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ladyartemesia · 4 years

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All I Want For Christmas is You

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Female Reader

Summary: When Park Jimin is unable to escort his precious sister through the gauntlet of corporate holiday galas, he blackmails his best friend Taehyung into being her chaperone. After all, who better to safeguard his headstrong sibling than a man who would never want her for himself? (She and Tae have spent the better part of a decade mutually disliking each other, and that’s putting it mildly.) Yet, even the best laid plans may go awry at Christmas and Kim Taehyung is about to discover that the girl he never wanted has become a temptation he cannot resist...

Genre: Comedy • Fluff • Smut

Tropes: Brother’s Best Friend (Reader is Jimin’s Sister) • Enemies-to-Lovers

Collab: This work is part of the Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tropes Collab featuring original holiday themed works by @ppersonna • @xjoonchildx • @underthejoon • @yeojaa • @untaemedqueen • and @snackhobi

Word Count: 17K (I know—I am shocked too honestly)

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: suggestive photographs • mention of accidentally being hit with a baseball • hints of jealousy and possessiveness • light tit slapping • explicit sexual content • m/f oral sex • consensual unprotected sex (shield it before you yield it y’all) • Viola’s mirror kink makes yet another appearance •

Acknowledgements:

To @ppersonna (Lindy) @underthejoon (Fal) and @xjoonchildx (Ana) you guys are my heart. Your support, willingness to read (and re-read) and give honest feedback made this fic special. Your friendship is my daily dose of awesome. Truly, I love you.

To @untaemedqueen (D) all of the above applies to you, but I owe you a little something extra for the LITERAL HOURS you spent in the doc with me. This fic would not be here without you. You kept me moving. You inspired me. You were amazing. Thank you so very much. This story is lovingly dedicated to you.

To @hobi-gif for being the most thorough and incredible beta reader and for having all the important girl chats with me. I think you learned more about my past than you wanted... Either way you made this story better and I am profoundly grateful for the hours of time you spent. I have removed all the Hope-No-No words in your honor.

To @lemonjoonah as always, you knew EXACTLY what I needed to tweak to make this story work. (Gotta pass that Lemon Litmus Test or no dice lol.) My lovely soul twin. You’re a bloomin’ rockstar.

Please Picture This Taehyung:

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Yes. Because you absolutely owe me.”

“Then send me a bill, not your unmanageable harpy of a sister.”

Jimin raised a single unimpressed brow.

“Kim Taehyung. It was exactly five years ago today that I carried your drunken naked ass two miles in the rain after you set your clothes on fire and sprained your ankle at that Beta Phi party.” He paused dramatically. “Do you remember what you said to me that night? After I deleted several pictures off phones and paid off half the party to keep it out of the papers?”

The man in question shifted uncomfortably.

“That incident is a bit hazy in my memory. I’m not sure I recall—”

“Jiminie—you’re the best and I—I owe… you. I owe you the most, Jiminie. I do—I owe you a favor—one BIG favor—anything you ask… Even though... I actually like being naked. I don’t think we need clothes. We should all be naked. Everyone. Then there would be world peace.”

Taehyung’s jaw dropped.

“You RECORDED IT?!”

Jimin grinned, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

“Naturally. And I had it all ready to go—just in case you needed extra convincing.” He crossed his arms and fixed his best friend of nearly fifteen years with a triumphant smirk. “I’m calling in that favor today, Taehyung. Now are you a man of your word or not?”

“He did WHAT?!”

Your mother winced.

“Jimin was... uncomfortable leaving you alone for the holiday season. He normally accompanies you to the galas but this year—”

“This year I was going to go alone and finally build my reputation as an asset to this family!”

Park Soomin sighed as she watched her daughter pace fiercely around the living room of their luxury suite.

“No one doubts that you’re an asset, but… in light of recent events...”

Rage and embarrassment flared up in your chest before you could stop them.

“This is about Milo… isn’t it?”

The silence that greeted your statement was confirmation enough.

“Are you ever going to trust me again?” you whispered.

“Oh sweetheart... it isn’t you we don’t trust...”

Tears burned at the corner of your eyes, but you ruthlessly blinked them back.

You would play along with their humiliating schemes.

For now.

“So which one of Jimin’s Ivy League brat pack did he blackmail into babysitting me?

For the first time in the entirety of the conversation, your mother looked truly nervous.

“Kim Taehyung.”

You tripped over your own feet and face-planted into the sofa.

“Jungkook, I need to look into faking my own death. Nothing too over the top. Just a tasteful disappearance—”

The man in question could barely restrain his grin.

“You don’t pay me nearly enough to deal with your mother in the event of your tragic demise and miraculous resurrection.”

“I could pay you more.”

“Or,” Jungkook replied with a heavy dose of judgment coloring his tone, “you could put on this ridiculous tie and stop trying to weasel out of it.”

“Sometimes I wonder why I pay you at all,” Taehyung growled, yanking the tie from the younger man’s grasp. “Clearly I’m not the one in charge.”

“Your words, sir, not mine. Now shall we go over the details and itinerary?”

If Jeon Jungkook wasn’t the best executive aide in the city (and one of his closest friends) Tae would have drop-kicked him right then and there.

“Could you at least try to look like you’re not enjoying this?”

“I’m sorry, sir. It was insensitive of me to ignore your suffering in this delicate time. The trauma of escorting a beautiful woman to a series of glorified buffets weighs heavily upon you.”

Taehyung tightened the tie so aggressively, he almost strangled himself.

“Beautiful woman?!” he wheezed. “We’re talking about the girl who showed up to our formal graduation party looking like she just escaped from Azkaban.”

Jungkook bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully.

“Tae… how long has it been since you’ve actually seen Ms. Park?”

“Seen? Maybe three—four years.”

The heir-apparent of Kim Holdings avoided the public end of corporate culture like the plague, preferring to leave the requisite schmoozing to his personable cousin, Kim Seokjin.

However, he had crossed paths with his adolescent nemesis in... other ways.

Taehyung was romancing a lovely young socialite who suddenly ghosted him after someone told her that he wanted at least eight naturally-birthed children.

Soon after, your favorite charity received an anonymous 30,000 dollar donation requesting that you be featured in the dunk tank for an upcoming benefit carnival and then the same anonymous patron paid for at least fifteen little league teams to attend.

In retaliation, someone petitioned the National Aviary Society (chaired by a very influential senator’s wife that no one ever refused if they wanted their permits to go through) to make Taehyung the MC at their annual awards ceremony—knowing full well he was allergic to birds (not dangerously allergic—just enough to be miserable).

Taehyung had sniffled and sneezed through approximately one hundred parrots, parakeets, and other assorted fowl until he was ready to commit murder.

The last several years had been littered with similar incidents of the two of you taking thinly veiled potshots at one another.

“I can’t imagine she’s changed very much,” Taehyung bit off absently. His mind was abruptly consumed by how he could get revenge for those demonic birds.

He didn’t notice the smile creeping over Jungkook’s face.

“No, sir. I’m sure she hasn’t changed at all.”

Taehyung had only ever had the wind knocked out of him once before.

He was Dionysia High School’s star pitcher for three seasons and during one particularly tense game against JY Prep, Lim Jaebeom whacked a line drive right into his solar plexus.

That’s how it felt to look up and see you at the top of the stairs.

In his head, you were still the mischievous imp from his childhood. Every prank he played was directed at the fierce little fiend with braids and braces who’d knocked him and his date into the university fountain while experimenting with her friend’s skateboard.

But she was gone… and in her place was something far more dangerous.

A woman.

Silken fabric wrapped tightly over curves you definitely didn’t have four years ago. That wild hair had been tamed into shining waves and pinned elegantly at the nape of your neck. The wicked slit that traveled all the way up your thigh teased a smooth shapely leg that all but demanded the viewer fantasize about running their hand up the length of it.

Suddenly it was very clear why Park Jimin wouldn’t let his sister venture into the corporate cesspool alone.

Because the sight of you could make a man desperate.

Betrayal—of all things—slowly crept over Taehyung as you descended toward him like some sort of angel floating down from the heavens.

His mind went blank. Just watching the seductive shift of your hips as you swayed ever closer felt like a violation of his friendship with Jimin. He could feel the judgmental stares of an imaginary Bro-Code Council boring into him from on high.

“I see you’ve recovered from your memorable tenure as the Aviary Society’s Master of Ceremonies.”

And just like that the brat was back.

Taehyung breathed a hefty sigh of relief, secretly thrilled to be in familiar territory with you.

“Naturally I was delighted to help Senator Mitchell’s wife. In fact, Mitchell’s office just fast tracked all my pending permit requests for the new year.” He tilted forward, coming into your space a bit. “I should really send you a thank you card.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you scowled, breezing past him like an indignant queen.

Tae could practically see the steam pouring out of your ears.

“Of course not,” he chuckled.

The first gala of the holiday season was an extravagant annual affair hosted by Min Corp., a Seoul based investment firm that commanded billions in assets. This year, the theme of the event was the Joseon Dynasty and the entire ballroom had been gloriously transformed into a stunning celebration of the Min family’s royal heritage.

Attendees were gifted their own traditional fan, each uniquely crafted by artisans from Damyang. Taehyung’s was all black with bold silver calligraphy while yours was a beautiful bamboo and silk piece decorated with pomegranate trees.

You had already whacked three people with it by the time dinner was served.

“It really is a pity these fell out of fashion,” you lamented. “They’re quite useful.”

“You are deranged,” Taehyung mumbled, massaging his temples in exasperation.

“Nonsense. I only fanned those who deserved it.”

“Harkins?”

“He was staring at my rack for a solid minute.”

Taehyung could hardly blame the man, it was a battle he himself was losing after all, but Harkins was twice your age and married—therefore his ogling was in especially poor taste.

“Okay... What about Kang?”

“He was verbally abusing one of the waitstaff.”

“Alright, fair enough, but why on earth would you go after sweet old Mrs. O’Malley?”

“She was about to grab your ass.”

Taehyung’s mouth dropped open.

“She’s eighty-five!”

“And still kickin’ apparently.” You shook your head in disgust. “As if I’d whack an eighty-five year-old woman for anything less than non-consensual touching.”

“I- I- mean—surely you must be mistaken,” he coughed.

“Oh, there’s no mistake. That nasty old crone is a serial offender. She likes to play it off as dementia, but she’s as sharp as a tack. Last year she got a whole handful of Jimin. Honestly, I’d call the police on her, but the commissioner is her grandson so I doubt I’d get very far.”

Taehyung turned to the woman in question just in time to see her totter lecherously toward Jung Hoseok, fingers already twitching in anticipation.

“Is nothing sacred?” he mused hollowly.

You shrugged.

“Many people who accumulate as much as our families have start believing that they are entitled to whatever strikes their fancy.” Your eyes met his with a hint of bemusement. “Surely you should be used to this sort of thing by now?”

“Yes, but I was hardly expecting it from little old ladies!”

The remainder of dinner was a terse affair where you pretended he didn’t exist for the entire meal and he in turn pretended that the spunky young heiress seated to his right was the most darling creature to ever walk the earth. By dessert she was ready to get married and you were ready to vomit.

Afterward, Taehyung found himself quickly converted to your views on fan usefulness as you began strolling through the crowd intent on strengthening your family’s corporate ties.

“Kim Taehyung,” you ground out through clenched teeth, “how am I supposed to do business if you keep stabbing everyone I speak to!”

“I don’t know what you’re implying. I’m simply not used to carrying one of these. I may have accidentally grazed a few overzealous individuals—”

“My last three conversations have been rudely disrupted by the blunt end of that accused fan.”

Taehyung crossed his arms smugly.

“And what of it? Jimin sent me along to keep an eye on you and the gentlemen in question were hardly behaving themselves. No one has to put their hand in my back or lean that close to me when they’re talking business.”

“That’s because no one wants to get that close to you,” you replied sweetly. “You’re gross.”

A devastating grin slid slowly over his features as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

“I can think of several women who might disagree.”

He just barely caught the hitch in your breath before-

“Like who? Miss Blushes-and-Giggles from dinner?”

“Jealous?” Taehyung drawled cockily.

“Only in your dreams, Kim.” Then, with a deliberate flick of your fan, you turned your back to him. “I’m headed for the ladies room. Do yourself a favor and don’t follow me in.”

It was twenty minutes before Taehyung realized that you slipped out the back entrance of the restroom.

It took another ten for him to locate you on the balcony flirting outrageously with Min Yoongi.

The young heir of Min Corp. was just leaning closer to whisper sweet nothings in your ear when a black fan slid right in between the two of you.

“Lovely weather we’re having,” Taehyung observed cheerfully. His eyes bounced between you and Yoongi with barely concealed fury and you let out a miserable groan.

“Mr. Kim,” Yoongi cleared his throat significantly. “What an… unexpected surprise.”

Frustration clawed at your chest as your overbearing guardian nodded smugly in response.

It was time to teach him—and Jimin—a lesson.

“Yoongi,” you sighed, sliding your hand pointedly through the crook of his arm, “I’m not feeling at all well. Would you perhaps… escort me home?”

Taehyung suddenly looked as if he’d swallowed a live octopus.

Yoongi grinned, clearly thrilled with the prospect of simultaneously spending more time with you and irritating Taehyung.

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Jimin is gonna kill me,” Taehyung grumbled as he watched Min Yoongi help you into the passenger seat of his Aston Martin.

An ugly green feeling he refused to identify twisted sharply in his gut when you smiled coyly at the other man.

“This is ridiculous,” he snarled to no one in particular before yanking his phone out of his pocket.

Jungkook picked up on the second ring.

“Sir?”

“I need you to drive to Ms. Park’s apartment and tell me if she goes in alone or if Min Yoongi goes in with her.”

“You want me to what?!”

“Just do it!” he snapped, downing an entire glass of champagne before signaling his own driver.

Fifteen minutes later his phone vibrated from the car seat next to him.

1 New Message from: Jungkook

Her building has four separate entrances. Which one do I watch?

Taehyung could practically feel the vein pulsing in his forehead as he scrolled through his contacts.

You picked up on the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“Oh it’s you… Wait—how did you get this number?”

“Jimin. Obviously. Now please answer the question.”

“Oh a ‘please.’ Who knew you had manners?”

“Answer the question, Park. I’m tired.”

The distinct sound of a zipper unzipping carried through the speaker.

“I’m at home, of course. Where else would I be? I just got here like a minute ago.”

He had a sudden vision of Min Yoongi helping you out of your dress. His grip on the phone tightened.

“Are you alone?”

You snorted.

“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”

Taehyung saw red.

“I’m coming over.”

There was a loud crash and several colorful words in at least three different languages.

“Wha- No! I’m trying to go to bed!”

“With who?!”

“With myself, you idiot!”

“Prove it!”

“Fine! I will!”

The line disconnected and Taehyung swore loudly. He was just about to direct the driver to your building when his phone went off again.

1 New Message from: Park Gremlin

He almost choked on his tongue.

You were clearly in the middle of undressing and—in your irritation—probably hadn’t looked too carefully at the picture you sent.

At first glance it was simply a shot of your empty room (presumably “proof” that you were alone) but you neglected to consider the floor-length mirror hanging in the far corner…

A mirror that showed you angrily holding up your phone with your gown pooled deliciously around your waist and the soft round swells of your breasts strapped into lacy red lingerie.

You were exquisite.

A fierce, hot sensation gripped him ruthlessly, and this time there was no mistaking it.

Desire.

Your phone lit up on the bed where you tossed it after snapping a photo for your tightly-wound man nanny.

1 New Message from: Kim Grinch

I didn’t know you liked Van Gogh.

Your head tilted in confusion.

There was a Van Gogh print in your room, but he couldn’t have seen it because it was behind you when-

Oh NO.

You gasped, scrolling back up to confirm what deep down you already knew to be true.

… You just sent Kim Taehyung a topless mirror selfie.

Several miles away, smiling smugly in the backseat of his town car, Taehyung was sure he could almost hear you screaming.

“Good morning, sir. Which would you like first; the bad news or the worse news?”

Taehyung groaned from underneath his covers.

“Don’t you ever knock? I could have a woman up here.”

“You’ve never brought a woman up here.”

“Is that the bad news?” Taehyung yawned.

“No,” Jungkook tossed a small stack of newspapers and printed digital articles into his lap, “this is the bad news.”

Pictures of you, Min Yoongi, and even himself were splashed over the front pages of all of them.

PARK ANGEL TRADES ONE CORPORATE HEIR FOR ANOTHER AT MIN GALA

WHO WILL WIN THE PARK ANGEL’S HEART? KIM TAEHYUNG OR MIN YOONGI? LET US KNOW IN THE COMMENTS

NEW ROMANCE ALERT? PARK ANGEL LEAVES JOSEON BALL WITH MIN SCION

“The Park Angel?”

“That’s what the media calls her... The public is rather fascinated with her actually.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Taehyung mumbled.

“Of course not, sir. It’s a great mystery.”

As usual, Taehyung chose to ignore his aide’s lethal snark and pressed on to the matter at hand.

“This is a flaming disaster.”

“Oh I don’t know. I really appreciated the picture of you staring on forlornly while she and Yoongi climbed into the Aston Martin. Takes a real gift to capture all that drama in a single frame.”

“Which one was that?!”

“It’s right under the MAN DOWN: PARK ANGEL LEAVES KIM TAEHYUNG HEARTBROKEN headline.”

Tae ran his hand down over his face in exasperation.

“I’m surprised my mother hasn’t called.”

“She has. Twice.”

“I don’t suppose that’s the ‘worse news’ is it?”

“No.”

“Of course it isn’t. I’m never that lucky.” He collapsed backwards into his pillows with a beleaguered huff. “Go ahead then. Tell me.”

“Park Jimin is on the line for you right now.”

After a small eternity on the phone with Jimin (assuring him that NO Min Yoongi had not despoiled his precious sister and YES he would definitely do better next time), Taehyung was forced to attend an impromptu brunch with his mother. It took considerable effort, but he was eventually able to convince her that you were neither breaking his heart nor expecting his child.

By the time he arrived to collect you for this evening’s event, Taehyung was already sick of hearing your name (he’d spoken it no less than three hundred times since Jungkook woke him this morning).

You were in much the same boat as Taehyung, having spent most of the afternoon pacifying Jimin and clearing up your own mother’s romantic delusions regarding the Min and Kim heirs respectively.

Tonight’s gala was a Victorian Christmas Ball thrown by the National Literary Fund and the entire venue had been transformed into a Charles Dickens fever dream.

Unlike the Min Gala (whose theme was guarded like a state secret every year) the Literary Fund’s tribute to A Christmas Carol was tradition and you were dressed accordingly in a custom corset gown with gorgeous detailing.

Every second of effort it took to lace yourself into the monstrosity was worth the look on Taehyung’s face the moment you slipped off your cape.

“Something wrong, Mr. Kim?”

Taehyung was desperately trying to look literally anywhere but your chest, where said corset was serving up your breasts like a debauched buffet.

Jimin. Think of Jimin. Think of what Jimin will do to you. Think of how much trouble she’s caused-

He peeked again.

I would pay a million dollars to suck those tits.

“Nothing at all,” his voice cracked.

The itinerary for the evening included performances by a local children’s choir, a traditional waltz, and—of course—dinner.

You both managed to get along without snapping at each other during the choral performance, but as two of the largest donors to the Children’s Literacy Initiative, neither of you could escape being drawn into the waltz.

The energetic socialite who Taehyung flirted with over dinner the previous night eventually lured him onto the floor while you graciously accepted an invitation from a lovely older gentleman who chaired the Fund’s event committee.

For the first few movements, you were thoroughly enjoying yourself. Mr. Lee was charming, respectful, and still an excellent dancer despite his advanced age. It wasn’t until a familiar sound caught your attention that the lightness in your chest suddenly felt heavy...

Taehyung was laughing.

You heard him do so many times over the years, and in each instance, the carefree magic of it never failed to make your heart flutter.

But now he was smiling down at the pretty little heiress and laughing for her… and the flutter in your chest was accompanied by something else.

Something that felt an awful lot like longing.

“Does he know you look at him like that?” Mr. Lee asked quietly.

Your eyes flew guiltily to his, but it was too late. The old man had caught a glimpse of the secret you buried deeply for more than a decade; so deeply, in fact, there were times you almost forgot it yourself...

Almost.

“No,” you whispered, “he has no idea.”

Disaster struck at dinner.

Taehyung quite liked dancing with the lovely Miss Something-or-Other. She was sweet and funny and (unlike with you) he wasn’t constantly torn between agitation and raging inappropriate lust in her presence.

The cold shoulder you offered him when he took his seat seemed even more frigid than usual and he spent half the meal wondering what he’d done to earn your amplified disdain when suddenly—

Your hand smacked down on his wrist, seizing it in a vise-like grip.

Taehyung nearly choked on his steak and was about to give you a searing set-down over your spontaneous grabby-ness when he noticed your expression.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, leaning forward in concern.

“I-I need—”

It looked as if you were in some sort of physical pain and Taehyung was rapidly becoming worried.

“I need your help,” you finally managed to whimper and the next thing he knew, you were dragging him away from the table and into one of the secluded alcoves near the main entrance hall.

“Is there anyone around? Can anyone see us?” The look on your face bordered on unhinged.

“No. There’s no one. Park, are you okay? What’s going on I—”

“I need you to unlace my dress,” you hissed frantically.

At that moment, a bomb could have gone off and Taehyung wouldn’t have blinked.

You, however, were completely preoccupied with your own distress and therefore oblivious to his.

“My earring broke during dinner and fell down there and now it’s stabbing me—”

Your eyes were beginning to tear. Taehyung remained frozen, still trying to figure out whether or not this was a lucid dream.

“—it’s definitely pierced the skin and there’s a possibility I’m gonna start bleeding through the fabric—”

The mention of blood snapped him out of his daze somewhat.

“A-Alright. Just turn around—brace yourself on that wall.”

You quickly did as you were told and Taehyung began to tug fruitlessly at the ties cross-crossing your back.

“Why won’t this—”

His fingers fumbled over the knots, desperately trying to loosen them, but they simply wouldn’t budge.

“I can’t—I can’t get it. Whoever helped you into this thing made sure you weren’t getting out of it.”

You whined in frustration and the earring shifted a bit in response.

There was only one other way to fix this (and you would almost rather be in pain).

“Taehyung I—” you turned to face him again, forcing your eyes shut before reluctantly doing what had to be done “... I need you to reach down the front of my dress and get it.”

He blinked. Twice.

“I’m sorry—What did you just—”

“Please, Tae,” you whispered desperately, letting your lip tremble in a way he had never been able to resist, “it hurts…”

He gulped.

His eyes dropped to the matter at hand.

This is fine. Everything’s fine. She’s in pain, right? You’re basically a doctor right now. You’re just going slide your hand in between the most mouthwatering pair of breasts you’ve ever seen and then—

Taehyung’s manic inner monologue was interrupted by the sound of his own moan. He immediately faked a coughing fit to cover it and prayed you hadn’t noticed.

(You hadn’t. You were actively being stabbed.)

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this,” he muttered, curling his fingers over the scalloped edge of the bodice.

You bit your lip, desperately trying to hold back any reaction, but when his knuckle brushed the pebbled tip of your nipple, you gasped.

Oh.

His hand stuttered, lingering a moment too long over the tight little peak as his gaze suddenly shot up to meet yours. Both of you had been studiously avoiding eye contact, yet now it was as if neither of you could look away.

Taehyung wet his lips reflexively.

“It’s too tight,” he whispered, “I need more leverage.”

Then his arm wrapped over the curve of your lower back and he drew you tightly against him, anchoring your hips just enough to fully slip his hand between your body and the corset.

You were so warm.

So soft...

“I can feel it,” he grunted, “but I can’t get a good grip on it.”

His mouth pressed into a tight line as he leaned forward, bringing your back up against the wall. You let out a little squeak and his eyes darted briefly down to your mouth before he spoke again.

“Hold on to me.”

You nodded and wordlessly slid your arms around his waist.

If you concentrated hard enough, you could almost pretend that this wasn’t one of the most erotic moments of your life.

You could almost pretend that it meant nothing.

Your mind was spinning wildly, wondering what he was thinking, wondering if he noticed how strangely you were breathing or how hard your heart was beating...

“I’ve got it,” he murmured. Shivers shot down your spine at the dark timbre of his voice.

He was so close. You could feel every word he spoke brushing softly against your skin.

“On ‘three’ I’m going to pull it out… Are you ready?”

You drew in a final steadying breath.

“Do it.”

He nodded.

“One… Two… Three—”

Taehyung yanked his hand back and several things happened at once.

Your breasts bounced almost entirely out of the corset.

The decorative clasps on the front of your gown tangled with the buttons on his shirt and when he pulled back, three of them went flying off like stray bullets.

And finally, the corset didn’t relinquish Taehyung’s hand quite quickly enough and, as a result, you toppled forward and crashed down on top of him, smashing your newly bare breasts to his newly bare chest.

It could have been ten seconds or ten hours that passed by while the two of you lay there, breathing heavily in a pile of confused arousal when—

“... Is… everything alright here?”

You both looked up to find a thoroughly scandalized member of the waitstaff standing over you.

Taehyung saw his life flash before his eyes—ending (of course) with Jimin murdering him for this.

He gulped again.

“I can explain.”

It was decided—for the sake of appearances—that you would both leave the venue (immediately) in separate vehicles.

Taehyung dropped a cool three hundred in crisp bills on the unfortunate waiter in order to help him ‘forget’ whatever he may or may not have seen.

Neither of you spoke another word to each other in the ten minutes it took to bribe all the appropriate parties, gather your coats, and call for two separate town cars.

Something had happened when he touched you; a subtle shift in the precarious balance of your relationship that you both felt keenly, but could not possibly begin to define.

Taehyung barely even remembered climbing into the back of a vehicle. His body was firing on auto-pilot after the sensory overload of the last half hour. It wasn’t until he was nearly home that he realized he was still holding onto your earring.

His mind began to wander as he examined the troublesome bauble in his palm. It was a striking piece; deceptively complex and unexpectedly beautiful.

Just like you.

He told himself that the heat pooling low in his belly was anger—that the strange anxiousness to be near you was simply a desire for retribution—that it was merely platonic curiosity that left his hands aching to explore the rest of your curves.

Lies.

… and pitifully transparent ones at that.

Still, he clung to them desperately out of self-preservation.

The gentle hum of his phone suddenly disturbed Taehyung’s silent contemplation.

1 New Message from: Park Gremlin

I made it home safely.

Taehyung’s fingers were typing a reply before he could properly consider the consequence of his actions.

To: Park Gremlin

I require proof… like last time.

He nearly threw the phone the moment he sent it, running his hands down over his face in disbelief.

You’re playing with fire, Kim Taehyung.

And he was burning up already. He had no business sending you texts like that. Maybe you wouldn’t catch it. Maybe he could just-

The phone went off again and it was embarrassing how quickly he scrambled to open your response.

His heart stuttered in his chest. His breathing ceased entirely-

And he knew—he knew—there was no coming back from this.

At first glance the photo was nearly identical to the shot you sent him last night. Same room, same angle…

same mirror.

Yet this time, the reflection was quite different.

The temptress in the glass wore nothing but that sinfully delicious corset and a pair of silky lace thigh highs, each accented with a green satin bow.

He wanted to rip them off with his teeth.

“Oh Taehyung,” he whispered, as a dark wave primitive longing tore through him, “you are in so much trouble.”

Across town (buried beneath a pile of blankets) you were still struggling to process the boldness of your own actions when his response lit up your screen.

1 New Message from: Kim Grinch

Green is my favorite color.

“WHERE IS HE—”

Taehyung awoke to a series of crashes and shouts echoing from the floor below him.

Jungkook was already seated in the corner of the room reading a newspaper.

“Good morning, sir,” he said without looking up. “Would you like the bad news or the worse news?”

Suddenly the french doors of his bedroom slammed open and one very irate Park Jimin stormed through.

“I swear I should have seen this coming. The two of you have always been obsessed with each other, but I never imagined—”

Taehyung’s eyes widened guiltily. He quickly schooled his features into a confused glare.

“Jimin, I’ve only been awake for fifteen seconds. What the hell are you talking about?!”

Another stack of newspapers hit his lap and this time the pictures were mostly of him with his shirt ripped halfway down his chest.

KIM HEIR AND PARK ANGEL CAUSE AN OLD-FASHIONED SCANDAL AT VICTORIAN BALL

FORGET MISTLETOE: KIM TAEHYUNG DISCOVERED UNDER THE PARK ANGEL AT CHRISTMAS CELEBRATION

NAUGHTY NOEL? PARK ANGEL’S STEAMY AFFAIR WITH CORPORATE PRINCE

PARK ANGEL TOPS KIM TAEHYUNG’S CHRISTMAS TREE

He winced a bit at that last one.

“You have ten seconds to explain before I start throwing things.”

Taehyung opened his mouth to do just that, but he was interrupted when his mother marched into the room waving the same articles that Jimin had just thrown at him.

“KIM TAEHYUNG I raised you better than this! How could you!? That poor girl!”

“Mother!” he squeaked, yanking his blanket up over his chest like a frightened debutante.

Jungkook began surreptitiously filming the whole debacle from the corner.

“Indeed,” Jimin added darkly, crossing his arms over his chest, “how could you?”

Taehyung sighed heavily.

“Is anyone else going to come charging into my bedroom?”

“Just answer me once and for all, is she pregnant?”

“WHAT?!”

“NO! Mother! Oh my—”

“Why does your mom think my little sister is pregnant?!”

Taehyung waved his arms wildly in exasperation.

“My mom thinks everyone is pregnant! You know this!”

Jungkook could no longer contain his hysterical cackling. He very nearly fell off the chair trying to hold it all in.

“Mr. Jeon,” Taehyung ground out irritably, “if it’s not too much trouble, could you please escort everyone out of my bedroom so I can get dressed!”

“So you see—I was basically like a doctor,” Taehyung finished emphatically.

He spent the past twenty minutes explaining to the entire table (which now included both you and your mother) why it was necessary to shove his hand down the front of your dress.

Park Soomin had shown up at his door looking for answers (and dragging you behind her like a sacrificial lamb) about three minutes after Jimin.

You had taken one look at Jimin’s murderous expression and insisted that the situation be evaluated over breakfast at the cafe down the street (where there were lots of witnesses).

Which was how you, Taehyung, Jimin, and both your mothers ended up discussing your cleavage over coffee in a public restaurant.

Jimin was the first to break. It was a few snorts at first, but he was basically in tears by the end of it, wheezing about how he never doubted Taehyung for a second and holding on to his sides from laughing too hard.

Taehyung’s gaze met yours for a brief, heated exchange. He conveniently forgot to mention your slightly-less-than-explainable ‘check-in’ texts, but their existence was palpable in the air between you.

“I think I’ll take a walk,” you muttered, excusing yourself from the complicated atmosphere at the table.

Taehyung’s eyes lingered on you a tad too long as you wandered away, a fact that wasn’t missed by either of your mothers.

“Just a few more events and you can go back to not seeing her at all,” Jimin chuckled, patting him on the back.

“Yeah,” Taehyung answered with a tight smile. “That’s… great.”

The cafe had a lovely little balcony area decorated with all sorts of comforting Christmas foliage. It was far more inviting than the awkward conversation and confusing stares you and Taehyung had been trading all morning.

For the first time in the nearly fifteen years of your relationship (such as it was) you didn’t know where you stood with him… and it bothered you more than you cared to admit.

Taehyung had always been important to you, whether you wanted him to be or not. He mattered—effortlessly—from the first moment you met him and continued to do so without regard for your sanity.

Whatever was building between you now would almost certainly bring change… though what kind of change was anyone’s guess.

It was hard to imagine the years ahead without the strange excitement he always brought to your life, but some things were simply out of your control…

“I never thought I’d see you here.”

A profoundly unpleasant feeling (something similar to falling through the ice on a frozen pond) overtook you.

“Milo.” Even saying his name felt gross. You sighed. “What is so strange about seeing me here?”

The man in question blushed in a way you once found irresistible.

“I looked for you everywhere. All your usual places—”

“I avoided them.”

I avoided you.

Milo nodded.

“I—I figured.”

He took a step closer and you instinctively moved back. The hurt in his eyes was unmistakable, but you had long since become immune.

“What are you doing?” you hissed angrily. “I thought I made myself clear the last time we spoke.”

“Yes, but—” his hand reached out to curl over your forearm and you recoiled, “you didn’t give me a chance to explain—”

“Excuse me.”

You both turned to see Kim Taehyung with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Milo like he was a roach that crawled across his dinner plate.

“Your mother sent me to come find you. She wants to leave.”

You nodded and moved to pull away, but Milo’s grip tightened on your arm.

“No—please if you just give me a minute—”

“That is enough,” Taehyung snarled, seizing the other man’s hand and forcibly removing it from your person. He angled his body between the two of you protectively. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

Milo’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re Kim Taehyung. I read all about you in the papers this morning.” His lips twisted into an ugly sneer as he addressed you. “You really think you’re better off with him if that’s the way he treats you?”

Taehyung tensed menacingly beside you, but you laid a gentle hand on his arm to calm him.

“None of that is any of your concern.” Your gaze rose to meet his defiantly. “Nothing about me is your concern anymore.”

Milo’s eyes fell to where your palm rested on the other man’s sleeve, noticing the way you both unconsciously leaned toward one another.

“This isn’t over,” he muttered, storming off.

After he was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding.

“Thank you,” you whispered (though you couldn’t resist adding), “I could have handled it myself of course…”

Taehyung laughed.

“Oh I know. I was at that party where you knocked out Tyler Jung for grabbing your ass.”

You grinned.

“I’d forgotten about that.”

