grab the arm with the knife to take it, but idk. I'd really probably just be a deer in headlights. What was the last item you bought? That I bought myself, Girt's anniversary present. What is your favorite romance movie? The Notebook, ngl. I'm a basic white bitch in this field lmao. Do you have mood swings around the time of the month? I do sometimes, and it seems to be a pattern that the day before I start is my worst. Crying that day over something isn't rare. Ever been offered weed? I think my friend Summer has once. Can you remember what color your ex’s eyes were? "The" ex and my most recent ex both had brown eyes. Idr the others for sure. Does the sight of blood make you feel sick? No. However, yesterday while I was having blood taken I held two vials of it to help my nurse out and I did feel weird, actually HOLDING my own blood in two little tubes. Not sick at all, though. Just strange, like my body knew that shouldn't be out of me. Last energy drink you had? Girt likes G-Fuel and I've tried sips of two flavors of it, and oh my god they're repulsive. I don't know how he does it. Have you ever made out in a hot tub? Nah. Are you happy with your weight? NO. However, I actually did learn some stuff yesterday at the doc when getting ready for this weight loss program that my "healthy" weight is quite bigger than what *I* wanted to get to; my goal weight was like, 130-ish, which I now know is absolutely ridiculous. They have a scale there (that literally costs thousands of dollars) that picks up incredible detail about your body composition and stuff and apparently my truly healthy weight would be like, 160-ish. It was nice to hear honestly because that seems more obtainable. The last plane you were on, where was it going? Home from Illinois. Will you be buying concert tickets any time soon? Rammstein should be announcing more US tour dates next month and I am PRAAAAYINNNNNG they pick a venue near here laksdjflakjew;l What industry do you want to be a part of when you’re older? Art. What was the last area that was bleeding on your body? The nook of my elbow from getting blood drawn. My vein was doing its damnedest to not cooperate so the nurse had to move the needle around A LOT. I'm surprised it's not horribly bruised today. Who was the last person to comment on one of your statuses? I just checked and that would be Mazzy. It was a picture though, not an actual status. Have you ever gotten bitten or your hair pulled while fooling around? Bitten, yes, but not the latter and I am quite positive I would hate that anyway. How many times have you been to the ER for yourself? God, too many. I lost count. What are you listening to? I'm watching WoolieVS play the remake/"demake" of Bloodborne. Such an impressive project, I've been meaning to watch someone play it for months. It's basically the reduction of the game to how it would look, hear, function, etc. on a PS1, which is an aesthetic I love. What is your favorite thing to eat with peanut butter? Ugh, chocolate. PB-encasing chocolate is my fucking weakness. Ever kissed someone else’s boyfriend/girlfriend? No. Name one of your ex’s mother’s names? Virginia. When’s your grandma’s birthday? My mom's mom's has always been easy to remember, because Mom was born a day before Grandma's bday, which was August 6th. What, other than music, is your “outlet”? Drawing or writing poetry. Do you remember the exact words that were said to end your last relationship? No. Who was the last person you slow danced with, and to what song? Jason. "Stairway To Heaven" by Led Zeppelin. There was a joke behind the concept and we ended up actually doing it. It hurts to write about. Who was the last person of the opposite sex to text you? My dad. Have you ever been called a tease? Yeah. Are your parents racist? I know my dad is. My mom claims to not be, but she absolutely profiles people and believes some stereotypes. Are any of your siblings married? All but Nicole are. Nicole actually did just get into a new relationship though for the first time in a LONG time; you have to really, really fucking impress her to get her to date you. He's a fireman and apparently a real good guy! I'm happy for her, she deserves an actual Prince Charming. Do you like jalapeños? I LOVE jalapeno pizza. What is the longest you’ve been home alone? Around two weeks when my mom was in New York as her mother was dying. I normally would go insane being completely alone that long, but I remember I'd just gotten into some new hyperfixation (don't remember exactly what) that kept me happy and entertained while I was alone. Are you planning on spending the night at anyone’s house soon? I kinda wanna spend the night with Girt on his birthday coming up, but I don't wanna push that on him because he's suuuuper self-conscious of letting me see his room 'cuz apparently it's a mess. He doesn't believe me when I say I don't care. Have you ever had a grandparent come live with you? No. What color is the house across the street? If there isn’t one over there, what about the one next to you? It's a grayish light blue with a white trim. Who makes the majority of the food for Thanksgiving in your family? I want to say Ashley? Does your house have a real chimney? Yes. Do you prefer to fall asleep with the TV on or off? Off. The noise as well as the light bugs me. Do you like sitting on the inside or outside of a restaurant booth? I honestly don't care much, but I guess on the outer edge. More spacious. Out of all of your friends/relatives, who would you say has the best vocabulary? Probably Girt. You want your next pet to be what? I WANT it to be a tarantula, but Mom remains pretty firm on not allowing that so long as I live with her, lol. Realistically it'll probably be a western hognose snake. <3 I want a new baby so bad, sobs. What is a dessert that you DON’T like? Almost any pie. What is your favorite thing about Christmas? Seeing my nieces and nephew so excited. Plus just the whole cozy vibe of it all. And the celebration of togetherness. Do you prefer white or black electronics? Black. Are there any people you don’t like for your significant other/crush to talk to? No; I trust his judgment. Have you ever participated in one of those “guess how many jelly beans, mints, etc. are in this jar!” contest? If so, have you ever won? Oh wow... yes. I remember Jenn (Jason's brother's wife) had one at her baby shower. I still remember the theme was light blue. This memory is so fucking painful because this happened shortly after the breakup when Jason and I were trying to still be friends, but obviously we didn't last long. I wanted to meet that baby so badly.

#survey #surveys #random questions #random surveys

0 notes

tobesolonely · 3 years

Text

grammy night

A/n: like most of you, watching harry perform WS did something to me. i rushed to my computer to write this IMMEDIATELY... not proofread but i hope u all enjoy nonetheless! Thanks @nationalharryleague for looking this over and hyping me up.

summary: y/n wants to show her grammy winning boyfriend just how proud she is of him💕

warnings: smut, mentions of the pandemic!

word count: ~3k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You decided that “Harry Styles, Grammy-nominated artist!” had a lovely ring to it.

Harry knew how proud you were of him; you had been making it known to him in the days leading up to his big night. You fretted over him more than you usually did, showered him in an obnoxious amount of compliments, and were the most intimate you’d ever been with him–– but who was he to complain?

Obviously, he knew you could care less whether he won or lost, and quite frankly, he didn’t care either. Just being able to perform at the Grammy’s, much less open it, was the opportunity of a lifetime. The fact that he was hitting such a big professional milestone with you by his side just made it that much better. You were both buzzing.

It had been months since Harry had performed. You knew how much he missed being in front of a live audience and hearing people scream his name, conceited as he was. He had been spending so much time rehearsing the one song he was performing, wanting it to be absolutely perfect. Your boyfriend was a perfectionist, after all! If he was going to do something, he either did it one hundred and ten percent, or he didn’t do it at all.

Although you were used to your boyfriend’s pre-performance jitters, it still wasn’t an easy sight to see. He would pace so much that beads of sweat would collect in his hairline; he’d shake, tremble, and have to be reminded to breathe. You’d think after ten years of doing this he would be a pro, but he was only human, after all.

“Been so long since I performed in front of people,” Harry muttered to you, examining his reflection in his make-shift dressing room. “‘M nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous,” you reply, coming up behind him to rub his shoulders. He shoots you a look in the mirror. “I know it’s easier said than done but you have nothing to worry about. It’s “Watermelon Sugar” honey–– you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’ve performed this one dozens of times.”

“Things are jus’ so different now,” his voice drops an octave. “What if people are tired of the song?”

“I don’t think people are tired of the song.”

“It played on the radio a lot. Came out in 2019––”

“...And you’ve been busy with other things. No one’s gonna be upset that you haven’t released new music in the middle of a pandemic H, I promise you.”

Harry’s gaze meets yours again in the mirror briefly before he tilts his head back, silently asking for a kiss. You plant one on his lips before grabbing a tissue from a small table beside him, dabbing at his hairline.

“Stop sweating everything off, Harry,” you playfully scold your boyfriend. “Make-up artist has already been by to touch you up three times already, she’s probably running out of product.”

Your boyfriend lightly chuckles at this, causing you to smile. “I’ll just tell my body to cut it out. How’s tha’ sound?”

“Sounds good,” you reply, leaning down to kiss his nose. “You alright?”

You notice Harry deeply inhale. “I think so. How do I look?”

“Like a Grammy-nominated, soon-to-be Grammy-winning, artist.”

Harry’s skin flushes. “Stop it…” The sound of three short knocks on the door of his dressing room causes panic to flood his features.

“Hey, look at me,” you gently grab your boyfriend’s chin, turning his gaze up towards yours. “It’s my job to believe in you when you don’t believe in yourself. If you get nervous just know I’ll be sitting as close to the stage as they’ll let me.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Now, go make me proud.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Breathe me in, breathe me out…”

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought Harry’s nerves in his dressing room were all theatrics. He was so in his element on stage, you were one hundred percent sure no one knew he was so nervous twenty minutes prior that he was turning green. He kept looking out into the small crowd, searching for you, and flashing you a dimpled grin once he did.

You were enjoying watching him prance around the stage while trying to keep up with the band on stage, looking a bit too proud of himself when he was able to stay on the beat while rhythmically snapping his hips along to the song. As the song came to an end and the dimmed lights started coming back on, you were led back to Harry’s dressing room by one of his guards as you heard the next performer being introduced.

“How did I do?” Harry asks loudly, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

His voice causes you to jump. “You scared the shit out of me! How’d you get off stage so quickly?”

Harry grabs your arm and pulls you off the couch, wrapping you in a tight, sweaty hug. “Don’t know. I basically ran to ya.”

“You did incredibly,” you tell him, lips ghosting over his. “Just like I knew you would. I don’t wanna say you were nervous for nothing, but you kinda were.”

“Don’t wanna hear your teasin’.”

“Did you see how everyone was looking at you?”

“I only saw how you were lookin’ at me. I was only lookin’ at you.”

Your body heats up at Harry’s admission, causing you to look away. “You’re so cheesy, H.”

“I think I would’ve been about fifty times more nervous if you weren’t here with me,” he presses his nose against yours. “Thank you for bein’ here, Y/N. You make this whole thing so much more doable.” Harry places one… two… three wet kisses to your cheek before pulling away, walking back over to close the door he left open during his excitement to re-join you.

“Changing?”

“Yeah,” Harry turns to look at you as he pulls off his jacket. The sight of his bare chest causes you to thickly swallow. “‘M gonna put what I was wearin’ on the red carpet back on. We’re gonna move outside.”

You simply hum in response to what Harry said, sitting back on the couch to scroll through your phone as you wait for him to finish changing. Everyone was congratulating Harry on his performance and wishing him luck on his nominations. You read all the good luck texts for him that were sent to you out loud, watching as his smile grows bigger and bigger from all the love he was being showered in.

After helping Harry powder his T-zone you let him lead you out of the small room and out into an area with spaced-out circular tables, most of them with just two or three seats at them. The Grammy’s in the middle of a pandemic was unlike anything you had ever seen before, and you were pleasantly surprised at how smoothly things were running. Jeff is already sat at the table when you and Harry join him and you can visibly see him let out the breath he was holding.

“Your boyfriend ran off stage so quickly I thought I was gonna have to set up a search party to find him,” Jeff tells you, a slight hint of annoyance present in his voice. He then turns to Harry and says, “Fix your mask, please.”

“It is fixed,” Harry grumbles but adjusts it nonetheless, causing you to giggle.

Even though it was obvious your boyfriend was enjoying himself, you could still tell he was extremely nervous the closer it became to announcing the winner of the category he was nominated in. His grip on your thigh kept growing tighter and tighter and although you didn’t hate it, you worried he might cut off your circulation soon if he didn’t let go of you soon.

“H, take a deep breath,” you lean over to whisper in his ear. “You’re gonna make my thigh fall off.”

“Sorry, love,” if you could see his mouth under his mask, you’d see him biting his plump lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my fuckin’ life.”

“Never?”

“Have I?”

“I dunno. I’m asking you.”

You see Harry’s eyes crinkle. “Maybe when I asked you out for the first time.”

“You are seriously so cheesy.”

Harry doesn’t respond, just takes your hand in his and directs his attention back to the stage. His palm is sweaty in yours but you don’t release his grip on your hand, wanting to offer him as much comfort as you possibly could.

When they start naming the nominees for Best Pop Solo Performance, you literally have to remind Harry to control his breathing. Although he won’t be upset if he doesn’t win, you know it would still mean quite a bit to him if he did.

“And the winner for Best Pop Solo Performance is… Harry Styles!”

Your mouth falls open in shock as you turn to fully face your boyfriend who was looking down at your intertwined hands, eyes wide in surprise. He genuinely wasn’t expecting to win and that made this victory that much sweeter.

“Harry!” You yell to be heard above the cheers and applause of his colleagues in the crowd. Jeff stands and grabs Harry’s hand, pulling him out of his seat and into a tight hug. You stand up and clap loudly in admiration for your boyfriend, willing the tears not to fall from your eyes. He removes himself from Jeff and pulls you into him, your head pressed against his chest.

“I won a fuckin’ Grammy!” Harry shouts.

“I know!” You shout back, probably more excited than he was. “Get up there!”

Your boyfriend quickly removes his mask and hands it to you before hurrying to the makeshift stage, hugging the presenter before touching his Grammy in awe. He picks it up and then slowly sets it back down, shaking his head in disbelief.

“To everyone who made this record with me, thank you so much…”

You can’t stop the few tears that spill over your waterline–– you were so unbelievably proud of him. You’re not even paying attention to his acceptance speech as you’re too preoccupied with looking at everyone staring at your boyfriend in admiration.

“Lastly, I want to thank my girlfriend who’s sitting right there next to my manager, Jeffrey. She’s my number one fan, always believes in me when I don’t believe in myself,” he looks down at his shoes bashfully. “Wouldn’t be half the man I am today if it weren’t for her. This is our Grammy, love.”

