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chateautae · 3 years

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

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

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

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

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 19k

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

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

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

“Are you serious, Jimin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm, I’ll think about it.”

And Jimin cut the call without a second to spare.

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

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

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

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

Who the fuck is ever doing nothing on Christmas Eve?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was really you.

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

The same you he once liked.

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

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

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

“Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you?”

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

“Oh my God, Kim Taehyung?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The same Taehyung you once liked.

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

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

It was nearly daunting to see the gorgeous difference now.

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

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

“And you’re still short, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair point, so in two days, huh?”

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

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

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

He was a man now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taehyung : remember to bring your competitive side today ;)

You : omg, what did jimin plan?

Taehyung : you’ll have to wait and see

Taehyung : jimin’s a creative one, remember?

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

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

Taehyung : be there in 5!

You : gotchu!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sources? You.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No way, is that Y/N?”

“Holy fuck, Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Goddamn you.

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

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

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

“But Tae-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God fucking dammit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Competition?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A very beautiful, attractive woman.

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

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

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

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

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

“Taehyung, are you listening?”

He blinked. “Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That was an accident, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And fall even harder.

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

You blinked. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it damn well thrilled him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d love to see you try.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it was downright fearful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

Wait.

Jimin’s advice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pure, unadulterated love.

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

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

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

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

You loved him too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked. “What?”

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

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

“Sure, I’d love that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your apartment is nice.”

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

“I thought I’d never see you again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And little did you know, you really did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, I can’t do this anymore.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your core ignited at just his touch against bare skin, gushing as your hips harshly grinded against his body and your hands smoothed over the lean muscle of his body.

He yanked the pieces of clothing down the curve of your ass, proceeding to pull them past your thighs as you unhooked your legs to help take them off you.

The rush of the cold against your wet pussy lips made your breath hitch beautifully, one of Taehyung’s hands moving your skirt to let his large, warm palm cup your sex so pleasurably the contrast of the size of his hand and your little cunt sent you both ablaze.

“You’re so small, think you can take me, good girl?” Taehyung breathed against your chest. “I’ll fuck up your insides.” His baritone voice was dark and low as he warned you, sent arousal spiking through your nerves as you groaned.

“Fuck up my insides, Tae.” You desperately moaned out, hands finding Taehyung’s hair as he continued to lay searing kisses to your hot skin, his fingers rubbing your dripping folds harshly. “I just.. I need you, Taehyung, so fucking badly.”

“Say it again.” Taehyung hissed, exposing one of your bare breasts from your dress and pressing his tongue against a perched nipple, the wet sensation so satisfying you were scratching his shoulder blades.

“I-I need you, Taehyung.”

“Need me where?” He growled as he pressed against your clit and circled it, collecting your slick and spreading it all over yourself.

And it was hard, so fucking hard to think straight with your bare, soaking wet pussy was rubbing against Taehyung’s rough fingers and his lips sucking your exposed nipple for dear life, the pleasure burning inside you so hot your voice was coming out in choked moans.

“Need you inside, Taehyung.” You gasped out. “So empty without you, so fucking empty, for so long.”

“God, fuck.” Taehyung groaned proudly, popping off your breast to look at your half-lidded eyes, his own blown out with his hair mussed and lips swollen pink. He returned to your lips again as his hands simultaneously hooked underneath your thighs and suddenly lifted you off the couch, your legs secured around his torso as he walked you into what you assumed was his bedroom.

Your core rubbed against the buckle of Taehyung’s belt as he walked and you gushed oceans, the cool metal providing such delicious friction you were moaning satisfyingly into Taehyung’s mouth, grinding against him for more.

His kiss was fervent even when he splayed you onto his covers, back hitting the bed as you stroked your hands over his beautiful bare chest.

Taehyung suddenly came off you, eyes going wild as he looked down at your panting figure underneath him, then your offensive dress.

“Fuck this thing.” Taehyung nearly ripped it from your body, shredding the pretty fabric off and simply basked in the glory of seeing your naked body for the very first time.

Taehyung’s eyes filled with pure wonder, the moonlight and reflection of white snow falling outside adding a glow to your skin he couldn’t help but marvel at, your curves so beautiful he wanted to run his hands all over, the purple of his marks left on you only making him blossom with more arousal, more passion.

“Holy shit, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Taehyung’s face was so blown away, you couldn’t help but grow a little shy, bringing him close to you by his neck so you could breathe into his ear.

“Good, I hear you ruin them.”

Taehyung could only smirk, rolling his tongue on the inside of his cheek, cock twitching at just your words. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Taehyung trailed one hand down your body, momentarily wrapping it around your throat until it was gliding over your nipple and down to your core, lining the lips of your pussy so teasingly you were reeling.

The pads of his fingers smoothed over your pussy lips again, applying pressure to your clit that had you lurching, until he used the opportunity to slide two fingers into your aching hole with ease.

“You’re so fucking wet, dripping all over my fingers.” He growled into your ear as he laid himself on top of you, his free hand holding your face while the other worked your core.

The sharpness of his long, slender fingers were euphoric, causing you to moan loudly. You could see his hard dick pressing against the fabric of his slacks almost painfully, and you jutted your hand out to begin palming him generously.

Taehyung could finally hiss as loud as he wanted, screwing his eyes shut in sheer pleasure.

He began pumping you faster in response, sliding in and out so deliciously you were moaning incessantly against his mouth as he began kissing you again. Your breasts were pressing into Taehyung’s bare chest the more you arched yourself, closing the offensive gap between you both and the skin to skin contact sending you both to cloud nine.

“Taehyung..” You moaned in between kisses, so shameless about your desire for him you only wanted to know his name.

“Taehyung.”

“Fucking hell, that does shit to me.” Taehyung began thrusting harshly into your hole now as punishment, practically finger-fucking you against his bed till it made your walls clamp down on him, trap his slender fingers inside so you could feel every heavenly inch of them.

You became hungry for more, your hand grabbing at Taehyung’s straining cock harder and the strangled groan that left his lips was so fucking beautiful, your insides were screaming.

“Shit, Taehyung,” You moaned out breathlessly. “You’re so hot like this, so fucking hot. Fuck me, fuck me like you said you would. ”

Taehyung’s breaths turned heavy and hungry, his cock aching to be inside you so painfully he was going insane at your every word.

“Fuck. I’m fucking you into next week. I’m fucking you until you only know my name. Fucking you until you know how badly I’ve wanted you, until your legs are shaking and you feel me in your throat.”

“Then do it.” You nearly cried out, hands fumbling with the waistband of Taehyung’s pants. Your pussy was aching so excruciatingly around Taehyung’s fingers your slick was gushing from you, all over him and it only made Taehyung feral thinking about what would happen if it were his dick instead.

“Fucking do it, Taehyung, fuck me until I’m shaking.”

Taehyung flipped his switch and suddenly shoved his fingers so deep inside you, scissoring you completely open it made you lurch up in searing pleasure. His large palm grabbed underneath your head and positioned you upwards, able to angle his fingers so he could smash them inside you so harshly it was pathetic it wasn’t even his dick that had you high, but just his fingers.

“Holy fuck, Taehyung!”

“Cum all over my fingers, pretty. I wanna hear you.” Taehyung growled into your ear, couldn’t help but think about your walls convulsing around his dick and it was euphoric hearing you moan, all fucked out underneath him.

He couldn’t stop finger-fucking you like his life depended on it, wanted to fill you up in so many ways you’d remember him for weeks.

You were almost there, the edge so close. It was racking the bottom of your stomach, had your toes curling and walls pounding so snug around Taehyung’s fingers you could only latch onto the nape of his neck for dear life.

You felt it, felt it so near and had his name leaving your mouth in such an intoxicating mantra you were seconds from letting go. Seconds, milliseconds, just about to release your impending orgasm until Taehyung ripped his fingers out of you.

You gasped scandalously at the loss, body buzzing with your unachieved high it made your exclaim come out in a garbled protest. “Taehyung, what the fuck?!”

You tried getting an answer, but Taehyung’s hungry, half-lidded eyes shut you up immediately, watching him lick his fingers like he was starved, like this was the sweetest honey he’s ever tasted.

“Fuck, you taste as sweet as you look.” Taehyung’s grin was evil, and it made you turned on but pissed he denied your orgasms.

“You’re so-” You attempted to get out, but Taehyung suddenly flipped you onto all fours in a second, your hands and knees anchored onto the bed with only your shocked figure confused.

“T-Taehyung, what are you-” You then sighed at the sudden touch of his tongue meeting your weeping hole in a devilish swipe. It was intoxicating, feeling his wet muscle begin licking into your core and tasting your soaked folds from behind.

“I’m doing what you asked..” His voice was dark and weighty, and that’s when you suddenly felt another sensation of his two fingers returning to your throbbing entrance. Your insides buzzed when he spoke against your core, grittier than he ever has all night. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

And his tongue suddenly slithered into your hole when he removed his fingers, licking into your entrance in a harsh rhythm as his palms began grabbing at your ass, kneading the meaty flesh as he straight up devoured your pussy like it was the only thing he’s wanted his entire life.

His tongue was lapping you fervently, so starved your dissipated orgasm was coming back again. You were winded, having never been eaten out like this and you were moaning his name loud enough to get noise complaints filed to the police.

“Taehyung!” You cried out, though he didn’t let up. Instead he brought one of his hands to your pulsing clit, circling and applying so much necessary pressure you were losing your mind, insane off the fact he hadn’t even filled you up with his cock yet and you were pathetic underneath him.

“Fucking God, Taehyung, Tae!” And when he groaned so audibly into your pussy, rutting himself against the bed for friction it sent you flying, soaring into the sky and losing all coherent thought as your orgasm bubbled in your stomach, his husky voice grounding you to Earth.

“Cum for me, baby, now.” And that was all it took to have you lurching over the edge, releasing your pent up orgasm so violently you were nearly screaming, Taehyung’s name the only distinguishable thing rolling off your tongue.

He licked up your juices like they were fresh water, helping you ride out your euphoric orgasm and allowing yourself a moment to rest. You breathed, falling onto the bed in exhaustion, trying to quell the blood pumping in your ears when Taehyung suddenly pulled you back onto your hands and knees, cautioning you darkly when he spoke.

“You thought we were done?” It was evil, he was evil, the way his voice sounded like the epitome of a smirk as you tried catching your breath. Taehyung’s lips then suddenly ghosted the shell of your ear as he wrapped an arm around your torso, pressing his chest to your back as he spoke.

“I haven’t even done anything yet.”

And again, it was the ‘yet’ that had you groaning out in frustration but in the best possible ways. How wasn’t this already enough? How did he have you so fucked out just by the sheer power of his fingers and tongue? It was sickening, he was sickening and you found yourself throwing your ass back on him to urge his cock into you already, to just fuck you open with all he had.

“Taehyung, just-fuck! Fuck me, please.” You were pleading, needing to feel the wreckage of what you could tell was the biggest cock you’ll ever take.

Taehyung had removed his pants and boxers in the moment, freeing his painfully angry cock from it’s confines. You were faltering from your position again when Taehyung suddenly prodded your abused hole with his engorged tip, you shuddering to life harshly.

“Taehyung, just-”

“Beg me.”

You cried out in immediate desperation, his voice so authoritative it was sending you into submission, clutching the covers under you so hard your knuckles were white as you complied. “Taehyung, please, fuck me. I need you, please.”

Taehyung’s arm was snug around your torso, feeling your every quaking expire in his hold and it was turning him on so agonizingly this was painful even for himself, but the way your sweet voice begged him was absolutely exhilarating.

“More.”

“Taehyung, if you don’t fucking-!” You were cut off by the sharp impalement of Taehyung’s cock in a single breath, knocking all forms of wind out of you. The head alone was so large you went hurtling into the mattress, almost losing your shaking arms’ support until Taehyung pulled you back up for him, snaking his one hand that was previously around his cock to your breast while the other gripped at your hip.

He was slowly sinking in, feeling your walls flutter open for him and the satisfied moan that left his mouth was evidence of how much this was affecting him.

“Fuck...” Taehyung dragged out completely content, digging into your hip to watch you arch your back for him, on his knees as he filled you up from behind. “You’re so fucking tight and wet, holy shit.”

You were struggling for air, oxygen leaving your lungs trying to accommodate for his monstrous size. It was unfair, so unfair he was so big and it had you praising him immediately, so full and stuffed it was the most pleasurable thing you’ve experienced all your life.

“You’re so big, oh my God, Taehyung, so big.” One of your hands shot towards his holding you by your hip, interlacing your fingers together against your skin just to ground yourself, to manage the sharp pierce of his length until it simmered into a pleasurable burn.

He bottomed out into your cervix and you both grunted loud, Taehyung containing himself just so he could feel your velvet walls palpitate around his throbbing dick. “Do you feel how hard I am, Y/N? Do you fucking feel it?”

“Yes, God fuck! Tae, yes..” You sighed out, eyes watering at just how much pleasure was already raking your abdomen again.

“That’s what you do to me, you barely touched me and this is how hard I am. How fucking badly I want you, how much I’ve always wanted you, wanted you since day one.” Taehyung’s voice was sincere and desperate, seemingly trying to counter your confession of your feelings from earlier.

“Show me, Taehyung.” You moaned, hands gripping his more affectionately, more desperately as you weakly held yourself up by the other. “Fuck me and show me how much you want me.”

Taehyung grunted out harshly, pulling his cock out of you until he thrusted back in. The first thrust had you keening, sending you into the mattress only to have Taehyung pull you back up once again. Then the second came, your walls greedily soaking him into you and it felt perfect, like two puzzle pieces meant to connect with each other.

Then came the third, the fourth, the fifth, all the way until Taehyung was pounding into you from behind with a drag so delicious you were moaning out more than you ever have in your entire life.

And it was sickening, utterly sickening the way his dick began fucking you into the mattress so roughly, angling your body in ways for his cock to pump into all the right places with the right amount of pressure. He watched himself disappear into your little cunt repeatedly, holding your hip up to encourage you to arch so low your ass was snug against his pelvis, and couldn’t think of anything more fucking perfect.

“You take me so well, so fucking well.” Taehyung praised, leaning over to aimlessly lay wet kisses up your spine like the demon he was, shoving himself into you over and over and over again with your walls convulsing around him.

You were trapping him inside you so tight he could spill into you in seconds, though held back determined he was making you cum again.

“So full, Taehyung, so deep.. all I feel is you.” The statement left you with a desperate sigh, your head hanging low until Taehyung’s hand kneading your breast suddenly wrapped around your throat, causing you to gasp at the arousing feeling. He pulled your head upwards, the junction between his long index finger and thumb forcing you to look forward, and you were utterly breathless at the scene.

His lips were near your ear in seconds, speaking like the devil incarnate as he was bent over you. “Look at us, look at yourself, so fucking pretty, so perfect.” You could suddenly see the reflection of Taehyung fucking into you from behind in his window, not even knowing tears had streamed down your face as his hand beautifully encased your throat, causing every nerve in your body to alight with fire.

“Look at the way I fuck you, how much I love you.” Taehyung’s carnal eyes looked at you through the reflection of the window, heart twinging at the sight of you crying but knowing he’s making you feel good, continuing his onslaught of drilling your battered pussy.

You moaned at the erotic scene, using every ounce of strength to keep yourself upright, your walls pulsing around Taehyung’s length as he thrusted harder and harder.

“Tae, fuck! I’ve always loved you, I always felt the same way, and I still do-ah!” Your lungs were tapping out when he suddenly shoved himself inside you to the brim, so utterly deep before he was thrusting again harshly, strangling out moans.

Clear sweat was slick between your bodies, his huge, delicious cock incessantly tearing up your insides and all you could do was chant his name in pleasure, in bliss, in your love for him that was burning so bright it was nearly painful.

“Y/N.. fuck. You’re ruining me. You’re so perfect, we’re so fucking perfect.” Taehyung was rambling at this point as his speed reflected his desperation, his immeasurable feelings for you.

He was trying his damn hardest to distract himself from the release aching his balls. He was growing weak himself, feeling you reciprocate his rough thrusts by fucking him back the same way. And the image in the window? Had him reeling, needing to hear the most beautiful sound you’d make when you finally came, and he knew you would, bordering the precipice with the way your walls pulsed around him.

Watching Taehyung fuck you in the window was now downright sinful to you, his harsh thrusts completely blissful and his hand gently squeezing at your throat was so dominant, so hot you were at your limit and ready to come.

But what ended up sending you over, pushing you to release the tightening knot in your stomach was the sweet, tender way Taehyung began kissing your neck.

The contrast between his cock abusing you and his plush lips kissing you so gently, so lovingly, it wasn’t long before you realized his fucking wasn’t just hard or rough, but full of sheer want, desire, love in all the right ways your walls were clenching around him rapidly in seconds.

And when Taehyung angled himself somehow deeper, in that one, perfect spot, you clamped down and finally came so hard you saw stars, knew you’d completely drenched his cock with the loudest release of his name you were glad it was the only word you knew in this moment.

“That’s it, baby. Just like that.” Taehyung breathed out in exhaustion, began soothing your abdomen with one hand and the other letting your head finally hang, grip loosened from around your throat and you could finally allow air back into your lungs.

You were heaving when you spoke up, realizing something. “Inside me.. Taehyung.” You were dreary, utterly gone, but it still didn’t distract you from the blissful feeling of Taehyung’s cock deliciously stuffed and throbbing inside you, trying to coax his rightful release. “Cum inside me, Tae. Please, fill me up.”

Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice when his cock worked a few more rough strokes into your tightened pussy and finally, finally came inside you. It was laced with a satisfied groan of your name, his grip on your side so intense you’d be glad if he left marks, wanting to remember every last bit of this night with Taehyung.

He painted you completely white inside, spilling everything he could offer into you, using what little strength he had left to hold you up while he continued to empty his seed inside. Taehyung then lost all function and allowed you to fall, his broad body resting on top of yours as you both hit the mattress.

Your chests rose and fell shallowly, completely taxed and having lost every ounce of strength. Taehyung’s hot breaths for air were fanning your neck, your arms sprawled out before you as Taehyung’s hands mindlessly interlaced with them against the tousled covers, cock still stuffing you whole.

It was another moment of breathing and regaining oxygen when Taehyung suddenly kissed the side of your neck, giving your hands a small squeeze before you felt him lifting himself, his warmth disappearing and you panicked.

“Where are you going?” Your throat was hoarse from screaming and moaning, a tinge of sadness to your tone as though he was leaving you, and Taehyung couldn’t help but find it endearing.

“It’s okay, I’ll be right back.” He smiled, moving your hair from the side of your face to plant a kiss to your cheek, post-sex haze racking his brain though allowing reality to leak back into his mind.

He then carefully, slowly pulled himself out of you, you whining at the loss of him and Taehyung smiled to himself in contentment, smoothing over your lower back with a palm in gratitude, before stepping towards his bathroom.

He’d pulled his boxers back on and returned with a damp cloth, finding you still flipped and laying on your stomach, having dozed off in exhaustion until you felt Taehyung’s warmth and heard his dulcet voice hazing you awake.

“Y/N, turn over for me.” His voice was hushed and tender, you complying by turning onto your back with his help. He then carefully swept the cloth against your battered core, you wincing a little with sensitivity and Taehyung made sure to clean more gently.

The cloth was thrown back into his bathroom when he turned back to you, an arm thrown over your tear-stained face and the other clutching your body, clearly shivering in the cold now.

Taehyung easily scooped you into his arms and lifted you off the bed, carrying you over to his pillows and delicately placing you upon his duvet, pulling the covers out from underneath you and tucking you into his bed.

You curled up into his blanket, Taehyung searching through his drawers for a stray t-shirt you could wear. He then lifted you into a sitting position, your eyes evidently sleepy and body limp as he pulled the shirt onto you, letting you fall back in place.

Taehyung could only chuckle to himself thinking he did mean to ruin you, but not so harshly you were devoid of consciousness. He placed a little kiss to your forehead in apology, wiping some of the tears off your face before he rounded the bed, crawling in next to you.

His arms reached out to pull your back snug against his chest, feeling the sleep in the back of his eyes take him. He basked in the strawberry scent of your hair, completely gratified until you suddenly turned over towards him.

His eyes shot open, only the top of your head coming into view as you nuzzled into his warm chest, your small self all tucked into Taehyung as he wrapped his arms around you like a safety net, holding you near.

And in that moment, all he could focus on was your light breathing, the sweet sound of your voice as you suddenly spoke in the dark of the night, moonlight glowing upon your entangled bodies.