“Well I’m sure Tyler hasn’t.”

(He neglected to mention that he split Tyler’s lip behind the library the next day, just to make sure it was extra memorable for him.)

“I wish I could forget about Milo.”

“... Are you still in love with him?”

The words tasted like ash in his mouth.

“No.” You smiled softly. “I’m not sure I was ever in love with him actually. It’s more—” you sighed, “—embarrassment… wounded pride.”

Taehyung tilted his head curiously and you found yourself continuing.

“In the beginning, he was very playful and charming—and obviously handsome. He reminded me so much of—”

you.

You cleared your throat.

“Anyway… I was quite taken with him at first. I didn’t suspect any ulterior motives.” You shrugged, trying to hold back the unpleasant emotions that always threatened to overrun you in moments like this. “I just thought he liked me.”

Taehyung’s eyes filled with sympathy and understanding as you spoke. It felt oddly natural to open up to him this way.

“Jimin is very protective of me—with good reason it turns out. He was suspicious of Milo and hired people to do some discreet digging.”

Your hands wrapped around your body for both warmth and comfort.

“Milo’s family owns several companies, just like ours, but they’re all struggling. His father sent him to me hoping that he would eventually get compromising information… a sex tape or photographs—something of that nature. They intended to blackmail Jimin into doing business with them.”

Taehyung felt his jaw clench painfully. Fury, hot and profound, rolled through him.

“I should kill him.”

You shook your head, amused in spite of yourself.

“That’s exactly what Jimin said.”

“He has good instincts.”

“Scum like Milo aren’t worth it,” you chuckled. “He never got what he wanted… but I was still mortified. I felt like such a fool for believing him.”

“No,” Taehyung’s hands slid up to cup your shoulders, “it’s not foolish to believe that someone cared for you.”

It would be so easy to care for you.

“Besides…” his eyes fell briefly to your lips as he searched for the right words, “I saw the way he looked at you and—even though he’s clearly a terrible person—I believe his feelings may have been genuine.”

You nodded.

“That’s what he keeps trying to tell me—that he did have bad intentions, but ended up falling for me anyway.” You shook your head. “As If I could believe a word he says.”

The silence between you stretched comfortably. Taehyung sensed you had more to say, so he waited until you were ready to voice it.

“I think that’s why I’m so sensitive about handling things on my own lately… and just now even. I want to prove to everyone—to myself—that I’m not a liability.”

“Hey,” he whispered, tipping your chin up till your gazes met, “no one thinks you’re a liability. And even if you are capable, no one should have to fight their own battles all the time—especially when they’re emotionally compromised…” His thumb gently brushed away the small tear that escaped down the curve of your cheek. “That’s the benefit of having people who care about you.”

“... Like you?”

The words left you so softly, you could almost imagine they were still in your head where they likely should have stayed.

Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise. His gaze became even more intent and you ceased breathing altogether. After a moment his lips parted as if he was about to speak-

“What’s going on, guys?”

You both jerked back at the sound of your brother’s voice. He was standing in the entrance to the balcony, gaze darting suspiciously between the two of you.

Taehyung was a bit dazed, but you were always quicker on your feet.

“I ran into Milo… Tae was calming me down.”

Jimin’s eyes hardened immediately.

“Where is he?”

“Long gone,” you mumbled, ambling over to the familiar warmth of his arms. “I just want to go home.”

The Black and White Ball was one of the most coveted invitations of the holiday season.

The dress code was quite strict (all black or all white—no exceptions) and it was one of the few events where people actually arrived in limousines.

Taehyung loathed limousines. He felt absurdly pretentious pulling up to your building in such a gauche ride, but traditions and appearances meant too much in his world to simply disregard them.

His ensemble for the evening was a beautifully tailored black suit with hand-stitched baroque detailing. Oddly, he found himself wondering what you would think of it...

“You look like a vampire.”

Taehyung turned at the sound of your voice and was struck, yet again, by how incredibly beautiful you were.

You had chosen to wear white, donning an exquisite gown with delicate pearl beading and a daring sweetheart neckline that molded perfectly to your frame.

If he looked like a vampire, you were surely an angel.

Still…

Angel or not, he couldn’t let that comment pass.

“I think I’m offended.”

“I can’t imagine why. After all, loads of women are attracted to Nosferatu.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed.

“There are so many sexy vampires in popular culture, but you just had to lump me in with the creepy bald one...”

You shrugged playfully.

“I wouldn’t want you to think I was going soft.”

A wicked grin danced over your lips as you strolled past him regally—just as you had many times before...

This time, however, he let his eyes linger a little longer on the view.

Lord have mercy.

“Of course not,” he coughed.

“You’re what?!”

You rolled your eyes.

Tonight had been going rather well.

The two of you formed a mutual unspoken agreement to pretend that your last encounter on the balcony (and on the phone) had never happened and (despite the heated glances you occasionally traded) the bickering and playful banter characteristic of your relationship had all but returned to normal...

Until Taehyung learned of your participation in the evening’s main event.

“I told you, I’m part of the date auction this year.”

“Does your brother know about this?!”

“I didn’t see any reason to bother him with it.” You were suddenly preoccupied with your nails.

“Woman,” Taehyung sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “are you trying to make my life difficult?”

“No, I’m just naturally gifted in that respect.”

You turned and began making your way to the front, but Taehyung was hot on your heels and clearly not ready to let the matter rest.

“I cannot believe you’re actually going through with this! It’s not 1810, you know. We shouldn’t just auction off women for dates—”

“You’re absolutely right, Tae Tae.” You brushed a condescending pat over his cheek. “Nowadays we auction off the men too.”

Then you sauntered off to join the rest of the participating women—and men—backstage, leaving Taehyung to stew about the entire situation from the crowd.

“As you know, all proceeds from tonight’s auction go to fight childhood hunger right here in our city. For legal purposes, I must advise all bidders that you are only bidding on the company of the individual in question.”

Taehyung shook his head. “Jimin is probably going to kill me for this.”

“If you place the winning bid, then you and your date will receive two VIP tickets to the Governor's Winter Wonderland Gala which comes with a variety of amenities including; a luxury limousine service, one of the private and famously romantic Winter Wonderland dinner experiences—”

His eyes fluttered shut. “Jimin is definitely gonna kill me for this.”

“—unlimited free drinks, ten complimentary tickets for each of the grand prize raffles, photos with the Governor and his family, along with many more surprises!”

Taehyung grabbed a champagne flute from a nearby waiter and downed it in one go.

“And now for our first date of the evening! Mr. Jackson Wang!”

Jackson went for a cool six grand because no one was brave enough to outbid his girlfriend.

After him, the beautiful Manoban heiress and her handsome cousin Kim Namjoon went for twelve grand each.

Jung Hoseok started a frenzied bidding war between two young socialites and Mrs. O’Malley. He ended up going to the lovely Ms. Ana Fallon for a staggering twenty thousand dollars.

Taehyung’s own cousin, Kim Seokjin, paid a jaw-dropping twenty-one thousand dollars for Lin Yuna, the young CEO of Lin Cosmetics. (Taehyung made a mental note to ask him about that later.)

Then it was your turn.

“The next lady on our list needs no introduction. The lovely Park Angel has graciously agreed to a date with one lucky bidder tonight! Who will it be? Do I hear ten thousand?”

“Ten thousand.”

Taehyung swung his head toward the first bidder and breathed a sigh of relief.

Tam Martin, one of your best friends and very gay.

“Eleven thousand.”

“Twelve thousand.”

“Fifteen.”

“Sixteen thousand dollars.”

“Seventeen thousand.”

“Eighteen.”

Taehyung was having trouble keeping up with all the bidders. His ears were starting to ring again and a strange unpleasant nausea was building in his stomach.

“Twenty thousand.”

“Twenty-five thousand.”

“Thirty thousand!”

At the sound of the last bidder’s voice, you noticeably paled. Your eyes flew to Taehyung’s and immediately he knew exactly who it was.

Milo.

Before he could even react to the new information, another voice joined the fray.

“Forty thousand.”

Min Yoongi smiled smugly from the other side of the room and even had the audacity to throw you a wink.

You smiled shyly at the young heir’s boldness and Taehyung felt something downright unholy rise up in his chest.

No.

Milo was still bidding.

“Fifty thousand dollars.”

Not her.

“Sixty,” Yoongi countered.

She’s mine.

Suddenly Taehyung was on his feet.

“One hundred thousand dollars!”

The silence in the backseat of your limousine was deafening.

Tension charged the air like an electric current as the significance of the last hour weighed heavily between you.

The spacious luxury vehicle allowed you to sit facing one another. Taehyung’s eyes were focused on his hands, but you were looking at him—letting your mind run wild with speculation.

And hope.

Part of you was still there, on the stage, watching him stand up and bid a fortune for the pleasure of your company.

His gaze was so fierce when he spoke, like an ancient emperor calling out his decree for the people to obey.

You dreamed about him bidding on you when you signed up for the auction (even before Jimin bullied him into accompanying you). You let yourself imagine him speaking out again and again till the others stepped back—

Yet you never dared hope for it.

However, the last several days marked an unexpected turning point in your relationship.

For years, you and he were like magnets with a too-similar charge, but something had shifted irrevocably between you, and somehow your stubborn similarities became opposites that could not resist their attraction.

Kim Taehyung was one of the wealthiest men in the city…

But he didn’t need to buy your heart.

It had always been his, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

He had claimed you tonight—and every single soul in that ballroom knew it.

The next move was yours and you intended to make it.

“Mmm,” you hissed a bit, bringing your hand to rest just below your breasts.

Taehyung’s gaze flew up in concern.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, it’s just that scratch from the earring,” your fingers rubbed gingerly at the spot, drawing his focus to it, “it still stings.”

“Oh… I—” he shook his head, “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

“Do you want to see?”

Taehyung’s eyes rose slowly to yours.

You watched the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he considered your words. Anticipation vibrated through your blood like notes struck on a piano—

Then he nodded...

And you both were lost.

Trembling fingers slid the zipper down the side of your gown. The dress itself was a marvel of physics designed to support you without the need for a bra.

Taehyung drew in an impossibly deep breath as the fabric drifted to your waist, baring the perfect mounds of your breasts to him entirely.

“Here,” you whispered, pointing to a small red mark just under the curve of your left one.

He bit back a moan.

“I—I see. That looks… painful.” His fingers dug into the seat beside him. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

You nodded.

“Kiss it better.”

Taehyung felt the air knock out of his lungs like a sucker punch.

This must have been how Adam felt when Eve offered him the forbidden fruit all those millennia ago.

He knew he shouldn’t—

but he could never deny you.

“Of course.”

You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He looked like a man possessed and you reveled in the power of it.

It was for you.

He wanted you.

Your back arched up the slightest bit, beckoning to him—offering him a taste of what he was so desperately craving.

Touch me… please.

Large palms landed on either side of your thighs, bracing him on the seat beneath you. The tip of his nose teased the delicate line of your collar bone and he swore violently under his breath.

Then his lips were on your skin and your mind went blank.

“Taehyung—“ you moaned.

Hot open-mouthed kisses spread over the soft swell of your breast and you gasped— shuddering helplessly as a fierce wave of pleasure tore through you.

Sweet merciful heavens.

Over the years you imagined a moment like this thousands of times in your head—only to discover now that you had pitifully underestimated both his passion and his skill.

You had dreamed of a quiet fire—but he had unleashed an inferno.

The lewd sounds of his mouth nipping and sucking at your tender flesh filled the small space around you as he poured himself into each obscene contact—stopping briefly to flick his tongue over the taunt peak of your nipple. You trembled breathlessly at the sharp snap of sensation, letting your head fall back against the seat as you buried your fingers in his soft curls.

“T-Tae—”

Finally his mouth fastened over the tiny scratch, and the kiss deepened. You knew what he was doing, what the result of his efforts would be—

He was marking you.

And you wanted it.

Oh how you wanted it.

Suddenly the car took a sharp turn, causing Taehyung to lose his grip on the seat. His arms wrapped around your torso for balance, dragging you fully against him.

“Does it feel better, Angel?” he growled.

You nodded frantically and he nipped at the underside of your breast.

“Speak up.”

“Yes, Taehyung,” you whimpered, “it feels so much better.”

“Mmmm,” he hummed, brushing his mouth along the sensitive column of your neck. “Who knew you could be such a good girl?”

Then his hand came up to grip your chin, turning it so your lips were almost against his—

“Madame. We’ve arrived.”

The driver’s voice cut over your senses like a shard of ice.

Taehyung jerked backward and immediately buried his face in his hands.

Your fingers hastily yanked your dress up and you stumbled out of the car in a daze, letting your feet carry you forward until you collapsed on top of your bed.

Did we just...

You hadn’t even begun to collect your thoughts when your phone buzzed from inside your purse.

1 New Message from: Taehyung 🙄🥴🙈

I need to know you made it safely to your room.

You grinned.

Greedy boy.

Back in the limousine, the boy in question was nervously tapping the corner of his phone against his chin as he waited for your reply.

1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅

Oh? But you saw me walk in… and I’m already in bed.

Taehyung growled in frustration.

She would be a tease.

To: Angel 🤬🥵😅

I tend to worry. Put my mind at ease.

He shook his head.

I have officially gone insane.

The phone buzzed again.

1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅

Well… We can’t have that can we…

Taehyung literally felt the whine tear out of him as he opened the picture.

Your gorgeous body (the body he’d had his hands and mouth on for one glorious minute) was nestled decadently atop a pile of fluffy blue blankets and wrapped in nothing but a tiny silk robe.

The neck gaped open just enough to show off the pretty red marks he left on the delectable curve of your breast.

He groaned, biting down hard on his bottom lip.

To: Angel 🤬🥵😅

That's all I get after I made the pain go away? Good girls send real proof, Angel

The screen lit up again almost immediately.

1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅

Guess I’m not such a good girl after all...

Jimin came tearing through the Kim Manor front gate at precisely 7 AM—only to find Jungkook camped out at the entrance with several outdoor space heaters and a giant mug of hot chocolate.

“He told you not to let me in, didn’t he?”

Jungkook took a long satisfying sip of his cocoa.

“I hope you don’t feel singled out, sir. I’m not allowed to let his mother in either.”

“I need to talk to him.”

“Of course, Mr. Park, let me just pull up his schedule—”

“I need to talk to him now.”

“I’m afraid Mr. Kim is booked solid for the morning.”

Jimin stomped his foot like a petulant child.

“I know he’s up there.”

Jungkook grinned.

“You’re welcome to climb the trellis and check. I promise not to stop you if you make it all the way up.”

“COME DOWN HERE AND FACE ME YOU COWARD!” Jimin shouted at the top of his lungs.

Jungkook took another long pull of his drink.

“Might I inquire as to the reason for your visit today, sir?”

“The reason for my visit,” Jimin yanked out his phone and angrily began typing into the search bar, “is that your boss paid ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS for my sister at a date auction last night and I want to know what the hell is going on between them!”

The article Jimin pulled up (DEVILISH KIM TAEHYUNG BUYS HIMSELF A $100,000 ANGEL) featured an image of the two of you entering the Black and White Ball. Your head was thrown back in laughter and Taehyung was grinning down at you as if you’d personally hung all the stars in the sky for him.

A genuine smile crept over Jungkook’s face as he studied the photograph.

“That’s quite a headline.” He handed Jimin’s phone back. “Have you asked your sister about it?”

“No, I swung by earlier, but she wasn’t home so—” His eyes widened. “Oh my—is she—”

Jimin suddenly took off running for the trellis, and Jungkook scrambled out of his chair to chase him.

“KIM TAEHYUNG IF MY SISTER IS IN THAT ROOM—”

He was already three feet off the ground when Jungkook yanked him back.

“I thought you said I could climb the trellis!”

“Yes,” Jungkook wheezed, “but I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” That trellis is a hundred years old! A few more feet and I’d be scraping you off the antique brickwork!”

Jimin scowled and crossed his arms.

“Are you by any chance open to bribes?”

“Normally yes, but Tae promised to double my Christmas bonus if I didn’t accept them today.”

Jimin continued to eye the trellis speculatively, clearly willing to take his chances. Jungkook sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“Mr. Park, I promise you… He came home alone last night. In fact, they both returned earlier than usual because your sister had a 7 AM finance meeting.” He paused significantly to glance at his watch. “Which is probably where she is right now.”

“Oh… Well.”

Jungkook bit his lip to hold back a snort and Jimin’s eyes narrowed.

“He has to come down eventually.”

“One would think.”

The young Park heir glanced toward Taehyung’s window again just in time to see the man in question dart back behind the curtains.

"I KNOW YOU'RE AWAKE, KIM TAEHYUNG, YOU PHILANDERING SLEAZE BAG!"

Jimin made another jump for the trellis and this time Jungkook caught him in mid-air.

“Sir, I’m sure it was just the maid!”

“It’s not the maid! I’d know that raggedy mop of his anywhere!”

Jungkook was out of breath at this point. Park Jimin might be small, but he was fierce.

“Perhaps it’s best if you took a moment to collect yourself,” he grunted. “There’s a lovely new spa down the street and they sent Taehyung two free deluxe packages.”

Jimin stopped struggling.

“Oh?”

Five minutes later, Jungkook sighed deeply and fished his phone out of his back pocket.

“He’s gone, sir.”

“Excellent work, Jungkook. I never doubted you for a second.”

“However…”

“... However?”

“I had to give him your spa passes.”

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

“Are you headed for a gala or the guillotine?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes.

“I don’t pay extra for commentary.”

“It’s complimentary, sir.”

The Kim heir tugged absently at the material of his absurdly expensive evening wear.

Why do these events always have to be so uncomfortable?

“Seriously, Tae… you seem,” the young aide searched for the right words, “unusually tense.”

Taehyung’s mind flashed back to three nights ago when he had his mouth wrapped around your breast.

“Not at all,” he coughed, loosening the collar of his shirt.

Jungkook bit his lip.

“Is this about Ms. Park, sir?”

The cufflinks Taehyung was attempting to fasten suddenly went flying across the room and hit a lamp.

Both men winced.

“I think that was your grandmother’s.”

Taehyung sighed.

“I admit there have been… some developments.”

Jungkook nodded nonchalantly, trying to disguise the fact that he was internally frothing at the mouth for details.

“... Such as?”

Taehyung gulped.

“It started out rather innocently I suppose…” he cleared his throat, “but there may have been some suggestive photographs.”

“There may have been? Are you not sure?”

Taehyung colored guiltily.

“Well—”

“Do you need me to check for you, sir? I have an art history degree.”

“Absolutely not.”

Jungkook grinned.

“That’s what I thought.”

Taehyung yanked his tie out of the younger man’s hand.

“Things have… escalated a bit.”

“Escalated how?”

I licked her tit in the back of a limo.

“Physically.”

It was everything Jungkook could do to maintain a straight face.

“That’s… shocking.”

“Then why don’t you seem shocked?” Taehyung grumbled.

A small smile played across Jungkook’s lips as he pointedly ignored the elder man’s observation.

“So what are you going to do, sir?”

Taehyung was silent for a long moment.

“I honestly have no idea.”

Watching you walk toward him was an experience.

Taehyung wondered absently if this was how it would be from now on; if for the rest of his life just the sight of you would be enough to scatter his mind and his pulse and even the way he breathed.

Your dress tonight was deadly.

It was a decadent red satin halter that clung to every curve. The truly wicked detail, however, was a daring slit that ran the entire length of your leg.

Taehyung was certain he was going to trip over his own tongue at some point if he looked directly at you for too long.

Oh help.

Memories of your previous encounter flooded his senses. Every second you were getting closer and he didn’t know what to do—what to say.

So he didn’t say anything at all.

Not a word when you reached the bottom of the stairs. Nothing but silence as he opened the door of the limo for you. More silence and no eye contact as he settled into the seat across from yours—

And you tolerated that for about three minutes.

“I never thought I’d see the day when Kim Taehyung didn’t have a comment about something. Perhaps I should mark this down on my calendar.”

The words were lightly spoken, but you were shaking on the inside. The last time the two of you were alone together he had your dress around your waist and you were moaning his name. Now he wasn’t talking and you were torn between panic and irritation.

Taehyung, however, latched onto your passive barb like a lifeline.

“Is that a hint of sarcasm I hear from the benevolent Park Angel?” He grinned. “Surely not.”

“Red is not a particularly angelic color. Perhaps I’m feeling feisty today.”

Taehyung leaned back in his seat and indulged himself in a thorough examination of your outfit. The urge to run his hands over the satin-covered lines of your body was nearly unbearable. He curled his fingers into fists to keep them from doing just that.

She is definitely trying to kill me.

“Should I be worried?”

Now it was your turn to grin.

“I guess we’ll find out.”

The Governor’s Winter Wonderland Gala was by far the most extravagant event of the holiday season. Tickets cost a small fortune and sold out almost immediately.

But it was well worth the price of admission.

Thousands of lights sparkled overhead as you made your way through the great hall of Governor Kim’s mansion.

It was like stepping into a fairytale.

Taehyung couldn’t take his eyes off you. The sheer wonder in your expression was breathtaking.

You were breathtaking.

“Governor Kim, it is such an honor to finally meet you.”

The Governor was a handsome man in his early fifties with a smile that was every bit as lethal as it had been twenty-five years ago.

“The honor is all mine, Ms. Park. I trust my nephew is treating you well.”

Your eyes widened.

“N-nephew?”

Taehyung shrugged.

“I don’t really talk about it much.”

The Governor chuckled and you cleared your throat to cover your nervousness.

“Yes, he’s been a very capable escort.”

“Is that so?” Governor Kim smiled charmingly. “Well if it doesn’t work out, my son Seokjin is still single—”

“Thank you, Uncle. It was lovely to see you as always.”

You squeaked as Taehyung placed his hand firmly on the curve of your back and practically dragged you away.

The Governor just shook his head and laughed.

“Oh kid, you’ve got it bad.”

Everywhere you looked there was beauty.

Whoever planned the gala this year had truly gone above and beyond. Surrounded on all sides by glittering trees and snowy vignettes, it was easy to be swept away in the festive magic of the evening.

All in all (despite some initial awkwardness), you were having a fantastic time...

Until she showed up.

“Kim Taehyung! Is that you?”

Every single hair on your body stood on end, but before you could determine the source of the shrill squealing, you found yourself being nudged aside by a blinding golden gown and some very high heels.

“Aubrey,” Taehyung grunted as five-and-half feet of gorgeous wrapped herself around him like a clinging vine. “Long time no see.”

“Not since that vacation in Aspen,” she giggled. “We had quite a time, didn’t we Tae Tae!”

Suddenly you had the most unholy urge to slap the spray tan right off this woman.

Instead, you plastered on a vibrant smile and placed your hand on Taehyung’s sleeve.

“Um. Excuse me, Tae Tae, perhaps you could introduce us?”

Taehyung looked as if he’d just been served raw fire ants for dinner.

“Yes. Of course. This is—”

“Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine,” she interrupted with a smug little smirk. “Taehyung and I go way back.” Her expression grew just the slightest bit tighter. “And you are?”

“His date,” you deadpanned.

“Aubrey,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “I’d like you to meet Ms. Park she’s—”

“Oh my goodness! You’re Jimin’s little sister aren't you!” Aubrey slapped her hand over his chest and he winced. “That is so precious of you to take her around like this!”

Your eyebrows raised right up into your hairline and Taehyung groaned.

“Yes, he was kind enough to sign me out of the nursery for the evening.” You offered them both a painfully vacant nod. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I see one of my play-dates near the buffet.”

Then you turned on your heel and sauntered off without another word.

Taehyung moved to follow you, but Aubrey curled her fingers into the crook of his arm and pulled him back.

“Oh let her go, Tae. You and I have so much catching up to do.”

Taehyung pointedly removed her hand from his elbow.

“Some other time perhaps.”

Aubrey pouted prettily.

“You’re not running off after her are you? She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.”

Taehyung crossed his arms and fixed her with a knowing look.

“Funny... that’s not what you were implying a moment ago.”

“A moment ago I didn’t have you all to myself. Now I do.” She had the decency to blush. “Perhaps I got a bit jealous.”

“You don’t say.” His eyes continued to search the crowd for any sign of you.

“It seems I had good reason to be,” she murmured quietly.

“Aubrey... Listen I—”

She cut him off with a finger to his lips.

“Don’t bother Tae Tae. I’m petty, but I’ve never been pathetic.”

He grinned.

“Never.”

The lady sighed and gave him a heated once over.

“What a shame.”

Then she strolled off with a rueful smile.

“You know what I don’t understand?”

You turn to find Min Yoongi leaning casually against a nearby column. He looked absurdly handsome as always, but his grin was just the slightest bit mischievous.

“What don’t you understand, Mr. Min?”

The question was clearly a bait, but you were still fuming from your earlier encounter with Ms. St. Valentine and therefore desperately in need of a distraction.

Yoongi pushed off the column and lazily made his way toward you.

“I don’t understand how a man pays a hundred thousand dollars for an evening with the most beautiful woman in the city, and then leaves her all by herself.” He leaned forward with a playful grin. “Perhaps you could enlighten me?”

Oh he’s good.

You made a show of tapping your chin thoughtfully.

“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that one.”

Yoongi sighed and shook his head.

“Couldn’t be me.”

You laughed then. He really was a delightful man. In fact, if you still had your heart, you might have considered letting him take a shot at it.

Alas.

You tilted your head speculatively.

Surely there was no need to brush away good company...

After all, no one else is interested in spending time with me.

“Since my escort is otherwise occupied, perhaps you could join me for dinner?”

Yoongi held out his hand.

“I’d be delighted.”

Taehyung wandered around the mansion for nearly forty-five minutes looking for his date.

Panic was just starting to build in his chest when he finally spotted you

—at his private dining table with Min Yoongi.

It was everything he could do not to storm over and yank the other man out of his seat by the lapels.

Alright, Angel. If this is the game you want to play… then let’s play.

Taehyung felt his anger rise with every step, but he ruthlessly suppressed any sign of it and instead adopted a charming smile.

“Min, I didn’t expect to find you here. What a… delightful surprise.”

Yoongi’s expression was just a shade too satisfied. Taehyung could already feel his blood pressure beginning to skyrocket.

“Yes, Ms. Park believed that you were otherwise occupied and invited me to share the meal with her.”

“I see,” Taehyung practically snarled. “However,” his gaze landed heavily on you, “since I paid for this table, I hope you won’t mind if I join you as well?”

You avoided looking at him up to this point, but now you were choking on your wine

“Easy there, Angel,” Taehyung murmured as he pulled up a seat extremely close to yours—so close that your thighs were nearly touching.

Oh boy.

Over the next several minutes Yoongi continued to flirt openly and you continued to smile prettily and pretend Taehyung wasn’t there (which naturally infuriated him).

You should have known he wouldn’t let you get away with such behavior so easily.

This was Kim Taehyung, after all, and if there was anything that could be counted on when it came to your shared history, it was that one (or both) of you was always ready to escalate.

You had just offered the young Min heir yet another flowery compliment when you felt Taehyung make his move.

Two warm fingers slid under the silken slit of your dress, coming to rest possessively over the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

You squeaked and nearly spat up your drink.

Taehyung leaned forward in fake concern, wrapping his arm around you as if to offer aid.

“Are you alright?”

His hand continued to move significantly beneath your gown, but his face was the picture of innocence.

You glared.

“Just fine, thank you.”

A slow grin crept across his features as he began to trace soft intimate patterns over your skin.

On the other side of the table, Yoongi tilted his head in genuine solicitude. “Are you sure?”

You nodded sharply.

Satisfied, he resumed speaking about whatever it was he’d been saying—though you couldn’t understand a word of it at this point because the torturous strokes Taehyung was leisurely drawing over your thighs were moving closer to your center with each passing second.

Yet you made no move to stop him.

You should have.

You should have slapped his touch away—rebuked him for his boldness—

But you didn’t.

So he just kept nodding and smiling while Yoongi spoke, even as his fingers teased you with the maddening persistence of a man who knew very well what he was doing.

You gasped aloud when he finally brushed the pad of his thumb over the thin cotton of your panties.

“T-Taehyung—”

“Hmm?” he turned to you, seemingly surprised by your attention (it was—after all—the first time you’d addressed him since the beginning of the meal).

“Could you pass me the salt,” you sputtered (hoping to cover the fact that you moaned his name involuntarily). Unfortunately, Taehyung seemed wholly aware of your ruse, offering you the salt shaker with a superior smirk.

You seriously considered stabbing him with a fork.

However, before you could carry out any bloodthirsty plans, he pressed his fingers directly over your clit and your eyes rolled back in your head

“Oh my g—” you bit your lip stubbornly, “this lamb is just so good.”

Sweet mother of macaroons, he is too skilled at this.

You shoveled another bite into your mouth to cover your whine as Taehyung began to rub tight little circles over your sweet spot.

Across the table, Yoongi nodded in blissful unawareness.

“Yes, I agree, the lamb is excellent—very tender.”

Taehyung took advantage of the momentary distraction to slip beneath the fabric of your undergarment.

Your fork clattered to your plate and your hand came up to cover your mouth as he began running his fingers up and down your soaked slit.

It was everything you could do to hold back your depraved whimpering.

“I can’t wait to taste it,” Taehyung replied, flicking your clit in a way that guaranteed he wasn’t referring to the lamb.

At this point Yoongi seemed to notice you were in some sort of distress. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and leaned forward.

“Ms. Park, are you well?”

Taehyung chose that moment to sink his finger into the welcoming heat of your pussy.

“Yes,” you almost sobbed, “I’m-I’m very well—thank you.”

“Excellent,” Yoongi smiled as he rose to his feet. “If you’re feeling up to it, perhaps you could favor me with a dance?”

Several attendees were already making their way to the center of the floor and the orchestra was beginning to play.

Your entire body, however, was vibrating like a plucked harp string and Taehyung was still brushing back and forth against your clit, driving you toward a release that promised to be explosive.

There was no way—simply no way—that you would be capable of hiding it.

“Yes! I would love to dance with you,” you squeaked, grabbing hold of Taehyung’s wrist frantically. The feel of him pulling out of your sopping core was nearly enough to have you coming right there.

Thankfully, Yoongi remained utterly oblivious to the debauchery unfolding beneath the table. He took your hand and helped you to your feet with an eager smile (and it was a good thing too because your legs were still shaking).

When the two of you reached the dance floor, you turned back for the briefest instant—

just long enough to meet Taehyung’s heated gaze as his lips closed over the finger he buried in your cunt.

Emotions were a funny thing.

They impacted your judgement, affected your body, altered your behavior…

And occasionally eroded your common sense.

Sitting alone in the corner of the Governor’s ballroom, Kim Taehyung found himself experiencing a full spectrum of emotional side-effects.

His hands clenched as he watched Min Yoongi spin you around the floor.

His heart pounded every time he caught a flash of your shapely leg peeking through the slit in your gown.

His blood boiled when you threw your head back and laughed at something the other man said.

It was difficult to pinpoint which emotion was to blame for each of these reactions. There were certainly a number of them boiling over in his subconscious.

Frustration—

I didn’t even want to talk to Aubrey! How are you acting like anything she said was my fault?!

Rage—

Why is challenging people to duels illegal? I would fight Min Yoongi at dawn. I would fight Min Yoongi now.

Jealousy—

You asked her to dance while my fingers were in her pussy. We are not the same.

But perhaps the most persistent—the most overwhelming— emotion twisting through him was longing.

You and Taehyung spent nearly four years apart, and he was so desperate to be near you—even then—that he resorted to childish pranks in order to remain a part of your life.

He hadn’t recognized his actions or desires for what they were. He hadn’t realized what you meant to him...

But now, after spending the last several days with your hand on his arm and your laughter in his ear, he could no longer imagine spending another moment without you.

Everything seemed to crystallize as he watched you laughing and dancing in the arms of another man.

Uncertainty became clear. Complications became simple.

And when he saw Min Yoongi’s hand slide dangerously close to the perfect swell of your backside—

Emotion became action.

“Mind if I cut in?”

It wasn’t a question really. Taehyung was already shouldering his rival out of the way and pulling you into his arms.

“Taehyung,” you hissed, shooting the bewildered Yoongi an apologetic look over his shoulder, “what are you doing? This is so rude—”

“You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, sweeping you through the couples on the floor with practiced ease. “It is unpardonably rude to steal someone else’s date. He’s lucky all I did was steal you back.”

Your mouth dropped open.

“Oh? So you finally remembered that I was your date?”

Taehyung’s grip on the curve of your waist became a shade rougher as he pulled you through the next turn.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means—” you stepped forward vigorously, nearly smashing your body into his, “—that you spent forty-five minutes with Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine when you were supposed to be having dinner with me!”

Taehyung growled and yanked you flush against him.

“I spent forty-five minutes looking for you while you were giving away my table to Min Yoongi!”

The two of you sailed through the next several movements glaring at one another before you snapped again.

“None of this would have happened if you had just told Aubrey St. Spray Tan that you were with me—”

“I did!”

“Instead, you let her call me a baby!”

“What let? Aubrey is a grown woman!”

“But—”

“And—you stormed off before I could say anything, so how would you know what I let?”

“You didn’t come after me!”

“Yes actually I did—but she grabbed my arm!”

“Really? Well what else did she grab?”

Taehyung abruptly realized how silent everything around you had become.

People were staring—and not even discreetly— just full on staring with their mouths hanging open.

Well that’s great.

Taehyung’s hand closed around yours and you suddenly found yourself being marched across the dance floor at a breakneck pace.

“What are you doing?”

“Continuing this discussion in private.”

“We can’t just go somewhere private in the Governor’s mansion!” you sputtered, struggling to keep up with his larger strides.

“You mean in my uncle’s house? Yes—actually we can—and we will.”

