#honestly this feels like a bit of a litmus test

[zephyrchama]

I was reading your period one. The funny thing is, I am pretty sure human guys might smell periods too? I'm not really sure...call me crazy but like, my boyfriend can smell my period room it's probably from him being around me 24/7 so it's why he can smell it a small bit i think, so I get more chocolate. Weird thing, huh.

(In reference to this post)

Some people absolutely can! I have a friend who describes it as a faint rotten metallic smell, he's always spot-on at telling when someone is on their period. He has to be within a couple feet of them, but he can tell even if he hardly knows the person. I think my friend is a super rare case though, and like with your boyfriend some people might be able to tell if they're really close? In a vast majority of cases people can't tell, or they don't care enough to think about it.

~

Solomon being able to smell it right off the bat seems too powerful. MC going to him for assistance is already awkward, it doesn't exactly feel normal to talk to acquaintances about personal menstrual cycles. But if he can't smell it, he'll need someone who can to help with their experiments. Otherwise, how can he tell if the spell is a success?

"You can't bring in Luke or Simeon, absolutely not. Never." MC is adamant about not involving anyone else. They hadn't noticed the angels reacting in any way to their period, but if it turns out they could also smell it all along? That's just too embarrassing. Let MC keep their perfect image of the angels intact. "You can't tell them about this, either."

"One of the brothers, then?" Solomon asks.

MC hmms and haws. They know for sure the brothers can smell it, but... That's not ideal, either.

"How about I summon Asmodeus or Barbatos? I can make sure they keep their lips sealed."

Barbatos is sure to keep quiet even without being asked, but MC doesn't want to involve anyone else. Especially not...

"Lord Diavolo? We can ask him? It has to do with his exchange program, after all," Solomon teased.

"We are absolutely not asking the crown prince of the Devildom to sniff my period blood." MC pressed their hands against their eyes. "I'd honestly rather perish on the spot. Can't you do anything? Invent some kind of sensor or a magic litmus test? Or... something. Make your nose better? I don't know." They didn't even know magic was real a few months ago.

"You know, you're right." If Solomon can't naturally smell it, a simple sense enhancing spell would do the trick. "You'd be okay with that?"

A few seconds of thought go by. "If it's you, yeah. I've already troubled you this much. Thanks for letting me rely on you."

Solomon says a few things faster than MC can catch and taps his nose. Suddenly, he's sniffing the air in an embarrassingly familiar way and MC's face turns red.

"I see." Solomon grabs a pen and starts jotting something down on a random page of an empty book.

MC curiously tries to look over his shoulder. Though, they're careful not to get too close. They still have dignity and want to mitigate their smell as much as possible. "What's that? You've already thought of a spell that can cover it up? You're a genius!"

"Hm? Oh, no. I thought of that ages ago. I'm taking notes on what you smell like. It's pretty unique now that I can sense it." All in the name of science.

Fighting cramps and lethargy, MC dives for the notebook and snatches it out of Solomon's hands. No way they're letting a record of this exist.

[ckret2]

Hi, found you through your Hazbin fic "You've Got A Face for Radio" and just. I've already left a comment on the ao3 about the fic in particular, but I also wanted reach out to another aro ace person, because while I do think I am on the ace spectrum, I am still kind of figuring things out. I've talked to a few people about not experiencing attraction, at least in the form most people do, and what they say almost always boils down to "you'll know it when you feel it" and "maybe you've felt it but repressed it subconsciously", which, I know they mean well but, it's not what I think is the case. I'm just. Kind of stuck on the enjoying NSFW stuff if it's fictional characters bit. What even classifies as sexual attraction anyway? Who defines it when it can vary from person to person?

Anyway, I hope I'm not being a bother, it's just that your fic gave me a lot to think. I'd have sent a dm since this might become a discussion (if you're willing) but I'm not sure what the Internet etiquette is here.

"You'll know it when you feel it" "maybe you've repressed it" lmaooo if that isn't THE MOST COMMON line questioning aces/aros get. Have you got "maybe you haven't met the right person" yet? There probably isn't an ace/aro in the world who's explored their identity without some (hopefully) well-meaning but oblivious allo saying one of those things.

When they DO mean well, it comes from a place of not being able to imagine being ace/aro; it seems more likely to most allos that the attraction is hiding rather than absent entirely. You can rest assured that anybody who says that is expressing something about their own understanding of sexuality, rather than anything about their understanding of your sexuality.

Honestly and sincerely, the "enjoying NSFW stuff if it's fictional characters" bit is what personally delayed me from identifying as ace for, like, a decade longer than it had to. "Well hey, I love thinking about sex if it's some kind of alien or robot, that doesn't seem very ace; so I must not be ace, maybe I just haven't yet met a normal real-life person who's interesting enough for me." But that kind of thinking comes from not understanding what being ace is!

Because the criteria for being ace is actually a lot lower than most people think. It's not "never thinks people are attractive," or "disgusted by sexual situations," or even "never wants to have sex." Those can be part of the experience of asexuality but they aren't necessary. (Some aces think people are attractive, just not sexually attractive! Some aces want to have sex, they just aren't sexually attracted to the people they're having it with, they're interested in the act rather than the partner! It's a spectrum!)

The litmus test I personally use for "sexual attraction," and that's worked for a lot of people I know, is this:

Have you ever looked at somebody, thought they were hot, and automatically thought to yourself that you'd LOVE to have sex with them if the opportunity ever arose? Maybe not even realistically wanted that to happen, but just felt that as a gut feeling? Just thought yeah, it'd be hot to sleep with them with the same instinctive immediate reaction that you might, say, see something delicious and think "ohhh that looks so good I wanna eat that" or see a really cool trailer and think "I SO wanna see that movie"?

That's sexual attraction. You, personally, automatically feel like you wanna have sex with somebody—possibly even a stranger!—possibly even if you know you wouldn't actually really choose to do it IRL for whatever reason—just because they're sexy.

If you haven't experienced that specific feeling before, you're almost definitely some flavor of ace.

(And even if you HAVE experienced that feeling before you might still be ace—possibly some flavor of gray-ace or demi-ace. Some people do experience that feeling, but so so very rarely that they feel like their overall experience of sexual attraction is more ace than allo. Some people experience that feeling but ONLY toward somebody they have a deep emotional connection to, whereas allos can experience that feeling toward strangers. Some people experience that feeling but if actually faced with the OPTION to have that sex they're turned off. All of these are ways to be ace. So the litmus test isn't the be-all end-all; but if that feeling has NEVER happened to you, that's probably ace.)

Based on this ask and on the comment you left me on Ao3, I'm guessing your form of engagement with sexuality is like what I wrote about in the fic: reading about characters having wild nasty sex is great, could read smut and/or smutty comics all day, maybe you fantasize about your blorbos screwing, maybe you've gotten off to these fantasies or to smut... but: all your fantasies are about somebody else having sex. Probably somebody else who isn't even real.

Are you ever in those fantasies? How do you feel about "character x reader" fics, does being y/n turn you on or does it squick you out to imagine [character] flirting with YOU? Do you ever think "wow I'D like to fuck [character]" or is it only "I wanna see [character] fuck (but I don't wanna be there myself)"? If "you" ever ARE in these fantasies, is it actually YOU, REALLY YOU, or are you just imagining the fantasy from the perspective of another character who isn't you? Do you ever have a sexual interest in the actors/voice actors, or does your sexual interest in them vanish when you aren't viewing them as their (fictional) character?

I can't tell you whether you're ace; but I can tell you that "I'm ONLY interested in FICTIONAL characters doing EACH OTHER, and I would lose interest if they were real people" is not a normal/common allosexual experience.

And if you're into micro labels, there are a couple under the asexual umbrella that describes that exact experience. The current term is aegosexual. (Older term autochorissexual; that was the current term when I learned it so I still tend to use it lmao.) It's for people whose primary experience of sexuality is fantasies that they themselves aren't part of. It's not mentioned on the page I've linked, but a LOT of aegosexuals have reported that they're specifically most into fantasies about cartoon/drawn characters and other fictional characters—the more "real" they are, the less appealing they are.

(And there's the related term "aegoromantic"—I'm focusing on sexuality here since that's mainly what the ask focused on, and also because historically I've seen less people struggle with "I don't want romance, I just enjoy reading love stories; I must be aro" compared to "I don't want sex, I just enjoy reading smut; I must be ace.")

