#is it really friendship without a little public humiliation

[daiziesssart]

"uh i can explain"

[worldlxvlys]

ANNA. GIRL. I HAVE THE BEST IDEA EVER.

ok, so I was just listening to one of the girls by the Weeknd and I need the filthiest, most pantie soaking, mouth watering, sheet gripping smut about chris based off that song. only if you want though LMAO. also probably really unpopular opinion but chris is most DEFINITELY the dominant one during sex. anyway love you pretty girl!!

one of the girls

fwb! chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: smuttttt, semi-public sex, roughhhh sex, choking, slapping, spitting, degradation, dumbification, p in v, cream pie, unprotected sex, squirting, fingering, overstimulation, humiliation, recording, cursing

a/n: have your holy water on standby y’all

lock me up and throw away the key

he knows how to get the best of me

chris and i’s friendship was anything but normal. to some, it may even be perceived as toxic.

but me? i loved it.

i trusted him enough to do whatever he wanted to me, no matter how extreme.

tell nobody i control you

i broke you just to own you

they can’t tell that i love you

‘cause you’re loyal, baby

he was possessive, but it was hot. we weren’t actually together, but by the way he acted when other guys approached me, you would think we were.

he didn’t want to see me with anyone other than him, and i felt the exact same.

nobody else made me feel the way he did, anyway.

nobody else understood how to test my limits without going overboard.

i love when you’re submissive

love it when i break skin

you feel pain without flinching

i allow him to do whatever he wants to, and in return he he gives me a perfect mix of pleasure and pain.

he constantly pushes me to my limits, it’s almost gratifying to know that i can handle more than i think.

though my masochistic ways can be alarming to some, chris understands. he never judges or questions the things that bring me pleasure.

all it takes is a simple, “i need a distraction” and he has me pushed up against the door, his hand wrapped around my neck.

his fingers wrap around my throat, constricting my airway enough to stop my breathing.

he waits until i look like i’m about to pass out to loosen his grip.

we don’t gotta be in love, no

i don’t gotta be the one, no

i just wanna be one of your girls tonight

it doesn’t matter who he fucked yesterday, or who he’s seeing tomorrow. all that matters is right now.

and right now, we’re at a party, where he has me bent over a chair on the host’s back porch.

“you forget who the fuck you belong to? letting him undress you with his eyes like that?” he struck my ass with the palm of his hand over and over, making me cry out.

“how do you think he’d feel knowing that i’m fucking you on his porch?” he asked as he thrusted into me roughly, pushing my hips into the wooden chair harshly with every movement.

i moaned uncontrollably, gripping onto the chair for dear life as he pounded into me.

deciding to play with him, i looked back at him and spoke, “bet he could fuck me better than you ever will”

we both knew it wasn’t true, but chris stopped his movements immediately, making me whine out.

“think we should go find him? let him watch me fuck your brains out?” he asked as he pulled me to stand up.

“no, chris! please, just-” he cut me off by smacking my ass.

suddenly, he spotted a camera that was aimed at a short table in the middle of the porch.

“hmm, looks like he keeps his home secure, baby. you think he gets alerts when there’s movement on his porch?” chris raised his eyebrows at me, pushing me to the table that the camera was aimed at.

“he’s gonna watch this back and see you get fucked like the dirty little cockwhore you are" he rasped into my ear as he placed me onto the low table on my hands and knees.

he held my arms behind my back as he began to fuck me from behind again.

a cool breeze filled the air, making my nipples hard and sending a shiver down my spine.

he gripped my jaw harshly, turning my face to look at him, “open” he spoke.

when i opened my mouth, he gathered his saliva in his mouth before spitting into mine.

i immediately swallowed, making him slap my cheek lightly.

“now look at the camera” he said as he gripped my jaw, angling it so i was looking straight into the camera.

he pushed my body down, holding my shoulder down as his cock continued to stretch out my tight walls.

“you better make a fucking mess all over this table, make sure he knows how good i made you feel” his mouth found its way to my neck, biting at the skin roughly.

“f-fuck, chris” i moaned as his fingers brushed my hard nipples, before squeezing them firmly.

he suddenly grabbed my throat with his hand, pulling me closer to him.

my eyes rolled into the back of my head at the feeling of his hand squeezing around my throat.

he circled my clit with his free hand, and my head fell back onto his shoulder in response.

“such a fucking slut, you love being fucked out here in the open, huh?”

“good, good, so fucking good, holy shit” all i could do was chant those words, not being able to concentrate on chris’s words.

“look at you, going dumb for my cock” he spoke as he continued to fuck his hips into mine.

i mumbled a string of incoherent curses in response, grabbing his bicep as i felt my orgasm approaching.

“you gonna cum?” he asked as he felt me clench around him.

“yes, yes, yes, yes” i chanted as my eyes rolled back and i released on his cock.

“fuck, gonna fill this pretty pussy up” he groaned before he did exactly that, shooting his seed deep inside of my walls.

he pulled out, quickly replacing his dick with two fingers.

“chris!” i moaned in surprise as he fucked his fingers into me.

“wanna see you squirt all over this fucking table” he growled into my ear.

his fingers moved so quickly inside of me, i could barely keep up.

i reached down to move his hand, but he wasn’t having it.

he pushed me forward, pressing my face into the table.

“it feel good? you like being fingered out here where anyone could see?” he asked as he added another finger.

“yes, yes, oh my god” i cried out as i felt another orgasm coming.

“yeah? then fucking take it” he said.

“chris! i’m cumming!” i yelled as my body shook violently on the table.

“oh my god” i yelled as my juices shot out of me.

“i know you have more, ma. give it to me”

he continued to move his fingers inside of me, watching as the liquid continued to pour out of me, making me scream.

“fuck” i breathed out when his fingers stopped , allowing me to catch my breath.

chris helped me off of the table, helping me to fix my dress so i was covered again before fixing himself up.

he left for a second, coming back with paper towels to clean up our mess.

“hey, you good to get home by yourself? i got something to do” he said, looking down at his phone.

more like someone to do.

“yeah, go. have fun”

with that, he kissed my cheek and left.

we don’t gotta be in love, no

i don’t gotta be the one, no

i just wanna be one of your girls tonight

💋💋💋💋

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @mattsnymphette @leah-loves-lilies @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07

[angelofthenight]

Polite Stranger (Purge Leader) x Reader: Yan!Headcanons

Warnings: Yandere, Dark themes, Symptoms of psychopathy, Toxic friendship, Unhealthy relationship, Degradation, Stalking, Spying, Trespassing, Possessiveness, Obsessiveness, Jealousy, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Superiority complex, Invasion of privacy, Sexual context, Power imbalance, Unwanted touching, Murder, Mention of sexual harassment and assault, Home invasion, Honestly the purge is its own warning, Rushed writing at the end

Word Count: 3.2k

(Reader’s gender is never specified)

Part 2

♡ It all started junior year of highschool private highschool for the upper class

♡ You weren’t upper class at all, fitting into average middle class, but you got in because you were intellectually and academically faster than the public school board 

♡ You didn’t necessarily consider yourself as a genius, you were just a faster learner than your peers and your school wasn't even that good at teaching new things

♡ So you were pretty much average at the new school

♡ It was first day of junior year and the two of you were seated next to each other, the first time you exchanged words was a little near the end of class when you were trying to find your next class on the small paper map you held under the table

♡ You politely asked him for assistance and because you asked so nicely, he escorted you and guided you through the school. For the whole week he basically had you follow him around like a dog so he could show you the ropes of private school

♡ He liked that you needed him and relied on him, it gave him an ego stroke so he decided to keep you around and that’s how you two basically became best friends (except to you the reason was that you guys just got along perfectly) 

♡ He would always tell you how hopeless you’d be without him, but since he said it so cockily you thought he was just being funny (like how most best friends were) and never thought he was actually being serious 

♡ He could also be a little cruel sometimes with teasing you about your financial class

♡ To him, you were his little play thing… until he started getting more possessive of his play thing. In fact he couldn’t even stand the thought of other people talking to you

♡ That’s when the stalking began

♡ He didn’t consider it stalking though, he thought of it more as ‘keeping an eye on you’

♡ The two of you were basically conjoined at the hip during passing periods, lunches, free period, and your two shared classes (one a day) but there were the other five classes where you two were apart

♡ The classes you both had but at different times, he transferred to be in yours. And the other classes he couldn’t change he would leave his class early to stand outside yours until the bell rang

♡ You got a little overwhelmed with his constant presence, it felt suffocating but you never said anything about it

♡ He got to see for himself who talked to you and who you talked to and he mentally took notes on your behavior for each and every one to get a feel for who you liked and disliked; he mentally took notes on each of their behaviors towards you so he knew who to worry about

♡ If anyone got too close to you he took care of it and got his revenge. He’d either sabotage them or humiliate them with dug up dirt he had on them or blackmail them into stop talking to you or if they really liked you then he would frame them for something that would get them kicked out of the school

♡ You were his little toy to play with, no one else's

♡ And he did it all so sneakily that you never once suspected a thing

♡ He basically socially isolates you which wasn’t very hard since you saw majority of the school as stuck up, prissy, rich assholes (even he was one but he grew on you)

♡ But keeping an eye on you at school wasn’t enough

♡ For the first time, you two began hanging out outside of school. Tbh it’s always his idea but he kind of convinces or gaslights you into thinking it was your idea, or he kinda manipulates or tricks you into directly asking 

♡ You feared that he would be shot caller for what you did but he surprisingly preferred you picking, wanting to know where middle class teens go for fun

♡ You hung out a little more than your boundaries would’ve liked so you jokingly called him clingy which resulted in him laughing in your face, knocking your self esteem down a little

♡ But even that wasn’t enough, time you spent without his generous and protecting company still existed

♡ So he stalked you in your spare time without your knowledge 

♡ He still didn’t consider it stalking though, he was just observing you. Like a form of people watching but just focusing on one specific person

♡ He learned the shops and cafes and diners you went to consistently 

♡ This led to him following you home which would lead to him spying on you through your blinds

♡ Until watching you wasn’t enough, he needed to touch

♡ So he snuck into your room when you were absent and dug through all of your belongings, running his hands all over your room. It amused him how much smaller your room was in comparison to his, just adding to his superiority complex toward you. He wanted to explore more of your house but just decided to wait until you invited him to your home yourself, he knew you eventually would due to his ranking title as your best friend

♡ He smirked to himself and turned to your nightstand. A collage of photos were set on the wall of you with two other girls and one of the photos was of you three as kids holding up matching silver heart necklaces. The same necklace that rested around your lampshade, the ‘B’ in BFF etched onto the center. His brows pierced together. What the hell?

♡ No. He was your best friend. Who were those lowlife pigs you shared air with?!

♡ It was at that moment of rage and jealousy that he realized how he truly felt about you, he was in love with you

♡ He didn’t confess to you right away, in his cruel mind you had to earn it. But that didn’t mean his possessiveness didn’t worsen. He got more cruel with keeping others away from you and pushed your boundaries even more, he even pushed boundaries you didn’t even know he pushed like violating your privacy. He learned your phone passcode so he could go through your phone when you weren’t looking and that allowed him to learn your email login

♡ After knowing how easy it was sneak into your room he began doing it much more often, thus forming a more obsessive infatuation with you

“Why don’t you ever invite me to your house? Are you embarrassed?”

“Oh… um. There’s nothing special at my place and I just didn’t think you were interested.”

“Well, I am.”

♡ Since he’s so politely blatant, he gets you into inviting him yourself to your house where he gets to meet your parents and explore the parts of your home beyond your bedroom. As you two hang around in your room he asks about the two girls on your wall

“Oh them? They’ve been my best friends since 3rd grade, they go to the public school I used to go to.”

♡ He turns to you with a dark look in his eyes, one that you’ve grown familiar with but it still unsettled you each time. “Aren’t I your best friend?”

♡ You shifted in an uncomfortable state. “Well… I can have more than one best friend.” You dodged the question out of nervousness 

♡ He took a step toward you and you took one back which led your knees right into the edge of your bed, causing you to fall into a seated position. He took another step closer so that one foot was in between yours and he planted his hands on either side of the bed beside your hips. He bent his knees to lean his face closer to yours as you leaned back

♡ “Or maybe you see me as something more.” He breathed huskily on your reddening face, he never got that physically close before

♡ You were so caught off guard and flustered that you couldn’t even think of any words to say, lips parted and breath barely present in your chest. He didn’t care nor realize your silence before he leaned in to press his lips into yours, a deepness in the movement of his lips

♡ The way he kissed you was so intoxicating and satisfying that no matter how you felt about him you kissed back and closed your eyes just as he did

♡ The kiss was slow yet heated up into a sensual manner as he placed one hand on the side of your neck with his thumb caressing your jawline and his other hand wrapped around the hip area near the top of your thigh

♡ He rocked his head in and out of the warm kiss before he reattached his lips to the crook of your neck, a soft flinched gasp squeezing your throat. The hand that was once on your neck traveled under your armpit to grip onto your shoulder from behind as he worked on the other one. He attacked your neck in smooth kisses then sucking kisses, opening his mouth to let your soft flesh enter the hot encompass of his mouth and wet dragging tongue

♡ Your mewling moans encouraged his abuse on your neck that was beginning to fade into hickeys. His desperate sucks transitioned into lovebites, startling you as he bit down on your sensitive skin with his teeth. His fingers on your shoulder gripped harder as if he was an animal chomping down on its dinner, the growls emitting from his throat as he sensually chewed adding onto the comparison

♡ He finally released your neck, which was now littered with hickeys and dents from lovebites, to run a hand through your hair. You breathed like you were high with flushed cheeks and swollen lips. He smirked devilishly as he leaned closer to your face with his fingers still tangled up in your locks

♡ “So are we going to be something more?” He asked with such cockiness in his voice

♡ If you reject him, he’ll manipulate you where you stand into agreeing; twisting your own words around. So no matter your answer, you’re entering a relationship with him 

♡ And then he gets worse; mentally and behaviorally 

♡ Now he’s taking small items from your bedroom and condoning it as just a couples thing

♡ Don’t think you’re now spared from his teasing just because of your relationship, in fact I’d say even those get worse

♡ He teases you about the smallest things which just makes you insecure about the smallest things you never paid much mind to before. But then he’ll do a complete 180 and lovebomb you and praise the same things he previously mocked. Sometimes it just makes you think you’re crazy

♡ He just loves to toy with you so much, whether it be confusing you in a very unhealthy way or just playing with your feelings. He gets such a kick out of it, it’s too much fun. Either way it just makes you depend on him even more, wanting approval/validation and relying on him to raise your self esteem

♡ He also gets ridiculously more clingy (practically breathing down your neck constantly and practically being your new shadow) and touchy. Always having a hand on your waist in the school hallways, always having a hand on your thigh during classes. Even if when you ask him to stop he won’t. In fact, he’d probably mock you about asking him to stop

♡ When the first purge since your relationship comes, he kills your two little friends you just love so much

♡ He’ll never forget the blind vulnerability you displayed in his arms the night after as you cried in grief, a language his psychopathic mind couldn’t understand. He felt a buzz in his chest as you pathetically clung to him as if he wasn’t the one that had hacked a hatchet through their faces multiple hours ago. He loved you weak and trembling in his embrace with him in the role as your vicious protector, it gave him such a pleasured rush

♡ Around 6 months later when you were in his bedroom while he ran out of the room real quick. He walks in on you on your knees beside his open closet door looking up at him with paralyzed horror laced in your features, mouth hung open and his beloved purge mask in your trembling fingers. He stared down at you, not knowing what exactly he was feeling in his gut

♡ “Please tell me this isn’t yours or-or this is a joke or… I’m just hallucinating” You begged with eyes welling up with thick tears and your throat growing raw

♡ He didn’t say anything, not really feeling the sympathetic need to lie. Now that he thought about, he didn’t really care whether you knew or not

♡ You almost couldn’t believe it. “You… you purge?” You recognized the exact mask in your hands as the one the killer from the security tapes wore as he split your friends’ face into two with a shiny axe. “And you… it was you. You killed them… muh-my friends.”

