#and I want to give fics benefit of the doubt but maybe I should trust prior experience idk

[britishdisasters]

.

[five-and-dimes]

Had a very angsty thought about Dream that I thought you in particular would enjoy, so here it is:

Maybe this would be a human au, but I think it could work in universe as well.

Dream, because of the fact that he's not great with people, tends to be rather prideful, and is well aware of his own strengths, has been accused of being arrogant his whole life. Mainly by his siblings (Desire, I'm looking at you).

At some point, Dream being desperately tired of being told bad things about him, and desperate to have people around him who love him, decides that he must be the problem and so resolves that he will change himself.

How does he go about this? Well naturally he assumes that because he's been accused of arrogance, he can't trust his own judgement of himself. So whatever he thinks about himself, he believes that the reality of who he is must be worse. Which leads to a vicious cycle of self hatred.

Hob, who had become friends with Dream at some point, and had long since fallen for his friend, somehow finds out about this thought process of Dream's and is absolutely devastated. Which of course leads to Hob doing his absolute best to convince Dream he's not the worst person alive. Dream is very stubborn though, it takes a lot of work, but eventually Hob manages to help Dream see how unfair he is to himself and just how wrong his thought process is

Anyway, but I hope you enjoy this concept I thought of, it seemed like the exact sort of angst and hurt/comfort you enjoy, so I had to share

Bro you know me so Goddamn well.

(Vibing human au just cause I’ve been in human au mode for the fic I’m working on lol)

Cause like. Here’s the thing. Pride in and of itself is not a bad thing. There’s plenty of things Dream has every right to be proud of! But he grows up with parents constantly neglecting him and calling him selfish when he wants their attention/love/support, and siblings who call him arrogant when he speaks highly of himself. His siblings try to tear him down and he fights back by overcompensating, doubling down on his pride until it does in fact tip into arrogance, but he’s just so desperate not to let them make him feel worthless (even if it doesn’t really work). And when Desire or Despair are cruel to him and he fights back the only way he knows how, HE’S the one his older siblings scold and are disappointed in. 

And time passes, and he’s not naturally good with social interactions, and then on top of that you have the trauma of his family life exacerbating the struggle. He starts having romantic relationships that start strong and then nosedive, and suddenly he’s being criticized and beaten down from all sides, no one willing to give him the benefit of the doubt or any compassion when he messes up. So he starts to figure… well, surely if EVERYONE says all these bad things about him they can’t ALL be wrong. Surely he’s the one who’s wrong.

So he enters university with this mindset that he can’t trust his own feelings unless they're negative. He’s not someone who struggles, he’s just a bad person. He’s not talented or successful, he’s just arrogant. 

And that’s who Hob meets. Dream still has a haughty demeanor- a little part of him wants people to see right away what a “bad person” he is so that he can get it over with (plus, deceiving them would just make him a worse person, right?)- but Hob is obsessed with him immediately. Privately, Hob thinks of Dream like a stray cat, hissing and scratching out of fear and distrust, but it takes some time for him to realize just how accurate that assessment is. They become closer, and he starts to notice some things, like how Dream doesn’t tell him about the galleys he gets accepted into, or the stories that gets published, or the tests he aces. When he prods Dream about it, he shrugs it off, saying it doesn’t matter, it’s nothing, he wasn’t going to burden Hob with something so insignificant.

Hob tells Dream he should be proud of himself for his accomplishments and Dream is literally speechless.

No one has ever told Dream he should be proud. His pride was what made him unlovable, right?

Oops, did he say that out loud?

It’s like pulling teeth getting Dream to explain to Hob- How he’s always been wrong before, how he’s never gotten it right, so obviously he can’t trust his own perception of himself. Maybe he was excited, or felt a little spark of joy and pride at his successes, but he knows now that he actually has no reason to be proud of anything ever because he’s just a burden and a bad person. 

Hob is going to cry.

It’s a hard battle getting Dream out of this mindset. Hob kind of just has to go all in, because it’s not like Dream talks openly about his thought process, Hob just happened to notice and drag it out of him. So even if it might seem like Dream is just chilling on the couch watching a show, odds are he’s actually deconstructing every single thing he’s said and done that day and twisting them into proof for why he’s unlovable. But it’s not like it’s a chore for Hob- all he’s really doing is giving Dream the validation and approval that he never got growing up, and showing him a bit of grace when he stumbles. To Hob it's nothing, but to Dream it's everything.

(It’s also very cute to see how red Dream gets when Hob compliments him or shows up to his gallery exhibitions or tapes his A+ essays onto the fridge.)

There’s ups and downs, and there will continue to be ups and downs for a while. But when Hob finally kisses him, Dream thinks to himself… If someone as good as Hob can love him? Then maybe- just maybe- he’s not so bad himself.

[allyricas]

Thinking about an angsty steddie fic based on the great war...

"My knuckles were bruised like violets, sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked. Spineless in my tomb of silence, tore your banners down, took the battle underground. And maybe it was ego swinging, maybe it was her. Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur."

Steddie secret relationship post Star Court. It starts when Steve goes to Eddie for weed to help with his migraines. They get to know each other and Steve falls hard. Eddie is into Steve too, but refuses to give him any benefit of the doubt, still thinking of him as King Steve.

Eddie wants to open up but struggles to trust him. He's waiting for things to go bad. So he tries to not fall in love. He fails miserably at this.

"You said I have to trust more freely but diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire and maybe it's the past that's talkin' screamin' from the crypt. Tellin' me to punish you for things you never did. So I justified it..."

The upside down would fuck everything up. Eddie assumes the worst and pulls away. He takes Steve hiding things as proof he was right to be cautious. And then everything goes from bad to worse when he watches Nancy make eyes at Steve. She is patching him up and it's inevitable that he'll choose her.

Every doubt, every insecurity feels justified as he watches the boy he swore he wouldn't love run back to Nancy's arms. He knew this would end badly, he didn't think it'd involve an alternative hell dimension and being accused of murder only for the townfolk to start an actual witch hunt.

Losing Steve should be miniscule compared to everything going on, but it hurts worse than all of it combined.

"It turned into something bigger somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed."

The final blow is hearing his boyfriend tell Nancy about his dream to have a brood of Harringtons. To have the white picket heterosexual dream that he can never give him. So, he ices Steve out. When he later hears Steve tell Nancy that she's there, he walks away before Steve can finish.

Yeah, Nancy is there and Robin and the kids. But most importantly so is Eddie. He tells her that she's family, that he already has his family. He wants them to be close without the past hanging over them. And that he is in love with Eddie.

Eddie and Dustin are still the distraction. Steve and Eddie have their awkward little goodbye. Except in this universe, Steve turns back around and kisses Eddie. Tells him to be safe, that he loves him.

Eddie is pissed and confused but he nods. Doesn't respond which breaks Steve's heart. They all barely make it out, Eddie dies several times only surviving because of Steve and Nancy performing CPR and dragging him out of the Upside Down.

Of course, Steve won't leave his side. And when Eddie finally wakes up, Steve just bursts into tears because he almost lost him. Steve is sobbing, saying how much he loves him and Eddie is so confused.

"Looked up at me with honor and truth, broken and blue, so I called off the troops. That was the night I nearly lost you."

He finally just asks Steve about what he overheard. Steve tells him the rest of it and Eddie is now crying too.

Uncle Wayne and the not-so-dead Chief Hopper walk in on them curled up in Eddie's hospital bed. They are kissing, but carefully and they are both still crying but they're together. They made it through and things are going to only get better.

"Always remember, Uh-huh, we're burned for better. I vowed I would always be yours 'cause we survived the Great War."

[naavispider]

I need to know Quaritch's perspective when he found out that Spider decided to maintain the restraining order 🥲

If anyone is interested or missed it, I uploaded the epilogue of my modern au fic The Cat's in the Cradle. It ends with Quaritch essentially betraying Spider, due to his plan to kidnap him if the legal system didn't work out. Check it out of you want 👉🏻👈🏻

Quaritch was sitting at the kitchen table of the small but adequate apartment he was renting, his leg bouncing nervously under the table as he waited for the phonecall. Lyle had left him that morning, to get back to Deja Blu business, and so Quaritch had been forced to sit with nothing but his own spiralling thoughts for company.

It all rested on Spider's shoulders. Quaritch probably didn't deserve the benefit of the doubt, but he couldn't shake the nasty feeling that Spider felt better off without him. Whatever he said to the judge, both their futures depended on it.

The buzz of the phone on the table startled Quaritch, immediately sending his pulse sky rocketing and his breathing hitched. By the time the phone was to his ear, he already had sweaty palms. "Karmichael."

"Afternoon Mr Quaritch." The pause before his lawyer spoke again lasted an entire lifetime. Quaritch wanted to throttle the man. "I'm afraid it's not good news." His heart dropped in his chest. "Spider has decided to remain with the foster placement and wants to uphold the restraining order."

...wants to uphold the restraining order...

Quaritch sagged back in his chair, his eyes fixed on a singular point across the kitchen floor. He replayed the words to make sure he understood them correctly. There was just no way...

Spider had been receptive to everything Quaritch said. He'd seemed like he was starting to build a genuine relationship. For Christ's sake, Spider had called him when he needed his problems fixing... Quaritch knew that Spider had trusted him.

But the anger subsided when Quaritch reminded himself of what he'd done to Spider since then. Even though it was all for the kid, he knew he'd hurt him. And now it appeared that hurt was inconsolable. Self hatred flashed across his skin as he realised how badly he'd managed to mess this up. He needed it not to be true. He couldn't do this if it was.

"I'm sorry it's not what we wanted," Karmichael said. His words were thin and stretched, as if travelling over a huge distance down the phone. Maybe Quaritch's mind was just going so quickly he couldn't pay him any attention.

"What now?" he shook himself, preparing to fight once more. He'd get his boy back. Eventually. Somehow. He had to.

"Now?" Karmichael's voice sounded surprised.

"Yes."

"Er... we could contest the restraining order, but that's never going to be successful. Honestly, Mr Quaritch, it would be a waste of time trying."

"Great, anything else?"

"...Mr Quaritch, this is the final verdict from the judge-"

"I'm well aware of that fact thank you!" he snapped. Rage was starting to bubble up underneath his skin. Rage that this poncy lawyer seemed to believe this was the end of the matter. He was supposed to be decent. "I am asking you: what do we do now? My son should be back with me. We need a plan for when he changes his mind."

Silence on the other end of the line.

"Let me think about it, sir. I'm happy to give you a call back once I know more."

Great. Quaritch closed his eyes, pursing his lips as he gripped the phone tighter in his fist. He took a deep breath, trying to get a grip on himself. He'd clearly scared the man off. "Fine. I'll talk to you then."

He hung up and placed the phone calmly back down on the table. The world was quiet. He stared at it for a moment.

Then he stood up and seized the device in his fist, and launched it across the room with as much force as he was capable of. It shattered when it hit the wall, fragments of the screen littering the floor.

Quaritch sat back down. His hands were shaking, so he rested his head between them, trying to take steady breaths.

Spider was gone. Again.

Only this time, it was the boy's own choice.

Quaritch didn't cry. He had that beat out of him a long time ago. But shame filled his heart when he couldn't stop the raggedy breaths and sudden lump forming in his throat. He was glad Lyle had left. He hadn't broken down like this in all the years since he first got sent down. He'd survived all of it. And he'd survived it for Spider. The one person who could fix everything. And his son had turned his back on him.

The first tear found its way down to the floor, solidifying Quaritch's failure. After that he let them fall. He was alone.

[lemongingerart]

Chapter 3 - Taris (II)

Fic summary: The second arc of my Armitage Hux x OC fanfic, “chocolate cookies and tarine tea”, in which both need to deal with the mess they got into (and with each other, eh eh eh). Involves cookies that won't be eaten and tea that will get spilled. Same goes for certain feelings... they are going to be hungry ant thirsty 😏

You can find the link to AO3 and other chapters on Tumblr in the pinned message on my dash, both for the first and second arc 😊

Rating: Explicit. This is going to be very NSFW. So, Minors, do NOT read or interact. 18+. Family, friends and colleagues, please don’t read this. :’-)

Tags & warnings: TRoS fix-it (kind of), Hux!lives, Hux doesn’t like Kylo, Not a Redemption Arc, maybe a little bit, shameless fem!OC insert (there are cliches but entertaining ones imo), slow emotional burn, medium sexual burn, Enemies to Enemies With Benefits to Lovers, Hux is still a villain don't forget, Virgin Characters, masturbation against the door, pinv, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Awkward Sexual Situations, Past Child Abuse, dubious first kiss, Dom/sub Undertones, Mental Breakdown, Unprotected Sex, wet Hux, that deserves a tag/warning on its own, Minor Character Death

I will add tags as we proceed in the story, please let me know if I forgot one!

Taglist: @mylifeisactuallyamess, @morby and anyone who’d like to join 🥰

A/N:    I realized that both Taris chapters are short... too short to read on their own.That's why I decided to review and publish the second part, so at least we get some general ginger 😊

"I need you, remember?”.

Did I really say that out loud? 

Armitage shivered from disdain, hating himself for sounding so desperate. He wasn’t, and by any means this was not the signal he wanted to give the headstrong girl. Who knows what that overexcited mind of hers was thinking now. If she even begins to think she has power over me and tries to stab me in the back… 

Only now, he started to realise there was some truth behind these poorly chosen words. He was completely dependent on Miko to make his risky plan succeed. He felt vulnerable, having to place his faith in her hands. He was supposed to be guiding her with his tactics, hopefully coercing her into doing the right thing and making sure the mission ended successfully. But right now, with the connection cut off, she was out there all by herself and he felt lost, the lack of control eating away the last piece of trust he harboured for a positive outcome. Stars, he hadn’t been feeling confident enough with the plan and her possible lack of abilities in the first place, and this was the consequence. A new level of distress, right on top of his other concerns.

It was already about half an hour ago, when the direct line with her earpiece commlink had fallen away. She had signed him that she was just about to enter the designated building by then, so no doubt the place was shielding off all type of communication.

That left Hux without any means to know what was going on, and he felt empty and way too nervous to his liking. 

Hux started checking the perimeter sensors now, making sure no one was spotting his shuttle with the naked eye. They could mess with clearance codes, but anyone who took visual confirmation of the shuttle would know that they weren't exactly a cargo vessel. Something that should automatically sound the proximity alarm, but you can never be too certain, he sourly thought, aware of how the stress was eating him and making him do irrelevant things.

He sat down in the cockpit’s seat again and brought his hands together, the fingers locking when he rested his forehead on them. He didn’t know what to think, he wasn’t used to just… waiting. How long was she going to take? Every minute that passed made him wonder if things weren't going to work out as planned, or even worse, she was selling him out. Maybe something happened to her, out there in the streets, and he could be waiting here for nothing.

He tried to think about something else, but the only other thing apart from Miko he could focus on, was his anger and spite towards Ren. 

Ren… Resentment was all that he had left. That, and the knowledge that the unguided projectile with a lightsaber and the other officers had always tried to put him aside. That they were out there, wrecking the First Order. But they underestimated him. He would prove that he has what it takes to lead the Order. They will see.

The proximity alarm bleeped, and he only noticed by now that Miko’s location sensor had become active again. He made a mental note that he shouldn’t dwell too much on Ren and the misery he brought to his life and the Order. The self declared lord of the Dark Side shouldn't be plaguing his mind, now or ever, he wasn't worth the attention. 

He swiftly stood up, ready to check on the girl; he was dying to know what happened and if she in fact obtained the coördinates to the Resistance’s base. 

Actually, that feisty girl has proven to be an adequate distraction from these dark thoughts, he realised once again while watching the sensors bleep and pressing the command to lower the ramp. Seems like he should appreciate her company after all. If only not to overthink his sightless situation and drown in his depressing theories. 

Miko was coming into view of the cockpit’s transparisteel viewport, and Hux paused his movement. 

What is she up to now?  He wondered, started seething, when looking at the small cargo container floating behind her.

[valxrsp]

I was scrolling through my notes app and found this Monoma x Kirishima fic that I wrote in 2022 😭😭😭

it's kinda slowburn, but that's cause I never bothered finishing it, though if anyone actually does read this and wants more, I'll pick it back up trust

Anyway here's the fic 😝⬇️

It all started during the joint combat training camp. This gave class B a chance to connect more with class A. Although most got along with each other, there was one pair that just couldn't really get along. That poor pair was Kirishima and Monoma. This was a bit of a shock to the others because, well, Kirishima got along with everyone. There was no one Kirishima could hate, he always saw the good in everyone. With Monoma, though, it was difficult for Kirishima to like him. Then again, it's not like Kirishima disliked monoma for no reason. No matter how many times Kirishima tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, Monoma would find a way to annoy him.

Kirishima and 4 other students walked into the classroom where they would be doing their extra lessons.

"Oh, that's weird! Even though class A is supposed to be better, there were 5 people who failed? Even though there was only 1 person from class B? That's so weird!" Monoma smirked as he sat in one of the desks.

"You failed too, idiot!" Kaminari snapped back.

"He tried to get under our skin the same way yesterday." Kirishima said as he rolled his eyes and sat down in his seat.

Monoma looked over at Kirishima and chuckled.

Monomas pov:

Eijirou Kirishima. Ha, yet another class A idiot. Who does he think he is, thinking he can just talk down on me. I don't get why people say he's so kind and friendly when he's quite the opposite with me. Anytime I say something, he just rolls his eyes. Does he know how rude that is? To roll eyes at a future pro, I mean that's just disgraceful.

I don't get why he has such an attitude towards me. Does he hate me? Or maybe he just doesn't like me as much. Or I just catch him on his bad days? He can't possibly hate me over some small remarks... Right? Should I maybe take it down a notch? Try not being as harsh?

Wait a second- what am I even saying?..

Why am I just now thinking so hard about this? Some irrelevant class A student shouldn't be on my mind this much. But I can't help but wonder what he actually thinks of me.

Third person pov:

"Monoma! Stop day dreaming, this is serious!", Kirishima yelled as he shook Monoma.

"Wha-" Monoma froze as he saw Kirishimas hands on his shoulders and their faces only inches away from each other. They held eye contact for what felt like forever to Monoma. He was mesmerized by Kirishimas crimson eyes. Did he always have such pretty eyes? Monoma couldn't help but notice the small scar above the red-haired boys right eye. He wondered where that scar could've been from. Making a mental note to ask Kirishima about it some time, Monomas eyes wander down to the boys lips. He didn't know why he did, but he did.

Kirishima let go and turned to Aizawa, who was now explaining about what was going on. There was a slight blush that appeared on Monomas face. He then took his gaze off Kirishima and focused his attention on the new situation that was brought up by Aizawa.

-

-

-

Time skip to the day after the results for the provisional licensings exam were given. Kirishima, Sero, and Denki were walking through the halls when they heard Monoma.

"I heard, Class A- Two people! You had two people fail the provisional licensings exam!"

"Class B's Monoma?!" Sero said in shock.

"He's crazy as usual!" Denki responded, sounding startled.

"So, were you the only one to fail again? Like with the final?" Kirishima snickered while walking up to Monoma.

The phrase caused Monoma to remember his odd thoughts he had that day. He laughed nervously as he realized Kirishima was getting closer to him.

Monomas pov:

Why is he walking towards me? Also, I didn't expect him to remember about me from what happened at camp. I would've thought he'd forgotten by now. He's still walking towards me. Quick, I can't let what happened at camp happen again. That feeling, it was so weird. Why did I even feel it? There was no reason for me to blush, but I did. Why? Or maybe at camp I just got red because of the shock from the villains, yeah, that's probably it. He's making eye contact with me. Those stupid, pretty eyes. Why is he looking at me like that? It's almost like he's trying to make me blush. No, no, no, I can feel my face getting hot.

I quickly turn around, my back facing him. I can't let him see me like this. He'd probably laugh in my face if he saw my blush. This time that I have with my back facing him is perfect for me to get rid of this stupid redness.

Think Monoma, think! Class A! Ugh Gross attention seeking idiots!

"... Which is it?!" Kirishima with a confused and worrisome look.

"We..." My blush should be gone by now, my face doesn't feel hot anymore.

"You're just trouble makers! Did you know?", I say turning to look back at him.

"Trouble is something brought out by the immature!"

Third person pov:

Monoma laughed but was quickly shut down by Kendos chop.

-

-

-

Time skip

"Look who we have here! Relaxed and full of yourselves as always. Obviously, you underestimate us." said Monoma as he and class B walked toward class A.

"There you are! We've been looking forward to this!" Kirishima replied back with a smile.

Kirishimas pov:

I gave Monoma a smile. Maybe this will let him know we're cool. I was kinda harsh to him the last couple of times we saw each other. He just gets on my nerves sometimes. I want to be his friend, though. I could help him be better with people. Like how I did with Bakugou! We've hung out a lot, and that's helped him become more open and understanding of classmates. If I can do that with Monoma, that'd be great! Monoma's manly if he just keeps his mouth shut. Anyway, I'm excited to finally train with Class B again. It's always fun to fight with people you aren't used to.

Third person pov:

"Ha! Is that so? I'm not sure why, there's no way you stand a chance against us in this exercise. Come on, class A! Let's see who's best once and for all!" Monoma said menacingly.

Kirishimas' bright smile turned to an irritated frown. He rolled his eyes and looked at Sero with a "can you believe this guy" face. Sero chuckled until he heard Monoma start to go on again.

"Here he goes again," Sero said while nudging Kirishima. The red-haired boy let out an annoyed sigh and looked back at Monoma to see what he was going on about.

"You might wanna take a closer look at this survey! I took it at the festival and it's enlightening! I asked what was better, class A's pathetic attempt at being rockstars, or class B's obviously superior play! Oh! What's this? We won by 2 votes! You guys have been hogging the spotlight since we started school, but you're standing around campus is trash!" Monoma said while hysterically laughing.

"Seriously? Did we somehow blow it at the festival, do you think?" Kirishima said to jiro and sero while looking down at the survey.

"Now, finally! It's class A versus class B! Our first joint combat training! You're fini-" Monoma gets cut off by Aizawas scarf.