You blow kisses to your boyfriend, ignoring the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you. As far as you were concerned, you and Harry were the only two people around at that moment. Your heart couldn’t have been any more full.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

To absolutely no one's surprise, you and Harry couldn’t keep your hands off each other for the remainder of the night. You were relieved there were no after parties being held that Harry would be expected to attend due to the pandemic because you could not get him alone fast enough.

“Slow down, Y/N,” Harry sets his Grammy on the foyer table as he kicks off his shoes. “Just us, innit? We’ve got all night, haven’t we?”

“I’m just so proud,” you tell him breathlessly, sucking on the underside of his jaw. “Let me show you.”

“You have been showin’ me. A lot, actually,” Harry leans his head back and closes his eyes in pleasure as you lick tantalizingly slow against his veiny neck. “Guess one more time wouldn’t hurt, though.”

“Do you want me to blow you or not?”

“Oh, so that’s what’s gonna happen here?”

“If you’re gonna be annoying, then no.”

“Kiiiding,” Harry rolls his eyes, pressing a gentle kiss to your nose. “C’mon, let me get you upstairs.”

”You’re the one that won a Grammy, not me,” you remind him. “Let me make you feel good.”

Harry lets out a quiet hum, guiding you towards the couch. “Exactly–– I’m the winner. Doesn’t that mean I should get what I want tonight?” He falls backward onto the couch, pulling you atop his lap. His hand roams down the front of your dress and he squeezes your breasts roughly, clearly delighted that you decided to forgo a bra tonight.

“I suppose,” you answer, biting back a moan.

“You suppose? Not in the mood for it tonight?” He starts to retract his hand but you grab his wrist, stopping him.

“I am!” You don’t even try to hide how desperate you are for your boyfriend.

“Gonna let me taste you, hmm?” As Harry asks his question he slowly slides off the couch and onto his knees in front of you, bunching your dress up around your hips. He leans in close to your already dripping center and inhales deeply, a blissed-out look on his face. “Smell fuckin’ incredible. I gotta taste ya.”

You spread your legs wider without even thinking about it, almost as if it’s on instinct. Harry easily moves your underwear to the side and immediately connects his lips with your clit, not giving you time to adjust to the sensation before he’s just going at it.

“Oh, Harry…”

“Rings on or off?” His voice is muffled due to your thighs being clamped around his head, but you can still understand what he’s saying.

“On!”

Harry chuckles against your cunt before sliding his index finger in with ease, loving the way you immediately clenched around the digit. “Y’like that, lovie? Wanna take another one?”

“Please.” Your boyfriend already has you breathless despite the fact that he was just getting started.

Harry slips his middle finger into you along with his index finger and starts curling it up in the way he knew you liked, trying his hardest to stimulate your g-spot. He looks extremely focused; leave it to Harry to make a night that was supposed to be all about him, not.

“S’fuckin’ tight,” he says, more so to himself. “You’d think with all the shags we’ve been ‘avin lately you’d be used to my fingers by now.”

You let out a loud groan at your boyfriend’s dirty talk. He knew that it was one of your biggest kinks so he usually overdid it just a tad bit. It’s not like you were complaining, though.

“Guess that means you’re not fuckin’ me hard enough, huh?”

Harry stops his movements and looks up at you through slightly hooded eyes, an amused (but not really) look on his face. “Not fuckin’ you hard enough? Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

You can tell by the tone of Harry’s voice that he has it out for you now, but there’s no use in recanting your statement. He was about to make sweet, primal, love to you and god were you ready. Harry goes back to mercilessly fucking into you with his thick fingers, speeding up or slowing down his pace based on how you clench around him.

”Fuck, H.”

“Feels nice?” He goes from moving his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion to a scissoring motion which feels just as good if not better.

“Yeah, really nice,” your fingers are tangled in Harry’s hair and you know he’ll give you hell later for getting it all knotted. “I’m close.”

“Already? Haven’t even properly fucked you yet,” Harry removes his fingers from you aching cunt agonizingly slow, wiping them on his expensive Gucci trousers. “Guess I’ll jus’ have to fix that, yeah?”

“I guess so.”

“You’ve got a mouth on you tonight, pet. Is that really any way to treat your Grammy-winning boyfriend-”

“Harry, come off it!” You exclaim, letting out a loud laugh as you watch him stand up and unbutton his pants. “You’re insufferable, I swear.”

Harry shoots you one of his blindingly bright smiles, wiggling his eyebrows as his pants pool around his feet. “Hey, ‘m just statin’ facts.”

He collapses onto the couch and pats his lap, giving his leaking cock two quick tugs. “Ride me.”

“Just because you won a Grammy doesn’t mean you don’t have to ask nicely anymore.”

“Y/N, my beautiful, dazzling, elegant girlfriend, will you please do me the honors of riding––”

“Why do you make everything so weird?” You groan as Harry laughs and pulls you into his lap with ease, wincing when your thigh brushes against his cock. Wordlessly, he places his hands on your hips and helps you sink down onto him, taking his lip in between his teeth to keep from yelling out.

”Fuck me…”

“I’m about to,” you reply, resting your head on his shoulder as you adjust to his size. His hands roam the expanse of your back as he waits for you to get used to the feeling on him, wanting to feel every part of your body all at once. Without warning, you begin sluggishly rolling your hips. You were in no rush anymore; you had him inside of you, and that was all you wanted from the start.

“S’that all you got in ya?” His tone is cheeky, almost mocking. “I think you can give me more than tha’.”

“I dunno if I can.”

“Why’s that?” Harry bucks his hips upward slightly causing you to let out a loud gasp.

“I just want you to fuck me. I don’t wanna do any work.”

At this, Harry quickly flips you over so your sweaty body is now below his. You moan at the sensation the new angle immediately brought you. “Want me on top like this? This is how you wanna have me, angel?”

You nod.

“Answer me.”

“Yes, Harry,” your eyes squeeze shut as Harry begins quickly thrusting into you. “God, yes. That feels amazing.”

“Yeah? Do you like it when I fuck you like this?” Harry reaches his hand down to thumb at you clit and raises an eyebrow while awaiting your answer.

“God,” you grab onto your breasts to prevent them from bouncing around as Harry’s thrusting into you but he rips your hand away.

“Wanna see ‘em.”

“Right there,” you moan, no longer trying to bite back your sounds of pleasure. Between Harry eating you out, fingering you, and now fucking you harder than he has in ages, you were a few sloppy thrusts away from coming all over his cock. “I’m gonna cum–”

“...Already?”

You know he’s teasing but you still reach between your sweaty bodies to swat at his bare chest. “Don’t tease!”

“‘M messin’ with ya, puppy,” Harry pushes his curls out of his eyes. “I’m almost there- you first. Cum for me, Y/N.”

Harry doesn’t have to tell you twice. You spasm around his cock as soon as he tells you to, lifting your hips up to meet him as you could tell he was growing tired. Harry pulls out moments later, muttering a quick, “Where do you want it?” before finishing on your chest.

The silence that fills the room is comforting but of course, it’s cut short by your pest of a boyfriend.

“If that's what I got just for winning one Grammy, what would I get if I won the others?”

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic

2K notes · View notes

buckys-black-dress · 3 years

Text

see through

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

a/n: i dont have much to say other than that it's 1 am and i needed to get this out of my system. chapter 4 of play the game is underway, i promise. also, there will be a pov switch in this fic!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. = POV change!

wc: 4.1k words

[ neighbor!bucky barnes x fem!reader ]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Every Friday night, without fail, you saw the light filter into your apartment.

Notice how you said night?

Yeah, it was almost two in the morning, by the way.

And why was there light coming through the chiffon curtains you had hanging on the rod above your window?

(Great choice on your part, by the way.)

Well, because of your neighbor.

You've seen him a few times, actually. Usually on the street outside your buildings, or just out and about. Never spoke to him, though. He was quiet, kept to himself. Didn't seem very friendly or willing to exchange a greeting if he ever saw you.

But you never took it personally. Maybe he was having a bad day. Every time you saw him.

But that's besides the point. The point right now is that you can see the lights blaring in your room. From the apartment across from yours.

Should it even be possible for light to travel that far? I mean, we don't even live in the same building. You think to yourself as you watch the colors dance in the dark.

You debate getting up and yelling out your window to tell him to shut that shit off or to invest in some blackout curtains. You were tired of sacrificing your sleep every week.

But then you decided against it, because you quite frankly could not be bothered to get up from the warmth of your bed. You'd tough it out for the night, but the next time you saw him, you'd have a few words for him.

The next morning, it was almost ten when you woke up. You didn't have your shift at the coffee shop you worked at until three, so you took your time in making your way out of bed.

You noticed the curtains of your neighbor's apartment were still open, but you could see his figure moving across the room. He was clearly on the phone with someone, and he didn't look too happy. You wondered what could have him so angry at such an early time of the morning. He seemed like a person who could use someone to talk to, someone who he could vent to.

But before you let your thoughts get ahead of you, you turn away from the window, heading back into your kitchen to eat breakfast and get ready for the long day ahead of you.

"Hi, what can I get started for you today?" You ask as brightly as you can muster at the moment. You were halfway through your shift, another three hours until close.

"Uh, just a large black coffee." The gruff voice says, and it takes you a second until you look up and look closely.

It was him.

"O-okay, that'll be $3.27." You say, and he hands you a five dollar note before grumbling,

"Keep the change."

"Thanks, and your name?"

He gives you a look that's asking, 'what the fuck do you need my name for?'

"For the order." You try and salvage your dignity, because it feels like the stare shrunk you to a speck of dust.

"James."

That's all he all but growls before turning back to find a seat.

As your coworker takes over the cash register, you grab the biggest cup and fill it with his desired coffee.

You try to not think about it too much, but the anxiety you feel rising up inside you and just calling his name to give him his coffee feels absolutely ridiculous.

"Are you just gonna stare at the cup or give it to the customer?" The voice of your coworker, Jenna, rings in your ears and you look up at her, snapping out of the trance you were in.

"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it today, I guess."

"Everything alright?" She asks, and you nod.

"I'm fine, it's just... that's my neighbor." You nod your head towards where James is sat, in the corner by the window as he watches the raindrops run down the expanse of the glass.

"The one who doesn't let you sleep?"

"Yeah, but I don't think he'd take it too kindly if I tell him about that. He seems to have a lot on his own plate anyways," You explain, and she just nods.

"Well, that sucks, but you still need ta' give the guy his coffee." Jenna smiles and walks back to what she was doing before.

You gently slide out from your spot behind the counter and walk to his table.

"Here's your coffee, James. Enjoy, and- uh, let me know if you'd like anything else." You tell him while placing the steaming cup in front of him.

He murmurs a thank you that you barely catch, but you don't quite have the time to sit and wait for more of a reaction.

For the next several hours, James sits right where he was. He doesn't do anything in particular, either. He just watches outside, as the rain continues to pelt down on New York City, and as people come and go from where they were.

Eventually, about an hour left until close, you offer another cup of coffee.

"Do you want a refill? On the house." You ask gently, waiting to see if you'll get brushed off again.

"Uh... are you allowed to do stuff like that?" He asks, and you're a bit taken aback at the sudden concern.

"I don't think you should worry yourself too much, James. Free coffee's free coffee." You smile lightly, and grab the cup before filling it up without his confirmation. You could tell he wanted to say yes but didn't want to seem rude.

"You didn't have to..." He grumbles, and you simply shake your head.

"I know, but you've been here a while, and what kind of employee would I be if I let a customer sit here without any sustenance?" Your lips ply into a tiny smirk, trying to get him to loosen up a bit.

He seems so guarded, defensive. Like any moment, he's ready to run if need be, you inspect to yourself.

"You'd just be a regular employee, Y/N." He says, but the way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine; and you can't tell if it's a good or bad one.

You unconsciously look down at your name tag, pinned to your black apron that's branded with the café's logo.

"Well, I felt like being nice. I hope you can deal." Your voice comes out short, but he knows you mean no harm.

As you walk back to the counter, you see a small smile playing on his lips, but he doesn't allow it to manifest on his face. You take that as a small victory for your last hour of work.

(bucky's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The girl who works at this café is annoying.

But she's got a nice smile. And she's nice to me, Bucky thinks to himself.

He sips on the new coffee you'd just poured for him, without his consent, he thinks bitterly.

But it was a nice gesture.

Why can't you just take a nice gesture?

Because your brain's been scrambled eggs for 70 years. You don't know what to think about anything these days.

He watches you fiddle with the espresso maker, cleaning it with a rag, which you then dip into a bucket.

You look extremely familiar to him, but he can't exactly pin where he's seen you before.

Bucky closes his eyes for a moment, trying to recall where he'd seen you, but for a moment, he comes up with nothing.

Ever since he's been living back in the real world, he hasn't been outside too much.

He goes on the occasional walk, or goes to the tower to see Steve and Sam.

But other than that, he spends a lot of time in his Brooklyn apartment. He watches movies that Steve suggests, or he invites Steve and Sam over to have beer and watch TV with him.

He hates how lonely it gets, though.

Bucky wishes that he had someone.

Someone who could understand.

And don't get him wrong, he loves Sam and Steve. They fill in the gaps in his days, and they make them better.

Sometimes, thinking about having something to do that day is what makes it. He likes having something to do, something to plan for for when his friends come over.

But it feels like a teeny, tiny part of his life is missing. A person shaped-hole in his heart.

But Bucky doesn't spend too long thinking about it, or it'll send him into a spiral about failure and how he needs to 'push himself to get out there more.'

Or that's what his therapist says.

"Hey, we're about to close, and we usually throw the pastries out at the end of the day. Do you wanna take these home, by any chance?" Your voice rings in his ears, snapping him out of the impending slippery slope of his lack of love life.

He hesitates to answer for a second, looking at the brown paper bag pinched between your fingers.

Bucky can tell you were nervous when you spoke to him. He knew he made you uneasy, and it killed him inside.

He hated that. He just wanted to have a normal conversation with someone. But everyone seems to know who he is.

Who he was.

"Uh, what is it?" He croaks, unsure of what to say at your gesture.

"It's a few cookies and a chocolate croissant."

"Sure, I'll take 'em." Bucky simply answers, watching as you hand the bag over with a soft smile and watches you walk back.