“I love you, Taehyung.”

He grinned, the kind where he felt relieved, fulfilled, in a state of sheer bliss it was a moment before he replied, his own voice calm as you felt the hum through his chest, his hand tangled in your hair.

“I love you, Y/N.”

The morning sun bled into Taehyung’s room, your eyes fluttering open at a time you had no concept of. You stirred, finding yourself still in Taehyung’s arm, in relatively the same position from last night. You didn’t even feel like moving from his hold, the feeling so utterly fuzzy and comforting.

You basked in the sensation until he began to stir next to you, pretty eyelashes batting as his eyes fluttered open. His sights fell to you, eyes adorably taken by sleep while his soft hair was endearingly mussed by his pillow. You smiled at him warmly as he grinned back.

“Good morning.” you said shyly, nearly hiding underneath his covers.

“Good morning.”

You then flopped onto your back peering up at the ceiling, last night coming back to you in dream-like flashes you were surprised was somehow your reality.

It was just miraculous, utterly unbelievable until Taehyung turning into your side and snuggling his face into your neck was evidence everything was real, that he was real. It wasn’t some remnant of a dream or hallucination, but the real Taehyung as his arm draped over your stomach.

You had to bite your lip to contain your happiness, utter exuberance the universe had somehow finally paired you and him together, and funnily enough, on Christmas of all days.

“What are you thinking about, princess?” Taehyung hummed into your collarbone inquisitively, half asleep as he cuddled you.

You smiled, basking in his comfort. “Merry Christmas, Taehyung.”

Taehyung chuckled against you, arm pulling you closer to him as he kissed your neck. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Can you believe we met each other again during Christmas? It’s like the perfect Christmas miracle.” You marveled in wonder, tracing your finger along Taehyung’s pretty hand on your stomach.

“I mean, you know what Andy Williams said..” He mused next to you, husky voice laden with sleep. “It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”

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

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stetervault · 3 years

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Hiii! Been delving into Steter now, in the year of our lord 2021, even though I never really did when I was active in the fandom years ago and I was wondering if you'd have some longfic recs for the ship? Like, fics that are Classics(TM)? But happy endings! And I'm not super into those in which Stiles is still underage 😬 do u have any recs? Thanks!

Welcome to the Steter fandom! I definitely have some long fics to rec, some of them are super old lol, and I'll stick to ones around 20k or over, and most of them are finished. And hmm, considering the ship, and a lot of fics like to start off in season 1 where Stiles is still technically a teenager, I'll try to limit these to ones with Stiles being at least 16/17 before anything starts happening, and only 18+ if there's explicit content. I hope that's okay.

drowning in the sea of you by Corpium

Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it's turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.

Wake Me Up by ToAStranger

Stiles has been in a coma for six years. Now he's awake.

Tremors by Corpium

(Stiles has a taste for him now. All Peter needs to do is wait.)

Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft

Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?

Bite Down by EclipseWing

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

as you are by veterization

Stiles runs straight into a tree and suddenly, things are... different. Namely, he's in a world where Peter Hale is his boyfriend.

Call My Name by KouriArashi

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Devil of Mercy by KouriArashi

Peter's heard people talk about what it felt like when they saw their mate for the first time, from those who actually believe in the mystical bullshit. Like a magnet, like gravity. Peter just feels... sharply curious.

Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby by taylorpotato

Peter is a simple saloon owner on one of the outer planets between the Aaru Belt and the Olympus Galaxy. He’s done with trouble. Done with adventure. So fucking done with rustlers. That is, until a cute young outlaw named Stiles wanders into his bar. Peter has this problem where he can’t seem to resist charming narcissists (perhaps because they remind him of himself). And when said narcissists turn his life upside-down, the worst part is he’s not even that upset about it.

Proposing To Strangers by moonstalker24

At the end of a strained relationship, crime novelist Stiles chooses to hide from the world inside a bar with far too many motorcycles outside it for comfort. Here he'll meet the man of his dreams, eat food and propose marriage, all within the first five minutes.

Peter doesn't know who this kid is, but he's cute and looks like he could use a break. So he feeds him. He's not expecting a marriage proposal, but with what comes after, he doesn't really mind.

Stiles Stilinski, Disaster Chef by Guede

The zombie apocalypse forces Stiles to learn how to cook.

The Will by Guede

We are gathered here today for the reading of Gerard Argent’s will.

On the Importance of Lunar Influences in Gardening by Guede

“Oh, it’s you again,” Stiles sighs. He puts down his basket and drops the bunch of onions into it, and then dusts off his hands. “Can’t you get your own strawberries? I mean, I have it on good authority that wild strawberries? They’re a thing. They exist. They’re out there.”

“But Stiles,” says the werewolf dangling by one foot from the tree, sticky red smears around his mouth and all over his fingers. “Your berries are so juicy, so ripe. Those ones in the woods are mere passing indulgences compared to the royal feast you have in your garden.”

Genii loci Stiles and his father run a community garden, and it’s all good, except for the werewolf who keeps sneaking over the fence to raid Stiles’ strawberry patch (and the hunter who’s constantly hanging around his father).

Runes and all kinds of things by FeelingsDusk (WIP)

Enough is enough. Stiles is tired of being always a last choice when he always tries to do his best for his precious people, so they better get their act together or face being left behind.

The things in the Argent's basement get nearly fatal, the Sheriff finds about the supernatural, Allison can have a wicked, wicked mind and Peter Hale appears to be everywhere.

Oh, and Stiles can't seem to stop breaking the laws of physics with his magic.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Out Of The East, Never See The Sun Rise by neglectedtuesday

In the beginning, there are three absolutes.

One. Stiles is a god, forged of starlight and collapsing galaxies and he is eternal.

Two. Peter is human, fragile bone and viscous blood and he is temporary.

Three. Stiles and Peter are in love; love that claws its way inside one’s heart like fish hooks; all encompassing love that is beautiful but dangerous.

Stiles is a god. Peter is human. They love each other.

Three absolutes.

You Had Me at Canapes by LadyArinn

Stiles doesn't mean to sneak into the Hale wedding, and he certainly doesn't mean to have cliche coat-room sex with the bride's uncle, but what had happened, happened, and it wasn't like he could just leave. At least, not until he got to have some of that cake.

Infinite Space by DiscontentedWinter

Stiles needs Peter's expertise to help stop the latest threat to Beacon Hills. And, as the pack falls apart around him, he might even need Peter for more than that.

Hook, Yarn, Sinker by pprfaith

Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter's just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.

Paths cross.

Open Wounds by Guede

Talia got out of the fire with Peter, but everyone else died. Years later, they’re still struggling with injuries, but they’ve at least settled in with oddball werewolf Stiles. And then other werewolves start showing up. Familiar ones.

Bittersweet Creek by Guede

When Stiles finally steps off the westward trail to California, he’s the last of his pack. He starts building a den, but then he finds a dying man next to a burnt-down house and it turns out he’s not really much of a settler, after all.

For Great Justice! by Green

Stiles is a vengeance demon, drawn to Peter just as he's waking from his catatonia.

"Whoever did this? We will make those fuckers suffer. I promise you."

Bone Deep by ShippersList

A body in the woods, a mate, and a long-awaited revenge.

Peter had no idea how his life would change when he followed the strange pull in his chest.

Love What is Behind You by KouriArashi

Basically what it says on the label. Hunger Games type fusion. Stiles doing way better than anyone anticipates. Peter finds him intriguing. Ruthless, devious assholes working together to ruin bad guys, as the Steter ship is meant to be.

Soothing the Burn by Therapeutic_Steter (WIP)

Peter is burnt out and breaking down. Stiles notices and offers him solace, along with the one thing he wants most: Pack.

Til Death by Bunnywest

“How long do we have to find him someone?” Stiles asks. “Two weeks,” says Derek, eyebrows pulling down even further. The fierceness of his expression tells Stiles just how concerned he is. “He marries, or he goes to the camps. And you know what your father told us,” Scott reminds her. The camps……aren’t camps. Peter either finds a wife, or he dies.

Ink Blossoms by Triangulum

"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.

"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.

"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."

"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."

Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.

"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.

"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.

After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)

It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.

After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.

love me lights out by veterization

Stiles and Peter get snowed in together. (Or: what happens when you accept phone calls from people you haven't spoken to in over five years.)

Uncle Peter Doesn't Date by Mellow (SweetCandy) (WIP)

“Oh don’t lie, you love it.” Peter purred and winked at his newest arm candy, who spluttered for a few seconds, before blushing like a 16 year old virgin. Considering how young he looked Laura wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually 16. “Shut up Peter!” Bambi squeaked, still flushing and averting Laura’s eyes. “Well, anyways, I’m,” ‘Bambi’. “Stiles. Stiles Stilinski, pleasure to meet you- again.” Stiles smiled sheepishly, obviously nervous. Stiles Stilinski. Definitely a stripper then.

Or: Laura was prepared for whatever piece of armcandy her uncle had decided to show up with, what she hadn't been prepared for was Stiles Stilinski...her uncle's boyfriend.

Under the Songbird’s Wing by mia6363

Captivity easily destroys the will of escape. It can break the fiercest of animal. It can strip the most regal man and woman down to nothing but animal needs.

Captivity can, if met with unwavering determination, shape a person into something unimaginable.

Stiles is sixteen when he's captured. Stiles's first thought is, "I won't die here."

Baby Whisperer by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

“What. Is that.”

Scott looked up at him, apprehensive.

“Her name’s Lily.”

Stiles stared at the fuzzy head peeking out of the papoose.

“Her. Her name. That is a real live human baby. Oh my God-”

“Actually I don’t know if she’s human?” Scott said with a confused frown. “Becca didn’t say.”

“Who the fuck is Becca?!”

Sacrificial Lamb by Bunnywest

The Alpha has a scruffy beard, unkempt hair and dazzling blue eyes. The scar on his face is raised, running down his cheek like a twisting, gnarled rope. Stiles knows that it came from the blade of Kate Argent herself, and that the Alpha got it fighting in the battle where Kate killed his lover, cutting his head clean from his neck, if the stories are to be believed.

The Alpha lets Stiles look his fill, before indicating that Stiles should take the other couch, and Stiles does so, his father’s words echoing in his ears. He can do this, can be pleasant and amenable. The lives of his people may depend on it. The Alpha spends long moments surveying him, before saying, “I like you, Stiles.”

You don’t know me, Stiles wants to blurt out, but he bites his tongue.

The Various Triumphs of Mischief Bilinski by Whispering_Sumire (WIP)

"Hello, Chris," sings a honeyed voice from behind.

Chris' attention snaps toward the intruder, his gun already out of its' holster and aimed at whoever it is — a boy, apparently, with braided russet hair, a red jacket, and wise eyes. He's wearing a gas mask, but Chris can tell by the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way sun-burnt sand swirls in his irises, that he's smiling.

Chris cocks his gun.

"You killed my father," he says.

"No offence, but he totally deserved it," the stranger agrees with cheerful solemnity.

"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Chris demands. The kid is perched on a windowsill in Chris' office, as nonchalantly as if this were something he did every day, as if they were familiar.

"I was just wondering," the kid speaks softly, fond amusement sewn through with a peculiar resignation, "how you'd feel about putting down some nazis?"

[Or: The one where Stiles goes back in time and subsequently fucks with everything.]

A Curious Magic by Triangulum

Overall, Stiles is very well-known in the supernatural community. It’d be hard not to be, not with how his reputation has grown like wildfire. He knows and is on good terms with nearly all the fae that reside in the preserve, the asrai that live deep in the lake, the Ito pack, the vampire couple that lives over in Beacon Valley (they buy an ethically-sourced food supply from Stiles), as well as almost every other supernatural entity in the area. But Talia Hale doesn’t like him, and a werewolf pack tends to do what their alpha tells them to.

So it’s a definite surprise when the wards at the edge of his property trip, the tingling down his spine telling him it’s a werewolf, the lack of burning sensation letting him know there’s no hostile intent. Stiles, in his office in the second floor turret, sets down the amulet he’s packing up for Marin and moves to the large window overlooking the front of his property. He’s expecting to see an Ito packmember, even though they nearly always call in advance, and is surprised to see a man that he recognizes as Talia’s brother, Peter.

Light in the Dark by cywscross

It still surprises Stiles sometimes, how easily he’s adapted. Seven months in a world filled with train tracks and soul-sucking fae, and it feels like he’s never known anything else.

Or, the one where diverting the Ghost Riders from Beacon Hills to prey on a different town only succeeded in setting them free.

Vengeance Looks Good On You, Sweetheart by cywscross

Just because Scott refuses to see the Argents for what they truly are - prejudiced serial killers sitting proudly on a mountain of innocent corpses - doesn't mean Stiles will. It's about time someone did something about the Argent Empire anyway, and what a coincidence - summer vacation is just around the corner.

Or, the one where Gerard Argent kidnapped the wrong fucking person to torture. Stiles has never subscribed to the policy of forgiving and forgetting anyway, not when razing the problem to the ground and salting the earth for good measure has always been a far better solution in the long run.

He doesn't expect to have company.

#rec list #teen wolf #steter #stiles stilinski #peter hale #fanfic rec #akielosrises #ask

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runtedfiction · 3 years

Text

nicer

day 1: facade @zelinkweek2021

ao3

* * *

Years later, when Link faces the castle’s crumbling walls, he thinks about the Princess.

* * *

The day King Rhoam announces this year’s Harvest Festival is also the day his subjects know they're doomed. Officially, it’s supposed to be a normal holiday. Unofficially, the language in the announcement—“the last celebration before the fight against Calamity Ganon”, “the last time the palace will be open to Castletown until the fight is over”—convinces everyone that they’re partying in the face of the apocalypse.

“They have no faith in me,” Zelda says, putting down her pen. “Ganon is brewing deep beneath the castle. Everyone knows it. Everyone knows I can’t stop it. This is their last chance to let loose before all hell breaks loose.”

Impa frowns and hands her the final page of raw Guardian data to clean. “You're too hard on yourself. You still have time.”

“I just have Mount Lanayru next week.” She focuses on the Silent Princess above her desk. It's wilting. “Do you think I’ll be wise enough? Maybe Hylia will smite me right then and there for being an idiot.”

“Princess!”

“I know, I know.”

* * *

They wrap up that afternoon’s study, an incredibly useful session in quantifying the powers of the Guardians, to get ready for the ball.

Zelda’s dress is her signature blue, but a bit more fluid and feminine than the one she normally wears. Made for dancing and a summer night.

“Collarbones,” Impa notes, and Zelda laughs. “A little off the shoulder as well! And the subtle constellation pattern in the tulle--how stunning!”

“Don’t act as if you didn’t design it.”

“Guilty.”

Impa’s dress, an even deeper blue, is similarly gorgeous. It’s long sleeved, form fitting, and silky.

“Impa, I just want to say—” Zelda pauses, looking at their reflections in the mirror. When will they ever look this nice again? “Thank you for being my friend.”

Impa' smiles. “Of course. And Princess—if I may.”

“Yes?”

“With all your talk of the world ending, of doom coming.” Her voice gets small. “Do you think it would be worth telling him?”

Zelda stiffens. She thinks of him somewhere in the castle, dressed in his best uniform, walking to find her.

She lies. “No.”

Three quiet, efficient raps sound against her door. Zelda’s heart lurches.

* * *

In the hot, overcrowded ballroom, she can’t stop wondering if he thinks she looks pretty.

There are important people here she needs to talk to: researchers from the Royal Ancient Tech Lab, religious leaders, captains of industry, and so on. She finds her father and tries to reach some common ground on the one night they aren’t preparing for Evil Incarnate. (She fails.) She should find the court poet and give him the dance he’s been writing about for the past month.

But all she wants is for Link to look at her.

He’s indeed in his best uniform. His gloves and boots are blindingly white; his collar sits high and stiff against his neck. He’s uncommonly handsome, and the uniform emphasizes it. When someone pulls him in to dance (technically he should be keeping watch, but that someone really insists), she hates the jealousy that blooms in her chest and takes the hand of the poet. When she twirls, when she makes conversation, when she curtsies--she tries to see it all from Link’s perspective, if he can even find her in the crowd.

“Princess, are you feeling alright?”

“Oh.”

The poet looks at her in the way that a puppy looks at its master. The neediness satisfies and repulses her.

“Yes,” she says, smiling quickly. “Thank you for asking. How are you?”

“Wonderful. I was sitting in the courtyard the other day and...”

It’s easy to tune him out and appear to be interested with the right amount of “mhmm” and “oh?” and eye contact. But every time he twirls her around, she tries to spot the top of a Royal Guard cap in the crowd.

She knows she’s being stupid. Even in the incredibly unlikely scenario where Link’s interested, what could they do? Given that her powers aren’t working, there’s only a sixty percent chance they’ll get through the Calamity. She thinks back to what Impa said earlier. Something about letting him know in the face of impending doom.

(Maybe it doesn’t make sense to do something that would possibly be useless, a tiny voice in the back of her head says. But on the flip side, it’s also possible that nothing will matter soon, so why not tell him?)

She scowls and lets the poet dip her far too low for common courtesy.

* * *

Link is definitely lost in the crowd now. The next song requires that they rotate between multiple partners, and she can’t spot him anywhere. There’s no way that he’d be looking at her anyway, because why would he? He’s the chosen one, kind and strong and handsome and blessed. She’s the failed reincarnation, mean and headstrong and cursed.

If (when) the world ends, it’ll be on her.

Zelda admits to herself, swaying in the arms of someone else who doesn’t matter, that because the world has an uncomfortably high probability of ending, it follows that maybe, possibly, probably it makes sense for her to say something.

A sense of urgency unfurls in the pit of her stomach. Where is he?

* * *

She tries to find him. She doesn’t know what she’d do--ask for a dance? Strike up a conversation? Maybe it's the heat getting to her, but it worries her that she's lost him. She walks the length of the ballroom and comes up with nothing.

There’s no way she could summon him, but…

She grabs a glass of water and walks out the ballroom to the nearest balcony.

Except in this very specific circumstance, it’s infuriating how easy it is for him to find her. Even when she doesn't want to be found, even when she’s actively running away (and nearly dying in the process), there he is. The knowledge that he’s almost always aware of her presence burns.

“Hello,” she says after a respectable amount of time.

He steps out behind her. Unfortunately, the moonlight’s softness makes him look angelic. “Hi.”

Zelda very rarely has no plan. She’s the one always bossing him around, deciding where they’ll go next and how they’ll get there and what they’ll do. She’s at a loss for words right now.

“Ah--hm.” A cooling night breeze passes by. “Are you--are you enjoying the festival?”

“Yes?” He looks confused. And hot, her unhelpful brain adds. Very hot. “Are you?”

“Yes. It’s quite warm inside, but I enjoy the music and the dancing.”

“The band is nice.”

She agrees and scrambles to find another conversation topic. Damn it. Still no plan. Think, think.

“Uh--” he starts the same time she asks, “Are you ready for Mount Lanayru next week?”

He nods, and she hates how she made the conversation about work. But he looks more confident now--talking about work is easier than trying to have whatever kind of conversation she had in mind. “Yeah. I read about the region and it seems relatively safe. We might see Naydra too.”

“That would be incredible,” she says. “I’d love to capture it on the Slate.”

He nods again. A silence passes (a horribly awkward one that eats at her) before she asks: “What were you going to say before I interrupted you?”

“Oh yes.” Link clears his throat, and the fact that he looks a bit nervous sends her heart pounding. Can he tell what her subconscious is trying to do? “I’ve been meaning to ask (oh God, oh God, what has he been meaning to ask)--are you avoiding me?”

She blinks. “What?”

He won’t make eye contact with her. Triforce of courage, my ass. “Are you avoiding me?”

“No?” She’s stunned. Avoiding? All she’s been doing for the past week is pining!

“But, I feel like.” He pauses to look at her briefly. Again, his nerves kick off her own. “Ever since we got back from the desert, you haven’t really talked to me.”

She needs to think. A week ago, what happened?

They were at the Kara Kara Bazaar, and she nearly died because she intentionally (stupidly) lost him. She relives the feeling of it now--the panic that came with facing certain death when she realized it wasn’t Link following her, but the Yiga, then the shock when he appeared out of thin air wielding the sword. His back, so strong and sure. His concern as he helped her get up afterwards.

How once she could process what happened, something kicked in her chest, and everything was so obvious so suddenly.

