#but that way his stage name would be LINK and his real name would be Hiro Hateno

[jedi-valjean]

I meant that promise as deeply as I had meant anything in my entire life. But there would be no if about it. There was no way I was going to let that murdering bastard get to my father. I would catch him first.

This is from a Death Note fic, but there's no Death Note knowledge required to read it— in fact, I'm very interested in seeing how a reader might approach this story as their first experience with Death Note, so don't hesitate to check it out if you like mystery thrillers! Link to the first chapter here.

Summary: When a superpowered serial killer emerges on the world stage, teenage honor student Light Yagami becomes obsessed with following the case. But as he digs deeper, he finds himself in the crosshairs of “L,” the ruthless and amoral freelance detective who has taken it upon himself to uncover the killer’s identity at any cost. Implicated by a slew of uncanny coincidences, Light must fight to clear his name and catch the real killer… before it’s too late.

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[amiharana]

Do you even need me to request kpop revalink

(kpop idol revali for reference)

i'm just going to put your two asks together lmao

this idea is so big-brained and on brand. i was originally already beginning to write about link and zelda being in an idol duo (an idea i borrowed from my concepted fe3h kpop idols au LOL), but this lines up better with revalink's canon interactions ^^ maybe zelda can be analogous to IU or taeyeon or another huge kpop soloist

i'm going to continue in the assumed world where HYRULE CORP is the main company, and the companies link and revali are from are subsidiaries of HYRULE, i.e. revali is under Hebra Ent. and link is actually from a smaller, newly acquired company called Necluda Music. i'm gonna pull an olivia hye on link and say he actually only trained for one day before the managers decided they wanted him to debut, because he's actually a fucking prodigy; he passed the audition with flying colors, and the vocal coaches and dance teachers think he's already debut-ready 🫣 in contrast, i'm going to pull a jihyo on revali and have him be a trainee of 10 years LMFOAKJDHFKDJ should i pull a TWICE on RiTO and have them form via competition/survival show too?

warning for the below. this was extremely self-indulgent and perhaps indecipherable because i used so many kpop terms. but i had a lot of fun writing it.

at this time, RiTO have been rookies for a couple months now and are preparing for their next comeback with a mini album (their debut was only a single), when revali gets the news that their new sister company Necluda Music (what a dumb name, revali thinks) will be debuting a brand new soloist by the name of LINK, with who the company wants to demonstrate a better way of connecting the fans to their idol. revali is still a little bitter about having to debut in a group, even though teba and his hyungs (KDJFJKDFJD) are helping him deal with the bitterness better, so revali can't help but get a little frumpy and sour. but when he hears that this kid has only trained for ONE DAY (alexa play 'just one day' by bts) and is debuting already, he is absolutely beside himself with anger.

"what do you mean he only trained for a day before they decided he would debut?" revali screeches, slamming the door of the practice room open. kass jumps and yells in surprise, where teba and harth's eyes widen at the sound and they spin to look at revali. mimo doesn't even flinch and continues stretching. "i trained for ten years since i was a child, and this kid gets to debut like it's nothing?!"

teba relaxes and sighs. "there's nothing we can do about it, revali," he tries to say as calmly as possible, but he's already a little irritated with revali's attitude. their maknae has yet to mature. "we're not even under the same company. if necluda's ceo thinks he's ready to debut, then he debuts. and if he fails, then he fails."

"but don't you think it's unfair, hyung?" revali says, stalking into the room towards his leader. "we trained for years for a chance to debut, and he doesn't even get hours before they shove him onto the stage. what's so special about him?"

"we'll find out soon enough," harth grumbles, and turns back towards the mirror to continue stretching with mimo. "he debuts in a month, doesn't he?" mimo hums in affirmation.

"just because link was able to debut sooner does not negate your talent, revali," kass says gently. "you worked very hard to get to where you are now, and you were finally able to debut, a feat most trainees may never achieve. you are an extremely talented vocalist and dancer, and they're calling you the it boy of this generation of idols. you should be proud of yourself, you know!"

revali tries his best not to blush at the compliments, but his cheeks pinken anyway and he pouts, crossing his arms and looking away. "i suppose you're right..."

teba claps a hand on revali's shoulder. "try not to worry about it so much," he advises. "focus on your lessons and practicing the new songs. comeback is just around the corner, and it'll do you no good kicking up a fuss about that kid." revali nods and they start practicing for their new song. but try as he might to heed teba's words, revali can't stop thinking about this mysterious new soloist and just exactly how talented he could possibly be to debut so soon...