Taehyung proved to be a man of his word, dragging you past two security guards and into the roped off section of the manor with nothing more than a nod.

The residential wing of the Governor’s home was beautifully decorated with traditional Korean artistic touches—all of which you were unable to appreciate while Taehyung was speed walking you through the halls.

After a surprising amount of turns and archways, he yanked open an ornate wooden door with the words Reflection Suite written on a plaque above it in beautiful calligraphy.

You almost giggled when you got a look inside.

On the surface it was a tastefully furnished guest room with a simple cherry wood desk and a cozy double bed set in an elegant matching frame.

However—

The ceiling and one full wall were nothing but massive mirrors.

Reflection suite indeed.

The door slammed shut and Taehyung rounded on you with a stormy expression—though you weren’t waiting on him to fire the first volley.

“This is definitely going to get us in trouble.”

“I told you, I can go wherever I want in this house. It’s fine.”

“Then why did you take us here?”

“Because you were shouting—”

“I was shouting?! You were shouting I just—”

Suddenly your back was against the wall and Taehyung’s mouth was on yours.

He hadn’t brought you here for this. When he grabbed your hand, he was only trying to get away from the crowds. He told himself that he needed privacy so you could talk—so he could clarify things.

But the minute the door closed and you flared up again in all your magnificent rage, he was lost.

He had to kiss you then.

You were so lovely. So fierce. So wildly irresistible and he was too utterly smitten to fight the need to be near you—to be with you in every way that he could—for a single second more.

The shock of Kim Taehyung pressing his lips to yours lasted about two full seconds—and then there was nothing but ravenous insatiable need.

Finally.

Everything was him.

Everything was this—this sweet indescribable ignition of a desire that spanned years. You moaned eagerly against his mouth in wanton delight. After a decade of sparks, you were more than ready to burn.

“Taehyung—”

His name poured out of you like a prayer. You needed him everywhere and miraculously he seemed to understand—

Not that he was prepared to be polite about it.

“Where’s that smart mouth now, Angel?” he growled, tangling his hands in your hair to expose the tender column of your throat. “Nothing to say?”

Your only answer was a desperate whine as he spread hot-open mouthed kisses down the soft skin of your neck all the way to your collarbone.

Now was not the time for patience. He would be tender with you later. You absolutely deserved soft sweet caresses and slow leisurely love making and he was absolutely going to give them to you—every day if you’d let him.

But not today.

The minute his mouth encountered the barrier of your dress, he gripped onto the sides and yanked it down to your waist.

“You knew just what you were doing in the back of that limo, you little brat,” he hissed, taking one swollen nipple into his mouth and tormenting it with his tongue.

“Tae-ahhh!” Your back arched involuntarily in ruthless pleasure.

“I spent hours—days even—wanting to get my hands on these perfect tits.” He licked the other nipple obscenely, squeezing the soft mound till it bulged through his fingers. “And you offered me the barest taste with that coy little grin, knowing it wouldn’t be enough—”

He reared back and landed a firm slap on both breasts and you screamed.

It was so so good.

“Look at them now,” he murmured, “so swollen and needy and mine.”

If any other man had said those words, you would have cut his heart out with a butter knife.

But you had always belonged to this man body and soul, and to hear him acknowledge it so primitively felt like the sweetest vindication.

“Yes!” you sobbed.

The affirmation only inflamed him further. He teased and fondled the tender flesh till you were shaking.

Your fingers curled into the soft waves of his hair as he indulged himself. He looked so ridiculously good sucking your nipple, moaning lewdly with his eyes pressed shut in cathartic bliss.

“This is all your fault, Angel,” he groaned. “You just don’t know how to behave.”

His hands gripped the curve of your backside, lifting you right off the floor and into his arms. Your mouths fused together heatedly as he carried you to the bed, and you giggled against him when his words finally processed.

“You’ve been saying that for years.”

“It’s been true for years,” he muttered, pulling one of your legs up around him so he could grind against your cunt while you kissed.

Your fingers tugged at the buttons of his shirt, tearing them off when they didn’t unhook fast enough. You waited too long to be with him like this to care about anything other than the feel of his skin against your own.

“Impatient, are we?” he chuckled, bringing his lips around to nip at your ear.

“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, yanking the ruined garment right off his shoulder just so you could sink your teeth into it.

Taehyung moaned loudly, snapping his hips against yours with an involuntary jerk.

“You really are such a brat,” he hissed, fisting his hands in the satin length of your skirt. “Let’s see how fierce you are with my tongue in your pussy—”

His words were so filthy and raw, yet they stoked a frenzied need in your belly like nothing you had ever encountered.

“This dress is evil,” he snarled, fumbling with the zipper for a moment before switching to a more destructive tactic. “It has tormented me all night and now it’s in my way.”

The stitching proved no match for his resolve, and—after a few vigorous tugs—he ripped it apart from the slit on up, leaving you covered in nothing but the thin cotton underwear he had breached earlier that evening.

After disposing of your shredded gown, Taehyung paused for a moment just to take in the sight of you.

“What a perfect little angel,” he taunted playfully, snapping the band of your lingerie against your hips with a cocky grin.

Then he brushed his nose right up against the sopping fabric and inhaled deeply. “You smell just like heaven,” he growled before licking you right through the cloth, “and you taste even better.”

The sensations twisting through your body were merciless. You needed more or you were going to shake apart.

“Taehyung please,” you whined, pressing against him shamelessly.

“Oh a please?” he chuckled, throwing your own words from the first night back at you. “Who knew you had manners?”

You would have screamed in frustration, but he cut you off with an open mouthed kiss right over the wettest part of your panties.

“Perhaps I can make a good girl of you yet,” he chuckled, as you opened yourself wider to encourage him.

You nodded frantically, letting out another moan when he yanked the flimsy little scrap of lace down your legs—smearing a line of arousal over your thighs.

“So messy,” he tsked, tapping his finger right above your knee where the naughty little streak ended. “What am I going to do with you?”

Then he pressed his tongue over the shiny trail of slick and licked it right off.

You gasped loudly and his lascivious smirk was almost beautiful enough to make up for all of the shameless teasing.

Almost.

"You want my mouth, pretty Angel?” he whispered, letting the words brush maddeningly against your folds. “You want me to feed on this sweet little cunt?”

Every cell in your body cried out for release. He already edged you under the table at dinner and now he was determined to unravel you entirely. You would say anything—do anything.

"Please—" you whispered.

"Please who?"

Normally you met his arrogance with a cutting riposte, but an entire evening of methodical torment had left you beyond desperate.

"Please Taehyung,” you begged needily.

He grinned.

“That’s right, Angel. Kim Taehyung. Not Min Yoongi or any other pathetic trust fund prick that’s panting for a taste of this pussy.” His eyes fastened on yours significantly. “You belong to me.”

Then his tongue licked a flat stripe over your glistening slit and you sagged onto the bed in relief—only to be thrown back into oblivion when his lips closed over your clit.

Your body arched involuntarily as a ruthless wave of pleasure tore through you. Your eyes and mouth flew open in a silent scream and it was in that moment you remembered exactly where you were.

Underneath a giant mirror.

The passionate woman staring down at you was nearly unrecognizable. Her body was littered with her lover’s marks. Her hands gripped feverishly into the sheets beneath her—-

And Kim Taehyung was kneeling between her thighs, suckling on her weeping cunt with obscene satisfaction.

It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your life.

Your hands reached down to tangle in his hair, using it for leverage as you ground against his face.

Then suddenly his grip on your legs tightened and his tongue plunged roughly into your trembling core.

“Tae—ahh oh my—I can’t—”

The sensation was so intense that your hips bucked violently. You could not keep still. You were charging towards an explosion and your body was shaking itself apart.

The noises tearing from you were incoherent. Everything around you focused in on the juncture of your thighs where Taehyung was licking inside of you again and again until—

You shattered.

And the force of it nearly bent your back in half.

Delirious sobs poured from your lips as he worked you through it, letting the obscene flood of your cum soak his face.

The sight of him slowly lapping at the release between your folds, was unspeakably erotic. He ran his hands in soothing circles over your skin while you twitched and fluttered back down from your high.

Then he was kissing you again.

It was softer this time, but you felt truly depraved—and instantly obsessed—with the taste of yourself in his mouth—on his skin.

You could barely understand this ravenous hunger. You’d just found relief, yet you were already reaching for more.

Your hands snaked down and wrapped around his still covered cock and he hissed in ragged pleasure.

“So eager,” he gasped, as you pushed him back against the headboard—but you didn’t have time to bother with his teasing.

You were gonna blow Kim Taehyung into space.

He bit his lip when you yanked down his pants and boxers together, freeing his arousal with stunning efficiency.

It was almost unfair to discover that his cock was every bit as beautiful as he was.

“Of course,” you muttered.

The sultry smirk he shot you in return had your cunt flooding all over again.

“You think Min Yoongi has a cock like mine?”

“I don’t think about Min Yoongi’s cock,” you retorted, wrapping your hand around his length, “you’ve always been the biggest dick I’ve ever met.”

“I knew you thought about my dick,” he groaned as you began to work up and down the swollen shaft.

After a moment, his hand slid over your chin to grip your hair, drawing you forward till your lips were almost touching.

“I wonder what this pretty mouth can do,” he whispered.

You gasped against him and he smiled.

“Do you know how often I pictured your lips around my cock, Angel?”

You mewled shamelessly and he growled, cupping your cheek as your hands continued to service him.

“Do you know how often I imagined this perfect throat stuffed full of my cum?”

His palm slid down to lightly grip the soft flesh of your neck and you shuddered against him with a needy whimper.

“I know you could suck me so good, Angel. I’ve wanted it for so so long...”

Your mouth actually watered with anticipation.

The desire to be good for him—to give him whatever he asked for—consumed you.

Taehyung let his head fall back against the headboard with a groan at the first brush of your lips along his shaft. His hips rutted involuntarily as your tongue wrapped around the tip and you hummed with pleasure at his enthusiastic response.

After a moment you slid him into the welcoming heat of your mouth, taking him in as far as you could in one stroke. His jaw dropped open and his entire body jerked forward.

“Yes, that’s it, Angel—feels so good.”

His praise was addictive.

You loved that you could bring him to this. You loved to see the haughty Kim Taehyung coming apart as you sucked him.

It made you feel beautiful—powerful even—and you reveled in every second of it.

Your eyes were starting to tear. His length began to throb and pulse against your tongue and you knew he was close—so close you could almost taste him—

Yet suddenly he was pulling you back and you whined pitifully at the loss.

Taehyung chuckled, dragging you toward him till your dripping core slid across his cock.

“I’m not coming before I get inside that pretty little pussy,” he swore, working your hips over his sex till it was drenched in arousal.

The crass words filled you with the fiercest, most incredible want and you clenched reflexively against him in response.

“Is that what you want?” Taehyung whispered as he bore you back into the mattress, pinning both your wrists above your head. “You want me to fill your empty little cunt?”

You did.

You wanted it so so bad.

“Please.”

Taehyung gently lowered himself closer to you, resting his forehead intimately against yours as he lined up his cock at your entrance.

“Are you sure, Angel? Because there’s no going back after this... If you give yourself to me, then you’re mine—and I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you.”

“Taehyung, you idiot,”—a tender smile spread over your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck—“... I’ve always been yours.”

He swore violently—letting the slight tremble in his voice betray just how deeply your words affected him.

Then his fingers tightened on the soft flesh of your hip and he filled you to the hilt with one delicious thrust.

There was a moment—the smallest space in time—where your eyes locked together and everything seemed to suspend; a strange perfect calm before a monumental storm.

Then your world caught fire.

Taehyung drove himself into you with passionate fury, letting years of denial fuel the insatiable rhythm of his strokes.

Every time he told himself no. Every time he held himself back—

Every bit of it burned away as you screamed his name.

The feel of him was indescribable.

You imagined it too many times to count, yet your dreams fell pitifully short of the visceral reality.

He was bloomin’ magnificent.

Your fingers clawed up and down his back, desperate to hold on to something while he pounded into your g-spot like an animal.

“This tiny cunt is the tightest thing I’ve ever had around my cock,” he gasped and you whined needily at his praise. “Like it was made for me—” his hand came up to grip your breast, “like you were made for me.”

“Yes—”

Taehyung’s need seemed to amplify with every whimper and moan that fell from your lips. The feelings you sparked in him were fierce and unapologetically primitive.

He would go to war for you—build a fortress for you—fight a dragon if one dared come close.

You were his.

And he felt like a savage every time you cried out for more.

Suddenly an unexpected movement in his periphery caught his attention.

He’d been so consumed with the extraordinary rush of claiming you that he’d forgotten—

This guest room was thirty-five percent mirrors.

And now… he couldn’t look away.

The sight of your bodies tangling together in headless bliss played out before him like a scene from his most debauched and forbidden fantasies. His reflection grinned back at him in fascinated ecstasy while his beloved nemesis lost herself in the pleasure of his cock.

Something dark and wild began to burn in his chest as he studied the lovers in the glass.

“Look at you, Angel,” he whispered softly, “you really are perfect.”

Then he pulled out of your core and you whined bitterly in protest, chasing his body to rid yourself of the sudden unacceptable emptiness.

“Still so needy,” he taunted, gripping your hips and flipping you on your stomach before you could even think to protest.

“I want you to watch that pretty angel in the mirror come on my cock,” he groaned, plunging back into you from behind.

The new angle was somehow impossibly deeper and your body shook as another wave of pleasure overtook it.

Your fingers clawed into the mattress for purchase as he pistoned into your trembling mound.

Only Kim Taehyung could rail you like a whore while he worshiped you like a queen.

He gave you a moment to adjust before drawing your body back against his chest. His arm wrapped over your stomach as he slowly eased your legs apart, unfolding the lewd tableau of your bodies joined together for the voyeuristic gaze of the glass.

“Look at yourself, Angel,” he growled, mesmerized by the way your breasts bounced with every thrust. “Look at how well you're taking me.”

Then his fingers slid down to rub your clit and you screamed.

“Tae! Ah-ahh!”

The pleasure building within you now was violent. You were coiling too tightly, too fast—

“That’s right Angel. Take it all.”

Your eyes locked with his in the mirror for the briefest instant.

And then you flew apart.

Taehyung threw his head back with a carnal moan as you clamped down around him. His body was hurtling toward its own release with reckless speed.

“I’m close,” he panted, “where can I come?”

“Come inside me please,” you begged, and Taehyung’s eyes widened in frenzied lust.

“That’s what you want? Huh?” his thrusts became rougher as he chased his relief, “You want me to fill this puffy little pussy with my cum?”

“Yes, I want it so bad—“ you sobbed.

“Sweet Angel,” he groaned, gripping at your breasts as he pulled you tighter against him.

Then he met your gaze in the mirror again.

“I want everything with you; a home—a family—your body in my arms every morning when I wake up—” his voice trembled, “I want it all.”

The raw vulnerability in his eyes nearly broke you.

“Tae,” you gasped softly, too overcome with joy to manage anything else.

His mouth pressed hungrily against the curve of your shoulder. You could feel his cock throbbing in your core as he bent you forward, pounding into your sex with exquisite precision.

"Stay with me, Angel,” he whispered. His thrusts became erratic as he neared his high. “I don’t want to live without you anymore.”

The glorious thrill of his words tore over your senses with euphoric brutality. Your walls tightened greedily around his cock and the taunt cord of pleasure finally snapped.

He came with a broken groan, flooding the welcoming heat of your womb with his release.

“KIM TAEHYUNG!”

The sound of his name being shouted by the absolute last person in the world whose voice he wanted to hear woke Taehyung from a dead sleep.

His eyes widened in panic as he began yanking pillows and covers from all over the bed in a frenzied attempt to hide—

The doors to his bedroom flew open with a resounding crash.

“Jimin,” he squeaked, trying to look as casual as possible next to a giant pile of bedding. “What uh—what brings you here at—” his eyes darted to the clock on the wall, “—7:30 in the morning?”

Then he frowned.

“And how the hell did you get past Jungkook?”

Jimin’s murderous expression broke momentarily to allow for a smug grin.

“Kendra.”

Kendra Jackson was Jimin’s executive aide. She was fierce, capable, intelligent—

And insanely gorgeous.

Taehyung groaned.

Poor Jungkookie never stood a chance.

To the surprise of absolutely no one, yet another newspaper landed on Taehyung’s lap.

KIM HEIR BRINGS NAUGHTY ANGEL HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

Underneath the headline was a picture of you and Taehyung (dressed in clothes you stole from Jin’s childhood bedroom) kissing passionately against the side entrance of the Governor’s mansion.

One of your legs was wrapped around his waist and he was clearly grabbing your ass.

“Ah… well you see the camera distorts everything from this angle—and-and the lighting is bad so it’s not really what it looks like—”

“Is that so? Cause it looks like you’ve got your tongue down my baby sister’s throat!”

“Okay—okay,” Taehyung massaged his forehead nervously, “so maybe it’s sort of what it looks like but—”

“I’ll kill you.”

“No wait—” he held up his hands to delay an already advancing Jimin.

“Why should I wait?!”

“Because—”

“—I trusted you with the most important person in the world to me—”

“The situation is just not that simple.”

“—and you grabbed her ass in public!”

“Admittedly not my finest hour.”

“So you tell me right now—”

“But you don’t understand it’s—”

“—Why the hell would I wait?!”

“BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH HER!”

For a moment there was absolute silence.

Then your head popped out from the massive pile of bedding.

“Really?”

Jimin’s mouth fell open.

Taehyung groaned again.

“As usual, your timing is impeccable.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment.

“Are you really in love with me?”

“Of course I’m in love with you! What part of I want you to have my children did you not understand?!”

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jimin choked.

“That’s not the same thing!”

“It is for me!”

A radiant smile lit up your face.

“I’m in love with you too.”

Taehyung’s expression softened.

“Angel I—”

Then you were kissing and Jimin swung around with a horrified shout.

“Oh! No no no—Come on!”

He stumbled out of the room, hands firmly clamped over his eyes.

“This is not over, Kim Taehyung!” the scandalized young Park heir howled in exasperation… but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Back in the bedroom, Taehyung shook his head at Jimin’s ridiculous caterwauling.

“No, it’s not over,” he laughed, pulling you deeper into the comfort of his arms. “It’s only just begun.”

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story.

This baby took FOR-EVER to write. I started it in November and literally worked on it a little every day.

If you enjoyed it— even just a tiny bit—please consider taking a moment to leave me some feedback. It is so incredibly uplifting and rewarding to hear reader thoughts and reactions to my work.

I promise to treasure every word like gold. It took a lot to bring this story to life. Your kind words would mean the world to me.

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writethelifeyouwant · 3 years

Text

Everything's Bigger In Texas

Summary: You decide to drive up to Dallas to surprise your old high school buddy, Jared, while he’s there for a convention.

Pairing: Jared x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: J2 convention hilarity, dick jokes, only one bed, high school friends, spooning, size kink Word Count: 3,504 Bingo Squares: @spnkinkbingo - Size Kink

A/N: Not set around any particular season. For the purpose of this story, Jared and Jensen are both single, non-fathers.

Commissioned by: @jbbarnesgirl She had a great prompt that this has now spawned a sequel (which will be a member exclusive on my website)! Thanks for letting my mind run wild on this one babe ❤️

You pull into the parking space the valet wrote on your ticket and park with a dramatic exhale of relief. You’ve actually gone through with it and made the three hour drive up to Dallas to surprise Jared at his convention this weekend.

It had been years since your last high school reunion in Austin when you’d run into each other and wound up drunk in a Waffle House at three in the morning, stuffing your faces with bacon and french fries. You and he were the kind of friends that were awful at keeping in touch but time traveled straight back to junior year anytime you ran into each other. You’ve always been able to talk and laugh like only a weekend had passed between visits instead of years.

You hope Jared’s happy to see you, because you’ve been bursting at the seams with excitement since you came up with your ‘surprise’ plan.

The hotel lobby is swarming with fans and you wonder how on earth you’re going to find Jared in all the bustle. Your plan is to find someone who looks like they’re working the convention and ask for directions to Jared and Jensen’s bodyguard, Clif, who you hope to God remembers dropping your drunk ass off at your apartment after the Waffle House incident. It’s not a very elegant plan but it’s all you’ve got. You spot someone with a lanyard and a walkie-talkie and beeline toward them, fingers crossed in your pocket.

Twenty minutes and several tiers up the convention staff hierarchy later you’re finally led to a service hallway and ushered towards a door, Clif standing guard stoically outside it. The employee escorting you speaks quietly to Clif while you stand there awkwardly, rocking back and forth, toes to heel, in an effort to contain your nervous energy. A look of recognition slowly dawns across the bodyguard’s face as he takes another look at you.

“Austin, a couple years ago?” he asks to confirm.

“High school reunion,” you nod in affirmation, relieved he actually does remember you.

“No getting Jared drunk until after the panel,” Clif admonishes, aiming a thick finger menacingly at your face, and you nod gravely before his face cracks into a grin and he swings the door behind him back on its hinges.

“Y/N?!” Jared’s facing the door and spots you immediately, his face breaking into a wide smile. The anxiety that had solidified in your chest with each passing mile on your way here disintegrates, carrying the tension out of your body as it melts away.

“Hey there, Hot Shot.”

Jared bounds forward and wraps you tightly in a hug, the muscles in his arms visibly bulging the sleeves of his t-shirt as he squeezes you against him, which you can’t help but notice because your eye level is at his bicep. You hug him back as tightly as you can manage, pressing your cheek into his chest.

“How ya doin’, squirt?” Jared grabs your shoulders and manhandles you away from him so he can get a better look at you, his eyes racing up and down your figure. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, Dallas is only a three hour drive,” you shrug. It’s no big deal really, you’d just wanted to see him. “Plus my mom cancelled our girls’ weekend, so I had nothing better to do,” you grin, your eyes twinkling up at him wryly. Behind you, you hear Jensen snort with laughter. Jared turns to his friend, giving him a withering look and Jensen chokes back another laugh, unable to hide his amusement.

“Dude, you were her back-up plan after her mom?”

“Shut up,” Jared rolls his eyes but you join in Jensen’s giggles.

“I’m Jensen, by the way,” the man in question raises a hand in greeting, and you smile back.

“Y/N,” you wave. “Went to high school with this nut case,” you jerk your thumb towards Jared.

“Feels like I do too,” Jensen laughs. “He still acts like he’s fourteen most of the time.”

“Hey!” Jared points an accusing finger at Jensen, “at least fifteen, thank you very much.”

“And what exactly is the distinction between fourteen and fifteen here, Jay?” he asks.

“He doesn’t pop a boner every time he talks to a girl anymore?” you offer, snickering. Jensen bursts out laughing, a full bellied, joyous sound that fills out every corner of the room. Jared is rolling his eyes again, but you spy the faint blush that’s started to creep up his neck, and based on the smirk Jensen’s wearing, you think he’s spotted it too.

“So,” Jared draws out the syllable, trying to change the topic. “Are you staying for the convention then?”

“Got my ticket and everything,” you wave your pass in the air. “But mainly I just wanted to see you, it’s been way too long.”

“Yeah, it has,” Jared squeezes your arm affectionately. “Where’s your seat? I think we’re getting called out soon.”

“Oh I’m with the plebs at the back, standing room. Seeing your ass is only worth so much money,” you tease.

“You’re standing?” Jared’s brow shoots up. “You won’t be able to see a damn thing,” he laughs.

“You’re tall enough to see from space, Bigfoot,” you try to hit him on the head but he easily stretches his neck so you can’t reach, illustrating your point.

“She’s gotcha there, J-Rod,” Jensen agrees, strolling forwards and smacking Jared on the back of the head for you, since your attempt was foiled. “But you don’t have to stand all the way back there, sweetheart,” Jensen adds. “Come out with us, we’ll have someone put you at the side of the stage.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I really don’t mind standing,” you protest. You didn’t want to take space away from the fans who had paid for the close seats. You’re only a casual watcher of the show anyways, ghosts and monsters aren’t so much your thing, you just watch it because of Jared.

“Nah, c’mon,” Jared ignores your protest, striding back towards the door and popping his head out to talk to Clif. “Can you have them slap an extra chair on the side of the stage? Y/N’s gonna stick around for the panel.”

“Sure thing,” Clif nods, and radioes a volunteer to get it done.

“Jared,” you roll your eyes at your friend.

“Too late,” he taunts. “You’re stuck with the fangirls now.”

“Just keep in mind all the shit I could tell them,” you threaten jokingly.

“Nah, you won’t do that.” Jared’s entirely unconcerned.

“Why not?”

“Because then I won’t pay for our drinks tab later,” he smirks.

You mime turning a lock and throwing away the key. “My lips are sealed.”

“You better tell me later though, sweetheart,” Jensen ducks his head to whisper in your ear as they usher you out the door.

“Buy me a couple cosmos, you can know anything you want,” you smirk, and let Jensen and Jared guide you out to the convention hall for their panel.

“I will definitely take you up on that,” Jensen’s breath ghosts ticklishly over your ear. He shoots you a wink as he ducks behind a dividing curtain and you wave back giggling, and make your way to the seat Clif is pointing you towards.

The panel is a whole lot of fun, and you have to admit it’s definitely better sitting up front than it would have been fighting to stay standing in the sea of hormones jostling at the back. This close up, you can see Jared and Jensen’s reactions much more clearly, too; every secretive grin between them, every twitching laugh line, every aborted glance back in your direction. Laughter rings through the crowd and you refocus your attention on the questions.

“Which one of us is the biggest what?” Jensen speaks into his mic, asking the girl on the opposite side of the stage to you to repeat her question.

“Well I’m the biggest,” Jared cuts in smirking, and the audience cheers and giggles. Jared flashes them a bright, goofy smile.

“Well, that depends on what she’s asking,” Jensen smacks Jared on the arm. The girl tries to ask her question again but she’s laughing through it and the words come out garbled again.

“Which one of us has the biggest pants?” Jared’s brow raises as he incorrectly repeats the question again. You know there’s no way that’s what the girl asked. “That’s still me darlin’.” He turns to your side of the stage goddamn winks, and you flush just as deeply as the girl asking her question. You roll your eyes at him, glad that he probably can’t see you very clearly due to the stage lights shining in his eyes.

“That topic is still up for debate, actually,” Jensen protests seriously.

“No it’s not,” Jared scoffs.

“Uh, yeah, it is.” Jensen’s not backing down. “Costume department compared our measurements bro, they’re the same.”

“You and I both know that didn’t include the measurement they’re talking about,” Jared glares jokingly out at the audience.

There’s wolf whistles and shrieks of delight from the crowd and Jensen bursts out laughing. “You’re gonna give them all aneurysms, man.”

You certainly feel like you might be having an aneurysm. Your blood is pumping hot and hard through your veins. You can actually hear it swirling around your body, leaking out into your capillaries, carrying burning embarrassment and desire to the tips of each vessel.

It’s a running joke, the size difference between you and Jared. He towers over most of the people he meets, so it’s not unsurprising that he towers over you as well. He’s called you ‘squirt’ as long as you can remember knowing him, and you’ve called him every name you can dream up, from ‘sasquatch’ to ‘jolly green giant’.

As you both grew older, and Jared’s physique caught up to his height, and your mind started to take up a more permanent residence in…ahem… lower places than it had inhabited in your youth, you began to wonder just how big Jared would be if you ever… You imagine big. Proportional, at the very least. Though, Jared has always been an overachiever, you imagine it might extend to this measurement as well. You secretly hope, anyway.

You gulp nervously. There’s a reason you and Jared had gotten so trashed the last time you’d hung out, and that was so you could drown your burgeoning crush in some socially acceptable poison and hope it didn’t break its head through the surface. Jared looks back at you and flashes you a smile, probably in relation to whatever he’d just said but you hadn’t been listening, mind too preoccupied thinking about the size of your friend’s dick. You let out a sigh of resignation – you were going to have to get smashed tonight, too.

“Oh,” Jensen’s voice rings through the auditorium as he finally understands the question. “Which one of us did the biggest prank?”

“Uh, Jensen,” Jared answers after a moment of dramatised consideration, “just now when he told you all he has a bigger dick than me.”

There’s an echoing thud as Jensen smacks Jared’s head with his microphone and Jared and Jensen both double up laughing, covering their mics so it doesn’t reverberate around the room. When things settle down after a minute you see Jensen lean towards Jared to say something privately. The mics don’t pick it up, but you’re close enough that you think you hear him say, “later tonight, we’re getting out the ruler.”

The hotel bar is basically empty, but you and Jared are still in a private room at the back so he doesn’t get mobbed by fans if they do happen to wander in. Jensen had joined you for a drink earlier, but he had to leave to perform at the Saturday night concert for the convention.

“Do you ever perform on Saturdays?” you poked at Jared, and both he and Jensen laughed wildly.

“Never in a million years,” Jared shook his head. “I just watch this guy give everyone in the room phantom orgasms all night.”

“Gross, dude,” Jensen shuddered as Jared guffawed but you had to agree, Jensen’s voice was orgasmic.

“Have fun with your ménage a several hundreds,” you waved Jensen off with a giggle.

“You’ll have to join in sometime,” Jensen backed out of the room with a wicked grin, wiggling his eyebrows ridiculously and leaving you and Jared laughing behind him.

“You want another one?” Jared asks, pointing at your nearly empty glass.

“If I have any more I’ll have to crawl back to Austin,” you hiccup, the alcohol making you giggle-y and unsteady despite your seated state.

“You’re not goin’ back to Austin, squirt,” Jared protests, drowning the remainder of his own glass.

“Am I being kidnapped?”

“Damn straight. You’re not driving anywhere tonight, don’t be stupid.”

“I was gonna dry out a little first,” you defend yourself. Of course you weren’t planning to drive home drunk.

“By the time you sober up it will be way too late to go back. Just stay the night here,” Jared shrugs, indicating it’s no big deal for you to crash. You think about it for a moment and then agree that staying over is a better plan. Besides, Jared will have a big fancy room since the convention is paying for them to stay here – he’ll have plenty of space for you.

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically but you aren’t all that perturbed, and Jared knows it too. “Thank you.”

“What are friends for?” Jared grins. “C’mon, I’ll grab a bottle from the bar and let’s go upstairs. I don’t want to get caught in the crowd after the concert finishes.” You also don’t want to be mobbed by hundreds of concert goers, so you happily follow Jared out of the bar and up to his hotel room.

Jared flops dramatically onto his bed when you get inside, but you stand by the door, taking in your surroundings. As you’d imagined, the room is lavish. Every piece of furniture is accented with metallics, and every soft surface is heaped with pillows, including the bed Jared is now snuggling back onto. But, you note with a bit of surprise, there is only one bed.

Apparently fancy doesn’t automatically come with multiple beds – and why should it? Jared hadn’t expected anybody to stay the night, he’d only needed the one bed. Had he known there was only one bed when he offered you a place to crash for the night? Or had someone else brought up the luggage that you could see piled at the foot of the bed, meaning he wouldn’t have known what the exact sleeping situation would turn out to be? You’re jolted out of your frenzied contemplation when Jared throws a pillow at your head, though it narrowly misses and hits the door behind you.

“Are you just gonna stand there all night?” he laughs, eyes crinkling.

“Uh, no, course not,” you scoff, hoping Jared assumes the flush creeping over your skin is from alcohol, and not embarrassment. Jared scoots over to one side of the bed and pats the empty space he’s just created. The bottle of whiskey he’d brought from the bar downstairs is propped next to him on the pillows and it bounces as you settle yourself on top of the covers. You reach for it and peel back the foil cap, pulling the cork free with a pop.

“Wanna watch something?” Jared rifles on the side of the bed, digging for his laptop in the bag on the floor.

“Whatever you want,” you shrug.

You inwardly hope watching something might help you control your drunk chatter. Your mind has been wandering to one specific place since the panel this afternoon and you’re hyper aware that when you get tipsy, your filter becomes non existent. You do not want to give Jared an unsolicited insight into your horribly inappropriate mind.

Your eyes shift from the bottle in your hands to Jared’s laptop, now open and sitting on his thighs while he surfs through movie options online. His hands overwhelm the breadth of the keyboard, the pads of each long finger almost bigger than the letter keys they’re hovering over. How far could those fingers reach if they were… No. You curtail that course of thought with a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle and flick your eyes away from his hands.

Jared’s legs are pressed together, gangly limbs and knees scrunched up and pushing the fabric at his hips into ripples. An unmissable bulge sits at the apex of his thighs, distending the denim so it’s stretched tightly across his cock while it’s bunched and wrinkled everywhere else. You swallow hard and tear your gaze away, forcing yourself to look back at Jared’s laptop. He’s stopped scrolling now, and after a moment you realise he’s asking you if the movie he’s hovering over is an okay choice. You nod mutely and take another drink.

“Woah there darlin’, save some for the rest of us,” he laughs, grabbing the bottle from your hands, fingertips brushing over yours as he wraps them around the green glass. You wonder if Jared feels the same pang of electricity that you do when you touch. He’s evidently curious as to why you recoiled so quickly, because he’s now carefully studying your hand and the fingers that had just brushed against his.

Your moment of thick silence is interrupted by the fanfare of opening credits as the movie begins to play, startling you. Jared smooshes himself further back into the feather pillows on the unfairly comfy bed and stretches his arms wide, patting the pillow he’s using as an armrest to summon you to him.

Nervous and giddy all at once, you tuck yourself into the crook of his arm, curling up against his side. Even laying down he feels so much bigger than you. Your eyes drop again, unbidden, to his lap and you rip your gaze away quickly. The whiskey must be settling in now, because you start to feel sleepy and because, for just a second, you think that the bulge in Jared’s crotch looks even larger than it had a few minutes earlier.