♡ A feeling finally invaded his empty chest from the mention of those pests he thought he’d hear the last of after he exterminated them. “It was legal” He stated with an angered tone of voice; strict when it came to his human right to participate on purge night

♡ “That doesn’t make it right! Are you fucking kidding me!? What the fuck is wrong with you!? Why would you kill my best friends!” You snapped at him, rising to your feet. “I cried to you! You knew how much they meant to me! You knew how much it affected me because you sat there and watched like a fucking psychopath!”

♡ He didn’t even attempt to comfort you nor try to justify his actions. Just stood there, staring down at you with eyes that said “are you done whining now?”

♡ You threw his mask to the ground and marched up to him to say in his face, “We’re fucking done. You are dead to me and I never want to see you ever again”. You attempted to walk past him but he roughly flung his arm out to stop you. He laughed and looked at you humoredly. “You’re not leaving me” He said with that shit-eating grin of his

♡ You glared, “Watch me”. You shoved through his arm but only made it to the hallway but he threw his body against you, making your back smack hard into the wall as one of the hands pinned your dominant wrist and the other gripped around your jaw to force you to look at him. His smile grew malicious and fear began to settle into your composure. “I said… you’re not leaving me.”

♡ You were afraid, so very afraid of the way he looked down at you, so very afraid of him with the new knowledge of his participation of America’s “all crime is legal” night. But your desire to get out of this relationship with him now rather than later was stronger than your horror. So you jabbed your knee upwards into his groin, making him wheeze in pain loosen his hold on you

♡ You shoved him by the shoulders to the ground and attempted to make a run for it from there but he latched his arms tightly around your leg from the ground. You gasped and looked down at him as he looked up to you with something you had never seen in his eyes before; vulnerable desperacy. “Don’t leave me, (Y/n)! Don’t you dare leave me, baby!” He cried out but his undertone still dipped in anger. “We are meant to be together and I will never let you leave me! I… I love you!” He confessed for the first time

♡ You didn’t let his manipulative tactics work on you this time. “Let-” you kicked your foot to his face to force him to unhand your leg, “-GO!” And as he clutched his bleeding nose, you bolted from his house

♡ Things got so much more worse after that

♡ He got so much worse after that

♡ His stalking grew more intense, he was breaking into your house to try to talk to you, he would harass and assault you any chance he got, just every one of his red flags amplified to a very dangerous level. He would not leave you alone, you could not get rid of him

♡ And there’s only so much a restraining order could do against a wealthy white man

♡ You had drop out of school, you had to move out of town, you bought a taser and a mace, you had to save up money to buy security systems. And you would prepare yourself for the upcoming Purge night

♡ You and him both knew that purge night meant that all efforts to keep him away would fall apart. No laws would exist to protect you from him. And for the first handful of purges, you had escaped him just by a hair out of pure luck

♡ But those purges were the closest experience to hell you had ever been through

♡ He had brutally but legally murdered everyone you cared about and butchered anyone who offered you the slightest bit of protection and slaughtered anyone who took a single step in his way from taking what was rightfully his, even if it was his own family and friends

♡ He had demolished any sanctuary you hid in with the help of his machines, there was no lock that would keep him away for longer than a minute. In fact, he liked the locks (only on purge night of course), he liked the challenge of chasing you. He loved this cruel game of cat and mouse. He loved when you ran, when you tried to fight back, it was so fun for him!

♡ You once foolishly begged for hospitality and protection from a family who looked to have very solid defenses on their home. But you got all four of them killed 

♡ Because he always found you, no matter where you ran and no matter where you hid. He hunted you like a dog. You knew you couldn’t beat him every Purge, and you were petrified of the Purge where he’d ambush you when you least expected it. You feared that inevitable night more than anything ever

♡ For him, he could hardly wait for that night. Where he’d finally swoop you back up into his arms again and then bring you to his bedroom to make love to you to finally release all of his pent up fiery passion. He would drink in your moans as you’d cling to him while you’d experience the best pleasure and you’d regret ever leaving him in the first place

♡ So for as long as he has a pulse, he will dedicate every second of his life to tracking you down and dragging you back home with him

♡ All because of his love for you

[mar64ds]

can u tell us more about the rest of the characters you showed off for ur s&m game?

Thank you I'd love to talk about them!!!

-This is Manny Money, of course I had to go with an Ace Atttorney-like name. He is the one who has organized the party in his big mansion. He is usually always smiling, he is very cheery, but you can easily tell he is a very fake person. He owns a toy brand/company, inhereted by his father, but lately the toys have not been selling well and for some reason Manny is not really doing anything about it? Strange

-I have not decided the name of the rest of the characters yet, this lady here is mysterious, cold, distant and always seems like she knows a lot about everyone and about this mystery. She's a succesful singer, although she usually stays out of public eye from some reason. She is also Manny's ex, something he clearly hasn't let go of, but she has, she is very open about how much she dislikes him. She is suspicious but Sam and Max have funny interactions with her because they are usually pretty nice to her despite everything

-This is a supervillain skeleton, also the owner of a film company, that's not his secret identity or anything but Sam and Max think that it is lol. He is a very theatrical person, when he tries to be a villain or when he is simply having a normal conversation, he just loves a good show. Sam and Max have fought him in the past, but they barely remember anything about him

-This fish is shy, socially anxious, gets startled easily, they are not having a good time in a murder mystery. Think of characters like Luigi, Boober, they are kind like that. They are an actor, whenever they act they become a very confident person, acting is the thing that always calms them, also water because they are a fish. There is a theatre and a pool on the mansion so perhaps that can help? Overall they are a very sweet person, they just worry a lot, and you have a lot to worry about in a murder mystery. They genuinely like Sam and Max, like they don't roll their eyes at them or think they are strange, they genuinely like Sam and Max, it's very sweet. Oh yeah, first sam&max nonbinary representation, second if the VR player counts, there will be a couple more, the party will have plenty of NPCs

-This pig, capitalist pig, he is a terrible person. His entire personality is being a billionaire asshole, he is fun to hate or you can just hate him without the fun. He has funny facial expressions, think of Burgerpants from Undertale, not exactly like that but similar. He is rivals with Manny, even though this pig is richer than him Manny somehow always humiliates him, but he keeps going to his parties anyway

-Of course you know her already, but I want to talk about her too! She is a succesful fashion designer, she has her own magazine. She wants to interview the guests on the party, take pictures, take notes about the different outfits, etc. She does that but gets bored after a while, she loves her job but the party grows old quick. She has a very cute personality with a very blunt and direct sense of humor, she says what she thinks and she is not shy to ask questions, she is a reporter of her own magazine after all, even though it's only about fashion, she is just curious to investigate about everything else too. She gets along well with Sam and Max, the things they find amusing and entertaining she also finds amusing and entertaining, she is just very casual about it. She helps with solving the mystery, because that sounds fun, she will give find a bunch of hints and stuff that will help the case move forward. You'll even get a dress-up minigame thanks to her! She does more in the story but that's a spoiler, but overall she is just a lot of fun and she has the best friendship with Sam and Max

-The squirrel is only there for a puzzle, it's not a character. The bee is not a character either, but it's the mascot of Manny's toy company, you will see him a lot

-The little bat however! That's a little guy that was flying around the mansion until Max accidentaly knocks it out, we use it for a puzzle and then Sam keeps it in his pockets. When it wakes up, even though it's a little mad, it will help you for one thing: fast travel! This is a big mansion, you don't have to backtrack over and over, this little bat is here and is strong enough to carry you both. You can talk to it too, it will have another role in the story later on, but that's a spoiler. I don't know how to describe its personality other than a cute videogame companion, think of Telly Vision from Chibi-Robo, or Heart from Mad Rat Dead

[masterwords]

something like sanctified

Summary: Hotch & Morgan have a little accident while messing around. Now, their bed is broken and Hotch is a little broken too. Shopping for a new bed is more than a little embarrassing with your arm in a sling. (Alternate summary: they're too damn old for this shit.)

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 3k

Warnings: sex & a shoulder injury (no explicit sex, just obviously that's kind of the theme of these hijinks)

Notes: Today we're using a prompt from my forever muse @unionjackpillow - "Shopping for a new bed because the old one - that they got only 2 years ago - broke. Now they’re trying not to tell the sales person why exactly the frame is no longer in one piece." Oh. Well. I don't think they needed to say anything at all, do you? This fits into the Chicago Timeline, so they're older and have creaky bones but they're definitely not wiser. (The title sounds very serious but it's a line from "Let's Get It On" by Marvin Gaye so...)

Read on AO3 if you prefer!

**

“They don't need our whole life story,” Hotch said, perhaps a little too stiff as he tried to pull himself out of the car. He didn't mean for it to come out that way, but it did need to be said. Most people would assume that to be the case...not Derek. Not the man who could charm his way into a new friendship any place he went if he was in the right mood. Today seemed like one of those dangerous days. “Okay? You're not on the market for a new best friend, just a bed. Because you broke the last one...”

“We broke the last one. And why are you so mean anyway? You were having just as much fun as I was.”

“You’re right. I'm sorry. I’m tired and my shoulder hurts, I probably should have stayed home. I shouldn't take it out on you, even if it is your fault.”

Derek rolled his eyes dramatically and hooked his arm around Hotch's waist, careful not to bump against his sore arm. He did have a point, they had been a little rough the night before and when you’re on the bottom of some intense acrobatics when your bed breaks and your arm takes the brunt of two people’s weight against an unforgiving hardwood floor...Derek supposed he had a fairly good excuse for being a little on the grumpy side. “I'm gonna tell 'em everything. About how you dislocated your shoulder, about how I offered to set it back in place and you growled at me to keep my hands off...about the trip to the ER at 2am, everything.” Hotch wasn’t proud of his reaction but the injury had blindsided him. He was nearly finished, his mind was way out in the stratosphere and then WHAM! His entire world exploded in bright hot agony. It took him nearly a full minute to even figure out what happened and in that minute he did not want to be touched. He’d already apologized about one hundred times.

“I would prefer you didn’t.” How was that for diplomatic? What he really wanted to say was the fuck you are, but he didn’t swear often and he really didn’t think it would come across as (almost) playful as he meant it. Better let that one die on his tongue. Derek’s jovial mood was hanging by a thread, too, and he was a lot better at hiding it but Hotch knew how easily they could devolve into a bitter argument.

They ended up at the mall, purely because Derek was hungry and planned to send Hotch on a mission to grab them some lunch and wait at the food court while he talked his way around the furniture store. The problem in that plan, he discovered, was that Hotch with only one useful arm wasn’t going to be able to easily carry trays of food on his own, not without risking some very embarrassing public mishaps. Like he needed to draw more attention to the humiliation of the injury.

Derek did plan to be vague, he wasn’t a complete maniac, but it was fun to let Hotch think that their antics would be center stage. Hotch turned down the food court idea promptly, insisting that they go together or not at all. The pain in his shoulder was making him feel a little sick, and he wanted nothing more than to stand beside Derek quietly observing. There wasn’t much Derek could do when Hotch looked at him with those sleepy dazed eyes, the look of a man who was just beginning to feel the effects of the pain medicine he’d taken before they left the house so he could get through the day as comfortably as possible. There was a time, years ago, when he wouldn’t have touched the pills but he was too old for that now. His body already hurt whether he injured it or not, and dislocating your shoulder is a young man’s game as the doctor had said. Scolded. It was kind of a scolding. “How do you dislocate your shoulder at this time of night?” he’d asked, and Hotch had no good answer. In his days as an FBI Agent that answer was always easy, it hadn’t occurred to him that he no longer had that safety net. Derek wasn’t even in the room with him, just to be a little less obvious. It didn’t matter. “Take it easy, you’re no spring chicken. This’ll take a little longer to heal.”

Longer to heal spelled trouble anyway. He’d dislocated his left shoulder which meant writing was going to be a challenge down the line. Hopefully taking longer didn’t mean past Spring Break, or at least that he would have some command of his arm by the time classes resumed. He hated to have to add taking time off to the list of indignities he was suffering for having a little too much fun with his boyfriend. Lesson learned. Maybe. It was fun.

“Just time for an upgrade?” the salesman asked with a wink, eyeing Hotch in his sling with a knowing look. Hotch felt the flush of utter humiliation rising like the tide in his neck. How did he know already? Were they that obvious?

“Yes.”

“Anything in particular you're looking for?”

Derek grinned. “Can we look at the ones with the padded headboards?” He was tired of hitting his head on hard wood, he’d been complaining about it for months. Now was the time to make a change if there ever was one.

Hotch wanted to die immediately, this was only getting worse. He should have gone to the food court. Dropping a tray of soda and pizza in the middle of hungry families eating would have been preferable to the horrors of this interaction. The salesman glanced from one of them to the other and nodded sagely. “Of course. We have some very nice ones, just got ‘em in.”

While they walked toward the showcase area, Hotch rubbed absently at the back of his hand resting in the sling. His fingers were tingling, they felt the way he imagined the inside of a snow globe might feel all liquid and glitter swishing and moving around. It wasn’t quite static, it was less intense than that but still unnerving. An unfortunate but temporary side effect of the injury they assured him would pass within a day or so. Sometimes nerves got jostled or pinched, but as long as it wasn’t painful or numb it was probably fine. He didn’t care for the word probably being used in a medical capacity. Come back if it doesn’t go away in 24 to 48 hours, that’s the drill. Hotch flexed his hand and sighed. At least, for the first time that day, he didn’t feel his tendons pull angrily at his injured joint. It was blissfully unaware of the movement below.

“I like the gray one,” Derek said pointing to a dark gray tufted headboard. It was nice. Looked like a bed and a wing back chair had an elegant baby, and he didn't mind it. Didn’t particularly like it bu the didn’t hate it either, and he wasn’t terribly picky about what his bed looked like. He cared a lot more about the mattress. “What do you think?”

The bed frame was upholstered in the same dark gray fabric, low to the ground, with no foot board. Metal, not wood. “It’s nice. You choose, I really don’t care as long as I can sleep in a bed tonight.” He was grouchy, running on about three hours of sleep and he was in pain...not really his shoulder, but every overcompensating muscle group that surrounded his shoulder ached deep and complained loudly. He wanted to be sitting down. He couldn’t possibly keep it still enough to be comfortable otherwise.

“Looks sturdy.”

