#i still go on there because i am desperate for a content fix sometimes but god

[yea-baiyi]

I’m not on twitter but I see this type of sentiment commonly on here and I have to ask - what are they posting over there that gets people here in such frustration??

mpreg. animal hybrids. omegaverse. really weird and ooc modern aus. the worst most surface level character takes you’ve ever seen in your life.

things i listed above are in descending order of frequency by the way. (why is there so much mpreg on there. why. why are they so obsessed with men getting pregnant. it is inescapable.)

[nicksbestie]

Sub!Nick

(headcanons)

Summary : it's self explanatory <3 bottom/sub nick thoughts

Warnings : nsfw. duh. 16+ content, i am not responsible for the media you choose to consume online. nsfw content under the cut.

Pairing : Nick Sturniolo/Male!Reader (romantic)

A/N : this was cowritten and brainstormed by @nickgetsmewetter !

sub!nick section <3

~ he's loud. if there are other people home, he has to be gagged because he can't keep himself quiet, so he takes advantage of his home alone time

~ he's desperate, and he has no shame in begging for whatever he wants

~ he never has any control of what he's saying, babbling nonsense through intense pleasure

~ he loves being overstimulated and pushed to the edge, and he never says his safeword during the pain of it because he knows the payoff will be worth it

~ he'll be shaking and have tears streaming down his face, being absolutely destroyed, but he'll still nonsensically beg for more

~ he's seen as the dominant one by his fanbase, but behind closed doors he gives up every bit of control

~ he's a little basic when it comes to positions, a sucker for missionary, but will never turn down doggy

~ on the same note, he adores leaving scratches and marks down his partner's back, and admires his work afterwards

~ he loves the hickeys and marks left on his own body afterwards because it gives him a feeling of ownership

~ he loves to cockwarm, it makes him feel close to his partner

~ he adores being choked, the dizziness making all of his pleasure heighten

~ he loves being fucked out, a dopey smile on his face, tiredness in his body

~ while the ache in his body the next morning doesn't feel great, he has a soft spot for the physical reminder of the night before

brat!nick section <3

~ he loves mouthing off to his partner because he knows that he won't be able to speak when they're done with him

~ on that same note, his partner loves to make him try to speak, and nick never can get much out

"c'mon, baby, answer me. that feel good?"

"awww, too fucked out?"

~ he loves when his partner comes home mad, and he'll act out on top of it, so all of that anger gets taken out on him

~ he gets humiliated when his partner degrades him, reminding him of where he belongs

"oh, but you had so much to tell me earlier."

"please."

"begging already? what a slut."

~ he loves the simple shows of dominance outside of the bedroom, but sometimes they just aren't enough to keep him in line

~ his knees go weak when his partner pulls him in and whispers threats in his ear if he doesn't fix his behavior... because he knows they're also promises

~ he often wants to see just how far he can push his dom, knowing that it'll pay off for him in the end

~ sometimes his partner will let him brat out with no punishment, because he knows nick enjoys the punishment more than he should

~ he's not one for full bondage, but his hands being tied and held above his head always reminds him of just how helpless he is

~ he's fucking needy. a lot of his bratty behavior comes from his boyfriend not paying enough attention to him

~ he has no patience, so his partner loves to edge him to remind him that he needs to learn it

~ as much attitude as he has, the second someone teases him about his submission, he is flushing red

~ he loves being broken down and put back into place because it reminds him that someone is there to keep him in line

taglist : @blahbel668 @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0

@sturnioloslife @heartsforkarina @nervousrebelglitter @sturniclo @elliegrace-7 @mattsturnioloisbae @strnilo

@dazsha19 @patscorner @hailee22sstuff @tworosesblackthorn @h3arts4harry @getosuckers @knhxa @scoobydoosnack

@tapesmatts @st7rnioioss @st7rnioiossblog @jamiesturniolo @sofie-1 @muwapsturniolo @graysturns @certifiednatelover

@bitchydragonparadise @haunted-headset-alt @skyslondon @matthewsturniolosgirlfriend101 @alivzstuff

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!!

- i’m also tagging @thenickgirl bc i think she’d enjoy this

[inbarfink]

I still can't understand why GolBetty turned the Lich into Tetris block. Like, she has an immortal powerful being who has no purpose and who asks her to give him that purpose. Why not order him to guard Simon for the rest of Simon's life?

GolBetty could fix his meat suit so that the Lich would not frighten the inhabitants of OOO with his appearance, and everyone would be happy. Simon has a bodyguard to ensure his safety (Happiness for Betty), the Lich has a goal (Happiness for the Lich)

I... okay, I am just going to make a List of all the reasons for why 'Making the Lich into Simon's Bodyguard' is a Bad Plan.

First and foremost, can she order the Lich? As GOLBetty, she cannot actually speak. The only way she could communicate with Simon is through cryptic actions and a video game and a Weird Memory Brain Visit Thing. And it worked, but you have to consider how much of it worked because Simon is, despite all of his flaws, an intelligent and considerate person making an honest attempt to understand what Betty is telling him and is also the person Betty herself understands more than anyone else. Trying to communicate 'hey, your role in life is to protect this man' to a murderous nuclear skeleton you've never spoken to before and only really understands death and destruction might be a Complicated Matter. Especially as the consequences for the Lich misinterpreting GOLBetty's actions could be quite dire. Because, again, for years before the Lich only understood death and destruction.

Second of all... I think you're making quite a big assumption here, thinking she can she repair the suit. GOLB is a being of pure chaos and entropy, most of their powers are based around mutating and twisting and corrupting the things around them (sometimes turning them into Tetris blocks, sometimes into monsters). Could she restore something into a previous pristine state? Not that would be a good idea either, because the Lich's Meat Suit is Billy's body. So if Billy starts running around Ooo again like 10 years after he died, people might start asking questions. A better idea would be to make a new Meat Suit, which... again, considering GOLB's powerset and aesthetic would still look pretty Freaky probably. But considering Ooo is... Ooo, he could at least pass as an Unrelated Weird Spooky Monster Man. But still, like, there's still always the risk someone might recognize his voice or his powerset and realize this guy is Bad News.

And the thing is... yes, the Lich is Bad News! Sure, at that point he was utterly depressed and sure his original 'purpose' was meaningless and desperate for GOLB to give him a new goal for existence but, like... he is also an immensely powerful being that most Heroes in Ooo still struggle to defeat and before his Existential Crisis clearly took a lot of pleasure in the idea of destruction. Like, there was a reason why he decided to interpret GOLB's chaos and entropy as Omnicide. That part wasn't just following GOLB's orders, that what at least partly about the Lich's own desires at the time. So sure, maybe if his God told him 'yeah, sure your new job is to take care of this boring ol' nerd' - maybe the the Lich would be satisfied with this idea for a while. But... what happens past that initial contentment? What if the Lich doesn't find babysitting a 50 year old academic with clinical depression a 'satisfying purpose' either? What if being returned to an Ooo abundant with life and creation starts firing up his urge for destruction all over again? What if he does some soul-searching and realizes he can find a purpose himself outside of the shitty boring task GOLB has inexplicably given him, and that goal might not include annihilating all life in the universe, but is still pretty Evil on it's own? Letting any incarnation of the Lich run free and unharmed and close to Simon would be a huge risk that could backfire at any moment if his faith and fervor for GOLB falters even slightly. Quite honestly, I can't see Betty take that risk.

Also, like, Simon doesn't really need a bodyguard?? I mean, he did for this Adventure maybe - but this is clearly, like, Not a Regular Occurrence for Simon. In his Actual Everyday Life right now, he is generally perfectly safe, living a peaceful-if-wacky-life like any other Oooian civilian. Even when he goes on that ill-fated adventure with Finn that traumatized the shit out of him, he was terrified, but he was hardly ever in real danger with Finn around. The Multiverse Adventure was only as dangerous for him as it was because it was a rare time where most of Ooo's greatest current heroes are not easily available to help him on speed-dial (and they're a lot less likely to suddenly commit omnicide because they overcame their own depression!). The Lich wouldn't even be hypothetically useful on this Adventure. The Scarab was hard even for GOLBetty herself to defeat, and the Lich probably wouldn't get teleported with Simon to Prismo's Time Room. Most of the problems Simon actually faces in his present-day life would only be exacerbated by the presence of a bodyguard of any kind, and especially a bodyguard who is also the Lich. Like, he already experiences a serious lack of privacy from his current Living Museum Exhibition Job - does he need a Spooky Scary Skeleton who follows him around and overzealously watches his every move? And Simon already feels kinda isolated from the people around him - and making and keeping friends would only be more difficult with a creepy vaguely-homicidal dude following you around to 'protect' you. Especially if Simon can't explain to others where he came from, and especially if he needs to hide the fact this is an incarnation of the Lich (and especially from Finn, basically the Lich's arch-enemy at this point and also Simon's dear friend). And... like, Simon needs to find a way to rediscover his old adventurous spirit in his own terms and in a way that makes him feel safe, and that wouldn't be easy when the one thing keeping the Goddam Lich in check is the honest believe that 'keeping Simon Petrikov safe' is like his divinely ordained goal.

And this kinda follows from my previous point, but it was so important I felt that it deserves to be it's own bullet point. What Simon needs more than anything is to move on from Betty. And Betty knows it, that was the whole point of... basically the whole Simon half of the finale. And moving on from Betty is already hard for Simon with all the love he still feels for her and all that she has done for him - and it's only going to be even harder if she gives him his own Apocalypse Skeleton Bodyguard to follow him around for the rest of his life. What she wants for him now is not just to be 'safe', but to be happy - and getting a Bodyguard Lich will not make Simon happy!

And finally, like, moving on for a second to the Lich's perspective. Even if we do assume that the Lich can find happiness and satisfaction in following Simon Petrikov around. Simon's not getting any younger. It's a huge part of the conflict of 'Fionna and Cake' that he is a mortal man - so what happens to the Lich when he croaks? Yet another total crisis of purpose? Another spiral of depression? And again, I do want to emphasize that the Lich is still an incredibly powerful creature capable of extreme sadism and cruelty and we really can't predict how that crisis of faith will manifest itself. A lot of people worry about what will happen to their loved ones when they're gone, but Simon Petrikov doesn't need to lay awake at night thinking about his Skeleton Buddy going Literally Nuclear as a result of his death and putting all of his other friends in mortal danger.

That's just what I can think of for now, just off the top of my head. Quite honestly, there's probably even more reasons why it would be a very very very bad idea to let the Evil Death Skeleton hang out with Simon Petrikov in one of the biggest civilian population centers in Ooo.

[meowzfordayz]

when the war is over; will our ghosts dance together, or will we ourselves dance hand in hand

Tomioka Giyuu x Reader

Word Count: ~700

CW: canonical violence, death content, depression, implied self harm, PTSD, traumatic references

Emergency Request Fulfilled: I am, I’m just feeling tired my work is so draining emotionally, mentally, physically and I know I’m burnt out because I’m just apathetic. (...) I want someone to take care of me; like I took care of the people I used to know. I feel like I’m spent and I have nothing left to give. It’s so hard for me to make friends again because I don’t even know what to say. I don’t know how to carry on a conversation anymore, if it’s because I’m scared or what or if I’m tired and I know things are going to end soon. (...) I want to let out the frustrations on me instead of someone else… I’d rather be hurt instead.

I hope this makes sense..? I am feeling like this again and I’m just tired ya know. You can pair it with any character you like, it’s all free reign for you. A comfort angst I suppose.

He knows how you feel

Recognizes the glimmer of defeat

In your soft gaze, so intent on pressing into his chest

Defeat has an odd shine to it

A sense of finality, of strength, at the end of a

Sea of doubt, longing, emptiness accepted in place of

Warmth

Sometimes, he wishes he could ask you

“How are you feeling?”

Oftentimes, he’s afraid your reply will be

“Fine. And you?”

How is he supposed to answer such deflected pain?

How can he reveal his own lonesome while trying to fill yours?

Perhaps this is why they say

You must love yourself before loving

Others

You must look out for yourself before looking out to

The One

Recovery is a fickle creature

As numbing as it is freeing

As quiet as it is difficult to ignore

Screaming in one’s head day in, day out

Etched into one’s skin, the drag of a blade

The shiver of a downpour

Puddles of blood seeping into moistened ground

Why does rain so frequently shed itself on the battlefield?

But he can tell

The lingering taste of war, of death

Is not your sole accompaniment

You are similar, but not the same

Walking a pace a step faster than his, sunken in a different weight of anxiety

Of dread

As he is

He wants, craves, a connection with you

Fixing, helping, someone else

But how?

And what?

And why?

He’s never thought of himself as a savior

A victim, more like it

And is it truly so grand, so honorable, of him

To desire a caress with heroism for the sake of healing

Of selfishness

And not necessarily out of curiosity, compassion, for your haunted tremors

He still remembers the one time you came to him

Well, really, he was the only soul around

“Tomioka-san. How do you tolerate it?”

And he had frowned, unable to meet your shaken stare, blue eyes glazed from an evening of ash and maroon, sunrise an unwilling accomplice in fulfilling his duties

“I don’t,” he’d deadpanned, turning from your telltale scars, so similar

So different

From his

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He wonders, too

Of course he does

Wonders what he would do if he ever caught you

Caught you in your act of hatred and denial

Physical rendition of the song that’s been on repeat in his head

Wonders if the lyrics are identical

Underlining his every thought, just as they overline your wrists

He likes to imagine he would comfort you

Would be able to tug you into his arm, cool and solid, unfaltering and steady

But he thinks, in fact, that he’d be angry

Upset

Disappointed

Arm crossed, tight, unwelcoming, as his demons fraternize with yours

Lips pursed in desperation

Come here, I promise I won’t hurt you

Stuck beneath loathing

“Do you miss them?” you murmur, village sprawling out below the damp, thatched roof

Stars twinkling, teasing, dancing among the slivers of cloud above

“I do,” Giyuu confesses, inhibitions low, fingers cold with grief, “I’m grateful for this new world, but I fear my existence ceased along with the old one.”

“Tomioka-san,” you smile faintly, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“We barely know each other,” he mutters

“And are we to blame?” you chuckle, the sound brittle and forced, “It’s always been safer for us.”

To not get attached

“I wish I knew how to live.”

Me too you almost admit, head drooping with fatigue, elbows propped on your knees, legs hugged to your sternum

“I wish I knew how to live for myself,” he clarifies Everyone that mattered is gone

Sleep claims your response, limbs gradually relaxing, the rough fabric of his haori tucked around your shoulders before he leaves

“How about this…”

You glance at him, hesitant

Hopeful

“I’ll care for you. You’ll care for me.”

“You don’t already?” you tease gently, giggling when his eyes widen with alarm

“I-”

“I’m teasing, Tomioka-san,” you quickly assure him, “I appreciate your company.”

“I would like to walk beside you.”

He is shy

Sweet

A realization that

This is what could have been

“Okay,” you nod slowly, “But my pace isn’t consistent.”

“That’s alright,” he shrugs, “As long as we keep walking.”

[cpcwiki]

⚠ WIKI AD INCOMING ⚠

Hi, everyone! @mechanical-clown here on a new blog! That's right, it's the Real Official CPC Wiki Social Media Account here!! B) Unfortunately I do not have good news to deliver

It's been a hot minute since my last ad and I do want you all to know I'm still sorry for doing this. Unfortunately, again, how bad I feel making another ad is outweighed by how much the wiki needs more help. I've been feeling especially desperate lately because of the fact that CPC is ending soon, and there are many tasks that will be made harder if it's put on daily pass. So, in my cry for effort to get help, here's an explanation of what I believe is our biggest issue and a rundown of things that currently need to be done! Again I am sorry. This could take a while

If you were fortunate enough to not have seen this post last time, the Cursed Princess (Club) Wiki needs help if it wants to be complete any time soon. Kind of a lot of it. As we all know, cpcblr's very active and prolific in content and the wiki's typically... not. To seriously get into this, the only three active editors in the past month or two have been me, @the-neighbors-kid (aka cursed-princess-club), and Ama (not sure if she wants to be tagged but we all know her!). Shoutout to you two because you are actually the best thank you I love you /pl <3

Anyways, there are already a lot of things we need to do to fix up the wiki. Thankfully, accessing any episode for any information you'd like is easy! And it will continue to be that easy after CPC ends, because Webtoon doesn't feel the need to limit how many episodes a person can view, right? Right? ...Yeah, so, uh, daily pass exists.

As of the time I'm writing this, there are ~10 episodes left in CPC (forgot the exact number lol). Assuming there are no hiatuses, that's only 10 more weeks, or 2 and a half months - and that's pretty soon! While there is a chance that CPC might not have daily pass after it ends, it's a small one. And, to me, that sounds like a huge problem!! If CPC is put on daily pass, accessing episodes will become much more difficult. Looking for a certain character's appearances, adding images, even just finding a single reference - it'll take a day to unlock the needed episode, and that episode will be gone in 2 weeks. The best solution to this problem would probably be to just use physical copies of CPC to find things, but those aren't available to everyone.

And adding images with daily pass episodes? As a reminder, screenshotting while viewing an episode on daily pass is taken as a sign of piracy. Screenshotting, the way we get images for the wiki. I've tried poring through Webtoon's terms of use to find some answer about whether publicly posting such screenshotted images would be illegal, but there's no mention of daily pass, and the text is so dense it's hard for me to tell. (I want to say I'll take a second look at it sometime, but that's probably just going to go into my list of permanently-unfinished priorities. I doubt the physical copies would be a good alternative to screenshots, either.) Regardless, I don't want to take any chances with the law, or see however Webtoon would punish us on the chance they find our frightening screenshots. Thus, another top priority of mine is to add more images and complete more galleries before CPC ends.

Oh, yeah, and that's barely even scratching the surface! Here's more stuff we need to do, presented in an appealing (classic Mocha iykyk) bulleted list:

A major thing is filling in episode pages. Episodes 40-around 110 are basically blank - no synopsis, character list, summary, or extra information. This is the task that would likely be least burdened by the addition of daily pass, but in my opinion, it's still of the absolute highest priority.

Galleries, which display images of characters, locations, or episodes. While not generally that important, I do think it'd be a good idea to fill out mostly empty ones now - you know, since taking screenshots of CPC may become illegal in the future! Most characters have a good amount of images on their pages, thankfully (the pastel sisters have so many they were the first to get separate gallery pages); some, including Jack and Leland, have very few. Episode pages and locations often have way less, though those aren’t as important

Relationship sections for a number of characters. These involve write about characters’ relationships, though in a way that mainly describes their interactions throughout the episodes without expressing any specific opinions. Some major sections that need to be written/updated include Jamie and Leopold; Jolie and Nell; Leland and really everyone on his page but especially Jack; Jack and Lilyth; Suzanna and Lance/Lorena; the Plaid Princes with each other; and more! Many more!