Jared pulls you close against him, offering you the whiskey bottle again, and you take it happily. The two of you lazily glug more booze and laugh along with whatever comedy is on the laptop, and you’re utterly content. At some point in time your neck loses its ability to support your head and you topple it sideways onto Jared’s shoulder.

“You comfy there, Y/N?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum sleepily, snuggling even deeper into Jared’s chest, your arm winding itself around his waist of its own accord, and Jared squeezes you against him, laughing softly into your hair.

You aren’t sure when you fell asleep – you don’t remember the end of the movie at all. You don’t even remember how you’d wound up under the covers, cradled snugly in the bend of Jared’s body. Wiggling a little to reintroduce feeling into your left arm, you shift backwards into his chest, secretly hoping the arm currently resting on top of the covers might drop around your waist as you continue to sleep.

Arching out to stretch your legs a little, you wind up nudging your hips back into Jared’s and you freeze in shock. Here, pressed close beneath the confines of cotton-swaddled feathers, you feel it… and you can tell – Jared hadn’t been kidding at the panel earlier. He must be bigger than Jensen, because there’s no way anyone could be physically larger than what you feel pressing into the curve of your ass right now.

Your whole body flushes, but you’re too scared to move away lest you wake Jared, so you stay. You try to breathe, systematically unclenching the muscles in your body from head to toe and allowing yourself to relax against your bed companion. Darkness settles around you when your eyes drift shut again but the light from Jared’s laptop still casts a faint blue tint against your eyelids.

That comforting blue morphs into a shocking orange, and your eyes squint against the unexpected source of light now coming from the open door. Seconds later it’s even brighter as the lights in the room are switched on to reveal Jensen leaning casually against the back of the door, smirking in the direction of the bed. Behind you, Jared has jolted awake, sitting up and pitching you forward into the mattress with the force of his disturbance.

“Jay?” he asks blearily, yawning through the word.

“Why did I have a feeling this is what I’d be walking into tonight?” Jensen answers with a laugh and a kind roll of his eyes. You look sleepily between both of the men, confused as all hell.

Finally, it occurs to you why Jensen must be in the room – and why there had only been one bed.

Part 2 now up as an exclusive commission on my website!

We’re All Mads Here: @vulgar-library @tintentrinkerin @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @schaefchenherde @kickingitwithkirk @little-diable @laxe-chester67 @kassyscarlett @austin-winchester67 @flamencodiva @katbratsupernaturalwhore

All SPN: @cemini-winchester @akshi8278 @stoneyggirl @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @lovealways-j @slamminmine @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @eddiesgirl @raidens-realm @tatted-trina6 @defenderrosetyler @delightfullykrispypeach @05supernatural20 @sams-sass @calaofnoldor @thinkinghardhardlythinking

#spnkinkbingo #size kink #jared x reader #friends to lovers #surprise ending

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twistedtranslations · 4 years

Text

Cater Diamond - Full of Lies

You can unlock this story by getting Cater’s SSR Scary dress

Big thanks to Rym and Apollo for proofreading!

Translation under the cut

Chapter 1

Main street

/Notification

Cater: Oh? A message on MagiCam? Who would've thought it was that girl! How nostalgic~ The picture those ghosts took at Ramshackle dorm made our college's Halloween event trend -> Jumping onto the bandwagon and posting a lot -> Huge success for Cay's follower-catching strat! So far it's been going well but… Mixed within the comments and DMs of my new followers are a lot of old aquaintances. Even some classmates from middle and elementary school are here.

Cater: "Hey! It's been a while! Oh, would you like to come to our college? Cay welcomes every single one of you! You can always come over to hang at NRC's Halloween event!"

Cater: And now some emoji full of feelings! (^○^)♪ (ゝω・)☆　d(’ｖ｀*)b

Cater: Everyone is really so casual and easygoing~ Well, it's easier on me, so I'm not complaining.

???: HEY!

Cater: Where did that loud and rowdy voice come from? I've got a bad feeling about this…

Front Gate

Sebek: Humans, don't crowd around the young master! Get out! Leave!

Boy A: Hey, what are you doing, sweptback bro! Don't interfere with our Draconia Challenge.

Boy B: We're putting our lives on the line to show our bravery by uploading a picture of us touching The Malleus!

Boy A: Huh, since when did Malleus disappear?! It's that sweptback bro's fault.

Boy B: Don't be so angry. After all the effort of having a sweptback, let's show the world a huge smile on that face!

Sebek: For humans of your social standing to use the name of the Lord of the esteemed Valley of Thorns in vain…Besides, my hair is swept back like this so I have an unobstructed view to find those like you who behave rudely towards my young master! You shall receive punishment for insulting the Draconia… no, for insulting the young master. My thunder shall shock you all to bits! HAAAAA...

Cater: Okay, stop! I'm part of the Halloween Committee. It's forbidden to fight. Why don't you try talking to this lad if something's up?

Sebek: Don't interrupt me, you frolicking human! I will shock you to bits as well!

Cater: Won't you create a scandal for the Draconia family if you were to harm an ordinary human with magic?

Sebek: W-Well… You're right. Besides, didn't you just say you were part of the Halloween committee? Both the young master and master Lilia are both performing the same duties… They ordered me to listen to the orders of the other committee members. Ok, I shall talk this out.

Cater: Even though you are crossing your arms and puffing your chest out, you are being apologetic right? Anyway, these are our college's precious guests. They have no intention to harm Malleus.

Sebek: These magic-less weaklings were making a spectacle bothering Young Master with a toy. I cannot forgive that!

Cater: Malleus is like super famous, and he's an admirable being, right? So just for this festival, it should be fine to interact with our guests as a little fanservice right?

Sebek: Stop messing around. The young master is a dreadful being who makes everyone kneel and bow down to him. AND THAT'S WHY I WILL NEVER LEAVE HIS SIDE AND PROTECT HIM ALL MY LIFE!

Cater: You're just obsessed!

Boy A: Hey, interfering our Draconia Challenge aside, what are you two squabbling about?

Sebek: Hm? You humans are still here? I told you to leave.

Boy B: Huh? You've got some nerve, talking rudely to us like that!

Cater: Come on guys. Why don't we take some pictures together since it's finally Halloween! We, Heartslabyul are those who rise from the soil in the darkness, the underlings of the night~

Boy A: Wow! Now that you mention it, you do look real good for the camera!

Cater: Cheer up everyone and gather! Let's decide on a pose~~~ Happy Halloween~

¨*shutter noise*

Cater: (Ugh… This is exhausting)

Chapter 2

Classroom

Kalim/Cater/Lilia: *Sigh*… I'm tired….

Cater: This year's Halloween was exhausting. Mainly due to our guests being rowdy..

Kalim: It was fun entertaining the guests, but I was really troubled because Jamil got in a foul mood.

Lilia: Even we, three most gentle boys, have been worn down. The other students must be at the limits of their patience.

Everyone: *Sigh*…

Cater: Now that you say it, by chance all the members of the light music club are also part of the Halloween Committee. Let's have our usual relaxing tea time while also discussing some countermeasures.

Kalim/Lilia: Agreed~

Cater: I got this! Trey's home-made pumpkin pie! It's moderately sweet, so it's my favorite!

Kalim: I have kunafa. It's a cheesecake from the Scalding Sands. It's delicious when it's hot!

Lilia: Oho, these are all sweets befitting of Halloween. As the last one, I have prepared this. Licorice!

Cater: You're always bringing the same thing! You know me and Kalim don't like that.

Kalim: The smell makes my nose shrivel up~

Cater: But you know, since it's black, it does feel like Halloween. Oh, right, let's take a picture together. It's super charming to be in costume and have themed food.

*shutter noise*

Cater: #TheBestHalloween #SelfmadeCostume #HomemadeTreat #LightMusicClub #NRCHalloween

Kalim: The best? Didn't you say you were exhausted earlier, Cater?

Cater: I never said it wasn't exciting and for things like SNS, isn't it better to exaggerate a bit?

Lilia: As expected of you. We live in a period where everyone is connected all around the world. It is most wonderful to spread happiness instead of complaints.

Cater: Oh. The picture I just uploaded got an amazing response!

*notification*

Cater: Another message from that girl. Was she the kind to keep track of people's activities?

*ringing noise*

Cater: This time it's a call. (How persistent…)

Kalim: Cater, is it from one of your friends? You can pick up if you want.

Cater: Hm~… More like an acquaintance from the past? But it's alright? We're at a very important meeting, after all.

Lilia: We are only eating sweets, taking pictures and uploading them to MagiCam though…

Cater: It's the age of social media where everyone can keep in contact at their own pace, you don't have to go through the pains of having to response in real time to a phone call.

Kalim: Do you have that many people who want to get in touch with you? You're so well connected Cater~

Cater: Well, if you look the amount of aquaintances I have, that might be true? My dad's a banker. The bank he works at has branches all over the world. Therefore, whenever he transferred to a different branch, our entire family would move with him. We moved once every two years, so I kind of feel like a pro at quickly packing things?

Lilia: Commonly said, you are a family who moved a lot for the sake of the breadwinner.

Kalim: So the reason why you have so many friends is because you have travelled around the world since young.

Cater: Yeah, the girl just now said we are friends as well. Having to change schools frequently, I got to meet more people compared to someone staying at one place. From the best to the worst… a lot of people. However, they all had something in common.

Kalim/Lilia: …?

Cater: If I left there, they remained there. That's why I'd rather have a casual and happy time with everyone than to deepen a friendship. It’s like a circus troupe, you know, having fun hanging with people all over the world and then leaving. That's why MagiCam is the best! People from my school from three years ago contacted me out of the blue. My social circle is expanding as well. Cay is getting popular!

Kalim: Even if they're far away, you don't have to hold back you know? I got it! I'll lend you my magic carpet, so you can visit your friends whenever you want.

Cater:… I expected no less of you, Kalim. I'll take you up on that offer next time.

Lilia: I feel like I understand you.

Cater: Hm?

Lilia: The relations between humans are eternal. They are things that cannot be severed. In a new place with no trace of your existence, new relations will continue to be forged. That in itself is nature. However, I think the more precious a relation is, the more lonely it becomes. Why does it feel that way? I have lived a long life but the reason is still unknown to me. But just as Cater said, there may be a perfectly logical explanation for not getting too attached to one person in particular.

Cater: Lilia, what got into you suddenly? What I wanted to say was-

*ringing noise*

Lilia: Hello, this is Lilia speaking? What business do you have?

Cater: He just casually picked up the phone during our conversation.

Lilia: Oh, Sebek. What is it? You are so loud. Right now, I am in a meeting with Cater and Kalim. WHAT?! MALLEUS?!

Kalim/Cater: ?!

Chapter 3

Hall of Mirrors

Silver: Stop pushing. It's forbidden to enter the Hall of Mirrors.

Man A: Huh, really! I came all the way to the Isle of Sages to see Malleus Draconia.

Man B: We are doing the Draconia challenge now! Why can't we enter~

Girl C: He’s inside right! An actual Draconia, the Actual Malleus!

Everyone: MALLEUS! MALLEUS! MALLEUS!

*Lightning and thunder*

Silver: It's a rare event that Master Malleus is participating in. He also agreed to interact with the guests... For it to come to this... Everyone, it’s better if you leave. You have angered master Malleus.

Man A: I paid a lot of travel expenses, did you know that? This is the price of fame.

Everyone: MALLEUS! MALLEUS! MALLEUS!

Exterior Hallway

Cater: Did the visitors who wanted that MagiCam glory end up angering even Malleus himself?

Sebek: Yes. At first he was gentle and calmed me down when I got angry… but a fool grabbed Malleus by the horns and made fun of him by saying "Look! It's a bicycle from the olden days!"

Lilia/Cater: Gh!

Cater: I don't know if they're brave or just reckless. Were the dark clouds and thunder rampaging in the sky above the Hall of Mirrors due to Malleus' anger? You don't think he overblotted, right…?!

Lilia: Do not worry. Using that amount of magic power shall not make him overblot. He is simply irritated. Back when he was young, mountains would be destroyed by his lightning whenever he threw a tantrum.

Cater: Hahaha… that's on a totally different level. I guess it was a good idea to have Kalim fetch the professors.

Sebek: Upperclassman Vil noticed something was up and isolated the young master. He also casted a defensive spell so the tourists wouldn't be harmed. And it seemed that Upperclassman Jade is persuading the angry young master with some unique methods... Even so, those humans who can't seem to understand the gravity of the situation keep stirring up the young master, they're uncontrollable.

Lilia: This means we must use our last resort. We must put in effort to suppress the onlookers and avoid the worst situation.

Cater: Wait a second, Lilia. I thought of something. It's not like people there dislike Malleus or anything. Despite that, it doesn't mean that they like Malleus as well... They're just interested in trends. Just like my old acquaintances.

Lilia: ?

Cater: First, I'll take a picture of Lilia, who's wearing the same clothes as Malleus!

*shutter noise*

Cater: Next we use something catered to influencers. We'll elongate Lilia's picture with a photo editing app!

*swiping on phone*

Cater: Now we just add some text to finish it up. And then upload a cropped version to MagiCam!!

*Phone SFX*

Cater: #AWildMalleusAppeared #DraconiaChallenge #UnexpectedlyAtSportsGround #NRCHalloween

*Phone SFX*

Hall of Mirrors

Man A: H-Hey. Look at the Draconia challenge tag.

Man B: It seems he's at the Sports Ground now. As expected of Malleus. He's much faster than we are!

Girl C: Okay. Everyone, let's move!

Everyone: YEAH!

Silver: What happened? Master Malleus should still be in the Hall of Mirrors.

Cater: Fu. With this, I hope the storm has passed…?

Vil: Good grief. Accidents are an unavoidable part of stage plays. Letting yourself get influenced by the guests is so amateurish. My work here is done. I will return to the dorm to straighten up my appearance.

Jade: My, that was a close call. Malleus is extremely powerful. I persuaded him to the best of my abilites, trying to get him to understand. But there was no one to turn to if it had failed. Well then, I will also return to my station. I wish everyone a wonderful Halloween.

Malleus: I caused many disturbances between different racial groups during a mere school event. I should restrain myself more…

Sebek: The young master has done nothing wrong! It was the fault of those inferior humans!

Silver: The young master told us to avoid hostility between fae and humans. Why are you getting more hostile?

Sebek: WHAT DID YOU SAY SILVER!

Lilia: Malleus. Did you forget our promise from long ago? Call for us when the tranquility in your mind is disturbed. Even if we are not related by blood, we are still a family. Got it?

Malleus: Lilia… My apologies. To everyone.

Everyone: …

Cater: ….Family…huh.

Flashback

Lilia: But just as Cater said, there may be a perfectly logical explanation for not getting too attached to one person in particular.

Flashback ends

Cater: (That was full of lies. For a guy who grew up and lived in the same place, he never had to deal with rebuilding relations over and over…He would never understand my worthless and meaningless feelings.)

*ringing*

Cater: Hello, Trey. What's up? Huh? Are we doing our rehearsal for our night show at the stamp rally now? And Deuce, who is also part of the Halloween Committee, was at his wit's end due to the lack of manpower. So Ace is helping him out? Darn, Ace is definitely going to extort me for a favor later!

Cater: Argh! And is Riddle on the verge of a rampage? I'll be back soon, Trey. Please calm him down! I am currently at the site of the biggest crisis yet of this Halloween Week! No, for real! I'm not lying. That's why you don't have to be so cold to me, 'kay? URGH, TREY, YOU'RE SO CRUEL!

Cater: Now that Diasomnia's turmoil has settled, let's change the mood and continue on with work. In any case, we’ll still separate after the fourth year… It would be different if I repeated a year though. Anyway, I should just enjoy the moment to my heart's content! I'll surprise everyone with this charming skeleton costume! I'll show them what I'm capable of!

Cater: Happy Halloween!

#twisted wonderland #cater diamond #Lilia Vanrouge #kalim al asim #sebek zigvolt #vil schoenheit #jade leech #silver #malleus draconia

675 notes · View notes

m-y-fandoms · 4 years

Text

1 Thing I Love & 1 Thing I Hate About EVERY Danganronpa Character Part 1

Part 2

SPOILERS FOR ALL THREE MAIN GAMES

I’d love to hear our opinions as well in the comments or my inbox or DM’s! If you try this trend with DR characters, tag me!

Sayaka Maizono

♡ Her passion for her career and friends.

✘ The way she tries to screw over Makoto when the game had just begun. Like wait and see what happens before screwing over such a great guy? Leon didn’t deserve it either.

Leon Kuwata

♡ His voice actor (English), and how real and human his execution was in that we all would be so scared and irrational. It was just so iconic and sad as it’s our first introduction to the death in this series and we all think: “shit, this is real... they are really killing these kids.” I didn’t think it would be that brutal, just seeing his body limp at the end with the haunting music.

✘ His design is disgusting. I hate how he looks.

Chihiro Fujisaki

♡ So innocent, so kind, so intelligent

✘ Shouldn’t have been killed for such a stupid reason, also they did Mondo dirty with that motive for killing as well. Just a mess. As for the actual character, Chihiro cries right off the bat when you do your introductions and that was kind of annoying to me personally.

Mondo Oowada

♡ He has a lot of respect, understanding and emotions for someone I thought would be a hard-ass douche biker.

✘ The worst motive to kill ever in a game where you know you’re getting executed if you’re found out. Like you’d be extra careful and that’s his reason to kill? Lazy writing.

Celestia Ludenberg

♡ Bad bitch energy and her goth lolita design.

✘ Manipulation and double murder. Bad bitch energy only goes so far. Confidence is different then selfishness. Also, of all the chapter 3 triple murders... the worst motive to kill.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru

♡ Emotions: secure in his masculinity, able to cry, show emotions, and apologize when he’s wrong. He’s funny and likable.

✘ The Ishimondo white hair thing was stupid. Taka was fine on his own.

Hifumi Yamada

♡ Writing takes talent, fan fiction as much as any other style or genre. Also the talent of his voice actor (who also voices Kiibo/K1-B0).

✘ Literally everything else about him.

Sakura Oogami

♡ I love everything about her. I love her wisdom, loyalty, design, voice etc. Just step on me, mother.

✘ Why the hell would she ever agree to be a spy even if it meant the end of her dojo? I just don’t think she would do that rationally because she isn’t selfish. The others would suffer for her spying. She remedies this with redemption in her letter in chapter 4 but still she should’ve said no off the bat. Everyone had something to lose. The dojo wasn’t worth spying for monokuma. Also I just don’t think she would commit suicide. She can’t help the remaining students survive and redeem herself truly if she’s dead.

Kyoko Kirigiri

♡ Bad bitch energy, calm and collected when I could never be.

✘ Especially in future arc of the anime, damn can you show some emotion please? Through your words and expressions not just your actions. Sure she was willing to “die” for Makoto but like I just want more emotion from her sometimes, even in THH.

Makoto Naegi

♡ So pure. I Love Bryce Papenbrook. Makoto reminds me of Sora and I love his design.

✘ In THH I didn’t mind his innocence but in the Danganronpa 3 future arc anime, when people started straight up abusing him and accusing him, he needed to grow a little backbone.

Byakuya Togami

♡ Love my dad, king shit, also love how over the progression of the games and animes he becomes a little more kind to his friends.

✘ Why the fuck did he mess with Chihiro’s body? Just so cruel and disrespectful.

Yasuhiro Hagakure

♡ Funny magic man. Sexy voice.

✘ Please. Please Hiro use your brain just once. Why do we have to prove Kyoko isn’t a ghost?!

Toko Fukawa

♡ Character development in UDG and I love Genocider.

✘ Putting down herself and others constantly gets old in THH.

Aoi Asahina

♡ Love her voice actress and her personality

✘ We really just gonna get everyone killed in chapter 4 huh? Surely you know they don’t all deserve that.

Junko Enoshima

♡ A very memorable villain with great hair and design.

✘ I just can’t stand her. I hate her so much.

Mukuro Ikusaba

♡ Her mercenary background is super cool as a concept.

✘ Too bad it wasn’t explored nearly enough.

Hajime Hinata

♡ Seeing the protagonist be a little less naive, innocent and positive than Makoto was a refreshing change, although I loved Makoto. I liked Hajime’s cynicism and expressions that sometimes just screamed “this shit again, huh?”

✘ I enjoy the way Izuru looks but I hate him as a character. He is sexy to look at but Hajime is just a better character overall

Teruteru Hanamura

♡ His love for his family and mother especially is so cute and heart breaking if you know the full story.

✘ He needs to know when to dial it back and quit with the perversions. And no it’s not just how he looks, Miu needs to chill at times, too.

Twogami

♡ I feel like he genuinely cares about his friends, just hides it well

✘ His death felt like a cop out and poorly written. It just didn’t sit right with me. Also his design is disgusting to me, his outfit and such.

Mahiru Koizumi

♡ Loyal to her close friends.

✘ I just have no interest in her as a character and I find her boring.

Peko Pekoyama

♡ Loyalty. Loyalty is something I value very highly in every form of relationship. Peko is also very hot.

✘ Come on girl... I know how you were raised but you should’ve known Fuyuhiko didn’t think of you as just a tool and you two should’ve expressed your true feelings long ago. Like even in secret. How do you live like this? Also I feel like killing Mahiru could’ve been avoided with a calm talk.

Ibuki Mioda

♡ Cute design, positive vibes.

✘ Cringe sometimes in the way she talks.

Hiyoko Saionji

♡ Beautiful character design and some very good insults and snarky remarks at times.

✘ Just irredeemably mean and annoying. Even when you do her free time events she is just so annoying.

Mikan Tsumiki

♡ I like her design as well as her hair, expressions, sprites and clothing.

✘ I hate her. I just hate her whether she’s in her true psycho form or timid stuttering form. She’s just annoying in my opinion.

Nekomaru Nidai

♡ So supportive, can hold my drink at a party. Respects everyone and wants the best for them.

✘ Bro Mechamaru was a stupid plot point. I just couldn’t stand looking at him and couldn’t take it seriously. Still sad when he died though.

Chiaki Nanami

♡ From chapter 5 of sdr2 on she is impossible not to love if you didn’t already. Just the selflessness, the sadness of the reveal and execution, how she returns to help Hajime at the end???? I love her. I love her hair design, color palette, her personality, everything.

✘ I’m bitter and miserable about her being the only class member to actually die (the despair arc anime) also her falling asleep at random times is kind of odd and she doesn’t seem to be like that later on in the game??? Like it seemed like a cheap joke but not actually who she is? Hard for me to explain.

Gundham Tanaka

♡ King shit, couldn’t praise him enough. He’s sexy, loves animals, and is funny as hell sometimes. His voice actor is a saint and a cool dude and I named my guinea pigs after the Dark Devas (yes I know they are hamsters in the games.)

✘ Come on dude. I get that being from Hell and magic and having evil powers is your shtick, but we all know that you and Nekomaru sacrificed yourselves so the others wouldn’t starve. We know you care about your classmates. There comes a time when it’s time to let personas and facades fade and be true to your heart. I just feel like him denying he cared at the end hurt. We all know he cared. I didn’t like how he was haughty until the end. He deserved better. I love him.

Nagito Komaeda

♡ I love him so much. So cunning and intelligent, always a step ahead. And he’s big sexy.

✘ Him killing himself in chapter 5 hurt me so bad I was like in denial for days. Also hate how Bryce Papenbrook gives him a raspy stoner psycho voice in the game then a light airy higher-pitched voice in the despair arc anime. It just bothers me. I love his voice still but the inconsistency just hurts my OCD

Sonia Nevermind

♡ I love that she’s so interested in her passions and love her feelings for Gundham

✘ Her outfit and bow are atrocious. Also why didn’t she start liking and talking to Gundham sooner on? Their romance bloomed late and it would’ve made for a better chapter 4 ending if they were a bit closer.

Kazuichi Souda

♡ Cool design and outfit, love his voice (also voices Kaito in V3) and his backstory is relatable at times. He’s also very human in that he’s scared a lot of the time or insecure or blames others in panicked situations. It’s not always a good thing but it’s human and realistic.

✘ Gosh he can be so annoying. Sometimes flirting or whining too much is well... too much.

Akane Owari

♡ Strong-willed and definitely someone I would be friends with

✘ What the hell is her outfit? Gymnasts and athletes don’t wear that shit. Stop objectifying her when it doesn’t even make the product or plot better. Like there’s absolutely no point to making her dress that way. I was a gymnast for 15 years. Even those who do parkour (which Akane seems to do more often than actual gymnastics in the anime and game) don’t wear what she wears. Also she’s underrated.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu

♡ I love him. He’s the DR character I’m most like out of all the games and anime. Tenko is a close second. I think he’s adorable, love his character arc, development, redemption, and love his voice.

✘ In the anime/despair arc, Fuyuhiko is not done justice. He doesn’t get enough lines, has a different voice actor, just doesn’t give off the same vibes.

Izuru Kamakura

♡ Sexy man long hair good.

✘ Boring character. I wish he were just Hajime.

Kaede Akamatsu

♡ Loyalty and leadership are such attractive qualities in her. Also she faced her death with such class and dignity and I respect her because I could never.

✘ Some of the voice lines Erika does for her are just weird and cringe. Just random moans or grunts... I don’t know it’s like when Ann Takamaki from Persona 5 (also voiced by Erika) makes suggestive noises as well. Just grinds my gears. Also hate her outfit down to the hair pins.

Shuichi Saihara

♡ I love his nasally voice. I love his design and he’s so adorable. I love how emotional and compassionate he can be. He ties with Makoto for favorite protag of mine.

✘ That sprite where he sniffs his hand. And his ugly ass hat.

Rantarou Amami

♡ Sexy man, sexy voice, sexy piercings

✘ Ugly outfit, and wasted potential

Ryoma Hoshi

♡ I respect him and feel bad for his outlook on life and for how poorly he views himself. I love his little hat as well and he’s the first “different styled” character (Hifumi, Bandai, Teruteru) that I liked the design of.

✘ I hate when he says “got a long ways to go,” it’s overused and annoying, and wish he gave himself more credit. Also hate that when you first meet him he warns you that he’s killed people and is dangerous to be around. Come on buddy, you know you wouldn’t hurt your friends. Stop pushing them away.

Kirumi Tojo

♡ Competence, well rounded, skillful

✘ Boring as hell. I wouldn’t waste one free time event on her.

Angie Yonaga

♡ Dark skin, super cute, love her talent as an artist myself.

✘ Gives religious people a bad name and is super manipulative which I hate.

Tenko Chabashira

♡ I relate to her and feel bad when she’s misunderstood. She’s a good person deep down. Also love her sprites.

✘ There’s more cunning, funny and clever ways to write her digs at men.

Korekiyo Shunguuji

♡ I’m in love with this man. Long hair, voice, mystery, mask, intelligence, passion, talent.

✘ He definitely was a victim of abuse and a lot of people refuse to see that and just hate him. Team Danganronpa should’ve given him a redemption arc where he realized his sister abused him and changed.

Gonta Gokuhara

♡ I love his design except for his suit. Also he’s so cute and naive. I cried for his trail.

✘ No need talk like caveman. Better way to do this.

Kokichi Ouma

♡ Like Nagito, I value his intelligence and crazy cunning.

✘ Shouldn't have died. Also shouldn’t have manipulated Gonta. That was just cruel.

Miu Iruma

♡ She has her hilarious moments and her death surprised me and was sad.

✘ Sometimes she lacks basic empathy, i.e. calling Tenko “Tencrotch” when she just fucking died.

Maki Harukawa

♡ Amazing character development. Didn’t see her surviving until the end at the start. Also her love and passion for Kaito.

✘ “Do you wanna die?” gets old.

Kaito Momota

♡ Just the overall best bro you could ever have.

✘ Has some toxic masculinity issues and anger issues.

K1-B0

♡ Pretty much everything about him. His design, his attitude and personality, especially how amazing and cool he is chapter 5 onward, his execution made me so sad. He’s so innocent and funny without trying.

✘ When you do his free time events he’s very arrogant and just talks about himself a lot... it seems odd and not similar to the Kiibo we see throughout the game.

Himiko Yumeno

♡ Super cute design, love her voice and “Nyeh...” and her sprites. Her character development is great as well.

✘ Why did they take so long to make her important and likable?

Tsumugi Shirogane

♡ An excellent and well hidden reveal

✘ I hate her. So annoying, from the voice to the references and her personality.

326 notes · View notes

hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

Text

Lover, Lover, Set Me Free...

A/n: I hope you like this! It’s been a while since I’ve written something like this! (not fully edited only partially edited) also i totally did not pull an all nighter to finish this hahaha.......

Requested by: @hannie-squirrel00 (thank you for requesting lovely! Sry it took a while! I wanted to do it right! <3)

Warnings: cussing, slightly 18+ themes, POV switching

Word Count: 13k

Summary: Jisung is one of the biggest players on campus. When Hyunjin bets him that he can’t get into the coldest girl on campus’s pants, Y/n gets unknowingly thrown into the ordeal. While doing his best, Jisung unconsciously starts to fall for this girl who means more to him that he is willing to admit to anyone- even himself.

Genre: Romance, angst, fluff, college!au, fuckboy!jisung, badboy!jisung, non-idol au

❁

When did university become a popularity contest? Wasn’t the whole point to come and learn? Instead, I’m fighting tooth and nail to get a spot in the costuming program with bitches who don’t even know how to sew on a damn zipper. My hard work is being looked over while girls making googly eyes at my professor get top priority in class.

“Y/n, if you aren’t careful you’re gonna sew your finger to your garment again.” My best friend, Felix, said next to me. I shook myself out of my trance and sighed, turning off my sewing machine and running a hand through my hair.

“Sorry, my head is just somewhere else.”

Felix scoffed next to me as he focused on hemming a lavender-colored slip. “I’d be spacy too if I hadn’t gotten laid in a year.” He nudged my shoulder making me laugh.

“I’m sorry that I don’t need to have an active sex drive to get work done. Besides, guys are a waste of time.”

“I strongly disagree with that last statement.”

Felix smirked and pulled his garment off the machine. Despite many girls pining after him, it was quite obvious Felix was into guys. Well...obvious to everyone except the girls who kept buying him vodka martinis when we went out to drink.

“Seungmin and I were gonna go out for drinks. You wanna come?” My best friend said packing up his stuff. I looked back at the dress I was sewing, then Felix. He was pulling his best puppy dog eyes on me.

“I will go tonight if you help me put boning in two corsets tomorrow.”

Felix grimaced. But I knew he would rather have a drinking buddy than have Seungmin leave him at the bar shitfaced. “Fine. But the first drink is on you.” I smiled and packed up my stuff, taking the garment with me. I could work on it back in my dorm tomorrow.

Felix happily dragged me out of the theatre department building and to the most popular campus bar on a Friday night. Seungmin was already seated at the bar nursing a beer when we arrived. Several people greeted Felix as we pushed through the crowded pub. “If it isn’t the famous Arctic Bitch!” I scowled hearing the name. Apparently, I had given myself quite a reputation without even trying.

Seungmin didn’t mean any harm by saying it. He just liked to poke fun at me. I bought Felix his first drink and the three of us shouted at each other over the loud music and voices in the bar. “Why is it so crowded tonight?” I shouted, frowning as someone elbowed me.

“Apparently, 3RACHA decided to show up a couple hours ago.”

“WHAT? I call dibs on Changbin!” Felix shouted, his eyes going wide. I rolled my eyes and stole a sip from Seungmin’s beer. I could honestly care less about those three bullheaded bone-driven music majors. I didn’t really see the appeal. So, instead, I steered the conversation away so I could in fact enjoy my night.

❁

Third POV

Han Jisung smirked as he watched the girl whose name he honestly couldn’t remember walk away back to her friends. He looked down at the number she had written on his wrist. He was in the middle of deciding whether or not he actually wanted to call her when a voice called to him.

“Han stop flirting with random girls and come actually spend time with your friends!”

Chan motioned him over back to the booth that his three friends sat in. Hyunjin scoffed and took another drink from his gin and tonic.

“Do you really have to do that?” Changbin asked, downing the rest of his drink.

“What?”

“Bone everything that moves.”

“Please. Han is not as good as he thinks he is.” Hyunjin said, slapping Jisung on the shoulder. Jisung glared at his friend. He and Hyunjin bickered, but Hyunjin didn’t usually bring out the big punches like that.

“Oh yeah? I can get any girl in this bar to sleep with me.”

“You really wanna do this?”

“Yes. Give me your best shot.”

Chan sighed, his hands covering his face. “Guys, don’t do this. I like this bar. Don’t kill the bar. I wanna come back here.” Changbin chuckled, enjoying the situation as he nursed his second cocktail. Jisung watched with a smirk as Hyunjin looked over all the girls in the bar. His grin stayed strong when Hyunjin turned back to him with a smile.

“You, sir, are in luck. Guess who I spotted at the bar?” Hyunjin quipped.

“Your mom.” Han held his hand up to Changbin for a high five, and the boy reluctantly complied.

“I challenge you to get Seoul University’s Arctic Bitch to sleep with you,” Hyunjin said pointing to the bar. Jisung followed Hyunijn’s direction and looked across the bar. His eyes fell on a girl with h/c hair and a stern expression on her face as she stole a sip from her friend’s beer. She wasn’t the hottest girl he had ever seen, but her ass wasn’t half bad.

“Challenge accepted.” Han moved to get up from the booth, but Hyunjin stopped him once more.

“Hold up big boy. You’ve gotta give me proof too.”

“What kind of proof?”

“I don’t know. Picture, video, something like that. I’ve gotta know it’s her and not one of the random sluts you usually hook up with.”

Han thought about it for a minute. He glanced over at Chan who shook his head solemnly. Of course, Chan would be against this. “Fine. What do I get if I win?” Jisung stated, shaking Hyunjin’s hand. Hyunjin thought for a minute.