“I've heard plenty of stories of beds being broken,” the salesman started with a sly smile. Hotch turned away. “If you can imagine it, someone has told me about it. Of course there’s the naughty stuff, but there’s also animals and kids and people rearranging a room, earthquakes…” he was rambling, he’d already clearly decided they had sex, he kept eyeing Hotch’s sling and the bags under his eyes. You don’t end up in a sling because your dog jumped on your bed, or your kid, and there hadn’t been an earthquake in Chicago recently. It was a pretty sure bet. “But not this style. Indestructible. How’d you hurt your arm anyway? Looks fresh.”

Derek, sensing the way Hotch immediately bristled at the question and moreover the implication, stepped in. “Work accident. I think we’ll take this one, it’s nice. Matches the rest of the bedroom. How soon can it be delivered?”

They’d told Jessica and Jack the same thing. A work accident. Jessica just gave them that look, wondering what kind of a work accident a professor of law could possibly get into (especially while his students were on spring break) and Hotch was sure he would fold if she asked for details...he couldn’t lie to her. But she didn’t ask, and Jack only rolled his eyes and said yeah, right, whatever. Hotch couldn’t tell if it was the kind of sarcastic yeah right that said he knew exactly what they were doing, or if maybe he thought Hotch had been doing something stupid like climbing a ladder without Derek there to support him...wouldn’t put it past him. Could go either way. He hoped for the latter of the two. In any case, the two of them were back in Virginia so Jack could spend his spring break with Roy. The broken frame was removed from the house and Hotch could live with that lie. Of course they’d have to answer for why they had a new bed once Jack returned to Chicago but that was a problem for next week.

“This afternoon. You’ll be sleeping in your brand new bed tonight.”

“Do we have to build it ourselves?” He sounded like a wuss, he knew it. He could build the damn thing himself he just...didn’t want to. He wanted to sit with Hotch on the couch and not worry about it. He wanted to throw a nice big tip at someone who was willing to do it for them.

“We can send someone out to put it together,” the salesman said, leading them toward the cash register. “It’s a two person job, and it appears you only have one able to work so I get it. They’re booked out a few days but I’ll see if I can’t get someone out there for you today.”

The bed was delivered and built without issue while Hotch took a much needed nap on the couch with Hank. Hotch needed the nap more than Hank did. Fran was fussing over him, knowing exactly what happened and not shying away from shaming her son for his childish antics. “You two are grown men, you have children who live in this house…”

“There weren’t any kids here, ma. We had a night free to be grown ups and do what grown ups do. We’re not allowed to have a little fun?”

“That is not the point, Derek Morgan. Look at him. That poor man. Was it worth it?”

Derek, glancing into the living room at Hotch sleeping with Hank on his chest, carefully tucked into the crook of his good arm, smiled. They were huddled beneath a blanket that left only the fluff of Hanks unruly hair and the top half of Hotch’s face visible. “I dunno. It wasn’t not worth it. You see that new bed?”

She smacked his arm with the pot holder and shoved him out of the way so she could get into the oven for her roast. She had insisted on making them dinner, as if Hotch’s minor injury meant they couldn’t do it for themselves. Sure, at least for today, Hotch was more or less useless but if he had to do something he would have. He just didn’t have to. He had the luxury to lay around with a toddler tucked against his chest and sleep off a good night that turned a little sour. Sleep off sore muscles and joints and a late night hospital visit.

“I was going to offer to keep Hank the Tank again tonight so you could take care of Aaron but I’m a little afraid you’re going to misunderstand me. Can I trust you?”

“No,” Derek said with that infuriating smile. “Of course you can’t. But you can probably trust him. I don’t think he’s planning on any hanky panky for a while.”

“Well at least one of you is using the brains God gave you.”

“Aw, ma, don’t bring him into this. Go sit down with your coffee and I’ll finish up here. I’m perfectly capable of making dinner for my family.”

She rolled her eyes but set the pot holder down, lifted her coffee and made a beeline for their bedroom to see the new bed (it was very nice, she had to admit) before wandering back to the living room to have a seat and wait for him to ask her help setting the table or waking the sleepyheads.

She did end up taking Hank back to her place for the night, just to make things easier. She also loved having him stay the night, he made every part of her house more cheerful just by his presence and she was missing Jack’s afternoon visits a little more than she thought she would while he was back in Virginia. She had a countdown on her fridge with a big circled date for her biggest grandchild’s return. It was partially for her, partially for Anthony, they both missed him fiercely. Their afternoons spent playing board games and drinking lemonade were a lot less fun without Jack and his unique brand of humor.

“You wanna give it a shot?” Derek asked as they started the arduous process of getting ready for bed. Hotch was struggling to pull his t-shirt off around an arm that he didn’t want to move. It wasn’t exactly stiff, the joint just felt weak and achey. And the tendons felt weak, like if he moved too far or too fast his shoulder would slip right back out and he’d be in a world of hurt all over again. His entire arm felt like it was hanging by a threat, unstable and dangerously close to blinding pain. He’d abandoned the cumbersome sling sometime around dinner time, deciding instead that he would rather just rest the sore arm in his lap or against his chest, engaging some muscles made it feel a little more secure.

Reaching out, Derek grabbed the shirt and helped maneuver it around the swollen mound of his mottled purple and red shoulder. He slid it down around the elbow and off, trailing warm soft kisses in the wake. He started at the deep bruising, the odd stretch marks in the skin where it had popped, and followed the line down to his elbow before standing up and finding eager and waiting lips instead. Maybe his idea that Hotch would be against hanky panky was a little off. It was a delightful revelation. “I’ll be gentle. I promise.”

“What would your mother say?” Hotch asked with a small smirk, already on board.

“Uh-uh, don’t you dare invoke her name in this bedroom…” Derek warned, already undoing Hotch’s belt and then his pants. Hotch was content to let him do all the work. He just watched with that amused little smile while Derek undressed him eagerly. “You trust me?”

“Against my better judgment…” Hotch whispered against Derek’s lips. “Always.”

That night, shoulder injury notwithstanding, they gave the bed its maiden voyage. Slow and steady, Hotch still riding the last bits of his paid med high.

Not a squeak, not a shift.

Derek had propped Hotch up on pillows, he really was less an active participant as he was a very involved observer. Eager and willing to let Derek do whatever he wanted. He did what he could, he wasn’t a cold fish, but ultimately found himself met with Derek chiding him, telling him to be still, to just enjoy the process. He barely even felt it in his wrecked shoulder or the angry muscles holding it in place. It was so comfortable, so quiet that they went at it again almost immediately before hopping in the shower to clean up. The discussion was limited to “yeah?” and “yeah”, monosyllabic and quick. Derek helped Hotch wash his hair and had trouble restraining himself when their hips brushed and rolled against one another, when their fingers touched, when Hotch sagged against him tired and finally, having exceeded the length of his medication and badly in need of another dose, feeling considerable pain. The muscles running the length of his spine ached as they worked twice as hard to hold his arm still.

“No more?” Derek asked and Hotch shook his head. He was tapping out. Derek wouldn’t argue.

“I’m ready to sleep.”

Derek was too, he wanted to lie down in bed, prop Hotch up with as many pillows as it took to make him comfortable and crowd in on him. Absorb his heat, give him heat, touch him and breathe him in. Tangle their legs and drape his arms and drift off. He wanted all of that too, but he feigned disappointment anyway. Because that was fun.

“Yeah...alright. I am a little tired. Guess we should see if the bed is good for that too, huh?”

[brown-little-robin]

Get to know the OC asks: For my boy Malware:

4. Does your OC have a failed friendship or relationship they still think about? What happened? Is it an unresolved regret or is there a chance for reconciliation?

8. What was your OC's most embarrassing moment? Does it still bother them or are they able to shrug it off?

10. Is your OC sentimental or pragmatic? Do they keep mementos or only what they need to survive? Have they always been this way or did something happen to make them change?

17. Does your OC have an enemy? What happened between them? Is it mutual or one-sided? Is it petty or serious? Is one party seeking revenge? Does one person want the other dead or are they content to hate them from afar? 

oooh, thanks for the ask! Malware!!!

4. Does your OC have a failed friendship or relationship they still think about? What happened? Is it an unresolved regret or is there a chance for reconciliation?

yeah, Malware had (shallow) friendships when it was human, and it lost them all when it abandoned its human body to become a computer virus. It regrets never being fully real to its acquaintances. Malware was a celebrity, and its friends were all also celebrities. It could definitely revive some of those relationships if it wanted to, but it's a little busy at the moment and doesn't care to do that. And Malware feels itself better off ignoring its parents' existence.

8. What was your OC's most embarrassing moment? Does it still bother them or are they able to shrug it off?

ohhhh, Malware has had embarrassing moments from a very young age, many of which were public. Celebrating a victory in a video game tournament too early and being beaten by a good margin was humiliating, and Malware still grinds its metaphorical teeth about that. Grrrr. Darn that guy, he didn't need to call Malware cute about it. augh. augh. augh.

(Malware's actual most embarrassing moments mostly were more personal, like wardrobe malfunctions on live broadcasts, accidentally swearing in front of its parents, and so on.)

10. Is your OC sentimental or pragmatic? Do they keep mementos or only what they need to survive? Have they always been this way or did something happen to make them change?

Hm! Malware has always been more experience-oriented than physical-objects-oriented; that's part of why it chose to become bodiless, because it knew it had a natural aptitude for living life without possessions. I'd say Malware is mostly pragmatic, and has needed every bit of that from the very beginning of its life, because as a child prodigy, its parents moved it around a LOT and it didn't have room for many possessions. But if it got a body now, oh, I think it would get sentimental. It wouldn't like to admit it. Mal might even hide its possessions and pretend not to care. But it would care. So much.

17. Does your OC have an enemy? What happened between them? Is it mutual or one-sided? Is it petty or serious? Is one party seeking revenge? Does one person want the other dead or are they content to hate them from afar?

oof. Malware really, really hates the Empress, who doesn't really have any personal feelings about Malware other than vague interest. The Empress knows about Malware as a sentient virus tool of the empress, a willing participant (theoretically, anyway). Malware knows it's not personal, but has a bitter, bitter grudge against both the Empress and its former handler, a military general. Malware isn't seeking revenge for being turned into an Imperial tool.... exactly, but it expects to feel really good when Malware's plan to save a fellow disembodied mind abruptly renders a quarter of the military drones inoperative, leaving the Empress scrambling to maintain power.

from this ask game!

[house-of-slayterr]

Hello Mx. Writer! It's me again:)

How do you think Maggie and Basil and even V would react to see a Riddler v.s. Victor showdown? Aka how they react to the love triangle?

Hello Anon 🥰 how are you my dear?

Oh god, ok. Victor Vs Ed would be a walking nightmare- but god would I want to watch! Also I know we’re talking our Gotham boys right now, but I can’t help but think about what would happen if Birds of Prey Zsasz tried to fight The Batman’s Ed Nashton… terrifying!

Ed’s love for Y/N is very respect base. She’s a little older then the man and he knows there’s a lot he can learn from her. So perhaps one day when Oswald is really getting on his nerves, Ed goes to Y/N for help with revenge. I mean it’s obvious he’s in love with the boy. Y/N can see it plain as day, so of course she’s going to help the younger villain.

He sees Y/N and Vic fight all the time. Yet they’re still madly in love. Besides he enjoys the thrill of his little feud with her boss. Is Gotham, normal relationships don’t exist. If you haven’t tried to kill each other even once, are you really even a couple? Them spending more time together is totally innocent. Riddler slips in from time to time and tries to crack little jokes and puns at Y/N. He’s not blind, the women is very attractive, but he doesn’t have a death sentence. He knows she’s Victor’s, but a little friendly flirty never hurt anyone right? Besides, he loves to watch her laugh.

And boy is she laughing! You know that classic cackle where you lean back in your chair so far you almost fall, and the other person puts a hand on their shoulder to steady you. That sort of full belly laugh that has a minor insanity behind it. Of course neither of them are sober during these little midnight plotting sessions. That would be no fun. Between the shitty riddles, the booze and plotting to make Oswald so furious the idiot throws a week long tantrum, Y/N feels totally free and giddy. There’s a certain high she gets from strategising a war that’s not serious for once. One where there’s no high stakes, and nobody’s going home having lost something they’d rather not go without.

VICTOR DOES NOT LIKE THIS!! That attention should be his. Her laugh should be from him. Not this low level, criminal wanna be. He looks like a damn leprechaun who sprouted real people legs. And when Victor comes home after a long day, looking for his Wife and finds Nygma with his hand around her. He’s seeing RED!!!!

Despite what everyone thinks, Vic does have impulse control. It’s very little but he does know how to show some self restraint. So he pulls himself away in the moment. Course, he does go out and make it EVERYONE else’s problem. Jimbo better hope he doesn’t run into the assassin on his little rampage. Cause Victor is not afraid to cut anyone down to size who gets in his way. He’s furious, and even if this little friendship was totally innocent, that wouldn’t change fuck all to him. Little does Victor know Y/N planned this. She could help Nygma, while playing the side game to rile her lover up. I mean Vic is way more fun when he’s bloodthirsty. Can’t blame a woman for wanting some excitement, or to be dominated every once in a while.

And Victor is playing right into her plan. If Oswald called a meeting because he’s growing suspicious of this sudden friendship, everyone would have to be there. If there’s one thing Oswald likes, it’s humiliating people. Why do in private what you can do in public instead? Needless to say Maggie and Basil have no clue why they’re being summoned that morning. Oswald’s pretty much locks them all in the room and just glares until someone tells him what he wants to hear. Nobody says anything at first, I mean poor Maggie and Basil have no idea what’s going on. But Victor would be the first to make a move. No words, just a punch straight to Ed’s nose.

He’d pull his gun as the man stumbled back and point it right between his eyes. A challenge to try anything, wether that be making a physical move, or attempting to even speak. Nothing Ed could say would make Victor any less trigger happy.

Maggie is the first to recognise this, and would instantly jump up from here chair.

“Woah, Victor, what the hell are you doing?” She’d ask bewildered.

Victor doesn’t move the gun, just turns his head to look at her and smirks.

“Taking out the trash.”

She’s roll her eyes.

“Nygma, what did you do?” She’s demand.

Maggie might be fairly soft spoken, but everyone could tell there was an urgency in her voice. It was gentle but commanding.

“What makes you think I did anything? The bastards crazy!” Ed defends.

Of course, Basil takes note to the fact that Y/N hasn’t had much of a response to any of this. She never attempted to rise from her seat, and there was no readable emotion on her face. It was suspicious, like she was trying to play innocent. Basil just raises a questioning brow at the woman, who gives no indication she’s going to be revealing anything anytime soon. She just sips from her cup while she watches.

Maggie pinches her brow in annoyance.

“Oswald?”

Despite him very clearly taking a more dominant role in the relationship that they have, Oswald steps forward as if his own mother just called him forward. No hesitation at all. She’d look down at the man.

“Why are we here?”

“They’re plotting something against me, I just know it.” He says, anger in his town.

Maggie hand help the exasperated sigh that leaves her mouth. She’s grown used to playing therapist.

“You’re all hopeless.” She scoffs. “Ok Oz, you’re being paranoid. Nobody in this room is trying to hurt you. Edward, you need to wipe that smug grin off your face, Victor put the damn gun down. And you-“

She’d pause when she gets to Y/N. I mean what can she say, she’s not exactly doing anything. Besides, it would be a weighty punishment if she talked back to the woman. Y/N would raise a challenging brow at the girl, smirking a little.