History sections for a number of characters. In a similar vein to relationship sections, these just detail a character’s appearances in the story, as well as their past or other mentions of them. Examples of (mostly - Isolde's isn't fully updated yet) completed history sections include Whitney’s, Isolde’s, and Monika’s! Examples of incomplete sections include virtually everyone else’s.

You might be wondering why I, a wiki admin (in case I haven't said it enough) am not doing any of these things! That’s because I'm neglectful and pretty bad at my job. I will not sugarcoat that part anymore. As much as I love the wiki (it's where I met my best friend after all, and while I'm writing this they just went offline so he can get fucked /j) I don't have motivation to work on it very often. Really, I don't have motivation to work on much nowadays! Ama's been doing the virtually thankless job of keeping the wiki up for the past couple months, and I've been mostly absent. The wiki is only remotely as active as cpcblr because of her. I feel terrible about it, but I'd rather be writing this 9-paragraph cry for help than editing, so, uh... yeah this is a public apology to Ama. I am so sorry. I know this isn't very professional but I'm incapable of being professional about the wiki tbh

TL;DR: As CPC is ending soon, the impending threat of daily pass could take away the ability to look at episodes whenever you want, which would make wiki editing much harder. We seriously need editors to join us in finishing the wiki. Please at least consider helping us!! Any way you can is appreciated - even if you can only make very few edits, I'll be immensely grateful for your support :)

If you have any questions about anything wiki-related, contact me!! My Discord's at musicitself, and you can also always DM me on here! And here's an invite to our wiki Discord server, too!! Of course, you don't have to become a wiki editor to join, but (as was the point of this entire post) I would really really REALLY love if you did. Thank you so much for reading this long, and have a great day!

[nebulablakemurphy]

Through Love And By Love (Pt. 14)

Summary: Twenty-Two years ago, Draco Malfoy used the imperius curse to slow Voldemort’s rise to power. No good deed goes unpunished. Warning: this series contains mature subject matter surrounding use of the imperius curse, discussions of trauma and mental illness; reader discretion advised.

18+ ONLY this chapter contains sexual content.

Part 13

"What are you doing?" Albus wrestles the time turner from Scorpius, as the train chugs beneath them.

"It's obvious isn't it? We've got to go back." The Malfoy boy explains.

"No, absolutely not, Scorpius! Bad idea. Time turners are illegal, you don't meddle with time. Delphi must have stolen this." Rose scolds him, in a tone so like her mother.

"Because she cares about my mum, and she wants my father’s name cleared." Scorpius points out.

"They’re already working on clearing it." Rose insists. "My mum told me."

"Hermione is lying!" Scorpius cuts her off. "Everyone is lying! This won't get better and if I don't do something soon, it's going to get worse... If I don't do something soon, I’m going to lose my dad."

"I'm in." Albus says, softly.

"Albus, no!" Rose argues, it's too risky.

"He’s worth saving." Albus pleads his case.

"That wasn't in question, only the method by which you plan to save him." Rose busies herself, tugging at a loose string on her jumper.

“All we need to do is go back to the night he cast the imperius curse and make sure he doesn't." Scorpius shrugs, can't be that hard.

"And how exactly are you going to stop him?" She arches a fiery brow.

"I haven't figured that part out just yet."

"I should remind you, Scorp, your dad was much more..." Albus searches for the words, "intense back then."

————————————————————————

“Finally got Corina down,” Rosanna huffs, flopping onto the couch, beside her husband. The little girl didn’t want to nap, but she was overtired and cranky as ever.

Draco looks up from Rosanna’s notes, everything she’s prepared to submit for his trail. "The sacrifices made by Draco Malfoy, in a desperate attempt to keep Voldemort from rising to power, do not make him a criminal. They make him a hero. Or at the very least, a prisoner of war."

Rosanna moves to take the papers from him.

“You paint a pretty picture of me, love.” Draco admits, handing over the parchment.

“That’s how I see you.”

“You don’t need to lie.”

“It’s not a lie.”

“Tell me the truth of it and I will love you still.”

“Draco, this is the truth!”

“We both know how this ends. I need you to promise me that you’ll try to move forward, once I’m gone. I need you to promise that you won’t spend the rest of your life pining over me. Promise me, Rosanna.” Draco pleads, holding her gaze.

“I can’t promise that, you’re the only person that I-” she breaks off to collect her thoughts. “Sometimes it’s like the whole world is spinning and no one can feel it but me. Everything is rushing around me and I’m always running, struggling to keep up. But you make me feel like I can stand in one place without getting dizzy. You hold me still.”

“Rosanna,” he shakes his head.

“I hate the things that happened to you because of me. Everything you have to answer for is because of me. Because I asked you to, because I thought I was doing the right thing. You have every right to be angry about it. You have every right to hate me.” It’s only fair. “I hate myself.”

Draco draws in a ragged breath. “Don’t say that.” He grinds out, between gritted teeth, as if it were the worst, most heinous, thing he’s ever heard.

“You asked me to tell the truth.” Rosanna fires back, “that is the truth, I hate myself.”

“Please, don’t say that.” His voice is softer now, taking her face in his hands. “I wanted to make you happy, I tried. I-”

Rosanna rests her hands over his. “You gave me an incredible life, with so much happiness and I am so grateful.”

“Then how can you say that?”

“I ruined your life. I put a target on your back, I set you up to be hunted down and prosecuted. I tried to fix it, to set the record straight. I’ve been screaming, at the top of my lungs, for twenty years and no one can hear me.”

“I hear you,” Draco assures her. “I do.”

“If you get sentenced to Azkaban because of something I asked you to do, I won’t be able to live with that.” Rosanna confesses.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Draco sighs.

“If I don’t have you-”

“You have me. You will always have me. You are a part of me. To my bones, I am yours. No time, nor space between us will change that.” Where you go, I go.

Rosanna chokes back a sob, leaning in and pressing her lips to his.

“I hear you,” he says, against her mouth; damp with her tears and his own.

Her hands bury themselves in his hair. “I need you.”

“I am yours and you are mine.” Draco breathes, it was written in the stars before they were born.

Rosanna begins tugging at his clothes, trying to get closer to him. It’s not until they are bare, with his face buried dutifully between her thighs, that she settles. His tongue on her clit is nothing more than a temporary gentling, making her tremble and keen beneath him.

Draco drinks her in, possessive and greedy. Driving her to release, driving her to madness; legs clamped tightly to his ears. And when she cums, draped over the front of their sitting room couch, he can wait no longer. Repositioning her to lie across the cushions. Making her comfortable, keeping her safe.

“Please,” she whimpers. Because it’s not good enough, she needs him inside, so she won’t be alone. For once in her life she doesn’t care about what is right, she doesn’t want to be courageous or brave…or even free. She wants to be selfish and to get what she wants. “I want to be yours.” To be cherished, to be heard, to be loved.

To be loved is to be changed.

“You’re mine.” He is home. He is loved.

The thought comes again, unbidden. Clawing its way out from deep in her belly. “I hate myself.”

“I love you.” I hate myself.

“I love you.”

————————————————————————

"I can’t believe-" Scorpius breaks off, taking it all in. The train car has vanished, they are standing just outside of Hogwarts; forbidden forest howling behind them. It's after nightfall and the castle lights appear exceptionally beautiful, more so than any of them remember. "Did that really just work?"

"I'd say yes," Rose takes a step forward, on shaky legs. "But we need to figure out exactly where we are."

"You mean, when we are." Albus quips, only to be glared at by his cousin.

"By the looks of the Beauxbatons carriage, I'd say we're somewhere around the time of the triwizard tournament." Rose reasons.

"Alright then, let’s get to it." Scorpius nods.

"Wait," Rose stops him, listening closely for a moment. "We'll need some dress robes."

"For what?" Albus asks.

"I think we're going to the Yule Ball."

"Great," Al remarks, shrugging a shoulder. "We're not supposed to be seen, that makes perfect sense."

"We can be seen, so long as we're not recognized." Rose says, tugging the wand from her denims. "Who's going first?"

“Age before beauty,” Albus suggests, pointing his wand at her.

“Honestly?” Rose rolls her eyes, she’s been charmed into a fitted, powder blue, gown.

“Now you look just like a Beauxbaton’s girl.”

Rose configures his own outfit into the deep red Durmstrang robes, in retaliation.

“Oi!”

“As for you.” Rose flicks her wand again, this time at Scorpius. A pristine black dress suit.

“You know,” Albus cocks his head to the side, “now he might get mistaken for his father.”

“That might work to our benefit.” Rose decides, tucking away her wand and twisting her fiery curls into a makeshift updo.

Once they’re through the castle doors, they split up. Scorpius heads over to the refreshment table. If there’s one thing he knows about his mother, it’s that she fancies sweets. He’ll just wait her out.

He uses the ladle to pour a bit of punch into his cup. Something slams hard into his back, sending red liquid down the front of his dress robes. “Oof.” He grunts, turning around to find himself face to face with Rosanna McVay.

This girl has never known loss, or pain. She is innocent, with a thousand stars in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she covers her mouth, with one hand. “I thought you were someone else.”

“It’s fine,” is all Scorpius can manage. It’s physically painful to look at her, yet he can’t bring himself to turn away.

“Here, let me help you.” She grabs some napkins from the table, attempting to sop up the mess from his robes.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll manage.” Scorpius stills her hands.

“Are you sure? I feel terrible.”

“Really, it’s fine.”

“Rosanna,” a new voice, his father’s voice, moving closer.

“I should go.”

Scorpius catches her wrist. Maybe he can undo this; maybe he can save this girl, save both of them. “Do you love him?” Tell me it was worth it. Tell me what to do.

“He’s not like everyone says.” Rosanna tells him.

Time turns again, only now without warning.

————————————————————————

Rosanna hears her muggle phone vibrating, on the side table. She makes no move to grab it, smoothing a hand over Draco’s hair. The pair of them are still crammed up on the couch; his head resting against her chest. He looks so peaceful, breath labored as he sleeps. His weight on her is welcome, tethering her to the earth. Holding her still.

After a moment, the vibrating stops. Only to start again.

Rosanna curses, under her breath. Accio phone.

The caller I.D. reads ‘Hermione,’ buzzing to life again.

“Hermione?” Rosanna answers, on the first ring.

“Where are you?” Hermione asks.

“I’m home,” Rosanna tells her, “why?”

“I just received word,” she breaks off, “Ro, I don’t know how this happened.”

“What happened?”

“Rose, Scorpius and Albus…they never made it to Hogwarts.”

“How is that possible?” Rosanna shakes her husband awake, softly.

“They vanished from the train- I- I’m down at the ministry with Ron and Harry. Can you come?”

“We’re on our way.”

————————————————————————-

"What happened?" Scorpius asks. The trio is back where they started, present day. "Did one of you turn it?"

"No." Rose shakes her head, still in her gown.

"Something must be wrong with the time turner." Albus frowns.

"Well if it's dodgy, we probably shouldn't be using it." Rose concludes, turning up her nose. "I have a feeling she tampered with it."

"Who?" Scorpius demands, impatiently.

"You know very well who! The same person who stole it from the ministry." Rose tells him.

"Come off it, Rose." Scorpius scowls, "Delphi is only trying to help."

"She said all you had to do is turn it, therefore she must have already charmed it to where she wanted it to go." Rose takes a step closer, jabbing a finger into Scorpius' chest.

"That's barmy." Scorpius protests, cupping his hand over hers.

"Either way," Albus scratches the back of this neck uncomfortably, he hates when they fight. "I don't think we should play around with this. It's dangerous and we could wind up stuck wherever we land."

"I have to finish this." Scorpius shakes his head. Preparing to turn time, alone.

"Scorp, please," Albus reaches a hand out to stop him. "Your dad wouldn't want you to do this. If anything ever happened to you-"

"I know, I'll be careful...I just need to fix this." Scorpius insists.

————————————————————————

“Any news?” Draco asks, as they enter Harry’s office. Ginny, Harry, Ron and Hermione are waiting for them there.

“Still nothing.” Harry shakes his head.

“Damn it,” Draco breathes.

“Did you get word to the girls?” Hermione moves toward Rosanna, reaching for her arm.

Rosanna nods, taking her hand. “Leo and Arlo are on the way to my parent’s house. Lucius and Narcissa have Corina. Polaris and Vega left Hogwarts via portrait with James, they’re at the burrow. Hugo and Lily?”

“At the burrow,” Ron assures her.

“Assuming that our families are being targeted, that’s five of the children in one place.” Draco points out. “We need to move Vega and Polaris.”

“We’ll send reinforcements to the burrow,” Harry offers, instead.

“Very well,” Draco nods, mouth set in a firm line. “There are protective wards in place, I set them years ago. Have whoever you send set up a few more.”

“Thank you.” Ginny replies, turning away to make arrangements.

“You set protective wards around my parent’s house?” Ron had no idea.

“And yours,” Draco says, without hesitation, “Potter’s, Granger’s parents, the list goes on.”

“Well-” Ron stammers. “You didn’t need to do all that, Malfoy. We could’ve managed.”

“A simple thank you will suffice, Weaselbee. No need to blow a gasket.”

After all these years, Harry is surprised that Ron doesn’t understand. Draco is a simple being, he serves one purpose. Protect Rosanna and that which she loves. “Malfoy,” Harry cuts in, “I hate to ask, but your mark…do you feel anything?”

Draco’s dark mark is a subject strictly off limits.

Rosanna curls her fingers over the inside of her husband’s left forearm, protectively.

They tried to remove it, twice. The first time, Draco hacked up his arm himself. Mangled and bleeding over the washroom vanity. He sobbed for hours, even after Rosanna found him, healing him with magic, pressing kisses against his skin. He still has the scars.

The second time, Rosanna attempted to pull the dark magic from the mark itself. It was excruciating, as if the mark had twined itself with his soul.

“Not a thing, Potter.” Draco scoffs, “how’s the scar?”

Harry reels back, as though the question is somehow out of line. “Brilliant.”

They’re both lying.

————————————————————————

"Where are we?" Albus asks, scanning their surroundings. Time travel is severely disorienting.

"Looks like my parent's room." Scorpius whispers.

The trio scampers into the closet, away from view. As footsteps from the hallway draw near.

Rosanna steps in, sporting a lavender maternity dress. Her belly prominent enough to be seen through the material.

Flopping onto the bed, she runs her hands over the growing child, fondly.

The washroom door opens and Scorpius can see his father emerge, through the tiny crack in the wardrobe doors.

Rosanna rolls her head to the side. "Did you have a chance to look at names today?"

"Not yet, love." Draco sighs, turning toward his chest of drawers.

Rosanna's playful tone is gone. "You wanted another girl."

"He's yours, Rosanna, I'll love him."

Scorpius' heart sinks. His father didn't want him. His father who held him up on his shoulders, when Scorpius wasn't tall enough to see. His father who wrote him everyday, while he was away at school. His father who loves him…only because he is Rosanna’s son.

Albus' hand finds his, giving a reassuring squeeze. He knows what it's like to feel unwanted, in a way that Rose never would.

"What the hell does that mean?" Rosanna demands, the angry vein pulsing in her neck.

"I'll be a rubbish father to a son." Draco murmurs, under his breath.

Oh, Scorpius sighs. No, you'll be brilliant. You'll be the best father anyone could have.

"He'll grow to resent me and I'll fail him. I'll fail you." The platinum haired man sits at the edge of their bed.

Rosanna reaches toward him, resting a hand on his lower back. "Draco, no you won't."

Time whirls around without them, again, without warning.

"There's got to be a way we can get this stupid thing to work." Scorpius says, through gritted teeth.

"Let me see." Rose takes the turner, holding it away from her body. "Finite Incantatem." If something was controlling the time turner, it's not anymore. "Give it one last go."

They wind up on the return train to Hogwarts, days before the death eaters are scheduled to appear through the vanishing cabinet.

"Brilliant work, Rose." Scorpius breathes as they scamper into an empty train car, to devise a plan.

Part 15

[deceasedream69]

Kidnapped

- "now, you were taking you're time".

My vision was blurry, my mouth was dry. I tried to move but I couldn't, besides the fact that I could feel the ropes around my body, everything hurted, specially my neck.

She was smoking her cigarette right in front of me, her legs crossed, some desperation on her face.

- "now we wait", she said sinking further into her chair.

- "wait...?", My voice was raspy.

- "mhm", she said checking her watch.

After a while of silence I finally got the guts to keep asking. And because I was getting bored.

- "waiting for what?"

Her eyes constantly on her watch.

- "now, my darling, if I tell you it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?"

She checked her watch one last time and stood up.

Being tied was really stressing. I tried to appeared chill and calm but my mind was whispering the most vile things she could be capable of doing to me in this position.

That's why I avoided her eye contact. But she noticed, and grabbing my face she forced me to look into her eyes.

- "why is your boyfriend taking so long?",she stared at me for a bit. "Now I kinda see why he likes you", She let go of my face. "I still got other important deals to make with other people", she said going back to check her watch.

- "deals...? Am I a deal between you and Five"

- "well, he doesn't exactly knows but... Yeah, you could say that"

- "oh, I know", said a voice, but no one was on the room with us.

The handler laughed.

- "haha, things are getting spicy", she said getting behind me. "Now, cute little five", she said approaching a needle to my neck.

The fear grew even bigger in me.

- "let's get down to business, don't you think?"

- "I don't really agree with this one, if I'm being honest", five appeared in front of us, fixing his tie.

- "I don't care if you agree, I only need a yes, or a no", she said getting the needle even closer to my skin.

- "what do you want this time?"

- "just a little job done. Just a little fish out of business"

- "that's all?"

- "mhm, very easy right?"

- "ok, I'm in. Now let y/n go"

- "uh, uh, uh. She's going to stay here with me until you", she said putting the needle in my neck but without pushing the liquid, then started to walk towards Five. A short scream left my mouth in surprise. "My beloved Five", she said grabbing his face. "Have your part done"

Five appeared behind me and took the needle out, pouring the content on the floor.

- "that was not the deal, Five", said the handler taking her gun out.

- "go on, shoot me"

- "oh, my plan never involves hurting you, not physically anyway", her gun pointed to me. Five teleporting in front of me.

- "five, stop", I say trying to break free.

My powers only consisted in mind reading, nothing very helpful right now.

But then I remember a few words Reginald said to me.

_

- "yeah... Reading minds. Very helpful sometimes, but have you ever tried... You know, changing people's thoughts?"

- "how would I even do that?"

- "everything requires you to focus, and have in mind what your intentions are"

_

I closed my eyes, entering the handler's mind, it was pretty messy and gruesome, honestly. Like a dark attic.