-

-

-

Time skip to a few days later. Kirishima and Bakugou were walking out of their classroom. The rest of class A had left to lunch, but they were the last ones to leave.

"So, have you thought about what you'll want for Christmas?" Kirishima asked.

"Why would I ask a bunch extras to give me what I want when I can easily get it myself! I'm not some lazy loser!" Bakugou replied.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. What about any Christmas wishes? My Christmas wish is to become the manliness number 1 hero and be just like Crimson Riot! Even though he wasn't number 1, I will be!" Kirishima said as he bumped his fists and smiled.

"Tch yeah right, like you'd be able to surpass me as number 1!" Bakugou laughed.

Kirishima laughed with him until he noticed something.

"Hey uh, you go on to lunch I'll meet you there"

"What, why?"

"I uh.. I need to go to the bathroom! Yeah ha ha, I better get going!" Kirishima said with an awkward laugh.

"Okay... Weirdo." Bakugou began walking towards the lunch room.

Once Bakugou was out of sight, Kirishima began walking towards the opposite corner.

"Monoma? Is that you?" Kirishima asked as he pushed back the plant that had been covering Monoma.

"Uh- um- Oh what in the world! How did I end up behind this plant! This is so odd!" Monoma said as he got up from his hiding spot.

"Were you... Were you spying on me?"

"What!? No! I wasn't spying! Ugh, you class A students really are so full of yourselves! I was simply admiring this lovely plant!"

"First, you said you didn't know how you got here, and now you're saying you were just admiring a plant?" Kirishima laughed. "You were totally spying on me!"

"I can not believe I'm being accused of such a thing! You really think I would waste my time spying on some Crimson Riot wannabe?!"

Kirishimas playful smirk dropped. He clenched his jaw and fist at Monomas insult.

"And since when were you and Bakugou so close!? You two are funny if you think you have a chance of being number 1! I will surpass all of yo-"

Kirishima grabbed Monoma by his collar and held him up against the wall. Kirishima looked straight into Monomas eyes, giving him a death stare. Kirishima brought his face up close to Monomas. They were so close, Monoma could feel Kirishimas breath on his lips.

"Shut the fuck up and mind your own business."

For once, Monoma's loud mouth was zipped, his eyes wide as it met with the harsh glare of Kirishima. The sight of the red-haired boy so angry was unnerving, a look he didn't know was possible on someone who's always smiling... It was hot, to say the least.

"I seriously can't stand you. You have no idea how hard I've tried to like you," Kirishima grits out as his grip on Monoma's collar tightens in frustration.

"... O-oh, please." Monoma lets out a small scoff in hopes of sounding confident. "Just because I've insulted you a few times, you're unable to contain your emotions? Do I really rile you up that much? How do you expect to become a pro hero if you lose your temper so easily?"

"And how do you expect to become a pro hero when all you ever do is talk down on others for attention?"

"Attention isn't what I want-"

"From me, it is."

"... W-what are you saying, huh? Don't be so egotistical to assume anyone would want your attention." Monoma retorts defensively, trying his best to ignore the fact that it was true. He'd never admit it to himself, but being able to see Kirishima lose his composure... It did things he didn't want to explore. Or did he?

[majesticwren]

due to high demand - me. I'm high demand. this entire project is being written entirely for my pleasure, be warned I'm being extremely self-indulgent - I've decided to write a little prequel to the events that take place here. this is set in 2018 and is the beginning of Fletch x OFC. billy will have his own little prequel at some point. enjoy. a/n: please don't come for me I am heavily lingering into the angst and the toxicity and the drama only for the pleasure of it and this is my testimony be warned because we'll dive head first in it folks.

Trigger Warning/s: OFC is her own trigger warning she is damaged goods and slightly toxic and emotionally unavailable, kyle is a little baby, mark is being overprotective and extremely toxic sorry not sorry, alcohol consumption, mention of addiction, mention of heroin abuse, mention of sex, mention of trauma, mention of intentional overdose, swearing, smut!, unprotected sex (this is a fic, don't do this at home kids, know your sexed!), loss of virginity (Kyle's a baby, as already said), OFC is slightly dom, angst, mainly friends to lovers/impossible relationship dynamics.

nuclear season: part I -> | part II -> | part III -> prequel: <- part I | part III -> | part IV -> Masterlist

“I tell you,” Kyle chuckled, “you should have been there. I fell off the stool from laughter. I have never seen anything like it before in my life,”

They laid close to each other in a nest of covers and pillows on her bed in her messy hotel room. Music played in the background. Erika looked at his features, getting inebriated by the naïve, sweet look he had on his pretty face. His blushed cheeks and the lack of focus he had due to being tipsy were getting her drunk more than the alcohol.

“Well, then,” Erika raised the half-full bottle of tequila in a cheer, “I suppose that requires a hooray!” giggling to herself, she let her head fall heavy on the nest of pillows. She wasn’t even sure what they were talking about anymore.

She had tried so hard to stay as far away from heavily drinking for so long, that she almost got back to being able to feel tipsy and enjoy it. She hadn’t been completely clean, but she hadn’t gotten drunk in months. Until tonight.

Sobriety would have meant for her to have a clearer mind to take sensed, thought-through decisions, considering a whole lot of consequences and people involved. But that also meant she was supposed to face her emotions, which Erika had no intention of doing. Not after she had to face Mark’s words.

If her brother didn’t believe in her, what chance did she have?

She tried to escape her past, but it was just as her brother had said. A tiger wouldn’t lose her strips. She would have never become anything better than who she was. Forever branded like the unreliable troublemaker unworthy of the benefit of the doubt or any hope.

She had been so stupid for believing anything could change. That she had a chance to become something better.

And then there was Kyle. She didn’t even want to think about how heartbroken she was. It hurt so much to want someone so desperately and knowing so well she’d never have him. It hurt too much for her to bear. If she had been given the chance to be someone different from her past, maybe she would have thought she could make it. Maybe she would treat him well, give him the affection he deserved and trust him to give her the respect she needed. But she wasn’t different. She was the same girl she left in Australia, only lived in the United Kingdom and pretended to be someone else for kicks.

And now, she just knew she was going to break Kyle’s heart. It was a conscious decision she had made.

Instead of considering her options, Erika decided to take the familiar route of drowning herself in a bottle of tequila and making bad decisions. It was easy enough to forget about her dreams and expectations. And the more she fell into her drunkenness mess of incoherent stormy emotions, the more she became erratic and unpredictable, spiralling into a dark void. She was stuck in an ouroboros where she became the thing she feared the most to escape it.

And now, she was ready to stand by the rubble of everything she was going to ruin.

Before Kyle could grab the bottle from her grasp, Erika retrieved it to her chest, sending him a teasing look, challenging him to come and get it as she drank more of the bitter liquor herself. She hid her grin behind the bottle, chugging down a big gulp. No salt. No lime. No shame.

The liquid felt hot as it slid down her throat and into her stomach. Its warmth spread quickly through her and into her mind, making it difficult to focus on much more but Kyle’s lips.

“You are so pretty,” she whispered, deciding to push herself to break the distance between them and tracing his jawline with her fingertips. “Beautiful, actually.”

Kyle’s face became red all over. “Not like you,” he dared and then stole the bottle off her grasp and hid his timidity behind it.

She felt every inch of her skin itch to be touched. The small distance dividing them was so painful to endure. She felt the need to feel him. To have him. Hanging between their words and in their crossed gazes there was everything she tried to deny herself from feeling and all the space he allowed her to have, respecting her wishes. The difference was she was done being mature. She had taken her decision. Trying and act like the bigger person, getting away from everything toxic in her behaviour, didn’t bring her anywhere. So why keep fighting?

That was her last chance to make a sensible decision before ruining everything.

Fuck Mark.

She thought impulsively, getting distracted from Kyle.

Fuck him and all his empty promises and his pretended love. He didn’t deserve her to try. He didn’t believe she could, anyway. So, he wasn’t going to have the best version of her. He ripped her hope away and threw her in the dark. So, she was going to hurt the only person he cared about. And she had every intention of liking it. Kyle would have been delicious; she just knew it.

“I am so glad you are here,” she didn’t need to lie about that. She was aware of what she was walking into and what she would have done. But she truly liked him.

This time, she traced her fingers to his chin, close to his lips.

Kyle popped a timid smile, as he looked at her face. Words didn’t come out of his mouth. He was fiddling with his hands. So nervous and pretty, made her smile widen. Delicious.

Erika was naturally prompted to move to him, placing a hand on his chest. “What is it, baby?” She wondered in a low purr, pushing herself closer to him. “You are so nervous.”

“I didn’t think you’d call; you know?”

“No?” Erika decided it was time to get rid of the bottle of tequila, which she leaned over to leave on the bedside cabinet, before quickly going back to snuggling by Kyle’s side. “You haven’t noticed how I look at you?”

“I have. I do. I hope that you’ll notice me all the time,” he admitted, “but you made it clear you need distance, and that’s what I gave you.”

“And I appreciate that,” Erika wasn’t lying. Nothing of what she felt for him was constructed. She was truly enjoying spending time with him and wanted so much more from him that it felt difficult to breathe; even though she did ask him to join her only because of her quarrel with Mark, to prove a point, and was determined to break both their hearts.

If she was supposed to end up suffering, she was gonna do it in the sweetest and most prohibited way possible.

“I don’t want to have distance anymore,” Erika suggested, her eyes crossed Kyle’s face, soaking up his sweetness. She decided to encourage him to follow her queue by grabbing his hand and gently guiding him to place it on her stomach. He watched her do it holding his breath in his chest.

His touch was extremely attentive. Kyle laid his large hand flat on her abdomen, not daring to move. His skinny fingers were spread across her, feeling the soft material of the extra-large t-shirt she was wearing above a simple pair of booty shorts. Then, his hand moved ever so slightly, feeling her body underneath his touch.

A shiver crossed her. They were barely touching and she was already on fire. A soft sigh left her as the pleasure of his touch, even just so small, was already enough to make her stretch under him. She desperately wanted him to touch her all over and to feel him everywhere. She was ready to beg and had to bite her tongue not to. Not yet. That simple caress wasn’t enough – not even remotely.

Erika kept her hand on his, pushing him down into her belly, making him feel her. She needed him to explore her. She wanted him to desire to feel her just as badly as she did. Her other hand was still on his face as she was carried away by his timid look as he followed everything she did. There was uncertainty behind his eyes, but it was the edge of expectations he hung on that attracted her the most.

“Tell me what you are thinking,” she pulled his chin, making him look back at her. “I need to know what’s going on behind those beautiful eyes.”

Kyle tried to hide behind a chuckle, but his blushed cheeks gave him away. “What do you think I am thinking?” He wondered, trying to outsmart her.

Except Erika wasn’t playing. “I hope you are wondering what I look like when I am naked.” She dared, not stopping at how he choked on his breath. “And I am hoping you are going to put those pretty hands and lips into use soon.”

“God, Erika,” he whispered, trying to escape her gaze.

He hissed when she didn’t let him get away. “Tell me. Please, baby, I need to know. I need you.”

The way he shivered made her body react. Warmth flooded right through her, charging up her nerves and making her belly ache and her abdomen feel heavy. God, nothing about her desire needed to be forced in any way, Erika truly liked him and had been wanting him for a long time now. Only she had stopped hiding it away. Now it was her time to be selfish.

“Me too,” he admitted, leaning closer to her, enough to press his forehead on hers. “I want you so bad it hurts.”

She smiled victoriously and decided she was done waiting around. She pushed herself closer to him, brushing her lips on his.

Kyle took another few moments to warm up. He was awkward and uncertain, but surely ready to follow her queues, because, as soon as he battled with his shyness, he dived into her lips, kissing her with a hunger and desperation Erika was more than ready to match.

It had been so long since they kissed and she had missed his lips ever since.

There was a force pulling her towards him. How did she believe it possible to fight against her deepest desires?

She was such a fool.

Erika’s hand cruised across his neck and around his shoulders, pulling him down on her. She avidly studied the slim edges of his body, admiring the feeling of every muscle and bone she found, desiring to feel more. She needed his naked skin. His warmth. His everything.

Kyle weighing on her as they made out was so sweet and ravaging. She was already pretty unhinged and self-destructive, but now, nothing was stopping her.

Erika bent her leg and slid it around his thin waist, branching around him like ivy. She then guided his hand from her belly to her thigh, needing to feel his fingers on her naked skin. This time, Kyle was more courageous and took the initiative, squeezing her soft flesh into his hold. The soft moan he released, pushing himself against her, further into her arms, sent her ballistic.

Erika pushed him down on the mattress and hopped over his hips, straddling him. This time, lowering herself back down, she pushed her face into the crook of his neck, avidly kissing his skin and adoring feeling him tensing up underneath her, his choked breath was music to her ears.

Kyle took a few long seconds before feeling confident enough to wrap his hands around her hips. But then, he rewarded her by letting his hands explore her body, feeling dauntless enough to cruise up her spine and down one leg.

Erika pulled herself up sitting back into his hips and enjoying every inch of his body she felt underneath her. He was aroused. She felt his trapped erection poke her through their clothes. And, God, that was enough to make her head spin. Not thinking too clearly, she pushed her hands in between them, reaching for his belt, feeling the need to touch him.

However, before she could even realise her desires, Kyle froze and was quick to stop her. His hold on her was gentle but firm as he grabbed her hands and pushed them off him.

Erika sat back up on him, frowning. “What is it, baby?”

“Nothing,” he huffed, avoiding eye contact, “I just- would like to take it easy, for a moment.”

Looking down at him, she suddenly felt slightly uncomfortable with the idea that he may have not wanted the same thing she did, despite his clear arousal and desire for her. Though there was something in him, in his quickened breath and pink cheeks, and in the way his eyes were drawn away from her, that intrigued her even more.

She slipped a hand of his grasp only to grab his chin and pull him to look at her. “What is it, Fletch?”

“Nothing-” he choked. His entire face was becoming red.

Erika leapt into his eyes. “No. That’s not nothing.” She leaned in, brushing her lips over his softly, “Tell me.”

Kyle hesitated, looking at her for a long moment and then, with a defeated sigh, he shook his head. “I think I need a minute before we start doing stuff.”

“Ok,” she nodded, understanding and encouraging, not forcing herself on him. “Why? Are you ok?”

“More than ok,” he nodded, “please, don’t think I don’t want this. You.” He released her hand only to place his around her hips, giving her an encouraging squeeze. “Because I do. More than the world.”

“Then what is it?” She wondered softly, kissing gently his forehead and then cheeks, loving the way he moulded into her like a cat bumping his little face into her.

“I-” he choked on a secret.

“You can tell me,” She encouraged him softly, sliding her hand across the back of his neck and up his shaved hair, gently cradling him. “You can tell me anything.”

“I may not have as much experience as you think I do,” he revealed speaking quickly.

“That’s ok,” Erika pulled a gentle smile, willing to make him feel at ease. She had suspected it by the way he was attentive and soft and, if anything, it only made her more feral.

Though Kyle still shook his head. “No, you don’t understand.” He took a deep breath like he was trying to gather all his courage. “I’ve never done this before.”

Erika was stricken.

She froze on the spot, looking down at him.

However, her shock was soon gone. She was quick to cup his face into her hands, holding him ever so gently. “Are you a virgin?”

Kyle quietly nodded, face still red all over and puppy eyes so sweet her heart couldn’t take it.

Her chest was quick to warm back up and fill with a feeling so strong it made it hard to breathe. It was respect. It was affection. It was straight-up devotion, the second she realised the meaning of his words. And then it ripped her apart, as she realised he wasn’t only a sweet-looking boy she fancied. He wasn’t only a prohibited fruit she wanted to defile to prove a point. He was so much more than that. He was everything she wanted. What she felt rolling out of her chest, made her have to bite her tongue not to tell him how deep she was falling for him.

She attentively caressed his cheeks.

That wasn’t going the way she had planned. She had planned to do what she was used to, which was charming a boy into bed with her and watching her world burn. But now all of that was gone in the back of her mind. Now there was only their moment.

“Would you give it to me?” She wondered pulling his chin up, brushing her lips against his.

Kyle nodded without a second of hesitation. “Yes. Yes, please. I have thought about this so much. I just need you to go slow on me.”

“Oh? You thought about this?” Kyle whined and nodded in her hold, only attracting her attention more. Erika kissed the sides of his mouth, “When?” she wondered in a whisper, “touching yourself?” He whimpered, and then nodded again, only prompting her to pull his chin softly. “Use your words, pretty boy.”

“Yes. I did.”

Erika rewarded him with a soft kiss. “Thinking about me?”

“Mh- yes, it’s always you.”

“Fuck, Kyle,” she hissed as a shiver crossed her back, making her skin ripple in goosebumps.

There, right at that moment, as they both stood over an edge there was no coming back, Erika decided there was no past or future. They were only a boy and a girl who liked each other. There were no consequences, no regrets. Only what they felt and what they wanted.

And she desperately wanted him to be hers. Only hers.

Erika pulled him up in a kiss, starting with her plan by taking his lips. He melted underneath her, now wrapping his arms fully around her, caging in a hug and holding onto her like she was a lifeline.

This time, he was the one taking the initiative. He traced her chin with his lips and down her neck, pushing her to bend in between his arms, assaulting one of her most sensitive spots, tasting her skin.

“Yes,” she cooed with a proud smile on her lips, enjoying feeling his mouth on her. “I like that. Keep going.”

Kyle followed her words gladly, taking a liking to nibble on the sensitive skin under her ear only to feel her shiver and sigh in his arms. She whimpered when his hot tongue passed over the spots his teeth marked.

“Did you ever have a girlfriend, before?” she wondered breathlessly, sliding a hand through the longer hair on top of his head, feeling the need to grab on something.

“I am not that naïve,” he pointed out, looking up at her with a small grin, “I did stuff before, only not everything.”

God, he was breathtaking with his puffed-up lips, blushed cheeks and glimmery eyes.

“Oh, yeah?” Erika brushed her lips on his forehead, “what stuff?” She found it so arousing for no reason in particular, if not that he just became a thousand times more delicious to her. She wanted to eat him up.

Kyle went red again. “Everything else but sex.”

“Everything?” She kept wondering, tracing circles with her fingers across the back of his neck. “Like what? You had a little girlie who showed you how she liked to be touched? Or more than one girl, maybe?”

“Are you taking the piss out of me?”

“No.” She simply said looking down at him. “It turns me on. Tell me, I want to know.”

“Just one girl,” he sighed, giving her exactly what she wanted, “We were high school sweethearts, we were together for a little over one year, though it didn’t work out as soon as I started travelling with wrestling. It’s been some time now.”

“Was she pretty?” Erika causally played with his hair.

She wasn’t jealous. She had never been jealous once in her life, her ego was big enough to give her the confidence to know there was no competition with her. When she wanted something, she simply would have it. There was no other way about it. But she was proud, arrogant even, and she needed to know; she needed to hear it from his lips.

“Yes,” he nodded, “she was a pretty girl. Too pretty for me. But nothing compared to you,” Kyle didn’t disappoint her. “But you know that, don’t you?”

She pushed her index under his chin, making him lift his face. “I like to hear how pretty you think I am.”

“Breathtaking,” he revealed. The way his honest eyes glimmered, as he traced the soft lines of her features, gave her a shiver. “You look like you came out of a dream. But it isn’t only your smoky hot body or the way I’d fall on my knees every time you smile. It’s your eyes. When you look at me, I feel seen. I feel important.”

“You are seen,” Erika slid her hands around his face, making sure to be as close to him as possible, “You are important to me, Kyle.”

She shouldn’t have said it. She was well aware. But there were worse things she wanted to say just as badly. She wasn’t only falling for him; she was already there and had those three words on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t keep it in anymore, her heart was leaping out of her chest and pouring straight into his. Erika had no control over the emotion that just overwhelmed her. But she forced herself to silence.

He may never know it. She had never been no one’s before, but she was his now. No matter about tomorrow or the consequences of all those damned choices they were making in that bed. A piece of her just left her and he had it to keep forever.

“I want to take off your clothes,” she instructed softly, her hands sliding down on his chest, hinting at her words. “Would that be ok?”

Kyle nodded quickly, only prompting her to reach for the helm of his t-shirt and pull it up and over his head. She then gave him a gentle push, hinting for him to lay back down under her. Kyle followed her queue obediently and let her feast on the view.

She saw him shirtless all the time while they worked. Sometimes around the house too. It wasn’t news. But it was entirely different now when she had his consent to study, tease and taste every centimetre of his exposed skin.

Her fingers followed attentively her gaze across his torso. His skin was soft and warm under her touch, feeling thinly stretched over his slim body. She followed the edges of his thin pecs and down the sternum to his abdomen. As she teased him, tracing her fingers lower to his belly button, Erika enjoyed seeing how his breath trembled in his belly. It gave her a hot shiver that crossed her spine and nested right into her abdomen, giving her the primal need to lower herself and leave a deep bite mark on his belly. Before she could get distracted over, her fingers cruised back up across his sides and ribs, feeling every bone under her fingertips, counting them.

Erika leaned down on him and, before he could move his arms to reach for her, she gently interceded him and made him bend them over his head. A confident smirk on her lips as she looked at him as she crossed his wrists and pinned him down, looking at him like he was his most precious possession.

“Do not move. Can you do that for me, Kyle?”

“Yes,” his voice was bent in a whimper that made her thoughts fog up.

“Good boy,” Erika rewarded him with a kiss on the lips and then moved on his neck. Her hand clawed around his jaw, pushing his head up, making him expose as much of his throat as possible just so she’d have free access to it.

She kissed and nibbled over his soft skin, having to assert the utmost control over herself so as not to leave visible marks. Even though marking him was the only thing she could think about. It was possessive, maybe wrong even, and yet, she wanted his skin to present the traces of her nails, teeth and hickeys.

Kyle moaned and stretched underneath her, bucking his hips up at her, trying to find some kind of release, as she sucked his soft skin into her mouth. It was enough to send them both insane. Erika passed her tongue from the base of his neck up to his chin. Feeling his Adam’s apple move under her muscle made her growl like a feral animal.