You sweep up the floor and put up all the chairs, except for the one Bucky's sitting on. You leave his table alone, and bid farewell to your coworker who was scheduled to close with you.

Bucky doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he gets up after he sees you walk out the door, and follows you home.

Damn, if you like a girl, you usually ask for her number or somethin'. Not follow her home to make sure she's safe, you idiot. Bucky's inner voice speaks and sometimes, he wishes it would just shut up because he knows he has no game nowadays, but this is all he knows to do.

He realizes the way you're walking is familiar, and not at all of the way he was supposed to be going. That made him feel a little better, less like a creep. He's about half a block behind you, and when you turn onto the same street he lives on, he's really confused.

Did you know he was behind you? Are you trying to play a trick on him?

But before Bucky can speak up or say something, you walk right past his building, and into the one right next to it.

All of a sudden, images of you right on the street in front of your buildings flash through his head. He's seen you because you're his neighbor. Bucky's seen you right there, getting ready to start your run through the neighborhood, or probably on your way to work, now that he's seen where you work.

But he feels like there's somewhere else he's seen you; somewhere familiar.

He shakes his head, wondering why he's so caught up in you. He thought you were beautiful, but he feels a pull to you that he's never felt with anyone else before.

Bucky's hands move to unlock his door, sliding the key in and twisting the lock open.

He enters, staring at his dark apartment. It's moments like this, when he spends a long day alone, that he wishes there was someone.

Someone to come home to, to hug, to kiss, to share dinner with.

Some to fall asleep with at night. Someone to keep the terrors of the dark away.

But there was no one.

And then his mind thought back to you. Your hair, your face, your warm hands that touched his while you passed him the brown paper bag of treats.

Bucky wishes he was man enough to ask you out. Not even that, just to talk to you. Have a normal conversation, to get to know you.

But that wasn't in the cards for him anytime soon, he thinks.

For now, he focuses on taking things one at a time. And right now, all he wanted was a nice, warm shower and to get at least three hours of sleep tonight.

He's in his room, forgoing the lights for now, before he looks out his window.

For a moment, he believes his eyes are playing tricks on him.

There's absolutely no way that you are standing right there, right outside his window.

Well, in your own apartment, of course.

And there's absolutely no way in hell that Bucky is watching you undress right now.

As soon as you pull off your top, Bucky turns around before he could get more than a peek of your black lace bra, and he feels a burn in the pit of his stomach.

He can't tell if it's shame, guilt, or arousal.

(y/n's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn't stop thinking about James all day.

After yesterday, you wondered why you couldn't shake this feeling about him.

He'd made it quite clear that he's not a people person. Or maybe he just wasn't a you person.

But again, you tried to not take things too personally these days.

Sometimes, you wondered, though, as you looked through your bedroom window to his some nights.

You imagined what it would be like, watching one of those movies with him at night. Making dinner with him. Having coffee in the mornings before work, wondering what he did for a living.

You chastise yourself for your thoughts, thinking that you were crazy for these ideas you were coming up with out of nowhere.

As you pull off your clothes to get ready for bed, you feel the same emptiness fill your heart when your head hits the pillow, and another day has gone by where you're all alone.

The next day, your shift was at ten in the morning so you were up early.

You took your time in rolling out of bed. The warmth of your duvet was holding you down, and you couldn't help take a peek out your window.

You see that the room facing yours is finally housing a body in the bed. In all the time you'd been living across him, you've only seen him on the floor.

You feel a warm flutter at that. Whatever reason led him to actually sleep in the bed last night was, you hope you played a role in it.

You make your way to the café, and although walking in the rain wasn't ideal, you made it, somehow.

You clock in and head to the register, ready to take the millions of orders that come in through the day.

"Hi- oh! Welcome back. What can I get you?" Your tone of voice made it clear you were surprised, but was trying to not let it show.

"Uhm, just the same as yesterday, and... Can I get a chocolate croissant?" Bucky's gruff voice tells you.

You ring him up, wondering if you should say something about him being your neighbor. Although, he didn't seem too keen on looking you in the eye right now, and you wonder if you did something to make him uncomfortable yet again.

He seems to have this issue quite often.

Little do you know, this time, it isn't because of you or anything you did.

Well, nothing you did on purpose.

Nothing you were aware of at the time.

Anyways, you tell James to go take a seat and that you'd be right out with his order.

"Here you go, James," you place the plate and mug on the table, and this time, when you hear him say something, you turn around with furrowed brows.

"Sorry, I didn't catch what you said." You apologize, waiting for him to repeat himself.

"I- nevermind, it was stupid anyways. You probably have to get back to work." He mumbles while looking back down at his pastry.

"James, whatever it is, you can tell me." You offer with a kind smile. "I can come sit with you during my break, if you don't mind?" A hopeful smile crosses your face.

"Uh, I- yes, yeah, that would be nice." He struggles for a moment, but finally nods his head in confirmation along with his words.

"Alright, James. I get off in an hour for my break." You simply tell him with a soft grin, and you can practically feel his eyes burning into you as you walk away.

The blush creeping up your cheeks also stays there until the remainder of your shift.

As you plop in the chair across from James, you inspect him for a moment.

He was attractive, you'll admit.

Okay, he was more than attractive.

"So, James, where are you from?" You ask, your own cup of coffee in front of you on the table.

"Well, I'm Brooklyn born 'nd raised. Never was a time I didn't live here. You?" His lip twitches, looking out the window fondly.

"That's nice. I moved here when I was nine, so I guess I've been here a while. But no matter where I go, there's nowhere like home." You smile.

"There really isn't, huh? This place is irreplaceable." He gives you a crack of another smile, and you find yourself yearning for more from him. Just a tooth, something.

"Well, do you live around here?" You ask, deciding to play coy. You wanted to see what he'd say.

"Uh, yeah, actually. Over on DeKalb and Clinton." He clears his throat, the hint of a smile on his face melting right off.

"Huh, that's so funny. I live on those streets too." You grin, waiting to see his reaction.

"O-Oh really?" James doesn't really know what to say without giving away that he knows where you fucking live.

"Yeah, isn't that funny? Which building?" You're pressing, and you know he knows, but you're having your fun right now.

"T-the uhm... I live in the Washington." He's now making zero eye contact with you, and you're close to breaking.

"What a coincidence! I live in the Oakley!" You're in a fit of giggles when his face drops, you just can't help it anymore.

"James, can I tell you something?" You ask in a coquettish manner.

"Yeah, I suppose you'll tell me even if I say no." He gives a tight smile as a joke.

"I don't wanna sound like a creep, but I knew you lived in the Washington."

"Oh," James releases a breath of relief, "thank God. I knew you lived in the Oakley, but I didn't wanna sound like a stalker either." He says.

You laugh, sliding a hand on top of his resting on the table.

"Y'know, you do this really annoying thing where you leave your movies running on full brightness on your TV, and I can see it through my windows at night." You laugh at the incredulity of the situation.

"Oh... I never even thought of that. I'm sorry, Y/N." He looks genuinely remorseful, and now you feel bad for any bad thought you've had about the man that lives across from you.

"It's alright. No big deal." Your smile does a good job of convincing Bucky that you truly weren't bothered by his actions, but he still felt bad.

"Y'know, maybe I could make it up to you?" He asks, and you feel a blush moving up your chest. "Like, maybe over dinner?" His voice is timid, you can tell by the way he tilts his head down while speaking.

"James," you slide your hand into his this time, your smaller one resting in his large metal one. "I'd love to go out with you sometime."

Before he could react, you stood up from the chair.

"My break's over, but I get off at 3." You lean down and pull a pen from your apron, scribbling your number onto a napkin. "Here."

You walk away before he could say anything, but there's something about him this time that you notice.

He's blushing, too. And he's smiling. A bright, white, blinding smile.

You think of that smile throughout your whole shift, until you see he's still waiting for you when it's time to go.

"So, do you like Chinese or Italian better?" He asks with a crooked smile.

bonus scene:

six months later

You and Bucky are laid across your bed, the TV blaring a movie that neither of you are paying attention to. Your head is resting on his shoulder, leg thrown over both of his, and his hand running through your hair.

"You wanna know somethin' doll?" Bucky asks, and you feel his chest rumble under your head.

"Yeah, everything okay?" You ask while leaning up on your elbow to get a good look at him, trying to gauge his mood.

"Everything's okay, just remembered something." He laughs, his hand moving to hold your jaw in it. You shivered at the touch, but smiled fondly at the action.

"When I first saw you at the coffee shop, that first day when you gave the free coffee and pastries... I followed you home."

Your brows furrow and it's clear that you were confused as to why.

"I wanted to make sure you got home safe, and then it turned out that you lived right next to me. So I went up to my apartment and wondered what I'd done right in a past life to have you live right next to me, and then I saw you lived right across from me." His face was tipped upwards, like he was replaying that night in his head.

"You followed me home just to make sure I was safe?" You asked in disbelief that he did something so nice for you, when at the time you thought he hated you.

"Of course, sweetheart. It was dark out and there 're some real jerks out there, y'know." One corner of his mouth lifts up in a soft smirk. "Didn't want anything to happen to ya."

You lean down and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, appreciating his gesture.

"I really thought you didn't like me back then, so this is a nice little secret you've been hiding from me." You giggle when he pulls you back in for a real kiss.

"Yeah, well, I don't think I could'a hated you if I tried, baby. You're too sweet. And at the time, I was still getting used to being out in the open without being a national security threat." You both laugh lightly, dropping your head down.

A moment passes where you bask in his words, letting them soak in. And then a thought hits you, and you can't help but become more curious. Now you need to know the answer.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, hon." Now Bucky's brows are pulled together, and you reach up and smooth out the wrinkle with your thumb.

"Did you ever... see me doing anything in here? Like, I usually keep the curtains open, and even if they're closed, they're pretty see-through..." You trail off, giving him time to craft his response.

You have a feeling you know the answer, considering how he turns red like a tomato in an instant as words leave your lips.

"I... there was this one time, but I swear, I wasn't trying to peep on you or anything, it was the same day I followed you and I just so happened to look into your window, and you were getting undressed, but I swear, I turned away as soon as I saw what you were doing, baby-" He was rambling, trying to save himself from sounding like a complete creep after all he's just told you.

"Did you like it?" You ask, innocently, but he knew what you were trying to do.

"I-I- You were getting undressed, sweetheart, of course I liked it... are you kidding me?" Bucky's grasping for the words, trying to make you understand.

"Well... we could always recreate it, but maybe in the same apartment this time?" You cock your head to the side, your doe eyes stirring a feeling in his abdomen.

"I think that's an excellent idea, honey." Bucky's hands grasp your waist as you slide on top of his lap. "After all, I am a hands on learner."

fin. i hope you enjoyed!

#bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes reader insert #neighbor!bucky #bucky barnes au

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notanotherreidgirl · 3 years

Note

I just had an idea based on my recent health experience: What if Spence had to wear a Holter for 24 or 72 hours to measure his heart's activity (maybe as part of the FBIs health checks) ? And he has to take notes of everything he does so that they can match it with the information collected so he cannot have sex or masturbate unless he's willing to justify his increased heart activity to a team of doctors. So, reader being reader, decides to drive him nuts, teasing him again and again because she knows he can't do anything about it. (Does he end up cumming in his pants because he's trying so hard not to touch himself and increase his heart rate?) ☺️🥰

Love ya! Have a great day!

Let's Get Physical

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, edging, blowjob, grinding, coming in pants

Word Count: 1380 (i'm inclined to just call this a full fic)

A/N: First, an apology. This has been in my inbox for quite a while and I am very sorry about the wait. Secondly, I made this entire scenario up after doing some minimal research on Holter monitors so it might not make sense.

Spencer gave Hotch’s door a light tap before taking a deep breath and then giving two sharp knocks. “Come in”

The door swung open and Derek patted him on the shoulder with a smile as he exited, no doubt having just received a glowing report regarding his physical health. Spencer dropped into the seat, casting a quick glance at the team of health professionals on Hotch’s couch and immediately regretting it. They were very clinical looking - pressed white lab coats, hair combed and gelled back, clipboards piled with papers, already scribbling away and speaking among themselves in hushed voices. “Ok Dr. Reid, we just have a few questions to ask you regarding your health practices and then we’ll take a look at the results from the Holter Monitor. Is that alright?”

“Um yeah. Yeah, that’s fine” he glanced over at Hotch who was leafing through Spencer’s notes with a raised eyebrow. The first few questions about his diet and lifestyle practices were easy but then came the dreaded evaluation of the Holter measurements. “Now we just have a few questions about some of the readings from the Holter. I see there was a bit of a spike right after you put it on that you attributed to nerves?”

“O-oh uh yeah, I was just a little nervous about having it on. That was it.” But that wasn’t the exact truth.

---

You had Spencer sit cross-legged on the bed without his shirt when he came home with the Holter. He was explaining how it worked as you studied the diagram detailing how to put it on. You slipped the wearable recording device over his head and climbed into his lap, surreptitiously rocking your hips into his as you untangled the wires. His hands encircled your waist, adjusting your angle so your clothed core ran against his entire length. You attached the electrodes carefully, kissing each patch of skin before covering it. His breath came out in soft pants as his release mounted and he squeezed his eyes shut. Just as he was about to come, you clicked the machine on and his eyes flew open.

“Wait, Y/N! I can’t - I’m supposed to keep my heart rate down.” The panic in his voice was evident and you smirked. If there was one thing you knew about Spencer it was that he liked succeeding. One might even say he liked winning - 3 Ph.Ds, prolific poker player, unsubs behind bars - so it didn’t come as a surprise to you that he was keen on passing his health evaluation. You trailed a hand down his chest, feeling the pounding heart he was trying to calm with deep breaths. “If you say so, doc”

---

The evaluator’s next question snapped him from his reverie. “That sounds fine but there was a concerning increase in your heart activity at 2 AM. It says here that you were exercising, specifically sprinting?”

Spencer dropped the pen he had been twirling and dove under his chair to get it. “Ah yes, I - uh - those are my nightly sprints.”