All of her experiences there, some very bright and others very... Dark, like she was planning on forgetting them. But I wouldn't allow that, so I started to pull them until they started to glow brighter and brighter, Wich meant that they were becoming main memories.

I opened my eyes and the handler dropped her gun, her hand on her head. Five quickly saw his opportunity and kicked her right on the face, her falling unconscious.

- "it's ok", he said untying me.

- "hurry up", I said watching as the handler was moving slightly.

- "I'm trying my best, ok? I could let you here if I wanted to"

- "but you don't want to, and you'll never want that for me", I said looking directly at him.

He didn't say anything, just smirked and continued to untie me.

I stood up but after being there for so long I wasn't ready for my legs to be so weak. Luckily five caught me quick.

- "I'm sorry", I said standing up by myself.

- "take your time", he said not taking his hands off me.

- "ok, Five, we gotta go", I said watching the handler stand up.

The handler took her gun and stood up, but I quickly pushed the gun up, making a bullet scape, making a whole on the ceiling.

I put my hand on the handler's head and started to bring back all her bad memories. My eyes glowing while doing so.

She fell to the ground, her expression shocked and her eyes also glowing.

- "that's ok, y/n", said Five touching my shoulder.

But I didn't stop, I made the handler watched all the things she's been through, all the bad ones.

- "y/n", said Five desperate.

Then we were in a new location and the handler wasn't in front of me anymore.

- "I was having fun"

- "we don't have time for this", he said touching his stomach.

- "are you okay?"

- "mhm, now let's go", but he fell to the ground.

- "Five!", I put his head on my lap. "What's wrong?", I saw the blood on his uniform.

I pulled his vest and shirt up, and he was shot.

- "when did this happen?!"

- "a few days ago, I was taking good care of it", he said weakly.

- "well, obviously not if you're still bleeding. Five, what the hell were you thinking?!", I said putting pressure on the wound.

- "there are more things to worry about right now"

- "yeah, and you're not going to be here to worry about them if you keep treating yourself like that... Like this", I said looking at the blood.

- "I'm fine..."

- "Five?! Five!!! Hey!", I shake his body but he wasn't responding. "No!"

With all my strength I carried him all the way to Elliot's house.

- "help!", I shouted as soon as I entered the house.

Everyone came to watch the scene and help me. They took five to fix him while I went to take a shower to get all his blood off of me.

I was so angry... I never had the chance to confess my feeling to... And now... What if I loose my chance...

I lay down and started to try and fall asleep, but I couldn't.

- "you're still worried about me?", I turned around.

- "you feeling better?"

He nodded while he walked towards me, sitting on my bed.

- "thank you, y/n. I put a lot of pressure on myself because... With all the apocalypse coming and the handler and the strange brothers following us... I... I don't want to take a break and then something bad happens because I wasn't there"

- "you almost wasn't... Stop doing that to yourself, we're all here. I'm here", i said putting my hand on top of his.

Surprisingly, he didn't moved... Wich I expected him to do, move his hand and leave me looking like an idiot. But he didn't.

I looked at him, and kissed him. And he didn't move away this time either.

- "I needed to get my feelings out in case you put yourself in danger again", I smiled.

- "then I'm very glad you did", he said kissing me again.

[dreamii-krybaby]

Oh god my silly goofy brain can’t stop but hi again! Its been a long time I wanted to post this somewhere so why not here?

Thoughts on the show Murder Drones:

Heads up: I personally suck when it comes to expressing thoughts or ideas,so sorry in advance if I all of this is a mess or gives a wrong idea,all of this are just my thoughts and opinions,if you disagree with them thats ok! Just be respectful

So as for now I have watched and seen every single official content of MDs and boi its a blast of a series! I originally knew Glitch Productions from Meta Runner! Anyways

I love the series,but like with everything,it has its problems

The humor in the show was a bit too “on the nose” for me in the pilot,but the jokes have grown in me,and EP2 nails it with my humor taste!

As for the animation? Stunning but it does bother me a little but that is has a lot of problems with clipping,especially the pilot but EP2 doesn’t seem to have as many as the pilot. The clothing of the characters sometimes look…wonky? I guess thats how I would describe it?

And as for the writing? I feel like it has a lot of potential but it seems like thats cut short due to the fact that the series is going to be short (being around 8 episodes according to the fan wiki) and also with the amount of minutes episodes have (I wouldn’t mind having to wait longer for 40 mins episodes of MDs) so some concepts seem to has a really fast pace for me

I think my main problem with is Ns redemption arc,Now now put down your pitchforks please-

I don’t mind N switching sides since the pilot,its more of its execution…it felt a tad bit rushed

I would have enjoyed that before N spared Uzi,in the time they were bonding in the ship,bc at that time N thought Uzi was a DD, I would have liked if they talked about how they feel around other people. Like maybe uzi could make a joke or a reference on how shitty school is for her,how her people reject her,maybe that she is constantly alone and doesn’t feel loved by her father. And the both could bond over the fact they are outcasts and desperate of approval or affection. This could make N sparing Uzi as more of “the last straw” since he already knows how shitty people treat her,seeing her dad leaving her for dead be “the nail in the coffin” for him. Basically make them bond over their shared problems before Uzis spare.

I understand that Ns killing spree in the pilot happened bc he wanted to get rid of Uzis railgun,but he also wanted to take down Uzi too and he also killed a bunch of WDF members. If he truly wanted to just get rid of the gun he could have simply stole it and destroy it but he didn’t why? Because he wanted to “give his best” but I feel like that didn’t come to me after a few weeks of analyzing it (or maybe am stupid) So make this man show his desperation,show this cinnamon roll desperation for approval even if it means killing innocents,he wants nothing more but the safety and approval of his co-workers and the company to extreme lengths.

Anyways back to him switching sides,I want the this boyboss to suffer- OK OK HEAR ME OUT PLEASE-

N does show regret from all the mass murder,but lets make that shit even better. I want to see N having a existential crisis,I want him to be consumed by guilt by the fact he killed thousands,ruined countless of families and gave them insane amount of trauma.

I want him to deal with the fact he did horrible things and there is nothing he can do to fix it. I want him to be scared of himself . I want Uzi to be hesitant of befriending him,maybe even sometimes getting flashbacks from their first encounter making her afraid of N,making N feel horrible about himself.

I want him to go “well,I definitely have done horrible things that can’t be undone,but I can change for the better”

Like please it would be the perfect arc for him PLEASE-

And of course,I want to see some WDs still be terrified,angry,scared of him. Like even of he saves a bunch of WDs some of them will still resent N for all the damaged he has causes in the past. He could Encounter WDs who had scaped from him,family members or friends of the ones he killed,and they simply can’t bear to trust him which is completely valid

It could also be a nice contrast to Uzi’s arc,Him having a redemption arc and having to earn some of the colony’s trust and accept the fact that he can’t be trusted by everyone unlike Uzi’s arc which is literally a Villian arc and loosing trust of everyone around her that she slowly gained

Edit: Btw I am aware that N wasn’t malicious or anything and just simply following orders,this is more after he switches sides,like after he realizes WDs were actually innocent lil dudes vibing,all of this is more of a “oh shit,oh fuc-“ moment

I also want to see Js backstory,maybe a bit more depth for her,I hope we get a backstory for her and it explains her hatred for N

I hope to also see a bit if more Vs character and development! She wasn’t really someone I was interested in until EP2 (Damm EP2 was really a step up)

I honestly enjoy most of the character because they aren’t simply “good or bad” (except for J,lizzy,they are jerks. Thad is literally a saint. And also I don’t personally consider Khan being “bad”,like yeah he fucked up he isn’t malicious or evil)

Speaking of khan…I actually grown on him,no joke,let me explain

Yes he left Uzi for dead,which is horrible but understandable. The more you look at it my man was having a ptsd attack,he was shaking for gods sake,he probably wasn’t thinking straight. He also showed deep guilt in doing it

Yes information gotten from the backgrounds have shown he prefers doors over Uzi and in an interview he calls her a disappointment,which is horrible but some of his thoughts process are understandable or have changed (I think)

At the end of EP2 he does show genuine care for Uzi he just..sucks at parenting which can happen! You can care for someone and want to but your execution sucks ass

I honestly find his character fascinating,it seems (and I hope) that the direction they are going to take his character is from being a shitty father to improving as one

I have rarely seen parental characters who start shitty but later improve for the sake of their loved ones,which is super fun and can have wholesome moments

(Btw am not justifying Khans actions,am just telling you that they are understandable)

Also the ending of episode EP2 has shown that Khan may have some tension with N,which is valid honestly and I am excited how it will play out

Also we need more content of Thad,Uzi and N bonding together (I call them the TUN squad)

I also want Lizzy character development,please give the lesbian development like her gf. I only slightly like her bc of her funny moments and bc she is pretty.

Also am so sorry but the WDs school uniform needs a redesign am so sorry- like what are those colors??? They look fine by themselves but they don’t match with the color pallet of the students!

I also prefer Dolls hair color from her concept art or from the pilot,and I want Lizzy to have pink tips in her hair like her concept art

Also I know I want the idea of the boyboss going through a complex redemption arc but I need more Evil laughs from this man..please…🛐🛐🛐🛐 His short ass evil chuckle from the pilot and the teaser makes me go 🛐🛐🛐 (as you can see I am very down bad for this man)

[sunshine-snippets]

Rotting Roots

woah,, within the hour of posting it on ao3,, no longer current! i am, oh boy,,, /pos

ANYWAY- MOMBOO TIME

Ao3

Words: 1.1k  

Summary:

She had never ended before, she had died, but not ended. She didn't know what it felt like- and yet she could tell this would be it. The lady of the world's final journal, her last hurrah. Momboo’s final affairs. (or me thinking a lot on the feeling of rotting)

Contents and Warnings: vague descriptions of body horror as well as just illness general, rot and mold metaphors, dying,

______

Rotting was a horribly visceral feeling, sapping of nutrients and energy, and leaving Strawberri tired.

She could feel herself rotting, wholly unpleasant in the way it made her feel empty- hollow, curly red hair getting duller and thinner and warm light skin becoming paler and colder.

She felt less alive, though they weren't just yet, a realization that she'd long since been forced to come to terms with, the idea terrifying- an eventuality she never thought she'd face, that she was now. But one she'd come to terms with in the months of ache regardless.

The not-quite-irony not lost on her- so many resets not remembering, choosing not to, just for the one she did, for her memory to stop.

Maybe a cycle in of itself. Though not one she had the energy nor care to elaborate on to her mind- most energy expended when someone came over to check on her, worried faces of her friends and children, and she wanted so badly to tell them it would be okay, to protect them. But that would only hurt them more.

Momboo was going to die. 

Amongst the chaos that was stirring, the wack was going to finish its rotting. Finish molding into her chest in an array of sharp colors almost blinding in contrast to her now-dull palette.

And if her children did not know- if her friends did not know, it would catch them by surprise and it would break them even more than they already were.

She didn't expect them to accept it, couldn't imagine a world in which they did, knowing them all too well. But they had to know, had to prepare themselves enough in the way she had.

She was still scared after all.

How could she expect them not to be?

She had never ended before, she had died, but not ended. She didn't know what it felt like- and yet she could tell this would be it. The lady of the world's final journal, her last hurrah.

Momboo’s final affairs.

..

They would still try- even if it seemed pointless, for her. They'd fight it until the end, something inherent to those she surrounded herself with, even if they knew they couldn't fix it- Even if Rae knew he couldn't fix it. Just because he had to try until the end.

They knew, knew the likelihood, but accepting it-

They just wouldn't be able to. Jamie, her youngest coming the closest- not stopping their search, but.. They knew the just-incase, leaving a sour feeling in her chest, undeniable sadness as they clung to help, as her child clung to her.

She couldn't tell if it was acceptance- or a desperate attempt to make peace for her, the closest thing truly possible for a child losing their mother. Or just an attempt to be brave for her, her youngest doing his best to put on a brave face and smile for her.

And as she accepted the way her chest had long since dulled into a constant strum of pain, of ache, extruding slowly through her limbs like it was growing roots through her veins, the way even potions didn't truly help, not long enough to act as a true reprieve, she wished she didn't appreciate it.

Just wanting to gather her children into her arms like when they were little, young pale blond and little bear pressing themselves as close as physically possible, sometimes bickering between the two just to get closer. Just wishing to protect them from the world in a way she couldn't anymore.

That hurting the most, knowing she’d leave them, but nothing could change that fact. No matter how much they fought for an answer that differed.

And yet, with the way the way she knew her tree- something almost an extension of her being, was no longer what it once was, rotted and decaying so clearly to anyone who looked, bright pink only feeling mocking to the joy she had found at the discovery of cherry trees. 

and after she left, she was sure it'd leave too- that idea alone leaving Strawberri apprehensive, but it didn't feel like a question in her mind. The tree being there for so long- it would've been nice to leave something to remember her by.

She could hope it would heal without her- pretend it could heal, without her impact, but the tree was linked, and maybe it always would be. And though it felt a nicer thought, it was a weird one too, the idea of it surviving without her. both options not truly right in her mind, but she still hoped- maybe. 

Even if it felt- the idea still not right in her mind. Even if the idea felt like fighting the inherent.

Just for the ability for something left of her to remain, to have the tree grow without her and to remain around those she cared for.

Just- one little piece. 

She had nothing to look to, just as she never really had, that feeling not unfamiliar.

She'd accepted it as much as she could.

And so maybe the colorful fungus would take over the tree too, rotting at the roots first before hollowing out the inside, leaving just the exterior shell,  Just as it would her.

Rot knew its job well.

Momboo also knew rot well, now intimately.

She'd lived so long, so very long, so much longer than any human should've, seen so many resets, seen so much.

Which she’d reassure Rae of, knowing if she reassured Easton and Jamie of it, they'd-

Momboo wished she could stay with the two longer, wished she could see the end of the conflict, make sure her kids were safe.

But they could take care of themselves, and when they couldn't, or just for extra measure- the extra reassurance. Rae would take care of them, just as he always had, And so would Ghosty, and Fenris.

They'd be okay- 

Well maybe not okay. She knew they wouldn't be okay. But they'd be safe, and eventually they'd be able to breathe again.

The idea of putting them through the grief of losing a parent-

She wished she could stop it.

But her connection to the world had dwindled and vanished, leaving her unsure if she even counted as Lady of the world anymore, the powers being inherited by her children before her eyes.

And if even there was another reset- something she dreaded and hoped desperately against, 

She didn't know if she'd come back. This was different from a stab wound- a sudden death brought on by unsuspecting forces. 

She was sick, she'd been sick, and her connection was leaving her, only signifying the worst.

Rot taking down the tree. Violent splattering of colors taking its in turn, turning it dull and dead.

What a fate to share.

[loulovestowrite]

I had a lazy day today. At least that’s what I call it. My watch tells me I still did 18000+ steps. Not that I care about steps. But you know what I mean. 

It was lazy because I didn’t go out and see friends. I didn’t go to dance. I didn’t work. I just took a day out from the world because something feels really wrong inside me and I don’t know what it is or how to fix it. I don’t believe that people can be broken, but lately I’ve felt like I am. I’m sliding into habits and behaviours from so long ago. I’m doing things that would shock the people who know me. I’m a version of myself I don’t recognise. Sometimes it’s fun, but at other times...

I needed to hit the reset button in the most desperate way. 

This morning I walked around my park for the first time in weeks. Or maybe it’s even been months? I bought a rose from the lady downstairs. Again, when was the last time I did that? I wandered down the street to buy a candle because when did I run out? How long has it been? And after that I just pottered around my little rental home. Trying to make it feel like home. 

It’s been more than six months since I got back from that small country town, but up until two hours ago the two suitcases that came back with me were still on the floor of my shoebox studio apartment. They were crowding my living space. For whatever reason I couldn’t bring myself to unpack the contents and pack the suitcases away. I wonder what my subconscious thought it would mean if I did? Today I did it though. It wasn’t planned or intentional. It was just one item after another, going somewhere more appropriate than an open suitcase on the floor of this tiny space. Why were they there for so long? Were they ready in case I needed to run away in an instant? Did it mean something about being back once they were unpacked? 

With the television I purchased (with the bonus we all got) and now a floor that isn’t crowded, it looks more like a home than it ever has. The candle is burning. The rose is on the table. I look at it all and pause. I haven’t had flowers since J. It’s really been that long. I haven’t had flowers since I got home. 

There’s a heaviness with me today. A loneliness. A need that isn’t being met. But I can’t quite work out what it is. I know it’s driving me to act in reckless ways though. So much recklessness over the last few months. Who is that woman? She’s me, but I don’t know if I like her. I don’t know how much I should get to know her. I know she’s filling a need but I’m not convinced she’s making things better. She’s wild though. She’s the part of me I used to refer to as “Louise” with an eye roll, as if that explained everything. She’s a lot of fun at night but then leaves me before dawn to wake up alone in regret.

But here feels like home today. And being home feels like soul food. The phone is quiet but that’s also okay. There are three people I want to hear from and none of the three are reaching for me. So I will sit in the silence in ways that aren’t damaging. I’ll keep doing those little things. Candles. A rose. A walk. Nesting. 

There’s something not quite right inside me lately, but it’s okay. I’m remembering how to heal myself again.

[silent-v0ice]

hi 12/11/22

life is full of thoughts. these thoughts vary in meaning but most that swirl in my head are negative. it’s no secret that i don’t like myself. it’s obvious enough that it’s become a joke even to me. i wish so desperately that it was a joke, that it wasn’t real. that maybe, just maybe, i actually had a purpose. a reason to keep going for myself. i have friends i care for and access to things many don’t, yet i still have that cave of selfishness imbedded in my core. it’s contents seep into my skin and emerge through vocal chords. i speak thoughtlessly sometimes, yet i still question the things i say. i cant win. this is life, and as dad has drilled into my head from an early age, life. isn’t. fair. life doesn’t just hand you options, you get off your ass and make them for yourself. however, i am weak. im not strong enough to make options, or think of anything productive. all i do i show up to classes as much as i can, and cry. i cry for others. i cry for missed opportunities and compassion, and i cry for me. not out of sorrow for myself, out of shame. im ashamed of myself. i’ve lived such a useless life for someone who lives the way i do. im genuinely terrible, and no matter how hard i try to fix things, i’m always reminded that i am broken. im not fixable nor helpful in any way. this does not mean i will stop trying, because giving up will make the shame worse. i cant just give up on everyone and everything because i’m too weak to keep going. my weakness is my problem, and putting it on others is selfish and disgusting. i already burden others with my existence, hence the people who have left. speaking of the lost, i think i’ve lost touch with reality for some time now. i don’t feel emotions the correct way anymore. i feel, empty. my emptiness consumes me, and the empathy i still feel gets swallowed into it. im back in 2021, taking on everyone’s feelings and feeling nothing. im back with roxy. back in that room on my phone, reading messages about the plastic bag, and the sneaking to cvs, and the scars and bruises and eating. im back begging them to get away from the scale. im back to them sobbing on my bed for reasons they wouldn’t explain to me. im back there. im back in that headspace where all you want is to surrender, yet you’d be causing people harm if you did. but still, i sit. i sit awake at night, and my head spins without me touching the wheel. it flicks through film to find horrible memories i had somewhat forgotten. i will be walking past a random location and all of a sudden i’m thinking about things i wish to never remember. i regret everything. i wish i had never existed. i wish that my existence in this life form never left japan. i cant be here. i have to be here. please, let me be. stop tormenting me. haven’t you had your fun? haven’t you caused problems enough this year? i wish to fall asleep and painlessly pass.

bye.