(the night that link debuts, revali is ready. he has youtube open on his laptop huddled in his bed, watching the countdown to the music video and a furrow in his brow. he's had the video open all day since he got the notification that the video would drop tonight and he's waiting. he has to know what this link kid has that his 8 year old self didn't.

it's everything. link naturally has everything that revali didn't. his voice, his body control, his charisma, all of it. begrudgingly, he has to accept that link does have what it takes to debut so soon. and that he isn't so bad looking. no, revali does not like him, KASS GET BACK HERE—)

link's debut is extremely successful, a single called 'LEGEND' with a kid-becomes-superhero concept. link has a very "boy next door" look to him, so of course the girlies are about to eat him up, he's a cutie and everyone wants to bring him home to their parents ☝️😹 bro is breaking both hyrule corp's records and industry records, he's already on par with the corporation's top soloists zelda and ganon, and fans are calling the three of them together as the "Triforce", since they're a triple threat for hyrule corp 😁 people are predicting how many music show wins link is going to get and whether or not he's going to chart on billboard and how high, longevity vs freefall, how many views the mv is going to get in 24 hours, etc

and revali is furious. RiTO is going to start losing its hype if link ends up charting on billboard or get more music show wins than their debut did. sure, the kid's good but he can't be better than revali! revali would rather die than let link be better than him.

the other members are more optimistic and try to pay less attention to link's debut, choosing to focus on their own comeback. meanwhile, every day that revali walks into the practice room, he's a little ball of burning, spitting fire, talking about how their debut was so much better than link's and that he doesn't understand the hype. but in the middle of talking shit, revali kind of accidentally reveals that he's basically been keeping up with link's promotion schedule? "i watched the studio choom video, it wasn't even that good. he's relying too much on the backup dancers and camera angles." or "apparently, he's performing on inkigayo too. let's hope that it'll be better than his music bank stage. hmph."

it's not until link does an interview on one of those variety shows when the host asks link who inspires him the most, that revali's entire life gets flipped upside his head. "ah," link says, his cheeks flushing pink and smiling shyly, "well, i have a lot of people who inspire me, like my family or zelda-sunbaenim, but the person who inspires me the most... it would be RiTO's revali-sunbaenim."

revali is watching the interview in the living room of their shared dormitory, sat in the middle of the couch in between all of his members, all of their eyes widening. his mouth drops and his eyes bug out of his head. "what?!" he nearly shouts.

mimo shakes his head. "couldn't have seen that coming."

"oh, revali from RiTO?" even the host is surprised. "can you tell us more?"

"sure," link says, beaming. "i've always admired revali-sunbae because he's a very talented performer and he was a trainee for such a long time. i remember seeing him on tv for hebra entertainment's old competition show when i was a kid, and i was so moved by how he refused to back down when the judges told him he was too young to debut. of course, this industry is not safe for children, but revali-sunbae's passion to perform and his determination to debut was so cool!" link's cheeks darken a little more and he smiles shyly at the camera again. "ah... and he worked hard and debuted well in his group, with a successful song and concept."

"haha, that's amazing, link-ssi!" the host laughs. "if revali-ssi was here or if he was watching, what would you say to him?"

"revali-sunbae," link says, staring at the camera with sparkling eyes, "thank you for inspiring me to aim high and to chase after my own dreams. your determination and talent motivates and challenges my own performance and i will always strive to perform as well as you. i hope we can meet and work together one day. fighting, revali-sunbae!" he stands up from his chair and does a full 90º bow, to which the host of the variety show laughs in surprise and claps.

"wah, you have so much respect for revali-sunbae, who would've known!" they remark. "revali-ssi, if you see this, please treat your hoobae well!"

the interview continues with other unrelated topics, but revali is still staring blankly at the tv screen, mouth still agape and eyes wide. there's just no way that happened just now. link? inspired by revali? motivated and challenged by revali?

"hello, earth to revali," harth says, waving his hand in front of revali's eyes. it breaks his gaze and he shakes his head. "are you back with us yet?"

"he had to have been lying," revali immediately insists.

"why would he lie?" mimo muses. "he remembers you from that shitty old competition show and it clearly had an impact on him as a kid. you can see the genuinity in his eyes,"

revali cringes at the memory of being on that show and how he acted as a child, but shakes his head again. "he could be saying it to associate with us and boost his popularity!" okay, to be fair that was terrible reasoning, but revali is scrambling to pull any cards to explain why link would be lying about being inspired by him. he had to be lying... right?

"i told you, revali, you're the it boy of this generation of idols," kass snickers. "of course you're going to have fans."