“Stop being so quiet, it’s creeping me out.” Maggie said, shuddering.

Nothing good ever happened when Y/N was quiet for too long. Quiet meant she was thinking, and hard. Y/N certainly amused by Maggie’s lame attempt at diffusing this situation.

“How can I stop a non-action dear?” Y/N would smirk.

Maggie would just look to Basil for help. He’d just nod his head at Edward, showing he’s the weakest link in the group right now. Maggie would clear her throat and approach.

“Look, Edward, sweetie-“ Riddler does not enjoy her tone right now. “You’re going to have to fess up to what you did sooner or later. Or else none of us are leaving this room. And I swear to you, if I have to miss going to the bookstore with Jim to pick out Bruce a book for his birthday, I am going to rip out your spleen and make you crawl across hot coals to get it back.”

She wasn’t fucking around. If anyone hated plans being interrupted more than Y/N, it’s was Maggie. And plans with Jim none the less, she was currently wanting to scream.

“Wait you’re going book shopping with Jim?” Oswald asks.

Everyone can hear the slight jealousy in his voice. Despite him not sharing affection for the girl in that way, didn’t mean he had to enjoy anyone else showing her said affection.

“Yeah, Bruce has been talking about this specific book for months, only place I can find it is down in the offered. Jim offered to go with me, probably cause he has no idea what to get the kid and wants to leach off my gift. But whatever.”

Not true. Everyone in that room new it’s because Jim didn’t want her alone in the narrows. Always the gentleman, that man. She tried back to Riddler.

“So you’re going to sit down and start talking, or so help me god I’ll just let Victor shoot you.”

Nobody really knew if the girl was being serious.

“I’m serious, I didn’t do anything wrong. Is having friends illegal now?” He questioned.

“Now I get it.” Basil chimed in. “Victor you jealous bastard, you do know your wife is allowed to talk to people right? That’s a basic human right.”

Victor would growl, wanting to shoot the younger man as well.

“Ed, apologise to Victor for making him insecure. Y/N apologise to Oswald for making him paranoid. And Victor, put the fucking gun down before I shove it up your scrawny ass. I’m not fucking around today guys, I don’t have time for this shit.”

“That time of the month?” Victor asked.

Yeah that would be the last straw. Screw an actual showdown between Victor and Edward, right now this was about to be between Victor and God. Of course Victor is going to be holding a grudge on Edward for a long time. Messing up the man’s plans and trying to shoot him at practically any opportunity they have when Maggie’s out of sight. Victor thinks Maggie’s and innocent little kitty cat, and frequently makes fun of the girl for being so soft. But, he’s also seen her shot Sofia with no hesitation because Jim was involved. Honestly he was pretty proud of her for that.

Maggie would turn back to him bewildered.

“What did you just say?”

Oh, she’s bold with it. To talk to the Victor Zsasz like he wasn’t gripping a fully loaded gun right now. Basil would be quick to step in, stepping between his big sis and Victor. Of course he’d love to watch her throw a punch at the guy, but he also knows it’s a fight she can’t win. And nobody in that room is thinking straight. He’d pull her backward into a hug, trapping her against him so she can’t move. She’d put up a valiant effort, kicking and grumbling to try to get out of his arms. Even going so far as to bite him, but he’s undeterred.

“Fine, the two do you kill each other for all I care. And Y/N, I hope whatever you’re planning is worth it.”

She’d convince Basil to let her go.

“I’m getting out of here, Basil you’re on family therapy duty today. Whatever blood is spilt, they’re cleaning it up. If I come back and see a maid doing that shit, I’m setting this entire house on fire with both of them inside.”

She’d walk over to Oswald and kiss him on the cheek. As she does so she swipes the keys from his pocket and walks toward the door. Everyone watches as she goes.

“Be back later, love you all!” She’d say, a clear attempt to try and push down any anger she was feeling.

She didn’t want her mood to be sour when she met up with Jim. As the door shut behind her, everyone just turns to look back at Y/N.

“Oh she’s definitely on her period.” Y/N concluded with a smile. “You heard what the lady said, she wants blood she’d and carnage.” She would sip her drink, even further amused as it dawns on everyone they’ve been used.

“Unbelievable.” Basil says, shaking his head.

But sitting down to watch as Y/N just hands him the full bottle of wine she’d been nursing.

“You’re insane.” Oswald grumbles as he also goes to leave the room.

Victor and Edward just stand there dumbfounded, not sure what to do next. Victor cracks his knuckles.

“I’m going to give you a five minuet head start.” He tells the man in green.

“One- Two-“

Yeah, Edwards supposed to be a genius, so he doesn’t even wait for three before he’s sprinting for the door. He’d have to think of a good way to shake Zsasz. They’d watch after him until he was out of sight. Victor just turns back to his wife.

“You’re not going after him are you?” She asks amused.

“No, that idiot can die tomorrow, you on the other hand-“

And Basil takes that as his que to leave. He knows where all that pent up rage is going to leave. And frankly he doesn’t want to see them hate fuck each other.

An; lol I love sassy Maggie in this chapter. I was just in a silly goofy mood today guys, so so is she. We all know Edward ran to the Sirens club to hide.

@keffirinne @flaysthings @howl-fantasies

[sincerely-krp]

that being said, the right answer to the person's concerns is not to shit on them for bringing to attention to the masses behavior they found concerning, but perhaps to open a dialogue about how we can admin without being bullies. /

also an admin here! i don't post on sincerely but i do keep up. i'm glad to hear your perspective because i had a similar one? my friends were like 'SEE, IT WAS WRONG THEY TALKED TO ME LIKE THIS' when reading op's post. that did wonders.

like there are situations that have never been mentioned here that absolutely do need to be called out. an insidigm admin once told this friend's friend (i saw the screenshots because their friend was having a panic attack and they came to me since i admin to get my opinion) that the admin team violating a trigger posted on their profile was not their fault, and that it was that member's fault for having that reaction. like? i sent this ahead to sincerely (which honestly this trend seems to be pretty efficient). also the public humiliation alone in that krp turned off good writers from krping ever again.

i just saw it again, but like that clique likes to think the au krp community is obsessed with them; have they considered that they were really just that bad? krp is not just a silly little hobby when people are angry about each other. it's certainly not a silly little hobby when admins abuse their power to ostracize or demean a member in ways that can remove them from their communities and sully their ability to build connections with a large group of people ever again. like wow the amount of friendships i saw break over this clique, friendships years old even. that's pretty fucked.

・❥・

[samanthaandlife]

That night I didn’t sleep much. I knew something was wrong but I couldn’t figure out what was bothering me. The shame and humiliation that angered me just didn’t sit well with me. I knew, at some level, that I was overreacting and the feelings I had were not paring with my other emotions. As Aiden snored I relived so many conversations that we had. I realized that he told me to go without my panties, what did I think was going to happen? No, he didn’t tell me when and where we were going to have sex but I was so excited at the thought when we left. Didn’t I, just a few years earlier, promise to be a slut? My hang up wasn’t having sex, wasn’t even have public sex, I was mad because he didn’t tell me! My entire anger and resentment all stemmed from not knowing when my perfect boyfriend wanted to have sex with me! In time, I finally calmed down and started to work on my future expectations.

I welcomed Aiden when he woke in the morning. With his aftercare I told him all about my mental debate. He was so pleased and we made love again! Just as I was getting ready to hop in the shower, Sally texted asking if I wanted to meet for lunch. I knew she wanted to talk about what happened last night but, in my mind, I was at peace. I didn’t really want to go, sorry Sally, but I knew how important being friends with Aiden’s friends were to him. I told him about the text and he immediately encouraged me to go and seemed really happy when I agreed.

We met at a great little taco place, in a shopping mall, the food was great but the conservation was so much better! Sally and I had a lot of similar experiences and I felt an immediate connection! She shared that she and her bf had only been together for 6 months but she just assumed, at this point, they would eventually marry. We both loved being with strong Alfa males and how they made us feel so feminine. Neither of us pictured ourselves being in such a submissive relationship as we found ourselves but we both seemed to enjoy the control release. We promised to watch each other’s back and just like that, I had an alliance in the friend group and more importantly and new best friend!

At home Aiden was so happy for the news, his friend Charles, Sally’s bf, was probably his best friend. According to Aiden, The other guys seemed to change girls more often than I change my bra! He was so happy with my new friendship with Sally, he made the most gentle and loving sex we had, maybe ever have. I felt on top of the world, like Sally, I felt like we would be together forever! But behind the scenes, his message was always, truth, obey, comply were reinforced.

[lacunasbalustrade]

for the word game! "home", "treasure", "epiphany" (u can find synonyms! epiphany might be a little tough hehe)

Thank you~ for yours, I’ll send “stay”, “blinked”, and “redemption”!!! Synonyms also ^^

- home

[bury me with your regrets]

He smoothed up the crumpled paper with its dog-eared edges and slipped it in on his way home.

Miwa left a note of regrets neatly pressed in his neighbour's mailbox after an economics lecture. Actually, this line is fun to think about, plucked out from the rest of the paper. "Smoothed up the crumpled paper", he's a caring and meticulous person. Maybe a little too focused on his public appearance. "Dog-eared edges", he's a messy person and perhaps fidgets with his writing paper for comfort (like me hehe), or perhaps dog-eared is a reference to his nature. Perhaps he's making an effort to be less warm and inviting, like a dog, to depersonify the piece of himself that he trusted to his neighbour, like a last line of defence to make it all seem more humourous.

On his way home. But where is home? Miwa doesn't really have a home. The apartment is empty and no one he knows lives there. He moved out of his family place. It's ironic that I meant the opposite of what I said.

[bury me with your regrets]

But against his will his meddlesome feet take over and drag him to his mailbox. His traitorous (or perhaps wise) fingers squeeze out one sentence. "I can't do this anymore." Then he runs back to his home and buries himself in a stack of documents he needs to get filed. Paperwork, mostly old certificates and things like that. Invitations he should have thrown away by now but instead has lugged from place to place like a weary despair. Halfway through he realises he's throwing everything into the 'Recycle' pile.

Do I only use 'home' ironically? More like cave of regrets and unwashed uncleaned stuff.

[k & co]

You scrub at them like you're possessed; the brand new turquoise toothbrush you threw out because you used it when you were Reversed, the contents of your leftover budget beef stew made in New York with extra caramelised onions after a day spent Reversing fighters downtown, the rain shower at home that you sprayed with Dettol until you were coughing from the stench, until you came to Card Capital smelling of the disinfectant.

In this one, Kai Toshiki tries to alienate all traces of himself from a time that he regretted. He had accepted a dark power, and it was such a source of humiliation for him that he tried to clean himself away from his own home, until it literally became toxic for him. Until actual physiological effects took place. He succeeded in making a familiar environment reject him, and still came back to it every day, perhaps in order to harm himself.

[the suffering breaths we draw through chains]

They are stained a light, golden brown impervious to water; made of some sort of newfangled scratch-proof cellulose acetate overlay you use to cover up rotten, misplaced or maybe unappealing planks (Sofia reads way too many home renovation magazines) - but they still squeak, and in the gaps of those acetate planks I can hear the testament of how incomplete your life here is, Hyoryu.

This one is a little affectionate, and gives me some hope for the dastardly pessimism of my writing. Rouga works always are.

[k & co]

You are just a friend, just a friend, just a friend, and that comes without any baggage, you'll never feel like you owe something to me, I can be the one you're comfortable around, someone you can find waiting for you at home.

(I gave up on formatting the lines back to normal here lol)

This one is marginally better. Miwa Taishi is denying that there are any expectations of each other in his friendship with Toshiki Kai in an attempt to pretend that nothing has changed in their dynamic and that he's merely a convenient fixture, when Kai in actuality feels deep gratitude to him and wants to repay it. Uncomfortable with the feeling of being appreciated, he tries to keep everything the same; and Kai distracted.

- treasure (includes synonyms)

[open wide]

Miguel is her present, in more ways than one, a gift whose heart cannot be given because it already belongs to their lord, but whom has given her everything he can take without incurring debt.

Small mercies, that he cannot break his own heart.

what is wrong with me why is this so horribly sarcastic.

[progressively worse is all we've got]

But I continue to recall these reasons in the glaring blood of the dying sun and continue to trail behind you as you still wait for me instead of walking beside, instead of leading.

What for?

You could never be a regret, but I want so much more than that for you; someone who has been holding my cowardice as a treasure for such a long, painful time.

This is basically grief ok?

[the suffering breaths we draw through chains]

You can't just throw away the years I treasured for you when I threw away every opportunity other people gave me because I saved it all for you. Kyoya you can't just lie to me and then treat me like a dirty rag you were keeping around out of pity, I thought we were equals!

The idea of grief again.

[what can’t hurt you] There are occasionally wild herbs the army chef Kai finds and hoards like a dragon, but he can be persuaded with a little pleading to share some of his bounty. He wraps these in little notes and has them posted back to the country house. Every herb will help with the bills. 

this at least doesn’t seem to have any negative connotation (who am I kidding this character DIES)

- epiphany

[reminder of a safe return]

It's a full two years before Rouga takes a glance in the mirror with Eagle on his shoulder and realises the extent of Kyoya's obsession with imagery.

Or well perhaps that’s me and not Rouga.

[ajwinter-is-a-nerd]

Le Chat et le Serpent - Chapter 37

Please note that the entirety of this story is a ****TRIGGER WARNING***** - mentions of child abuse, graphic violence, alcohol use, mental health, suicide, suicidal ideation, self-harm - basically a constant blow of pain towards the characters - as well as some "steamier" moments.

Chapter Summary:

Luka helps Adrien prepare for his house warming party.

We have another party! So much seems to happen when we cram these people together - I can never seem to keep it within a single chapter.

Chapter 37: These Little Wonders

Adrien fretted over the angle of each bottle in the bar. Luka hugged him from behind, “No one is going to notice if the bottles aren’t perfectly faced.” 

Adrien sucked in his cheeks, still focused on perfecting the display. Considering the house was still largely vacant, this was one of the few things he had on display, he wanted it to be perfect. 

Adrien’s face continued to scrunch without alteration as Luka tightened his grip around him. 

“Babe, they’re just going to be happy to see your new place.” Attempting to further convince his Prettyboy, he ran his lips against Adrien’s neck as he spoke, peppering as many kisses as possible below his ear. 

These actions of comfort, however, led to one of the subjects he was trying to distract himself from. Luka’s touch always carried a mollifying effect when it was just the two of them; it was contradictory that the same touch that would calm his fires was also the one that ignited them outside of their hidden coves. This new apartment gave him the sensation of freedom and independence, but he didn’t know if that would be enough to mute the anxiety that burns before an audience when Luka steps near. 

That’s funny, because I thought it was different too. But I thought that was because it was more, not less.

Luka’s vexed words remained a prickling warning at Adrien’s thoughts. Everyone at the party would think Luka was with Chat Noir, would that increase the indescribable distance his body demanded to separate from Luka? If the painful urge for detachment took over, would someone have to peel a trembling Adrien off the rock wall? 

That would certainly be the last I’d see of Luka. Adrien internally answered his cycling line of questions. He pictured Nino struggling to boulder below him as Luka stormed out, slamming the doors behind him. 