[dabacahin]

40 years at 59

"The search is the meaning, the search for beauty, love, kindness and restoration in this difficult, wired and often alien modern world. The miracle is that we are here, that no matter how undone we've been the night before, we wake up every morning and are still here. It is phenomenal just to be."

— Anne Lamott, Stitches: A Handbook on Meaning, Hope and Repair

_______

Anne Lamott gives me what I need on another morning like this when I don't feel like getting up again. When my life seems fine and bearable and I am not feeling sick or down in any specific, urgent way and yet I don't feel like starting yet another day. What next? What for? What if? All the old crazy questions. The moment reeks of everything I thought I had already put aside or gotten over.

Too old now, too wise and too tired to be caught up in desperation or even despair. I'm just lying down here for a while, not thinking much of where I was before this moment or where I'll go from here. No need for whys and hows for now. I’ve made it this far in this world, with this mind, in this body, having stitched together a life, this life.

It's corny and it sounds borderline smug, but here's the thing: I don't have much now, but I have contentment—or at least a bit of an awareness of it sometimes. I’m content knowing I am neither desperate nor in despair. I’m content knowing I don't have to know all the answers. I don’t have to win all the arguments. I don't need to fix everything or everyone that's broken. I don't have to recover all that's gone, all my losses. I don't have to, because I can't.

In an interview (“How to Live When You’re in Pain,” The Atlantic, November 9, 2021), the doctor and author BJ Miller said: “Happiness is not so much just the pursuit of pleasure. It’s somehow the pursuit of being okay with reality.” I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately. My version of happiness, or maybe some defiant variant of pragmatic, non-passive contentment, seems to have aligned with what Dr. Miller calls “decentralizing your ego”:

You can start decentralizing your ego; you can start seeing life outside of yourself and feeling your connection to it and appreciation for it and your responsibility to it. So in my field [hospice and palliative care], we talk about the end of life—like that’s the phrase, end of life—but it’s such a problematic phrase. Now life, life will keep going. Your life is going to end; my life’s going to end. This life will end. So it’s not the end of life. Life does not end, as far as we can tell it. It keeps on going. We—you or I—do not. So it’s the end of my life. Once you get over yourself, there is a sort of immortality happening, too, all around us.

So, it’s not all about me, my losses, my gains, all my years of searching what this all means and how it’s all going to end. It’s more like how I can finally get over myself. Which comes maybe at certain moments of the day, minutes of waking up in the middle of the night or in that space between inhales and exhales as I do one of my much-cherished early-morning long walks. I feel like I’m getting closer to getting over myself when I realize, well, yeah, some wounds never heal, some closures never close and some dreams do not deliver, and I’m okay with all that. The past is past; I can only revisit but not redo or undo it.

In 1990, at age 19, BJ Miller almost died in an accident. He was electrocuted; both his legs and half of his left arm had to be amputated. I was also 19 when I almost got it all over with. No more pleasure and no more pain, that would have been the plan. But fortunately some plans do not deliver, either.

A few days ago—November 18, 2022—was sort of a milestone for me. It marked the passage of 40 years. It was 40 years ago when I needed the world to stop. I tried, but I couldn't make it stop. Maybe some part of me ended then, but the rest of me lived on. How did I ever manage to stick around for as long as I have?

In 1982, I was 19. College senior. Lit major. Done with my last class (Philosophy of Religion) that chilly November afternoon. No autumn in this country. Nothing foreboding or piercing like winter. But the wind that day was relentlessly tearing leaves from trees, tossing and whipping them around where I walked.

And I walked out of that classroom, into the corridors, into and out of the library, and out on the streets of scattered leaves and deepening cracks, feeling like I had to go on walking until I could no longer see any reason or feel any compulsion to keep on walking. Until finally I went home and put myself to sleep when it was hours and hours away from bedtime.

Hours and hours later, I woke up in a hospital. Much later, I was back in the house, hooked up to an IV, vomiting and defecating and feeling depleted. Lying in bed, I turned to one side and saw the TV was on. It was a lively dance number, bodies moving in sync, swinging, jerking, being tossed and twirled, but the sound had been muted. I closed my eyes. Somehow I managed to put myself back to sleep. But no, the world did not stop.

That was 40 years ago, when I was 19 and the world went on. It went on and on and on until I could no longer bear the thought that I would have to be dragged along for a ride that wasn't going anywhere I wanted to, a ride that to me had lasted long enough.

But ride on I did. And still do. Sometimes it feels like a never-ending rollercoaster, and I feel like those leaves that November afternoon 40 years ago, when the wind tossed them, when they broke free and soared and fell. But sometimes it feels like what it is—just a ride. James Taylor beautifully sings about it in "Secret o' Life," that it's just a lovely ride and that it, too, will end: "Nobody knows how we got to the top of the hill. But since we're on our way down, we might as well enjoy the ride."

The song says the secret of life is enjoying the passage of time. Did I enjoy the passage of those 40 years? Am I enjoying the passage of time now as I type these words knowing that all these words can do is delay the moment I officially start another day with all its ups and downs and flatlines, its roundabouts and routines and a few (maybe pleasant) surprises? 40 years at 59. What do those 40 years look like from my 59-year-old view? How will they feel as more years pile up and slide down? Why do I even bother asking?

What next? What for? What if? Maybe I'll soon find out. Maybe I never will. And that's okay, too. I am grateful for the years that have passed. And I will try to enjoy no matter how much more—or how much less—time I have on this little lovely ride. As Anne Lamott says, it's a miracle to be still here. I never thought that after all these years I'd still be sticking around minus the certainty of whys and hows. Yes, it is enough and it is phenomenal just to be.

[noteguk]

any way you want it | kth | m

— summary; in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself. 

— contents and warnings; smut, childhood best friends, Taehyung x reader, bigdick!tae, breast play, oral (f receiving), dry grinding, dirty talk, tae has a praise kink, unprotected sex (be responsible!!), rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, Taehyung takes things personally but he has good intentions, this is what happens when mutual thirst gets suppressed for years of friendship 

— words; 6.6k

�� author’s note; i have no idea why but this fic was so fucking hard to put down into words??? I felt mentally constipated the entire time but it’s finally here 

Taehyung wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when you called him at almost two in the morning, complaining about your newest nightmarish date and practically begging to come over. Like the good friend that he was, he made sure to tell you that you would be more than welcome to join him in his newest documentary marathon about aliens, and wondered if you could bring him some takeout on your way over there. Like the bad friend that you were, you said no. 

To be fair, the nearest takeout place was across the city from his apartment (about thirty minutes away and in a bad neighborhood), and you were already having a horrible night as it was. Besides, you refused to take part in Taehyung’s search for a high blood pressure and cholesterol levels, arguing that it wasn’t the right time to stuff his face full of hypercaloric noodles. 

But you did pity him enough to comply with his second request: a big pot of vanilla ice cream, which you were sure you’d end up consuming too. You were in a crisis.

As if to prove that the gods above were laughing at you, during the walk of shame to Taehyung’s apartment, it had started to rain (because of course it did), and your umbrella was only able to save you from the shoulders up before it crumbled and flew away from your gasp, rolling on the asphalt like a ball of dirt in a Wild West movie. By the time that you dragged yourself to his front door, you were completely soaked (and not in the way you had planned for that night to end), and about to break down crying. 

Taehyung, like the angel that he was, helped you with your heavy coat and talked you into taking a warm shower before you got sick. He took the supermarket bag from you (where the ice cream had probably already melted) and walked you to this bathroom, excusing himself so he could grab you some dry clothes — and you only saw the ones he had picked when you got out of the shower. 

With a silly smile dancing on your lips, you fumbled with the black booty shorts that Taehyung had jokingly gifted you that past Christmas — one that read “daddy’s juicy butt” in big, bold, neon pink letters over your ass — and then decided that your dignity was already dead by that point, so another kick wouldn’t hurt. Taehyung had also given you one of his favorite band shirts, which he only revealed during desperate times. 

Your heart melted with the thought of your best friend trying to comfort you, and pulled the fabric close to your face so you could take a deep inhale, drowning in his scent. It smelled of that stupid cologne that Taehyung had used ever since he hit puberty, and a bit of fabric softener. 

The two of you had an extremely close friendship, to the point that it got kind of strange at times. Ever since childhood, it was joked that you and Taehyung had been long lost soulmates — doing everything together, from going to school to laughing at the same exact jokes during movie marathons, often at the same moment and for the same amount of time. Before puberty hit (and the hormonal rage took over your first teenage years) you couldn’t remember disagreeing with him even once. You two had always been in sync. 

But the uncomfortably close part only hit after you two went to college, and your anxiety for being a virgin in a sea of starving sharks got the best of you. After long conversations, you had managed to convince Taehyung to help you learn a thing or two about the art of naked wrestling. 

Apparently it was weird to give your best friend a handjob and a blowjob for the sake of education. Go figure. 

Regardless, your friendship wasn’t affected by any of that — even if you two had agreed to never mention any of it ever again — and you could always count on Taehyung to catch you when you fell. 

Even if it was at two am on a Tuesday, after one of your nightmarish dates. 

You threw yourself on the couch next to him, hugging your knees against your chest to form a barrier between you and the divine providence that had taken you to that point. You had half-assedly dried your hair, but pools of wetness had started to build on the back of Taehyung’s shirt. 

Instead of accusing you of ruining his favorite piece of clothing, Taehyung reached for the remote and paused his documentary just as the narrator was starting to explain how hieroglyphs were actually part of an alien language. “Just tell me how bad it was,” he said, a mustache of ice cream melting over his top lip.

You took a peek at the bowl of melting vanilla on his center table, and decided that you would probably pass the desert for the night. 

You glanced at him sideways, voice coming out monotone. “You sure you want to go down that path?” 

Taehyung licked his sweet mustache off and nodded, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, hit me with it. You look like you need all the help that you can find.” 

You sighed, turning around on the couch so you were facing him — legs still against your chest. “Okay so… I went to his place...” 

“Yes…”

“And... we had dinner, talked for a bit.”

“How was the talk?” He asked. 

You shook your head, trying to kill the memories inside. “He didn’t let me say a word. He just went on and on about this new website he’s working on, and how expensive his wine glasses were.” You scoffed, angry at yourself for ignoring the clear red flags of an arrogant douchebag. That was what the desperate need for immediate human connection could do to someone, you thought. “Apparently it’s supposed to be the next Facebook or something. Or twitter. I honestly wasn’t paying much attention.”

He chuckled. “Starting off strong.” 

“That wasn’t even the main issue,” you said, lowering your forehead so it was touching your knees. You just wanted the world to end at that moment, so you wouldn’t have to go through those experiences again. “After that, we sat on his couch and started watching a movie. And you know how that goes, we started kissing, he pushed me down and got on top of me…”

“And?” He instigated. 

With a sigh, you raised your head, meeting your friend’s gaze. Taehyung thought he had never seen you look so dead inside. And he had seen a lot from you. “And he humped like… my lower abdomen for about three minutes and came in his pants.”

Taehyung cringed visibly, taking one hand to cover his mouth. “Oh, man. That’s bad.” 

You nodded, strangely relieved at his reaction. Part of you was worried that you were the evil witch in that scenario, that maybe you had done something wrong. “The worst,” you agreed. “Wanna know what else?”

“What? There’s more?”

“He didn’t even ask me if I was satisfied with whatever the hell that was.” You told him, bitterness dripping from your tongue. In the grand scheme of things, that was something silly to get mad over, but the fact that your date didn’t even have the guts to ask if you had gotten something out of that was ridiculous. “Not that I could possibly be. But it’s like he didn’t care and I was just a pillow for him to hump like a… sexually repressed religious teen, I don’t know.”

Taehyung only nodded, realizing that there wasn’t much that he could say to fix the situation. “Was he a good kisser at least?”

You sneered. “I think he was trying to crush my face with his.” You glanced at your friend, only half of his face bathed by the yellow and orange shades coming from the television. Maybe a documentary about ancient history and alien expeditions wouldn’t be so bad. Worst case scenario, it would knock you out, and you wouldn’t have to think about that mess anytime soon. “Also, too much tongue, just… the amount of saliva…”

“Got it. You can stop there.” Taehyung raised one hand, his eyes closing for a second. His palm lowered and met one of your knees, standing there in a silent attempt at consolation. “I’m sorry about your terrible date experience, dude.” 

“If you could even call it that.” You ran one hand through your hair, suddenly overtaken by a wave of anger. “God! I was just… so… ugh! Like… ughhhh!!” 

Taehyung, bless his heart, sometimes couldn’t understand the random neanderthal sounds you threw his way. “So... what?”

At last, your makeshift protection came crumbling down, and you collapsed on the couch dramatically, legs dangling off the edge. Taehyung thought that you were being possessed for exactly two seconds before you started talking again. “I did a full body shave for this night, Taehyung. Do you realize what that means?” His lips fell open, but, before he had the chance to answer, you continued. “It means that I really wanted to get railed tonight. Actually, I wanted to find a guy who actually knew what he was doing for once in my life.”

Taehyung chuckled, trying to disperse the tension in the room. “Come on, the dating pool can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad,” you said. 

He wasn’t giving up that fast. “How bad?”

You raised your head to look him dead in the eyes, a silent threat, before finally uttering, “Try no-man-has-ever-made-me-cum bad,” and crashing your head back against the sofa. 

If you weren’t so hyper-focused on your own sexual melodrama, you would have noticed the thick silence that fell between the two of you, Taehyung’s face contorting into fifty different emotions within a few seconds. He thought that he had heard it all — from the secrets hidden in Machu Picchu to the obvious extraterrestrial influence on earthy religion — but no amount of bad documentaries could ever prepare him for that revelation. That didn’t make any sense. 

“Wait. Seriously?” He finally found his voice and managed to push his doubt out of his throat. “You’ve never had an orgasm before?”

You chuckled, humorless. “Oh no, I’ve had plenty of those. Just not from another person.” 

“How’s that possible?” he asked. 

“I ask myself that every single day.” You sighed, forcing yourself to sit back up. Taehyung was staring at you like you had just grown two extra arms, and you wondered what an amazing sex life he must’ve had for that confession to get him so confused. “Guess I’m just really bad at picking partners, who knows.”

There was a soft grunt on your throat as you fixed your position on the couch, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your entire day piling up at once. Your gaze mindlessly traveled to the TV — a big plasma monstrosity that Taehyung had bought compulsively during a Black Friday sale — looking at a white-bearded man pointing maniacally towards a specific, round-shaped hieroglyph. You didn’t even need to hit play to know that he was making it seem like it was an UFO, but curiosity got the best of you. 

“Can you pass me the remote?” You asked, pointing at the small device that laid beyond Taehyung’s body. “I kinda wanna see what—”

“I’ve made tons of girls have orgasms,” Taehyung interrupted, looking at you like he had just clicked out of a transe.  

You laughed at his monotone voice. “I’m happy for you, Tae.” You leaned over his legs so you could finally reach the remote. “That wasn’t a jab at your masculinity, I’m sure you’re a very caring partner, and I’m sure there’s tons of guys out there that—”

“I can make you cum too, if you want.”

You had just grabbed the small piece of plastic when his sentence hit you like a smack in the face, making you drop the remote back on the couch, eyes widening. “You… what?”

He suddenly broke eye contact, taking one hand to massage the back of his neck. “Did that sound as creepy as I think it did?”

“A bit, yeah.” You forced out a light chuckle, trying to break the ice. There was no sign of mockery in his voice, and you didn’t know how to react. You could not say that the offer wasn’t tempting (you’d be lying if you claimed that you didn’t think Taehyung was attractive), but his proposal was so oddly-placed that it sounded like a joke. “What are you talking about?”

Taehyung sighed, turning his head to look at the television. “I just think it’s really unfair that no one has ever made you cum before.” 

You smiled. “That’s very nice of you, but…”

“And I want to help you with that.” He looked back at you. Oh, he was being a hundred percent serious. There was no longer a single ounce of doubt in your mind. “We’re friends, it’s not gonna be weird. We’ve done similar stuff before.”

“We were a lot younger, though.” You didn’t know why your mouth suddenly felt so dry, your fight or flight response kicking at full strength. You could tell that Taehyung was also trying to convince himself about the strangeness of the situation. “It’s gonna be kind of weird, yeah.”

“Not if we don’t make it weird,” he threw back. Was it bad that you were actually considering it? Maybe it was the piled-up exhaustion combined with the years of sexual frustration, maybe you were finally out of your mind. But you were really considering it. “I don’t wanna pressure you, alright? Just making a friendly offer. If you don’t want it, that’s fine.” 

You kind of wanted it, though. There was too much accumulated libido inside you from years and years of unsatisfying partners, and you trusted Taehyung with your entire heart. It sounded like a safe enough bet: if all went to shit and it got too awkward, you two could just stop, no hard feelings. Besides, you knew that Taehyung cared about you, which was more than you could say about all your dates in the past couple years. 

And the more you stared at him, probably looking like a deer in the headlights, the more you grew soft under his presence. At once, you were hit with desires that you had never considered before: you wanted to kiss those soft lips, wanted to know how his large hands would feel around you. You really, really wanted to know how it was to have a good sexual experience with someone, and you couldn’t think of a better candidate than your best friend. Even if you still thought it could be seen as a little bit weird. 

But you also kind of didn’t care. 

You licked your lips, finally finding your voice after a long moment of silence. “How… how would you do it?” 

Taehyung turned his head and looked at you, noticing the expectation in your eyes. “How would you want me to do it?” He asked. 

You tried to think, but your mind was completely blank. What did you want him to do? What did you like? Suddenly you weren’t sure about anything anymore. “I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down. 

Taehyung smiled at your nervousness, one of his hands moving to your chin and tilting your head up. “How ‘bout I start by kissing you?” He questioned, gaze flickering to your parted lips. “Is that alright?” 

There were no words in your throat, so you simply nodded, closing your eyes as he leaned in. 

