#long suffering sigh /pos

[networksupported]

"Cas." Bradley says and his voice gets a twinge of annoyance. "Cas I am in so much pain and I just- I just want to curl up somewhere dark and quiet."

He gets up shakily, his whole body shivering with the effort. There are tears running down his face, even with his change of tone his eyes are still frantic, they're screaming at him. Was he also scared of death? Did it hurt more than he lets on? But then his gaze turns away.

"I- I'm sorry." He says again quietly. "I can't be around you anymore. I just want some quiet. If- if I restart, I'll be back. If not….I guess it was nice knowing you? Was it? I don't know, it's not like we got along much."

> we didn't?

[cas murmurs, voice soft.]

[OF COURSE YOU DIDN'T GET ALONG, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.

the maybe-vir part of his thoughts retort.

HE'S DYING AND YOU'RE WORRIED ABOUT HIS OPINION OF YOU? HOW CAN YOU BE THAT SELFISH? NO WONDER WHY HE HATES YOU.]

[cas has to admit it has a point.]

[to tell the truth, he hadn't even really meant to say that. it just seemed every part of his body was working completely out of sync with all the others- his mouth was reacting far more differently than his head wanted, his mind was still caught up in the intensity of bradley's gaze, and the rest of him seemed to have taken an executive decision and just frozen on him entirely.]

[OH, YEAH? WELL, IMAGINE HOW HE FEELS.]

[unfortunately, this was also an amazing point.]

> no, i-- i didn't mean that. i understand.

> but the reset'll- work, right? it'll be okay? should i check with a narrator or something? thurs might know, mightn't she?

#:CONTINUE: #// #long suffering sigh /pos #in the most terrified sense

[phoebelovingcare]

so we've run out of my usual toothpaste in the house which means ive been using mint toothpaste for the past few days - much to my chagrin as the mint is so strong it burns - and you'll never guess what thought just resurfaced after i washed my mouth out with cold water

#pheb speaks #deep long suffering sigh /pos

[chosok-amo]

ASLEEP AMONG THE STARS, CHAPTER 01 — SATORU'S DESTINY AS A BAD COOK

Satoru takes care of you while your brother is in class and nobody's around and tries to cook for you only it turns out to be miserable and has suguru to fix his food.

fluff, gojo x reader

“It's a long story,” you tell him.

The white-haired boy rolled his eyes annoyed before he let out a sigh of frustration. “You conned me into thinking you were dead for eleven months, I have time,” he tells you— having no wanting to back down his curiosity. This time it's your turn to roll your eyes in annoyance. You turn your head to your right side, looking at your brother's best friend.

Right now you're laying on your bed, your arm spread out on your bed with your feet dangling at the end of your bed while Gojo Satoru— your brother's best friend lay on his stomach on your right side with both of his elbows to sustain his weight, both of his palm rest under his chin. His long ass legs bent up— making himself look like that Lolita girl.

“But I don't, I'm hungry,” you said to him.

Your parents were out of town while your brother had classes, leaving you with Gojo Satoru to take care of you— more like you take care of him. Satoru always invited himself into your house. “It's my second home,” he said to you once. Since he and your brother were best friends for as long as you can remember, maybe since they're both kids. That made you also grow up with him. He is everywhere— your family vacation, your Christmas, your Thanksgiving, your birthday, every single time. Your parents even give him a gift every Christmas, every year.

Satoru clucked in annoyance as he rolled his body to get up. His slander body stands straight beside your bed as he looks down to stare at you and stuffed his hands into his pants. “Come on, I'll cook you the best meal you've ever had, better than Suguru. And after that you have to tell me everything,” he humors you.

You laugh, “You? better cooker than Suguru? You should stop saying bullshit, Satoru.” He gasped dramatically hearing your mockery— looking as offended as someone saying mean things about his height. His large hand squeezed the fabric of his shirt where his heart was located. “Take that back y/n, I'm telling you,” he grumbles. His ocean-blue eyes narrow as he stares at you. “I haven't shown you my talent yet, I'm good at everything I do,” he tells you, suddenly looking so proud like he just won a medal for being a freak as he is.

“I'm not gonna let you burn my kitchen, Satoru, at least not when I'm hungry as fuck,” you rolled your eyes to him. “Come on, I'll cook something for you. Your brother is gonna punch me in the face if he knows I let you eat fast food, so I have to cook for you,” He pulled your hand softly making you get up from your bed. With that, both of you get out of your bedroom and go downstairs to the kitchen.

“Be a good girl and sit there and let Chef Gojo show you his cooking skills,” he smirked at you, which only made you giggle and sit at the bar, across from him. Satoru wears an apron with a hello kitty printed. His white hair sticking out of his head, and today he doesn't wear the round sunglasses he usually wears. He is wearing a sky blue sweater with a plain white t-shirt and a short with the same colour as his sweater— looking all boyfriendable and fluffy and cute together.

You stare at him as he cuts the carrot into an uneven shape, some too big, some too small. His hands look awkward and rigid— showing that he's never cooked in his life. He threw you a glance from time to time, looking all nervous and frustrated. But you choose to stay silent, secretly enjoying his suffering. You don't know this, but Satoru is trying so hard to impress you.

He knows how much you love homemade food and he's been trying to learn how to cook from Suguru, learn what food you like the most and what food you despise the most. One month of learning how to cook and he's nowhere near good. It's even magical if his food doesn't come out as poison and too sweet with how much of a sweet tooth he has. It's not on purpose, he just thinks it's not sweet enough to be delicious.

“Eat one food you made and you can make someone's family tree have diabetes,” Suguru once told him when he taught him how to cook.

“That's not how you do—”

“Shh, princess! I know what I do, you need to trust the process,” Satoru cut you off before you finished your sentence. He gives you a sweet smile to assure you that he knows what he is doing. You look at him as you raise your one eyebrow and sit back. You're not sure what Satoru is going to make but you try to give him the benefit of the doubt and just watch him do his thing.

But Satoru himself doesn't trust the process, he has no fucking idea what he was doing. He doesn't know what to do next, he has no idea what seasoning he should use and how much. All the things Suguru taught him went down the drain and suddenly he felt like the stupidest person in the world. Oh just how much he wishes for Suguru to come home and save him from any embarrassment in front of you— the girl he's having a crush on.

For a while Satoru struggled to maintain his acting, to pretend he knew what he was doing until the front door opened and Suguru came to the kitchen. A sigh of relief he hoped you didn't notice left his mouth, but you do but you choose not to say anything and just smile to yourself. “I smell something burning, what is it?” Suguru asked as he came to the kitchen and stood beside you. He kisses your head and asks, “How do you feel?” softly.

“I'm perfectly fine and starving, but Satoru takes good care of me,” you said, which is a lie but again Suguru knows better. He just smiles knowingly while shooting his best friend a look and raises his eyebrows. “He did?” He asked unbelievable which made Satoru roll his eyes. Suguru takes steps closer to his best friend only to find himself dumbfounded when he takes a look at what Satoru cooks.

He looks at the white-haired boy, facepalm while the other one just smiles sheepishly and scratches his nape. Suguru let out a sigh and eyed his sister, “Can you wait for a moment, sis? Something needs to be fixed,” he tells you in his sweet honey voice. “Sure,” you assure him. He gives you a bowl of blueberries for you to eat while waiting for him. “Go sit next to her,” Suguru pushed his best friend to get out and sit next to you. The boy can only grumble and grumpily sit himself next to you.

“You see? that's my destiny as a bad cook,” he tells you, pouting his lips. You giggle and feed him a blueberry. His eyes light up in an instant and asks you to feed him some more, this time with Nutella. “Stop being such a baby,” Suguru mocked. “Oh fuck you, I'm doing just fine until you come and pretend to be a hero to save the day,” Satoru contended.

“Yeah? Do you do just fine? You can't even cut the carrot properly, Satoru. Look at this one, it's the size of my fist, what do you think we are? A gorilla?” Suguru remarked that only you respond with laughter as he shows Satoru a carrot that is indeed the size of his fist. Satoru mimicked Suguru's words while rolling his eyes. “Well sorry, I'm not Gordon Ramsay—”

“Indeed, you are a wild animal,” Suguru teased him.

You snorted after hearing what your brother said and held your hands to your mouth, preventing you from laughing. Satoru snapped his neck to look at you and groaned in annoyance. “Don't mind him, it's good that you're trying to cook for me, I appreciate it, I'll teach you next time,” you assured him and rubbed his hand softly and smiled at him warmly.

After the three of you had your dinner, Suguru went to his room to take a shower while you and Satoru washed the dishes. He stood beside you as he scrubbed the plate while you dried it after he finished. You notice Satoru peering at you from time to time. You look to your left— to look at him for a second and smile. “What is it?” you asked him.

He shook his head and gave you his cheeky smile, “Nothing,” he tells you. “It's not nothing if you can't stop throwing me a glance with those eyes of yours,” you tell him, still smiling. “I just miss you, haven't seen you in a year,” he told you. This time his attention is fully focused on you and his hands stop moving. His blue eyes looked at you deeply. “You did?” You ask him, a little bit surprised with his outburst.

“So much, I feel like I can't breathe, miss you so much it's physically hurt me not being able to see you,” he tells you, nearly whispered. His eyes look into your eyes with something you never know, something you feel unfamiliar with. Both of you are lost in each other's eyes. You can't seem to get a word out of your mouth, feel too starstruck you can feel your heart beating faster than normal.

And suddenly water splashes on your face. A gasp leaves your lips as you feel wet on your face and your clothes. Satoru laughs at you as he holds his stomach, pointing his finger at you. “You son of a—” You do the same to Satoru without he anticipated it. The water made his hair and face wet. And with that, both of you declared a war on who's gonna get wet the most.

“Y/n?” Suguru calls you which puts a stop to your war. He looked at you with protectiveness. “It's getting late—” he trails off as he steps closer to you. “You can get sick, you should be careful, y/n.” He put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer. “Come on, you should rest so you don't get tired tomorrow,” he said to you softly. His hands go up and down to your arms, trying to keep your slightly cold body warm. You look over your shoulder to Satoru. He smiles at you and waves his hand at you. You return the smile and let Suguru guide you to your room.

masterlist

chapter 01 — Satoru's destiny as a bad cook

⠀⠀

⠀⠀

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #satoru gojo smut #nanami smut #toji smut #geto smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo fanfic #geto x reader

[mister-e-muss]

Parenting: A TiPo microfic

(No I have not seen Kung Fu Panda 4 yet)

You know, looking back on it, maybe letting Lei Lei invite friends over to the Jade Palace was a mistake. Not that Po would ever say so out loud, mind you. But a veritable litter of kids rallying around one very capable, very mischievous leader was always a recipe for disaster.

The birthday celebration hadn’t been this out of hand at the start. There were no less than seven Kung Fu Masters just in their immediate surroundings, how hard could watching the neighborhood kids be?

As it turns out, very hard. As soon as the celebratory noodles had been eaten, they all scampered, scarpered, and scuttled away in every direction. Crane had to be dispatched to provide an aerial view, Mantis was busy checking small spaces, and Monkey was furiously taping down every breakable item the Hall of Warriors had. (The Urn of Whispering Warriors was the sole exception; it had already been broken before the party started.)

Where Tigress and Viper were, Po couldn’t say. Neither did he know where Master Shifu was, but he was sure they were doing their best.

———————————————

“Inner peace,” Shifu breathed to himself, trying desperately to ignore the sole pig child gnawing on his shoe.

———————————————

Really, Po reflected as he turned the corner, his real mistake had been teaching Lei Lei how to do Kung Fu. A smart kid was dangerous. A dangerous kid who’d been taught to be dangerous was dangerous-er. But most danger-est of all was a kid who was smart, strong, and adorable.

A fact reflected by the sight before him.

Lei Lei waved at him innocently from across the hallway. “Daddy!” She called.

Po felt a moment of relief. Whatever chaos was ensuing the rest of the Jade Palace, at least his daughter was safe. “There you are. Ah, I was starting to get worried. Didn’t hear a thing.”

Lei Lei smiled with satisfaction. Po’s heart was warmed for a moment, before he noted the shadows slowly opening the doors on the hallway.

“What’s going on?” Po asked, not very sure if he wanted to know the answer. At the very least, he knew now where the kids went.

Lei Lei still smiled, but it was the smile of victory. “Destwoy him my awmy!”