He couldn’t seem to discern what would be appropriate for him and Luka even just as friends. When they were younger, he was still smitten over the blue haired dream boy; it was hard to convey an appearance of platonic friendship when it never felt as if it truly existed. Would a friend ask about his relationship? What had Luka told the others about him and Chat? 

Maybe I’ll just ditch my own party, come as Chat. Tell everyone Adrien is out of commission from an uncontrollable bout of diarrhoea. 

It was fascinating that he would prefer purposeful public humiliation than to risk accidentally brushing Luka’s hand with the possibility of his best friends seeing. 

This party felt like an ultimatum; a test on his behaviour displayed to his friends. An ultimatum that he thoughtlessly pushed upon himself. 

The continued embrace of affection from Luka seemed to force these thoughts to spiral more turbently. Adrien worried that if he wasn’t careful, he’d incite a nosebleed before anyone had a chance to come. 

Breaking from his whirlpool of affliction, Adrien veered his attention to the details he could control. 

“Should I have bought more snacks?” Adrien kept his gaze fixed on the bar as Luka broke his hold with a sigh. 

Luka turned towards the counter, planning to immediately dismiss Adrien’s obsessiveness, and then saw a completely empty platter. They really should have reconsidered taking out the dairy platter early. Walking to the counter, each of Luka’s steps were meticulously planned out, he purposefully stood within Adrien’s line of sight. That way, if he did turn around, he wouldn’t notice the flaw caused by Plagg’s gluttony. 

“I’m sure there’s more than enough.” Luka loudly reassured Adrien as he jetted the empty platter into the garbage. 

Adrien resorted to pacing, focusing on possibilities to fill the voids of the room. 

“You don’t think we’re missing something?” Adrien resorted to chewing on the edge of his index knuckle, helpless to manage the stress of his relationship or the future satisfaction of his visitors. 

Luka stepped in Adrien’s path, blocking him from his fretful laps. This time, Luka didn’t let him ignore his comfort and smushed the sides of his face. “It’s purrrrffect .” 

“Ah! Careful, I have concealer on!” Adrien broke from Luka’s playful hold and ran towards the mirror. He needed to ensure Luka’s marks were hidden. 

Crossing his arms, Luka leaned against the doorframe of the guest bathroom. He watched as Adrien flipped his face side to side in his reflection, searching for any purple that blurred through his mask. After a few moments, Luka spun the boy around. 

Luka lifted Adrien’s chin to inspect for any blemishes. “Just as expected, perfect.” 

The violet may not have seeped through Adrien’s concealer, but his blush did. 

“Come on,” Luka tugged at Adrien’s hand. 

Finally submitting to Luka’s will, Adrien followed, akin to a dog on a leash. Luka walked him over to the other edge of the apartment where the grand piano sat. 

“I spent all day yesterday finding you the perfect piano. At least test it out.” Luka pushed Adrien to the seat. 

“On one condition.” Adrien reefed down on Luka’s arm. 

Smirking, Luka brought his fingers up to the keys. “I hate to disappoint you, but I have not had a chance to practise.” 

“Just find a few notes and set the tone.” Adrien suggestively raised his brows at Luka’s hovering hand. 

Reverting to the brief moments of Adrien’s ‘lessons’, Luka started playing the one tune he knew by heart. 

“Hey!” Adrien shoved Luka. “This is not the time for Twinkle Twinkle!” He snorted, unable to finish his ruling with a straight face. 

“I don’t know, I think it was pretty good.” Luka coyly smiled under Adrien’s emerald gaze. 

Wrapping his right hand against Luka’s right hip, Adrien slid against him. With a brush of his lips against Luka’s cheek, he blindly started playing notes. Luka marvelled at Adrien’s quick fingers forging a stunning tune using only three keys. 

“Well that’s just unfair.” Luka chuckled as his hypnotic state continued. 

“Just find a few notes and make a pace. You know too much about music to pretend you can’t fathom that.” Adrien’s jovial words were whispered against Luka’s skin. 

Smiling bashfully, Luka tapped to find a pace that matched the moment. The first was too high and resonated as a broken beauty. The second was quick but without purpose, like a dog chasing its tail while occasionally tumbling. The third blended a brisk tempo and an elegant energy to create a pleasant silken rotation. 

Enjoying his decision, Luka entered into a state of repetition, ensuring each round was identical to the last. 

“Oh, beautiful, I love it!” Adrien beamed at Luka’s increasingly relaxed composure as he found his beat. 

The Kwamis, interested in the ruckus, were hovering over the piano. Sass swayed as Plagg bopped in excitement, knowing that he was likely going to be called upon. 

Adrien took both of his hands to melodically overlap Luka’s tonal foundation. 

“Sass!” Adrien lifted his dominant hand to the Kwami as his left kept dancing. “I need you to play the high notes!” Adrien pointed to the keys on the opposite side of Luka. 

Never have taken on a task of this form, Sass crept with a confused diligence as he approached the keys. 

“Plagg!” Adrien shifted his pointing hand to the remaining Kwami. “Show him how it’s done!” 

Plagg immediately dove to the keys, dancing above and around Adrien’s practised fingers. Understanding, Sass started stepping on notes. Though his addition was mostly an uncoordinated step back and forth between the highest B and C, his face lit up at the music he was creating. 

Luka rested his temple against Adrien’s head as the disjointed song echoed through the loft. The melody was jumbled, but pure, carrying a happiness that could not be duplicated.

It was these divine moments of playfulness and joy that would influence Adrien’s loathing of this piano. 

Luka’s phone vibrated the chair beneath them, breaking their tune. His phone displayed Juleka’s picture. “Hello? You guys are here? Awesome. Yep - I’ll get him to open it up, just park anywhere in that lot. Perfect. See you in a minute.” 

As Luka spoke, Adrien opened his phone, inputting the appropriate overrides. It was easier than most guests since Juleka was driving the Impala, which had Adrien’s garage door fob clipped onto the sun visor. 

Luka never wanted to hide their relationship, but he was willing to get Juleka to drive his car to create an illusion that they came together. He wouldn’t lie if confronted, but it reduced the odds of the question being asked. 

“That car’s a piece of shit.” Juleka muttered as her and Rose stood in the elevator waiting for Adrien to send it up. 

“It just needs a little love!” Rose defended the vehicle, all too aware of the fact that it wasn’t the true source of Juleka’s petulance. 

The elevator dinged before it started its ascension. Rose held Juleka’s hand with whitening knuckles. Though her flawless face was stoic, Rose knew her all too well. She knew that Juleka was struggling to suffocate her rage at both Luka and Adrien. 

A second ding indicated their arrival to Adrien’s loft. The doors opened to Adrien beaming at the edge of the exit of the ‘staging area’, between the grand mahogany doors that were propped open. 

Daizzi was the first to pop out, the only one within the elevator that was not concerned over the possibility of tense interactions. She was ecstatic to marvel at the new house. Trepidatiously, Roarr petered along behind her. Roarr was too focused on identifying signs of Plagg’s whereabouts than to subject herself to architectural fascination. 

“Hey! Thank you so much for coming!” Adrien demonstrated his enthusiasm through erratic jazz hands. 

“Of course! I’m so happy you’re finally able to throw your own party!” Rose reflected Adrien’s elevated mood. Juleka, however, did not. 

“How do you like the piano?” Juleka’s tone was cold as she ignored Luka’s presence and looked towards Adrien. 

Luka had left Adrien in the dark over his and Juleka’s tiff. Which felt like the best decision at the time, but left Adrien extremely bewildered at the anger behind Juleka’s words. 

Uncomfortably, Adrien pushed forward a smile. 

“I love it! It’s absolutely amazing, thank you for helping pick it out.” By the end of his sentence, his grin became genuine. The Steinway was an honest masterpiece. 

Roarr pulled Daizzi aside once she caught Sass waving towards her. Unbeknownst to their holders, all the Kwamis congregated in Adrien’s walk-in closet. 

Luka stood behind Adrien, uncomfortably tapping at his jeans. He may wear dress shirts increasingly regularly, but the fancy pants often felt too alien. Adrien may chide the clash of expensive shirts atop cheap aged denim, but the soft pants couldn’t offer the same frictional outlet when he encountered discomforting moments. The taps against his jeans were audible as he felt the sting of Juleka’s glare. 

Adrien swung his head back and forth between the siblings before landing on Rose, hoping that she could provide answers to the thick tension that filled the room. 

Before anyone was forced to speak, a shrill shriek nearly shattered the windows within the loft. Nearly everyone had the same reaction of turning to one another in surprise, but Rose was quite familiar with the voice. 

“Daizzi?” Rose beckoned as she ran forward, uncertain of which direction to go. 

A muffled commotion from Adrien’s closet navigated Rose to the location of yelp. Adrien and Luka shared a momentary visage of fright before they bolted after Rose. Juleka was already four steps ahead of them. 

As a group, they nearly reached the landing of the loft before Sass flew out towards them. 

“Nothing to worry about. Daizzi was just… catching up.” Sass attempted to wave off their worries.

Rose’s lips pursed in defiance, irritated at her inability to care for her Kwami. Seeing her girlfriend’s distress, Juleka pushed forward, ignoring the masculine chorus telling her to stop. 

“Plagg!” Roarr hissed as she held her paw over Daizzi’s mouth. “You need to hide!” 

Plagg, tired of the constant restraint of secrecy, laid leisurely as steps thudded closer. “What’s the point?” He asked lazily. “They already know.” 

Roarr knew that it was true that Juleka had already pieced it together. Inevitably, she told Rose. She kept the secret for as long as she could, but once Luka came home covered in blood her restraint dissipated. However, considering what Roarr had just learnt, she didn’t want to add any additional forms of stressors into Adrien’s life. 

Juleka slammed forward into the walk-in closet to find Plagg lounging as Roarr continued her feeble attempt to mute Daizzi. 

“What happened?” Her voice was brusk, unintentionally falling on the dark Kwami. 

The rest of the holders were hot on her heels, shadowing her entrance to the closet, Adrien somehow caught in the back. Luka’s attempts to hold Adrien back were futile as he pushed to the front. 

The colour drained from Adrien’s face as Plagg confidentially hovered before everyone. Stunned, Adrien slipped to the floor. 

“Oh, stop being so dramatic.” Plagg calmly floated to Adrien’s collapsed body. “I promise I’ll hide when the others come.”

Mimicking an average house cat, Plagg curled up in the crook of Adrien’s collar with a warm purr. 

Adrien’s green eyes strobed in confusion. The flashing gems landed on Luka’s cringe. “You-they…-what-?” 

In a classic ‘who dun it’ moment, Luka darted his gaze to Juleka and Rose. Somehow, in his ranting discussions about Adrien, he never took a moment to register how things would alter once Chat and Viperion kissed. He should have known that Juleka wouldn’t casually assume that he was cheating on Adrien with Chat. Somehow, he was too distracted by the prolonged temporal shifts between the two (or four, depending on your perception) men. 

Both Juleka and Rose wrinkled their noses as they pointed towards one another. 

Adrien slumped completely to the floor. “Well, fuck.” 

“Yeah, and now that it’s out in the open, you and I have a lot to talk about.” Juleka gritted as she neared Adrien, who was understandably still reeling over his leaked identity. 

Protectively, Plagg plunged forward from his relaxed position. “No! You leave him alone!” 

Adrien had never heard Plagg speak with such viciousness. He didn’t understand the agony that Plagg was enduring and why it was so important to the Kwami that Juleka couldn’t voice her frustrations. 

“It really is for the better.” Daizzi lowered her head in search of a place to rest. 

“How did you get all the Kwamis on your side?” Juleka crossed her arms in defiance. 

Carefully, Luka stepped nearer to Adrien. Plagg suppressed the urge to hiss at him, not wanting to give Adrien yet another reason to be angry at him.  

Adrien willingly grabbed Luka’s hand to be pulled up. As he was brought to the surface, it still felt as though he was drowning. Overwhelmed by the secrecy of the Kwamis, by Juleka’s evident rage towards him, and by his own leaked identity, he just wanted the world to stop spinning. 

There was only one person he wanted to see. Only one person he wanted to touch as he fought for stability. For once, his body did exactly what he pined for and crumpled into Luka. This motion surprised everyone, including Adrien. He was so accustomed to a tether that pulled him back that it was a thrilling free fall dive to his hiding place. His nose nuzzled along the droop of Luka’s collar bone. 

Luka’s entire body stiffed at Adrien’s contact. He expected something aggressive, but all that came was a warm nose running against his neck. It was so mignon, so obviously a lover seeking protection. Muscles in Luka relaxed as they warmed against Adrien; an adoring sense of disbelief at their first real touch before an audience. The pain against Luka’s skin from shrugged hands and cold shoulders was dulled by his love’s heart against his. Weakened, Luka’s hands were delicate as they held Adrien tighter. His right hand wrapped around Adrien’s lower back while the other curled to cradle the nape of his neck. There was no discomforted shudder as his fingers slid through silken hair. 

“Oooh! This is so exciting! Now that everyone knows we can go on couples dates and -,” Rose’s squeals were paused by Juleka’s finger. 

From everything Luka had told her, this moment was a first, which was further supported by his dazzled shock. She didn’t understand why Luka constantly submitted himself to the agony, but at this moment, his body was crumpling in relief around Adrien. Bright blue eyes watered in blissful shock as he nuzzled his nose into the head of the man he held so tightly against him. The anger she harboured slinked to the side as the tangible sense of adoration emanated from Luka. 

Luka’s lips reached Adrien's hair, firmly kissing his scalp over and over. With a final kiss, he whispered into his golden locks, “Are you okay?” 

Plagg was atop Luka’s shoulder, hovering in wait for the inevitable cascade of blood.

Adrien pulled from his place of warmth by Luka’s throat. Luka adjusted his hands to Adrien’s waist, prolonging their entangled connection. Adrien arched backwards to meet Luka’s face, which was now trickling tears, causing Adrien’s brows to furrow. “Are you okay?” He dotingly thumbed the tears off of the flushed face.

Bewitched, Plagg jumped into the gap between the boys, staring up Adrien’s nose. 

“Plagg!” Adrien batted at his nose, tickled by the Kwami’s whiskers. 

“Interesting…” Plagg tilted his head, sending another uncontrollable flinch from Adrien. 

Sass joined Plagg in the inspection of Adrien’s face, trying to decipher what the lack of reaction meant in this situation. 

“That must be a massive booger.” Juleka broke the silence of the spectacle of the inside of Adrien’s nose. 

Sass slowly shook his head as he spoke. “It’s nothing, just… wanted to make sure he was okay.” Sass motioned for Plagg to follow him, wanting to further discuss their new finding. 

Adrien ran his finger along his nose, just in case there was a booger that he was unaware of. He wondered if both of them were just really concerned about his stress nosebleeds, or if it was part of the great secrets they have been recently holding. 

Luka palmed Adrien’s jaw, slightly tipping up his chin. “Nope, you’re all clear.” He reassured the boy, just in case. 

A relaxed smile curved through Adrien’s lips. “Thank you, M’Love.” Without thought, he pushed forward to meet Luka’s lips. 

Dropping his eyelids, Luka savoured the moment, the entire room and audience fading away. 

“When does everyone else get here?” Rose was starting to pull at drawers and press buttons on random surfaces and remotes, fascinated at the sheer intricacy of the place. “Oh, what does this button do?” 

