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entity9silvergen · 4 years ago

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I recently asked reddit for some LGBT history from countries other than the US. Here’s what I got:

Germany

The Weimar Republic was surprisingly accepting of "alternative lifestyles."

During the Weimar Republic, Germany had a pretty active LGBTQ scene, with some major films and songs being produced, despite it still being illegal at the time. However, there was also a push to decriminalize homosexual behavior which sadly wasn't passed as the Nazis came to power.

This was based of two factors: after WW1 the authoritarian culture of Prussia sorta received a long overdue pushback. People were kinda sick of it, especially since these losers led them into a seemingly pointless war to begin with. Second: A LOT of men died in WW1 - and the army did not exactly prefer LGBT people. So with a lot of regular folks dead, the percentages of the total populace was sorta shifted. This also pushed the women's rights movements at the time for a similar reason.

Magnus Hirschfeld was helping trans people transition, crossdressers get crossdressing 'licenses', and generally advocating for and helping the LGBT community in the early 1900s in Germany. Nazis ended up raiding and burning down his research institute.

Hirschfeld was a gay polyamorous man. He was one of the first advocates for trans and gay rights but his work was destroyed by the Nazis.

The institute he headed even did the first modern gender affirming surgeries. The institute was destroyed and many people who were there (including the first known person to undergo complete MtF surgery) were killed by the nazis and the place was little more than bombed out ruins at the end of the war.

More information on the institute

Pre Nazi interwar Germany (Weimar Republic) was pretty open when it came to not only sexuality, but also gender identity. The Nazis put a stop to that & tried to destroy any & all research into either, but, for a brief moment, it was there.

Russia

Pretty sure all Russian LGBT history was erased before we even had a written language, but Russia almost got gay marriage legalized in the first soviet constitution (didn’t happen bc Stalin)

The early soviet period (pre-Stalin) is sometimes called “the first sexual revolution” as opposed to America’s “sexual Revolution” of the 60’s. Broad women’s suffrage, female employment and education, parental leave, advancement of GSM rights & decriminalization of abortion. This unfortunately did not stand the test of time & reactionary sentiment.

Additional Source

UK/ Britain/ England

The lead singer of Judas Priest is gay. The commenter’s father thought it was kinda funny because it didn’t match with his biker aesthetic, but the commenter doesn’t think he considered how much leather he wears on a daily basis

Hell bent for Leather was a track off Killing Machine. It was written by lead guitarist Glenn Tipton (who is straight), but it's fun to find alternative meanings in Priest songs. A second commenter likes to pretend a lot of the lyrics Halford sings are gayer than they actually are.

A couple people mentioned how uncomfortable it was seeing Ru Paul interact with British drag queens because he barely knows anything about British culture.

Ru Paul got angry that a British drag queen hasn’t seen the Golden Girls because “it’s gay culture” and then not five minutes later someone had to explain to him who Alan Turing was.

Alan Turing, who was an incredibly noteworthy figure (He made the Enigma codebreaker machine, which broke the code that was used by Nazis during the war and basically sped up the war by a significant margin. He also set the foundations for artificial intelligence, one achievement he was named for: the Turing Test), was homosexual and prosecuted multiple times because of it

Shakespeare was probably bisexual (some of his sonnets had homoerotic subtext/were sent to a younger man). Plus, Hamlet is gay as fuck.

Sonnet 46 was very gay. Here’s a link!

King James 1st was corrupt and used his position to promote his gay lover to higher positions than he should've gotten.

The 13 year old king James 6th of Scotland and 1st of England fell in love with a 37 year old catholic Franco Scottish man. The king gave the older man so much free shit that other lords started getting salty and his lover ended up converting to Presbyterianism out of loyalty to his young lover. He also fell in love with a man who ''was noted for his handsome appearance as well as his limited intelligence.''

Clearly James was into himbos, and women too.

He had a secret tunnel connecting his bedroom to George Villiers’s bedroom.

His relationship with Villiers was basically common knowledge and a source of much amusement and mockery. He also once said that his relationship with Villiers was equivalent to the relationship that Christ had with John the Baptist

Much more recently, there's obviously JKR and the banning of puberty blockers and Margaret Thatcher opposing LGBTQ+ rights by passing a law meaning you couldn't 'promote homosexuality'.

Prince Philip was a racist twat (and probably a huge homophobe knowing him).

Gay marriage only became legal in 2014.

The Wolfenden Report was published in 1957, and it recommended the decriminalization of homosexual acts between consenting adults. It was a huge topic of public debate, and ultimately led to the Sexual Offences act of 1967, which legalized sexual acts between consenting men aged 21 or over in England and Wales (sexual acts between women were never explicitly criminalized). Scotland decriminalized sex between men in 1980, and Northern Ireland in 1982.

For a totally batshit real-life bit of gay history, check out the show A Very English Scandal. It's about a politician, Jeremy Thorpe, who put a hit out on his former lover who was threatening to go public with the fact they had had a relationship.

Austria

Gay marriage was legalized in Austria about 3 years ago. The worst thing is that it'd have staid illegal if the Supreme Court wouldn't have jumped in and declare it to be unconstitutional.

Austria did have something called "partnership" which was where gay couples could officially register with the state as couples but not receive any of the benefits of married het people

They still have super backwards Transphobic laws requiring for example "real life experience" to get even diagnosed. Basically you're forced to be and live as feminine/masc as possible and a doctor them judges if you're femme or masc enough. It's torture

Australia had widespread, over 60% approval of gay marriage for well over a decade before the government legalized it. The governments were actually going against the people for a very long time by denying it.

Taiwan/ Hong Kong/ Mainland China

When Taiwan recently legalized gay marriage, their official statement was something along the lines that they were casting off Western-imposed values and returning to their own traditional values and the entire western lgbt community ridiculed them in a "if that's what you need to tell yourself" sort of way but it's actually the truth.

Prior to western colonization, the Imperial Chinese attitude toward sexuality was not dissimilar to Greco-Roman attitudes in that a man must marry a woman to beget legitimate heirs but whatever else he does on the side is his own business. It wasn't until Victorian colonizers came along and imposed homophobic attitudes on China that China started treating gays like abominations. In Taiwan, Hong Kong, and Mainland China, as indeed most of the world, homophobia is a western value imposed by colonizers.

Bonus history: there is an actual saying in Arabic that was in widespread use across the Middle East and North Africa for thousands of years from classical antiquity until European colonization. The saying goes "Women are for babies, [young men] are for fun."

The commenter specifies that this means “college-aged twinks,” not children

Another commenter speculates about when homophobia arose in China and how. They also add that in Rome, bottoms were stigmatized.

There’s a story of Emperor Ai of the Han dynasty & him cutting off his sleeve for his boyfriend

There is also a god worshipped in Taiwan, the Rabbit God Tu'er Shen, whose domain is managing love and sex between same-sex attracted people. He is meant to be the incarnation of a soldier from the 17th century, who fell in love with an imperial inspector and spied on him bathing, and was tortured and killed by that official because he was offended by the spying. A villager from the soldier's hometown dreamed that Tu'er Shen appeared to him and said that because his crime had been love, he had been appointed to manage the affairs of gay people. The villagers erected a secret temple to the soldier, and people have been praying to him ever since.

South Africa

South Africa became the first nation in the world to explicitly prohibit discrimination based on sexual orientation in its constitution. It was also first country in Africa to legalize same sex marriage in 2006. What really set them back for so long was apartheid.

There is some speculation that that Shaka Zulu was gay since he never took any wives

South Africa's post Apartheid constitution was the first in the world to outlaw discrimination based on sexual orientation in 1996.

South Africa was also the 5th country in the world and only country in Africa to legalize same sex marriage in 2005.

Even before that the Constitutional Court ruled that sexual orientation was not relevant when deciding child custody in 2002.

Transgender folks have been allowed to change their sex in the population registry since 2003.

Conversion therapy is not illegal yet and public opinion still needs some work.

Spain

In Spain gay marriage was legalized in 2005, now they are considered one of de gay-friendliest countries in the world. The commenter is a lesbian and has never been closeted or directly experienced discrimination for being a lesbian.

In July 2005, Spain became the third country in the world to explicitly legalize gay marriage, after a thirty-year struggle following the fall of Franco's dictatorship, during which most activism was carried clandestinely (as it was illegal).

From 2007 onwards, Spanish [binary] trans people can legally correct the name and sex fields of their IDs and currently, there's a push for a law that would allow for legal recognition of non-binary Spaniards.

Despite the dictatorship in the 60s, there were cinemas that specialized in gay meet ups. Trans women also had ways to get passports so they could go to the US for surgery.

Ireland

In Northern Ireland, same sex marriage only became legal in 2020 and the leader of the most popular party is homophobic transphobic racist and sexist af. In fact, the majority of the party are but some of the quotes from the biggest party leader are depressing.

Same-sex marriage was only legalized in Ireland in 2015. Homosexuality was decriminalized in 1993.

When Ireland legalized same sex marriage by popular vote in 2015, it was still something you got horribly bullied for in schools if you were out. Queer people got an apology from the Taoiseach in 2018, for the suffering and discrimination we faced from the State prior to the legalization of homosexuality.

In the case of trans rights, in 2015 the Gender Recognition Act was signed into law. It allows legal gender changes without the requirement of medical intervention or assessment by the state as long as you are over the age of 18.

Ireland has fines and jail time for anyone found guilty of attempting conversation therapy.

Ireland has seen a lot of progress in LGBT rights in the last 6 years but even up to the 2000s, citizens left their family members and friends to rot for being LGBT+. It still happens all over the country, especially in circles that are still fanatically Catholic. As the Catholic Church has lost the iron grip on the country, people have become more accepting of the LGBT+.

India

The Kamasutra(ancient text on sexuality etc.) has an entire chapter dedicated to homosexuality

The Arthashastra, a 2nd century BCE Indian treatise on statecraft, mentions a wide variety of sexual practices which, whether performed with a man or a woman, were sought to be punished with the lowest grade of fine. While homosexual intercourse was not sanctioned, it was treated as a very minor offence, and several kinds of heterosexual intercourse were punished more severely.

Sex between non-virgin women incurred a small fine, while homosexual intercourse between men could be made up for merely with a bath with one's clothes on, and a penance of "eating the five products of the cow and keeping a one-night fast"

Milk, curd (cheese), ghi (clarified butter), urine, and dung are the five products of a cow

The commenter adds that this is not a terrible punishment.

The Mughal Empire mandated a common set of punishments for homosexuality, which could include 50 lashes for a slave, 100 for a free infidel, or death by stoning for a Muslim

On 6 September 2018 the Supreme Court of India invalidated part of Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code making homosexuality legal in India

Prior to the British colonization of India homosexuality was not all that looked down upon when compared to what happened when the British took over and instituted anti gay laws.

The Hijra (literally means third gender) were seen as normal and have been accepted since long before Christ, as evidenced by the Karma Sutra. The British took videos of them to take back to demonstrate how the Desi were “barbaric”.

Bonsia

In Bosnia, there was a one pride parade that ended with religious extremists ruining it and the police not doing anything. It was supposed to be 5 maybe 3 days long but ended in like 1 or 2.

The Danish astronomer Tycho Brahe mapped out the entire night sky with only his eyes. It laid the foundations of many later scientists, such as Isaac Newton. He was a very rich nobleman, so much so that he owned 1% of Denmark's money. He had a pet dwarf that apparently could see the future, which sounds pretty gay. He was also part of the Elefant Ordning, which consisted of rich and strong Danish men.