————————————————

Viper savored the smooth warm comfort of her tea. “You think it’s all right letting the guys watch the kids?”

Tigress waited to answer, finishing her own cup. “If Po is good at only three things, it’s cooking, Kung fu, and kids. I’m sure he has-“

They were cut off as a familiar cry of distress rang across the Jade Palace. Tigress heaved a deep, long suffering sigh before finishing her thought. “-. . . Absolutely nothing in hand.”

Viper have a sympathetic smile. “Want me to check on them?”

Tigress stood. “It’s fine. I’ll save him.”

————————————————

A few minutes later, Tigress found Po. Or more accurately, she found the mass of hyperactive children currently smothering him.

“Am I interrupting anything?” She asked rhetorically.

“Tigrehf?” A muffled voice called from beneath the squirming playful mass. “I don’f mean to scare you, but I fhink our daufter is drying to take ofer the world. And I don’f know if I can ftop her.”

Tigress smirked. “I guess then I’ll just have to catch her!” Her announcement came with exaggerated menace and showy growls near the end. The mass of fur and feathers fled in delighted terror.

Tigress spared a moment to look at the Dragon Warrior in all his overwhelmed, completely unprepared glory. “Want to tag out for a bit?”

Po waved away the suggestion, still panting for breath. “Nah, nah, it’s fine. I’ll be chasing them in a second.”

Tigress huffed in amusement. “I’ll be herding them for a bit. You join me when you’ve caught your breath.”

Po’s head collapsed “I love you so much.”

Tigress smirked as she squatted down to look Po in the eye. “Oh don’t say that just yet. You’ll be making it up to me later. After she’s gone to bed.”

“Eh,” Po said in lieu of a question.

“I’ve been thinking,” Tigress continued. “It could be nice to give Lei Lei a little sister. Don’t you think?”

Po’s face turned red. “Eh-Heh. Like we don’t have enough to do, right?”

Tigress theatrically pulled herself up to full height. “Of course, if you don’t feel like you can handle another. . .” She started to walk after Lei Lei and company.

Po pulled himself to his elbow’s “No no, I can totally handle it. It’ll be fun!”

Tigress smiled as she started to run. “Then come on; we can’t let our daughter take over the world just yet!”

Po was laughing in full as he sprinted after her.

#kung fu panda #tipo #tigress #po #microfic #fanfic #fanfiction

[ahqkas]

𝐨𝐨𝐨. HER FAVOURITE REASON ; jill valentine

pairing! jill valentine x gn!reader

synopsis! jill's nights were often spent without any sleep. she had many reasons, most of them involving her work and past events of her life. but yet one of them were you. her favourite reason

warnings! SMUT !! (its lowkey embarrassing to post 😞🙏), anyway its not a full thing theres just fingering, oral (f recieving), a bit of praising, its not much detailed && fluff

word count! 1.3k

note! dni if a minor writing/posting smut makes you uncomfortable please !! dedicated to the biggest jill fan ik enjoy ur filth mari 🤗🤗

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

Jill's nights were often sleepless. Reasons changed, of course, but the main ones usually were: 1, she couldn't convince her loud mind to fall into a dreamless sleep, meaning she spend the night sitting on a chair behind a kitchen table, her head resting uncomfortably in her hands as the events of July, 24th 1998 caught up to her, leaving her there to deal with the memories of the past. 2, she was sitting on her couch (which was pressed up against a wall, meaning every time she huffed in frustration and slammed her head backwards, she would hit the wall at the full force with a groan leaving her lips) and working on a case while her face expression told you just how she could pay attention to things she did.

And the third one reason was you.

Jill would totally lie if she said the only reason she was partly happy to return to her apartment wasn't because she knew you would be there waiting for her. The thought just kept her more excited and with every passing minute she couldn't take her eyes of the clock above her head, the annoying sound of ticking being more irritating than usual. And when the clock finally read 10pm, Jill Valentine stormed off with nothing but you on her mind and how the rest of the unexciting night would be spent.

Entering the smaller apartment and hanging her jacket next to the wooden door, she could smell the fresh beans of black coffee in the air of her home. The woman let a small smile lit up her face because the very familiar scent just reminded her more of you. Before you entered her life, Jill didn't like the smell of coffee. Hell, she still doesn't like it and would prefer to leave the windows open so the air could change while if she was gone. But you loved your coffee and if it made you happy, so be it. She can suffer the strong aroma for you.

Why you drank coffee just before you go to bed would be an unsolved mystery for her.

"[Name]? I'm back from work."

Not hearing your response right after her question brought some suspicion and worry into Jill's mind but after she heard some shuffling coming from your shared bedroom, she let out a sigh of relief. "I'm in the bedroom!"

That was enough of an answer to send Jill running into the room full of emotions and desires that belonged just to you.

You sat there on the bed with your shirt and loosely shorts hugging your body, your back pressed against the headboard as you looked up at Jill with your eyes wide open and a grin on your pretty lips. God, you really were a sight for sore eyes right now when you were here, in her bed looking confortable as ever. It warmed Jill's heart though that you choose to be there with her and not care about anything else.

"Hi."

"Hey."

You went to stand in front of your girlfriend whose capturing eyes never left your frame. Jill's arms found their way to rest on your hips as her lips slowly but with passion set down on your own, pressing hard enough to show you the eagerness and longing she preserved for you. But you wanted this night to be about her as she often couldn't fall asleep, maybe this would get her mind to relax and live a little of a normal life. Pressing your right knee between her legs, you swiftly spun the pair of you around and pushed Jill gently onto the bed, dropping into a position when you were left strangling her thighs with your palms next her stomach.

With a raise of her eyebrows, Jill couldn't help but let out a soft laugh as she tried to process the situation. She would lie if she said laying under you while you had the upper hand didn't get her excited. "Stealing my moves now, are you?"

"Someone has to reward you for your hard work, Valentine."

The 'removing clothes' part was really rushed as both of you wanted to get to the best part as quickly as it was possible but Jill still found some time to take and admire your features under the cheap lighting. You were almost as focused as she would get while reading reports from Raccoon City Police Department or when she would make an instant cup of Mac and Cheese and still mess it up somehow (she just wasn't the type for cooking, however there were things she was really good at).

"Why are you looking at me like that?" your question caught her a bit of guard but when the colder air hit now her exposed skin of her body she returned back to the reality.

"Why not?"

Pressing your warms lips against her in a sweet kiss, your fingers started to explore the already familiar route on her skin and you could feel the shiver that was running through her on your fingertips. She was so pretty under you, doing exactly as you told and shivering just from your touch alone. With a quick peck, you pulled away, glancing at her expression. Her eyebrows were scrunched in what seemed like concrentrion and her glossy lips were breathing out silent gasps of air.

"Already at loss of your words, Jill?"

You changed your playful teasing into a serious action when your fingers pressed against her clit, making the woman under you let out a surprising gasp at the not so soon expected touch. You liked your teasing when it came to her. Stretching her open, your thumb continued making a circling motion the way it was used to and you could tell from the face Jill was making that she in fact was at loss of words from the sudden pleasure filling her insides.

"Just like that, [Nickname], you're so good at this, go on."

Your heart jumped at her praise, it was good to hear some encouraging words coming from a woman who did so much good in her life and yet she was here, using her words to please you. Your fingers moved faster, making like scissors actions inside her you know she enjoys without any doubts. And as her wrist took yours into a soft hold, you predicted your moves right.

Jill Valentine came undone on your fingers, filling the air around you with her sweet noises of pleasure.

Her closed eyes opened to gaze tiredly into yours and from her look alone you could read the gratefulness in them. She grabbed you by the same wrist you've done things she adored and wiped her cum from them with touch of care. "Come on, let's sleep."

"Okay."

And as you hugged her tight towards you, you couldn't stop thinking about how lucky you've become. You had an amazing girlfriend that saves the fucking world and in the morning you would be greeted with the sight of her messy hair everywhere on her pretty face and her forehead tucked into your shoulder, knowing she slept like that because she was comfortable with you.

Not even her dusty apartment could make you leave her behind.

#dahlia.nsfw #jill valentine x reader #jill valentine x fem!reader #jill valentine x gn!reader #jill valentine smut #jill valentine blurb #jill valentine fic #jill valentine one shot #jill valentine fluff #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #resident evil smut #resident evil jill #resident evil fluff

[sashimiyas]

cw: degradation; you call toji useless and a pos; it’s a toxic relationship

i know deadbeat fwb toji has been done so many times but there’s an image i have of you returning to your apartment after a long day at work and finding him on the couch.

you left him in your bed as you got ready for work, but not without a stern reminder to take out the trash he brought in and him with it. yet you come home to wrappers decorating your coffee table and crushed cans on the floor.

you’re not surprised but you’re definitely, definitely disappointed. with a sigh, you walk your way to him.

he’s a miserably attractive sight. drool on one side of his mouth, the remains of a mystery sauce on the other. mountains for pecs, washboard in place of abs, and rags for clothes, it’s like being served a five star meal on a paper plate. not that you’d ever give toji the satisfaction of being called that.

to curb your annoyance, you drop your bag to the floor just to see him suffer. toji’s breath hitches in his throat as his body bounces up at the noise.

“you’re so useless, aren’t you?” your greeting is biting but it’s brushed off with an enthused smile.

“welcome home,” he says more as a taunt than anything else, “missed ya.”

toji slides his head towards the edge of the couch as he grips the back of your thighs, nose dancing between the seam your pressed legs create.

you watch him apathetically despite the desire that builds. he’s unaffected, simply kneading at the meat where your thigh and ass connects. and toji’s always been the type of guy to get the job done in his own fucked up way. eager to get in between your legs, he presses his face deeper, shaking his head left and right to loosen you up. you hardly put up a fight yet toji allows you to maintain appearances.

he smiles lecherously when his mouth kisses your crotch and you can’t help but reach down to pull at his hair and put him in his place.

“this is all you’re good for, isn’t it?” you pull him closer with the aim to suffocate him between your thighs, “go on then, you useless piece of shit. do what you’re good at.”

toji does often leave you disappointed, but never when it comes to things like this.

#reinas.inretrograde #reinas.rioting #this is what i think when people say ‘yeah but sex was bomb tho.’

[rockingrobin69]

Blossomed

“Thought I’d find you here.”

He opened one eye slowly, blinking at the bright light. “Oh no. My secret hiding spot is ruined.”

Laughter rang through the orchard as a heavy figure landed next to him. Draco wasn’t sure if he’s been asleep, exactly, but it felt like waking up; the world was a bit hazy, fuzzy around the edges. The smell of apple blossoms now fused into something heavier, orange and musky.

“Alberto said you like to come here before your shifts.”

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Alberto talks too much.”

“Nah, he’s alright. I sort of bribed him into it. There were pies involved and everything, I didn’t leave the poor bloke much of a choice.”

Now Draco opened both eyes. Po—Harry was leaning against a trunk beside him, and his whole face was one big smile.

“Well, that,” was all Draco managed for a minute and a half. “I mean. That’s cheating.”

That made him laugh. “I didn’t realise it was against the rules.”

“There aren’t rules. I just thought… why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you ask about me?” Draco wrapped an arm around his knees. That was the tip of the iceberg, really, of all the questions burning on his tongue: why are you still here and surely they miss you back home and was it on purpose, the other night?

Harry frowned like he didn’t understand. “Because I wanted to see you?”

Draco shook his head, and the shadow of the wide brimmed hat danced above his eyes. “You were supposed to go back last week. You have your recipes, there’s nothing more on the island for you.”

“Nothing more?” green eyes opened wide, sad.

“What more would you—” swallowing didn’t use to be such an ordeal—“want?”

Harry took a deep breath, and the nerves that were so evident on him a second ago melted into something comfortable and warm, something fond. “I thought I made that clear.”

“You don’t… be serious.”

“I am.” He scooted closer on the ground, and Draco didn’t know whether to lean towards him or run away. “I thought you knew why I came to the restaurant every day.”

“You wanted… Alberto has the…”

A hand startled him, gentle under his chin. Draco was so entranced by the smile he missed it coming. “He gave me everything I needed the first week. After that, I only came for you.”

He could only blink in response. Harry tipped Draco’s hat upwards, so it wouldn’t hit his nose. Then, with a groan, removed it altogether.