“If you get her to sleep with you AND get proof- I’ll give you $1500.”

The other boys’ eyes went wide. Fifteen hundred dollars? Han started daydreaming about the new monitors he could get for his computer and the new sound system for his home studio. Plus that could go to paying off some of his student debt because God knows his parents weren’t gonna pay for this expensive college. “Oh, you got a deal!” Jisung glanced back over at the girl by the bar. This would be a piece of cake.

“If you can’t get Y/n to sleep with you...you have to go to graduation dressed in full lingerie. And heels.”

Chan and Changbin laughed, calling attention over to the boys for a moment. He had already agreed so there was no way he could back out of this. “Deal. I can’t wait to get my 1.5k!” Jisung smirked and poured himself another shot of soju before downing it like it was water. With a salute to his friends, the brunette haired boy crossed the bar to complete his challenge.

No way he would need three months to complete this.

❁

Y/n’s POV

We had been at the bar for only an hour and a half and Felix had already had three drinks, one of which was paid for by a very pretty- but not so observant- girl. It was kind of funny to watch him tipsily argue with Seungmin over who was the better role in our university’s musical, Chicago: Roxie or Velma.

“Fuck you, Min! Velma is a boss ass bitch in thigh highs! Whatcha gonna do about it, BRO?”

“Lix, drink some water,” I said, pushing my water towards my best friend. He pulled the drunk move and took the tiniest sip before turning back to his word assault against our other friend. Seungmin was only slightly more sober, but still argued with passion for his girl Roxie. Suddenly, there was a tap on my shoulder.

“Hey, you’re....Y/n, right? Lemme buy you a drink.”

My eyes raked over the boy in front of me. His brown hair brushed over the corner of his forehead and his eyes had a mischievous glint to them. A confident smirk played on his lips as his hand ghosted over my waist, before turning to the bar and back to me.

“What’s your poison? Cosmopolitan, right?”

“Actually, I’ll take a Godfather.”

I stifled a laugh at the near microscopic flash of surprise on his face. He quickly regained his cocky composure and looked me up and down. “Whiskey. A girl after my own heart.” While he turned to the bartender and ordered my drink I took the opportunity to turn back to my friends and roll my eyes. But, to my surprise, Felix was standing slack-jawed behind me staring at the guy attempting to flirt with me, his argument with Seungmin forgotten.

“Sorry, who are you and why should I care you like whiskey?”

The shock was evident on his face as he turned back to me. He blinked a few times before looking around the bar in confusion. “You don’t know who I am?” He scoffed when I shook my head. The bartender handed me my drink as well as a jack and coke for the boy next to me. “This might be harder than I thought,” he muttered under his breath before taking a large sip from his drink. I was driving so this would probably be my one and only drink for the night. “I’m Han Jisung. I’m one of the rappers in 3RACHA.”

“Ah....that explains the air of entitlement.”

He sighed and took another swig of his drink, leaning on the bar. I was starting to get frustrated; I came to have fun with my two friends, not get hit on by some cocky asshole. “Look Jinyoung-”

“Jisung.”

“Right. Whatever. I came to have fun with my friends. So, thanks for the drink. Why don’t you just call...Mina,” I said reading the name on his arm written in girly handwriting. “Cause she already seems interested in your deal. But, I’m not so.....bye!”

Without another word, I turned around and returned to my friends, who were speechless. I couldn’t help but watch their eyes track Jisung’s form all the way back to the booth with the rest of his friends who could be heard laughing- most likely at him- from all the way across the bar.

“You just shot down the second hottest guy on campus.”

“Second hottest?”

“Yeah, have you seen his friend Chan? Boy’s got abs like a washboard.”

I could practically see Felix’s mouth start to water. “Keep it in your pants, bud.” Seungmin laughed at my comment and threw an arm lazily around my shoulder. “Min, are you drunk already?” He just giggled and started poking my cheeks. I downed the rest of my drink and let Seungmin rest his head on my shoulder.

“Come on, dummies. Let’s go home.” Felix followed me out of the bar as I carried Seungmin to my car. I was pretty sure I heard cheers behind me as I opened the door, when I turned I saw Felix twirling his shirt over his head and dancing with some random guy near the exit.

“FELIX!”

He whined as I dragged him away from the guy he was dancing with. “Noooooooooooo! He was so sweet!” I laughed and strapped my best friend into the car safely. Tonight was certainly not what I had expected.

❁

A car horn blaring outside my window sent me shooting up in bed. My hair stuck up in ungodly directions. Yet another night of restless sleep.

I rubbed my eyes and checked the time. About nine in the morning. No matter how early I went to bed I never seemed to get a good night’s rest.

Lazily I rolled out of bed and slipped on some shorts. My tired body shuffled into the dorm living room. I laughed seeing Seungmin half falling off my couch, asleep; it wasn’t uncommon for him to crash at my dorm after having a few drinks. My roommate didn’t really mind seeing as she had quite the little crush on him.

Speaking of, the sound of her door opening caught my attention. “Morning Lia,” I whispered. She started to speak but covered her mouth when she saw Seungmin passed out on the couch. “You want some tea?” I asked, setting a kettle on one of the burners. She nodded, sitting down and crossing her long legs on one of the kitchen stools.

Lia was maybe a year older than me and also a theatre major with a focus in performance. She had landed the lead in many of our university productions including our current musical, Chicago.

“So, Seungmin was in quite the heated argument last night.” My dormmate’s eyes widened at the mention of the boy’s name. “He was quite adamant on making Lix understand that Roxie was the greatest lead in the show.” A dark tint rose to her cheeks as she glanced at the sleeping hungover boy on our couch. Lia was playing Roxie in our production this year.

“He probably just likes the character.”

I rose a brow and handed her a mug of tea, before sipping on my own. “Sure, he does. Because our techie Seungmin just adores the motivations of a starstruck murderess.” Somehow her cheeks grew even darker.

“I have to go work in the Shop today, could you watch him while I’m gone?” She nodded with a small smile. The Shop was what we called the costume and scene shop. Basically, the backstage tech work area was the Shop.

After finishing our tea, we parted ways and got ready for the day. I slipped on my favorite sweatpants and threw on a semi-clean crop top. Feeling a little chilly, I threw on the matching grey jacket hanging on my desk chair. After fighting with my hair for ten minutes I gave up and started packing my backpack with things I needed for the day.

I groaned looking over at the corner of my room; I’d forgotten to take four rolls of rather expensive and custom fabric to the workroom yesterday, so I had to do it today. Gathering the fabric up in my arms, I headed out.

The sidewalks were practically empty as I crossed campus on my way to the Arts part of the university. My knee pushed up a slipping fabric roll before I continued my walk, pace quickening as I saw the auditorium building up ahead. Finally, I would be able to set these down soon.

“Ahh!”

My foot caught on a crack on the sidewalk and fabric unrolled and went flying through the air. I scraped my hands against the pavement bracing my fall. Slowly I sat up and looked at my palms. They were red, some of the scrapes breaking the skin.

“Fuck. Really?”

With a groan, I reached for the nearest roll and checked the material. Thankfully the black silk was still intact and not ruined. Carefully I started the process of re-rolling it, wincing at the rawness on my hands.

“Need any help?” A voice spoke beside me. Before I could respond, the person knelt down and started rolling up another length of red material. I scoffed seeing who the voice belonged to. It was Jisung, from the bar last night.

“I’ve got it.”

“I just saw you hardcore face plant. I don’t think you’ve ‘got it’.”

He laughed at my scowl and continued to help pick up the fabric I had dropped. As I began standing up, he grabbed my hand. “What the hell dude?” I said, pulling away from his grasp.

“Woah. Chill! You scraped your hand. I’m just trying to help.”

He tucked the rolls under his arm and unzipped a pocket in his backpack, bringing out bandaids and some antiseptic spray. I eyed him warily, but let him take my hand again. He glanced up at my eyes, gauging my expression before continuing to uncap the spray.

“This will sting a little.”

“Tsk. I’ve sewed through my finger, I think I can handle- AHHH OW! FUCK!”

He laughed, his eyes turning into happy crescent moons. I had to admit he had a nice smile. Then again, how many times had that smile gotten him into the pants of half the female student body?

I watched as he opened up two bandaids, gently laid them over my palm, and covered the scrapes. When they were secure, he looked back up at me with that cocky smirk.

“Want me to kiss it better?”

I rolled my eyes and yanked my hand away. “Anyway, Jiwon-”

“Jisung.”

His brows furrowed in frustration but he quickly plastered on a more than fake smile. It was honestly kind of fun messing with him; he was so used to being treated like some kind of sex god it seemed he had forgotten what it was like to be a normal human being like the rest of us. “Thanks for the help. I’m gonna go now.”

“Hey! Wait! That’s not how you thank someone.” Jisung said, grabbing back the two rolls of fabric in his arms as I tried to take them.

“Oh? And how do you propose I thank you?”

He smirked and looked me up and down. His hand ran through his brown locks as his tongue ghosted over his lips. “Well, I mean...” He shrugged as if the thought was just occurring to him. “I can think of a few ways you could return the favor.”

“Your genitals don’t come with a built-in bulletproof shield, so you better watch yourself, fuckboy.”

Jisung visibly gulped and slowly shifted the fabric rolls in front of his waist. I almost smirked seeing the brief look of fear for his manhood; he shivered under my stare and then regained his composure. “Man, they don’t call you the Arctic Bitch for nothing.”

My face fell and I ran a hand through my hair. “Look, I’ve got work to do, corsets to make, and I have to figure out how to sew rhinestones onto a lavalier.” Jisung seemed to take notice of my change in demeanor.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Well, you’d be pretty offended if I called you a man whore. Same shit.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He scuffed his shoe on the sidewalk and played with the edge of one of the rolls. Just because I would rather get through my insane credit hours than suck up to some bitch who’d probably drop out in a year doesn’t mean I deserve to have this hurtful nickname.

“Where are you going? I’ll help you carry these.” Jisung interjected, breaking the very awkward silence. I shook my head and once again tried to take back my fabric.

“I’m fine. You can go back to class or whatever.”

“I was actually headed to the studio to record with Changbin, but I’ve got time.”

I sighed. This man was persistent and not in a good way. There was no way I was going to get rid of him. “Fine. But if you fuck up that fabric I’m making you pay for it.” He smiled and tucked the fabric under his arm, following me to the back of the auditorium building.

I watched Jisung take in everything in the hallway and on the walls as we made our way to the costume shop. “What? Have you never seen the backstage of a theater before?”

“Nah. I’ve only done small venues. Nothing with a stage like this.”

I had almost forgotten Jisung was a rapper. As we came upon the workroom door, I adjusted the fabric in my hand and then pushed the door open with my foot. Jisung followed after I motioned for him to enter the room.

“Y/n! Do we really have to bone corsets? Like can’t we just cheat and put in a plastic lining?” Felix called out not looking up from his workstation. He sounded hungover. “Lia is tiny. Why does she need a fucking corset anyway--heyyyy there’s Jisung......Y/n why is he here?”

I dumped the fabric on a work table and Jisung did the same. “I picked up a stray. Thought you might like a pet.” Jisung rolled his eyes when I pointed behind me. When I turned around, Jisung still stood with his hands in his pockets. “You can go now.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Yeah, what if he doesn’t want to, Y/n?” Felix said in a teasing tone. A quick but deadly glare sent his way quickly shut him up and caused him to turn around back to his workstation. Jisung sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Look. I’m meeting a couple friends at the bar tonight. Why don’t you come by?”

“Hard pass.”

“What if I want to go?” Felix chimed in.

“Yeah, what if he wants to go!” Jisung said with a smirk.

“Felix, shut up for like two seconds.”

Felix scoffed and returned to putting boning in a red lingerie corset. “We both know that’s not gonna happen.” He muttered under his breath. I heard Jisung let out a laugh at the little exchange.

“Whether I go to the bar or not tonight has nothing to do with you. It is probably reliant on the fact that I have no control over my best friend.” Felix chuckled behind me. Jisung shrugged and looked around the room before backing away.

“Okay.”

“Hey, Jisung! Put in a good word for me with Changbin?” Felix called out, leaning over his chair. Jisung let out a lighthearted laugh as he opened the door. Felix had a hopeful look on his face that made me want to vomit.

“Sure, why not.”

Then we were left in silence. I quickly began working, but I felt Felix’s stare on my profile. I knew he couldn’t stay silent for long. Felix couldn’t go four minutes and eighteen seconds without immediately spewing out his opinion. Seungmin and I had timed it once; exactly four minutes later, he erupted.

“ARE YOU SLEEPING WITH JISUNG?”

“Did you see me go home with him last night?”

“No....you went home with Seungmin--OH MY GOD ARE YOU SLEEPING WITH SEUNGMIN?!”

“What? No! Ew!” I said tossing an empty pin cushion at him. “Never in a million years.” Felix let out a hefty sigh of relief. My fingers quickly worked through sewing up a finished section of a corset.

Another silence followed as Felix turned back to our work. It was so obvious his thoughts were festering, just waiting to once again pop out. “So... how did Mr. Balls-for-Brains wind up helping you carry costume fabric?”

I shrugged, putting in another piece of spiral steel and lining it up in a corset panel. “He helped me when I tripped. Apparently, the music department recording studios are near here.”

“Uh....no they're not. The studios are on the other side of the Arts campus.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m pretty sure he was just hanging around the theatre buildings until he saw you.” Felix laughed as I shuddered. I took a quick breath as the needle pricked my finger. This conversation was seriously distracting me. “So....we are going out tonight though. Right?”

“I’m not going out dressed like this.”

“Just grab something from the racks. Mr. Jung won’t mind.”

“If we are going out, I’m drinking.”

“No argument from me. Then we get fun Y/n.” I threw another pin cushion at him, hearing a high pitched yelp beside me. The two of us worked for the next 6 hours until the sun started to set outside the Shop window. I let Felix dress me up from stuff on the racks and we called Lia and Seungmin to meet us at the bar.

When we arrived, it was certainly less packed than the night before. I pulled at the tight skirt Felix had put me in, wishing it to cover more of my thighs than its length allowed. Seungmin whistled as I sat down next to him at the bar. He turned my barstool to face him and Lia, who smiled and clapped at my appearance.

“Is this global warming because the Arctic is hot tonight!”

I slapped his shoulder and turned back to the bartender to order my drink. “I would recognize this anywhere. This is the work of the Great Felix Stylist extraordinaire.” Lia exclaimed, letting Felix take a bow. The bartender slid over my drink and I rested my feet against the bar stool. They were sore from the heels Felix had put me in; only once every so often would I let him play dress up on me.

The night rolled on and I even danced with Lia after a couple more drinks. We came back off the dance floor to see Jisung talking with Felix and Seungmin, his arm leaning against the bar. “Jackass alert,” I whispered to Lia as we approached.

Jisung’s eyes widened when he saw our approach. He seemed to drink in my entire body, not letting any part of me go unseen. “Hey, gorgeous.” He said with a smirk, his eyes dragging over me once again as he sipped his drink. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure, I said standing next to Felix and stealing a sip from his gin martini. I was really thirsty after dancing so much with Lia. He glanced from me back to my friends who were watching us expectantly.

“I meant alone.”

With a nod, the rest of my friends started moving towards an open booth. I stopped Felix, a hand on his martini glass. “Leave it. I’m going to need more alcohol for this.” With a sigh and longing look at his drink, he left it in my hands.

“Are you drunk?”

“Not nearly enough.” I plainly stated before drinking some more of Felix’s martini. My face soured. I forgot he liked gin. Jisung laughed as I put the drink on the bartop.

“Look. I think you and I should go out.”

“And I think you should jump off a cliff. Preferably one the size of your ego.”

“Ouch.” He said with an unaffected smile. His eyes darted to a girl walking by us, but he quickly diverted his attention back to me. I tried not visibly throw up in my mouth at the action. “Let’s hang out this week.”

“Sorry; not into late-night booty calls since...well...ever.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his brown hair, a habit of his I had picked up on. I couldn’t decide if it was out of frustration or nerves. “Come on. I’m not that bad.”

“Your reputation says otherwise.”

“I could say the same about you.”

He smirked when I fell silent. My fingers played with the rim of the martini glass. I hated that he totally won that argument.

“I’ll make you a deal,” His words made me look up and quirk an eyebrow. “For the next two months, you get dinner with me twice a week and we text once a day.”

“I’m not going on a dinner date with you. I have zero time. I have to bring home my costume work as it is.”

“I never said it was a date. I just want to get to know you, Y/n.” Jisung chuckled and adjusted the clasp of my necklace, making me freeze. “We don’t have to go out to eat. I’m sure it’s hard to focus on work with a theatre major as a roommate. You can come over and I’ll order take out.” I had to admit that the offer sounded tempting. I loved Lia but she could be loud as fuck when prepping for a show.

“Still low key sounds like a date.”

“I swear I will not touch you unless you ask me to.” He winked and I rolled my eyes. “And you will ask me to. Eventually.” A heavy and anger filled sigh left my lips and Jisung leaned away. I honestly hadn’t noticed he had gotten closer.

“Lia is going to think something is up. Felix is for sure going to think I’m sleeping with you. And Seungmin...”

“You aren’t dating Seungmin are you?”

He smiled when I shook my head no. “Anyway, there is no way I’m telling my friends I am hanging out with you.” He shrugged and sipped more on his drink. I was starting to feel a little bit of the alcohol’s effect.

“I’m chill with that. So, you bring over your costume...stuff...on Monday and we can order in and get to know each other.” I shrugged and gave him a small nod. Jisung smiled in victory.

“You do know I’m not going to let you walk away from this conversation looking that happy.”

“And how do you propose you fix that?”

“I was thinking either a slap or a drink.” Jisung laughed and downed the rest of his drink, I assumed Jack and Coke, like the night before. He motioned with his fingers and tapped his chest.

“Give me your best shot, gorgeous.” His willingness made me laugh, genuinely. “Although, I would prefer not to have a huge red mark on my cheek.”

I nodded sarcastically. “Oh. Of course. We can’t damage the precious merchandise.” He groaned when I pinched his cheek. To be honest, I could not believe I was having a nice casual conversation with Han Jisung, 3RACHA’s legendary fuckboy.

“Well then, I’ll see you on Monday. I’ll be at the Shop.”

“I’ll see you then, gorgeous.”

I rolled my eyes and picked up Felix’s martini. “ASSHOLE!” I yelled before tossing the drink in Jisung’s face. “Wow, that was really fun,” I whispered with a smile before walking away to my friends.

“Y/N THAT WAS MY DRINK!! NO! MY ALCOHOL!” Felix said, fake crying.

❁

Jisung’s POV

The gin stung my eyes and Y/n was kind of blurry as she walked away, but I could hear the smile in her voice. This was ironically the first time I had let a girl toss a drink in my face. AND FUCK I WOULD NEVER LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN.

I wiped my face and stumbled away from the bar, trying not to get even more liquor in my eye as I followed the laughter of my supposed ‘friends’ in our usual booth.

“And the King has struck out yet again,” Changbin said as I sat down. Chan laughed but handed me a napkin to wipe my stinging face. A couple strands of my hair fell wet in front of my eyes. “What is this? The third time you been denied by Y/n?” Bin laughed and drank from his (probably) fifth beer of the night.

“Han, I hate to say it. But I am so looking forward to seeing you in lingerie accepting your diploma.”

“I wouldn’t get ahead of yourself, Hyunjin.” All eyes turned to me as I blinked wildly. My vision was just starting to come back. I looked over to Y/n and her friends. Felix was chiding her about destroying his drink and Lia was high fiving her for throwing it.

“...But she threw a martini in your face. I think that qualifies failure in every book I’ve ever read.” Hyunjin scoffed. Little did he know I had Y/n exactly where I wanted her. Soon she would be eating out of my hands. She would be begging for me to sleep with her before she even knew it herself.

❁

Y/n’s POV

Three weeks had passed and I had been drowning in work. Though I hated to admit it...Jisung was the only thing keeping me sane. He had been a really good friend to me for the past few weeks. Lia was the only one who knew about my little dinner rendezvouses with Jisung. And I was correct in the fact that I had been subject to her relentless teasing.

“Are you sure you guys aren’t dating?”

“We are not dating. We are just getting dinner twice a week, getting to know each other, not seeing other people casually, and maybe some.....flirting-- AND OH MY GOD HE TRICKED ME. WE’RE DATING.”

Lia laughed at my realization. I threw down the dress I was working on for Lia’s finale scene. The sound of beads hitting the floor rung throughout the dorm. “What are you gonna do about it?” Lia questioned, adjusting herself on the couch.

“I’m going to go over there and question the shit out of his ass.”

“Hell yeah! Text me!” She cheered as I grabbed my keys and ran out the door.

I slammed my car door and stomped up the stairs of Jisung’s apartment building. A million angry thoughts ran through my mind as I stormed down the hall to his apartment. Without another thought, I burst through the front door, which was oddly...unlocked.

“HAN MOTHER FUCKING JISUNG! YOU TRICKED ME INTO DATING YOU AND I-”

I froze taking in the scene in front of me. Jisung stood wide-eyed shirtless and holding a bottle of water, sweat dripping off his forehead. Another boy, who I recognized as Chan from 3RACHA, dressed in a tank top and sweats was seated on the couch, his face full of surprise at my entrance.

“Oh- uh.....sorry...I’ll just come back when you have...clothes.”

“No, it’s fine! I was just leaving anyway. Thanks for going to the gym with me Han.” Chan grabbed his jacket and exited in the most polite power walk he could manage. Though not without giving Jisung a thumbs up and then shutting the door.

“So how long did you think you were gonna get away with this?” He smirked and opened the water bottle. I was struggling to look anywhere but his tan chest. He obviously noticed. “Oh my god. Would you please put a shirt on!” He chuckled and came closer to me.

“What? Do I make you nervous?” He looked me up and down with dark eyes. My heart pounded in my chest. “Look, I know you’re mad. But, you can’t tell me that you didn’t have fun hanging out with me. Can you?”

“No,”

“And you can’t say that you aren’t at least the tiniest bit attracted to me. Right?”

“I’m not...not attracted to you...”

Jisung smirked and slid his hand around my waist, pulling me so our chests brushed against each other. “That’s not a straight answer.” He smiled at my lack of response. Jisung was clearly enjoying this.

“Well- you’re...not a... straight answer.”

Jisung laughed and let go of me. “But, seriously Y/n. I don’t know about you, but I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you these past few weeks and I really like you.” He took my hand in his and laughed, making his eyes turn into crescents. “So, why don’t we make it official? Y/n, let’s date.”

I blinked a few times before turning away from him. This was not normal. My hands came up to my temple, a sharp pain suddenly emitting from there. “You can’t be serious,” I said, turning back to Jisung. “There’s no way you like me. You like girls for one night stands. I’m not like that. So there is no-”

Jisung’s lips crashed against mine, his hands gripping my wrists gently. He’s kissing me. What do I do? As if reading my thoughts he pulled away just enough to look into my eyes and smile. “Y/n, don’t overthink it. Just let go for once. You’re with me.”

His hand slid down to my waist and his fingers tangled in my belt loops, pulling me closer. My brain was in overdrive. I hadn’t been kissed in so long. Maybe what I said to Felix wasn’t totally the truth. Maybe I had just been depressing my long starved sex drive. Jisung was really nice and I really liked him. What would be the harm in letting myself have fun with someone I actually like for once?

“Okay...so maybe I like you a little bit.” Jisung smiled and brushed away a piece of hair near my face, grazing my cheek. My hands slowly came up to rest on his chest, his warm skin radiating off heat.

“So are we on the same page? You’re mine now?”

“Fine. I guess so,” I said with a laugh. Jisung smiled and kissed me again. His fingers dug into my hips and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

Kissing Jisung made my head spin in the best way possible. Needing air for more than one reason, I pushed against his chest. “Hey, why don’t you go shower. I’m sure you need one after working out with Chan.” He smirked, his hands slowly moving lower than my waist. “No, I’m not showering with you.”

“Damn. Worth a shot. You wanna stay? I’ll order pizza.”

“Sounds good to me.” After kissing my cheek, Jisung turned and made his way to his bathroom. When the door closed I leaned against the couch for support. Keep it cool, Y/n. I have to remember to keep my guard up. Jisung can’t possibly just change overnight. While I want to trust him...something is holding me back.

Hopefully, I’m just paranoid.

❁

I rolled over in bed, not wanting to wake up. My hand brushed up against something cold. Opening my eyes, I saw my phone under my hand. The screen was still lit up and displayed a caller ID and call time of almost five hours. I smiled seeing Jisung’s name scrolling across the top. Did we really fall asleep on the phone?

Picking up the phone, I heard the sounds of his small breaths and soft snores. “Jisung,” Another soft snore made me smile. We had only been dating officially about a week, but I was really enjoying my time with him. “Jisung?”

“Mmph...I’m up...what’s happening?” He mumbled into the phone. Jisung must have fallen asleep on top of the phone. I laughed and sat up in bed, running a hand through my messy hair.

“I think we fell asleep on the phone, Ji.” His laugh could be heard over the phone.

“Ji?”

“What?”

“That’s the first time you’ve called me something other than my name or an asshole.” I blushed and rolled out of bed. “Y/n L/n are you starting to like me?” Jisung asked, his voice rough from just waking up. The gravely low tone sent a chill down my spine.

“Well, we are dating. That’s what two people do when they like each other, dummy.” I leafed through my closet, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder. He let out what sounded like a forced laugh. Maybe it was just my imagination. It was my brain searching for things to make me not trust him.

“You want to drop by the studio later? I should be working all day but it would be kinda cool to see you.” My ears picked up on the sound of his fingers racing across a keyboard. What could he be working on this early?

No, Y/n. Don’t go there. I have to at least try and trust him. I can’t be nosy and wondering about everything in his life when we’ve only been going out a short time.

“Uh, I can probably drop by around three. I have an exam today I can’t miss.”

“Okay. I’ll text you the studio number. See you later, gorgeous.” With that, he hung up the phone. I tossed the device on my bed and finished getting dressed. A ding notified me of a text. Glancing at it, I saw Jisung sent me the number of the studio number he would be working in and a heart.

It almost set me a little on edge. I knew his personality. I even knew a few of the girls who had the unfortunate experience of falling into bed with him. It just seemed a little weird to me how doting he was with me when he was never like that with other girls.

Maybe he really was trying to make a change? That couldn’t be impossible. Could it? People change. Most often in fairytales and movies, but it happens like 1% of the time, right? These thoughts swarmed through my head as I walked into my lecture hall.

I sat in my usual seat, arriving about five minutes before class was set to begin. Looking up, I saw several sets of eyes staring at me; all belonging to different girls. Some had looked of pity, some disgust, but all looked slightly confused. Ignoring them, I pulled out my notes for a few more moments of study time.

“You’re the girl whose dating Han, am I right?”

I looked up to find a very pretty girl with blonde hair and big doe-like eyes. “Umm...yeah. Is there a problem or something?” She shook her head and sat down next to me with a smile.

“Oh! No, not at all. I just had to see for myself that’s all. My name’s Momo. I’m a dance major. I have a mutual friend of Han’s, Hyunjin.”

I nodded, glancing from her to my paper. I wasn’t really used to this much attention during class. Usually, I just focused on the lecture or project and didn’t talk much. “Yeah, I know they are friends, but I don’t really know Hyunjin myself.”

She nodded and twirled a pen between her fingers. I started to wonder what her relationship was with the boys. She was obviously gorgeous and she seemed just like Jisung’s type. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had slept together before.”I’ve just heard so much about you. All those rumors are totally bogus by the way. I would love if we could be friends.”

She took my hand in hers with a bright and blindingly white perfect smile. Did she not know what personal space was? “Uh....sure. I guess that would be cool. I’m usually pretty busy with making costumes for the university’s musical.”

“Here! Take my number! We can go get coffee sometime. I’d love to hear all the juicy tea about the girl who finally got the famous Han Jisung to stop sleeping around.” Momo ripped a piece of paper from her perfectly organized agenda and wrote her number on it. The professor started speaking as she handed it to me. Holy shit it was scented!

This day was just getting more and more confusing for me.

❁

Jisung’s POV

The studio was freezing as per usual. Even bundled up in a beanie and hoodie I was cold, pulling the sleeves further down my hands. I watched the monitor carefully and adjusted the headphones over my ears.

“Okay, Bin! You’re good.” Chan called to the boy in the booth after I gave him a thumbs up. “So, I take it things with Y/n are...good,” Chan asked hesitantly. The topic of Y/n was a sore subject for him so I was surprised he brought it up.

“Oooooo We talking about the Snow Queen?” Changbin said plopping down on the couch near the wall. I turned in my chair to roll my eyes at him. “I’m taking that as a sign you haven’t gotten in her pants yet?”

“She’s honestly kind of a prude....well. Not a prude. But you know what I mean.” Chan shook his head at my words.

Changbin threw a ball of paper at my head, making me send another glare his way. “Isn’t this the longest dry spell you’ve had. How long has it been?” I sighed pulling the headphones down around my neck.

“One month, five days, twelve hours, and twenty-two minutes.”

“You know it’s gross that you keep track like that,” Chan said taking a swig from his water bottle. “Y/n seems like a nice girl. It’s kind of sick you and Hyunjin using her like this.” I shrugged, not really caring.

“I mean, I guess. But, I would rather be $1,500 richer.”

“Just remember Y/n has feelings too.”

I nodded and turned back to the monitor looking at the track we just recorded. As if on cue, the door opened and Y/n’s voice could be heard greeting the other boys.

“Hi!- Oh! Sorry, I didn’t expect anyone else. I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

Turning, I saw her shaking hands with Changbin and Chan. “Y/n that’s Bin, and you’ve met Chan,” I said pointing to the boys. “Now you’ve met all of 3RACHA.” I pulled her hand, dragging her closer to my chair. Chan rolled his eyes when I pulled her down and kissed her cheek. The smile on her face did not go unnoticed by the boys.

“How was your exam?” I asked, playing with her fingers.

“It was okay. I passed for sure. A girl named Momo asked to get coffee with me. Apparently, she knows your friend Hyunjin.” My eyes went wide and I stood up, pulling her to my side with a nervous laugh.

“Well, uh... I think we’ve all done enough work today. Y/n you wanna go get some boba or something. I’m hungry what about you? Bye guys!” Quickly I pushed her out the door and waved goodbye to the boys.

I had my fingers crossed that Hyunjin was keeping his big mouth shut.

❁

A month and a half. That’s how long I had left before I lost and was forced to be utterly humiliated in front of the entire university. Y/n and I had been dating for almost three weeks and hanging out for longer. I had to make a move tonight.

My friend Minho had hooked me up with some tiny night vision camera that I had hidden all around my apartment. I knew Y/n was starting to trust me more, so this was the opportune time. She was coming over any minute now. I checked my reflection in the mirror and ran my hands through my hair.

$1,500 here I come.

A knock bounced off the walls of my apartment. I checked the time. 8:30 pm. She was late by about forty-five minutes, which was not usual for her. What was it she always said? Early is on time and on time is late? Some weird theater shit like that.

Something was up.

I rushed to the door and opened it to find Y/n standing at my doorstep. She gave me a tired smile and kissed my cheek in greeting. She looked like she felt awful. “Hi, Ji! Sorry, I’m late. Felix bailed on me so I had all this extra work to do for the musical and I have a semester project due this week-”

“Y/n what’s wrong?” She sighed and collapsed onto the couch. Sitting next to her I could see the concealer under her eyes attempting to hide the dark shadows. She never wore makeup unless she was going out. I was surprised even remembered that. “You can tell me anything, gorgeous.” She smiled when I took her hand.

This might be better than I thought. Comfort her. Get the proof I need. Shove it in Hyunijn’s face. I could tell she was deciding whether or not to trust me. If it was something small she would tell me no problem.

But... maybe this was something bigger.

“I’m just...really stressed.” She said, pushing her hair away from her face. I could see the wall she had slowly building itself back up. There was pain behind her eyes. She was hurting. Why did that make me sad?

“That’s not all this is.” I turned towards her fully, giving her my complete attention. She crossed her legs up on the couch and stared at her fingers. When I lifted her chin I saw tears on the brink of falling from her eyes.

“I just... feel like...- nevermind it’s stupid.” She shook her head and looked around my apartment. She tried to laugh it off but frowned when she saw my face. Y/n let out a shaky breath when I took her hands in mine, resting them in her lap.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. Just sitting across from each other on the couch. She seemed to be working up the courage to tell me something.

“Nothing I ever do...seems to be...enough.” I looked at her, waiting for her to continue. “I work my ass off. All the time. But, it feels like I can’t do anything right lately. Not enough for my mom. Not enough for my teachers. Certainly not enough for Tech Recruiters. I just feel like I’m falling short on everything I do. And I’m tired. I just want to be enough for someone. But, who am I kidding? Nobody likes me. I’m Seoul University’s Arctic Bitch, right? I’m too coldhearted and selfish to get anywhere in life, let alone convince any theatre company to hire me so I can pay off my student loans. I’m just so fucking tired of feeling this way. Sorry for whining. I know you probably had other plans for tonight.”

She wiped the tears from her cheeks and stared out the living room window. “Hey,” I said pulling her attention back to me. Surprisingly, she let me reach up and wipe a tear from her cheek. “Look at me,” Reluctantly Y/n met my eyes. “You are more than enough for me.” She looked down and smiled, wiping more tears on her sleeve.

“Really?”

“Really.” I ran my thumb over her knuckles and smiled at her. It took a lot for her to open up to me like that. “You have just been bottling this up haven’t you?” She nodded and wiped another tear, before looking back up at me. Her eyes were still beautiful even when she was crying. “I do that too. It’s a habit we should both fix. Could you talk to Lia? Or Felix?”