Then getting back from the desert, what did she do? She wrote a diary entry, spent a sleepless night deciding she had feelings for him that she didn’t want to name, and tried as hard as possible to conceal them. The pining was unbearable, and--oh. Looking at him made her face burn, so she turned away. She never knew what to say around him, so she chose to say nothing at all.

Perhaps she approached her yearning by offsetting it with its opposite.

They really haven’t spoken. Zelda shakes her head, and mentally kicks herself. How can someone like you back if you don’t even talk to them? “I promise, I’m not trying to avoid you.”

He furrows his brow a little. Cute. Unfair. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Ok. If you do--if you ever need more space, let me know.” He smiles a little. “I do have to follow you, but I can do it farther away or something.”

She smiles back. Please always follow me. “Thanks. No need.”

“Alright,” he says. He glances at her arms.“Do you want to go back inside? It’s a bit cold. You’re getting goosebumps.”

She didn’t even notice. An idea is forming in her mind, bright and hot and something that needs to rush out right now or she’s going to overthink it to death.

“Going back inside sounds good. When we do, would you--would you like to dance with me?”

The question leaves so quickly that she’s not too sure if he understood it. She holds her breath; she might throw up.

“Sure,” he says, and the disappointment that she expected to punch her gut doesn’t come; a flood of something wonderful washes over her instead. Sure is yes, her mind sings. “How about I find you before the last song? I’ve been doing a bad job of keeping watch.”

“Sure,” she echoes. Hopefully her excitement isn’t too obvious when she turns back and nearly runs into the ballroom.

* * *

When the band announces the last song of the night, Zelda lets go of the poet and steps back immediately.

“My Princess,” he says, and the normal repulsion she would feel turns into joy when she spots a navy blue cap making its way through the crowd. “I would be honored to have your final dance, if you would have me.”

“Another time,” she says, already turning to pick up her skirt and mosey her way through the last group of people separating her from a flash of sandy blonde hair. “Thank you though!”

She doesn’t wait for the poet’s response because the crowd is gone and Link is right in front of her, handsome and smiling slightly. Her heart is at a million miles a minute when she drops her skirt and steps forward to place her hand in his.

This isn’t like her. He must think she’s acting so strange. Either that, or it’s obvious just from looking at her what she’s thinking. It’s a frenzied array of thoughts, ranging from the obvious (handsome, handsome, smells so good?, handsome, kind eyes) and the embarrassing (The smallest, least repressed part of me has dreamed about this all week.)

The music starts and swells and she’s still dreaming. His hand on her back is firm. Thanks to the design of the dress, she can feel his glove pressing into her. She wonders if he can feel the heat of her skin.

“How are you doing?” he asks when they fall into a rhythm, and she smiles too fast, idiot, calm down.

“Great, how are you?”

“Good,” he says, and they spin. He smiles back. “Good to know you’re not avoiding me.”

“Of course not.” Stupid, you avoided him!

He dips her a perfectly appropriate amount.

She feels brave. It’s the adrenaline getting to her, because the rational part of her can’t stop (giddily) telling her that she’s dumb when she asks, “Why would you think that I'd avoid you?”

“Hm.” He looks away to consider the question. The tips of his eyelashes catch the chandelier light. “I thought that maybe last week was a bit too much.”

She thinks about how warm his hand was when he helped her get up after saving her life. “It wasn’t.”

“It’s ok if it was.”

“No, no, you’re too kind.”

Link clears his throat. “So you’re not avoiding me because I kept trying to follow you through the bazaar when you clearly didn’t want me to?”

She laughs. “No, it’s also incredibly stupid that I tried to lose you. Besides, what would’ve happened if you hadn’t?”

Link clears his throat.

She chooses to change the subject by asking an easy “What did you make for dinner tonight?” in an attempt to soak up the final minutes she has in his arms. He starts talking about mushroom risotto, and she can’t stop smiling.

* * *

At the end of the night, when he escorts her to her room, it’s late enough that silence is acceptable.

She’s decided that she needs to do something, but she doesn’t know what. A hug would be different, but too strange. I like you is simple, but too plain. Thinking about you makes my heart soft is embarrassing. I know I’ve been an incorrigible bitch but now my walls are down and I like you is too honest.

She turns around when they reach her doors.

“Tonight was fun,” she says.

He smiles. Zelda knows romance books don’t lie when her heart jumps at the sight of it. “It was.”

This is the moment. She takes a deep breath as quietly as she can. She has that nauseous feeling again. If nothing matters, tell him. Everyone knows the apocalypse is coming.

“Hey, listen,” he says right when she opens her mouth. He pauses to look at her. If she thought he looked nervous earlier when he asked her if she was avoiding him, it’s nothing compared to now. He does a visible gulp, and—

“I think I have feelings for you.”

She blinks. What?

“And I understand if you don’t feel the same way,” he continues, tense and fast, looking right at her, “especially in light of everything going on right now. But I just had to put that out there.”

What?!

She closes her eyes--what is happening right now--and when she opens them he’s still there. This isn’t a dream.

Holy fuck. “Really?”

He nods. “Really.”

“Huh,” she says. He beat her to it. “Huh.”

“Huh?”

She laughs. He beat her to it, and now all she has to do is the easiest thing in the world.

“I think I have feelings for you too,” she says. It’s so dark now she can’t see the blue of his eyes, but she can imagine it easily.

He’s surprised. “Really?”

“Really. In fact, I was meaning to tell you just now.”

“Really?”

She laughs. “Really.”

She smiles and takes his hand. He stiffens at first, then relaxes as she threads her fingers through his.

“Oh, actually, here, let me—” He lets go. Disappointment hits her briefly before she sees that he’s taking off his glove. Some of his scars are alabaster in the moonlight. He has so many.

(She wants to kiss all of them.)

His hand is warm and rough and lovely when he slips it back into hers.

“This feels nicer,” he says, and his voice is almost shy.

There are a million things she wants to say--what are we going to do if I end the world, what are we going to do if you save the world, how long have you known for, Hylia is going to smite both of us for being fools--but she settles on squeezing his hand instead. He squeezes back.

“Yes,” she agrees. Very gently, she cups his cheek with her other hand and leans in. He’s closed his eyes already. “Much nicer.”

#zelink week 2021 #zelink #zelink fanfiction

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thedeathdeelers · 3 years

Note

Listen I love accidental confessions. I’m a huge nerd for that trope. Btw this was inspired by a scene from Teen Wolf because it’s so Juke.

Luke walks into the studio to find Julie siting at the piano, humming to herself and scribbling in a notebook. He walks up to her and chooses to lean against the piano on her left side.

“Whatcha got there boss?” He nods towards the notebook. Julie clutches the notebook to her chest before he can catch a glimpse.

“Nothing” she says way too quickly. Luke raises an eyebrow at her before moving in closer.

“Come on, let me see! Is it a new song? Let’s work on it together!” Luke says bouncing on his heels. Julie shakes her head. There’s no way she’s letting Luke see this song. “Perfect Harmony” is way too personal.

“Boundaries.” is all Julie says and Luke pouts before sighing.

“Alright, Jules. Boundaries.” Luke gives her a sweet innocent smile and Julie smiles back thinking it’s the end of it. She sets the notebook back on the piano and that’s when Luke strikes. Julie is too quick for him though and she grabs the notebook before he can even reach it.

“Luke! Oh, my god you’re impossible.” Julie says exasperated. Luke holds his hands up in defense.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry.” He leans against the piano again, his hand tucked under his chin, and he smirks. His nose scrunches up cutely and he nods at her.

“But you love me though, we all know it.” Julie turns to look at him straight on and tries to keep a straight face.

“Hate you, more like.” Julie says a smile tugging against her lips.

Luke rises from his position against the piano to make his way behind her.

“Love.” He sing-songs gently into her ear before making his way to the other side of the piano, Julie’s right.

Julie turns towards Luke’s new position and silently sucks in a breath at how close Luke is now. His hand is tucked under his chin again and his smile is big and his eyes are gleaming with joy and something else that she can’t pinpoint, but has her feeling hopeful.

“Hate.” She sing-songs back, a smirk on her face. Luke mirrors her smirk before his face falls. He pulls his hand from under his chin and stares at her. Julie starts to panic wondering what she did wrong before Luke speaks, his voice just above a whisper.

“You love me.” It’s not a question and it has Julie’s cheeks turning a shade of pink. She gulps before slowly nodding. Luke is looking at her with a look in his eyes so ínstense and Julie can’t. She turns her head to avoid his gaze and all she can think is that she royally screwed up.

“Jules” Luke says so softly before gently tucking a finger under her chin to make her look at him.

She complies and manages the courage to look at him in the eyes again. It’s not long after that that the distance between them is closed and their lips meet for the first time. Luke pulls away first but not before giving her one last peck.

He smiles at her and gently caresses her cheek. “In case you didn’t know. I love you too.”

Julie smiles “Good. Cause I’d be concerned if you kissed all your friends like that.” Luke laughs before he smirks.

“Nah, just cute girls with a wrecking ball of talent, and a cloud of curls.” He reaches up to grab one of her curls and he smiles watching it spring back into its original place. Julie laughs and shakes her head.

“I swear I really do hate you sometimes.”

Luke shakes his head, a loving look in his eyes as he grabs her hand.

“Nah, boss. You love me.”

Julie squeezes his hand and looks at him dead in the eyes with all the passion and love she has for this boy.

“I love you, Luke Patterson.”

Luke brings their hands up to his lips and softly kisses Julie’s knuckles.

“And I love you, Julie Molina.”

hey

hello

this is so cute????

and also feels like something teenagers would do idk. very in-character

but yes i agree- accidental declarations of love are always excellent, although i’m a huuuuge sucker for the ones that happen in the middle of shouty argument regarding one or the other character’s safety!!!!! bruh!!!! that’s the shit

thank you for sharing 🥺

#jatp #juke #ask #this was lovely to read after a tough day ty 🥺♥️

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rigmarolling · 4 years

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Historical Holiday Traditions We Really Need To Bring Back

Here comes Santa Claus, and also a bunch of annual holiday Things we do to ensure he commits a truly boggling act of breaking and entering and leaves goods underneath the large plant in the living room.

Because I’ve always got a hankerin’ for the days of yore, here are some historical holiday traditions we really need to bring back:

1. Everything that happened on Saturnalia

Saturnalia was the ancient Roman winter festival held on December 25th--which is why we celebrate Christmas on that day and not on the day historians speculate Jesus was actually born, which was probably in the spring.

Saturnalia was bonkers. As the name suggests, it celebrated the god Saturn, who represented wealth and liberty and generally having a great time.

Above: Their party is way cooler than yours could ever hope to be.

During Saturnalia, masters would serve their slaves, because it was the one day during the year when everybody agreed that freedom for all is great, actually, let’s just do that. Everyone wore a coned hat called the pilleus to denote that they were all bros and equal, and also to disguise the fact that they hadn’t brushed their hair after partying hard all week, probably.

Gambling was allowed on Saturnalia, so all of Rome basically turned into ancient Vegas, complete with Caesar’s Palace, except with the actual Caesar and his palace because he was, you know. Alive.

The most famous part (besides getting drunk off your rocker) was gift-giving--usually gag gifts. Historians have records of people giving each other some truly impressive white elephant gifts for Saturnalia, including: a parrot, balls, toothpicks, a pig, one single sausage, spoons, and deliberately awful books of poetry.

Above: Me, except all the time.

Partygoers also crowned a King of Saturnalia, which was a predecessor to the King of Fools popular in medieval festivals. The king was basically the head idiot who delivered absurd commands to everyone there, like, “Sing naked!” or “run around screaming for an hour,” or “slap your butt cheeks real hard in front of your crush; DO IT, Brutus.”

Oh, wait. Everyone was already doing all that. Hell yes.

(Quick clarification: early celebrations of Saturnalia did feature human sacrifice, so let’s just leave that bit out and instead wear the pointy hats and sing naked, okay? Io Saturnalia, everybody.)

2. Leaving out treats for Sleipnir in the hopes of avoiding Odin’s complete disregard for your property

The whole “leave out cookies and milk for Santa” thing comes from a much older tradition of trying to appease old guys with white beards. In Norse mythology, Odin, who was sort of the head god but preferred to be on a perpetual road trip instead, took an annual nighttime ride through the winter sky called the Wild Hunt.

Above: The holidays, now with 300% more heavy metal.

Variations of the Wild Hunt story exist in a bunch of European folklore--in Odin’s case, he usually brought along a bunch of supernatural buddies, like spirits and other gods and Valkyries and ghost dogs, who, the Vikings said, you could hear howling and barking as the group approached (GOOD DOGGOS).

That was the thing, though; you never actually saw Odin’s hunt--you only heard it. And hearing it did not spark the same sense of childish glee you felt when you thought you heard Santa’s sleigh bells approaching as a kid--instead, the Vikings said, you should be afraid. Be VERY afraid.

Because Odin could be kind of a dick.

Odin was also known as the Allfather, and like any father, he hated asking for directions. GPS who? I’m the Allfather, I’m riding the same way I always ride.

And that was pretty much it: “I took this road last year and I’m taking it again this year.”

“But,” someone would pipe up from the back, “there are houses on the road now--we’re gonna run right into them. We could just take a different path; there’s actually a detour off the--”

“Nope,” Odin would say. “They know the rules. My road, my hunt, my rules. We’re going this way.”

So if you were unlucky enough to have built your house along one of Odin’s favorite road trip sky-ways, he wouldn’t just plow right past you.

He would burn your entire house down--and your family along with it.

Kids playing in the yard? Torch ‘em; they should have known better. Grandma knitting while she waits for her gingerbread Einherjar to finish baking? Sucks to be her; my road, my rules, my beard, I’m the Allfather, bitch.

Above: Santa, but so much worse.

To be fair to Odin, he could be a cool guy sometimes. He just turned into any dad when he was on a road trip and wanted to MAKE GOOD TIME, DAMN IT, I AM NOT STOPPING; YOU SHOULD HAVE PEED BEFORE WE LEFT.

To ensure they didn’t incur Odin’s road trip wrath, the Vikings had a few ways of smoothing things over with Dad.

They would leave Odin offerings on the road, like pieces of steel (??? okay ???) or bread for his dogs, or food for his giant, eight-legged horse, Sleipnir, because the only true way to a man’s heart is through his pet.

People would generally leave veggies and oats and other horse-y things out for Sleipnir, whose eight legs made him the fastest flying horse in the world and also made him the only horse to ever win Asgard’s coveted tap dancing championship.

(Side note: EIGHT legs...EIGHT tiny reindeer...eh? Eh? See how we got here? Thanks, nightmare horse!)

Above: An excellent prancer AND dancer.

And if Odin was feeling particularly charitable and not in the mood for horrific acts of arson, children would also leave their shoes out for him--it was said that he’d put gifts in your boots to ring in a happy new year.

If all that didn’t work and the Vikings heard the hunt approaching, they would resort to throwing themselves on the ground and covering their heads while the massive party sped above them like a giant Halloween rager.

So this holiday season, leave your boots out for Odin and some carrots out for his giant spider horse or you and your entire family will die in a fiery inferno, the end.

3. Yule Logs

Speaking of Scandinavia, another Northern European winter solstice tradition was the yule log. Today, if you google “yule log,” something like this will pop up:

...which isn’t an actual log, but is instead log-shaped food that you shove into your mouth along with 500 other cakes at the same time because it’s CHRISTMAS, and I’m having ME TIME; so WHAT if I ate the whole jar of Nutella by myself, alone, in the dark at 3 am?

But that log cake is actually inspired by actual logs of yore that Celtic, Germanic, and Scandinavian peoples decorated with fragrant plants like holly, ivy, pinecones, and other Stuff That Smells Nice before tossing the log into the fire.

This served a few purposes:

It smelled nice, and Bath and Body Works scented candles hadn’t been invented yet.

It had religious and/or spiritual significance as a way to mark the winter solstice.

It was a symbolic way of ringing in the new year and kicking out the old.

Common belief held that the ashes of a yule log could ward off lightning strikes and bad energy.

Winter cold. Fire warm.

Everybody loves to watch things burn. (See: Odin.)

The yule log cakes we eat today got their start in 19th century Paris, when bakers thought it was a cute idea to resurrect an ancient pagan tradition in the form of a delicious dessert, and boy, howdy, were they right.

In any case, I’m 100% down with eating a chocolate yule log while burning an actual yule log in my backyard because everybody loves to watch things burn; winter cold, fire warm; and hnnnngggg pine tree smell hnnnnggg.

(Quick note: The word “yule” is the name of a traditional pagan winter festival, still celebrated culturally or religiously in modern pagan practice. It’s also another name for Odin. He had a bunch of other names, one of the most well-known being jólfaðr, which is Old Norse for “Yule father.” If you would like to royally piss him off, or if you are Loki, feel free to call him “Yule Daddy.”)

4. Upside down Christmas trees

I just found out that apparently, upside down Christmas trees are a hot new trend with HGTV types this year, so I guess this is one historical trend we did bring back, meaning it doesn’t really belong on this list, but I’m gonna talk about it, anyway.

Side note: Oh, my god, that BANNISTER. I NEED.

Historians aren’t actually sure where the inverted Christmas tree thing came from, but we know people were bringing home trees and then hanging them upside down in the living room as early as the 7th century. We have a couple theories as to why people turned trees on their heads:

Logistically, it’s way easier to hang a giant pine tree from your rafters upside down by its trunk and roots. You just hoist that baby up there, wind some rope around the rafter and the trunk, and boom. Start decorating.

A Christian tradition says that one day in the 7th century, a Benedictine monk named Saint Boniface stumbled across a group of pagans worshipping an oak tree. So, instead of minding his own damn business, he cut the tree down and replaced it with a fir tree. While the pagans were like, “Dude, what the hell?” Boniface used the triangular shape of the fir tree to explain the concept of the holy trinity to the pagans. Some versions have him planting it right-side up, others having him displaying a fir tree upside down. Either way, it’s still a triangle that’s a solid but ultimately very rude way of explaining God. Word’s still out on whether anyone was converted or just rightly pissed off that this random guy strolled into their place of worship, chopped down their sacred tree, and plopped HIS tree down instead. Please do not do that this holiday season.

Eastern Europeans lay claim to the upside-down tree phenomenon with a tradition called podłazniczek in Poland--people hung the tree from the ceiling and decorated it with fruits and nuts and seeds and ribbons and other festive doodads.

(God, who lives in these houses? Look at that. That’s like a swanky version of Gaston’s hunting lodge. Where do I get one? Which enchanted castle do I have to stumble into to chill out in a Christmas living room like that?)

Today, at least in the West, upside-down trees are making a comeback because...I don’t know. Chip and Joanna Gaines said so.

Some folks say it’s a surefire way to keep your cats from clawing their way through the tree and then puking up fir needles for weeks afterward, which checks out for me.

5. Incredibly weird Victorian Christmas cards

So back in the 19th century, the Christmas card industry was really getting fired up. Victorians loved their mail, let me tell you. They loved sending it. They loved getting it. They loved writing it. They loved opening it. They loved those sexy wax seals you use to keep all that sweet, sweet mail inside that sizzling envelope. (Those things are incredibly sexy. Have you ever made a wax seal? Oh, man, it’s hot.)

The problem, though, was that while the Victorians arguably helped standardize many of the holiday traditions we know and love today (Christmas trees, caroling, Dickens everything, spending too much money, etc.) back in 1800-whenever, a lot of that Christmas symbolism was, um...still under construction. No one had really agreed on which visual holiday cues worked and which...didn’t.

Meaning everyone just kind of made up their own holiday symbols. Which resulted in monstrous aberrations like this card:

What the hell is that? A beet? Is that a beet? Or a turnip? Why is it...oh, God, why does it have a man’s head? Why does the man beet have insect claws?

What is it that he’s holding? A cookie? Cardboard? A terra cotta planter?

And then there’s this one:

“A Merry Christmas to you,” it says, while depicting a brutal frog murder/mugging.

What are you trying to tell me? Are you threatening me with this card? Is that it? Is this a threat? How the hell am I supposed to interpret this? “Merry Christmas, hide your money or you’re dead, you stupid bitch.”

Also, why is the dead frog naked? Did the other frog steal his clothes after the murder? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS?

Victorian holiday cards also doubled as early absurdist Internet memes, apparently, because how else do I explain this?

Is this some sort of tiny animal Santa? A mouse riding a lobster? Like, the mouse, I get. Mice are fine. Disney built an empire on a mouse. And look, he’s got a little list of things he’s presumably going to bring you: Peace, joy, health, happiness. (In French. Oh, wait, is that that Patton Oswalt rat?)