“You have to know, don’t you? How I feel. After that night.”

That night, in this very orchard, with only the stars and the apples to bear witness, when they danced to the chirping of grasshoppers and flies until they collapsed on the warm ground. Draco blinked at the smiling, freckled face.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Are you joking?” Harry asked, although he was the one laughing. “I’ve been so obvious, everyone—oh, Draco. You’re such a brilliant, wonderful idiot.”

“Takes one,” he murmured before he had any time to think. “Wait, so. The reason you stayed is… what you wanted was…”

“You, you marvelous twit,” now they were both laughing, with awe and relief and bewilderment, “I wanted you. Of course, for you.”

The light was so bright without his hat, it was harder to make the surroundings. Only Harry’s face, so close; only the little lines around his eyes, the unwavering way his smile went even wider, even softer.  

“Alberto thought maybe you were settling in,” Draco admitted breathlessly. “That you wanted to open your own place down here.”

“Or maybe work with you,” was Harry’s impossible, nonsensical reply, and he was entirely serious. Draco’s heart did something strange in his chest, tight and weightless.

“If Alberto agrees.”

They shared a quick, almost-chuckle. “If you’ll have me.”

“Yes.” He said the first without thinking. Then, after a minute: “Yes, of course.”

They looked at each other. The world smelled of apple blossom, of oranges and sweat and smiles and soft hands. The orchard rang with the raucous beating of his heart: a chaotic, elated melody, of summer, of happiness.

#drarry #hard times soft fic #chef Harry #he's writing a recipe book #waiter Draco #summer #fluff #700 words #RockingRobin69 #sending you all sunlight and happiness

[poppyseedfics]

i have been having thoughts

nazuna and his s/o going on an ice cream date when its like 100 degrees f outside

ice cream sweet and refreshing like him...

i'll stop before i start adopting my irl best friend's absurd jokes /pos

Idk how I managed to make Nazuna a side character, but this is Y/ns world, he’s just living in it.

Anyway topical cause it was warm today I got ice-cream. It slapped, it was like chocolate brownie.

OKAY ENJOY~

On an Ice-Cream Date

Nazuna Nito

In your defense, it was not summer. So, realistically, it was not your fault that you weren't prepared for the hottest day you think you've ever felt. 8am in the morning and it was already warm beyond belief. You'd kicked of your sheets during the night, the first thing you did when you got up was change into short and a tank top, you'd blasted the AC for a few hours now- closing the doors around the house so it only had to work to keep one room cool- but even that wasn't working quite well enough.

You'd taken to just sprawling out on the floor. Limbs spread out like a starfish and every few minutes you'd shuffle around a bit in attempt to feel the fresh, crisp coolness of an untouched floor space. You always made sure a leg or arm was touching one of Nazuna's though. He had joined you on the floor. Suffering in solidarity.

At first the two of you had tried to keep up a conversation, but it quickly dwindled into just loafing with some music on in the background.

"Nazunaaaaa, could you get us some ice water? I've already drunk mine…" You trailed off, staring at the large glass that had once contained your salvation. Nazuna only hummed for a moment. He didn't stir for a moment and you began to wonder if he'd heard you- soon after though, he heaved a sigh and began to peel himself off the floorboards. Meandering over toward the kitchen, he paused before opening the door that connected the rooms- dreading the sweltering air that was sure to greet him on the other side.

"I will face the heat for the both of us." He puffed out his chest and swung the door open, vanishing inside.

You could hear the sound of the fridge, a couple of glasses too, before you were blessed with a perfect idea.

You chirped his name and he appeared back in the doorway. He smiled as he watched your head appear from behind the couch as you craned your neck off the floor.

"Could you grab us some ice cream?"

"Sounds perfect to me!"

He vanished again and you laid your head back on the floor, eyes lazily trained on the ceiling.

It wasn’t long before Nazuna returned. He placed the new glasses of water on the coffee table before seating himself beside you and pouting.

"We're out of ice cream."

The words struck your heart; sharp as a knife, cutting through the layered defense of your emotions and leaving you utterly dejected.

Nazuna had to stifle a laugh as you dramatically deflated on the spot.

"Would you like to go get some ice-cream?"

You sprang upward immediately, rejuvenated with life. "Can we?" You asked, clasping your hands together with such excitement in your eyes it looked as though you'd just won the lottery. He laughed, nodding his head as he helped you to your feet. "It does mean we'll have to go outside in the heat…"

"A worthy sacrifice!"

 

Outside wasn't actually as bad as you'd first assumed it would be. There was a breeze, at least, and Nazuna had opted to grab an umbrella to keep the direct sun off you during your little walk. You had bottled water to satiate you on the way there too. The scenery was also quite pleasant; beautiful lush trees, arrays of colorful flowers, flittering birds and the quiet hum of the outer city. A good mood had befallen the both of you, you'd even taken to swinging your intertwined hands as you walked.

 Soon enough, however, you had reached your destination. As soon as the ice-cream truck had come into view you'd bounded off toward it, Nazuna not far behind. Only a few people were in line, more milled about but it seemed most had decided the heat wasn’t worth bearing for a treat- or perhaps they'd had the forethought to stock up…

Nazuna turned to you, asking what flavour you'd like. You hummed for a bit, reading over the menu multiple times before just deciding to go with your favourite. Nazuna ordered for you and paid. You couldn’t keep the grin off your face as you watched the man scoop your ice-cream and set it in a cone. As soon as they'd placed it on the holder you'd reached up with a cheerful 'Thank you!' and taken your reward.

After Nazuna had gotten his, the two of you found a tree nearby and taken a seat under it.

"What flavour did you get?" You asked between licks. Nazuna hummed for a moment.

"I thought I'd try the Mango one- It's quite good!"

He smiled for a moment- just a moment, before he realized the trap he'd fallen into. You bat your eyes at him. He sighed, holding out his ice-cream toward you. With a cheer you leant over and took a sample of his sorbet. You did have to agree that it was quite nice. It was refreshing- it reminded you of summer… of which was not the current season, but to be honest, this left you almost missing it.

"Here, try some of mine! It's only fair." You held out your ice-cream as Nazuna had done and he smiled, leaning forward to try some. As he did so, you leant forward too and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Nazuna flushed red. His eyes went wide and all he could do was blink owlishly at you. You burst into laughter. He gingerly raised his hand to touch where you had kissed him and once he finally processed, he offered only an adorable pout.

"Careful! Your ice-cream is melting!" At this Nazuna let out a little yelp and quickly went to inspecting his ice-cream, switching hands and trying to lick the melted mess off his fingers. You dug into your pocket and produced some napkins you had stashed away and offered them to him. He accepted them quickly and cleaned up, cheeks still tinted pink.

 You spent the rest of the afternoon lounging under that tree, laughing and chatting- you even dozed off for awhile, content with the peace of the day and comfort of your beloved.

Facing the heat really hadn't been so bad.

#nazuna nito x reader #nazuna nito #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #enstars #ensemble stars #admin lemon

[graciellasamma]

My version of Donut the Musical

Hi guys! I made this version of my AU, where everyone reacting to Donut the Musical because honestly it was quite funny of how the song goes. If you want to know about this AU go to see my oc “Frøy Kurenai.”

I hope you guys like it

Nora: Umm... Hey Donut!

Donut: Yes Nora?

Nora: They mentioned something about “Donut the Musical”, what is “Donut the Musical”?

Reds and Blues: NO!!!

But it was too late, as Donut took a deep breath and somehow we can literally hear his music out of nowhere.

Sarge: Oh no…

Jaune: What's happening?

Doc: Uh…

Tex: Oh dear lord…

Wyoming: Ugh, why now?

Yaiba & Daiji: Is he going to do what I think he's going to do?

Grif: Ah… shit!

Flowers: Please, Donut! No!

Church & Momotaros: Is he fucking singing!?

South: Oh, for fuck sake!

Caboose: Go! Muffincakes! Go!

Frøy: Yeah! Go make people suffer with us!

Arms Monster: FRØY!!!

Frøy: If I have to suffer from hearing this song, then so are you!!

Cue random musical number because it isn't a spin-off without one!

Donut: Let me blow you... away… You won't believe your eyes and ears today… You are in for a surprise When you look into my eyes You won't be able to deny my ga… ZE!

Jaune: Wait, your what!?

Donut: Come on Jaune, you can't deny my deep, penetrating... eye contact! My gaze! What did you think I said?

Jaune: Uhh... 

Pyrrha: (quickly reply for Jaune) Don't ask.

Sarge: (whisper) Good move...

Donut: Don't tell!

Donut: Let me blow you... away… There is nothing that I will not do or say… To entertain a Red companion In this hot and sweaty canyon Like a stallion I am bursting through the ga... TE!

Aruto: A what?

Donut: You know, a stallion. A stud, a horse with a big...

Horobi & Jiro: Don’t you dare finish that sentence!

Donut: Saddle! Now who wants to mount up?

CT, Weiss, & Momotaros: Oh God…

Donut: Let me start with this inquiry Which I've recorded in my diary I've got a secret thing I want to say… What's worse, than a conundrum? Or a cheerleader threesome…? Doc, Caboose, Ryutaros, Ikazuchi, Vice, Yang, & Frøy: Bitches!

Church, Flowers, Leo, Horobi, Izuku, Weiss, & Jiro: DON'T JOIN HIM!

Donut: Not taking time to enjoy life each day… You see the fun, will never cease As long as we've got elbow grease Donut, Doc, & Vice: There's really nothing to it When you're using head… light… Donut: Flu… id… ah…!

Naki & Ruby: Headlight Fluid?

Simmons: Long story short, when Donut had just arrived at red base and we pulled the “go to the store” prank.

Urataros: Donut, you do know there's no such thing as headlight fluid.

Donut: Depends on what you mean by "head"!

Flowers: We’re just going to pretend we don't know what you mean...

Donut: I'm going to pretend you do! 

At this point, everyone apart from Caboose, Vice, and Doc collectively sighed.

Donut:  I caught the fever for hot fun And I'm recruiting everyone You know, this army needs a little style…

Sarge: No it doesn't Donut! We don't need your damn daffodils in the armoury!

Donut: Hold my ankles, stretch my hammies I hope that you like double whammies 'Cause I'm gonna sing and dance until you smile!

Doc & Vice: 'Til you smile!

Caboose & Ryutaros: I’m smilling! Yay!

Momotaros: Look I’m also smilling! Now please stop singing!

Grif: (face to Izuku and Leo) It's too late for them. Don't even bother.

Donut: Some soldiers only… work or nap While I ride in shotgun's lap Doc & Vice: Shotgun's lap… Donut: The solution's simple! I'll fill 'em up With my Donut, Doc, & Vice: Po… tent… ial...!

Ramon: Shotgun’s lap?

North: Shotgun’s lap simply sitting in the lap of the guy who called shotgun.

Leo: When did that happen?

Simmons: It started when we needed to get somewhere, and the Warthog only had a three seater and so half of us had to sit on each others laps.

Grif: Please, never remind me!

George: Okay! Donut, please, enough with the double entendres!

Frøy: Gheo! No don’t-

Donut: Double entendre? Is that anything like a ménage-à-trois?

Frøy: Great job Gheo, great job...

George: What?!

Donut: In that case…

Horobi & Fuwa: Is he still going!?

Donut: Let me blow you... away… Like a needle I'll get lost inside your hay… Easy if you know how, just like milking a cow (Cow Bell!) Like we do it on the farm back in I-O-W-A…!

Delta: Moooo!

Everyone turned their heads to see Delta had played the sound of the cow bell and a cow mooing,

York: Not really helping, D!

Doc: Hmmm. So you really grew up on a farm in Iowa?

Donut: Yep. You spend a lot of time thinking when you're on the farm. And then a lot of time repressing those thoughts.

Everyone promptly started to shift away from him,

Donut: Let me blow you... away… I'm on my knees, just to have a chance today… If you see me winking, it's 'cause we're both thinking (Donut then blows a kiss… at Sarge) This lightish-red armor looks so ga... rish!

Ren: Uh… sorry, what did you call your armour?

Donut: Garish. It means totally lacking in good taste.

Ikazuchi: Huh. Kinda like this song.

South: For the millionth time, Donut, your armor is clearly pink!

Donut: It's lightish-red!

Momotaros: Seriously?! It’s clearly pink!

Donut: No! It’s lightish-red!