Philippines

Despite many attempts to legalize same-sex marriage, the Philippines still didn't budge. Being gay in itself is legal, but same-sex marriage still isn't.

Philippines ,the most Catholic Country in Southeast Asia, has held the largest Pride Parade in Southeast Asia.

Serbia

Serbia didn't have history from about 16th century to 1800's when the 1st revolt happened and failed till 1813's... Then yet another in 1830's for semi independence from Turks, and full in 1836

During the last lingering Ottoman rule over autonomous Serbia, Serbia was one of the very first few countries to have legal mostly everything... it then got removed with like 3 constitution changes and then it didn't move forward for a looong time

Switzerland

Would you have thought that small, conservative Switzerland was a center of the international gay community during the mid-20th century? The magazine "Der Kreis"- the circle - was the only queer magazine in the world that kept publishing during WWII. It was edited in Zurich and distributed internationally, which often meant illegal smuggling, even into nazi Germany. The magazine's annual ball was attended by hundreds of gay men from all over Europe each year. The whole thing was kept strictly secret from the public, though it was known and tolerated by the police.

The Kreis club disbanded in 1967, as repressions grew heavier after a number of murders in the scene had caught the public's attention. By then, other European and American groups took its place, publishing their own magazines.

They made a movie about it.

More info about Der Kreis

As of today, Switzerland doesn't allow gay marriage. A country-wide referendum will be held this fall on gay marriage.

The commenter speculates that gay marriage will be legalized.

A few people expressed surprise that Switerland is socially conservative and several people explained that women’s right to vote was only place in the 70s.

There’s a movie about it

Turkey

A Muslim Persian (born in modern day Turkey) philosopher/mysticist named Mewlana who is known for his sayings on acceptance and love for one another was gay! He had exchanged letters with his instructor Shams and wrote homoerotic poems to him! In Turkey this is ignored by many due to the country's stance on homosexuality

More information

Norway

The commenter’s hometown and the neighboring town arranged their first pride parade/event in 2017, which is a big deal for a small place and one of the local priests went livid and went straight to the newspaper and social media to condemn it. A local rapper wrote a short and to the point article in the newspaper calling him out for all kinds of things which was a great read. Then to top it off, the priest arranged for a "Jesus Parade" in protest to be held the day before the pride parade. Only like five people walked in it, not including the priest of course because he happened to be on vacation in Spain that week. The pride parade itself was a success though! It's become an annual event. Covid has put some breaks on it though, but they're making a documentary this year about the pride celebrations.

Hungary

Hungary has no same sex marriage or transition rights

Police are unkind to protestors

During “commie times,” being queer was illegal so queer people went to the gulag

Belgium

Same sex marriage was legalized in Belgium in 2003 (right after the NL who were the first in the world). The commenter says that same-sex marriage has always felt possible and she is confused about other countries’ actions.

Poland

Polish president on public assembly: 'LGBT is not people, this is ideology'.

Denmark

WHO took their sweet time declassifying being transgender as a mental illness, so Denmark got sick of waiting and became the first country to stop classifying it as an illness.

Australia

In Australia same-sex marriage wasn't legal until 2017.

Portugal

Portugal is know for having one of the most (if not THE most) peaceful revolutions in history back in the 60's, with only 4 deaths total.

Canada

Operation Soap.

Mexico

To learn more, watch Dance of the 41 on Netflix.

Netherlands

NL was one of the first countries to legalize gay marriage in 2001

Sweden

In Sweden they used to classify Homosexuality as a disease during the 20th century so in protest people would call in too gay to work.

New Zealand

When same sex marriage was legalized, the parliament broke into song.

The song

Other

Homosexuality is illegal in 73 countries, some by death or life in prison.

Only one country in Asia has legalized same-sex marriage: Taiwan

FNAF is older than same-sex marriage in the US

Condor Operation

I think this is some important stuff so please reblog so more people can see! And, if you would like to add to or correct anything here, feel free to do so!

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jimlingss · 5 years ago

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Game of Temptation

➜ Words: 16k

➜ Genres: 60% Smut, 35% Angst, 5% Fluff, Succubus!AU

➜ Summary: As a succubus, your beauty is unrivaled and shaped to tempt mortals. But it's still hard to resist Taehyung, and there's little you can do once you've been coerced to do his bidding for him. This time, you find yourself entering the affluent Kim Household as a housemaid. And these poor humans don't know your intentions are far from being angelic.

➜ Warning: seduction, sex, homewrecking, infidelity, daddy kink, creampie, etc. There were no morals in the making of this fic. I do not subscribe to my characters’ beliefs, y'all. It's just some crazy fiction. Reader discretion advised.

It’s your chance to have a little fun, peach. The four wheels of the luggage roll against the smooth pavement, over the cracks and up the massive driveway. The sweltering sun isn’t a bother when the feeling of flames licking against your cheeks is such a familiarity. Yet, you still feel disgruntled as Taehyung’s words ring inside your head. I know you want to try your hand at it. And you’ve been telling me how much you want a little subordinate of your own. You could do whatever you want with them. There are no rules. He’s a bastard. If it wasn’t for you being so wrapped around his finger and dancing in the palm of his hand, you would never do something this ridiculous. But it’s not like you have much of a choice. Taehyung’s words of persuasion act like you do have a choice when in reality, he mocks. Yet, in spite of what you might really think, you continue on your way, lugging your heavy baggage up the stairs and steadying your breath. Feeling a sense of calmness, the pad of your index finger presses the doorbell. You listen to how the sound echoes inside the enormous manor. There’s shouting, footsteps, and a second later, the door swings open. There’s a plump woman with an apron tied over her body, her gray streaked hair pulled back into a bun. She’s out of breath as she is fatigued even though it’s only eight in the morning. But she still greets you with a smile that spreads into her chubby cheeks. “Hello! You must be the new live-in nanny and housemaid! Come in, come in. Don’t just stand out here! It’s so cold!” She helps drag in your luggage. The large foyer opens up to a grand staircase, two archways on both sides that allow you to peek into the chandeliered and golden curtain rooms. There’s antique china in a display case and vases on tables — more to paint a picture of wealth than for any actual purpose. But while one would expect a quiet and proper home, there’s chaos instead. Feet rumbling from upstairs. Sharp laughter and exhausted sighs. Noises of shouting and screaming. “You’re younger than I expected. What’s your name?” “Y/N, madam.” “Oh, I’m not the madam,” the woman giggles at the thought and bats the air with her hand. “The madam isn’t as old as I am. I’m the Kim’s housekeeper, Ms. Yoo. We’ll be working close together. Have you eaten yet? The trip must’ve been long and tiring. Would you like to rest?” The corner of your lips quirk. “I’m alright, thank you.” “I’ll give you a tour around then. The faster you can become accustomed to this home, the faster you can help out.” You nod, but before she can get in another word, there’s thundering stomps down the stairs. A boy’s face pokes through the banisters and he gives a toothless grin. Not more than five years old, he wears a blue, collared shirt and khaki shorts, one foot with a sock and the other without — he’s no doubt a spoiled, little brat. The kid makes a ruckus while running down the rest of the steps, jumping from the last three and he comes up to you, eyes wide and sparkling as he looks up. “Who’re you?” You lower yourself and offer a soft smile. “I’m going to be your daddy and mommy’s new little helper. We’re going to have lots of fun from now on.” “Jaesun! Jaesun, get back here! What did I say about slamming your bedroom door?!” A frail woman with grating vocal cords comes down the stairs as well. Her chest is rising and falling, evidently winded from her son but her eyes visibly light up when she sees you. “You must be Y/N, aren’t you?” She’s a pretty woman with few wrinkles even in her forties, dressed cleanly in a rosy blouse and white skirt. But her dark circles ruin the pristine image. “Yes, I am, madam.” She shakes your hand vigorously. She looks at you like you’re her guardian angel. An irony that tickles your senses. “Oh, I’m so happy you’re finally here. I’m Kim Yijin, my husband is Kim Namjoon, but we should head to the kitchen to talk. There’s not much time left.” The housekeeper smiles. “Yes, I was about to show her the way.” “Let’s go, Jaesun.” You offer your hand to the boy and he happily takes it, something that Yijin doesn’t miss and even grins at. The kitchen is twice the size of the foyer, two stove sets and two refrigerators side by side. The counter space is enough to stretch your entire body across and you can only marvel at the surroundings. “I hope you don’t get too overwhelmed,” Yijin says as she turns to get her coffee started and Ms. Yoo sets out breakfast for Jaesun at the table. “But I should tell you now before I forget to. My family eats a gluten-free diet. Our Jaesun is lactose and tolerant, so he’s only to have soy milk and calcium-fortified orange juice. My daughter has poor digestion, so try to avoid whole-grains when you’re preparing the meals.” She stops for a second, lamenting, “and she has such bad skin these days, so avoid milk and anything bad, like instant noodles, even if she begs for it. The girl doesn’t know what’s good and bad for her.” With her steaming coffee cup in hand, Yijin waltzes around the kitchen, forcing you to follow her whims. “Make sure the kids have at least three servings of fruits and vegetables. My husband doesn’t like eggs and Jaesun isn’t supposed to have candy. Also, this is less important, but I really like fried foods that aren’t too oily, so if you have anything you can make…” The corners of your lips lift. “I have a fried chicken recipe.” “I like you already.” She snaps her fingers, smile brightening. She looks over to the older lady, calling out to her, “Ms. Yoo, I can get breakfast ready for today. Would you like to continue showing Y/N around?” “Yes, I will.” Even when you could tell from the outside, the house is grand. It’s a closed concept, full of mahogany wood panels, twisting halls, oak doors and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. It looks like a place Taehyung would enjoy. “Every day, we meal prep breakfast, lunch and dinner. Typically only the master of the house is here for lunch, so we have to watch our portions. He works a lot from home. Oh, his younger brother is also living here for some time. He’s an editor, so he’s quite busy. I tend to deliver his meal to his room if he doesn’t come down for dinner.” You nod, entering the living room. There’s a giant family photo above the mantel that looks all too artificial — stiff smiles and pressed clothes with a white background. But the space is warmed with cedar bookshelves, a coffee table to match and perfectly positions cushion chairs. In one of them is a sleepy man with dark hair, sipping on a mug as he reads the newspaper. He looks up at you, features more tender than expected. “Hello.” You dip your head to the so-called younger brother, keeping your voice soft-spoken. “Mr. Kim, this is our new helper,” the housekeeper introduces. “Yes.” His voice is also surprisingly husky. “I’m Yoongi. It’s nice to meet you.” The two of you stare at one another until you dip your head as Mrs. Yoo keeps going and you leave the room, walking upstairs. “We dust every day and clean the kitchen each night. Every other day, we do laundry and vacuum the rooms. The living space and foyer get especially dirty, so we have to stay vigilant. If your back ever aches from hunching over so much, tell me and I’ll give you some cream and heated pads.” A door down the hall shuts and there’s an audible sigh. What follows are footsteps and a teenage girl in an ironed school uniform, backpack on her back. Her black hair is sleek, ending at her waist and in spite of puffy cheeks, her eyes are cat-like. “Good morning, Sohee. Sleep well?” “I guess.” As her pupils dart from the housekeeper to you, her steps slow and she halts altogether. You lock your gaze with her and smile. “Hello. I’m the new housemaid, Y/N.” You extend your arm, but she dwells — staring like a deer in headlights. It takes a moment for Sohee to come to her senses and she shakes your hand while brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She timidly murmurs, “O-oh. Nice to meet you.” “Sohee!” There’s a sudden screech of her name from downstairs, grating to the ears. Immediately, the young girl deflates. “Coming!” she shouts back to her mom with a groan, rolling her eyes before running down the stairs. The housekeeper smiles sympathetically. “Sohee’s going through a bit of a growth spurt, so she’s been a bit sensitive lately.” You nod and she continues, “We clean the bathrooms once a week and once a month, we wash the carpets. Your room is just this way.” Down the corridor is a small mahogany door. But there’s grandiose double doors with golden handles right where the hall begins from the open area. And your strides reduce. You linger from curiosity and peer through the crack with an eye. Vaguely, you’re able to make out bookshelves and an imposing desk. More importantly, there’s someone seated in the leather seat behind it. Mrs. Yoo notices. “Oh, that’s master Kim’s office, but there’s no need to bother him right now.” Your body moves a little too late. While you’re still peeping through, the man behind the desk raises his head. Your eyes meet, but you leave before either of you can get a good look at each other. The room you’re given is a meager space — more like a closet compared to the rest of the house. You hold in your scoff, looking around at the single bed. The empty desk. The tiny window with dead bugs on the sill. The wooden chair with splinters sticking out of it. It looks like antiques shoved in a shed. Not even Taehyung treats you this poorly. “The bathroom is across from your room, so it’s rather convenient!” You set your luggage down. “Also, you’ll be watching Jaesun when he comes home from kindergarten. You’ll wash him and put him to bed as well. I’ll help you out until you get the hang of things, so don’t worry too much.” You wonder if the old lady ever shuts up, but you keep your voice soft-spoken and your demeanour timid. “Thank you.” “It’s not an issue.” Ms. Yoo pats your shoulder. “Oh, you can get settled a little later on. We should help the madam with breakfast. She doesn’t cook very well.” It’s possible to get lost in this abyss of a house. There are endless halls and pompous rooms. You don’t understand the purpose of having a large music room next to a drawing room, but you suppose with this much money, it’s fun to throw it into a blazing fire. The housekeeper continues yapping away as you make it back downstairs. But on your way, you catch a different individual standing in the foyer. Someone in a black suit with doe eyes, boyish features that draw you in. He seems surprised to see you too. “Ah, Jungkook! Have you eaten yet? Would you like a coffee?” “I’m fine, Ms. Yoo.” He has a cute smile full of teeth and his eyes flicker to you. “This is...?” “Oh, it’s the new helper I was telling you about. Y/N, this is Jungkook, Mr. Kim’s personal chauffeur. He’s been working with this family for almost as long as I’ve been here.” “Not that long,” Jungkook retorts mischievously. “I only started here a few years ago after I finished school.” “Only? Oh my. Feels like you started here thirty years ago like I did! Time goes by so fast!” “Only when you’re having fun.” Jungkook grins and then redirects his attention towards you, clearing his throat. “I-It’s nice to meet you.” “Likewise.” You shake his hand and dip your head with a tiny smile. He averts his vision too, becoming shy. Yet, when you lift your head, your eyes meet each other’s. You can feel the way his hand is getting sweaty, but you let it linger for a longer amount of time than necessary. Until you’re the one to let go. He’s too cute. You catch the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. The tension between the pair of you is only broken when a voice coughs from the top of the staircase and Jungkook breaks apart from you, taking a step back. You look up at the master, Kim Namjoon. A man in his forties, tall with a commanding aura. His hair is styled neatly, thick glasses sitting on his face, sharply dressed in a tailored suit. Everything about him screams of new money. “Good morning, Mr. Kim.” He hums at the housekeeper. “Good morning, Ms. Yoo. This must be the new helper. It’s nice to meet you.” The man comes down and visibly inspects you, as if trying to figure you out and only looks away when he’s satisfied. “I hope you’ll do a good job.” “Yes, sir.” “Are you going already, daddy?” Sohee comes from the kitchen, crestfallen. The volume of her voice is quiet and tapers off, “You’re not going to have breakfast with us...?” “I don’t have time today.” The words tumble out and he looks at his phone. Ms. Yoo opens the door as he answers a call outside. You look over at Sohee who’s become dejected. Her shoulders have slumped and her hair falls in front of her face. She pouts and tries to hide it. But Jungkook smiles softly and ruffles her hair. “Don’t be so sad. I’ll have breakfast with you tomorrow, okay?” “Really?” Sohee looks up at him, eyes gradually brightening and her cheeks becoming rosy. He nods. “I’ll make sure to come early.” “I’ll have to cook more eggs then,” the housekeeper chortles and Jungkook grins until his eyes travel to you. The glance turns into a gaze and neither of you speak until Ms. Yoo turns. “Come on, Y/N! We can’t dawdle all day now.” “Yes,” you murmur and follow after her, all too aware of Jungkook’s stare on your backside as Sohee still talks without him really listening. Once you turn the corner, the older woman pauses and your brow cocks. “Is….there something the matter?” She smiles endearingly at you and shakes her head. “No, nothing’s wrong. You’re just very beautiful, that’s all.”