Taehyung’s mouth tasted of vanilla and you thought, even for a moment, that you were in paradise. The second that his tender lips met yours, your anxiety melted away, giving space to a newfound flame of desire. Taehyung kissed you softly, sensually, taking his time caressing your mouth and drowning in your heat. His hand moved to the back of your head, pressing you closer to him and leaning your head to the side so he could deepen the kiss. 

He sighed heavily into your mouth when your tongues met, his other hand moving to hold your waist. The position on the couch was kind of awkward for kissing, with the two of you sitting side by side, so it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise when Taehyung tugged you onto his lap, making you straddle him. 

The kiss was starting to get hungrier, messier, a small whimper dying in your mouth when his palms traveled down to cup your ass, pressing you down against his semi-hard cock. Taehyung sighed and groaned at the feeling of you on top of him, loving the way that your fingers played with his hair, your body so perfectly tight against his. If there was any hesitation before, it had completely vanished by that point. 

It caught you off guard when he suddenly broke off the kiss to ask you, “Do you like any pet names?”

You blinked, taken aback. “Hm? What?”

He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know, you want me to call you by something?”  

You realized that Taehyung was really taking that personal service to a different level, and you couldn’t say that you were let down by it. If any of your past partners had the dignity to ask what you liked, you wouldn’t be in that position in the first place. “I… like being called ‘baby’,” you told him. 

Taehyung smiled. “That’s cute. Baby it is.” 

Before you had a chance to respond, Taehyung’s lips were back on yours, a dreamy sigh leaving his mouth as your tongues met once again. Only a few seconds passed before he shifted his weight to lay you down, never breaking the kiss as he positioned himself between your legs, hovering over you. Taehyung started trailing a path of kisses down your neck, his large hands slithering beneath your oversized shirt and caressing the skin of your stomach. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging at your shirt. 

You agreed and, within a heartbeat, that piece of clothing was already on the floor, and Taehyung was diving in to kiss the valley of your naked breasts. You moaned timidly when one of your nipples was wrapped by his lips, his tongue coming out to play with it. Taehyung’s other hand was occupied fondling your other breast, tugging and pressing down on it, and the sensations were taking over your mind. 

“You have great tits,” Taehyung mumbled against your skin, switching to mouth your other nipple. 

“I’m glad you like them,” you teased, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. You were letting out these cute little whimpers that were making him lose his mind. “Feels really good.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, moving back to kiss his way up your neck. His tongue was hot and heavy as it danced on your skin, and you knew that those sucks he was giving you were surely gonna leave a few marks on your flesh. But you didn’t really care. “Gonna make you feel even better, baby.” 

Your eyes fluttered shut at the pet name — it sounded heavenly when Taehyung used it with his deep, honeyed voice; his warm breath hitting your neck as he continued with his ministrations. 

He kissed his way to your cheek, placing a small pec on your lips before saying, “Can you do something for me?”

You nodded. “What is it?” 

Instead of responding right away, Taehyung’s gaze fell to your lips, and he was once again attacking them. That time, you weren’t able to hold back the whimper that you let out, your panties already glued against your core with how much he was turning you on. 

One of his hands had trailed down your exposed abdomen, teasingly playing with the hem of your shorts. You held your breath when he tugged them down, bringing your underwear with it and throwing them somewhere in the living room. Taehyung grunted loudly when his fingers slipped past your folds, digging into your heat. His brain almost short-circuited because of how wet you were. 

He broke the kiss and looked you deep in the eyes. “I want you to sit on my face, baby,” he said, and his request shot straight to your core. “Let me take care of you, okay?” 

“Are you sure?” You asked. You had never done that before.

But Taehyung wasn’t sharing your reluctance. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse and eyes darkened. “Wanna taste you so bad. Sit on my face, please.” 

And you didn’t need any more convincing than that. Taehyung helped you get up from the couch so he could reposition himself on it, laying flat on his back and watching as you settled yourself above him, thighs on either side of his head. The couch was the exact size for that, a little smaller and you’d have one leg dangling off the edge.

Taehyung took his hands to your thighs, running them up to your hips. His eyes were focused on your pussy, and you never felt so exposed when he started pressing you down lightly, guiding you closer to his mouth. 

You held the back of the couch for support and did as he requested, lowering yourself until Taehyung had you flat on his tongue. Your breath trembled and caught in your throat when he licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, humming around the taste before doing it again. Taehyung was an expert at erasing your worries because, with a few more licks, he had you fully losing yourself in his sinful ministrations. 

It wasn’t long until you were whining out his name, your folds lazily dragging against his tongue as you started to grind on his face. “God, Taehyung!” You called out, hand coming down to tug at his hair. Taehyung grunted in satisfaction, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves through your pussy. “That’s… that’s really nice. You’re really good at this.” 

He moaned in response, closing his eyes at your words. Taehyung was eating you out like his mouth was made for it, like he was starving for your taste and you were all that he could think about. He licked you from your entrance to your clit, playing with your sensitive spots and enjoying the tremors of pleasure that ran through your thighs, his hands locked tight around your hips. You sobbed and cried over him, making special effort to keep your legs steady as you rocked yourself on his tongue. 

It was only when he decided to suck on your clit that you realized how absurdly close you were. You clenched your teeth and whined out, yanking his hair harder. “Do that again, please,” you asked and Taehyung, like the good friend that he was, was quick to comply. Taehyung wrapped his mouth around your clit in a way that had you trembling over him, licking and sucking on your sensitive nub like his life depended on it. “Fuck, that’s so good, Tae. Feels so good…” 

He moaned again, more desperate this time, and some part of your mind understood the pattern that he was presenting you: Taehyung really, really liked your compliments. And you had no problem giving away any more of them. 

“You’re licking me so well, Tae, you’re gonna make me cum like this,” you told him,  meaning every word you said. Taehyung was a Greek god beneath you, staring up at you with those dark, focused eyes as if he dared you to cum on his tongue. “God! You’re so good for me.”

And then your praises ran thin, because your mind was gravitating somewhere else — seeking for the high that was dangerously close. It was only when Taehyung started toying with your entrance, brushing two of his fingers on it, that you came undone, crying out his name like it was a personal prayer. 

There was a smirk on your mouth as you came down, a flooding relief that overtook you. You never thought that you could come so hard in your life, especially when it depended on another person, and you were so, so happy to be wrong that you could cry. 

With shaky legs, you removed yourself from Taehyung’s face, straddling his lap and watching as his lips glistened with your arousal. His pink tongue came out to lick them, a hum on his throat as he took in your fucked-out expression. 

“You did so well, baby,” he said, placing one of his hands on your waist. “Come here.” 

Obedient, you leaned in and sighed as his mouth met yours. This time, Taehyung didn’t wait to eagerly insert his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste yourself on him. 

He pulled away leisurely, his voice hoarse. “Can you taste how sweet you are?” He asked. “I loved making you cum on my tongue, baby. You looked so pretty.” 

Taehyung breathed out, planting kisses on your neck, one hand trailing down to squeeze your ass. You whined at his tight grip and pressed yourself down on him, feeling his hard cock poking out against the fabric of his sweats. 

Taehyung groaned at the stimulation, pressing down on your asscheek again. You rolled your hips on top of him, wincing in sensitivity as his member brushed your clit. “Loved your pussy so much, baby,” he continued, sounding like he was lost in a daydream, “I can’t wait to be inside you. Bet you’d be so tight for my cock, hm?” 

“Yeah,” you managed to speak. Even if you had just reached your orgasm, you were still aching to feel something inside you. You wanted Taehyung more than you could understand. “I want you to fuck me, Tae, please.” 

He breathed out, his hands tightening around your flesh as you rolled your pussy against his cock once again. Taehyung looked like he was one heartbeat away from completely losing his self control, and hearing you beg for him to fuck you wasn’t doing him any favors. “Gonna need to lie down for me, baby,” he asked. 

With a few more shifts on the couch, Taehyung had you beneath him once again, your legs open for him as he removed his shirt and pants. It wasn’t long before his cock sprung free from its confinement, standing erect. You licked your lips at the lustful sight, pussy clenching in anticipation as you took him in — Taehyung was big. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, that’s for sure; long and thick and already leaking for you. 

You would’ve cried out in need if he didn’t interrupt you. “What are you looking at?” Taehyung asked, the ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips. 

Your stare oscillated toward his own. “That’s why you have such a good track record, your cock is huge.” You bit your lip, thinking about how good he would feel inside you. You didn’t know how it was possible, but you were pretty sure the last time you’ve seen his cock — back in the dark ages of your freshman year of college — it wasn’t as big as that. Or maybe you just didn’t have anything to compare it to. 

“Hey, I just used my tongue on you, don’t ignore my efforts,” Taehyung teased, wrapping one of his hands around his member so he could pump himself a few times. The playful atmosphere swiftly shifted back, and, when he spoke up again, his voice was deeper. “You think you can take it?” 

“Yeah, I can,” you said. You couldn’t be sure, but you were sure going to try. 

Taehyung hummed, moving a bit closer so he could brush his tip against your pussy, coating it with your wetness. You closed your eyes in expectation, knowing that you’d love the stretch he would give you. 

“You want it?” He asked, a touch of desperation covering his words. Taehyung was nearing his breaking point, and the fluttering of your pussy on his cock was making him go insane. “Want my cock inside your tight little cunt, baby?” 

You nodded, frantic. The brushing of his thick tip on your hole was becoming too much, your walls clenching around nothing, seeking for something to fill you up. “Yes, fuck, I want it so bad.” 

“Are you tight for me, baby?” He was trying to prolong that moment for as much as he could, keep the pretty face you made when you pleaded for him to fuck you burned in the back of his head. Making you cum once was a victory he would take forever, but making you cum around his cock might as well be his life’s biggest achievement. “Ready for me to fuck you?” 

You cried out when he started pressing himself inside you, guiding his crown inside your pussy, then stopping. “Yes, Tae, just put it all in, please,” you whined, hands fumbling for support on his broad shoulders. Taehyung already had you clenching around nothing, you didn’t know what else he wanted from you. “Please, please, fuck me.” 

Taehyung chuckled, looking down at where you two met. He was only human, and his self control was short lived. “Since you asked so nicely…” 

Your back arched off the sofa as you felt the delicious drag of his large cock inside you, opening you up gradually, taking its time before filling you up to the brim. You gasped and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling, nails digging on the skin of his back as Taehyung groaned besides your ear. 

“Fuck, that’s so good.” He let out a shaky breath, and you swore you never heard his voice get so husky before. “I just slipped right in. You’re so fucking wet.” 

Your mind was an apocalypse of confused thoughts and forgotten exclamations, eyes fluttering shut as you dove into the sensation of Taehyung inside you — his hips angling backwards, tilting up just enough so he could move himself away from you core, only to come slamming back inside. The stretch of his cock was amazing, it was making you drunk, and all that you could think about was how much pleasure it was giving you. 

“So-So big—“ you muttered, half aware that the words actually left your lips. 

“How do you like it, uh?” Taehyung asked, his voice dripping sin and hunger. You could tell that he, too, was getting carried away by the feeling, his hips rutting themselves against you at a lazy pace. “Gonna give it to you any way you want it, baby.” 

You bit your lip, a small moan leaving your mouth when Taehyung leaned closer to you, distributing hot kisses on your neck. You swore you’d be happy if you died then. “I like it rough,” you answered. 

He groaned, apparently satisfied with your response. “Whatever you want.” 

Taehyung got to his knees on the couch, deciding to put one foot on the ground for support, his hands raising your hips to help him reach even deeper inside you. Faster than your brain could compute, the shallow, lazy pace he had sat was being replaced with a harsh, fast pumping that made you cry out his name, eyes closing in sheer bliss. 

“Tae! Yes, yes, just like that,” you sobbed, running one hand through your hair. You felt like your body was floating, every cell of your body overheating with the amazing pleasure that Taehyung was giving you. You never had someone fucking you so hard, his cock pistoning inside you, your body bobbing up and down on the couch. 

Taehyung’s eyes were glued to the bouncing of your breasts as he continued to fuck you, a deep groan leaving his chest. “That’s it, take it,” he moaned out, quickening his pace even more. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth opening in a silent scream.  “Gonna make you cum so hard around my cock, baby. Gonna fuck you until you cry. Want that?” 

“Yes, yes, please,” you moaned. “Feels so good, Tae.” 

“You like my cock, baby? Like it filling you up?” He asked and you could only nod pathetically, your entire body too fucked out to even respond. “F-fuck, your pussy is so good. Tell me that you love my cock.” 

“I love your cock,” you whined, feeling like a complete hot mess under his thrusts. “I — fuck! — I love your cock so much, Tae, it’s so big.” 

Your words motivated him to fuck you even harder, his member hitting even deeper inside you. Taehyung was getting lost in the stretch of your pussy around him, the glorious sounds you were making, the lust that coated your face every time you called out his name. 

“Shit, I don’t know how anyone could look at you like this and not want to see that pretty face cum.” He was breathing out hard, grunting every time your cunt tightened around him. Taehyung wanted to see you like that forever, taking his cock like a good girl, creaming all over him and begging to do it again. You were wrapping around him so perfectly, taking all of him so well, that he didn’t think he’d manage to move on from that anytime soon. “So fucking hot.”

Taehyung chased after your high like a starving man looking for food, experimentally changing the angle and force of his thrusts to see what would get the best reaction out of you. At last, after a pathetically loud cry from your part after he raised your legs up, it seemed as if he had found it. “I bet you’d be so tight cumming around my cock, baby,” he was thinking out loud at that point, trying to make sense of the pretty sounds and expressions you were giving him so eagerly. He wanted nothing more than to see you cum — it was personal at that point. “I wanna feel you cum around me, baby. Wanna feel it so bad.” 

“I’m c-close.” Your nails dug into his shoulders, eyes closing tightly. There was a light heat in your cheeks and sweat on your forehead that was making Taehyung wonder if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “You’re so good, T-Tae, you’re fucking me so well…” 

Taehyung thought that he could cum right then and there, pushed over the edge with those sweet words alone. He loved being good to you, loved making you feel things that no one else managed to before. He was intoxicated by that sense of superiority, drowning in your praise. He wished that he could fuck you forever. 

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he pushed you on, his words hanging somewhere between an order and a breathless plea. You were getting so tight around him that it was making him crazy, your wetness coating his cock and dripping down between your legs like his own personal brand of aphrodisiac. “You can do it, come on. I wanna see you cum so bad.” 

You smiled at him, a cute, fucked-out smirk that made Taehyung go to heaven and back. “So good for me, Tae, you’re so big,” you said, your voice so needy and high-pitched. Your orgasm was looming over you, pressing down on your lower body and making you see stars. It was only a matter of time before Taehyung got you crying out his name, back arching off the couch and mouth falling open in delirium. “Tae! Fuck! Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna—“ 

But your warning came a second too late, because you were already spasming around his length, body shaking as Taehyung thrusted hard inside you. Just as expected, you were absolutely fucking gorgeous when you came — all quivering lips and rolling eyes —, and Taehyung was beyond satisfied to know that he was the only one who saw that pretty face of yours. 

“That’s it, baby, fuck.” Taehyung was starting to feel his own high approaching, called by the delicious tightening and releasing of your pussy around him. His thrusts were messy and harsh; his sweaty hair falling over his eyes like a cascade. “Can I cum inside you, baby? Can I fuck you full of my cum?”

You noticed the desperation in his tone and, with the throbbing of his member inside you, you knew that he wasn’t far. “Yes, please,” you said. “You were so good for me, Tae, you can cum wherever you want.” 

And it was that final taste of praise that pushed Taehyung over his limit; waves upon waves of cum filling you up as he rode out his high. “God— fuck!” He cried out, drunk on the feeling of your walls milking the last drops of cum out of his cock. A few lazy pumps later, and he was collapsing on top of you with a mumbled, “F-Fuck.” 

There was an instant of silence after his orgasm, the quietude only filled by Taehyung’s heavy breathing. You took one hand to his head, caressing the strands as a smile blossomed on your lips. “Well, I believe you now,” you said playfully. “I’m sure you made a bunch of girls orgasm.” 

Taehyung chuckled, breathless. “Thank you, I try,” he said, looking up at you. The darkness in his gaze was gone, and it was just your best friend staring back at you. “You alright?”

“I’m great,” you admitted. You never felt so good in your life. “You?”

“Fantastic, thanks for asking.” He leaned back so he could sit up, running one hand through his disheveled hair before saying, “I’m gonna grab you a towel, hang on.” 

Taehyung left you for a couple minutes before coming back to clean you up, tenderly wiping away the mess you two had created. After he was done, he discarded the towel on the floor and crawled back to rest on your chest once again. 

There was a comforting quietude that floated in the atmosphere, only filled by the muffled buzzing of his freezer and the vague sound of raindrops drumming on the window. You didn’t really know how to deal with that entire situation, didn’t know how things would stay between the two of you. But, at that point, you made the decision to keep those worries for the following morning and, instead, just enjoy his warmth radiating all around you. 

The glorious silence, at last, was broken when Taehyung started mumbling against your breasts.  “Hey, ___?” He called. 

“Yeah?”

“How many dates have you been on?”

You hummed, thinking for a moment. “Ever?”

Taehyung made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I don’t know, like, this past year.”

“Uh… like… five or six? I think?” You answered, looking down to meet his gaze. You knew that wicked expression very well. “Why?”

He smiled. “Because we have a lot of shitty dates to make up for.”

[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.

[boldlyvoid]

forever is the sweetest con | Chip Taylor x Reader

18+

Summary: Reader's dad is a carpenter; sometimes he takes on apprentices and sometimes, if they're lucky, they get his daughter's number at the end of their training. Chip Taylor, however, hits the jackpot when her father invites him over for one of her homecooked meals.

Warnings: reader's mom passed away, mentions of parental death, strangers to lovers, random acts of kindness, mutual pining, falling in love, steamy make-outs, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, sub!chip, food mentions, praise, love confessions.

word count: 6.2k

a/n: thank you @samuel-de-champagne-problems for requesting a chip fic!! i am in love with him and also yes this plot is something that happened to my parents, however, my mom is still alive and my dad does give my Instagram out to the men who subcontract for him lmao!

Her father was a carpenter, and he often took on apprentices. You see, he had to learn everything on his own to make his way in life and support his family, he was willing to help other men do the same thing. And so every night he would come home from work and talk about whatever idiot he was teaching this week.

“His name is Chip,” her father emphasized the p with confusion, “what is that even short for?”

“It’s short for Charles,” she couldn’t help but laugh, “is he at least more competent than that Mason kid?”

“Much!” He rolled his eyes, “although I did have to teach him how to put crown moulding in today, he’s a quick learner and you can tell he’s just following what they teach at the schools but I know the hacks.”