She shook her head and started playing with my fingers. I started to like the feeling of her smaller hands in mine. “Lia has her own stuff to worry about. Her dad keeps pressuring her to join an entertainment company. And Felix...well Felix means well, but...” I was relieved to see her smile again. Her laugh was contagious.

“Yeah, I get it. Kind of like Changbin and Chan. They mean well, but they don’t understand sometimes.”

She nodded and played with one of the rings on my right hand. “Thank you for listening. It really means a lot that I can trust you like this.”

“You trust me?”

“I never thought I would say that but... I would never have told Felix that and he is my best friend.”She reached up a cupped my cheek. Her hands were warm and inviting. I stared into her eyes no longer seeing hurt behind her E/c orbs.

“You’re beautiful. You know that?” I said without thinking. My eyes widened and I pulled away from her touch. I had never said anything like that. Usually, everything I said to Y/n had a purpose or plan behind it. But, I just spoke without thinking.

Y/n smiled, her eyes turning even brighter. She leaned forward and kissed me. Something about this kiss felt different than the times I had kissed her before. My heart started to race and goosebumps crawled over my skin. I smiled when her hands pulled me closer to her, tangling her fingers through my hair.

A sigh escaped my chest when her teeth grazed over my lip. She pulled away only for a second to catch her breath before coming back to me. I pulled away when she threw her leg over my lap and straddled me. “What are you doing?” I asked as she kissed from my lips down to my jaw. It was exciting not to be in control for once.

“Showing you how much you mean to me,” She whispered before kissing my lips again. Instinctively, my hands gripped her waist wanting for no space left between my body and hers. I felt close to Y/n in a different way. I feel like I had been in this exact position with other girls, but with her it was different. Something about kissing her like this felt intimate. Like it was just for us to share.

Fuck. The cameras. They were still recording all over the apartment.

“Uh- Y/n...” I said pulling away from her, my hands planted firmly on her hips. “Are you sure you want to do this, gorgeous?” My eyes widened as she nodded and continued to drag her lips across mine. “Because we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Please tell me to stop. If you don’t I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.

“Ji, I want this. Do you?”

“You have no idea.”

“Good. Do you trust me?” Y/n asked with a mischievous smile. I nodded watching her eyes twinkle in the low light of my apartment. She dragged her fingers down my chest and pulled at the hem of my shirt. As soon as the fabric was over my head and flung somewhere in the living room she smashed her lips onto mine.

My thoughts were running a mile a minute. How was I supposed to turn off all the cameras without her knowing? After seeing her in pain, I couldn’t hurt her like that. An idea popped in my head. Wrapping my arms around her waist I pulled her up and carried her, pushing her back against the nearest wall.

Her legs tightened around my waist, holding herself up. She looked down at me with hooded eyes before kissing me again. With one hand I kept her steady while the other searched the bookshelf next to me for the camera I put in the living room. Feeling the metal and plastic, I quickly turned it around blocking its view.

There should just be two more in my bedroom. “Ji,” Y/n moaned into my lips. She was driving me crazy. I was already more worked up from this than I had ever been with any other girl. She giggled when I carried her through the bedroom door and pressed her up against the wall. “You know...I haven’t done this in a pretty long time...” Her words were breathy and cut off when she joined her lips back to mine.

“You could have fooled me.”

My mind was kind of in a haze. All I could think about was Y/n. I couldn’t think straight with her hands all over me. Where did I put the second camera again? Her lips trailed down to my neck sending my brain and body into overdrive. Come on, Han. Focus.

The desk! Then the third was by my nightstand. I moved us over slowly, hoping she wouldn’t notice. I wanted to touch her so badly. But, I couldn’t betray her trust after she opened up to me like that. Joining my lips with hers, I felt blindly around the table for the small device. After I found it, I tucked it behind the monitor.

“Are you sure, gorgeous?” I asked one more time looking into her eyes.

“Jisung, stop asking or I swear I’m gonna-”

“You’re gonna what?”

“I don’t know. Just kiss me damn it.” She smiled when I smashed my lips onto hers. Her fingers pulled at my hair as I dragged my lips down her jaw. She joined our lips as I picked her up and carried her to the bed. The bed dipped as she laid on the mattress. Before I could reach for the nightstand she pulled me over, straddling me on the bed again.

I tried to keep my brain clear as she attacked my neck and chest with her lips. Knowing she was distracted, I grabbed the camera and threw it across the room wanting this to be done. Her head turned at the sound, but I pulled her back to my lips.

“You drive me crazy,” I whispered, reaching down and pulling at the hem of her shirt. My lips latched onto every bare piece of skin I could find, wanting to feel every part of her. I was ready to be with her, in more ways than I had thought.

❁

Y/n’s POV

I lay in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. Jisung laid beside me his arm slung across my stomach and soft snores leaving his lips. I smiled seeing him next to me. I had slept for a few hours but like usual, I had woken up in the middle of the night unable to fall back asleep.

Shifting onto my side, I looked at Jisung. He looked peaceful in his sleep. There was always something active about him when he was awake. Like he was never still. Seeing him in a state of calm was intriguing. My hand brushed the side of his cheek. A strand of his brown hair fell over his eyes, so I gently pushed it back and softly moved my hands through his locks.

Jisung let out a little hum in his sleep, making me smile. I started to pull away my fingers but Jisung’s hand shot up to keep it there, startling me. “What’s wrong, gorgeous?” Jisung mumbled, placing my hand back in his messy hair.

“I can’t sleep. Don’t worry about me.” I said quietly going back to playing with his soft brown tresses. He shook his head, brows furrowing in the cutest way. His fingers latched themselves onto my wrist, rubbing his thumb against my skin.

“I’m not sleeping unless you are,” He whispered, obviously half asleep.

“Shhh. Ji, go back to sleep.” Instead of complying he tugged me into his bare chest and started tracing soothing patterns on my lower back. In all honestly just that alone was making me just a little sleepy. My eyes were starting to droop, just laying in his arms, but my brain was still wide awake.

Suddenly, my ears picked up on the soft sound of Jisung singing. It was slow and gentle, his voice a little rough from sleep, but beautiful all the same. His voice was like honey, soothing my entire body. My fingers started to slow their movements as I tucked myself into Jisung’s chest.

I finally fell into a deep sleep listening to Jisung softly sing to me.

❁

Light streamed through the window, hitting me straight in the face. I groaned and tried to roll over. My brows furrowed when something stopped me. My tired eyes opened more to see Jisung still sounds asleep, holding onto me like a teddy bear.

Sensing my movements, Jisung’s eyes cracked open and smiled. “Good morning, gorgeous,” His voice was scratchy and low, sending chills down my spine. Jisung pushed himself up on his elbow and hovered over me with a drowsy smile.

“Morning, Ji,”

He genuinely smiled down at me and leaned down pressing his lips against mine. I felt him smile when I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Do you have class this morning?” He asked against my lips, which were most likely swollen from last night. Jisung himself had several darkening marks on his neck and collarbone.

“Not until tomorrow. Do you?”

“I was supposed to go record with Chan and Bin.”

“Supposed?”

“Like hell, I am going to leave you looking this beautiful in my bed,” Jisung said pressing his lips down my neck. “You want a shower? I’m gonna call Chan and tell him I’m not coming.” I nodded and pulled him up to my lips one more time.

“Thank you for last night, Ji. For everything.”

He smiled and kissed my cheek. “Feel free to borrow some of my clothes,” Jisung said with a smirk before rolling over and grabbing his phone on the nightstand. I grabbed a hoodie from his closet while he was distracted with his phone and headed to the bathroom.

❁

Jisung’s POV

“Chan, I’m in deep shit,” I whispered into the phone. I checked to make sure Y/n was out of the room. Chan scoffed over the line.

“Han. It is way too early for this. Did you accidentally email your professor a pornhub link again?”

“What no!” Chan sighed. “Look, Y/n’s over here.” He started freaking out over the phone. I sighed letting his panic play out.

“Oh no, no, no. You are not dragging me into this. Y/n is a nice girl. I want nothing to do with your and Hyunjin’s sick bet-”

“I think I’m starting to really like her. Like a lot.”

There was silence on the other side of the line. I decided that he was probably waiting for more information. Or he had passed out. Either was a probable response from Chris. “But, she’s at your apartment? Han, it’s like ten in the mornin-...You didn’t.” He took my silence as confirmation. “How could you? You said you like her!”

“I didn’t technically. I had these cameras set up, but I turned them off after she opened up to me and stuff started to happen.”

“YOU SET UP ACTUAL CAMERAS TO FILM HER?”

Chan screamed so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. Even then I could still hear him. “Did you hear the part where I said I turned them off. I have no proof....and honestly....I’m starting to question if I want any.”

“Wow. Good for you. You’ve had personal growth. Whoop-de-doo.”

“Hey. I am asking for advice, not sarcasm.” I said with a sigh. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling it sticking up in weird places. “What should I do? Chan...I really like Y/n, but I’ve been lying to her up until now.”

“You’ve got to tell her the truth eventually.”

“But, what if she hates me. I don’t think I could handle hurting her.” Chan sighed again. I could practically see his face. The guy probably just woke up and I was putting all this stress on him.

“I don’t know what to tell you,”

“I get it. Just don’t tell anyone about what we talked about, okay? At least until I figure out how to tell Y/n. I’m gonna stay here and think about it.” With that, I hung up the phone and laid back in bed. My fingers massaged my temple, feeling a sharp pain there.

Did I really want to keep up this bet?

❁

Y/n’s POV

A weel later Jisung and I were doing even better than we were before. We were actually going out on dates and also...staying in and doing...other things. Jisung had invited me to come and see 3RACHA perform tonight at a local club, so Felix was fussing over my outfit.

“Felix, I am not fitting into that dress.”

“You can squeeze!”

“A Polly pocket couldn’t fit into that tiny ass thing!”

“Come on, Y/n! Be my Barbie!” Felix said chasing me around the costume shop with a tiny piece of white fabric that barely passed the social standard of being a dress. Eventually, he tackled me and wrestled me into the tight-fitting dress.

“I feel naked.”

“Oh, please. He’ll love it.” Felix said throwing a pair of heels at me. I looked longingly at my pair of old tennis shoes. “If you aren’t wearing pumps at least wear some boots. We are clubbing after all.”

“Lix, we aren’t clubbing. We are watching Han perform.”

“Same difference.”

I sighed and slipped on the black heeled boots Lix threw on my workstation and grabbed the brightly colored graffiti jacket that Jisung ‘left’ at my dorm. He had been leaving more and more of his clothes lying around my room. I wasn’t complaining.

I drove both of us to the club and covered my ears entering the loud establishment. 3RACHA were already up on stage and performing a song so we pushed our way to the front. All the boys looked a little tipsy and had beers up on stage with them. Jisung saw me in the crowd and blew a kiss in my direction sending the whole crowd into a frenzy.

The show was incredible, though after I couldn't seem to get anywhere near Jisung. All the boys were hounded with fans and the crowd around them was too big to get through. “This is ridiculous. I can’t even get to my own boyfrien-” My world stopped when I looked over in Jisung’s direction by the bar. I swear everything happened in slow motion.

A girl with long platinum blonde wavy hair was draped all over Jisung’s arm. He talked to her while drinking yet another beer. I watched as she leaned up and cupped his cheeks, bringing him down for a sloppy kiss. The crowd cheered and I began to feel dizzy. “Y/n,” I heard Felix say, grabbing onto my elbow.

“I’ve gotta get out of here.”

The bass was so loud I could feel it pounding against my brain as I pushed through the crowd of dancing bodies. I heard someone calling my name, but I didn’t really want to talk to anybody. I just needed air. I needed to think.

“Y/n!”

I finally broke through the crowd and made my way outside the club. Where was my car? Where the fuck did I park? I ran a hand through my hair and looked around me trying to find my car in the see of dimly lit vehicles.

“Y/n!” A hand grabbed my arm and turned me around. Jisung stood before me, clearly drunk with lipstick all over his face. “Y/n, baby, it’s not what you think.” His voice, which had become my favorite sound, was slurred and broken up.

“Not what I think? Tell me, then. What was it?”

“Mina, she was drunk. She kissed me, but it didn’t mean anything. You know I only have feelings for you.” Did I know that? There was always this little thought in the back of my mind no matter how much I trusted Jisung that told me I was just another number in his playbook.

“Yes, she did kiss you. But that is a fucking cop-out. Because there is a reason she felt like that was an option.”

I tried to push away the tears that threatened to fall. Jisung broke looking at me. I wanted nothing more than for him to hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay, but I didn’t know if I could trust him right now. I could tell it hurt him when he reached out and I backed away, tears inevitably falling down my cheeks.

“Don’t cry. I die when you cry.”

“Jisung you can’t do that!” I said watching a tear drip down his cheek.

“What?”

“You can’t make me love you when I’m supposed to hate you!” I said slapping his shoulder and letting the tears flow freely. Not hesitating, he wrapped me up in his arms, even when I tried to push him away. He let me cry on his shoulder and beat on his chest until it physically hurt to breathe.

“You’re right. It is a cop-out.” His hand came up and rubbed my back like he had done every night he stayed with me. “Y/n, I’m so sorry I let it happen. I don’t know what I was thinking.” My knuckles turned white, gripping onto his shirt.

“Jisung, I’m tired of being hurt.”

“You are my everything, gorgeous.” He said lifting up my chin. I hated crying and feeling like this. It just sucked not being able to trust him when I wanted to be with him so badly.

“How do I know I’m not just another random hookup for you?”

“Because...” My heart dropped when he couldn't say anything.

“That’s the answer I needed. Thanks.”

I started to walk away but he grabbed my arm, pulling me back into his chest. Jisung smashed his lips on mine, desperation, and passion filling the kiss making my knees go weak.

“That’s how.” He said, pulling away.

❁

I woke up the next morning, in Jisung’s bed light streaming through the window. I really should get him curtains. I smiled thinking back to last night. Jisung promised to show me that I wasn’t just another girl to him. And boy did he. I had never felt so loved than when I was with Jisung last night.

I grabbed a big shirt of his that was lying around and slipped it over my head. My feet carried me out into his living room, where bright sunlight illuminated his only slightly messy apartment. A note on the coffee table caught my eyes.

Morning gorgeous,

Went out to get coffee and breakfast for us.

I’ll be back soon, so sit tight.

Ji <3

I smiled at his handwriting and the heart he left me. Lifting my legs up, I got comfortable on the couch and waited for Jisung to get back. The sound of a notification filled the room. Did I leave my phone in here?

I searched for the device and found it face-up on the counter. It said I had one voicemail. Swiping on the notification the voicemail started playing. The voice of a boy I didn’t recognize filled the living room as I brought the phone back over to the couch. “Hey, it’s Hyunjin,” Oh. This must be Jisung’s phone. I was about to put it back until I heard the boy continue.

“Just reminding you, you’ve got two weeks to get into Y/n’s pants or you lose the bet. Your reputation as campus King is on the line, bro. Oh and don’t forget the cash prize.”

I couldn't move.

❁

Han Jisung’s POV

The coffee line took forever, but I finally got my order and excited the shop. I was trying to balance the cup holder in one hand and hold the door open for another customer when something slammed into my shoulder. “Hey! Watch it!”

“Han?”

I looked up to see Hyunjin with a sly grin on his handsome face. “Hyunjin?” He clapped me on the back and helped me hold the door. “What’s up, man?” I asked when we were both standing outside.

“I actually just called you like twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh, sorry I think I left my phone at my apartment.” I shrugged, trying to move along the conversation. Hyunjin was the last person I wanted to see. Especially after what happened last night with Y/n. “What about?”

“Just to remind you that you’ve got two weeks until you officially lose our bet. Don’t worry, I left a message so you can’t forget.”

My heart dropped to my stomach. My phone was still in the apartment with Y/n. “Oh, shit,” I muttered, eyes going wide. Hyunjin seemed to pay my reaction no mind. He was still stuck in his own world like usual.

“Whose the other coffee for by the way?”

Fuck. She was gonna hear the message. No. She can’t hear it from Hyunjin. That asshole is going to ruin any chance I have left with her. Dropping the coffee and take away bag, I started sprinting across campus back to my apartment.

“HAN, WHAT THE FUCK?”

I prayed that Y/n was still asleep. Maybe I could get there before she woke up, delete the message and just put this whole bet thing behind me. Doing Hyunjin’s punishment seemed like nothing compared to losing Y/n. I burst through the lobby doors and spotted my landlord already in his office.

“Mr.Kang!”

“Good lord! Mr. Han, what can I do for you?”

“Uh...my girlfriend- the uh woman I came back with last night. Has she left yet?” I said completely out of breath. He stared at me like I was insane.

“Not to my knowledge. I didn’t even realize you were serious about someone.”

Before he even finished his sentence, I was pushing myself off his doorframe and racing to the elevator. I slammed the button and watched the elevator come down but it was taking too long for me. “Fuck this.” Racing up the stairs my heart pounded in my chest. Would she even still be there? Or would she just leave and not give me a second chance?

“Y/n?” I called halfway down the hall. I could care less about my neighbors at this point. “Y/n?” I burst through the door, knowing I left it unlocked. I let out a sigh seeing Y/n seated on the couch. My face fell, when I saw the dried tears on her cheeks. Without looking at me, she reached in front of her and played a recording on my phone. Hyunjin’s voice filled the room.

“Hey, it’s Hyunjin. Just reminding you, you’ve got two weeks to get into Y/n’s pants or you lose the bet. Your reputation as campus King is on the line, bro. Oh and don’t forget the cash prize.”

She stood up and kept her stare on the phone. She looked broken.

“Are you going to say something?” Her voice cracked like she was holding back tears.

All I could do was cross to her and take her in my arms. I held onto her, cradling her head against my chest, my heart still racing from the mild panic attack that was just now catching up to me.

“Thank god you’re still here.”

I felt a few tears fall from my cheek and into her hair. “Jisung...was that all I was to you? Some payout? A way to keep your title of Biggest Fuckboy on campus?” She pushed away from me and walked to the other side of the room. The distance felt like miles.

I could feel my heart breaking. “What-no. Maybe at the beginning, but it doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t matter? It doesn’t matter, Jisung? Yes. Yes, it does matter. You can’t keep lying to me and expect me to forgive you every time.” She yelled at me from across the room. I had never seen her this hurt or angry and it killed me.

“Y/n, please. Listen to me.”

“Listen to you? Your buddy Hyunjin just told me the whole fucking thing!”

“No! You have to hear it from me! What he said- it’s all turned around and screwed up. That’s why I wanted to be the one to tell you.” She backed away as I came closer.

“Why didn’t you just tell me last night?”

“Because I was afraid! I was afraid none of this would be real and this feeling would go away; that the meaning would be lost.”

“The meaning of what, Jisung?”

I grabbed her hand in desperation, scared she might walk out the door at any moment. “This. Right here. Us. You and me.”

“Jisung, there is no you and me anymore.” She said pulling away and walking back towards the bedroom. I raced forward and blocked the doorway. “Jisung, move.” She said pushing against my chest.

“No.”

“Jisung! I want out! I can’t love someone I can’t trust.” She pushed through me with as much force as she could manage. I watched as she picked up the dress she was wearing last night from the floor. She tore off my shirt that she was wearing and threw it in my face. Y/n struggled to put the white dress back on before grabbing her shoes and trying to walk past me.

“Y/n! Don’t leave, please.”

“How much was I worth Jisung? How much money were you going to get for fucking me?”

“$1,500. But, I didn’t take it! I didn’t even tell them that I slept with you because I didn’t care about the bet anymore. Y/n, please believe me. I will get down on my knees if you want me to.” She just stared at me in the doorway. “I will do anything to get you to stay.” Another silence passed. I felt small under her gaze. She had every right to be furious at me.

“Kneel.”

Quickly, I got down on my knees. I had never moved faster in my entire life. I looked up at her, sharing the same tear-stained cheeks. To my surprise, she got on her knees with me and wrapped her arms around my neck.

“Please, don’t hurt me anymore, Ji.”

Nodding I wrapped my arms around her and pulled Y/n into my lap. “I’m so sorry...I’m so sorry. I love you, Y/n. I’m sorry.” I cried into her shoulder. We just sat on the floor of my bedroom, holding onto each other, waiting for what would happen next.

❁

Y/n’s POV

The zipper on Jisung’s graduation gown was being a real pain in the ass. It had gotten stuck two inches from the top. They had already called my name and given me a diploma, so I came to sit with my boyfriend. He fidgeted while I sat in his lap.

“Man, this thing is tight.”

“Well, keep in mind I didn’t make it for you. I made it for Lia. Also, do you know how many girls would love their waist to fit into this?” I said slapping his shoulder.

“I think I’d rather be able to breathe.”

“Beauty is pain, Ji.” I said as I messed with his zipped. He nervously tapped on my thigh and waist as he listened to the Dean call out the names of students. “Damn this zipper.” My years of costume study were now being defeated by the zipper on my boyfriends graduation robe. “Ah-ha!” The zipper finally complied and moved up to the top of the robe.

“Han Jisung. Music Production Major.” The Dean called out over the speakers.

“Knock em dead, Ji,” I said kissing his cheek. Jisung smiled and walked up to the stage. Before the Dean could hand him his diploma Jisung unzipped his robe and the entire student body was filled with gasps and laughs. Jisung proudly presented himself wearing the red and black lingerie and corset I had made for Lia in the musical. It left nothing to the imagination, especially below the bodice.

The look on the Dean’s face was priceless and Jisung twirled in front of him and laughed along with our graduating class. Jisung shook the Dean’s hand and took his diploma. Before he walked off the stage he turned around pushed his robe aside and slapped his own ass receiving many cheers and wolf whistles from the students.

I laughed as he came back to his seat. He gave me a great big kiss and pulled me back onto his lap. “That was a piece of cake,” Jisung said, wrapping his arms around my stomach and resting his chin on my shoulder. I kissed his forehead with a big grin.

“I have never been so attracted to a man in lingerie.”

❁

Requests are open! Just send and ask, lovelies!

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chalkrevelations · 3 years

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So, Episode 7 of Word of Honor, and where to start? No, I’m kidding, I know exactly where I’m starting, which is with some recognition of what a great job this show does of developing 98 percent of its multitude of characters, because the first two things I’m going talk about this week aren’t even Zhou Zishu, Wen Kexing OR Wen Kexing’s thirst (AKA, the three main characters of the show).

Well, I guess I’m really starting with the usual warning – this is a re-watch and so there are SPOILERS here, not only for this episode, but for most of the show. Scroll away and come back later if you’re trying to watch all 36.5 eps unspoiled.

SO, I mean, come on. Of course I’m starting with the Smartest Man in the World, who has finally shown up in this episode, and I’m reminded once again what an actual cinnamon roll, too good for this world, Cao Weining is. He’s maybe the single completely good character we meet – even Chengling wants to burn down somebody’s house at one point because he’s mad. But Cao Weining is almost too good to be true – and yet, there he is! Living his best life, being good, eating good, falling in love, and refusing to let his beautiful, clever, fierce girl’s neuroses come between them. I love him, y’all. And not just because he instantly falls in love with A-Xiang when he happens to see her beat up a bunch of drunk bro assholes in the inn where he’s having a quiet little lunch by himself before she storms into his life like a purple whirlwind. But let’s do think about this from his perspective, yeah? And let’s remember it as we watch the progression of their relationship, as we wait for the revelation we know is coming, and as – many eps down the line – he learns the truth of her. Cao Weining’s first experience of A-Xiang is someone who’s brave and capable, who defies outsized odds to come to the rescue of those in need, who doesn’t allow women and girls to be abused, who expects proper behavior from the representatives of the jianghu, and who is absolutely fearless in demanding just treatment and never even thinks to be intimidated when she faces unfair censure from an authority figure. This is the girl WKX raised, y’all. This is a girl who embodies everything Cao Weining has been taught to believe in as a cultivator. And this is the girl Cao Weining sees every time he looks at A-Xiang. Maybe, just maybe, this is the truth of her, and Cao-dage sees and understands it from the very first time he spots her, and anything else he’ll learn about her is really extraneous. (Hmm. I wonder what other relationship we’ll eventually end up seeing that kind of dynamic in, where someone truly knows you and believes in you, so everything else is unimportant?) Also, Cao Weining tells A-Xiang she’s very beautiful, and how many people do you think have ever told her that before in her life? He asks why he would want to fight and hurt her, and how many people – particularly men, given where she grew up – have ever told her that before? He buys her lunch – twice, because the first round gets cold. Remember a few episodes back, when WKX asked her who the second cutest person in the world was, and she responded that it was someone who would buy her a meal? Well, here he is. For bonus points, it is hilarious how badly WKX responds to Cao Weining’s very existence after ZZS points out the pair of them having a toast at the same inn that WKX and ZZS have stopped in WKX has dogged ZZS’s footsteps into. Poor Cao Weining doesn’t even get the shovel talk – although to be fair, he doesn’t get the full-court Ghost Valley Master press, either, so WKX must have been holding back somewhat – he just gets told to get out, before WKX grabs A-Xiang by the ear and delivers some scathing commentary on her taste in men, like he didn’t immediately fall for some rando who was tits out, drinking himself to death in the gutter.

ANYWAY, from the Smartest Man in the World, we’re going to move to Han Ying, My Beloved, who we see interacting with the Five Lakes Alliance again, this time in the person of Gao Chong, leader of Yueyang Sect and host of the upcoming Heroes Conference, da-ge of the 5LA. I had honestly forgotten we got to see so much of Han Ying this early on. What strikes me here is that this is a guy who I actually could believe is the second-in-command of Tian Chuang at what is it? 21 years old? When he’s doing his job, and ZZS is nowhere around for him to make pining puppy-dog eyes at, he’s focused and determined and a bit forceful and somewhat threatening and, frankly, appropriately arrogant for the job he’s been sent to do. He’s also wearing a cloak with a mini-Collar of Evil. He comes off as, dare I say, a capable leader of an assassin organization and a guy who’s able to do a proxy flex for his boss without looking completely ridiculous - which puts him one up on Duang Pengju, omg that asshole, and also makes me feel a little better about how I want ZZS to wreck him (or I guess, technically, him to wreck ZZS, because I’ve never seen a character (except Marcus Flavius Aquila, THANK YOU for your service, Channing Tatum) who put off such subby service-top vibes. WHY is there not more Han Ying/ZZS on AO3, fandom? I thought better … worse? … better? … of you.) When Gao Chong claims the Glazed Armor is a myth, Han Ying basically calls this older, respected zongzhu a liar and gets up in his face before refusing a dinner invitation and sweeping out in his mini-Collar of Evil with a credible “PAH.” My boy has layers, y’all.

What else? We start out the ep at Luo Mansion, a wedding scene, and I’m struck by how the Ghost Valley colors match traditional wedding colors, here. I’m thinking about how A-Xiang’s wedding dress won’t be red (and I think green was more common during the Tang dynasty?) although all the decorations will be, and I’m thinking about how we have this wedding as a book-end to that wedding, and I’m thinking about how it’s interesting that a girl who was raised in the Ghost Valley and protected by the Department of the Unfaithful meets a man who’s going to be so faithful to her in the same episode as this wedding with/of the dead. Ghoul, who’s one of the attendees from the Ghost Valley, also remarks that the red makes him hungry, so there’s a meat reference to throw into the thematic basket, I guess. (Also, hey. Ghoul is played by the same guy who’s Sun Yongren in Killer & Healer.) Lovelace (ugh) briefly menaces one of the Department handmaidens before Luo Fumeng shows up, and I think she’s Yun Zai or Hong Lu, one of the two maids that A-Xiang rescued from him, although I’m not positive, because her hairstyle is so different and hides a lot of her face, here. So, we’re all attending the “wedding” of Mu Yunge, the apparent fuckboy who got got a couple of episodes ago as bait for Ao Laizi when Changing Ghost got his hands (briefly) on the Danyang Glazed Armor. We did see a brief scene with Yunge in the last ep, when he woke up tied up in bed, being menaced by someone who appeared to be his dead lover – who hanged herself while pregnant with their child – but turned out to be Beauty Ghost using a face-masking technique similar to ZZS’s disguises. In the interim, Ghost Valley has kidnapped 10 cultivators as his wedding party, and – this is the important plot point – that includes Deng Kuan, head disciple of Yueyang Sect. We get to see some of Beauty Ghost’s ruthlessness here, as she carries in the dead woman’s memorial tablet draped in a red cloth – how’s that for some foreshadowing (my f’kn HEART) – to set it down in the “bride’s” place before Yunge is forced to bow three times. (Dead girlfriend was a Mo from Broken Arrow Manor, and I … am not sure if that is significant or not. Is she possibly related to Mo Huaiyang? Does anyone know which sect is associated with Broken Arrow Manor?) Beauty Ghost also kills two of the 10 “guest” cultivators for talking without permission as she explains the next event to them – cage match. Only one of them gets to get out alive. Deng Kuan, the best of them, apparently, pleads with everyone to not let themselves be divided, but we can all guess how this is going to go. I guess maybe he’s the other completely good character we meet, but he sure is a punching bag. He ends up the last man, sort of, standing, as he kills the final other person in self-defense, but not before getting stabbed, and he goes down and is out for the count.

Meanwhile, cut to Zhao Jing and Shen Shen drinking and gossiping at an inn on the way to Yueyang. Shenshen – Shenshen – continues to bemoan Chengling’s uselessness, and also talks about the torture the other Zhang family members underwent just in time for Chengling to overhear in the hallway, so thanks a lot for even more trauma, Shenshen. Zhao Jing is so sad about it all, y’all. He’s just so very very sad, can we just stop talking about it, Shenshen, because you’re making him sad, and he’s just going to let Da-ge figure it all out, OK? Uh-huh.

Fourth plot thread of the episode is ZZS skulking around, following Chengling, trying to convince himself that this kid is safe now that he’s turned himself in to gone to live with the 5LA, even as ZZS spots Tian Chuang spies in the ranks of the Yueyang disciples and among the dumpling vendors on the streets outside. ZZS follows the dumpling vendor, gives him a code phrase and almost gets his head taken off by a Scorpion blade for his trouble, before stabbing Dumpling Man in response. WKX picks this exact moment to wander back into ZZS’s orbit, taking the chance to flirt as Dumpling Man spits up blood and dies in the alleyway, because of course he does. WKX tsks, accuses ZZS of being cruel, and quotes some poetry about fair faces and poisonous hearts, which - like all of his poetry - has a double meaning, because which of them is he really talking about, ZZS or himself? ZZS notes that WKX is openly wearing the (Danyang) Glazed Armor because of course he’s looking for trouble, but WKX loosens his stays and clutches his pearls and replies that he couldn’t possibly be looking for trouble – him? Philanthropist Wen? He’s not a merciless killer like ZZS. Whereupon ZZS finally says out loud what he’s been clearly thinking since he started going on about what an awful person he is in the LAST EPISODE, which is why the hell don’t you stop following me around, then? There’s some more flirting, and WKX continues to follow ZZS around, and ZZS takes note that WKX is obviously flaunting the Glazed Armor out in the open, and then there’s a little sleight of hand when Famous Pickpocket Fan Bu Zhi, oh noes! Steals WKX’s Glazed Armor right off his belt when he isn’t even looking! before WKX continues to follow ZZS around, conveniently into the same inn where Cao Weining and A-Xiang are having lunch. After WKX attempts to chase him away, we discover Cao Weining has had his wallet stolen. WKX deploys his Sadness Eyebrows to convince ZZS to turn over his wallet to pay for Cao Weining’s and A-Xiang’s lunch. ZZS – who does an admirable job of refusing for a bit – finally caves, and WKX orders lunch for everyone, on ZZS. Now all we need is Chengling, because the fam is not complete without Goldbean.

#cao wening #gu xiang #han ying #liu qianqiao #beauty ghost #zhou zishu #wen kexing #word of honor #word of honor episode reax

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buckys-black-dress · 4 years

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a fine line, part three

a/n: okay. here we go. part three bitches. tbh i write these author’s notes before i start writing, which is why i also have one at the end of the chapter-- so idrk how many more parts this baby’s gonna have. also, tumblr fucked up and ate my first draft, so fuck you tumblr. but here we go! enjoy, again, thank you for reading/sharing/commenting/reblogging whatever etc etc. i love you all! <3 -ali

wc: 2.5k

You truly think that you’re going to throw up.

You haven’t moved out of your apartment since you came back from James’ apartment.

Your phone has been non-stop vibrating since you got off your phone call with Natasha, and she’s the only one you’ve kept updated on the situation. You told her she could... vaguely explain to Wanda and Carol what happened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave your apartment.

You were a mess, to say the least.

Natasha had tried to come by to see if you were alright, but you couldn’t let her in. You were embarrassed. James kissed you, and he made you look like a fool. He thought he could make things better by kissing you, but every time you remembered what his lips felt like on yours, all you could feel was humiliation.

Did he think you were that easy? That if he kissed you and slept with you, that it would erase your past with him?

You didn’t know what to think, and it was eating you alive.

You usually knew. You knew how to think rationally, to think things through, and to make the right decision.

But now, you felt like you knew nothing.

And now, you have to show up to class next week and teach alongside the man who made you look like a joke.

On the other hand, James was quite literally losing his shit.

He felt like an idiot.

After he kissed you, he realized two things.

One, he was idiot.

And two, he liked you. A lot.

Well, it was more or less Steve that led him to both conclusions, but hey, he got there.

When he called Steve after you quite literally fled his apartment, he realized just how fucking stupid what he did was.