The house is chaotic. Before going to bed, Ms. Yoo gave you one piece of furniture to add to the sad collection — an alarm clock. And it blares with red digits reading that it’s five in the morning. Lugging yourself up, you’re bombarded with chores. From laundry to wiping down windows and making the bed. “Excuse me.” You knock against the door and there’s a muffled ‘come in’. Yoongi sits at his desk with a stack of papers in front of him and a red pen in his hand. His room is similar to yours, cramped and modest, but with a larger window and mattress, and a proper wardrobe and closet. The man in his pajamas doesn’t look at you. “You can leave it there,” he mumbles and you set his tray of breakfast food on his nightstand. Your eyes linger on his slouching form. But he never turns around, so you leave. The noise and bickering from the kitchen can already be heard from the stair landing. The stove top fan is blasted while Ms. Yoo fries eggs, Jaesun sitting at the table with his legs swinging and spitting his cereal all over the place as he plays make-belief with his robot, but most of all— “Why won’t you let me go?” Sohee is standing by her mother, exasperation and the furrow of her brows ruining her otherwise innocent exterior. “It’s only Yeeun’s house! And you already know her mom!” “I already said that she isn’t a good influence on you!” “We’re only studying! I don’t get why you don’t like her!” “Her family is lower than ours.” Yijin forces herself to become calmer and feeds Jaesun a spoonful of yogurt as he plays. She glances at her daughter after a moment. “If you know what’s good for you, you’d become friends with Lee Sunmi. At least they have something to offer us. And are you going to eat that bagel? It’s filled with cream cheese. We have to watch your weight, remember?” “Why are you always picking on me?” The girl drops her choice of breakfast and cries, “What about Jaesun?!” “Are you going to compare yourself to your brother?” She gives her an astonished look full of disbelief, tinged with disappointment. “He’s only five.” Sohee is frustrated to no end. “I hate you all!” She screams and stomps away as you resume slicing the strawberries, eyes lifting every so often. You watch as Jungkook enters the kitchen at the same time Sohee’s leaving. She pauses for a second but then pushes past him. Her mother screams after her. “Sohee! Are you not going to eat at all?! That girl! So rude.” In the meanwhile, Ms. Yoo reads the expression on your face and smiles. “Don’t worry. They never argue for too long.” “Shouldn’t we at least say something?” She shakes her head. “I’ve tried to get involved a few times, but it never helped much. Better to keep quiet. Every family argues.” The housekeeper finishes up in the kitchen while Yijin settles down and sips on her coffee as she scrolls through her phone. She asks for a plate of fruits from Ms. Yoo and at the same time, you notice Jaesun scooping his cereal and purposely spilling it on the ground. No one notices. It sloshes into a pile. You hold in your cusses and grab a rag. The five year old realizes he’s been caught in the act and grins like a little shit. You get on the floor, scrubbing the mess. But the moment the floorboards are back to brown again, there’s another splatter of milk by your hand and a spoonful of cereal flakes that follow. It splashes on your hair and apron and you raise your head to find the little shit plastered with a ginormous smile. “Done eatin’!” He announces, scooting back his chair before running off in giggles. May Satan have mercy on the child before you tear his limbs apart. The minute you’re finished scrubbing the floor and clearing the table, you go off to find the brat. Because god forbid there’s a scratch on him. You find him in the hallway between the laundry room and garage. “What do you think you’re doing?!” There’s a bright red crayon in his tight fist. And he’s scribbling all across the wall while laughing at a piercing volume. At the sight of you, Jaesun draws a line as hard as he can until his knuckles are white, bits of wax are sprinkling and the crayon is a half the size it used to be. The kid runs away before you can snatch him. Much to your dismay, Ms. Yoo merely smiles in endearment when you tell her. “Kids like to have so much fun, don’t they? I remember when my son was at that age, he was such a troublemaker too. But it’s nothing a little baking soda can’t fix!” You end up on your knees, scrubbing the wall with a damp rag dipped in the white powder. You’re humiliating and exhausted. Taehyung was wrong — there’s nothing fun about this whatsoever. You swear to God you’re going to murder someone. “How are you doing?” You look up, discovering doe eyes and pink lips quirked at you. Jungkook is dressed in his suit that’s a bit too big for him, hands dug into the pants pockets as he glances at the wall. You smile at him, brushing away the strand of your hair that came loose from your bun. It’s not too bad of a time to be sweating. To allow the beads to roll down the nape of your neck. “It’s tiresome, but nothing I can’t do.” “I’m assuming this is Jaesun’s little artwork project.” “Who else could it be?” Jungkook grins boyishly. “Once he decided to paint the inside the car using the leather seats as his canvas.” “Why don’t they ever discipline him?” you ask genuinely, tilting your head up at him and he matches the playful glint in your eyes before shrugging. “Probably because he’s the youngest and the only son, so it’s natural they spoil him.” “But this is a bit much, isn’t it?” You shake your head, voice pitching upwards into a whine. The irritation was leaking through the facade you’ve created, but all it does is make Jungkook’s grin widen. “It is. You know—” “Y/N!” There’s a call of your name in a screeching voice. “Can you come here for a second?” “Yes!” For the most part, the crayon is taken off and you breathe a sigh of relief. You look over to Jungkook as a tiny smile appears on your features. “See you.” “Y-Yeah.” His eyes linger on you as you leave. “I’m about to be late for work, so can you please bring this up to my husband?” Yijin hands you a wooden tray with a tall glass of some sort of sludgy green liquid filled to the rim. The drink stinks of kale and lettuce. You wonder if she’s trying to poison him. “He hasn’t gotten anything to eat yet and I’m worried. That man never takes care of himself properly. Oh, and I’d really appreciate it if you could Jaesun dressed. Don’t know where he’s run off to.” You nod and balance the drink up the stairs before coming to the familiar grandiose doors. You knock timidly. There’s a disgruntled noise of acknowledgment, one that signifies he’s inside but preoccupied. Still, you push the parted doors open and come forward with the tray. Namjoon never looks up at you, busy studying the files of documents. The room is warmer than expected, oaks and mahogany, paintings and bookshelves, a large desk that reminds you of a judge’s bench — imposing, commanding. Not unlike him. There’s a fireplace, two leather sofas facing each other and a coffee table in between, and above the mantle is another family portrait that exudes a kind of stiff perfection. You place the glass down on his disorganized desk, eyes peering up at the man. As you retract your arm, your skin brushes against a stack of papers and they’re knocked to the ground. He whips his head over, brow cocked. “I’m so sorry, sir,” you whimper. As you frantically pick them up, you bend over in front of him. “It’s fine.” You feel his eyes linger on your rounded behind before he looks at his document again. You mask a smirk. Namjoon mutters from the corner of his mouth, “Where are you from?” You purposely pause so he directs his attention to you again. “I grew up in the countryside not far from here, sir.” You hold the tray to your stomach, presenting a timid disposition as if his gaze weighs heavily on you. “And what did you do before you took this job?” “I was in university, sir, but I’m taking a break to save some money.” The man gives a pleasant nod. “What was your major?” “Education, sir.” You divert your vision elsewhere, but a sweet smile pulls on your lips. “I would love to become a teacher someday.” He hums in approval, “I could see you doing that.” “Daddy?” The conversation is interrupted by Sohee at the door. She’s dressed in her school uniform, but is nowhere near ready to step into a classroom with the way she’s teary-eyed and her voice croaks with a lump in her throat. “Mom’s not letting me study with Yeeun!” Namjoon exhales exhaustingly. He sits back in his leather chair, looking at the ceiling. Sohee’s eyes stings at how she’s evidently annoying her father. But you don’t dwell, bowing your head and dismissing yourself. // You would’ve never picked up this job unless you had to. Not even for the useless money. You detest education. Never did well, never had fun, never got along with anyone. Be a teacher? You could scoff ten times over. You hate children. You hate kids. They’re absolute brats. Noisy at their best and tormentors at their worst. There’s only a few perks to this job. Like right now. “I’m glad to be of service,” Jungkook breathlessly laughs. His hot breath ghosts along your cheek while your legs wrap and lock around his waist. A comfortable darkness surrounds you. The moonlight cascades through the small window, enough that you can see his handsome profile. And the slick, obscene sounds are covered by the dryer machine still rumbling underneath you. It has the last load of towels the housekeeper wanted to get done tonight — and it’s also helping Jungkook release his load into you. The vibrations of the dryer flow through your body, adding to his raw strokes and the moans choking out of you. It didn’t take much to convince him to sneak away. The one-dimensional family is completely oblivious too, sleeping upstairs in their warm beds. You’re tempted to whine Jungkook’s name louder and make one of them investigate. You wonder what the look on their face would be if they found their little maid and chauffeur fucking in the laundry room. Jungkook tugs down your dress further and gently noses your hardened nipple before his mouth travels upwards to the juncture of your neck. You feel his lips suck into your soft skin, but the fingers sunk into his dark hair tightens and you pull his head back. He gives a throaty groan, half-lidded eyes pinned on your face. You writhe against his hard chest every time his thick cock drags out of your walls. He’s bigger than you expected. Eager too. Jungkook is a healthy and young one, hips and strokes fluid albeit a bit fast and excited. You can tell he likes you a lot. “I-I would’ve never guessed you hated kids.” The boy watches how his cock enters you and disappears. Your pussy clenches around him and he sweats at his hairline, trying to hold back from cumming so soon. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you sing-song cutely and roughly pull him in by his shoulders, batting your lashes. “Can you kiss me, please, Jungkookie?” He nods enthusiastically and leans in to nose your cheek. Then, he tilts his head and your mouth meets his. Your lips immediately part to welcome him deeper and his hands force your thighs farther apart, fingers digging into your flesh. Jungkook’s tongue licks into your hot mouth, making you moan. Yet, the kiss is somehow sweet. Much too pure for someone like you. The two of you break apart, lips wet with his spit. “I-I’m close.” Jungkook’s strokes start to lose their rhythm. They become frantic. Frenzied. He can feel the shaking of the dryer jumping beneath you, how tight and wet you are around him. You watch him through hooded eyes, tempted to coo at him and tell him that he can do it — encourage him that he can release his load right into your womb. But not wanting to ruin his fun moment, you instead squeeze as tight as you can. Jungkook groans, hips jerking and he plunges deep inside your cunt to cum. He gives two more thrusts. His entire body trembles and he realizes you’re still unfinished. Even with half a mind, he has the courtesy to lick his thumb and rub at your clit. You writhe with moans of his name, holding him close and a few seconds later, you get to where you want to be. As you come down from your high, you pet him. “Good boy. Thanks for that.” “Y-You’re so pretty.” “Am I?” you hum and he nods madly. Jungkook’s sticky breath heaves, chest rising and falling and you wrap your arms possessively around his shoulders. Whining incoherently, he understands that you’re pleading for another kiss. He happily obliges and you angle your head to deepen it. The kiss is lazier. Languid. Giving you a chance to taste him properly. Jungkook starts to groan when you don’t pull away after thirty seconds. He tries to part, losing oxygen. But you keep him in your tight grip. And you inhale. It’s delicious. It fills you with a sense of euphoria, making goosebumps raise all over the back of your arms. It’s been a while since you’ve had a soul for yourself. And as it leaves his body, you feel him go limp around you. Jungkook falls to the tiled floor, leaving a sopping mess at your center. “Would you look at that?” A deep timbre sounds. He appears, manifesting himself across from you with the corpse in between. The corner of his thin lip is curled as if he’s impressed. His blonde hair looks white in the milky moonlight and the darkness causes his piercing brown eyes to glow. “Not too bad, peach.” “It’s so easy, it’s not even fun.” You hop down from the dryer machine. Taehyung’s devilish smirk grows. “That’s because you’re so naturally enticing.” You roll your eyes. He comes close, large hands lifting to cradle your cheeks. Taehyung kisses you without much warning — not that you need it — and he licks into your mouth, inhaling deep. He retrieves the soul you took, taking it right from your parted lips. The two of you part and the thin strand of saliva breaks. Taehyung boops your nose. “I always knew my succubus was a talented one.” You scoff. “Don’t act like you came here