Learning the term autochorissexual/aegosexual and why it made sense to fit under the ace umbrella is what got me over the hurdle of "oh, hey, I guess I am ace"—if you think it describes your experience, I hope it can help you too. If not, it at least shows just how varied the ace experience can be.

(I'm answering this publicly because I've seen SO MANY PEOPLE grappling with "I like FAKE sex; does that mean I can't be ace?"—many of whom have contacted me because of that fic, shocked to see someone else describe their own experiences and call it a flavor of ace—so I'm hoping this might help other questioning aces/aros! But you're also welcome to DM me!)

[sacchiri]

[Hellsing] Female Fans' Round-Table Discussion

A 6-page interview from the 2012 Hellsing Official Guidebook, featuring five grown-ass women chatting about Hellsing in a casual discussion format and translated into English for the first time ever by yours truly.

Honestly this was way more entertaining to read than I thought it would be. It’s also really funny seeing this super-casual discussion printed in the book right alongside Hirano's—-oh who am i kidding, this is 10x more professional and less deranged than whatever goes on in Hirano’s interviews.

Anyway, without further ado...

Does Hellsing have little to no female fans? Nay! Assembled before you are five women with an undying love for the series. Let’s see their passion for this work show itself as they butt heads!

Is the female fanbase just hiding itself or what?

Moderator: Now then, everyone, let’s start off with introductions.

Ms. T: I am Ms. T. I’ve been walking the path of an otaku since middle school, and it’s already been ● years since then. How do I put this, all of you seem like fairly normal people…

Everyone: Oh no—rest assured we are all otaku as well. (laughter)

Ms T: Oh, really? (laughs) Anyway, I’ve continued to love manga for all this time. Thank you for having me.

Ms J: I’m Ms J. I was already at a decent age when Hellsing began serialization, but to create something so enticing—as expected of Hirano-sensei! (laughs). This is the kind of manga I’d better buy and collect, I thought.

Ms A: Out of today’s gathering, I’m probably the one who became an otaku at the oldest age. (laughs) My friend told me, “Hellsing is a manga that really crazy people read”, so at first I couldn’t get around to starting it. But around the time volume 8 came out, I binge-read it, and it was so interesting that I couldn’t help but get obsessed.

Ms R: I’m probably the youngster in this group. By the time Hellsing started serialization, I was just entering middle school. [T/N: That makes her 27 at the time of this interview.]

Of course we didn’t really have the term "edgy-teen syndrome" back then, but around me the manga was definitely gaining popularity in that edgy teen fashion. One of my best friends was obsessed with Hellsing and I’d borrow it after they finished reading it, and I got addicted too.

Moderator: I’m under the impression that the female readership for Hellsing is overwhelmingly small, but…

Ms J: Nah, I think they’re just hiding. I mean, it’s not like you’d talk about Hellsing to someone in passing. You wouldn’t suddenly say, “Y’know, Alucard is…”

Everyone: True. (laughs)

Ms J: There isn’t much opportunity to bring it up, or perhaps you could say it’s a hard topic to bring up to the general public.

Ms A: Like how you can’t have a pork-and-rice bowl first thing in the morning or something.

Ms J: Yeah, like that. Actually, among my circle of female otaku friends, everyone has read Hellsing.

Ms T: Among manga fans, Kouta Hirano is well-understood.

Ms J: Any fan of manga who doesn’t know Kouta Hirano is a faker!

Ms T: Disregarding whether you’ve properly sat down and read his works or not, I feel like it’s impossible for a manga enthusiast to not have at least heard of Hirano-sensei. But we are talking about manga fans in general, and the range of tastes is so broad. If someone were to say to me “I’m a fan of Kouta Hirano”, only then would I be like, “Oh, so I can talk comfortably with this person”.

Moderator: It’s a good litmus test to use. (laughs)

Ms A: It’s only when you broach the topic of Kouta Hirano that you can finally talk about Hellsing. You can’t go straight from “So I hear you like manga” to “So, about Hellsing…”, lol.

Ms J: If you met someone for the first time and you go “So I heard you like manga? What about Hellsing?” that’s like coming straight for their throat with a knife. (laughs)

Moderator: Even as a gauge to see how much of an otaku your opponent is, it’s a bit too much to try and break the ice with Hellsing.

The wonders of dialogue

Ms J: Speaking of the good points of Hellsing, I think it’s that it doesn’t get overly preachy. You can see this starting from Cross Fire, but you really get the sense that everyone’s equally crazy here.

Ms A: I can see that. No one is on the side of justice. Like the Major, he’s a nasty little guy. The type of guy who would casually twist off an ant’s legs or something like that.

Ms J: That Major, his beta male levels are literally off the charts.

Everyone: (bursts into laughter)

Ms J: Actually, something that caught my interest about the setting is that only virgins can become vampires. In the first place, I don’t think European vampire lore makes that kind of distinction.

Ms T: Father Anderson is probably a virgin, since he has religious reasons for celibacy. Though it might depend on religious sect. I wonder if there’s a meaning behind this concept of chastity?

Ms J: The idea of chastity is valued in the Hellsing universe as well.

Ms A: Right, since if you aren’t a virgin you become a ghoul, and then it’s game over and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Ms R: Speaking of which, Integra’s a virgin, too.

Ms T: Integra being a virgin is an important part of the story.

Ms J: In my personal opinion, the best couple is definitely Alucard and Integra.

Ms R and Ms A: I was going to say the same!

Ms T: Integra and Alucard call each other “Count”, don’t they? You know, in a previous life it’s possible that Integra was a man. Perhaps Alucard is seeing the Count Hellsing of the past through Integra. Thinking about that possibility makes a girl’s heart flutter. Not to mention Integra’s appearance leans towards that of a man— Ah, it’s just so peak! [T/N: I'm not being facetious, 盛り literally means peak]

Ms A: Those who want to read a male/female romance can enjoy doing so, and for people who like BL, there are plenty of elements that can be enjoyed as BL also. I feel like the reason you can enjoy both things is because the relationships that are depicted are not constrained purely to sexual love.

Ms J: For those who like to read into the BL aspect, there are lots of fight scenes that can’t be ignored, can they? Particularly in the endgame. Like Girlycard and Young Walter, that was...really something.

Moderator: That part was just unfair! I mean, after getting captured by Millennium and going M.I.A., all that anticipation was building and building, and for Walter to be reintroduced like that!

Ms J: When I got to that part I was like, “Man, Hirano-sensei really did his best to keep all that stuff pent-up for so long". For both Walter and Girlycard, I mean.

Moderator: Speaking of Girlycard, I get the feeling that the idea for her was in place since the early stages of story development.

Ms J: I wonder about that… on the other hand it seems like it was a very spontaneous decision. (laughs)

Ms A: Even if the story developments feel spontaneous, I feel like the characters' settings are polished to a high degree from the beginning. Even though a new character suddenly appears out of nowhere, you end up following along without feeling a sense of discomfort. In Hirano-sensei's mind, I'm sure that each character is cultivated with an equal amount of attention. After that it's just a matter of deciding what situations the character will appear in.

Ms J: Each character is excellently molded to their place in the story. Even though normally it should be very challenging to create characters that would fit in this sort of world. (laughs) From the moment of their introduction, they are already dyed in Hirano's unique brand, and you can tell that Hirano understands them well.

Ms R: After all, characters from his past works before Hellsing make appearances in the manga, so you get the feeling that these are ideas that have been stewing in his head for a long time.

Moderator: And within Hellsing too, these characters grow and develop. Like Maxwell—he started out as a mere brat, but then he went full tryhard mode and developed that cunning and pretentious side to him.

Everyone: (leans forward) Yeah, that's right!!

Ms J: —And he had that past with Anderson, didn't he? I was like "Hold on a sec, a flashback scene now, are you kidding me"? Even though I knew that a flashback is basically a death flag, I couldn't help but love it. (laughs)

Ms A: At the final moment, Maxwell called Anderson "Sensei", a reversal of their dynamic thus far. Up until then there were hints of foreshadowing, but nothing definite. But with that single word you could feel the adoration Maxwell had felt for Anderson when he was a child... It's amazing how potent that line was. The timing of delivery was excellent, too.

Ms R: Up until that point Maxwell was portrayed as nothing more than a snob, but the truth is there were reasons why he became that way.

Ms T: Hirano-sensei is very skilled at depicting relationships between men.

The beauty of composition

Ms A: In Hellsing, there aren't any characters that go too far beyond the range of normal anatomy.