If Hotch’s eyebrows went up any farther they’d disappear in his hairline. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand across his face in exasperation when he spotted your face peeking out through an opening in his office blinds. You darted away quickly, sprinting back to your desk. Meanwhile, Spencer mentally chastised himself for his lack of self-restraint, saying that he was doing sprints at 2 AM was stupid but it was the only thing he could think of that could somewhat explain his elevated heart rate without revealing his actual activities.

---

He couldn’t sleep with the monitor on, tossing and turning in your arms until he rolled onto his back and let out a frustrated huff. You sleepily propped yourself up on your elbow. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

He scooted in closer, curling his body into yours and burying his face into your tits. He whined, “Can’t sleep with this thing on me”

“Oh, poor baby. Do you need me to make you feel better?” You dipped a hand down the front of his pajama pants and he automatically pressed his hips forward, used to you soothing him in this way after nightmares. He was already half-hard and you stroked him softly before sliding down the bed. His whimpers at the loss of your breasts exploded into loud moans as you swallowed his length, running your tongue up the underside of his cock and sucking at the tip before taking him back into your throat. Usually, you would take your time but you were feeling particularly wicked tonight, bringing a hand up to cradle his balls as the other forced his wild hips down onto the bed. Once again you pulled away just as his orgasm began to materialize and he threw his head back against the pillows, whines devolving into a choked sob. “We wouldn’t want to mess up your Holter results, now would we?”

Needless to say, he didn’t get any sleep that night.

---

“Well Dr. Reid, this kind of activity is most unusual and frankly quite concerning. Your heart rate even shot up right before you returned the monitor which you again attributed to nerves.” Spencer’s face reddened as he recalled the events that transpired that morning.

---

He was pacing down a vacant hallway in the basement of the Bureau, willing his nerves away. He was sure he would fail. Could you even fail one of these evaluations? Probably. If anyone could fail it would be Spencer. Between the events of the last 24 hours and the fact that Derek was going right before him, he knew he was screwed. And then as if the universe were conspiring against him there you were coming out of the printer room, heels clicking against the floor, hips swaying, a form-fitting blouse leaving just enough to the imagination. And Spencer had a very vivid imagination. Watching you float towards him was really all it took to have him standing at attention, heart rate skyrocketing. But you were ever the overachiever, threading his tie between your fingers and pulling him in for a kiss. Your knee came up between his legs and he automatically rocked into you, still worked up from your relentless denial. You ran your tongue over his bottom lip, deepening the kiss and applying even more pressure. “You’ve been so good, sweetheart. Trying your very hardest to control yourself. It’s adorable.”

It didn’t even occur to Spencer that he had to return the monitor along with his notes in less than 10 minutes, he was cumming in his pants as soon as the praise left your lips, whining into your mouth as he finally attained his long-awaited release. He looked down at you in shock as you stepped back. “Shit, Y/N! What do I do? They’re gonna call me up in 5 minutes!”

You gave him a mocking look of sympathy as you smoothed the wrinkles in his dress shirt. “Guess you better get cleaned up then”

---

“Dr. Reid, I’d like to see you again for a follow-up.” The doctor on the left scribbled their name on the bottom of a form and handed it to Spencer. He gave the paper a quick glance before looking over at Hotch with wide eyes. Help me.

Hotch sighed, taking the form from Spencer and giving it a quick scan before returning it to the evaluation team. “As we know, Dr. Reid has had a tumultuous history with these physical assessments. However, he is an invaluable member of this team and has proven himself in the field time and time again. I don’t see any reason to prolong this evaluation. Now if you’ll excuse us, I believe Dr. Reid was your last appointment of the day”

They protested but Hotch fixed them with his trademark stare and they stood up to leave. “Very well, but Dr. Reid will not be exempt from his yearly fitness test this time.”

Spencer gulped, watching them file out the room. He turned to Hotch thanking him as he took his file and turned to leave, glad it was over. But before he could leave, Hotch cleared his throat. “I take it Y/N will be helping you train for your fitness test”

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #sub!spence coming in his pants is something that can be so personal #lanie's 1k celebration!#unsuitable for work

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1kook · 3 years

Text

BORN SINNER III

→ MASTERLIST

summary; Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you. warnings; virgin jungkook, timid jungkook, church boy jk, a LOT of religious themes/discussion, catholic guilt, fear of sinning, mentions of masturbation, heavy doubts, a little paranoia/fear of being outcasted, jk has a crush, confessions, making out, boob lover jk has his boobs touched, groping/petting, light praise, very brief/light choking, jk is horny like 75% of the time, positive character development <3 rating; m (18+) wc; 9.5k

banner; as always, by @jamaisjoons !! ty ty ty!! <3333

notes; i have to apologize for delaying this update for so long. truth is, it was difficult to write the next part bc i felt like i had trapped myself in pt2-- jk wasn't showing ANY progress & i started to really hate his character. LUCKILY, with the help of my amazing editor n wife @kigurumu *audience cheers* i was able to put him back on the right track towards redemption! (& even more painful angst in the future!) sadly, that means that this part doesn't include any explicit smut, you'll see why. still, I'm very proud of how much i was able to build his character in this part and i hope you enjoy it!!! lemme know what u think <3

in the future, i will try my best to make sure the chapters aren’t so spaced out. again, i am so so sorry about taking so long to update this series

He gets your text the following Tuesday morning.

Now, Jungkook has never been one to be overly invested in his cell phone; he uses it as much as he needs to, just checks his emails, takes some photos, and sends texts when necessary. But you had set up a particularly unique ringtone for yourself the other day, had sweetly asked for his phone as he laid against your chest. His skin had felt warm and the slightest bit sweaty, his body pressed so closely against you that he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. “Did you have fun?” you asked, fingers combing back his hair. He had hummed, eyes fluttering shut to the faint tapping of your fingers across the keyboard. If he closes his eyes, he can still remember the soft beating of your heart beneath his ear, the leg you had hooked around his waist to pull him closer. The memory makes him shiver.

It’s a high-pitched bell sound that alerts him of your messages now, completely unlike the classic default tone he had set for everyone else.

From the other side of his room, Jungkook immediately pauses to look at it, the lit up screen glaring back at him from its idle place on his bedside table. He always leaves it there in the mornings, beside his rosary and the picture of his family, as he gets ready for work.

He knows exactly who it’s from— after all, that’s what you wanted when you stylized your ringtone —which is why his hand trembles in excitement as he unlocks his phone.

[❤️]: picnic tomorrow? 🥰

[❤️]: after my last class of course

Jungkook’s first thought is that this was a date, his first one with you since he had met you. His heartbeat hammers at the thought, at the mere suggestion that the two of you would be able to spend more time together this week outside of your usual weekend… acts. Additionally, if you’re asking him on a date, then surely it means you view Jungkook as a potential suitor, just as he does you? Do you want to maybe date Jungkook? Jungkook certainly wants to date you— in fact, if he starts gathering his courage now, he might be able to properly ask you out tomorrow.

Jungkook’s second thought is of that guilty, gross feeling that’s been gnawing at his insides for three days now, and how it was inevitably going to get worse when he saw you again.

He had lied to you, Jungkook recalls, sinking down against his mattress, shirt half buttoned, as he stares at the screen. He had lied to your face during a critical moment, had felt that seed of doubt in his chest blossom more than ever. And not only had Jungkook lied to you, but he had lied to you about his feelings toward you. How could he ever hope to hold you close, to date you, when he couldn’t even be honest with you?

The memory of your curious gaze presents itself at the forefront of his mind, the soft sound of your laughter ringing in his ears.

You had been so sweet to him despite his blunder, had cupped his face and kissed him on the lips when he dropped you off outside your apartment. “Not today,” you crooned, unbuckling yourself as Jungkook’s eyes trailed over your throat— ignoring your cross —and down your chest. “I have schoolwork to catch up on. But soon, okay?” Another sweet peck had left him trailing after your touch, your finger bopping the tip of his nose playfully. “Call me when you get home.”

And because he was so terribly, irrevocably smitten with you, Jungkook had done as you said and called you. He’d called you and then had whimpered against his sheets as you generously talked him through another sinful deed. You had softly sighed his name over the line, told him he was handsome and that you missed him. That you wanted him in your mouth—

And of course, he had felt… something afterwards.

This is where his dilemma begins: Jungkook had felt something afterwards, and he’s not sure if it had been entirely good or bad. The longer Jungkook stays around you, hangs out with you, does things with you— the more he can feel parts inside of himself change. Because after the phone call, Jungkook had felt two distinct emotions within himself, both of which were up for questioning.

First, there was that one feeling he was becoming all too familiar with, the crushing guilt that would consume him following any sexual interaction with you or himself for that matter. Why was he like this? Why did he indulge himself in such heinous pleasures when he knew, knew better than anyone, what committing such acts meant for the future of his soul? He was practically dooming himself the way he was now, but Jungkook just didn’t understand— why did something so bad feel so good?

But alongside that gnawing guilt was this tiny, weirdly pleasant satisfaction, a gratification that superseded the relief felt by an orgasm. It was this oddly serene feeling that settled over Jungkook in the moments following a climax, the soft brush of your hands through his hair, the low lilt of your voice. They made him feel like he was floating on the softest of clouds, kissed and pampered by its wispy tendrils. It made something inside of Jungkook feel different, new. Good.

(In the back of his mind, Jungkook realizes he’s always felt that way. At the height of his pleasure, at the faintest brush of your hands against his. It was a staple of your presence, one that made Jungkook feel like he was walking on air.)

From whatever angle he looked at it, it just didn’t make sense. They were contrasting emotions; while one made him feel godawful, the other one practically made him transcend. The fact they could coincide, exist all at once, had Jungkook’s brain folding in on itself as he tried to figure out why. They kept him up the last few nights, eyes blankly staring up at his ceiling following his evening prayers. Mulling over everything he’s ever learned and been told, always circling it back to your beautiful presence in his life.

He knows sex in itself is not bad— after all, that was how the beautiful process of life came to be —but years upon years of studying his religion, cultivating his faith, had all led him to the same conclusion: premarital sex was wrong. And for the past few weeks, well. That’s all Jungkook had been doing with you.

It seems like every time you meet, you’re dead set on pleasuring him, turning Jungkook into a shivering, teary-eyed mess while you grinned from above. That confused him too— as far as Jungkook knew, the whole point of sex was to chase after your own pleasure, something you admittedly did not do. It was always Jungkook’s pleasure, Jungkook’s enjoyment that you wanted, covering him in languid kisses and long caresses until he was inevitably shooting his hot cum all over your lap and into your hands.

You had told him it was okay, that he should never feel bad for enjoying himself. But, to return back to his original dilemma, he doesn’t quite know if he can trust your word.

You’re a liar, that much Jungkook can look past his rose-tinted glasses to admit. While you may not have lied to him (or at least, Jungkook wants to believe you haven’t), the fact still stands that you are quite willing to deceive others in order to get what you want. He already knows you aren’t the biggest believer of the Church yourself, that you frequently brush off your religious duties in order to fulfill your own desires— the aforementioned sexual cravings probably the biggest one —so, quite frankly, Jungkook is untrusting of the rest of your practices. Were you lying to him, telling him all was well, just for your own benefit? Just because you wanted to drag him along on your lustful adventures? He wasn’t sure, and as much as he wanted to trust you wouldn’t, there’s a shred of doubt that plagues him.

But still.

Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you.

He taps his phone against his chin, brain a frenzied mess.

If Jungkook really wanted to pursue this relationship with you, he needed to be honest with himself and with you. Did it bother him that you were so flippant with the Church, the one he himself feels so devoted to? Yes and no. Jungkook has never been one to impress his beliefs on others, and truthfully, he would not be the slightest bit bothered if you don’t believe in the same things he does. Would there be some awkwardness in your relationship? Certainly, but at least Jungkook would know the real you from the very beginning.

But to him, posing as an avid follower when you really aren’t rubs part of him the wrong way. He’s slightly put off by that aspect of you, and justifiably felt that anyone would feel such a way if someone were to use something they love as mere leverage for their own personal gain. And to make matters worse, now that he’s been made aware, it weighs down heavily on his conscience.

Part of Jungkook, as selfish as it may be, wishes you had never revealed your secrets to him. He may have been left in the dark a total fool, but at the very least he would have been a happy fool. Would he still feel guilt about all the sexual deeds he’s partaken in with you? Sure, but at least he would only have himself to blame. The way things are now, he’s unsure who really needs to be condemned.

Realistically, it is Jungkook’s fault. He knows how you are and even more, he knows you would never proposition him for any such sexual deed if he told you no, if he simply denied you. But he doesn’t tell you no, and that’s the problem: Jungkook really likes you as you are now, questionable behavior be damned. He likes you when you make him cry and when you pinch his cheeks and when you snake your hand down his pants.

He still thinks you’re amazing, gets this fluttery feeling when you look at him with that sparkling gaze of yours. Your laughter makes him smile, even if you’re not laughing at something he said, because the sound is just so comforting, warm and soothing, makes his entire body relax when you chuckle. You have this gentle touch, these delicate hands that carefully comb his hair back for him in the car sometimes, tracing the side of his face softly. Your smile makes him dizzy, makes him want to cup your face in his hands and kiss you breathless. And, of course, he can’t complain about your… other talents when he’s only been on the beneficial receiving end of said talents. That aforementioned satisfaction, as small as it may be and as difficult as it was to admit to, was something Jungkook has begun to look forward to on the occasions that you meet.

But his inability to overlook his own beliefs and your confusing nature brings about a great strife within Jungkook. It’s the reason he hesitates outside the church after dropping you off, his car running as he glares at his steering wheel. Everything in him says to go inside and confess to his sins, relieve himself of this overwhelming sense of guilt and shame to the closest person to his Lord.

But he’s scared.

Scared that, despite the oath of confidentiality, word will get out. His fellow brothers in faith will hear about what he’s done and call him out for his lecherousness. But even worse, he’s scared of what will happen to you. Would Jungkook’s life be over if he were thrown out of his beloved church? As dramatic as he may be, no. But he recognized that there were different standards to which men were held in this society, that an act of desire by him would not ruin his name the same way it would you.

And Jungkook didn’t want that. He wanted to keep you safe. Wanted you to be happy and smiling, regardless of how conflicted it made him, because he likes you. He likes you so much, despite the fact he has yet to uncover the true extent of your character.