to praise me. You just wanted to collect the soul.” “Can’t I come here for both?” He lolls his head, another smirk gracing his perfect visage that’s been sculpted by porcelain angel tears. “But it looks like you don’t need my help, so I’ll be on my way.” Taehyung winks and takes the discarded body on the ground, disappearing with it. He vanishes as quickly as he came. After he’s gone, you dip your hand between your messy legs. It’s the last remnants of Jungkook and it’s salty on your palette when you lick your fingers. // The mattress is soft against your knees. It cushions and molds against you each time you push down. But still, your wrists strain against the hardened muscles and knots. Yijin hums, a pleased smile on her face. “A little harder please. And oh, up there. Yes, yes. That’s the spot.” You continue to massage her, making sure to knead your thumbs into the sweet spots. The madam of the house moans in satisfaction. If she wasn’t so annoying and if her soul wasn’t so bland to you — you would’ve taken it long ago. But well, she might be fun to have around a little longer when you start messing with her family more. “You’re good,” she hums. “Where did you learn?” “Here and there. My grandma had a lot of sore muscles, so naturally, I kind of picked it up.” In reality, Taehyung makes you rub his shoulders all the time. She looks like she’s enjoying herself, head placed to the side, eyes closed and the corners of her mouth raises. She’s melting under your touch. But even when she’s this relaxed, she still manages to yap. “It’s been so long since I’ve been treated like this at home. I used to go to the spa often but there’s nothing like a home massage,” Yijin mumbles, “Namjoon used to do it for me all the time before we had kids and then he got busy with work, and well, it’s the reason we have this big house.” She flips her head to the other side and you rub between her shoulder blades. “I used to be as pretty as you are.” You keep your voice quiet and meek. “Pardon? You’re still pretty, madam.” “You don’t need to flatter me.” “But it’s true…?” Your voice pitches upwards as if you’re incredulous as to how she could think otherwise. “You have a maternal aura about you that I don’t have and you’re an established professional. Women can only dream of having that.” Peering at her, you catch the way her smile sweetens. At the same time, her husband enters the bedroom. Sighing and pulling off his tie, he places his briefcase down and moves to the minibar. Namjoon pours himself a glass of whisky and collapses into the white armchair beside the modern standing lamp, thighs spread wide and rather inviting. You look up at him, lashes fluttering in curiosity. “What’s wrong?” Yijin opens one eye, clearly catching how stressed Namjoon is. “I found that damn punk’s resignation letter on my desk. He’s gone.” He lifts his glass, taking a long sip of the amber liquid and letting the glass rest between his fingertips. “Who?” “Jungkook.” “What?” Both of Yijin’s eyes peel back, pupils widening in shock. “How could that brat leave without warning?” “I don’t know.” Namjoon looks to the whiskey, exhaling yet again. “After years of working for us, he upped and disappeared. I guess workers are always like that. Sohee’s been crying and throwing a tantrum. But anyway, I need to hire someone new. I don’t know who’s going to work this far from the city though.” You continue rubbing Yijin’s back and you feel Namjoon’s gaze traveling to you from his place on the armchair. From the profile of your face, the nape of your neck, to the skin of your thighs that’s exposed from your dress being hiked up so you’re able to kneel on his mattress. Yijin makes a noise. “Well, there’s nothing we can do. Do you want a massage too? Y/N’s really amazing.” Namjoon looks away, tearing his eyes from you. “No. I’m fine. I only need to rest a bit before I have to go back to work.” His wife opens her eyes again and this time, she gets up. You lean back, allowing her to do so. “Oh my goodness! Your associate is coming for dinner tonight, isn’t he? I almost forgot!” She snaps her fingers and looks at you. “Can you please draw me a bath, Y/N? I have to look presentable.” // The business associate is Taehyung. You couldn’t roll your eyes any harder when you see the blonde seated on the leather sofa as if he owns the place, suit and tie crisp, shoes polished. You don’t know what he’s doing or how he even set himself in their lives, but you suppose you had planted yourself in this household in dubious ways too — with his help, of course. So you don’t question it too much. “I must say, this house is much more beautiful than I thought it was going to be.” “That’s all thanks to my wife,” Namjoon chuckles, hands clasped together. “She has a better sense of aesthetics than I do.” Yijin smiles. She’s dressed in another one of her rosy blouses and white skirts, polished without a hair out of place — to both play the role of the perfect wife and appeal to the handsome stranger. “Thank you. I wanted to be an interior designer a long time ago, so it was really fun to try my hand at it even if it’s not much.” “Nonsense. It’s wonderful. Do you still want to be an interior designer now? You certainly have the skills for it.” “Oh, no.” She bats the air with her hand. “I lost the dream when I got married and had kids. Plus, I don’t think I could ever work for anyone. It doesn’t really suit me.” “Ah.” Taehyung leans back, all too comfortable as he is playful. “You prefer reaping the benefits of your husband and enjoying yourself? Can’t say I blame you.” The corner of Namjoon’s mouth tilts while you approach with a bottle of wine, setting the crystal glasses down for them. “You know how women are.” “On the contrary, they’re the more intelligent ones for letting us do all the work while they take pleasure,” Taehyung says, causing the other man to laugh and agree. You round the table to pour him a glass of wine and Taehyung looks at you with that infamous smirk, but you try to not make eye contact for long. “Thank you.” You dip your head wordlessly. “Oh yes.” Yijin perks up. “Thank you for recommending the company that you did. If not, we wouldn’t have been able to hire Y/N.” “It’s not a problem at all. I’m always happy to help.” He smiles, taking the stem of the wine glass and rotating it to slosh the ruby liquid inside. “I take it she’s a good addition to the house?” “Yes, she is.” Taehyung exhales through his nostrils, lips adorned with a devilish smile. “I’m glad.” You return to the kitchen unscathed, but damning Taehyung in your head for messing with your game. Though your irritation can’t last for long when Ms. Yoo hands you a wooden tray heavy with bowls and dishes. “Can you bring this up to the master’s younger brother? He’ll be having dinner in his room today.” “Okay.” You knock on the door. There’s a pause and after a moment, you open it. Yoongi is in the same spot he was this morning, crouched over his desk with a red pen in hand, papers in front of him and round reading glasses perched on his nose. The curtains are drawn but the glow of the lamp gives him enough luminescence to work. “You can leave it over there,” he mumbles and you place it on the usual spot. The man never raises his head or pays any attention to you. Your brow cocks and you take the tall glass, deciding to bring it to him. “Here’s some water, sir.” And you purposely waver. The liquid sloshing on the sides and unceremoniously spills onto his lap. Yoongi jolts, arms lifting to save his papers while you sharply gasp. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry!” You fall onto your knees and begin dabbing all over his lap and crotch with your apron. Yet your antics doesn’t last for a few seconds before he’s brushing your hand away. “It’s fine. It’s just water.” You peer up at him through your lashes. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Kim.” “I told you to leave it over there,” he grunts, casting a measly glance at you. “But it’s fine. If you have nothing else to do, please leave. I have a lot of work to get done.” You rise to your feet and exit. He’s a harder one to crack. Those little tactics might not be enough, but you’ll get there soon enough. You’re certain of it. “Y/N?” There’s a strangled whimper and you turn around in the dark corridor to see Sohee emerge from her room. The area underneath her eyes are reddened, nose raw. Her whole body trembles as she sniffles. The girl looks small and vulnerable, almost like a puppy. “Is there something wrong?” you ask gently, akin to a mother cooing at her child. Sohee’s eyes flicker up to you. “Did...Jungkook ever tell you anything before he left?” You shake your head. “No. We were never that close. I’ve only spoken to him a few times.” She nods. There’s a beat of silence and you lift your hand to caress her hair. The girl is startled but then eases, even leaning into your tender touch. You draw your fingers through her long, straight strands, petting her gently. “I’m sure he left for good reason. Maybe something happened or it was a family emergency. He was always close to you, right?” Sohee nods again while choked cries come from her. “W-We were family.” You embrace her, patting her back and she leans on your chest. “You’re not alone, Sohee. You have me now and I won’t ever leave like Jungkook did.” She squeezes you back. But the moment is shattered by a grating voice of her mother. “Sohee! Where are you?! Get down here and greet your dad’s friend!” Her jaw clamps. She parts from you, rubbing her eyes. You watch her go and she turns around to look at you. You smile at her. // “Your maid outfit’s cute.” He appears. A creeping shadow casted against the wall first, then flesh that stitches into the room. You’re resting on your bed, leaning against the headboard and filing your nails one at a time — the yellow glow of the desk lamp giving you barely enough light. “I didn’t get a good look last time.” “What are you doing, Taehyung?” You blow against your index finger and finally ascend your gaze. “Just having a little fun,” he chimes and muses that— “You’re taking a lot longer than usual.” “Well, I’m just having some fun.” Taehyung scoffs. “Don’t take too long.” “You shouldn’t act like you’re busy when you’re not,” you bite back without missing a beat. His brow cocks, smirk playing on his lips. “I think it’s been too long since I’ve disciplined you.” Before you can react, he ambushes and pins you flat onto the bed. Taehyung hovers over you with a glint in his eyes, heavy body on top of yours, hips pressed together. He holds your wrists above your head, preventing you from squirming. But you make no attempts to do so, simply glaring at him like a petulant child. You’re neither surprised nor caught off guard. Taehyung always likes to be the one on top, in a literal and figurative sense. And truth be told, you don’t particularly mind. His pink lips are curled and he leans down to your neck. He starts to suck into your skin, rough enough to break through and your pathetic cries only spur him on. Making him smirk against you. But your fingers find their way into his hair and you yank his head back. Flesh coated in his saliva, a giant purple bruise is left blooming on your supple skin as the redness fades. “I told you no marks.” “You’re going to need it, peach,” he says with a mischievous grin and then vanishes. You’re left rolling your eyes. // The grandiose double doors have never been intimidating. Even when Ms. Yoo has warned you on your first day to not disturb the master working and to not approach unless necessary. As much of a brat as the five year old is, even he doesn’t come close to his father’s office. But to you, those doors have always signified that a very fun game is waiting behind them. Your knuckles rap against the wooden surface and you pull the golden handles without waiting for confirmation. Kim Namjoon’s seated in his leather chair behind the imposing desk, eyes flickering upwards and you smile, holding your tray higher. “It’s fruit, sir.” “That isn’t necessary,” he says and you feign dejection, downcast eyes, shoulder slumping. He swallows hard and then beckons you over. “You can bring it here.” You come forward and place the plate on a single empty spot on the desk not coated in file folders. You’re close enough that he catches a whiff of your scent and the hickey on your neck. A scoff spills from Namjoon’s chest. “You’re doing a lot of unnecessary things in my home,” he comments offhandedly, perhaps not for your ears to hear. It’s passive aggressive and you mask your smile. Namjoon looks at you. “I would prefer if you would work properly and complete your duties without doing much else.” You feign confusion. Wide-eyed blinking. Lashes batting. As if giving you the reason for his mention, his eyes linger at the hickey. In a delayed manner, your hand raises to the juncture of your neck, covering the spot Taehyung made like that alone could remove it. And then, you immediately drop to the ground on your knees. “I-I’m so sorry, sir. It...it wasn’t my fault,” you cry out, searching the floor as the volume of your voice becomes timid and shy. It isn’t hard to come up with an excuse. “J-Jungkook did it. I didn’t know what he was doing, but he cornered me in the laundry room and I..told him to stop...but…” He slams his desk. Hand curled into a tight fist. Making the pens on the surface jump. It’s startling and you look up at him, viewing just how upset he is. “He left the next morning and hasn’t been back…” “So that’s why he left. Why didn’t you tell me?” Namjoon stares at you in distress. “This is very serious.” You shake your head. “I was afraid of saying anything. I know Jungkook’s been here longer than I have, so I didn’t think anyone would believe me and I can’t lose this job, sir.” Your head tilts to look up at him, eyes gleaming through your lashes, lips pouted, still on your knees. “I’m sorry.” The man sighs. “There’s no reason to apologize. If he ever comes back, I’ll call the police immediately. No one in this household should