Even with regards to enemies and such, there aren't any massively gargantuan or bulky characters. Everyone is more or less normal. And yet, there is so much impact in the poses that it leaves you with a strong impression. Those standout panels just radiate style—so much so that anyone with an eye for art will be impressed by them, I think.

Ms T: The paneling is relatively simple, but the composition sense of each panel is amazing.

Ms R: I love the stuff like Rip Van's silhouette. The balance between her and the musket is super cool. Even though something that size in real life would be impractical to shoot, it looks so cool that it's like, "Who cares!"

Ms A: Fight scenes that should have a lot of movement are instead surprisingly depicted with still frame shots, and they have a beauty to them reminiscent of paintings. It makes me want to stare at the same handful of panels for a long time. Calling it aesthetic beauty might be a bit of an exaggeration, but...

Ms T: Not an exaggeration at all, I think there is a lot of aesthetic beauty. For me, when I look at Hirano-sensei's artwork, I'm reminded of ukiyo-e paintings. And in the movement, I sense a bit of kabuki theater.

Moderator: Each panel is created with beauty in every nook and cranny, so as to work as a standalone illustration.

Ms R: The way shadow and blood is depicted is so good, isn't it? It really makes full use of the monochrome medium.

Ms A: When I was reading the scene in volume 8 when Cromwell Level 0 is released and soldiers are unleashed in hordes, it reminded me of a medieval copperplate engraving. The plot developments in that moment were so interesting, and the density of the illustrations so rich, that simply staring at them was enjoyable.

Ms T: It really draws you in, doesn't it? In other manga that have very detailed art styles, the realism makes it feel similar to a liveaction movie. But Hirano's works are 100% "manga", I would say. In that sense, none of it is realistic at all. But that's why it's possible to achieve poses and compositions that are impossible with photography, and that's why he can portray things I didn't even know I would want to see.

The position of women in Hellsing

Moderator: To all of you, was there a scene where you were like, "This scene right here is where I became obsessed"?

Ms J: So this is my personal taste, but I liked the setup of the handsome lady Master and the handsome male Servant. I like butlers, too. So once those three conditions were satisfied, I was like, "This is a good manga". The part where I was like "This is a really good manga" was when Anderson was introduced. At first, I was thinking this would be a story where Alucard dotes upon Seras and raises her up as a vampire, but then we were introduced to a Catholic priest from the same religion, yet who aims to defeat the protagonists...

Ms A: You can't deny the impact of Anderson. The only thing he wants to do is "exterminate vampires". While characters in Hellsing may undergo sudden changes, they never waver. They race from their introduction to their final chapter with just as much momentum as when they were first introduced. Not only is it satisfying to read, you won't be disappointed. As long as your favorite character appears, you can focus all your attentions on them, and before you know it you'll have binge-read to the last chapter. (laughs)

Ms T: For me, the scene when Integra discovers Alucard in the basement, and Alucard was revived with her blood is when I became hooked. While it is an expected development for vampire stories, that part of the story was very beautiful. And afterwards, I loved the tender portrayal of Seras's growth. Among ero-guro media, there are many works that portray women in a demeaning manner, but Hellsing is not one of them.

Ms A: In Hellsing, there is no distinction in the roles that are assigned to men and women.

Ms J: Indeed, women fight and stand on the front lines. And it feels natural.

Ms R: To tell the truth, when I first started reading Hellsing, I thought Integra was a man. And, for some reason it felt overly pandering [T/N: I assume she means pandering to fujoshi] and I just couldn't get into it. But then I realized Integra was a woman, and I was like "Oh, so it's a female/male master-servant relationship! I'm sorry for making such a weird assumption!" (laughs) I feel like it's important that Integra is a woman.

Ms T: In volume 1 there were moments where Integra was told incredulously, "You're a woman?", but in those moments I always felt that, ironically, being called a "woman" was what made her so much more cool. In Hellsing, you get the feeling that all characters are loved by the creator regardless of being male or female, enemy or ally. There are many standout characters among the villains, for example.

Ms J: Each character showcases their individuality in their fighting style as well.

Ms A: I love that Rip Van is this scrawny girl with long limbs, who wields an old-fashioned musket—it gives off a really fantastic impression. The fact that a girl is given that kind of position, without it feeling offensive. When men draw female characters there tends to be a bit of double standards going on, or it can feel cloying or annoying depending on the scenario, but I don't feel that in Hellsing.

Ms J: Far from being annoying, the depictions of women feel unique and cool in their own way.

Ms A: You're right. Traditionally, female characters are accompaniments to the hero, aren't they? But Integra takes the lead, and while Seras is supported by those around her, she moves according to her own choices. Even among the female villains, they are given important roles that they carry out to the end, so you can read while feeling a sense of satisfaction.

Points you would recommend to other women

Ms T: Doesn't the series in general have a sort of sensuality?

Ms J: It does. As it gets nearer and nearer to the endgame, even the fight scenes show more tenderness. It's like a "They love each other, therefore they trade blows" vibe that feels erotic.

Ms R: When Alucard returned to London in volume 8, it felt pretty romantic.

Ms T: On the other hand, the explanations about weapon specs that pop up everywhere seem very male-oriented. I guess this is what you call the author's hobby.

Ms J: Speaking of the author's hobby, I feel like the fact that Walter is an old man is one of them. If you think about it purely in terms of reader appeal, there should have been no problem if Walter was young from the beginning. I get the impression that he was like, "If you're going to add a butler, it better be an old geezer". Ahh—the more I reread, the more I feel like I discover new things.

Moderator: There is plenty more we weren't able to talk about, but to close us off, please appeal to the women who haven't read Hellsing yet as to why they should read the series.

Ms A: The female characters are so full of life, so why not give it a try mainly for the female characters?

Ms T: You can read it together with your boyfriend! There are lots of battles and weapons that guys would like, and there's no nasty relationship drama, so it might actually be a big hit among couples.

Ms J: "Look at Integra and Alucard, honey, they're just like us!" or something? (laughs)

Ms R: When you think of vampire media, you might be inclined to imagine something campy and whimsical. But even though there's a lot of absurdism at play, the world is based on real historical facts. So I want to recommend it broadly, even to those that don't normally enjoy fantasy.

Ms T: I feel like Hellsing is like a very strong liquor. At first you might feel that the taste is overwhelming, but once you get used to it, it becomes delicious.

Ms J: Please go in with zero expectations and give it a read.

Moderator: Thank you all for your time today!

--------------------------------------------------------

Link to the raw scans (which are not mine). Feel free to spread and repost my translation to other sites.

[icaruskeyartist]

Oh! Oh! Can you do the human diguise? Just anything really.

But if you want ideas I'm thinking maybe...

Sun wants to read some books but he himself doesn't know where to even start because outside of a few picture books for abolute toddlers DCA never even held a one in their hands!

maybe about knitting? or general survival tricks? or maybe just some novels?

So Sun asks librarian for recomendations but in his excitment he goes thourght books far faster that should be humaly possible and then he catches himself and is seriously afraid but

the librarian just worry the books they recomend must be not what Sun needed because this guy CLEARLY doesn't read them at all.

Ahh you've unlocked a core memory of mine. I might've gone off the rails and put a little too much of me into y/n but here we are.

As always, Human Disguise AU belongs to @pillowspace. She just lets me play in her sandbox.

"You haven't even used your library card yet?" You're almost offended for the library honestly. A building full of worlds and your new friend hasn't even touched them.

"It's been a bit hard to find the time, buuut I want to!" Sun's quick to reassure you when you frown (pout really) at him. "I do, I promise. Maybe you can give me some recommendations on where to start?"

The magic words. Every job has that One Task that makes it worth it. When you had been a cashier it'd been your uncanny ability to pack bags perfectly. As a janitor, it was leaving a floor sparkling clean after a night pushing the waxer. And here?

Here it was finding the perfect book for someone to read.

"Okay let me think," you say, grabbing a cart of returns to push. "I don't know if you're more of a nonfiction or fiction reader. I need some clues."

Sun's chuckle is just a little on the shy side. Cute. "I'm not entirely sure I know either. Sorry." At your exaggerated sigh, you catch a glimpse of his gloved hands raising in mock surrender. "I really will enjoy whatever you decide!"

"Okay well, you've given me a challenge. Let's find a few things and see what you like the most." You shove the cart a little too hard around the corner, catching a misplaced stool. The cart jerks and Sun grabs it before you can tip it over and lose all your books. "Oh sorry! Are you okay?" This is what you get for being too excited.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Are you?" Sun rests his hand on you for just a moment, jerking away just as if he's been burned. It hurts, just a little, but he just seems to be adverse to touch. So you bite your tongue and deal.