She then moved down across his body. Her lips moved to his shoulders as she nibbled on his collarbones and down his chest, where she enjoyed toying with his nipples, licking and sucking, only bringing him to arch underneath her and huff, blinded by pleasure.

“You need to stay still for me, baby,” she hinted as she moved down on him, crossing his abdomen with the tip of her nose.

Kyle still arched underneath her, extremely reactive to her touch.

God. And she hadn’t even got to his cock yet. She wondered what kind of little whimpers he would have offered as soon as she did.

Her hands moved across his hips and followed the edge of his jeans, moving slowly to the buckle of his belt. She looked up at him, making sure to study his reaction so she could stop if he froze again.

He didn’t. He hissed instead, arching and throwing his head backwards, letting her have a perfect view of his stretched-up body caged by the invisible chains of her will.

“Give me permission to take your pants off, baby,” she begged.

Kyle looked down at her, looking pretty and desperate, lust glimmering through his beautiful light eyes. “Yes,”

Erika started to undo his belt; her savvy fingers had no trouble with the buckle. “And then,” she started, looking back up at him, “I want to take you into my mouth. Would you like that, baby?”

Kyle let his head fall back, his chest trembled in a small whimper.

“Use your words, pretty boy,”

“Please, Erika,” he whispered, still keeping his hands above his head like he was tied down. “Yes. Do whatever you like to me.”

Erika acted frantically like her life depended on that moment. She opened his jeans and pulled them down on his hips, not letting herself look at him. Not just yet. She wanted to savour it. She pulled them down his legs, helped by him lifting his waist. They giggled innocently to each other.

Finally, once he was naked under her, Erika slid her hands across his thighs, feasting on his body.

A proud grin crossed her plump lips as she shamelessly looked at his erection. “What a nice surprise,” she teased, biting down on her lip, “such a big pretty boy with a big pretty cock,” she spaced her words willingly, adoring seeing him hang from her lips.  

Kyle was flustered, red all over his face and neck, and breathless, but didn’t hide from her. There was a certain level of expectation and ego hiding behind his curiosity. He wished to be praised. “All yours.”

His words crossed her like a spike, hitting her straight into her lower abdomen, and making her tremble. She felt her inside squeeze under the desperate pressure of feeling him inside of her. She had never experienced desire quite like that before.

“Mine.” She agreed.

His virgin skin was milky pale, making her feel the savage need to bite down on him, nibbling along his leg and up to his hipbone. A desire she gave into and responded to Kyle’s little whimpers with moans of her own.

She looked up at him, making sure he was just as lost in the moment as she was, as her lips traced across his lower abdomen. Erika was attentive as she rolled her hand around his cock, allowing Kyle to settle down into her touch. He flinched, but almost immediately relaxed under her, releasing a pleasureful sigh. Erika gently squeezed him in her palm, rolling her hand across his length.

A sharp smile crossed her lips. “Did I get your dick wet?” It was a rhetorical question. He was, in fact, wet, so to speak. But she still wanted to see him nod for her. “You are so fucking desperate; I haven’t even done anything yet.” Her hand followed her words across his cock as she dared to kiss its base, feeling the need to have a little taste of him.

Kyle moaned shamelessly. “I-” he tried to formulate words that only escaped him, mixing with whimpers.

She had never heard a prettier sound.

“What, baby?”

“Please, Erika, I can’t take it anymore,”

She was the one who whimpered now. Having him begging under her made her go feral.

Erika looked up at him, nodding. “I want you to do something for me,”

“Anything,”

“You are free to move your hands now. I want you to grab my hair as I suck on you. And I want you to pull it. And I want you to push me down on you anytime you want to go deeper into my throat.”

“Fuck-” he choked.

“Can you do this for me, baby?”

“What if I choke you?”

“God, baby,” she flicked her tongue along his length, stealing another moan and all of his focus out of him. “That’s the entire point. I want to choke on your cock.”

Kyle sounded like he could cry and she was done wasting time.

She knew well he wouldn’t have lasted long. And she was intentioned to milk every drop of the pleasure of his first time out of him. But she also wished to take it as slow as possible, just like he asked.

Erika traced his length, base to tip, with her tongue and then, she gently took him into her mouth, again allowing him to get used to the feeling of her hot mouth around him. Kyle moaned loudly, not losing a second to slip both his hands into her hair, grabbing on it more to brace himself than to control her movement. As he looked down at her, his mouth was open, pretty lips puffed and wet, his face bent in pleasure.

When she started sucking on him, Kyle was completely gone. He let his head fall backwards on the pillows and arched underneath her, whimpering and softly moaning to her every movement. Erika slid her hands up his chest, digging her nails into his skin, as she took him a little deeper into her mouth with every thrust.

Kyle followed his instinct, Erika’s lips closed around the base of his dick and he, holding her head firmly in between his hands, pushed himself as deep as possible into her throat. A shiver crossed as she felt him so deep inside of her. She released a suffocated moan that slipped right through him, shaking Kyle too.

“Fuck, baby I’m-” he gasped for air, “so close.”

Erika pulled back, releasing him and catching her breath. Looking up at him, she whipped out another sharp grin. “Do you want me to stop?” she wondered only pretending to be innocent. She had no intention of stopping.

“Not a chance,” Kyle then surprised her. He grinned too and, pulling on her hair, he hinted to her to climb back over him. “You are still wearing clothes,” he whispered as soon as she was close enough for him to kiss her.

Kyle took over. He moved her hair out of the way and kept a hand dug deep into it. She started to suspect he liked it to hold her like that. And Erika had no complaints about it. Erika threw her arms around his shoulders, enjoying his initiative. With his free hand, Kyle guided her to go back straddling him and then wrapped his arm around her hips, pushing her to sit as close to him as humanly possible.

His erection pressed on her hot core, making her head spin. It was the first moment she realised what kind of mess she was already. Her pleasure had been forgotten for a second, but now, she realised she had soaked her pants. Erika released a soft moan into his mouth as she rubbed herself against him, only giving him a hint of what to expect. She wanted to drive them both insane.

Kyle’s fingers squeezed the material of her large t-shirt, he then tugged at it and pulled it up on her figure. Erika helped him remove it and then welcomed how he moved on her with a giggle. Her body moulded on him as Kyle kissed her neck, down to her collarbones and shoulders, and lower again. His warm hands were quicker to cup her breasts, squeezing them; he followed quickly, not losing a second to suckle on her tits.

Erika’s head fell heavy as his tongue played with her hard nipples. Her stomach was invaded by a heavy wave of pleasure that slipped through her, making her skin feel tight as she stretched against him, looking to find release. A louder moan escaped her lips, only prompting him to grunt on her.

“Look at you,” she whispered brushing her smile on his forehead. “Little virgin pretty boy knows what he’s doing, uh?”

Kyle shamelessly bit her nipple, in return to her words, and then offered a cocky smirk. “I know some stuff.”

“Clearly,” she smiled, pushing a finger under his chin making him lift his face. “Can I fuck you, now?”

He trembled under her touch; his fingers squeezed her hips as he softly nodded. “Yes. I’d like that.”

“Yes, you would, baby.”

Erika downed on his lips, trapping them into a kiss. She caged his head between her arms and squeezed him against her as if she could push him into her chest and never let him go.

Kyle’s fingers hooked on the band of her booty shorts and pulled on them, teasing her. To which Erika reacted moving her hips, rubbing herself on him.

She broke their kiss, trying to catch her breath and think clearly, even though common sense still escaped her. It was too hot, he was too sweet and inebriating, and the tequila didn’t help.

“Ok,” she huffed, “do you know how it’s going to work?”

“I have access to the internet, babe. I’ve seen porn before.”

Erika smirked, shaking her head as they both blushed. “Ok, little smartass, don’t get an attitude with me,” she poked his chest, “or I’ll make you regret it and beg until you apologise to me.”

Kyle smiled, so smitten as he looked at her. “You like having control, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.” That being said, she pulled his hair, making him bend his head for her. “I’ll give you a pass because I am about to take your virginity,” only thinking about that made her stomach tremble, “but remember it next time. A brat gets punished.”

Kyle still smiled, testing her. “Careful, I might decide to punish you, one day.”

A shiver crossed her. They had no future, she was aware, and yet she hoped for it. She wished that one day, he’d make her whine and moan desperately under his control. “Let’s see if you can take it from me, pretty boy.” She decided she rather keep pretending that was only the beginning for them.

Erika pushed him down on the mattress and then got rid of her shorts, throwing them somewhere in the room. She was quick climbing back on him and, as soon as she did, she grabbed Kyle’s cock, massaging it into her palm and silencing whatever he was going to say. “You are so hard for me, baby.”

Kyle hissed, nodding as his hands cruised on her thighs. He bit hard on his lower lip, looking so pretty underneath her, it was insane. Erika pushed him against her bare core, rubbing herself against him and immediately was shaken by a wave of pleasure, feeling how hot and heavy his flesh was. “Do you feel how wet you got me?”

He whimpered softly, looking down at their bodies meeting. “Fuck, Erika,”

Every time he called for her name, she felt transported to another dimension.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. God, yes.”

“Come here, baby. Sit up for me,” she suggested and was ready to catch him as soon as he did as she asked. She rolled an arm around his shoulders, keeping him as close as possible. She needed it. She had no intention of having an inch of space in between them as she took him deep inside of her. “I want you so bad.” Erika brushed her lips on his chin, accompanying her words rubbing herself against him once more.

Kyle trembled under her and then hissed, nodding. “Me too. Please, just fuck me.”

She didn’t let him ask her again. She was done waiting and teasing. It was time and there was no going back. She was already his. And he was hers. Only for that night.

Erika lifted her hips and positioned herself on him. She looked straight into his eyes, getting lost in them as she slowly lowered herself on his erection, taking him inch by inch as slowly as she could. Pleasure shot through her immediately, connecting her to him on a deeper level. She mirrored his expression as Kyle opened his mouth, welcoming feeling her squeezing on him and taking his virginity with a silent moan. She wasn’t quiet. He was shaken by a shiver as pain and pleasure mixed through him.

Erika sat still on him, giving him the time to process how it felt. He stretched her nicely, making her feel breathless. A proud smile quickly followed as she nodded, encouraging him. “Good boy,” she whispered, kissing the sides of his mouth, hugging him. “Pretty, sweet boy. All mine.” Erika kept lulling, getting lost in their moment.

When she moved on him, she watched him take a deep breath and hold it in his chest. Pleasure was slipping through her, making it so difficult for her not to get selfish and just take what she wanted.

“Tell me how it feels, Kyle.” Her words were accompanied by another slow thrust.

He rolled his eyes in the back of his skull as a small whimper shook his chest. “You feel-” his words were choked, “Hot. And wet. And so damn tight I can’t breathe.”

“Good?” She wondered brushing her lips across his forehead and down his nose, enjoying how he moved under her, responding to her naturally.

“So, so, good, baby.”

Erika hid her proud smile into his lips, kissing him deeply.

“I will go faster now, is that ok?”

“Please,”

Erika proceeded to ride him, bucking her hips up and down his cock with increasing speed, following the pleasure quickly mounting into her lower abdomen and spreading through her as he stroked her most sensitive spot inside of her. She didn’t care about being quiet anymore. On the contrary, she was as vocal as possible. She wanted him to hear exactly what he was doing to her.

She held onto his shoulders as her pleasure only grew, making her fingers claw. She dug her nails into his flesh, willingly leaving marks across his back.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” she cooed to his ear, enjoying the little noises he made in response.

“I am so close,” he whispered sounding so desperate it sent her feral.

“Do you want to come, pretty boy?” She wandered making him look at her.

Kyle nodded, letting her see how the pleasure of being lost inside of her shaped his face.

Erika pulled his hair, making him bend his head backwards and riding him mercilessly, determined to take what she wanted. Every drop of it. “Then let it go,”

He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing his fingers on every inch of skin he could grab. He pulled down on her hips, burying himself as deep inside of her as humanly possible.

“Kyle,” she welcomed him with a moan, letting her head fall backwards. She felt him in her stomach. He choked the breath out of her chest and she loved every second of it. To the point, she started wondering how she could have got back to normality.

Kyle quivered underneath her. His breath was shaken and broken, as he erratically mumbled her name, chanting it like a prayer. And then she felt him get stiffer as pleasure shook him. He found his release quickly and violently, suffocating a loud moan into the crook of her neck and letting himself go in between her arms.

Erika felt him unload inside of her; she felt every inch of him shake in waves of pleasure, that crossed straight into her flesh, pushing her over the same edge. Her pleasure caught both by surprise. She didn’t count on coming. Not the first time anyway. Instead, her orgasm mounted violently inside of her just a moment after him. Erika came calling his name in a soft whimper, praising him and cradling him into her arms. Her quivering body squeezed him into overstimulation, making him extremely reactive to her spasms, as he gifted her with small, pretty whines, not daring to push her away but letting her ride her high.

“Fuck,” she whispered, trying to catch her breath, “you are pretty good for a good, little, virgin boy.” Erika pressed grateful kisses on his forehead and cheeks, not hiding her proud, lovestruck smile.

“I can be even better,” Kyle looked up at her, so devoted she felt his gaze into her heart. His hands cupped her face as he pulled her into a soft kiss. “You know,” he began, stroking her softly, “what I feel for you, don’t you?”

Erika had to fight against the need to hear him say it. She knew. She knew so well. Her heart sang for him. She didn’t need his words to know that if she was ready to fall he’d be there to catch her. But she couldn’t afford to hear it. Erika pressed her fingers on his lips, gently shutting him up. “Whatever, you know? Don’t say it, Kyle.”

“Why?”

“Because if you say it, I’ll have to say that I do too. And that won’t be fair.”

“We just had sex. You were my first. And somehow this is worse?”

“No. Not worse,” Erika kissed his lips softly, “I can deal with sex. I know sex. I don’t know feelings. Don’t say it, Kyle, please.” She sounded so desperate.

“Ok,” the look he sent her was just as intense, “Whatever.”

Later, that same night, Kyle laid heavily on her, fast asleep. He passed out pretty quickly after their third round. Which was another surprise he had in store for her, just like the amount of pleasure he was able to give her. He was a quick, eager learner.

She wouldn’t have forgotten that night easily. Surprisingly, the good sex her little virgin pretty boy gave her wasn’t the only reason.

Erika was lost in the quietness surrounding them. Time had slowed down. She listened to his soft snoring and softly played with his hair with one hand and stroked his back with the other. His head was nested on her chest, arms caging her under him.

It was pretty good, she thought. It was something she so desperately wanted to get used to.

Maybe, she should have revised her entire plan. Maybe, she could have stood up to her brother and faced the consequence of accepting to be in love with that sweet boy. It could have worked. She could, maybe, deserve to be happy. If only-

Erika brushed her lips softly on Kyle’s forehead. “I love you,” she whispered ever so softly. A secret no one else could know.

The bright sun flooded the room. The morning was well started as birds sang outside, traffic flowed on the road by the hotel and people walked up and down the rooms, closing doors and dragging suitcases.

But the same couldn’t be said for the occupants of the bed. Erika was oblivious. Lost in her lazy slumber, drowning in soft pillows and even softer arms. She had woken a couple of times already but had decided to roll over and ignore responsibilities, only finding Kyle’s arms ready to hug her and pull her in a deeper, warmer hug. Why would she ever consider waking up when the alternative was that sweet?

A singing maid pushed her wonky trolley through the corridor. Erika vaguely heard it creak as it moved. But it was when it got slammed carelessly against the wall just outside her door that she was finally startled awake.

As Erika jumped up, Kyle too moved, rolling on his back and taking a deep breath in. Senses came back slowly to her at first; she had a second to recollect her memories, the room looked just as messy as she was used to having it, but she knew she wasn’t home, she was in a hotel somewhere in England. Essex maybe? Or Suffolk, it didn’t matter much. Then Erika was hit by a massive headache that weighed her head down. She felt it in her teeth. Behind her eyes. Under her ears. Into her fingertips and toes. Her stomach twisted.

“Ugh,” she hissed, letting herself fall back on the mattress, covering her eyes with her arm.

“’orning,” Kyle mumbled, stretching on the mattress next to her. “Did you sleep well?”

It took her a second longer to remember everything else. Mark. Kyle. The sex. The feelings. Panic started to set inside of her, making adrenaline fire up in her veins, giving her the familiar fight-or-flight feeling she was so used to dealing with running.

“Shit,” she kicked her sheets off, jumping off the bed looking for something, anything, to wear to cover herself up.

Kyle sat up, frowning, rubbing his hands on his face.

Erika took a moment to look at him, not even realising she had stopped only to think how pretty he was just awake, skin kissed by the sun. Or maybe it was everything they shared that made her want to drop everything else, slip back into bed and let him know how much she had no intention of letting him go, ever.

“What is it?” He wondered, leaning his head to the side, puzzled.

Erika got shaken back into reality and went back to her hasted movements. “You weren’t supposed to sleep here all night,” she warned directly looking at him.

“OK? So?”

“Get up,” Erika threw his t-shirt back at him. “You went M.I.A. all night, you know what that means? Mark has probably lost his mind by now.”

Kyle shook his head. “I don’t care, I am an adult. He’ll be fine.”

“No. He won’t.” Erika shook her head, “Trust me, Kyle. He won’t. Not about this.”

Kyle shook himself awake, trying to connect her words to a deeper meaning, even though his face remained only puzzled. “Slow down,” he hinted, moving to the edge of the bed to grab her by the arm and stop her erratic moving around. Kyle pulled her closer to him, and, against her better judgment, she let him. “Explain what’s going on to me, please?”

“I am kicking you out.” Erika sighed sadly. “And Mark can never know this happened,” she pointed in between them, “He won’t forgive me, ever. He doesn’t want me to be with you. He made it pretty clear last night.”

“Is that what happened at the pub? Why you left?”

“Yeah,”

“Erika,” Kyle tried to catch her gaze, “I don’t care what Mark thinks, I want to be with you.”

“No. You don’t. I have a past. I did terrible things. Mark knows every single one of those things. He knows better what’s good for me. You might be good for me, there’s hardly a person you wouldn’t be good for. But I am not good for you. He’s right on that.”

“Do I get an opinion about this?”

Erika looked up into his eyes, silently begging him to stop. “Please, Kyle, don’t go there.”

“Hey, hey,” Kyle cupped her face, making her look at him, trying to scoop her out of her panic. “I don’t care about all of that. Whatever you were before I met you won’t change the girl I fell for now. You don’t want to tell your brother? Fine by me. Just tell me you are ok.”

“I’m,” Erika was ready to slip off his hold and yet, somehow, there was something in his gaze that hooked her. “I’m ok,” she whispered leaning in to give him a quick kiss, “But you need to go.”

“Ok,” Kyle still pulled a cheeky smile, pulling her into a kiss. Then, he hopped off the bed and back into his clothes. “I’ll see you at breakfast?”

“Food. God, yes. Let’s hope we’ll be on time for it.”

He still hung by the door, looking back at her. His lips were bent in a stupid smile, his gaze, as he looked at her, was completely smitten. “For what is worth, I am glad we did what we did.”

She stood by a forked road; she was looking at her options and felt like both led to ruin. One represented something sweeter, that would have hurt so much more when everything would have gone up in flames. The other was jumping into the void now.

Erika was well aware of what she had been telling herself all night. She knew what she was supposed to do. What she thought was the best course of action. And yet, now, standing there, she was just a lovestruck girl, looking at a boy she liked so much her chest hurt only thinking about it. It was hard to breathe. She told herself she would have been able to shake herself back to normal. She was convinced she could have scratched that itch for him and then go at breaking his heart as if nothing mattered. Except she lied.

Her itch to scratch was only becoming bigger. About a lifetime size, right now. How would one shake that?

“Me too,” she admitted, pulling a soft smile. “Now go, you idiot,” she chuckled, hinting at the door. “I’ll see you later.”

As soon as Kyle left the room and Erika was left alone, her despair and torment took over her, stripping her of every good feeling and intention that was giving her a shred of hope.

She wasn’t going to be able to make him happy. Maybe for a few weeks, it would have worked, but not for long. She wasn’t enough for him. She would have never been enough, and when Kyle realised that too, it would have been the end of her. She was addicted to how he made her feel, now, because he didn’t know who she had been before and made her feel so good about everything she was and did. But what about when he’d look at her with regrets and resentment, realising he had made a mistake trusting someone like her?

Erika forced herself to shove those thoughts to the side and got in the shower, doing her best to delay the panic attack she felt mounting into her chest.

Breathing in the steam and getting lost in the soft smell of her fresh shower gel that always reminded her of a shower took in the evening after a long summer day spent at the beach was reassuring. She let the hot water run across her skin. It was a compromise between the sadness of washing away the traces of the night she spent with Kyle and the relaxation her tensed nerves found.

By the time she was done with the shower and brushed her teeth, it was almost ten o’clock and Erika had barely time to dress up and ran out of her room if she wanted to catch the breakfast. She needed it. She realised that besides a few chips and the tequila she drunk last night, she had been fasting since lunch the day before. She needed to eat some solid food, to drink a coffee and possibly some orange juice. God, she hoped to find some.

Erika entered the restaurant on a trot, welcoming the familiar smell of the breakfast canteen every hotel seemed to have with a soft smile. Most tables were being cleaned up. Most food from the buffet was gone, like the fresh pastries. But she made it. Nothing else mattered. She could see the filter coffee pot on the side and thought “life is good”.

She turned over, looking into the room, finding both Mark and Kyle sat at a table by the window. The table was a mess. Mark sat in front of Kyle, he had several stacked-up plates in front of him, already empty, probably from a while, and was enjoying some coffee, while Kyle was deep into his full breakfast. They were chitchatting joyfully, big smiles on both their faces. And Erika took a moment to just enjoy seeing them like that. She wished she had her camera on her. They were both so beautiful and without a worry in the world.

Her chest ached.

As soon as she moved, Kyle caught a glimpse of her and his eyes didn’t leave her. His cheeks immediately blushed softly as his bright eyes glimmered. There was something, in his gaze, that couldn’t be mistaken. He looked like someone who’d seen her naked. He gifted her a large smile as she approached the table.