“I know, Dad,” she smiled. “Is he cute? Single?”

She’s been on dates with most of the guys he’s worked with, mainly because they went to her high school back in the day, but also because her father was trying to play matchmaker. Ever since her mother died, she’s been taking care of him and he just wanted her to have some fun outside of the house. She needed a life in his eyes.

She was content working at the diner and serving people food all day just to come home and take care of her father. He worked hard to make sure they stayed afloat after her mom, the least she could do is make him dinner and a sandwich for lunch the next day.

“He is actually,” he shrugged, “he’s a yes man, you’d probably really like him.”

“Why’s that?” She asked, waiting for whatever snide comment he was going to make to jokingly piss her off.

“Your aunt Lisa only married your uncle Jason because he was a yes man and she could wear the pants, and you’ve always been just like her,” he explained it nicer than she expected.

“Give him my number next time you work with him?” She asks nicely, taking his plate from the table and moving it to the sink.

“Good luck chip,” she hears him mumble under his breath.

It makes her laugh, she loves her relationship with her father and the friendly environment they were able to keep after everything that’s happened to their family. They always laughed together, he was always cracking jokes and even when they were shouting obscenities at each other it came from a place of love, “fuck-head” was a term of endearment in their home.

—

He brings Chip home with him without telling her, she’s been home all day cleaning the house; her hair is a mess and she’s all sweaty, and he really is cute. She made enough food for an army so it wasn’t a problem in her father’s eyes, saying “doesn’t she always look beautiful? It’s fine Y/N.”

“Yeah,” Chip agreed with a small smile and a blush that roared red down his neck. "You're very beautiful."

She cleans up a bit before dinner, brushing her hair and changing into a nice sundress. She adds some perfume and shakes the anxiety out of her body, he was just one of her dad’s friends from work. And he happened to be incredibly adorable.

Returning to find them talking about how he fixed their frozen pipes in the winter with a hairdryer. It was the most basic shit to her and yet Chip was fascinated like he’s never heard any of these things before. He’s holding a beer in his hands with a leg crossed as he leans on the sofa and he’s so cute…

He’s in his work jeans and his shirt is all sweaty, and his hair is curled on the ends from all the hard work. His hands are dirty and he smells like sawdust and home. She’s not listening to a single thing they’re talking about, she’s just staring at the way his face moves when he talks and how sweet his laugh is.

He loves dinner, he’s beyond thankful and even more so for dessert. She made homemade banana bread with the bananas they had, they were going to go bad if she didn’t. It wasn’t anything special but he acted like she made his whole day.

He helps bring all the dishes into the kitchen, standing beside her as she fills the sink with water, “do you have a towel? I could help dry.”

“I know where everything is, how about you wash and I dry?” She compromises with a smile, and he’s more than happy to oblige.

She learns a little about him, he’s kind and friendly and he seems to crave the feeling of family that being in her home provides. He doesn’t want to stop washing dishes because then he has to go home, and he doesn’t look like he really wants to do that either.

“Do you need a ride home, Chip?” She asks as he lets the sink water out, “I was thinking about going to get some ice cream if you want to join me?”

“I would love to,” he smiles again, “thank you, Y/N.”

—

She understands everything when she drops him off at his tiny, little, run-down apartment; he’s going to be all alone as soon as he leaves her car and she hates that for him. He was so nice it was hard to believe that he didn’t have a nice partner and a house and kids by now.

“I wouldn’t mind if you came over for dinner after all your shifts with my dad? Just text me before so I make enough dinner?” She offers with butterflies swarming in her stomach.

“You’re too kind to me,” he replies, unable to meet her eyes as she turns to him.

“I just want more time to look at you,” she teases, “you’re really handsome.”

He lights up, “you think so?”

She nods with a small laugh, pushing air through her nose as she leans in more, “and you’re nice and funny, and your voice is cute.”

He’s stunned as his eyes flick back and forth from hers to her lips, his lips are parted as he tries to breathe but fails, he looks like no one has ever told him that before.

“Are you working with my dad tomorrow?” She changes the topic so that he can focus once more.

“I should be,” he replies just soft enough for her to hear.

“Would you like a sandwich for lunch? My dad said often the guys don’t bring that much with them to eat, I wouldn’t mind making you a sandwich too?”

She’s not sure why she feels the need to take him in and care for him but she does. She wants to wrap him up in a hug and make his meals and tuck him in at night. He just has this aura that calls for love and she desperately wants to give it to him.

He leans forward and kisses her, she kisses back instinctively and reaches to hold his face. His cheeks are soft as she runs her thumb along the skin, she pulls back only to press a few more pecks to his lips.

“You're something else,” he whispers against her lips before stealing another kiss.

He’s sweet, he tastes like vanilla ice cream and she just wants more. She kisses him again and again, eventually licking at his bottom lip and desperately whining to make out with him. She hasn’t felt this needy since she was a high schooler, but something in Chip made her feel alive.

She is leaning so far into his space she might as well get into his seat too. She moves to kiss his jaw and down his neck and he’s nothing but hands as he feels all over her back.

“Do you want to come inside?” He whispers, scared but just as desperate as she is.

“I shouldn’t,” she says before continuing her trail of kisses down his neck.

She can’t leave any marks because her father will know, but she also doesn’t care. He’d probably just give him a high five and move on with his day. She wanted to be even closer to him, she wanted to sit in his lap and kiss him for hours just because she could.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he tries to persuade her, “it just might be more comfortable for this?”

“Alright.”

He holds her hand on the walk up to his apartment, she likes how much he already feels like hers. He shows her inside and before the door is even closed she’s connecting their lips once again. He moans into her mouth at the feeling of his back colliding with the door and her hands are immediately roaming his shirt.

He’s such a good kisser, he is gentle and soft, he isn’t overly eager and controlling. He lets her explore and slow it down as she presses in closer to him and his hands wander to her hips. She places one of her thighs between his and grinds herself even closer to him.

He’s hard against her hip and the prospect of sleeping with him is so enticing but she knows she can't, at least not yet. It would be too quick, she wants to just appreciate him like this. Her kisses trail from his lips to his ear and he’s still a whining mess, but he’s completely still as she sets the pace of her grinding. He’s not pushing her to do anything or move this along, he’s just letting her explore everywhere… he’s so different.

“I don’t want to have to do laundry tonight,” he whispers with a smirk, moving his hands down to block her from grinding on his erection anymore.

She just undoes his belt and pushes his jeans to the floor before resuming the same position as before, this time she pulls her dress up and rests the clothed tip of his cock in just the right spot under her.

He’s holding her closer again, his arms wrapping almost all the way around her as his big hands grab handfuls of her skin in a desperate attempt to be closer to her. She keeps kissing his neck, they’re more open-mouthed and breathy than she intends but he just feels so good under her.

No one has ever made her feel this desperate before, something about him made her want to devour him whole. His sounds were delicious, his skin even more so, she couldn’t help herself from nipping and sucking at his neck as he made more beautiful noises.

She was so close and she could tell he wasn’t far behind, “let go, Chip,” she whispers in his ear, “cum with me.”

She grinds down hard one final time and he’s a shaking, moaning mess. It’s the feeling of the wet patch in his underwear and the feeling of him shudder that sends her over the edge, panting into his neck as they hold each other close against the door.

He turns them around, taking her by the waist and manhandling her until she’s the one against the door. His lips are on her neck and it’s like his orgasm has only enticed him to go further, “you’re too good to me.”

“You deserve good things Chip,” she whispers as her hand comes up to grip his hair as he continues to kiss her neck.

“Let me say thank you,” he whispers as he drops to his knees and pushes her dress up as she reaches to pull it up for him.

She spreads her legs as he moves her panties to the side and dives in. Spreading her with two fingers he sucks her clit into his mouth first and she tugs on his hair so tight he moans against her. Sending another shockwave through her body as he built another orgasm up.

He’s so good with his mouth, her legs are quaking as she tries to stay standing against the door. She can feel him everywhere but it’s still not enough, she wants him deep inside of her but she knows it’s way too soon to even be doing this. She has never gone this fast with someone before but she couldn’t stop, he felt too amazing.

“Chip,” she chanted his name, tugging on his hair tighter to get him to moan against her and send her over the edge once again.

She ruts against his tongue, fucking his face as she rides it out and he is more than happy to keep going as long as she wants him to and it feels so good she might just stay there. But the twitches get too intense and the whine she makes lets him know she’s done as he kisses back up her body.

Supporting her against the door, he presses his body against her once more. Taller than her, he tilts her chin up so she can look him in the eyes, his chin and nose are glistening with her cum and somehow he’s still cute.

She kisses him on the lips quickly, “when I can feel my legs again, I need to head home.”

When she leaves, she just sits in her car for a few minutes as she settles even more. Then she heads to the grocery store on the way home to get nice things for his sandwich tomorrow, because any man who can make her cum twice in 10 minutes deserves the best sandwich.

—

Waking up at 6 in the morning to make sandwiches is normally a chore, she sometimes makes them the night before so she doesn’t have to worry and can sleep in, this morning she wants to put all the tender loving care into these lunches. Her dad has noticed, he’s eyeing her down from the living room as he has his morning cereal and she knows he wants to ask.

“I didn’t sleep with him if that’s what you’re wondering.” Her voice is just loud enough for him to shoot her a listening glance.

“Oh, but you’re making him a sandwich?”

“You should see his apartment complex,” her expression drops, “ and after the way he devoured dinner last night, I just knew he hasn’t been taken care of in forever. And he’s so nice?”

He smiles, “your mom did the same thing for me.”

“You’ve never told me the story,” she reminds him.

He gets up and walks over to the kitchen, leaning against the counter so they can look at each other. His expression is soft, he’s an overly kind man and it was the thing she loved most about him.

“Your grandfather and I worked at a company making refrigerators, I was new to the state and had nothing and so he brought me home for dinner,” he smiles at the memory.

“Her parents got divorced soon after and her mom was having trouble with the bills so I moved in and I helped, and every morning your mom woke up and she made me a sandwich as a thank you.”

“Oh,” she smiled at the recollection, they really were having the same little love story. “Well, I’m thinking about making fish for dinner, would you ask Chip if he likes it? I’ve invited him over for dinner after all his shifts with you.”

He laughs in a huff, he’s proud of her— and himself. He finally found a good one for her.

—

She outdoes herself for dinner. The food is amazing, the table is set, and she’s all dolled up for him. Her dad thinks it’s cute and he doesn’t mind being the third wheel, they all talk to each other like he’s been having dinner with them for years.

He helps clean up after dinner and her dad falls asleep watching Jeopardy in the living room like normal. She wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head on his back while he’s still doing the dishes, he’s still all sweat from work but she doesn’t care, she wants to give him a hug.

“What’s this for?” He whispers, placing a wet hand over hers on his stomach.

“Do I need a reason to hug you?” She counters.

“No,” he turns around in her grip so that he can give her a real hug. Wet hands on her back and everything.

She held him there, leaning against him as he leaned against the sink. His heartbeat was quick and he still smelled like sawdust and hard work, but he was warm and soft and it felt so right to just be there.

“Are you working with my dad tomorrow?”

“I will be for the rest of the month,” he confirms her hopes; he was going to be around often.

“Would it be alright if I asked you to stay the night?” She whispers incredibly soft for only him to hear.

He nods against her before taking her hand and leading her outside to the porch. They close the house door softly and then she’s back in his arms, “are you sure?”

She looks up at him and he’s even more beautiful today than he was yesterday, “I can take you back to your place to get some things? It would be nice to send you off to work in the morning.”

“You’ve decided that I’m yours now, haven’t you?” He teased her with a smile, perfectly fine with that.

She nods again, “you could move in tomorrow if you wanted, I’m not sure what’s possessed me to take you in like this, but I really don’t want to let you go.”

He delicately places his hands on her cheeks and pulls her into a kiss, it’s soft and short and he’s quick to look at her again.

“You can have me,” he whispers, “forever, if you want.”

It makes her laugh, “that's the sweetest con you know, you promise yourself to me forever and yet you have no idea if you can stay that long.”

He nods in agreement, “what if I promise my hardest to stay?”

“Okay,” she smiles again, leaning forward and kissing him again, finally.

—

The month is coming to an end and he’s slept beside her almost every single night, and even with that, they’re still taking it slow. They go on dates on the weekends, they make out in her car, he drives her to work, she kisses him at the door every morning he stays with them and they’ve done almost everything but have sex together.

They didn’t feel the need to yet, everything that was leading up to it was fun and interesting. She’s enjoyed sneaking around with him to get each other off back and forth, like an adult game of tag.

She’d blow him in the car on the way back to his apartment after dinner, or he’d come and pick her up after a shift at the diner only for them to end up making out in by the back door, and his hand always ended up in her panties. It was an interesting month of getting to know each other, but she wanted more now.

Her dad is going out of town on a fishing trip with his buddies this weekend, she’s booked time off and Chip has no idea what is in store for him. She plans a dinner, she gets all dressed up for him, there are candles and music and it’s perfect.

He’s amazed by the whole thing and she can really tell he’s been mostly alone for his whole life, he looks at a simple home-cooked meal like it was a million dollars and he was beyond grateful for everything. He almost cries he’s so thankful for the time and effort she puts into taking care of him.

He goes to pick up the plates and bring them to the kitchen as soon as their meal is over, “ah, ah, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Cleaning up for you?” Chip answers with a nervous tone that she hasn’t heard before.

“Don’t you want dessert?”

“I can bring it out for you, stay there,” he offers and then frowns when she stands anyway.

“You’re looking at it,” she whispers as she enters his space.

She takes the dishes from his hands and places them on the counter before wrapping her arms around him, “my dad isn’t going to be home until Sunday night.”

“Oh,” he whispers back before his hands reach for her ass and he’s picking her up.

Her legs wrap around his waist and she grips his shoulders for dear life as he hurries them up the stairs and towards her bedroom.

He’s incredibly strong for such a skinny guy, although he was filling out the longer he knew her. He makes it up the stairs and through her door as she gets a head start at kissing his neck until he has her pressed against the door.

“What’s with you and doors?” She teases as he rests her back on her feet, she draws him in closer to her so their chests are pressed together and she can look up into those sweet honey brown eyes.

“I’m just impatient.”

“Too bad, baby,” she teases, “I’m making you take your time with me tonight.”

“Yes ma’am,” he responded with a smirk, “I’m here to please you,” he whispered as he leaned in more.

Attaching his lips to her neck he kissed towards her ear, “to thank you,” he took a fistful of her hair and moved it out of the way before kissing down towards her shoulder. “To show you how much I appreciate everything you do for me.”

She pushed him back enough to get Chip to stop kissing her neck, instead, pressing her lips against his. Kissing him deeply before running her tongue across Chip’s bottom lip as a request to make out with him.

Making out with Chip was something she did often, yet it felt like not enough every time. His plump lips and velvety soft tongue, soft touches and rough stubble rubbing against her chin and cheeks.

He smelled like oak after a storm, it was warm and electric and delicious. She dipped her face into the curve of Chip’s neck and took a whiff before attacking him with open-mouthed kisses.

He giggled, his hands her hips now, the pads of his fingers going up and his nails trailing back down over the fabric of her dress, the perfect motion to make the hair on her body stand up.

She reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, separating from his neck so she had room to pull it off of him before reconnected their mouths. Kissing him deeply then pushing him onto the bed, watching Chip get comfortable before she crawled on top.

They wasted no time getting back into the groove of things, tongues clashing and hips grinding, soft moans in each other's mouths, hands roaming everywhere. She reached between them to undo his belt and the button of his jeans so his dick wasn’t rubbing against the zipper. Making out like that was some of the most fun she ever had, she could do it for hours on end.

She pulled back, kneeling above Chip, she grabbed his open belt and pulled it through all the loops and chucked it towards the floor. She massaged her hand over the bulge in his pants as she got closer to his crotch, watching as Chip threw his head back to moan.

She fiddled with the waistband, wanting to pull them down, Chip lifted his ass up ever so slightly for her to do so, she pulled his pants and boxers all the way off and threw them to the floor as well. Spreading Chip’s legs and taking him in her hand, finally. She dipped down ever so slightly and licked the tip and he let out a beautiful cry as his hips bucked. She loved his noises, she loved seeing what new ones she could make and he was more than willing to show her.

Chip gasped and reached out to grip her hair, she took that as an invitation to suck his dick, she wrapped her mouth around the tip, slipping her way down as far as she could go before bobbing back up. It was slow and sensual, she made sure to cover all of him; jerking what didn’t fit in her mouth, dipping down even further to kiss his balls and suck one into her mouth.

The people she’s been with before had never been reactive, they either gave her praise or roughly directed her deeper and deeper till she choked. Chip was different though, making soft noises that sounded like ‘yes’ and ‘god’, his little gasps and stutters of breath were the cutest things. It just encouraged her to do it more.

She pulled off, looking up at Chip who was just staring at her softly. If she knew anything about giving a blowjob she knew what her face probably looked like.. eyes blown out in passion and lips swollen bright red. It was a sight he loved to see, his hand slipped down to cup her cheek and then down to his chin where he used his thumb to brush her bottom lip.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.

She crawled back up and sat on his hips, taking the hem of her dress in her hands and pulling it over her head. She was wearing a nice matching underwear set for him, nothing too fancy because she knew it would just end up on the floor anyway.

She leaned back down, attaching their mouths once again, he wrapped his arms around her back and slowly rolled them over safely. Now on top of her, looking up into Chip’s eyes was a blessing. He blinked a few times, making sure it was real and he wasn’t dreaming that the most beautiful girl in the world was looking at him like that.

“What do you want me to do?” He asked gently with pleading eyes that let her know he was desperate to touch her however she pleased.

“Make me yours, Chip.”

“I think you always have been,” he replied.

His beautiful sweaty curls drooping over his eyes, she smiled as she brushed them back. Petting his face softly as she looked at him, he was so beautiful. The light was bouncing off the wall just enough to illuminate him.

“How do you want to do it?” She whispered.

“Let’s just go where the rhythm takes us,” Chip’s voice dropped low as he did, pressing their chests together, close enough to kiss as he rubbed their noses together softly.

She kissed him, wrapping her hands around his neck and pulling him in more. He squeezed his arms between her back and the mattress, wrapping himself around her. he decided to reach into her panties with his free hand.

He took a moment to admire her chest, she had caught him staring before. He constantly used them as a pillow, he wanted to touch them so badly, so she leaned forward and let him unhook her bra. Pulling it from her body and towards the floor.

She could sense his hesitation, taking both his hands off her sides and guiding them to her breasts. He whimpered as he felt them, she closed her eyes at the feeling. A small moan escaping her lips as he groped her. His big hands felt amazing, so strong and gentle, rough and yet soothing. Perfection against her skin.

