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Thirteenth Doctor Reviews: The Final Verdict (and Ncuti Gatwa is the Doctor)

In July 2017, Jodie Whittaker was announced as the Thirteenth Doctor, taking over Peter Capaldi’s Twelfth Doctor as the first actress to play the Doctor. Seeing the reaction to the casting led me to realise that I should see how she does in the series first before making any judgements, which I expressed in a November 2017 post that served as the prelude to this review series. Cut to May 2022 and Ncuti Gatwa was announced to be taking over as the Doctor after Jodie Whittaker announced her departure alongside Chris Chibnall the year before.

Given how much time has passed between July 2017 and now, it’s amazing to see how things have changed throughout this time. When I started this review series in October 2018, I had come out of a pretty toxic phase in my internet career (that almost saw me deplatformed) and was trying to find my feet after turning a new leaf. Now in October 2022, I’m talking about the things I love (from a new point of view) while maintaining a balance between my personal and online lives. It’s almost like this review series has seen me through a significant phase of character development.

Now with Jodie Whittaker and Chris Chibnall’s era on Doctor Who well and truly over, I take a look back at my reviews and give my final reflections and verdict for the whole era.

Series recap

These are recaps of each series’ reviews with some extra thoughts made in hindsight.

Series 11

Series 11 is the series I have the most positive view of, though part of it can be attributed to me being a bit dense on SJW politics and trying to find ways to justify it in my head. Graham O’Brien, Ryan Sinclair and Yasmin Khan join the Doctor as her diverse fam from different walks of life. There is no major running story arc in this series and given what we saw in the next two series, it’s another reason why I see this series in a more positive light.

Despite this, the series does still have its flaws. Why wasn’t Krasko’s past elaborated on so as to give context on what people he murdered or why he, as someone presumably from the 52nd century, thought the Civil Rights Movement was when “things started to go wrong”? Why did the Doctor criticise Jack Robertson for shooting the giant spider even though she knew it was dying anyway? Why wasn’t Manish the one who shot Prem instead of that other guy?

According to Bowlestrek (and possibly some others), this series felt like a slight on white men and single fathers, with several episodes containing at least one villain-coded white male, but I honestly didn’t feel that vibe when I first watched those episodes. I probably wouldn’t feel that vibe if I watched those episodes again, but hey, I’m not a white Canadian who’s bitter about SJWs taking over multiple fandoms, I’m an Asian-Australian with niche interests who’s becoming bitter at the world around me and trying to understand why.

Also, I said that I liked The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos, but given how Chibnall admitted that it was his least favourite script of his entire tenure because the filmed version was only the first draft (he didn't have time to do a second draft because he was helping all the rookie writers and doing rewrites), I want to come out and say that I only liked the episode ironically.

Series 12

With the previous series electing not to bring back any old enemies, Series 12 decided to revisit the broken trend (following the return of the Daleks in the previous New Year’s Special, Resolution), with the first returning villain being the Master, who was last thought to have been killed on the Mondasian colony ship as Missy. This series also reintroduced two-parters after doing away with them in the previous series. Notably, I went on holiday just as the third episode aired and came back just before the fifth episode premiered on Australia, so I ended up having to write up reviews for three episodes in the space of five days. Luckily, I wrote down some notes on my phone so I was able to get them out quicker.

Unfortunately, this series is what redpilled me to the SJW agenda going on in the Chibnall era. Orphan 55 served as nothing but a lecture about climate change without at least a decent resolution to the remaining characters featured in it. Then we get to the biggest turning point of the series, namely the Timeless Child revelation. After the Master revealed to the Doctor that he destroyed Gallifrey in Spyfall Part Two, the Doctor meets a woman named Ruth Clayton in Fugitive of the Judoon, who is apparently revealed to be a previously-unknown incarnation of the Doctor, known as the Fugitive Doctor. The relation between the two Doctors (apart from them being the same) is left up to the viewer until the Master tells the Doctor about the Timeless Child and that she was said child, at which point it becomes implied that the Fugitive Doctor is indeed the Doctor’s past incarnation, on top of being specialer than special.

Yaz does get a bit of a highlight after Graham and Ryan’s mini-arc in the last series, but it isn’t much. Sadly, Graham and Ryan leave the series in Revolution of the Daleks. I probably would have liked them to stay for another year given how things would unfold in 2020, but the filming for Series 12 ended at the end of October 2019 and the filming for Series 13 wouldn’t commence until November 2020, so the timing wouldn’t have been right there.

Series 13

After two years of waiting and an absolutely atrocious promotion campaign that didn’t reveal the release date until three weeks before the premiere, Series 13 came out in a different format than usual. Due to the coronavirus pandemic, Series 13 was slated to be only 8 episodes long instead of 11 (which was already cut down from 13 and a Christmas Special back during the RTD and Moffat eras), which was later confirmed to be a six-episode serial collectively titled Flux along with three specials, one of which was additionally commissioned for the BBC’s Centenary. Following Graham and Ryan’s departure, their place in the TARDIS would be taken by Dan Lewis from Liverpool.

After my redpilling in Series 12, I decided to hold the series to a higher standard than I did before. The series in general was alright, but it still had its flaws; we were jumping all over the place with plot threads and characters who served little relevance until the end, every second episode was extended instead of balancing the lengths of each episode, and the main villains of the series (Swarm and Azure) ended up being overshadowed by lesser villains (the Sontarans and the Grand Serpent) in the finale.

Unsurprisingly, this series doubled down on the Timeless Child revelation, with a woman, revealed to be Tecteun, confirming what the Master said to the Doctor at the end of Series 12, essentially killing off any potential speculation to the contrary. Surprisingly though, the revelation was not elaborated on further as the Doctor dumped the fob watch containing her apparent past into the TARDIS, thereby pussying out of the double-down. The last two episodes of the series were negatively rated because of those reasons.

As for the specials, Eve of the Daleks was a boring New Year’s Special with an annoying female guest character, while Legend of the Sea Devils was a pretty good Easter Special with good Cantonese language representation, though it felt like it could have been a regular episode seeing as it was only 50 minutes long and it had no mention of Easter. Although The Power of the Doctor, in the end, never revisited or retconned the Timeless Child revelation, it brought back old companions and Doctors for the memberberries. So admittedly, while Flux in itself was abysmal enough for me to nearly null out my review score, the 2022 Specials kind of redeemed it, but not by much.

Top 5 good things about the Chibnall era

Even among Chibnall’s disgraces to the franchise, we did get some gems out of it. Not gonna lie, it was a bit complicated trying to think of good things to talk about this era.

1. Can You Hear Me?

This episode actually got me to open up about some people from my past and later, it inspired me to talk about the IRL context to the characters and elements featured in my personal project when I started the Kisekae Insights series in the second half of 2020. This episode also provided significant character development for Graham, Ryan and Yaz where it was scarce in other episodes. Of course, there was one element in the episode that in the end, I didn’t like, which I’ll talk about in a bit.

2. Returning characters

In Series 12, we had the surprise return of Captain Jack Harkness in Fugitive of the Judoon before he returned again in Revolution of the Daleks. Unfortunately though, his actor, John Barrowman, had been cancelled earlier in the year due to accusations of sexual harrassment that resurfaced while similar accusations were being raised of Noel Clarke, who played Mickey Smith.

Series 13 saw the return of Kate Stewart with a rather lackluster level of involvement, though that was later made up in The Power of the Doctor, which also featured the return of Ace, Tegan Jovanka, Mel Bush, Jo Jones and Ian Chesterton alongside Graham and Dan. In addition, the First, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh and Eighth Doctors also appeared as projections or figments of the Doctor’s consciousness while at the end, the Tenth Doctor returned as the Fourteenth Doctor in a surprise move to prepare for the 60th anniversary specials in 2023.

In all honesty, the returning characters and allusions to past series during the Chibnall era felt like memberberries because they were coming off a series that was lackluster at best and disgraceful at worst. It didn’t look so bad during the RTD or Moffat eras because for the most part, the former was riding highs of success by the time Series 4 was being produced, while the latter was celebrating the 50th anniversary of the series.

3. Stellar performances from some actors

A couple of actors I’d like to highlight are Sacha Dhawan and Jo Martin, who respectively played O, the Spy Master and Ruth, the Fugitive Doctor. Although they played characters who were admittedly unnecessary (the Master had died and I would have rather had the Rani return, while Ruth, you’ll see later), they did a great job expressing their characters regardless, particularly since the Spy Master felt like a ripoff of John Simm as Harold Saxon, but with a classic series twist (shown by his readoption of the TCE and unique TARDIS among other things) and the Fugitive Doctor felt more like the Doctor than the Thirteenth Doctor was.

I will say though, it’s funny that the Master and Ruth were announced to be getting Big Finish audio spinoffs up to a fortnight after Legend of the Sea Devils aired when it previously took years for the Ninth, Tenth and Eleventh Doctors’ content to be cleared; this happened in August 2014, while in January 2018, the Twelfth Doctor’s content was cleared, just over a week following the broadcast of Twice Upon a Time. From the announcement, it appears as though the Thirteenth Doctor’s content was cleared six months before The Power of the Doctor was released, though it can be argued that the episode was completed a year before. But hey, I suppose if anyone in the Chibnall era deserves a Big Finish spinoff, then it’s the Master and Ruth.

4. Graham and Ryan’s character development

Although Series 11 had no clear-cut story arc, the relationship between Graham and Ryan follows a minor arc in the series as Graham tries to get Ryan to acknowledge him as his stepgrandfather, with a bit of r/FellowKids to boot. We see this in a few episodes where Graham tries to get Ryan to fistbump him only to be rejected, then in the finale, Ryan finally reciprocated Graham’s fistbump. Additionally, this series also shows Graham trying to deal with Grace’s death before finally learning to move on.

5. Select episodes

Aside from Can You Hear Me?, Nikola Tesla’s Night of Terror, Praxeus and The Haunting of Villa Diodati are some of the best episodes out of Series 12. The Haunting of Villa Diodati did seem a little boring at the start, but it all changed once the Lone Cyberman showed up. While there wasn’t an episode in Series 11 I would say that I really liked, Village of the Angels is probably my favourite episode from Series 13; likewise with The Haunting of Villa Diodati, the first half doesn’t have a lot going for it, but the second part is where the episode starts to get good. It’s likely that way because both episodes were written by the same writer (Maxine Alderton) and they were both broadcast before their respective series finales.

As for the specials, Resolution was a pretty great episode, followed by Legend of the Sea Devils and admittedly, The Power of the Doctor.

Top 5 bad things about the Chibnall era

Unsurprisingly, this series feels like it has more negatives than positives, particularly in Series 12 and 13. Originally, my plan for this section was going to be “top 5 bad things about the Chibnall era apart from the Timeless Child”, but I just had to put it in anyway.

1. The Timeless Child storyline

The Timeless Child storyline makes up the main background arc of the Chibnall era, making it a highlight and one of the reasons why this era isn’t fondly received by a lot of people.

The first mention of the Timeless Child was in The Ghost Monument, then it wasn’t mentioned again until the end of Spyfall Part Two, when the Master revealed that he destroyed Gallifrey because of what he learnt about the Timeless Child. In Fugitive of the Judoon, the inclusion of Ruth and the Fugitive Doctor was a secret addition on Chibnall’s part (I wouldn’t really say last-minute tbh) that played into his plans for the arc. Ascension of the Cybermen featured a C-plot centred around an Irish policeman named Brendan, which was revealed to have been a cover-up for the Timeless Child revelation that would be elaborated on in the next episode, The Timeless Children.

The story goes that Tecteun, a Shobogan and one of the indigenous beings of Gallifrey, found the Timeless Child beneath a wormhole into another universe and adopted them. However, upon discovering their ability to regenerate following an accident, Tecteun studied and experimented the Timeless Child for a way to replicate this regeneration, presumably killing them multiple times in the process while doing so (as regeneration is normally seen as the death of an incarnation). Eventually, Tecteun was able to replicate this on herself and as a result, she gave this power to other Shobogans, but limiting them to a maximum of twelve regenerations. This was the creation of the Time Lords, thereby making the Timeless Child their genetic template. Later on, the Timeless Child would come to work for the Division alongside Tecteun and eventually, Tecteun would have their memories removed as they became the Doctor and decided to leave the Division (presumably in their Ruth incarnation).

With this, the Doctor is no longer originally from Gallifrey and the First Doctor is not the first incarnation of the Doctor that we know. The Doctor ends up being a chosen one that spawns a group of chosen ones only to end up being reduced to the group they spawned. If this origin story was exclusive to the extended media (like the story of The Other) then it would have been fine, but it was introduced on-screen on a series where TV is god. It raises too many questions and plot holes, it makes the Doctor’s past complicated (as if it wasn’t complicated enough) and it was never deeply elaborated on again.

Later on, near the end of Flux, the Doctor would come into possession of the fob watch apparently containing all the lost memories of her past as the Timeless Child, but when she had the opportunity to open it and regain her memories, she decided to dump it in the TARDIS.

In an interview with Doctor Who Magazine, Chibnall admitted that the inspiration for this storyline was personal as he was adopted and he wanted to explore the adoption myth, about where someone is from versus who someone is. Mind you, in a world where #StopAsianHate crybabies think asking “Where are you really from?” is a microaggression, this really isn’t a good look. Also, being adopted doesn’t give Chibnall an excuse to disrespect nearly 60 years of canon the way he did. In a video breaking down the story of Flux and putting it into context with the Timeless Child arc, Chibnall justifies pussying out of the double-down as a “be careful what you wish for” kind of thing, but by that point, we had waited two years for something significant to come out of it, so it just felt a bit spiteful.

People say that the Timeless Child twist allows new stories to be told and adds mystery to the Doctor’s character. In regards to the first point, The Time of the Doctor already did so by giving the Doctor another regeneration cycle. While it does potentially allow alternate and non-canon Doctors to be canonised, I’d rather it be left to the fandom or extended media and not dictated by the TV series itself. In regards to the second point, unpopular opinion, but the Doctor doesn’t need any more mystery than they already have since the Moffat era, particularly when it destroys canon the way the Timeless Child arc did. We know that the Doctor is a Time Lord from Gallifrey who stole a TARDIS and became a renegade. Thanks to RTD, we know that the Time Lords fought the Daleks in the Time War and both sides were wiped out thanks to the Doctor. Thanks to Moffat, we know that neither the Eighth or the Ninth Doctors fought in the Time War, but a previously unknown incarnation who future incarnations rejected, but later came to accept. The Hybrid arc ended up being unnecessary, but it wasn’t as bad as the Timeless Child arc was even with the answer being non-existent or deliberately ambiguous. Also, over 30 years have passed since the Valeyard’s introduction and nobody ever bothered to address his existence yet. What gives?

Before the double-down, a lot of people were hoping that the Master was lying about what he discovered. Some went the easy way out and speculated that the Master was the Timeless Child, but I don’t agree with it because the Master’s past is likely just as complicated as the Doctors and even then, it doesn’t address Ruth’s place in the timeline (I’ll buy pre-Hartnell at best, but not between the Second and Third Doctors).

However, my ideal solution would be that the Doctor is actually cloned from the Timeless Child and that Ruth is one of the Timeless Child’s incarnations. The Time Lords attempted to clone the Timeless Child but ended up creating an ordinary male Time Lord instead, so they dumped him somewhere and left him to live his life as he did. The clone eventually becomes the Thirteenth Doctor and meets the Timeless Child again, who is now in her Ruth incarnation, and after a few encounters, she encounters Ruth getting their memories erased by the Division. The Doctor somehow saved the Timeless Child and set them up to live a new life; maybe they became a child again without their memories and the Doctor brought them back to the planet where Tecteun found them and they began walking hand-in-hand towards the future, or the Doctor managed to prevent or interrupt the process and save Ruth while also defeating the Division for good before leaving her to live her own life in her TARDIS. Or better yet, don’t do the Timeless Child altogether and instead address something else that’s important, say the Valeyard. Though I must say, given how this arc was never elaborated on in the 2022 specials, I think I could buy the Doctor being a clone of the Timeless Child and Tecteun deciding not to reveal that the Doctor was a clone so as to save her the trouble of wondering whether she was the clone or not, like the Space Beth arc in Rick and Morty.

Personally, I will not accept that the Doctor was the Timeless Child or had any incarnations pre-Hartnell First, including Ruth or the Morbius incarnations (which I believe to be Morbius’ incarnations); William Hartnell’s First Doctor always was, and always will be, the original Doctor.

2. The Doctor’s callous dismissal of Graham’s cancer concerns

Towards the end of Can You Hear Me?, Graham tells the Doctor about his fear that his cancer might come back before the Doctor responds, “I’m still quite socially awkward” without any reassuring words. In another interview with Doctor Who Magazine, Chibnall states that Graham’s cancer concerns were inspired from his own cancer diagnosis at the age of 22. After learning this, I honestly think that scene is totally something r/thathappened, but this is fiction, not real life, so it wouldn’t have hurt to put in some reassuring words because fiction doesn’t have to follow real life to a T. Heck, even Chibnall admitted in that interview that there was another version of that scene where the Doctor does give Graham some reassuring words. Here, I’ll give you my example that I quickly made up in the first hiatusbreaker update: “I should say a reassuring thing now, shouldn’t I? I’m still quite socially awkward, but I just want you to know that you’ve got me, Ryan and Yaz in the TARDIS, and we’ll be there for you if anything happens, just as you have been there for us.”

OK, so people might not know how to respond to something they have no experience of (which is understandable) and Chibnall was just trying to express that through the Doctor, but you’d think that the Doctor has lived for so long that they would at least be able to show empathy and support, particularly in an episode that mainly focused on mental health issues. Even with context, the way the scene was written still makes it look like the Doctor was being callously dismissive of Graham’s concerns. Yes, I know the Doctor said she was socially awkward and that I said in my review that her fam should have known this because they’ve been with her for so long, but sometimes opinions change when you get a better understanding of the situation from different people and it still doesn’t excuse the way she dodged the subject.

Look, being adopted and being diagnosed with cancer when you’re young are relatable situations, but this feels like Chibnall brought them up as excuses for the flawed writing in the respective episodes.

3. Hamfisted SJW politics without entertaining stories to back them up

The third episodes of Series 11 and 12, Rosa and Orphan 55, were the two series-requisite SJW-fest episodes focusing on social justice topics, namely racism and climate change. Unfortunately, they didn’t end up being as entertaining as expected; Rosa failed to elaborate on the background behind Krasko’s imprisonment and racism, while Orphan 55 failed to provide a decent resolution for Bella and Kane, making the episode’s ending feel like the Doctor lecturing the audience. I suppose improving the episodes the way I suggested wouldn’t do much to change the nature of how the episodes were presented, but at least it would make it entertaining.

Arachnids in the UK and Revolution of the Daleks featured Jack Robertson, an American businessman who served as an expy of Donald Trump, though in retrospect, given events that happened in the past two years, he could also be seen as an expy of Joe Biden, given how Robertson was shown to hate Trump in-universe (meaning that he could only be a Democrat candidate) and his actor, Chris Noth, is a liberal who got #MeToo’d in 2021. It’s so hilariously pathetic.

War of the Sontarans was an entertaining episode, but it featured Mary Seacole, who some say wasn’t actually a nurse even though she did help save lives on the battlefield. I didn’t know a lot about Mary Seacole and I’m not from the UK so I didn’t really care much for her character, but I believe that Seacole should be applauded for the good deeds she did, whether she was actually a nurse or not.

4. Lack of promotion and elusive marketing

I don’t know if it’s just me, but there hasn’t been a lot of marketing surrounding this series, with each series only getting trailers or release dates three weeks before their premiere. Even in the RTD or Moffat eras, the promotion of the series typically began at least three months before they were due to premiere. During Series 13, however, the BBC were being deliberately elusive with their promotion of the series with their #FindTheDoctor ARG that didn’t even reveal an airdate followed by an advertising campaign in Liverpool that also involved them deactivating their social media accounts for a day. The fact that the whole campaign won awards just shows how people will accept anything when they’ve been blueballed for two years.

On top of that, there used to be a lot more behind-the-scenes insights before the Chibnall era with Doctor Who Confidential, but as the years went on, the featurettes became shorter, now going up to around 5 minutes at most. Additionally, from 2009 to 2013, there were quite a number of documentaries produced as retrospectives to the series, with a majority of them being produced by BBC America in response to the series’ growing interest in the US and the 50th anniversary. All this reduction in behind-the-scenes content just goes to show how far this series has fallen over the past decade.

5. Poor writing and lack of significant character development

While Graham and Ryan did get significant character development throughout their appearances on the series, the Doctor and Yaz didn’t get much compared to them.

The Thirteenth Doctor ended up being an expy of the Tenth and Eleventh Doctors without any attempt to make her unique or understanding how the Tenth and Eleventh Doctors’ qualities make them unique. The Thirteenth Doctor’s moral outrages at people killing enemies (like the giant spider, the Sontarans and Marsissus the Sea Devil) were clearly ripped off from similar notions from the Tenth Doctor, along with his aversion to weapons, survivor’s guilt and “no second chances” attitude, but Chibnall didn’t seem to understand why those elements mattered to the Tenth Doctor nor the potential consequences of keeping the enemies alive. Aside from the Timeless Child, there’s no particular moment in this series that cements the Thirteenth Doctor as the Doctor (yes, I mentioned that thing at the start of Series 11, but that was post-regenerative and things have changed since then). I suppose the Doctor’s character can be summed up by whatever it says on the TARDIS Data Core article about her, but I don’t think that it’s enough.

Yaz got very little character development during Series 11 and 12, but then Series 13 went out of its way to regress her character development. OK, so we know that Yaz is a socially-awkward Muslim who was bullied at school and suffered racism while working as a police officer, but meeting the Doctor changed her life and eventually, she decided to quit the police force after randomly going on secondment for extended periods of time (and those ten months she spent being obsessed with finding the Doctor). Upon being separated from the Doctor and Dan in the Crimea and being transported to the Temple of Atropos, we saw that she had to have “WWTDD” - “What would the Doctor do?” - written on her hand (like a child) when at that point in her adventures with the Doctor, that phrase should have been the first thing that came to mind, not to mention that she has also been a police officer, potentially signifying that Yaz is too incompetent to rely on her instincts and logic. Later on, when Yaz gets trapped in the 20th century with Dan and Professor Jericho, she couldn’t recall the year they had to get back to even though she and Dan were supposed to know. They only figure it out once they get to Joseph Williamson’s tunnels in Liverpool and they find the door leading back to 2021. I don’t really believe in it myself, but there’s a reason why people like Bowlestrek and NoelZone call her “Yaz the plank”.

Throughout her run, the Doctor seemingly showed favouritism towards Yaz, which the fandom soon spinned into a ship known as “Thasmin”. This ship was explored during Series 13, but it was kind of rushed and there wasn’t much development because Chris Chibnall and Matt Strevens never planned on exploring it, though the resolution was okay. Eve of the Daleks apparently showed Dan “outing” Yaz to the Doctor, but I’m not LGBT so I can’t really comment on it.

Dan, like Yaz, doesn’t get a lot of character development, but I feel like we know enough about him in his first episode to conclude that he doesn’t need it that much, not to mention his sense of humor and the meme of him being “Evil Dan”.

And one more thing, I’ve got to mention Ryan’s dyspraxia, because it was only mentioned in like five episodes and it didn’t play that much a part in his character development nor do we see it affecting his adventures with the Doctor negatively. Chibnall could have written Ryan with autism and I wouldn’t be able to notice this.

A common rebuttal for the Chibnall era being bad because of its wokeness is “It’s not the politics, it’s the writing!” Um, is it possible that both things (among others) could have contributed to the Chibnall era being bad? Let me put it another way: The series isn’t bad because the writing is woke, but the series is woke because the writing is bad.

During the RTD and Moffat eras, the showrunners were working on other shows while working on Doctor Who; RTD was producing Casanova while working on Series 1, then was overseeing Torchwood and The Sarah Jane Adventures throughout Series 2 to 4 and even continuing after stepping down as showrunner in 2009, while Steven Moffat was producing Sherlock alongside Mark Gatiss simultaneously throughout his run as showrunner. Chris Chibnall, however, was not shown to be overseeing anything else while realising his “five-year plan” for Doctor Who (though given the coronavirus pandemic, he probably couldn’t do anything else even if he wanted to), so in all honesty, he had no excuse for the quality of writing we got from him. On the other hand, though, the Chibnall era was all about fresh blood in the name of diversity, so I could probably forgive the amateurish quality as being produced by rookies and not by experienced individuals. We can only hope that the RTD2 era will really bring back the show we knew and loved.

Final points tally

So in a few episodes, the Doctor has been giving out points, which she changed to gold stars and stickers as the series went on. Out of interest, I’ve been keeping a tally and I’d thought I’d sum everything up to see how everyone did.

Yaz: 20 (10 points S11E5, gold star S12E6)

Ryan: 20 (gold star S11E6, gold star S12E6)

The Doctor: 5 (given by Ruth S12E4)

Graham: 10 (gold star S12E6)

Gabriela/Adam/Jake: 10 (one gold star each S12E6)

Jack Harkness: 10 (gold star NY2021)

Mary Seacole: 15 (gold star and sticker S13E2)

The Master: 15 (self-granted gold star and sticker BBC100)

Yaz and Ryan are at equal first with 20 points, Mary Seacole and the Master are at equal second with 15 points (if you want to count the Master giving himself points), Graham along with Gabriela, Adam and Jake from Praxeus are third with 10 points and ironically, the Doctor is last at 5 points.

Final era rating and verdict

Specials are included in the ratings.