ever feel unsafe. I’ll promise you that.” You nod and he helps pull you up by your arm. You stagger upwards and on weakened knees, you stumble. With agile skills Taehyung would be proud of, you land on the man’s lap. Perched on his spread thighs, your legs placed along one side, and hands securely on his shoulders. Namjoon’s steadied you as well with his own palms sprawled on the small of your waist. And your parted lips are gasping mere millimeters away from his. It’s an intimate moment. One where your gazes lock. One where you make sure lasts three seconds to imprint into his mind. And then true to the character you’ve created, you pull yourself away. You grab your chair and dip your head. “I’m so sorry, sir.” Before the master of the house can get another word out, you run out the room. The minute you’re outside, you run into Yoongi. Passing by, he cocks a brow at the way you frantically shut the doors and your breathing is laboured as if you ran a marathon. “Something wrong?” Your head shakes and you devilishly smile at him. “It’s nothing at all.” // It’s a game with these mortal men. You know they want you — that they helplessly dream about you at night. Your words, your lips, you crawling over to them and doing whatever they ask. Showing what reality could be. But the more you let them peek without giving it to them, the deeper they fall into your trap of honey. “What do you think?” You place the papers down, a tender smile placed on your features. “Shouldn’t you ask your uncle who’s an editor to look over your essay instead of me?” Sohee playfully sulks. “Yeah, but he’s always busy. I don’t want to bother him.” “You made a few errors here and the conclusion isn’t as strong as the introduction. I think you should expand on this point into one or two more sentences. But overall it’s very well written, Sohee. You might even have a knack for writing.” The girl nods with a grin and when you stroke her hair while telling her how proud you are, she looks up at you and leans into your touch. Ms. Yoo enters the dining room, endeared at the sight of you and Sohee sitting together at the table and working on her homework. She’s reluctant to interrupt but does so anyways. “Y/N, the master is calling for you.” The housekeeper never tells you for what purpose, but you have an inkling sprouted from your intuition. Swiftly, you leave and Ms. Yoo takes your place as Sohee continues on other assignments she’s able to do on her own. The pair of them are equally unsuspecting. It’s evening and long after dinner. The sun is dipping over the horizon, crimson shades fuzzy in the sky. Everyone is preoccupied and there’s no real reason why he should be calling you. But you don’t hesitate. Your knuckles rap against the grandiose doors. There’s a pause and you push it open. Inside, there’s a fire roaring in the fireplace — above the mantle is the family portrait — and the man is standing and staring at the flickering flames. His face casted by the warm glow and he’s nursing a glass of whiskey. Namjoon raises his head as you push the door back to where it was, leaving it slightly parted. “Good evening.” “Is there something wrong, sir?” He shakes his head. “Not at all. I’ve just been thinking and I...realized I haven’t been as kind to you as I should’ve been. It didn’t occur to me that this wasn’t a safe place for you and I want to change that. I don’t want anyone in this house to be afraid.” You know he’s referring to what you’ve accused Jungkook of doing and promptly you close the distance. Your steps are slow as your hips sway and you look at him through lidded eyes. “Sir.” You keep your voice low. “This has always been a safe place to me, because I know you’re here.” Your eyes locked into one another and a tense silence lingers. Finally, Namjoon swallows hard and diverts his vision. “Would you like a drink?” “I-Is that allowed, sir?” “I’ll allow it.” The suited man smiles and moves to sit on his dark leather couch. There are two couches facing one another by the fireplace with a coffee table in between, opposite of his desk and the bookshelves. A once private sanctuary meant for no one but him, yet you have an exclusive invitation. His thighs spread as he gets comfortable and he reaches for the fancy bottle of whiskey. Namjoon pours a glass of the amber liquid. It sloshes on the side and he extends his arm. You take it nervously as if you’ve never drank much before. “You don’t have to drink it all if you don’t want to.” “It’s not that.” You smile at him through your lashes. “I’m just wondering how expensive it is.” Namjoon scoffs lightly, but not out of malice or annoyance. It’s from endearment. “You don’t need to worry about that.” The rim of the glass is placed between your plush lips and you take a sip. It’s bitter, but slides smoothly down. He watches you and in the meanwhile, your eyes flicker away from him. Something catches your attention on a mahogany bookshelf, so you cross the room. You allow your knees to brush against his, the loose strands of your hair nearly skimming along his nose. Namjoon clears his throat, holding the crystal glass casually between his fingertips. “Can I ask what kind of perfume you use?” You twist around with another easy smile. “I don’t really use any, sir.” Bending over in his line of vision, you look at his stacks of books and other knick-knacks on his shelf. “You have chess?” “I do.” He places his glass down. “Do you want to play?” You turn around with another coy smile. “Can we really?” The darkness of the room thickens, fire crackling and sputtering in the background. The glow is dim against your profiles and casts your shadows along the wall. The game of chess has been set on the small table. You tell him you barely know how to play to which he replied he’d go easy on you. A few minutes have passed and you’ve moved a few pawns around. Yet, it’s intimate and quiet as if the room is hidden away from the rest of the house. Something you’re sure isn’t too far off. “Are you alright, sir?” you ask in a husky murmur, pupils flickering up to him as he’s mid-way from taking another sip of his whisky. “You seemed pretty stressed a few days ago.” Namjoon leans back into the seat. It sinks underneath his weight. His thighs are spread as you hold your knight, still debating on where to place it on the board. “I still am, but it's just the usual business stress.” “Your wife worries a lot.” You place the chess piece down and he leans forward again, capturing your pawn with one smooth move of his rook. “You don’t need to try to make me feel better. I know she doesn’t care.” “That’s not true,” you refute half-heartedly. “Why do you feel that way?” “It’s obvious,” he mumbles and takes another pawn of yours when you move it. “My wife is more preoccupied with using my credit card and all she does all day is nag which makes it worse.” You move your bishop across the board. “Because of her, we have to have two live-in maids in the house at all times,” Namjoon continues. The liquor makes it easy for him to relax and let the truth spill. He’s defenseless. “Sohee doesn’t get along with her at all and Jaesun isn’t disciplined whatsoever. Sometimes I wonder why my family is like this and where it went wrong.” The older man exhales and slides his king forward. He waits for your next move, but you don’t go. Your gaze is pinned on him and his eyes travel upwards to connect with yours. “It doesn’t need to be that way, sir,” you whisper. It’s your moment. You can feel it. And you disregard the game in favour of crawling towards him. The chess pieces knock over, some to the table and the others collide to the ground. He has no idea you were two moves away from checkmate. In seconds, you straddle his thighs. Namjoon’s at a loss, arms not yet touching you, but hands never pushing you off of him. His eyes have gone hazy. He’s completely entranced by you, bewitched under your spell. Vulnerable to your seduction and the wicked temptation you offer. “What are you doing?” His breath laboured and he tries to muster sternness to no avail, as if you shouldn’t entice him with such a dangerous game. The corner of your lip pulls into a devilish smile. “I’m doing to fulfill every single one of your fantasies, daddy.” And you kiss him. Slotting your soft lips against his chapped ones, letting them move gently. It’s a brief moment before Namjoon surges forward like a man possessed. Namjoon’s hands grab your ass and he pushes you forward until you’re sitting directly sitting above his crotch. You whimper, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. His brows furrow, mouth parting from the pain and you steal the chance to deepen the kiss. He struggles for control but you ultimately give it to him, feigning submission. It’s too easy. You roll your hips over his hardened crotch, feeling how your panties stick to your slick folds, and he grabs hold of your waist. The pair of you break away from the kiss with your arms wrapped possessively around his shoulders. “God, you knew what you were doing this entire time, weren’t you?” Namjoon’s chest heaves against yours. “Every time you fucking bent over. Every time you tried to play coy. Such a goddamn tease.” His fingers rub over your wet lips then down to your neck and collarbones. His hands travel to the low collar of your dress and then he tears it. The fabric rips against the threads and you whine in shock. But Namjoon never halts, undoing your bra and tossing it aside. He grabs a handful of your soft breast and pinches your nipples roughly until the bud hardens against the pad of his fingers. You sob out as he watches you through lidded eyes, mesmerized by the way your expression contorts into pleasure. “I can see why Jeon liked you so much.” “But I didn’t want him to touch me, daddy.” You pout at him. The thin layer of your panties and his slacks prevents you from feeling it completely, but it’s still dry fucking. “I-I only wanted you.” “And you’re going to have me,” the man grunts and pulls aside the skirt of your uniform. His hand dips past your thin, white underwear and his fingers feel against your folds. “Fuck,” he hotly exhales, “you’re soaked. Do you really want me that badly?” “Yes, daddy.” Without warning, Namjoon’s index and middle finger plunges into your cunt until he’s knuckle deep. You cry out, hugging him tighter to you and he pants, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Your cunt is so tight.” You squeeze around his prodding fingers. “Tighter than your wife’s?” Before he can answer, you kiss him again. Your sticky tongues interlace, sloppy and obscene. You taste his spit at the back of your throat — and it’s just the way you like it. The kiss lasts long enough that you can swallow his groan and you pull off his suit jacket. The rest of your dress pools around your hips. It becomes frantic after that, breaking apart just to rid of your clothes. He tosses your ruined underwear aside, but keeps the rest of his own attire on. It’s some kind of power play as if you should be the only one naked and vulnerable. Yet he’s oblivious to how you have him wrapped around your finger. “Tell daddy.” The older man’s hand wraps around your throat gently. “Have you ever been fucked properly before?” His slacks have been tugged down enough that his cock has sprung free and his other hand grips the base of it. The reddened tip leaks with a bead of precum and you eye how big he really is. It’s more than Jungkook’s but less than Taehyung’s. You shake your head and lie. “No.” Namjoon cusses. “Is that okay?” you timidly whimper and he smirks. “More than okay, baby. It won’t hurt too bad.” He guides his shaft to your pulsing cunt and runs the head of his cock along the collected wetness that has stained his pants and dripped to his leather couch. Both of you lower your heads, watching as he starts pushing through your folds. Immediately, your fingers tighten on his shoulders, wrinkling his expensive white shirt that was ironed by his wife. Namjoon shushes you. “Relax. It’s okay.” “I-It’s too much, daddy,” you complain in a pitched voice. “It’s too big.” His jaw ticks, fingers sinking deeper into the flesh of your parted thighs. “You can take it.” You nod and sink down on him slowly, making sure to draw it out as long as you can. And Namjoon’s head falls back. He groans and makes it balls deep inside of you. You make sure to tremble and squeeze around him, keeping his cock at a vice grip. “Is this okay?” “Uh-huh, sweetheart. It’s great.” With his eyes closed, he misses your smirk. You begin to fuck yourself onto him, feeling the pull and thrust of his big shaft dragging along your wet walls. The way your cunt stretches deliciously. Namjoon meets you half-way, hips thrusting upwards while you rock yourself against him. Your nipples are hardened and your breasts bounce in front of him. Tying the sight all together, you reach behind and pull the pins from your hair, letting it cascade down. You know it must be a sight for sore eyes. While you’ve never flaunted your appearance, you know you’ve been subtly altered to lure mortal men in. Your face and body are the accumulation of their fantasies. And it’s effortless to tempt them. To captivate their attention with a simple smile. You’ve looked at yourself enough times in the mirror to know that you aren't shabby too. “Daddy, it f-feels...so good,” the words are choked out of you, sobbed as you bat your lashes. Jungkook, the poor boy, was much more eager and sweeter. But with Namjoon, his experience is evident in his strokes. He’s rougher with the way he squeezes your ass until a handprint is left. There’s less regard with how he treats you, as if you’re just a pretty placeholder merely giving pleasure. His hard thrusts against your cervix would hurt if not for how the pleasure overtakes you. “You have to pull out, daddy,” you stutter. “I-I can’t get pregnant.” Your kind can’t carry children from mortals but he doesn’t need to know that. “I’ll do whatever I want,” Namjoon grunts, jaw clamped and brows furrowed. He sweats at his hairline. “I’ll cum where I want.” You give a loud and exasperated moan that you hope he enjoys. “B-But it’s not right.” “Shush. I’ll take care of you.” You squeeze around him again, hands tight on his shoulders. Namjoon’s eyes are shut as he revels in the feeling of you rocking against him and you smirk, looking down at him. At how pathetic he’s gotten. Just sitting on his lap and giving a simple kiss was enough to reduce him to this mess. From an established mogul in his forties into a helpless, hormonal teenage boy. In a few minutes, he’s thrown away years of marriage and loyalty for his wife for some maid’s cunt. A measly housemaid who’s supposed to be only a few years older than his own daughter. Taehyung was right — this is fun. At the same time, Sohee walks up the stairs while humming, hugging her textbooks to her body. She beelines straight to your room at the end of the other hall, wanting to show off how she’s finished everything and secretly hoping that you’ll gently stroke her hair like you always do. But as she passes by her father’s office, her ears catch a high-pitched whine. She stops. On sheer instincts, her head swivels over. And through the crack, she finds her dad’s backside. She sees the way you’re on top of him, naked, riding her father. Your eyes flicker to her through the gap. She gasps. Sohee backs away into the darkness. She turns around, a thick lump forming in her throat, her brows knitted together. But she doesn’t watch where she’s going and her mother meets her in the corridor. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be in bed, Sohee.” Yijin’s voice is grating to the ears and she frowns at her daughter’s disposition. The way her downcast head and eyes search the ground. She looks like she’s seen a ghost. “What’s wrong with you?” She doesn’t mean to — but Sohee’s eyes incidentally travel back to the grandiose double doors. And Yijin follows her line of sight. // “I can’t believe you’ve done this!” Her screeches fill the manor. It’s always been noisy, but never solely because of an individual and certainly never at this ear screeching pitch. “How could you do this to me?!” Yijin’s absolutely deranged. She’s throwing a fuss early morning after what she saw last night and retreated to her bedroom. She waited for him to return. Yet Namjoon never came to join her. Now she stands at the foyer with a suitcase that Ms. Yoo packed, but she has no plans of leaving. Instead, she’s tossing porcelain vases on the ground and tugging the tablecloth off of the table. The display case is open and fragments of antiquities litter the marble floor. Jaesun is crying hysterically at the staircase while rubbing his eyes with two tight fists. Sohee remains silent, standing at the top and looking down at her mother. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” The woman shrieks at Namjoon who stands there motionlessly, expression blank and impassive. It doesn’t seem like she’ll be satisfied until she gets a remorseful reaction from him or tears this entire house apart. Either of which you’d be amused to see. “You selfish bastard!” Although this was entertaining in itself. You’ve never seen her like this before. The once polished and poised woman has been diminished to this vengeful bitch that’s about to pop a vein — a version of herself that you always knew was hidden deep inside. Ms. Yoo is the only one who comes forward and tries to put a stop to it. “Please, madam. Don’t do this,” she pleads softly, tears streaking down her own face. Jaesun weeps. “Mommy!” “Madam, please,” Ms. Yoo begs as if she’s trying to placate a child throwing a temper tantrum. “You’re only going to hurt yourself.” “You can’t do this to me, Namjoon!” Yijin’s hair is all in front of her face in a tangled mess. Her dress is wrinkled and she’s bare feet. Crazed — just like her husband was last night….except in different contexts. Ms. Yoo starts to guide her away from the foyer to the front door, dragging the suitcase with her. “Even if you divorce me, I could still get the house! Get our kids! Namjoon! Fuckin— Namjoon!” Ms. Yoo pulls her out the door while crying and Yijin collapses at the steps as violent sobs wrack through her. The housekeeper sets the suitcase outside and looks down, hesitating. Namjoon deadpans, “Close the door, Ms. Yoo.” She shuts it. Fists bang against the surface for a moment before it stops, being replaced by the noise of wails. Instantly, Sohee runs upstairs, disappearing from sight. Namjoon turns away. Ms. Yoo sighs, taking Jaesun’s hand and comforting him. The only other person is Yoongi. His gaze is darkened and he leans against the wall with arms crossed. You turn and his eyes pierce into yours. But wordlessly, you bow your head to him and go on about your day. // The house is finally quiet. Just the way you like it. But it brews with a sort of intensity, a tension that doesn’t let you breathe easy. It was the calm before the final storm and your guard wasn’t going to be put down just yet. You knock against Sohee’s bedroom door and after hearing no protests, you open it. She’s laying on her bed, covers over her head, having skipped school today which no one blamed her for. You clear your throat, speaking gently as if you were cooing a puppy, “You didn’t have any breakfast, so I brought you hot chocolate, Sohee. I’ll leave it on your nightstand.” The mug is placed down and as you turn away, the sound of rustling slows your steps. She’s come up for air, hair in a disarray and covering her face, and she calls for you, “Y/N.” “Hmm?” “Are…..” She hesitates and you take the invitation to sit at the edge of her bed. The girl looks up at you after a moment. “Are you going to become my new mom?” The pause is purposeful. It makes it seem as if you’re considering it. Makes it seem as if you’re staring at her because you’re wholeheartedly endeared by her. And that nothing else matters. To top it off, your arms reach out and you hug her. Sohee is vulnerable, small against you and she eases in your secure embrace, allowing you to hold her. You even run your fingers through her hair, caressing her gently and she softly sighs, relishing in the comfort she never received from her own mother. In a lot of ways, you share many similarities with her. “I’m sorry, Sohee,” you murmur. “I didn’t mean you to see that. For all this to happen. I adore you and if you want me to be your new mom, I will, but it’ll be a decision made with you.” She nods against your shoulder and the corner of your mouth pulls into a subtle smirk. To think she would ask such a question merely hours after her biological mother was booted out the house is both astounding and unsurprising. It’s partly from her poor relationship with the woman and how she was charmed by you moments after your first encounter. A kind of love at first sight. Not unlike how most men succumb to your allure — yet differing from lust. Instead, Sohee has developed a familial affection towards you. But not everyone is as welcome as she is to the new change. “Did you have anything to do with this?” Yoongi asks you. A surprise that he’s stepped out of his bedroom for some sunlight. Or perhaps to find answers. You hum, continuing to place the stack of books back onto the shelf in the living room. “Maybe.” His cat-like eyes are focused, pierced into you with a kind of intensity that would make anyone sweat. But you aren’t anyone. “What are your plans? Is it the inheritance? The status? Namjoon’s money—” “Neither.” Finished with your task, you move to the kitchen. But Yoongi blocks the doorway, leaning against it and never moving away. You stop, allowing your bodies to press together, testing as to who will give in first. Yet, he never once yields. Wavers. You’re close enough that he can feel your hot breath against his skin and as his jaw clamps, your pupils flicker down to his pouty mouth. Against his own will, his eyes mimic yours. They follow to your own lips. And you smirk. It’s a heated moment and then you brush away from the sharp-witted man. // For a short while, there’s a mirage that the game has several winners. But the instant gratification comes with consequences and there is only one ultimate victor. “I’m terribly sorry, but I can’t work in these conditions. With the madam gone, it’s just too hard for me. I…” Ms. Yoo shakes her head tearfully, a wrinkled hand placed over her chest where her heart is. “I’ve spent decades working in this house, master Kim, and I think it’s time I retire and spend some time with my grandchildren.” Namjoon stares out the window, unable to work, unable to move. His frustration overwhelms him. “I won’t force you to stay, Ms. Yoo. Sohee and Jaesun will miss you, but you’ve done a lot for my family and I. We couldn’t thank you enough for your dedication and hard work over the years.” He is calm and she bows her head before retreating. You catch her in the corridor and she takes your hands, squeezing them and wishing you the best of luck with a sweet smile. After Ms. Yoo leaves, you wipe your hands against your collared dress. You knock on the grandiose doors. “Get out.” Disregarding his command, you enter anyway. Namjoon is disgruntled, seated behind his desk in his leather chair, a finished glass of whiskey discarded on the side. His hands are clasped together, elbows propped on the surface and he leans his head on his fingers. “What don’t you understand? Leave!” But you approach him until you can press your hands on the edge of his desk and lean forward. The once powerful man established in his wealth looks up at you, dark circles deepening, the wrinkle between his brows made permanent. He stares at you as if you’re a fearsome curse, a bothersome pest, a fiend. And you have to resist the delicious smirk that tickles your lips. “You did this to me,” he mutters, simmering in animosity. “You destroyed me.” You round the oak furniture and plop down onto his lap. Before he can shove you off, you grab his hair from the back of his head, letting the strands thread through your fingers, and you pull. He groans, chin lifting up. “You were the one who made the decision,” you tell him. “It’s you who became weak. You thought about me and even now, you still want me.” The edge of your mouth tilts and you watch as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat before you lean in, whispering in his ear, “You can’t stop thinking about me, can you, Namjoon?” “You’re a vixen.” “Oh, I’m much more than that.” You end up sinking to your knees and taking him to the back of your throat. He cums there, the taste salty and consistency thick — a kind of bitterness that you’ve learnt to find savoury. And Namjoon cums again in your tight cunt when you’re bent over his desk and he’s pounding into you, fucking you hard enough to feel his anger and for your ass to bruise against his pelvis. “N-Namjoon, it feels so good.” “Shut the fuck up, slut.” He sweats at his hairline, holding your hips and jostling you around as he chases his own release. You look across the room to the family portrait above the mantle and smirk to yourself. “I-I’ll spank your cunt again.” He couldn’t even scold you. He couldn’t blame you for ruining his marriage. You have him wrapped around your finger. // The photograph captured a moment of Namjoon holding newborn Jaesun, Yijin smiling with her arm looped around Sohee who was only eleven at the time. They’re in front of the house with Ms. Yoo beside them wearing a grin. She remembers that day, the family barbecue outside, the laughter and joyous atmosphere. Yet now, Ms. Yoo only sighs to herself and packs the framed picture into her duffle bag. “You’re still here?” Your voice nearly startles the old woman to death. She jumps and turns around, finding you at the doorway. “Yes, I was just finishing up. I didn’t realize I had so many belongings. I guess this is what thirty years gives you.” Ms. Yoo takes a gander around the room, what was her home, then to you. She never once notices Namjoon’s cum dripping down your thigh from your messy and puffed center that still delightfully aches. “I’m going to miss this place.” “Or you could always stay.” Not wanting to waste any more time, you take three strides and your mouth presses against hers. The older woman is shocked, eyes widened at your kiss, but you inhale. She goes limp against you. Her soul taken right from her. And Ms. Yoo collapses to the ground. You shudder at the taste, at how your guts coil inwards. It’s terribly bland. Her soul isn’t half of what it takes to satisfy you. Not like you’re surprised. As a succubus who’s meant to entice mortal men, male souls are the desirable ones. You wait for Taehyung to come pick up the corpse, but he never shows up and you curse him. He always finds a way to show his face and steal the good souls away from you, satisfying his own appetite and leaving the scraps left for you. But when it comes to souls that are bland to you and therefore bland to him, suddenly he has no business manifesting himself. You kick Ms. Yoo’s lifeless body and having no other options, you roll her heavy body with the rectangular carpet. You start sweating as you heave her up. But with enough effort, you manage to stuff her in the closet and shut the doors. Someone will deal with that later. // It’s amusing. Namjoon does everything within his power to act like nothing’s changed. That nothing’s happened and he isn’t missing his wife or housekeeper in his home. He grabs onto any semblance of normalcy, perhaps to cope with the changes of the past twenty four hours. He calls for dinner to be set at the usual time and you’re thankful Ms. Yoo made sure the fridge was stocked up before she was to leave. All you do is slap the container food into bowls and heat them in the microwave before setting the table as you usually do. The entire family gathers around the table — Sohee, Jaesun, Namjoon and even Yoongi. “Y/N will be joining us for dinner,” Namjoon suddenly announces as you set down the last bowl. Your brow raises and Yoongi’s eyes round but no one questions it. Not even Jaesun who often throws