Blake: Why won't you just admit?

Urataros: Yeah, you're not fooling anyone Donut.

Jin: Um… are we still talking about his armor color, or something else?

Donut: Enough talk, you guys! It's time for some action!

Everyone: NO!

Jin: I still want to know what you guys are talking about!

Donut: After this!

Donut: So let me blow you... Doc & Vice: Blow you… Donut: Blow you all... One by one... Individually... Or in a group... Blow you... Away...!

Kintaros: The song was so horrible... (starting to sob) that even it makes me cry!

Momotaros: PLEASE DEAR GOD, STOP SINGING!!

But it was ignored by Donut, who still closed his eyes, so Momotaros decide to book it, and he’s not the only one.

Donut: So… how was it?

Donut asked as he opened his eyes, only to see everyone gone, having ran as far away from Donut as they could.

Donut: Oh well, I guess they went out to find the others. I guess I'll wait here.

#red vs blue #rvb #CrossOver #kamen rider #kamen rider kiva #kamen rider zero one #kamen rider revice #kamen rider den o #rwby #oc

[zhongrin]

HELP RIN THAT ISN'T A BRAINROT THAT'S A WHOLE FIC !!!! /pos (putting the tag just in case jsjhdjhaj) Not gonna lie, I just wrote that off of some very dark thoughts-, that's the main reason as to why I got to write angst properly that time BUT THIS TIME, it's very normal ! :DD (also forgive my rusty writing, it's been a few days since I fully wrote anything TT) =====

"Ah," As Zhongli snaps out of his trance, he finds himself forgetting something. "Hmm, perhaps a cup of tea would bring it back." He muses, preparing himself another drink. The warm, bittersweet taste of the liquid soothes his worries - yet, he finds himself doubting his 'perfect memory' when blurry images of a face play in his mind. The man sighs, leaving the uneasiness to simmer and slowly sink in. He dearly wishes he hadn't. *** Immortality is a curse, Zhongli knows all too well. A curse that binds him to the harrowing clock of time, a millennia of it he's experienced - bloodied with the sacrifices and loss and painted with the compassion left behind by those whom he did lose. With forever comes the monotonous tick and ring when the hands reach midnight, a familiar and unnerving experience each time it bellows in his eardrums. Oh how he wishes he never knew it better than you. It spread like a tasteless poison on his tongue, grasping tight to the walls of his throat, leaving him unable to utter even a cry for help. Why would he even? An archon - albeit he be a retired one - he was once glorified and revered to by thousands, millions of people. How could he let the hysterical screams for your name be heard? It would be improper and unbefitting of the man he is and once was. "Darling, (Name), forgive me, I apologize for being too late..." Oh, how he knelt before your body as if to beg for forgiveness, the years of suffering before you long forgotten when faced with your last breathe and tear. "Please, dearest, please.." Cradled like a vase on the verge of shattering, Zhongli wiped away the hideous red soaked on your clothes, wiped away the tears you've left behind bit by bit. It hurt him to do so, it did. He had yet to retell the tales of old almost no one knew of, yet to ingrain the moments your fingers ran through his hair and treated it like the finest of silk. In your arms, he found peace, tranquil, and solicitude. Now however - all he is left with are the memories that would soon be lost without you. Zhongli lays alone on the cold mattress, clutching the sheets tightly to his chest. The clock strikes midnight - and along with it, he momentarily remembers you. 'Forgive me for forgetting you, my love.' =====

Hope I delivered as you expected Rin ! ♡

"it's very normal"

"it's very normal"

*head in hands* *massages temples* *breaks down crying anyway* must you hurt me continuously like this- /j /nm

#rin answers #rin is having tea with: kazu 💙 #wow is today angst day it seems like today is angst day #there aren't tears i tell you it's just it's been raining these past few days ok shUT- #HFLADJKFJADFJKLSADJFKLJKLSDF #what is it that makes seeing our f/o breaking down when we die so appealing i wonder #maybe we all just want to matter to someone else and seeing the proof of that in a not-actually-harmful way is a therapeutic experience #(deep sunday night thoughts with rin hsldjfksdf)

[fruitstories]

Puška ustreli.

1

2

3

Obstaja življenje pred tem

In po tem.

No spring should remain asleep.

And no morning should ever remain silent.

Ampak bilo je eno jutro, eno jutro, ko je tišina brzela po moji koži ;

That morning was longer than many and shorter than most

And silence

Was running down my skin.

I open my body to his instrument

And he dared to become a bastard to it.

red flush, heat heat heat; hit hit and run,

faster than you ever could.

I open my body to his instrument

Only to realize much later that in fact it was he.

He the one who opened it. He the one who forced through.

And the glass door

Shattered. Shattered. Shattered.

small, a morning of nothing except that it is everything;

nothing nothing fucking; beg. Beg. Beg.

Slain by desire once again. Spawning his little fingers all over my body, falling next to me, my shame, unsurprisingly, reaching a climax.

Za gorami mi je vzel telo. Bila sem kot črnilo in polzela po njegovih mastnih rokah. Koža se je lepila na njegove pijane kaplje.

I removed myself from existence and sentenced myself to paper and silence.  

        how do I hold my hands when they are handcuffed?

Od svojega mednožja bi rada obdržala le nož.

You want to talk sexuality? Then talk about silence; talk about tongues too tangled in their shame to even know when and what to talk for; talk submission; talk romanticizing toxic traits; you see, my kink, my kink is having someone to fuck my brains with; it’s absolute infatuation; reci mi, da sem tvoja lutka, princeska, malička;

These are the archetypes of my sexuality :

 angel, heartbreaker, homewrecker, the other woman, a myth, Saloma, pure maddening sex, wrote Bukowski, “She was perfect, pure maddening sex, and she knew it, and she played on it, dripped it, and allowed you to suffer for it." Pure maddening sex, pure and mad;

Want to talk about sexuality? Then talk about shame; hands around the throat, powerless doll, breathless; at least I do not need to talk; I built my desire by first analysing the desire of men; by removing myself from existence and re-emerging almost as a myth; pure, maddening sex; nedolžen in nor seks;

want to talk about sexuality? Then I’ll talk about violence confused for love; lust confused for love; sex as forgiveness, as devotion, as love; včasih si jeza in ljubezen izposodita isto sobo in meni vedno znova uspe izgubiti ključ;

you can go deep, deep, deep into my body; reach until there is nothing to reach anymore but all that matters is how I spilled on the streets

you;

The rusted and dirty canals underneath

Taking my liquids ;

For some reason,

I did want to be devoured.

But that comes as no surprise –

When you refuse your body, it starts refusing you;

However…

Relapsing underneath someone else’s body was still the warmest collapse I could ever experience –

In the process I lost my words, I lost my language.

So if you want to talk about sexuality, then find a language to talk about it, first; unlearn the language of love that is in fact only violence; I thought getting fucked by life was enough but then I got fucked by men; I touch and touch as if blind; ; I can move and shape the air between our skins to mean I am adored, I am adored, I am adored; I can ride you until you start loving me;

 if I can make you cum, you’ll always come back to me, right?

But at the end of it, I wish to be untouched.

I’m opening the words I left on my skin, reaching back for those I left on yours; but please –

find my tongue and untangle it without ever touching it and I will let my words shape this air between us

These miles and miles of all I wanted to write in this air

To touch you with my breath

Count the whispers that never left my skin ;

*Sigh*

I am back

To the long longing

The necessary tremble of the chest

I wish to be

Untouched untouched

          I am back

But the days to follow miss the touch of my hands

and time is a marathon runner.

Catching glimpses of reflections; be it this or that, it never fully matters;

or it matters

way too much.

I extended my hands too far, too often;

letting my veins

pump too fast;

I am flooding; a flood ready to be drank, indulged in by someone seeking

the bits of sun's reflection in my liquids. Devour, devour me.

Depersonalize me. Become my questions and papercuts;

You breathe on my words. Become them; i tell you. Become my words. Take their shape and form like the mattress underneath.

Morph in my verbs and commas ; become not the ending marks, become only what indicates continuation, please.

Please never become the ending sign.

Your story needs more. More than a question mark, more than a dot, more than an exclamation mark - except in fucking, then, morph yourself into all of the exclamation marks you want, shout them out in my body, make my body become one as well.

tvoji kodri letijo nad mojim obrazom - tvoj nežen nasmeh, ko se zazibaš med mojimi mišicami - tvoji prsti, ki skočijo v mojo ustno votlino in razvozlajo moj jezik

I do not know if my body is the beginning or the end but I want to dance, baby, dance on top of your tired and sad body, as if trying to bring it back to life, as if trying to separate present from past, past from future; as if trying to separate sound from echo; to invent a new language in which the sound of my desire is not only an echo of yours; I want to stop believing that blood stains are as lovely as rose petals;

Some departures take us and drown us, without ever being hit by an iceberg. The cutting of the anchor rode is enough for a farewell that will never reach mother land again. The cutting of the umbilical cord when birth becomes the first exit, withdrawal, flight. The first rare change of course, the Atlantic Ocean spilling into the Mediterranean sand, the coast of Gibraltar becoming a dire strait, the Atlas Mountains emerging as a reminder that this skin is not your country anymore;

                     I take a minute

          To mourn the body

Buried underneath yours.

On a day like today, this is a reminder that my art is not dead even if I might be -

That every sound I make is a bit of an autobiography.

and that my poetry is the art of my silence.

Words carry doubts, as much as they carry hope. As long as they can be uttered – spoken – let free. Every word used has a particular history on its small back, a backpack of worry, of trust, of effort.

Words sound different when they are sentenced to paper. A death sentence of truth. Words remain, articulating all that cannot be found on the tongue itself. It is in written words that my bones reveal their cracks. A thought travels from the insides to the tip of the fingers and draws. Body becomes word, becomes language. Poetry is what I do not dare to say with my tongue. Or, maybe, poetry is when I don’t know how to say it with my tongue. With my voice. It is also only one of the many truths, raw and nasty, symbolic and metaphoric;

It is only now that I am learning how to not be conquered by silence anymore – because

I too am a conqueror.

And if spring cannot be stopped from waking up, then neither can my words. Neither can I.

I am a conqueror. Polishing my word. Becoming it. Becoming word. I pick up my bones from the cemetery of my words. I am raising my bones. I will find the muscle. The skin. I will find the eyes and the mouth. I will find the glue to put it all together. To make a body of work. A body of words. A body of myself. I will find myself –

Will become myself.

Od svojega mednožja bi rada obdržala le nož;

Nož = knife

Mednožje = that, which is between the legs

From what is between my legs I would like to keep only the knife.

#rambling

[sw4tch]

i may be stupid

And suffering the consequences of my own actions. Which leaves me quite anxious this week!

But I'll power through it.

Today i told one of my coworkers that the secret to good confidence is starting with a "fake it till you make it" kind of attitude

(Because well, that's what has worked for me. I was a chump before Fake it Till You Make it, now I'm a GODDAMN DELIGHT and everybody loves me! *canned laughter*)

But he said he wasn't sure he liked that. He said he hated lying to himself.

I tried to explain that it only starts as a lie because you feel like you're lying to yourself at first. But then, after practice, you realize that telling yourself truths comes far more easily (yes you're capable, a good person, talented, deserving of love etc etc).

But maybe i explained it wrong, so he insisted it felt like lying to yourself. I let it be, he's valid if he feels that way.

But.

Well, now it has left me thinking.

Am i a sham?

Do others think I'm a conman?

Do others think I'm fake?

As i write this, i feel a bit glad. Because i realize i do not care that much.

I am the biggest conman in the world and i am winning at life babey! You wish you could pull it off as well as i do.

Jokes aside, I'm glad because that's not what has left me upset. I am sure of myself. I love myself.

I guess what left me upset is that this other coworker that was also part of the conversation insisted that then, my method, could also turn you into someone narcissistic that believes their own delusions of grandeur.

Now that hurt.

...Am i narcissistic? The thought scares me.

I hate the thought. I hate it.

Is it a crime? To love yourself so much? To know you deserve good things and good things only? To know that you're.

Imperfect.

And yet.

You're trying your best not to be?

It scares me.

Because i know I'm not perfect. I'm flawed (oh god so flawed). But.

Well, my current vision of the world allows me to be my own apologist.