But a LOBSTER? What’s with the lobster? It’s basically a sea scorpion. Why in the name of all that is good and holy would you saddle up a LOBSTER? I hate it. I hate it so, so much. Just scurrying around the floor with more legs than are strictly necessary, smelling like the seafood section of Smith’s, snapping its giant claws.

This whole card is a health inspector’s worst nightmare. It really is.

I gotta say, though, I am a fan of this one:

Presumably, that polar bear is going in for a hug because nothing stamps out a polar bear’s innate desire to rip your face from your skull than candy canes and Coke and Christmas spirit.

This next one is actually fantastic, but for all the wrong reasons:

I know everyone overuses “same” these days but geez, LOOK at that kid. I can HEAR it. SAME.

If you’ve ever been in a shopping mall stuffed with kids, nothing sums it up better than this card. This is like the perverse version of those Anne Geddes portraits that were everywhere in the late 90s. “Make wee Jacob sit in the tea pot; everyone will--Jacob, STOP, look at Mommy; I said LOOK. AT. MOMMY--everyone will love it.”

Actually, you know what? Every other Christmas card is cancelled. This is the only card we will be using from now on. This is it.

Wait, no. We can also use this one:

Merry Christmas. Here’s a fuckin’...just a dead fuckin’ bird.

#victorian #listory #christmas #holidays #mythtory #norse mythology #odin

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eideticmemory · 4 years

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EVER SINCE NEW YORK III | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic.

PART 3! Read Part 2 here.

Soundtrack:

Hate U Btw - Rence.

Phases - Chase Atlantic.

Break From Toronto - PartyNextDoor.

Word Count: 4,647.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, drinking, substance use, a bit of angst.

Spring, Sophomore Year.

South Beach,

New York.

“C’mon,” Claire said, putting her hands on your shoulders. “Give me a smile.”

You frowned.

“Let me see that pretty, pretty smile, [y/n].”

You sighed, rolled your eyes and gave her a toothless grin.

“Okay, that’s about as fake as it gets, but it’ll do,” she shrugged. She began to load up her car, “Just keep it on when Matthew gets here.”

You groaned, “I just don’t understand why he’s coming. Or why he has to ride with us. I’m gonna kill him.”

“Whoa, black mamba, it’s a 30 minute drive — barely. You’ll survive.”

“Okay, first of all, I don’t appreciate the Kill Bill reference, and second of all, 30 minutes is the perfect amount of time for me to not only kill your little boyfriend, but bury the body too.”

“Matthew is not my boyfriend,” Claire shook her head. “He is, however, coming on this trip with us. And you’re gonna be nice.”

“Why grandma, what big teeth you have,” you mocked.

“Shut up,” she laughed, closing the trunk.

Matthew strode up to the car, smiling and announcing his presence, “Hey, hot mamas,” he said, putting his arm around Claire. “Ready to go?”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, smiling ear to ear. “Yep, [y/n] and I were just discussing cinema.”

“Oh! My favorite topic,” he beamed. “We can continue it on the way there.”

Matthew broke away to take his place in the car, sitting in the backseat. You glared at Claire, your arms crossed.

“What big nose and ears you have!” She exclaimed, laughing before she could get out the words.

“Oh, God, shut up!” You giggled. “Get in the car, let’s go.”

The way there, you spoke two words to Matthew: “yeah” and “okay.” Despite his best efforts to strike up a conversation, you dodged him at every turn. Just like he had been doing for the past 3 months. Since returning from Christmas break, there’s been no sex, no conversations, not even a dm. If your friends noticed, they weren’t saying anything, probably just grateful the two of you weren’t arguing. But you could feel his eyes on you, watching you from the backseat. All the way to South Beach.

The entire group — all 9 of you — arrived at the same time, admiring the beach house as you pulled up. Claire parked in the driveway, two cars pulling in behind you. You led everyone up to the entrance and used the designated key to unlock the door. Everyone oohed and ahhed at the place. It was spacious, large, decorated to perfection. Not that you expected anything less from your aunt.

“[y/n]! This place is amazing!” Claire beamed. “Holy shit.”

“And it’s all ours for the week,” you chuckled. “There’s 5 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, the kitchen’s through there, and the pool’s out back.”

“Pool?”

“Pool,” you nodded. “Rooms are upstairs, if you guys wanna get settled.”

Claire and you set up your room together, packing your clothes into the dressers and heading down to the living room. Everyone gathered, sitting on the couches. Claire sat beside Matthew, laying her head on his shoulder. John opened all the windows in the space, claiming that he was letting in some fresh air.

“So,” John sighed. “What to do? What to do?”

“It’s a mystery to me,” Matthew shrugged.

“Yeah, well,” One of your friends said, pulling a bag of weed out of her purse. “It’s not a mystery to me.”

You laughed, “Huh, I knew I had this lighter in my pocket for a reason.”

A joint was quickly packed and passed around the room. When it got to you, you flicked at your lighter, but the flame wouldn’t ignite. “What the fuck?” You grumbled.

“Here,” Matthew said, reaching over to you. You held the rolled item between your lips and allowed him to use his lighter, setting flame to the end of the joint. You held each other’s gaze as it happened, probably for a bit longer than needed.

“Thanks,” you whispered, breathlessly.

He leaned back and gave you a smirk. Combine that with the weed entering your system, and you could feel your heartbeat between your legs.

It was a long week.

Lots of alcohol, lots of weed, and lots of sexual tension. Most nights Claire went to bed at 3 in the morning, stumbling in happy and sighing as she fell asleep. She always kissed your cheek first. Everyday was a beach day, or if you all were too lazy to go down to the beach or into town, you hung out by the pool.

Claire thought it was ridiculous that you had bought and packed seven different bikinis, but she had to admit, every single one was cute. You found different hairstyles to wear each day, dolled yourself up in bikinis all different colors of the rainbow, swam until you were walking around soaked. And it was killing Matthew. It was so much fun!

Two days before you were meant to leave, you had on your floral bikini, and you were prepared to bake in the sun at the pool.

“Ow!” John exclaimed, raising his shades from his face. Him and the other guys sat poolside, playing a game of cards. “Damn, [y/n], you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Is that your subtle way of telling me you like my bikini, John?” You giggled.

“The bikini...the body...” he whispered. “Come over here!”

You rolled your eyes and walked over to the group, allowing John to pull you into his lap, “Be my good luck charm.” He smiled. Your crossed your legs over his and watched the game in front of you.

“What are you guys playing?” You asked. You accidentally made eye contact with Matthew, who was watching you and John like a hawk. His eyes flickered back and forth between his cards and you two endlessly.

“Gin!” John replied.

“What? I thought we were playing go fish?”

“Go fish? What the fuck are you? 12?” John laughed. You shook your head and kissed John’s cheek, “Be nice, dude. Go fish is fun.” You chuckled. You got up from his lap and went to join the girls in the pool, stepping into the water.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” Claire said.

The group of you mainly stayed by the edge, holding shot glasses and knocking back liquor. By your third glass, the vodka had run right through you and you had to pee. So, you excused yourself and went inside to use the bathroom. Approaching the door, you went to place your hand on the knob, but were stopped by a muffled sound coming from inside.

“What the hell?” You whispered, and stepped in. There you found a very red Matthew, panting, his eyes closed, his hand around his cock and jerking himself off quickly. He halted when you entered, and stared at you, his mouth open in shock.

“I-I-“ you stuttered, trying not to look at his dick. You left, and quickly closed the door behind you.

You went upstairs to your room, locked the door, leaned against the wall and reached down to touch yourself. It was completely unexpected, and so unlike you. But all these memories of Matthew touching you and fucking you came rushing back, and you had to get this nut off before you exploded. You applied pressure to your clit through your bikini, until you were squirming and whimpering, and you came. You swear you almost said Matthew’s name.

The next day, you wore your royal blue bikini. The top tied in the front in a loose bow, and the bottom was lined with gold trim. After a day out shopping, everyone wound up hanging out at the pool once again. You did back strokes in the water, letting the sun shine on your face.

“Oof,” you huffed, bumping into someone behind you. You opened your eyes and turned around, facing them.

“Watch where you’re going. You’re not the little mermaid,” Matthew scoffed.

“Shut up, Matthew,” you spit. “Could you be more of a jackass?”

“Actually yeah,” he nodded. “I could be.” He reached out, quickly undoing your bikini top and watching as your chest was exposed.

You yelped and held your boobs in your hands, “Ah! Matthew!”

“Nice,” he grinned, his gaze focused on your breasts. “Very nice.”

You glared at him as he swam away.

Later that night, Claire was putting on a pair of dangling earrings, and her hair was down over her shoulders, curled to perfection. “You sure you can’t come out, [y/n]?” She asked.

“I’m positive,” you murmured, sadly. “My ballet instructor deciding now was the perfect time to make an online quiz due. It’s gonna take me a while, I’m sorry.”

Claire frowned and sat across from you. Both of you were perched in the kitchen, sitting around the island counter. While everyone was dolled up and ready to go out, you sat in your wet bikini and an oversized shirt. “No, don’t apologize. But after spring break, we’re going to your instructor’s house and leaving a bag of crap on her porch.” Claire said.

You chuckled, “Real mature, Claire.”

“I’m gonna miss you,” she sighed. “And if you do finish in time, give me a call and I’ll run back to pick you up.”

You gave her a smile, “You got it. Now, go, go! Don’t worry about me. You guys have fun.”

Claire blew a kiss to you and rose to her feet, exiting the kitchen and joining the others in the living room. You continued to work on your laptop as they filed out of the house and closed the door behind them. You took a carton of ice cream from the fridge and ate from the pint, mindlessly clicking buttons to complete the quiz.

“Come for a swim with me.”

“Ah!” You jumped, hand clutching your chest. “What the fuck?”

“Come for a swim with me,” Matthew repeated, storming into the kitchen and over to you.

“What?”

“Come for a swim with me,” he grabbed your arm. “C’mon, c’mon.”

“Matthew, no!” But you let him drag you away, watching as he grabbed a bottle of rum off the counter. “I have work to do!”

“It’s due at 11:59,” he told you, leading you out to the pool. “So you have...” he checked his phone. “Well over two hours.”

“And I don’t want to spend any of that time with you.” You enunciated, yanking your arm from his grasp.

“Aw, man,” he sighed. “That sucks. I thought you would’ve wanted this.” He held up a metal object, and when you focused your eyes on it, you noticed it was your ballerina. The one he’d given you.

“Hey!” You exclaimed, lunging towards him and attempting to grab the item. “What are you doing with that? Give it here!” You jumped on him, reaching high and using all your might. But Matthew was tall, and holding it way above his head. He laughed at you, keeping the prize far from you.

“Tell me, why do you keep this with you? Must be important.” He teased. He stepped backwards, holding the ballerina up in the air.

“What the hell are you doing going through my stuff?” You shouted, following him.

“Needed leverage,” he shrugged. “You want it?” He removed his shirt. “Come get it.” He stepped into the pool, a loud splash erupting around his figure. But he kept your figurine above the surface.

“This is childish! Give it back, and leave me alone!” You marched up to the edge of the pool, hands balled up in fists at your side.

“Okay,” he shrugged. He walked up to you, the ballerina extended out for you to grasp. You reached out for it, and just before you could take it away from him, you were being pulled forward. Into the pool.

You fell in with a yelp, holding your gift against your chest. You squirmed around underwater until you forced your way to the surface, your jaw dropped and your hands quickly wiping at your eyes.

“What the fuck?” You shouted. You blindly placed your ballerina on land, taking care to make sure she didn’t get lost.

When you turned around, Matthew was right behind you. His eyes were focused in on your lips. His hands were steadily snaking around your waist. And before you could back away, he kissed you. Softly, slowly, holding you close.

“Stop,” you muttered. Another kiss.

“Stop what?” Another kiss. “I’m not doing anything.” You held his face in yours hands and let your lips work together in unison.

“Wait,” you pulled away. “We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” Matthew mumbled, kissing your neck. “We’re so good at it.”

“Claire...”

“Is not my girlfriend,” he stopped, and looked you in the eye. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“But she likes you.”

“I like...you.”

You gulped, “You don’t like me.”

“Says who?”

“Says me! You just like...my...my...goodies.”

He cackled, “You’re goodies? Well...they are good.”

“Shut up!” You rolled your eyes.

“They’re great actually,” Matthew gave you another kiss. “In fact...” A kiss. “I’d like to see some of those goodies right now if you don’t mind.” His hands slid under your shirt and pushed it up your hips, up your waist, until he was pulling it over your head. You were left in your blue bikini, and Matthew nearly drooled at the sight.

He leaned in and kissed your jaw. His lips trailed down to your collarbone, and then to your chest. He gropped your boobs in his hands and placed kisses on your sternum. He caught the string to your bikini top between his teeth, and took long strides away from you. All you could do was watch him, feel the fabric looseing on your body. When he took one finally step, the whole bow came undone and your boobs were exposed.

“Come here,” he whispered, looking intently at your chest. His voice drew you into him, and you let him pull you close and wrap his lips around your nipple.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned. He was so, so good at this. He used the right amount of pressure and suction. His tongue twirled around the bud and his saliva dripped onto your skin. Soft hums vibrated against your chest, and his hand made it’s way between your legs.

“Your tits are so nice,” he whispered.

You looked down at him, then at your boobs. “They’re tiny.”

“They’re perfect,” he transitioned to sucking on the other nipple, and his fingertips rubbed your clit lightly.

When he kissed your lips, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held his body against yours. Your legs latched onto his torso, and he took this as an invitation to push you against the pool wall. On instinct — horny, horny instinct — the both of you reached down and touched each other. You freed his cock from his swim trunks and he pulled your bikini bottoms to the side.

Staring into your eyes, Matthew pushed into you. Slowly at first, and then slamming the rest of the way in. You gasped, and your head rolled back, along with your eyes.

“Fuck,” he cupped your hand in his hands. “You’re so hot.”

He kissed your neck as he fucked you, rhythmically and roughly. The water splashed against your skin, the sound overlapping with your quiet moans. You gripped onto Matthew’s hair, and reveled in the sound of his groans in your ear.

You bit down on your lip, muffling your whines. Matthew took your jaw in his hand and tilted your head down to kiss you. You panted against his lips, whimpering as he your back tapped the wall behind you.

“How long you think we got until they get back?” He mumbled.

You chuckled under your breath, “If my memory is correct, you’re not gonna last that long anyways.”

“Oooooouch!” He exclaimed, suddenly cut off by a breathy moan. He buried his face in your neck, “Not this time, princess. Not this time.”

While you guys were preoccupied outside, the front door to the house opened up. “[y/n]!” Claire sang. “I know you said to leave you alone, but I passed that ice cream place you like and I brought you some. Gube too.” She giggled, walking through the house. “I also — maybe, definitely — wanted to see if you two were ready to come out. Come on, we’re eating at this cute little Mexican place down the street, you should —“

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, Matthew’s fingers pressed against your clit and rubbing in gentle circles.

“Mm, you gonna come?” Matthew purred. “Wow, I’m good.”

“S-shut up,” you stuttered. “Fuck. Fuck, keep going.”

Claire stood in shock, watching from inside and peering through the glass door. She stumbled back into the kitchen, placing the bag of ice cream on the counter. She blinked away the tears in her eyes, and gulped. And she left.

Clueless, you let your orgasm wash over you. Your body trembled, and Matthew pushed his cock all the way into you as you rode it out. The sensation sent ripples of pleasure throughout your body and you fell weakly against him. “Matthew,” you whimpered.

His eyes went wide, and he pushed your hair back. “You said my name.”

“Hm?”

“You said my name,” he repeated. “Say it again.”

His hips bucked into yours and he picked up his pace, his jaw dropping as he watched your face. His nails dug into your thighs, “C’mon please?” He begged.

You looked at him in a daze, tracing his collarbone with your finger and hooking it in his chain. “Matthew,” you whispered. And it was like you were saying it to yourself, convincing yourself this was real. “Matthew.”

The sound of your voice nearly sent him over the edge and he pulled out of you, huffing and puffing. “Wait,” you panted. “Wait, I want you to come.”

He chuckled, “We’ve got some time.”

And you guys made the most of it.

You fished your shirt out of the pool, grabbed your ballerina and headed inside. Once changed into new clothes, Matthew sat beside you as you finished your quiz. He didn’t quite understand how you could be quizzed on matters of ballet, and you didn’t quite feel like explaining so you kissed him to shut him up. Which subsequently led to you closing the laptop and letting him carry you upstairs. Not forgetting the rum.

You wound up on your bed, face down, ass up. Matthew held onto your hips, and pounded into you mercilessly until you were nothing but a puddle of moans. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, feel his body tensing up with each thrust, and you gripped onto the bed sheets tightly. Matthew upheld his promise to make the experience long and pleasure, making you come twice before he even came close. He reached down and slid his fingers into your mouth, which you sucked on willingly. He released himself onto your back, following it with a swift slap on your ass. He used his shirt to clean you off.

With a few more hits of alcohol, Matthew asked you to show him some ballet moves. So, you started with the basics. But when he attempted the movement, he nearly broke his ankle and fell to the floor. You broke out into hysterics.

“You’re druuuuuunk,” you sang, sinking down to the floor to join him.

“So are you!”

“But I can do ballet drunk,” you shrugged. “It’s a gift.”

“Hm,” he hummed, pulling you into his lap. “Wanna see what I can do drunk?”

Turns out, he couldn’t really do it that well, so you had to ride him. It was still good, and you let him come in your mouth. He was ecstatic.

Laying on the floor at 1 in the morning, you finished off the last of the rum and snuggled into Matthew’s side. “Got any gas?” He asked.

“No, I don’t have to burp.” You replied.

He laughed, “I meant weed, dumbass.”

“Weed? What the hell do you need weed for? Aren’t you drunk?”

“I’m...semi-drunk. You knocked most of that back yourself, Jack Daniels.”

“Okay, look, if you’re gonna call me nicknames, can you atleast pick one and stick with it?”

He sighed and shrugged, “Yeah. Which one’s your favorite?”

“None of them!”

“Well, pick one, princess!”

You thought for a moment, silent. “Princess,” you whispered.

“What?”

“Princess is my favorite.”

He smiled at you, but you weren’t looking. “Okay. You got it.”

“Hey, Matthew?” you called, sitting up and looking down at him. He was shirtless, laid out with his necklace glimmering against his skin.

“What’s up?” He replied.

You picked at the carpet as you spoke, “Why...why did you stay tonight?”

“Huh?” He tilted his head.

“Why did you stay tonight?” You repeated. “Why didn’t you go out with everyone else?”

He looked at you, and licked his lips, like he was thinking up a response. “I—“ He was cut off by the sound of a car pulling up outside, doors being shut, loud chatter.

The two of you hopped up at lightning speed, fixing your clothes. You kicked the rum bottle under your bed and Matthew balled up his stained shirt. He rushed out of your bedroom and you stood there out of breath. As soon as you turned around, you heard running coming your way. You turned back to face the door, and there was Matthew, marching up to you. He grabbed your face in his hands and kissed you. It was a long kiss, a nice kiss.

He left without a word, and you crawled into bed with a smile on your face. Matthew made it into his bed before everyone came upstairs. You faced the wall, pretending to be asleep.

“Awwwwwwwwwwww!” Claire exclaimed as she barged into the room. “Look at little [y/n]!”

“Claire,” your friend whispered. “Shh, you’re gonna wake her up.”

“[y/n]’s my best friend, y’know?”

“I know, honey.”

“I love her and...I just hope she loves me.”

“C’mon, let’s get you in bed.” Your friend helped the very drunk Claire into bed, removing Claire’s shoes then laying her down on the mattress and covering her up.

“Goodnight, [y/n]!” Claire shouted.

You stayed silent, clutching your ballerina figurine in your hand.

Sunday morning, it was time for all of you to leave and head back to school. You woke up early and applied makeup to cover the hickies on your neck. By the time everyone was up and packing, your stuff was already squared away in bags. You sat in the kitchen, eating pop tarts, and leaving everything the way your aunt asked. Everyone said hi to you as they passed the kitchen, and they eventually landed in the living room.

“Morning,” A voice called to you.

You turned to see Matthew standing there, smiling at you. “Good morning,” you pipped. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a baby. You?”

“Also like an infant,” you nodded. “Ready to head to school?”

“Almost,” he whispered. He walked up to you and kissed you softly, his hand holding your jaw.