“Hey,”

“Good morning,” Erika avoided eye contact, pushing her damp hair behind her ear as if that could mask the guilty look she had on her face. She knew Mark was looking at them, she felt his eyes suspiciously moving on her.

“Saved you the last croissant,” Kyle pushed the little plate with the golden pastry cooked to perfection closer to her.

Erika wanted to smack him, and at the same time, everything she wanted to do was to kiss him and express her utmost devotion to his sweet concern. She had to bite her tongue not to. Not when Mark was there.

They had no chance of trying to hide anything from her brother.

“Thanks,” again, she ignored Kyle as much as she could. Clearing her voice, she finally looked at Mark, finding him waiting. He read right through her. Erika immediately looked away, regretting every decision she took in the last twenty-four hours. “Ok, then, I’ll go grab myself some coffee.”

She turned over, leaving them both and went hiding at the buffet counter, weighing her options.

She could have made a run for it; the door was just to her left. Maybe there was a way to never face the consequences of her actions. Cowardice, for sure. But also, she felt it could have been easy to pack her stuff, drop her job and disappear. After all, how many times did she think about it before?

Erika made herself a glass of orange juice and gulped it down and then made another.

No. That was ridiculous. She could never do that.

Fake even when brought up in front of the crushing evidence that she was, in fact, in love with Kyle and nothing could erase what they did last night? Yes. That was better.

Erika poured herself a cup of black filter coffee, wondering if it would have tasted just as disgusting as any other hotel breakfast buffet filter coffee.

“The fuck is up with you two!?”

Mark’s sudden interruption startled her enough that she almost dropped her cups. “Shit, mate, you scared me.”

He casually poured himself a cup of coffee, even though Erika suspected that was just an excuse to get closer to her. “Don’t deflect, sis. What did you do?”

“Nothing,” she lied, shrugging.

Mark grumbled, shaking his head, so disappointed in her he didn’t even need to say anything to hurt her. “The way he looks at you it’s not nothing. And since when you are fucking shy!? C’mon, cut the crap.”

“What do you want me to say!? If I look at him you come at me because I do. And if I don’t you still-”

“Hey,” Mark pointed a finger in her face, “you think I am an idiot? I know you. What did you do!? Are you trying to stand up to me or something, playing with him in the process?”

Erika put her cups down and decided there and then that she was done. She wasn’t a coward who’d run away so easily or ignored the situation forever. Not anymore.

Anger flooded straight through her, firing up her nervous system, and making her squeeze her fists. “You think so little of me?”

“I think I know you. I think I’ve seen enough of your little whims and games. I think I don’t want to see you play with him and end up ruining him, just like you do with everything.”

“Mark,” Erika gasped, hit deeply by his words, shaking her head. “Do you hear yourself?”

“Can you blame me, sis?”

“You are supposed to be in my corner,” she was the one pointing at him now, openly confronting him. “You are supposed to support me.”

“Not with Kyle, I don’t. We both know you’ll get tired of him so quickly. As soon as you are done getting your ego fed by how differently he treats you, you’ll go back to seeking the thrill like you always do. Just leave him alone.”

“Say it,” she hissed. “Say how you think a good-for-nothing, junky, slut like me will never deserve someone like him. I fucking dare you.”

Mark huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll never say that to you.”

“Well, you already did. You are thinking about it. Might as well use the real words you are thinking, uh? Have the guts to go all the way, at least.”

“Fine,”

Erika gasped, feeling the air being taken out of her chest. She hoped until the end he wouldn’t agree with her. She gave him the benefit of the doubt, grasping on her last shred of trust in her brother, that he’d never go so low. And yet, she was wrong.

Of all the people in her life, even Kyle, Mark was the one most capable of destroying her.

And he just did.

“Fuck you,” Erika fought back her tears, not intentioned to give him the satisfaction to see how deeply he just hurt her. “Anything that will happen now it’s your fault. I want you to know. I want you to feel it. And regret it.”

“Erika,”

The second he tried to hold her, she pushed him back, spitting in his face. “No. You fucking bastard. You don’t get to annihilate me and shit all over everything I have done in my life, the good and the bad, in one minute, and then feel better about it.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? What are you going to do?”

“Break his fucking heart for one. I could have made him happy. Maybe,” this time she didn’t hide her tears. “But you had to happen to me. I hate you. And then I am going to shoot some heroin,” Erika smiled maniacally, “Hope to die in the process and stay on your fucking conscience forever,”

Pushing Mark off again, Erika stormed out, too shaken to even consider staying, too distraught to remember about her hunger or dehydration. Who cared about those things? They weren’t important anymore.

She needed to think. She needed space. She needed a smoke so bad.

“Erika, wait,”

“Kyle, get fucked,” she hissed, not stopping her march through the lobby.

“Baby, hold on,” he caught up on her easily and tried to grab her, only for Erika to immediately fight him too.

“What!? What do you want from me, Kyle!?”

Her harsh tone clearly hurt him. Part of her wanted to apologise and hold him and let him hold her and give her all the love and support he had in him. But the rest of her didn’t allow it. She wouldn’t have allowed anyone to hurt her like Mark did. She couldn’t trust anyone, ever. It would have made her only vulnerable. Weak.

Hurting Kyle got rid of the problem. He was the only person left who saw something in her. She sure didn’t anymore. And hurting him would have hurt Mark, just like he deserved.

It didn’t matter how much it would have hurt her. She was already in hell by that point, reliving everything she had done, everything she was and wondering why she ever tried to become better when there was no chance for her.

“I need to make sure you are ok.”

“Well, I am not ok. Do you know why? Because of you. Do you want to know what!?” She burst out, “I didn’t want to say anything before because I didn’t want to hurt you, but I want nothing more to do with you. We had sex, it was fun, thanks, I needed it. And now I got what I wanted and you lost your shine to me.”

“You don’t mean that, I know you don’t.”

“Watch me meaning it.” She turned over, walking out of the hotel, only to grumble when she realised Kyle was still there. “Stop following me around like a lost puppy,”

“Erika, stop for a second, will you?”

“Why?” She did stop. And she did face him. Ready to regret everything she was going to do from there to a minute time. “So that I can look you in the eye and tell you I don’t want to see you anymore? I’ve got everything you had to give and I am done now?” Erika’s conviction in the terrible things she was saying was so true all her lies seemed real. Even to her, for a second. Enough for her not to feel her chest being ripped apart by her own hands. The world was going up in flames around her and she was ready to dance in it. “I don’t need a lost little boy who still has to learn everything in my life. I need myself a man.”

“I-” he stumbled in his own words, genuinely hurt now.

“Make everyone a favour and go back to your silly little life, playing pretend on rings in small gyms in forsaken places around the country, and leave me alone,” she dismissed him turning around, digging into her hoody pocket in search of her cigarettes. “Go back to Mark.”

She knew it took him some time to decide to retreat back inside and when Kyle finally did leave her alone, Erika felt free to let her pain slash through her. Her shoulders bent under the weight of the rubbles of her crumbling world. Hope was lost. And she found some sort of comfort in her despair. It was something familiar that she welcomed like an old friend.

She cried quietly, hiding behind a corner, finishing her cigarette, hanging desperately on the nicotine fix like it was her only lifeline. When she was done, she immediately lit herself another and waited. She wasn’t enjoying it. She wasn’t taking the moment in and soaking under the morning sun, enjoying the warm air smelling of spring. The only thing she wanted to do was to run. She was only taking a second to gather her nerves up and make a plan.

Maybe it was time to disappear. Maybe it was time to go home. Who did she think to fool? She wasn’t so strong as she thought. She would have never escaped her past. It would have always ended up that way.

[wildrangers]

Home // Elias Pettersson

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: This is my submission for the lovely @ryngrvs in The Winter Fic Exchange 2k23, organized by the wonderful @antoineroussel! It’s an established relationship with lots of fluff so I hope everyone enjoys ☺️

Warnings: cursing

“Holy shit, you’re going to lap me soon!”

“Oh, fuck off, Elias” you grumbled as your boyfriend skated past again. His laugh trailed behind him as continued his laps around the rink. You sighed, watching his effortless glides as you desperately tried to stay upright without grasping onto the boards. A month from now, the Canucks were hosting their annual Friends and Family Skate Day and you were deathly afraid you were going to embarrass yourself by wiping out on the ice.

While Elias had been skating basically since he could walk, no one in your family knew how so you were learning now as an adult. You knew you physically could do it but you didn’t have the benefit of being a carefree kid, unafraid of a scraped elbow or twisted ankle—you were acutely aware of the many ways you could accidentally hurt yourself on the ice.

“Need a boost?” Elias called as he approached from behind and you threw your arms out in response. A moment later, you felt your boyfriend’s hands latch onto your waist. “This is the one, I can feel it” he murmured, placing a quick kiss to your ear before carefully pushing you forward for some much-needed momentum.

You took a deep breath, keeping all of Elias’ tips in mind as you moved your legs. You felt giddy as you skated across the length of the ice before grasping onto the corner boards. “I did it!” you called and Elias whooped before stopping in front of you.

“At this rate, you may not embarrass yourself after all” Elias teased and, without thinking, you lurched forward to give him a playful shove.

“Maybe I should ask Brock to train me, he’s way nicer than you” you retorted, pressing your hands into his chest to push him away. A moment later, you realized you’d skated quite a few feet as you moved him away from you after his sarcastic barb. “You asshole, you goaded me into skating without psyching myself out.”

“And it worked, didn’t it?” he smirked, gesturing to how far away you were from the boards. “Also, Boeser is too nice, he’d just coddle you. You wouldn’t learn in time.”

“Wow, it’s almost like you know me or something” you joked, matching Elias’ strides as he kept himself just out of your reach.

“I guess dating someone for almost a year can do that” he agreed, eyes studying your form. “You’re still too tense, älskling, loosen up your knees a bit.”

You did as instructed, surprised and relieved to feel the pressure on your ankles let up slightly as you corrected your stance. “You just don’t want me to demand a foot rub like last time, huh?”

“No, I don’t want you in pain for three days again” he corrected, though you doubted his intentions were entirely pure. “Now, remember, the corners can be tricky but you just have to let your body move with your feet, not fight them. And no knee locking again.”

You nodded, your brows furrowing in concentration as you tried to mimic his movements. You had nearly cleared the corner when you felt your heart skip a beat as your torso naturally came closer to the ice’s surface. You immediately tried to tilt the opposite way to give yourself some distance but that only resulted in you flailing and falling onto your ass. “Fucking hell!” you groaned, laying your head back on the ice and closing your eyes.

You felt Elias settle beside you as his hand gripped yours. “You got to let go and trust your core muscles” he corrected gently.

“I know” you sighed. “But I hate feeling off balance like that.”

“You’re not off balance, you’re actually perfectly stable until you panic and then you lose your balance” he noted as he laid down next to you. You two lay in silence for a few moments as you caught your breath and felt your heart rate return to normal. When you finally opened your eyes to face Elias, he was already studying you intently.

“What?” you questioned softly, meeting his gaze.

“Just admiring the view” he replied quietly, gently brushing the loose strands of hair out of your face.

“Flatterer” you accused even as you felt butterflies rush into your stomach. “What are you really thinking?”

“That I’m lucky to have a partner who cares enough about me to teach themselves how to skate even though it kind of scares the shit of out of them.”

“And I’m lucky to have a boyfriend with enough patience to teach me even though you can occasionally be a bit cranky about it” you grinned, causing him to roll his eyes.

“I’m sorry I lost my patience watching you cling to the boards and refuse to move for half an hour our first time out here” he retorted drawing a loud laugh from you.

“I know, I know, I just couldn’t help myself” you responded, lifting your linked hands to place a kiss to his. “Can we please go back to one of our places now?”

“Only if you can make your way over to the exit on your own. We need to end on a good note, yeah?”

You begrudgingly nodded and Elias got up to help you to your feet. As you readied yourself to skate back across the ice, he wrapped you in a tight embrace, resting his chin on the top of your head. You smiled into his chest, holding him close and stealing some of his eternal warmth.

“I’m proud of you, sweet pea” he mumbled into your hair and you pulled away just enough to place a quick kiss to his lips.

“Thank you, sweetie pie” you replied. “But let’s move this indoors, yeah? I’d like to feel my toes again.” Elias chuckled and nodded before making his way over to the exit to wait for you. You took a deep breath, loosening your knees as you pushed off and easily made your way over to him.

***

“Oh my god, Bela!” Elias groaned, eyes glued to the TV. It was a few hours later and he knew you were feeling much better after eating some takeout and curling up beneath a blanket.

“I thought you didn’t like this show” you teased from beside him. He didn’t need to glance over to know you were smirking, quite proud of yourself for finally getting him hooked on Sex Lives of College Girls.

“I don’t” he stubbornly responded. “I just think she’s doing stupid shit this season.”

“Mhm” you replied knowingly. He finally paused the TV to turn and face you, noting the amused quirk of your lips.

“I’m sorry, did you want me to stop massaging your sore ankles?” he asked, pausing his movements to raise his eyebrows at you.

“You’re no fun at all, just admit I was right and you like the show” you said, matching his stubbornness. Elias sighed, taking in the determined glint in your eye that he knew meant you weren’t going to let up, even with his empty threats.

“Fine, I’m invested in these girls’ lives and the stupid shit they get themselves into” he grumbled, loathe to prove you right but knowing you’d won this round. He was rewarded with a broad grin as you leaned up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

As much as your relationship was filled with teasing and sarcasm, it was equally grounding and comforting. Whenever Elias had a tough game, which was happening plenty this season, he knew he could call or stop by and you would know just what to say to calm him down. With every passing day together, you were becoming his home and he hoped you felt the same way.

As you pulled away, he wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you close, resting his forehead against yours. “I love you” he said quietly, not wanting to break the peace of this moment.

“And I love you” you responded “…especially when you admit I’m right.”

“Oh my god, Y/N!” he laughed, jokingly pushing you away as you cackled at his annoyance. He released a deep breath, shaking his head, as he pressed play and resumed massaging your tired ankles.

***

A few days later, you were curled up in bed totally lost in your book. You jumped slightly at the loud knocking coming from your front door, brows creasing together in confusion. You weren’t expecting anyone and the nightstand clock said it was just shy of 11PM. You got out of bed, padding to the door and peeking through the hole, only to see a frustrated looking Elias on the other side.  

“Baby?” you questioned taking in his exhausted features as you unlocked the door.

“I’m sorry, I tried calling and texting but you weren’t answering and I just, I needed to see you” he rushed out in a burst, his accent thicker than normal which was a dead giveaway he was upset.

“You don’t need to be sorry, what happened? Are you okay?” you questioned, ushering him inside.

“I’m just so frustrated and tired of this fucking season” he sighed, tossing his bag to the side and plopping down onto your couch. He cradled his head in his hands as you sat beside him, giving him a moment to gather his thoughts. “It’s like we’ll have a couple of games where things click and then everything goes to shit and the locker room is so fucking tense and it just sucks.”

“Come here” you replied quietly, gently pulling his hands away from his face and pulling him to you. He buried his face in your neck, wrapping his arms around you tightly. You rubbed his back with one hand while the other brushed through his hair in soothing patterns.

You two sat in comfortable silence as his shoulders slowly but surely loosened and his body finally fully relaxed into yours. “Have you eaten?” you questioned and he shook his head against your chest. “I’m going to put on some water for pasta, you get out of that suit and into something comfortable, yeah?”

You felt him nod and he slowly got up, placing a kiss to your forehead before trudging down to your room to change. You walked to the kitchen, finding your forgotten phone on the counter. As you waited for the pot to fill with water, you scrolled through the multiple missed FaceTime’s, calls, and texts from Elias. Each message was more frantic than the one before and your heart sank. You’d meant to have your phone with you since it was a game night but you’d lost track of time while reading.

You sighed, chastising yourself, as you placed the pot on the burner. Adrift in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Elias had returned until you felt his hands rest on your shoulders, turning you towards him.

“I’m really sorry for just showing up like this, especially so late.”

“Lias, I promise it’s okay. I’m so sorry I didn’t have my phone with me, I knew it was a game night and forgot to keep an eye on the clock…”

“And you got lost in that book of yours” he teased and you laughed, nodding.

“Yeah, that too. But I’m here now and I’m all yours” you promised, cupping his face in your hands. “I’m sorry this season is so challenging and stressful. But you can only control yourself and you’re having an amazing run, especially with all this adversity.”

He sighed sadly but nodded in agreement, “I know you’re right, it just feels so hopeless after a tough loss like tonight. And the thought of going back to my apartment alone sounded like torture.”

“Then stay here tonight” you offered and he agreed, placing a kiss to your forehead. You moved away, adding pasta to the boiling water as Elias began heating up some leftover chicken. You two moved around each other easily, slipping wordlessly into a routine you’d instinctively created together.

As Elias began eating his late dinner, you hopped up on the counter, studying your boyfriend.  You took a deep breath, sharing the thought you’d been mulling over for a month now. “What do you think about moving in together?”

Your boyfriend’s bright blue eyes shot up to meet yours, “Really?”

“Yes, really, or I wouldn’t have brought it up” you replied, nerves flooding your system at his non-answer.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you for weeks” he admitted and you felt your shoulders loosen. “Especially tonight, the whole way here I just kept thinking how much easier it would be to know that no matter how shitty my day was I’d be coming home to you.”

“Well, good thing one of us was brave enough to say something then” you teased and he rolled his eyes at you.

“Are we really doing this?” he questioned, eyes searching yours, and you nodded, smiling. He wrapped you in a tight embrace and you felt like you were already home just being in his arms.

***

“How are you feeling?” Elias asked. It was Friends and Family Skate Day and you were feeling confident given the weeks of practice you’d had.

“Good, actually, thanks to you” you admitted, bumping your hip into his making him grin down at you. “Still a little nervous about the corners but you’ll stay with me, right?”

“Of course, älskling” he promised, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead as you two reached the outdoor rink. You sat down and removed your boots as Elias unpacked his bag, taking out your skates so he could put them on for you. As Elias gently slid each of your feet in before tying them securely, you looked around, taking in the crowd. You waved at a few people you knew, your smile widening as Quinn arrived and sat next you.

“How’s the move going you two?” Quinn asked as he laced up his skates.

“Good, all my things are officially in Elias’ apartment now. Not put away yet but at least my old place is cleared out.”

“It’s not ‘Elias’ apartment’ it’s ‘our apartment’” Elias corrected, tapping your foot so you knew you were ready to go. You stood up and leaned against the boards so he could take your seat to get himself ready.

“Yes, yes our apartment, what a silly mistake for me to make” you joked, causing Elias to glare up at you while Quinn fought back a grin. “Are you able to come to the house warming party next week?”

“Yeah, can’t wait. I’ve been to Petey’s place a hundred times but now that it’s Petey and Y/N’s apartment, I’m sure it’ll blow me away” he replied and Elias shoved his friend with his shoulder.

“Very funny you two” Elias grumbled, reluctantly accustomed to you and Quinn ganging up on him.

“I’m sorry, babe, you just make it so easy to annoy you” you smiled, grabbing his hands as he rose to stand beside you. “See you out there, Huggy!”

Elias pulled you onto the ice and you skated over to Brock pulling him in to a quick hug. “How’re you doing? It’s been forever since I’ve seen you.”

“I’ve been good, you two have been crazy busy. We’ll have plenty of time to catch up at your party next week” Brock grinned at you. “Feeling good about today?”

You nodded, squeezing Elias’s hand, “Lots of training so I won’t embarrass myself too much.”

“Stop being modest, you’re going to be great” Elias corrected.

“This guy has really softened up since you two decided to move in together” Brock teased and you fought back a grin as Elias’ face flushed red.

“Drop it Brock, Quinner was already razzing him before we even got on the ice. If you two keep this up, he’ll uninvite you from the party” you threatened jokingly. Brock raised his hands in mock surrender before skating off to say hi to another teammate and their partner.

“Don’t worry, sweet pea, you’re still my big, tough, strong hockey man” you teased and Elias removed his hand from yours, skating purposefully away and towards the corner boards. “Wait come back!”

“Nope, you come here” he challenged, crossing his arms over his chest. You sent him a pout with widened eyes but he simply shook his head causing you to sigh. You took a deep breath, loosening your knees as you’d done countless times at this point.

As you skated towards the corner boards, you found you were surprisingly calm. You’d been practicing for weeks and you knew if you fell, Elias would help you up and, minus some embarrassment, you’d be okay. You glanced up to see him grinning at you and that urged your feet on a little quicker, hoping to reach him that much sooner.

As you effortlessly glided around the corners and into his arms, Elias let out a whoop of celebration as he pulled you into a tight embrace. “You did it, älskling!” he cheered, lifting you off the ice and swinging you around a few times. You laughed as he did, holding onto him as the world delightfully spun around you.

“I did it!” you repeated as he finally set you down. His eyes were bright and so full of love that you couldn’t help but pull him down for a quick kiss.   

“Better watch yourself, Pettersson, I’m coming for your job next” you joked, skating away from him. You knew he’d catch you quickly but it was worth it to make him smile. As you felt his hands grab your waist, you let out a startled laugh before dissolving into giggles as he lightly tickled your sides.

“What was that you said?” he asked, amusement obvious in his voice. You were about to relent and take it back when Elias’ weight was suddenly gone from behind you.

“Go, Y/N, go!” Brock called and you turned to see him and Quinn holding a struggling but smiling Elias back. You didn’t need to be told twice—you were off and skating, fearlessly taking each corner as it came. As you completed the full lap to pass Elias, you cheered.

“See, I did lap you after all!” you teased skating back to him as the boys finally let him go to give you high fives.

“And with no help or cheating at all, very impressive” he said sarcastically and you grinned up at him.

“Of course not, I would never” you replied and he rolled his eyes at you.

“You’re lucky I love you” Elias said, ruffling your hair.

“Don’t I know it” you agreed, wrapping an arm around his waist so you two could continue on together, arm in arm.

A/N: Thank you for reading! C, I hope you enjoyed 💕 Thank you for giving me so much freedom with what to write, I tried to infuse what you shared with me as much as possible so it felt personalized. Now, I can finally follow you! I didn’t want to ruin the surprise beforehand lol

Swedish translation (according to google):

 älskling = darling/ my love

[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.