Yeah, I'm self indulgent to a fault. I'm a hedonist. I care little to none about internet discourse i have deemed irrelevant and pointless to my life. I try to live life as deliciously as possible.

And yet. And yet. And yet.

I feel a deep guilt about my existence to this day. I fight each day. I remind myself.

I am a goddamn delight.

So i am allowed to feel proud of who i am and what i do, despite it all.

Does that make me a monster?

I. I want to think it doesn't.

For one reason only:

I try, at the best of my capabilities, to remind others that they too are Amazing. They too are special. They too are the protagonists of their own life. They too deserve to live as deliciously as possible.

I want everyone to be a hedonist, to be in love with themselves. I want everyone to stop being so goddamn suicidal around me (a genuine problem that depresses me because it's so fucking difficult to tell them HEY FUCKO, YOUR OUTRIGHT EXPLICIT SUICIDAL IDEATIONS AROUND ME TRIGGER ME because one, they don't give a shit and two, it hurts me that people i care about feel that way and i can't do anything about it).

That's the part i keep silent. But that's the truth. I want everyone to get angry like i do. Angry at a world that wants them dead.

Rebel.

Rise.

Fight.

Get back at the world by deciding to live as long as possible.

Make it rue the day it decided it wanted to break you in half.

...anyway, i am still upset by the implication that maybe i have become a narcissist.

It's... something i hate. I don't want to be like Her. I don't want to hurt others. I don't want to be a monster.

(Do you remember what i said about monsters? What i said I'd do if i realized I'd become monstrous?)

So.

Sigh.

After a disastrous weekend... I find myself saddened by this thought alone: you're truly disgusting in everything you do.

I need to remind myself, as i usually do, that those are the real lies i tell myself.

The truth is: i am imperfect.

And that's okay.

Somedays, you are wrong.

So you need to take it in stride. And bow to be better next time.

Change is possible. You can change.

You'll be alright in the end.

And Snaily, my dearest beloved, the one i live for:

You're a goddamn absolute delight.

#snaily blabber

[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.

#bts #kim taehyung #Kim Taehyung smut #kim taehyung oneshot #Kim Taehyung x reader #kim taehyung scenarios #bts smut #ficswithluv #bts v #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #networkbangtan #armysource #heartsforbts #btswriterscollective #bangtanidx #magicshopnet #bts fan fiction #kim taehyung fanfiction #bts Christmas

[aetherarf]

So as my first request, if possible and you feel comfortable, I would like to ask for something with diluc, kaeya ​​and childe with a fem reader who had an abusive father. I don't care how he was abusive, you can choose which one favors you best. And with that, I would like to know how the characters would react by discovering this or how they would deal with the traumas and the reader's fear. Anyways, whatever you think is best 💓

Hello! Also I think I'll go with somewhat different one's each time... ( Diluc gets the short end of the stick again ). Also... I will admit, unless I tackle gender-based topics, I write men and women Readers the same...? You can easily read it as GN but I'll probably just default to GN terms since men and women both suffer from abuse and Gender is a complicated thing that doesn't fit into these writings. [Sorry if I disappoint!]

Edit: forgot to put a summary oopsie

[[ WARNING: ANGST, ABUSE MENTION, RAPE MENTION ]]

[[ Summary: You loved him, you loved him with your whole heart... but no matter your love, you had to eventually tell him what broke you, and caused you to act this way

Total Word Count: 1'880

Childe Word Count: 544

Diluc Word Count: 734

Kaeya Word Count: 602 ]]

Childe

Childe considered himself a pretty affectionate guy--He liked innocent wrestling, tickle-fights, and if he had his way, he'd have his hand on you every second of the day, on your hip, around your shoulders, holding your hand, or even just having your pinkies intertwined was enough.

However, you flinched. Every time he ever tried to make a motion towards you, you flinched, and i you didn't flinch, your eyes widened in shock.

You would apologize, and he tried to dismiss it, It's okay, you didn't do anything. I'm sorry for scaring you.

And he left it at that. But, you were sitting next to him, and he yawned, trying to casually wrap an arm around you, but as soon as he touched your shoulders, you yelped, flinching and staring at his offending arm in shock... and then, slowly, you took deep breaths.

"I'm sorry," you said, exhausted, "I didn't mean to jump."

Childe put his hand on his lap... and he frowned.

"You didn't do anything wrong... but... can I ask... why you flinch from me?" He asked, tilting his head to the side a little, "Normally, that wouldn't be an issue, but... I guess after seeing it so much, I wonder if I've been hurting you on accident, or... if you just don't trust me. I don't like... feeling bad all the time."

You shook your head, grabbing his hand--you were always better when you initiated it, rather than him, "You-Of course not. You've never hurt me, you're always good... it's just..."

Childe looked at you, expectantly, "Just...?"

"... I-I got hit a lot, in the past. I... don't think I've gotten over it. But-you didn't do anything, it was just... him."

Childe's face... darkened. His eyes--they seemed almost empty as he stared for a moment, his hand slowly shifting to grab yours, firm but gentle.

"Who hit you...?" He asked, completely serious... dark.

"It-Childe, you're scaring me."

He blinked once-twice, and that horrific expression disappeared, back to his sweet, charming, slightly-dumb self.

"I'm sorry, snowbird. But-Who hurt you? What happened?"

You hesitated... you'd have to tell him eventually, and there would never be a more perfect time than this.

"My-my father. He... He was a very angry individual. Any slight irritation, and..."

Childe, slowly, lifted your hand to his mouth to press a gentle kiss upon the back.

"You don't have to keep talking if it's too hard," he said, with a smile, "I get it... But-It must be hard to live like that, right?"

You nodded, "It's... awful," you admitted, "I hate it. I don't like feeling scared of you... Even if... No, wait..."

"I get it," he reassured, even if he didn't hide his pained expression well. "I'm a Harbinger... I can get you the best consoling and therapy that money can buy... I can't help you, i mean, talking me me won't help that much, but... Would you do that for me? I can set it all up, I promise... I just need you to go."

You stared.

"Will you go with me, the first time?"

He hesitated.

"Well, I probably won't talk much, since I want it to be about you, but... I'll go. I'll make sure no one as much as lays a hand on you ever again."

Diluc

You and Diluc got along well. You both enjoyed cuddling, but sometimes you slept back-to-back, not from any sort of lack of intimacy, but you just didn't want to cuddle.

You liked to cook together, Diluc oftentimes taking the lead. When he was alone, in the safety of your home, he was quite soft spoken, never raising his voice, and he was gentle whenever he touched you--He truly was a gentleman to his core.

But as you both lie in bed, Diluc reading a book as he furiously squinted at it, you reminded of his worsening vision, you sighed softly.

"Diluc," you said, and he lifted his head, surprised, before he looked down at you. He didn't say anything, just waiting for you to speak.

"... Are you disappointed? With me? With us?" You asked, months and months of fear finally coming out--you couldn't even be upset, or sob, or fuss, you just felt tired.

"What?" He asked, staring at you for a moment. "No. I'm happy. Are you... Disappointed?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper, barely able to hold in his fear.

You pushed yourself up, "No, no, I just... You know what people do when they're together."

Diluc stared at you blankly, waiting a response. After a few second too long, "Oh," he said, "... Do you think I don't love you?" He asked,

"No, no, I meant-sex. I just... We've never done it. Are you... Disappointed?" You asked. He shook his head,

"No. I have you, I don't need sex."

You were quiet for a moment.

"You don't want to... Have sex with me?" You asked--you didn't know whether to be pleased, to know he loved you so dearly that he didn't care for that, or to be insulted.

"I..." He took a deep breath, "I don't want to have sex with anyone or anything, really. If you wanted to, I could... Come to terms with the idea. It's not you, I just... Sex doesn't... Appeal."

You sighed... Were you relieved? You still felt an agonizing pain in your chest. "I get it--and... I guess not, I'm happy with us." You said, smiling as you looked over his face... He, however wasn't smiling.

"You're lying," he said, stating it so plainly that it sounded like a fact, "You brought this up because it was upsetting you."

While lying, you put your arm over your eyes... focusing on breathing, as to not sound choked up--strained.

"I just... I don't know. I was-I was scared you'd ask."

He set everything off to the side, and instead laid down beside you, gathering you up in his arms as he held you close--his hand gently running up and down your back.

"Are you afraid of sex?" He asked... "... If it makes you feel better, I am too."

You looked up at him, staring for a moment.

"I... I was raped," you said, without realizing, "By... my father. He-He was... drunk. It happened... more than once. I don't think he ever remembered, he was-he was so good to me when he was sober, but..."

You hid into his chest, hiding from the world.

"I'm scared," you whined, softly, "I'm tired of waiting for it to happen... with you."

Diluc pressed a kiss atop your head, "... I would never do that, and I don't drink." There was a long moment of silence, "... You have told me about your pain, and... I believe it's only right I tell you of mine. I... Have a similar story," his voice was shaking, as he was struggling to even think... or to talk.

"It was not by my father, he was a good man... But-I... had a friend. Someone I... once cared for. I was drugged, and..."

He swallowed thickly.

"I was aware. I could feel everything, but I could not control my body. I... I understand why you are afraid. I think, I'm afraid too."

You held him close.

"I don't want us to be afraid anymore."

You could only nod at that, closing your eyes as he held you--But, somehow, despite all this fear, you felt so safe in his arms.

"Do you think... we should talk to someone? A professional?" He asked, "I... I never told anyone, but... It... Might be good. For both of us."

"I think so, too." You pressed a kiss over his heart, "Can we go to bed, though, like this?"

"Of course, my blossom."

Kaeya

Kaeya considered himself pretty keen--He noticed how you would, oftentimes, try to desperately explain and justify doing anything. You were minding your own business, reading? You'd try and justify it, "I just... had a hard day. It's not anything bad, I promise."

And he's usually reply with that signature smile, "You could be reading porn and I wouldn't mind, you know."

You laughed it off, but there was an edge of fear in your voice.

Fear.

You were always afraid, and he wanted to fix that. So, he took a day off, just to prepare everything. Some nice candles, a good dinner, some fine wine... And when you came home, he hugged you, held you delicately like you were made of glass. You had a lovely dinner together, with sweet smiles and gentle kisses...

Until the two of you sat together, and Kaeya, lightly, rested his hand on your leg.

"I... Figure you're in a decently-good mood, right?"

You were, it was nice... but you were terrified about what he was going to ask.

"I wanted to you about something... why are you so... scared around me? I don't mind what you do, you can read what you want and do what you want, you don't need my approval for anything... except maybe sleeping with others, but..." He sighed, "Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?" He grabbed your hand, holding it with both of his own, "I want to make this right, I don't want you to be afraid of me."

...

How could you respond?

"I'm not afraid of you, I'm... just afraid. Old habits die hard, I guess," you laugh, but it's broken and forced--Kaeya does not laugh.

"Why?" He asked, voice low, "Are... is something threatening you? Blackmailing you? If you just tell me, I can fix it. I have my ways."

"No, it's... not blackmail." You tried to think of how to word it.

"If I may guess," he said, "Has someone... hurt you in the past?"

As you looked at him, eyes wide and vulnerable... he knew he hit the nail in the head.

Suddenly, you poured it all out.

How, everytime you did anything, even just looked at someone for too long, how he would yell at you, punish you for anything you did. Reading a book for your studies, he would threaten to burn it, you desperately having to convince him of its innocuous nature, hiding anything you wanted to keep safe.

How he'd scream for hours at a time, until his voice was hoarse and you were terrified he'd make good on his promises that you'd die by his hand.

As you spoke, Kaeya had only stopped looking at you for a single moment, to grab a box of tissues to set upon your lap, "Go on," he said, when you hesitated.

And, now you leaned against his shoulder, slumping... weak and exhausted. He, slowly, wrapped his arms around you, letting your head fall to his chest as he squeezed you close.

"I... I'm sorry. I truly am sorry, love,"

For a moment, he was quiet.

"I don't know how to help, but... I know someone you can talk to. Help you... Get through it. Therapy."

You lifted your head, looking at him with glassy eyes.

"Will you come with me?"

He hesitated.

"He's safe... But I'll go with you a few times until you can trust them, okay?"

You, weakly, nodded. "Okay."

"For now... Do you want to go to bed?"

Weakly, you smiled, "Only if you keep me safe from my nightmares."

Kaeya smiled back-"I'll do the best I can."