tantrums. The kid merely pouts. Never once lifting his spoon of rice into his mouth, putting on a defiant act, but you don’t care. If the brat wants to starve, he can starve. You sit down beside Namjoon, across from Yoongi and diagonal to Sohee. It’s tense at the table, the silence suffocating those around it. But you settle in comfortably and even pass some side dishes directly into Sohee’s bowl that you know she likes. Her eyes flicker up to you and a tiny smile tugs on her face. “Thank you.” Namjoon clears his throat and looks to his brother. “You were working on editing a science textbook, right?” “Biology,” Yoongi answers shortly. “For grade eight students.” “And how is that coming along?” They continue their conversation, making some small talk and you chew in your cheek while your foot lifts underneath the table. Your leg stretches and it grazes along the leg of the man across from you. Yoongi immediately freezes. His brown eyes pool close to black and he glares. But you don’t let up, stroking the inside of his leg as you eat and look away from him. Yoongi pushes away. You scoot yourself forward. He tries not to draw attention to himself. Asked another question, he gives half a mind to responding. Your toes slowly travel up to his thighs and then they tickle and twitch against his crotch. Yoongi’s breath staccatos. No one knows that you’re playing footsies with Yoongi underneath the table. That you can feel the way he hardens against his sweatpants. “What game do you think you’re playing?!” he harshly whispers after dinner when the two of you are away from the others. Yoongi corners you, his good looks sadly marred by his twisted expression. You blink, feigning ignorance. “What do you mean?” But the little act doesn’t faze him. You knew it wouldn’t work the second you met the man. “I know you have something to do with Yijin leaving.” “I didn’t do anything, Yoongi.” You grab his shoulders, pulling him closer until his body is pressed against yours and you grin, breath skimming along his neck. “The dominoes were already in place long before I came here. You know that too. I just needed to give it a little push,” you exhale the word and he can’t stop himself from swallowing hard. From staring at you. He eventually musters enough self-control to push you away and leave. You turn the corner, the darkness enveloping the corridor and bringing a sort of eeriness. But it might just be from Taehyung who you find leaning against the wall. His arms are crossed and he’s smirking. “Aren’t you having a little too much fun, peach?” “This is the best part.” You loll your head to one side. “Sometimes playing with your food before you eat it makes it much more appetizing.” He laughs, chuckling from his chest and the sound tinkles. “I taught you well.” Taehyung pushes himself off the surface and as he passes by you, he taps your butt. He disappears seconds later, leaving you on your lonesome to keep playing. // Everything is falling into place. It’s like you’re playing chess without an opponent, simply arranging your pawns as you’d like on the board. But because of how effortless and simple it is, it’s easy to get bored. One day you’re waking up to a blaring alarm clock and slaving after the whims of humans as their servant and the next, you wake beside Namjoon in the master bedroom, having taken the madam’s place. You slept on her sheets, on her pillow, beside her husband. There’s nothing fun about it anymore once you’ve won. You roll over to straddle Namjoon’s hips, placing his morning wood right under your center. He’s shaken awake by the movement and groans, rough hands instinctively coming to grab your ass. “W-What time is it?” his voice is still thick with sleep and you smile devilishly, rubbing your clit through your silk slip that barely covers your nipples. Your pink cunt is still swollen from last night’s endeavours, but you think one last one ought to be enough. You won’t miss his cock after this. “You were dreaming about me, weren’t you, Namjoon?” you whisper and before he can respond, your hands reach out, wrapping around his neck. He’s completely at your mercy. The man slowly blinks awake, coming to consciousness and a staggering exhale leaves his mouth as you position the bulborous head of his shaft to your folds. He mumbles something about how insatiable you are and lightly chuckles. But Namjoon should consider himself lucky. It’s not often you let the same human fuck you three times. He pounds into you, hips lifting off the mattress. The stretch of your pussy is rather pleasing, but with the repetitiveness, your mind wanders and your hands around his neck tighten. You cut off Namjoon’s airway and his eyes slam shut with a loud groan. You can practically feel his cock twitch inside of you. Unfortunately, the man loses it all too soon. It’s a bit amateurish for someone as experienced and punishing as he is, but you don’t blame him. Well...only a little as you lean down and capture your mouth with Namjoon’s before inhaling sharply. Out of the three times you spread your legs for him and the numerous times you let his cum leak out of your pussy and drip down your thighs, he only made you cum once. It’s kind of sad. Selfish. Once you’re done with him, he falls back. You hum to yourself as you climb off the man’s used dick and move to the vanity across the luxurious bedroom. You freshen up and pin up your hair, allowing a few strands to frame your face. After you’re satisfied, you grab Yijin’s shawl to cover your top half and you stride down the hall to Yoongi’s door. He’s at his desk as usual, red pen in hand, crouched over a stack of papers. But the curtains aren’t drawn, allowing the bright sunlight through his modest room. “Mornin’.” He turns around, brow raised, eyeing how you’re leaning against the door frame, casually greeting him in spite of being dressed in a measly scrap of fabric. “What are you doing?” You quirk your head. “Something we should’ve done a long time ago.” “And what is that?” “Hmmm, I think you know, Yoongi.” You flick a piece of dirt from underneath your fingernail. “Let’s not drag this on for any longer than we have to.” You stay ambiguous and he maintains an impassive expression. But his stoicness has no effect to deter you when you smile and approach him slowly. “You know, I was once like you. Complacent. Quiet. A little like Sohee too, maybe even more naive than she is right now.” “Once?” “A long time ago,” you hum. “I was going to get married to a bad, bad man until I became liberated.” You come close enough to grab a fistful of his hair at the back of his head. His head tilts upwards when you tug, powerless to your enchantment. “It’s okay to give in, Yoongi,” you whisper against his skin. “It’s okay to be selfish and indulgent. You’ve done so well up to now.” “What makes you think I’ll sleep with my brother’s mistress?” he asks in a harsher tone. “The whore that ruined his entire family.” You laugh. “That’s not very nice.” “But isn’t it the truth?” “It is. But I’m supposed to be irresistible to men. Your restraint is impressive, Yoongi, but it’s only natural that you give into your primitive needs or at least be honest with yourself. You dream about me, don’t you?” The ongoing silence makes your grin widen and your eyes glimmer in the morning sunlight. “You’ve fantasized about me a lot. You want me.” You lower yourself, hooded eyes connected with his. Your hair is messy, yet not in a disoriented way from sleeping. Yoongi smell it on you too — the sweat and musty scent. “You fucked my brother.” “And I can fuck you too.” You surge forward, capturing his mouth with your own. It’s different. Languid with the soft caresses of tongue, his lips not chapped but puffy. The kiss is slow and lazy. Not eager like Jungkook but not as rough as Namjoon. Yoongi sighs, savouring and truly enjoying it, and it’s something you lean into. You match his speed and rhythm and once you pull away, his eyes are hazy. Yoongi pants, swallowing hard. “Who...are you?” “Secret,” you sing-song and pull him towards you. The two of you nearly fall to the floor, though his bed is close enough in his small room that you collide against the mattress. The man hovers over you and you hold his arms in a vice grip. Cocking your head to the side, you giggle. “This is fun, isn’t it?” “You’re a heathen.” “Not quite, but close enough.” You grin and kiss him again. It feels good to. Not long after that, you’re beneath him and he’s bare, quiet without a single moan. His cock draws deep into you leisurely, languid rolls that’s not necessarily chasing for an end but relishing in the pleasure. “I was never going to fuck you,” Yoongi murmurs. “Even if I wanted to.” You pout. “Why not?” “Because I have dignity and respect for myself.” You scoff. “Guess you lost all that.” “No. I still do.” His voice is husky around the edges. “But if I give you what you want, maybe I’ll understand your intentions better.” The corner of your mouth curls and your hips lift to meet Yoongi’s. You squeeze around him just to tease. “And what do you think my intentions are?” “I-I still don’t know yet.” He sweats, hips sped up and then keeps a constant rhythm. “Why do you do the things that you do? Why did you try to tear this house apart? Gain Sohee’s favour.” Yoongi’s brown eyes pierce into you. He’s a perceptive man. “You don’t love Namjoon. I don’t think you loved Jungkook either.” “Jungkook?” “He would’ve never left like that out of his own free will.” “You’re smart,” you coo affectionately and run your hands through his fluffy hair. It’s such a shame he’s just a mortal. “I promise you’ll know by the end of this, Yoongi.” Another minute passes and Yoongi pulls out. You watch as he pumps himself thrice and finishes on your stomach with a quiet grunt, cum painting all over your flesh. You’re about to grab his shoulder to kiss him, but he parts your thighs and lowers himself. His mouth attaches to your cunt, forcing his wet tongue inside your used hole and he eats you out, licking at the juices that leak out of you. But he remains meticulous and careful, drawing unrestrained moans from your lungs. “S-So good…” Yoongi works you up until you feel hot all over your body and your hands have sunk into his head of hair, threading through the strands. As if that wasn’t enough, he sucks on your clit and inserts his index into your walls. He sinks deep and curls the finger against the perfect spot. Your back arches and you cum all over his tongue. He lets you ride it out against the stiff muscle and his plush lips before he’s lifting himself up, revealing all of your slick that’s coated his mouth and chin. “Thank you,” you pant, chest heaving. You gaze at Yoongi with heavy lids and you sit up. “I’ll give you the answer to your questions. Who I am. Why I’m here.” You cradle his cheeks in your palms and you lean forward. Yoongi’s eyes droop and he kisses you back, softly and deeply. You keep it slow too, savouring the taste of yourself on his palette and then, when the moment is right, you inhale. His lids open slightly, feeling himself weaken. Yoongi’s not sure if it’s from exhaustion, but as your kiss continues, his surroundings blurs more. He groans at the back of his throat, wanting to pull away, but without having the strength to. The world around him darkens. His consciousness lasts three seconds afterwards. Enough to realize you’re a monster. Yoongi’s body falls back onto the mattress. His soul has been consumed by you and as tasty as it was, you’re a bit regretful. You pull the plush blanket up to give him some modesty and you ruffle your fingers through his bangs. “Truthfully, I liked you the best in this house.” The sadness lasts another second before you’re humming and climbing off the bed. The job is finally done and you roll your shoulders, walking out the room. As you do so, your exterior finally sheds of your human disguise into your true form. While your face remains the same, your lips redden and your hair becomes luscious and longer, draping your backside. The white, silk slip morphs to a dress in the blinding shade of crimson. It hugs your body, from the dip of your waist to the swell of your breasts. And at the crown of your head, two small horns manifest. Downstairs, Taehyung is standing on the porch. He turns as you join his side and smirks. “About time you finished, peach.” He’s been watching Jaesun. The five year old is running around the backyard underneath the sun and flinging around the toys his wealthy parents got for him. He’s completely oblivious to the situation and unquestioning to Taehyung’s presence. Taehyung is the tamer of all brats after all. “Didn’t you say I could take my time to have fun?” “I think you’ve been having too much fun.” The corner of your reddened lips pull. “I don’t think so.” “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself though.” He lolls his head over and grabs a hold of your chin. Taehyung leans himself down to your height and comes forward for an invasive kiss. Without warning, he licks into your mouth and you moan helplessly, completely at his mercy. Taehyung’s tongue is sticky as he tastes you, calm yet impatient. It’s a pleasant kind of intimacy as he steals your breath. But when he starts to inhale deep, you bite him. Taehyung pulls back with a grin, the bottom of his lip split slightly. You pout. “You should at least give me some. I worked hard for those souls, you know.” He gives you a look. “Did you really?” “More work than usual,” you bite back. A black cat mewls at Jaesun. The kid swivels his head over, fascination growing as the feline hops from the fence to the grass gracefully as if inviting him to play. The cat has a short but luscious coat and its tail curls, green eyes wide. Jaesun instantly drops the ball he’s holding. His greedy hands extend and he follows the cat behind some bushes. There’s a flash of bright light and Jimin stretches himself out from his feline form. He cracks his bones and leans over, interrupting your conversation. “Thanks for the kid, Tae.” Taehyung waves. “No problem, Chim.”