Metal screeched as the windows steeled shut. 

“Okay, that’s pretty cool.” Juleka grabbed the remote from Rose, interested at what else was automated within the house. 

Luka held Adrien’s face close to his as he responded to Rose's first question. “They should be coming in about half an hour.” 

“OH MY GOD, YOUR WHOLE WALL CAN TURN INTO A TV?” Rose stole the remote back from Juleka, playing with the adjustable section projectors installed upon the window covers. 

“Does anyone want a drink?” Adrien asked wistfully as he plunged in the depth of Luka’s bright seas. Luka had spent hours staring into him, but he never shone with such an array of delight and serenity. 

Rose was about to answer before Juleka slightly jammed her ribs. Whispering, she directed Rose to go downstairs. She wasn’t sure exactly what had just happened, but she didn’t want them to be the reason that light left Luka’s eyes. 

An extra wave of satisfaction pooled over Juleka as she heard their shared declarations of love. Maybe they had a chance after all. 

Author's Note:

In case you were wondering - here’s the “public” difference. When in Adrien’s office, if they’re barred away they’re technically in his private space, but the moment it’s open to others (even Alya and Nino) it duplicates as a business/public setting. His house is fully free reign - it’s entirely his private domain.

I think Plagg is going to lose it before the humans do!

I love the moment of Luka crumpling. In my head it’s just a huge moment for him. That feeling of ‘finally’ mixed with just pure love and devotion.

Could anyone else all too easily see Chat making jokes about Adrien’s bowel issues? Because I sure could haha

The piano moment was definitely inspired by the one where Plagg makes Adrien laugh in the show, one of my favourite sweet moments.

I really enjoy pulling on the Couffaine protection/closeness. Juleka is ready to throw some elbows, even if it means losing her modelling career. So sweet!

…also… the solo contract… mmmm… it will have future things I swear!

Disclaimer * The characters and original plot were written and created by Thomas Astruc. This writing is merely an interpretation in a sad gay type of way.

[gantz20]

Player Nam Daehyun (20) has been successfully added to the roster. They were a Kpop Idol who was tenderhearted, oblivious, and meek before joining the game. Their hobbies included comic books and boxing. Their special skill is claimed to be “Photographic memory”

there isn’t a single point in nam daehyun’s life in which he’s been allowed even the vaguest sense of independence, always stuck under someone’s thumb - first his parents’, then his company’s, then the public’s - jumping when they want him to jump, begging when they want him to beg, dancing when they want him to dance. being that ro5y is not - and will not ever be, dae’s a dreamer, sure, but he’s not delusional - one of the most popular groups in korea, it adds another layer of humiliation on top of everything. all these hoops they make him jump through, the little tricks he’s asked to perform every interview without fail, the commodification of his closest friendships… all of this, and they’re not even all that famous. sure, their debut was pretty big, but they fell off as soon as something else was just ever so slightly bigger, left behind by an uncaring public. if he’d known that it was going to be like this, daehyun probably would’ve thought twice about accepting the offer the talent scout ( who had all but followed daehyun, who had been barely 15 at the time, home from school, now that he thinks about it ? ) had given him that day. at the time, it had been exciting - who doesn’t want to become famous??? - but now… he wishes he’d just stayed struggling through math class. that’s not to say everything about idol life is terrible though: his members are his best friends in the entire world, and not just because he doesn’t really know a world outside of being a part of ro5y, either. even if he did know more people his own age, outside of the others in his group, he’s certain he’d still like them best. after all, he’s their leader, even though he isn’t the oldest member, and although at first he had questioned the decision, the logic ultimately proved sound when, at the first sign of a threat to the other members, nam daehyun folded completely. it’s not like they’d come out the gate swinging, or anything. not like he’d shown up to be a trainee and as soon as he’d signed the contract the devil himself had started laughing. if that had been the case, daehyun wouldn’t have signed on to become a part of ro5y in the first place. no, in fact… everything was great. well, as great as it can be, considering how small the company was. they didn’t always have enough money to go around, but one of the other trainee’s parents helped cover a lot of the costs, so things were tight, but not unbearable. but it was life, and it was real. they may have been struggling, but they were struggling together. the beginning of so many great kpop group stories, right? it wasn’t until their second comeback, which didn’t do as well as the others, that daehyun first heard the devil laughing in his ears, mocking him about a contract long since signed. it was easy, natural even, to take the fall for it, to bear the brunt of the anger. after all, he was the leader, so their shortcomings were his own, right?

[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.

[starryhyuck]

pride. (m)

pairing: sugardaddy!xiaojun x reader

words: 4.7k+

summary: stacked with two jobs, tuition bills and rent payments, an opportunity falls into your lap that leaves you wanting more.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: creampie, breeding kink, semi-public sex, oral sex, degradation, overstimulation

It all started before you hit rock bottom.

When you enrolled in college and decided to study music, your parents refused to pay for your tuition as they had hoped you would pursue law instead. You’ve been passionate about music since you were younger, and financial burdens were not going to hold you back from pursuing your dreams.

You spend most school nights working a low wage job, and switch to a different low wage job on the weekends. You hardly had time to balance studies and work, but in order to make ends meet, you fill your body with caffeine and call it a day.

You’re in the middle of wiping down the counter of the campus’s local ice cream parlor, ignoring the email you received from your landlord minutes ago. It was yet another warning notice to pay last month’s rent, a task you’ve been putting off for weeks.

There’s barely anyone who comes into the shop this late at night on a weekday, only a few who have a midnight craving they have to fulfill. You’re surprised when Doyeon comes barging into the shop at half past midnight, dressed to the nines in her custom Versace gown.

She sighs and throws herself down on one of the parlor chairs. “I feel sick to my stomach. Is it possible for your intestines to hurt so much from champagne?”

You laugh at her. Doyeon was your first friend when you came to campus, and you were blissfully unaware of how wealthy she was until three months into your friendship. Her mother recently remarried and Doyeon despised her stepdad, but she never had any complaints about the money he carried with him. Doyeon’s offered to pay off some of your loans so that you wouldn’t have to work two jobs, but you always turned down her offer. You couldn’t take money from her — you had to have a little bit of pride.

“What happened now? More sleazy old men hitting on you?” You question, leaning over the counter to ask her.

“You know me so well,” she sighs, her curled hair styled perfectly down her shoulders. She removes her heels for a bit so she can breathe. “And Doyoung was complaining the entire time, pissing off my mom. You know how my brother is.”

You’ve met Doyoung once or twice, and he was very similar to Doyeon — confident, smart and not afraid to speak what’s on his mind. Doyoung had a very difficult time adjusting to their mother’s new beau.

“You know what would be nice?” Doyeon asks, eyelashes fluttering at you. “If you come with me next time.”

“You know I can’t,” you decline, moving to check on the tubs of ice cream. “I’m too busy with work and school. Can’t leave for a night of luxury.”

“But you can,” she whines loudly. “Just let me pay your rent for last month and we’ll call it even!”

You roll your eyes. “I hardly call that even, Doyeon.”

She huffs. “Please? I can’t stand to go to another one of these things and listen to those snotty people tell me how lucky I am that my mom found that douchebag. You would make it so much more fun, and save me from a night of torture.”

For the first time, you’re contemplating Doyeon’s offer. You’ve known for a long time now that you’re running low on funds, and you’re scared that if you don’t find a way to pay your landlord, he’ll end up evicting you. Your eyes glance up to meet Doyeon’s, who has her puppy dog gaze turned on.

You sigh. “Just one event. That’s it.”

She squeals, and almost jumps over the counter to hug you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you, thank you!”

You awkwardly pat her back. “Yeah, yeah.”

—

Doyeon failed to tell you that the event she was dragging you to would actually take place within a week.

You scrambled to find a dress and how to style your hair, knowing that if you showed up in an off-brand name, you would immediately look like an outcast. Doyeon saved you from the humiliation, shoving you into a Valentino dress that had your eyes rolling out of your head at the price tag. She also hired a hairstylist on the day of to come over and fix you up, which you clearly disagreed on until Doyeon told you it wasn’t up for debate.

And now, here you were, standing in the middle of the most luxurious place you’ve ever stepped foot in. Doyeon leans over to whisper to you while you’re eyeing the waiters and waitresses walking around with trays of champagne.

“Just smile and act like you only care about money.”

She tugs you forward and you try your best to match her pace. A girl approaches you two first, nails wrapped around the stem of her glass. She’s wearing one of the most beautiful gowns you’ve ever seen, a Chanel piece her mother imported for the event.

“Hyojung, you’re way too young to be drinking anything,” Doyeon scolds.

“Calm down, mom. No one’s snitching except you. Who have you brought?”

Doyeon beams and loops her arm through yours. “This is my friend from college.” She gives Hyojung your name and you offer your best smile.

Hyojung returns your grin. “Nice to meet you. Where do your parents work?”

Doyeon opens her mouth to tell Hyojung the truth, but you stop her.

“They own a few chain businesses in our hometown. Nothing too grand,” you inform. Hyojung nods in agreement, eyes darting somewhere else.

“Well, Chanwoo is here. I’m going to get the gossip that he owes me from last time.”

When Hyojung leaves, Doyeon frowns at you. “Why did you lie?” She questions.

You shrug. “I would rather not be a fish out of water here more than I already am. It’s better if people think I’m at least middle class.”

“Okay,” she says slowly. “You know I’m not ashamed of you, right?”

You giggle and pat her cheek. “Of course I know.”

“Finally!” You hear someone exclaim, and you turn to see Doyoung rushing over to the two of you. “Where the hell have you been? Mom’s going to murder you for showing up so late.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Relax. We took a long time getting ready.”

Doyoung smiles gently at you before tugging his sister away. You feel even more awkward, hands folding together as you sway in the middle of the room. The people around you are talking animatedly and you can faintly hear the sound of the violin in the back of the room. You wonder if you should pretend to go to the bathroom or find somewhere to sit-

“Never seen you here before.”

You turn to see a guy your age, dressed in a full Armani suit and Rolex watch shining under the sparkling chandelier. You awkwardly clear your throat.

“Uh, yeah. My friend brought me. Do I look that weird?”

He chuckles, running a hand through his chestnut locks. “You look beautiful. I’ve just been to plenty of these galas before and I’ve pretty much memorized the guest list.”

Your heart lingers on his compliment and you avert your gaze.

“My first one. Are they always like this?”

“Boring, you mean?”

You laugh and he joins in. You swear you feel butterflies frantically flying in your stomach.

“So, what’s your story? Also have rich parents?” You ask.

He nods. “My mother owns half of the city’s major businesses. I’m Xiaojun, by the way.” You give him your name and he smiles, motioning to the back of the room. “Want to talk where it’s a little less loud?”

You agree, smiling and taking his arm as he leads you to the less chatty part of the room. You both sit on a luxurious velvet couch, a piece of furniture that most likely costs more than your entire apartment. Xiaojun hands you a glass of champagne, his smile taking your breath away.

“Tell me a little bit about yourself,” he muses, eyeing you carefully.

You laugh. “Is this a job interview?”

He shrugs. “Could be.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his answer, but you figure rich people were always weird and vague like that. “I go to the same college as Doyeon, and I’m studying music. Not really much to say, I spend most of my time working.”

He nods, and you can’t place what the look in his eye is for.

“Music, that’s interesting. What made you decide to take on such a daunting major?”

“Daunting as in it’s not law or business?” You counter, giving him a look.

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, no judgment here. In my world, I haven’t met anyone who isn’t a law or business major. It’s nice to have a change of scenery.”

He challenges your gaze, and you feel a warmth in your stomach you haven’t felt in months. You jump when you hear the shriek of your name and Doyeon comes charging towards the two of you.

“There you are! Jesus, I had to hear Doyoung fight with my stepdad for almost ten minutes.” Her exasperation turns into surprise when she sees Xiaojun seated next to you. “Oh! Hey, Dejun. Didn’t see you there.”

He offers a smile. “Hi, Doyeon.”

“Do you mind if I pull her away for a bit?” Doyeon asks, but she’s already looped your arm through hers. You slightly protest when she tugs you away from Xiaojun, but you’re immediately distracted by her next question. “What the hell were you doing talking to him? You know what Xiaojun is famous for, right?”

You frown, looking over your shoulder again to see him, watching as his line of sight carefully follows you and Doyeon.

“No, I don’t. He seemed nice. What’s the issue?”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “He’s a sugar daddy. Always looking for new sugar babies to satisfy him. He’s been blowing through girls like the wind for the past year. He’s not good, and I don’t want you in his company without me.”

You try to process that the man you were just talking to was, in fact, scoping you out to get a potential new sugar baby. You can’t wrap your mind around it, even when Doyeon drags you to the corner of the room, where Doyoung and her stepdad are still fighting.

Your eyes linger on Xiaojun’s table, but he’s already long gone.

—

“Nice shop you got here.”

You practically jump out of your shoes at the sound of the familiar voice, almost spilling a cup of ice cream down your front. You nearly get whiplash with how fast you spin around, eyes widening at the sight of Xiaojun standing in the middle of the ice cream shop. Your manager, Seojeong, raises an eyebrow at your skittish nature.

“Is there a problem here?” She questions, but you immediately brush her off.

“No, no problem!” You squeak. You immediately rush over the counter and push Xiaojun out of the shop. “Seojeong, I’m taking my 15!”

“Um, okay?”

Once you’ve got Xiaojun on the street, you take notice of what he’s wearing - another dark Armani suit, same Rolex watch, and hair styled in a way that’s meant to make your panties drop. You push back your thoughts and whisper harshly to him.

“I know why you’re here.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Do you now?”

“Yes, I do,” you state confidently, tilting your chin up. “Doyeon told me about your little sugar daddy scheme.”

He laughs. “Ah, is that what they’re calling it now? Didn’t realize I was such a bad guy for wanting to help out girls in bad situations.”

You scoff. “Do you get off on this? Lowering yourself to the underprivileged lives of the poor? Pretending to be the hero that saves the damsel in distress?”

He snickers at your line of questioning, shoving his hands in his pockets and eyeing you. He leans down so that you’re face to face, and you falter as he becomes closer to you.

“And if I do? What if I like giving you money so you don’t have to work two jobs?”

“How do you know I have two jobs?” You inquire.

“You looked so lost at that gala. I told you I’ve memorized the guest list — you’ve never been on it. It became relatively easy to discover the rest of the details. It must be exhausting doing this everyday, haven’t you ever wanted a break?”

You fold your arms across your chest and take a step away from him. “What’s in it for you?”

He grins. “The pleasure of your company.”

“What kind of company?” You ask, doubting him. You won’t lie and say the offer isn’t intriguing to you. You still have pride, definitely, but the weight of two jobs has really taken a toll on you lately. Plus, Doyeon said Xiaojun breezes through girls anyways. You could get a break from paying your rent for a few months and before you know it, he’ll move onto the next charity case he wants to help out.

There’s no harm in that, right?

Your thoughts are blown through the window, however, when his smirk grows wider. You’re sure there’s a large damp spot in your underwear right now.

“Whatever company you like, little one.”

You’re fucked.

—

You keep the relationship with Xiaojun quiet and under wraps. You know Doyeon would have many thoughts about your choice, and she would probably convince you to let her pay your bills instead of Xiaojun. You couldn’t place that burden on her shoulders.