She leaned back against the bed then, leaving him sitting up on her hips. Her boobs flattening out into a funny shape as she laid back, making her smirk in embarrassment. Only making Chip love them more, diving in and kissing the newly exposed skin.

He dragged his bottom lip over her skin between kisses. Leaving a trail of where he’s been already. She had a hand in his hair, holding it out of his face as she watched him.

Panting as she tried to grind up against him, the arousal in her core was overpowering. She needed to feel more, she wanted all of him. She was addicted to him already, hoping she’ll have forever with him.

She was too hot, feeling the sweat gather behind her knees as she tried to find more friction against him. She didn’t mind all the exploring he was doing, it was a wonderful appetizer, but she was nowhere close to being full.

He pulled back then to sit on his knees between her legs before Chip slowly slipped her underwear off. Raising her hips softly before resting her ass back in his lap and spreading her legs.

Fully on display for him, she played with her nipples slightly. Knowing how much he loved her boobs, watching her with a slack jaw as his hands ran up her legs.

He snapped back into the moment when she pushed her ass down against him, a whimper slipping past his lips as he placed his thumb on her clit, rubbing gentle circles into the bundle of nerves.

With his pointer finger, on the other hand, he traced around her entrance, not pushing in, just exploring the wetness as it dripped out. She tightened up on command, seeing his breath hitch as his finger almost slipped in.

“Please?” She begged, arching her back more so that he could finger her.

“Can we try something?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, resting on her forearms as she leaned forward.

“If I lay back would you, um,” he couldn’t say the words. They felt too filthy leaving his mouth, pointing at his face instead.

She sat up then, pushing him back against the pillows and settling herself over his chest and gripping the headboard for support, Chip wrapped his arms around her hips and guided her forward more.

Her legs were already trembling in anticipation as she hovered over his face, feeling his breath right on her core, Without warning, he sucked her clit into his mouth.

“Fuck,” she gasped as she smacked her forehead against the blocked window behind her bed, hoping to god no one could see through the blinds.

He pushed one finger in as his tongue played with her clit. She couldn’t help rocking her hips against his face, helping him get deeper inside of her. He curled his finger, lightly fucking her with it as he sucked, licked, kissed her pussy.

She was a mess, shaking over top of him as she tried to keep her orgasm in. Not wanting to cum yet, wanting to feel all of him inside of her before she did that. So he added a second finger, making her cry out in pleasure against the window without even trying.

Her orgasm ripped through her as she fucked his face, holding his hair with one hand as the other steadied her on the headboard. She couldn’t believe how intense it was, almost knocking the wind out of her as she road it out on his tongue.

He smiled against her, kissing her clit once more before pulling out and helping her back towards his lap. She wasted no time hovering over his cock as it strained on his stomach.

“Do you want to?” She asked, trying to control her breathing but still looking like a panting mess as she anticipated him.

“I’ll always want you,” he assures her with the sweetest smile.

She wraps her arms around him and rolls them over once more, he adjusts between her legs and drags himself along her overstimulated clit, she shudders at the feeling and then laughs at her own reaction.

“Ready?” He whispered.

She nodded, feeling Chip push in, she reached for his hands where they rested on her hips and interlocked their fingers. He bottomed out and dropped to hover over her, bringing their interlocked hands over her head.

She reached up to kiss him, Chip pushing into the kiss and making her settle into the pillow once again. It honestly felt like a movie scene, a first time between two star-crossed lovers. He pulled out ever so slightly before thrusting in again, she gasped against his mouth.

Chip trusted more while she pushed her hips into it as well, an offbeat rhythm developed in pure ecstasy. She let go of Chip’s hands to snake them around his waist, to run her fingers over the soft and slightly chilled skin of his back. Feeling the bump of his spine as Chip ducked into the crook of her neck, placing kisses along her collarbone.

Chip changed the position of his thrust as he wrapped his arms under her, arching her back ever so slightly to reach the bundle of nerves that left her a quivering mess. Y/N, in response to the added pleasure, ran her sharp nails down Chip’s back and he groaned at the feeling, “do that again.” he requested.

“Like that?” She asked, dragging his nails down him once more.

“Yeah,” Chip moaned, dark and deep.

The feeling of pure bliss overtook her body with each thrust, warm chills ran through him with each brush of his thumb on her clit. Every kiss to her neck and squeeze around her waist made her feel like she was on fire.

The hairs on her arms stood up, goosebumps formed along his forearms. Chip kissed from her neck to her nipple and took the hard nib into his mouth causing her to moan like she never had before.

“Chip,” she panted, pulling Chip’s face back up to his.

His eyes were absolutely blown out in pleasure, those golden wonders he used to stare into were now replaced solely by the pupils. She ran her thumb across Chip’s cheek before reaching to the nape of his neck to pull him into another kiss. Open mouths pressing together, hot air on each other's faces as they panted to the pleasure.

She was in heaven.

Her orgasm bubbled in her stomach, “are you close?” Chip whispered right beside her mouth, kissing her cheek lightly after.

She hummed, unable to speak with the mass amount of pleasure coursing through her body. Chip fucked into her a bit harder, a tiny bit faster, hitting her g-spot dead on each time to the point the nerves in her thighs were quaking uncontrollably.

She was so close, Chip used 3 fingers to quickly rub over her clit before she threw her head back with a shout. Cumming with her eyes pressed shut, pleasure coursed through her body stronger than she’s ever felt it before.

Nothing had ever made her cum that hard, ripping through her like her soul was leaving her body. She dug her nails deep into Chip’s skin holding him close to his body while he kept thrusting.

A high-pitched gasp left his lips, close to her ear as his hips sputtered into her’s one last time.

She still hadn’t opened her eyes, her breath rigid, she felt winded. Chip had stilled as he came inside of her and then collapsed into her, deadweight laying on her.

Chip mustered enough energy to prop himself upon his arm and look at her. Using his free hand he ran his thumb against her bottom lip once more to get her to open her eyes.

“Hi,” he whispered.

“Hi,” she replied with a smile.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded, smile growing, “that was amazing.”

“Better than you hoped?”

“I’ve thought of doing this for the last month, I knew it would be amazing but I never imagined it would be that good.” she complimented Chip, “I think I died when I came, no joke.”

He laughed, dropping himself back into the crook of her neck. He kissed her more, up to her ear and across her jaw to her lips. Soft small kissed followed by a long-drawn-out one. Chip pulled their lips apart with a smack.

“Let me clean us up,” he said.

At that moment she realized Chip was still in her, soft and all. He pulled out slowly it was always such a weird feeling to be empty again. He sat up and made his way off the bed, he went to her bathroom.

Coming back still naked, his dick bobbing between his legs, she loved the view. He had a thing of baby wipes with him, knowing exactly where she kept everything in her bathroom by now.

“I can do it,” she suggested, reaching for them.

Chip pulled them back away from her, “I want to.” he said softly.

Running the cold wipe over her soft skin, Chip looked mesmerized. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” she replied with a shy smile, “can you come back up here now?”

He tossed the wipes onto her night table and cuddled right back into her naked body, she held onto him tightly so he wouldn’t escape. She knew he wouldn’t, but she loved him so much she never wanted to let go.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered into her neck. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same yet.”

“Are you kidding?” She laughed, pulling back so she could see his face as he looked up at her. “I think I’ve been in love with you since you walked in and said I was beautiful.”

He reaches for her cheeks and pulls her in for another kiss, “I’m going to love you forever.”

The words used to scare her, but now she looks at him and thinks they might be right for them.

“Forever it is, then.”

taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk @thatsonezesty13

[with-love-from-hell]

Vermillion Skies

{part Twenty-Four}

Fandom: Obey me!

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Pairing: Mc x Lucifer (pre-established relationship)

Written for F!MC

Music Accompaniment

WC: ~6.3k

TRIGGER WARNING FOR ALL PARTS: graphic depictions of sexual assault / rape, gore, and violence.

CW: Mentions of ch. 23′s NSFW content & suggestive language, graphic depictions of physical violence, blood, gore, body horror, possessiveness, second-hand embarrassment, swearing, jealousy, romantic rivalry, mild gaslighting/manipulation, verbal altercation, restraining, accusations of sexuak assault, depictions associated with past rape and sexual violence, alcohol use / intoxication

>> Though I have a Masters Degree in Psychology, I am not your therapist. If you have experienced any form of sexual abuse, assault, or harassment and are in need of help, please utilize the RAINN sexual assault hotline or online chat service, or find additional help using the NSVRC website. <<

Just a reminder, that the Q&A will be going live before the finale! I am still accepting questions related to it for the next few days. Also, the depiction of Michael in here is just how I headcanon he looks- if there’s any official art you can disregard my descriptions. Expect the finale to be out sometime next week! (Also enjoy another inconsistent release haha). Also there's lots of typos in this one that I've tried to fix but tumblr is being a butt so sorry for that!

You can find any future parts by searching the tag #vermillion skies on my blog! I have added it to all parts!

Read part 23 here

Read the Q&A post for parts 1-9 here!

Read the Q&A post for parts 10-15 here!

Read the Q&A post for parts 15-24 here!

Lucifer breathed deeply, watching contently as your body rises and falls on top of him as the air cycled through his lungs. Your head was placed just above his heart, and your hands rested delicately on his hips as you slept. You seemed so peaceful in this moment, with such a delicate smile plastered on your lips. He had been laying with you post coitus for over an hour, though sleep had taken over you quickly. At first, Lucifer was worried that you expelled too much energy during your lovemaking, rendering you fatigued...but as he watched you sleep, he saw no signs of exhaustion like he had in the recent weeks. 

A smile crept across his lips as he continued running his hands through your hair. Your words of adoration for him continuously ran through his head, causing him to feel warm and bubbly all over. The feeling of your bodies touching in such a vulnerable way, a sign that you trusted him so wholly- was intoxicating. If he could, he would bask in the afterglow forever with you, but he knew that the others would probably come looking for you shortly if he didn’t give them an explanation for your sudden absence. 

He carefully maneuvered your body off of his, being extra cautious not to wake you. He laid your head down on the pillow, lingering his fingers on your cheek for a moment. He brushed over the outline of your jaw before placing a gentle kiss on your temple, whispering words of love in your ear. After a fleeting moment where he contently observed the beauty encompassed by your nude form and the evidence of your intimacy, he tucked you in under the silken duvet. 

 While he thought you’d maybe like to return to the party, a decent bit of sleep could do you some good. Besides, you had spent so long mingling, you were probably tired of putting on a face for the acquaintances in attendance, and having to be overly formal with everyone. Lucifer crept quietly about the room, cleaning himself off as best he could before dressing back in his suit. He tried desperately to make it seem like nothing had taken place, mostly so Asmodeus wouldn’t be able to chastise him for what you’d both been up to- but also because he didn’t want any accusing stares from anyone else...namely Simeon. 

Lucifer had been eyeing the Angel all night, seeing him watch you both while he thought neither of you were paying attention. Something about the way he was looking at you made his chest burn with anger- as if he was undressing you with his eyes. And after what Satan had told him about Simeon’s behavior toward you when Lucifer was absent, he was convinced the Angel was seeking an opportunity to do something...what though, he wasn’t quite sure. 

He sighed fighting a mixture of jealousy and fear within his heart as he fixed his hair in the mirror. He knew Simeon liked you...Well, anyone with eyes could see that- except you apparently...And why wouldn’t he? You were wonderful. If Lucifer and his other brothers had fallen for you, it made sense to him whenever anyone else did too. But given the way Simeon was acting, it was as if your love hadn’t been procured by the first born at all, and that infuriated him. And while he didn’t blame you for entertaining it- given you clearly didn’t know of Simeon’s motives- it still caused a fire to burn inside him. The small hand kisses, the hugs that lasted a little too long, and the tender looks given to you should be reserved for him, and him alone. 

Lucifer sighed, shaking the thoughts from his head. There was no need for jealousy. You loved him; you chose him...and he needed to remember that. After a few deep breaths, he was calm again- thinking of your gentle touch and the way you looked at him- and only him- amongst a see of demons fighting for your attention. The anger reducing techniques he had been using were truly paying off in managing his emotions, and he had you to thank for that. 

After fixing himself to the point where he figured he’d be inconspicuous, Lucifer quietly made his way out of the room, being extra careful not to wake you. He paused in the hall, feeling a lingering density in the air that he couldn’t quite place. Something about it felt very unsettling. Lucifer stole a glance back at you, whispering a protection spell over the room before closing the door silently and making his way down the spiral staircase. 

The dense discomfort only grew stronger as he finally reached the bottom of the stairs. While there was still music coming from the ballroom, he was shocked to not hear any distinct chatter amongst the guests like when he left, with the exception of  what sounded like distant arguing. As he turned and entered the room, he was greeted with all of the guests circled around a small group of individuals near the bar. He could see Diavolo, Solomon, and Luke seemingly cornering another individual, but he couldn’t quite see who it was. 

Lucifer cocked his head curiously as he watched Luke run off toward the kitchen, tears streaming down his cheeks. He began approaching as Mammon stormed over to the group, pushing Solomon out of the way and seemingly yelling at the other individual who he had seemingly knocked to the ground.

“Oi! What the hell is your problem? That boy’s been nothin but good to ya, and ya treat him like that? Get ahold of yourself!” 

Lucifer sighed and rolled his eyes upon hearing Mammon yelling, creating an even bigger scene as the guests began to murmur amongst themselves. He was annoyed that anyone would choose to start problems on such an important day- one with so many observants. 

“Bold words comin’ from an unlovable fool.” 

Lucifer’s nose twitched in anger. Who in their right mind would dare say such a thing to his brother? As he got closer, he could see Simeon collapsed on the ground, a smirk playing on his lips as Mammon struggled to maintain composure. Lucifer felt his heart leap into his throat, realizing the angel was the source of the problem.

“Ya really think you will win over Mc like this? She’d probably spit on ya if she saw how you were treatin’ her family.”

As Simeon scrambled to his feet and pushed Mammon hard, Lucifer’s eyes widened. Lucifer felt intense anger at the fact Simeon thought to lay a single finger on any member of his family after what happened to you. His blood boiled as Mammon stumbled backwards with the force the angel came at him with. 

“Keep her name out your mouth, scumbag!”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists, having experienced quite enough of this nonsense. He had sufficient information now to realize Simeon was the cause of the halt in the celebration, and he was furious that only being gone for an hour and a half had caused such problems. Though, he was simultaneously glad you weren’t here to bear witness to a fight amongst those you cared so deeply about. After all, this was supposed to be about you, and celebrating your recovery- not anything else. He pushed through the crowd as Beelzebub tried to separate the two from each other, though the rage brewing between them could be felt for miles. 

“I think that’s quite enough!” Lucifer’s deep voice reverberated through the ballroom with an intensity that nearly made the walls quake. The remaining few patrons standing by and gawking were now scrambling to exit his path.

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

You awoke to find Lucifer had left you alone, but this time you weren’t concerned. You stretched, reaching your arms up toward the canopy of the bed before flopping them back down. You felt well rested- the first time in weeks that you could truly say that. Figuring Lucifer had just gone back down to the party, you decide to get up and run yourself a bath. As you make your way to the bathroom, you feel the ground tremble below you. At first you weren’t sure if you were hallucinating, and shrugged it off. But after a second, more violent tremor in the ground, you grew worried about what was happening. 

You quickly throw on your underwear and tie one of the silk thigh-length robes around your torso before making your way down the spiral stairs. You begin to feel your heart race as you approach the ballroom, hearing intense thrashing and the sounds of yelling. Before you could enter though, you hear a knocking sound against the window next to you. 

You jump, frightened by the sound initially, but then you make out what appears to be...Mammon. You open push open the part of the window meant to let breezes into the hall, helping Mammon wriggle through. As you yank him through the remaining way, you lose your balance and he topples over you, pinning you to the ground. 

He immediately scans you for injuries before pulling you up into his arms, taking you the opposite way of the ballroom without saying a word. His expression looks panicked, and you could see twigs and leaves sticking out of various places in his hair and clothes. 

“Mammon! Hey!” You squeal. “Stop- let me down!” 

Mammon pauses, looking at you with a puzzled expression. You furrow your brow back at him, indicating you were confused. He sighs, shaking his head before pressing onward. 

“Hey- I-” You yell pushing on his chest in an attempt to get out of his arms, but he only clutches you tighter and increases his speed. You sigh, residing yourself to using your pact. “Put me down, now!” 

Mammon suddenly halts, hissing as his arms shakily release you so you are put on your feet. He stares at you, bewildered that you would do such a thing despite what was happening in the ballroom. “Mc, have ya lost your mind?!” 

You blink a few times before throwing your hands up in exasperation. “Mammon, what the hell are you talking about? What’s going on?!” 

Suddenly, Mammon realizes you had no knowledge of what was transpiring behind him. Before he could speak, you hear an intense scream, followed by the sounds of furniture crashing. Your heart leaps to your throat as you glance between Mammon and the end of the hall behind him. 

“What...what’s going on?” Your voice was quieter and more panicked. The scream had sounded like Simeon, but you couldn't be sure. You begin to speed walk back toward the ballroom, but are yanked back by the arm roughly. 

“Ow! What the- Mammon!” You snap, your eyes meeting his with intense concern behind them, though you are taken aback by the terrified expression held on Mammon’s face. “Please...tell me what’s going on.” 

Mammon opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. You sigh, pulling yourself out of his grasp and running toward the ballroom. Based on his reaction, and the plethora of unsettling sounds you had heard, you expected the worst. What you didn’t expect to see though, was Lucifer being strangled by Simeon- or, who you assumed to be Simeon...he looked much different than before you left the party. His wings were nearly all bone and membrane, the feathers only remaining in inconsistent splotches along either wing. Antlers curled back around his head, and his usually well-kept fingernails were now jagged claws. He had sharp fangs, similar to that of a demons. 

You shouted to him, catching the attention of everyone in the room, who were almost not convinced you were there. You ran to Simeon, trying to pull his arms away from Lucifer’s neck- only to be faced with a deep, guttural growl. Suddenly, you were thrown through the air, finally put to rest by a pillar. Your head slammed against the marble hard, causing your vision to turn white for a moment and your ears began to ring. You weren’t sure how long you were dazed for, but when you could see again, you met stare of the gaunt-looking Angel- who you now realized was an angel no more. 

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

Simeon felt his nose twitch up in disgust as Lucifer angrily approached him and Mammon. The anger he had been feeling toward...well...everyone, was steadily rising in his chest as the first borne glanced briefly at him with vexation worn transparently on his face. Simeon scoffed at him, earning a raised eyebrow as he made the decision to speak his mind- a decision that Diavolo knew he would come to regret. 