Series 11: 81/110 (73%)

Series 12: 83/110 (75%)

Series 13: 18/90 (20%) Hypothetical: 47/90 (52%) Conservative: 27/90 (30%)

Final era total: 175/310 (56%) Hypothetical era total: 211/310 (68%) Conservative era total: 191/310 (61%)

In the end, despite all the flaws and disgraces I pointed out with the Chibnall era, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I compared Chris Chibnall with Kamen Rider producer Shinichiro Shirakura and writers Shoji Yonemura and Toshiki Inoue; that comparison continues to stand even at the end of the Chibnall era. In terms of wokeness, to compare the three showrunners of the revived series up to now, RTD is someone who has been woke from the beginning, yet knows how to subtly incorporate politics in a way that still makes the episode entertaining; Steven Moffat is someone who had to learn how to be woke judging from the reception of Series 10; while Chris Chibnall is the r/FellowKids version of woke. The way the Chibnall era was presented seemed to be appealing to a new generation of younger viewers (given the modern music used in Series 11 and its promos back in 2018), but as time went on, it seemingly stopped appealing to some of the more hardcore fans with the Timeless Child arc. Would I still go to say that Chibnall is a hack writer? Maybe. I’m not a good judge of acting skill or film production, but I like to think that everyone, cast and crew alike, did an okay job with what they were given; undoubtedly, this era would have been better with different people at the helm.

Look, I’ve been trying to stay positive about this entire series, but I think we all need to accept that this era of Doctor Who sucked. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt over the past 2-3 years, it’s that sometimes, the people you hate, or the people you think you’re supposed to hate, were right about some things (but not necessarily everything) all along. In politics, it might be the people you call conspiracy theorists, grifters, anti-vaxxers, facists and Nazis, or even individuals like Donald Trump, Elon Musk, Nigel Farage, Pauline Hanson or Craig Kelly. In Doctor Who, it’s the people you might call racists, sexists, or NMDs (Not My Doctors); the people you gatekeeping assholes don’t consider fans because you think fans have to accept everything offered to you like consumers without being allowed to complain. Yes, and I am really saying this, people like Bowlestrek, Nerdrotic, Heel vs Babyface and NoelZone were right all along.

Although I don’t join in the fan discourse of the series on social media, I have to condemn the actions of people like Trilbee (Mr Tardis), Jay Exci and Tharries; Trilbee’s videos on Bowlestrek incited his fans to harass him, with one even making repugnant remarks about him doing something unspeakable with dogs, Jay Exci debating Bowlestrek and failing to properly counter anything he says while giving the excuse that he was tired, and Tharries used Bowlestrek and NoelZone for clout before turning on them. I’m just listing vague examples here, but I’m sure other people may have receipts. You may think NMDs are bad, but let me tell you that the people calling out NMDs are just as bad as them, so they should stop trying to act like they’re innocent of their actions just because they have the clout of their enabling fanbases.

When I started these reviews, I set out two questions that I hoped to answer with these reviews. I briefly answered them in the prelude for the Flux reviews and I’ll answer them again in this post:

1. How does Jodie Whittaker’s performance set the bar for other Doctors after her, male or female?

If it weren’t for Jo Martin and The Power of the Doctor, Jodie Whittaker would have set a really low bar for future female Doctors, but now, I can say that maybe another woman can become the Doctor in 10-15 years and do a better job than Jodie Whittaker, regardless of whether you feel she did her best with the material she was given. As I said in the aforementioned post, just because one Doctor acts one way doesn’t mean another Doctor will act the same way and as such, each Doctor should be measured and judged individually.

2. Will the so-called “SJW/feminist/diversity agenda” affect the way I see and think about Doctor Who?

Admittedly, it did, but it was mostly because Chibnall was being rather unsubtle about it, and even then, all the SJW red flags I found, especially in regards to Rosa and Orphan 55, got me talking about racism and climate change among other things. I was hoping that I’d find something offensive about Hong Kong, but it’s good that there wasn’t; in fact, Legend of the Sea Devils did a good job in Cantonese language representation, something that was last seen briefly in the third episode of the Third Doctor serial, The Mind of Evil. There was also the case of Chibnall adding LGBT characters for representation in Series 11 before they got killed off, but Praxeus did it right because the LGBT representation wasn’t killed off in the end.

Looking forward to RTD2 and Ncuti Gatwa

Admittedly, I was going to do a post about Ncuti Gatwa’s casting back in May, but I never really got around to it, so I’m doing this here.

So right after The Power of the Doctor concluded, we got a sneak peek into the 60th Anniversary Specials, then a couple of days later, the new Doctor Who logo was unveiled, reverting to a classic design, while also announcing that the BBC are joining forces with Disney on Doctor Who, with the BBC continuing to broadcast the show in the UK while the rest of the world (except Ireland) will have it exclusively on Disney+. Also, Disney is expected to give the show higher budgets than before, on top of Sony having a majority stake in Bad Wolf Studios, so yeah. OK, I can kind of get behind putting it on Disney+ worldwide so everyone can get it at the same time (and without ads unlike on BBC America), but why does it have to be streaming-exclusive? In Australia, the ABC will no longer be airing new episodes as a result and I don’t know how many other countries will get screwed over because they can’t watch it for free.

Honestly, the only reason why the series is still on the BBC in the UK (aside from them being the creators of the series) is because RTD is a fervent supporter of the BBC and the licence fee. I know that streaming appears to be the growing trend nowadays, but aside from it being free, I watch the episodes on ABC iView because I know they’ll be available on there right after they premiere in the UK so I can watch them as quickly as possible in order to avoid spoilers. While the Disney+ deal does make it easier for some people to watch the episodes, it’s actually become harder for others to do the same. I hope the BBC and Disney are able to chalk up some kind of a deal to give broadcasting rights to other broadcasters including the ABC, but if nothing changes by November next year, at least we’ll always have torrents.

Going into conspiracy theory territory and speculate on why things are the way they are. I suspect that RTD was asked to come back after the outrage that the Timeless Child arc caused; the BBC fired Chibnall and decided not to renew Jodie Whittaker’s contract, but were told that they could do a final series to wrap things up. Jodie leaving after three series would be believable, but Chibnall leaving after one Doctor would be surprising. If it weren’t for RTD’s willingness to return, the series may have been cancelled and The Power of the Doctor would likely have ended with a fade to black. Other conspiracy theories say that “Chaos in Cardiff” actually happened and that Chibnall and Whittaker were going to quit after Series 11 but were asked to return for Series 12, but that kind of neglects Chibnall’s “five-year plan” comment from the start of his era. There’s also the “hostile takeover” theory I covered in the Flux prelude which kind of turned out to be true but not really. I guess time will only tell.

UPDATE - 19 November 2022: So RTD has come out and confessed that he asked the BBC if he could come back to Doctor Who as early as December 2020 following the lockdown tweetalong for The Runaway Bride when he suggested the idea to Catherine Tate, who then suggested it to David Tennant. Once he knew that both of them were willing to return, RTD emailed Piers Wenger, Director of Drama at the BBC, to throw the idea out there. While this may have been the case, there is still the possibility that either person wanted to return to Doctor Who or the BBC was willing to let RTD come back because of the outrage that the Timeless Child revelation caused. Given what we would later see during Series 13, it was a good thing that RTD decided to come back when he did.

When Ncuti Gatwa was announced as the Doctor back in May, my first thought was, “Well, at least the Doctor’s a man again.” Jo Martin aside, Ncuti will be the first black actor to play a numbered incarnation of the Doctor and his incarnation is slated to be the first gay Doctor. RTD has stated that Ncuti’s casting wasn’t about diversity and representation, but a couple of days before that, he stated that he had someone else in mind before Ncuti came in to audition and “simply stole it”, which makes me a little suspicious, but at any rate I look forward to seeing how he does as the Doctor.

Aside from Ncuti, Yasmin Finney, a trans-female actor, has been cast as Rose and is slated to be the new companion with her debut being in the 60th anniversary specials. On top of that, David Tennant has been announced to be returning as the Fourteenth Doctor alongside Catherine Tate, (the late) Bernard Cribbins, Jacqueline King and Karl Collins, reprising their roles from the RTD era. Neil Patrick Harris has also been cast as a villain who is apparently slated to be the Celestial Toymaker, but further details aren’t known as of yet.

UPDATE - 19 November 2022: Apparently Millie Gibson has been cast as Ruby Sunday, who will be the Fifteenth Doctor’s first companion. So is Rose going to be in Series 14 or what?

The three 60th anniversary specials are due to air in November 2023 before Ncuti’s first episode is expected to premiere “over the festive period” in 2023. In the review for Eve of the Daleks, I was raging about why RTD couldn’t do Series 14 early in 2023 before the 60th anniversary specials, but I can sort of see why the arrangements are what they are now.

While the Chibnall era all but killed off most of my interest for Doctor Who, RTD’s return reinvigorated it and now, I would like to announce that I intend to continue reviewing new Doctor Who episodes, even if only for the content. At the start of this review series, I had plans to give up this series if the next Doctor was a woman, but now, I’m happy to remain as a casual fan (this would be the same if Jo Martin were actually announced to be the next Doctor). My focus in the Chibnall era was seeing how the SJW agenda would affect how I see the series; for the RTD2 era, my focus will change to seeing how RTD does (in writing and the SJW agenda) in comparison to Chibnall.

This series of reviews has been simultaneously posted to a Google Site which I share with my friends on my personal Facebook account. This was because I was still hesitant at sharing my personal project outside of my Facebook friends back then and I also wanted to share my findings on the Chibnall era without revealing this Tumblr to anyone, not that anyone would care nowadays. For future reviews, they will be exclusive to Tumblr and I won’t be doing the bookending prelude and epilogue posts for the era, just the ones for each series.

I would like to acknowledge everyone who read and liked my reviews over the past four years, even if they were few and far between. I would also like to acknowledge Blogtor Who, as it was the site where I got most of my review header screenshots from (as shown in the collage below). Like I said, I’ll be back for the RTD2 era, but until then, feel free to follow me and check out my content both related and not related to Doctor Who, such as Kisekae Insights, Doctor Who 10 for 10 and my reviews of Koei Tecmo’s Warriors games, which are being lined up for future release.

Once again, thanks for following the Thirteenth Doctor Reviews and I hope to see you around.

#doctor who #thirteenth doctor #doctor who review #thirteenth doctor review

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ladyartemesia · 3 years

Text

All I Want For Christmas is You

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Female Reader

Summary: When Park Jimin is unable to escort his precious sister through the gauntlet of corporate holiday galas, he blackmails his best friend Taehyung into being her chaperone. After all, who better to safeguard his headstrong sibling than a man who would never want her for himself? (She and Tae have spent the better part of a decade mutually disliking each other, and that’s putting it mildly.) Yet, even the best laid plans may go awry at Christmas and Kim Taehyung is about to discover that the girl he never wanted has become a temptation he cannot resist...

Genre: Comedy • Fluff • Smut

Tropes: Brother’s Best Friend (Reader is Jimin’s Sister) • Enemies-to-Lovers

Collab: This work is part of the Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tropes Collab featuring original holiday themed works by @ppersonna • @xjoonchildx • @underthejoon • @yeojaa • @untaemedqueen • and @snackhobi

Word Count: 17K (I know—I am shocked too honestly)

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: suggestive photographs • mention of accidentally being hit with a baseball • hints of jealousy and possessiveness • light tit slapping • explicit sexual content • m/f oral sex • consensual unprotected sex (shield it before you yield it y’all) • Viola’s mirror kink makes yet another appearance •

Acknowledgements:

To @ppersonna (Lindy) @underthejoon (Fal) and @xjoonchildx (Ana) you guys are my heart. Your support, willingness to read (and re-read) and give honest feedback made this fic special. Your friendship is my daily dose of awesome. Truly, I love you.

To @untaemedqueen (D) all of the above applies to you, but I owe you a little something extra for the LITERAL HOURS you spent in the doc with me. This fic would not be here without you. You kept me moving. You inspired me. You were amazing. Thank you so very much. This story is lovingly dedicated to you.

To @hobi-gif for being the most thorough and incredible beta reader and for having all the important girl chats with me. I think you learned more about my past than you wanted... Either way you made this story better and I am profoundly grateful for the hours of time you spent. I have removed all the Hope-No-No words in your honor.

To @lemonjoonah as always, you knew EXACTLY what I needed to tweak to make this story work. (Gotta pass that Lemon Litmus Test or no dice lol.) My lovely soul twin. You’re a bloomin’ rockstar.

Please Picture This Taehyung:

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Yes. Because you absolutely owe me.”

“Then send me a bill, not your unmanageable harpy of a sister.”

Jimin raised a single unimpressed brow.

“Kim Taehyung. It was exactly five years ago today that I carried your drunken naked ass two miles in the rain after you set your clothes on fire and sprained your ankle at that Beta Phi party.” He paused dramatically. “Do you remember what you said to me that night? After I deleted several pictures off phones and paid off half the party to keep it out of the papers?”

The man in question shifted uncomfortably.

“That incident is a bit hazy in my memory. I’m not sure I recall—”

“Jiminie—you’re the best and I—I owe… you. I owe you the most, Jiminie. I do—I owe you a favor—one BIG favor—anything you ask… Even though... I actually like being naked. I don’t think we need clothes. We should all be naked. Everyone. Then there would be world peace.”

Taehyung’s jaw dropped.

“You RECORDED IT?!”

Jimin grinned, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

“Naturally. And I had it all ready to go—just in case you needed extra convincing.” He crossed his arms and fixed his best friend of nearly fifteen years with a triumphant smirk. “I’m calling in that favor today, Taehyung. Now are you a man of your word or not?”

“He did WHAT?!”

Your mother winced.

“Jimin was... uncomfortable leaving you alone for the holiday season. He normally accompanies you to the galas but this year—”

“This year I was going to go alone and finally build my reputation as an asset to this family!”

Park Soomin sighed as she watched her daughter pace fiercely around the living room of their luxury suite.

“No one doubts that you’re an asset, but… in light of recent events...”

Rage and embarrassment flared up in your chest before you could stop them.

“This is about Milo… isn’t it?”

The silence that greeted your statement was confirmation enough.

“Are you ever going to trust me again?” you whispered.

“Oh sweetheart... it isn’t you we don’t trust...”

Tears burned at the corner of your eyes, but you ruthlessly blinked them back.

You would play along with their humiliating schemes.

For now.

“So which one of Jimin’s Ivy League brat pack did he blackmail into babysitting me?

For the first time in the entirety of the conversation, your mother looked truly nervous.

“Kim Taehyung.”

You tripped over your own feet and face-planted into the sofa.

“Jungkook, I need to look into faking my own death. Nothing too over the top. Just a tasteful disappearance—”

The man in question could barely restrain his grin.

“You don’t pay me nearly enough to deal with your mother in the event of your tragic demise and miraculous resurrection.”

“I could pay you more.”

“Or,” Jungkook replied with a heavy dose of judgment coloring his tone, “you could put on this ridiculous tie and stop trying to weasel out of it.”

“Sometimes I wonder why I pay you at all,” Taehyung growled, yanking the tie from the younger man’s grasp. “Clearly I’m not the one in charge.”

“Your words, sir, not mine. Now shall we go over the details and itinerary?”

If Jeon Jungkook wasn’t the best executive aide in the city (and one of his closest friends) Tae would have drop-kicked him right then and there.

“Could you at least try to look like you’re not enjoying this?”

“I’m sorry, sir. It was insensitive of me to ignore your suffering in this delicate time. The trauma of escorting a beautiful woman to a series of glorified buffets weighs heavily upon you.”

Taehyung tightened the tie so aggressively, he almost strangled himself.

“Beautiful woman?!” he wheezed. “We’re talking about the girl who showed up to our formal graduation party looking like she just escaped from Azkaban.”

Jungkook bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully.

“Tae… how long has it been since you’ve actually seen Ms. Park?”

“Seen? Maybe three—four years.”

The heir-apparent of Kim Holdings avoided the public end of corporate culture like the plague, preferring to leave the requisite schmoozing to his personable cousin, Kim Seokjin.

However, he had crossed paths with his adolescent nemesis in... other ways.

Taehyung was romancing a lovely young socialite who suddenly ghosted him after someone told her that he wanted at least eight naturally-birthed children.

Soon after, your favorite charity received an anonymous 30,000 dollar donation requesting that you be featured in the dunk tank for an upcoming benefit carnival and then the same anonymous patron paid for at least fifteen little league teams to attend.

In retaliation, someone petitioned the National Aviary Society (chaired by a very influential senator’s wife that no one ever refused if they wanted their permits to go through) to make Taehyung the MC at their annual awards ceremony—knowing full well he was allergic to birds (not dangerously allergic—just enough to be miserable).

Taehyung had sniffled and sneezed through approximately one hundred parrots, parakeets, and other assorted fowl until he was ready to commit murder.

The last several years had been littered with similar incidents of the two of you taking thinly veiled potshots at one another.

“I can’t imagine she’s changed very much,” Taehyung bit off absently. His mind was abruptly consumed by how he could get revenge for those demonic birds.

He didn’t notice the smile creeping over Jungkook’s face.

“No, sir. I’m sure she hasn’t changed at all.”

Taehyung had only ever had the wind knocked out of him once before.

He was Dionysia High School’s star pitcher for three seasons and during one particularly tense game against JY Prep, Lim Jaebeom whacked a line drive right into his solar plexus.

That’s how it felt to look up and see you at the top of the stairs.

In his head, you were still the mischievous imp from his childhood. Every prank he played was directed at the fierce little fiend with braids and braces who’d knocked him and his date into the university fountain while experimenting with her friend’s skateboard.

But she was gone… and in her place was something far more dangerous.

A woman.

Silken fabric wrapped tightly over curves you definitely didn’t have four years ago. That wild hair had been tamed into shining waves and pinned elegantly at the nape of your neck. The wicked slit that traveled all the way up your thigh teased a smooth shapely leg that all but demanded the viewer fantasize about running their hand up the length of it.

Suddenly it was very clear why Park Jimin wouldn’t let his sister venture into the corporate cesspool alone.

Because the sight of you could make a man desperate.

Betrayal—of all things—slowly crept over Taehyung as you descended toward him like some sort of angel floating down from the heavens.

His mind went blank. Just watching the seductive shift of your hips as you swayed ever closer felt like a violation of his friendship with Jimin. He could feel the judgmental stares of an imaginary Bro-Code Council boring into him from on high.

“I see you’ve recovered from your memorable tenure as the Aviary Society’s Master of Ceremonies.”

And just like that the brat was back.

Taehyung breathed a hefty sigh of relief, secretly thrilled to be in familiar territory with you.

“Naturally I was delighted to help Senator Mitchell’s wife. In fact, Mitchell’s office just fast tracked all my pending permit requests for the new year.” He tilted forward, coming into your space a bit. “I should really send you a thank you card.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you scowled, breezing past him like an indignant queen.

Tae could practically see the steam pouring out of your ears.

“Of course not,” he chuckled.

The first gala of the holiday season was an extravagant annual affair hosted by Min Corp., a Seoul based investment firm that commanded billions in assets. This year, the theme of the event was the Joseon Dynasty and the entire ballroom had been gloriously transformed into a stunning celebration of the Min family’s royal heritage.

Attendees were gifted their own traditional fan, each uniquely crafted by artisans from Damyang. Taehyung’s was all black with bold silver calligraphy while yours was a beautiful bamboo and silk piece decorated with pomegranate trees.

You had already whacked three people with it by the time dinner was served.

“It really is a pity these fell out of fashion,” you lamented. “They’re quite useful.”

“You are deranged,” Taehyung mumbled, massaging his temples in exasperation.

“Nonsense. I only fanned those who deserved it.”

“Harkins?”

“He was staring at my rack for a solid minute.”

Taehyung could hardly blame the man, it was a battle he himself was losing after all, but Harkins was twice your age and married—therefore his ogling was in especially poor taste.

“Okay... What about Kang?”

“He was verbally abusing one of the waitstaff.”

“Alright, fair enough, but why on earth would you go after sweet old Mrs. O’Malley?”

“She was about to grab your ass.”

Taehyung’s mouth dropped open.

“She’s eighty-five!”

“And still kickin’ apparently.” You shook your head in disgust. “As if I’d whack an eighty-five year-old woman for anything less than non-consensual touching.”

“I- I- mean—surely you must be mistaken,” he coughed.

“Oh, there’s no mistake. That nasty old crone is a serial offender. She likes to play it off as dementia, but she’s as sharp as a tack. Last year she got a whole handful of Jimin. Honestly, I’d call the police on her, but the commissioner is her grandson so I doubt I’d get very far.”

Taehyung turned to the woman in question just in time to see her totter lecherously toward Jung Hoseok, fingers already twitching in anticipation.

“Is nothing sacred?” he mused hollowly.

You shrugged.

“Many people who accumulate as much as our families have start believing that they are entitled to whatever strikes their fancy.” Your eyes met his with a hint of bemusement. “Surely you should be used to this sort of thing by now?”

“Yes, but I was hardly expecting it from little old ladies!”

The remainder of dinner was a terse affair where you pretended he didn’t exist for the entire meal and he in turn pretended that the spunky young heiress seated to his right was the most darling creature to ever walk the earth. By dessert she was ready to get married and you were ready to vomit.

Afterward, Taehyung found himself quickly converted to your views on fan usefulness as you began strolling through the crowd intent on strengthening your family’s corporate ties.

“Kim Taehyung,” you ground out through clenched teeth, “how am I supposed to do business if you keep stabbing everyone I speak to!”

“I don’t know what you’re implying. I’m simply not used to carrying one of these. I may have accidentally grazed a few overzealous individuals—”

“My last three conversations have been rudely disrupted by the blunt end of that accused fan.”

Taehyung crossed his arms smugly.

“And what of it? Jimin sent me along to keep an eye on you and the gentlemen in question were hardly behaving themselves. No one has to put their hand in my back or lean that close to me when they’re talking business.”

“That’s because no one wants to get that close to you,” you replied sweetly. “You’re gross.”

A devastating grin slid slowly over his features as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

“I can think of several women who might disagree.”

He just barely caught the hitch in your breath before-

“Like who? Miss Blushes-and-Giggles from dinner?”

“Jealous?” Taehyung drawled cockily.

“Only in your dreams, Kim.” Then, with a deliberate flick of your fan, you turned your back to him. “I’m headed for the ladies room. Do yourself a favor and don’t follow me in.”

It was twenty minutes before Taehyung realized that you slipped out the back entrance of the restroom.

It took another ten for him to locate you on the balcony flirting outrageously with Min Yoongi.

The young heir of Min Corp. was just leaning closer to whisper sweet nothings in your ear when a black fan slid right in between the two of you.

“Lovely weather we’re having,” Taehyung observed cheerfully. His eyes bounced between you and Yoongi with barely concealed fury and you let out a miserable groan.

“Mr. Kim,” Yoongi cleared his throat significantly. “What an… unexpected surprise.”

Frustration clawed at your chest as your overbearing guardian nodded smugly in response.

It was time to teach him—and Jimin—a lesson.

“Yoongi,” you sighed, sliding your hand pointedly through the crook of his arm, “I’m not feeling at all well. Would you perhaps… escort me home?”

Taehyung suddenly looked as if he’d swallowed a live octopus.

Yoongi grinned, clearly thrilled with the prospect of simultaneously spending more time with you and irritating Taehyung.

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Jimin is gonna kill me,” Taehyung grumbled as he watched Min Yoongi help you into the passenger seat of his Aston Martin.

An ugly green feeling he refused to identify twisted sharply in his gut when you smiled coyly at the other man.

“This is ridiculous,” he snarled to no one in particular before yanking his phone out of his pocket.

Jungkook picked up on the second ring.

“Sir?”

“I need you to drive to Ms. Park’s apartment and tell me if she goes in alone or if Min Yoongi goes in with her.”

“You want me to what?!”

“Just do it!” he snapped, downing an entire glass of champagne before signaling his own driver.

Fifteen minutes later his phone vibrated from the car seat next to him.

1 New Message from: Jungkook

Her building has four separate entrances. Which one do I watch?

Taehyung could practically feel the vein pulsing in his forehead as he scrolled through his contacts.

You picked up on the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“Oh it’s you… Wait—how did you get this number?”

“Jimin. Obviously. Now please answer the question.”

“Oh a ‘please.’ Who knew you had manners?”

“Answer the question, Park. I’m tired.”

The distinct sound of a zipper unzipping carried through the speaker.

“I’m at home, of course. Where else would I be? I just got here like a minute ago.”

He had a sudden vision of Min Yoongi helping you out of your dress. His grip on the phone tightened.

“Are you alone?”

You snorted.

“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”

Taehyung saw red.

“I’m coming over.”

There was a loud crash and several colorful words in at least three different languages.

“Wha- No! I’m trying to go to bed!”

“With who?!”

“With myself, you idiot!”

“Prove it!”

“Fine! I will!”

The line disconnected and Taehyung swore loudly. He was just about to direct the driver to your building when his phone went off again.

1 New Message from: Park Gremlin

He almost choked on his tongue.

You were clearly in the middle of undressing and—in your irritation—probably hadn’t looked too carefully at the picture you sent.

At first glance it was simply a shot of your empty room (presumably “proof” that you were alone) but you neglected to consider the floor-length mirror hanging in the far corner…

A mirror that showed you angrily holding up your phone with your gown pooled deliciously around your waist and the soft round swells of your breasts strapped into lacy red lingerie.

You were exquisite.

A fierce, hot sensation gripped him ruthlessly, and this time there was no mistaking it.

Desire.

Your phone lit up on the bed where you tossed it after snapping a photo for your tightly-wound man nanny.

1 New Message from: Kim Grinch

I didn’t know you liked Van Gogh.

Your head tilted in confusion.

There was a Van Gogh print in your room, but he couldn’t have seen it because it was behind you when-

Oh NO.

You gasped, scrolling back up to confirm what deep down you already knew to be true.

… You just sent Kim Taehyung a topless mirror selfie.

Several miles away, smiling smugly in the backseat of his town car, Taehyung was sure he could almost hear you screaming.

“Good morning, sir. Which would you like first; the bad news or the worse news?”