"shut up," revali growls, crossing his arms and curling in on himself. "there's just no way..."

but where there's a will, there's a way 😊 almost immediately after that clip of link's interview comes out, the RiTO social media accounts' notifications are blowing up asking for revali's response. fans are trending revali and link's names, and a portmanteau of them as "revalink". all the tweets are about how cute link is looking up to revali and how revali and link would make a good pair, and revali just can't stop flushing as he scrolls through the trending tags about all of these comments. and strangely, revali's managers aren't even mad about the situation. "this could be good for publicity," they say. "since link's debut was so popular, showing good feelings towards each other might make RiTO more popular too. please reply to link and say something nice to him. maybe congratulate him on debuting or compliment him, just make sure you say something nice."

so at the insistence of his managers, revali does exactly that and only that. he goes to the RiTO twitter account and tweets out a short, but polite, "@/LINK_NCM Congratulations on your debut :) Fighting! -Revali" and though he means it to be only short and polite, that is not how the internet takes it. instead, it feeds the flames of this whole #revalink thing and suddenly, revali has dating rumors with this new rookie.

kpop websites like allkpop and koreaboo are posting articles with clips of link's interview and revali's tweet with dumbass headlines like "RiTO's Revali responds to new soloist Link's plea: Are the two seeing each other?" there are analysis videos talking about how link blushed when he mentioned revali, so they must be dating, right??? like for goddess's sake, all link said was that revali was cool as fuck and that he was inspired by revali, it didn't mean that they were seeing each other! not that revali would mind if they dated. what? he didn't say that.

revali is lying facedown on the floor of the practice room having screamed for about half an hour to let go of his frustrations, but the irritation still pricks up and down his spine. teba and harth find him like that when they enter the room and rolls their eyes.

"stop screaming, you're going to ruin your voice," teba says. harth walks over to crouch by revali and pushes him to roll him over onto his back. revali lets himself get rolled but glares at his members.

"this is ridiculous," he spits from the floor. "how could something as irrelevant as a compliment spiral into the most convoluted dating rumor in the entire world? there was nothing that could have indicated i felt any sort of way towards that imbecile in my tweet so why on earth is the internet exploding with such nonsense? it's simply just...!" revali rolls back over onto his stomach and screams. "asinine!"

"keep your voice down, or we're going to get noise complaints," teba says, pinching in between his eyes. "this is just the way the fans are, which is why we have to be careful about what we say about or how we interact with other artists. there's nothing wrong with link looking up to you, but regardless of whether or not you acknowledged him would have blown up either way. if you didn't say anything, fans would think you're blowing him off and being disrespectful. and even if you said anything less, fans would still think you've been secretly seeing each other. it's impossible to eliminate speculation in environments like this." teba crouches on the other side of revali's facedown body and sighs, softening his voice. "nothing else can be done to remedy the situation other than to let it die down. just keep being polite and hope that the fans find something else to go crazy over. now come on, we're reviewing the b-side choreo today."

"this is ridiculous," revali mumbles again, but he stands up and dusts himself off. "if this is what happens when you acknowledge other idols, i am never tweeting or being nice to anyone ever again. i'm deleting that cursed app off of my phone and you can all make up fake tweets for me."

"don't be dramatic," teba responds, gently tapping the top of revali's head with his palm. "now get to stretching while we wait for mimo and kass."

you know how music shows will have idols be the hosts, introduce the performing idols, and interview them and shit? now what if link and revali get selected to host together 😊 to be honest i don't really watch that many music shows if it's not a clip of the performance i'm watching for, like i don't sit there and watch throughout the entire music show lolksdjhkd so i don't really know what the dynamics of idols hosting together is like? i do know that they usually have cards they read off of tho lol

the managers tell revali that he's going to host M Countdown or some shit and he's like Cool I guess, who am I hosting with? and they reluctantly are like. Erm. Link. and revali's eyes go wide and red with anger, he's ready to throw a fit, until teba claps a hand on his shoulder and tells him to calm down.

"i told you not to be dramatic," he says, as revali silently fumes under teba's hand. "you're making a big deal out of nothing."

"out of nothing?" revali hisses. "does mnet want me dead or do they want me to kill link first?"

teba bops him on the head and revali squawks. "don't make threats or it'll be me who makes you a first kill," he says. "just be polite and read off the cards. you're already a good actor, your fanservice was top notch even though you hated us all at first."

"i already apologized for that," revali grumbles rubbing his head. "but it's different with link."

"is it because you like him?" kass teases.

"no!" revali squawks. "because i still can't stand the thought of that upstart training only for a day before getting to debut. i don't care that he's vocally talented and has great control over his body. i want nothing to do with him!"