"I'm fine. You're my hero, saving the cart," you say, watching Sun's face. He turns away, and you can only guess he's being shy. "Anyway, I have an idea for your first book."

"Oh?" He trails after you as you abandon your cart, far too excited. You duck into the crafts section, finding the colorful spine of a well worn book. "Knitting?"

"You're always so bundled up. I think you'll enjoy making your own mittens and things. Oh and! Arthurian legends. That'll be a good litmus test for what sort of stories you like."

Sun takes the knitting book and follows you as you go from shelf to shelf, creating a precarious pile in his arms. Your cart has been lost to the stacks, and you find yourself babbling about the different people you've helped find books for over the years.

"You love books," Sun says as you make it back it back to the reference desk to check him out.

"I do," you agree, smiling to yourself. "I read a lot as a kid. It was like... I don't know. Having friends? It sounds silly, I know."

"I don't think so." Sun brushes against your hand again on a cover decorated with embossed ivy and a golden sword. You freeze, and his hand lingers, close enough you can feel the tickle of his glove's fuzzy thread. "I think it's wonderful you were able to find friends in these stories. I can't wait to meet them myself."

You sort of stumble through the rest of the conversation, face hot. Usually it's easy enough to laugh off your own excitement sharing books, but with Sun responding so earnestly...

It's nearly dark out when you finally get off, yawning and stretching. You had to relocate your cart and spent the rest of the day putting things away and trying not to seek out your friend as he read. You'd noticed the one book, the Arthurian one, already back in the return bin.

Sun is waiting for you at the door, as he has been doing the past week and change. "I take it King Arthur wasn't up to your taste?" You ask by way of greeting.

"What? Oh, no! I loved it. The knights are so gallant. But it's so melancholic as well, reading their adventures. I feel bad for Lady Morgan the most."

"You do?" Sun is a reassuring presence in the evening light. "But you've already returned it."

"Oh, um." There's a heavy pause. "I think I just got so invested in the story I forgot to put it down."

You knew fast readers, and that seemed nearly plausible. Nearly. You still give a doubtful squint at him. But maybe you're being too judgemental. "I'll see if I can't find any happier stories with Morgan in them. She used to be a healer, you know. In the early stories."

"Really? Tell me about them."

You're more than happy to, tracing the memories of the old stories in the air as you speak. You nearly miss your road, stumbling to a stop when you hit an unfamiliar crack in the sidewalk. And it's there you say goodnight, leaving Sun to go home himself with thoughts of gallant knights and magic swords to keep himself occupied until you saw him again.

[skeletonpendeja]

Fav horror movie recommendations if you feel like sharing? I try to watch one a day in Oct and my list is a little light this year!

Hi hi hi I'm gonna be obnoxious and recommend a few of varying moods!! (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

1.) Ring

One of the main inspirations for the J-Horror boom in the early 2000's, Ring (often referred to as "Ringu") is a moody suspense flick with aspirations towards solving the mystery of a mysterious curse transmitted via VHS tape.

Based on the novel by Koji Suzuki, Ring captures the mood and tone of the book much moreso than the American Remake (which as far as American remakes go is loud but fine) and has a few stand out moments. It's definitely a favorite of mine.

CW: Child Abuse, Mild Body Horror

Liked this? Check out: Ju-On 2, Ring 0, and One Missed Call.

2.) Sleepaway Camp

Definitely not a popular pick, Sleepaway Camp is a typical summer camp slasher (as was the style at the time) and holds up shockingly well*** all things considered! (We'll get to the asterisk in the CW)

Sleepaway Camp is carried by odd, earnest, and fun performances, the kids are kids who yell, swear, and are silly, the adults are either Shakespearean or complete planks of wood, and they all bounce off each other with really naturalistic and hysterical dialogue, it's very quotable. A great fun time with friends. BUT...

CW: Spoilers! Transphobia, the entire film has trickles of mild queer symbolism in some dream sequences, but the big ending reveal is that surprise! The killer is trans! And that is depicted as being more horrifying than the decapitated head they're holding. In the queer lens I view this in today it's quite a fun film with a lot of revenge kills but it's still, in the text and to the mass audience, it's quite a Hallmark of pop culture transphobia. Take is or leave is.

Like this? Check out: Basket Case, Nightmare on Elm Street 2, Cabin in the Woods (I don't like that one but it tends to be loved by most who watch it)

3.) Us

Something more contemporary, more artistic, and honestly funny, Us by Jordan Peele is a very interesting high concept film, and his second overall. The concept of the doppelganger is not new, but to see it plain as day, so well executed is super interesting to see properly.

Us gets a lot of flack for being a bit more bloated and messy compared to other Peele films, but I like to think of the looseness of the rules and the bleakness of the metaphor to be very engaging and beautiful

CW: General violence

Like this? Check out: Nope, Get Out, Uzumaki (yes actually, I think they have a similar situation of an unnatural and bleak conflict that can't really be solved)

4.) La Casa Lobo

Where the fuck do I start with this one, La Casa Lobo is in universe, a propaganda-y children's story for a midsommar ass cult, and it is as beautiful as it is horrifying. This stop motion, paper maché, charcoal nightmare is always moving, always uncanny, and always isolating. It's phenomenal, and while it's premise may be simple, entering the wolf house will make you feel like you can't leave.

CW: animal violence, child endangerment, it's uncanny as fuck.

Like this? Check out: Mad God, Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio, Midsommar

4.) [•REC]

This Spanish found footage "zombie" movie is a blast from start to end with great pacing. Not so much a story as it is more of a "things happening" movie, [•REC] never fails to deliver on the tension or scares. I have a soft spot for the film, as I saw it as a kid with my folks IN PARTS on YouTube like a fucking anime

If that doesn't age me I don't know what will.

CW: Child death, particularly jumpscarey, gore and body horror

Like this? Check out: [•REC2] (think Aliens compared to Alien), The Mandela Catalogue (yes really), Quarantine (American Remake that's not, terrible?)

5.) heck/Skinamarink

Predecessor to recent indie smash hit, Skinamarink, heck is the litmus test as to whether or not you can stomach Skinamarink. Slow, creeping, exclusively diagetic, and immensely creepy. There is little plot, and it's again an experience, but one that feels like a living breathing Nightmare.

The reason heck is here first instead of Skinamarink, is mainly length vs quality vs density. Skinamarink is a very good picture but for the average person it wears out it's welcome by the 1 hour mark, and we still got like 40 min to go. heck is a bite sized 30 minute short film that just gets to the point quicker. However with the reduced runtime, you lose the density of the atmosphere. It's both better but lesser. Both heck and Skinamarink are fine movies, but definitely pick which one you wanna see based on the mood of the evening and your company

CW: body horror, child endangerment (lot of that on this list)

Like this? Check out: Paranormal Activity, The Mandela Catalogue, Vita Carnis

Other Curiosities worth exploring

The Cabinet of Dr. Calagari - it's the first, it's beautiful, and still an admirable work of art to this day, around 100 years later

Gojira - while the character is nowadays more of an action property, the original Gojira is still incredibly harrowing

Tetsuo the Iron Man - loud, intense, and metal as fuckkk. Tetsuo is a more surreal extreme horror movie full of body horror and antagonistic sound design

Chainmail Chasers - a quaint horror series based off of the old smiledog creepypasta. Considering it's just like one gal and her friends it's very impressive, still in progress

Local 58 - a well regarded foreboding horror series regarding mysteries around the moon and how that relates to the local news station

Okay that's it sorry bYE!! (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

[beautifulpersonpeach]

I miss your long posts about Jimin BPP. I was kinda skeptical when you said you can't write about your biases so I kinda tried to trick you with the ask about RM but you just posted his pictures in reply and ignored the other ask I - 🧍

If you don't my asking is there a reason you can't write about your biases the way you used to write about Jimin? Prolly not a huge deal but it's kinda impressive you had such a positive view of Jimin when you didn't bias him. It only makes me wonder how much more positively you see him now that he is someone you bias. Also makes me wonder about some members you like who I've heard bad things about but don't know as well. I wish you could explain what you love about your biases so I can get another view of their personalities and skills.

***

To give you some perspective, I just got off the phone with a Hobi-biased friend (call her Z) because after my Friday night plans just suddenly changed (I'm now staying in tonight), I texted my partner about the changed plans, took a shower, pre-heat my oven, and called Z to have a full blown freakout over how Hobi got a bald high fade that's symmetrical to his brow fade...