Taehyung groaned from underneath his covers.

“Don’t you ever knock? I could have a woman up here.”

“You’ve never brought a woman up here.”

“Is that the bad news?” Taehyung yawned.

“No,” Jungkook tossed a small stack of newspapers and printed digital articles into his lap, “this is the bad news.”

Pictures of you, Min Yoongi, and even himself were splashed over the front pages of all of them.

PARK ANGEL TRADES ONE CORPORATE HEIR FOR ANOTHER AT MIN GALA

WHO WILL WIN THE PARK ANGEL’S HEART? KIM TAEHYUNG OR MIN YOONGI? LET US KNOW IN THE COMMENTS

NEW ROMANCE ALERT? PARK ANGEL LEAVES JOSEON BALL WITH MIN SCION

“The Park Angel?”

“That’s what the media calls her... The public is rather fascinated with her actually.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Taehyung mumbled.

“Of course not, sir. It’s a great mystery.”

As usual, Taehyung chose to ignore his aide’s lethal snark and pressed on to the matter at hand.

“This is a flaming disaster.”

“Oh I don’t know. I really appreciated the picture of you staring on forlornly while she and Yoongi climbed into the Aston Martin. Takes a real gift to capture all that drama in a single frame.”

“Which one was that?!”

“It’s right under the MAN DOWN: PARK ANGEL LEAVES KIM TAEHYUNG HEARTBROKEN headline.”

Tae ran his hand down over his face in exasperation.

“I’m surprised my mother hasn’t called.”

“She has. Twice.”

“I don’t suppose that’s the ‘worse news’ is it?”

“No.”

“Of course it isn’t. I’m never that lucky.” He collapsed backwards into his pillows with a beleaguered huff. “Go ahead then. Tell me.”

“Park Jimin is on the line for you right now.”

After a small eternity on the phone with Jimin (assuring him that NO Min Yoongi had not despoiled his precious sister and YES he would definitely do better next time), Taehyung was forced to attend an impromptu brunch with his mother. It took considerable effort, but he was eventually able to convince her that you were neither breaking his heart nor expecting his child.

By the time he arrived to collect you for this evening’s event, Taehyung was already sick of hearing your name (he’d spoken it no less than three hundred times since Jungkook woke him this morning).

You were in much the same boat as Taehyung, having spent most of the afternoon pacifying Jimin and clearing up your own mother’s romantic delusions regarding the Min and Kim heirs respectively.

Tonight’s gala was a Victorian Christmas Ball thrown by the National Literary Fund and the entire venue had been transformed into a Charles Dickens fever dream.

Unlike the Min Gala (whose theme was guarded like a state secret every year) the Literary Fund’s tribute to A Christmas Carol was tradition and you were dressed accordingly in a custom corset gown with gorgeous detailing.

Every second of effort it took to lace yourself into the monstrosity was worth the look on Taehyung’s face the moment you slipped off your cape.

“Something wrong, Mr. Kim?”

Taehyung was desperately trying to look literally anywhere but your chest, where said corset was serving up your breasts like a debauched buffet.

Jimin. Think of Jimin. Think of what Jimin will do to you. Think of how much trouble she’s caused-

He peeked again.

I would pay a million dollars to suck those tits.

“Nothing at all,” his voice cracked.

The itinerary for the evening included performances by a local children’s choir, a traditional waltz, and—of course—dinner.

You both managed to get along without snapping at each other during the choral performance, but as two of the largest donors to the Children’s Literacy Initiative, neither of you could escape being drawn into the waltz.

The energetic socialite who Taehyung flirted with over dinner the previous night eventually lured him onto the floor while you graciously accepted an invitation from a lovely older gentleman who chaired the Fund’s event committee.

For the first few movements, you were thoroughly enjoying yourself. Mr. Lee was charming, respectful, and still an excellent dancer despite his advanced age. It wasn’t until a familiar sound caught your attention that the lightness in your chest suddenly felt heavy...

Taehyung was laughing.

You heard him do so many times over the years, and in each instance, the carefree magic of it never failed to make your heart flutter.

But now he was smiling down at the pretty little heiress and laughing for her… and the flutter in your chest was accompanied by something else.

Something that felt an awful lot like longing.

“Does he know you look at him like that?” Mr. Lee asked quietly.

Your eyes flew guiltily to his, but it was too late. The old man had caught a glimpse of the secret you buried deeply for more than a decade; so deeply, in fact, there were times you almost forgot it yourself...

Almost.

“No,” you whispered, “he has no idea.”

Disaster struck at dinner.

Taehyung quite liked dancing with the lovely Miss Something-or-Other. She was sweet and funny and (unlike with you) he wasn’t constantly torn between agitation and raging inappropriate lust in her presence.

The cold shoulder you offered him when he took his seat seemed even more frigid than usual and he spent half the meal wondering what he’d done to earn your amplified disdain when suddenly—

Your hand smacked down on his wrist, seizing it in a vise-like grip.

Taehyung nearly choked on his steak and was about to give you a searing set-down over your spontaneous grabby-ness when he noticed your expression.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, leaning forward in concern.

“I-I need—”

It looked as if you were in some sort of physical pain and Taehyung was rapidly becoming worried.

“I need your help,” you finally managed to whimper and the next thing he knew, you were dragging him away from the table and into one of the secluded alcoves near the main entrance hall.

“Is there anyone around? Can anyone see us?” The look on your face bordered on unhinged.

“No. There’s no one. Park, are you okay? What’s going on I—”

“I need you to unlace my dress,” you hissed frantically.

At that moment, a bomb could have gone off and Taehyung wouldn’t have blinked.

You, however, were completely preoccupied with your own distress and therefore oblivious to his.

“My earring broke during dinner and fell down there and now it’s stabbing me—”

Your eyes were beginning to tear. Taehyung remained frozen, still trying to figure out whether or not this was a lucid dream.

“—it’s definitely pierced the skin and there’s a possibility I’m gonna start bleeding through the fabric—”

The mention of blood snapped him out of his daze somewhat.

“A-Alright. Just turn around—brace yourself on that wall.”

You quickly did as you were told and Taehyung began to tug fruitlessly at the ties cross-crossing your back.

“Why won’t this—”

His fingers fumbled over the knots, desperately trying to loosen them, but they simply wouldn’t budge.

“I can’t—I can’t get it. Whoever helped you into this thing made sure you weren’t getting out of it.”

You whined in frustration and the earring shifted a bit in response.

There was only one other way to fix this (and you would almost rather be in pain).

“Taehyung I—” you turned to face him again, forcing your eyes shut before reluctantly doing what had to be done “... I need you to reach down the front of my dress and get it.”

He blinked. Twice.

“I’m sorry—What did you just—”

“Please, Tae,” you whispered desperately, letting your lip tremble in a way he had never been able to resist, “it hurts…”

He gulped.

His eyes dropped to the matter at hand.

This is fine. Everything’s fine. She’s in pain, right? You’re basically a doctor right now. You’re just going slide your hand in between the most mouthwatering pair of breasts you’ve ever seen and then—

Taehyung’s manic inner monologue was interrupted by the sound of his own moan. He immediately faked a coughing fit to cover it and prayed you hadn’t noticed.

(You hadn’t. You were actively being stabbed.)

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this,” he muttered, curling his fingers over the scalloped edge of the bodice.

You bit your lip, desperately trying to hold back any reaction, but when his knuckle brushed the pebbled tip of your nipple, you gasped.

Oh.

His hand stuttered, lingering a moment too long over the tight little peak as his gaze suddenly shot up to meet yours. Both of you had been studiously avoiding eye contact, yet now it was as if neither of you could look away.

Taehyung wet his lips reflexively.

“It’s too tight,” he whispered, “I need more leverage.”

Then his arm wrapped over the curve of your lower back and he drew you tightly against him, anchoring your hips just enough to fully slip his hand between your body and the corset.

You were so warm.

So soft...

“I can feel it,” he grunted, “but I can’t get a good grip on it.”

His mouth pressed into a tight line as he leaned forward, bringing your back up against the wall. You let out a little squeak and his eyes darted briefly down to your mouth before he spoke again.

“Hold on to me.”

You nodded and wordlessly slid your arms around his waist.

If you concentrated hard enough, you could almost pretend that this wasn’t one of the most erotic moments of your life.

You could almost pretend that it meant nothing.

Your mind was spinning wildly, wondering what he was thinking, wondering if he noticed how strangely you were breathing or how hard your heart was beating...

“I’ve got it,” he murmured. Shivers shot down your spine at the dark timbre of his voice.

He was so close. You could feel every word he spoke brushing softly against your skin.

“On ‘three’ I’m going to pull it out… Are you ready?”

You drew in a final steadying breath.

“Do it.”

He nodded.

“One… Two… Three—”

Taehyung yanked his hand back and several things happened at once.

Your breasts bounced almost entirely out of the corset.

The decorative clasps on the front of your gown tangled with the buttons on his shirt and when he pulled back, three of them went flying off like stray bullets.

And finally, the corset didn’t relinquish Taehyung’s hand quite quickly enough and, as a result, you toppled forward and crashed down on top of him, smashing your newly bare breasts to his newly bare chest.

It could have been ten seconds or ten hours that passed by while the two of you lay there, breathing heavily in a pile of confused arousal when—

“... Is… everything alright here?”

You both looked up to find a thoroughly scandalized member of the waitstaff standing over you.

Taehyung saw his life flash before his eyes—ending (of course) with Jimin murdering him for this.

He gulped again.

“I can explain.”

It was decided—for the sake of appearances—that you would both leave the venue (immediately) in separate vehicles.

Taehyung dropped a cool three hundred in crisp bills on the unfortunate waiter in order to help him ‘forget’ whatever he may or may not have seen.

Neither of you spoke another word to each other in the ten minutes it took to bribe all the appropriate parties, gather your coats, and call for two separate town cars.

Something had happened when he touched you; a subtle shift in the precarious balance of your relationship that you both felt keenly, but could not possibly begin to define.

Taehyung barely even remembered climbing into the back of a vehicle. His body was firing on auto-pilot after the sensory overload of the last half hour. It wasn’t until he was nearly home that he realized he was still holding onto your earring.

His mind began to wander as he examined the troublesome bauble in his palm. It was a striking piece; deceptively complex and unexpectedly beautiful.

Just like you.

He told himself that the heat pooling low in his belly was anger—that the strange anxiousness to be near you was simply a desire for retribution—that it was merely platonic curiosity that left his hands aching to explore the rest of your curves.

Lies.

… and pitifully transparent ones at that.

Still, he clung to them desperately out of self-preservation.

The gentle hum of his phone suddenly disturbed Taehyung’s silent contemplation.

1 New Message from: Park Gremlin

I made it home safely.

Taehyung’s fingers were typing a reply before he could properly consider the consequence of his actions.

To: Park Gremlin

I require proof… like last time.

He nearly threw the phone the moment he sent it, running his hands down over his face in disbelief.

You’re playing with fire, Kim Taehyung.

And he was burning up already. He had no business sending you texts like that. Maybe you wouldn’t catch it. Maybe he could just-

The phone went off again and it was embarrassing how quickly he scrambled to open your response.

His heart stuttered in his chest. His breathing ceased entirely-

And he knew—he knew—there was no coming back from this.

At first glance the photo was nearly identical to the shot you sent him last night. Same room, same angle…

same mirror.

Yet this time, the reflection was quite different.

The temptress in the glass wore nothing but that sinfully delicious corset and a pair of silky lace thigh highs, each accented with a green satin bow.

He wanted to rip them off with his teeth.

“Oh Taehyung,” he whispered, as a dark wave primitive longing tore through him, “you are in so much trouble.”

Across town (buried beneath a pile of blankets) you were still struggling to process the boldness of your own actions when his response lit up your screen.

1 New Message from: Kim Grinch

Green is my favorite color.

“WHERE IS HE—”

Taehyung awoke to a series of crashes and shouts echoing from the floor below him.

Jungkook was already seated in the corner of the room reading a newspaper.

“Good morning, sir,” he said without looking up. “Would you like the bad news or the worse news?”

Suddenly the french doors of his bedroom slammed open and one very irate Park Jimin stormed through.

“I swear I should have seen this coming. The two of you have always been obsessed with each other, but I never imagined—”

Taehyung’s eyes widened guiltily. He quickly schooled his features into a confused glare.

“Jimin, I’ve only been awake for fifteen seconds. What the hell are you talking about?!”

Another stack of newspapers hit his lap and this time the pictures were mostly of him with his shirt ripped halfway down his chest.

KIM HEIR AND PARK ANGEL CAUSE AN OLD-FASHIONED SCANDAL AT VICTORIAN BALL

FORGET MISTLETOE: KIM TAEHYUNG DISCOVERED UNDER THE PARK ANGEL AT CHRISTMAS CELEBRATION

NAUGHTY NOEL? PARK ANGEL’S STEAMY AFFAIR WITH CORPORATE PRINCE

PARK ANGEL TOPS KIM TAEHYUNG’S CHRISTMAS TREE

He winced a bit at that last one.

“You have ten seconds to explain before I start throwing things.”

Taehyung opened his mouth to do just that, but he was interrupted when his mother marched into the room waving the same articles that Jimin had just thrown at him.

“KIM TAEHYUNG I raised you better than this! How could you!? That poor girl!”

“Mother!” he squeaked, yanking his blanket up over his chest like a frightened debutante.

Jungkook began surreptitiously filming the whole debacle from the corner.

“Indeed,” Jimin added darkly, crossing his arms over his chest, “how could you?”

Taehyung sighed heavily.

“Is anyone else going to come charging into my bedroom?”

“Just answer me once and for all, is she pregnant?”

“WHAT?!”

“NO! Mother! Oh my—”

“Why does your mom think my little sister is pregnant?!”

Taehyung waved his arms wildly in exasperation.

“My mom thinks everyone is pregnant! You know this!”

Jungkook could no longer contain his hysterical cackling. He very nearly fell off the chair trying to hold it all in.

“Mr. Jeon,” Taehyung ground out irritably, “if it’s not too much trouble, could you please escort everyone out of my bedroom so I can get dressed!”

“So you see—I was basically like a doctor,” Taehyung finished emphatically.

He spent the past twenty minutes explaining to the entire table (which now included both you and your mother) why it was necessary to shove his hand down the front of your dress.

Park Soomin had shown up at his door looking for answers (and dragging you behind her like a sacrificial lamb) about three minutes after Jimin.

You had taken one look at Jimin’s murderous expression and insisted that the situation be evaluated over breakfast at the cafe down the street (where there were lots of witnesses).

Which was how you, Taehyung, Jimin, and both your mothers ended up discussing your cleavage over coffee in a public restaurant.

Jimin was the first to break. It was a few snorts at first, but he was basically in tears by the end of it, wheezing about how he never doubted Taehyung for a second and holding on to his sides from laughing too hard.

Taehyung’s gaze met yours for a brief, heated exchange. He conveniently forgot to mention your slightly-less-than-explainable ‘check-in’ texts, but their existence was palpable in the air between you.

“I think I’ll take a walk,” you muttered, excusing yourself from the complicated atmosphere at the table.

Taehyung’s eyes lingered on you a tad too long as you wandered away, a fact that wasn’t missed by either of your mothers.

“Just a few more events and you can go back to not seeing her at all,” Jimin chuckled, patting him on the back.

“Yeah,” Taehyung answered with a tight smile. “That’s… great.”

The cafe had a lovely little balcony area decorated with all sorts of comforting Christmas foliage. It was far more inviting than the awkward conversation and confusing stares you and Taehyung had been trading all morning.

For the first time in the nearly fifteen years of your relationship (such as it was) you didn’t know where you stood with him… and it bothered you more than you cared to admit.

Taehyung had always been important to you, whether you wanted him to be or not. He mattered—effortlessly—from the first moment you met him and continued to do so without regard for your sanity.

Whatever was building between you now would almost certainly bring change… though what kind of change was anyone’s guess.

It was hard to imagine the years ahead without the strange excitement he always brought to your life, but some things were simply out of your control…

“I never thought I’d see you here.”

A profoundly unpleasant feeling (something similar to falling through the ice on a frozen pond) overtook you.

“Milo.” Even saying his name felt gross. You sighed. “What is so strange about seeing me here?”

The man in question blushed in a way you once found irresistible.

“I looked for you everywhere. All your usual places—”

“I avoided them.”

I avoided you.

Milo nodded.

“I—I figured.”

He took a step closer and you instinctively moved back. The hurt in his eyes was unmistakable, but you had long since become immune.

“What are you doing?” you hissed angrily. “I thought I made myself clear the last time we spoke.”

“Yes, but—” his hand reached out to curl over your forearm and you recoiled, “you didn’t give me a chance to explain—”

“Excuse me.”

You both turned to see Kim Taehyung with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Milo like he was a roach that crawled across his dinner plate.

“Your mother sent me to come find you. She wants to leave.”

You nodded and moved to pull away, but Milo’s grip tightened on your arm.

“No—please if you just give me a minute—”

“That is enough,” Taehyung snarled, seizing the other man’s hand and forcibly removing it from your person. He angled his body between the two of you protectively. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

Milo’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re Kim Taehyung. I read all about you in the papers this morning.” His lips twisted into an ugly sneer as he addressed you. “You really think you’re better off with him if that’s the way he treats you?”

Taehyung tensed menacingly beside you, but you laid a gentle hand on his arm to calm him.

“None of that is any of your concern.” Your gaze rose to meet his defiantly. “Nothing about me is your concern anymore.”

Milo’s eyes fell to where your palm rested on the other man’s sleeve, noticing the way you both unconsciously leaned toward one another.

“This isn’t over,” he muttered, storming off.

After he was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding.

“Thank you,” you whispered (though you couldn’t resist adding), “I could have handled it myself of course…”

Taehyung laughed.

“Oh I know. I was at that party where you knocked out Tyler Jung for grabbing your ass.”

You grinned.

“I’d forgotten about that.”

“Well I’m sure Tyler hasn’t.”

(He neglected to mention that he split Tyler’s lip behind the library the next day, just to make sure it was extra memorable for him.)

“I wish I could forget about Milo.”

“... Are you still in love with him?”

The words tasted like ash in his mouth.

“No.” You smiled softly. “I’m not sure I was ever in love with him actually. It’s more—” you sighed, “—embarrassment… wounded pride.”

Taehyung tilted his head curiously and you found yourself continuing.

“In the beginning, he was very playful and charming—and obviously handsome. He reminded me so much of—”

you.

You cleared your throat.

“Anyway… I was quite taken with him at first. I didn’t suspect any ulterior motives.” You shrugged, trying to hold back the unpleasant emotions that always threatened to overrun you in moments like this. “I just thought he liked me.”

Taehyung’s eyes filled with sympathy and understanding as you spoke. It felt oddly natural to open up to him this way.

“Jimin is very protective of me—with good reason it turns out. He was suspicious of Milo and hired people to do some discreet digging.”

Your hands wrapped around your body for both warmth and comfort.

“Milo’s family owns several companies, just like ours, but they’re all struggling. His father sent him to me hoping that he would eventually get compromising information… a sex tape or photographs—something of that nature. They intended to blackmail Jimin into doing business with them.”

Taehyung felt his jaw clench painfully. Fury, hot and profound, rolled through him.

“I should kill him.”

You shook your head, amused in spite of yourself.

“That’s exactly what Jimin said.”

“He has good instincts.”

“Scum like Milo aren’t worth it,” you chuckled. “He never got what he wanted… but I was still mortified. I felt like such a fool for believing him.”

“No,” Taehyung’s hands slid up to cup your shoulders, “it’s not foolish to believe that someone cared for you.”

It would be so easy to care for you.

“Besides…” his eyes fell briefly to your lips as he searched for the right words, “I saw the way he looked at you and—even though he’s clearly a terrible person—I believe his feelings may have been genuine.”

You nodded.

“That’s what he keeps trying to tell me—that he did have bad intentions, but ended up falling for me anyway.” You shook your head. “As If I could believe a word he says.”

The silence between you stretched comfortably. Taehyung sensed you had more to say, so he waited until you were ready to voice it.

“I think that’s why I’m so sensitive about handling things on my own lately… and just now even. I want to prove to everyone—to myself—that I’m not a liability.”

“Hey,” he whispered, tipping your chin up till your gazes met, “no one thinks you’re a liability. And even if you are capable, no one should have to fight their own battles all the time—especially when they’re emotionally compromised…” His thumb gently brushed away the small tear that escaped down the curve of your cheek. “That’s the benefit of having people who care about you.”

“... Like you?”

The words left you so softly, you could almost imagine they were still in your head where they likely should have stayed.

Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise. His gaze became even more intent and you ceased breathing altogether. After a moment his lips parted as if he was about to speak-

“What’s going on, guys?”

You both jerked back at the sound of your brother’s voice. He was standing in the entrance to the balcony, gaze darting suspiciously between the two of you.

Taehyung was a bit dazed, but you were always quicker on your feet.

“I ran into Milo… Tae was calming me down.”

Jimin’s eyes hardened immediately.

“Where is he?”

“Long gone,” you mumbled, ambling over to the familiar warmth of his arms. “I just want to go home.”

The Black and White Ball was one of the most coveted invitations of the holiday season.

The dress code was quite strict (all black or all white—no exceptions) and it was one of the few events where people actually arrived in limousines.

Taehyung loathed limousines. He felt absurdly pretentious pulling up to your building in such a gauche ride, but traditions and appearances meant too much in his world to simply disregard them.

His ensemble for the evening was a beautifully tailored black suit with hand-stitched baroque detailing. Oddly, he found himself wondering what you would think of it...

“You look like a vampire.”

Taehyung turned at the sound of your voice and was struck, yet again, by how incredibly beautiful you were.

You had chosen to wear white, donning an exquisite gown with delicate pearl beading and a daring sweetheart neckline that molded perfectly to your frame.

If he looked like a vampire, you were surely an angel.

Still…

Angel or not, he couldn’t let that comment pass.

“I think I’m offended.”

“I can’t imagine why. After all, loads of women are attracted to Nosferatu.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed.

“There are so many sexy vampires in popular culture, but you just had to lump me in with the creepy bald one...”

You shrugged playfully.

“I wouldn’t want you to think I was going soft.”

A wicked grin danced over your lips as you strolled past him regally—just as you had many times before...

This time, however, he let his eyes linger a little longer on the view.

Lord have mercy.

“Of course not,” he coughed.

“You’re what?!”

You rolled your eyes.

Tonight had been going rather well.

The two of you formed a mutual unspoken agreement to pretend that your last encounter on the balcony (and on the phone) had never happened and (despite the heated glances you occasionally traded) the bickering and playful banter characteristic of your relationship had all but returned to normal...

Until Taehyung learned of your participation in the evening’s main event.

“I told you, I’m part of the date auction this year.”

“Does your brother know about this?!”

“I didn’t see any reason to bother him with it.” You were suddenly preoccupied with your nails.

“Woman,” Taehyung sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “are you trying to make my life difficult?”

“No, I’m just naturally gifted in that respect.”

You turned and began making your way to the front, but Taehyung was hot on your heels and clearly not ready to let the matter rest.

“I cannot believe you’re actually going through with this! It’s not 1810, you know. We shouldn’t just auction off women for dates—”

“You’re absolutely right, Tae Tae.” You brushed a condescending pat over his cheek. “Nowadays we auction off the men too.”

Then you sauntered off to join the rest of the participating women—and men—backstage, leaving Taehyung to stew about the entire situation from the crowd.

“As you know, all proceeds from tonight’s auction go to fight childhood hunger right here in our city. For legal purposes, I must advise all bidders that you are only bidding on the company of the individual in question.”

Taehyung shook his head. “Jimin is probably going to kill me for this.”

“If you place the winning bid, then you and your date will receive two VIP tickets to the Governor's Winter Wonderland Gala which comes with a variety of amenities including; a luxury limousine service, one of the private and famously romantic Winter Wonderland dinner experiences—”

His eyes fluttered shut. “Jimin is definitely gonna kill me for this.”

“—unlimited free drinks, ten complimentary tickets for each of the grand prize raffles, photos with the Governor and his family, along with many more surprises!”

Taehyung grabbed a champagne flute from a nearby waiter and downed it in one go.

“And now for our first date of the evening! Mr. Jackson Wang!”

Jackson went for a cool six grand because no one was brave enough to outbid his girlfriend.

After him, the beautiful Manoban heiress and her handsome cousin Kim Namjoon went for twelve grand each.

Jung Hoseok started a frenzied bidding war between two young socialites and Mrs. O’Malley. He ended up going to the lovely Ms. Ana Fallon for a staggering twenty thousand dollars.

Taehyung’s own cousin, Kim Seokjin, paid a jaw-dropping twenty-one thousand dollars for Lin Yuna, the young CEO of Lin Cosmetics. (Taehyung made a mental note to ask him about that later.)

Then it was your turn.

“The next lady on our list needs no introduction. The lovely Park Angel has graciously agreed to a date with one lucky bidder tonight! Who will it be? Do I hear ten thousand?”

“Ten thousand.”

Taehyung swung his head toward the first bidder and breathed a sigh of relief.

Tam Martin, one of your best friends and very gay.

“Eleven thousand.”

“Twelve thousand.”

“Fifteen.”

“Sixteen thousand dollars.”

“Seventeen thousand.”

“Eighteen.”

Taehyung was having trouble keeping up with all the bidders. His ears were starting to ring again and a strange unpleasant nausea was building in his stomach.

“Twenty thousand.”

“Twenty-five thousand.”

“Thirty thousand!”

At the sound of the last bidder’s voice, you noticeably paled. Your eyes flew to Taehyung’s and immediately he knew exactly who it was.

Milo.

Before he could even react to the new information, another voice joined the fray.

“Forty thousand.”

Min Yoongi smiled smugly from the other side of the room and even had the audacity to throw you a wink.