Surprisingly, Xiaojun doesn’t ask for much. He swings by the ice cream parlor once a week, drops off a $1000 check, stays to chat for a little, and leaves. Seojeong doesn’t raise any questions, albeit you’ve seen her glance at the envelope you leave in the back room. You would’ve thought that Xiaojun is the type of guy who invites you over to his penthouse apartment to get to know him, but he’s been quite reserved. He never crosses the line with you, and his questioning stays on the topic of your classes and work. You continuously wonder how to captivate his attention and if the other girls before you failed to do so.

About a month into the deal, your patience wears thin. You’re not even really sure why you’re frustrated in the first place. Anyone would love a no strings attached deal like this, getting $1000 every week with barely any commitment. You quit your other job because you don’t need both paychecks now and you’ve been able to keep up on rent. However, a part of you expected to be close with Xiaojun in some way at this point, especially considering the way he was flirting with you when he first propositioned this.

You’re fully prepared to confront him on Friday night, the same day he usually drops off the check and chats with you for a bit. You practically throw yourself over the counter when he takes a step inside the shop, yelling over your shoulder to Seojeong that you’re taking your break.

Xiaojun laughs at your eagerness, allowing you to tug on his suit as you pull him outside.

“Someone’s excited today. Need the check that badly?”

You frown at the accusation and exhale. “No, as a matter of fact, the money you’ve given me so far could probably cover me for a year.”

“Then what’s with the frowny face?”

“There’s a catch here, Xiaojun, I know there is. You’ve been too nice,” you say, waving a finger at him.

He smirks. “Have I been? I told you, little one, all I need is your company. You’ve given that to me every week, haven’t you?”

You scoff. “Barely. We talk for a few minutes while I’m making orders for other customers and then you leave. I would hardly call that company.”

He gets even cockier, if that was humanly possible. Xiaojun has to know what he’s doing to you — the mystery of his true personality starting to make you curious.

Similar to your first meeting, he leans down until he’s a few inches from your face, eyebrow raised. “Didn’t mean to neglect you, little one. Did you want more from me?”

You shift awkwardly, tension building in your stomach from his words. He was clearly teasing you and his patience was stronger than you previously believed. He waited a month just to have you desperate like this, wanting something more than a few minutes of his time. You’re so wet at this point that you’re definitive Xiaojun knows.

To prove your point, his smirk grows wider. “What are you doing after your shift?”

“U-Um, I have some homework to finish-“

“Great, I’ll pick you up after work and you can finish it at my apartment.” He doesn’t give you any time to protest, moving closer to you, his breath hitting the shell of your ear. “Next time, little one, just tell me you need more attention. Daddy will gladly give it to you.”

—

You’re a nervous wreck when Xiaojun’s expensive Rolls-Royce pulls up to the curb after your shift has ended. His car looks terribly out of place on the streets of your dirty campus, but he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. You quickly get in and ask him to go before anyone can recognize you.

The ride to his apartment in the upper part of town is filled with silence, making you even more jittery. Xiaojun, on the other hand, is calm and collected with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the console. You try to swallow your nerves and reason with yourself.

This is just Xiaojun — son of a multimillionaire, heir to many respective companies within the city. This is just Xiaojun — the man who’s been giving you $1000 every week with no strings attached, the man who’s clouded your dreams for the past month on more than one occasion.

Unfortunately, you don’t have any more time to dwell on your thoughts when Xiaojun pulls up to the parking garage of his complex. The both of you exit the car and he hands the keys to one of the valet drivers. His fingers fall to the small of your back as he guides you inside.

You try to avoid the blatant stares from other residents. You’re still dressed in your work clothes, a simple t-shirt and pair of jeans, but you couldn’t look more like a fish out of water. Xiaojun doesn’t seem to mind, walking into the elevator and pressing the top floor button. You ride the elevator in silence, and your eyes nearly fall out of your head when you reach the penthouse.

The apartment is straight out of the movies. The decor is extravagant, and you’re afraid if you touch anything, you’ll have to pay a fine. Xiaojun leads you to the dining room, pulling out a chair for you, despite your confusion.

“You can finish your homework here. I’ll be in the study upstairs.”

“Wait wait wait,” you stop him, placing a hand on his chest. “You’re leaving?”

He grins. “Did you want me to stay?”

He was really going to make you beg for it. Your eyes narrow and you feel a burst of confidence run through you. You tilt your head up until you’re a few centimeters from his mouth.

“You said Daddy would give me more attention if I asked for it.”

He growls, eyes darkening. Before you know it, he has you pinned to the grand table, staring at you as if you’re his last meal. It’s your turn to smirk as his control snaps, fingers digging into your hips roughly.

“Think it’s fun to test me? The other girls before you were more behaved,” he hisses, eyes wandering to the valley of your breasts.

“But you don’t like that, do you? You like it when they disobey,” you murmur, pulling him closer to you. “You like giving them their punishment.”

Xiaojun’s lips are pressed to yours before you can even fully register what’s going on, his body locking you against the wood. You whimper, hands gripping his forearm to keep steady. It’s messy and frantic, and you can see all of the built up tension starting to show.

“What would Doyeon think of you whoring yourself out for money?” He snickers, making you feel small under his gaze. “I bet she would be so ashamed. Little one gave up her pride for a few thousand dollars?”

You whine. “It’s not like that.”

“But isn’t it?” He questions you, fingers unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them down your legs. You wish you had worn a sexier pair of panties today but Xiaojun seems satisfied nonetheless, snapping the elastic against your skin. “Can’t wait to get a taste of this cunt. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it, little one?”

You probably look pathetic like this — half of your body sprawled across Xiaojun’s dining table, pants around your ankles, and a large wet spot ruining the fabric of your underwear. You pitifully nod in response to his question, eyes locked on the bulge straining against his expensive trousers. He chuckles when he follows your line of sight.

“Hungry?”

You fall into the role so easily. “Yes, Daddy.”

He directs you on your knees, the cold marble floor sending a shiver up your spine. You eagerly watch him unbuckle his belt and exposing his leaking cock for you. The tip is red and angry, demanding to be touched.

“Go ahead, little one. Make Daddy feel good.”

You wrap your mouth around the tip, nearly moaning at the taste of him. You haven’t been intimate with someone in so long and his cock has your mouth watering.

“Good girl,” he soothes, pushing his cock further down your throat. Tears immediately spring into your eyes when he ignores your gag reflex, hands gripping the back of your head as he guided you. “Shh, doing so well for me, little one.”

You allow him to fuck your mouth, trying to brush aside the tears falling down your face and saliva pooling at the sides of your mouth. It’s filthy and you love it — you haven’t been used like this in months and you never realized how much you missed it.

“Your mouth is so perfect, fuck,” he groans. “I’ll pay for anything you want if you stay on your knees like this, all pretty for me.”

You gasp when he lets you breathe, pulling his cock away. He chuckles at you, fingers returning to stroke himself as he watches you regain yourself. He tugs you back on your feet, overlooking your wobbly legs and pushing you into the living room. You’re about to question him on what he’s doing until he’s shoving you up against his glass window. You gaze downwards, seeing a plethora of people passing by on the street and cars honking to one another. It’s a view you only see in the movies, and you know Xiaojun’s eager to fuck you into the fantasy.

His fingers slide into your underwear, breath hot against your neck. “Look at all of them down there, little one. Bet they want to be just like you, fucked so good for everyone to see. Even better when I cum inside you, hm?”

You freeze. “D-Daddy,” you whisper frantically. “I’m not on the pill.”

He’s silent behind your figure before you feel him playing with your folds, your wetness coating his hand.

“Isn’t that nice? What do you think of getting knocked up, little one? This entire place could be yours, you would never have to step foot in that ice cream shop again. All the wealth you never imagined, you could spend all day in bed with me while I stuff you full. You would look so pretty on Daddy’s arm. I wonder how many times we could sneak away from the crowd so I could fuck my cock into you. Wouldn’t that be a dream?”

You gasp, growing wetter by the second. He easily slides a finger into your heat and all common sense is thrown out of the window.

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” you beg. “Please please please. I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

He laughs at your desperation, pushing another digit inside. “Even though you’re not on the pill? How filthy of you, little one.”

It’s sick. You barely know this man but all you want is his cum inside you. You can imagine the headlines now — Millionaire’s Son Gets Poor Girl Pregnant. But you want it. You want it so badly.

You hear the tearing of your panties but you couldn’t give a fuck what happens to them, pushing yourself further into him. He laughs again at you, tip lining up to your entrance.

“Beg for it.”

You cry. “Please, Daddy! I want it, I’ve been so good for you! I’ll let you cum inside me and everyone can watch. I want them to see who I belong to.”

“Fuck,” he growls at your submission. You nearly scream when he pushes into you, his girth bigger and thicker than you’ve ever taken before. On top of that, you haven’t had sex in months and the stretch is almost unbearable. Your head rolls back but Xiaojun grips your chin and forces you to look outside the window. “Look at all those people, little one. They’re about to get a nice show.”

He gives you no time to adjust, thrusting into you like he wants to break you. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls roughly, causing you to yelp at the pain. You’re past the point of coherent thinking, Xiaojun’s cock fucking you so good you can barely talk.

“Good, little one?”

“Mmf,” you gurgle, gasping at the force of his movements. You can feel him in your throat, and it’s as if he’s waited all these weeks just to spill his seed into you.

You tumble over the edge when he pinches your clit, whispering the dirtiest confessions into your ear. “Needy whore,” he laughed sinisterly. “Probably can’t go a day without my cock after this. Going to be begging me for it, wanting me all the time now. I can’t wait to take you everywhere and anywhere I please. I’ll buy you so many cute outfits, little one. So many skirts that make it easy for me to slide right inside and fuck you until you’re crying for me.”

You clench around his cock and fall over the edge, your wetness spilling down your thighs.

“Daddy,” you breathlessly hiss, body going limp in his arms.

“You came so much for me, little one. Your slutty cunt is so good for me, isn’t it?”

“Please, Daddy,” you plead. “Please, Daddy. I want to feel your cum.”

“Yeah?” He grunts, the sound of his balls repeatedly slapping against your pussy echoes around the room. “You wanna get pregnant? All baby wants is a big fat cock to stuff her full of cum, hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cry out, not even caring how pitiful you look at this point. “Want it so badly.”

Your desperation snaps the cord inside of him and he spills every last drop into you. You whimper at the warm feeling, some of his cum starting to drip out and coat the inside of your thighs. You both attempt to catch your breaths, your legs feeling like jelly.

You’re about to move away from him until Xiaojun keeps you pinned to the window, stopping you from leaving.

“W-What are y-you doing?” You ask, still out of breath from the fucking you just received.

“I don’t think that was the one,” he muses, eyes locked on where you two are intertwined. He offers an experimental thrust that has you scrambling.

“No, no,” you sniffle, trying to move away from him again. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“I think you can,” he chuckles, enjoying the way your cunt wraps so nicely around his cock. “And you will. Haven’t gotten you pregnant yet, little one.”

You spend hours fucking like bunnies with Xiaojun taking you on almost every surface of his apartment. You don’t even care that you’re impregnated, allowing him to use you in any way he pleases while the sun falls under the skyline.

Your pride didn’t matter that much anyways.

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Zoya Nazyalensky x fem! Reader - Once more with feeling

A/n: I was originally gonna do this to kitchen light by Xana but I found out it was really hard to write with that (amazing) song. So I decided to use once more with feeling instead (here's the link), song lyrics are italicized!

Request: Hi, I was wondering if you could do a Zoya Nazyalensky x fem! reader where the two are already more than friends behind the scenes, but around the place Zoya ignores the reader. One day the reader gets sick of pretending she’s ok with how she’s being treated and they get into a big fight. Just a lot of angst cause why not?

Y/n: Your name L/n: Last name WL/n: Wrong last name

Warnings: swearing, fighting (verbally), humiliation, homophobia, ROW spoilers I think that's it? You have been warned!

Pronouns used: none but the reader is intended to be a girl and is referenced to be one many times. Romantic pairings: (main) zoya x reader (slight) genya x reader Platonic pairings: (technically) genya x reader

Her hand hovered over yours as you both walk together through the palace gardens. It doesn't grab onto to yours, no, it does the opposite actually. Moving her hand away she glares at you and stalks off and you're left only with that feeling of dread and loneliness.

Glancing at the people who Zoya must have saw to make her pretend to act towards you so harshly, you glare at them before speeding off.

Once more, with feeling

Now was the next part of the little game you two played.

It was later in the day now and you were waiting for her in your room. The lights were dim, and night was out, giving the two of you shelter from prying eyes. If she ever showed up that is.

You hear the bedroom door open and in all her glory the Queen of Ravka comes through the door shutting it quickly and taking you in her arms.

Maybe this time, you'll mean it

Her head nuzzles into the crook of your neck and her hands slip into yours, fingers intertwining together. Her lips brush delicately over your cheek before she nuzzles her head back into your neck.

And you won't let me down

"Hard day?" You whisper your eyes shutting as she just sighs and nods her head.

"Yes." Zoya mutters and starts sucking on the base of your neck.

"Zoya I actually have to talk to you about something first." You manage to say with the pleasure and love being flared up every now and then.

End the night in walking out

She doesn't stop though, she keeps on going and eventually you wake up naked the next morning without a familiar queen beside you.

Once more, with feeling

_______

"Zoya!" Genya runs up to her friend and she hugs her, and Zoya of course embraces her back because it's Zoya and Genya they're best friends. Even if Zoya wouldn't even brush her shoulder up next to yours in public, even if she wouldn't hug you - her girlfriend like that.

All I ever did was hold you like a little kid

Zoya wasn't out, of course she wasn't! She is a Saint, she couldn't afford to be. The difference between you and her is that you were. Because of that you are the resident gay, or lesbian, you've been called some pretty terrible things from people, yet some people like Genya were good. Genya and you were beginning to have something like a friendship, but Zoya couldn't know because she'd probably freak out.

It didn't bother you, that's what you told yourself anyways. It couldn't because you wouldn't have her than.

And oh, you wanted her, some part pf you yearned to have her close to you whenever you wanted. Not just in the darkness of her bed whispers exchanged between to women who would never be accepted.

You leave me in the cold and wonder why I'm freezing

You wanted more, you wanted her so badly it hurt to think about it, but you don't know if it's worth it, not when you can't have her like you so desperately want to. Not when she doesn't even give Ravka a chance, when she doesn't even give you, a chance.

Yet one look from her and a wink that she sends your way you break, you won't leave because she's worth it. How could you ever think that this love wasn't?

Plus she's never done absolutely anything in public, maybe one wink could lead to something more? Maybe it was a desperate attempt to try and wield your reality into something else, but it was Zoya, your girlfriend, yours, it could mean anything with her.

And you knew her better than anyone else.

So you strolled up to her and placed a strictly friendly hand on her shoulder, maybe you could pretend to be friends, that would suffice for you. As long as you could have her.

And I could go months with no word from you

Her head turn towards yours and you could see her lose her breath as she locked eyes with you.

"Hey, Zoya." You say quietly, slightly mumbling but you know Zoya and Genya (who was in the vicitnity) could hear.

She gulps and looks down not even glancing back at you before she grits out;

"It's Queen, Nazyalensky to you."