[spunky-89]

All Power (Kol Mikaelson x Female Reader)

A/N: Woo a new fic! Cause updating or finishing old WIPs is apparently not as cool. Also, this fic is a bit of a crossover from Teen Wolf, not anything like major, just some references and such.

Word Count: 1.8 k

Warnings: None that I can think of

The air was tense in the courtyard as Kol stood protectively in front of his lover, facing off against his pain-in-the-ass hybrid brother. Elijah stood between the two trying to keep them from tearing each other apart. Freya was off to the side holding herself, feeling guilty for starting this disagreement.

“You come anywhere near her Nik and I swear it will be the last thing you do.” Kol threatened.

“I don’t like liars, especially not in the house where my daughter sleeps,” Klaus growled.

“You really think I wouldn’t make sure that my girlfriend had no ill intent towards my niece? Do you think that low of me brother?”

“Enough, both of you,” Elijah spoke, turning slightly to look at his youngest brother and his lover. “Now, would you care to share what this ruckus is all about?”

“I don’t know, ask Nik.” Kol spat, rage in his eyes.

“You stand there and make me the bad guy when it is your pet human that is lying and has been her whole time with us.” Klaus proclaimed.

“And how do you know this Niklaus?” Elijah inquired.

“Because I sensed it,” Freya spoke up, moving closer to the brewing storm.

“Sensed what Freya?” Kol snapped, becoming more and more fed up with the current situation.

“Something… off,” She tried, struggling to find the words.

“You need to do better than that sister, or else this is a waste of time because you have no grounds to accuse my girlfriend of anything.”

“Enough.” The woman came out from her position behind Kol and came to stand next to him. “Please just stop, all of you.” She requested.

“Darling?” Kol gave her a questioning look and she gave a heavy sigh.

“She isn’t wrong, I’m not human,” She started, avoiding eye contact and staring at the ground. “Well, not entirely human I should say.” She then looked to Klaus, “I’m honestly surprised you didn’t sense it. I mean typically wolves have a sense for this sort of thing.” She remarked.

“Get to the point, my patients is waning fast,” Klaus warned. As he did so, Kol took a threatening step forward, only to be stopped by a hand on his arm.

“Okay, calm down. The short version is I’m a werewolf.” The woman stated plainly.

“You can’t be, you’ve never turned on a full moon,” Kol stated, looking to his girlfriend in confusion.

“That’s because I’m a different breed and I’ve learned to control it.” She then gave a bashful smile at him and said, “I also happen to have an amazing anchor that keeps me grounded.”

“That’s it,” Klaus growled and sped at the supposed werewolf and pinned her to the wall, his eyes glowing golden. “Who are you?”

She saw Kol move to intervene but she shot him a look to let her handle this. She smirked as she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, opening them to reveal her eyes were glowing a vibrant purple, wolfish features taking over her face slightly. And before Klaus could make a comment or move, she dug her claws deep into his side and rake them upwards, causing him to release her in shock. She used that moment to roundhouse kick him away from her.

“Who am I? Well, I’m someone you really don’t want to piss off.” She huffed, fixing her clothes.

Kol was looking at her wide-eyed, never having seen her like that before. He watched in fascination as her face shifted back to the one he loved so much, though the claws on her hands didn’t disappear.

While Kol was focused on her, she was focused on Klaus. She knew she just poked the sleeping bear, or well in this case wolf. She acted casual, but she was ready for a full-fledged brawl. She heard him let out a chuckle, and her heart went icy cold. She knew that kind of chuckle. It was the kind that told her she’d just pissed him off and he was amused by her attempt to hurt him.

“That was a neat trick, love,” He said as he stood back up to his regular height. “But you’ll have to do a lot better than that if you want to hurt me.” He growled as his eyes flared and he started to rush towards the woman. Before he could even get close Kol threw him to the other side of the courtyard.

“I told you Nik, not a hair.” He seethed, standing protectively in front of his girlfriend, who was now minorly terrified and clutched onto the back of his jacket.

“Maybe I should just go,” She murmured to Kol.

“Nonsense, you are still welcome here,” Elijah promised.

Klaus had gotten up and was getting ready to argue when Elijah cut him off.

“Why don’t we give the lady the benefit of the doubt. As it stands, if she had wanted to harm any of us she’s had ample opportunities to do so and has not. We shall hear her out before we jump to any more conclusions.” He stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Everyone was slow to move, but eventually, all were gathered in the seating area.

“What do you want to know?” The woman asked, practically perched in Kol’s lap.

“First off, how is there another breed of werewolf?” Elijah asked.

“Well, there’s actually a few. I’m from the French line of werewolves, whereas your brother is of the North American breed. As far as I know, the only other breed is English wolves. But there are many different shifters out there from many cultures. Kitsune, for example, come from Japan.” She explained as best as she could.

“How is it we’ve never heard of any other wolves or shifters before?” Freya asked.

“That I am unsure of, but I’ve met loads of different shifters and other creatures. Where I come from, it’s practically a beacon for supernaturals.”

“And you can control your shifts?” Kol piped up.

“Well for the most part. The way French wolves and shifters work is that you can shift at any time, not just on the full moon. But the full moon makes us more susceptible to turning. But for older wolves, it becomes easier to control your shifts. Whereas baby wolves tend to be much more at risk of turning uncontrollably.”

She then spent the next hour or so explaining the differences between the different wolf breeds and other supernatural creatures, although she never really explained what she was. It was actually Kol that brought up the question.

“Me? Well, I’m kinda a special case. I’m a werewolf, but well, an extremely rare one. It’s why I didn’t tell you who or what I was.” She explained, clearly nervous to reveal who she was. But with one squeeze of the hand from Kol, she sighed and started speaking, “I am the twin sister of Scott McCall, the True Alpha. I am his opposite in most cases which makes us an elite team that is nearly unbeatable. So I am what is called a Compliment Alpha. Part alpha, part beta, all power. It’s why my eyes are purple. It combines the red of an alpha’s eyes and the blue of a beta’s.” She explained, once again flashing her eyes.

“Does that satisfy you Nik? Or does she have to go through her life story before you trust her?” Kol asked, seemingly done with his girlfriend being interrogated.

“I swear to you I am no threat to your family. I didn’t even know of your existence until Kol revealed who and what he was. Vampires are kinda new territory for me. This is not some evil plot to harm you or any Mikaelson. You all have become my new pack, and you don’t hurt your own pack.” She swore.

“I shall allow you to stay, but be warned little wolf, I see even the slightest hint of your inevitable betrayal and I will end you and your brother.” Klaus threatened, but instead of being scared she just gave him a smile.

“I would expect nothing less.” She teased as she stood from the couch. “But just so you know, my old pack and I are hard to kill. Trust me, many have tried, yet here I am.”

Kol stood as well and took her hand as they left for her apartment on the other end of town. He pulled her close by her shoulder and kissed her head as they walked out of the compound.

-----------

When they finally made it back to her apartment, he could see her noticeably relax.

“I have to say, darling, I’ve never seen you kick ass before but I would love to see it again,” Kol murmured as he wrapped his arms around her waist and laid kisses on her neck. She giggled and tried to push him away.

“Stooop,” She whined as she tried to wiggle out of his grip.

Kol, unfortunately, refused to let her go and held her tighter as he relished in her laughter. Moments like this were his favorite because there was just joy in the air. All troubles forgotten and burdens lifted to make room for the contentment he felt when he was with her.

The two settled down on the couch and just sat cuddled up in silence for a while. Kol was the first to break it after about half an hour.

“Would you have ever told me?” He asked, looking down at his lover who suddenly seemed very interested in the couch.

She sighed and sat up. She hated this. She knew he would eventually ask this. And she dreaded it because she didn’t have a good answer. But she knew she had to give him something.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” She started, “My identity and my secret is the reason why I ran here in the first place. The danger became too great for my brother and me to stay together. We had to separate, at least for a little while. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” She paused as she recalled the day she had to say goodbye to her mother and brother. The physical pain she felt when she got on the plane without him. “I was scared.” she admitted, “I trust you, and I wanted to tell you so many times, but…”

“But what darling? Cm’on darling, I just want to know.”

“If my identity was found out, I would have had to leave again. Which would mean leaving you. And I couldn’t- I can’t lose you too. It would break me. Shatter me to a point that I would become volatile and dangerous to those who came across me. Because my heart’s been broken a few too many times for me to be able to come back from that.” She said quietly, not realizing that tears had begun to stream down her face.

Kol pulled her back into his arms and just held her.

“I swear to you my love, no one will keep me from you. Not even my brother.” He vowed.

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. This is a window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the Italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

Wow - the response i received in a little under 24 hours since i posted the first taste of part 1 has truly bowled me over! I wasn't expecting that reaction & tbh i would have been happy if 2 people wanted to read this story hahaha! So, i've been writing in the background & the first few parts have already been proofed and are ready to go. HOWEVER! I am open to your suggestions so please please let me know what you think and how you want to see Amelia's story play out. As far as i'm concerned, this fic is as much yours as it is mine! So please enjoy this first part, in its entirety, and let me know your thoughts! Love always,

Steph xx

UPDATE as of 31/07: I've made some additional editing changes due to some feedback about the confusion between ben white (her brother) and ben chilwell (not her brother LOL). Nothing has been added to the story, just the addition of either surname has been added where i think it could be more straightforward - for future readers!

Part 1 | prima parte

warnings; none - maybe a bit of angst? (what sibling rivalry doesn't have a bit of angst)

word count; 1978 words

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Sunday 25/07 5pm AEST. Updates will be twice weekly at this stage. Probably Wednesday’s and Sundays from next week!!

link to fic masterlist here

The world of football, no matter how big it may seem, is as tight as a close-knit family. Whether its management staff, senior players, scouts, academy players, business developers, medical team, groundskeeper - everyone knows someone who knows someone else involved in the sport. For Amelia White, it was a family affair.

Having grown up with her father as a senior tactical analyst for many different clubs throughout his career, and an older brother currently playing for Brighton in the Premier League, there was no opportunity for her to escape the fanaticism of the sport. It was what her household lived and breathed, football. Most would think that, with her brother being as successful as he is now, her childhood was shadowed by her brother's success but that's not the case. She capitalised on her ability to think both logically and creatively, and absorbed all of the information her father could give her as if she was a sponge, to establish a name of her own in the sport and advance her career in the sport. At the age of 21 she upped and left the comforts of her home in West London, accepted a position at Juventus within their graduate program & worked her way up the ranks to be their youngest tactical analyst by the age of 24.

So far in her career, the support of her mother, father & brother were unmatched by any. They were all so proud of her for making her own name, proving herself and succeeding in one of the most competitive football leagues in the world. She was smart, tactful, both meticulous and ruthless in her approach to her career and the success of her players. Because after all, they were her players. She worked day in and day out, studying them and their opponents, drafting performance plans and set pieces for every possible outcome of the play, so that they could perform at their best. They had her trust and faith, and she had theirs. This is probably what her family was most proud of, and wished her every success, until she was appointed as a tactical analyst for the Italian National Team for the upcoming Euro 2020 tournament. Which happened to be the same tournament that her brother had received his call up to the Three Lions. Which was the current level at which her father was a senior tactical analyst for the English National Team. The Euro 2020 Tournament was about to be a real family affair...

10 July 2021

It had been 2 months since she last had any contact with her family. 3 months ago, Amelia signed a contract with the Federcalcio, the governing body of football in Italy, to become the Azzurri’s tactical analyst for the foreseeable European Football Championship. In turn, her silky signature at the bottom of the agreement, also constituted a digital and physical contact ban with members of her family that were also involved with the tournament...her father and her brother.

At the time of the contract, and against her better judgement, Amelia hadn’t told her family of her opportunity. She knew her father would be proud, but her brother would be bitter. Her mother was switzerland, completely neutral and rooting for both of her children - but that's not how football works. No matter your role you have a job to do, and you do everything you can to make sure it is your team that lifts the trophy at the end of the tournament. So, on May 23rd her family congratulated her for another successful season at Juventus, and unbeknownst to them, said goodbye for the next 2 months. Until the day before the final match of the tournament, Italy v. England.

Her heart dropped when England won their semi final match against Denmark. She wanted nothing more than for her brother to be happy and for her father to succeed, but she didn’t want to have to go up against them in the final. Ultimately, she knew they were good, but she also knew that she could hold her own and compete with the best. Having a close relationship with her brother, up until this period, meant that she often paid attention to the premier league. This was a major benefit to her as she had already started analysing the azzurri’s opponents. It was her job to know what foot Raheem Sterling preferred to pass with, what direction Declan Rice preferred to take the ball up the field, what direction of receiving the ball did Harry Maguire struggle the most with. So that's how she spent the three days between matches, solidifying her knowledge of her opponents & predicting the plays her dad would be instructing the English team to complete, to attempt to outperform the Italians. However nothing would prepare her for the knock on her suite door, or for what was on the other side…

_____________________________________________________________

“Ciao Amelia, vieni con me per favore. abbiamo organizzato una visita supervisionata con tuo fratello prima della finale di domani sera. sorpresa!” (hi amelia, come with me please. we have arranged a supervised visit with your brother prior to the final tomorrow night. surprise!). I stood there in shock staring at one of my players & closest friends, Federico Bernardeschi. I was a person who didn't enjoy spontaneity, who thrived off of preparation and organisation. I needed the opportunity to overthink every situation so that I could prepare for every possible outcome. This was not my idea of a good time. Of course I missed my brother, but I know just how volatile he can be. Nevertheless, I grabbed my jacket and shoved my sneakers on before following Fede down the hall and into a blacked out van that was waiting to take me to St. George’s Park for my family reunion.

Upon arriving, and after a stern pep talk from Fede (who was my appointed supervisor for the visit - not sure I would say he was the most responsible choice but he did talk some sense into me) I walked into the main entrance and saw my father leaning against the reception desk waiting for me.

“Papa!!” I called as I walked over to him, ready to smother him with my love and affection. My father, Dean White, and I had as good of a relationship as possible, being that he was always heavily involved with my brother Ben’s footballing career as well as his own. I think when I came along, my father didn't know how to be a girl dad, so he took my mothers advice and just involved me like he would Ben. I was glad that I would be seeing him first, and he would be taking me to see my no-doubt pissed off brother.

“Dad, this is Fede, one of my players”

“Ciao Dean, it’s very nice to meet you but i am also her bodyguard for this evening” Fede introduced himself to my father and they exchanged pleasantries. I had a look around the foyer of the facility until I heard my name brought up in conversation.

“Amelia, come on. The boys are just over here. I don’t think you have long before heading back to your camp” My dad called to me. Boys? As in...more than just my brother?

“Hahaha that's funny dad, just show me to his room and we can have our screaming match there. Should only be about 20 or so minutes”

“Ben’s not in his room, we have a recreation room for the players and staff to lounge about and relax in. Pretty sure he’ll be in there. Come on, you’ve never been scared of your brother before. Why start now?” Before I knew it, Dad was leading us through some doors and into a large common area with bean bags, pool tables and couches - all occupied by current first team members of the English National Football team.

“Dean mate, don’t normally see you down here after 7pm. Oh look at that, someone let the trash in.” A loud mouthed player, that I used to adore as if he was my own brother, calls out as he notices us enter the room. And just like that, I shake off my nerves, stand in front of my taller & more argumentative bodyguard, relax my shoulders and stare into the eyes of Kyle Walker - daring him to challenge me and push me further.

“Relax Kyle, Benjamin White - your sister is here to see you.” Dad cut Kyle off. I didn’t need him to defend me against Kyle’s harsh comments, I could defend myself.

“Wow, I thought hell would freeze over before I got the opportunity to speak to you. Of course, I didn't realise hell would look quite like seeing you in that shade of blue.” My brother, Ben, spoke bitterly at me as he approached me from the other side of the room. This, coupled with Walker’s exclamation earlier, got the attention of the majority of the players scattered about.

“Ben, if you let me explain in private I'm sure you will be able to understand why things had to be this way” I tried to reason with him. Letting go of my always-defensive guard and pleading with my big brother to open his mind to see my side of the story.

“As if I would even talk to you right now, the night before the final, you’re probably here to try and get some insider information. Boys make sure you don’t say anything to her, she’s as sly as they come” Ben’s words were as sharp as a knife - but I knew what I had to say would cut him deeper.

“Ok that's enough! You are ridiculous! What did you expect me to do? Not take the job because you’re my brother? This is my career we are talking about here” I challenged him. “If you think for one second i stopped supporting you then you must be even more stupid than i thought. Of course this isn't the ideal situation, I'm proud of you for reaching a final but I'm just as proud of myself for doing the same thing.” I got progressively closer to my brother, who stood there with his hands beside himself, unable to get a word in.

“I came tonight to wish you good luck, to tell you I loved you, to give you a hug and tell you to stay safe and play smart. Whilst I still wish all of this for you, I now want you to know that I want you to play your best so I can be better than you. I can show you exactly how good at my job I am. I want you to know that no matter what way you play the ball, I'll be right there waiting for you. I am prepared for this, I hope you are too - so that it will feel that much more sweet when we beat you” I sneered at my older brother, who at this point, is quite visibly feeling a mixture of shock and embarrassment.

I take a step back, let out a breath and shake the tension from my shoulders. Breaking eye contact with my brother, I look briefly - yet confidently - at the other players in the room and take a step back. I turned to my dad, who was looking at me solemnly, as though he wasn’t happy with my outburst but understood it came from a place of frustration with my sibling. Walking up, giving him a kiss on the cheek and wishing him luck, I turned to look at Fede and began to walk to the door. This interaction with my brother, although supposed to be a nice moment shared between siblings, has only gone and motivated me to be at my best tomorrow, to prepare my players to go to war and to come out the other side victorious.

Part 2 | seconda parte

[allandoflimbo]

Ashens (Part 25)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1.7K

A/N: These next two chapters will be on the shorter side, but that’s because these are full speed now. It’s about to happen. Or should I say, it is happening.

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

Sometimes, pregnancies can go undetected.

1 1/2 months later 

(4 Months and 2 Weeks Into Mission)

They were moments like these.

You waved the spoon around in front of Bucky’s face.

“Come on, taste it!” 

He gave you a playful smile, the edges of his eyes crinkling up into two narrow slits.

“No! How will I know you didn’t poison it?” He asks.

You give him a glare, your hand still in the air hovering the spoon near his lips.

“Seriously?”

He squints one eye at you. You see the twitch in his lips the moment he decides to finally give in.

“Fine.” 

You watch as he leans in, and the heat that unravels in you core shocks you as you watch him wrap his lips delicately around the silver object. A soft moan leaves his throat as he pulls back and his eyes close together.

You swallow thickly, eyes flickering up to try to meet his.

There’s a long pause from him before he opens his eyes and they meet yours.

He smiles wide. His smile is genuine and full of heart.

“And?” You ask hesitantly. He lets out a heartfelt laughter that fills you heart with joy, catching you completely off guard as he takes you unexpectedly in his arms for a half turn. He tickles you on your side making you laugh, “Bucky, what the hell?” 

He continues to hold you to him until his breathing evens out. You feel the brush of his fingers on your back.

His hold doesn’t falter for even a second.

“It’s amazing.” He says softly. 

You’re amazing. He thinks.

You let out another chuckle when he gives you one more tickle for added effect. 

You finally push him away by his shoulders.

“Stop,” you say with a smile. He’s still chuckling and grinning when he lets you go and turns back to the pot with the spoon still in his hand that he had snatched from you earlier. He dunks it back into the pot and you quickly reach to stop him, “Hey! I said just one!”

“Just one more.”

“Not yet. We’re going to eat together.” You tell him quietly, taking the spoon from him. 

+ +

Precious moments.

You were both facing each other criss cross on the floor, giggling. 

Each of you sat with your back against each of the sofas, in between you a bowl of dry cereal.

Bucky made fun of you at first for it, but then he started to get used to your unusual cravings. He didn’t mind it if it made you happy.

Bucky throws his head back against the seat of the couch, a few cereals in his flesh hand.

“I don’t know what I even would’ve done as a carreer. It’s weird never even having a chance to think about something like that.” He says.

You squint your eyes at him.

“Strangely, I don’t know what you would’ve been either.”

He lifts his head back up and gives you a fake and mocking smile, which makes you shoot him a real one.

“Thanks.” He says sarcastically and with a chuckle.

You push the bowl a little farther away from you, making room for you to bend your legs, hugging them against your chest. 

Bucky stretches forward to grab more cereals.

“What options were you going to apply for?” He asks.

 “Brown or NYU.” You answer, “You know, there was a college by my friend’s house that they used to call Slutgers.”

Bucky raises a brow at this.

“What the fuck?” He can’t help the laugh that escapes him as he asks. 

“Yeah, long story. That wasn’t the real name, though.”

“Imagine if we had gone to college together.” His voice is lower, a little more serious.

Your eyes meet intensely across the floor. You watch as his eyes dart over your face, lingering over the tip of your nose and to your lips.

“You would’ve been my professor, and that would have been awkward.” You say quietly.

“Nah, I mean if I was born the same year as you and not when I had been born.”

You swallow thickly and your eyes meet.

+++

Then there were those moments. 

You were happy, you told yourself. You were. It wasn’t that you need the reassurance, so much as the reminder.

At times, especially during the nights, you often felt empty or like there was something missing. You felt like something had been left open ended but you just weren’t sure.

Those moments came when you were washing a cup in the sink and you looked over to see Bucky ranting about something cute Ashens did the day before, giving you a huge smile.

It came when Bucky would give you that look he’s been giving you the last few months. The ones the made you want to kiss him or hit him, because it wasn’t platonic or innocent at all. You hated that he still made you doubt how he really felt about you and you hated that you had a feeling that you think he had feelings for you, but he wouldn’t say anything.

It was moments like those that you found yourself thinking about Bucky again when you both knew you had moved on.

Right?

You were happy.  You were happy with Pietro. But why couldn’t you still stop thinking about Bucky?

You think about him on your walk to Pietro’s place. You always do. 

You’re thinking about him now. Right now you’re having those thoughts: What if he did have feelings for me?