You smiled shyly at the young heir’s boldness and Taehyung felt something downright unholy rise up in his chest.

No.

Milo was still bidding.

“Fifty thousand dollars.”

Not her.

“Sixty,” Yoongi countered.

She’s mine.

Suddenly Taehyung was on his feet.

“One hundred thousand dollars!”

The silence in the backseat of your limousine was deafening.

Tension charged the air like an electric current as the significance of the last hour weighed heavily between you.

The spacious luxury vehicle allowed you to sit facing one another. Taehyung’s eyes were focused on his hands, but you were looking at him—letting your mind run wild with speculation.

And hope.

Part of you was still there, on the stage, watching him stand up and bid a fortune for the pleasure of your company.

His gaze was so fierce when he spoke, like an ancient emperor calling out his decree for the people to obey.

You dreamed about him bidding on you when you signed up for the auction (even before Jimin bullied him into accompanying you). You let yourself imagine him speaking out again and again till the others stepped back—

Yet you never dared hope for it.

However, the last several days marked an unexpected turning point in your relationship.

For years, you and he were like magnets with a too-similar charge, but something had shifted irrevocably between you, and somehow your stubborn similarities became opposites that could not resist their attraction.

Kim Taehyung was one of the wealthiest men in the city…

But he didn’t need to buy your heart.

It had always been his, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

He had claimed you tonight—and every single soul in that ballroom knew it.

The next move was yours and you intended to make it.

“Mmm,” you hissed a bit, bringing your hand to rest just below your breasts.

Taehyung’s gaze flew up in concern.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, it’s just that scratch from the earring,” your fingers rubbed gingerly at the spot, drawing his focus to it, “it still stings.”

“Oh… I—” he shook his head, “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

“Do you want to see?”

Taehyung’s eyes rose slowly to yours.

You watched the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he considered your words. Anticipation vibrated through your blood like notes struck on a piano—

Then he nodded...

And you both were lost.

Trembling fingers slid the zipper down the side of your gown. The dress itself was a marvel of physics designed to support you without the need for a bra.

Taehyung drew in an impossibly deep breath as the fabric drifted to your waist, baring the perfect mounds of your breasts to him entirely.

“Here,” you whispered, pointing to a small red mark just under the curve of your left one.

He bit back a moan.

“I—I see. That looks… painful.” His fingers dug into the seat beside him. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

You nodded.

“Kiss it better.”

Taehyung felt the air knock out of his lungs like a sucker punch.

This must have been how Adam felt when Eve offered him the forbidden fruit all those millennia ago.

He knew he shouldn’t—

but he could never deny you.

“Of course.”

You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He looked like a man possessed and you reveled in the power of it.

It was for you.

He wanted you.

Your back arched up the slightest bit, beckoning to him—offering him a taste of what he was so desperately craving.

Touch me… please.

Large palms landed on either side of your thighs, bracing him on the seat beneath you. The tip of his nose teased the delicate line of your collar bone and he swore violently under his breath.

Then his lips were on your skin and your mind went blank.

“Taehyung—“ you moaned.

Hot open-mouthed kisses spread over the soft swell of your breast and you gasped— shuddering helplessly as a fierce wave of pleasure tore through you.

Sweet merciful heavens.

Over the years you imagined a moment like this thousands of times in your head—only to discover now that you had pitifully underestimated both his passion and his skill.

You had dreamed of a quiet fire—but he had unleashed an inferno.

The lewd sounds of his mouth nipping and sucking at your tender flesh filled the small space around you as he poured himself into each obscene contact—stopping briefly to flick his tongue over the taunt peak of your nipple. You trembled breathlessly at the sharp snap of sensation, letting your head fall back against the seat as you buried your fingers in his soft curls.

“T-Tae—”

Finally his mouth fastened over the tiny scratch, and the kiss deepened. You knew what he was doing, what the result of his efforts would be—

He was marking you.

And you wanted it.

Oh how you wanted it.

Suddenly the car took a sharp turn, causing Taehyung to lose his grip on the seat. His arms wrapped around your torso for balance, dragging you fully against him.

“Does it feel better, Angel?” he growled.

You nodded frantically and he nipped at the underside of your breast.

“Speak up.”

“Yes, Taehyung,” you whimpered, “it feels so much better.”

“Mmmm,” he hummed, brushing his mouth along the sensitive column of your neck. “Who knew you could be such a good girl?”

Then his hand came up to grip your chin, turning it so your lips were almost against his—

“Madame. We’ve arrived.”

The driver’s voice cut over your senses like a shard of ice.

Taehyung jerked backward and immediately buried his face in his hands.

Your fingers hastily yanked your dress up and you stumbled out of the car in a daze, letting your feet carry you forward until you collapsed on top of your bed.

Did we just...

You hadn’t even begun to collect your thoughts when your phone buzzed from inside your purse.

1 New Message from: Taehyung 🙄🥴🙈

I need to know you made it safely to your room.

You grinned.

Greedy boy.

Back in the limousine, the boy in question was nervously tapping the corner of his phone against his chin as he waited for your reply.

1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅

Oh? But you saw me walk in… and I’m already in bed.

Taehyung growled in frustration.

She would be a tease.

To: Angel 🤬🥵😅

I tend to worry. Put my mind at ease.

He shook his head.

I have officially gone insane.

The phone buzzed again.

1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅

Well… We can’t have that can we…

Taehyung literally felt the whine tear out of him as he opened the picture.

Your gorgeous body (the body he’d had his hands and mouth on for one glorious minute) was nestled decadently atop a pile of fluffy blue blankets and wrapped in nothing but a tiny silk robe.

The neck gaped open just enough to show off the pretty red marks he left on the delectable curve of your breast.

He groaned, biting down hard on his bottom lip.

To: Angel 🤬🥵😅

That's all I get after I made the pain go away? Good girls send real proof, Angel

The screen lit up again almost immediately.

1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅

Guess I’m not such a good girl after all...

Jimin came tearing through the Kim Manor front gate at precisely 7 AM—only to find Jungkook camped out at the entrance with several outdoor space heaters and a giant mug of hot chocolate.

“He told you not to let me in, didn’t he?”

Jungkook took a long satisfying sip of his cocoa.

“I hope you don’t feel singled out, sir. I’m not allowed to let his mother in either.”

“I need to talk to him.”

“Of course, Mr. Park, let me just pull up his schedule—”

“I need to talk to him now.”

“I’m afraid Mr. Kim is booked solid for the morning.”

Jimin stomped his foot like a petulant child.

“I know he’s up there.”

Jungkook grinned.

“You’re welcome to climb the trellis and check. I promise not to stop you if you make it all the way up.”

“COME DOWN HERE AND FACE ME YOU COWARD!” Jimin shouted at the top of his lungs.

Jungkook took another long pull of his drink.

“Might I inquire as to the reason for your visit today, sir?”

“The reason for my visit,” Jimin yanked out his phone and angrily began typing into the search bar, “is that your boss paid ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS for my sister at a date auction last night and I want to know what the hell is going on between them!”

The article Jimin pulled up (DEVILISH KIM TAEHYUNG BUYS HIMSELF A $100,000 ANGEL) featured an image of the two of you entering the Black and White Ball. Your head was thrown back in laughter and Taehyung was grinning down at you as if you’d personally hung all the stars in the sky for him.

A genuine smile crept over Jungkook’s face as he studied the photograph.

“That’s quite a headline.” He handed Jimin’s phone back. “Have you asked your sister about it?”

“No, I swung by earlier, but she wasn’t home so—” His eyes widened. “Oh my—is she—”

Jimin suddenly took off running for the trellis, and Jungkook scrambled out of his chair to chase him.

“KIM TAEHYUNG IF MY SISTER IS IN THAT ROOM—”

He was already three feet off the ground when Jungkook yanked him back.

“I thought you said I could climb the trellis!”

“Yes,” Jungkook wheezed, “but I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” That trellis is a hundred years old! A few more feet and I’d be scraping you off the antique brickwork!”

Jimin scowled and crossed his arms.

“Are you by any chance open to bribes?”

“Normally yes, but Tae promised to double my Christmas bonus if I didn’t accept them today.”

Jimin continued to eye the trellis speculatively, clearly willing to take his chances. Jungkook sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“Mr. Park, I promise you… He came home alone last night. In fact, they both returned earlier than usual because your sister had a 7 AM finance meeting.” He paused significantly to glance at his watch. “Which is probably where she is right now.”

“Oh… Well.”

Jungkook bit his lip to hold back a snort and Jimin’s eyes narrowed.

“He has to come down eventually.”

“One would think.”

The young Park heir glanced toward Taehyung’s window again just in time to see the man in question dart back behind the curtains.

"I KNOW YOU'RE AWAKE, KIM TAEHYUNG, YOU PHILANDERING SLEAZE BAG!"

Jimin made another jump for the trellis and this time Jungkook caught him in mid-air.

“Sir, I’m sure it was just the maid!”

“It’s not the maid! I’d know that raggedy mop of his anywhere!”

Jungkook was out of breath at this point. Park Jimin might be small, but he was fierce.

“Perhaps it’s best if you took a moment to collect yourself,” he grunted. “There’s a lovely new spa down the street and they sent Taehyung two free deluxe packages.”

Jimin stopped struggling.

“Oh?”

Five minutes later, Jungkook sighed deeply and fished his phone out of his back pocket.

“He’s gone, sir.”

“Excellent work, Jungkook. I never doubted you for a second.”

“However…”

“... However?”

“I had to give him your spa passes.”

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

“Are you headed for a gala or the guillotine?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes.

“I don’t pay extra for commentary.”

“It’s complimentary, sir.”

The Kim heir tugged absently at the material of his absurdly expensive evening wear.

Why do these events always have to be so uncomfortable?

“Seriously, Tae… you seem,” the young aide searched for the right words, “unusually tense.”

Taehyung’s mind flashed back to three nights ago when he had his mouth wrapped around your breast.

“Not at all,” he coughed, loosening the collar of his shirt.

Jungkook bit his lip.

“Is this about Ms. Park, sir?”

The cufflinks Taehyung was attempting to fasten suddenly went flying across the room and hit a lamp.

Both men winced.

“I think that was your grandmother’s.”

Taehyung sighed.

“I admit there have been… some developments.”

Jungkook nodded nonchalantly, trying to disguise the fact that he was internally frothing at the mouth for details.

“... Such as?”

Taehyung gulped.

“It started out rather innocently I suppose…” he cleared his throat, “but there may have been some suggestive photographs.”

“There may have been? Are you not sure?”

Taehyung colored guiltily.

“Well—”

“Do you need me to check for you, sir? I have an art history degree.”

“Absolutely not.”

Jungkook grinned.

“That’s what I thought.”

Taehyung yanked his tie out of the younger man’s hand.

“Things have… escalated a bit.”

“Escalated how?”

I licked her tit in the back of a limo.

“Physically.”

It was everything Jungkook could do to maintain a straight face.

“That’s… shocking.”

“Then why don’t you seem shocked?” Taehyung grumbled.

A small smile played across Jungkook’s lips as he pointedly ignored the elder man’s observation.

“So what are you going to do, sir?”

Taehyung was silent for a long moment.

“I honestly have no idea.”

Watching you walk toward him was an experience.

Taehyung wondered absently if this was how it would be from now on; if for the rest of his life just the sight of you would be enough to scatter his mind and his pulse and even the way he breathed.

Your dress tonight was deadly.

It was a decadent red satin halter that clung to every curve. The truly wicked detail, however, was a daring slit that ran the entire length of your leg.

Taehyung was certain he was going to trip over his own tongue at some point if he looked directly at you for too long.

Oh help.

Memories of your previous encounter flooded his senses. Every second you were getting closer and he didn’t know what to do—what to say.

So he didn’t say anything at all.

Not a word when you reached the bottom of the stairs. Nothing but silence as he opened the door of the limo for you. More silence and no eye contact as he settled into the seat across from yours—

And you tolerated that for about three minutes.

“I never thought I’d see the day when Kim Taehyung didn’t have a comment about something. Perhaps I should mark this down on my calendar.”

The words were lightly spoken, but you were shaking on the inside. The last time the two of you were alone together he had your dress around your waist and you were moaning his name. Now he wasn’t talking and you were torn between panic and irritation.

Taehyung, however, latched onto your passive barb like a lifeline.

“Is that a hint of sarcasm I hear from the benevolent Park Angel?” He grinned. “Surely not.”

“Red is not a particularly angelic color. Perhaps I’m feeling feisty today.”

Taehyung leaned back in his seat and indulged himself in a thorough examination of your outfit. The urge to run his hands over the satin-covered lines of your body was nearly unbearable. He curled his fingers into fists to keep them from doing just that.

She is definitely trying to kill me.

“Should I be worried?”

Now it was your turn to grin.

“I guess we’ll find out.”

The Governor’s Winter Wonderland Gala was by far the most extravagant event of the holiday season. Tickets cost a small fortune and sold out almost immediately.

But it was well worth the price of admission.

Thousands of lights sparkled overhead as you made your way through the great hall of Governor Kim’s mansion.

It was like stepping into a fairytale.

Taehyung couldn’t take his eyes off you. The sheer wonder in your expression was breathtaking.

You were breathtaking.

“Governor Kim, it is such an honor to finally meet you.”

The Governor was a handsome man in his early fifties with a smile that was every bit as lethal as it had been twenty-five years ago.

“The honor is all mine, Ms. Park. I trust my nephew is treating you well.”

Your eyes widened.

“N-nephew?”

Taehyung shrugged.

“I don’t really talk about it much.”

The Governor chuckled and you cleared your throat to cover your nervousness.

“Yes, he’s been a very capable escort.”

“Is that so?” Governor Kim smiled charmingly. “Well if it doesn’t work out, my son Seokjin is still single—”

“Thank you, Uncle. It was lovely to see you as always.”

You squeaked as Taehyung placed his hand firmly on the curve of your back and practically dragged you away.

The Governor just shook his head and laughed.

“Oh kid, you’ve got it bad.”

Everywhere you looked there was beauty.

Whoever planned the gala this year had truly gone above and beyond. Surrounded on all sides by glittering trees and snowy vignettes, it was easy to be swept away in the festive magic of the evening.

All in all (despite some initial awkwardness), you were having a fantastic time...

Until she showed up.

“Kim Taehyung! Is that you?”

Every single hair on your body stood on end, but before you could determine the source of the shrill squealing, you found yourself being nudged aside by a blinding golden gown and some very high heels.

“Aubrey,” Taehyung grunted as five-and-half feet of gorgeous wrapped herself around him like a clinging vine. “Long time no see.”

“Not since that vacation in Aspen,” she giggled. “We had quite a time, didn’t we Tae Tae!”

Suddenly you had the most unholy urge to slap the spray tan right off this woman.

Instead, you plastered on a vibrant smile and placed your hand on Taehyung’s sleeve.

“Um. Excuse me, Tae Tae, perhaps you could introduce us?”

Taehyung looked as if he’d just been served raw fire ants for dinner.

“Yes. Of course. This is—”

“Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine,” she interrupted with a smug little smirk. “Taehyung and I go way back.” Her expression grew just the slightest bit tighter. “And you are?”

“His date,” you deadpanned.

“Aubrey,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “I’d like you to meet Ms. Park she’s—”

“Oh my goodness! You’re Jimin’s little sister aren't you!” Aubrey slapped her hand over his chest and he winced. “That is so precious of you to take her around like this!”

Your eyebrows raised right up into your hairline and Taehyung groaned.

“Yes, he was kind enough to sign me out of the nursery for the evening.” You offered them both a painfully vacant nod. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I see one of my play-dates near the buffet.”

Then you turned on your heel and sauntered off without another word.

Taehyung moved to follow you, but Aubrey curled her fingers into the crook of his arm and pulled him back.

“Oh let her go, Tae. You and I have so much catching up to do.”

Taehyung pointedly removed her hand from his elbow.

“Some other time perhaps.”

Aubrey pouted prettily.

“You’re not running off after her are you? She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.”

Taehyung crossed his arms and fixed her with a knowing look.

“Funny... that’s not what you were implying a moment ago.”

“A moment ago I didn’t have you all to myself. Now I do.” She had the decency to blush. “Perhaps I got a bit jealous.”

“You don’t say.” His eyes continued to search the crowd for any sign of you.

“It seems I had good reason to be,” she murmured quietly.

“Aubrey... Listen I—”

She cut him off with a finger to his lips.

“Don’t bother Tae Tae. I’m petty, but I’ve never been pathetic.”

He grinned.

“Never.”

The lady sighed and gave him a heated once over.

“What a shame.”

Then she strolled off with a rueful smile.

“You know what I don’t understand?”

You turn to find Min Yoongi leaning casually against a nearby column. He looked absurdly handsome as always, but his grin was just the slightest bit mischievous.

“What don’t you understand, Mr. Min?”

The question was clearly a bait, but you were still fuming from your earlier encounter with Ms. St. Valentine and therefore desperately in need of a distraction.

Yoongi pushed off the column and lazily made his way toward you.

“I don’t understand how a man pays a hundred thousand dollars for an evening with the most beautiful woman in the city, and then leaves her all by herself.” He leaned forward with a playful grin. “Perhaps you could enlighten me?”

Oh he’s good.

You made a show of tapping your chin thoughtfully.

“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that one.”

Yoongi sighed and shook his head.

“Couldn’t be me.”

You laughed then. He really was a delightful man. In fact, if you still had your heart, you might have considered letting him take a shot at it.

Alas.

You tilted your head speculatively.

Surely there was no need to brush away good company...

After all, no one else is interested in spending time with me.

“Since my escort is otherwise occupied, perhaps you could join me for dinner?”

Yoongi held out his hand.

“I’d be delighted.”

Taehyung wandered around the mansion for nearly forty-five minutes looking for his date.

Panic was just starting to build in his chest when he finally spotted you

—at his private dining table with Min Yoongi.

It was everything he could do not to storm over and yank the other man out of his seat by the lapels.

Alright, Angel. If this is the game you want to play… then let’s play.

Taehyung felt his anger rise with every step, but he ruthlessly suppressed any sign of it and instead adopted a charming smile.

“Min, I didn’t expect to find you here. What a… delightful surprise.”

Yoongi’s expression was just a shade too satisfied. Taehyung could already feel his blood pressure beginning to skyrocket.

“Yes, Ms. Park believed that you were otherwise occupied and invited me to share the meal with her.”

“I see,” Taehyung practically snarled. “However,” his gaze landed heavily on you, “since I paid for this table, I hope you won’t mind if I join you as well?”

You avoided looking at him up to this point, but now you were choking on your wine

“Easy there, Angel,” Taehyung murmured as he pulled up a seat extremely close to yours—so close that your thighs were nearly touching.

Oh boy.

Over the next several minutes Yoongi continued to flirt openly and you continued to smile prettily and pretend Taehyung wasn’t there (which naturally infuriated him).

You should have known he wouldn’t let you get away with such behavior so easily.

This was Kim Taehyung, after all, and if there was anything that could be counted on when it came to your shared history, it was that one (or both) of you was always ready to escalate.

You had just offered the young Min heir yet another flowery compliment when you felt Taehyung make his move.

Two warm fingers slid under the silken slit of your dress, coming to rest possessively over the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

You squeaked and nearly spat up your drink.

Taehyung leaned forward in fake concern, wrapping his arm around you as if to offer aid.

“Are you alright?”

His hand continued to move significantly beneath your gown, but his face was the picture of innocence.

You glared.

“Just fine, thank you.”

A slow grin crept across his features as he began to trace soft intimate patterns over your skin.

On the other side of the table, Yoongi tilted his head in genuine solicitude. “Are you sure?”

You nodded sharply.

Satisfied, he resumed speaking about whatever it was he’d been saying—though you couldn’t understand a word of it at this point because the torturous strokes Taehyung was leisurely drawing over your thighs were moving closer to your center with each passing second.

Yet you made no move to stop him.

You should have.

You should have slapped his touch away—rebuked him for his boldness—

But you didn’t.

So he just kept nodding and smiling while Yoongi spoke, even as his fingers teased you with the maddening persistence of a man who knew very well what he was doing.

You gasped aloud when he finally brushed the pad of his thumb over the thin cotton of your panties.

“T-Taehyung—”

“Hmm?” he turned to you, seemingly surprised by your attention (it was—after all—the first time you’d addressed him since the beginning of the meal).

“Could you pass me the salt,” you sputtered (hoping to cover the fact that you moaned his name involuntarily). Unfortunately, Taehyung seemed wholly aware of your ruse, offering you the salt shaker with a superior smirk.

You seriously considered stabbing him with a fork.

However, before you could carry out any bloodthirsty plans, he pressed his fingers directly over your clit and your eyes rolled back in your head

“Oh my g—” you bit your lip stubbornly, “this lamb is just so good.”

Sweet mother of macaroons, he is too skilled at this.

You shoveled another bite into your mouth to cover your whine as Taehyung began to rub tight little circles over your sweet spot.

Across the table, Yoongi nodded in blissful unawareness.

“Yes, I agree, the lamb is excellent—very tender.”

Taehyung took advantage of the momentary distraction to slip beneath the fabric of your undergarment.

Your fork clattered to your plate and your hand came up to cover your mouth as he began running his fingers up and down your soaked slit.

It was everything you could do to hold back your depraved whimpering.

“I can’t wait to taste it,” Taehyung replied, flicking your clit in a way that guaranteed he wasn’t referring to the lamb.

At this point Yoongi seemed to notice you were in some sort of distress. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and leaned forward.

“Ms. Park, are you well?”

Taehyung chose that moment to sink his finger into the welcoming heat of your pussy.

“Yes,” you almost sobbed, “I’m-I’m very well—thank you.”

“Excellent,” Yoongi smiled as he rose to his feet. “If you’re feeling up to it, perhaps you could favor me with a dance?”

Several attendees were already making their way to the center of the floor and the orchestra was beginning to play.

Your entire body, however, was vibrating like a plucked harp string and Taehyung was still brushing back and forth against your clit, driving you toward a release that promised to be explosive.

There was no way—simply no way—that you would be capable of hiding it.

“Yes! I would love to dance with you,” you squeaked, grabbing hold of Taehyung’s wrist frantically. The feel of him pulling out of your sopping core was nearly enough to have you coming right there.

Thankfully, Yoongi remained utterly oblivious to the debauchery unfolding beneath the table. He took your hand and helped you to your feet with an eager smile (and it was a good thing too because your legs were still shaking).

When the two of you reached the dance floor, you turned back for the briefest instant—

just long enough to meet Taehyung’s heated gaze as his lips closed over the finger he buried in your cunt.

Emotions were a funny thing.

They impacted your judgement, affected your body, altered your behavior…

And occasionally eroded your common sense.

Sitting alone in the corner of the Governor’s ballroom, Kim Taehyung found himself experiencing a full spectrum of emotional side-effects.

His hands clenched as he watched Min Yoongi spin you around the floor.

His heart pounded every time he caught a flash of your shapely leg peeking through the slit in your gown.

His blood boiled when you threw your head back and laughed at something the other man said.

It was difficult to pinpoint which emotion was to blame for each of these reactions. There were certainly a number of them boiling over in his subconscious.

Frustration—

I didn’t even want to talk to Aubrey! How are you acting like anything she said was my fault?!

Rage—

Why is challenging people to duels illegal? I would fight Min Yoongi at dawn. I would fight Min Yoongi now.

Jealousy—

You asked her to dance while my fingers were in her pussy. We are not the same.

But perhaps the most persistent—the most overwhelming— emotion twisting through him was longing.

You and Taehyung spent nearly four years apart, and he was so desperate to be near you—even then—that he resorted to childish pranks in order to remain a part of your life.

He hadn’t recognized his actions or desires for what they were. He hadn’t realized what you meant to him...

But now, after spending the last several days with your hand on his arm and your laughter in his ear, he could no longer imagine spending another moment without you.

Everything seemed to crystallize as he watched you laughing and dancing in the arms of another man.

Uncertainty became clear. Complications became simple.

And when he saw Min Yoongi’s hand slide dangerously close to the perfect swell of your backside—

Emotion became action.

“Mind if I cut in?”

It wasn’t a question really. Taehyung was already shouldering his rival out of the way and pulling you into his arms.

“Taehyung,” you hissed, shooting the bewildered Yoongi an apologetic look over his shoulder, “what are you doing? This is so rude—”

“You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, sweeping you through the couples on the floor with practiced ease. “It is unpardonably rude to steal someone else’s date. He’s lucky all I did was steal you back.”

Your mouth dropped open.

“Oh? So you finally remembered that I was your date?”

Taehyung’s grip on the curve of your waist became a shade rougher as he pulled you through the next turn.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means—” you stepped forward vigorously, nearly smashing your body into his, “—that you spent forty-five minutes with Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine when you were supposed to be having dinner with me!”

Taehyung growled and yanked you flush against him.

“I spent forty-five minutes looking for you while you were giving away my table to Min Yoongi!”

The two of you sailed through the next several movements glaring at one another before you snapped again.

“None of this would have happened if you had just told Aubrey St. Spray Tan that you were with me—”

“I did!”

“Instead, you let her call me a baby!”

“What let? Aubrey is a grown woman!”

“But—”

“And—you stormed off before I could say anything, so how would you know what I let?”

“You didn’t come after me!”

“Yes actually I did—but she grabbed my arm!”

“Really? Well what else did she grab?”

Taehyung abruptly realized how silent everything around you had become.

People were staring—and not even discreetly— just full on staring with their mouths hanging open.

Well that’s great.

Taehyung’s hand closed around yours and you suddenly found yourself being marched across the dance floor at a breakneck pace.

“What are you doing?”

“Continuing this discussion in private.”

“We can’t just go somewhere private in the Governor’s mansion!” you sputtered, struggling to keep up with his larger strides.

“You mean in my uncle’s house? Yes—actually we can—and we will.”