But the cloud of mystery is partially what intrigues him, has him pondering over your very existence instead of getting ready for work as he is now. He’s terribly enamored, thinks about you and prays for you every night. So maybe Jungkook is still the fool, because he still daydreams about you when he knows he shouldn’t.

His phone buzzes in his hand—

[❤️]: i miss you bunny ☹️

—and his decision is made.

Tuesday passes by in a blur and before he knows it, it’s Wednesday afternoon and you’re texting him the location of one of the parks in the city. You had told him not to worry about the food because you would bring it. Jungkook’s only job was bringing the picnic blanket, a huge checkered thing he had spent all morning rifling through three stores for. He wants to impress you, desperately so, that he’s even wearing a nicer outfit today, darker tones unlike his normal warm palette because he had heard a woman at his job say men look cooler in dark colors.

Suffice to say, he sticks out like a sore thumb at the park, the stark black of his jeans contrasting with the vibrant green of the neatly cut grass. Jungkook has half the mind to feel self-conscious about it, but then you’re calling his name from a couple meters away and his breath leaves his lungs.

“Hi,” you greet, the handle of your wicker basket held tightly between two hands; Jungkook rushes to relieve you of the weight. “Did you wait long?” you ask, rewarding his gentlemanly behavior with a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth that kick-starts his heart back into action and has his face burning up.

In all honesty, you have never dressed very modestly— not that you had to, nor that there was anything remotely wrong with that. Jungkook has spent many a mass service fighting the urge to glance down the front of your dresses and tops, ignoring the cleavage you liked to show off now and then. But apparently, what Jungkook had seen up until now was your version of dressing modestly. The dress you show up with today, an off day where there are no church ladies to impress and no unspoken dress codes to follow, makes his brain short circuit. The thin, thin, straps that hold it up giving him an all access view to the broad expanse of your shoulders and chest and collarbones and boobs—

“No!” Jungkook rushes to reassure you, fighting down the blush that threatens to travel further down his neck when you carefully straighten out the collar of his shirt for him. “I- I, um, just got here.”

You beam at the news. “I bought cheesecake,” you tell him, looping your arm through his as you tug him along. “I hope it hasn’t melted yet!”

By the time the two of you settle at a suitable spot near the lake, the cheesecake hasn’t melted. It’s still cold and solid, tastes like heaven on Jungkook’s tongue, and you laugh when his eyes light up. You look gorgeous like this, nestled against the checkered picnic blanket with a glass bottle of sparkling water in your hand, sandals just beside the edge of the blanket. There’s the faint chime of a bicycle bell somewhere to his left and the chatter of birds as they flock over the pond. Wonderful sights that would normally take his breath away and make him marvel at their beauty, but when you smile at him so gingerly like that, all Jungkook can think about is you.

He watches you slip a strawberry past your lips. “Tell me about yourself,” you hum, seemingly out of the blue, wiping the corner of your mouth with one careful finger. “Other than, like, church stuff,” you tease.

As you lean forward for another one, Jungkook’s brain stutters for a moment, eyes focused on the curves of your boobs as they naturally follow the movements of your upper body until he’s dizzy. “Huh?” he says, and you snort. “Oh— me, right, yes um—“

“Your favorite color?” you suggest, tugging the skirt of your dress tighter around your legs. It’s not cold, but there’s a slight breeze that keeps rolling over the two of you, pushing your floral scent over Jungkook and fluttering through his hair. “Right now, all I know is that you like cheesecake because you ate three slices at the bazaar the other week,” you chuckle.

It’s such a basic question, the bare minimum of knowing a person. But when you look at Jungkook like that, blinking those long lashes at him, it makes him forget his answer. “Um… Red,” he murmurs, watching you tug off the stem of the strawberry in your hands. “And white.”

You nod, and then you’re stretching a hand outward to offer him the aforementioned strawberry. When he doesn’t open his mouth right away, you silently demonstrate first, until Jungkook is slowly parting his lips and accepting your strawberry. The flavor bursts on his tongue, sweet and sticky, coating the very tips of your fingers when you don’t pull away fast enough. Jungkook averts his gaze when you pop them between your own lips and suck them clean.

“Red and white,” you repeat, unaware of the lustful images that flicker through Jungkook’s mind, the way his eyes unconsciously drop to the front of your dress, at the crevice between your breasts that he remembers oh so well, the tight suction around his cock as you— “They make pink, which is my favorite color.” He desperately clears his mind of the memories that flash before his eyes.

It’s a pretty color, fit for a pretty girl. Jungkook keeps the thought to himself as he watches you sift through the contents of your basket. It’s the perfect compliment to give you, he knows it’d make you happy, but his valor disappears when you throw him a soft grin and he’s transported back to a more recent memory, the memory in the car instead.

A bad influence, he had called you, had watched your eyes well up with an emotion he had never seen on you before. Sadness? Disappointment? Disgust? He wasn’t sure, all Jungkook could really remember was the acidity on your tongue when you had repeated the words back to him, the ghost of your touch when you had abruptly pulled away from him, shut him out. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so closed off before, not even when he had first met you and you were parading around with that staged shyness.

And even when Jungkook had corrected himself afterwards (read: lied to you to cover his tracks), the emotion had lingered. Even when you had playfully brushed him off, he had caught your reflection in the window beside you as he drove to your place. The sullen look on your normally happy face, lips down-turned, eyes lowered. A look he had put there.

And now he’s watching you carefully rip apart bread to throw at the birds with a tender smile. A cloud moves and suddenly the sun is beating down on your little picnic again, casting a beautiful glow across your skin that renders him breathless for the shortest moment, trapped by the sheer beauty you exude. You’re absolutely ethereal, and yet he had questioned you. Your morals, your character, everything.

“__?” he says before he can stop himself.

You hum, “yes, bunny?” before pausing your little feeding task to glance back over at him. When you look at Jungkook like this, meet his gaze straight on, he doesn’t see an ounce of ingenuity in your eyes. It might be Jungkook’s lovesick heart speaking, but he can’t imagine you ever lying to him. He looks away first, frowning at the various fruits sprawled between the two of you.

You care about him, that much Jungkook wants to believe. And his beliefs are confirmed, when your voice drops an octave lower, becomes softer, as you murmur, “is everything alright?” The fruits are carefully set aside, breaking the wall between the two of you until you can shuffle forward, your knees bumping against his. Hands reach for his, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against his skin.

Before you can repeat your inquiry a second time, Jungkook finds himself asking, “do you like me?”

Jungkook’s sudden inquiry makes your cheeks heat up just the slightest, your startled inhale barely contained.

It’s like a scene straight out of a teenage romcom— a confession in a park, your hearts bared for each other. But it’s a little awkward, you have to admit, unintentionally giving Jungkook’s soft hand a nervous squeeze as his question rolls over in your mind.

Duh, you want to say. But there’s something about the look in Jungkook’s eye— the eyes he very purposefully turns towards your hands, the hair he had let loose today providing him ample protection from your gaze —that has you pausing, carefully considering your next words.

You had hoped by now that it was obvious, that Jungkook understood how much he meant to you, and didn’t require some dorky confession in the park. Partially because, well. This wasn’t your usual role. Usually, it was the guy confessing to you, raving about all your redeeming qualities in an effort to win you over. But with Jungkook, all you know about relationships is flipped upside down, forcing you to play a position you’ve never played before.

Jungkook wasn’t like you; he was soft and sentimental, practically wore his heart on his sleeve for the whole world to see. And it was a massive heart, filled with so much love and adoration for the world around him, that you felt bad when he wore such sullen expressions on his face.

Expressions like the one he has now, lips pressed together tightly as he misreads your silence. He has honest eyes, a dark toffee color that sends tingles down your spine when he looks your way. They glimmer with a sort of innocence for the world, a thin sparkle that makes him look like a prince sometimes. He was devastatingly handsome, and now he was upset. “Um— it’s okay,” he stammers, trying to move the conversation along. But his eyes flicker around nervously, anxiously. Like your silence has left a burn mark on him, painful and delicate to the touch.

His comment isn’t completely unexpected. How very on-brand for big-hearted Jungkook to try to save you from an uncomfortable interaction, even if it was caused by him. “Um…” he murmurs, “it’s okay. If you don’t, uh. Like me?”

It sounds flimsy, even to you.

“No, no,” you rush to correct, your ability to speak slowly coming back to you only after the fact. “I do,” you admit, nerves on edge at this rather foreign situation. “I… like you a lot, Jungkook.”

You shouldn’t be surprised by his reaction. Jungkook blinks slowly, like his brain is still processing the information, and then, ever so artfully, goes up in metaphorical flames. “O- Oh,” he stutters, reaching a free hand up to press his knuckles against his face. The rosy hue that had first blossomed over his cheeks has now started crawling down his neck now, up his ears. It’s terribly endearing. “I— um. I didn’t know,” Jungkook rambles, and it’s so cute, so sweet, how a simple confession from you renders him this flustered.

His face emanates a warmth tangible even on your own skin, lips cutely quirking to the side as he fights off a bashful smile and the raging blush your words bring about. It certainly is a sight to see. His hair tickles his eyebrow, swept out of its usually neat style, but it makes him look all the more gorgeous. “Cute,” you chuckle, feeling the slightest bit shy at such a warm response from Jungkook. You sit back, giving him the space he needs, and turn your attention up at the big blue sky instead. “Really? I thought it was obvious,” you hum.

Part of you actually feels really awkward; as you said before, everything is so brand new with him. With Jungkook, he flips everything around for you, makes you actually admit to your emotions as opposed to simply going along with his. It’s a nice change of pace, as difficult as it may be, and the results are rather… cute as well. (He bites down a smile, but the action makes his normally soft cheeks look more pronounced than usual.)

“Because, I, um. Me too,” he says, voice wavering. He clears his throat and tries to meet your gaze under his fringe, but doesn’t last more than a second before he’s pointedly glancing at the picnic blanket beneath the two of you. “I’m— I like you too,” he admits, ears tinted a bright red. You figured as much but it was always nice to hear, especially from someone like Jungkook. “A lot.”

“Thanks,” you smile, placing a hand on his thigh.

His lips pull into a shy smile, aimed at your knees because he can never look you in the eye when you shower him in praise and other gooey, mushy feelings. It’s the same in the car or against your front door— he always manages to give your hand a tight squeeze, maybe even a kiss if he’s feeling brave. But the second you try to tell him you’ve had fun or that you’ll miss him, it’s like all his courage fades away, leaving him a blushing, smiley mess.

He was cute like that. Despite being so kind and caring, it was like Jungkook’s entire being stopped functioning when those types of gestures were aimed at him. So you relished those moments, looked forward to them with a fluttery feeling in your heart that couldn’t be tamed.

Today, he throws you for a loop. Just as that proud, giddy smile appears, cheeks and ears a pretty pink, it fades away. The excitement from your mutual confessions seems to remind Jungkook of something else, something less warm, that has him quietly mumbling, “I’m sorry.”

It’s confusing, to say the least. Just a moment prior, he had been pursing his lips in a silly attempt to hold back a smile. Now he’s staring at the ground with a rather pensive look, his apology sitting heavy in his throat. “What for?” you tentatively ask after one long beat. It had been so sudden. In your mind, there isn’t a single reason for Jungkook to be apologizing to you, especially so out of the blue. There is, however, an inkling of fear brought upon by what can only be classified as insecurity; you had just confessed your feelings for each other, why was he sorry about that?

Jungkook exhales, a quiet sound that is nearly lost among the bustling noises of the park. If you hadn’t been sitting so close, maybe you wouldn’t have heard it at all. “I just,” he huffs, pointedly glaring at some random spot of grass beside you. His features look sharper than ever now, jawline defined, brows narrowed together. It’s a rather misplaced realization, but Jungkook looks absolutely gorgeous with distress painting his face. “I was… being selfish before.”

In the few weeks you’ve known him, you’ve come to realize Jungkook was many things. First and foremost, he’s an absolute gentleman. Raised on manners and compassion, looking after others everywhere he went. He was caring and sweet, loved this world and the people in it so much. Soft-spoken but straightforward. He was dreamy, disgustingly so.

But selfish? It definitely sounds like something Jeon Jungkook is not.

Before you can interrogate him even further, it seems like Jungkook is dead set on getting through this alone. “I- I’m sorry,” he repeats, eyes downcast. Noticing his wavering confidence, you resign yourself to listening, hand giving him a reassuring squeeze. Finally, after a short moment, Jungkook murmurs, “...in the car.” You tilt your head to the side curiously, waiting for him to go on. “I said, um. Something rude.”

It takes a moment for the memory to load, and when it finally clicks into place and begins rolling, you find yourself muttering a faint, “ah.”

If it’s what you think it is, he’s talking about last weekend outside of the church. That terribly awkward encounter that had left a sour taste in your mouth afterwards. A bad influence, you recall him saying, the memory of his voice looped in your mind the entire drive to your place.

In all honesty, it had stung a little. While you were aware that Jungkook had an ongoing mental battle, you hadn’t realized your role was that big in it. It’s the reason you had sent him home that day, made up a lie about schoolwork just to give him some space. It’s nothing new, everyone’s had someone think badly of them before; gossipy classmates, rivals, maybe even random strangers on the street. But it felt different when it was coming from someone as sweet as Jungkook, so polite and righteous, who wouldn’t even hurt a fly. Like he was stating a fact, not an opinion.

It was a slip-up on Jungkook’s end, that much you could tell. Because he had been frantic to correct himself afterwards, had looked at you with these fearful eyes, like one wrong move and you’d slip from between his hands. Luckily, you weren’t that sensitive— definitely not as sensitive as him, at least —and such a comment had been practically meaningless moments later.

Still, in those few moments where it was meaningful (read: the short period it took for Jungkook to get home and call you, the words looping around your brain until the harsh ring of your cell phone finally interrupted), it had left you wondering. Have you been pushing him too far, asking for too much? The way you saw it, you always gave Jungkook room to object to any of your advances. You know he’s trapped in his thoughts more often than not, but you pay attention to him, you really do. You make sure to take his reactions into account, try to offer solutions where possible. But, for the briefest moment, all of those efforts had felt fruitless that day in the car.