"i bet if he was on masked singer, you'd recognize his voice right away," kass sighs. revali screams and goes barreling at his fellow member, teba holding him back.

THIS POST IS GETTING SO LONG NOW but imagining revali finally meeting link at m countdown and link is just. so completely starstruck when revali greets him and his manager. he bows at a complete 90º angle again (he would have down a full floor bow if his manager didn't pull him up), and looks up at revali with bright sparkling eyes.

"a-ah, hello revali-sunbaenim!" link says, nearly squeaking. "it's a pleasure to meet you!"

revali bows slightly in response to be respectful, but the squeak in link's voice and his sparkling eyes... intrigue him. "it's a pleasure to meet you as a well, link-hoobaenim," he lies cleanly. but is it really a lie?

link is still staring at him in his fanboy mode, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, and his manager elbows him. "y-yes!" he stammers, jumping. "ah i'm sorry i'm so nervous, revali-sunbae, it's just really cool to meet you in person and i'm excited to work with you!"

revali hums, link's words stroking his ego just a little bit. "you haven't hosted a show before either, have you?" he says.

link shakes his head frantically. "no, revali-sunbae, this will be my first time hosting a show."

and revali stares a little bit at him. "hm. let's do well together, then, link-hoobae," he says, nodding and then turning to walk away back to his green room. "see you later."

as he walks away, he swears he hears link squeak again. "purah manager-nim, he's so cool!" and revali fights the smile trying to make its way onto his lips. cute. what? he didn't say that. he does not think link is cute. (maybe a little...)

when they start filming the MC portions, revali can't keep his eyes off of link. the blond is bright and cheery, ever smiling and enthusiastic, and revali can't help but play off of his energy. the film crew hands them their card prompts and signal for them to start talking with a thumbs up.

"hi everyone! we're counting down to the greatest acts of the kpop world here at: m countdown!" they greet together, and then link introduces himself.

"i'm the hero who will fight for you, LINK!" he says, holding up a peace sign and pressing one of fingers into his cheek, winking.

"and i'm the wings that will take you to the sky, Revali," revali says, saluting and winking as well. "and we are your brand new MCs for the season." link cheers, shaking his hands jazz-hand style.

"revali-sunbaenim," link then says, reading off of his cards, "it's our first time being MCs ever! are you nervous?"

"i'm not nervous at all," revali says smoothly, glancing at his cards. "are you feeling nervous, link-hoobaenim?"

"ah, maybe a little bit," link says, rubbing the back of his head and smiling shyly at the camera. "i'm only a rookie standing next to the awesome it boy of our generation and my role model! i want to do well!" he winks and raises a fist, pumping it into the air.

revali cringes internally. who is writing these cards? "oh, i'm flattered, but you debuted well, our favorite superhero-next door. link-hoobae, how old are you?"

"me? i'm a year younger than you, revali-sunbaenim," link says, looking at revali with wide eyes. revali can't tell if he's just acting or not, with how real the surprised look on link's face is.

"ah, well in that case, just call me hyung," he says, faking a smile. truthfully, he doesn't want link to call him hyung — they don't even know each other like that yet — but it's part of the script, so he has to read it out. revali is seriously going to chew out whoever wrote these cards. "you'll feel more comfortable if you call me hyung, right?"

and it's like link forgets his line for a moment, just staring wide-eyed and mouth agape at revali. if he focuses, revali thinks that link's cheeks are pink now. but link jumps right back into the script, "ah, yes, revali-hyung! i'm more comfortable now, thank you." he turns back to the camera, still smiling shyly. "ah, revali-hyung is so cool, he makes my heart beat so fast! which reminds me, the group who has a comeback today will make your heart beat fast too!"

so they list off everyone who's performing today and what songs, they go over who the top artists of last week were, more dumb MC skits, some short interviews with some of the performing groups, and the entire time, revali can't get his mind off of the way link said "revali-hyung". he thought he was going to hate it, but... he actually doesn't mind as much as he thought he would? weird.

when the MC filming is done, they step out of the shooting area and link immediately turns to revali and bows at the same 90º angle he did last time. "revali-sunbaenim, i'm so sorry," he says. "i didn't realize that the cards were going to say that, i won't call you hyung if you don't want me to." revali stares in surprise but link stays in his full bow.

"link-hoobae, please stand up," he finally manages. slowly, link does, but he keeps his eyes downcast, his brows furrowed into a crestfallen expression on his face. "it's fine, i didn't know either. please don't worry too much. please keep referring to me as sunbaenim when we are not on the set. thank you for being respectful of me, link-hoobaenim."