Taehyung proved to be a man of his word, dragging you past two security guards and into the roped off section of the manor with nothing more than a nod.

The residential wing of the Governor’s home was beautifully decorated with traditional Korean artistic touches—all of which you were unable to appreciate while Taehyung was speed walking you through the halls.

After a surprising amount of turns and archways, he yanked open an ornate wooden door with the words Reflection Suite written on a plaque above it in beautiful calligraphy.

You almost giggled when you got a look inside.

On the surface it was a tastefully furnished guest room with a simple cherry wood desk and a cozy double bed set in an elegant matching frame.

However—

The ceiling and one full wall were nothing but massive mirrors.

Reflection suite indeed.

The door slammed shut and Taehyung rounded on you with a stormy expression—though you weren’t waiting on him to fire the first volley.

“This is definitely going to get us in trouble.”

“I told you, I can go wherever I want in this house. It’s fine.”

“Then why did you take us here?”

“Because you were shouting—”

“I was shouting?! You were shouting I just—”

Suddenly your back was against the wall and Taehyung’s mouth was on yours.

He hadn’t brought you here for this. When he grabbed your hand, he was only trying to get away from the crowds. He told himself that he needed privacy so you could talk—so he could clarify things.

But the minute the door closed and you flared up again in all your magnificent rage, he was lost.

He had to kiss you then.

You were so lovely. So fierce. So wildly irresistible and he was too utterly smitten to fight the need to be near you—to be with you in every way that he could—for a single second more.

The shock of Kim Taehyung pressing his lips to yours lasted about two full seconds—and then there was nothing but ravenous insatiable need.

Finally.

Everything was him.

Everything was this—this sweet indescribable ignition of a desire that spanned years. You moaned eagerly against his mouth in wanton delight. After a decade of sparks, you were more than ready to burn.

“Taehyung—”

His name poured out of you like a prayer. You needed him everywhere and miraculously he seemed to understand—

Not that he was prepared to be polite about it.

“Where’s that smart mouth now, Angel?” he growled, tangling his hands in your hair to expose the tender column of your throat. “Nothing to say?”

Your only answer was a desperate whine as he spread hot-open mouthed kisses down the soft skin of your neck all the way to your collarbone.

Now was not the time for patience. He would be tender with you later. You absolutely deserved soft sweet caresses and slow leisurely love making and he was absolutely going to give them to you—every day if you’d let him.

But not today.

The minute his mouth encountered the barrier of your dress, he gripped onto the sides and yanked it down to your waist.

“You knew just what you were doing in the back of that limo, you little brat,” he hissed, taking one swollen nipple into his mouth and tormenting it with his tongue.

“Tae-ahhh!” Your back arched involuntarily in ruthless pleasure.

“I spent hours—days even—wanting to get my hands on these perfect tits.” He licked the other nipple obscenely, squeezing the soft mound till it bulged through his fingers. “And you offered me the barest taste with that coy little grin, knowing it wouldn’t be enough—”

He reared back and landed a firm slap on both breasts and you screamed.

It was so so good.

“Look at them now,” he murmured, “so swollen and needy and mine.”

If any other man had said those words, you would have cut his heart out with a butter knife.

But you had always belonged to this man body and soul, and to hear him acknowledge it so primitively felt like the sweetest vindication.

“Yes!” you sobbed.

The affirmation only inflamed him further. He teased and fondled the tender flesh till you were shaking.

Your fingers curled into the soft waves of his hair as he indulged himself. He looked so ridiculously good sucking your nipple, moaning lewdly with his eyes pressed shut in cathartic bliss.

“This is all your fault, Angel,” he groaned. “You just don’t know how to behave.”

His hands gripped the curve of your backside, lifting you right off the floor and into his arms. Your mouths fused together heatedly as he carried you to the bed, and you giggled against him when his words finally processed.

“You’ve been saying that for years.”

“It’s been true for years,” he muttered, pulling one of your legs up around him so he could grind against your cunt while you kissed.

Your fingers tugged at the buttons of his shirt, tearing them off when they didn’t unhook fast enough. You waited too long to be with him like this to care about anything other than the feel of his skin against your own.

“Impatient, are we?” he chuckled, bringing his lips around to nip at your ear.

“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, yanking the ruined garment right off his shoulder just so you could sink your teeth into it.

Taehyung moaned loudly, snapping his hips against yours with an involuntary jerk.

“You really are such a brat,” he hissed, fisting his hands in the satin length of your skirt. “Let’s see how fierce you are with my tongue in your pussy—”

His words were so filthy and raw, yet they stoked a frenzied need in your belly like nothing you had ever encountered.

“This dress is evil,” he snarled, fumbling with the zipper for a moment before switching to a more destructive tactic. “It has tormented me all night and now it’s in my way.”

The stitching proved no match for his resolve, and—after a few vigorous tugs—he ripped it apart from the slit on up, leaving you covered in nothing but the thin cotton underwear he had breached earlier that evening.

After disposing of your shredded gown, Taehyung paused for a moment just to take in the sight of you.

“What a perfect little angel,” he taunted playfully, snapping the band of your lingerie against your hips with a cocky grin.

Then he brushed his nose right up against the sopping fabric and inhaled deeply. “You smell just like heaven,” he growled before licking you right through the cloth, “and you taste even better.”

The sensations twisting through your body were merciless. You needed more or you were going to shake apart.

“Taehyung please,” you whined, pressing against him shamelessly.

“Oh a please?” he chuckled, throwing your own words from the first night back at you. “Who knew you had manners?”

You would have screamed in frustration, but he cut you off with an open mouthed kiss right over the wettest part of your panties.

“Perhaps I can make a good girl of you yet,” he chuckled, as you opened yourself wider to encourage him.

You nodded frantically, letting out another moan when he yanked the flimsy little scrap of lace down your legs—smearing a line of arousal over your thighs.

“So messy,” he tsked, tapping his finger right above your knee where the naughty little streak ended. “What am I going to do with you?”

Then he pressed his tongue over the shiny trail of slick and licked it right off.

You gasped loudly and his lascivious smirk was almost beautiful enough to make up for all of the shameless teasing.

Almost.

"You want my mouth, pretty Angel?” he whispered, letting the words brush maddeningly against your folds. “You want me to feed on this sweet little cunt?”

Every cell in your body cried out for release. He already edged you under the table at dinner and now he was determined to unravel you entirely. You would say anything—do anything.

"Please—" you whispered.

"Please who?"

Normally you met his arrogance with a cutting riposte, but an entire evening of methodical torment had left you beyond desperate.

"Please Taehyung,” you begged needily.

He grinned.

“That’s right, Angel. Kim Taehyung. Not Min Yoongi or any other pathetic trust fund prick that’s panting for a taste of this pussy.” His eyes fastened on yours significantly. “You belong to me.”

Then his tongue licked a flat stripe over your glistening slit and you sagged onto the bed in relief—only to be thrown back into oblivion when his lips closed over your clit.

Your body arched involuntarily as a ruthless wave of pleasure tore through you. Your eyes and mouth flew open in a silent scream and it was in that moment you remembered exactly where you were.

Underneath a giant mirror.

The passionate woman staring down at you was nearly unrecognizable. Her body was littered with her lover’s marks. Her hands gripped feverishly into the sheets beneath her—-

And Kim Taehyung was kneeling between her thighs, suckling on her weeping cunt with obscene satisfaction.

It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your life.

Your hands reached down to tangle in his hair, using it for leverage as you ground against his face.

Then suddenly his grip on your legs tightened and his tongue plunged roughly into your trembling core.

“Tae—ahh oh my—I can’t—”

The sensation was so intense that your hips bucked violently. You could not keep still. You were charging towards an explosion and your body was shaking itself apart.

The noises tearing from you were incoherent. Everything around you focused in on the juncture of your thighs where Taehyung was licking inside of you again and again until—

You shattered.

And the force of it nearly bent your back in half.

Delirious sobs poured from your lips as he worked you through it, letting the obscene flood of your cum soak his face.

The sight of him slowly lapping at the release between your folds, was unspeakably erotic. He ran his hands in soothing circles over your skin while you twitched and fluttered back down from your high.

Then he was kissing you again.

It was softer this time, but you felt truly depraved—and instantly obsessed—with the taste of yourself in his mouth—on his skin.

You could barely understand this ravenous hunger. You’d just found relief, yet you were already reaching for more.

Your hands snaked down and wrapped around his still covered cock and he hissed in ragged pleasure.

“So eager,” he gasped, as you pushed him back against the headboard—but you didn’t have time to bother with his teasing.

You were gonna blow Kim Taehyung into space.

He bit his lip when you yanked down his pants and boxers together, freeing his arousal with stunning efficiency.

It was almost unfair to discover that his cock was every bit as beautiful as he was.

“Of course,” you muttered.

The sultry smirk he shot you in return had your cunt flooding all over again.

“You think Min Yoongi has a cock like mine?”

“I don’t think about Min Yoongi’s cock,” you retorted, wrapping your hand around his length, “you’ve always been the biggest dick I’ve ever met.”

“I knew you thought about my dick,” he groaned as you began to work up and down the swollen shaft.

After a moment, his hand slid over your chin to grip your hair, drawing you forward till your lips were almost touching.

“I wonder what this pretty mouth can do,” he whispered.

You gasped against him and he smiled.

“Do you know how often I pictured your lips around my cock, Angel?”

You mewled shamelessly and he growled, cupping your cheek as your hands continued to service him.

“Do you know how often I imagined this perfect throat stuffed full of my cum?”

His palm slid down to lightly grip the soft flesh of your neck and you shuddered against him with a needy whimper.

“I know you could suck me so good, Angel. I’ve wanted it for so so long...”

Your mouth actually watered with anticipation.

The desire to be good for him—to give him whatever he asked for—consumed you.

Taehyung let his head fall back against the headboard with a groan at the first brush of your lips along his shaft. His hips rutted involuntarily as your tongue wrapped around the tip and you hummed with pleasure at his enthusiastic response.

After a moment you slid him into the welcoming heat of your mouth, taking him in as far as you could in one stroke. His jaw dropped open and his entire body jerked forward.

“Yes, that’s it, Angel—feels so good.”

His praise was addictive.

You loved that you could bring him to this. You loved to see the haughty Kim Taehyung coming apart as you sucked him.

It made you feel beautiful—powerful even—and you reveled in every second of it.

Your eyes were starting to tear. His length began to throb and pulse against your tongue and you knew he was close—so close you could almost taste him—

Yet suddenly he was pulling you back and you whined pitifully at the loss.

Taehyung chuckled, dragging you toward him till your dripping core slid across his cock.

“I’m not coming before I get inside that pretty little pussy,” he swore, working your hips over his sex till it was drenched in arousal.

The crass words filled you with the fiercest, most incredible want and you clenched reflexively against him in response.

“Is that what you want?” Taehyung whispered as he bore you back into the mattress, pinning both your wrists above your head. “You want me to fill your empty little cunt?”

You did.

You wanted it so so bad.

“Please.”

Taehyung gently lowered himself closer to you, resting his forehead intimately against yours as he lined up his cock at your entrance.

“Are you sure, Angel? Because there’s no going back after this... If you give yourself to me, then you’re mine—and I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you.”

“Taehyung, you idiot,”—a tender smile spread over your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck—“... I’ve always been yours.”

He swore violently—letting the slight tremble in his voice betray just how deeply your words affected him.

Then his fingers tightened on the soft flesh of your hip and he filled you to the hilt with one delicious thrust.

There was a moment—the smallest space in time—where your eyes locked together and everything seemed to suspend; a strange perfect calm before a monumental storm.

Then your world caught fire.

Taehyung drove himself into you with passionate fury, letting years of denial fuel the insatiable rhythm of his strokes.

Every time he told himself no. Every time he held himself back—

Every bit of it burned away as you screamed his name.

The feel of him was indescribable.

You imagined it too many times to count, yet your dreams fell pitifully short of the visceral reality.

He was bloomin’ magnificent.

Your fingers clawed up and down his back, desperate to hold on to something while he pounded into your g-spot like an animal.

“This tiny cunt is the tightest thing I’ve ever had around my cock,” he gasped and you whined needily at his praise. “Like it was made for me—” his hand came up to grip your breast, “like you were made for me.”

“Yes—”

Taehyung’s need seemed to amplify with every whimper and moan that fell from your lips. The feelings you sparked in him were fierce and unapologetically primitive.

He would go to war for you—build a fortress for you—fight a dragon if one dared come close.

You were his.

And he felt like a savage every time you cried out for more.

Suddenly an unexpected movement in his periphery caught his attention.

He’d been so consumed with the extraordinary rush of claiming you that he’d forgotten—

This guest room was thirty-five percent mirrors.

And now… he couldn’t look away.

The sight of your bodies tangling together in headless bliss played out before him like a scene from his most debauched and forbidden fantasies. His reflection grinned back at him in fascinated ecstasy while his beloved nemesis lost herself in the pleasure of his cock.

Something dark and wild began to burn in his chest as he studied the lovers in the glass.

“Look at you, Angel,” he whispered softly, “you really are perfect.”

Then he pulled out of your core and you whined bitterly in protest, chasing his body to rid yourself of the sudden unacceptable emptiness.

“Still so needy,” he taunted, gripping your hips and flipping you on your stomach before you could even think to protest.

“I want you to watch that pretty angel in the mirror come on my cock,” he groaned, plunging back into you from behind.

The new angle was somehow impossibly deeper and your body shook as another wave of pleasure overtook it.

Your fingers clawed into the mattress for purchase as he pistoned into your trembling mound.

Only Kim Taehyung could rail you like a whore while he worshiped you like a queen.

He gave you a moment to adjust before drawing your body back against his chest. His arm wrapped over your stomach as he slowly eased your legs apart, unfolding the lewd tableau of your bodies joined together for the voyeuristic gaze of the glass.

“Look at yourself, Angel,” he growled, mesmerized by the way your breasts bounced with every thrust. “Look at how well you're taking me.”

Then his fingers slid down to rub your clit and you screamed.

“Tae! Ah-ahh!”

The pleasure building within you now was violent. You were coiling too tightly, too fast—

“That’s right Angel. Take it all.”

Your eyes locked with his in the mirror for the briefest instant.

And then you flew apart.

Taehyung threw his head back with a carnal moan as you clamped down around him. His body was hurtling toward its own release with reckless speed.

“I’m close,” he panted, “where can I come?”

“Come inside me please,” you begged, and Taehyung’s eyes widened in frenzied lust.

“That’s what you want? Huh?” his thrusts became rougher as he chased his relief, “You want me to fill this puffy little pussy with my cum?”

“Yes, I want it so bad—“ you sobbed.

“Sweet Angel,” he groaned, gripping at your breasts as he pulled you tighter against him.

Then he met your gaze in the mirror again.

“I want everything with you; a home—a family—your body in my arms every morning when I wake up—” his voice trembled, “I want it all.”

The raw vulnerability in his eyes nearly broke you.

“Tae,” you gasped softly, too overcome with joy to manage anything else.

His mouth pressed hungrily against the curve of your shoulder. You could feel his cock throbbing in your core as he bent you forward, pounding into your sex with exquisite precision.

"Stay with me, Angel,” he whispered. His thrusts became erratic as he neared his high. “I don’t want to live without you anymore.”

The glorious thrill of his words tore over your senses with euphoric brutality. Your walls tightened greedily around his cock and the taunt cord of pleasure finally snapped.

He came with a broken groan, flooding the welcoming heat of your womb with his release.

“KIM TAEHYUNG!”

The sound of his name being shouted by the absolute last person in the world whose voice he wanted to hear woke Taehyung from a dead sleep.

His eyes widened in panic as he began yanking pillows and covers from all over the bed in a frenzied attempt to hide—

The doors to his bedroom flew open with a resounding crash.

“Jimin,” he squeaked, trying to look as casual as possible next to a giant pile of bedding. “What uh—what brings you here at—” his eyes darted to the clock on the wall, “—7:30 in the morning?”

Then he frowned.

“And how the hell did you get past Jungkook?”

Jimin’s murderous expression broke momentarily to allow for a smug grin.

“Kendra.”

Kendra Jackson was Jimin’s executive aide. She was fierce, capable, intelligent—

And insanely gorgeous.

Taehyung groaned.

Poor Jungkookie never stood a chance.

To the surprise of absolutely no one, yet another newspaper landed on Taehyung’s lap.

KIM HEIR BRINGS NAUGHTY ANGEL HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

Underneath the headline was a picture of you and Taehyung (dressed in clothes you stole from Jin’s childhood bedroom) kissing passionately against the side entrance of the Governor’s mansion.

One of your legs was wrapped around his waist and he was clearly grabbing your ass.

“Ah… well you see the camera distorts everything from this angle—and-and the lighting is bad so it’s not really what it looks like—”

“Is that so? Cause it looks like you’ve got your tongue down my baby sister’s throat!”

“Okay—okay,” Taehyung massaged his forehead nervously, “so maybe it’s sort of what it looks like but—”

“I’ll kill you.”

“No wait—” he held up his hands to delay an already advancing Jimin.

“Why should I wait?!”

“Because—”

“—I trusted you with the most important person in the world to me—”

“The situation is just not that simple.”

“—and you grabbed her ass in public!”

“Admittedly not my finest hour.”

“So you tell me right now—”

“But you don’t understand it’s—”

“—Why the hell would I wait?!”

“BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH HER!”

For a moment there was absolute silence.

Then your head popped out from the massive pile of bedding.

“Really?”

Jimin’s mouth fell open.

Taehyung groaned again.

“As usual, your timing is impeccable.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment.

“Are you really in love with me?”

“Of course I’m in love with you! What part of I want you to have my children did you not understand?!”

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jimin choked.

“That’s not the same thing!”

“It is for me!”

A radiant smile lit up your face.

“I’m in love with you too.”

Taehyung’s expression softened.

“Angel I—”

Then you were kissing and Jimin swung around with a horrified shout.

“Oh! No no no—Come on!”

He stumbled out of the room, hands firmly clamped over his eyes.

“This is not over, Kim Taehyung!” the scandalized young Park heir howled in exasperation… but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Back in the bedroom, Taehyung shook his head at Jimin’s ridiculous caterwauling.

“No, it’s not over,” he laughed, pulling you deeper into the comfort of his arms. “It’s only just begun.”

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story.

This baby took FOR-EVER to write. I started it in November and literally worked on it a little every day.

If you enjoyed it— even just a tiny bit—please consider taking a moment to leave me some feedback. It is so incredibly uplifting and rewarding to hear reader thoughts and reactions to my work.

I promise to treasure every word like gold. It took a lot to bring this story to life. Your kind words would mean the world to me.

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fruggo · 3 years

Note

Hello ! I saw the enemies fo lovers things and I wanna request if possible

“ rich coming from the guy who tried to kill me three days ago. “

With frank if you would and thank you

yessirrr i love frank sm it’s not ok. also umm i may have accidentally written friends to enemies to lovers or something idk. and though i wouldnt necessarily call you friends at the start, you werent really enemies yet???? idk🐸just ummm yeh i love frank

also help how do i not go overboard???? i feel like i made this way too long, please help and i am sorry

warnings: canon-typical violence, swearing, frank being a bastard but then you’re like awwww he’s a cute bastard aaaaw

Things were weird with Frank, and they always had been from the moment you stepped foot in the Entity’s realm. He always tunneled you relentlessly, and that made you think of him as a big asshole, but there were some strange details tacked onto the sentiment that greatly confused you, should you think about it for more than three seconds.

Sometimes, it seemed like he went easy on you in chases, like he put in no effort. He would chase you for a while, let you waste his time, and then leave without even getting a hit on you when he definitely had the ability to.

And you hated saying this, but when he handled you, it almost felt…gentle. Granted, he was a killer, and his job was to murder you, but your experiences with him did not quite line up with those of the other survivors.

They always described trials against Frank as “stepping on legos in the middle of the night” or something akin to that. You never felt like that, though—when he chased you, it felt fair. Almost as if he played nice with you. And more often than not, the killer would let you go when he caught you. The reason remained a mystery to you until quite a bit later.

This trial, Frank was in 100% bastard mode. You had begun to think of his trials as quite easy due to his seemingly calm nature around you, so you were rather caught off guard when he downed you in the first 30 seconds of the match and tossed you onto a hook, no gentleness whatsoever.

You wanted to yell at him and ask what the fuck was wrong with him until you realized this was his fucking job, and this is how he should have been treating you all along. Maybe you had just been imagining it all, but you could have sworn he used to leave you alone more than this. Something just felt different.

After you were unhooked, he went for you again. And again. And then you were dead, completely wiped out of the trial. Frank had demolished you with no remorse.

You knew it was silly to feel betrayed, but you really couldn’t help it. In such an insane and hellish place, anything that could be even remotely perceived as kindness seemed like so much more of a big deal than it truly was. So Frank’s supposed “gentleness” with you had felt somewhat like a friend doing you a selfless favor. Of course, it was not a selfless favor, and it was certainly nowhere near kindness, because he was still a killer chasing you with a knife, but your standards had really lowered in this place.

After that trial, you were back to hating Frank for tunneling and bullying you (like you probably should). You began to understand the survivors’ saying about the legos—and you hoped that Frank would step on some legos too, because he fucking sucked sometimes.

And for a while, that’s just how it was. You nearly forgot how he used to go easier on you, and how you used to do okay in his matches. Now every time you were pit against each other it just felt like you were being stuck with a bunch of pins; you never had any time to breathe or rest or do literally anything. He just went after you until you were gone, and there was next to nothing you could do about it.

Everything changed very suddenly during a trial at Ormond.

You were expecting the same old routine with this asshole—chase, blah blah blah, die. You hardly had energy to fight back anymore.

So when he arrived out of breath at the killer shack, somehow knowing you would be here, Frank was surprised to find you relaxing under the window with your arms loosely crossed, a disapproving scowl upon your countenance. It was enough to make him hesitate in his tracks.

You let out a deep breath, refusing to break eye contact with his mask; you kept up that menacing frown for as long as you could, trying to make him feel guilty (who knows if it was even possible for him to feel guilty? But it was worth a try).

“Just kill me,” you said, voice steady and seemingly unbothered. Underneath the surface, you were trembling, but you stood your ground. “That’s what you’re gonna do, isn’t it? You’re going to chase me until I’m miserable and kill me off as soon as you can?”

Frank went still, not even fidgeting with his knife like he usually did; he was intrigued by your sudden confidence.

You went on. “I’m really sick and tired of you, you know that? I’m sick of you and your bullshit. Why can’t you treat me like everybody else? At first, you went easy on me. Now you just torture me with your stupid mind games, and frankly, I’m sick of playing! I’m done with you—I don’t care anymore! Just kill me, and I’ll get out of your way, okay asshole? Mori me if you want. I don’t give a shit.”

You put your hands up exasperatedly, fully expecting him to take the offer and just send you back to the campfire right then and there. But the man sighed, pocketed his knife, and sat down right next to you as if this were a normal thing for him to do.

You scooted a few inches away out of instinct. Frank noticed, but he chose not to say a word about it.

It was a long time before he said anything, and when he finally did, you wanted to punch him so bad.

“It’s complicated,” he mumbled. And that was all.

Oh, yeah? It was complicated? You scoffed, hanging your head with a bitter smile. “Oh, okay. Sure.”

Silence again.

Awkward, suffocating silence.

And then Frank got up and left. You were unbothered for the remainder of the trial, not even a scratch or bruise on your body.

Sometimes you simply did things, and you didn’t know why. This thing that you just did was irrational, stupid, unplanned, unwise, and everything in-between, and you knew it was, but frequently you just had no impulse control. Perhaps it was the Entity’s influence, or maybe you had always been this way—you couldn’t really remember.

How did you get here again? Why were you laying on the ground? And why did your leg hurt so fucking much?

Oh, yes. Yes, yes, you remember now.

Funnily enough, it seems as though the Entity, along with certain killers, did not like it when survivors tried to enter their side of the forest! But you did it anyways, and it appeared that you had suffered the consequences. It’s not like you had put much thought into it; where was the point in that when nothing mattered anymore and you were stuck in an endless cycle of death?

You remembered entering the killer’s woods, looking around, and doing…something. What was that something? You couldn’t be sure, but then you remembered somebody coming up to you and probably definitely hurting you. Yep, your leg definitely was in a lot of pain. You couldn’t even look at it. Did you pass out for a while? Maybe. How long were you out for?

You lay still there for a while, thinking. Man, it really hurt, and boy, were you miserable. Maybe more miserable than you’d ever felt here. The Entity normally healed wounds immediately, but perhaps you had just angered it so much you deserved to suffer.

Oh, dear! You seemed to be passing out at this time. Yes, that was almost certainly what was happening. Black spots danced across your eyes as your body began to feel distant and numb, but you didn’t feel very worried about it. In fact, you felt like making jokes right now, but you had nobody to make jokes to and you probably couldn’t even speak.

Just as you began to accept it, there was a strange thumping sensation vibrating through the ground growing closer…and closer…

Footsteps! That’s good!

Oh. Not if it’s a killer. That’s not good, probably.

But you had no way of protesting when you felt yourself being picked up, because those black spots in your eyes were dancing a lot faster now, perhaps something akin to an Irish jig, and you also couldn’t feel your limbs.

Then you were fast asleep again, dreaming of Irish dancers who were actually big fluffy cloud people wearing leprechaun clothes. Nobody but you would ever know this, and it was going to stay that way.

On the bright side, it made it a lot easier for your rescuer to carry you to safety like this.

When you awoke once more, you were horrified to find yourself in the Ormond lodge of all places. You knew immediately what had happened and were determined to escape as soon as possible.

Your injured leg proved to be a huge problem, however, and you collapsed the second you attempted to find freedom. Trying again, you collapsed once more, and probably maimed yourself further in the process.

Hearing the commotion from the second floor, your least favorite member of The Legion descended down from the main stairs, refusing to look directly at you even as he scooped you up and plunked you (gently) back onto the couch, which was rather comfortable (not that you would ever tell him that).