You and Pietro are on the couch talking about each other’s days when he leans down and gives you a slow kiss. It’s soft.

“I really like you, Y/N.” You blinked up at him, “And no, I still won’t ask why you use two names. I know there’s more to you than meets the eye, but I’m willing to dive in and discover it all.” You could feel the brush of thus thumb against your jaw and it makes you swallow hard, “if you let me.”

You reach up to touch his hand, letting it rest over his on your face.

What if he did have feelings for me?

Even if he did, he was doing nothing about it. He didn’t care enough.

And so the cycle continued.

+++

Maybe this was the moment. 

The one.

Bucky brought you along this time to meet Ashens, and the little boy is everything Bucky made him out to be.

Their interaction leaves you feeling warm inside. There’s also this undeniable feeling to want to nurture him. To take him into your arms and protect him.

Both of you.

You introduce yourself by telling him your Bucky’s friend. He asks if you’re an Avenger and you say no.

There’s a solum silence between the three of you and your heart squeezes tightly as you watch Bucky ruffle the boys head, bringing him into his chest for a tight hug.

“It’s different this time, isn’t it?” The little boy asks, his hands going to Bucky’s shirt, grasping the cotton there desperately. 

You watch as Bucky swallows hard, his eyes holding a kind of sadness you’ve never seen before.

You didn’t even know, but that was the moment that did it for him.

Bucky closed his eyes and hugged the boy tighter.

“We are going to talk to you about something important, is that okay?” He whispers.

The boy nods.

You both talk to him. You tell him what is appropriate for him to know, without scaring him. Bucky does most of the talking as you both now kneel down next to Ashens, you holding his hand. “Do you know the kind of man your father is?” You ask slowly, meeting Bucky’s eyes, “I know he’s a bad guy.” Ashens says quietly, “I know." “You said you trust us.” Bucky’s statement is not formed into a question. “Yes.” “He’s part of Hydra.” Bucky tells him and Ashens nods.

You continue to watch Bucky, knowing that this needs to be this direct. No sugar coating.

You can’t tell little Ashens’ fear, you can sense it as his hold on your hand tightens and you feel your throat closing up.

You bring him into you, placing your chin on top his little head. Bucky watches you, enthralled, and he wonders if you feel this, too.

This connection, this undeniable moment of pure connection.

He wants to kiss you so much. God, he wants to.

He leans his own chin on Ashens’ head until yours and Bucky’s faces are only inches apart. 

Ashens cries softly in fear and Bucky leans down, kissing the top of his head. Bucky raises his head back up and you feel it too.

The connection. This moment.

This was the moment that Bucky realized that what he felt for you was true love.

This wasn’t infatuation and this wasn’t anything small.

He was in love with you.

You didn’t know but you could see the moment something happens inside of him and that’s when you knew he had feelings for you.

It wasn’t your imagination.

And it made you sad and angry all at the same time. “In about a month, we’re going to ask you to do something and you’re going to have to trust us,” Bucky continues to tell the little boy, not looking away from you, “We are here to save you.”

If you have feelings for me, why aren’t you doing anything about it? Why are you being this way? Was I right the entire time? 

Your thoughts run around in your head.

Bucky’s eyes goes to your lips and he wants to cry.

Instead, he just closes his eyes, brings his hand to your head and leans his forehead on yours.

For just a few minutes you let him. The three of you are in this tight embrace, a symbol of trust and love.

You could feel Bucky’s thumb rub against your scalp tenderly and you swallowed the tears that laid in your throat, begging to escape. 

You had been right. 

He’s had feelings for you all this time.

And you were angry.

+ + +

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[shintorikhazumi]

How To Grow A Family Tree|Chapter 1: Plant A Little Seed Called Love

A/N: Ooh~ My second genshin fic. Please don’t sue me for the bad writing ;-; I just wanna brainrot, yknow? 

I must be an idiot for writing a new fic. I’ll get back to Teyvat sad girls in a bit.

AU where almost everyone’s family who passed in canon is alive. Except Sara’s biological fam. Sorry bby. Oh and maybe Ei’s parents cause who are they. Basically Sara meets the (future) in-laws. Kinda mixed modern fantasy (because they keep their non human traits) stuff ig.

This one’ll be eimikosara yeet~

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

 Chapter 1: Plant A Little Seed Called Love

Sara had never known love.

No, not when she’d been orphaned at an age where she barely remembered a thing. Not when she’d been taken in, only to be constantly shut out of a ‘family’ that could not make it any clearer that they wanted nothing to do with her unless it was to turn her into their profit-earning horse.

When she’d been given a name, she almost thought she’d know love; but even that was a misconception on her part.

Sara did not know love. Not when her father seemed to take pleasure in the constant ‘discipline’ he dished out on her: small slaps on the wrists, kneeling for hours on grainy sand from sunrise ‘til nightfall, shoveling snow, chopping wood, learning all forms of martial arts for hours on end before coming home to study until her candles were all out of wax, leading to her sleeping on the thin mat with equally thin blankets keeping her alive throughout the night.

No, she knew not love. Not when her brothers had spared her no moment of attention, affection, or siblingship. Not when Masahito forbade her from ever using the dojo while he was around and never speaking a word to her ever. Not when Kamaji hadn’t even invited her to his own wedding. Sara was fifteen, for crying out loud, and they had been living in the same house at the time!

(She remembered sobbing silently to herself as she spent the night of the supposed reception alone, poring over high school examination results that her father deemed not good enough and were up for review.)

She knew not love when she noticed them walking in on one of her ‘penalty sessions’ with her father, and felt her heart shatter into shards that tore at her from within when they turned a blind eye and walked away, closing the door behind them.

 Kujou Sara had not known love.

At least not until she’d been adopted into her best friend’s home at seventeen, Ayaka no longer being able to stomach the stories Sara would unwittingly share when she was too tired out to evade Ayaka’s very leading line of questions from time to time. That and Ayaka had caught Sara in a nightmare once, and from what Yoimiya had later told her, the little heiress had turned restless for many a night thinking about Sara’s predicament. She had searched countless ways and tried numerous methods of convincing until her parents finally saw for themselves and agreed that it was too dangerous for Sara to be left in that house.

The Kamisato family had always been disgusted by the Kujous, so much so that they had initially not wanted Ayaka anywhere near the youngest daughter of the clan, even shunning Sara from their door the first time Ayaka had invited her over despite being known as a welcoming and nonjudgmental family.

It could have been an overreaction, but it was just that difficult to give Kujou Takayuki and any of his kin the benefit of the doubt.

But then Ayaka begged and pleaded, and a toothy-grinned Yoimiya tried to bribe them with custom fireworks, and surprisingly, even Thoma quietly requested Ayato and the Kamisato parents to give Sara a chance to just come in, sit with them and… be.

 They should have not been able to trust a Kujou.

But Kujou Sara… she was sweet, and lovely, and an awkward, clumsy little thing. She was overly courteous, spoke stiffly like a soldier, but was clearly very kind. Earnest and genuine, Ayaka knew her parents had fallen in love (if Sara eating at their house three times a week despite the Kujou clan’s known strictness was any indicator. Ayaka did not know how her parents got permission to whisk Sara away, though she was glad they did).

So when Sara showed up at their doorstep at half-past three in the morning, battered and bruised, the skin over her eye bloodied shut; when they had discovered the surprising treasure that was Sara’s heritage, cruelly marred, tattered, and tainted- Ayaka and Miss Kamisato had shed tears at the state of her supposedly majestic wings- the family knew enough was enough.

It took all of Thoma’s power to rip the sword out of Ayato’s clenched hands before the men of the house rushed for the police station to have the Kujou’s apprehended and possibly sentenced to long, long years in hell.

 Her adoption was surprisingly quick, and without much problem, possibly due to the large influence of the Kamisatos in general.

A few hiccups were met on the road, but then… finally, then. Sara knew love.

She knew love the moment she woke up past her usual hellish five-AM wake up call to her new sister who greeted her good morning from the opposite end of their now-shared room, who brushed her crazy morning bedhead before handing her a fluffy pair of slippers, gently taking her by the hand and leading her down the stairs for breakfast.

Kamisato Kayo had once more cried for the child Sara could not be as she tried to tell the girl that it was okay for her to eat at the table with everyone, at the same time, just as they always did when Sara came over for dinners. No, she did not have to ‘serve’ them their meals and wait for them to finish first. No, she was not ‘unworthy’ of seating at the ‘master’s table’.

She tried not to let the young tengu see her tears when she’d been told that her favorite breakfast food was onigiri, and nothing could compare. Well, because she had nothing to compare it to.

Thoma and Kayo had prepared her so many items that morning that Ayaka had complained for Sara that she would get bloated if they kept piling more food onto the overwhelmed girl’s plate.

Yes. Sara knew love when breakfast was mixed with warm miso soup and a mother’s affection.

Sara knew love when each time she’d have to head out to anywhere with Ayaka or Thoma, someone would bid her farewell by the door. When it was Mrs. Kami- her mother (Sara had to get used to that), she’d always be sent off with a lingering hug and a kiss to the forehead for safety.

She always did feel the effect was true, believing it even more every time she was able to return to that warmth unscathed.

 Sara knew love when she finally returned to school and heard no whispers nor rumors about her despite the obvious public trial her formed adoptive father had for more crimes than the ones committed against her.

Maybe it was because someone had kept people’s mouths shut around her, or everything was simply drowned out by the sunshine of Yoimiya’s presence as she tackled her and welcomed her back before taking her to morning archery practice.

 Sara knew love when she finally mustered up the courage to befriend the clever Miss Kuki from her class after much encouragement from Yoimiya and Ayaka. Sara had grown up with an appreciation for dioramas, and how perfect the world in them seemed to be compared to her own shabby and grey one.

When Miss Kuki had brought one such well-crafted piece for a school event, Sara had yearned to befriend her and have her teach a thing or two.

With time and much-needed help, Sara managed to strike up a conversation with the shorter girl, who, by their next meeting, had given Sara a package the size of a shoebox.

Upon opening it, Sara had bolted toward the restrooms, gift caught by the giver, and worry on all her friends’ faces. They had given chase and found her crying in a stall, muttering apologies and thank you’s.

“M-m-my s-sincerest apologies, Miss K-Kuki… I was just a little… overwhelmed.”

Her friends collectively heaved sighs of relief as they waited for her to calm down before returning to the classroom to appreciate the gorgeous diorama of one beautiful crow in the prettiest Sakura garden Sara had never visited. (Shinobu claimed it existed and would take her there someday if she wanted.)

 Sara knew love when she came home and shakily showed her new parents her imperfect test results: a ninety-eight, and got the firmest hug and many, many kisses on the head for it. She was called brilliant, a good child.

“Thank you for working so hard, Sara. We love you.”

Sara cried for the love she got to know.

 A/N: There will be chapter 2 because SARA WILL HAVE A BIG BIG FAMILY, JUST WATCH ME. YES. I’M BITTER ABOUT KAMAJI. NO LOOK, I’M ALL FOR KUJOU SIBLING FLUFF AND SOLIDARITY, and I was super hopeful during Ei’s story quest when we met kamaji. But the times he talked about the “Kujou family” he only kept mentioning his dad or masahito, and never Sara. Like…??? Hello? :<

I’ll probably make a sweeter Kujou fam story in the future.

Ciao for now~

~Shintori Khazumi

[ladydimitrescuspet]

What About What I Want? Chapter 5

AO3 link! sorry for the really long wait for this update! I've been so focused on other fics and honestly I've been thinking this story was a bit shit for a while so I was dragging out updating it! but it turns out it's decently written and that sparked a little inspiration in me! I hope y'all enjoy and let me know what you think if you'd like to! and apologies for any grammatical errors, I hope they're not too hard to figure out if y'all find any!

warnings: slightly nsfw

Tag List (only fill out the form once please): @lord-dimitrescu, @alwaysgoodnight, @paint-it-periwinkle, @lightspica, @ultimatebottom69, @sexyheisenbeast, @crazy-obsessed, @squid3, @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu, @the-obscurity, @sapphicalciee, @ladydimitresculove, @solemnnova, @itsyourgirlmalise, @the-little-shadow, @marvelwomen-simp, @rachelthefanfictionwriter, @d14n4ol, @peachesandlesbians, @celina1221, @theuselesslezbian｜Anna, @Gansito83, @Followingmyheartledmetoyou, (won’t tag, idk why)

-----

"Fuck, Al, I think I'm gonna cum. Again." You moaned, Alcina letting out a small chuckle at your words.

Alcina pressed her nose into your neck. "Again, you say?" She murmured into your neck as you fucked yourself on her cock. "Maybe we should take a break after this one, yes?"

"Mhmm," You agreed, biting your lip as your orgasm began building up. "Alcina, please, I'm so close. Please, please. Please bite me." You begged.

Alcina placed her hands on your hips as she slammed into you. "Not. Right. Now." You started whining nonsense at her. "Shush, draga mea. Now cum for me." Alcina grunted out as she pressed kisses to your neck, then your jaw, before finally claiming your lips in a heated kiss as your orgasm washed over you. The moans that you allowed her mouth to swallow sending her over the edge with you.

You smiled at her when the two of you finally broke the kiss. "So this is our life for a day and a half? Fucking the life out of each other?" You gave her another kiss before climbing off her. You let out a small sigh as you stretched, hissing at how sore you were. "Miranda wouldn't happen to have a shower here, would she?" You asked as you paced around slightly.

Alcina hummed. "Just the emergency chemical shower, I think." Alcina replied. "Perhaps we can take one together, save some time?" Alcina suggested as she got off the bed.

You looked at her with watery eyes. "I changed my mind. Does she have a bath here?" You asked. Alcina nodded her head. "Good. Can we... can we just relax for a moment? Together, I mean."

"Of course, darling." Alcina replied as she pulled you in for a hug. "We can do that. And we can end the ceremony right after, if you want."

You shook your head. "No, no, there's only a few hours left. I just... I just need a moment." You murmured into her stomach. Alcina nodded her head and picked you up, taking you into an adjoining room. When the bath was filled, she lowered you in before getting in behind you. You sighed as you leaned against her chest. "Alci, I'm scared." You said quietly after a few moments.

“What’s got you scared, love?” Alcina asked. She pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Is it the ceremony?”

You nodded your head. “A bit.” You replied. “And something else.” Alcina pressed small kisses to your neck as you continued speaking. “There was this woman, this old woman. And she, well she… Alcina, please,” You whined.

“I’m sorry, darling.” Alcina apologised, pressed one more kiss to your forehead. “Continue.”

“Thank you.” You replied. You’d managed to calm yourself down to be able to speak once more. “The woman, she told me that Miranda was going to take our child.” The words made you feel sick. “If the baby is fit to be a vessel for her dead daughter, she’s going to take our baby from us. And I can’t….. Alcina, I can’t let her, I won’t let her.”

Alcina stayed quiet as she mulled your words over. “If that’s how it’s to be, draga mea, then who are we to deny Mother Miranda something that will benefit her?” Alcina asked.

You went stiff against her. “You can’t be serious, Alcina.” You said as you pushed yourself away from her to look at her. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’d just give our baby to her without question?”

“If it’s what she wants, yes.” Alcina replied.

You scoffed at her in disbelief. “And what about what I want, Alcina? Does what I want not matter? Does it not hold a fucking candle to Miranda and whatever the fuck she’s going to do with my child?” You asked. “This ceremony, it’s over. I cannot and will not be a part of some experiment to produce the perfect vessel for her dead daughter. I thought you cared about me, but now I know exactly where your loyalty lies.” You stood up from the bath.

“Darling, please, it’s… not here, we’ll talk about it at the castle.” You nodded your head as Alcina exited that bath with you, pulling you into her as she kneeled down to be level with you. “We can’t truly discuss this here. Miranda has eyes and ears everywhere, but when I said my family comes first, I meant that. And I promise you that no harm will befall our little one.” Alcina whispered into your ear.

You melted into her embrace. “Do you truly mean that? You won’t… you won’t go back on your promise?” You asked as you clung to her.

Alcina nodded her head as she picked you up and carried you back to the bed, putting you down gently before kissing you. “I promise with my whole heart that I won’t let her harm you.” She pressed kisses down your body until she got to your belly button. “Or you, little one. Mama’s going to keep you safe, you have my word.”

You let out a soft laugh as she pressed kisses all over your belly, your fingers finding her hair. You let out a soft moan as Alcina’s kisses got closer and closer to your sex. “Alci,” Alcina hummed as she breathed in your scent, her mouth watering. “Alcina, please,”

Alcina pressed the flat of her tongue against you before swiping up. “You taste so marvellous, my love.” Alcina whispered against you. You let out a whine when she crawled back up your body, giving you more kisses before she finally reached your face. “Te iubesc.”

You smiled at her before cupping her cheeks and kissing her. “I love you too.”

***

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” You screamed.

Daniela looked over at Alcina. “Mother, is Y/N alright?” Daniela asked.

“They’re fine.” Alcina said, patting her daughter’s hand reassuringly. “I think. I’ll go check on them. You tell your sisters that dinner will be ready in a bit.” Daniela swarmed off at her Mother’s instructions. “Darling, are you alright? Daniela’s a bit worried about you.”

“That bitch called.” Alcina raised her eyebrow. “Miranda, she called. She wants to… she wants to see how we’re doing, how the baby is doing.” You placed your hand over our belly, protectively.“I don’t want her here, Alcina.”

Alcina sighed. “There really is nothing I can do to stop her from coming to the castle, my love.” Alcina replied as she walked over to you. “It’s been two months since the last time she was over here and Mother Miranda assured me that she didn’t want to use our baby as her vessel, the thought never even crossed her mind.”

“But she could’ve been lying to you, Alcina. Lying to me.” You sighed as you leaned into her. “I don’t trust her, I can’t.” You shook your head with a small sniffle. Alcina leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Alright. I’ll delay Miranda’s visit to the castle as long as I can, but she will have to see the baby at some point. To make sure it’s healthy.” Alcina said.

“I know, I know, but… Can’t Donna do it? I trust her.” You replied.

“Donna can do some things, but there are…other things that Miranda will need to do when examining the child that Donna can not.” Alcina responded. “Just one examination, dear, that’s all she has to do until the baby is born. Is that okay with you?”

You frowned. “Just the one?” Alcina nodded her head and you sighed. “If it’s only the one. And you have to promise to stay in the room, please.” You grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

“Of course, darling. And Donna can do the rest of the examinations and then Miranda will do the one after our little one is here. Sound like a plan, my love?” Alcina asked. You nodded your head, not trusting your words. “Good, good. Now, dinner is almost ready and I’m sure the girls are bickering like they always are when I’m not around. Shall we?” Alcina offered you her hand and you took it.

“You really don’t think Miranda will take the baby once it’s born? Or during the examination?” You asked as she led you to the dining room.

“Darling, listen. I’ll say it as many times as I have to, I won’t let anything happen to our child. And I’m sure the girls would say the same things. Right, girls?” Alcina asked as the two of you entered the room. The two of you got a chorus of “Yes, of course, Mother,” from them and it made you smile a bit. “There’s that gorgeous smile of yours, my love. I promise, our baby is safe and nothing will happen.”

You let out a deep breath, nodding your head. “I’m sure you’re right.” You said.

Dinner went by quickly and soon you found yourself in Alcina’s study, sitting in her lap. “The old woman mentioned something else.” You said softly as you played with Alcina’s curls. She hummed. “Mentioned that if the baby wasn’t to Miranda’s standards that a few years from now, she’d find her perfect vessel.”

“Hmm, is that so?” Alcina asked. You nodded your head. “Then we really have nothing to worry about, yes? I doubt a baby born into the Dimitrescu family will serve as a perfect vessel. I mean, I was a… failure of her experimentations. As were Karl, Donna, and Salvatore.” Alcina replied as she did some paperwork. You opened your mouth to reply, but Alcina spoke again first. “That’s enough talk of this for right now. You need your rest, as does our child. You’re free to fall asleep right here, but if you’d be more comfortable in the room, I can have Helena take you to our chambers." Alcina suggested.

You shook your head. "No, I want to stay with you. You can carry me to the room once you've finished here." You said as you snuggled into her. Alcina chuckled, but pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

"Very bold of you to assume that I would do such a thing, little one." Alcina teased. When you didn't respond, Alcina noted that your breathing had started to even out indicating that you were asleep. "Sweet dreams, iubirea mea." Alcina whispered before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

[winterscaptain]

advocate.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: the very first part of ajf! the beginning of our story! oh my goodness! this got a little long, but there was a lot i wanted to pack in here. thank you all for your patience as i worked through this <3 i’ve got some fun graphics in here for you - open them for best quality!

words: 8.45k warnings: language, alcohol use, canon-typical descriptions of injury and violence, mention of suicide

summary: “our ambition should be to rule ourselves, the true kingdom for each one of us; and true progress is to know more, and be more, and to do more.” - oscar wilde. au!july-september 2007

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

“Director Shepard?” 

You approach her, feeling very young, with a question and a smile. 

She turns, smiling at you softly. “Yes?”

Her lecture was immaculate - she covered a broad swath of topics - being the first female director of NCIS, her history in international relations and liaison work with British and Israeli intelligence - all of which paved a bit of a roadmap for success in federal law enforcement. 

You introduce yourself and shake her hand. “I’ve gotta tell you it was a challenge to choose between agencies in my applications, I admire your work both as an agent and director of NCIS and I was wondering…” 

You lose your nerve a bit, but steel yourself again and ask. 

“... Would you be willing to meet with me and talk about your career trajectory a little more?”

There’s a light in her eyes as she studies you with a kind of supreme benevolence and gentleness. “I would.” 

+++

“Alright,” she says, setting her napkin in her lap. “What do you want to know?” 

You laugh a little, “Is everything a good place to start?”

She laughs, and you’re immediately drawn to her warmth. There’s a kind of fire in her, and it doesn’t just come from her hair. “Not at all. Though I’ll give you some unsolicited advice now, to save some time. Find someone you can follow, someone you can learn from.”

She goes on to tell you about her mentor, still on the Major Case Response Team under her purview at NCIS. Though she’s his boss now, she tells you that she still goes to him for advice, for friendship. 