What you say next is not a complete lie; sure, Jungkook’s comment had hurt for a bit, but here he was now apologizing for it. That was a good sign… right? “It’s okay,” you brush off, patting his cheek softly, hoping with every fiber in your being that it really was okay.

Your voice is gentle, soothing his doubts. Just moments prior, Jungkook had felt like he was asking for too much, especially when your feelings toward him were up in the air. But your earnest confession soothed the ache in his heart. It’s all he’s wanted these past few months, to belong in your heart like you do his.

But the guilt from before, the tumultuous feelings he’s been harboring towards you since the weekend, dampens his excitement. From your confession alone, it doesn’t seem like you questioned Jungkook. You weren’t put off by who he was, what he loved. So why couldn’t Jungkook be like you, think like you?

“I’m still sorry,” he says again, feeling like a broken record when he catches this sympathetic smile on your face. The scraps of eloquence he had gathered while originally apologizing seem to fade away, leave him a stuttering mess when he tries again. “That was— I shouldn’t have said—“

“Hey,” you cut off, placing a hand against his cheek. It stops his fidgeting, forces him to meet your gaze head on. There’s a smile on your face but something inside of Jungkook says it doesn’t feel real. “I like you, Jungkook.”

And it’s true and genuine, your words so honest it pains him to think he had ever thought otherwise. And you’re still smiling, even after being hit with the implication that Jungkook questioned your character and maybe that’s what hurts the most. That you still try to put on an easygoing expression for him after he’s said something hurtful. It’s the car all over again, that blank look in your eyes when he had spoken carelessly.

Before he can apologize for the umpteenth time, you’re shaking your head softly, smiling anew. But this time, he can’t tell if it’s real or not. “I brought orange juice,” you say, expertly moving the conversation along. And just as Jungkook has been thinking for weeks now, it’s like you know him so well. You know when things make him anxious or uncomfortable, know just how to help him out.

There’s a feeling of guilt that blossoms in his chest, but this time it’s different.

It’s not the usual sticky gross feeling of before, the one that has him staying up at night repenting for all his wrongdoings. It’s a personal kind of guilt that comes along with the frank realization that, while you have been learning and adapting to being around Jungkook, he has not been doing the same for you.

Though you may be a little playful at times, you don’t tease him for who he is, don’t stomp all over his beliefs as much as he deluded himself into thinking you do. (That whole, faux-believer thing was a different circumstance.) Like with the cross in his house the other day. As much as Jungkook wanted to believe what you had done was evil, he had, quite honestly, enjoyed himself afterwards. There wasn’t that heavy discomfort sitting on his chest anymore, that sense of shame lingering as you’d kissed his body and let him caress yours too, in the safety of your eyes only. It was enjoyable and fun, had felt exhilarating to be so intimate with you.

And instead of being thankful for your mindful efforts, he had questioned your sincerity.

The picnic goes by in a flash. Jungkook is sad he can’t enjoy it to the fullest, his brain filled with clamorous thoughts that circled around to torture him every few minutes. Still, the entire date feels like a dream, vibrant and beautiful, leaving him in a daze. He doesn’t want to wake up.

By the time you suggest wrapping up, the sun is setting over the horizon, the windows and lights of the buildings around you slowly flickering to life like a sea of tiny stars. He feels weak in the knees as he helps you pack everything back in your basket. “All set,” you smile, walking beside him, knuckles brushing against his until you fulfill Jungkook’s wordless wish and slip your hand into his.

Jungkook agrees, hoping his hand isn’t sweaty and that you mean what you say. “I- I liked the food,” he remembers to mention, the fact that you had so carefully and lovingly prepared all this not entirely lost on him. His compliment, as simple as it may be, has you beaming at him as you exit through the park’s front gates. His car is parked along the street, the sleek vehicle coming into view as you round the street corner, hands still fastened. “Um,” he mumbles, pausing beside it. You turn to face him, eyes clear and content.

All good things come to an end, he supposes, reluctantly letting go of your hand when you tug. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” you say, stepping up close, chest pressed against his. His breath hitched in his throat, eyes going wide when you nuzzle against his neck. Your hands slip around his waist. They wrap around him perfectly, make Jungkook feel like he was made for you.

By the time he’s springing into action, jerkily raising his free hand up to your back, you’re stepping away. “Call me when you get home,” you wink, sending shivers down his spine when he remembers what happened the last time you said that.

But Jungkook doesn’t think he can wait that long.

You’re slipping further and further away, fingertips just barely brushing against his forearm, when Jungkook jolts into action. “How are you, um—“ he stammers, feels too big for his shoes when you tilt your head curiously. And then, “d- do you need a ride?” he mumbles, cheeks warm.

It’s a feeble attempt at asking what he really wants. Offering you a ride home, while not a bad idea considering it was late and you had taken the bus here, is nowhere near what Jungkook really wants. What he wants is standing before him, thin spaghetti strap slipping down their shoulder, eyes sensually half-lidded and you know this too— because, again, you know Jungkook so well, know what he wants even if he can’t say it —as you step into his bubble again, peer up at him with your arms held behind your back.

“A ride home?” you ask, blinking your long lashes in a way that robs him of his breath. And he can see that switch flick on inside of you, watches that pure and innocent gleam in your eyes slowly become replaced with something mischievous. Jungkook nods dumbly. “I’d love that.”

Jungkook blinks. “Great,” he chokes out, neatly dropping the wicker basket in his hands. In a way, it brings him back down to reality, lets him snap away from your hypnotizing gaze as he reaches for the keys in his pocket. “Let me— I just have to— yeah,” he stammers, clicking the button on his car keys one too many times, has it perkily beeping. Your lips press together into an amused smile, the last thing Jungkook sees before ripping himself away from you and yanking the back door open.

He nearly throws the basket in like a madman, glassware be damned. It’s his last shred of rationality that tells him not to, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge as he steps up to the edge of the sidewalk and carefully places it on the floor behind the passenger’s seat.

When Jungkook rises back up, there is a hand that brushes against his forearm, a gentle touch that has him throwing a curious glance your way. He’s not expecting to be so entranced by the dreamy look in your eyes, feet glued to the ground as you trail your hand down, catching his wrist between your fingers. You’re standing so close, making Jungkook feel like he’s trapped between you and his own car. His entire body is on edge when you lean in, placing a soft kiss against the very corner of his mouth. It leaves a tingling sensation, and accompanied with the growing warmth beneath his skin, feels like he’s been burned. “I had fun,” you murmur, voice low. It sends a shock of electricity down his spine, a wave of exhilaration that has him fully turning to face you as you eventually step away, that same playful grin on your features again.

A surge of confidence and greed overcomes him, has him stepping forward into your space despite the nervousness that builds within him. There’s a hint of surprise in your eyes that you quickly mask, placating his bumbling nerves with a delicate hand placed over his heart. He can’t breathe when you lean in, softly humming, “kiss me?”

Jungkook’s lower lip wobbles. “O- Okay,” he concedes, voice but an airy whisper that is soon swallowed up. You taste like fruit and orange juice, remnants of your picnic clinging to your lips as you slowly consume Jungkook’s entire attention with this soft brush alone. It’s a rather short affair, one that ends all too soon when you pull away with a soft sigh against his lips.

Your smile is so pretty when you angle it at him, has him taking one jerky step backwards. His back hits the car, feels trapped. But he isn’t scared, doesn’t find himself anxiously awaiting your next move. “Good boy,” you purr, reaching one graceful hand forward, playfully tugging at his tie, wrapping it around your knuckles as you use it as leverage to pull him close again.

You’re just so pretty, Jungkook has always thought so. From the moment he first met you until now, there is something about you—a glint in your eyes, a quirk to your lips—that has had him under your spell for weeks now.

Had Jungkook seriously despised you and your ethics, perhaps this feeling would have gone away. But the fact of the matter is that you make Jungkook’s heart hammer dangerously in his chest, a shot of adrenaline through his veins when you look at him with those low-lidded eyes, touch him with those experienced hands. He wants you so bad, even after all he’s learned, all he’s seen. He wants you over him and under him, pressed against him from head to toe. He wants and he wants, and he knows it’s bad to want so much, to be so greedy. But with you around, Jungkook finds himself giving into that greed, clutching at it like a lifeline. “We can, um—,” he stammers, placing one uncertain hand against the top of the door frame beside him. You raise your brows, egging him on yet patiently waiting all at once.

Your gaze is so strong, and it’s in moments like these that Jungkook feels that feeling crawl up his throat. A serpentine gaze, a sticky sweet tongue. Everything he’s ever known says it’s wrong, but his heart and your confession says otherwise. He looks away, throws a bashful glance at the plush leather seats behind him. “In… inside?”

And the offer has you positively beaming before him, that same flirtatious shimmer in your irises doubling at the words that roll off his tongue. “Oh my,” you swoon playfully, stepping back to, Jungkook assumes, allow him to get in.

He plops down, feels like he would break out in a sweat if the evening temperature wasn’t so cool. The car’s interior blends into the shadows, his clothing practically indiscernible against the dark shade of the seats. A stark contrast to the pretty floral dress that suddenly spills itself over his lap when you climb in, the door tugged shut beside the two of you. All is silent, your thighs over his, hands on his shoulders. “Hi, bunny,” you murmur, lips pulled into a smirk, provocative yet playful, like you know something that Jungkook doesn’t.

Jungkook’s throat feels dry but he still manages to gulp. He’s drowning in your perfume and your body lotion, in the faint smell of the outdoors clinging to your clothes and your hair, the absolutely heavenly scent of just you in your entirety. “Hi,” he whispers back, voice lost beneath the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears. And his quiet greeting is rewarded with two soft hands that crawl up his neck, cupping his face in their palms.

“You were so sweet today,” you purr, nose nudging against his when you finally lean in, pressing your breasts against Jungkook. A tiny gasp catches in his throat, his hands instinctively going to your waist. “Can I kiss you again?”

Jungkook has never wanted anything more. “Please,” he exhales, feeling like he’ll explode if you don’t kiss him soon. You take his request in stride, jut your face forward just the slightest bit until your mouth is pressed firmly against his, the movement of your lips a practiced rhythm that he just can’t seem to master. He still tries his best, puckers his lips when he feels it’s right, tilts his head when you urge him with a soft nudge. He tries his best and hopes it’s enough.

By now, Jungkook has come to understand that there is a pattern to your kisses. You always start off slow and relaxed, mouth languidly moving against his as you lure him across a tightrope of anticipation. They gradually become more intense, pulling out whimpers and sighs from Jungkook that he had never known were possible. It’s a carefully crafted art form, the tongue that slides out from between your pillowy lips, dips into his own mouth with a giggly pant. “Good boy,” you hum in between, hands burying themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Always so good.”

Jungkook shudders when you eventually part, can’t catch his breath fast enough before you’re reaching for the buttons on the front of his shirt, easily undoing the casual tie too. “Relax,” you tell him, bypassing his lips for the warm expanse of skin just below. You kiss over his chin, down his neck, as your hands crawl beneath his shirt and around his naked waist.

He’s ticklish, and when you brush against his ribs, he unwillingly releases a sharp huff of laughter. It’s followed by a wide-eyed look of embarrassment, cheeks a warm hue when you lean back in surprise at this new bit of information. “I— sorry,” he blurts out, because he doesn’t know proper make-out etiquette, doesn’t know anything really, except what you’ve shown him.

But the sound makes you snort, looking at him with this gaze that drips with honey. “So cute,” you tell him, placing a chaste kiss against his lips, before disappearing back down to lavish his throat with filthier kisses. And with you laving your tongue across his skin, biting at every inch available, Jungkook is left to fuzzily stare over the crystal clear windshield. He’s struck with the faint realization that if someone were to look hard enough, they would see him through the tinted glass as he fell apart into the hands of a pretty girl.

The soft smack of your lips against his skin is sensual, makes every hair on his body stand stiff. Your lips trail down the column of his neck, placing a bruising kiss at the juncture where it meets the rest of his body. “Oh,” he sighs, eyelids fluttering when a hand squeezes at his chest, thumb against his nipple.

Another muffled giggle pressed against the base of his neck, and when Jungkook focuses his eyes again, he catches his own gaze in the rearview mirror.

The sight of him is… weird to say the least.

Even in the dark, his lips look thoroughly debauched, puffier and redder than usual, slick with saliva that isn’t entirely his. He doesn’t tell himself to, but his mirrored counterpart peeks his tongue out, runs it along his top lip sinfully. Startled by his own appearance, Jungkook jolts in place, feeling you shift in his lap with a soft little whine. “Bunny,” you frown, and Jungkook watches your side profile in the tiny mirror as you sit back up, press your lips against his ear. “Sit still for me,” you tell him, hand slithering up his chest, around his throat. Over his Adam’s apple, squeezing just the slightest. It’s not tight, but it knocks the air out of his lungs when he sees the action mirrored back at him on the reflective surface.

That familiar guilt sticks in his throat, evident when your hand slips away and he swallows harshly, the protrusion just beneath his skin bobbing up and down.

In the back of Jungkook’s mind, he can recall the religious story that surrounded this bodily feature; a sin and the consequence. A garden and a fruit, a beautiful woman by his side.

Your hand creeps down between your bodies, palming over his quickly fattening cock, and Jungkook swears he sees stars, a strained whimper escaping from his lips that you giggle at. “Oh my,” he huffs, clutching at the skirt of your dress. You nuzzle close again, pressing a tender kiss against the side of his neck.

Your hands are so soft and sweet, brushing over his cock like you’re simply caressing him out of adoration and not because you want him to cum, staining his seats and your dress. Either way, Jungkook can’t even begin to imagine what you must be thinking; before the date and his confession, he had been afraid that you would discard him. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t what you wanted, maybe he wasn’t what you needed. You were so confident in yourself and your actions, a stark contrast to Jungkook and his constant uncertainty, his fear of doing the wrong thing plaguing him at all hours of the day.

Even now, with your hands expertly tugging his zipper down, he finds himself going back to that story. That apple in the garden, the consequences it had hailed. Never mind the fact you’re on top of him, claiming to like him, with your hands touching every inch of his skin. He keeps looping back to that Biblical verse instead, thinks about it when your fingers meanly let the elastic band of his briefs snap against his skin. “Ouch,” he flinches, voice a soft whine. He turns too quickly and too suddenly, nose bumping against yours because you’re still so close.