So he was playing it cool, huh?

Okay. You could play it cool, too. You were cool. Smooth as butter.

No. You really couldn’t be cool in a situation like this, and plus, your mind was still a little woohoo since whatever accident had occurred. Suddenly you blurted out, “Frank, I hate your guts.”

And he had the audacity to laugh. He laughed at you! He did the man chuckle thing, as if what you were saying was funny. No! You were completely serious! You did hate his guts!

Perhaps your face showed how upset you were, because he started to apologize (still laughing).

“Maybe you should go back to sleep,” Frank said after calming down a bit.

No. You couldn’t go back to sleep. You did not want to experience dancing cloud people dressed as leprechauns ever again in your life, for the rest of eternity. Never again.

So you shook your head violently, refusing to give an explanation, which just provoked Frank to anger all of a sudden. If you went back to sleep, he could have some alone time while the rest of The Legion was gone. He kept pushing, and you kept resisting, and he pushed and you resisted, until finally he gave up and let you off with a warning. If you made him mad again, he was throwing you out in the snow.

Fine with me, you said. Okay, I’ll do it right now, he said. No balls, you said.

So then Frank casually went to scoop you up in his arms again, and you started to freak out and beat your hands against his chest until he put you back down. He was was awfully mindful of your hurt leg for someone who was about to throw you into the snow.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—please don’t throw me out,” you fussed. You thought he wouldn’t actually do it. You didn’t know it, but you were right—he was just messing with you because it was funny seeing you scared.

After a bit more griping back and forth, Frank began to grow concerned about your leg. He didn’t know how to bring up the topic because things were so odd between the two of you; this was your first interaction since the brief encounter in the shack. But he swallowed his pride, because the wound seemed to be getting worse by the minute.

“Hey, do you want me to, uhh…get some supplies?” Frank asked awkwardly. When you didn’t understand, he continued, “Your leg? It looks like it hurts…I could fix it if you want.”

You barked out a laugh at his words, unbelieving of this shift in attitude. “Rich coming from the guy who tried to kill me three days ago,” you snickered, genuinely finding it amusing.

Frank took offense. He was trying to be nice for once, and you thought it was funny. And his situation really was complex, whether you chose to believe it or not. Maybe he should just tell you to get it off of his chest.

“Listen,” he said, voice laced with seriousness. “When I told you things were complicated, I meant it.”

Sensing the mood change from his tone and body language, you stopped smiling and decided to pay attention to him. Just this once. Never again. After this you could go back to hating him.

Frank continued. “The Entity was going to start…well, hurting me, if I didn’t start doing better in trials. I really didn’t want to sacrifice you, which is embarrassing to admit, but I’ll say it. And I don’t think it liked that.”

You were surprised. And also relieved that you had been right all along—he had been going easy on you at first.

“Why me, though?” you asked, confused. “Why wouldn’t you want to sacrifice me? What about the other survivors?”

If the slight tilt of his head at your question didn’t answer it for you, the way he started tapping his feet and cracking his knuckles so nervously did.

Boy, if looks could kill, you would have died instantly at the scowl Frank sent your way; you grinned pridefully at the realization that this man was down bad. You couldn’t see the expression behind his mask, though, which Frank was thankful for.

He hated every second of this, but you loved it. You reveled in his embarrassment.

Leaning forward on your hands, you begged, “Tell me more! I want to hear all about your feelings for me.”

“I could stab you right now, you know that?”

“But you won’t. You liiiiike me!”

“What are you, eight years old?”

“No, but I am severely injured and have lost a lot of blood so I am not necessarily in the right headspace at the moment.”

“You make a fair point.”

“So tell me! What’s your favorite thing about me?”

“Your ass.”

“No, really.”

“Okay, your ass and your hair.”

“You know what, Frank, I still hate your guts.”

“No, you don’t.”

You paused for a moment. It was probably the blood loss talking, you decided later, but you said, “No. Maybe I don’t.”

#:) i kinda rly like this ahaha it was fun #i hope it’s okay <3 #fruggo writes #requests #enemies to lovers prompt #frank morrison x reader #frank morrison #the legion x reader #the legion #dbd x reader #dbd oneshot #dbd writing #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight #dbd #dbd frank

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slutforagoodsmut · 3 years

Text

Imagine: Dracula’s daughter

She had always been a daddy’s girl, that was certain. Since she was an infant she was attached to him by the hip, always followed him around the castle, always found him fascinating. Of course she loved her mother and Alucard as well. Days her father was busy she’d stay in her mother’s laboratory, watching Lisa mix medicines and asking questions.

“What is this?” she’d ask, barely able to look over the table. Her mother would only laugh and pick her up, sitting her down on the smooth slab of her work space.

“This is a new medicine I’m working on. It will help sick people become strong and healthy, just like you!” Lisa would poke her daughter’s tummy and the little dhampir girl would squirm in a fit of giggles. She loved her mother, she looked up to her.

Her and her brother always found things to do around the castle, painting and writing poetry, playing tag or hide and seek, which Alucard always won for some odd reason.

“You cheated!” she whined, crossing her arms.

“I did not!” Alucard stuck his tongue out at his sister. “I’m just older and faster than you!”

“By a minute! You are older by a minute!”

And at the end of the day, the young dhampir would always find herself in her father’s study, reading a book beside him or begging him to read to her. She’d always end up falling asleep in his lap and he’d carry her to bed, tucking her in and kissing her goodnight. He loved her, he loved his little girl with all his undead heart. Of course there was Lisa, the love of his life, and he did love his children equally, but she always had a special place in his heart.

As the years went on, the girl blossomed into a beautiful young woman. She had long, onyx locks like her father and a sharp tongue like her mother. She was snarky and always had something to say, but she was kind and she was loving, and she had such a big heart full of passion and wonder. She wanted to help others just like her mother, often visited houses of the ones who Lisa was close to and aided her mother if she needed it. Alucard and her loved to duel one another, and she made sure she always won. They picked on each other and instigated but it was all out of great fun. The princess took long walks with her father at night and he told her about his new discoveries between vampires and humans, and her being her, was always fascinated and wanted to know more.

Like Alucard and her mother, she had the privilege of stepping out into sunlight without a problem. She grew her fangs in before her brother when she was a small infant, which to this day she enjoys hanging over his head. She was tall and strong, and very fast, as well as very skilled with a sword. She had long nails she could extend and retract and could turn into animals, making it easier to stalk her prey at night.

Everything was....perfect, you might say. Her life was perfect, sure she lacked friends but she had a wonderful home and a loving family that she could depend on.

That all changed after that horrific night in 1475. When Lisa Tepes was killed everything crumbled to dust. The love in the castle had disappeared, it was so cold and dark and stunk of misery.

She grew strained from her father once Alucard had left home. She didn’t want him to go and he didn’t want to leave her, but they both knew it was for the best.

In a year, it was almost like two complete strangers shared a home. Dracula made no effort to connect with his daughter as he was so caught up with damning the whole world to hell, and in that time his daughter pushed him away. She barely spoke with him, didn’t even attempt to at this point. He was so angry, so angry with the world and with everyone in it. Lisa wouldn’t have wanted this, her children knew that. Their mother was a part of the human race, mortality ran through the children’s blood. They were a part of them, and their father wanted to burn them all.

She grew angrier and angrier with her father as the dreadful days passed on. He let these other vampires into their home and they did whatever they wanted! And what did he do, wallow away into nothing in his library, sitting in front of the fireplace every single day! Pathetic! Absolutely pathetic!

One day, she had enough. Dracula’s daughter couldn’t stand a single day more in that castle, enraged with her father she planned to leave. She considered leaving without telling him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. So, with a satchel over her shoulder holding her most valuable things, she walked into her father’s library. The back of his chair was to her, and yes, he stared into his fireplace like he always had.

“I’m leaving.” she spoke up, gripping the strap of her bag. Nothing, he didn’t say a word, he didn’t even move a muscle in his seat. His daughter only sighed, a tear rolling down her cheek as she turned away. “Goodbye, father.”

Part of her never wanted to see him ever again. Part of her wanted nothing more to do with her father, but she knew deep down their paths would cross again, and she’d end up in that castle once more.

She was alone, really alone this time, she had no one to turn to, she kept her distance from strangers and if they gave her trouble she’d risk the danger and bear her fangs, making them all run away in fear. The one night, one fateful night, she had run into her brother and two others who accompanied him. She was running through the woods as night creatures attacked, she’d slaughtered as many as she could, but they were closing in on her. In that moment she felt powerless till three beings came out of the thick woods and ended the monsters’ rampage.

“Alucard?” she whispered, leaning herself against a tree, holding her side which bled a concerningly amount.

He gasped, his eyes widened with shock as he looked at his dear sister. “Sister?”

“You have a sister?” The strange woman spoke up in her thick accent.

“Oh god, not another one of you....” A tall dark haired man grumbled, slapping his hand over his face.

Alucard’s sister ran over to him and threw her arms around him as hard as she could. She couldn’t believe it. She had so many questions. How was he here? Why wasn’t he underground like he said he’d be? Who were these people?

Overtime, these questions were answered. The woman was a speaker, her name was Sypha, and that other oaf of a man was a Belmont, Trevor Belmont, a vampire’s sworn enemy. She thought they died off years ago, but never mind that. Her brother had woken from his year of slumber when the two of them accidentally found him (more so Trevor than Sypha) and asked if he’d help them in their quest.

“We’re going to the castle...” Alucard spoke softly. His sister sat across from him, staring quietly into the fire they had made. She wasn’t stupid, she could put the puzzle pieces together. They were going there to end Dracula’s terror for once and for all. Her heart broke, just like it had before. She had to come to terms with killing their father, it was such a painful thing to imagine but...if that meant millions and millions of people would survive, then so be it.

“It just hurts, ya’know? I mean, how could anyone go through with the idea of murdering their father?”

“He’s not our father, not anymore at least.”

Alucard was right, she hated to admit it. That monster conducting all of this genocide wasn’t their father. Their father was loving and caring, and this man....wasn’t any of that. The king of darkness was blinded by a rage and there was no looking back. Their father died when Lisa Tepes took her last breath.

One by one, she slit the throats of dozens. Striking her sword through vampire soldiers, beheading the generals who held councils in her very home, the ones who practically took her home away from her. Was it truly still her home, she couldn’t tell, all she knew it as now was Vlad Dracula’s hideout, nothing more. She would get her revenge on every last one of them, her fists driving through their chests and yanking out their still beating hearts, crushing them in her palms. How dare they mock her home as if it were their own little sanctuary. How dare they.

“Alucard--you, Belmont and Sypha fight off those night creatures! I’m going to find our father!” She yelled as she climbed the steps.

Alucard impaled a night creature “Be careful! He’ll hurt you!”

But she was already down the hall and up the steps to her father’s library. Millions of thoughts ran through her mind. The guilt of it all, having to go through an act that would be considered unspeakable under God’s law. Half vampire or not, she knew she’d be damned to hell in the end.

She took in a few breaths before peeking in. Her father, to her surprise, was not slumped in his chair but standing, he grabbed one of his forgemasters, Isaac, and threw him through his mirror. Isaac let out a scream and the mirror broke into pieces, falling on the ground.

“Father.” She spoke, walking into the room. Dracula tensed up, turning his body towards the door, bearing his fangs.

“My child, the betrayer.”

Her chest tightened, eyes wide. Betrayer? He thinks she betrayed him?

“I did no such thing.”

“Lies!” He snapped, his eyes blood red. “You walked out of this castle and turned your back on your own father!”

“Well you had already turned your back on me!” She screamed at him. “You didn’t try to make me stay! You didn’t even attempt to!”

“I knew what side you were on from the beginning. You were a lost cause.” Dracula’s voice was cold and harsh.

Tears sprouted at the corner of her eyes. “How could you even say that?! You act like you were the only one who lost someone!”

Dracula turned away from his daughter, seething with anger.

“You weren’t there! You were never there! All you’ve done was cause havoc!”

“I did it all for her!” Dracula roared, whipping around and towering his large body over hers.

“And look where that got you!” She bellowed back at him, eyes now blood red as tears streamed down her face. “Look where that got you. You pushed Alucard away, you pushed me away. Mother would never--” Her body was thrown across the room and she hit the bookshelf, falling to the ground. She wheezed out, coughing out blood. He struck her. He...struck her. Her vision was foggy, but she could make out her father standing on the other side of the room. She tried to stand up but she couldn’t, her body didn’t let her. Again she tried, but she couldn’t do it. She hadn’t had blood in such a long time, she’s grown too weak. Why she didn’t consider that going into this mess she doesn’t know, but it was a stupid mistake. Suddenly her world went dark, and she laid unconscious on the ground.

It wasn’t too long till she had woken up from her spot, her father no longer in the library. She could hear screaming from above her. She gasped, getting up as quick as she could and stumbling over herself. Alucard.

She ran and ran, going up another floor, and then another. The dhampir suddenly collided with Sypha and Belmont.

“You’re alright!” Sypha exclaimed.

“Where is he!? Where is Alucard?!”

“Upstairs, with Dracula!”

Her vampire senses tingled. His room. They were in Alucard’s old room. She bolted up the floors and down the hall. They were screaming, things were being shattered, she could feel the whole castle shake beneath her feet.

Alucard was thrown against the wall, their father closing in on him, ready to finish the job.

“ENOUGH!” His sister shrieked at the top of her lungs, stepping in between them. Her father stopped in his tracks.

There she stood, sword in both hands, pointing the tip against her own chest.

“What--What are you doing?!” Dracula bellowed.

Alucard shook his head, fear in his eyes. “No, don’t do it!”

“I’d rather kill myself than live in this world with you, you monster!”

With that, somehow Dracula had come to his senses. The night filled the room, the moonlight shining in through the window. Dracula gasped, his eyes no longer flaming with hatred, but filled with sadness. His daughter kept the sword where it was and she began to cry, hard, endless tears rushing down her pale face.

“Look what you’ve done father...” She sobbed, hands trembling.

Dracula stared at her, then at her brother, then finally his hands. “What am I doing? I....” he choked on his words. “My children, my son and daughter. I’m killing them Lisa. I’m killing our children.” He walked over to a painting that hung on the wall. It was of all of them; Dracula and Lisa, both holding their bundles of joy. He looked at his children again and truly realized how much hurt he’s caused them. How much pain he’s caused his daughter. She mourned in their home, alone, while he selfishly sought out revenge. “My daughter would rather end her life than live in a world with her father.” he looked at her, tears now running from his eyes, “These are the walls we raised them in, loved them unconditionally. These are the walls we painted, the toys we made for our son. I’m so sorry....I....what have I done?” Dracula walked over to her and took the sword out of her hands, pointing it’s sharp tip against his own chest and placing it back in her hands.

“Your greatest gifts to me, and I’m killing them.”

Alucard got up and stood next to his sister, placing his hands around hers. He wouldn’t let her do this alone.

“I must already be dead...”

Her heart pounded in her chest so hard she thought she was going to throw up. “I love you....” the girl managed to get out in a strangled cry, looking her father in the eyes. She could see it in his pleading eyes, silently begging them to put an end to his misery, to theirs and the world’s. In those quiet moments, he hoped she knew how much he truly loved her. How special she really was.

She shut her eyes tightly for a second as her and her brother drew her sword into her father’s chest. He groaned in pain, blood spilling out of his mouth as more coppery tears spilled out of his eyes.

She would forever be his little girl.

WOOOOH that was a long one! I told ya’ll I’d write some sad shit. Ok I’m gonna go cry myself to sleep now, like, comment and reblog!🥳🥳

#castlevania netflix #dracula castlevania #trevor belmont #castlevania trevor #castlevania sypha #castlevania season 2 #castlevania alucard #alucard tepes #sad angst #Dracula x daughter #lisa tepes #castlevania lisa #i’m gonna go cry now #Youtube

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heathenarmyimagines · 3 years

Text

Title: Find Us(Finale)

Summary: What will happen now that Ivar has accepted his past actions.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six,Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven

____________________________

Ivar physically felt like he had been hit with a wrecking ball. His head was throbbing, his legs could have been set on fire and he would be relieved if they burned to ashes. In his chest his heart was trying to beat its way out of him.

All that physical pain didn’t hold a candle to how his mind was screaming at him.

YOU’RE A FILTHY CRIPPLE! A MURDERER! YOU KILLED A CHILD, YOUR OWN BROTHER AND THOUSANDS MORE!

It was world shattering to behold his own actions.

‘How does it feel?’

‘Like shit.’ he replied.

There was an amused breath of laughter from the now younger looking viking.

‘I closed off the connection before it got to the end, I wanted to explain it first. That way you could decide if you wanted to see it.’

‘Why, is it worse than killing my own brother.’

‘That depends on you.’

He wasn’t sure if it was the way his doppelganger said it, or if it was the weird energy around those words that made him brace himself for a powerful blow.

‘When I was younger than you are now, I had lost my father. He left his family behind and we didn’t see him for years. Then he came back and I tagged along on his suicide mission, that was where it all started.’ the ghost started.

Ivar moved so that he could sit with his legs out in front of him to relieve the pain in his knees and noticed that he was sitting almost mirrored to his own ghost.

‘When what started?’

‘That was my second birth, when I realized that Ivar the Boneless was not just an insult my father chose to mark me with, but a name that could strike fear into the hearts of enemies. I suggested the Great Army and I won truly amazing battles, I felt like I could not lose.’

‘How did it go wrong?’ Ivar asked.

‘It started with my brothers, after I-’ the viking seemed to want to stop speaking but he visibly forced himself to keep going.

‘After I killed Sigurd things weren’t the same between my brothers and me, so I focused on my own ambitions. So much so that I began to push them away from me. In a few years we went from taking over England together to warring against each other.’

Ivar tried to imagine his brothers, his brothers he loved almost suddenly looking at him with malice, he thought of Sigurd not being there.

‘I’m not sure when I stopped sacrificing to the Gods, or when I started to put too much faith in my own importance but once I realized it it was too late. I was losing battle after battle, I couldn’t find supporters or men willing to fight beside me, all at once it seemed my Gods had abandoned me.’

‘Why would they? You-I was awful.’

‘I was, and I couldn’t swallow my pride and admit it.’

‘So why then? Why marry that Christian girl, Wilda. Why all of this? Why did you have to drag (Y/N) into this?’ Ivar snapped tiredly.

‘I didn’t want to, believe me boy, I never wanted another person to feel like I did. Live the way I did and hurt so much. When I consulted the Seer I accepted all my fault and was prepared for my damned after life, but then it wasn’t just me.’

‘Your family?’

‘My family. I had upset the Gods so much so that my entire family was cursed, even the family that wasn’t blood.’

‘Who else? How many of us are here because of your selfishness?’

‘My mentor Floki, his lovely wife Helga, my most loyal friends Herald Finehair and his brother Halfdan. Even Lagertha, that bitch first wife of my Father’s and her daughter...I can never remember her name.’

‘Her name was Gida.’ Ivar provided, shocked at just how truly self important he had once been in a past life.

The ghost looked mildly surprised and leaned forward a bit to look closer at his reincarnation

‘I never met my Gida, and I can’t imagine you met yours.’

‘No, she died too young but she was my sister just the same as Bjorn is my brother. It’s only right to love her, or at the very least respect her memory.’

The ghost smiled as he reclined once more.

‘You really are a better me than I ever could have been, and when the day comes for it I will be eager to hear your tales in Valhalla.’

Ivar blinked a few times to process this new bit of information.

‘Valhalla? I can’t go there I’m-I’m not a warrior, I’m not gonna die in a battle am I?’ he panicked picturing what manner of death would be required of him to enter the great hall.

‘Who knows? It doesn’t matter, you have already earned your seat there of course you may deny it. If you’d rather sing disgusting Christian songs in Heaven, so be it.’

Ivar had a million things to say and a billion questions to ask but one question was so important that it immediately overthrew everything in his world.

‘What will happen to (Y/N) now?’ he asked.

‘Nothing, no harm will befall her, she will be protected and blessed by the Gods as will her family for as long as she lives. They are being very generous with her, considering how much was required of her when she wasn’t one of their believers.’

‘Good she deserves it. She deserves more for even thinking about doing something like that after the way you treated her.’ Ivar said, gasping at the sound of his own words.

As soon as he had heard it a memory took hold of his mind.

There she was, same eyes, nose and mouth he had seen when he first met her, but different.

Younger.

She was small and skinny and looked exhausted, her dress was ragged and covered in small rag patches. Looking at her he would think her to be either an average twelve year old or a small fourteen year old.

She was mixing something in a small clay bowl, her hands shaking horrendously.

‘Hurry up, my wounds will already be infected by the time you get done at that pace!’ he shouted, making her jump at his loud voice.

‘I’m trying your majesty.’ she said quickly.

‘No you aren’t! I bet you can’t wait for me to die huh? Maybe you’d prefer to wait, watch this wound fester huh?’ he continued as he crawled toward her quickly.

She tried to scramble away but she wasn’t fast enough, he caught her ankle.

‘Maybe you’ll make it faster if you have your own wounds to heal Christian Girl.’

He felt a terrible cold on his leg and jerked to look down at what caused it; a hand, wrapped in an old brown leather fingerless glove.

‘I don’t think now is the time to go looking through all your new memories just yet.’ his ghost said as the hospital’s mens bathroom came back into focus.

Ivar shook as his whole body seemed to recover from a massive chill he had been too overwhelmed to notice.

‘You are right, I was cruel to her, even as a child. Imagine how insulted I was when my brother suggested she be the one I tied my fate to. Of course I had no arguments, the circumstances as they were I had no choice. I needed a woman that I’d hated and who hated me in turn and she had to be outside of my faith. She couldn’t be a Viking woman because she couldn’t know what the consequences would be if all went wrong.’

‘She had denied, when you asked, everytime you asked. You couldn’t force her, she had to be willing. She only went along when your brothers asked her and assured her their protection from you.’

Before his ghost could say anything there was a sound of running in the hallway outside the restroom.

‘We won’t have too much time left now, maybe the Gods will let me visit your dreams every few years.’

Ivar looked at the door in confusion but turned back to his ghost.

‘Before I go on, I want you to know that your feelings have nothing to do with me or Wilda. Your feelings are yours and yours alone. I also want to ask one last thing of you; tell Sigurd I’m sorry. Tell all of them I’m sorry.’

‘Where the hell is he?!’ it was Sigurd’s voice, Ivar could hear him running toward the bathroom.

Feeling a sudden need to hurry and ask one last question he looked to his ghost.

‘What do I do now?’

‘Live. Live better than me and never make my mistakes.’ was all he said as he smiled encouragingly.

‘Ivar! What the hell happened to you?!’ Sigurd gasped as he ran to Ivar’s side to help him up.

I took my meds on an empty stomach on top of over the counter ibuprofen.’ Ivar lied smoothly as he got back on his feet.

He glanced at the spot where his ghost had been but he was not surprised to see that he had vanished.

‘What the hell were you thinking? As if we weren’t worried enough about (Y/N) already.’

Normally Ivar would argue, he and Sigurd always found something to pick at each other about but he couldn’t imagine fighting with his brother right now.

Not after he had just seen himself kill him.

Before he could even think about it he was pulling Sigurd into a tight hug. Even when the older brother tensed up he refused to let go.

‘I love you Sigurd, never forget that? No matter what; I love you, and I’m sorry. You will never understand how sorry I am for the things I’ve done.’ Ivar said as he buried his face into his brother’s shoulder.

Almost nervously Sigurd returned the hug, giving Ivar’s back a few awkward pats.

‘I love you too, dumbass, and whatever you’re apologizing for is forgiven. However; as fun as this is, we need to clean you up fast.’

Ivar pulled back and was shocked to find that he needed to wipe away tears. He glanced at his reflection and winced at his own image.

His skin was pale and mouth and chin were covered in blood from his nosebleed.

‘Crap.’ he said as he grabbed some napkins to clean his face.

‘Why were you looking for me?’ he asked Sigurd.

‘(Y/N) woke up.’

‘What?’ Ivar said eagerly, nearly knocking Sigurd over in his haste to get to (Y/N)’s room.

‘Hold on you still like a horror movie disc cover!’ his brother yelled as he chased after him.

In the back of his mind he took into consideration his brother’s comment but he couldn’t care less about his appearance right now. He barely cared about anything but (Y/N) at this very moment; he didn’t care that the doctors would surely want to check over him once they saw his bloody face, he had to see her first.

He ran through the halls as fast as his metal legs would allow him to and when he finally saw the door he somehow ran faster towards it.

‘(Y/N)!’ Ivar cried as soon as he reached the doorway.

Everyone in the hospital room jumped, none of them expecting such a sudden and loud entry.

There was Helga on the right side of the bed who was checking her blood pressure and Halfdan was there on the left and appeared to be asking (Y/N) questions about how she was feeling.

When (Y/N)’s eyes met his they went wide and watery.

‘Ivar.’ she sobbed as she got out of the bed, ignoring Helga’s protest as she did so.

She threw her arms around him in a grip that was surprisingly tight, but Ivar returned it almost tenfold. He closed his eyes and tried to memorize everything about this moment. The way she fit into his arms perfectly, how she smelled and even the way her tears felt as they hit his shirt.

‘You did it.’ she said softly, her voice muffled as her face was pressed into his chest.

‘I had to, it was for you.’ he said, just as quietly as he pulled back to look at her.

Well he had intended to anyway; as soon as he pulled out of their hug (Y/N) had pulled him in, but not for another hug.

This time it was a kiss.

An honestly rather bad one if he was honest; it tasted like blood and tears and she was still partially sobbing. All that aside it felt so much better than any kiss he’d ever had in his life, it felt right.

‘Excuse me!’

The two of them were startled apart by Halfdan’s angry voice and turned to see the doctor was red in the face and looked ready to thrash the both of them.