“Trusting the people you work with always comes first. It’s not always possible, but when you can manage it. It makes everything better. Always protect them where you can, and don’t ignore the politics”

You do everything except take notes as she tells more stories, how she’s switched from “probie” to Agent to diplomat to Director, before she turns back to you. 

“Do you know which unit you’re interested in, yet?” 

You shake your head. “Not yet. I’m hoping I’ll have a better idea when the Quantico unit chiefs start coming in to lecture. I’m hoping one of them will catch my interest.”

“Great idea. When one of them does, give me a call. I think any unit could benefit from someone like you.”

+++

Agents Hotchner, Morgan, and Gideon have your attention the moment they step into the room. They’re confident, with a sharp kind of intelligence you admire. 

The world of the BAU is fascinating. Serial killers, sex criminals, the very worst of depraved humanity is their everyday. While it sounds somewhat horrifying, it compels you. 

Agent Hotchner especially catches your attention. He’s confident in a kind of serious, bladed way. Clearly intelligent, he commands the attention of everyone in the room and effortlessly wields his authority among curious students and his fellow agents. 

You’d think Agent Gideon would be the obvious leader, what with all his years of experience and seniority, but even with his grasp of a field he shaped, he doesn’t hold a candle to Hotchner. 

With your half-hour-old knowledge, you put together a quick profile of the remaining figure. 

Agent Morgan, while strong and clearly an alpha male, brings a skepticism with him. It hangs in the air around him and seems to apply to both of his colleagues. There’s something about Agent Gideon that makes him uneasy, distrustful. He tends to shift his weight away from him when they get too close to each other. 

He’s not overt about his skepticism regarding Agent Hotchner, but you get the idea there’s more under the surface you couldn’t possibly know just by studying his behavior in a lecture hall. 

This is fun. 

You hide your smile in your notebook, jotting down a couple of notes as Agent Gideon continues his “brief overview of profile-driven serial killer arrests.” 

+++. 

“Director Shepard’s office.”

“Hi Cynthia,” you greet her secretary. “Is Director Shepard in?”

She connects you, and you ask about the BAU. 

“Is Jason Gideon still the unit chief over there?” She asks. You can already hear her typing and you’re more than a little concerned about her tenacity in this moment. 

“No, ma’am, it’s Agent Hotchner, now.”

“Perfect.”

+++

+++

You’re called into SSA Radner’s office the following Monday to “discuss some changes to your academy courses.” 

That doesn’t sound good. 

SSA Radner, an imposing and intimidating woman, is the SSAIC in charge of your NAT class - the person in charge of your collective fates. 

No pressure. 

She opens the door when you knock, gesturing to the chair on the other side of her desk. “Please, have a seat.” 

You chuckle nervously. “Thanks, Agent Radner.” You note her little smile as she sits at her desk, and chance a question. “Have I done something, I dunno, wrong? We don’t seem to find much good news in the SAIC’s office at my rank.” 

That pulls a laugh from her. “I wouldn't worry too much. I have a proposition for you. It’s...unusual, but not unheard of.” 

Your brow crumples a little and she exhales. 

“It might actually be better if - yeah. Hold on.” She clicks her intercom and her assistant chirps from the other side. 

“Yes ma’am?”

“Please send them in. I’d like to do a joint briefing.” 

Joint briefing? What is this, the third invasion of Iraq?

The door opens behind you and you whip around, finding Agent Hotchner and IOS Section Chief Erin Strauss. 

What the fuck? 

Either you’ve done something terrible or insane and you’re not sure which. 

Chief Strauss addresses you first, shaking your hand. You introduce yourself for good measure but have a feeling she already knows who you are. 

“It’s come to our attention that you have ambitious interests and are taking exceptional steps to make the most of your education and training at the academy. Is this a fair assessment?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Agent Hotchner steps forward, sort of looming over you with something that isn’t quite a stern look. You take his hand when he offers, introducing yourself and ignoring the jolt of energy that shoots up your arm at his touch. 

His handshake is firm, his hands dry and warm. He looks different up close, younger, maybe. There’s the barest touch of grey at his temples, the beginnings of lines around his mouth and eyes. 

Not what I expected.

What did you expect? 

How old could he be? Thirty-five, maybe? 

Shut up. 

He’s handsome. 

Shut up!

His face relaxes a little bit before he speaks. “Director Shepard, a close professional colleague, has been a staunch advocate for you and your talents. She approached me about taking you on, giving you case hours in lieu of some coursework.” 

“You’d have some catching up to do, as it’s already three weeks into your twenty, and we’d transfer you into the profiling classes,” Agent Radner adds. “But with your diligence, I doubt you’ll have trouble with the added workload.” 

“No, ma’am. That should be fine. But,” you look between the three of them, “what does ‘case hours in lieu of some coursework’ mean, exactly?” 

“You’d be on assignment with the BAU until you received your formal assignment following successful completion of the academy, with the possibility of assignment with the BAU as a full-fledged agent.” Chief Strauss rattles off the information as if it’s the thousandth time she’s said it. 

It might be. 

You can’t even fathom how much effort and time must have gone into this decision. The realization leaves you speechless. 

She prompts you again. “Does that sound like an opportunity in which you’d be interested?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am.” You feel a little stupid, but you’re rewarded with a proud smile from Agent Radner. 

You could also swear you saw a twitch of Agent Hotchner’s lips, but he doesn’t seem to be a man who smiles much. 

+++

“So this’ll be your desk,” Agent Jennifer-but-my-friends-call-me-JJ Jareau says, pointing to one of the many desks in the bullpen. 

You set your bag down with a little smile, feeling more than a little overwhelmed. 

Agent Morgan pats your shoulder as he passes your desk. “You’ll do just fine, kid. Ready for a case briefing in ten?” 

“Sure.”

His blinding smile eats up his whole face and you like him already. He’s different than you thought he’d be, but you still don’t think your preliminary profile was too far off.

Agent Gideon, still holed up in his office, has yet to acknowledge you. 

Your eyes keep wandering to the open blinds, behind which Agent Hotchner and a woman you understand to be his wife have a quiet, apparently heated argument on either side of his desk. Except for the tight set of her mouth and the angry glint in her eye, she seems lovely. 

Derek follows your gaze. “Wasn’t always like that.” 

You look at him, a little furrow in your brow. 

Should he be telling me this?

“She’s not always here either, but their son, Jack, has been sick, so it’s been… tense.” Derek shakes his head. “You wouldn’t catch me married in this job, not once.” 

That pulls a laugh from you. 

Emily, sitting at the desk beside you, turns in her chair. “Remind me to drink to that later.” 

Derek snorts and picks up a couple of files, headed up to the round table room. 

+++

Your first case briefing is, well...brief. The case seems fairly straightforward and you run through relevant vocabulary while JJ outlines the case details. 

Preferential offender, keeps his victims for no more than three days, victims found in public places. 

He wants them found, and fast. 

Need-based, maybe? What are his priors? 

You’re all dismissed with a brisk, “Wheels up in thirty.” 

You pack your things a little slower than probably called for. Hotch disappears into his office again, closing the door behind him. When you pass the window, his wife is tucked under his chin. 

Hotch’s eyes flicker to yours and you quickly train your gaze on the floor, hustling down the stairs. 

+++

You land next to each other when you board the plane. You do your best to avoid taking anyone's assigned seat. 

With a team of this size, you can only assume they have such things.

And they do. 

Gideon, Spencer, Morgan, and Prentiss take a seat at the table while JJ perches on the arm of the couch. 

Hotch settles at the informal “head” of the table, leaning on the chairs across the aisle. You take a seat in one of the chairs in the row next to him, trying to stay out of the way. 

“C’mere, kid,” Derek says, beckoning you forward. “You’re on this team.” 

You shuffle forward in your seat, leaning forward with your elbows on your knees and case file open in your hands. “I’m ready.” 

JJ smiles at you, and you almost feel comfortable. 

+++

You end up alone with Hotch in the precinct conference room after you land, unboxing files and sorting them for Spencer. Until you know enough to make yourself useful, you’ve made it your mission to handle the tedious and the clerical. 

Hotch pauses every once in a while as if he wants to say something. You continue on your way. When he’s ready, he’ll stop you. 

“I’m sorry about earlier. My wife, Haley, she -” 

You look up, waving him off with a little smile. “It’s okay, Hotch. It’s none of my business.” 

He looks at you for a minute, studying your face with a bit of a squint. “You mean that.” 

It’s not a question. 

You’re confused. 

“Of course.” A nervous laugh leaves you. “I mean, you’re welcome to tell me if you want, but it’s nothing I need to speculate or gossip about or, God forbid, profile.” 

The shock and relief war on his face until it settles back into something that looks like his usual severity, but a little softer. He doesn't say anything else, but you have the sneaking suspicion you passed a test neither one of you prepared for. 

Spencer and Emily return from their trip to the medical examiner’s office. 

“Who organized these?” Spencer asks, pointing at the neat piles you made. 

“Me.” You look up from another box you’re working on. “Would it be helpful if they’re sorted another way? I went chronologically and then by number and type of offenses, with preferential offenders that match the M.O. on top, when possible.” 

Emily, Hotch, and Spencer freeze, staring at you like you grew another head in front of them. 

You’re suddenly and violently self-conscious. “What?”

Spencer snaps out of it first, shaking his head and picking up a stack. “Nothing that’s just...um…”

“Exactly right,” Emily supplies. She glances at Hotch before looking back at you. “Thanks.” 

“No problem.” 

Hotch is the last to break, but the curious little glances he keeps throwing your way always linger a little too long. 

To your credit, you ignore them. 

+++

“So, how are you liking it so far?” Derek slides into the driver’s seat and rolls out of the parking lot. 

You’re headed to another witness’s house under direct orders to observe and as a few (carefully directed) questions. Derek insisted on bringing you himself while the others keep busy with something else. 

“I’m liking it,” you reply. 

He laughs. “Coulda fooled me.” 

You screw up your face and look over at him. “What do you mean?” 

“Well,” he says through a laugh, “when you’re not making yourself ridiculously useful, you look terrified.” 

“I am terrified.” 

“Nothin’ to be scared of as long as you keep asking questions,” he says. 

It’s almost like he doesn’t know how ridiculous he sounds. 

“You’re joking, right?” You turn to face him, shifting in your seat. “Agent Morgan -” 

He cuts you off. You’re pretty sure that’s just how he is - he interrupts the other members of the team frequently and fearlessly. “- Derek. Or Morgan.” 

“Fine. Morgan, you have to know that your team is legendary. I don’t even know why -”

“- Don’t say it.” He flags his hand before putting it back on the wheel. “You’re here for a reason, and none of us are going to let you fall so hard you can’t pick yourself up, okay?” He glances over, meeting your eyes. “We’ve got your back.” 

You quirk a smile. “Thanks.” 

“And,” he adds, “Hotch seems to like you alright. That’s half the battle.” 

“What’s the other half?” 

He snorts. “Gideon. And local law enforcement.” 

+++

You settle in a little easier after that. JJ’s your next target as you help her make some calls to the D.A.’s office. 

You hang up and take a breath, slumping back in your chair. It’s been a long day already and it’s not even lunchtime. 

“Hanging in there?” JJ asks, smiling at you over her files. 

You nod. “Yeah. Just a… different kind of energy than the academy, I think.” 

“I felt that way when I got here, too. Gideon was unit chief back then and Spence had just started, too.” She huffs a laugh. ��It was a little easier when there were more newbies, but then…” Her face clouds over and she shakes her head. 

“Then...what?” 

She looks up at you and her mouth twists. “Boston.” 

+++

“Hey, Derek?” 

“Yeah?” He keeps his eyes on the road, but he can hear the trepidation in your voice. 

The dark interior of the car feels safe in the early hours of the morning, headed back to the hotel. “You said I could ask you anything, right?” 

His eyebrows pinch. “Shoot.”

“What happened in Boston?” 

Derek takes a breath and lets it out in a whoosh. “I wasn’t there. I was supposed to be there.” 

You wait on him, watching him watch the road. 

“Unsub holed himself up in a massive warehouse. Gideon called in all the support he could - A Team, B Team, SWAT, the whole nine. I was visiting my mom in Chicago for her birthday like I do every year.” 

He stops at a red light, and you take a moment to look past him into the adjacent SUV, where Emily and Hotch’s profiles rest in a statuesque silhouette, backlit by the streetlamp. 

“It was a trap from the start. Everyone pushed in on Gideon’s order and the whole thing just…” He tosses his hand up and it lands with a smack on the leather steering wheel. “It just went up. Boom. Six BAU agents in our unit, dead, just like that. Had to rebuild from scratch.” 

You shiver, though the car is warm. “I’m so sorry, Derek.” 

He shrugs. “Gideon took six months off, Hotch took over. Gideon came back, Hotch stayed up front.” He smiles a little. “Haley wasn’t happy, but that’s the job.” 

Why does it always come back to Haley? To Hotch? 

Because he’s the unit chief. 

I know but…

Don’t read into it. 

You decide to push, just because it’s Derek, because he seems to know, because you feel safe with him, because it might be a mistake. “Is that what you meant?”

“Hm?” His head turns just a little toward you, his brow furrowed. 

“You told me on my first day ‘It wasn’t always like this.’ Is that what you meant?”

“No sane man would take on the unit chief position with a wife and baby on the way.” He shrugs and with a secret little smile says, “But nobody ever accused Hotch of being sane.” 

+++

Aaron sits in front of his computer, the end of his pen tapping on the glossy wood of his desk. 

Does he have feedback? He’s not sure. 

Even with your limited knowledge, you’ve managed to optimize most of the administrative bullshit and political nonsense that clogs most local investigations. You bounce between acting as his shadow and JJ’s, making friends and soothing hurts when toes inevitably get stepped on. 

You’ve immediately adapted to his style of criticism and correction, using Derek and Spencer as guide-rails when you’re not sure where you’re going. 

There’s nothing to complain about. 

But then again…

Feedback isn’t just about the negative. 

If he’s honest with himself, he knows he won’t shower you in the glowing praise you deserve. Gideon never did for him or anyone that came after. 

It’s not in their nature, or his. 

He starts to type. 

Glancing out his office window, his eyes find you hunched over your desk, poring over one of Spencer’s notebooks, a pinch in your brow as deep as the Grand Canyon. 

You work hard, impossibly hard. You throw everything you have at your work in the field while managing your courses and keeping up with your classmates. 

That in mind, he drafts an email to Jenny. 

With a sigh, he sends it.

He’s still thinking of what you said on the last case, the genuine truth of it, and how many times he has done his best to preempt the gossip that plagues this office, no matter who it’s about. 

This unit, as much of a family as it may be, constantly wraps itself in the business of everyone else. To know you couldn’t give less of a shit about his marriage when the rest of the team (save Gideon) probably has money on when Haley calls it quits is, admittedly, refreshing. 

+++

After being in the field, classes take on a new kind of banality. You’re keeping up well enough, but watching Gideon and Derek quarrel over the details of a profile beats diving into the techniques - you guessed it - Gideon developed from cases past. 

Hotch and Garcia were gracious enough to CC you on emails while you were grounded at the academy, but it wasn’t the same. 

It was hard not to feel left behind, like the last kid chosen for dodgeball in PE class, watching the rest of the unit leave the office. You hung back in the bullpen as long as you could find something to do this morning, making it to class at the very last minute. 

Even after lectures, your classmates want nothing more than your attention. You’re suddenly consulting on three different practicals and never have a lunch to yourself.

Most afternoons, you sneak into the bullpen just for some peace and quiet. 

You hear your last name and look up, finding Erin Strauss approaching you. You stand. “Ma’am.”

“What are you working on?”

You look down at your desk, finding practical and theoretical exam notes shuffled around next to mock consults and other nonsense Hotch dropped on his way to the jet earlier in the week. “Course work, mostly. It’s nice to… get away every once in a while.”

Erin nods with a little smile. “I’d imagine you’ve been pretty popular lately.”

You shrug, a little facetious. “You could say that.”

She pays your shoulder in a surprisingly maternal gesture, before wishing you luck and leaving you to your work. 

At this point, you can’t even imagine just being an FBI agent. 

+++

You’ve just closed your burning, tired eyes when your phone rings. 

You answer, your last name a grumble into the mic. 

“It’s Hotch.”

You sit up straight in bed, immediately awake. “Sorry, sir, I -“

“I should apologize. I don’t mean to interrupt your studying or wake you but I think I could use your opinion on this profile.”

You frown in the dark, flipping your desk lamp on. “My help, sir?”

“Yeah.”  He heaves a sigh and you can almost see the fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been looking at it too long.”

“Maybe Derek, can -“

“No. You. Here, listen -“

He rattles off the details of the case and you snatch your notebook and pen off the desk, jotting things down as Hotch continues through the case. 

“Have you identified and contacted local individuals who fit the victimology, taken steps to protect them? He’s a preferential offender with a predictable cooling-off period, right?” 

For some reason, this isn’t half as exhausting as the practical exam practice you’d been working on for the last five hours. You may or may not have written those exact questions about fifteen times, but it’s far less exhausting when directed at Hotch. 

“Yeah. Two high-risk victims are in protective custody and JJ’s been in touch since this morning.”

You go through a few more basic questions, getting your feet under you, before asking the one you’re really after. 

“Sir, why did you call me?”

“I needed another set of eyes.”

You huff a laugh. “No, I gathered that, but why did you call me? I’m in the middle of learning about something you’ve been doing for…” You search for a number, but your brain is fried. 

“Too long,” he supplies. 

“Sure. But my point stands.”

“That it does.” Something creaks in the background and you imagine he’s leaned back in his chair. 

“Did I help?” You’re happy he can’t see your dubious, if not entirely doubtful, expression. 

He’s happy you can’t see the little fond smile on his face. “Yes, actually. You did.”

+++

“Wheels up in thirty.” 

You all stand from the table and start your routines. Emily and Spencer make a beeline for the coffee machine while JJ jets back to her office for contact sheets and files and all manner of coordinating materials. 

Derek’s routine is simple enough - he already has his coffee and his go bag, so he’s answering a few emails before wheels up. 

You never really know what to do during this liminal space, so you stick to classwork. 

Much to your surprise, you’ve shot ahead in your classes on the shoulders of Derek and Spencer. They’ve been monumentally helpful with the history and application of profiling techniques (though much of Derek’s advice has been ‘just watch Gideon,’ you’re not sure how to watch a process that takes place entirely inside the man’s head). 

You ride with Hotch to the airstrip, looking out the window most of the way. It’s only a five minute drive, but the tree-lined roads around Quantico are always lovely this time of the morning. 

As always, you do your best to stay out of the way on the plane, taking up residence on Hotch’s right with your notebook and case file. 

You offer some thoughts here and there, not pushing too much or saying enough to make an ass of yourself. 

When Hotch calls break, the rest of the team scatters to their respective corners. 

Gideon turns to you, gesturing with one finger. “Hey, ah…” 

Spencer chirps your last name from across the cabin and you shoot him a grateful smile. 

“Good job in the briefing, today.” 

And with that, he disappears to the far side of the cabin, leaving you and Hotch alone by the table. 

“Wow,” you say with a little smile. “I didn’t know he was aware of my existence.” 

Hotch doesn’t say anything, but his lips twitch. 

Success. 

+++

“Welcome back, kiddo!” Derek offers you fist and you bump your knuckles against his on your way back to your desk. “How’d those exams go?”

You huff, playing at defeat. “Oh, you know.” 

“Don’t worry about it. There’s always next time.” 

Hotch, returning from a meeting with Strauss, hardly looks up from the file in his hand when he says, “Well done on your exams. SSA Radner threatened to hang your marksmanship targets on her wall.” 

You hide a smile. “Thanks, Hotch.” 

“Not fair!” Spencer says, tossing another Tums in his mouth. “I never passed those.” 

“Then how on earth do you have that, Reid?” You point at his six-shooter, still clipped to his hip. 

“Wait wait wait,” JJ says, dropping her files and crossing her arms. “You haven’t heard that story?” 

Your eyes flicker from Derek, to JJ, to Spencer, and back. “...No.”

JJ settles in, regaling you with a wild tale of an L.D.S.K. - 

“You remember what that stands for, right?” Derek points at you and you have a feeling this is about to become some kind of pop quiz. 

“Yeah. Long Distance Serial Killer.” 

“Good. Famous unsubs include…?” 

You sit back in your chair with a little smirk on your face. “D.C. Snipers Muhammad and Malvo, active October 2002, seventeen victims total. Apprehended by agents from the FBI Baltimore field office -” 

Derek holds up a finger. “And?”

“- and the BAU and the Maryland State Police.” 

“Good.” 

JJ waits for Derek to nod at her and she continues what you imagine to be a rather embellished version of a story in which Hotch and Reid save the day.

“...And then Hotch just starts kicking the shit out of Spencer -” 

Hotch’s office door shuts and he sails down the stairs with one of those little secret smiles. “This one ends with Reid stealing my sidearm and shooting the unsub in the head.” He taps right between his eyebrows in the barest of pauses on his way out of the bullpen. “Dead center.” 

Derek and JJ groan, both whining about how he ruined the punchline before devolving into a fit of giggles. You can almost see the smirk on his face as he pushes through the glass door and turns the corner. 

You join in the mirth, ruffling Reid’s hair. He smiles widely at you. 

Maybe you could just get used to this place.   

+++

The second round of classes on top of added case hours (you’re traveling with the unit more often than not) nearly brings you to the brink. 

On the plane back to Quantico, you realize you can’t remember the last time you actually had a full night of sleep. 

The rest of the unit is out cold, curled into themselves or stretched out under blankets, save for Hotch and Gideon. 

Gideon’s writing in that wretched notebook again, entirely focused on his work under the weak reading light. 

Aaron sits beside you on the other side of the cabin, looking over a few files before returning home. You watch him check his watch, sigh, shrug, and pull out his phone. To your surprise, he doesn’t move to give himself space as he calls his wife. 

“Hey, honey, it’s me… Yeah, we’re on the plane. Should be back within the next hour and a half... “ 

He sighs and tightly closes his eyes. “Haley, please… Yes, I know Jack’s already asleep… Are you implying I didn’t do my damnedest to - Then what’s your point?...” 