And yes I'm very proud of myself.

But I also know practically everything I said on that call would get me cancelled, tarred, feathered, slutshamed and dragged harder than an Indian in a Steinbeck novel.

And that's the bits that by some miracle were coherent.

I'm sorry to everyone who followed me to read about Jimin, but I honestly can't promise to write about him going forward. Anyone who wants to unfollow this blog is of course more than free to, no harm no foul. I'm not trying to be dramatic and it's not like something I'm doing consciously. Writing about my biases is just harder because I know I'm unhinged about them when I'm excited and so writing, filtering, everything becomes near impossible. A lot of you compliment me for my words but I honest to god can't string a sentence together in English without thinking through it a few times, I can't easily write about the people I feel this much love for, most of the time, and that list now includes Jimin.

Here's a post with some selected Jimin posts from this year. I made that list partly because I'd seen a few people talking about how I don't talk about Jimin anymore, so it's a quasi peace offering. Alternatively, you can search my blog by "#jimin" or "#jimin only" hashtags to find my past posts about him.

I've got a quip about what you said here though:

"...it's kinda impressive you had such a positive view of Jimin when you didn't bias him. It only makes me wonder how much more positively you see him now that he is someone you bias."

I personally judge k-pop stans by how they talk about Jimin and a few other idols. It's been my litmus test for something going on 5 years now and never failed me. At the same time though, like everyone else I like the guys and have things I dislike too, and that doesn't change when an idol becomes a bias. At least it doesn't in my case lol.

Sorry again to you and all the Jimin biases who follow me, about the drought of Jimin posts. It's not an intentional choice, I'm just kind of a weirdo in that way.

[aestariiwilderness]

Bad Batch Season 3, Episode I Don't Even Know And Honestly Will Not Be Keeping Track * SPOILERS * (solely because Mina Nunyabiz *REAL NAME REDACTED* has gone on so many diatribes about this inexcusable social faux pas on Tumblr known as failing to accurately and comprehensively tag your posts for pieces of media which some people haven't gotten to watching yet and this means that if they wish to be on Tumblr without getting unwanted foreknowledge they have to undergo some vast and imprecise tribulation known as filtering by tag)

I have come to two, nay, three, EIGHT whole conclusions: a. Tech hacked the Star Wars Internet. b. Tech was the Star Wars Internet. c. Pabu does not have Star Wars Internet. d. The Batch cannot function without their Internet. e. The Batch has lost its sole functioning strategic brain cell. Hemlock caught it when Tech fell. The muscle and the face are kind of just winging it now; the auxiliary brain cell said "haha see you later, losers, I need to be Rex's chauffeur"; and the attitude's first and only plan is, as always, just "KILL". f. These men are adorable and also utter morons. g. Crosshair has no experience with women. Ever. He doesn't even know how to talk to them. They're a different species to him even when they aren't literally a different species. His two methods of social interaction just recently expanded to three (murder, snark, and now mother hen) and still none of them have anything to do with proper behavior towards adult females. Let alone one who doesn't share his genes. You can tell by the way he wildly swung from default "PICK FIGHT/KILL" to "offer genteel non-sarcastic hand up to my ship without sarcasm after you almost got my Stockholm syndroming sister killed by a giant turtle because if I can't kill you I literally am at a loss for how to behave towards you". h. Tech was the only member of the squad who ever bothered to get a newspaper and check to see who they were actually fighting.

Omega IS unsettling. Well noticed Venti

Hunter, continuing to be the king of asking the specific follow-up questions that the audience feels is relevant and the askee absolutely cannot answer without losing their mysterious vibes (see: season 1 finale -- "WHEN did you have your chip removed, exactly" "Does it matter?" "YES")

Hunter, continuing to be the king of not getting an answer to his very reasonable specific follow-up question

For special ops commandos in a war they were literally created to fight, these guys do not seem to have much of a concept of "stranger danger"

"ASKING FOR A FRIEND" omigosh Omega. I have never been so ashamed of you. The big fascist experiment-happy regime is after you. WHY CAN YOU STILL NOT LIE

Why is Omega just. In charge now

And still the most unbelievable thing about this episode was like half a minute in with Crosshair willingly helping a random Pabuan AND not mercing them when they dared to smile, thank him, and use his name

HOWEVER MANY EPISODES IN AND WE JUST GOT TO THE ANSWER THAT EVERYBODY ALREADY KNEW ABOUT M-COUNTS

WAY TOO MANY EPISODES IN AND WE STILL DIDN'T GET A STRAIGHT-UP ANSWER ABOUT OMEGA'S

Qui-gon had a blood test! With a little litmus stick and everything! The crazy weed-addicted space monk had a scientific stick he jabbed baby Anakin with and HEY PRESTO M-COUNT SPREADSHEET. WHERE IS THAT HANDY BIT OF TECHNOLOGY HUH

[m-arahuyo]

some questions for writers !!

tagged by the lovely @luvwich :’) thanks so much for the tag!!

aight here goes

Last book I read: if not, winter (fragments of sappho) by anne carson. this is like. from way back january this year :’)

(sidebar that i am looking for her eros the bittersweet. took me years to cop if not, winter, so……)

Greatest literary inspirations: anne carson (the only sappho translations i accept in my life are hers), pablo neruda, fernando pessoa, haruki murakami, and, songwriter incoming, brandon boyd

Things in my current fandom I want to read but I don't want to write:

cyberpunk: honestly…… jus a songbird/panam/v ot3. out on the road. havin a good time. bein sweet. but, yknow, still fuckin bitches up. can anybody hear me

Things in my current fandoms I want to write but I think nobody would be interested in them but me:

cyberpunk: i’ve sort of started a series exploring songv across the game’s diff endings, but like, people are generally reading fanfic for the Happy (understandable) and most of the game’s endings jus weren’t built for Happy, yknow? so……

You can recognise my writing by: raw doggin. sprinkles of errors and/or typos bec i am Bad at proofreading :’) verbose/overlong sentences, lots of references to bodies and body parts, “teeth”, Devotion(tm), lots of body fluids in smut

My most controversial take (current fandom): not sure if this a take per se, but what fans think of so mi after that Big Reveal at NCX is my litmus test for their empathy. like, honestly, anybody can make whatever choice they want on what do w her after that, but to so easily think she deserves all the bad shit for the lie? ye pal sure :’)

Top three favourite tropes: PINING !!! enemies to lovers, and i mean that in a tearing each other down or straight up attempted murder. and what’s it called when the blorbo is jus written as raw power, unhinged, decidedly unattractive, bloody and beaten, on the brink of madness and/or death?? distillation? ye that, Love That

What’s your current writing mood (10 – super motivated and churning out words like crazy, 0 – in a complete rut): i will say…… a strong 2 :’) ye last long form took q a bit out of me and i’ve been laying so long on the floor that i’ve become it. do i have ideas tho? ye!! do i have the words for them? abs not

Share a random frustration: being treated like i’m borderline invisible at work since my last day is april 30th (don’t mind that) but then groveling to me to help fix royally fucked up shit anw when they come a-knocking (mind that very much) ?? can we not be hypocrites please

aight only taggin my angel @sp4cedr4g0n here bec errbody else be shy, that’s cool :’) feel free to do this when u want and tag me tho!! hearts love ilu

[kittydoggie]

Now that it's settled a bit, some thoughts on the Chris-chan nonsense

One of the more interesting and unexpected things regarding the entire Chris-chan debacle is what a good litmus test it is for who is truly a trans ally. I've seen people who I otherwise feel have good intentions say things such as “I'm not going to use the pronouns Chris asks for because horrible people don't deserve it.”

This indignity is one that is solely reserved for trans offenders. No one intentionally misgenders cis criminals, no matter how unsavory. They don't have to earn the privilege of their very identity. Not even Hitler is called “she” or “it” out of distate.

Consider it for a moment, how lunatic it is: Hitler, the most well-known genocidal maniac, the go-to generic option for “Worst Person Ever Award” in at least the English-speaking world, has a more valid identity than any trans offender.

I would wonder why, but the truth is that those who engage in this behavior simply aren't at the point that they want to look inward and see the vast amount of transphobia that they're still carrying and enacting. This goes for both cis allies and trans people, themselves.

If you truly believe in trans rights, then you believe in the right of self-determination for everyone, including bad people. Full stop. It isn't something that can be revoked just because you don't like a person.

I'm honestly rather thankful when she trends, not because I want to see more of the debacle, but because I can tell who actually considers trans people human and who is just humoring us for clout.