#genshin impact #diluc #childe #kaeya #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #bark writes #angst #angsty bark #hurt and comfort #// took me awhile...

[neonacity]

HYACINTHE | CHAPTER 4: JAEMIN X READER

SUMMARY: 

Na Jaemin is far from being your typical 20 year old. Instead of slaving through college, he wastes away his hours cracking safes. Weekends that should be spent partying with friends consist of illegal races on good days and small scale bombings on bad ones. 

Na Jaemin is far from being average, unless you consider being a member of Seoul’s top organized crime family normal. There is no such thing as a sense of normality and peace in his trainwreck of a life, so when he met a barista who was brave enough to call out his dangerous taste in coffee, he was like a moth to the flame. Everything about her is normal, which means she is forbidden to him, in all sense of the word. So why, then, does he always find himself at the front steps of her shop, breaking all his personal rules even if he wishes he could stay away?

A/N + Disclaimer: this is a side story to Black Daisies, my main mafia fic feat. 0T23. While the plot is based on the main story, this can also be read as a standalone fic. As usual, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way am I implying any member of NCT to behave the way I write them here. 

TW: crimes, heists, potential death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities.

PAIRING: Jaemin x Reader 

CHAPTER 1 / CHAPTER 2 / CHAPTER 3 / 

FIC TRAILER

MASTERLIST

"Hi. Can I have one iced americano, no sugar, with an espresso shot, please?" 

 My hands froze and hovered momentarily on the drink I was preparing as I heard a male voice say that from the counter. I didn't turn around to check who it was, but my boss—who is currently helping me man the cafe today—was quick enough to dash the pit-pattering of my chest. He hooked the order slip on the board in front of me and my eyes immediately raised to read the name there. 

"One to-go, americano for Youngho." 

I sighed internally. Whether it be from relief or disappointment though, I don't really know. A part of me wanted to be in denial of my emotions, but I realized you can only go so far if the person you are trying to fool is just yourself. 

It's been almost three months since that night that I last saw Jaemin. I wish I didn't know the exact number of days that passed since then, but I do and I couldn't help it. Every little detail of what happened was still marked fresh in my mind, especially the feeling of hollowness that exploded in my chest when I woke up that morning to see them gone.

If not for the chip on the edge of the table left by Jeno as he tried to hold a half delirious Haechan down that night, I could have easily brushed off everything as a fleeting dream. But it isn't. It is a nightmare, at least in my part. 

He really meant it when he said he would leave me alone. 

There were no calls, no messages, no visits, nothing. It was like he didn't exist at all, the past year spent with him nothing but an imagined illusion. 

We were back to being strangers again, exactly like how he wants to. If you think about it, it's selfless of him to do this, but I hate it. I hate it with everything I have. 

Why? Because now I have to live through the feeling that I'm the only one suffering from all of that has happened. I couldn't watch the news anymore without thinking about him. For heaven's sake, I couldn't even get an iced coffee order without freezing like a statue because I remember him. I hate it. I hate every single moment without him, as much as I didn't want to admit it.

I placed the plastic cover over the finished drink with a soft sigh before turning to hand it over to the customer. At least I can still manage to put out my well-practiced, service smile. 

"Iced Americano for Youngho," I called out into the receiving area as I slipped a straw on the cup sleeve. A tall man looked up and walked over to me to receive it. 

"Thank you for coming to Brick and Beans. I hope you visit us again soon," I said in autopilot, my words so well-rehearsed that I didn't even have to think through while delivering them. The customer smiled at me before giving me a wink.

"I sure will. Thanks for this, sweet cheeks." He turned and left the shop, leaving me slightly confused. 

My attention was then called by my boss who had just finished wiping down the counter. The man—who really has been more of a father figure than an employer for me—gave me a warm smile and motioned me over. 

"Can we talk? I have something to tell you." 

I briefly glanced at the clock. It isn't my break time yet, but the store is empty so I guess it will be fine. I shrugged. 

"Sure."

"Grab a cake for you and me while you're at it," he nodded towards the pastry fridge before walking towards the nearest empty table. I wordlessly took two slices of basque cheesecake, his favorite, before following him. The man has a mean sweet tooth and we both know it.

He was silent for a little bit as he took the fork to take a bite of his treat. I waited patiently for him to speak, hands politely folded over my lap.

"I'm going to sell the cafe." 

I blinked and stared. I wasn't expecting that at all. 

"You're… what?" 

He sighed and leaned back against his seat. He looked a little sad over what he just said but he managed to offer me a small smile.

"I'm getting older. You know how much I love this place because I started it with my late wife, but I really can't continue to manage it anymore. My children, unfortunately, do not have any plans of continuing the business. And they've been asking me to retire, too." 

I nodded slowly, taking the news bit by bit. 

"Do you already have a buyer, ahjussi?" 

"I do. It is kind of strange, actually. Someone offered to buy off the franchise at such a perfect time. And for a very good price, too." 

That made me smile. I've had this job ever since I started college so it makes me a little sad that it's going to have a new owner, but I really am happy for him. I just hope whoever buys it off takes care of it really well. The old man loves this place to bits. 

I felt him take a hold of my hands from across the table. I looked up and was met with a fatherly smile. 

"Don't worry. You won't lose your job. The new owners said that they aren't planning to change anything here and I told them that they had to take you with them." 

That made me almost want to burst into tears. I squeezed his hand back in return. 

"Ahjussi... You didn't have to do that. I can always look for another job." Who am I kidding? I know it will be hard for me to land another sideline especially with all the financial hiccups I am already dealing with so this is really sending me over to the edge of tears. 

"Nonsense. You are part of this business. You've done so much for this place so you deserve this. Don't worry, they said yes to my condition." 

I gave his hands another squeeze and he answered back with a fatherly pat. 

"Thank you…" 

"You're welcome. Just promise me, when you become a doctor, you'll give me free checkups, okay?" 

"No, I won't. Because you will always be healthy and won't need my help at all," I said with a wrinkle of my nose. 

That sent the two of us laughing. 

"When will the new owners take over?"

"By the end of the month," my eyes rounded with surprise and he nodded in understanding. "I know, I know. It really happened too fast. I can't turn down the offer though. To be honest it was way beyond what the business is worth." 

I sighed. "Well… as long as you are sure about them." 

"I am. For now, I'll be here for a bit with you. I just need to enjoy my last days here. So just don't mind your old man, okay?" 

I grinned. 

"Only if you promise to give me a free cake every day you are here." 

He reached out to ruffle my hair. 

"Deal."

----

It was a slow day at the cafe so my boss decided to turn down the jazz music that usually floats from the speakers in lieu of the television volume. It was an odd hour in the afternoon and I found myself smiling as I watched him flip the channels over to look for a good show to watch while I dried some mugs. Just then, the overhead bell on the door dinged, welcoming with it a pair of uni-looking kids. 

My boss looked over, but I was quick to jump to action instead. "I'll take care of it," I mouthed to him, to which he gave me a smile before turning his attention back to what he was doing.

"Hi. Welcome to Brick and Beans. What can I offer you today?"

"We'll have one dirty chai latte and one irish coffee over ice. Make it to go. " 

The couple offered their names and I nodded as I punched their orders on my POS. "Would you like some pastries to go with that?"

"No, that's all."

"Got it, you can wait over there to the side. I'll have your drinks with you shortly," I said with a smile. The girl pulled the boy over into the receiving area to continue their conversation. 

"So what I'm saying is, we gotta go. Tonight is going to be epic. The bets will be high for sure. We can get some mean cash if we put it in the right car." 

The other gave a soft snort and started drumming his fingers against the wood of the counter. I let their conversation act as white noise while I worked behind the bar.

"I don't know. You're not even sure who is going to be there." 

"Jeno is in the line-up. That at least is confirmed."

I dropped the metal scooper I was using on the floor with a resounding clang. 

The three others in the room looked over to me as I hurriedly picked it up with shaking hands. I gave all parties a sheepish look before turning on my back to continue what I was doing. 

This time, I was full-on listening. 

"If Jeno's going to be there, then it is a goner. There's no chance for others. It'll be full-on suicide," the boy said thoughtfully. The girl, however, shrugged in reply. 

"They said the others might come, too. You know, to make the run a little bit more balanced," she offered. 

"You mean the seven?"

"The Four, at least."

"Oh shit."

"Uh-huh. So I'm telling you, we gotta be there man. If we can't bet then fine, but we have to see it. It’s been ages since they actually went on lane." 

I didn't really know how I managed to finish what I was doing, not with how hard my heart was beating in my chest. I'm not sure how many Jeno's there are in this part of town, but I am sure as hell that there is only one who is a member of a seven-piece 'group.' 

"Here's your order," I said thinly as I pushed the finished drinks over to them by the counter. The boy offered his card and I took it quickly, all the while thinking of what I should do next. The few seconds of me typing away at the terminal was the longest quarter minute of my life.

"Here's your receipt. Thank you for coming and see us again," I said, my voice a little weaker than usual. The couple gave a quick bow before turning to leave, drinks in hand. 

There are two ways this could go. I could let them out of that door and have my only possible chance of getting in contact with any of the boys leave with them. Or I could call after them and…

I whipped around to call out to my boss, my figure already halfway out from the bar. 

"Ahjussi, I'll be back in five minutes, sorry. I promise I'll be quick!"

He had barely looked up when I started running out the door.

-----

"Excuse me!" 

The duo looked back at me, then at each other in confusion as I tried my best to hurry up to them without landing on my face. God, why do they walk so fast? They were just a few seconds ahead when they left the shop! Thankfully, they stopped at my call, giving me a chance to skid before them as I tried to catch my breath.

"Um… Is there a problem? We paid, right?" The boy asked me with an odd look. I waved my hand before finally trying to answer. 

"Yes. I uh—"

Well, I obviously didn't plan this out clearly. How do I say this now without sounding like a lunatic? 

"I heard your conversation earlier. You were talking about Jeno."

The pair exchanged glances again, this time tinged with suspicion. It was the girl who answered this time. 

"Yes, we were. What about it?" 

"I… I just want—to maybe know where he is? You were talking about tonight's—"

"The drag race?"

I stopped for half a heartbeat before nodding. 

"Yeah. The race. I wanted to come, too, but I don't really know the address." 

The boy cocked his brow at me in blatant suspicion. It took all of me to pull out all the basics I learned from drama class back in high school to remain calm before his withering glare. 

"You know Jeno but don't know the address? That doesn't make any sense," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "If you've been in one before you should have been included in the text blast."

Oh shit. 

I could feel my palms growing cold from nervousness. Still, I tried pushing on. 

"W-well, I was invited before by one of them. But then things fell apart and I started not getting any of the...texts anymore," I said, not having the slightest idea of what I am saying myself. What's ironic though was that what I just blurted out was sort of a half-truth, too.

Apparently—and miraculously—it also made sense by the look of understanding that dawned on their faces. 

"I see…" the girl trailed off. She cleared her throat and looked at her friend before glancing at me again. 

"Look, I can give you the address, but promise me that you never got it from me when someone asks, okay?" She asked. The boy looked at her incredulously.

"Are you crazy? She was already shadow banned!"

She shushed him and waved her hand off to shut him up. "Look, this is a girl thing. Don't mess with it. Just go ahead to the car, I'll take care of it." 

He scoffed but stalked off towards the direction of the parking lot. 

She turned towards me again and pulled her phone from the pocket of her leather jacket. I watched as she unlocked the screen before showing it to me. 

"Do you have your phone with ya? Here, take a photo of this address." 

I swear I could almost kiss her. I scrambled to get my phone from my back pocket and didn't waste another second to take a snap of her screen.

"Thank you so much." 

She nodded in understanding before locking her phone again and shoving it into her pocket. "Hey, a girl's gotta stand up for another. Who was it? Was it Haechan?" 

"Um…" 

She didn't wait for me to finish. 

"Really, whoever it is among them, I can't really blame you. They're all cute, but they do need to be taken down a notch when it comes to girls. Those boys," she tsked. "Dangerous." 

Oh…

Oh. She thought I was an ex-fling who wanted to teach one of them a lesson by crashing the race. I let that sink in before a frown settled on my features. 

Well, aren't you one? The devil on my shoulder cackled at me sardonically. 

"Glad to have helped though. But remember, you didn't get it from me, okay?"

With a wink, she strutted off, leaving me staring at her retreating form. 