You sighed happily and pulled away. “Are you ready now?” You asked.

“Hm, not quite,” he shook his head.

He kissed you again, and put his hand on your thighs, dangerously close to your core. “Okay, dude,” you slapped his hand away. “Don’t get crazy. Everyone’s in the living room.”

“So?”

“So...we can’t do anything here.”

“Oh, yes,” he whispered against your lips. “We can. You’ve just gotta be quiet.”

You tried. Tried to be quiet. But Matthew had you sat on the island, shorts and panties pushed the side and his cock buried inside you. He had to cover your mouth with his hand as he thrusted into you. His teeth sunk into his lip, to the point blood was drawn. You could taste it. You tightened your legs around his waist, eyelid lowered in lust. He gave you a questioning nod, and you replied with a slight motion of your head to let him know you were good.

“[y/n]!” Claire called.

You and Matthew quickly broke apart. You hopped off the island, Matthew fixed his pants. You sat in the chair like nothing happened and Matthew left the room through the second exit. Claire came around the separate entrance.

“Hey,” she said. “Ready to go?”

You smiled, “I am now.”

The ride back to school was much shorter. Nothing but music filled the car, Claire being too hung over to talk. Upon arriving at school, Matthew walked the two of you up to your dorm room.

“Need me to help with your bags?” He asked.

“I’m fine,” Claire shrugged. “Talk to you later, Gube.”

“You alright?” He questioned her.

“Yeah. Hangover.” Claire sadly walked into the room, head hung low.

“She’s a lightweight,” you told Matthew. “She’ll be back to normal soon.”

“Right,” he nodded. “So. See ya.”

“See ya.”

Around midnight, he requested to add you on snapchat again. You accepted. His first snap to you was a selfie with one caption:

show me ur tits 🥴🥴

no 😠

please 🥺

You sighed, looked over at Claire who was fast asleep, and lifted your shirt over your chest. Took you five tries, but you took the perfect one. He opened it within 10 seconds. Then he was video chatting you.

“Hello?” you whispered.

“Where’s your face?”

“I took it off for the night. What do you want?”

“I wanna see you.”

“What? No! Go to bed.”

“You can come over. Please. Please. I’m begging.”

“I hear you begging,” you scoffed. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

“Yeah.”

“We have class tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

“And I’m tired.”

“Just come let me suck on your tits. Five minutes, no sex, I promise.”

Yeah, right.

You came back to your room — your panties stuffed in your pocket, your hair wild, your lips swollen, throat sore, walking a little funny. You got a good night’s sleep.

Life got easier when you started listening to your body. A lot better, a lot more orgasmic. For the next month, Matthew and you got it in, whenever. Wherever. If you crossed paths on the way to class, you often didn’t make it to the lecture. When out with friends, you’d end up in the bathroom, with you bent over the sink and Matthew holding onto your hips. When you looked up in the mirror, you could see his necklace bouncing against his chest, his head thrown back.

There was something about Matthew that made you unbelievably horny and weak and impulsive. A very dangerous combination. Add that to the fact that he was admittedly not as annoying as you originally believed, and you were having a blast. However, you knew it was a means to an end. That summer would once again separate you two and there was a good chance he’d forget all about you.

When he came to say goodbye to Claire for summer break, you answered the door and had to tell him she left already.

“What?” He replied. “She didn’t tell me she was leaving.”

“Oh,” you hummed. “Um, do you want me to call her?”

“No, no. That’s alright,” he shook his head. “So...you leaving yet?”

“Nope. I leave tomorrow.”

“Cool,” he looked side to side, checking that no one was in the hallway. Then, he focused back on you and pressed his lips to yours. He pushed his way into the room and you let him, closing the door behind him.

Afterwards, he let you lay with his head on his chest, his arm around your waist. You knew it may not be forever. But it was now. And it was nice.

[PART 4.]

#mine #college!matthew #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler imagine #mgg #mgg smut #mgg imagine

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diyunho · 4 years

Text

The Joker x Reader - “Gotham Comic Con”

The Joker and his girlfriend decided to attend “Gotham Comic Con” this year dressed as The Batman and Cat Woman. It took Y/N some time to convince her boyfriend but here they are about to have fun and nothing could spoil the event. Right?...

“Oh my God, this is awesome!” you giggle entering the venue designated for the yearly special event “Gotham Comic-Con” dressed as Cat Woman.

The Joker is right behind you sporting The Batman outfit and he flexes his knees a few times, growling.

“What’s wrong?” you ask although you have a clue because J’s been complaining about since he got off the van parked on Lot B5.

“I hate these stretchy pants! I don’t know how that asshole does it!”

“You’re the one that insisted to come as Batsy,” you reveal point out the truth. “You could have been anyone else.”

“Like who?”

“Cinderella,” you elbow him and your boyfriend is not a huge fan of the concept.

“Why??!!”

“The drama, obviously,” you keep walking alongside him and he’s definitely ready to blow at your insinuation when you gasp. ”Baby, I think that’s Bane!” you gesture towards a massive individual flaunting a Sub-Zero costume.

“How can you tell?” The Joker squints his eyes and the bubbly Y/N has to say it:

“I would recognize his physique anywhere! Plus, he still has the scar between his eyes,” you pucker your lips and The King mumbles a bunch of PG 13 rated things regarding his business partner.

Why?

Last week they got into a brawling and almost killed each other.

The reason?

Y/N.

The Joker believes that Bane always flirts with you (which he does since he likes to refer to you as “a breath of fresh air”); stuff escalated until you had to break it up: J ended up with a busted lip, Bane with a cut between his eyes due to The Clown trying to stab him in the head and you ended up with an inflated ego.

“Hello Mister B.,” you tap the pile of muscles and he turns around to see who’s bothering him.

“Y/N!” he excitedly exclaims, immediately unhappy at the sight of his business partner. “Joker…” the low tone greets.

“Bane…” J sneers.

“What are you two doing here?” Bane inquires.

“Having fun; I finally convinced him we should do this and mingle for once. No better way to spend the day,” the bubbly comment pleases your conversation partner. “So we dressed up and here we are.”

“I must say you’re like a breath of fresh air,” Bane admires your skin tight costume and stilettos which prompts The Joker’s disapproval:

“If you want fresh air, go outside!”

“Make me!”

Oh no! Not again!

“Are you here alone?” you change the subject and distract them from getting into a fight. Not that you wouldn’t enjoy it, but… too many witnesses at the packed Comic Con, it could end up in a total disaster.

“With my niece and nephew. I lost them for a second and I’m searching the premises; they can’t be far,” Bane reports. “Which reminds me: I should get going and find them otherwise my sister will go ballistic. I’ll see you later, Y/N,” he acknowledges you and ignores your man.

“Bye Mister B.,” The Queen snickers at the evident teasing.

“Just her, huh?” The Joker grumbles. “What about me? Did you forget we have a meeting next week???”

“Too bad and super sad: I’m not talking to you!” Bane’s attitude emerges.

“I certainly could care less because I’m not talking to you either!” The King strikes back.

“Then what are we going to do?” Sub-Zero’s better judgement brings up a good argument.

“Y/N will translate!” J proudly states.

Oh no! Not again!

That means they will snarl and make weird noises and you’ll have to guess what it means; an absolutely excruciating task that even a breath of fresh air can’t accomplish without losing it.

Maybe you should let them kill each other.

“Fine!” Bane decides and distances himself from the couple while the Joker shouts since he has to have the last word:

“Fine!”

“Mister Batman?” the 5 years old dressed as a hobbit shily tugs on J’s cape.

“Hm?” the fake vigilante looks down. The little boy suddenly sneezes and wipes his nose with the fabric as the mad man is less than lenient at someone ruining the outfit replica he paid a fortune to have.

“Goddamn…” and he can’t finish his sentence because a large group of screaming children surround him in a heartbeat.

“Batman! Batman!” they jump up and down hyped up to see their hero.

“Go away!” J attempts to reason with the sea of kids he has no patience for. Of course nobody can hear him over the deafening sounds that attract more offsprings and parents.

“That’s so cute!” one of the moms gushes and takes a picture. “It’s delightful seeing a guy dressed as The Batman performing such a public service for our town!”

“He loves people, especially babies, “ you lie without blinking and immortalize the moment yourself.

“Awww,” a few people sigh touched by your praises.

“He must be a nice dude,” a kid’s dad concludes and you sweetly smile from under your mask:

“You have no idea.”

Somebody from the crowd places an infant girl in The Joker’s arms and the mob goes ballistic!! Rosie cheeks keeps sucking from her binky, glaring at the interesting person.

Clapping, cheering and whistling intensify whilst J feels compelled by his increasing popularity to lift the 6 months old above his head for everyone to see how cool he is.

This is not bad, The King enjoys an endless string of applause and the sudden explosion occurring in the diaper followed by quite a foul smell puts an end to his exuberance.

“Jesus!” he crinkles his nose, appalled. “Whose kid is this?” he yells and the thrilled parent waves at him, taking back the stinky, adorable bundle of joy. “Uncle Batsy needs to run!!” J makes up a random plan although nobody can hear him: the noise is overwhelming after he hyped them all up. “Let’s bail before they trap me again! Pretty soon I won’t be able to walk, Princess. Everything is crammed in there, a total mess! I hate stretchy pants!!” he addresses his woman and quickens the pace until an atrocious abomination stops him in his tracks.

A specimen mocking The Joker wearing a purple suit is getting quite the attention: over exaggerated red lips smudged over the lip line, tattoo on the forehead that spells “Cabbaged”, a bunch of cheap golden chains from the Dollar Store around his neck and a sloppy green wig complete the assemble in a cringy manner.

You are equally speechless and The Joker manages to utter:

“What… THE HELL… is that????!!!!”

“Ummm… a Clown?” your sassy remark doesn’t score high marks as expected; you feel his eyes burning holes through you.

“You’re hilarious! Would you like to share your standup comedy talents on the stage??!” his index finger points at the platform meant to host a guest appearance from Bruce Wayne in the next hour.

Courtesy of “Wayne Enterprise” sponsoring the event: free food and refreshments for everyone under 18 years old.

You don’t answer and pout, upset J’s pissed attitude is already ruining your mood.

“I’m going to kill that buffoon posing as me!” he inhales full of spite and reaches for the knife hidden in his left boot.

“You can’t…” you hesitantly halt his movement. “Dozens of people, that’s just asking for trouble!”

“I’m not going to let a prick disrespect me!”

“You won’t, we’ll figure something afterwards. We can wait for him outside in the parking lot and take care of it without drawing attention! Please?” you beg hoping he’ll listen to you. “Pleeeaaaase!!!!“ you insist, perfectly aware he’s about to commit murder regardless. “I have a bunch of VIP passes to take pictures with celebrities. You promised J!” you stomp your high heels, exasperated. “You promised we’ll have a fun date!!”

“Why do I have to take pics with celebrities?! I don’t like anybody!”

The look on Y/N’s face: sheer disappointment; most of her features are covered with the mask yet he can tell.

“But I like you so the most I’ll do is take a selfie with you!” The Joker makes amendments on his own terms.

The Queen sniffles, trying to bottle up her emotions and she can’t help it: she bursts up in tears at her boyfriend’s candor.

Oh no! Not again!

Why?

The King of Gotham says nice things maybe twice a year and each time you struggle not to cry but it’s impossible: how can one resist such charm?!

Your complete meltdown makes him roll his eyes while your shaky hand takes a picture of the royal duo.

“Ugghhh…” J’s grimace turns your attention towards him.

“What is it baby?” you wipe your tears with his cape.

He would probably criticize such affront still there’s a pressing issue taking precedent.

“Princess, these tights are making my legs numb. I can’t feel my crown jewelry anymore.”

“Huh?” you forget to weep, startled.

“Cursed stretchy pants! I think I won’t be able to have sex for a month!” The Joker stretches his feet, uncomfortable.

“What??!!!” you raise your voice, panicked. “A month???!!”

Hell no!

Y/N grabs The Joker’s right hand and starts dragging him after her, yelling:

“Out of the way! Out of the way, it’s an emergency!!” whilst everyone is wondering how can someone wearing those 7-inch stilettos can march so fast.

“Where are we going, Pumpkin?!” J is inquiring and you yank at his arm, alarmed.

“To the car!”

“Why?”

Y/N doesn’t have time for explanations: she basically flies across the parking lot to get to section B5, opens the van’s back door and shoves J inside. He lands on his abs as you relentlessly pull on his boots, accomplishing to take them off in record time. Then you heave at his tights, huffing a storm at the stiff garment:

“I’ll be damn if I’ll wait a month for a ride in Funky Town!”

A mother and her 11 years old son pass by and she covers his eyes, horrified at the indecency as she guides him throughout the maze of vehicles.

“There are children here!” the woman protests. “Get a room!”

Luckily, she wasn’t heard by The Clown and his girl because… victory! The stretchy pants are off, J only in his boxers now.

“How are you feeling?” you roll him and he exhales, assessing the damage succeeding Y/N swift actions.

“Not sure, same?... Sit on my lap,” J offers and you don’t need a second invitation.

“Well?” you hold in the anxiety reaching high levels under these dire circumstances.

“Dunno, kiss me and we’ll see.”

You kiss him and he purrs.

“Well?” you interrogate again.

“Kiss me again!” he orders and you put more passion into it since your future happiness depends on it. “Hmm…” J groans. “I believe things are improving.”

“Yeah?” Y/N is about to have another breakdown although J didn’t say sweet rubbish; it’s just that kind of occasion.

“U-hum!”

“Then… what do you say we go home and celebrate your recovery?” you whisper in his ear.

“What about Comic Con?”

“Screw it!” you hop off his knees. “I’ll drive, you focus on your convalescence, ok baby?”

“Ok,” The Joker agrees and begins to stride around the van as Bruce Wayne’s limousine happens to drive by, the billionaire preparing to attend the event he sponsored.

“Stop the car!” Bruce commands at the weird view in the distance: a man wearing a replica of his Batman suit-- helmet, mask, gloves, cape… but no pants or boots, the bottom part of his attire consisting solely of underwear. “Right when you think you saw it all…” he shakes his head in denial, oblivious about who the person is.

Mister Wayne should at least have some empathy for the man enduring those tights for as long as he could; it might not be a record, but who could ever beat the real Batman at wearing stretchy pants anyway?!

Also read: MASTERLIST

https://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

You can also follow me on Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.

#the joker x reader #the joker fanfiction #the joker imagine #the joker jared leto #the joker #joker #joker fanfiction #joker imagines #jokerleto #the joker suicide squad #joker suicide squad #mister j #mister joker #dc #dcu

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golbrocklovely · 4 years

Text

carnival ride // sam golbach

A/N: i haven't written a sam fic in quite sometime. this is all based off of a dream i had about him a while ago. yo highkey... that dream was hot as hell. anyway hope you enjoy this! also kat and sam aren't dating in this obviously

prompt: you go on a double date with sam. everything falls apart, and sam kind of enjoys it.

trigger warning: fluff, cursing, mentions of cheating

word count: 2043

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“...And we're finally here." Bradley, my date, stated as he pulled his car into a parking space.

“Oh wow, look at the Ferris Wheel!” I exclaimed, gazing up at it from the window.

“No way are we going on that.” He scoffed.

“What why?” I questioned.

Bradley rolled his eyes. “Because it's lame. The roller coasters are where it’s at. Every other ride is dumb.”

“I mean, yeah... I guess.” I murmured.

He unbuckled his seatbelt. “So, when is Sam supposed to get here with his date?”

“Um, I think that's them over there.” I pointed to a couple not too far from our car.

“Good. I did not want to wait for them.” He complained.

He got out of the car quickly, not even waiting for me or getting my door. I sighed, rolling my eyes as he strutted up to Sam and his date, Katy.

I was not excited about tonight. Bradley had been getting on my nerves this whole week. Bradley, when I first started talking to him, was really sweet and gentlemanly. Our first date was so beautiful and romantic, I honestly felt like I was in a movie. That was about three weeks ago. And since then... a whole new side of him has showed. He's inconsiderate about my feelings and never wants to do anything fun or outside of his normal. I literally had to beg him to come to this carnival with me, and the only reason I was able to make him come was because Sam asked him to.

And speaking of Sam, he was pissing me off too. Sam had been my friend for years and was one of the few people I trusted. He always had my back and was very honest with me.

Maybe too honest now.

Ever since he met Bradley, he has been telling me to end it with him, saying that he's just not my type. Sam likes to point out every time Bradley fucks up. But anytime Bradley comes around, Sam's ultra nice to him. I didn't quite understand it.

As I stepped towards the group, I noticed Sam had his hood up. Bradley continued to talk his ear off, not even noticing that I was next to him. Sam glanced at me, smirked to himself, and pulled his hood down.

I interjected. "Holy shit, your hair's brown."

Sam turned his attention to me, smiling. "Yeah. I felt like changing it up a bit."

I felt weird butterflies flutter in my stomach.

What? Why is this happening?

He looked... really good... with brown hair.

I shook my head, trying to relax myself.

Stop it Y/N! You're supposed to be angry at him.

I looked at Sam's date. I had heard Sam talk about her once before, and she seemed nice. She had beautiful blonde hair, striking green eyes, and was wearing a cute dress that looked great on her.

Lovely. I look like a baked potato next to her.

Sam followed my gaze. "Oh, I almost forgot to introduce you. Katy, this is Y/N. Y/N, Katy."

“Hey, nice to meet you.” I greeted.

Her eyes stayed focused on Bradley, barely leaving him to look at me. “Hi.”

Uhh…

“So, why don’t we go in there before it gets even more crowded?” Bradley suggested.

Sam nodded his head. “Sounds good to me.”

We coupled off and strolled into the carnival, grabbing our wristbands for the rides.

“Which one should we go on first?” I asked, looking around.

Katy chided. “Roller coaster. Duh.”

Bradley and Katy began walking towards the line. “You know how to pick them, Sam.”

“I guess I do.” Sam turned to me, a light smile on his lips. “Right, Y/N?”

I glared. “Sure.”

The line was short. Soon enough, we had jumped on the ride, Bradley sitting next to me tightly. Sam and Katy were in front of us. Sam looked back at me, gave me a thumbs up, and the ride began.

The twist and turns of the roller coaster made my stomach feel gross. Bradley screamed, pretty much in my ear, the whole time.

Let’s just say I was happy to get off of it.

“Oooh, why don’t we play some games next?” Sam mentioned, pointing at the row of booths.

“Yeah, you should win me a stuffed bear.” Katy rubbed Sam’s arm, skipping to the first one.

Sam snickered. “I’ll try my best, Katy.”

Bradley’s eyes landed on me, his mouth already pouting. “Do you want one?”

“Yeah, I would.” I muttered.

We walked up to the water shooting game. Sam sat down on a stool, Bradley sitting next to him. Katy lightly patted Sam’s shoulders, but her eyes followed Bradley’s form.

“You got this Bradley!” I cheered.

He shushed me. “I know I do.”

The game started, Sam’s water hitting the target immediately. The funnels started to fill up, Bradley only slightly behind Sam. The buzzer rang, Katy jumped up and down as Sam won.

The worker handed Sam a pink bear, and he handed it to Katy.

“Oh my God, thank you!” Katy sang, hugging Sam.

Sam embraced her. “You’re welcome.”

“Good job, Bradley.” I remarked happily.

“I’ll buy you a stupid bear later.” He grunted. “Let’s go do something else please.”

Katy pointed at the tilt-a-whirl. Her and Bradley ran off towards it, Sam staying next to me.

“What a shame Bradley sucks at aiming. Is he like that in other aspects?” Sam teased.

“Fuck off.” I hissed.

“Am I wrong?” Sam taunted, walking ahead and following them.

For another hour, we went on rides and slowly, everyone got on my last nerve. Bradley would shoot down any idea I would come up with. Sam would then reply with a snarky comment, or a side eye, or look at me while smirking, like everything Bradley said was a joke. And then Katy… was just being Katy since she literally hadn’t said anything to me since we got into the carnival.

After riding the log flume, I suggested the boat ride; the one that swings you back and forth and almost makes you do a 360.

“Really, Y/N?” Bradley groaned.

“What’s wrong about that ride?” I huffed.

Bradley retorted. “It’s made for little kids. It’s not worth it.”

Katy agreed. “Yeah, it’s totally for children. We should go ride the roller coaster again.”

“Of course, you would think it’s lame, Bradley.” Sam quipped. “But I don’t think it’s for kids. I’ll go on it with you.”

“I don’t think-” I started.