Sohee wakes up to a silent house. There’s a strangeness in the air, a certain uneasy feeling in her body, but she dresses herself and continues her morning. It’s when the peace is ongoing that she searches for people, for her father first. She screams when she discovers Namjoon on the bed lifeless. No matter how much she shakes him or calls out his name, he never moves or twitches. He doesn’t breathe. The girl cries and runs to her uncle for help. But he, too, isn’t sleeping and isn’t resting like he appears to be. The man’s skin has gone cold, eyes shut tight, his lips pale. She cups a hand over her mouth, silencing a sob in the eerie house and she stumbles down the steps. There’s only one person left. One person to help her. And she sees you through the back door on the porch. Standing next to a tall man. Sohee’s confusion stops her tears while hiccups continue to wrack through her body. “W-Who are you?” The two of you turn at the sound of her voice. Taehyung grins. “Oh. Nice to see you again, little girl. Remember me?” Sohee’s eyes are swollen, cheeks stained with saltwater. Her body trembles as she grips the door frame. You coo at her, stepping forward with your arms open but she flinches. “W-What did you do to them?” You sigh, arms dropping to your side, yet your voice remains tender. “They got what they deserved, Sohee.” “W-W...h..at?” “They succumbed to their primitive desires and suffered the punishment for it.” “This is what you wanted, didn’t you?” Taehyung’s brow cocks and he smiles at her. “You were the one who summoned me here in the first place.” Confusion is marked across her visage — brows furrowed, mouth lopsided. But it was Sohee that called out to you and Taehyung. She was the one who began your assignment. She was the one who invited the pair of you into her home. Practically opened the door and ushered you in desperately. “All those nights of prayer, did you really think God would grant you such evil wishes to get rid of your family? You were praying to the devil, little girl.” Incubi and succubi like you and Taehyung need invitations to enter an abode. Yet Sohee handed the both of you that on a silver platter. Taehyung might’ve assigned the task to you, but it was a win-win. Not only could you grant her wish, but you could reap all the benefits by stealing the souls of her family members and indulging in their lust. “All those nights of wishing your mother would get hit by a car. That your brother would cease to exist. That your father would fail his business….” It was a victory from the start. You give Sohee a moment since it looks like she needs it. It’s understandably shocking. You were once in her position after all and just as surprised. But the realization seems to sink into her with the way her eyes widen. “I-I didn’t know this is what would happen!” “You wanted an escape from your life,” you say to her in excitement. There was one more benefit to this ordeal too — just as Taehyung has you, Sohee will become yours. “This is it, sweetheart.” If you didn’t know you would get such an endearing subordinate from all this, you wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of it all. But ‘subordinate’ and ‘underling’ are such unpleasant words Taehyung uses. Sohee’s more like a little puppy for you to love, mentor and show around. “Come with us.” You extend your hand, palm open to the sky. “We came all the way here for you.” Sohee looks at both you and him, brows furrowed, hesitation evident. “What will happen to me?” “You want to be like me, don’t you?” You smile at her along with Taehyung who remains patient. “I’ll take care of you and so will Taehyung. What else does this place have to offer you?” This is the true game of temptation. No one is ever forced into making a deal with the devil. It’s a choice. And one she takes. The girl lifts her arm, taking your hand. A bigger smile pulls on your features. And just like that, the three of you vanish together.

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