TL;DR:

Even bad people have the right to be known by their proper pronouns.

[i-expect-you-to-die]

Some original concept art for Jet Set in IEYTD 2, and some development insight by Zachary D. Coe

Art & dev insight below - I couldn't include the speedpaint of drawing the art, but you can watch through the link,

"So I’m following up with the I Expect You to Die 2 art that I did, and I’m now allowed to talk about the Jet Set key art. - Design knew early on in development that we wanted a level set in a private jet, and we spent a LOT of time testing this level in white box first. We worked to get that luxurious feel of a private aircraft/limo in the sky with the décor, architecture, etc. And all with the understanding that this had to work within the VR space. - And because our goal was to build this with a fairly real-world scale and dimension, we also had to work to be very careful with placement of storage spaces and hidden compartments. For instance, the outer walls of a plane are pretty thin, so we had to be careful how much stuff we tried to hide in wall panels. - The same with hidden table panels, there’s very little room to work with, so we had to carefully lay out where each compartment in the table was, and how they could open without interfering with the openings of neighboring storage slots. - As I worked to create all of that feel, I have to say that one of my favourite bits of the key art painting I did in this post is the John Juniper duck. After I painted this in, the team liked it so much that there was a brief time where the team considered making themed rubber duckies be the hidden collectibles throughout the game, but ultimately decided to go in another direction. - Still though, a super fun idea game idea was considered, based on something I had a chance to concept. For me, that is definitely the most satisfying part of doing concept art. As most of you know by now, being a concept artist means constantly having to work through a lot of iterations and incorporate many ideas and produce tons of art, some of which may never be seen by the public. Many of your ideas may honestly not work, and you have to develop a thick skin for sure. So it is an incredibly great feeling when something from a concept inspires the team enough to even consider it in gameplay. - All in all it was fun challenge as there were SO many complex interconnected elements to this level to figure out, but I had an absolute blast working on it.

- For all those considering a career in concept art, this is the perfect example and a great litmus test as to whether or not you would enjoy it. I happen to love complex pieces and lots of puzzles and figuring things out. That’s a part of concept art that really makes me excited and keeps me going. - But I’m not gonna kid you, it is a lot of repetition and putting together hundreds of puzzle pieces, without the picture on the box to guide you. Add in a lot of opinions and various ever-changing art direction as well and it’s a challenge for sure, but for me that is part of the fun!"

[wisteria-lodge]

bird primary + snake secondary (bird model)

hi! apologies if this is all over the place, im going a little crazy. so, i am going absolutely crazy trying to figure out my primary and secondary. i used to think i was a snake bird (modeling badger snake), but then i started thinking about it and went “hm. maybe im actually a double snake?” and now im thinking i might be a lion snake or . something. i have absolutely no idea. i do know ive either exploded or burnt both primary and secondary at some point though.

So some Exploding or Burning, probably an Internal primary (Snake or Lion) with an I Move secondary (Bird or Snake.) Let’s see what we have. 

so, ive always thought i must be a snake primary because i’m very people-oriented (and i regard people with a certain type of possessiveness), but thats mostly because like… i have an intrinsic fear of being alone thanks to lgbt things (im aromantic - so the internalized arophobia and fear of dying alone is REAL big, esp considering my ex was just straight-up an arophobe) and mental illness issues (i have autism and ptsd that both mesh together to create my being incredibly anxious when around new people/situations - which doesnt lend itself well to interacting with others, so when i do latch onto someone, i latch on HARD). 

Just breathe. It’s okay. But yeah, that’s survival mode human stuff. We do have Burnt secondary language “not good at dealing with new people/situations” etch. And you *did* apologize to me first thing, which is my favorite litmus test for whether a secondary is burnt or not. 

i would not feel bad dropping each and every person in my life for literally zero reason other than i didnt like their vibes. in fact, i really wish i felt comfortable enough to do that! 

Cool. That’s kinda badass. Make me think Idealist primary... and probably Lion, who are classically the most comfortable being loners. 

im so tired all the time, and being the resident mom friend doesnt help that at all. 

ooooh we’ve got a burnt secondary, compensating Badger secondary model. (Or possibly just badger secondary.) 

ive honestly started getting a bit resentful of my friends bc i feel like theyre making me take care of them (though i know they arent).

That’s a common problem with Badger secondary people who aren’t *really* protective of their boundaries. 

so… i guess it would be helpful to explain my morals and motivations, huh?? to be blunt, i really dont know what they currently are. ive started pulling away from relying on other people. which is really healthy for me i think. i used to rely on my ex in particular to handle all of my morals (with them convincing me i was actually evil in the process - they were abusive) and im really glad that im healing enough to stop outsourcing at least that, but im still trying to build up… something to rely on. 

You’re the second SortMe post in a row that to use the specific phrase “outsourcing my morals,” but I don’t think I’m going to sort you the same way, and I’ll tell you why. 

Mainly what I am doing here is making what I consider to be statistically likely guesses. I’ve read a lot of these, and it’s enough to start seeing patterns. And I can tell you that “gaslighting ex” is MUCH more of Burnt Bird primary story, than a Burnt Lion primary story. Put that together with “I’m trying to build up... something to rely on”... and I’d be very surprised if you weren’t a Bird, friend.

i really dont ever feel quite secure. especially not enough to actually express myself as myself. hopping from relationship to relationship has been my stand-in for support up to now, but relationships are just … augh. i dont like them. ive always also felt a drive to protect and care for people (and animals! i wanted to do wildlife rehab growing up, and on the people side ive been interested in anthropology) in need

Sounds like a pretty good start to building a system. 

which sounds very badgery on paper, but honestly i cant relate to badgers really at all. something about it just doesnt really fit me, i guess? i cant relate to the community aspect of it. like yes, every person is a person, but also like. thats not whats important to me. i want to do good things, and be good, or at least better than i was before, and yes that involves taking care of those in need (to me at least), but its not… like how badgers are typically described. i dont even have anything against badgers, i really like them, but im just. not that.

You’re not a Badger. You like some of the values, but your life is not built out of communities, and you seem to like it that way.

i have also almost never forgiven anyone in my life. the few times i have ended up being mistakes, so never again. 

There was another Bird primary post that made the important distinction that there’s forgiving someone... and then there’s letting them back in to do the same thing again. 

on the snake side, i feel like i might have used to rank people according to how important they are to me, but i think that was more of a learned thing than anything else. i really admire snakes, and i want to be one, but i feel more like im just . not being genuine when i think of myself as one, even though thats what i get each time i take the official shc test (which i have recently taken the 2.0 one) and what ive considered myself to be for years now. its stopped fully fitting (unless im somehow gaslighting myself here) and i really dont know what to do about that. 

You also weren’t in a very healthy place recently, and it’s a lot harder to get a read on yourself when you’re not doing okay. (Not impossible, just... harder.) 

like, ill live, its really not that big of a deal, but i still have emotions and its still difficult. i dont like being wrong.

That’s also sounding pretty Bird to me. Both “I don’t like being wrong” and the “my emotions are difficult.” If you were a Lion, those emotions would be your compass, but Birds don’t work that way. 

on the how i do things side - i tend to react very aggressively when what/who i care about gets fucked over, and see no problem with being vicious or lying, acting, whatever i need to do to get my point across. i dont view it as bad. whatever works, works yknow? 

Okay, so you’re probably a Snake or a Bird secondary (which you knew.) And I do see where that Snake primary false positive is coming from. You have some Snake values in your system for sure, but you don’t sound like a Snake when you talk. 

i do like planning at least an outline before things, but im also perfectly content throwing it out the window. though i do enjoy collecting little bits of info i can use later! and learning! and using what i learn! but its very much a “oooohhh this is fun!!!” type thing. 

So that’s at least a fun Bird model (and it seems like every single neurodivergent person has a Bird model, so that’s not all that surprising.) 

i am not a hard worker. at all. i HATE doing things the badger sec way. it sucks and i hate it and i just want to get things done with immediately right now.

Hmm. Now that sounds very In-the-Moment, doesn’t it? I’m starting to lean Snake. 

one thing i very clearly remember from childhood is that once, in middle school, i hung out with a group of mostly boys and we were like. the loner weirdo kids. and one guy smacked me across the face for whatever reason and i immediately went “if you do that again, i will kick you directly in the crotch,” and then he went “i like you!” and we were. ig friends? from then on. Guys.. idk 

Guys are known to socialize like that sometimes. 

i didnt really have that much of an opinion on him that i can remember. i thought i was a bird for a while because of the aforementioned “oh learning fun!” thing and my reliance on at least a light plan, but then i thought about what i do under pressure. and i realized that i go fully improv, and that i feel better doing that than planning. 