“Buck, you gotta see this from her perspective. For a year, you ridiculed her every chance you got, and all of a sudden you spring all this shit on her that you didn’t mean it, etcetera etcetera. And then you kiss her. She’s quiet, shy. I don’t talk to her about personal things much, but Nat knows. She trusts her, and she tells her about everything she’s been through. A week ago, she thought you hated her. You just humiliated her and made it look like she was easy, someone you could kiss and fuck and move past your history with her.” Steve spoke through the phone to his friend.

After listening to everything that Bucky said, Steve couldn’t understand just how stupid his friend was.

“I- I never meant for it to be like that. I do like her, a lot. And I feel like such an idiot for what I did before. She- After watching her sit in my house, after seeing her with Alpine, I just... I realized just how fucking wrong I was... And now she’s never gonna talk to me again.” Bucky realizes, and it hits him like a ton of bricks.

“Okay, you’re being dramatic, Buck. You guys still have to teach together next week. You just need to find a way to straighten things out with her by then, or else someone’s gonna report back to Fury that you two aren’t doing what you’re supposed to. And we all know that you don’t wanna be in trouble with him.” Steve continues to explain.

‘You’re right... But how do I even reach out to her? She’s not gonna answer a text or phone call, but I don’t think she would appreciate me just showing up where she lives... And I don’t even know where she lives.” He tells him, trying to think of any way to reach you.

“Well... I don’t how much I can help you from here. Just... be careful, Buck. Don’t end up doing more harm than good. Okay?” Steve carefully warns him.

“Yeah, I know, Steve.” Bucky tells him. “I gotta go, I’ll talk later man.” He concludes, promptly ending the call.

It’s Saturday, and Bucky’s panicking.

Why, you may ask?

Well, other than the fact that he made a dumpster fire out of his relationship with you, he singlehandedly made all of your friends who were staff at Avengers University hate him.

He’s spent the morning calling Natasha, who promptly picked up and hung up right after. Then Wanda, who didn’t even bother answering. Finally, Carol. Carol didn’t really give away much, but she did want to help.

Carol didn’t tell him which apartment you lived in.

But she did tell him what building you lived in.

“And why should I help you, Barnes?” Carol asked, well on her way to her meeting.

Bucky was running to catch up with her, clearly walking faster to avoid him.

“I- Listen, just, give me something. Natasha and Wanda ‘ve been avoiding me, and I know they’re not gonna help. I-I’m desperate.” Bucky practically begs, and Carol can’t say she’s not shocked.

“Well... how far are you willing to go?” She stops her walking and asks.

“I-I’ll do anything. Please, Danvers. I’ll buy you coffee for a week. Y-You can have my parking spot! Anything!” Bucky was ready to get on his knees if he needed to.

And that’s exactly what Carol wanted to see.

“Hmm... I don’t know... How do I know you’re actually sorry for what you’ve done?” She questions, nose in the air.

“Carol, I know I fucked up, alright? Steve and Sam can barely even look at me, Natasha and Wanda are ready to rip my head off on sight, and plus...” he paused, trying to lift the weight off his chest, “...plus, Y/N means a lot to me. And I know I acted like a goddamn idiot before, but it’s different now. I... I like her, a lot, and I never meant to hurt her. I... I need her to understand that.” Bucky was out of breath from his rant, and Carol squinted her eyes at him.

“I’m giving you one thing. You have to figure it out from there. Or else Y/N, Nat and Wanda would kill me.” The blonde says after a moment of silence. “She lives in the Livingston Towers. That’s all you get. I’m late to my meeting, bye.” She says, flipping her hair while strutting away.

Now, it’s Saturday morning and Bucky’s at the lobby of your building. Although it’s definitely not half as lavish as his own, it was still lovely. Warm, cozy. The man sitting at the desk watches him as he approaches his small desk, and Bucky looks pale as a ghost.

“H-Hi, I’m looking for someone who lives here?” He asks more than he says, making the man even more weary of him.

“Does this person know you’re coming to see them?” The young man asks dismissively.

“No, but uh, I was hoping I could see them anyways? I just need to know what apartment they’re in if you don’t mind-” Bucky speaks but is cut off short by the young man with the name tag that reads “Adam.”

“Listen, man, you’re not the first shmuck to show up here, begging me to let them up to see their ex that they ‘need to make it up to.’ If she’s not answering her phone when you call, maybe that’s a sign you need to let that shit go, dude.” Adam tells him, looking at his phone screen.

“Hey, kid, listen. She’s not my girlfriend, but I do need to make it up to her. I fucked up, but we’re colleagues, and we have a project that we’re supposed to work on starting tomorrow, but I don’t think she’s gonna show. I-I just... I need to see her. Please.” Bucky’s about to get on the ground, but instead another idea pops into his head.

Just as Adam’s about to dismiss him again, Bucky pulls out his wallet.

He pulls out a crisp $20 bill, slipping is across the counter.

“Please?” Bucky’s voice is hanging on by a thread.

“Fine, man, this girl better be worth it, I could lose my job-”

“Yeah, yeah, get on with it. Her name’s Y/N Y/L/N.” Bucky says, waiting for the boy to type in the name.

“She’s in 10C. Good luck, bro.” He says, sitting back lazily in his spinning chair.

“Thanks,” Bucky can barely say before he clicks the button to call the elevator, hopping in and pressing on the 10 button.

He finds your place with quick ease, but he stands there for a few seconds, pondering. If he knocks, will you even answer? If you know that it’s him, will you open the door? What if you’re out, what if you went to grab coffee or something for Lucy? What if-

And before he could think even further, the door swings wide open, shocking Bucky.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Your voice was hoarse, like you hadn’t used it in days.

You looked... horrible, to say the least. But James was glad he was even looking at you right now.

“I-I we need to talk. Please.” He says, hoping you’ll hear him out.” Just give me five minutes. I’ll leave after that.” He pleads.

Wordlessly, you walk away from the door, leaving him just standing in your doorframe. He assumes this means you’re agreeing to the five minutes.

“Well?” You say, sitting back down on your couch, waiting for James to plead his case.

“L-Listen. I... I can’t even begin to explain to you how fucking sorry I am. I’m a complete idiot for thinking that kissing you was going to fix everything between us, for making you feel like I was trying to embarrass you by kissing you. I just- in the moment I thought it could’ve been the right thing to do, but after it happened I realized just how dumb I was to think that. And you have every right to be upset with me. Also... we still have to do our lessons together starting tomorrow, and I just wanted to know that we could still work together.”

You sat in silence, petting Lucy who was curled up into your side. You held a mug of coffee in your hand, watching James intently.

“Also, how did you know I was here?” He asks, brows furrowed.

You snort at the question, shifting in place.

“Adam called me to warn me that a very persistent man was coming up, and that if I needed to escape to go out the fire escape or the storage closet and hide.” You say, giving no indication as to how you were feeling.

“He may be easily swayed, but he’s not a complete idiot. But you... you are a complete idiot.” You tell him.

Bucky’s chest tightens in an uncomfortable way, in a way that makes him want to throw up his breakfast.

“Did you just come here to see if I was still going to work with you?” You ask, waiting to see what he’ll say.

“Well, that wasn’t the whole reason. I needed to know that you were alright. I hurt you, and I understand that. I also don’t expect you to forgive me, but I need you to know that I know I fucked up. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it right away. And I’m even more sorry for making you feel like you weren’t enough this past year. I guess...

I guess it was just my way, albeit childish, of coping with my feelings for you. When I first met you, I thought you were so beautiful, and I wanted to get to know you. But you were so quiet, and I just thought that was you rejecting me... So, I’m sorry. For everything Y/N.” James concludes. He stands up, moving towards your front door.

“James, wait.” Your meek voice rumbled out as you stood up.

“You... you did embarrass me. Borderline humiliated. You shouldn’t have acted that way with me, I’m worth more than that kind of behavior. That being said, I appreciate you coming here to try and work things through. I... I was so hurt. You hurt me so bad, James.” He opens his mouth to apologize yet again, but you shake your head, continuing.

“I liked you too. When I first met you, I thought you were so attractive. Intelligent, handsome, friendly. But then you started acting so... so different around me. I- I didn’t know what I’d done to make you so angry with me, enough to tear me down every chance you got. I was new, lost, fresh meat. But when you started saying those things, I was reconsidering my contract with AU. I appreciate the apology, but I’m going to need some time to process... whatever this is. Of course I’ll still do the lessons, but that doesn’t mean we’re buddy-buddy now, okay?” You finish.

He’s looking at you. It’s like there’s something more you want to say.

“I just... I- how do I know you’re for real? With all this, I mean. How do I know you’re really sorry?” You ask, finally letting it out, your voice crackling.

“Y/N... How about this; this week, while we teach together, let me make it up to you. Let me show you just how sorry I am, that I’ve really changed. Please, let me make it up to you.” Now, he’s literally on his knees in front of you.

Lo and behold, James Barnes. In front of you, on his knees. On the floor of your apartment.

“James, get up, please.” He promptly stands back up. “You have one week. One week to show me you’ve really changed, that you really mean what you’ve just told me. That’s all you get.” You tell him, staring at him.

“Okay. One week. I’m not gonna let you down, Y/N. I promise. You’re gonna see how sorry I am, I swear.” James says, slowly making his way out.

“Okay. I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Barnes.” You say, holding the door, ready to shut it.

“Here I was, thinking we were on a first name basis.” He jokes, already outside.

“Watch it, Barnes.” You put extra emphasis on his last name, shutting the door as he steps into the elevator.

As you turn back into your house, you look at Lucy, who’s watching you with big eyes.

“What the hell is he gonna do, Luce?” You ask, plopping back down onto your couch and mindlessly turning on the TV again.

You couldn’t even pay attention to it, just thinking of what this week will bring.

a/n: ooookaayyyy hey yall! end of chapter check!! sorry this one was short, this week has been literally kicking my ass. i had 6 labs due for my anatomy class today. anywayssss.... what do we think bucky’s gonna conjure up for this week? lmk in the comments what you think !!! kk, love you, bye!

#bucky barnes fic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes #college professor au #professor!bucky #prof!bucky x prof!reader #prof!bucky #a fine line

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sanchoyo · 3 years

Text

danny phantom 14-20 thoughts!! I finished up s1 :D these last few eps were actually really really good!!!

-did. did tucker really just say esperanto was a dead language only spoken as a secret code between geeks. google says around 100,000 people actively speak it. oh my god...it being an auxiliary language doesn't mean its 'just for geeks to speak in code' ...it helps bridge gaps between people who don't have a language in common...

-danny really isn't pulling punches when it comes to fighting the ghost-cop possessed people huh. like he SLAMMED KWAN INTO THE CONCRETE SO HARD. HE THREW PAULINA INTO A BILLBOARD. will that...I mean it WOULD carry over to their bodies non-possessed, right? like if the ghost piloting their bodies gets hurt?? itd be so upsetting to be possessed, lose time, then wake up covered in bruises (and possibly, broken bones??) real horror movie stuff im sure wont be addressed in any way

-tuckers parents seem nice! I like them :)

-WULF IS CUTE AND I FEEL BAD. im so glad the gang realized he was only causing trouble bc of the shock collar walker put on him and helped. also, him wearing that big hoodie with the hood on, and thinking its subtle. we can tell youre still a giant wolfie :) THEN GETTING SUCKED INTO THE PORTAL AAAAH :( anxiously waiting to see Him Again....

-DANNY BLASTING HIS PARENTS THINKING THEY WERE OVERSHADOWED LMFAO GET THEIR ASSES. maddie marking how many ghosts she gets with lipstick tallies on the side of her portal gun? kindaaa iconic tho. (ALSO, SHE WAS LIKE, 2 FT AWAY FROM HIM RIGHT AFTER SHE TRIED TO SHOOT HIM. HOW DO YOU NOT RECONINZE YOUR OWN SON??? like sure, he might have diff hair/eye colors. but like, if one of my family members dyed their hair, and was wearing contacts, its not like id be like 'wHO IS THIS STRANGER!!!' ...he still has all his facial features!! same everything!!! I hate it here)

-paulina being #1 girl realizing danny's a friendly ghost immediately. smart queen. lancer and kwan ran away right after he made this sweet baby face at them:

which is hilarious.

-ok. im not saying his bullying is JUSTIFIED, but. dash looked so pleased with the (cute!) poster he just painted, and danny comes thru the wall and spills paint on his nice letterman jacket. his anger is justified maybe 65% of the time so far...(not the way he handles it, but STILL.) at least lancer is stepping in!! and them making a silly little bet was...cute?? until dash pulled out his GROSS UNDERWEAR AND SAID DANNY WOULD HAVE TO EAT THEM???? WHAT THE FUCK MAN. TUCKER WAS SO RIGHT ITS FUCKING WEIRD TO CARRY THOSE AROUND EWWW. THIS KID IS UNWELL. lancer was right, his animatronic setup was SUPER IMPRESSIVE?? hes actually pretty creative. danny meanwhile is stealing the fright knight's design...I hope dash is taking art classes or smth with his sports

-fright knight is the most bestest ghost so far i LOVE THAT DESIGN. I am biased towards knights, and characters with swords, but he fucks so severely. and should sue danny for copyright infringement for stealing his design for his haunted house. if some 14 yr old broke into MY house and stole MY sword, id also be pissed. his evil winged unicorn rules too with its FANGS. and he just CAN SHOVE THE PORTAL OPEN WITH HIS HANDS??? is he the strongest ghost weve seen so far? idk but hes my fav. SOUL SHREDDER IS SUCH A COOL SWORD NAME TOO. ANY NAMED SWORD ALSO FUCKS. 'flaming bedsheets of DEATH' funny king. ALSO he was polite to dash and tucker when just asking for directions and telling tucker 'oh maybe, just a suggestion, maybe be nicer to me and be more respectful :)' I LOOOVE HIM.

-I noticed this in the Ember ep, but jazz has an electric guitar in her room!! talent musical queen!! its cool to see hobbies just in the bg.

-fright knight's murder castle reminds me of the booby trapped murder castle in zexal!! another supposedly 'for kids' show with murder/trap castles! we love that. if you are a dp fan reading this, give yugioh zexal a try. its also got 13-14 year old protags and involves (alien) ghosts. the cardgame is just a vessel for the plot, which is really good. (I just want more people to watch my fav yugioh, man)

-danny. with a SWORD.

-danny doesnt NEED TO WIN this contest, dash didnt STEAL HIS DESIGNS AND STEAL A SWORD. he also got excited to hear lancer got sent to a dimension with his worst fears too just so he could win the contest? DANNY WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!! BRO MAYBE YOURE 14 AND HAVENT FULLY DEVOLPED YOUR WHOLE BRAIN YET, BUT...THATS FUCKED. this kid casually says the most deranged things, I do worry for my spooky son. once again, therapy needed. that judo toss was great tho. I wonder if he actually did pick up some martial arts stuff from his mom?

-danny can fly 112 mph!!! thats so fast! I love the lil montage of him and his friends testing his abilities and stuff, very cute and a good way to showcase what he can do by now and how much more proficient he's gotten from ep 1!!! I'm sure he's going to get more abilities :)

-im glad...maddie's at least TRYING this ep. I do feel for her because her husband is a man baby. but the fact it took 16 episodes to get a kinda semblance of any kind of real concern or attempts at bonding. hmm. jack's 'BACK OFF SHES A MINOR' @ the ghost trying to attack jazz. also was very funny. and him wanting to make an action figure of her? are the parents redeeming themselves to me? slightly. they gotta Work Harder

-THE GHOST. IS FLYING. THE PLANE.

-fenton machete. but she doesnt carry a PHONE??? ???

-I mean I expected vlad when you namedrop him earlier in the ep, and also the title card picture, and dalv corp being fucking vlad backwards. but seeing him just pull up on a golf cart made me bust out laughing. WITH the gift baskets prepared. why wouldnt you at least be suspicious. also, if he wants danny to be his lil sonboy, why is he so fucking malicious?? dude you are going about this in such a bad way. stop it. get some help.

-maddie not even hesitating to drag danny out. fucking good. danny is so right, go on the internet to date. get a cat. how do you spend...how many years?? has it been since college?? at least 20, right, since the parents/vlad are in their 40s? hung up on ONE girl. my god, man. incel drama queen. her kung fu IS impressive, but dude. 'we both know hes a creep' SO right. it sucks but they do need a phone and shit being in the middle of NOWHERE. also, just stealing his helicopter was great. <3

-'you must be exhausted carrying the weight of that mistake you made years ago' 'well we all make mistakes. maybe I'll make one now!' WHY DID THIS EXHCHANGE SEND ME. AND VLAD WITH THE BREATH SPRAY EWWW BITCH. 'OLD BAIT BREATH' SOO RIGHT. both danny and his mom playing him HAHAH hes so dumb. or rather, I think he thinks with his emotions too too much and is...actually pretty gullible? lmao he believed danny was ready to give in SO fast. (which is sad hes that hopeful, like you have SO MUCH MONEY YOU COULD EASILY GET ANOTHER GIRL WHO HAS A KID. AND WOULD WANT TO BE WITH YOU AND BE SUPPORTED. GET OVER THIS (1) WOMAN ALREADY IM GETTING SECONDHAND EMBARRASSMENT AAAAH)

-GHOST BEAR GHOST BEAR GHOST BEAR. it was also in the title card, but I still got very excited. we love bears here

-SAM'S BAT SWIMSUIT COVERUP!!! her outfits are simply iconic.

-'i'd tell you to go to the mens room, but I don't think you qualify' top paulina transphobic moments. :( and him wearing a tanktop to the swim park? hmmm! (actually I think she was overshadowed by then, so, KITTY top 10 transphobic moments??)

-kitty just piloting paulina around makes me feel SO bad tho, paulina's gonna wake up and be like 'wtf do you mean I was dating this rando' like youre leading danny on to make johnny jealous, and also just POSSESSING POOR PAULINA. dude take your relationship problems ELSEWHERE. last time we saw them, they seemed like such a cute couple!! wtf johnny!! I mean, she sucks for trying to make him jealous, he sucks for looking at other girls...maybe they need a break, but Not Like This. or, you know, just. better communication...

-and the A-listers having a full packet and a stamp system. who organizes this. kwan fucking owning being the new danny though, this is hysterical. THE TUCKER/KWAN FLOWER FIELD TWIRL. UNIRONICALLY ADORABLE. and him giving it his all for the poetry slam. bless his HEARTTTT.

-Star owns. actually, all of the extra characters are shining this ep and I love it.

-INVISO-BILL??? NOOOO THEY DID HIM SOO DIRTY. DANNY SWEETIE IM SO SORRY.

-johnny and danny bein friends and staging a fake fight (which danny takes too seriously, once again this child has aggression he NEEDS TO WORK OUT) I hope these three stay friends, I said it before but danny needs more friendly ghosts to hang with.

-at this point, Danny's ghost enemies are a lot like, I dunno, batman's rouge gallery is the first thing that comes to mind. they all have their own gimmick and unique designs, but most of them are easy to beat after learning the Moral Lesson. I still get excited when any of them show up again, though. 18 is another valerie episode!!!! :D skulker really said you two will get along if I have to handcuff you together <3 and the gym teacher really said, youre married now, have a flour baby! ngl, I'm not really watching this show for the shipping stuff (which I am very scared to look at the fandom for after I finish this watch through- I feel like there's probably discourse/arguing about ships...) but. I'm gonna put my opinion out there. valerie/danny > sam/danny. maybe I just really love the enemies to lovers trope. And the secret identity stuff adds Extra Flavor.

-SKULKER JUST HAVING THE BOX GHOST AND DANGLING HIM BY A STRING. HILARIOUS. and him watching them with binoculars and making his silly little commentary. AND MAKING THE SACK BABY CRY. LMAO. THIS DUDE IS A BABY KIDNAPPER. skulker is super fun

-danny, you just...collapsed the water tower. and then attacked the nasty burger machine...mascot thingy...out of anger..I KEEP SAYING HE'S GOT ANGER ISSUES BUT. HE REALLY NEEDS A LESSON IN MANAGING COLLATERAL DAMAGE!!! So does valerie!! They're both pretty focused on each other. I mean it's good of Danny to say he's trying to make sure PEOPLE don't get hurt, but... (I mean I guess it's not something 14 year olds WOULD worry about, but as an adult im like, who's going to fix that? how much money will that take??)

-TUCKER MAKING BANK. and sam and tucker being super emotionally attached to their flour baby and being pretty good parents. that's cute...also him just straight kissing her and being like. WAIT. O_O JDSKAFHD. his mom baking them into cookies was the funniest possible result. tbh I dont feel like this is on tucker, if anything the other kid's shouldve been more responsible! He was just taking an opportunity to get that $$ which I respect

-Danny being more understanding of Valerie's situation in the end (helping her at her job, too, and trying to keep that a secret for her!!!) And seeing them work together this ep, and also her letting phantom get her out of the ghost zone...was very sweet. LOVE that. more valerie eps pls

-me when I realize vlad's big stupid house exploded because of his own carelessness with changing the ghost portal ectofiltrator or whatever: *pointing and laughing*

-me when I realize it means he's gonna go make danny's life hell for it somehow: >:(

-SCOOBY PARODY!!! I feel like there's gotta be some scooby doo/danny phantom crossover stuff, right? also, 'guys in white' men in black wishes

-'oh, that's right! dad married the love of your life! you're bitter and alone!' DANNNNNYY GET HIS ASS ONCE AGAIN WE ARE POINTING AND LAUGHING AT VLAD

-'jack, you captured the ghost boy!!' UMM. he did nothing <3 'we have a weapon's vault??' YOU HAVE A WEAPONS VAULT??? and jack didnt put a handle on the inside. of fucking course he didnt! why would you leave that to your son!! or expect him to clean YOUR LAB when its where you work with probably dangerous chemicals and weapons and hes 14!! give him normal chores, like, I dunno, vacuuming, laundry, dishes...CMON. I hate it here. But I'm glad Jack is more chill about danny while he's a ghost, and willing to work with him for this ep. AND. I DID ENJOY JACK PUNCHING VLAD IN THE FACE. AND GENERALLY JUST OWNING HIM. the ghost punchy fists are actually amazing. like yeah, just punch a ghost in the face. that rules.

-ep 20 opens with the coolest fucking ghost lady design. her tattoos can come off and fight. MA'AM. I like ur nose ring and your cape maam hello 👉👈😳

-sam's grandma is hilarious and the most valid member of her family and I love her. thats my grandma now. and tucker covering for sam by dressing as her. thats true friendship <3 also skipping school to go to a goth circus. just bestie things! sam's parents are haters but for all the wrong reasons.

-'my family has controlled ghosts with this for generations!' WAIT. WAIT FREAKSHOW /ISNT/ A GHOST? I didn't expect that...he's just a fucked up guy controlling ghosts? anyway watching danny shoot at police cars and rob banks while mind controlled. its like, the most stereotypical 'bad' things lmao. (tbh an evil ghost circus troupe is a sick concept)

this gives off big deviantart emo edit vibes

(I'm going to assume evil circus reaper danny has a lot of fan content. people love an edgy au, except this one is canon (even tho its via mind control...having the protag go evil otherwise might be hard, I guess?) but au where he stays with the troupe...that has to exist, right?)

ANYWAY. excited to start s2!! lowkey surprised by how many notes some of these posts have gotten. I've gone back and tagged them all with 'dp thoughts' so they're easier to find on my blog! ^^ and I will probably possibly do (more) fanart on my art blog after I finish the watch of the whole show, so like. @sanchoyodraws follow my art blog :)

#sanchoyorambles #danny phantom #dp thoughts

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tuanyiems · 4 years

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First Everything

First Everything Bambam x Fem Reader Genre: fluff, a little angst Words: 9.2k [Masterlist in blog description] Plot: Sequel to Muse (Arranged Marriage AU) Part of the Marriage Life AU series. A series of dates in which Bambam tries his hardest (poor boy) to convince you that he really, really wants to be with you. a/n – lol idunno how I feel about this but here you go~

When the door of the restaurant opens, Bambam’s eyes dart over to the bodies entering for the umpteenth time. When it’s not you, he sighs, rubbing sweaty palms over the deep purple suede of his pants. The designer material darkens under his touch, but he’s too nervous to fret over his outfit at the moment.

He’s beginning to regret not picking you up at your place. He should have been more insistent. But the choice was made and now he is here, leg shaking in his chair of the Michelin star restaurant that he’s not quite sure you’re even going to meet him at.

He gulps down his second glass of water, throat parched at just the thought of getting stood up. He eats at this place at least three times a month. How embarrassing would it be for everyone to witness this rejection?

The door opens again and Bambam jerks his head up like a meerkat. An elderly woman walks in, much to his disappointment.

He sinks into the plush seat, tipping the glass to his lips again only to find it empty. A waitress promptly comes over to refill his glass, relieving him of the menacing view of the restaurant door for a fleeting moment.

What’s wrong with him? Bambam hasn’t been this nervous since…well, high school.

“Kun…pi…mook uh Bu—”

Bambam rolls his eyes at the freshmen English teacher, Mr. Kim, butchering his name. “I just go by Bambam,” comes his automatic response.

Mr. Kim breaks into a sigh of relief, taking pen to clipboard, “Great, Bambam it is.”

But Bambam has already zoned out.

Because right across from him is you—an unassuming girl in the back seat, smiling to yourself. Your lips move as you tilt your head down, but Bambam knows exactly what you’ve mouthed and his heart catches in his throat. Bambam.

His name makes your cheeks dimple.

He doesn’t know why, but this little bit of knowledge makes his chest squeeze.

The next day and every day after, Bambam makes sure to sit next to you. Thus, began the beginning of your beautiful love story…

…is what he had hoped.

But after the first day of high school, you don’t even spare him a glance. So instead, Bambam spends every hour of English period watching you from his peripheral.

You are a quiet student and most days you spend the hour doodling in the margins of your notebook. Often, your doodles are centered around cute cartoons yelling at you to pay attention in class. Every once in a while, he’ll catch a funny caricature of one of your classmates.

Maybe you’ll draw him one day, he hopes to himself.

(You don’t.)

“Bambam and Y/N, please read the next passage,” Mr. Kim interrupts his daydreams one day, about a month into the new school year.

His eyes widen, fingers flipping through the pages of Romeo and Juliet.

“Page 46,” you whisper as you get up from your seat.

Bambam lets out a breath, thumbing to the right page as he stands from his seat beside yours. He squares his shoulders, attempting to stand tall though his shoulders only manage about an inch higher than yours, but every inch counts!

“If I profane,” you whisper when he doesn’t begin reading.

Mr. Kim looks at Bambam pointedly.

“If I proFANE!” he starts loudly, cringing when his voice cracks. His classmates snicker, making his cheeks go red, but you don’t even flinch. Your eyes remain steady on the page of your own book, waiting for him to continue. He clears his throat, “If I p-profane with my unworthiest hand, this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: my…lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand, to smooth that rough touch…with a tender k-kiss.”

Bambam swallows, wiping a sweaty palm on his khaki pants. He prays no one notices his stutter. If you do, you don’t let on, lowering the book as you speak.

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.”

“Ha-”

“You guys,” Mr. Kim sighs, interrupting Bambam. He looks around the room with a scowl. “Can we not read this out like robots, please? This is young love! They’re talking about kissing! Be more excited!”

“Is that what they’re talking about?” you mutter under your breath, eyebrows arching as you scanned the page.

Bambam snorts before covering his mouth with his hand quickly. You catch the sound though, looking up at him with a smile.

His heart catches in his throat.

The playful glint in your eyes keeps him afloat for months after.

When the restaurant doors open again, Bambam chokes on his water. He coughs into the red linen napkin, his grey contact eyes watering. He can’t help chuckling despite it all though.

You’re here. And fortunately for Bambam, your gaze is focused on the hostess. You’re asking her something, probably for directions to his table. You lean towards the hostess’ podium, the heels of your blush-colored flats rising to your tiptoes out of habit even though you are at least a foot clear of the podium. You have on your signature cream oversized knit cardigan which you pull tighter to your chest, covering the simple white dress beneath.

It is so very you—even the stroke of blue paint at the bottom of your dress (which you probably aren’t aware of). On any other girl, Bambam would have scrutinized the stain, especially at a restaurant of this class. Yet, on you, the mark is somehow endearing.

He wonders if the paint stain is fresh. Were you so absorbed in a painting that you came rushing straight here with no time to change? Or was this an old stain on a dress you loved so much you couldn’t bear to part ways with it?

“Hey,” your hesitant voice breaks him out of his thoughts as you take a seat across from him.

“Hi,” he breathes. Underneath the table, he pinches his thigh. Nope, not a dream.

“Sorry I kept you waiting, I had a hard time finding the entrance,” you chuckle to yourself. There’s a story behind that smile, there always seems to be a story behind every expression and gesture you make. He wonders if he’ll ever be part of that story. When he doesn’t respond, you tilt your head nervously. “Were…you waiting long?”

“Oh! Ha, no, not at all!” Bambam straightens in his seat.

You smile politely before turning away to admire the place. It’s a beautiful French restaurant that sits at the top of one of Seoul’s tallest hotels. The entire restaurant is surrounded by floor to ceiling windows, offering a spectacular view of the city. Your eyes linger on the glittering lights of Seoul’s Friday night skyline.

Bambam doesn’t bother to glance out the window. His eyes remain on you, the glow of the candle at the center of the table flickers like stardust on your skin.

When you finally look back, Bambam leans on the table, lifting a proud brow. “Like the view?”

“This place is breathtaking,” you admit, fingers rubbing absentmindedly at the ends of your sleeves.

“Right? It’s one of my favorite places in the city,” he smiles triumphantly. “Wait ‘til you try the food.”

“Do you come here often?”

“Yeah, Lisa introduced me to this place a year ago and I’ve been coming ever since.”

“L-Lisa? Like…from Blackpink?” you look at him with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that Lisa, she’s a homie.”

You blink at him. “Wow, okay…cool.”

He pauses, not quite sure how to read your tone. Before he can ask though, the waitress interrupts with the usual spiel on menus and dishes of the night. When you read through the menu, your eyes grow big.

“My card is still on file, right?” Bambam asks, quick to assuage your worries. His card has been on file for months now.

“Yes, it should be, but I can check again for you,” the waitress smiles at him politely, knowing just as well that Bambam already knows this. He winks at her as she leaves before turning back to you.

Unlike his expectations though, the crease between your brow only deepens. He clears his throat, rubbing his palms against his thighs again.

“Anything catch your eye?”

You force out a smile, putting down your menu. “I can eat anything. Why don’t you decide?”

Bambam lifts a brow but nods in agreement. He wonders if French cuisine just isn’t your thing. He should have listened to Yugyeom and gone Japanese, huh? You can’t go wrong with omakase!

“Do you like wine?” he blurts, trying to get his best friend’s voice out of his head.

“Oh,” your eyes dart to the clear glass cases at the center of the restaurant showcasing their selection. You sink into your seat a little. “Well, I’m not really an expert, but I can drink it. Do you like wine?”

“I’ll let you try my favorite bottle! It’ll go great with the usual course I order,” he smiles, quite pleased with his decision.

“Sounds good,” you nod curtly.

After Bambam puts in the order, an uncomfortable silence follows. Your eyes keep traveling around the room like you don’t want to look at him. And Bambam, who could easily entertain an entire party of people at any given moment, finds himself at a loss for words. There’s probably a stain on his thighs now from how often he keeps wiping his palms. He’s too afraid to check.

“So,” he starts, extending the single word uneasily. He doesn’t manage to figure out the rest of his sentence though.

But it’s then that you finally break into a smile. A real one.

“Bambam,” you let out, and his eyes dart to your cheek where the ghost of a familiar dimple lays. “Are you feeling as awkward as I am?”

“More like nervous,” he confesses, leaning back into his seat.

Your brows raise, “You? Nervous?”

“It happens when I’m with beautiful people.”

You roll your eyes, “Says the same guy who’s ‘homies’ with Blackpink’s Lisa.”

Bambam grins, “When you meet her, you’ll see, she’s a bro.”

You arch your brows, clearly not believing him. “If she’s a bro, I can’t imagine what I am.”

You’re frowning and his heart sinks. He hates that you actually mean it. He hates that he can’t even tell you honestly what you mean to him. It’s way too soon for that kind of confession. He’s sure you wouldn’t take him seriously anyways. After all, he barely managed to even get this date.

Yn_ig: The animes lied to me. High school sucks.

Bambam snorts loudly, muffling himself beneath his blue checkered duvet before his mom can hear and yell at him to go to sleep.

It’s midnight and tomorrow will be the first day of sophomore year. He really should be sleeping, but instead he’s smiling stupidly at his phone. Your scowling face lights up his screen. Your best friend smiles brightly beside you, poking your cheek with the end of a paintbrush. You had spent your break taking an art class.

Bambam knows this because he’s been stalking your Instagram, although he’s been too afraid to like any of your posts.

You’ve gotten a lot better in the span of a few weeks though. Or at least, that’s what it seems like from having spent all of freshmen year watching you doodle in the margins. He wonders if he’ll get to sit beside you this year too. His stomach flips at the thought.

When morning comes, Bambam yawns loudly, his eyes barely open as he rushes to the bus stop. He hadn’t meant to stay up so late, but one thing led to another and suddenly he was on Soundcloud, listening to an indie artist by the name of Defsoul, who you had commented about on your friend’s Instagram post fifteen weeks ago.

He pulls out his phone, plugging in his earphones to continue listening. He steps into the bus, in the middle of bopping his head to a song when the sound escapes him and all he can hear is the thumping of his heart.

You’re sitting near the back, looking out the window. You have on headphones and a scowl that looks just like the picture you posted last night.

Steadying his breath, he walks past you and slides into the row of seats right behind yours. He wonders if you’re listening to the same song.