Bradley interrupted. “Well then, it’s settled. Katy and I will go on the roller coaster. You and Sam can ride the dumb boat ride thingy.”

“Sounds great. Why don’t we meet up at the hot dog stand afterwards?” Sam noted.

Bradley replied, linking arms with Katy. “Awesome. Let’s go.”

Before I could object, they had both ran off to the roller coaster. I turned to Sam, my blood pressure rising.

“Really Golbach?” I sneered.

Sam looked at me innocently. “What did I do?”

“Do you even like this ride, or are you just trying to torture me some more?” I inquired.

He gasped. “How have I been torturing you?”

I grumbled. “Just forget it.”

We got to the ride, getting in the boat quickly. I rolled my eyes as Sam sat directly next to me.

“This is gonna be fun.” Sam beamed.

I barked. “Bet.”

This was one of my favorite rides, and the moment it started, I wanted to get off. Sam just grinned next to me, yelling every time the boat got higher and higher. I crossed my arms, keeping my eyes in front of me.

This night blows.

The second the ride was over, I jumped off, walking into the carnival. I started to look for Katy and Bradley.

“Hey, wait up Y/N!” Sam called, chasing after me.

“Why? So you can ruin this night some more?” I accused angrily.

“What? What do you mean?” He puzzled, stopping me.

I shrugged his arm off, ranting. “Everything about this night has sucked royally. Bradley has been a dick the whole night, going against everything I’ve wanted to do. You just keep making comments at him that either he’s oblivious to or too stupid to realize are rude. And Katy keeps looking at him like he’s a steak dinner. I’m tired, my feet hurt, and I want to go home.”

“Maybe tonight sucked because you were with the wrong person.” Sam commented.

I queried. “What are you on about?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have come here with him. Maybe you should have come here with me.” Sam’s voice deepened.

I responded. “What are you-”

Suddenly Sam grabbed my waist, pushing me up against the side wall of one of the rides, pulling us away from the crowds. His body was pressed up against mine, a light gasp falling from my lips.

“You should have broken up with him a long time ago.” Sam uttered.

I stared into his eyes. “And what, date you?”

“Yeah, actually.” He deadpanned.

“Go fuck your-”

Sam slammed his lips onto mine, kissing me passionately. I couldn’t help my arms as they wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. He bit my lip, his tongue dancing with mine sensually. His hands gripped my waist harder, our bodies almost grinding together from the closeness.

I pushed him back harshly. “What the fuck Sam? We can’t be doing this.”

“Why?” He doubted.

“Um… we’re literally on a date with different people. Besides, I’m not into you.” I denied.

“You kiss people like that when you don’t like them? Interesting.” He smirked.

“Samuel.” I objected.

His hands fell back onto my waist. He bit his lips softly. “What?”

“What about Katy and Bradley?” I repeated.

“What about them?” He requested.

I argued. “We can’t do this to them. It’s rude.”

Sam pointed out. “First off, this is the only time I’ve gone out Katy. And we’ve barely talked to each other the whole night. Secondly, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but look up.”

I raised an eyebrow, looking up as Sam said. My eyes glanced at the Ferris wheel in front of us. My eyes fell on Katy and Bradley at the very top… making out.

“Nice.” I exhaled.

“I told you he was a douche from the very beginning.” Sam reminded.

I echoed. “That you did. Is that why you kissed me?”

“Kinda. But also, because I wanted to. For a while now.” He confessed.

“Really?” I mumbled.

“Isn’t it obvious? I wasn’t being nice to Bradley before for his benefit, or his riveting conversational skills.” Sam sassed.

I pouted. “He’s not that stupid.”

He answered. “You’d be surprised.”

I giggled lightly, pushing my hair back.

“That’s the first time you’ve smiled tonight.” He marveled sadly.

I paused, a blush forming on my cheeks.

Sam continued. “I’m sorry I was a dick to you. I wasn’t really trying to be rude to you, but more to Bradley.”

“You’re not really the rude type.” I admitted.

“I try not to be. But I can’t help being jealous of what I want.” He informed.

I stepped back. “You want me?”

He kissed my lips deeply, making me breathless.

He pulled away, whispering, “Badly.”

“Okay then… why don’t we go back to your place?” I asked, my arms wrapping around his neck.

“That’s very eager of you to say, especially since you’re not into me.” He dared.

I whined. “Sam…”

He laughed. “I’m kidding. We will go, but I think we need to go on one more ride.”

“What one?” I questioned.

He pulled me away from the wall, taking my hand and walking me towards a ride. “Being one of your good friends does have it’s benefits. I know what your actual favorite ride is. Not the Ferris wheel, not the boat ride, but… this one.”

Sam spun me around, placing me in front of my all-time favorite ride.

Musik Express.

It’s the ride that spins you in a circle, playing loud-ass music, and then stops the ride and reverses it. I’ve always loved this ride, ever since I was a kid.

I smiled brightly. “You remember me telling you this?!”

“Of course.” Sam chuckled, holding my hand. “So how about one more ride?”

#sam golbach #sam golbach one shot #sam golbach oneshot #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach fluff #sam golbach fic #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach fanfiction

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a-world-in-grey · 4 years

Text

Sunshine Never Stops (Clouds Get in the Way) au

Or another 3am idea (that I would love more if it came at a semi-decent hour) that is so unfairly cute.

@secret-engima and @swiftyue - to make up for the angst of my last post.

-Ardyn gets past the gate guards, wrapped in the illusion of a nameless Crownsguard. He wants to scoff at how easy it is - so much for the Lucians’ vaunted Wall.

-He walks through the celebrations. Inwardly he seethes. Oh how ignorant the masses are, praying to cruel gods and believing in false kings. It would be so simple to reach out with his power and twist. So simple to turn cheers and laughter into such deligtful screams of fear...

-He retrains himself. He is here for a purpose after all, and it wouldn’t do to give the game away before it even begins.

-From the center of Insomnia, the Citadel cuts a striking figure though the skyline. Ardyn admires the architecture, admires how it might look crushed to so many pieces...

-Hmm, perhaps he will spare the Citadel. It would be a shame to see such a beautiful structure laid to waste. Far better to keep it as a trophy, a symbol of all his brother’s power come to nothing.

-Yes, Ardyn likes that idea much better.

-But the sight of the Citadel, of the Royal family’s seat of power gives Ardyn an spark of inspiration, and he changes his itinerary on the spot.

-He has a job to do, but that doesn’t mean he can’t have a bit of fun first.

-And it would be so rude to visit without saying hello to the family.

-Once past security, ‘Mars Sapientia’ is ushered off to meet with the Marshal. Ardyn lets the illusion split from him, ‘Mars’ following his superiors while Ardyn strolls through the grounds without anyone paying him a second glance.

-Truly. Ardyn may have to adjust his estimation of the Crownsguard at this rate. And the young Immortal (ha!) Leonis was rumored to be the newest Marshal. Pity, Ardyn had such high expectations for the boy.

-Not just anyone could cut off Gilgamesh’s arm.

-“What are you doing?”

-Ardyn blinks. There is a child glaring up at him, though the baby fat rounding her face turns what is no doubt intended to be a fearsome glare into a frankly adorable pout.

-Red hair and blue eyes. Ah, this must be his newest niece.

-And a delightful opportunity.

-“I am enjoying the gardens, dear Princess.” He says, one hand removing his hat with a flourish as he bows. He wraps his power about the both of them, hiding them from anyone who might come looking.

-The Princess is decidedly unimpressed with him, judging by her scowl. She points to a nearby stone bench. “Sit.” She orders.

-Ardyn carefully does not snicker. He doubts his niece would appreciate it, and he can always rile her up later. “I appreciate the concern Your Highness, but I am perfectly alright standing.”

-The bench is in the sun after all. He may have his hat, but even so direct sunlight is a touch... warm for his tastes.

-The Princess frowns. Not in frustration, curiously enough, but in thought and Ardyn can almost see the gears turning in her little head.

-Ah. No, not see. Feel. His niece’s magic (sunshine-fire-warmth, the same odd twist to it that Ardyn knows so intimately yet so weak Ardyn only now can sense it) curls freely about her, unrestrained and conveying her concern for him quite clearly.

-A spark of triumph, and his niece grabs his hand. Ardyn lets the little girl pull him further into the gardens, further into shade, without so much as a request for Ardyn to follow.

-Demanding little thing.

-Naive too. Unaware of the danger she courts, as she pulls him further away from the well trodden paths.

-Oh how easy this will be.

-They round the corner of the path, coming to a small alcove shaded by trees and hidden from view by flowering bushes. And in the center, another bench.

-“Sit.”

-Ardyn laughs. His niece is stubborn. “Of course, Your Highness.” He can afford to indulge her.

-He sits, and the Princess hoists herself up beside him. Ardyn has but a moment to recognize the tiny flare of magic, the frown of concentration and intent on her face.

-He gently catches her wrists, halting golden wreathed hands before they can touch him. “It is rude to use magic on someone without permission, Your Highness.” He says sternly, meeting her gaze and trying to impress upon her just how serious he is. Honestly, has no one taught her this yet? He’s shocked she hasn’t hurt herself yet!

-This time the Princess does pout. But she drops her hands when he releases her, magic curling about in shame. Ah, so she has been told. “You’re hurt. Want to help.”

-Hurt?

-His niece nods as though Ardyn has spoke the thought aloud (Ardyn did not, he knows he did not) and reaches for him. Ardyn watches wih sharp eyes but her magic doesn’t ripple, so he allows pudgy fingers to poke his chest, directly over his heart.

-“Not right.” She says from her perch in his lap. “Cold. Everywhere, but worse here,” a second tap to his heart, and then she pokes his forehead, “and here.”

-Ardyn... is shocked as his niece sits back and glares at his chest, as though she can scare the problem into submission. (Perhaps when she is older, her glare will inspire fear. For now, it only inspires the desire to pinch her cheeks.)

-How interesting. His niece can apparently sense the Starscourge.

-His heart skips a beat. His niece tried to heal the Starscourge.

-Has she no survival instinct?!

-Ardyn wraps his arms around her and pulls her close, settling his chin atop her red hair (so like his) and breathing deep to settle the flare of panic seizing his chest. “Promise me you won’t try to heal this again, Little Sun,” he murmurs, “it’s very dangerous and it’ll make you very sick.”

-Small hands tighten on his shirt. “But you’re sick.”

-That isn’t a promise. “I am. I’ve been sick for a very long time. Promise me, Little Sun.”

-Sola leans back to glare at him. “Why haven’t the doctors helped!” She demands, righteous rage and indignation searing through her magic.

-Ardyn chuckles. “It’s not something that can be healed, Little Sun.”

-“Have they tried?”

-Ardyn opens his mouth - of course he tried, thousands he tried to save only to damn himself - and pauses.

-Has anyone in this day and age tried to cure the Starscourge?

-Ardyn... doesn’t know.

-“I’m going to find a cure.” Sola declares (and Ardyn knows he didn’t speak that aloud either- can his niece sense his emotions?). She looks up at him, blue eyes blazing with magic-will-promise, “And then I’ll heal you.”

-A beat. Then, “Please?”

-And Ardyn is so tempted to say yes, to accept the oath offered.

-But Sola’s magic is barely a fraction of what Ardyn’s was. He’ll not bind her to an oath she has no hope of keeping.

-“You care so much for someone you do not know, Little Sun.” He says instead.

-His niece frowns at him, geniunely puzzled. “You’re family.” She says. “Family helps each other.”

-Ardyn stills. “Little Sun,” he asks carefully, “how do you know that?”

-In every memory, only the Founder King was remembered by history. Nothing of Ardyn, not the Healer or the Adagium, so how does a toddler know what only Besithia had discovered after decades plundering royal tombs-

-Hands touch his face. “Look like me.” She says, and Ardyn can pick out the faint similarities beyond their coloring, “Feel like me.”

-“That does not mean I am not dangerous, Little Sun.” Ardyn warns, and he lets the illusion over his face fall. “That doesn’t mean I’m not a monster.”

-Face to face with the Starscourge, with a sight many have fled from in terror-

-Sola blinks. Prods his cheek. “Creepy.” She declares with a grin. Then the grin disappears for another glare. “Not a monster. Sick.”

-Arydn... doesn’t know how to respond. What can he say to such simple, fierce conviction?

-“You’re Uncle.” Sola says. “Trust you.”

-She does. She really does, and when was the last time anyone trusted him so intimately?

-“Come with me.” Ardyn says. “Let me teach you to heal, so one day you can keep your promise.”

-This will be his revenge. His niece will be his Heir, not Somnus’s.

-And as Sola’s face brightens with all the sunshine in the world, Ardyn vows he will not let the darkness in his veins take her light like it did his.

#Sunshine Never Stops (Clouds Get in the Way) au #Sunshine Never Stops au #ffxv #Sola Lucis Caelum #Ardyn Izunia #in which Ardyn meets a bby Sola #and the future takes two steps to the left #Or Sola eventually redeems the Accursed through the power of Stubborn and Cute #and yes #Sola fixes a good chunk of Niflheim too #Power of Stubborn and Cute #of course there is going to be ALL the angst for Regis Aulea Cor and Clarus #Or in other words #Regis is PISSED #and Niflheim is sCrEwEd

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catsafarithewriter · 4 years

Note

“It’s been a long time since I had a good sword fight. I’m hoping you’ll indulge and give me one.” I feel like baron would say this to a man who kidnaps Haru for force marriage. Like it would be how the cat bureau would meet this prince and the guy immediately wants hair as his wife so baron had to fight him to save her. It would be kind of cute. If that’s ok? And love your previous works I love how emotional and fluffy they are!!😍😍❤️❤️

A/N: This ficlet ended up being far more comical than you were probably expecting (if you want angst over the kidnapped-to-be-a-bride trope, check out YC’s latest story!) and thank you! Flattery gets you everywhere! (That’s how that saying goes, right?)

Haru didn’t have time for this.

Like, really, really didn’t have time.

She leant over the armrest of her newly acquired throne and scowled at the prince who had put her there. “You know, it would save us all a lot of time and trouble if you just returned me back to my world now.”

“But why would I do that,” the prince asked, “after all the effort I went to to attain such a lovely bride?”

“You should do that because this lovely bride has friends who aren’t afraid to kick even royal asses who kidnap people.”

“Kidnap is such a strong word…”

“Steal. Capture. Imprison. Trap. Which of these words do you prefer, Your Highness?” Really, Haru thought, Baron was beginning to rub off on her. Although the people he swept off his feet didn’t usually resort to kidnapping him to get his attention.

She supposed she was just that lucky.

“Oh, do not fret over your companions, my dear.” The prince smiled indulgently at her, as if she were a child in need of reassurance. “The palace is well guarded and highly secure. No one but who I allow will come anywhere near us–”

It was at that exact moment that the huge double doors leading into the throne room fell off their hinges, followed by a lot of smoke and coughing and barely-suppressed cussing that sounded suspiciously like Muta.

When the air cleared, the Bureau could be seen in the freshly-made opening.

The effect was somewhat ruined by Baron stomping out the smouldering hem of a stolen guard’s uniform. “Muta, next time please dial down the explosives,” he could be heard to mutter. “We want to create an entrance, not blow up the palace.”

“You take all the fun out of life,” Muta muttered back.

Haru looked to the prince and gave an unnecessarily smug smirk that was probably quite unbecoming of their possibly future queen. “You were saying?”

“Usually,” he amended. “Usually no one but who I allow is permitted…”

“Sure. Anyway, this has been a blast, but I’m already running behind schedule, so if we can wrap this up–” Haru rose to her feet, but found her wrist caught by the prince.

“Nothing’s been decided,” he said.

Haru slumped back into her throne. “Naturally.”

“Your Highness,” Baron called up to the raised dais. “It was a pleasure to help your kingdom out in our previous case, but it seems we may have mislaid a companion of ours in the leaving.” He bowed. “Miss Haru, I believe it’s time to head home.”

He looked up to meet Haru’s scowl. “You’re late,” she said.

“And you’re as stunning as always.”

She had to fight to keep the smile from twitching onto her lips. “You’re forgiven. Mostly.” She tilted her head, taking note of the stolen guard uniform that was only gently smouldering now. “And where did you get that disguise?”

“Oh, this?” He had the audacity to look surprised, as if only just noticing the cape. “Stealing into a palace is no simple task. We had to take some precautions.”

“You’re telling me you took the time for a wardrobe change before coming to rescue me?”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“ENOUGH!” cried the prince. He raised his head from where it had been dropped into his hands. “Could you two stop… flirting for long enough to take this seriously? Baron, I have selected your companion as the perfect partner to rule this kingdom alongside me, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me!”

“Are you sure?” Baron asked. “Because we took great pains to get this far and it would seem like a waste to just turn around and go home now. I even went to all the hassle of finding a good costume to get us this far with only minimal chaos.”

“Baron, just take him seriously and get this over and done with!” Haru called. “I have places to be!”

“Very well, Haru. As you wish.” Baron removed the stolen cape and hat, passing both across to Muta. “So, Your Highness, how do you wish to resolve this? A challenge of wits? Chess? Maybe a riddle or two…?”

“I challenge you,” the prince cried, “to a duel!”

Baron beamed. “Fantastic. It’s been a long time since I had a good sword fight. I’m hoping you’ll indulge and give me one.”

Any fallout from his, frankly-impressive, line delivery, if he did say so himself, was hindered when Haru called out, “What?” from the queen’s throne. “What about the fencing lesson you gave me yesterday?”

“That was practice!” he called back.

“I put you on your ass and you don’t consider that a decent sword fight?!”

“What I meant was– hang on.” Baron bowed to the prince and motioned to Haru. “Would you mind terribly if I just cleared this up–”

“I’ve challenged you to a fight to the death,” the prince protested.

“I’m not hearing a no. Trust me, this’ll only take a moment.” He dodged his opponent and ascended to the dais. “Haru–”

“I don’t have time for this, Baron,” she said.

“I know, but–”

“I have to pick up Kasumi from nursery in the next…” She checked her watch. Both clock hands were spinning rapidly. “…whenever the equivalent of 2pm is for this world.”

“I know–”

“I do not have time for you to show off in some grand toothpick fight.”

Baron looked crestfallen. “I’ll be quick.”

“Will you? Or will you get distracted with fancy footwork and showy moves?” She raised an eyebrow. “Look me in the eye and promise me you will keep this practical and…” she motioned vaguely to him, “non-Baron-y.”

“Non-Baron-y?” he echoed with a grin.

“Drama-llama-y.”

“That’s not a word either.”

“Oh, you know what I mean.” She prodded him in the chest. “If I am even a minute late in picking up Kasumi, I will hide all your tea for a month and tell your sister about that time you jumped out of the window.”

“Got it. No drama-llama antics. Just… one request.” He had to duck as the prince swung a sword at him. “Muta! Cane!” He caught his cane with practised ease and halted the prince’s second attack in time to look back to Haru. “Next time I give a striking one-liner, just let me have it.“

“Get me back to the human world on time and I’ll consider it.”

“Deal.” Baron dropped away and rolled down the steps. “Now, that was hardly sportsmanlike, Your Highness. Attacking your opponent while their back was turned.”

“Then stop flirting with my future wife!” the prince snapped back.

“Not your wife!” Haru shouted. She slumped back into her seat and watched the fight play out with a general air of grumpy impatience. Muta sidled up to her and offered her a slice of cake. She took it.

“And I suppose you’re going to tell me you managed to fit in a trip to the kitchens as well, before you decided to get me out of this nightmare,” she grumbled.

Muta shrugged and munched on the rest of the cake. “We figured you’d be handling this, and the easiest unguarded entrance was the kitchens. Did you know they’re making you a six-tiered cake for your wedding?”

“Oh joy,” Haru monotoned sarcastically. “It almost makes getting married tempting.”

“You should get yourself hitched more often. Weddings have all the best food.”

“Why don’t you get yourself married, and then you can choose the wedding food,” Haru retorted.

“Nah. You seem to have the market cornered on unwanted marriages anyway. If I just stick around with you, I’m sure to be invited to many more without having to raise a paw.” He finished the last of his cake. “Except for the whole, ya know, rescuing you business.”

“Charming.”

“Nice dress, by the way.”

“Fight me, peasant,” she muttered. She watched as Baron flipped over the prince and landed perfectly, giving Haru an imaginary tip of a hat as he did so. “Oh god, he’s showing off. I’m going to kill him.”

“And yer sound surprised?”

“No. Just annoyed.” She raised both hands to her mouth and shouted, “Get on with it!”