----

I told myself I simply wanted to see him again. 

I reminded myself that for the hundredth time tonight as I parked my car on a free space by a gravel road, my eyes roaming the darkness beyond. The place looked deserted, and I had to do one last check if I really put in the right coordinates on my map before finally turning off my engine. The road beyond was wide but uncemented and to its left is a half unfinished building with metal banisters reaching out to the sky like skeletal arms. I swallowed. Every little thing about the space beyond screams danger.

Which probably means I am in the right place. 

I reached out to zip up my jacket and pulled the hoodie over my head before getting out of my car. My sneakers crunched on the gravel as I made my way towards a low wall circling the building beyond. 

Just try and take a look. You don't have to talk to him. You can keep your distance. 

I repeated that in my head again and again as I approached what I assume to be the entrance. A part of me still wants to berate myself for doing this but I am too far gone to try and play the denial game again. I want, no, I need to see Jaemin's world.

The moment I passed through a crack on the wall, it felt like I stepped into a different world. It opened up into an even wider area, the shadows of a multi-lane road behind the abandoned building beyond. Milling around is a throng of people, some smoking, others sipping on red cups on their hands. Some cars were parked against the wall I just passed, their headlights on with music booming out of their rolled down windows. 

I tried to swallow the lump on my throat as I looked around. Already, I felt out of place in the crowd, but I steeled myself to push on, my hands digging deeper into the pockets of my jacket.

"Hey." 

I looked up to see a boy around my age wave at me. He was also holding a red cup and what looked like a bundle of paper. My eyes widened as that came into focus when he got closer. 

Money. 

Wads and wads of cash. 

"You put your bets already?" He asked as he stuffed the bills into a small belt bag hidden beneath his oversized shirt. He pulled his phone out then, unlocked the screen, and looked at me, waiting for an answer. 

"Uh…" 

He gave me an odd look.

"Who are you betting on?" He asked again. 

I gave the first name I could only think of. 

"Ja-Jaemin," I stuttered.

That earned me a low whistle from him as he typed away at his phone, probably to record my choice of 'player.' "I don't know, man. Dude seems pretty out of it lately, but whatever floats your boat." He stuck out his hand to me then, and it took me a few seconds to realize what he was asking for. 

"Oh," I scrambled to grab my purse. I was in the middle of pulling my card from my wallet when I saw his face. Slowly, I put it back to reach out for bills instead. 

"Cash only." 

I sheepishly handed him the last few hundreds I have. He took them, expertly flipping through each bill to count them off. 

"First time, eh?" 

I nodded. 

I watched as he slipped the money into his already overflowing belt bag, thinking that he would leave after that. Instead he nudged his head towards the direction of the building and motioned me along. 

"Come on then. At least try and get a good look at your first race." 

I blinked in confusion but ran after him as he started walking away. 

We stopped at the front row of the half ring of people that had already gathered in front of the abandoned rafters. Just then, a huge spotlight shone over the road behind it, driving everyone to erupt in cheers. Parked in a single line at the foot of the road are five cars, headlights opening one by one.

"Jaemin's the yellow one," the boy nodded towards the one occupying the third lane. I stared. I know next to nothing about cars, but I know enough to be sure that none of the ones in front of me now are something you can buy from your run-of-the-mill auto dealer. Lowered, with shining reams, and a low motor hum that reverberated to where I was standing, I could only briefly compute in my head how much each of those customized rides must have cost. 

I heard the boy beside me snort amusedly. "Your first race and you get to see this. I'm telling you, this happens once in a blue moon," he said with a smirk. I didn't say anything, my gaze never leaving the yellow car. 

Slowly though, I noticed the crowd's noise die down dramatically the same time that a petite form walked out from the building. The woman stopped in the middle of the road and raised her hand into the night sky, a small pistol in her grasp.

Everyone has gone so quiet now that you could almost hear a needle dropping. Just then, the resounding bang of a gunshot pierced the air. Few other large spotlights turned on simultaneously, revealing the snaking road ahead that was disguised under the darkness earlier. I gasped. The roaring sound of engines blared beyond and with a new uproar from the crowd, the cars were speeding ahead, leaving trails of light in their wake. 

My heart was beating so hard against my chest as I tried my best to follow the speeding cars ahead. I was only able to comprehend the real expanse of the road the moment each ride took over its lanes—the place looked more like an abandoned air dock field more than anything else. I was barely aware of my nails digging on the palms of my hands as my eyes switched from Jaemin’s car and the others, particularly on the deep red one that he was currently toe in toe with. The space between the two were a hair’s breadth away and I could almost swear their sides would collide any second. 

That went on until a curve on the road appeared. It was the last turn before the finish line and the crowd turned wilder as the nose of each car tried its best to take the lead. I didn’t even realize that I was holding my breath until the last second when the yellow one took over the inner space of the road before swerving successfully ahead.

Everyone around me erupted in cheers. I gave my own gasp, hands covering my lips before joining the rest.

Jaemin’s yellow lambo parked on the finish line, the rest of the race participants trailing behind. I watched as his door opened, revealing his beautiful wide grin and tousled hair. He was glowing, cheeks flushed from the adrenaline. I was so caught up in the image that I barely noticed Jeno appearing from the red car, followed by Renjun, Mark, and Haechan from the other rides. 

I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I watched with a smile as they huddled over Jaemin, playfully pushing and cajoling him for his win. They looked happy, carefree.

But it seems like they aren’t the only ones who were out there in the road. My gaze moved back to Jaemin's car when I saw his passenger seat open. As if in slow motion, a girl got out of it, wearing the same wide smile the others have. The group hooted at her as she joined their huddle. 

That’s when I felt as if time has stopped.  

The smile on my face slowly faded as I watched Jaemin wrap his arms around her before pulling her into a tight hug. 

---

A/N: Hey guys! This is going to be the second to the last chapter of Jaemin’s side story! I originally wanted to finish it in one go, but I thought it would be nice to release the epilogue on Nana’s birthday! So yes, that’ll be out on the 13th, lol. Thank you so much to those who have continued reading this side fic! <3

Chapter 5 (END)

Taglist: @negincho​, @springdaybreaks​, 

#nct dream #nct dream mafia #nct dream mafia au #nct jaemin #jaemin x reader #lee jeno #huang renjun #mark lee #lee haechan #zhong chenle #park jisung #nct angst #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct au #nct mark #nct renjun #nct jeno #nct haechan #nct chenle #nct jisung #nct-writers #nct mafia #nct mafia au

[nintickleswitch]

Yet Another Twist

A Magnus Archives tickle fic. Michael Distortion/Reader (gender neutral), typical Spiral mindfuckery, chasing, praise, CNC-ish (reader denies that they're into it until the very end). Inspired by the fact that there are no TMA avatar tickle fics aside from JonMartin fluff and boy do I want a giggly Spiral monster to wreck me!

A nuisance. Not how one would typically describe a spectre haunting their every step, always waiting around the corner to seize them and pull them into its nightmare dimension, but that's what Michael had become to you. His campaign of terror had started off well enough, at first a gradual flickering in the corner of your eye, tiny things to make you doubt whether your eyes were telling the truth. Then, as soon as your paranoia had ripened for harvesting, the door had appeared in your home.

There was nothing unusual about it. A perfectly plain, yellow door with paint peeling slightly from use. Except for the fact that... it wasn't there. It had never been there, and certainly had no cause to exist when it should have lead to a significant drop outside. Curiosity had killed the cat, but hadn't satisfaction brought it back? At least, that's what you thought when your hand began to turn the knob, a dire sensation tugging at you to stop, turn around and run from there until your thighs were aching and lungs were burning before anything happened to you. And then, he happened to you.

The creature that called itself Michael was the rippling, distorted shape that stalked the halls of that place lit only by stale, tinny yellow lights, where the ever changing wallpaper made you dizzy and the mirrors reflected that which scared you the most. It had preyed on your fear for the longest of times, leading you on endless chases through that evil maze of its until you found a mirror to smash, a door to fling yourself through to blessed freedom. You couldn't say when it dawned on you that it never truly intended to catch you, simply deceive you into thinking it was always getting closer and drinking in your panic like it was nectar. When you finally turned your back on it out of sheer spite, eyes ringed with dark circles from the sleepless nights he'd caused - that was when he became a pest.

Not that the frisson that traveled from your scalp through your spine disappeared when he actually spoke to you instead of simply laughing at your suffering, the words floating and dreamy through a haze of static, but you were capable of contending with him. The chases continued to be a part of your daily life, and you'd almost come to welcome them as somewhat of a break from the dullness of your work. Almost. What actually surprised you was the degree of interest it seemed to be taking in you. While he'd made it clear that there was no guarantee of your safety should you choose to repeat that little stunt, the display of bravery had surprised him. Clearly, it would take more creative methods to get you to crack. So began your twisted little relationship, punctuated by chats conversed entirely in riddles, the occasional drop in at work where you'd scramble to hide his intrusion and he'd simply laugh at your efforts, and of course, the thrill of the hunt.

It had been an overcast afternoon, where time flowed like molasses, thick and viscous. The tea in your cup had been swirling there for hours, hot steam curling in the air, rising in spite of the fact that it should have gone cold a long time ago. Why had you only now just noticed that fact? Your eyes darted to the couch across the room, and of course, there he was.

"Michael," you groaned in the voice of someone far too tired to deal with his petty shenanigans. "How long have you been sitting there already?"

High, clear laughter flowed easily from him, though you weren't even sure if he was moving his lips. It seemed to reverberate slightly, as if one track was layered atop the other, producing an unnerving effect.

"It can't have been that long, your coffee is still hot," it replied with a wry smile.

You looked down at your cup. Coffee... No, it was tea, and it must have been cold, not hot... Was it?

"Cut it out, Michael," you rolled your eyes at him, pushing away the illusory cup. "What do you want from me anyways?"

"You looked awfully glum today. I thought you could have used some cheering up."

His grin was ear to ear, never leaving him.

"If that's what you're after, let's start with stopping... Whatever you're doing right now, I don't like it."

The light headed feeling you didn't even realize was present had faded, and the cup was full of sad, cold tea once again. You almost felt worse for it, like he really had been trying to perk you up. A sigh left you.

"If you're looking to mess with me, I don't think you're going to get far."

"And why is that, I wonder," he spoke with a little less of that derisive edge, its grin softening into a closed smile - although it still stretched across his face. Since when did he care about how you felt? You gave it a vague shrug, not particularly interested in explaining the details of your mood, especially reluctant to admit that, well, you had been feeling lonely as of late. But you had no intentions to give him any more ground than he'd swept out from under your feet already.

"Tragic," it replied, putting sharp emphasis on the last syllable. Michael rose elegantly from the opposing couch, as if to take his leave. And he did appear to consider it, passing through the very same impossible door he entered through, the shade of yellow which you could never quite pinpoint... Until you heard the familiar creak of it behind you.

Quicker than a flash, its fingers curled around your chin, sharp and threatening despite the Cheshire grin that you could feel in your very bones. You dared not move, in spite of the shot of white hot panic passing through you. His lips brushed against your ear, at which you noticeably shuddered, producing another wave of dizzying laughter.

"I thought you might have appreciated my company~"

At this, he ran a long digit over the outer curvature of your ear, nails sharpened to inhuman proportions. To your utter horror, you were incapable of containing the burst of giggling the teasing provoked. It was something you tried to keep long out of reach of your conscious mind, a fact of your existence that had not been exploited for years and filled you with dread at the thought of Michael discovering: You were intractably, agonizingly ticklish. Immediately you tried to conceal the fright that flashed across your expression, but it was far too late. The air thickened, swirling around you, and you started to feel dizzy and light headed as your heart began to race. How much of this was Michael's doing, or simply your own anxiety at this discovery, was entirely your guess.

"Oh? What's this?"

His words buzzed around in your head, almost frenzied with excitement at all of the possibilities of what he could do to you. The blood drained from your face. There was no way you were giving him that satisfaction. Before it could tighten its grip around you, you broke away from the couch, racing towards the first exit you could find. Michael's laughter turned uproarious, keeping pace with you, hot on your heels. Fueled by instinct alone, you flung open the door to your apartment and tore through it, slamming it shut behind you as soon as you'd made it through. In the absence of rational thought, you'd forgotten that it had never been painted a sickly yellow.