Instantly he caught a glimpse as the doctor in his past life as a viking and for a second he was concerned he might actually have a sword in his doctor’s coat.

‘As lovely as it is to see young love, this is still a hospital and Miss (Y/L/N) needs to be examined at once to determine the cause of her being braindead less than an hour ago so if you could let me have my patient back please.’ the doctor almost seethed as a vein bulged on his forehead.

‘O-of course, my apologies.’ Ivar apologized as he reluctantly let go of (Y/N).

‘We’ll talk later.’ she said quietly before he turned to leave the room.

In the end neither of them knew that “later” would mean nearly a month.

Things were very hellish and chaotic once (Y/N) was awake; of course her family were ecstatic and they didn’t want to ever let her out of their sight again after nearly losing her. She had been surprised to find out that what she thought was no more than a dream during a sleep study ended up being three days of being braindead.

Ivar also had a bit of a time explaining to a doctor that his nose was bleeding because he mixed strong painkillers with over the counter ones that doubled as a blood thinner and could cause excessive bleeding.

They chewed him out professionally for a while, then they let his parents know and they did it a bit less professionally as his mother was a mess of tears as she scolded him for his recklessness. Ragnar had to escort her out of the hospital to gather herself but he also made sure to let Ivar know he was disappointed in his actions.

Of course Ivar felt like crap for worrying his family like this when they should all be celebrating (Y/N)’s recovery. Still; none of those feelings held a candle to his guilt for having cursed his family and friends.

After accepting his past life it was as if every moment he wasn’t actively fighting against them he was catching glimpses of his past life. He could see his family as Vikings; see his brothers staring at him with hate in their eyes, his mother’s familiar pitying eyes and his father looking at him with borderline disgust.

With the knowledge of his past crimes against them now fresh in his mind he was making it his mission to apologize to all of them, despite none of them knowing what he was apologizing to them for. He also swore off all selfishness and selfish actions.

He gave even more to charity, and was looking into strong activist organizations that he would volunteer for in the summer and also had plans to form his own once he was older.

Of course all of that meant a lot to him, but more importantly it all kept him busy.

All he wanted to do was be at (Y/N)’s side, he wanted to tell her what had happened in that hospital restroom and what he learned about the events that lead them here. Of course he couldn’t take away from her time with her family after such a tragic event, so he would just have to wait for things to calm down and for the two of them to have time alone to talk.

(Y/N)’s POV

Eventually after two weeks of being put through what to you felt like a million tests on everything from your brain to your blood the doctors simply had to accept that there was no explanation for your brain dead state. You would be going in for biweekly check ups just in case for about six months as a precaution, but you were finally allowed to leave the hospital.

Your family was happy to have you home again, your mother smothering you, your father absolutely spoiling you rotten, all six of your siblings were clinging onto their oldest sister and were eager to help wherever they could even if it ended in annoying arguments between all seven of you.

In the end your father had spent all the money he could afford while being financially sound, so he and his wife and kids had to return home so he could continue working. Two weeks after their departure your mother had used the last of her vacation days and she too had to return to her job.

At last you were given the green light to go back to school.

You never thought you would be happy to be waking up at seven in the morning and practically skipped to school.

Obviously you weren’t actually excited about class but you were aching to see Ivar, all you had been thinking about in your few moments of peace was him.

Ivar Ragnarson, Ivar the Boneless...your Ivar.

The one who you had kissed.

You still couldn’t believe you had the nerve to do that, and you were nervous about seeing how he felt about that. However your nervousness took the back burner to how badly you needed to talk to him.

He needed to know about your talk with Wilda, which of course you had told no one about when answering all the doctors’ questions. This information was only for you and Ivar, you wouldn’t think of talking about it with anyone else.

At school you were happy to find no one had been told of the cause of your absence, so there was no awkward moment when you arrived.

Everything was normal, until you got to your locker.

‘(Y/N)!’ all five Ragnarson sons cheered as you approached.

Sigurd, Hvitserk, Ubbe, Ivar and even Bjorn had been waiting for you.

‘Hey!’ you smiled brightly as you walked over to them.

‘Nice to finally meet you formally. I’m Bjorn Ragnarson, hopefully I’ll be teaching you Chemistry two next year.’ the eldest introduced himself formally at last.

your feelings for Ivar aside, Bjorn still remained a very, VERY attractive teacher and just him acknowledging your existence made your face a bit red.

‘Hopefully.’ you blushed.

‘Stop it.’ Ivar said as he thumped your forehead.

‘Ow.’ you pouted, looking fully at Ivar for the first time.

If you thought you were red before now you were practically steaming like a teapot.

‘I didn’t do anything.’ you mumbled as you quickly looked away.

‘You thought it.’ he said.

‘Thought what?’ Bjorn asked in confusion.

‘Nothing.’ Ivar snapped.

‘Calm down. Jealousy is an ugly color on you Ivy.’ Hvitserk teased.

‘Besides, it's only gonna get worse, cause we are all gonna hug our friend now.’ Ubbe said as he pulled you into a hug.

The hug soon devolved into an ungodly barely standing dog pile of limbs as every brother threw their arms around you as Ivar tried to pull them off of her.

‘Alright, fall back before you put her back in a hospital bed.’ Ivar complained.

At last you were freed from the forest of limbs as they backed away.

‘Never make us worry like that again. It’s already giving me wrinkles and I’m gonna need to put a lot of extra care into my skin to recover.’ Hvitserk said dramatically.

‘My apologies for my crimes.’ you bowed in turn.

‘Apologize at your party, this Friday. I’ll text you the details later.’ Ubbe said.

‘Party?’

‘It’s not a party; just us, our family, your family, a few of the nurses from the hospital and the Finehairs gathering in a venue to celebrate your active brainwaves. Also my band may make a quick appearance if you’re into that sort of thing.’ Sigurd said, rushing out the last part quickly.

‘That sounds like a party.’ you replied.

‘A family friendly gathering and everything is already planned, I just need your say so for everyone to let my band play the event for our music video.’ Sigurd confessed.

‘Keep me off camera and it’s deal Snake.’ you agreed.

‘Yay.’ Ivar, Ubbe and Hvitserk said dully.

‘Be nice, I love your music Sigurd. Now all of you off to class; bell’s gonna ring soon.’ Bjorn instructed before bidding all the students farewell and making his way to his own classroom.

The upperclassmen left, still speaking of the party plans leaving you and Ivar alone at last.

‘So…’ you said as you realized the hallway crowd was thinning out.

‘So.’ Ivar repeated as he also stood still, waiting for the hallway to empty completely before he spoke.

‘I have a lot to tell you.’ you both said at the same time.

‘Ladies first.’ Ivar insisted.

‘I wasn’t brain dead. I mean that’s what the doctors say I was, but to me it was just like a dream; one of my Viking dreams. But this was different, The Seer, the one with no eyes, he wasn’t there, and neither were you. This time it was Wilda; it was me and she was older and Ivar, she spoke to me.’

‘She spoke to you?’ Ivar asked.

‘Yes, directly to me just like I’m talking to you; no riddles or puzzles, just clear talk. She told me what happened, or what she understood at least. Ivar we weren’t the first reincarnations, there were so many others, some never even met, the incomplete connection drove them mad. The ones that did could never get it right, they rejected their truths and it cost them their lives.’ you said.

Ivar leaned against the lockers as he processed the information.

‘There were others.’ he said, closing his eyes.

‘I remember them too now.’

‘What?’ you gasped.

‘I met him; Ivar the Boneless, the night I took you in for the study. Just popped into existence in the waiting room. He tried to speak with me, to make me see myself in him and I refused.’ he answered.

‘Then what happened?’ you asked.

‘The doctor told me you were brain dead, and I knew it was my fault.’

‘It wasn’t.’ you tried to console him as you stood beside him and leaned against the locker as well.

‘It was, and you know it too. You could have died. Hell, you already have several times and each time it had been my fault. Because I am selfish. I know that now and it caused so much pain for so many innocent people and as bad as I feel for those people I feel the worse for doing it to you.’

You looked up and saw tears on Ivar’s red cheeks, instinctively you took hold of his hand and interlocked your fingers.

‘I remember it all, everything. I remember Wilda and I was cruel to her, I hurt her and I remember the other lives and how many times I chose to let you die for my selfishness.’ he finished, wiping his eyes with his free hand.

You released his hand and took hold of his face with both hands now, making him keep eye contact with you.

‘Listen to me, and I need you to believe what I am saying because I mean it. I, (Y/N), reincarnation of Wilda the Saxxon woman, forgive you Ivar, reincarnation of Ivar the Boneless. I forgive all your deeds against me.’

‘I can’t take your guilt, and you can’t forget or change your past; but I can forgive you and thank you for saving my current life, and you can make your own future and earn your own forgiveness.’ you said firmly.

Bright blue eyes filled with tears as they looked directly into your own teary (Y/E/C) ones and again let your body lead itself to where it wanted to be, into his arms.

His body seemed to be doing the same as his hands went readily around your waist to keep you close to him.

‘You can forgive me?’ he asked, placing his forehead against yours.

‘I was never angry with you, but I will forgive you everyday forever if you want me to.’

‘Forever is a long time, think a friendship can last that long?’

‘It could...but not ours, that friendship is over for me.’ you smiled.

‘Really?’ Ivar grinned down at you happily.

‘Yeah.’

This time Ivar pulled you into the kiss; this time it was perfect, it was a new beginning for you and Ivar.

More than that it was an ending; an ending to a story that began with a Selfish Cripple and a Christian Girl.

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rose-wild · 3 years

Text

heroes of olympus ranked by the saddest/worst childhoods:

(my opinion. you don’t have to agree, that’s okay).

1. HAZEL - i think this is self explanatory. black girl in southern america in the 30s, bullied badly. then watched her mother get possessed by the earth mother, father didn’t care, forced to move on her thirteenth birthday to alaska. was repeatedly told she was a bad, sick child. then was forced to do unspeakable things by marie/gaea, used her powers to make a body for a giant, then had no other choice but to kill herself and her mother to stop gaea from rising. THEN gave up elysium so her mother wouldn’t get the field of punishment. in the Son of Neptune, during one of her backstories, Hazel says, “Hazel felt as if she were expanding to the breaking point, just like that spire in the pit. Her misery would soon become to great to hold inside, and her skin would shatter.” excuse me while i go and sob 😭

2. Reyna - girl her backstory is so fucking sad. watched her dad become insane and paranoid. her dad collected weapons and turned their house into a fortress, and locked her in her room, and when she and her sister would sneak out and get caught, he would throw furniture and yell at them. then he becomes convinced that reyna and hylla are the enemy. ghosts of her ancestors would watch reyna from afar (creepy af). then julian becomes a mania and after they snuck out one day, reyna was TEN, julian got so angry he started glowing, ripping up their house and threw a chair at hylla. reyna then thought her sister was dead as it knocked her unconscious, then had no choice but to kill her own father. a ghost appeared before her and taunted her, telling her she would never flee her crime and never forget her past, calling her a murderer and traitor. then she went to circe’s island and that got destroyed by yours truly percy jackson and annabeth chase, then she was kidnapped by the pirates (who did gods knows what to her) for months and then managed to escape. then she and her sister parted ways after all those years together where they had no one but each other. okay, maybe reyna should be number one.

3. Nico - lots of people would think he needs to be 1, but i don’t think so, and i’m talking about backstories only. he saw his mother walk into a hotel and then watched it explode after it got struck by lightning. then he got his memory wiped and then they were left with a bank trust and a lawyer would come in to check them every once in a while. oh, and then he got stuck in the lotus hotel for seventy years, which they only thought was a month. then westover hall. then bianca dies. yeah.

4. Jason - ugh this boy. his mother left him at the wolf house and told him that she’d be back, but never was. so jason, a little two year old boy, was left crying in the ruins and yelling for his mom and thalia. he was then taken in by wolves (can you imagine how scary that must’ve been for a little boy?) and was raised and trained like a roman soldier. there was no weakness. he wasn’t allowed to, or else he would be eaten alive. yeah. then he made it to camp jupiter and was offered first cohort for being a son of jupiter but denied it. he befriended the least popular kids and went on the least glamorous quests, but was still considered a prince and had everyone’s eyes on him from such a young age. he spent twelve years in the legion and was always the leader. then he led the assault on mount othrys and defeated the titan krios with hand to hand combat, and toppled kronos’s throne. this isn’t tragic, but what is tragic is that he and the legion never got a thanks from the gods.

5. Leo - his fucking nanny tia callida laid him in an actual fire pit and sang him lullabies like some sort of psychopath. and tia callida gave him knives when he was three. she told him to poke a rattlesnake in the grass with a stick (oh that’s super smart for a four year old boy to do). his cousin raphael bullied him. his aunt rosa made him eat with dead people. then, when trying to hurt gaea, she made him angry and made his hands catch on fire. leo fell into a rage and tried to save himself and his mother, but accidentally killed his mother and burned her alive. and then his aunt rosa turned his entire family against him (called him the devil) and told the social care workers to take him away and stuffed him into foster care. he was bullied badly and would run away from his foster care homes and, when he was in between foster homes, would sleep under an actual bridge.

6. Annabeth - since she was a demigod, annabeth was a target for monsters which caused constant fighting between her dad and her stepmother who felt like she was putting everyone (as in her two twin stepsiblings) in danger. she was assaulted by spiders, her worst fear, for three days each night as a seven year old girl. she would scream for her father but he was never there and her stepmother didn’t believe her. as a seven year old girl, she believed her family hates her, so she ran away and smashed monsters with a hammer with the guidance of her immortal mother for MONTHS. then she was taken in by luke and thalia and they became her family. then they found grover and were chased by monsters sent from hades, who was looking to kill thalia for revenge. grover took wrong turns and led them into a cyclops lair on accident. then the cyclops lured everyone except annabeth, who stabbed one of the cyclops in the foot. the group was chased by a pack of hellhounds and all three furies on their way to half-blood hill. she was forced to watch thalia be overran by monsters and killed and dragged away by luke. she heard the great prophecy when she was ten and had nightmares about it because chiron told her she “would have a big part to play”, and that brings us to tlt. damn.

7. Percy - strangled a snake at a day care center when he was two (this is pretty traumatic). was bullied and abused by his stepfather from a very young age and had to watch his mother be in an awful relationship. was bullied badly by other people. he was in military academies where they believed “paddling is good for the soul.” he was stalked by a cyclops in the third grade.

8. Frank - his mother died in a military accident and was then raised by his grandmother. he was then told, at his mother’s funeral, that his whole entire life depends on this little piece of fire wood that if burned, he would literally fall over dead. then, that same evening, he was told he was going to be shipped off to wolves and then to camp jupiter (if he survived its trials ofc).

9. Piper - she fell off a horse when she was six and drove past a meat processing place that made her sick 😭 (this is a joke). but for real, her rich super star dad avoided her and didn’t pay any attention to her, which caused her to act out. she was bullied for being cherokee. and then she finds out months of her life was just a trick of the mist and that her boyfriend doesn’t actually like her at all? sad man.

#heroesofolympus #reynaavilaramirezarellano #jasongrace #percyjackson #nicodiangelo #percyjacksonandtheolympians #annabethchase #the seven demigods #hazel levesque #piper mclean

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dream-a-little-bigger-darling000 · 3 years

Text

You'll Fit So Nicely You'll Keep Me Intact

Author's Note: Hello Hello! Not my GIF, please don't think it is, but it is my fic! I asked a few days ago if I should do Bane or touch-starved Tommy, and it was pretty clear I should do my sweet summer child Tommy boy. I just really think this big tough fighter needs to take a break and be held every once in awhile. And you can't tell me this man wouldn't have the sweetest moans. Fight me on it you can't. Please Please PLEASE reblog, like, or comment on this if you liked it. I live my day to day life craving validation.

If you absolutely hated it, also let me know! I admit I'm not the best at writing, and I'm willing to learn so I can feed my Tommy Conlon addiction. Ok, that's all, be fed!

2400+ words?! C'mon, that's gotta be enough to make you proud.

The whole fiasco was genuinely an accident.

The two of you, in his small cramped apartment, helping each other make dinner, because you couldn't remember whose turn it was, walking around each other like you had been doing it for years, because you had been.

You had been by Tommy for as long as you can remember, through those years where puberty slammed in the door and decked you directly in the throat (and other places), through the time where his family had slowly fallen apart, and into the years where he had joined the US Marine Corps.

Those years had been hell. At least when he moved away you were still able to text him annoying day-to-day updates and talk in the quiet nights when no one was awake to hear you admit how much you missed each other. But when he joined the Marines, you heard even less from your Tommy, and the ache you felt for him only grew.

When he came back, he had came back for good, immediately seeking you out with the promise of your old relationship back. And things went back to normal, slotted into place perfectly.

Except the insane amount of pining that you went through every waking hour you saw his stupidly attractive face.

But you weren't going to think about that. There was spaghetti to be made.

"Those are done." Tommy nodded his head to the noodles as he made the salad. You sneered to yourself, still pissed that he got the easy part.

"No, they're not, look, that one's still hard-"

"That's what she said."

"It's still undercooked you jerk. Can you please let me cook in peace? You're over there, doing the bare minimum, you ass."

"Hey, if this isn't tossed right, the whole thing is ruined. And those noodles are definitely done. We can get them in the sauce before the garlic bread is done so it'll cool down a bit. Look." All the sudden Tommy was crowded up behind you. Your breath did something funny. Probably the steam from the boiling water. Because, you know, it's so hard to breathe around.

Tommy took the spoon you were using to stir and managed to scoop up a single noodle. He then carefully picked it up and threw it on the cabinet. It stuck, but looked like it would fall via a strong sneeze.

"See? Done." You looked behind you to stare up at the infuriating man. He smiled and tilted his head. You had the sudden urge to hit him. With your mouth. Damn it.

He turned around, not giving you a chance to argue with him. That was his first mistake. As a MMA fighter, the idiot should know never to turn your back on the enemy.

You scooped up another noodle with your spoon. You waited until he was truly busy with cutting the tomatoes up for the salad.

You aimed for his head. It wrapped around the back of his neck with a soft splat. He startled for a moment, and then set the knife down and stared forward, still not turning around to look at you.

"You know what, now it's done. Now it's stickin'." You were struggling to hold it together, desperately trying not to laugh as you turned off the stovetop and set the pan aside.

You felt strong arms envelop you from behind, and you let out a loud laugh as you felt your feet leave the floor. Tommy, spinning you around before setting you on the counter. You've really put yourself it a bad position.

Well, if you're being honest, probably the best damn position you've ever been in.

Except that the bastard started tickling you. More laughter spilled out of you, uncontrollable at this point.

"Tommy!" You were out of breath from the constant attack. What happened to never turn your back on the enemy? "Tommy, what are we in-" More laughter as his joined yours. You two were so close you could feel his shoulder dip every time he rumbled a laugh. "what are we in 6th grade now- Tommy!"

You could feel his laughter huff by your ear, and you knew you had to resort to dirty tactics. If he wanted to play by middle school standards, then you had no choice but to stoop down to his level.

Tommy was very distracted trying to murder you by laughter alone, and he looked like he was having the time of his life. He never even realized your hands were so close to his head. He was in the middle of another fit of giggles when he felt your nimble hands glide through his hair. He had half a second to understand what you were planning, and he was just about to pull away, to get as far from you as possible before-

You gave a solid pull to his hair. You felt satisfaction shoot through your body as his laugh choked off, his body going rigid underneath your fingers. His breath stuttered and his hands instantly fell from your sides to grasp the edge of the counter.

You didn't quite understand what was going on at first, the only thing on your mind being that you'd won the battle. You couldn't help the smug smile from sliding across your expression, or the snarky little giggle that bubbled it's way out.

"What's wrong, Tommy? Did someone school you at your own game, hmm? Maybe next time you'll think before you-"

"Could you please let go?" Tommy sound winded, like he'd just fought a few rounds with someone much bigger than him. It made you pause, and then frown.

Your fingers loosened from his hair, but you didn't lower your arm just yet. You couldn't fathom why Tommy was acting this way, when he instigated the rough-housing. And you knew for damn sure you hadn't hurt him. You had seen the idiot stub his toe on his coffee table before, and the only reaction out of the fighter was a pause, a look up to the ceiling, and one long, drawn out sigh.

So even though he sounded like he was trying to fight for his life, you know it absolutely wasn't because you had hurt him in anyway. Tommy could break you five times over.

You looked down at his hands. Not only was he grasping the edge of the counter top, but his knuckles were white, like he was anchoring himself. You glanced to his face. His eyes were squeezed shut, his lips pressed tightly together, and his eyebrows were furrowed in deep concentration. Was he- was that a blush? His body was still pulled tight.

Experimentally, you lightly scraped your nails along his scalp.

If Tommy were to ever hear you call the sound that came from him a whimper, he'd probably swiftly and effectively dispose of your body. But it was a fucking whimper.

His eyes snapped open wide and met yours. You saw his utter mortification. You would say you felt guilty, but having your long time crush whimper while slotted between your thighs as you sat a top a kitchen counter really did things for you.

You mentally reprimanded yourself for letting your mind fall into the gutter as your friend so obviously had a small break down.

Before you could get a word out, to try talk him down from whatever thoughts were swirling in that pretty head of his, Tommy was out of kitchen. Ah, so he's chosen drama today? Coming from a man who would rather fight his own brother than talk, you can't really find it in yourself to be surprised.

"Tom." You dropped down from the counter, heading toward the living room, which was the only way he could've gone. As you rounded the corner, you saw him pacing the length of the room, his hands interlaced behind his head, elbows out, eyes wild.

"Tommy." You smoothed out your voice, pictured yourself trying to calm down a particularly flighty horse. You know, if the horse were the love of your life and you were desperately trying to make things less weird between you two before the already delicate friendship collapsed.

At your gentle prod he stopped. He let his hands fall down to his sides. He huffed once. Crossed his arms, made a face, and then dropped them. His fists curled up into balls and he closed his eyes. He opened one and looked toward you.

"You didn't hear that."

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your own arms to your chest.

He pointed to the kitchen. "That didn't happen."

Because you love your best friend very much, you didn't roll your eyes.

"Tommy. Calm down. Take a deep breath." He did not take a deep breath. You did for him. Then another one for you. You moved toward the couch, and the way he suddenly looked like he was about to sprint out the door didn't escape you. You held your hands up placatingly. Easy, boy.

You sat down, leaving enough room for him to sit beside you. He looked at you wearily. You gave him a pointed look, one that said this is something to be discussed, and there's no way you're getting out of it, and gently patted the space for him.

He looked like he'd rather do anything else. He eventually made his way to the spot and plunked down, but as close to the arm of the couch as possible.

You gave him a sweet smile. He looked away, but not before you caught the blush. You decided to let him speak first.

It was quiet for awhile. Your thoughts went to the noodles still sitting on the counter, probably cooling in the water making a film. He cleared his throat.

"I don't. Not a ton of people touch me." He stared dutifully in front of him. You stayed silent, afraid of scaring him into silence again. He shifted uncomfortably, letting out a growl of frustration. "I mean people touch me. I just meant. It's not. It's," He looked like each word was slowly strangling him, "Never that intimate. I guess. And never anyone like you."

You're eyebrows shot up. His head jerked toward you.

"Not like that, I mean like someone so pretty." You choked a little. He visibly flinched. "Ok. I think that's enough for tonight. I think I've made plenty an ass of myself for one God forsaken night." He made to move, but your hand covered his before you really thought about it. He immediately stopped, staring at your hand on top of his.

"Tommy, it's ok." He gave you a dubious look. "No, really. Lots of people don't know how to deal with touch when it's not normal for them-"

"I'm fine, I touch people all the time, it doesn't matter it's ridiculous-"

"Tommy." He stopped. You lifted both hands to slowly cradle his face. His eyes were panicky. He looked like he was fighting every instinct inside him. "Listen to me, love." His eyes widened. "You don't have to explain anything. I need you to know it's ok to freak out a little. It's ok for this to be new." You bit your lip. "It's ok if it feels good."

A small sound came from the fighter. His eyes slipped closed. It suddenly hit you. You sucked in a sharp breath, and you started to gently stroking his face to his neck.

"Oh Tommy. You spend all that time fighting in the ring, so much time dominating. You barely let anyone touch you before you knock them away." His dad was probably never there to offer him any type of physical love, and his mom was too distanced from anyone to truly give what Tommy craved. By that time, he had pushed his brother away, and you had never really noticed him to be very active in the dating area.

You could feel his control slipping, could feel him slowly letting you hold his head up while he explored the sensation of someone just feeling him. When he spoke, his speech was slightly slurred.

"Was always jus' scared."

"I know Tommy."

"Didn' want you t' leave."

"And why would I do something stupid like that."

There was a second of silence, but Tommy was too far in to go back now.

"Cuz' I only wanted you to touch. Only ever you." Your heart stopped. His eyes slowly opened, meeting yours. His gaze snapped to your lips, back up to your eyes. All it took was for your eyes to snap to his lush mouth, and he was surging to meet you.

You felt like you were melting, melding into him. His lips were sliding against yours, his hands suddenly huge, thumbs cupping your face while his hands rested on the sides of your neck. He kissed like you see him fight. The urgency and the power and the emotion. You ached all over.

You could hardly remember your name when you finally separated, heaving lungfuls of air. Maybe all that oxygen deprivation had really done something to your brain, because you might be having a stroke. It almost smelled like something was burning. Tommy's face did something funny and he sniffed the air.

Oh. OH. The garlic bread.

Both of you made a mad dash for the kitchen, Tommy arriving first and throwing the oven door open, grabbing whatever cloth he could find to take out the charred bread as you used a dishrag to flap away any smoke that spilled out.

Once he made sure his apartment wasn't going to burn down or that the ambulance wan't going to be making a surprise visit, he slumped against the counter, breathing heavily. You put your hands on your hips.