Baron nodded, but when he turned to block the prince’s oncoming attack, she could see he was talking. Probably delivering some witty comeback to whatever his opponent was throwing at him.

Haru groaned and slouched further into the throne. The many ruffles of her ridiculous dress bunched up at the improper posture and she had to flatten them down. There was no way she was going to be on time to pick up Hiromi’s daughter at this rate, and she had no idea how she was going to be able to explain it to her friend. Somehow ‘I got kidnapped to be the bride of another world’s prince’ just wouldn’t fly.

“It’s not his fault,” Muta said. “He was made to be dramatic and showy and that’s the guy you fell in love with.”

“Yeah, I suppose…” Haru looked sharply at Muta. “Wait, what?”

Muta smirked. “Do ya really want me to repeat that louder for everyone to hear, or do ya want to admit you heard it right the first time?”

Haru blushed. “The second one.”

“Good.” Muta grinned wider. “And it doesn’t help that he always gets worse like this when he has someone he wants to show off for.” He winked. “If ya get my drift.”

Haru stared and blushed further. “Hang on a minute.” She stood and cupped her hands to her mouth again. “Hey, Baron?” she bellowed.

Baron scooted to one side to smoothly avoid another attack. “Yes?”

“Do you love me?”

Baron’s attempt to parry fumbled, and the cane was knocked from his grasp.

“Ah-hah! Now I have you!”

Baron batted the sword away with his hand. “Shut up, I’m trying to talk here.What did you say, Haru?”

“ARE. YOU. IN. LOVE. WITH. ME?” Haru yelled across the throne room.

“Is this really the right time to ask?”

“Is that a no?”

“No! I mean–” Baron rolled away to avoid another attack. “Yes, I am in love with you, but could we discuss this over a cup of tea or something?! I’m kind of busy right now!”

“And I’m meant to be picking up Kasumi from nursery, and yet here we are!” Haru called back. She faltered. “Wait. So you do love me?”

“I have loved you for the past year, but thanks for noticing!”

“Well maybe if you made it a little clearer–”

“I thought I was making it clear!”

“Wistful looks do not make anything clear!”

“I’m sorry.Would you have preferred it in writing?”

“Maybe!”

The prince lowered his sword and threw a reproaching look at the two. “Look, could you please delay your declarations of love until after the fight?”

“No!” both retorted.

The prince shrugged. “Fair enough,” he said and pushed on with another attack.

Baron rolled back and snatched up his cane to deflect the hit. “Haru, I’m sorry if my intentions were unnecessarily vague, but you have to understand I’m not wholly familiar with modern-day styles of courting! And I wasn’t sure if you returned my feelings!”

“Of course I’m in love with you, you idiot!”

Baron knocked the prince’s sword clean away and didn’t notice. “You are?”

“YES!”

“Oh.”

The prince muttered something very unprincely and dived for the dropped weapon and went to attack Baron again. Whatever Baron had to say in addition to his eloquent ‘oh’ was smothered by the clash of cane meeting sword.

“PAY. ATTENTION. TO ME!” screamed the prince.

“Oh, this is getting ridiculous.” Haru snatched the cake plate - sterling silver - off Muta, stalked across the room, and slammed it into the back of the prince’s head. He slumped to the ground like a sack of royally-dressed potatoes. “There!” she heaved. “Fight over. Can we go home now? I have appointments to keep.”

“Haru…”

“If I’m not there in time for Kasumi, Hiromi’s gonna have kittens. I promised her–”

“Haru! Do you love me?”

She leant in and kissed him on the cheek. “Oh, keep up with the programme, Baron. Of course I do.” She patted him on the same cheek. “But, if I’m late to picking up Kasumi, I’m still going to hide all your tea for a month,” she said.

Baron could only grin like a fool. “That was the deal.”

#the cat returns #tcr ficlet #cat writes #fanlovedlt #replies #the 'youre late' 'youre stunning' 'your forgiven' line i borroed from pretty woman #after seeing it on another incorrect quotes page #also the 'love confession screamed while in fighting' bit was inspired by #that one scene in pirates of the carribbean where elizabeth and will get married #and just generally howl and sophie's first meeting in the book version of HMC #which is mostly undignified screaming if i remember correctly #also i struggle with ficlets for two days #and then bust this out in two hours #my brain is erratic and unhelpful but it occasionally has its moments #also I guess this ficlet is TBF complient?#well more or less

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musical-nerd18 · 3 years

Text

Shower Thoughts, to Love, and Back Again

!! gift exchange for @sanderssidesgiftxchange posting time! mines for @anxious-cherryblossom who requested “ A fluff oneshot of LAMP, Analogical or Royality! The tooth-rottier the better”

Summery: Logan and Virgil are awake at 1am. Virgil handles this by throwing out some random thoughts and being sappy, it's cute, I'm bad at summaries.

read on AO3 HERE

there is very very minor of talk about death and blood but its like one line of dialogue each ashjadbawkjaa theres also a smidge of angst whoops its cleared up real quick tho

or! its under the read more!

“Hey, Logan?” When there was no response, the emo gently poked the man lying next to him on the shoulder. “Logan.” Still nothing, Virgil poked a little harder. “Logan. Babe.”

Finally, Logan stirred, “Virgil?” He turned to look at the emo, squinting his eyes a bit. “What are you doing up?”

“Logan. Okay, have you ever thought about how at the end of the day, we’re just brains trapped inside a meat suit?”

“...Virgil, I love you, but what the fuck? Where on earth did that come from?”

“I’m tired, Logan, what are you expecting from me.”

“Okay, well, Virgil, could you please tell your meat suit to go to bed, because it’s one in the goddamn morning, and I would like to go back to sleep.”

Virgil looked a bit sheepish, “Ok, so, I get that, but also, like, anxiety says fuck that so…” Logan sighed, sitting up, knowing he’d be unable to sleep until his boyfriend managed to calm himself. “Ever think about how if you live on a farm and take care of chickens for a living, how that makes you a chicken tender?”

“You’ve been spending far too much time with Remus.”

“You’re probably right, but also, like, have you seen his face when you tell him no? He looks like a kicked puppy or some shit, how can you say no to that face looking right at you? How, Logan?”

Logan sighed, gently shaking his head. “It wasn’t intended to be an insult toward either of you, simply just an observation. I’m well aware that you and Remus see each other as brothers, of sorts, and who am I to take that away from either of you?”

“Cool cool cool, also, humans are frozen.”

There was silence. “I’m sorry, dear, what?”

“Well, you have a liquid, ok? So if you take that liquid and change it into a solid, you do that by freezing it, right? So if you have a solid, it’s safe to assume that it’s at or below the freezing point, right? So it’s frozen.”

“Darling, I’m still so confused right now.”

“Humans are solid, and solids are frozen liquids, so humans are frozen.”

“What on Earth is going through your brain right now, Virgil?”

“So many things, Logan. So many things. So many things and almost none of them are good.”

“Almost?”

“You’re doing the cute head tilt thing you always do when you’re confused, it looks kinda like a confused kitten and it’s absolutely adorable and it lives in my head rent-free at all times every day.”

Logan blinked. “Virgil, thoughts and ideas and the like aren’t living, they cannot live anywhere, much less pay re-”

“And another thing! It’s super adorable when you always take things so literally, like, you understand some idioms, but like, when you’re tired you just. You just don’t understand? And that’s super adorable? It’s also a great indicator of when you need to sleep, which is also a great indicator of when we can cuddle that won’t have you leaving after a little? Also, it makes you do the cute head tilt thing and I just, god I love you.”

“I love you too, darling.” The two of them laid together, appreciating the other’s company for a moment. “Wait, Virgil, you said you couldn’t sleep because of your anxiety, but what about?”

“Asking if someone has slept on something is the human equivalent of asking if they turned it on and off again.”

“Wonderfully cursed, darling, but you're avoiding the question. What’s got you so worried?” Virgil cuddled into Logan, burying his face in Logan’s neck, whining quietly. “You’re being very adorable, but you’re still avoiding the question, love.”

Virgil whined slightly louder, before running out of air. He sucked in a large breath and “ItotallymighthaveacrushonPattonandRomanbutlikeIstillloveyouobviouslylikeyou’reamazingIloveyousomu-” he was cut off when Logan gently placed a finger over Virgil’s lips, a small smile on his face.

“One more time, darling. Just a little slower, if you will.”

Virgil took a deep breath, calming himself slightly, still speaking quickly, though Logan could understand. “I totally might have a crush on Patton and Roman but like, I still love you obviously, like you’re amazing I love you so much.”

Virgil watched as Logan fumbled around for a minute, in fear that he had said too much, that this was the final straw, that Logan would– “Ah-ha!”

“Ah-ha?”

“I was wondering where it went! Right, so, back to your confession, Virgil, I believe that the term that I was looking for was,” he shuffled through his newly gathered flashcards before flipping one out towards Virgil, “is ‘same’. Or would it be ‘mood’? One of the two of them at least, from my understanding they would both mean roughly the same thing in this situation.” The two of them made eye contact for a moment before Logan glanced away. “Although, perhaps it would have been a better idea to have simply said that I… am in the same metaphorical boat. I too have a crush on Patton and Roman, as well as still loving you dearly. I am somewhat sure that I informed you of my being polyamorous when we started dating, didn’t I?” Virgil managed a small nod, somewhat confused and overwhelmed. “I thought so. Since I am polyamorous, it would be quite hypocritical of me to break up with you, or something of the sort, so of course I would be completely alright with you having crushes on others, even if I didn’t also share those feelings, and I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“I… I mean, you are, but it’s still kinda cute? Also, I’m really confused? What’s happening?”

“What’s happening? Virgil, dear, I’m simply telling you that it is quite alright to have feelings for the others, as I am in the same metaphorical boat and share those feelings as well. In fact, there’s quite a high possibility that the others do, in fact, reciprocate those feelings. At least, they reciprocate them for you.”

“Wait, wait, wait, ok, ok, we have a couple things to address there, um. Let’s start with my gut reaction to hearing you mention that they may like me somehow, which is just: what the fuck? No. Wrong. No. No way. Uh, next thing: Logan, babe, why on earth wouldn’t they like you? You’re amazing, adorable, funny, witty, smart, wonderful, and more, I’m just tired and can’t english-” grabbing Logan’s shoulders and gently shaking him, Virgil continued, “-but you’re fucking amazing, and if they have any goddamn brain cells, they’d see that, and they’d love you, just like I do.”

Logan stood there, eyes wide, as he watched his boyfriend speak so passionately, being rocked back and forth as Virgil forgot he was still holding his shoulders. Virgil slowly stopped ranting, coming back to the present as he noticed his boyfriends eyes slowly begin to become teary.

“Babe? Oh, Logan, honey, why are you crying? Was it something I said? I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, or anything, oh god did I accidentally strike a nerve?”

Logan smiled, tears slowly falling from his eyes, “You didn’t do anything with an adverse effect, Virgil. In fact, you said what I needed to hear, even if I wasn’t aware that I needed to hear it. You know me, I don’t typically care for sentiments, but it is… nice. To hear those kinds of things, from someone that I ca-. No. Someone that I love. I tend to metaphorically fall into a rut, per say, where I can’t stop thinking about my shortcomings - Virgil, I love you, we don’t need to get into those right at this moment - but I get stuck thinking about them, and internalizing them to the point where they become so much of my personal identity, and hearing someone who I know logically will not lie about that sort of thing inform me that those perceived shortcomings are, in fact, falsehoods helps my brain, to logically understand that they are, and sometimes, that realization comes with a couple tears along the way. You didn’t do anything with any adverse effects, Virgil, I promise you.”

“You’re sure?”

Logan frowned, pulling Virgil into a close hug. “I’m absolutely positive, my dear. Just as I am certain about the existence of the stars above, I am certain that nothing that you have said to me today has had any negative effects, mentally or otherwise. I swear it.”

A little snicker, then, “You sound like Princey when you get sappy.”

“Falsehood. Though we all sound somewhat similar, due to us being parts of Thomas, we also do all sound different. I was not making an effort to impersonate Roman, so I still sounded like myself.”

“Babe, I meant, like, the grand gestures, flowery language, and shit, not your actual voice.”

“Oh. I see.”

“Yeah, anyway! Massive subject change! Nothing’s on fire, fire’s just on things.”

“Ah. Back to this, I see. You’re technically not wrong, I suppose.”

“A ton of people is just like… 10 people.”

“I believe it would be closer to anywhere between 12 and 15, based on average weights, yes.”

“Your stomach thinks all potatoes are mashed.”

“Horribly cursed, yet someone true. Stomachs don’t have brains, and therefore cannot think, but if they could, they likely would believe that.”

“When you brush your teeth, you’re cleaning your skeleton, and it’s the only time you ever do that.”

“A little fun fact for you, Virgil, your teeth? They aren’t actually bones.”

“I’m sorry, they’re not what?”

“Teeth contain collagen, when bones do not. Teeth are more similar, though not identical, to finger or toe nails, or even hair, due to the keratin contained in all of those, though it is in significantly lower levels within teeth.”

“Logan, I think that is, no contest, the worst thing I have ever heard anyone say. Ever. That’s worse then something Remus would say on a bad day. I hate the idea of teeth just… being hair. I hate that. I love you, but jesus Logan, what the actual flying fuck? You’ve sent me into a crisis, Logan, a crisis. About teeth.”

“As Roman would say, Virgil, you are usually experiencing some form of crisis, this is not a new phenomenon.”

“Roman would not say the word phenomenon, and would throw in a nickname, so that was not what he would say, that was the idea in your words.”

“I suppose that is true, yes. Would you like me to provide some more facts? I promise they won’t be teeth related.”

“I… sure? I’m still lowkey reeling, so go for it? I like hearing you talk. It’s nice. Soothing.”

“If you’re being this one, you must really be tired. Hm, let me think. Ah, yes, around 17 milliliters of human blood can function as an egg substitute when baking.”

“Why the absolute fuck is that a fact that humanity knows.”

“I honestly could not tell you. There’s a town in Norway where dying is illegal.”

“That’s a segway, what the fuck? How do you outlaw that?”

“I’d imagine that it is quite a difficult law to enforce. There are more bacteria living in a human's mouth than there are humans on Earth.”

“That’s… a lot of bacteria.”

“Approximately 50 billion would be considered a lot, yes.”

“What the fuck.”

“A quarter of your bones are located in your feet.”

“Okay! That’s enough of that for like… what time is it now?”

“I believe it’s 1:36.”

“Right! That’s enough horrible thoughts for 1:36 in the fucking morning, so it’s bedtime! Come cuddle me again and lets fucking go back to bed, holy shit.”

“Didn’t I mention that we should try that over half an hour ago, my dear?”

“Hey, Logan? Starshine? Love? Yeah, shut the fuck up. I love you, so fucking much, but shut the fuck up, and cuddle me. We’re sleeping, and you’re either turning off your alarm, or setting it for later, you’re cuddling me until I say we’re done, okay? Okay.”

“Alright, love.”

#i write i guess #ts anxiety #ts logan

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star-spangled-eyes · 4 years

Text

Winner Take All: Part 4: The Club

This alternate universe fan fiction uses characters created and owned by Pixelberry Studios. Character names, descriptions and likenesses are owned by Pixelberry Studios. The MC, Bragnae Bennett, and story is created and owned by this author.

Book: The Royal Romance (Alternate Universe)

Alternate Universe Theme: Senior Year of College for Drake, Leo, Bragnae and Madeleine in the United States

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC / Leo Reese x MC (Bragnae Bennett – *pronounced Brawn-yah)

Warnings for this series: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language, sex

Series Description: Bragnae Bennett sought adventure when she first went off to college. Now, navigating through her senior year, she finds herself befriending two gorgeous guys, Drake Walker and Leo Reese, who engage in a seemingly innocent bet with her during a game of pool that leads to a surprising threesome.

Their intimate evening prompts deeper feelings than they all expected to arise, and Bragnae is suddenly swept up in both of their charms, unique to each man himself. Through the pressures of college, work and maintaining a social life, which man will prevail and win Bragnae's heart?

Master List

A/N: Where my Leo stans at? Sheesh! This man right here? He’s hot. I love his rebel ass with a passion. Enjoy this!

Warnings for this chapter: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language

Word Count for this chapter: 5337 (I’m really trying to keep these under 4,000, but… Leo made me do it!)

Setting for this chapter: Bragnae meets Leo for an afternoon of self-defense training, and that’s not all!

Permatags: @burnsoslow @cora-nova @dcbbw @thorfosterlove @emceesynonymroll @edgiestwinter @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @msjr0119 @notoriouscs @drakewalker04 @pedudley @desiree-0816 @choices-lurker @kingliam2019 @loveellamae @drakexnadira @flutistbyday2020 @indiana-jr @moonlightgem7

Series Tags: @yukinagato2012 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @nomadics-stuff @ravenpuff02 @texaskitten30 @themadhatter1029 @randomfandomteacher @queenjilian @princessleac1

Part 4: The Club

Bragnae arrived at the quad on campus. It was a Saturday, so it wasn’t nearly as crowded as it usually was when classes were in session. Still, there were people hanging out on the lawn – some playing music, some kicking a soccer ball around, others reading. The sun was shining, and the weather was perfect – not too hot, not too cold.

Knowing she’d be doing some physical activity, Bragnae threw on a pair of grey spandex leggings and a purple sleeveless work out top. She put her hair up in a high ponytail, and lightly applied make-up to her face.

Looking around the quad, her eyes searched for Leo. She was both excited and nervous about seeing him again. After last night’s awkward moments with Drake, she was anticipating the same with Leo. Although, they didn’t seem to be uncomfortable around each other when he showed up at Mikey’s. It was more pleasant and flirty than anything else.

She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart when she spotted Leo leaning against a big oak tree with the bottom of his foot propped up against the trunk. His sandy blonde hair lightly gelled in a sexy but messy sort of way – his signature style.

He had his phone up to his ear, talking to someone as he looked off in the distance. Leo wore a plain grey t-shirt and light jeans that hung low on his hips. If he had a pack of smokes rolled up in his shirt sleeve he could even be considered a rebel without a cause. Even in such subtle clothes, Leo never lacked for attention. The build of his sculpted body and his pretty-boy face drew in eyes from every direction.

Bragnae headed towards him keeping her eyes trained on his face. She was about twenty feet away when he finally noticed her, doing a double take before a bright smile highlighted his face.

“I gotta go,” she heard him say, his eyes never leaving her, as he ended the call. Leo pocketed his phone and pushed himself off the trunk of the tree as she approached.

The fact that he abruptly ended his call to give his attention to her instead made her feel special. She smiled at him. “Hey, you.”

Leo, like Drake, was a friend to Bragnae. She’d known him almost as long as Drake, but got along with him all the same. He was cocky, funny and known for going rogue on many occasions, which Bragnae found thrilling. He didn’t care what people thought of him and always walked to the beat of his own drum. There was something so freeing about that. Bragnae didn’t consider herself that way, but when she was around Leo, she liked that he brought it out in her.

“Hey, yourself.” Leo met Bragnae halfway, surprising her by pulling her into a soft embrace.

Bragnae breathed in his delicious scent, fresh like the ocean and incredibly sensual. “God, you smell good.” She couldn’t help herself. She was that taken with it.

“Thanks. So do you.” He pulled back to look at her appreciatively. “Cute outfit. Ready to learn some self-defense?”

“You’re really into this, aren’t you?”

“Goddamn right. It’s important, Bragnae. Come on. Let’s go to a bigger clearing and away from the others.” Leo turned on his heel leading her to a spot with shade. He turned around to face her causing Bragnae to stop about five feet away from him.

A smirk appeared on his face as he began to beckon her with his finger. “Come here, you.” His voice was deep and soothing.

A little confused by his change in demeanor, Bragnae still did as he asked out of curiosity, walking towards him until he said to stop. Their chests nearly touched. She looked up at him as he slinked his hands around her waist, then let them curve to the back where he cupped her ass.

Bragnae drew in a sharp breath, surprised at how he was suddenly touching her. “Leo, what are you doing?”

He smiled as he gave her a little squeeze. “I’m a patron at Mikey’s. What are you gonna do about it?”

Oh, so this was part of his lesson. Feeling his hands on her was electrifying. She summoned a strong will to concentrate and answer his question. “I’m going to move your hands away.”

“So, do it.” His expression overflowed with confidence.

Bragnae immediately brought her elbows up between his arms and knocked them away before stepping back.