You smile, puckering your lips for the lightest of kisses. It’s the little things like that that make Jungkook’s entire thought process stall, distantly aware of the fact that it’s, like always, you leading the majority of your encounters once again. Even during your picnic, it had been you who had practically held his hand as you navigated through basic information, asked for his favorite color and his favorite drink. Had it not been for your own proactive tendencies, Jungkook fears he would have never known your favorite color was pink or your favorite day of the week was Thursday.

It’s a fact that makes him pause, jaw tightening as he once again realizes how little effort he was putting into knowing you. For someone who claimed to like you a lot, he rarely did the work to prove it. Even now, he’s too unsure of who he is and who you are to indulge you properly, instead watching you lead the scene as usual. Before he can stop himself, a sigh is escaping his lips.

It must convey his emotions perfectly, because it’s enough to make your wandering hands pause by his waist. “Everything okay?” you ask, always knowing what he’s feeling. And it sucks that he couldn’t say the same for himself.

“N— Yes,” he rushes to say, looking up at you with round eyes, the moonlight painting half of your face a paler color than usual, the other side shrouded in darkness. It makes your eyes look darker, makes Jungkook gulp loudly when you turn those inquisitive eyes on him.

His answer doesn’t seem to convince you, and it’s with little to no hesitation that you sit back. It puts a distance between the two of you that Jungkook can’t say he’s a fan of. “Jungkook,” you say, voice stern yet warm, one hand reaching up to brush your knuckles against his cheek. “Tell me what’s bothering you?”

It makes Jungkook nervous. He knows he thinks too much. Part of him fears that oversharing with you will drive you away, put you even farther than you are now. Maybe next time it’ll be a room’s length away, a football field’s length away. And he doesn’t want that; he wants to hold you close, he really does. But there are traditions he carries and beliefs he holds dearly that make it hard for him to do so, as much as it pains him.

The only reason he knows he’s frowning is because you press your pointer finger against the corner of his mouth. You lean in close, nose bumping against his. It sends your scent billowing over him, makes him dizzy when he becomes aware of the hand he’s got on your bare thigh, the rumpled skirt of your dress pushed away. “Talk to me, bunny,” you murmur. You don’t make a move to kiss him, a fact that Jungkook feels both grateful and disheartened by. “Please?”

And he can’t deny you, not when you ask so nicely. You have this metaphorical grip on Jungkook, a tight hold around his throat that has made him act impulsively these past few weeks, desperate to be with you, to please you. Even now, despite how much he wants to withhold his thoughts, he finds himself quietly admitting them instead. “I want to know you,” he mumbles, unable to meet your eye. You don’t push him to. “I really, um. I like you, __. A lot.” It’s a repetition of his earlier confession. And still, it makes him nervous. A thumb brushes against his cheekbone, encouraging him to meet your solemn gaze even if it means being a blushing mess afterwards. “Before we, uh, do… things.”

His words may be choppy and incoherent, but you understand him all the same. “You want to go out some more,” you clarify, removing your hand from his cheek. The phantom trail of your fingertips on his skin remains, feels colder when you lean away to allow him some more space.

Jungkook nods quickly, hoping this rush of adrenaline might help him through this. He bites down on his lower lip, carefully analyzing your expression for any signs of disbelief or disgust. But all he sees is understanding, a cool expression that makes Jungkook’s heart thunder. “I…,” he says, glancing down at where he’s still got his hand on your naked skin. Something inside of him tells him to rub his thumb across it, an action he doesn’t think through until he hears a sharp inhale, watches goosebumps rise over the skin. “I’m sorry,” he rushes out, snatching his hand away before he can do something else of a similar sort. “I- I just—“ said hand now waves around wildly beside him “—I really like you, as a, um— uh. A person. And I—“ and this is where he becomes aware of his unbuttoned shirt and the way you’ve got your pretty pussy pressed against his thigh now “—I, um. I want to know me— I mean, you —better? More? Like—“

His embarrassing babbling is cut off with a gentle kiss to his lips. No tongue, no saliva. Just soft lips against his, a delicate hand against his shoulders. When you pull away, Jungkook unconsciously trails after the touch, eyes half-lidded and in a daze when you place a palm on his chest. “I got it,” you say, lips quirking into a tiny smile. “I want to know more about you too, bunny,” you admit, reaching for the front of his shirt. He watches on with flushed cheeks as you slowly button it up for him, finishing it off with a playful tap against the underside of his chin.

You glance out of the window thoughtfully. Jungkook is suddenly reminded of how pretty you are, your skin practically glimmering under the pale moonlight. It catches on your necklace, a thin chain with a cross on the end. If he focuses his eyes behind you, his own reflection stares back once more. Jungkook’s entire body threatens to lock up tightly, but a single kiss on the cheek from you interrupts the process. “Do you wanna date?” you ask, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Jungkook can’t agree fast enough. “I— yes,” he gasps, leaning forward too suddenly. It makes you flinch back in surprise, back pressing up against the driver’s seat behind you in surprise. You wouldn’t have fallen or anything, but Jungkook reacts like it was a serious possibility anyway, grasping at your waist and pulling you snug against him, soft thighs sandwiching his tiny waist. “Oh, God,” he frets, immediately moving to release you.

But you catch him with two arms thrown around his neck, pulling Jungkook close to you for another kiss. Deeper and… meaningful, your satiny lips carefully slotted against his. While it surprises him at first, Jungkook finds himself melting into it soon enough. This was okay, he tells himself, and for the first time in a few weeks, he finds himself believing it.

It was just kissing— intimate yet appropriate kissing —between two people who were seeing each other. Him, properly seeing you. His heart threatens to burst out of its cage for a second. It’s the first time since he’s met you that he can fully say he hadn’t felt nervous about his actions, hadn’t felt like he was committing some grave sin for chasing after your touch. It was just a kiss, simple and sweet, making both of you smile bashfully when you eventually pull away. There was no lying and no guilt, no tears and no stress.

It felt good.

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chateautae · 3 years

Text

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

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

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

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

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 19k

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

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

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

“Are you serious, Jimin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm, I’ll think about it.”

And Jimin cut the call without a second to spare.

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

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

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

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

Who the fuck is ever doing nothing on Christmas Eve?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was really you.

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

The same you he once liked.

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

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

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

“Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you?”

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

“Oh my God, Kim Taehyung?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The same Taehyung you once liked.

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

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

It was nearly daunting to see the gorgeous difference now.

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

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

“And you’re still short, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair point, so in two days, huh?”

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

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

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

He was a man now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taehyung : remember to bring your competitive side today ;)

You : omg, what did jimin plan?

Taehyung : you’ll have to wait and see

Taehyung : jimin’s a creative one, remember?

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

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

Taehyung : be there in 5!

You : gotchu!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sources? You.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No way, is that Y/N?”

“Holy fuck, Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Goddamn you.

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

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

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

“But Tae-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God fucking dammit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Competition?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A very beautiful, attractive woman.

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

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

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

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

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

“Taehyung, are you listening?”

He blinked. “Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That was an accident, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And fall even harder.

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

You blinked. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it damn well thrilled him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d love to see you try.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it was downright fearful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

Wait.

Jimin’s advice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pure, unadulterated love.

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

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

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

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

You loved him too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked. “What?”

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

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

“Sure, I’d love that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your apartment is nice.”

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

“I thought I’d never see you again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And little did you know, you really did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, I can’t do this anymore.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your core ignited at just his touch against bare skin, gushing as your hips harshly grinded against his body and your hands smoothed over the lean muscle of his body.

He yanked the pieces of clothing down the curve of your ass, proceeding to pull them past your thighs as you unhooked your legs to help take them off you.

The rush of the cold against your wet pussy lips made your breath hitch beautifully, one of Taehyung’s hands moving your skirt to let his large, warm palm cup your sex so pleasurably the contrast of the size of his hand and your little cunt sent you both ablaze.

“You’re so small, think you can take me, good girl?” Taehyung breathed against your chest. “I’ll fuck up your insides.” His baritone voice was dark and low as he warned you, sent arousal spiking through your nerves as you groaned.

“Fuck up my insides, Tae.” You desperately moaned out, hands finding Taehyung’s hair as he continued to lay searing kisses to your hot skin, his fingers rubbing your dripping folds harshly. “I just.. I need you, Taehyung, so fucking badly.”

“Say it again.” Taehyung hissed, exposing one of your bare breasts from your dress and pressing his tongue against a perched nipple, the wet sensation so satisfying you were scratching his shoulder blades.

“I-I need you, Taehyung.”

“Need me where?” He growled as he pressed against your clit and circled it, collecting your slick and spreading it all over yourself.

And it was hard, so fucking hard to think straight with your bare, soaking wet pussy was rubbing against Taehyung’s rough fingers and his lips sucking your exposed nipple for dear life, the pleasure burning inside you so hot your voice was coming out in choked moans.

“Need you inside, Taehyung.” You gasped out. “So empty without you, so fucking empty, for so long.”

“God, fuck.” Taehyung groaned proudly, popping off your breast to look at your half-lidded eyes, his own blown out with his hair mussed and lips swollen pink. He returned to your lips again as his hands simultaneously hooked underneath your thighs and suddenly lifted you off the couch, your legs secured around his torso as he walked you into what you assumed was his bedroom.

Your core rubbed against the buckle of Taehyung’s belt as he walked and you gushed oceans, the cool metal providing such delicious friction you were moaning satisfyingly into Taehyung’s mouth, grinding against him for more.

His kiss was fervent even when he splayed you onto his covers, back hitting the bed as you stroked your hands over his beautiful bare chest.

Taehyung suddenly came off you, eyes going wild as he looked down at your panting figure underneath him, then your offensive dress.

“Fuck this thing.” Taehyung nearly ripped it from your body, shredding the pretty fabric off and simply basked in the glory of seeing your naked body for the very first time.

Taehyung’s eyes filled with pure wonder, the moonlight and reflection of white snow falling outside adding a glow to your skin he couldn’t help but marvel at, your curves so beautiful he wanted to run his hands all over, the purple of his marks left on you only making him blossom with more arousal, more passion.

“Holy shit, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Taehyung’s face was so blown away, you couldn’t help but grow a little shy, bringing him close to you by his neck so you could breathe into his ear.

“Good, I hear you ruin them.”

Taehyung could only smirk, rolling his tongue on the inside of his cheek, cock twitching at just your words. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Taehyung trailed one hand down your body, momentarily wrapping it around your throat until it was gliding over your nipple and down to your core, lining the lips of your pussy so teasingly you were reeling.

The pads of his fingers smoothed over your pussy lips again, applying pressure to your clit that had you lurching, until he used the opportunity to slide two fingers into your aching hole with ease.

“You’re so fucking wet, dripping all over my fingers.” He growled into your ear as he laid himself on top of you, his free hand holding your face while the other worked your core.

The sharpness of his long, slender fingers were euphoric, causing you to moan loudly. You could see his hard dick pressing against the fabric of his slacks almost painfully, and you jutted your hand out to begin palming him generously.

Taehyung could finally hiss as loud as he wanted, screwing his eyes shut in sheer pleasure.

He began pumping you faster in response, sliding in and out so deliciously you were moaning incessantly against his mouth as he began kissing you again. Your breasts were pressing into Taehyung’s bare chest the more you arched yourself, closing the offensive gap between you both and the skin to skin contact sending you both to cloud nine.

“Taehyung..” You moaned in between kisses, so shameless about your desire for him you only wanted to know his name.

“Taehyung.”

“Fucking hell, that does shit to me.” Taehyung began thrusting harshly into your hole now as punishment, practically finger-fucking you against his bed till it made your walls clamp down on him, trap his slender fingers inside so you could feel every heavenly inch of them.

You became hungry for more, your hand grabbing at Taehyung’s straining cock harder and the strangled groan that left his lips was so fucking beautiful, your insides were screaming.

“Shit, Taehyung,” You moaned out breathlessly. “You’re so hot like this, so fucking hot. Fuck me, fuck me like you said you would. ”

Taehyung’s breaths turned heavy and hungry, his cock aching to be inside you so painfully he was going insane at your every word.

“Fuck. I’m fucking you into next week. I’m fucking you until you only know my name. Fucking you until you know how badly I’ve wanted you, until your legs are shaking and you feel me in your throat.”

“Then do it.” You nearly cried out, hands fumbling with the waistband of Taehyung’s pants. Your pussy was aching so excruciatingly around Taehyung’s fingers your slick was gushing from you, all over him and it only made Taehyung feral thinking about what would happen if it were his dick instead.

“Fucking do it, Taehyung, fuck me until I’m shaking.”

Taehyung flipped his switch and suddenly shoved his fingers so deep inside you, scissoring you completely open it made you lurch up in searing pleasure. His large palm grabbed underneath your head and positioned you upwards, able to angle his fingers so he could smash them inside you so harshly it was pathetic it wasn’t even his dick that had you high, but just his fingers.

“Holy fuck, Taehyung!”

“Cum all over my fingers, pretty. I wanna hear you.” Taehyung growled into your ear, couldn’t help but think about your walls convulsing around his dick and it was euphoric hearing you moan, all fucked out underneath him.

He couldn’t stop finger-fucking you like his life depended on it, wanted to fill you up in so many ways you’d remember him for weeks.

You were almost there, the edge so close. It was racking the bottom of your stomach, had your toes curling and walls pounding so snug around Taehyung’s fingers you could only latch onto the nape of his neck for dear life.

You felt it, felt it so near and had his name leaving your mouth in such an intoxicating mantra you were seconds from letting go. Seconds, milliseconds, just about to release your impending orgasm until Taehyung ripped his fingers out of you.

You gasped scandalously at the loss, body buzzing with your unachieved high it made your exclaim come out in a garbled protest. “Taehyung, what the fuck?!”

You tried getting an answer, but Taehyung’s hungry, half-lidded eyes shut you up immediately, watching him lick his fingers like he was starved, like this was the sweetest honey he’s ever tasted.

“Fuck, you taste as sweet as you look.” Taehyung’s grin was evil, and it made you turned on but pissed he denied your orgasms.