Yeah, I bet it does. 

because planning also sucks and i dont really like it. ive tried using planners before and its…. so hard to keep up with….. now, my mom is a lion sec and i dont understand her AT ALL. like yeah, i can imitate her and also push through things directly, but my god is it uncomfy. id prefer to poke around and get a handle on things first, so i can have more of a finesse to what i do. 

Oh this is such classic Snake secondary stuff. Right down to the way that Snake Secondaries do not get Lions, and vice-versa. Also, I dunno, from all the examples given, I would not describe you as “not good at interacting with others.” 

i tend to favor seduction and assassination or rogue-ish routes in games, if that helps any. 

It does. (Snake.) 

sometimes my mom will be set on doing things a certain way and will be metaphorically banging her head on a wall, 

like a Lion 

and ill be in the corner desperately just like “mom please let me do this please let me hand you a different way to do this oh my god you are killing me here that isnt going to work”

Yeah, that seems like a pretty clear communication disconnect. 

[dzpenumbra]

7/11/23

Last night was horrible. I got 3 hours of sleep. I just fucking gave up and got up. I was so upset that I started writing a post for a mental health subreddit looking for some kind of advice on how to deal with this upstairs neighbor situation without being "the neighbor banging on the ceiling with a broom".

I didn't post it. I wrote like 10 paragraphs which, to anyone who has ever read this blog, knows that's pretty short for me... I deduced pretty clearly that if these people are waking me up through my box fan, my noise cancelling earbuds and white noise in the earbuds? There really aren't a lot of other options as far as sound reduction goes. That's just... where I'm at. So... the choices I have are...

Avoid the problem: relocate my sleeping spot - this is nearly impossible. My mom insisted I throw out my old mattress (which likely wouldn't fit in the rental car for the move) and she ordered me a Helix mattress which I lugged upstairs in its box. Okay, I mean... technically it would be possible for me to relocate the mattress, I'm not going to lie there... but it would be quite an undertaking and I would have to have my next steps well prepared. Then... what the fuck do I do with the loft space? ... Well... I could move my art studio up there... and I could just sleep in the main room. Use the main room as sorta... a studio apartment... and use the loft as my art workspace. The issue with this? My art space would be way the fuck away from my computer, so streaming art is out of the picture. Then I thought... well, what if I move my computer? My standing desk is way too heavy to bring upstairs. Like.. getting the mattress downstairs would be worlds easier than bringing the desk upstairs, and it would not be easy. Another option would be... basically abandoning the upstairs and just living downstairs. It just all feels a bit extreme.

Adapt: fix my sleep schedule - I don't really think I have a choice but to do this, honestly. Completely rearranging my entire house just because some people don't know how to like... take their shoes off... or walk softly before noon? It feels a bit extreme. But honestly... I feel so fucking stuck with this sleep thing.

So... let's talk about it. When I first moved here, I used to go out and smoke weed at like 4AM, then go right to bed. It would be dark out. I was a bit freaked out at first, but... I did it fine. I was watching those PTSD videos back then, ones on doing visualization of a safe place right before bed, and doing relaxation exercises. And it really did help. It's really the primary reason I made it through that transition as easily as I did.

So... what changed? Why am I scared to go to bed before dawn? Could it really be as simple as... Max died? And now I'm alone in the dark without a nocturnal partner to share the space with me? Could this just be a grief thing?

I guess we'll see. Honestly, I don't even know if it's going to be difficult. I don't even know if going to bed while it's still dark will be scary for me, honestly. It's been so long since I've even tried. There's just an invisible wall there. So... tonight will be a litmus test, we'll see what that wall really looks like.

I'm running on 4 hours of sleep. I stayed up until the maintenance guy came over, he was super friendly, the same dude that fixed my door (when the deadbolt wasn't latching) and did that inspection a few months ago. He was in and out really quick, just took a look at it, said he'd order the new part and try to get over here tomorrow to fix it. Fingers crossed. I'm going to make sure we test run it so he can see if it's wobbling and make sure he keeps that fucker tight as a drum so we don't have this problem again. I'd do it myself but I don't have a 15' ladder on hand and... to be frank... it's not my fucking job. :) Ahhh it's so relieving to finally be able to say that. HOLY SHIT. <heavy sigh of relief> Dude, when you are in isolation, living completely alone for extended periods of time... you start noticing pretty quick that if you want something done... you need to do it yourself. Not because you're the best person for the job, or because someone else might fuck it up, or you're the one who will do it well or you will do it the quickest... rather, if you don't do it... it doesn't get done. And that was fucking super eye-opening in the way I interacted with others... others who were omega-codependent. The ones who would constantly shame and guilt me for asking for help with super simple stuff. They all had people around to give them a helping hand, but they were too proud to ask for it. Pride. The most dangerous of sins, because it is the root of so many other ones, and it can also be connected to virtue in the right light... so it can often fly by undetected. But this... this manifestation is not a nice one. It's people who dedicate huge amounts of energy to hiding their problems, even from themselves, rather than admit that they need help. Those are the ones who I guaranteed would not get a finger lifted from, because - in their logic - "no one helps me..." Well... is it a coincidence that they never ask?

After years and years of being on this proverbial island, doing everything possible myself because I lack the income to hire others and I struggle with a big trauma/anxiety wall trying to make new friends, I'm finally in a position where I have assistance (reliable assistance) available to me. It feels very... secure. I feel cared about. Even though I'm just one of many many many people in this building, I still feel like... if something goes wrong, they will have my back. And that is a very new feeling outside of therapy, where it is contractually obligated. And here, I mean... it's contractually obligated too... but they're still nice people.

So yeah, the dude looked at the fan, he's going to come by either tomorrow or the day after. I did yoga, I ate, I drank a pot of coffee. Then I took an hour nap. I passed right out. And I woke up with this fucked up taste in my mouth. I still don't know what exactly caused it, but I had some really old Neon Sharpies I was drawing with on the string lights I was customizing today and that chemical smell matched the taste pretty close. Maybe I had some on my fingers and they made their way into my mouth in my sleep? I don't know. But yeah, I spend the rest of the evening doing designs on those lights, which is coming out pretty damn cool. And preparing the beads, which came out pretty damn cool. The green ones are definitely pale, but they came out more of a subdued lemon lime yellow-green, which is totally cool by me. They look great, I'm happy with them. I went back and forth on whether I wanted to put symbols on them individually, or decorate them further... but I still wasn't sure about medium, or what symbols... yeah... so I decided to hold off on that and just run this batch and do something more ornate on another batch. I just wanna keep things moving and let my inspiration inspire new pieces rather than alter current ones. I think it's a good plan.

So... I got the first layer of tung oil on the plain beads, the green ones, the blue ones, and two beads painted with Posca opaque paint pens that I was going to do test runs with acrylic sealer on. I want to see how they do with the oil. I'm very curious to see how that turns out. They should be fine, I'm just... I'd prefer to do a test run. And if that works well, that's a big win because that ink does not soak into the wood, so I can do very detailed ornamentation with those. Just using ink, even just archival ink like Micron pens, will soak into the wood and you risk what we used to call in tattooing "blowouts", where the ink just... blows out... it spreads and bleeds unintentionally. These paint pens won't do that, which is super nice.

So yeah, they're soaking up their first coat. I skipped the display table today because I didn't want to sand it. I can coat it any time, it's not a big deal. And I skipped exercise today because I'm running on two days worth of fumes. I didn't want to push myself too far. Next day is the last one on the workout plan, so that's a milestone. I'll search for a new workout and revisit the meal planner tomorrow.

But yeah, now it's 2:30 AM and I'm lined up to go start getting ready for bed. Fingers crossed things go well. This is gonna be like... sleeping somewhere new for the first time, with how long it's been. But I really need to remember... it's not new... it's a return to how things were. And the big sell? If I get to sleep now? There's a smaller time window where those people upstairs will be able to wake me up.

We'll see how things go.

[samwiselastname]

Just finished watching the killing of a sacred deer and-

My knee-jerk response: "I tend to like a subtler oedipal complex narrative than this." but the more I think about it, I'm all for abandonment of subtlety if it's grotesque. I know Lanthimos' whole thing is this glossy, sterile, stilted, alienated dream fever mode. Listen. I need psychedelics here. I want it baroque. I feel like everything in that movie that was meant to disturb or shock me was so surgically pristine that I couldn't even feel it.