“Good. But I’m coming back for more. What are you going to do now?” He took a small step towards her.

“Uh, I’m going to… punch you in the face.” He took another step closer making her think quickly.

“Make a fist, let me see.”

She curled her fingers in tightly, her thumb resting on the knuckle of her middle finger. Leo’s eyes looked to her hand.

“Good. That’s how you want it. I’m getting closer. What are you going to do?”

As he advanced, she took steps back to keep the distance. “Leo, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Come on, ya big baby. Hit me. I can take it. In two seconds I’m going to grab you so you better decide quickly.” True to his word, Leo moved swiftly towards her. Just before he could overtake her, she cranked her arm back and connected her first with his jaw in a hard punch. Leo recoiled, a hand immediately coming to the place she just struck. “Goddamn.”

Her hands flew to her mouth, eyes wide with worry. “Ohmigod, Leo. Are you okay?”

He stretched his jaw out, rubbing a hand over his taut skin. “Not bad, Bragnae.” Leo waved to someone in the distance. “It’s okay!” He yelled. “I’m just teaching her self-defense.” He returned his attention to Bragnae. “How’s your hand?”

She shook it out. “It hurts.” He stepped up to her, lifting her hand to his face. Turning it gingerly with his, he inspected it. “What are you looking for?”

“Just trying to see if your knuckles are made of steel. That was one hell of a punch.” He took another second to playfully look over her hand before bringing it to his lips. Leo placed a soft kiss on her reddened knuckles, smiling as he watched her.

Grinning, she slowly withdrew her hand. “Thank you.” She raised a hand to brush over the spot where she punched him. Redness and some swelling was already evident. “God, I’m so sorry. Leo, I don’t think I can do this.” She dropped her hand and her face fell. “I can bring the sass all day, but when it comes to hitting someone… I just… can’t.”

“Why not? You just kicked my ass, and all I did was guide you through it. You did the rest. What are you afraid of?”

She sighed. “I guess I’m afraid if I hit them they’ll come back and it’ll be worse. I’d be helpless against them. I’m not strong enough to win a fight against a man.”

Compassion filled his eyes. “That may be true, but the quicker you react and show him you’re not fucking around, the better chance he’ll leave you alone. You’ve got one hell of a right hook, girl, and you weren’t even convinced I was going to do you harm. I’d bet you’d have even more force behind that strike if I was a real threat.”

She considered his words, nodding.

“Trust me, you come at a guy with a punch like that, and he’ll leave you alone. Those assholes don’t want to mess with a girl who’s going to be a hassle. They want easy targets that don’t or can’t fight back.” He moved closer to her, placing his hands on her waist. “If all you do is yell or say something sassy to them, they’re going to think they can do it again and get away with it.”

She knew he was right. It was already evident to her that some of the same creeps would return to Mikey’s trying to hit on her and touch her inappropriately.

“And if they think they can get away with slapping your ass,” he paused as his gaze deepened with a certain seriousness. “They might try to get away with more.”

Looking away, Bragnae swallowed, understanding the gravity of the situation.

Leo brought a hand up to lift her chin, encouraging her gaze again. “Look, I’m not trying to scare you, but this is something I see happening to the waitresses at the club I work at on a daily basis.” Leo worked at a hot club in town called Inferno as a bouncer, hence his desire to stay fit and buff.

“And Bragnae,” his eyes studying hers, “I don’t want to see that happen to you. I can’t be at Mikey’s every time you’re working, so I want you to feel confident enough to protect yourself. The fact that this sort of thing happens to you once a week is horse shit – especially at a pizza joint.”

“Yeah, I didn’t really expect that to happen there either, but when we get busy and the crowds pour in, it’s easy to do.”

“Just do what you did here today, and remember your goal is to defend yourself, and then get outta dodge. If they still won’t leave you alone, you go get help or call the police.”

She exhaled a deep breath. “Okay. Thank you. I appreciate you taking the time to go over this with me.”

He let go of her, taking a few steps back to give her space. “You don’t have to thank me. Just watch your ass out there because there’s plenty of guys already doing it.”

She scoffed a laugh. “I will.” A strong breeze flew by bringing a blue piece of paper from the quad in their direction. In an effort to keep litter off the ground, Bragnae ran a few steps chasing after the paper before bending down to pick it up.

“Jesus Christ,” Leo said suddenly.

Bragnae whipped up and looked around before finding his face. “What? What’s wrong?”

Leo’s face contorted as he tried to get out the words. “I… you’re,” he sighed. “Your ass looks really great in those pants. Just do me a favor and don’t bend over in front of me again, or I might have to do something about it.”

The corner of her mouth curled up. “Leo, you know you’re one of those guys you just described who’s looking at my ass.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but then closed it to think for another moment. Then he held up both index fingers to emphasize his point. “Yes, but I’m not going to disrespect you.” He smirked. “Unless you want me to. I mean, well, you know what I mean.” He chuckled at himself.

Bragnae put a hand on her hip with her head cocked and an eyebrow lifted. The sexual energy he was giving off made her feel flush, but she tried her best not to reveal it.

“Sorry Miss Sassy Pants. I can’t help it that you’re hot.” He grinned playfully. “I’m starving. Wanna get something to eat?”

“Sure.” She started walking and when she got close to Leo she gave him a playful shove on his arm. His very toned arm.

“Hey,” he laughed before straightening his stride to walk beside her again.

They strolled to a burger place near campus, and sat at a table outside to enjoy their lunch.

Leo tossed a French fry into his mouth and washed it down with some cola. “So, if you’re looking for something fun to do tonight, you could come to the club with me. I don’t have to work, but my buddy is DJing, and I told him I’d stop by.”

Bragnae was grateful for the mouthful of food to give her time to think about a response. She didn’t know if Leo was asking her on a date, or to go out as just a friend. He had casually asked her to join him at other places on several occasions before… before they had a threesome with Drake, and it sounded just like this. And the afternoon so far had been comfortable and normal. It was nothing compared to the awkward start of her night with Drake.

And the flirting and touching was not new either. He had playfully interacted with her like that many times. Being open about his attraction to her, but never pursuing anything. She briefly wondered why. Aside from a few nights ago when he suggested a very erotic end to the evening, nothing else had ever come up.

The state of her friendship or relationship with Drake was still up in the air. She had checked her phone on the walk over to the restaurant, but still didn’t have anything from Drake. So, she had no idea where they stood. He didn’t exactly tell her he wanted to be her boyfriend or that they would date only each other. None of that was discussed. Of course, she basically threw him out before any of that could be discussed.

If Leo did truly want this to be a date, then would it be wrong to agree to it? In the past, she had waited for immature boys to never make up their mind about wanting to date her, and wasted a lot of time doing it. When she left for college, another rule she put in place was to not let herself get caught up in the mind games that guys sometimes play. If they didn’t call her or actively pursue her, then she would move on.

If Drake wanted to take things slow, then that was fine, but what did that mean? How slow was his version of slow? And if Leo wanted to take her out and show her a good time, then she saw no harm in that. She knew she’d find out tonight what Leo’s true intentions were, and if she was being honest with herself, she was intrigued. She liked Leo a lot. He was fun to be around, and always kept her on her toes. Not to mention he was unbelievably attractive.

Swallowing her food, she smiled at him. “That actually sounds like a great time. I’m in.”

“You will not be disappointed.” He wiped his hands on a napkin. “I have some things to do between now and then, but what do you say I pick you up at your place around 9:00pm?”

“Sounds good. I’ll be ready.”

As soon as they finished their meal, Leo and Bragnae went their separate ways. She had a few hours before she’d see him again, which was perfect to get some laundry and other things done. One of those things was to call Drake.

Bragnae pulled up his number and pressed the call button. She sat down on the chair by her desk heaving a deep breath as the phone rang. She was a bit nervous, but knew she had to own up to her actions from the night before. The phone continued to ring until his voicemail sounded. Shoot.

His recording was too short to give her time to decide what kind of message she wanted to leave. Brief or detailed. So, she was forced to wing it.

“Hey, Drake, it’s Bragnae. I just wanted to call you to… let you know I was sorry about last night,” she pulled at the fabric of her pants absentmindedly as she continued. “I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. It was childish, and we should have at least finished the movie. Anyway, it’s been bothering me, and I just wanted you to know. I hope you had a good day at work. Talk to you later.”

She ended the call feeling satisfied with her message. Hoping Drake was just busy at work and not ignoring her, she put her phone on her desk and got on with her day.

Later on, she took another quick shower to freshen up. Bragnae stepped into a halter dress that was emerald green on the top with a black skirt falling down to her mid-thigh. It fit tightly, but had a stretchy fabric that allowed her to dance and move without too much restriction. From the stories Leo had told her, Inferno was known primarily as a place to dance and drink. She hadn’t been there yet, but she was looking forward to seeing what the fuss was all about.

She added some loose curls and a glitter hairspray to her hair for definition, and applied the smoky look to her eyes. Bragnae heard a knock at her bedroom door when Madeleine peeked her head in.

“Hey, Leo’s here.”

“Thanks, tell him I’ll be right out,” Bragnae told her as she spritzed perfume onto her wrists, chest and the back of her neck. She sat down on her bed slipping on her rhinestone encrusted strappy heels. Grabbing a small black clutch, she left her bedroom.

She spotted Leo standing in the living room watching whatever reality TV show Madeleine had on. He wore dark jeans and a steel blue button up shirt. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He stood with a hand in his front pocket as he leaned his weight to one side. Casual and cute.

“Hi, Leo,” she said. He turned around to face her, and she watched as his eyes focused on her – hard. They trailed the length of her body as an appreciative smirk crossed over his lips.

Blinking a few times, he shook his head. “Damn, girl. You’re gonna give me a heart attack.” He walked over, pulling her into a warm embrace. His wonderful scent filled her nostrils. “You look incredible,” he told her stepping back. His hand lifted hers in the air as he prompted her to twirl in a small circle. A low breathy whistle escaped him as she spun slowly. “Good choice, Bragnae.”

“Ready to go?” She asked with a confident smile. His compliments made her feel unstoppable.

He only nodded as his eyes still trained on her curves. Loving the attention from him, Bragnae turned and led them out of the apartment. Leo followed closely after her.

The night had a slight chill in the air, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Leo put a hand on the small of her back as he led her down the sidewalk. Bragnae stopped in her tracks when she saw a gleaming white sporty motorcycle leaning on its kickstand in the street.

“I didn’t know you were bringing your bike.” Wearing a tight dress as she was would prove tricky riding on it.

Leo walked over to the bike, throwing a leg over it and standing it up straight. He looked at her with a side smirk. “I didn’t know you were wearing a dress.”

She took a few hesitating steps forward contemplating if she should go change. As she looked over the bike, she couldn’t help but notice how attractive he looked sitting on the motorcycle.

“It’s only a few blocks, babe. I think you can handle it.” He winked, looking even more devastatingly handsome.

She sighed against her better judgment. “Okay, but if I end up flashing some guy and he harasses me, I expect you to knock him out.”

He laughed. “Deal.”

Bragnae reached down to the hem of her dress, wiggling her hips slightly as she hiked the fabric up a few inches. Leo watched her the entire time looking pleasantly stunned. It was her turn to wink as she braced a hand on his shoulder and straddled the bike behind him.

Leo looked over his shoulder as she settled in. “That was really sexy.” He tilted his head to the sky blowing out a breath. “Hold on tight back there.”

Bragnae scooted forward so she could wrap her arms around his firm abs. She patted his thigh to let him know she was in place. Leo leaned forward on the handles and revved the engine. They took off down the street with the cool wind blowing through their hair. She leaned her cheek on his back as the thrill of zipping down the streets on the back of a fast motorcycle made her feel utterly free.

When they arrived at the club, Bragnae carefully got off the bike first, thankful no one was in the general vicinity. She returned the skirt of her dress to his proper length, and primped her hair after the wind had tousled it. Leo turned off the bike, kicking out the stand so it could lean on its own.

She admired the tightness in his jeans as his leg swung over the back of the bike. A warm tingle pooled between her legs. There was something about a hot guy and a motorcycle that drove her crazy. Leo pocketed his keys, smiling as he took her hand and led her inside.

He waved to the attendants who were checking IDs, passing by without interference. She felt like a minor celebrity being able to bypass the cover charge and validation of her age as Leo’s presence paid it for her. The club was painted in all black and had neon and black lighting around the dance floor and bar.

The atmosphere was thick with sexual and fun energy. The dance floor was already flooded with couples, singles, and groups enjoying themselves. Leo led them over to a clear space at the bar.

“Hey, Trip, can I get a beer and a,” he turned to Bragnae. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

“Can I get a Smirnoff Ice, please?” She asked sweetly.

Leo looked at her incredulously. “Smirnoff Ice? Such a girly drink.”

Bragnae ran her hand down her body showing off her womanly curves. “I am a girl, ya know.” She followed it up with a playful smile.

Leo reciprocated before turning back to the bartender. “And a Smirnoff Ice for the lady.” Their hands still entwined as they waited another moment for their drinks. He pulled Bragnae in, allowing her to sit on the one free stool that was available.

Trip placed their drinks on the bar, and Leo put a twenty down. He handed Bragnae her bottle, clinking it before taking a drink. She enjoyed the refreshing cold liquid rushing down her throat, and the way Leo looked at her as he swallowed his.

He put a hand casually on her thigh as he leaned in to speak in her ear. “So, what do you think about my club?”

The music thumped loudly in her ears, but she could still hear him. “It’s really nice. I bet you have a lot of fun when you work here.”

“It can be, but more often than not I have to bounce some assholes out because they’re too drunk or fighting.” His gaze migrated to her cleavage, prompting a devilish grin. “You really do look great tonight.”

She took another sip of her drink. “Thank you. So do you.” She ran her hand over his chest. “I don’t see you wearing this type of shirt very often. It looks nice on you.” He leaned into her touch sending more of his delicious scent swirling around her. “And you looked pretty hot sitting on that bike.”

“Yeah? Well, I’d like to see you sitting on my bike in that get up you have on. I didn’t quite have the pleasure on the way over here.”

“Maybe I can show you when we leave.” She bit her bottom lip looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“Only if you promise to do that little shimmy and pull up your dress again.” The tips of his fingers slid just underneath the hem of her skirt. His face inches from hers.

Bragnae drew in a sharp breath, feeling an intense throbbing between her legs. Everything Leo did screamed sex. It was becoming hard to concentrate.

“I think that can be arranged.” His mouth was so close. Memories of how his full lips felt against her two days ago came rushing back in a fury, and she suddenly craved him.

He grinned sensing the mood between them. “Wanna dance?”

It wasn’t a kiss, but she had a feeling it’d turn into something even hotter. His hands all over her body was more than enough motivation to get off that bar stool. She and Leo both threw back another swig of their drinks. He took her bottle and his, setting them back on the bar before grabbing her hand again. He pulled her onto the dance floor, maneuvering his way through the crowd to a space they could both comfortably fit.

A sizzling Latino song with a catchy beat began playing, and Leo immediately drew her in close. Bragnae instinctively threw her hands around his neck as they danced. He ran his hands down her sides focusing on her hips. She rolled her pelvis reveling in his continued touch. They looked into each other’s eyes creating a scorching energy between them.

Leo slid his hand around to her lower back while the other lifted her leg just above the knee, holding it against his hips. He grinded into her with rhythmic purpose. The skirt of her dress pushed up a bit making her feel more of him through the thin layer of her panties. He was a great dancer – sensual as hell, balanced and moved to the beat effortlessly.

After a few minutes, a different song transitioned in with a quicker beat and an even dirtier vibe. Leo released her leg, and spun her around so her back was to his chest. He nestled against her, his hands on her hips rolling them along with his. Bragnae flipped her hair to one side, looking over her shoulder at him as her arm hooked behind his neck.

Steamy arousal surged through her body. If they were naked, they’d be having sex by now. The music stimulated the already lustful environment, and Bragnae found herself leaning into his body more and more. The pleasing movement between them provoked breathy moans. One of his hands slipped over her mound, dangerously close to where she really wanted him to touch her.

She braced her other hand on his muscled thigh, squeezing it passionately as they moved. He pressed into her more. Her head fell back against him as she closed her eyes getting lost in the moment.

Soon, to her dismay, the song changed again, and she felt Leo’s movements come to a stop. Feeling a little breathless, she turned around.

“We should, uh, slow it down a bit,” he said, looking her over with hungry eyes.

Refusing to have a repeat of the night prior with almost the exact words that Drake said, she decided to tease him. “Why? Can’t keep up?”

Leo cleared his throat. “No, I’m definitely keeping up.” He adjusted the inseam of his jeans, exhaling a quick breath. Her eyes were drawn there feeling just as excited as he was. “I just meant we should go somewhere quieter.” He took her hand, and led Bragnae over to a roped off area with a sign that read Employees Only.

“Uh, Leo, I don’t think we’re allowed up there.” Bragnae looked skeptically at the cordon in their way leading to a dark staircase.

“It’s fine. I’m an employee. Come on,” he moved one of the poles out of the way to allow her to slip through. He did the same, returning it to the original position.

Bragnae climbed the dimly lit stair way that curved to a single door at the top. She stood to the side as Leo came up behind her, brushing his hand on her lower back. He knocked twice on the door before pulling out a set of keys from his pocket. In that time, no one had come to answer, so Leo unlocked it. He turned the knob pushing the door open, and gestured to Bragnae to enter first.

The room was dark except for a blue light that ran around the perimeter of the ceiling. It was bright enough to see a couple of couches against the walls, a small bar in the corner, and a sound system. After Leo closed the door, the sound from the club below was muffled. She could actually hear herself think, but her ears felt like she was underwater after leaving the loud dance floor.

“What is this room used for, Leo?” She asked running a finger over the counter of the bar, then walked to the center of the room.

“It’s usually reserved for private parties,” he told her as he headed over to the sound system. Bragnae watched him plug his phone into a cord and fiddle with it for a second before R & B music began playing over the speakers.

Leo turned and walked slowly to meet her where she stood. He picked up her hands and laid them on his shoulders as he stepped closer to her swaying them to the sensual beat. His hands rested comfortably on her lower back with his fingers inching their way over the curves of her backside.

“So, we’re not really supposed to be in here, are we?” She smirked up at him.

He offered her a not-so-innocent shrug.

She chuckled. “You’re such a bad boy, Leo.”

He smiled. “Yeah, but I’m the best kind of bad boy.”

“How do you figure?”

Even through the darkness of the room, she could see how deeply he peered into her eyes. The seriousness of his gaze shifting the energy between them. “Because I’m a bad boy with a good heart. All the rebel excitement plus an intense desire to make someone else happy.” He tightened his hold on her to drive home his point as if she didn’t yet know he was talking about her.

Her breath quickened as she got lost in his eyes, believing in every word he just said. Bragnae’s gaze lowered to his full lips, and soon he was pulling them even closer, leaning down as they connected in a slow kiss. The rhythmic music guided their lips to deepen, and kept their bodies steadily swaying with one another.

Her fingers ran through his hair as he parted her lips with his tongue. Every motion was done to the beat of the song, and it was incredible. As his tongue explored her mouth, his lips devoured hers slowly and deliberately. The rest of the world flitted away as they continued to kiss.

Leo’s hands moved down to caress her tush while holding her hips against his. She felt how much he wanted her through the growing bulge in his jeans. It felt good to be desired carnally and in such a romantic way.

Feeling the heat of the moment, Bragnae arched her back, pressing her breasts against his chest as she leaned her head away from him. Leo worked his mouth over her neck. His hot breath hitting her skin sent a chill down her spine. One of his hands slid up her stomach and over her breast stopping to knead it gently. She moaned at his touch, their hips still rocking against each other in an erotically slow pace.

Leo groaned. “God, Bragnae. I want you so bad.” He gently brought her back up to him, kissing her with more vigor than before. She offered him no protests, only moans of agreement as he walked her backwards toward the couch.

They fell back onto the soft leather. The weight of his body on hers made her writhe with anticipation. A sudden thought made her break their kiss.

“Leo, someone could come in here and see us.”

That wicked grin of his was back. “Yeah, and it’s even hotter knowing we could get caught.” He captured her lips in another satisfying kiss. “Relax. I locked it, and no one else should be coming up here tonight.”

Feeling reassured, she pulled him in again returning to their intimate moment.

#trr #trr fanfic #trr leo #the royal romance #the royal romance fanfic #leo x mc #leo reese #bragnae bennett #trr love triangle #TRR Winner Take All Fanfic #Club Inferno #smirnoff ice

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