“Oh, well if it isn’t Mr. High n’ Mighty himself.” Simeon spat, abandoning Mammon and instead posturing toward the eldest brother. “So nice of you to finally join us after defiling Mc’s body for your own venereal needs.” 

Lucifer stopped dead in his tracks, his lips parted in an expression of shock as he snapped his attention toward Simeon. A slew of shocked gasps rang out amongst the crowd, including from the Demon Lord himself. 

Simeon snickered, seeing his words clearly had an impact as Lucifer stared blankly at him. He had the upper hand now, and he wasn’t about to give it up. He had been dying to have an instance of power over the eldest brother; the individual who had dictated every single one of his movements as your care was navigated...and he had enough of it. 

“What? You don’t like me pointin’ out the fact that you violated her? Frankly, I think e’ryone deserves to know that’s what you did.” Simeon crossed his arms, tilting his head at the eldest in a way that indicated he wouldn’t be letting him out from under his thumb any time soon. 

Lucifer snarled, letting his fangs show to the angel as a warning. He tried to regain his composure despite the fact that the guests were audibly discussing the fact that he had made love to you- but their perceptions were that he had done something to you, rather than with you. “You have no right sharing information on our private affairs.”

Simeon laughed loudly, overexaggerating the action by leaning forward and slapping his thigh. “Seriously? You think that’s a viable thing to say after what the other demon did to her? You could have been forcing her tado unspeakable things, how would we have known? I was doin’ your family a service to check on her wellbeing.” 

The murmurs amongst the crowd got louder, the other demons beginning to question Lucifer’s display of “care” for you as a way to keep you caged in a relationship with him. He felt the rage building within him at the words being exchanged behind his back, fighting the urge to wring Simeon’s neck for suggesting he would have even so much as thought about doing something against your will. Lucifer stayed silent, clenching his jaw as he stared Simeon down. He tried to conjure pleasant images of you; to breathe deeply like he practiced. the last thing he wanted was an all-out brawl at the party in your honor. 

Simeon shook his head, a frown returning to his features as he got right in Lucifer’s face. “You think you have so much control, but I know better. I’ve seen you lose it. You’ve scared her with your anger and you let it take over for the stupidest reasons...and I know how you nearly killed your own brother, let alone two of the other exchange students as a result of all of your instability-” 

Color drained from Lucifer’s face as Simeon continued, jabbing a finger into the center of his chest and snarling at him. “Besides, how do you expect us to believe you wouldn’t hurt her? Need I remind you of the time you almost killed her yourself? The fact that she even thought about dating someone like you after that fact is-” 

“Shut your fucking mouth.” Lucifer hissed, throwing Simeon’s hand off of his chest. He took a few steps toward him, causing Simeon to be backed completely against the bar. His breathing was ragged and his fists were clenched to the point were blood was drawn from his nails digging into palms. His body shook with rage as he fought back his demon form, which threatened to burst at any second. The murmurs behind him swirled around his head, hearing the uncertainty among the partygoers of his treatment towards you and his family, hearing them ponder if he really did just assault you tonight and discussing the newly-discovered facts that had been laid out by Simeon- namely that he had attempted to kill you in the past. 

Simeon smirked back at Lucifer, knowing any display of anger would only go in his favor. Maybe ruining Lucifer’s reputation would be enough to satiate the burning pain in his heart. His next words were spoken with intent, trying to hurt Lucifer emotionally as best he could. “After all you’ve put her through, and pressuring her stay in a place where she’s in constant danger of everyone around her- including yourself- you still think you deserve her.” 

Lucifer felt tears sting the back of his eyes but he pushed them down, turning away from Simeon to face the crowd who anxiously awaited his response. He knew he didn’t deserve you, deep down. After all he had put you through, how terribly he treated you during your first few months in Devildom- he sometimes wondered himself if you chose him out of fear of what he would do if you said no. But it was nights like tonight- when you pulled him away from something just to spend time with him- that he was reminded your decision was a conscious one. Lucifer closed his eyes and took a deep breath, doing his best to stop his voice from shaking as he basked in the warmth the thoughts of you brought him. “You’re right.” 

Simeon’s smirk fell, not expecting an agreement to be his response. He fully expected the Avatar of pride to somehow justify his actions, or explain them away, or even to become violent and prove his point...and yet he didn’t combat anything that Simeon said. Simeon felt his blood begin to boil at the fact that Lucifer’s anger seemed to just...disappear. 

“I don’t deserve her at all-” Lucifer tilted his head back toward Simeon, his eyes glossy and a small smile on his lips. “and yet she chose me anyway. Despite everything I’ve done, and over the plethora of other suitors who would beg for even a spare second of her time...She chose me.” 

 Simeon began to shake, rage building in his chest. He clenched the bar, his knuckles whitening as the first born began walking out of the ballroom. Lucifer found arguing with the drunken angel was useless, so he would just return to you and relax for the rest of the night, figuring the others could deal with a mess for once instead of him. But for Simeon, Lucifer’s nonchalant response to his attempts at hurting him only made him more angry. 

Time seemed to slow down as Simeon felt his temples burn again, the migraine from before split his head. Unbeknownst to him, small horns began pushing their way through the skin on his cranium. They were only protruding out of his skull about an inch or two, but were noticeable none the less. but blood gushed from the wounds they created, leaking down his forehead and clouding his vision in a vermillion haze. He screamed through the pain, causing the guests to begin panicking. 

Simeon’s wings unfurled from his back violently, along with a large amount of blood that splattered the patrons as they extended. Pieces of membrane and  skin hung off the radial bone and dripped from the fresh wound in his back where the wings sprouted. While they were shaped the same, something looked...wrong about them. While many of the wings remained primarily white, they looked as if they had been splattered with tar and blood. Many spaces of his wings were missing large patches of feathers, and the moist bone, muscles, and tendon were exposed under the ruptured membrane that was supposed to be covering them. Thick black feathers swirled around him as he shuddered with rage. Simeon’s nails elongated, twisting his fingers in unnatural ways as they turned into claws. He fell to his knees and as his back arched forward, the muscles spasming beneath his shuddering wings as he wailed. Fangs began extending out from his teeth, blood caking his mouth as they pushed outward from his gums. Each shriek resulted in splatters of blood joining the piles of half-black feathers on the floor. His eyes sharpened, the blue irises shuddering as his pupils turned reptilian and his sclera turned red from the blood rushing everywhere in his body. 

Luke ran into the room from the kitchen, Barbatos and little Ds in tow. Before Barbatos could shield him from the sight of his fallen brother, the small angel let out a hair-raising scream at the sight Simeon’s transformation. The rest of the crowd spouted out gasps and shrieks in horror upon seeing what appeared to be the angel’s demon form finally slipping loose. None of them had ever seen an Angel fall in front of their eyes before, many retreating outside the castle for fear of what the former angel was going to do. They assumed that if he was as volatile as the rest of the brothers, and as strong, the castle may be reduced to shambles. Others remained frozen, unsure what to do for the former angel now or how to respond.

Lucifer whipped around as he heard Luke scream, turning just in time to lock eyes with Simeon before he charged forward. Simeon displayed a speed that Lucifer had never observed from him, even during the celestial war. Lucifer managed to dart out his path as his own demon form manifested, but just in time. He lost his footing and fell into a set of tables and chairs, wine glasses and plates being shattering underneath him. Simeon skidded on the floor after missing his target, but quickly regained stability and lurched forward once again, this time plowing into Lucifer as he tried to rise to his feet.

Lucifer hissed and scrunched his eyes shut as his head slammed into the marble floor, feeling trickles of blood seep down his neck. Upon opening them, he was met with Simeon’s distorted face nearly inches away from his own. The blood from his ever-growing antlers plopped down onto Lucifer’s cheek as Simeon’s chest heaved. Lucifer blinked, trying to comprehend how Simeon had been so corrupted to the point of falling

Snapping out of their daze, The other 6 brothers ran to Lucifer’s aid. Mammon pulled back on Simeon’s wings, causing him to screech. The newly forming wings were sensitive, the pulling caused the membrane to fling off the radialie bones and splatter all over the tables as Simeon thrashed. The force of the wings beating made Mammon quickly lose his grip, and the large bone of the left wing slammed right into his chest, sending him sailing out one of the stained glass windows. Before the others could even come within 3 feet of of the fallen angel, he incoherently babbled an incantation and a shockwave rippled through the room, sending the others flying backwards, crashing into various objects. The other guests continued to flee, fear evident in their movements as they scattered toward any potential exit. 

Lucifer used his brother’s distractions as an opportunity to push Simeon off of him. He didn’t want to fight him, but Simeon was clearly more powerful now than he’d ever been...and if it came down to protecting You, Diavolo, or his other brothers, Lucifer wouldn’t hesitate to completely immobilize him. 

The two locked eyes for a moment before charging at one another, Meeting each other in a vice grip as black feathers whipped around the room. They each threw a few punches and attempted to slash at the other, but each defended or dodged the blows. They finally threw each other apart, circling the dance floor as they waited for the other to make a move.

They were stalemated at this moment, and Lucifer was frankly shocked that Simeon’s power matched his own after just falling. Lucifer knew the demon transformation process was agonizing, and took a long time to complete. He wasn’t sure how he was able to maintain such strength through the pain- but reasoned it could be the numbing effects of the alcohol. An aura of wrath, envy, and pride, and a feeling Lucifer recognized, but couldn’t quite place radiated around the former angel. He tried to reason that Simeon would likely embody one of his brothers sins after falling, but the combination of 3 plus the unknown component to the aura confused him. Regardless, the sight of Simeon in front of him was truly terrifying, and little would usually scare the eldest brother of sin. He found his mind wandering to if you were safe up in the spire.

Lucifer barely managed to brace himself as Simeon charged at him once more into him. He felt his claws dig into his forearm as Lucifer shielded his face from the attack. His shoulder strained and threaten to dislocate as Simeon pushed back on his arm. 

Luke continued wailing relentlessly into Barbatos’ side, the butler using one arm to protect the small angel and the other to hold back Diavolo from putting himself in danger. While Lucifer was clearly not using his full strength, it worried the prince that Simeon seemed to be so powerful. The other brothers were also taken aback by Simeon’s strength, and realized that they weren’t sure if even their combined powers would be enough to stop him. Pulses of energy discharged off of Simeon’s body, causing anyone who came near him to try to aid the eldest to be launched backwards. They were truly helpless, watching the struggle from afar and dodging debris from the fight. 

Lucifer wasn’t sure what Simeon’s intentions were, but right now- based on the look in his eyes- he assumed the former angel wanted to kill him. Finally residing himself to his fate, he released his full power. Lucifer’s eyes sharpened as he gripped Simeon and threw him off. Deep cuts were left in his forearm from Simeon’s jagged and unkempt claws, blood oozing out and dripping onto the floor. Lucifer shed his frock coat to offer a better range of movement, and carefully maneuvered toward Simeon, who was already on his feet. 

Simeon moved quickly, his movements almost too fast for Lucifer to process. The sound of the collision of Simeon’s fist upper cutting Lucifer’s jaw made the remaining audience shudder. Lucifer groaned as he fell to the floor, feeling his jaw click back in place as he rubbed it. He narrowed his eyes as Simeon attempted to roundhouse kick him, but his leg was caught by the eldest easily and he was thrown to the floor, giving Lucifer a moment to collect himself. 

Lucifer wasn't sure how lucid Simeon was until he heard him laugh. The former angel easily picked himself back up off the floor as he approached Lucifer once more. Simeon began speaking to him as the two circled each other once more, his voice oddly distorted from the blood sill leaking from his gums.  

“All this time, I admired her from afar. If I realized how low her standards were, I would have swooped in and took her hand from under you ages ago.” he spat blood as he talked, his teeth shimmering red under the high lights in the castle. 

Lucifer’s eye twitched in annoyance. “What makes you so sure she would reciprocate those emotions?” 

Simeon growled rushing at Lucifer in anger. In one fell swoop, Lucifer kicked Simeon's leg out from under him, grabbing him by the neck and flipping him onto his back before he hit the ground. 

"You know what? I don't think you really care why Mc chose me." Lucifer sneered. "I think you're just hurt that she chose someone else over you."

Simeon hissed, his nose twitching as he wriggled under Lucifer's hold.

"And you know what? I don't really think she'd be all that fond of you seeing your weird possessive behavior." He continued, pressing harder on his neck. "If she knew you were listening in on our intimacy tonight, I think she'd be disgusted with your behavior.” 

Simeon swallowed hard, before wheezing his retort. "I only did it for her safety."

"Did you? Because if you were really concerned I was hurting her you would have tried to interrupt. But instead you just sat behind the door and listened." Simeon's face flushed, and he looked away as Lucifer spoke. "You know what I think? I think your obsession with her has driven you to depravity."

Simeon snapped his gaze back at Lucifer and snarled, finding the strength to kick him off. He scrambled to his feet, needing an outlet for his rage. He threw a table clear across the ballroom, his chest heaving with the force of his anger.

Lucifer rose to his feet, clutching his back where shards of glass from the various broke wine glasses had crashed to the floor. The stinging pain caused him to hiss, blood stained his dress shirt, the stain growing with each attempt at movement. "You think I haven't seen the way you look at her? I wouldn’t be surprised if you were eavesdropping to try to get yourself off."

Simeon roared and charged forward, only to run straight into another set of tables as Lucifer quickly ducked out of the way.

"You really take advantage of the fact that she's oblivious to your advances." He scoffed, shaking his head. "If she knew the things you’ve done...the way you’ve treated the ones she cares about...she'd shut you down immediately."

Simeon howled in anger and lunged toward Lucifer again, this time managing to make contact as he slammed him against the wall. His chest heaved as the anger flooded out of every pore in his body. His wings continuing to loose feathers until they were nothing but a bones and membrane. He slammed Lucifer's head back again...and again...squeezing his neck in between blows as he stared into his eyes. Someone yelled in the distance, but he ignored it, squeezing Lucifer’s neck tighter until he was barely able to gasp for air. It wasn't until two gentle hands pulled back on him that he turned his rage-filled attention away from the first born.

He withdrew one arm from Lucifer and swung it backwards, knocking whoever had tried to stop him backwards at least ten feet. The yelp that resounded from their throat made Simeon’s heart jump into his throat. He whipped around, dropping Lucifer to the floor in a panic. You had hit a pillar as you were thrown across the room, the marble cracking underneath the force you hit it with. Your head spun, blood trickling down your forehead as you tried to pick yourself shakily up off the ground. Satan and Beelzebub were immediately at your side, assessing the injury as Simeon stayed frozen in horror at what he had done. When you finally caught his gaze, he saw the intense fear in your eyes as you looked at him. 

He tried to take a few steps toward you, but was grabbed by the scruff of the neck and wrestled to the floor, a boney knee digging into his back. He whimpered, the physical pain he felt from the transition starting to finally hit him. At first, he figured Lucifer was the one subduing him, but he watched as the eldest staggered past him, collapsing on the ground next to you. He took your face gently in his hands, checking you for signs of a concussion- seemingly ignoring the fact that his own hair was dampened with his own blood. Simeon watched as Lucifer pulled you into his chest and shielded you with his wings, his eyes showing an intense fury as he glared at Simeon. 

Simeon squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before turning his head to the broken glass on the floor next to him. He gasped when he saw his reflection in the crystal, seeing long antler-like horns curling out of his head and extending backwards. He could also see the fangs coated in blood, and his reptilian-like eyes gawking back at him from the reflection. His face looked gaunt, and his tattered suit and nearly featherless wings matched that aesthetic. He felt tears begin to well up in his eyes as he snapped his panicked gaze toward Lucifer, finally realizing what had become of him.

A familiar set of legs appeared in front of him, blocking his line of sight. The white and gold boots were caked in a mixture of blood, scraps of food, membrane, and feathers. As Simeon looked up to meet the eyes of his superior, he knew that he would finally be facing judgement for his corruption. 

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

“Are you alright, Darling?” Lucifer cooed as he helped you to your feet. His wings continued to block your vision of what was happening, though you could hear an unfamiliar angry voice chastising Simeon as he pleaded for Mercy. Your vision spun slightly and you stumbled a bit, finding it difficult to stay on your feat as a result of the blow to the head. 

He sighed, doing his best to try to stabilize you. He stole another glance back toward Simeon, still feeling rage at the fact that he dared to lay a hand on you, but also feeling a strange sense of pity for the newly fallen Angel. Something about the way he looked gave Lucifer a pit in his stomach, again feeling an aura that he couldn’t quite place. For now though, he didn’t care. He just wanted to ensure your safety. 

You glance over to the royals and Luke, who stood next to the unfamiliar man. He was about as tall as Diavolo, wearing a mostly white and gold military-looking uniform. He had straw-like blonde hair that came down to his shoulders, some of it tied back in a loose pony tail. He had three sets of white puffy wings and a shimmering halo over his head, so you could reasonably assume he was an angel. When he turned his head briefly to look toward you, you noticed he was wearing thin glasses. His irises were dark brown, and a glint of resentment could be seen flashing in them as he glared at you. Lucifer held you tighter to his chest, shielding you away once more with his wings. 

You looked up to him, seeing his nose shuddering as he tried to hold back a snarl. Clearly he knew the man, and your only assumption at this point in time was that he was the famed Michael you had heard so much about, but you were only driving off of context clues from those around you. 

Another individual who you assumed to be an angel had Simeon pinned to the floor. He glared at you as you passed him by, but Lucifer quickly hurried you along so you didn’t have time to observe much of him. He himself had a pair of white wings, but his uniform was much more barren in nature, and consisted of hues of green, black, and blue. His greyish bangs shielded most of his eyes, but you could catch a glimpse of the dark blue irises before you rounded the corner to return to the bedchamber. 

The walk up the stairs was mostly silent. Lucifer lifted you to the best of his abilities, given he was also injured, but you could tell he was near collapsing when you reached the top of the stairs. You tried to ask him questions about the other angels you saw, but Lucifer only hushed you, noting that you would discuss the matters later. He appeared to be unhappy with you, and you felt anxiety rising at the idea that you somehow did something wrong. 

Once you finally reached the bedroom, he collapsed on the bed, pulling you down with him. Lucifer breathed deeply, a wheeze passing by his lips as he exhaled as a result of the injury to his throat. you traced your fingers along his neck, feeling an ache in your heart at the way Simeon had ruthlessly tried to kill him.

Lucifer clutched your hand, bringing it to a rest over his heart. You stared into each others eyes for a moment, until you felt tears slowly begin to trail down your cheeks. You pressed your throbbing head to Lucifer’s chest, weeping quietly as he held you. He whispered words of reassurance, reminding you that things would be okay...but you couldn’t help the helpless feeling in your chest when you thought about the fate of the angel you once called a friend. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FINALE

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