You let your hand drop and you could feel the tears fill your eyes, people were giggling all around you and you were properly humiliated.

You just couldn't believe she would do this, if she wasn't ready could've she just shrugged you off and said- oh, you had no idea. Perhaps, that you guys weren't there yet? She didn't have to humiliate you!

Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears that it was the only thing you could hear, you felt your face heat up and your nails dug into the palms of your hand.

"I-I thought-" You stuttered before she snarled at you, cutting off your attempt to try and reason with her.

But you get mad if I don't come through

"Listen to me WL/n," Zoya starts.

"It's L/n," You murmur keeping your head down knowing that if you were to look up at her your hold on your emotions would shatter.

"Okay then L/n, stop following me around like a dog! I'm not your friend, much less anything else! So stop trying to act like we've ever had something! I'm not an abomination, unlike you!"

You missed another birthday

Your lip is trembling as you try to hold down the tears, the voices of everyone's hysterical laughter fills your ears, your chest feels heavy like a ton of bricks were just launched onto it. Yet you can barely see anything other than Zoya, and because of that you don't see Genya's shocked and terrified face.

Zoya- Zoya must have been pretending, she had to be! Feeling something warm on the palms of your hands you look down at them and you see tiny crescent moons engraved into your hands as blood starts to slowly cover them.

Another wish wasted on my candles

Looking back up to finally meet her eyes you realize this isn't your Zoya, as her cold icy jewels glower down at you, as it killed you every second to keep looking at them when all you could see was your lover.

"But, what about all the times we spent together?" Your sentence although it's wobbly accuses her of something you both had promised to keep under wraps. Yet no one would believe you, because you were just some lonely girl trying to get the attention of a Saint. You were some dust over her crown for them.

I know what they're gonna say

"You are nothing to me."

Those are the words that break you, they stab a knife through your chest as they twist it smiling draconically down at you. You couldn't help the tears that escaped their prison.

You ran, you ran far away from her, you couldn't bare to look at the Queen of Ravka anymore because she's everything to you but you've come to discover that you're nothing to her.

You would have shown up if you gave a damn

_______

You don't come back to her room that night.

Or the night after that.

You couldn't face her, not after what she did. You could barely face the world around you, you didn't come out of your room. Genya, sweet Genya, was the one who gave you food. You must have looked like a mess.

But you didn't know, because you had covered the mirrors as soon as you had gotten back. You didn't want them to show that you weren't good enough for Zoya, you didn't want to them to unravel your broken mask to reveal the true damage she had done underneath.

But I keep hoping, keep praying to God

You didn't want to see Zoya, you weren't ready too, yet she had come uninvited anyways.

Your door opened and shut quickly, then some lips were upon yours and you immediately recognized them as the queen's.

Some part of you wanted to spring back up and just kiss her, and that part although it had won the battle however it didn't win the war. Kiss her you did, you kissed her like she was your last breath, you kissed her like you were going to die, like this was the last time.

Maybe you'll wake up and know what you want

She matched that, you could feel Zoya's emotions through the kiss, unsaid words that even in the darkness she would never voice.

You needed more than that, it wasn't just a want anymore.

Tears slipped out of your eyes like beautiful crystals reflecting off of the little light in the room reminding you that this wasn't any different than anytime before. You were still in the darkness, at night in a bedroom; it just wasn't her's and she had come to you this time. Nothing had changed.

And if I'm good, if I'm lucky enough

As you pulled away she frowned at you and cradled your face.

"What's wrong little one?"

The words ring in your head and you rip your face from her hands.

"What's wrong? WHAT'S WRONG!" You yell the tears falling harder as the avalanche finally suffocates you. Everything just became too much.

"You humiliated me in front of everyone Zoya! You called me an- an abomination! You acted like I was some worthless trash you could just throw away!"

She scowled at you, you had never truly opposed to keeping everything behind closed doors, so this to Zoya was surprising. But in her mind she had dealt with much worse.

"Well maybe you shouldn't have been so rash! With what you were doing anyone was going to guess!"

You scoffed at her, "Really is that what you think?" You pause to see if she would say anything else, or even the slightest change of expression. Nothing, there was nothing, she just looked at you expectantly.

You'll love me again

"You could have pretended that we were friends Zoya! Wait, you preferred Queen Nazyalensky when I was talking to you right? Okay then Queen Nazyalensky, just because I'm out and you're not does not mean it makes you automatically 'gay' if we're friends. If you truly think that then you're a fool."

She's looking at you open mouth at your words, but she quickly retaliates. You've always liked that about her.

"You know I didn't mean anything I said right?"

We'll do it once more with feeling

Turning around so you weren't facing her you snap at her; "No I don't."

Zoya chuckles a bit. "If that's all this is about-"

"You didn't even apologize, and I've been trying to talk to for ages about maybe just maybe trying to go public. Or even just tell your fucking friends! And you haven't noticed! Because if we don't one day you'll marry some prince and I'll be the sad lesbian mistress and that's a future I don't and will never see Zoya."

Your last chance, no take-backs

"Are you breaking up with me?" Zoya barely even manages to get the words out before tears fill the girl's eyes.

You glance back at her waiting a moment to see if she would say anything else, anything to fix this. But she doesn't utter another word.

'Cause if you don't choose me now

"I was nothing to you anyways."

It's silent for a moment, the only thing being her sniffles and your shaking hands when you below; "GET OUT!"

I'll end the night in walking out

After she leaves you break down in tears, and a certain one eyed girl is there to cradle you in her arms. You don't have the strongest relationship with Genya but you decided tell her anyways about your past relationship with Zoya.

Your sobs racked your body as she holds you and whispers a thousand sorries although it isn't through the lips you want to hear them out of.

But if it makes it feel a bit better Zoya didn't need to know that.

Once more, with feeling

Words 2039

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Grishaverse taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover @brekker-zenik @alohastitch0626 @brekkers-desigirl @emmsamultifan06

[clumsyclifford]

what about a friendship fic with the prompt "i don't know if i can do this" with whatever pairing you want? 🦥

hello sloth anon !! pairing bot said cashton for this okay it said cake first but i had already done cake so here you are!! some endearing cashton friendship

read here on ao3

-

Frankly, hosting an open mic in the Student Theatre is a little presumptuous, if Calum’s honest. He’s never seen more than twenty people attend an open mic. Surely they don’t need this many seats. The mics and stage are nice, but definitely overkill.

Also, Calum is pretty sure they’re making Ashton nervous.

“This was a terrible idea. How did I let you talk me into this? I’m supposed to play in front of all these people? With a microphone?”

Okay, they’re definitely making Ashton nervous.

“It’s the same number of people as always,” Calum lies. Looking around, it’s definitely more. People are in clusters of three or four, scattered around the seats; Calum counts twenty without even trying.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Ashton says, like he hasn’t heard Calum. “Let’s sit in the back, come on.”

“No, don’t be stupid,” Calum says, grabbing Ashton’s arm and pulling them further down the aisle. “You wanna do that walk of shame to get up to the stage?”

“I don’t want to do it at all! I’m not playing.”

“Shut up,” Calum says. “You’re playing. You’re already signed up, and you’re gonna do great.”

“I’ll get shaky hands and I’ll fuck up every chord,” Ashton insists. “It’ll be a humiliating disaster and I’ll never be able to show my face in public again.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You don’t even care.”

“That’s right,” Calum says, sliding into the fourth row. Ashton groans and takes the seat beside him. “I don’t.”

“Some friend you are,” Ashton grumbles.

Calum sighs and turns towards him. “Ashton Irwin. You’re gonna kick ass. And even if you make a couple mistakes, it won’t matter, because there’s no fuckin’ way you’re gonna be the worst performer at a college open mic.”

Ashton cracks a wry smile. “You should get a job in the pep talk business.”

“I know, I’m very good at them.”

“Yeah, masterful.” Ashton slouches down in his seat. “Maybe if they don’t see me here they won’t call my name.”

Calum shakes his head and laughs. “You’re not getting out of this.”

“Don’t you dare sell me out.”

“Who, me?” Calum pulls an innocent face. It only serves to deepen Ashton’s frown.

“You suck.”

“Alright.”

Friendly conversations mingle into a considerable buzz around them. Calum pulls out his phone to text Michael.

calum: we’re in the front when you get here

michael: literally walking in the door

Calum turns around, and Michael waves as he enters. Behind him, Luke waves too. “Hey, Luke’s here!” Calum tells Ashton, who seems to be attempting to merge with the floor.

Ashton sighs dramatically. “Great. More people to watch me fail.”

Calum rolls his eyes as Michael and Luke approach. “Hi,” he says. “Hey, Luke! I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I dragged him,” Michael shares. Luke shrugs like he doesn’t care. Glancing down at Ashton, Michael adds, “What’s with him?”

“He’s convinced he’s going to do terribly and publicly humiliate himself,” Calum says, rolling his eyes again for good measure.

“No, you’ll be great,” Michael says brightly. “Calum’s always saying how you’re the most talented person in his music whatever class.”

“Calum’s stupid and wrong,” floats Ashton’s voice from somewhere underneath the seat.

Michael and Luke take the two seats behind them. “Well, that’s true about most things,” Michael agrees. “But he has pretty good taste in music.”

“You’ll be fine,” Luke says good-naturedly. It’s nice of him to chime in when he doesn’t really know Ashton. Calum appreciates the support.

Ashton huffs and scrambles half-upright. Before he has the chance to counter, someone is talking into the microphone.

“Hi everyone,” says the speaker, cheerfully. “Hello! Thank you all so much for coming! I reckon this is the most people we’ve ever had at an open mic, so thank you all for the support, it means the world to us, really. My name is Louis, I’m president of the Concerts Club on campus. We put on an open mic every month and this is the first one of the semester, so again, thanks everyone for coming out, and especially thanks to everyone who signed up to perform! You’re all brilliant. We love you.”

“We love you,” a guy in the front row pipes up. “I personally love you. Every one of you.”

“Niall loves you,” Louis says solemnly into the mic. A quiet laugh arises from the audience. Calum chuckles. Ashton does not. “So before we start, just to let everyone know if you’re interested in joining the Concerts Club or hearing about the events we put on, there’s a sign-up sheet at the back of the room where you can put your email, and then you’ll get all our beautiful advertisements designed by our lovely Hazza straight to your inbox. That’s all! Right, so without further ado, let’s get started! First up?”

He looks to Niall, who apparently has the information, and a moment later announces: “Zayn, our very own treasurer! We love Zayn, let’s hear it for Zayn.”

Earsplitting applause. Clearly everyone loves Zayn. Calum doesn’t know who Zayn is, but apparently he’s a fan favorite.

Ashton groans. “I’m going to be sick,” he mutters.

Calum hits his shoulder gently. “Sit up, you twat.”

Grumbling, Ashton obliges.

Once Zayn starts singing — a cover of an old R&B song Calum doesn’t recognize — Ashton’s attitude seems to improve. This only really means that his self-deprecating comments sound more joking than grave, but it’s something.

“Damn,” Michael says as Zayn finishes. They all clap. “I feel like when you enter heaven, that’s what you hear.”

“As if you’re going to heaven,” Calum replies.

Michael grins.

After Zayn is another person Calum doesn’t know — a junior named Shawn who plays an original song on an acoustic guitar and deals serious damage to Ashton’s confidence. Then it’s someone called Tay, then some kid called Mitchy who’s completely awful, and then a kid who gets introduced as full name Brian Logan Dales and swaggers onstage like he owns the place. Finally, just as Calum is wondering when they’ll get to him:

“Ashton Irwin!” Louis announces, and Calum would be lying if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat.

Ashton screws up his face into a grimace. For a second Calum really wonders if he's going to back out. After an excruciating moment, Ashton stands up, takes his guitar, and heads for the stage. He shoots Calum a nervous look; Calum smiles reassuringly and nods.

“Uh, hi everyone,” Ashton says into the mic. “I’m Ashton.”

“WHOO!” Calum whoops. “YEAH YOU ARE!”

A real smile breaks Ashton’s drawn face. “Yeah, I am,” he agrees wryly. “And I…have never done an open mic before and I’ve also never played this song in front of people before, so…don’t…judge me. Please.”

“THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND!”

Michael snorts a laugh. Ashton clears his throat and ignores Calum. “Yeah, and it’s called ‘Drive’. Oh, and I wrote it. It’s— yeah. So…okay. Here goes.”

“GET IT!” Calum catcalls. Michael fully breaks down laughing, and even Ashton breathes a chuckle. Luke looks like he’s trying to turn into a foldout chair.

Out of respect, Calum only cheers between verses, when Ashton isn’t singing and is instead making shy smiles and flitting his gaze around the room too quickly to actually make eye contact with anyone. During the second chorus, though, when he jumps up the octave, everyone cheers. One of those communal yeah!s that murmurs through a room. A hive mind appreciation for an epic musical moment.

Calum beams with pride. When he turns to grin at Michael and Luke, he sees them grinning right back. Michael is taking a video.

As the final chord rings, Ashton says, “Thank you so much." On cue, the room bursts into applause. Maybe Calum is biased, but he’s pretty sure it’s real, enthusiastic applause, not just people clapping to be polite. Several people hoot and holler. Calum is one of them.

“I LOVE YOU, ASHTON!” he calls. “WILL YOU AUTOGRAPH MY FACE?”

Michael’s laughing up a storm. “MARRY ME, ASHTON!” he shouts, in the spirit of things. Calum cackles and gives him a high-five over the shoulder.

Ashton is blushing but smiling as he treks back to his seat. “You are a fucking menace,” he says as he sits back down. “Jesus fucking Christ. I cannot take you anywhere. You’re an embarrassment to society.”

“Aw, you love it!” Calum says sweetly. He elbows Ashton. “Did I call it or what? You fucking killed! You sounded so good!”

“It could have been worse,” Ashton concedes.

“It couldn’t have been better,” Michael puts in. “That rocked.”

“You wrote that?” Luke says, acknowledging the rest of them for the first time since Calum started heckling Ashton. “‘Cause that was fucking sick, man.”

“Oh, well. Thank you.”

“See? What did I tell you. No need to worry.”

Ashton holds out his hands, fingers spread, for Calum to see. There’s a slight tremor in them. “Told you my hands would be shaky.”

“But you didn’t fuck up any of the chords, so who cares?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Calum slaps Ashton’s knee. “Will you just admit that you kicked ass?”

“Fine, I kicked ass,” Ashton says, smiling.

“YEAH you did!”

“Oh my God, be quieter, this is not a fucking baseball game,” Ashton says, covering Calum’s mouth with his hand. “And if you lick me right now so help me God I will punch you.”

Calum blinks owlishly.

“Thank you,” Ashton says, and pulls his hand away. “Now behave.”

“Fine,” Calum huffs. The next performer — an Ashley Calum’s never heard of but has seen around campus before — starts to sing something. Whispering so as not to be rude, Calum adds, “I’m proud of you, though.”

“Thank you,” Ashton says with a small smile. He elbows Calum. “But seriously, shut up.”

“Alright, alright.”

He does shut up, because he’s only disruptive when it’s Ashton on the stage. A moment later his phone buzzes.

michael: [video]

michael: your catcalling is probs in this but i thought you would want it

Calum bites his lip and smiles as he saves the video.