“You’re so-” You attempted to get out, but Taehyung suddenly flipped you onto all fours in a second, your hands and knees anchored onto the bed with only your shocked figure confused.

“T-Taehyung, what are you-” You then sighed at the sudden touch of his tongue meeting your weeping hole in a devilish swipe. It was intoxicating, feeling his wet muscle begin licking into your core and tasting your soaked folds from behind.

“I’m doing what you asked..” His voice was dark and weighty, and that’s when you suddenly felt another sensation of his two fingers returning to your throbbing entrance. Your insides buzzed when he spoke against your core, grittier than he ever has all night. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

And his tongue suddenly slithered into your hole when he removed his fingers, licking into your entrance in a harsh rhythm as his palms began grabbing at your ass, kneading the meaty flesh as he straight up devoured your pussy like it was the only thing he’s wanted his entire life.

His tongue was lapping you fervently, so starved your dissipated orgasm was coming back again. You were winded, having never been eaten out like this and you were moaning his name loud enough to get noise complaints filed to the police.

“Taehyung!” You cried out, though he didn’t let up. Instead he brought one of his hands to your pulsing clit, circling and applying so much necessary pressure you were losing your mind, insane off the fact he hadn’t even filled you up with his cock yet and you were pathetic underneath him.

“Fucking God, Taehyung, Tae!” And when he groaned so audibly into your pussy, rutting himself against the bed for friction it sent you flying, soaring into the sky and losing all coherent thought as your orgasm bubbled in your stomach, his husky voice grounding you to Earth.

“Cum for me, baby, now.” And that was all it took to have you lurching over the edge, releasing your pent up orgasm so violently you were nearly screaming, Taehyung’s name the only distinguishable thing rolling off your tongue.

He licked up your juices like they were fresh water, helping you ride out your euphoric orgasm and allowing yourself a moment to rest. You breathed, falling onto the bed in exhaustion, trying to quell the blood pumping in your ears when Taehyung suddenly pulled you back onto your hands and knees, cautioning you darkly when he spoke.

“You thought we were done?” It was evil, he was evil, the way his voice sounded like the epitome of a smirk as you tried catching your breath. Taehyung’s lips then suddenly ghosted the shell of your ear as he wrapped an arm around your torso, pressing his chest to your back as he spoke.

“I haven’t even done anything yet.”

And again, it was the ‘yet’ that had you groaning out in frustration but in the best possible ways. How wasn’t this already enough? How did he have you so fucked out just by the sheer power of his fingers and tongue? It was sickening, he was sickening and you found yourself throwing your ass back on him to urge his cock into you already, to just fuck you open with all he had.

“Taehyung, just-fuck! Fuck me, please.” You were pleading, needing to feel the wreckage of what you could tell was the biggest cock you’ll ever take.

Taehyung had removed his pants and boxers in the moment, freeing his painfully angry cock from it’s confines. You were faltering from your position again when Taehyung suddenly prodded your abused hole with his engorged tip, you shuddering to life harshly.

“Taehyung, just-”

“Beg me.”

You cried out in immediate desperation, his voice so authoritative it was sending you into submission, clutching the covers under you so hard your knuckles were white as you complied. “Taehyung, please, fuck me. I need you, please.”

Taehyung’s arm was snug around your torso, feeling your every quaking expire in his hold and it was turning him on so agonizingly this was painful even for himself, but the way your sweet voice begged him was absolutely exhilarating.

“More.”

“Taehyung, if you don’t fucking-!” You were cut off by the sharp impalement of Taehyung’s cock in a single breath, knocking all forms of wind out of you. The head alone was so large you went hurtling into the mattress, almost losing your shaking arms’ support until Taehyung pulled you back up for him, snaking his one hand that was previously around his cock to your breast while the other gripped at your hip.

He was slowly sinking in, feeling your walls flutter open for him and the satisfied moan that left his mouth was evidence of how much this was affecting him.

“Fuck...” Taehyung dragged out completely content, digging into your hip to watch you arch your back for him, on his knees as he filled you up from behind. “You’re so fucking tight and wet, holy shit.”

You were struggling for air, oxygen leaving your lungs trying to accommodate for his monstrous size. It was unfair, so unfair he was so big and it had you praising him immediately, so full and stuffed it was the most pleasurable thing you’ve experienced all your life.

“You’re so big, oh my God, Taehyung, so big.” One of your hands shot towards his holding you by your hip, interlacing your fingers together against your skin just to ground yourself, to manage the sharp pierce of his length until it simmered into a pleasurable burn.

He bottomed out into your cervix and you both grunted loud, Taehyung containing himself just so he could feel your velvet walls palpitate around his throbbing dick. “Do you feel how hard I am, Y/N? Do you fucking feel it?”

“Yes, God fuck! Tae, yes..” You sighed out, eyes watering at just how much pleasure was already raking your abdomen again.

“That’s what you do to me, you barely touched me and this is how hard I am. How fucking badly I want you, how much I’ve always wanted you, wanted you since day one.” Taehyung’s voice was sincere and desperate, seemingly trying to counter your confession of your feelings from earlier.

“Show me, Taehyung.” You moaned, hands gripping his more affectionately, more desperately as you weakly held yourself up by the other. “Fuck me and show me how much you want me.”

Taehyung grunted out harshly, pulling his cock out of you until he thrusted back in. The first thrust had you keening, sending you into the mattress only to have Taehyung pull you back up once again. Then the second came, your walls greedily soaking him into you and it felt perfect, like two puzzle pieces meant to connect with each other.

Then came the third, the fourth, the fifth, all the way until Taehyung was pounding into you from behind with a drag so delicious you were moaning out more than you ever have in your entire life.

And it was sickening, utterly sickening the way his dick began fucking you into the mattress so roughly, angling your body in ways for his cock to pump into all the right places with the right amount of pressure. He watched himself disappear into your little cunt repeatedly, holding your hip up to encourage you to arch so low your ass was snug against his pelvis, and couldn’t think of anything more fucking perfect.

“You take me so well, so fucking well.” Taehyung praised, leaning over to aimlessly lay wet kisses up your spine like the demon he was, shoving himself into you over and over and over again with your walls convulsing around him.

You were trapping him inside you so tight he could spill into you in seconds, though held back determined he was making you cum again.

“So full, Taehyung, so deep.. all I feel is you.” The statement left you with a desperate sigh, your head hanging low until Taehyung’s hand kneading your breast suddenly wrapped around your throat, causing you to gasp at the arousing feeling. He pulled your head upwards, the junction between his long index finger and thumb forcing you to look forward, and you were utterly breathless at the scene.

His lips were near your ear in seconds, speaking like the devil incarnate as he was bent over you. “Look at us, look at yourself, so fucking pretty, so perfect.” You could suddenly see the reflection of Taehyung fucking into you from behind in his window, not even knowing tears had streamed down your face as his hand beautifully encased your throat, causing every nerve in your body to alight with fire.

“Look at the way I fuck you, how much I love you.” Taehyung’s carnal eyes looked at you through the reflection of the window, heart twinging at the sight of you crying but knowing he’s making you feel good, continuing his onslaught of drilling your battered pussy.

You moaned at the erotic scene, using every ounce of strength to keep yourself upright, your walls pulsing around Taehyung’s length as he thrusted harder and harder.

“Tae, fuck! I’ve always loved you, I always felt the same way, and I still do-ah!” Your lungs were tapping out when he suddenly shoved himself inside you to the brim, so utterly deep before he was thrusting again harshly, strangling out moans.

Clear sweat was slick between your bodies, his huge, delicious cock incessantly tearing up your insides and all you could do was chant his name in pleasure, in bliss, in your love for him that was burning so bright it was nearly painful.

“Y/N.. fuck. You’re ruining me. You’re so perfect, we’re so fucking perfect.” Taehyung was rambling at this point as his speed reflected his desperation, his immeasurable feelings for you.

He was trying his damn hardest to distract himself from the release aching his balls. He was growing weak himself, feeling you reciprocate his rough thrusts by fucking him back the same way. And the image in the window? Had him reeling, needing to hear the most beautiful sound you’d make when you finally came, and he knew you would, bordering the precipice with the way your walls pulsed around him.

Watching Taehyung fuck you in the window was now downright sinful to you, his harsh thrusts completely blissful and his hand gently squeezing at your throat was so dominant, so hot you were at your limit and ready to come.

But what ended up sending you over, pushing you to release the tightening knot in your stomach was the sweet, tender way Taehyung began kissing your neck.

The contrast between his cock abusing you and his plush lips kissing you so gently, so lovingly, it wasn’t long before you realized his fucking wasn’t just hard or rough, but full of sheer want, desire, love in all the right ways your walls were clenching around him rapidly in seconds.

And when Taehyung angled himself somehow deeper, in that one, perfect spot, you clamped down and finally came so hard you saw stars, knew you’d completely drenched his cock with the loudest release of his name you were glad it was the only word you knew in this moment.

“That’s it, baby. Just like that.” Taehyung breathed out in exhaustion, began soothing your abdomen with one hand and the other letting your head finally hang, grip loosened from around your throat and you could finally allow air back into your lungs.

You were heaving when you spoke up, realizing something. “Inside me.. Taehyung.” You were dreary, utterly gone, but it still didn’t distract you from the blissful feeling of Taehyung’s cock deliciously stuffed and throbbing inside you, trying to coax his rightful release. “Cum inside me, Tae. Please, fill me up.”

Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice when his cock worked a few more rough strokes into your tightened pussy and finally, finally came inside you. It was laced with a satisfied groan of your name, his grip on your side so intense you’d be glad if he left marks, wanting to remember every last bit of this night with Taehyung.

He painted you completely white inside, spilling everything he could offer into you, using what little strength he had left to hold you up while he continued to empty his seed inside. Taehyung then lost all function and allowed you to fall, his broad body resting on top of yours as you both hit the mattress.

Your chests rose and fell shallowly, completely taxed and having lost every ounce of strength. Taehyung’s hot breaths for air were fanning your neck, your arms sprawled out before you as Taehyung’s hands mindlessly interlaced with them against the tousled covers, cock still stuffing you whole.

It was another moment of breathing and regaining oxygen when Taehyung suddenly kissed the side of your neck, giving your hands a small squeeze before you felt him lifting himself, his warmth disappearing and you panicked.

“Where are you going?” Your throat was hoarse from screaming and moaning, a tinge of sadness to your tone as though he was leaving you, and Taehyung couldn’t help but find it endearing.

“It’s okay, I’ll be right back.” He smiled, moving your hair from the side of your face to plant a kiss to your cheek, post-sex haze racking his brain though allowing reality to leak back into his mind.

He then carefully, slowly pulled himself out of you, you whining at the loss of him and Taehyung smiled to himself in contentment, smoothing over your lower back with a palm in gratitude, before stepping towards his bathroom.

He’d pulled his boxers back on and returned with a damp cloth, finding you still flipped and laying on your stomach, having dozed off in exhaustion until you felt Taehyung’s warmth and heard his dulcet voice hazing you awake.

“Y/N, turn over for me.” His voice was hushed and tender, you complying by turning onto your back with his help. He then carefully swept the cloth against your battered core, you wincing a little with sensitivity and Taehyung made sure to clean more gently.

The cloth was thrown back into his bathroom when he turned back to you, an arm thrown over your tear-stained face and the other clutching your body, clearly shivering in the cold now.

Taehyung easily scooped you into his arms and lifted you off the bed, carrying you over to his pillows and delicately placing you upon his duvet, pulling the covers out from underneath you and tucking you into his bed.

You curled up into his blanket, Taehyung searching through his drawers for a stray t-shirt you could wear. He then lifted you into a sitting position, your eyes evidently sleepy and body limp as he pulled the shirt onto you, letting you fall back in place.

Taehyung could only chuckle to himself thinking he did mean to ruin you, but not so harshly you were devoid of consciousness. He placed a little kiss to your forehead in apology, wiping some of the tears off your face before he rounded the bed, crawling in next to you.

His arms reached out to pull your back snug against his chest, feeling the sleep in the back of his eyes take him. He basked in the strawberry scent of your hair, completely gratified until you suddenly turned over towards him.

His eyes shot open, only the top of your head coming into view as you nuzzled into his warm chest, your small self all tucked into Taehyung as he wrapped his arms around you like a safety net, holding you near.

And in that moment, all he could focus on was your light breathing, the sweet sound of your voice as you suddenly spoke in the dark of the night, moonlight glowing upon your entangled bodies.

“I love you, Taehyung.”

He grinned, the kind where he felt relieved, fulfilled, in a state of sheer bliss it was a moment before he replied, his own voice calm as you felt the hum through his chest, his hand tangled in your hair.

“I love you, Y/N.”

The morning sun bled into Taehyung’s room, your eyes fluttering open at a time you had no concept of. You stirred, finding yourself still in Taehyung’s arm, in relatively the same position from last night. You didn’t even feel like moving from his hold, the feeling so utterly fuzzy and comforting.

You basked in the sensation until he began to stir next to you, pretty eyelashes batting as his eyes fluttered open. His sights fell to you, eyes adorably taken by sleep while his soft hair was endearingly mussed by his pillow. You smiled at him warmly as he grinned back.

“Good morning.” you said shyly, nearly hiding underneath his covers.

“Good morning.”

You then flopped onto your back peering up at the ceiling, last night coming back to you in dream-like flashes you were surprised was somehow your reality.

It was just miraculous, utterly unbelievable until Taehyung turning into your side and snuggling his face into your neck was evidence everything was real, that he was real. It wasn’t some remnant of a dream or hallucination, but the real Taehyung as his arm draped over your stomach.

You had to bite your lip to contain your happiness, utter exuberance the universe had somehow finally paired you and him together, and funnily enough, on Christmas of all days.

“What are you thinking about, princess?” Taehyung hummed into your collarbone inquisitively, half asleep as he cuddled you.

You smiled, basking in his comfort. “Merry Christmas, Taehyung.”

Taehyung chuckled against you, arm pulling you closer to him as he kissed your neck. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Can you believe we met each other again during Christmas? It’s like the perfect Christmas miracle.” You marveled in wonder, tracing your finger along Taehyung’s pretty hand on your stomach.

“I mean, you know what Andy Williams said..” He mused next to you, husky voice laden with sleep. “It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”

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