A few second went by, both of you trying to catch your breath. Tommy looked up at you. You met his eye.

You both melted into peeling laughter, trying to stay upright. It seemed like every time you two would get your shit together, you'd fall right back into cackles.

He finally reigned in the worst of the laughter, and slowly made his way to where you were standing. Your own laughs died down.

"Are we good?" you ask him gently. He nods his head, with his sweet smile.

"We're good" he replies gently. He gets this determined look on his face, and steps real close to you. He doesn't do anything else for awhile, instead looking to you, asking with questioning eyes.

You give him an encouraging smile. He smiles right back at you, and for the second time tonight, strong arms envelop you.

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rexx-lapis · 3 years

Text

Sensei // Gojo Satoru x Reader

-> Satoru and you haven’t seen each other since you graduated from the academy. But somehow he never really left your mind. What happens now that you are a strong and confident exorcist and that your sensei finally notice you ?

Tags: Takes place during the school tournament but is canon divergent, Smut, age gap but the reader is in their early 20s, gender neutral reader and use of the pronouns they/them, voyeurism, sex without protection, Use of the word slut, SENSEI KINK, mention of fight, murder and injuries, the reader wears an eyepatch cause it’s cool, Gojo POV, mutual pinning.

Satoru liked his life as it was. His job as a teacher was great, not too complicated and allowed him to stay close to the higher ups. In the end, it was not too demanding and in the exception of watching over Itadori just to make Sukuna wasn’t wilding out, it was pretty chill. He liked that. Since his graduation he had chose to live his life without worrying too much. There was not a lot of things that could hurt him, he knew how powerful he was, so all he had to worry about was literally insignificant. He was just being his real playful self, most people deemed him childish, and he kinda was. In the end everyone kept in their mind that he was the most powerful sorcerer out there. It wasn’t ego, he was just being self aware. Even in more trivial thing, nature had made it easy for him. Women were often falling into his arms without him doing anything. His easy going personality was just a bonus. He was just having fun, not wanting to engage in any type of serious relationship that was obviously not compatible with his lifestyle. He wasn’t an idiot, having a significant other meant exposing himself to pain and offering to his enemies a way of pressure. It was already difficult enough with his students, he was not sure he’ll be able to protect someone else at all time. And there was no way he would let go of his job. In the end even for his good looks, not a lot of people would be willing to risk their life. Or maybe it was just the fact that he had the reputation of being a player and that no one was willing to be used. This morning he woke up tired, the night before he has been forced to go on a special mission before the beginning of the tournament between Tokyo’s college and Kyoto’s one. The students were all here now, and ready to begin. Several teacher were sitting in front of the screens that would allow them to follow the different students. He recognized everyone, even the old Yoshinobu Gakuganji, that he preferred to see in the same room. He didn’t trust the old men and he already knew he was up to something. He settled down looking around him waiting for the beginning of the first trial.Until he saw you. You were entering the room, looking in front of you. Your face was familiar but he couldn’t really tell where he knew you from. You were wearing a black uniform characteristic of the jujutsu sorcerer. You stoped in front of Iori, greeting her. The woman seemed to know you as she simply smiled and offered you a sit next to her. You looked around, your eyes falling on him, and you simply nodded your head in his direction.

“Hello Gojo sensei”

This voice. Yeah he definitely knew you.

“ Well hello -

-Y/n Y/l/n”

Yeah he remembered you now. You went to Tokyo’s academy, but you were a few years younger than him. He had already graduated a few years before and was starting to be a teacher when you integrated the school. You were so young back then, sixteen maybe, now you looked so mature. Beautiful truly. Even with the eye patch hiding your left eye, he could see how beautiful you were. He simply smiled, nodding.

“Long time no see Y/n.

- Indeed”

You did not say anything else simply sitting down, Iori was looking angry, and started grumbling at you, probably asking where you knew him from. You simply looked at her, not having the time to say anything as the screens light up. Satoru did not realized right away, but turning around he saw the old Gakuganji looking at you, a dark look in his eyes. You did not even look in his direction. Something was up between you two for sure. The trials began and soon Satoru realized something was wrong. That old sneaky bastard had definitely ask his student to kill Itadori. He sighed, frustrated but not surprised. You on the other hand seemed way more bothered by the idea.

“ Why does it feel like a set up to me?”

Iori tensed next to you but no one answered. You didn’t say anything else. Satoru couldn’t help but wonder why you came here. Indeed the tournament was an interesting thing to watch but you were not a teacher, or at least not that he knew of. What were you doing here, sweet, innocent y/n. You couldn’t possibly be one of the guard dog of the higher ups.

“Megumi is for sure very impressive.

-You know him? asked Iori

-I worked with his dad once. They don’t seem to have much in common at first but...

-You know Toji Fushiguro ?”asked Gojo suddenly sitting up straight on his chair

“I met him once, I wish I did not tho

-He tends to do this to people”

Your conversation was cut off by a noise and a flash of smoke. The red parchment that were stuck on the wall had caught on fire.

“What’s happening?

-The trials are already over?

-No, something is wrong.

-Apparently, some curses came uninvited”

You stood up, visibly not phased by this. What were you hiding?

“ We should go, at least rescue the students. If the curses are too powerful they won’t stand a chance.”

They split in several groups, and they started to run, hopefully joining their students before it was too late. Sadly nothing happened like Satoru imagined. First, a sort of black veiled recovered the place of the tournament. The more frustrating was that everyone seemed to be able to cross it except for him. Satoru find himself stuck outside unable to do anything. Behind his smile, he was worried. Was he really going to send Iori and the old man in this situation alone. And you. What about you. You did not seemed phased one bit by the situation, but he couldn’t help but wonder if you were not going to be more of a burden. After all you still were young. But he couldn’t tell you to stay back, and if you were here it was because you were qualified to do your job. The three of you disappeared behind the veil. It wasn’t often he felt helpless but right now he definitely did. After several minutes later he saw Panda come from behind the veil, Megumi in one arm, and Maki in the other. They were both severely injured but their life was not threatened now that they were being taken care of. Soon after Nishimiya carrying Noriyoshi and Inumaki flied through the veil, almost crashing on the ground. Being the only one still conscious, Nishimiya told him how she saw Itadori and Todo fighting a grade s curse when she was flying away. The more Satoru was thinking about it the more it sounded fishy. But he didn’t even had the time to thing this through before the veil disappeared. The old man was standing there with what seemed to be the corpse of man.

“They ran to see if they could find the two other brats. Go and see how they are doing.”

Satoru didn’t even wait for him to finish his sentence and started running. He felt a burst of cursed energy and decided he should check it out. He arrived to see Itadori and Todo hurt, Iori trying to help them stand up.

“Where is the curse ?”

Iori gasped, face suddenly tensed. She looked scared. She simply pointed at the empty air. It has been dealt with apparently. But you weren’t here.

“Where is Y/n?

-They left. They ran in this direction.

-Everyone is already out” he threw his phone at her, “call the old man or one of your student so they can help you with those two.”

He had to find you. He took him a couple of minutes to catch up on you, you had not got that far. You seemed completely normal, not even a micro injury. The only thing was that your right sleeve had been torned exposing your arm. You turned around facing him. You did not say anything just walking toward him. There was no trace of another curse. He was going to ask you what happened when you lifted your arm silencing him. Your phone buzzed in you pocket.

“Hello sir.”

He could not hear what was being said on the other side. But he could easily guessed it was one of your superior.

“The curse has been eliminated. It was a grade s. The students are safe, and the ones that are injured will be okay. Very well.”

You marked a pause, your eyes darting on his face, wondering if you could keep talking even though he was still here. He had no intention of going anywhere though.

“ Yes, Mahito escaped...”

You expression hardened.

“ I know... next time...”

You simply hanged up, finally turning to face Satoru.

“We can go, there’s nothing left here. They’re gone.”

He simply nodded.

“ I knew it was weird. Why would you even bother to come all this way to witness the tournament. I mean, it can be quite enjoyable but, you seem rather occupied.”

You didn’t say anything. You changed so much, what happened to joyful, cute Y/n, he wondered.

“ You were using the tournament as a way to attract Mahito ?

-No. I just knew he was gonna be here eventually.

-Why are you looking for him.

-Who isn’t looking for him at this point.

-Hmm, no, I feel like it’s personal.”

You clenched your jaw.

“He killed my team mates. Three months ago.”

Oh, that explained the dark energy coming out of you.

“So it is personal.

-You could say that”

You didn’t say a word, the weight of what you saw like a failure heavy on your shoulders. Satoru knew that better than anyone. The tournament was canceled and rescheduled. And weirdly enough, you did not left the academy at the same time as the Kyoto staff. You said your farewell to Iori and the students, returning later to your now assigned room. Satoru knew that if you were still here, it was because you had been assigned a new mission.

“You are still tagging along?”

You turned around, stopping your writing almost instantly. You might have been distracted because you did not hear him come in.

“Entering a someone’s room without authorization, sensei, it’s not reasonable.”

He couldn’t tell if you were serious or not. He couldn’t help if your room was next to his. He was curious.

“You are still calling me sensei? I am not your sensei anymore though.

-Officially no, but I am still learning while being here. But I can call you by your name if you prefer”

He actually liked when you called him sensei. He didn’t answer but you caught up pretty quick.

“Let’s stick with sensei then.”

He looked at you over his glasses, scanning your body. You weren’t wearing your uniform but a simple casual outfit. You looked cute. Your face scrunched in an adorable expression as you were concentrating on what you were writing.

“ What are you writing? A love letter to your boyfriend?”

He could almost hear you sight. He smiled, getting comfortable on your bed.

“ I am writing a report.

-About what?

-What happened during the tournament.

-Mahito?

-You could say that.

-Y/n. Could you do something for me?

-Depends.

-If you could not mention in your report what happened between the Kyoto college and Itadori, it would really be nice.

-I don’t understand why you would not want the higher ups to not know that people of our organization are trying to kill a sixteen year old.

-It’s because you are still naive Y/n”

You turned around, visibly angry.

“I am not stupid. I know what they would do to Itadori if they could. I didn’t mentioned the incident in my report.”

He smiled, getting up, getting closer to you.

“ Good” he almost whispered in your ear. He could see your face heat up, but you stayed calm.

“Are you done? Or do you doubt me so much, you want to read my report too.

-I think about you a lot, but not once I’ve doubt you. I don’t know what you did to that curse in front of Itadori but he won’t even talk to me about it”

You smirked.

“Good.”

Satoru’s head was just full of you now. He just couldn’t help it. You were basically living together at this point. Even if he was busy training the first year and mostly Itadori, he was still seeing you from the corner of his eyes. You seemed interested in Itadori’s training, maybe secretly hoping for Sukuna to manifest. You did not seem to care though. You weren’t avoiding him, but you paid him no mind. He saw you multiple times laughing with Itadori, Nobara or Megumi. He even saw you leave with Nanami one evening. You came back late at night, drunk.

“Do you even have the required age to drink?”he asked a disapproving tone in his voice.

“Yes I do... How old do you think I am....

-You’re younger than Nanami, so what were you even doing outside with him”

You pouted, your arm crossing over your chest. Fuck, you were so cute. And you looked so pretty like this. Your hair were kinda messy, your visible eye gleaming. Your lips, fuck, it was kinda hard not to stare at them. Maybe he should be the one going outside, he seemed to need it.

“He just took me out to drink nothing else. And you shouldn’t even talk. That so hypocritical.

-What have I done ?

-You slept with at least three of my friend from graduation”

Ah.

“So I don’t want to here anything else from you”

You sounded kinda angry now. But he couldn’t take you seriously right now. Not when you looked like a angry little kitten.

“I’m going to sleep”

He watched you go, your steps uncertain.

“Y/n, love, your room is the other way.”

You stoped in your track, looking at him, lost.

“I know. I was just playing”

Yes, so cute. He chuckled, deciding to escort you to your room just to make sure.

“Is this because of your friends that you are avoiding me love.

-Yes.

-Why? I didn’t do anything wrong to them? Did I?

-No, but I don’t want to end up sleeping with you”

Ouch, okay.

“After, you’re gonna break my heart and ghost me. No way.”

You arrived in front of your room.

“I would never do that to you love, so, would you go out with me?

-No

-You’re just being a brat right now”

You laughed at him before opening your door.

“Good night Gojo Sensei”

This night signed the beginning of a real nightmare for him. You did not mentioned anything from this night to him after it happened. But fuck he wanted you so much. He felt bad about it, you being so young, he felt like he was going to corrupt you or something. He did not felt like this with any of your friend or his previous one night stands. So why with you? Maybe because he knew you since you were young. You weren’t especially close, you were often with people your age and he was on his side with the other teachers. But now you were an adult, and for what seemed a very strong sorcerer. Sometimes, he was wondering what was happening in his head, when he was taking decisions. Like when he chose to invite a girl over, while you where here, when all he could think about was you. He was doing this to provoke you, or maybe he was just dumb. Fucking her against the wall that was just next to yours was maybe a bit too much, but he still did it somehow. He was sick for this. You on the other side, you wanted to cry and throw yourself through the window. Fuck you could even hear him groan behind all the sound the girl was doing. How thin were those walls? You grabbed your earphones, trying to cancel the noises, but your mind was still full of Satoru. For years you had promise yourself that you won’t be like every other person that had met him. You would never fall in love with him, or want to sleep with him. So why was your heart aching because he was currently fucking someone else. And why you could feel arousal pooling in your belly, your thighs rubbing against one another. You would never do that. Touch yourself. Like this. No. You were better than that.

“Ah fuck...” you heard him moan from the other side.

In the end you were just a weak little human. And soon your hand find the way of your underwear, finally touching the most sensitive place of your body. You were just imagining him in top of you, he would fuck you so good, so full. You could almost feel his weight on your body, his skin against yours. You wished you could say it was the first time you had imagine something like this. But it really wasn’t. Satoru has been haunting your darkest fantasy for a while now, fed now by all the story you’ve heard from your friends.

“Ah fuck, love, do you hear me?”

You stopped breathing, your fingers stopping what they were doing.

“ Fuck love, you look so fucking pretty, spread yourself more for me”

You were so dumb for doing this but you still did, spreading your legs wider, giving yourself a better access.

“ I’m sure you taste so sweet, fuck, if only I could taste you.”

Your fingers were becoming more erratic, pleasure and tension building up between your legs.

“Are you gonna cum love?

-Yes” you cried, your face burning from embarrassment.

You prayed all the gods above that they couldn’t hear you.

“Yeah you’re gonna come for me. So fucking pretty, ah-”

You cried out, the coil in your stomach snapping, your juice flooding out.

“Gojo sensei” you moaned, maybe a bit too loud.

You hear him moan from the other side of the wall, probably reaching his end too. The only thing left of you was exhaustion, sadness and a bit of disgust. You just wanted to sleep. The next day Satoru woke up a bitter sweet taste in his mouth. What happened during the night, he could not explain it. But fuck, he heard you, and he knew you heard him. He hope you knew that every words he said were meant for you. That it was your face that flashed through his mind when he came that night. He find you in the common room, speaking to Itadori, the boy looking a bit down.

“Are you really leaving us soon?

-Yes I already overstepped my boundaries with staying that long. Obviously Mahito is not going to come back any time soon.

-We’ll miss you Y/n!”

You were leaving? It was logical after all. You could not stay here forever. Why did it make him a little bit sad then?

“Leaving already?”

You turned you head toward him, soon avoiding his gaze. He smiled.

“I have to go back to the headquarters as soon as I can. I am leaving for the south tomorrow.

-I see”

You next told everyone that you will go to Tokyo this afternoon because you wanted to buy some stuff before leaving. The first year almost jumped you, begging you to take them with you. Or at least Itadori and Nobara did.

“Kids, Y/n probably wants to spend time alone.

-No it’s fine they can come with me.

-It won’t bother you if I come too then”

Your head lowered, visibly embarrassed. But you didn’t say anything about it. You left to get ready, changing your uniform for some casual clothes, and Satoru thanked all the gods for this. You looked adorable. Your black eyepatch was replaced by a white simpler one, you were wearing a cute outfit, suddenly you were looking more your age.

“Let’s go then”

You stayed silent for most of the trip. Itadori and Nobara were so happy to go out you almost lost them twice in the crowd. Megumi was walking calmly behind them, looking after the two. You stoped a few times to look at some street food, and Satoru couldn’t help but think of this as a kind of date. If only he could hold your hand in his while you strolled through harajuku.

“They look good, don’t they?

Hm, they do, the one with strawberries look really tasty”

He got closer from, his tall form hovering your body. Your back was pressed against his torso and he could feel you tense a bit. He smirked, getting closer, pressing himself against your ass even more. You gasped.

“We’ll take two of the strawberry ones please!” He said smiling, your head shooting up to look at him.

“Sensei...

-Come on Y/n, let me spoil you a bit”

You didn’t say anything else, just pouting looking away from him.

“Their whip cream tastes so good.

-Yes this place is great. There is a mochi place not far away, it’s great too!

-Do you have a sweet tooth sensei?

-I always loved what was sweet”

You snickered a bit not saying anything. You all kept walking for a bit finally deciding to go back to the academy. You were laughing and the mood had obviously lighten up even if you were still distant.

“Did you have a good time ?

-Yes thank you. I’m happy I could have a little break before going back to mission.

-Where are they sending you?

-In China. Mahito is only the tip of the iceberg. Me and several other shaman are sent to hopefully learn some things about the curses there.

-Seems risky.

-It definitely is. I don’t want to be paranoid but I have a feeling they want to maybe silence some of us.

-Oh so you are aware of that.

-I’ve been working for them since I was seventeen. I am well aware of their methods. Mahito might have killed most of my team mates, but we were not supposed to face someone as powerful. At least not when I wasn’t here.

-They got you separated from the group for a while?

-Basically yeah, when I came back most of them were dead, the other quite the job.

-And you still are going to follow their orders?

-I don’t really have a choice. I don’t feel like becoming a target of their wrath” you turned around to face him, “I am not like you”

He took off his blindfold, his eyes falling on your soft face. You gasped a little, almost dropping your ice cream. He came closer, bending his neck a little to look into your eyes.

“Don’t die.

-I don’t plan to.

-Good”

If you ended up dying, maybe he would go and have a little discussion with the so called higher ups of the sorcerer society. He knew you were strong, stronger than most, the way you got rid of the s class curse was still a mystery to him, but he knew that those bastards had very efficient way to get rid of people they deemed too dangerous. If only you could stay here.

“ But you know, if I end up dying there, could you do something for me before.”

He quirked an eyebrow, suspicious.

“Sensei”

His breathing became a little bit more rigged.

“Sensei, could you help me with something?

-Yes, of course”

He didn’t even need to know what you were asking him. He would basically do anything for you at this point. Really everything. You grabbed his shirt, asking him to bend over, his face coming at your level.

“ Sensei, I didn’t even tell you what I wanted yet...

-And what do you want?

-I want you”

He almost chocked on air. He could definitely give this to you.

“You can have me whenever you want love, fuck, you don’t even have to ask.”

He almost ran through the wall while returning to your room. It was empty when he came in. You really were going to leave. He did not have time to think more about it before you jump in his arm, your legs wrapped around his waist.

“ I caught you baby”, he chuckled, “Now, what do you want me to do?”

Your mouth was so close from his, you breath hitting his lips.

“ Tell me sensei, do you like being teased?

-Not really baby

-Me either, but last time, a guy I liked thought it was a good idea to make me know he was fucking someone else.

-This guy is a meanie

-He really is. I was waiting in my room, if he wanted he could have take me. Because I was waiting for him you know

-Oh really?”

You little minx, you were playing with him.

“I had to touch myself all alone in my room you know”

Yeah he was definitely hard now. He dropped you a little lower, your ass pressing against his clothed cock.

“ Sensei, I said no teasing...

-You’re right, no more teasing.”

He let you fall into the bed, laughing a little at your surprised expression. If you didn’t like being teased he wasn’t gonna waste more time. He grabbed your chin firmly in his hand squeezing your cheeks. You looked at him, your hands hesitantly reaching for his blindfold .

“Do it”

You hooked your thumbs under the fabric, slowly taking it off. He saw you eyes widen a little, lips parting slightly. You had already seen him without his blindfold but it seemed so much more intimate now. His beautiful white hair fell on his forehead, azure eyes opening to stare directly into your own.

“My turn”

His hand slide along your cheek, taking of your eye patch. A little scar was crossing your eyelid.

“So pretty” he said smirking, his lips hovering over yours.

You obviously weren’t very patient. The moment he was getting closer, you bite his lower lip, sucking it gently. He could feel your teeth sink into his flesh. You were going to be the death of him. He grabbed your hair firmly, capturing your lips in a feverish kiss. Your thighs were parted, his slander hips placed perfectly between them. You tasted so sweet, the taste of ice cream still lingering on your tongue. His favorite dessert truly. He could have kept kissing you forever if he didn’t felt you moving under him, your hips rolling against his crotch. He could feel how much you wanted this. He grabbed your wrist pinning your arms to the mattress. He had no doubt that you were a strong sorcerer but what could you even do against him.

“You want this so bad, you’re starting to behave like a slut.

-I can’t wait anymore. I’ve wait for this for so long.

-Did you?

-Yeah” you moaned shamelessly when he rocked his hips forward. You cried out his name, eyebrows furrowing. He had all the intentions in the world of driving you crazy, teasing you to no ends. But seeing you like this. His poor baby. He wasn’t going to be cruel. Not a lot that is. He let his hands caress your body, watching how you seem to squirm under his touch. You looked so sensitive.

“I’m gonna be nice with you love, but you have to be honest with me.

-W-what? I’d do anything....

-Of course you would.”

He bit your skin near your hip, leaving a mark there. Trailing his way down until he reaches your underwear. He was almost salivating at the view. If your mouth has tasted sweet, he couldn’t wait to taste you more. He spread your legs wider, holding your thighs firmly. His tongue darted out of his mouth, finally touching your flesh. You were so wet, your smell so much stronger there. He saw your hands clapping against your mouth, a little noise escaping you.

“Now you’re gonna have to tell me the truth baby. Do you want me?

-So much! I really want you sensei!

-Since when have you think of me like this?” You looked up to him, your eyes widened in shock and embarrassment.

“Since... We met maybe....

-So fucking naughty... Tell me more....

-Sensei... I wanted you so much back then but you weren’t even looking at me, fuck it feels so good...” He had started sucking at your flesh, toying with the most sensitive part of your body. You were squirming against his touch, but the little noises you were letting out were so sinful.

“I did so many things so you would notice me, haaa, but you didn’t... I know I had to become stronger.

-And now here you are baby, you’ve become so strong, and so good at pretending you don’t want me. I almost believed you in the beginning.”

Knowing that you had fantasied about this since you met him was having an effect on him he should be ashamed of. Your silly little crush on him, and all the thing you probably had thought about in your young mind full of hormones, it was really all he needed to lose all control. His fingers were now trusting deep and fast inside you. You were crying incoherent things, mixes of his name and pleads for more. He was addicted to you, he could stay like this, his mouth and fingers buried deep in your dripping hole, forever. Watching you cum for the second or third time as he laughed at you. He almost forgot how hard it had made him.

“Satoru...

-No more sensei?” he slapped you ass, “don’t be rude with your superior Y/n.

-Please just, more...

-Use your words baby”He was smirking, so cocky about the mess he had made of you.

“Your cock please....”

You didn’t even had to ask him twice. He probably would have made you beg for it if he wasn’t so drunk in you. He unzipped his pants, freeing his member. He was so hard, it was painful. He was so caught up in his thoughts he did not see your hand coming closer. He jolted, tensing, a little growl almost escaping his mouth, when you took his cock in your hand.

“Fuck, Y/n, don’t sneak on me like that...

-You’re so hard sensei...

-Yeah baby, it’s because of you, you made sensei like this...

-Can I taste you, I want you in my mouth”, you proceed to stick your tongue out, a bit of saliva dripping from it. You were gonna kill him. He wanted nothing more than to fuck your face. But right now all his thoughts were on your slutty little hole. Definitely later. He grabbed your legs, making you fell back into the mattress. He bent your legs, your upper thighs pressed against your chest. You were so exposed. He couldn’t wait any longer, his hips rocking forward, his cock entering you mercilessly. You gasped, air leaving your lungs. He felt so big inside you, so hard and heavy.

“You’re literally creaming around me already, are you gonna cum?”

He was smiling, but inside he was screaming . Why were you still so tight. So fucking warm, your slimy walls were sucking him in. He knew now, that he could stay buried balls deep inside you forever. He pressed his hips even more against you, his hips trusting hard against you. The noise of your juices and skin clapping against one another was obscene, but so addictive. He was hitting so deep, from this angle, rubbing against your walls. He grabbed your arms, letting your legs go. You were now sitting on his lap, chest pressed against his. The change of angle had made you moan even louder. It felt so much more intimate for some reason. His grip on your ass forcing you to impale yourself on his member. You were going to cum. You felt it, deep inside.

“Cum for me baby.”

You didn’t need anything else, as you press your forehead on his neck, moaning his name your body trembling against his. You felt him tense against you, his pace getting quicker and deeper. You were crying from overstimulation when he finally cum inside you, growling in you ear. You fell limb in his arms, empty of your energy. Satoru kissed you before laying you down on your bed. You grabbed his hand, bringing it to your mouth. You kissed his knuckles gently. His heart swell at that, not wanting to leave your side. That was how he find himself staying all night with you. You woke him up again a few hours later, you were looking all hot and bothered again. How could he say no to his baby. You spent the night like this, between cuddling and sleeping.

That’s why he was so surprised to see you weren’t there when he woke up. He had forgot you were supposed to leave early in the morning. He stood up, understanding how empty the room now felt. He walked toward the desk where his clothes had been folded. He took the little piece of paper, realizing you probably had left it here for him. He laughed, reading it. He knew you were strong. He just had to wait a little bit for you to come back. He knew you would.

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