There's a degree to which I will put up with heterosexual nonsense if it relates an interesting story, is a fun little cultural artifact, or is a satisfying intellectual challenge. Quite honestly there are a lot of ways I admire Freudian analysis, and most of them have to do with what he leaves unsaid. It's like this movie could not commit to its own subtlety.

I feel compelled to give The Lobster another shot but I also feel like it would fail me. The sterility and glossiness really lays on thick this like, miasma of minimalist affluence. And honestly, I think pointing to his movies as being "about" the ways wealth makes the upperclass inhuman is. A bit of a cross-read in a lot of his films, despite it being very obvious. The Lobster does seem like it's the litmus test for like, whether he's self-aware about his form/function mismatch. (And the first half did not wow me!)

You probably don't want to take me seriously here in terms of judging authorial intent, I did just say I admire Freud and also I am one of the 2% of people on earth who watched Alex Garland's Men and found it worthwhile. And I do not think I will ever get over my, (for lack of a better term) neckbearded compulsion to rag on A24. But for me the key issue with the prototypical elevated horror film *is* the sterility and hypocrisy and the wealth and glitz and palateability. And A24's weird market dominance. I don't care that there's allegory happening, I care that somehow he made the least visceral film I could imagine about this topic.

[the-hem]

From The Perfect Series. 7.0 The Preceptor.

7.0  The Preceptor: Unborn, Free, In His Own Glory. From the Nirvana Upanishad.

The Paramahamsa: I am He. 

The mendicant monks who wear marks of renunciation inwardly. [They are the ascetics entitled to study this Upanishad.]

(They are) the protectors of the field in which I-ness (indicative of the separateness of the Self) is destroyed.

Their settled conclusion is partless like ether.

 (Their heart) is the river of immortal waves.

(Their heart) is imperishable and unconditioned.

(Their preceptor) is the (realized) sage free from doubts.

Eastern scriptures tell us we are God and He is us and this is not true, was never meant to be true. You are you, just the way you were made and how you want to be. 

People get very angry at me for saying so, but you really can do what you want.  No matter what you’re told, you’re going to anyway, so rather than take position for or against anything, I explain the Self. 

Because of Self, the Holy Spirit, we have many opportunities to figure out if our life choices were correct or not. All you have to do is pay attention and the world will communicate its impressions of your behavior quite clearly. Self provides Sentient Solutions to troublesome behaviors should their karmas be insufficient. Renunciation of the root causes of karmas, habits or biases towards certain kinds of thinking and behaving kick starts Sentience. 

Renunciation (v.2) is not renunciation of the outer world or the “fruits of our actions” or desire or the suffering that comes from desire. Renunciation is a conscious decision to give up being a spoiled little baby, grow up and face the world you live in, one that you help make, unmake and participate in. 

Renunciation takes bravery because we are battered by the Forces of Darkness that tell us to hide from being a grown up: Don’t be sexy, don’t be a woman, don’t be a gay fag, don’t wear the clothes you want, don’t be black, don’t be poor, don’t, don’t, don’t...all of these false ideas which readily fail the litmus test of clear perception have to be renounced and comfort with how things really are must become comfortable: 

“Those we call sages, aka adults, settle into a life that is not disturbed by false ideas.” (v. 3.)

Here is one to get you razzled and dazzled: Do you like to watch porn or even make it? I’m not a huge fan of either one, honestly, I’m not, but I think porn stars and porn, in their place, serve an important role in the lives of people that enjoy them. Do you feel a little wiggle in your stomach? That’s because we have demonized pornography...which does not kill.

Bun guns which do kill are still okay, I’m sure you felt not one tinge of anxiety over that, but porn makes us go totally nuts. 

We seem to experience not one bit of Nirvana watching other people (our ourselves) bangin’ it, but our society is completely comfortable with the idea of a gun doing it.

v. 7 and 8 say we have to quell the conditions in our hearts and minds that cause us to get all pissed off and want to climb up to a moral high ground instead of being a little fucking quiet for a minute and sorting things out. 

Freedom from doubt is Stillness. 

 I’d rather the world see me naked with another person (which you won’t) than watch me shoot someone with a gun. I have made these decisions as an adult and they give me quite a lot of confidence with how I live my life. 

Confidence, conscience, freedom from doubt are Nirvana, they are signs our unborn souls, our Preceptors are coming into their own glory. We will keep fanning them to greater levels of brightness as we continue to study the Perfect Series. 

[leam1983]

Chameleon

Something about Sarah changes profoundly, when we get intimate. Something in the way the light catches her eyes, well outside of that particular myopic glint I know we both have.

Walter's interest in intimacy is fairly rooted into lust. We get effusive as Hell, but his spoken constants are telling: calling me delicious between kisses, calling me warm, calling me sweet; whereas Sarah's closer to how I operate. We're both anxious by nature and we constantly second-guess ourselves. It takes some work to get her to remove her defenses, some convincing her of her own innate strengths and worth. She the smartest woman I know, beating out the previous record-holder (my mother) and every bit the Litmus Test type of nerd you hear of pejoratively. However, she doesn't check boxes with me because she wants to define where I sit, but because she's looking to find out where she'll get to deep-dive. As we got closer, intimacy joined this set of topics and eventually allowed us to reach the point where we find ourselves.

It's strange, honestly. Walt genuinely loves my wilting legs, my little belly sag, my efforts to tame my own frame and my sometimes failing to resist certain temptations. He even loves the fact that I'm disabled, seeing as offering me physical support seems to appease some sort of head-of-the-family, patriarchal-not-in-the-negative-sense urge that he has. Walt's a gay guy who's always wanted a family, and Sarah just likes what's between my ears. Everything Walt dotes over, she doesn't care about. Again, I don't mean this negatively.

You know how I don't see race became seen as reductive to inclusivity efforts? I feel that on some level of interpretation, both it and "I don't see disability" also need to be seen as markers of inclusion. Love is a point where sexual orientation, creed, ethics or personal preferences are sort of eclipsed, to the point where you think that this exact person you love is worth basing the entirety of your relationship to them on the parts you see as being positive. That's what I mean when I say that Sarah doesn't see my disability. Acceptance would imply some sort of process, and she just - sidestepped it over a few years, as completely did my cane and my hugging the walls became normal to her.

And so, we talk. Walt would seal my mouth shut with his tongue, break the seal to let me breathe at regular intervals and otherwise moan inside me, hands pressing me close - and Sarah's more the type to keep our liplocks to brief respites between our hugging, chin-to-shoulder even as we're gyrating - and to ask me about whatever it she needs clarification on.

Last night, she had a weird mind-burp and flashed back to her History classes. She remembered the Egyptians' main military and socioeconomic rivals were the Hittites for a long while, but didn't remember much of their own structure, or which pharaoh finally bested them. Then it was back to strategies to use while playing Darktide, release being more of a hiccup for her than one of Walt's explosions of sensory bliss. Her breath halts, turns ragged, she quickly pants a few times even as her legs stiffen against mine - and then she relaxes. The come-down isn't too long, maybe twenty minutes at most, and then she trots either to the bathroom or to mine and Walt's bedroom.

She's slower with him - more exploratory. Walt is slightly more reserved with her than he is with me, letting her control the flow of it all. Raw need being less of a driving factor for these two, there's a sense of profound respect that's been instigated. She's the teacher, he's the pupil.

I'm the talker, between both of us guys. Sarah knows I'm up for bedside banter, and can play along with her need to open up somewhat. Walt's the "roll-over-and-snore" type - or the "cuddle-and-snore" type, in his case.

There's something to loving this woman, and to know she's finally met people she can openly depend on - something that feels unique. When it's the three of us together in bed, lust and love combine into a particularly potent mix. You can expect more effusiveness and a ton of cheerfully irrational comments by all parties involved.

"We'd survive well enough together, just the two of us," Walt once told me, "but Sarah is our bonding agent. You love the parts of her that make us feel youthful and capable, and I love the part of her that combines lover and daughter when I see her, as cringeworthy as it seems. If one of her parents showed up and demanded I give out one of my kidneys, I'd do it without hesitation."

She's getting better at this. Walt stifles a cry, bites at his cufflink on the right - all the while knowing he's seconds away from losing it - and finally goes slack, on a silent exit moan.

"One day," he sighs, "we're renting a cabin out in the woods and screaming ourselves hoarse under the covers."

She laughs and squirms closer. "I'd love that."

[ladyartemesia]

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.