Realizing your mistake, you whipped around to the door behind you, pounding on it, begging to be let out. You hadn't begged since the very beginning, but now you knew there was a dire consequence to being caught.

"Mercy?"

A high pitched voice came from just behind you, its hair draping over your shoulders. You froze.

"By now I thought you'd know better than to expect mercy from me~"

Your heart almost leapt from your throat as you pushed past it, the swipe of its claw missing you by centimeters. Running was pointless within its domain - well, not entirely. It made the meal of your fear just that much sweeter, but still you ran through the endless hallways with their swirling wallpaper, always changing colors, curving impossibly inwards. Giving him exactly what he wanted. Before long you felt your muscles begin to ache, faltering noticeably. The predator would inevitably outrun its prey... But it didn't have to. For in the far, far distance of the corridor you'd just ducked into was a shimmering mirage of what you could hardly call a person. Your fear was only compounded by the knowledge that if you looked back, the turn you took would be gone. All you could do was inch back, not daring to tear your eyes off the figure in the distance. Not realizing that it too was inching backwards, slowly, painfully twisting in the funhouse mirror, until it and you collided with your pursuer.

Letting out a surprised scream, you lurched forward, but only succeeded in falling to the floor, fingers sinking into the thick rug which curled and tightened around them, trapping you. The air buzzed and crackled, his soft curls spilling over your back as his triumphant laughter filled the space between you.

"It's not fair!"

You cried out to no avail, the anger in your voice noticeably cracking with your anticipatory smile.

"I would never be so cruel as to be fair to you," he replied, wiggling his fingers just barely over your skin. You couldn't see it happening, but the warm tingling in your nerves it produced made you fight even more desperately to keep composure.

"P-please, why are you doing this to me?!"

At this frantic question, it seemed to pause. Then, his form curled over yours, tracing your earlobe with his long tongue and sharp teeth, leaving faint imprints in the cartilage. At the same time, you could feel giant, raking claws drawing up the hem of your shirt from your hipbones to your ribs. And still you were pinned, with nowhere to go but down, down, down, hiding your burning blush and poorly concealed giggles in the softness of the carpet.

"I missed your laughter."

Came his reply, drunken on how soft and pliant, how sensitive you were. 

"Well, I'm - I'm not going to give you any more of it!"

A defiant lie that the throat of delusion incarnate himself would have been proud of, had he not taken it as a challenge.

"Is that so..."

You suddenly became painfully aware of your bare midriff, its fingers inching closer towards your skin with each passing moment. Eyes widening, you did your utmost to writhe away from them, but the attempt made it all the more obvious how stuck you were, only able to watch as he... Struck in the blink of an eye, causing a loud squeal to erupt from you, skittering his nails across your tummy with careless abandon.

"Then what's this sweet melody," it teased, ignoring your cries of his name in the midst of shocked and horrified laughter. Incapable of replying, you twisted from side to side to escape if only for a second. Never had you remembered being this sensitive, feeling this vulnerable. He knew exactly how to get to you, a fact which you were reluctant to admit. Even as he tortured you, he drew gentle, swirling patterns on your soft skin, which seemed to make the ticklish sensation of applying them last even longer. No matter how much you smothered your face in the rug, your laughter rang loud and clear throughout the halls, which seemed to shiver in pleasure at your torment.

"It's - ahahahahahaha - fuhuhuck you!"

"Oh, you'd like to, wouldn't you," he smirked, idly drawing an inward spiral around your navel as if you weren't screaming already. "But I'm afraid you're not in the position for that."

"Shuhuhut up!"

"Besides, you seem to be enjoying yourself as you are right now," its other hand traced outwards, grazing your lower ribs, which made you buck away, and that sweet spot between your hip bones and your stomach. You violently wrenched from him this time, which did not go unnoticed by the now cackling Distortion, who seemed to have discovered a spot he was all too fond of.

"Of - of course not!"

Why did that sound so unconvincing, when every twitching nerve in your body agreed that you couldn't stand one more second of this?

"I don't believe you..."

He spoke in that light, sing-song voice of his, before he closed his grip over your hips and you shrieked as all ten claws, although it felt like so many more, dug in. Prodding, pinching, squeezing, anything that would let your laughter pour from you like the sweetest wine. You tried your utmost to cry out, to appeal to some non-existent sense of humanity for him to stop, but in that moment your mind couldn't even remember what words were. And some small, hidden corner of your mind that you refused to admit was present thanked your lucky stars for that.

"You've always been a terrible liar."

Much to your horror, you found that even one hand was enough to cover the frame of your hips, and the other was now free to busy itself on spidering the backs of your thighs, occasionally sampling the tender inner part. The mock pity in its tone electrified your skin, and with two of your absolute worst spots being tickled out of your wits, all you could do was scream and thrash at your inescapable fate.

"You're a teheheror, Michael!"

You finally cried out after what felt like centuries, moments before he did the last thing you would have expected - he stopped. As your chest heaved and sweat trickled down your forehead, attempting to regain what composure you had left, he leaned his elbows on your back, hands folded together in a languid pose.

"That's the point, dear."

The grin on his face had clearly grown wider.

"What did you call-"

Your angered sentence broke off near the end when you felt those sharp, heavy points settle down to rest on your ribcage. A string of repeated no's tumbled from your lips before it became a cacophony of giggling at their gradual, yet deliberate movement.

"I called you dear. Or would you have preferred darling - "

He gently plucked at your lower ribs like guitar strings, sending you into a fit of helpless, silent laughter.

"Sweetheart-"

You gasped for air, pinprick tears in the corners of your eyes. Nothing had ever tickled you so much in your life, and you were never more desperate to escape as the creature that tormented you began cooing terms of endearment into your ear, sickly sweet like syrup. It only heightened the adrenaline rush you were experiencing, fighting to squirm out of his grasp like it was for your very survival.

"- perhaps pet would be more to your liking?"

A particularly loud howl broke your silence at the impossible sensation of him both kneading and lightly scratching over your ribs, both in front and behind. Every patch of new ground he covered was worse than the last, especially when he targeted multiple spots at once, two inhumanly long nails raking across the soft hollows of your underarms, down towards your ribs, then back up your inner arms.

"You seem positively enamored with that one, my sweet little pet," it threw its head back, the sound of his laughter tasting like pop rocks in your mouth. You could handle him being actively terrifying, but the saccharine praise on top of the excruciatingly witty tickling threw your head into a tailspin you weren't falling out of any time soon. Merely being in his presence was disorienting enough, but the prolonged torture had pushed your mind to a space you didn't even know existed. Perhaps it occupied some liminal space between the real and the unreal, where agony poured over into ecstasy. A low, flustered whine of resignation rose in your throat at his teasing, between hiccuping laughter and half-sobs. This was it, you were completely and utterly broken. Or so you'd thought before he paused to brush away a tear, leaving a lightly stinging mark on your cheek where the razor sharp talon had made contact. 

"Come now," it spoke softly, accompanied by a loud cracking sound. You looked up from the refuge of the warm, comfortable carpet, and there was his face, hanging inches from yours. No matter how many times you'd been chased by that thing down the warm, dark hallways, you were never prepared to see the Distortion's true appearance. Its features approximated a nose, eyes, and lips, but they were simply dancing lines that never connected in any way that your fragile mind could make sense of, and its curls shone in the light like an oil slick in rainwater. In a burst of energy that constituted primarily of panic, you yelped, attempting to leap back. Still you were firmly stuck, incapable of moving under the form which draped over you in a position that was... more than compromising. There was no willing down the heat rising in your cheeks.

"I assure you," it purred. "Our fun isn't over yet."

Before you could ask what he had meant, you felt yourself plunging headfirst into the answer. Suddenly it seemed to surround you all at once, leaving no inch of your body unmarked - fingers spreading your toes, lovingly raking over your bare soles, up your calves and the backs of your knees, squeezing your thighs, kneading at your sides, far, far too many hands and fingers than he had, than you knew he had. What filled the gaps he could not reach writhed softly against your skin, gentle yet merciless in its titillation, playing against the nape of your neck, the tenderness of your palms. All the while, time and space twisted themselves into shapes that you could not imagine, a torturous century squeezed into what may have been a brief instant of tangled limbs and broken smiles. And you laughed. You laughed, and laughed until there was not an ounce of anything but laughter filling your body. The squirming fractal mass had drowned out all rational thought, dragging you deeper and deeper into itself until by the very end of it, when he'd finally let you surface for air, the only question you could repeat as you lay there on your back was why. Why had you ever opened that door, why did he insist on tormenting you so? A million fragments of a million broken, senseless questions ran through your brain, but not more than one syllable of them could have been formed by your tongue past the frenzy of that horrible tickling.

"Aren't you a curious one, love," he laughed, now filled with a cruelty that chilled you to the bone, his speech barely comprehensible as human. "I suppose I owe you one honest answer. It's very simple. Your fear is intoxicating."

He paused, letting the dawning horror of your situation sink in.

"You really have no idea how long you've been here, do you? It could have been minutes or hours or weeks... But you don't know, because it's been an eternity to you and you're terrified this will be all that remains."

"No... No, no, no, please, I'm begging you-!"

"No?"

It asked with mocking incredulity.

"Your screams could feed me for decades, after all, I see no reason why I shouldn't keep you here for the rest of your existence."

A shot of genuine, primal dread pulsed through you. Paradoxically, but undeniably, somehow that notion excited you.

"What do you think," he traced under your chin with a light touch. "You could give up your tedious little life to be my tickle pet."

"I-"

The gentle proposition had caught you completely off guard. For how terrifying he was, his ability to fluster you on a dime was far worse than anything else he was capable of doing to you. Slowly you shook your head, unable to help the small whine you let slip as you buried your face in your hands.

"Such a shame... I think you would have enjoyed it."

"I don't... I don't know what you're talking about..."

"Oh, but I think you do," he replaced his hands at your sides, the playful lilt in his tone evident. You felt your lips cracking into a smile, but kept your face covered, refusing to let him see the truth of your expression.

"I think you like having your mind played with, twisted into paths impossible to trace."

Its claws began to move again, swiftly eliciting a steady stream of giggles from you, hips shaking from side to side.

"It's just as much of a game for you as it is for myself, isn't it," he leaned in, his tongue flicking at your ear, honey-sweet words pouring from his lips. "The adrenaline, the chase. The thrill of twirling into the arms of madness itself."

By now his fingers spidered relentlessly across your torso, and still you refused to give in, even though you were sure you couldn't take one more second of this, thrashing helplessly in his grasp.

"The door opens both ways, my pet, and you let me in~"

"That's- that's not true!"

"Really? Then answer this for me, if you still can: Do you ever remember telling me to stop?"

The grin that split his face was wider than you'd ever seen on him, practically triumphant as your eyes went wide in shock and you tried feebly to pry his hands off you, only succeeding in making them clamp down tighter on you, squeezing your hips until your laughter went silent.

"Oh, no no. I'm afraid it's not going to be that easy. You're going to have to admit something."

"W-Whahahat?!"

"That you're enjoying this, of course."

His assault was unrelenting, and on your very worst spot, you knew you couldn't last much longer. Your attempts to scream, curse and kick at him faded into soft wheezing and limp giggling, tears streaking down your burning cheeks. With your pride having been torn to shreds long, long ago, there was only one way out of this for you.

"Okay, okahahay! You win, Michael..."

You huffed, resigned to your fate.

"And?"

He stared down at you expectantly, fingers still hovering dangerously over your sides in warning. You took a deep breath, praying that admitting this to his face wouldn't make you combust on the spot. 

"I... I like being tickled by you."

As soon as you spoke the words, he let go. Scrambling to a sitting position, you backed yourself up against one of the walls of the corridor, chest heaving with exhaustion. Michael stretched out across from you, smiling like the cat who got the cream. If you didn't know any better, you would have said there was a certain fondness to it.

"There, that wasn't so hard now, was it~?"

Its eyes glittered in the dim, hypnotic light.

"... Shut up," you replied in as gruff a tone as you could manage, before crawling over to him and flopping into his lap, defeated. It chuckled softly, carding its fingers through your hair, twisting it into wild, spiralling shapes, until the line between dreams and reality blurred completely and you found yourself drifting off peacefully in the Distortion's arms.

#tickling #tickle fic #the Magnus Archives #michael distortion #TMA tickles #minors dni