Maybe you’ll share the same homeroom this year. The entire bus ride to school, Bambam daydreams about all the conversations you’d share every morning if that were the case. He’d talk to you about Defsoul and then you’d share your stories about break. He’d tell you his was alright, but it would’ve been better if you two hung out. You’d give him that look, the same one you gave when you read out loud together, and then he’d poke your cheek like he’s always wanted to, right where your cheeks dimpled.

His bubble bursts as soon as a guy takes a seat beside you. Bambam can’t remember his name, but his face is familiar. He’s a senior, and by the way you move your headphones to the nape of your neck and smile, it seems like you know him. Holding his breath, Bambam pauses his song.

“2A? That used to be my homeroom!”

Bambam clenches his fist. His homeroom is at the other end of the hall from yours. Frowning, he eyes the back of the guy’s head as he leans into you.

“So, have you thought about what I asked over break?”

You fold your arms across your chest and Bambam can’t help but wonder what he’s asked of you. Is it a date? The way he whispers seems like it would be that kind of thing, and Bambam doesn’t doubt a girl like you must have a lot of admirers. Is it making you uncomfortable? Should he interrupt you two? But then, you’d clearly know he had been eavesdropping. But if this guy was making you uncomfortable, that shouldn’t matter, right?

Thighs straining, Bambam almost stands from his seat when you laugh. It’s the loudest he’s ever heard you, at least in person anyways.

“I thought you’d forget by now,” you chuckle.

The guy feigns offense, holding a hand to his chest. “Me? Forget about you? I see you think very highly of me, Y/N.”

Bambam rolls his eyes.

“Sure you aren’t just trying to dump all your responsibilities on me?” you pout. Bambam melts inside.

“Ha, you caught me!” the senior laughs, making you laugh too. It’s such a pretty ring to his ears, Bambam already knows he’ll be thinking about it for the next couple of weeks. “But you know I wouldn’t give it up to just anyone. It’s practically my baby.”

“That’s true,” you admit, chuckling, and then quieter, “You think I can do it?”

He put an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. Bambam squeezes his fist.

“Not just doing it. I know you’ll be a great president,” he tells you confidently. Your ears go red, and if Bambam weren’t so focused on the hand on your shoulder, he would’ve found it very endearing.

“I don’t know, I just…” you pause nervously.

“Yo,” Mingyu breaks Bambam’s concentration. “2D?”

Bambam breaks into a smile, highfiving his friend as he takes the seat next to him. “2D!”

“Sweet!” Mingyu cheers, shoulders bumping against his playfully. “Kook’s with us too. It’s gonna be a wild year!”

Bambam laughs, shaking his head. “You guys are gonna get us kicked back a year.”

His friend whistles. “Girls are into older guys, Bam, it’ll be like one of those harem animes Kook loves so much!”

Bambam laughs, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he glances back at the hand still on your shoulder. He hopes that’s not the case for you.

“It got cold,” Bambam musters as the two of you leave the restaurant.

You nod, looking up at the night sky. “Seems like winter doesn’t want to leave us yet.”

The two of you pause by the curb, in front of the valet.

“Are you sure you had a good time, Y/N? You barely touched your food.”

You look up in surprise. “Oh, I really did have a nice time, Bambam.”

He looks at you skeptically.

“The uh, the…gourdine?”

“Bouchée à la périgourdine?”

“Yeah, that!” you chuckle awkwardly. “That was delicious.”

Bambam still doesn’t believe you but you look uncomfortable, so he lets it go. Actually, you’ve been looking uncomfortable ever since you laid eyes on the menu. Most of his dates took advantage of his generosity, especially at a place like this—ordering the most expensive dishes and trying out all the wine. You though? You insisted on being full after the first course. When he asked you what your thoughts were on his favorite bottle of wine, you mumbled something incoherent as you tipped the entire glass down your throat. You only had water after that.

It was like you couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

Maybe he had read things wrong. He thought you were at least interested in him too. The night of Mark’s fashion launch, the two of you had shared so many things—secrets, confessions, old memories and what he thought had been chemistry.

He glances over your way. You’re turned away from him, eyes watching the valet workers instead. You had admitted to hating him in the past. His stomach sinks at the thought that maybe you still do.

You shiver, pulling your cardigan closer to your chest. Bambam unwraps his scarf, holding out his hand for you to take it.

“Oh, I’m alright,”

He lets out a soft sigh before stepping in front of you.

“Do you maybe,” Bambam asks softly, placing his scarf gently around the nape of your neck. “I don’t know, it’s Friday, we could walk around or something or…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead biting on the tip of his tongue as he wraps the cashmere cloth securely around you.

Your fingers brush against his, just barely, but he feels it tenfold. “It’s getting late…”

Bambam tries not to look too hurt when he smiles back at you. “I’ll drive you home then.”

A week later, Bambam finds himself outside of your studio apartment. When you open the door, you’re wide-eyed and frozen like you’ve seen a ghost. In your defense though, Bambam doesn’t look like himself. He hasn’t ever since the night you left him at this exact spot last week.

Dark circles line his eyes and his newly dyed black hair only makes his complexion paler.

“Is everything okay, Bambam?” you ask finally.

He sighs, squeezing at the bridge of his nose. His gold frames lift at the gesture.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, “I probably should have called first.”

“Hey,” you place your palm gently on his arm. “Why don’t you come in first.”

Bambam lets you tug him inside like a lost puppy. His eyes travel around the room. Of course, he’s seen your place before in videos, but it’s different being here now. He doesn’t expect the smell of ginger and lemongrass to greet him. The longer he lingers, the more aware he becomes of the subtle scent of jasmine rice wafting in from the open kitchen. It’s comforting.

Your bedroom door is open, and he can see you’re working on a series of paintings. The canvases line your wooden floors in a haphazard row across the room.

You sit him down on your couch, a worn out burgundy but the geometric pattern is intricate despite its faded color. He lets his finger trail over a line while you poor him a cup of water.

“Your hair is black,” you break the silence.

“Oh,” he runs a hand through his hair like he is discovering this for the first time too. A faint pink colors his cheeks.

“I like it,” you smile softly. “It suits you.”

“Thanks,” he utters. His eyes trail down your hands. Your thumb smooths down your own cup of water repeatedly. Your fingers are speckled with green paint.

When he doesn’t say anything more, you chuckle softly to yourself. He looks at you in surprise.

“I like this new look,” you explain, eyes gesturing to his outfit. Today, Bambam is in a simple white t-shirt and black ripped jeans. Granted, the t-shirt is still Tom Ford, but you don’t know that. More noticeably though, is what he is not wearing, no sparkling diamonds around his neck, no Rolex on his wrist. Only a plain, silver ring adorns his right pinky. “So, why are you here, Bambam?”

He winces inwardly, reality setting in on him. Why is he here? Because the hair dye didn’t work? Because he agreed to too many projects in an attempt to keep busy but now he’s just tired and confused? Because Yugyeom pushed him out of the office and told him to figure things out?

Because no matter what he does, he keeps thinking about last week’s date and how you looked at him right before going inside—the mixture of disappointment and sadness in your eyes that felt like he had lost it all.

“Bambam?”

“Did I do something wrong?”

His question catches you off guard. “What? No, of course not.”

“You didn’t like the food,”

“The food was delicious.”

“Then it was me. I was boring.”

“Are you really Bambam? Where did all your confidence go?” you joke, lifting a brow.

His shoulders slouch. You make his confidence deplete like he is fourteen again. When he doesn’t say anything, you put your cup down onto the coffee table and look him in the eye.

“Hey, really, it had nothing to do with you Bambam, and everything to do with me.”

He chuckles dryly. “I don’t need a ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ to soften the blow. You can give it to me straight.”

You look at him with a frown, lips threatening to jut into a pout and if Bambam weren’t about to get his heart crushed, he would’ve found your expression to be very adorable. Well, okay, that’s a lie, he still finds you very adorable right now.

“It’s really not you,” you purse your lips together, looking away. “I just…I was very out of place there, Bambam.”

“Wha-”

“I couldn’t pronounce half the menu,” you continue, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Or the wine.”

“But it tasted good?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, looking at him. “It was amazing, Bambam. But that one meal cost about half the month’s rent of this place!”

Bambam doesn’t mean to, but he laughs at your outburst. He is reminded of himself a few years ago when he first became friends with Jackson Wang, who gifted him a set of Cartier jewelry on his birthday.

When he sees your face, he immediately stops laughing. “Wait, I’m not laughing at you!”

“Yeah, sure,” you roll your eyes, but it’s a harmless gesture. Rising from your seat, you look at him, “Is that all you came here for?”

“Well, no.”

Your brows lift.

“There’s this event,” Bambam rushes, digging into the pocket of his jeans. “Actually, I was working on this mini documentary with this artist and he’s opening up a new exhibit this weekend.”

He raises the tickets tentatively towards you but freezes when your eyes bug out.

“Yoshitomo Nara?” You practically scream, falling back onto the couch right beside Bambam. You smell warm and sweet and the memory of the night you shared a few weeks ago flickers in the back of his mind.

“Yoshitomo Nara,” he confirms softly.

You frown his way, though it quickly turns into a smile, “Well, that’s just not fair. You know how much he means to me.”

“I do,” he smiles quietly.

“So you came here to bribe me?”

He laughs, “More or less. Is that a yes?”

You smile, thumbs smoothing over the tickets repeatedly.

“Jokes on you, Bambam. I would’ve said yes even without these tickets.”

Somehow, he doesn’t quite believe you, but you are giggling, and he has a date.

And that is all that matters.

Bambam sits nervously on a stool of the art studio, his fingers twisting the lens of an old DSLR he’s still not confident about using. From the elevated windows above, the pink evening sky illuminates. Everything about this moment seems picturesque. If Bambam could use his camera properly, he would’ve known.

But instead, the camera remains abandoned in his grasp as he stares in front of him where you stand in front of your easel mere meters away. It’s just the two of you. Everyone from both the photography and the painting club had gone home already. After seeing you continue to paint, Bambam had insisted on staying behind to practice with his camera more.

To be honest, he is hungry and could care less about photography, but he can’t find himself to go home.

“Hey,” you twist around and Bambam’s mind spins.

“H-hey,” he musters up, still unconvinced you’re talking to him.

He blinks owlishly at you, and then, his stomach growls. Loudly. His ears turn so red and he feels like he’s been set on fire, but you don’t even react.

“Mind if I play music?”

“Uh, yeah…that’s fine,” he answers you meekly, eyes diverting in embarrassment.

“Cool,” you reply nonchalantly, walking up to his side of the room where the speakers are. Plugging in your phone, the familiar tune of Defsoul’s music fills the studio. It takes Bambam a minute to get over his own mortification before the music reaches his ears and he perks up. But when he looks around the room, you are gone.

Alone now, Bambam finds the courage to get up from his seat and approaches your easel. The chair beside your easel is stacked with art books of Yoshitomo Nara. It seems you are doing a study. Just like the angry little girls on the cover of the art books, your easel holds a portrait of a little girl too. It is different though.

When he looks at the girl in your painting, he sees you. The little girl holds the ghost of a smirk beneath her scowl and her eyes glint with secrets of mischief, just like you. Without thinking, Bambam takes a step back and raises his camera.

“Like it?”

Bambam jumps in surprise, the flash of the camera going off before it slips from his hands entirely. Flustered, he rushes to bring the camera back into his grasp, thanking god he had kept the old leather strap around his neck.

You giggle softly, standing beside him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“It’s alright, I was just spacing out,” he mumbles sheepishly, eyes averting to the screen of his camera. You lean in, filling his senses with faint notes of your strawberry vanilla shampoo. “I’m still learning how to use the camera.”

“I like it,” you smile, looking up at him. “Can you send it to me?”

“I-really?” he looks at you surprised. Your painting isn’t in focus and off centered. The photo is not good, even Bambam knows it.

“Yeah, gives me album cover vibes,” you chuckle.

He snorts. “When is your mixtape dropping?”

You grin, raising a brow. “You never know what could happen in the future, Bambam.”

He shrugs, pretending not to melt at the sound of his name on your tongue. He didn’t think you’d remember him.

“Here,” you hand him a bag of cheese puffs before opening your own bag. “The vending machine popped out two.”

“Oh, thanks.”

Bambam walks back to his seat, gaze on your back again as you return to painting. He glances at the blurry photo on the screen of his camera and then slowly, he raises his camera once more, one eye squinting into the viewfinder.

Maybe photography isn’t so bad after all.

He snaps another photo. Click!

“Wait, this is a formal thing? Should I change?”

Bambam watches with amusement as you bounce nervously in front of his car. You are dressed in a plain pink tank top and matching satin wrap skirt. Of course, your classic cream cardigan drapes over you, and to his pleasure, so does his scarf from your last date.

“You look beautiful,” he reassures you.

You bite at your lip, unconvinced. “But you’re in a suit.”

“Okay, but when am I not?”

Your pout reluctantly turns into a smile and you huff, walking through the door he’s holding open for you, into the passenger’s seat. When he gets into the driver’s seat, you turn to him.

“When you’re wearing your designer gym clothes,” you smirk.

“Stop, you aren’t allowed to make jokes while I’m driving,” he laughs, pulling the car out of the driveway. “Also, tracksuits are still suits.”

Your giggles ring throughout the car.

When the two of you get to the venue, the place is already busy. The exhibition is part of the new contemporary art wing in the museum, which has been closed for the night for an intimate opening with select guests. Many of these guests are artist friends of Yoshitomo Nara, but even more are the wealthy collectors who are more than eager to call first dibs on the latest works. The only reason Bambam has been invited is because his mini documentary of the artist is playing on loop in one of the screening rooms.

While he loves art, these type of art scenes are not his thing. They’re a bit too stuffy for his taste and exactly why he dropped out of art school in the first place. But when he sees the way you seem to shrink into your cardigan as soon as you step into the gallery, he squares his shoulders and grabs hold of your hand.

You look surprised by his touch, but thankfully, you don’t pull away.

“You have to get used to these kinds of events, Y/N. You’ll be hosting them soon.”

You chuckle, glancing away. “Well, if I’m lucky, you’ll be hosting them.”

It’s his turn to blush now, but he pretends to be cool, pointing to the first painting to the right. “Shall we start here?”

You only grin, gripping his hand tighter. You seemed to get a little too much joy out of making him feel shy. Bambam can only sigh, quietly relishing in the warmth of your palm against his.

When you finally turn your attention to the paintings, the two of you look on in silence. Naturally, Bambam’s gaze falls onto you. There is a glimmer in your eyes, emotions passing through your features like its own movie. There is a lift of revelation in your brow, a scrunch of displeasure in your nose, the twitch of amusement on your lips.

Bambam fights the urge to take out his phone and record you. Instead, he follows after you, committing your profile to memory.

“Why do you like this guy so much?” he blurts out after passing a few paintings. You peel your eyes away to look at him in surprise, cheeks rosy.

“I-I don’t know, I’ve just loved his works since high school.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for the question to come out harsh. I was just curious, I mean, his art is really nice.”

You squeeze his hand, calming him. “I know. I guess I was just drawn to his characters. They’re cute, but rebellious and real. It’s charming.”

Bambam smiles. That’s how he feels about you.

“And it blurs the lines of what is fine art,” you go on, turning back to the painting in front of you. “Like right now, it is hanging in this museum, so it’s considered high end art, right? But this girl can easily be inside a children’s book, and his previous works have.”

You glance back at him, looking embarrassed after your spiel. “I don’t know.”

He doesn’t let you skirt over the topic though as he follows you to the next painting. “Is that why you dropped out of school?”

You sigh. “There were a lot of reasons. Maybe my skin wasn’t thick enough.”

“No, I get it,” he rubs his thumb across your skin. “I don’t like museums much, to be honest. I like the idea of them, but in reality, places like these only cater to the gatekeepers and the gatekeepers are just boring ass, tax-evading millionaires.”

You laugh, leaning into his chest as if that’ll rid you of the attention you’ve already gained around your corner of the room. Bambam ignores their stares, laughing along with you.

“Your art shouldn’t be jailed up in this stale room,” he adds, after your giggling subsides.

“But yours is,” you chuckle, making your way into the dark screening room.

Projected onto the wall is Yoshitomo Nara talking midsentence about his latest artworks. You take a seat on the bench before gesturing for Bambam to take a seat next to you.

“This is filmed beautifully,” you lean into him to whisper. The action makes him smile since you are the only two in this room, but if it’ll bring you closer, he doesn’t mind. “You’re really talented, Bambam.”

“I have a good team with me.”

“I always knew you’d make it big.”

He smiles quietly, watching as the glow of the video illuminated your face. You really did.

Yn_ig: This is amazing!

Bambam1a: Thx!

Bambam chucks his phone between his thighs before shoving a spoonful of rice into his mouth to hide the smile spreading across his face. He pretends to laugh at something his brother said, though really, he’s twisting with glee because you just liked his latest post on Instagram. And you commented!

“Remember Bammie, this weekend you’re coming with me to…”

His phone dings and his mom’s voice fades into the background. Grabbing his phone, his stomach flips when he sees your handle name sending you a direct message. Ever since the beginning of junior year, he’s been talking to you over Instagram under the alias Muse_ig. It hadn’t been his intentions to deceive you. He was just nervous about talking to you online, but still wanted a way to support you. One comment on your art led to another and suddenly you were messaging him a thank you. Very quickly, that thank you turned into memes and inside jokes. Now, the two of you were talking to each other almost every night.

He clicks on the notification, nodding blankly to whatever his mom is saying.

Yn_ig: Hey! You said you liked photography, right? You should check him out. He’s my classmate. Really talented guy.

Bambam clutches his phone, trying to keep from jumping out of his seat when he sees you’ve sent his Instagram profile.

“Bammie, are you listening to me?” his mom looks at him pointedly.

He tries to school his expression, but joy floods his face anyways. And despite her tone, his mom smiles too.

“Whoever it is, she can wait. Put your phone away,” she teases, inciting laughter from all his siblings.

Bambam laughs it off goodheartedly, tucking his phone away. You think he’s really talented and nothing can diminish the high that this newfound knowledge brings him.

Well, nothing except, of course, you.

You see, when Bambam agreed to tagging along with his mom to her new friend’s house so she could introduce their daughter to him, he was expecting to spend a few awkward hours with some strangers. Maybe bond with said daughter over the awkwardness, but then he would go home and play video games and that would be that.

What he doesn’t expect is to greet you first thing at your doorway. He doesn’t expect to sit across from you during dinner. And he definitely doesn’t expect the glare you send him between each bite.

“You really are the prettiest thing!” His mother coos from across the table. “She definitely takes after you.”

“Oh, stop it,” your mom blushes, waving her spoon. “To think our kids already knew each other. This must be fate!”

“Hardly,” you mumble under your breath, but Bambam hears it. His heart breaks.

He can’t even blame you for it though. This dinner hasn’t exactly been easy for you. He remembers your late-night texts a few months ago and now all those self-deprecating comments make sense. Those words you were repeating? The I’m not good enough and I should just give up—They were never yours. It was your parents’.

“Bambam told me she’s one of the smartest in her grade!” his mom continues to compliment. He nods eagerly. Your frown only deepens as you poke at the asparagus on your plate.

“What good are all those As when all she does is doodle?” her mom laments, chuckling weakly. “We put all this money into her education but all she wants to do is draw.”

“Paintings,” Bambam musters. Both his and your mom look at him, surprised. He wipes his palms against his pants. In his peripheral, he knows you’re looking at him too, but he’s too afraid to look at you. “She paints, and she’s really good.”

There’s a pause and Bambam’s entire face heats up.

And then your mom breaks into a laugh. “And I heard you’re doing photography!”

His chest deflates and he nods meekly.

His mom laughs, hitting him on the back. “Unlike Y/N, Bammie here is terrible at studying. I really hope this hobby takes off.”

“Your mom showed me some of your photos, boy,” your father speaks up gruffly, pointing the steak knife his way. “Keep it up and you’ll earn yourself a free ticket to college.”

Bambam rubs at the nape of his neck, “I don’t know about that.”

“No really, there’s a scholarship, isn’t there, Y/N?” your father insists, looking at you.

You nod, putting down your fork. You look at your dad but it’s clear in your tone that you’re talking to him.

“It’s called the Artisan Award—a full scholarship to your art school of choice. It’s given to one graduating senior for their excellence in art across multiple disciplines—including photography. I’ll be applying to it next year.” You don’t even offer him a glance, focusing instead, on your glass of water.

“Well, you’ll be applying to a lot of scholarships,” your mom chuckles uneasily. “There’s still a year to think things through.”

“You should apply too,” your father adds, looking at him.

“Oh, I don’t know if I’d be any good. Sounds competitive,” Bambam mumbles, glancing at you. You’re scowling down at your plate.

“Wouldn’t hurt to try though,” his mom cuts in, smiling at him. “What are the kids saying nowadays? Have to shoot your shot into the hoop?”

He smiles, pretending to grimace at his mom, making her laugh.

“While we’re at it, let’s apply to the athletic scholarships too,” she jokes.

He laughs, rolling his eyes. “First I have to make a shot into an actual hoop.”

His mom snorts, “It’s okay, if anything you can dropout and become a comedian! We’ve got options.”

The table breaks into laughter but when he glances your way, you are glaring at him.

“I still can’t believe you were Muse_ig this whole time. I dropped out because of you,” you giggle, a crumpled brown napkin in one hand while the other cradles a half-eaten slice of pizza. The two of you had stopped for a bite to eat next door to the museum.

“Hey, don’t blame me, I was just sending you encouraging messages. You made the decision,” Bambam whines, one cheek still stuffed full of pizza.

“Only because I had you feeding into my delusions!”

“You mean showing you your true worth?” he corrects.

You smile, leaning onto the table towards him. “Which ultimately pushed me to drop out.”

He sighs, “Okay, fine, you win. Please don’t tell your mom, though. She’ll hate me.”

“Impossible, she loves you.”

“And I’d like to keep it that way.”

You roll your eyes as Bambam finishes his last bite. Sitting in the pizzeria on a Saturday night amongst a crowd of college students from the local university, the two of you stand out like a sore thumb—Bambam, because of his tailored suit that’s probably the same price as some of these students’ tuition, and you, because, well, you’re you.

In his eyes at least, you always stand out. However, tonight, this is especially so. Unlike your first date, you are laughing and joking together. Maybe he should get pizza with you more often.

“This was nice,” you breathe out as you both step out of the pizzeria. When the restaurant doors close, the loud chatter muffles and is replaced by the quiet night breeze.

“So,” Bambam lets the word drawl sluggishly, not wanting the night to end, but he is reminded of the last date when you turned him down and hesitates to extend another offer.

“So,” you copy, voice soft as you start walking back towards the museum parking garage. “You never explained why you dropped out. Such a waste of a scholarship,” you tease.

“Ah, that…” Bambam stuffs his hands into the pockets of his pants.

You place a hesitant hand around the crook of his arm and his shoulders relax.

“If it’s a touchy subject, you don’t have to answer.”

He shakes his head, looking down at you. “No, it’s not.”

He opens the passenger door for you, helping you in before heading to his side.

“I guess I didn’t have tough skin either,” he chuckles softly, starting the car. “Some days it really did feel like being jailed inside an art museum. Photography didn’t feel the same without…”

His voice trails and his cheeks heat up. You look at him curiously but he’s too embarrassed to continue. Again, he is reminded by the fact that while you grew up together, the memories you share are quite different.

He glances at you and the way you smile at him is sweet. As if to say, it’s okay to not say anything more. But instead of being comforted, Bambam remembers the way you glared at him from across the dinner table as if it happened yesterday.

“I liked taking photos of the people I care about. I liked capturing moments that mattered…Feelings that…Art school just made me feel empty. I didn’t know why I was doing it anymore,” he finishes off quickly, looking away from you.

“I get that,” you smile weakly.

“But look at us now,” Bambam chuckles, lightening the mood. “We’re doing just fine on our own, aren’t we?”

You smile, glancing out the window. “Well, you are.”

“So are you! Aren’t you publishing a children’s book soon?” Bambam keeps his eyes on the road but her can see in his peripheral that you are looking at him in surprise.

“Did Mark…”

At the red light, he glances at you gently. “Your mom told mines. She brags about you when you aren’t around, you know.”

You frown, playing with the strap of the seatbelt.

“I know that’s her way of caring for me.” You finally say. “Sometimes, though, I wish she was more like your mom.”

“Well,” Bambam sends you a quick grin before turning back to the road. “If you marry me, my mom comes with the package too.”

You laugh. It rings throughout the car and sets his own heart at ease.

“You don’t have to bribe me with your mother, Bambam! If anything, I should be bribing you.”

“I’ll take it!”

“What?”

He chuckles. “Whatever the bribe is, I’ll take it. Think City Hall is still open?”

You shake your head, giggling softly. “I still don’t get you.”

“What’s there to get?”

You hum thoughtfully. “A young bachelor like you so eager to marry and me of all people? Who’s holding you against your will?”

At the next red light, Bambam steels himself and turns to you, eyes steady on yours.

“I like you. A lot. For a while now.”

Despite the dimly lit night, he can see you flush. Your fingers clutch the ends of your cardigan sleeves, a nervous habit.

When you don’t say anything, he continues. “I know your parents kind of forced you into this, but that’s not the case for me. Maybe I’m coming on too strong, This marriage arrangement thing…I get that it’s unnatural. I wish I could’ve gone about this differently, but we’re here now and I’m ready. I know you’re probably not and that’s okay, I get it. But I’m interested, I want to date, I want to go through the whole process with you. Slowly, at our own pace, and if I’m not a good fit…then that’s okay too. But I want to at least try.”

The light turns green and reluctantly, he looks away. The rest of the drive to your place is quiet. When he parks outside your apartment, he smiles as if your silence isn’t eating him alive.

“I had a really nice time, Y/N. I’m glad you came with me tonight.”

“Me too,” you reply, almost a whisper.

When you don’t say anything more, he gets out of the car and walks to your side, helping you with the door. But you don’t get up from your seat.

Instead, you turn to him, eyes staring up at him nervously.

“I like you too.”

It is soft, but his whole chest shakes. Bambam breaks into a smile of joy and relief.

He takes hold of your hand, helping you out of the car. His fingers linger, brushing softly against the tips of yours, and you smile.

“Then, I’ll see you next week at your family dinner?” he asks quietly.

You nod tentatively. You purse your lips, cheeks dimpling shyly. His heart skips as you linger, eyes shimmering under the streetlamp.

And then you lean into him, fingers clutching his and you tiptoe.

It is a fleeting touch—light and feathery on his lips—and then he blinks and you’re stepping away again.

“Night, Bambam.”

“N-night!”

He stays for ten minutes longer, waiting for the light of your apartment to flicker on, his lips still buzzing from your kiss.

Bambam’s lips sting from how much he’s been nervously biting them, the high from last week’s date now a fleeting memory. He sits at your parents’ dinner table across from you and it feels like déjà vu.

His mom laughs loudly next to him. Someone made a joke or something.

He doesn’t hear it. All he can see is the growing scowl on your face. Whatever feelings you had for him last week seem to be long gone if your expression is anything to go by.

Your mom swirls her glass of wine, leaning into his mom warmly. “When you told me you wanted my daughter to be your daughter-in-law—my daughter, for your Bambam!—I almost fainted!”

“What are you talking about? The minute I saw Y/N, I fell in love at first sight! I’m pretty sure it was the same for Bammie too.”

Bambam flushes, stuffing his cheeks with salad.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” his mom nudges him teasingly and he almost chokes but he nods adamantly towards you.

“You two are so humble,” your dad chuckles.

Your mom seems to nod in agreement. “I’m sure Bambam can find better options out there.”

“Y/N has one good trait though,” your dad adds, laughing. “She won’t cause any trouble as far as the love department goes.”

“Oh, don’t get me started, this girl is so stubborn!” your mom starts up again, waving her spoon accusingly at you. “Always work, work, work with my daughter. It’s all she cares about.”

“Oh, Bammie’s the same,” his mom cuts in, smiling amiably at you. “It’s the younger generation these days. Married to their work so to speak.”

“Bambam’s got a good head on him,” you father nods to him gruffly. “There’s a difference between working hard and working smart.”

“Unfortunately, she’s only good at working hard,” your mother sighs.

Bambam swallows thickly, gaze fixed on your expression. You’ve been chewing on the inside of your cheek since dinner started. He can see the tick in your jaw every time your parents say something mean your way.

At first, you managed to fake a few polite smiles, but now your head was fully down as you played with the rice on your plate.

“I like Y/N’s work ethic,” he finally speaks up. You finally look at him, eyes unreadable. “It’s hard work that brings talent to fruition and Y/N has both.”

Your gaze lingers on him.

“If we’re talking about talent though, we have to talk about your business!” Your mom breaks the air and the ghost of your smile completely vanishes from your face. You don’t look at him for the rest of dinner.

“Ready for dessert?” your mom asks after everyone was done eating.

You scoot your chair, rising from your seat. “Actually, I’m not feeling so well.”

“Oh, are you okay sweetheart?” his mother asks.

You smile apologetically, “So sorry to have to leave first.”

“Of course, honey! Bammie, why don’t you bring her home?”

“Oh no, that’s alright.”

“No, no, let me.” Bambam rises from his seat and takes hold of your hand. He gives you an encouraging squeeze. “Thank you for the meal! I’ll get her home safely.”

When you exit the house, you slip your hand from his. He pretends not to notice, leading you to his car quietly.

“Congratulations to our one and only Bambam for winning the Artisan Award, one of the most prestigious art scholarships in the nation.”

The morning announcement rings in his ears and his homeroom bursts in a parade of cheers and congratulations, but his heart lurches and he thinks of you.

He is reminded of the hours you spent afterschool every day in the art studio, working on pieces for your portfolio. He thinks of all the different art programs you attended during school holidays. He remembers your mother’s voice and the way you’d repeat those words during your late-night Instagram messages.

When he sees you at the bus stop immediately after school instead of in the studio, he almost turns the other way, but your eyes meet his and goes to stand next to you instead. You only give him a slight nod before returning to your phone.

It feels like a long time before the bus arrives.

You sit where you always do, near the back, beside the window. He takes the row of seats across from you.

His stomach twists with guilt when he watches your profile. You can probably feel his stare, but you continue to look straight ahead anyways. You’re probably trying hard to look unbothered, but he can see your disappointment clearly. There’s a slouch in your shoulders, a faint frown tilting the edges of your lips.

You are disappointed and probably dislike him right now.

He wonders if you’ll tell him about this over Instagram. He doesn’t know if Muse_ig will be able to console you this time around. He wishes he had the right words to say, but his throat constricts instead.

When your stop arrives, his eyes follow your back as you stand at the door and he beats himself up for having stayed quiet. And when the bus creeps to stop, you hesitate, before turning back to him.

“Congrats, by the way,” you offer him a small smile. “You deserved it.”

You step off the bus before he can say anything back.

You take a different route home for the rest of the school year.

At the red light, Bambam looks over at you. You continue looking straight ahead. There’s a sadness beneath your schooled expression, he can feel this in his gut, but he doesn’t know what to say.

“Y/N,” he starts hesitantly.

“The light’s green,” you interrupt.

He turns his attention back to the room. His gut clenches.

“Cupcake!” he blurts, gripping the wheel.

Your head turns abruptly. “What?”

“C-Cupcake, my cat,” he continues, not quite sure where he’s going with this. “You met her last time.”

After a pause, you reply back, “Yeah, I did.”

“I gave her a haircut. A really bad one. She had a bald spot, so I had to bring her to the groomers to get it fixed,” he rambles. “They tried their best, but she looks really awful right now. It’s pretty funny actually.”

You let out a soft chuckle. “Poor Cupcake.”

He glances at you briefly, his chest fluttering at the sight of your smile again. “You wanna go see my cats? I heard petting cats is therapeutic, although, not much to pet right now.”

Finally, you laugh.

“Sure, why not.”

When you finally get to his place, he knows he said the right thing. You sit on his couch, surrounded by his cats and a soft smile on your face.

“Awful, isn’t it?” he asks, taking a seat next to you. King jumps into his lap and he scoots closer to you.

“Absolutely terrible,” you chuckle, petting Cupcake gently.

“But you’re feeling better, aren’t you?”

You let out a quiet sigh.

“Bambam,” you look at him and his heart drops. “Maybe we should just stop this.”

“Fourteen!”

Your brows arch. “You really need to stop saying things without context.”

He puts King aside and grabs hold of your hand like a lifeline.

“I was fourteen. You mouthed my name on the first day of school. That’s when I started liking you.”

You blink up at him in surprise.

“The painting and photography club had to share the same classroom and I knew you just became the president. I did my brother’s chores for three weeks just so I could borrow his old camera,” he looks at you nervously. “I wasn’t planning on falling for photography. You’re the reason I’m where I’m at today.”

“Y-you’re giving me too much credit.”

He holds your hands tighter, shaking his head.

“Your parents have a screwed-up way of measuring your worth, but I don’t care about your job or how famous you are. I care about the girl who mouthed my name and made me feel special. You’ve always been kind to me, taking me seriously when no one else in our grade did. You were the first person to like my photos and you’ve always encouraged me, even though it came at the cost of your own feelings.” He looks at you seriously, “But it shouldn’t. I don’t want to compete against you, Y/N. I want to be on your side.”

“On my side?” you repeat, looking at your intertwined fingers.

“On your side, by your side,” he whispers. “You’re my muse, my first love, first heartbreak. I’d like you to be my last everything too.”

There’s a pause and his chest aches from the silence.

But then he sees it.

Your dimpled cheek.

“So, you had a crush on me since high school?”

He huffs. “That’s what you got from all that?”

You answer with a giggle, dimpled cheeks and very soft lips on his.

#got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 reactions #bambam #fluff #fanfic #marriage life au

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