His voice never once rises above a low murmur. It’s impressive.

“I’ll be home as soon as I can… No, I won’t pass ‘Go’ or collect two-hundred dollars or step foot into my office… Yes. Plane. Tarmac. Car. Home… Yeah… Love you too.” 

He snaps his phone shut and leans back, tipping his head against the headrest.  

You stay quiet, continuing your review of S.S.A. Bailey’s course on, ironically, conflict de-escalation. 

Hotch takes a talking breath and you look over at him, keeping a kind of soft understanding on your face - really, shooting for anything that isn’t curiosity. 

“I appreciate your…” He looks for a word. “Discretion.” 

You laugh a little down your nose. “How many times do I have to tell you it’s none of my business?”

“How many times do I have to imply that a phrase like that isn’t in the vocabulary of this team, usually?” He shifts a little, and you notice his thumb, running along his forefinger like he’s searching for bone. 

“Is it really that bad?”

Hotch raises his eyebrows, and you relent. 

“Fine.” You drop your voice. “Do you want to know what I’ve seen?”

He shrugs. “An outside perspective might be nice.” 

You keep your eyes on your book as you speak, keeping your volume low and your tone as neutral as you can. 

“I’ve seen how Emily worries about fitting in - I can’t help but relate. This team is a family and it’s… hard to break through that sort-of-wall to the outside world.” 

The prickly feeling of his eyes on you isn’t altogether unpleasant, but you still haven’t grown used to it. 

“Derek and Spencer are worried about Gideon and,” you glance at him briefly, “so are you. Everyone seems to want to know why, but I don't think that’s always useful.” 

Hotch hums once, maybe in agreement - you’re not too sure. 

You are sure, though, that this was a test. 

“How’d I do, Counselor?”

It’s never too early to invoke the J.D. hanging in a frame behind his desk. It was the first thing you noticed and suddenly, a lot more made sense. 

You’re rewarded with a small smile. “Not bad. Though you did forget to drop in the little bit about my marriage.” 

“I didn’t forget,” you assure him.

“No?” 

“No. I figure if you have something to say, you seem like the kind of person who’d just say it. At least,” you shrug, “that’s my impression.” 

He’s quiet for a minute before he squints and looks over your shoulder at your reading. His brown eyes track down the page before returning to yours. He’s close to you, but you’re not uncomfortable. 

Hotch is...safe. Somehow. 

“There’s a reason you’re the exception. Not sure what it is yet,” he says. “But there’s a reason.” 

“What?” 

He leans back, a cryptic little smile on his face, and says nothing else for the rest of the flight.

+++

“Hotch, are you sure it’s not a trick question?” 

“The questions aren’t designed to trick you,” comes a voice from the doorway. To your surprise, it’s Gideon. “They’re designed to stretch and reveal your instincts. No right answer.” 

The corners of his mouth turn down while his eyebrows rise in that kind of halfway-encouraging look he sometimes gets. “Just go with your gut.” 

He disappears and you turn back to Hotch, scribbling away in a file. 

“He’s right.” 

Your brain feels less and less bound to your body as the days pass. “Am I nuts, or is that the most words he’s strung together since I got here, combined?” 

What you now know to be a smile twitches at Hotch’s mouth. “You’re not nuts.” 

You sigh and turn your attention back to your mock exam, twiddling your pencil between your fingers. “I’m sorry to keep bugging you with homework - it feels like cheating.” 

He pulls his phone from his pocket. “Resourcefulness is not cheating. If it was, I’d have to go back and get my J.D. out of a Cracker Jack box.” 

You muffle a laugh.

He checks his watch. “I have a check-in with the budget office in five minutes. You’re welcome to stay right where you are, but it’ll be boring and I plan to do a lot of pacing.” 

You hold your hands up in surrender and settle in. 

Friday afternoons in the office feel a lot like Saturdays in the office - which is to say, nothing happens at all. The rest of the team is catching up on paperwork while Gideon walks laps with his little notebook. 

Not three minutes into his conversation, Hotch stands and begins to pace, as promised. 

"No, we can't cut the technology budget... Because if the BAU gets called to a remote region, we need to have immediate access to satellite phones and our technical analyst… Yes… Send the budget to the Director, and I'm certain it'll come back approved without changes… The arrest and prosecution rate of this unit is -” 

His desk phone rings and he gestures for you to pick it up. 

“Agent Hotchner’s office,” you say with more than a little trepidation. You’re definitely not qualified to answer the unit chief’s phone. 

“Goddamn it, Aaron why can’t you -” She pauses. “Wait. Sorry. Who is this?” 

You introduce yourself. “I’m currently on-assignment with the unit. It’s… unconventional.” 

“Hm. Why are you answering Aaron’s phone?” Her tone isn’t accusatory - it’s more curious than that. You’d imagine this doesn’t happen all that often. He’s either at his desk, or he’s not at his desk. 

She calls him Aaron. 

You’re not sure why that surprises you. They’re married, and he has a first name. 

Taking a look across the room, you watch Hotch’s profile as he continues to defend the budget he submitted. 

Aaron. 

You make an attempt to see the man behind the suit, the man who goes home to his wife and son when he can. 

“I’m using his office to study for my academy exams. I’ll see if I can reach Agent Hotchner for you. Just a second.”

She snorts something that could be a laugh if it wasn’t so sharp. “Thanks.” 

Hotch looks over and squints at you, mouthing, Who is it? 

You put her on hold and answer in a stage whisper. “It’s your wife.”

Hotch freezes for just a second - it almost looks like he’s rebooting. 

He blinks three times in rapid succession before he pulls the phone away from his mouth. “Tell her I’m in a meeting. I’ll call her back.” You move to reach for the phone but he holds up a finger and you freeze. “Wait two minutes.”

You follow instructions, taking the time to answer a few more mock exam questions. You try not to think too hard about his avoidance. This doesn’t seem like a particularly pressing phone call - Hotch is in budget meetings all the time. 

None of your business. 

After about a minute and a half, you pick up the phone again. 

Before you can say anything, she’s already back on her mini-rampage. About twenty seconds in, she pauses. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m still not talking to my husband, am I?”

De-escalate. Disarm. Establish rapport. 

You can do this. 

You channel Derek, using a softer tone designed to distract. Maybe you’ll sneak some humor in there, if you can manage it. 

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hotchner, he’s not available.” 

With a defeated sigh, she asks, flatly, “Where is he?” 

Humor. Play off her disappointment. 

“I assume he’s in a meeting or something - he likes to think he’s very important - but I can’t find him.” 

To your surprise, she laughs a little. 

You check with Hotch across the room. He rolls his eyes at you but continues his bickering. 

Success. 

“Can you just… I don’t know… Tell him I called, or something?” 

You try not to think too hard about the defeat in her tone. “I promise I’ll badger him to call you back as soon as he’s back at his desk, ma’am.”

“Wow.” She sounds impressed, and you’re not sure why. You’re not left in suspense for long. She continues - 

“You’re a way better liar than JJ. Also - please don’t call me ma’am. Makes me feel old. Haley’s just fine.” 

“Of course.” 

“You know what…” She asks for your cell number and you give it to her, throwing a glance at Hotch for good measure. He’s still pacing. 

He presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, but can’t say anything to you before he’s forced to respond to the poor budget clerk who drew the short straw. “No we can’t start sharing hotel rooms…”

Haley interrupts your momentary space-out. “Thanks, again. If he doesn’t have a chance to call me back, can you let him know I’m going to my sister’s for the weekend? With Jack?” 

“Sure.”

That’s another question I’m not going to ask. 

You hang up the phone and get back to your exam, trying not to feel comforted by the lull of familiarity in the room. 

+++

For some reason, you keep finding yourself alone in police precincts in the middle of nowhere with Hotch sitting across the table from you. 

“Hey,” he says. 

You look up. 

“Haley, she…” He heaves a sigh and trails off for a minute, frowning at a spot above your head. “I don’t know why I’m asking, what I’m asking.” 

You keep your eyes on him. “Shoot.” 

He takes another breath. “I don’t know how to make her happy anymore.” 

This is above my pay grade. 

“Everything I do seems to irritate her - trying, not trying, just surviving. I don’t know.” He shakes his head at your somewhat bewildered expression. “Sorry, I -” 

“No, no, Hotch. It’s fine.” You search for his eyes. “What can I do?” 

He shakes his head. “Any advice?” 

Any advice? Definitely above my pay grade. 

You also feel for him - he wouldn’t be asking if he wasn’t desperate. 

Besides that, it almost makes sense he’s asking you rather than anyone else on the team. They’ve all known him too long, have been too close to see his struggles clearly. They need to see him as an authority, separate from petty squabbles. 

Separate from the things that make him human. 

He needs to be a superhero for this team, and then go home and be a superhero for his family. Both parts of his life exist with a wall between them - Agent Hotchner can’t be a husband and a father in the field, and Mr. Haley Hotchner can’t be an agent at home. 

It must be lonely. 

Everyone else knows about and ignores that necessary separation. He trusts them as his colleagues, people he can rely on professionally, but perhaps not personally. 

Well, all except Emily. 

You get the feeling that he doesn’t completely trust Emily yet, but you’re not sure why. That’s another thing to figure out about the walking enigma sitting across from you. 

“Well… I’ve never been married, I don’t have kids, but I think…” You search for words. 

It’s none of my business, is what you want to say. 

Instead, you offer, “Why don’t you just ask her?” 

His brow crumples. “What?”

“Ask her. You don’t know how to, I dunno, do it right on your own, it sounds like. But you’re a team, right? Just ask her.” 

You duck down to your work, getting the feeling he’d rather not be observed as he processes. There’s a part of you that wonders whether his preference for privacy masks his fear. 

Another part of you already knows the answer. 

+++

Derek and Emily walk back into the precinct, spotting the pair of you right where they left you. 

Hotch still watches you with a soft, curious frown on his face, like there’s a puzzle there he can’t quite solve. You diligently work away, sticking flags and post-its on cold cases for the board. 

“What’s with that?” 

Emily looks up from her phone. “What’s with what?”

Derek nudges his chin toward the conference room. “That.”

Emily’s brow pinches a little. “They seem to be getting along well.” Her mouth twists. “I didn’t think he’d warm up so easily. He didn’t with me.” 

“He gets like that. He’s getting better, though, ever since you called him out.” 

She snorts. “You’re kidding. I didn’t think he actually listened - I barely meant it.” 

“No, you didn’t.” Derek raises his eyebrows and searches for her eyes. “And he heard you.” 

Emily shifts her attention back to you, her posture softening. “Oh.” 

“C’mon,” Derek says, tapping her upper back with a good deal of affection. “Let’s regroup and see what we’ve got.”

+++

Aaron sits up in bed, the harsh light from the hotel table lamp illuminating the ugly wallpaper and the case files on the equally ugly bedspread. 

His fingers hover restlessly over the keys as he drafts his email, warring with himself. 

Does he want you on the team? Permanently? He’s already shown too much of his hand, revealed too much of himself, grew too comfortable too quickly. 

He’s not sure what it is about you that forced his guard down. 

You’re not the first person he’s asked about Haley, though he must admit that Gideon was next to no help. Spencer’s offered him unsolicited statistics about marital strife on three separate occasions in the past three months. 

Aaron presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. 

I live in a circus. 

He opens his eyes and reads over the email again. 

Fuck it. 

His cursor hovers over Send for just a moment before he clicks. The little whooshing sound seals his fate. 

+++

You land in Arizona and Gideon’s already on edge. There’s already another crime scene by the time you get off the plane

“This one’s going to be bad, isn’t it?” 

Derek sighs. “You’ve got good instincts. Stay close.” 

You elect yourself Derek’s shadow at the crime scene, taking notes for him while he circles and observes the body. 

Leaning close to him, you ask, “Isn’t the body positioning a sign of remorse?” 

He looks over at you with a little smile. “Yeah. Good work.” He looks across the street to Hotch, speaking with the detective. “Do yourself a favor and note that to Hotch. Make sure Gideon hears you.” 

+++

This time, you’re alone with Emily in the conference room, helping her pin and organize the board. 

“Hey,” she says, something like hesitation in her voice. 

You turn. “Yeah?” 

“Did Strauss ever…” She trails off and looks over her shoulder as Hotch, Gideon, and Derek come back in from the Arizona heat. They’re on their way to the conference room. 

“Did she ever what?” 

Emily shakes her head and forces a smile, waving you off. “Nevermind.” 

You’re not sure you get the confused look of your face before your colleagues walk through the door. 

+++

“Where are they?” Hotch watches the monitor, his eyes flickering, searching for Derek and Emily. 

You’re frozen, watching over his shoulder as the woman stabs the unsub, and then herself. Without knowing why, your mind wanders to that question Emily almost asked you the day before. 

This isn’t good. 

+++

The plane ride home is quiet, tense. 

You sit next to Hotch again. There’s not much you can do, but you shoot a text to Haley. 

5:42pm We’re flying back. Should be wheels down in Quantico in about four hours. 

She texts back after a minute. 

5:43pm Thanks. 

There’s something off - you don’t like the look of that period, but you try not to read into it too much. You’re all feeling a little unsettled after that case. 

Your eyes wander across the cabin. 

JJ’s bottom lip is firmly planted between her teeth as she stares out the window. 

Spencer’s sitting across from Gideon with a huge book in his lap, but he’s looking at Gideon more than he’s reading. 

Gideon, for once, doesn’t have his journal in his hand. He, like JJ, stares out the window, his mouth pinched. 

Emily’s eyes are restless, her breathing somewhat irregular. She’s picking at her nails. 

“Emily.” 

She looks up at you, and you tap the back of your hand with a finger. She looks down, finding her thumb and index finger close to bleeding. 

“Thanks.” She looks away from you again. 

If you didn’t know better, you’d think the view out the window was the most captivating sight in history. 

You know better. It’s just clouds. 

Your phone buzzes in your hand. Jenny. 

5:58pm How’s it going? 

You huff a little laugh down your nose. 

5:58pm Rough day. 

Hotch breaks his gaze from the window. “What’s up?” 

“Just Jenny. She’s checking in.” 

He shakes his head and you can hear the sarcasm in his tone. “Good day for it.” 

6:01pm If you’re up to it, I’ll be in my office late if you want to swing by and talk about it. 6:02pm I also have booze. 

You look up to find Hotch reading over your shoulder. He backs off. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to -” 

“No, it’s fine.” 

“You should go, if she’s offering.” 

You snort. “Should I be job-searching already?” 

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” he says with a little smile. “Jenny’s seen a lot. She’s a good resource.” 

+++

The Navy yard is quiet as you drive across the campus. The NCIS building isn’t hard to find, but it’s still unfamiliar territory. 

When you park and get cleared for access and up the elevator, most of the lights are off on the Major Case Response floor. There are still agents present, working under the warm light of their desk lamps. 

A team of four takes up the middle of the bullpen, but they barely look up as you pass them and climb the stairs. 

Cynthia isn’t at her desk - gone for the night - and Jenny’s office door is open. She also has her overhead lights turned off, giving her office a cozy, lived-in feel. 

“Hey, you,” she says, looking up with a little smile. “Just got the scuttlebutt on that Arizona case. Definitely not ideal, I hear.”

You shake your head, collapsing into a chair on the other side of her desk. “Not ideal is a good way to put it.” 

She stands and crosses the office, pouring two small glasses of some amber liquid you know is gonna burn like hell. 

You take what she offers and hold in both of your hands, not really interested in drinking it, and follow her to the couch. 

“What happened?” 

You heave a breath. “Got the call - three murders already. Clearly a preferential offender. All the women were students, brunette, similar features. We already had another crime scene by the time we landed. We used the profile, got the guy.” 

Jenny’s brow pinches. “Then?” 

“Copycat. Even came with a note exonerating the suspect we had in custody. We had to let him go without a lead on the second suspect.” 

She sighs and takes a sip of her bourbon. “Been there.” 

“We were surveilling him, waiting for him to do something stupid - we knew he would. The copycat confronted him… She was suicidal. Stabbed him, then herself. We were too late.” 

“Oh, my God.” 

You level her with an exhausted look. “Yeah.” 

“How’s your team?” 

“Tired, mostly.” You offer a humorless laugh. “Maybe in a more existential way than a physical way, not that any of us have slept…” 

The two of you chat into the early hours of the morning. She’s had more than one day like this, in more than one country. 

“It’s days like this that make you question whether you’ve chosen the right line of work.” She looks over at a picture of herself in front of the Eiffel Tower, resting on her bookshelf. “But the good days…”

“They make it worth it, don’t they?” 

The corner of her mouth tips up in a smile. “Yeah. They do.” 

+++

You find a text from Haley when you get back into the car, not realizing you left it in the center console cup holder. 

10:38pm Thanks for getting him home safe. Get some sleep.

+++

When you come in the next morning almost embarrassingly late, Gideon’s office is still dark. 

You’re not even really sure you should be here in the first place, what with the major fuckup hanging over everyone’s heads. The last thing you want to do is go home to your room, back to those four tiny walls and textbooks, even after everything. The bullpen, this team, has become your safety net. 

They should all be here, but there’s only one absence striking you as particularly odd. “Where’s Gideon?” 

Spencer shrugs, spinning half-circles in his desk chair. He looks despondent, staring at the carpet. You don’t see Emily or Derek, but you assume they’re somewhere. 

Weird. 

You set your things down and head up the stairs, knocking twice on Hotch’s door. 

“Yeah?” He looks up and sees you, relaxing a little. 

You take a little breath. “Should I be here today?” 

“Do you want to be here today?” There’s something behind his voice you can’t quite place. It almost sounds like insecurity, like he’s worried he’s scared you off. 

Far from it. 

“I do, sir. I want to be here.” You think of Jenny, and hope he can hear more than you can say. “It’s worth it.” 

You think maybe you’re figuring him out a little more. He smiles more often than you’d think, but you have to know what it looks like. This look - the softening of his eyes and the corners of his mouth, the slight crease at the corners of his eye, the threat of a dimple - is just as big a smile for him as Morgan’s human-sunshine smile. 

“Then stick around. I’ll have you work on some mock consults with Reid and Prentiss - you’ll be doing a lot of those in the next few months until you’re ready to take them on by yourself.” 

“I’ll go pick them up from JJ. They’re in her office, right?” 

He nods and you turn to leave, but you’re stopped by the sound of your name before you can get through the door. “Yeah?”

“You’ve performed remarkably well, no matter what happens after this.” 

The side of your mouth twists. “Thank you, sir.”

+++

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[nevvarro]

1CHANCE — my shitty lookism fic [daniel/gun & zack/johan]

[entirely self indulgent, personally don't know why daniel/jay are the ship everyone's obsessed w/ when personally i see more chemistry between dan & gun. Anyhow, here's a preview of the fic, you can read the full thing any the rest of the chapters over here on ao3]

He didn’t particularly know how to feel about Jung Gun. Before he had a pretty solid idea of the type of guy he was, shady and masochistic— pragmatic and mysterious but ultimately the wrong crowd. He wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt before, in the same way he gave it to Jiho (and in a way, the same way he gave it to himself, the same self that used to be cowardly and unkind because life was that to him.) but when he remembers that whole endeavour, it reminds him why you don’t give out endless trust to people. It’s on the individual to change, not for you to understand their circumstance.

But that doesn’t seem to be the case with Gun at all. There’s more to him, but what? Daniel initially did write him off as a profiteer, just like Charles Choi, someone who gained from the loss and suffering of children. It is quite obvious he enjoys an opulent lifestyle but he’s also about 2 years older than Daniel— he’s a child himself! Reflecting on it, he and Goo were probably one of Charles’ first victims, when he realised how high this went up, they’re probably just a cog in the machine too, it would be presumptuous of him to even assume that they would be kept once they’re no longer more useful than inconvenient and damaging to his brand. Maybe that’s what all this successor talk is related to, what kind of 19 year old talks this much about retirement? Maybe he should talk to Crystal, inquire about his person, she doubts she’ll tell him anything useful and it would likely cause he more trouble than anything—

“Daaaaaniel?” He looks up from the blank notebook page to be greeted by Zoe’s inquiring gaze. Oh dear, he’s thinking about this too much isn’t he. He didn’t even realise class was over.

He gave a hasty smile and shrugged, “Sorry Zo’ just zoned out for a sec.”

“A second? You were glaring at that piece of paper for a good 40 minutes. Class ended a while ago.” Zack interjected, he looked impatient but vaguely concerned. He knows there’s a lot going on right now but they’ve all been pretty good at not letting it interfere with their day to day school hustle. Daniel supposes he’s worried that it’s all too much for him. “Hehe… sorry, just been thinking about stuff. I’m totally fine.” Zack opted to not say anything more, like point out he’s been doing this for most of this week or even prompt him to explain what said “stuff” is. He just gave Daniel a look of acknowledgement. Zack supposes if it wouldn’t work with Johan why would it work with Daniel? The root of the problem will come out eventually. The conversation eventually moved itself, as absentminded teenage conversations do, saving Daniel from being the center of everyone’s thoughts.

They all left the school building together, last to leave (as per usual) and decided to let the night take them to any destination it wished. They haven’t done Karaoke in a while, so why not that? Vasco seemed extremely excited to display his musical talents and Jace couldn’t in good conscience deny him. Daniel exhaled, a sound brought out by the relief of just seeing his friends enjoy themselves (excessively bickering as they were) without any violent interference. Maybe that’s why he felt even worse when his brain refused to just stop and enjoy the moment. His brain was glued on his altercation with Gun at the abandoned school building, James Lee and this second body’s unconscious carnal violence. Reflecting back on it, the first person to unlock said form was Zack… he never needs to fight him again in a situation like that— He can’t risk hurting someone he cares about again. He feels a little disconnected from them though, of course they have their own worries and he doesn’t even intend to minimize them in his mind but… It’s so different to the stuff that’s wracking his brain. It makes him jealous. He wishes he could move on with his life but the more he learns the more he can’t just back out. There’s too much at stake here. God his mind sounds insufferable right now. That’s all he does nowadays. Brood and monologue and wonder and sigh. He’s starting to get bored of himself.

read the rest on ao3 LOL