"of course, revali-sunbaenim!" link says and bows again. "i look forward to filming with you again, revali-sunbaenim!" he bows once more, which revali returns and part ways. he stares curiously after the blond who hurries back to his own green room. huh. i mean... maybe revali wouldn't mind too much if link called him hyung from now on. not that he'd admit that out loud!

anyways the longer that link and revali MC together, the more they kinda become like this compilation of eunchae and chaemin. they start ignoring the cards and just bicker (read: flirt aggressively) for five minutes straight and at first their managers and the show staff are like, PLEASE just stick to the script. but the fans are super into it because they're all revalink shippers 😭 so they just let revali and link bicker/flirt during the show as long as they follow the script and the views skyrocket because the chemistry is insane LMFAOKJDFDK

i just think. kpop idols au revalink ☝️😃

[chuulyssa]

from people you know to people you don’t: singer!geto

singer!geto with his silver rings clinking against the mic stand when he adjusts it mid-performance. with his fingers running through his long, dark hair just to play on the bad boy persona the media has made of him. with his spot under the spotlight in front of thousands of people to see, who lets the crowd chant in some of the vocals in the chorus while he laughs, gripping the mic and pointing it to his fans, his black painted nails gleaming in the stage lights.

singer!geto who avoids interviews, questions, and who doesn’t sing love songs... but somehow his fans always end up finding love letters in his cryptic lyrics. and he always leaves them unconfirmed too, just smirking whenever paparazzi ask if they’re real or fiction. always answering “my fans are my muse” whenever pressed about his inspo.

singer!geto who leans into the bad boy image of him by the media because it’s much easier to do so than to explain the quiet loneliness and crippling depression he has felt since high school. because it’s much easier to be seen with a new woman every month than to confess to his entire world.

singer!geto who finds himself thinking of you late at night, about what it all could’ve been had he not been so selfish. he doesn’t understand if he’s selfish or just protecting you, but whatever it is, god does it hurt him, and a little voice in his mind hopes you’re hurting as much as he is right now, not being able to touch the skin of your face, or the softness of your lips in his big and lonely penthouse.

singer!geto whose eyes are always searching around in his concert, scanning the sea of unfamiliar faces just so that maybe he could find yours, and maybe that would mean he was finally forgiven for pushing you away for so long, for always having his name in headlines linked to other women who aren’t you, for always being so scared of his own fans for you.

singer!geto who’s lyrics are always penned at three in the morning when his imaginations of you are the most vivid. and he swears to his pr team he’s not in love, never has been. yet they all question how the words pour out more sorrowfully than they would have if it had been all just stupid stories of broken couples.

singer!geto who doesn’t know where you are right now after he cut you off that night. so he travels around the world in the guise of his world tours, and doesn’t forget to explore the whole city in case he finds you in the marketplace buying your favourite fruits like he used to, or in the store with the snack you used to share with him on movie nights, or in the shopping mall where he swore he would buy you pretty dresses when he grows up and becomes rich.

singer!geto who wishes he knew how to grow up happy, who wishes he never dreamed his dream now that he has achieved it, who still wants what he wanted all those years ago so selfishly. even after all those “you have to sacrifice to achieve your goals” he says to the world, he wishes you would unblock him on your instagram just so you could match pfps again, so you could post him on your stories saying “my pookie” again, and even though he said he hated when you called him that, he would kill just to hear it spill from your lips one more time.

singer!geto who would always question why most successful people said money couldn’t buy everything, but has now realized that they were right. money couldn’t buy the way you laughed at his jokes, or the way you smiled at the new song he wrote, or the way you kissed his calloused fingers after a long practice session.

singer!geto who looks at small things at the shopping center and thinks you would like them, so he buys them even though you aren’t here to savour them anymore. he doesn’t remember how often he’s been questioned about this habit of buying clothes that won’t fit him, or things on his shelf that most certainly could never match his style. he could go on and on about the meaning those carried for him, but he didn’t. he couldn’t.

singer!geto who’s a coward, too afraid to take your name in front of the crowd of his thousand or so fangirls. what if you didn't like the spotlight? what if the girls got a bit too crazy? was it his fault for picking this career after all? was it his fault he fell in love with you more than he did for the strings of his guitar?

singer!geto who climbs up on stage for the final day of his tour, and it’s in the old city you used to live in. the old high school the two of you would go to was long demolished, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the love you held for him was destroyed along with that building as well. but among the low murmurs of the crowd, and the light falling on their faces, his eyes search for just one person almost habitually.

and he finds her.

you.

singer!geto who’s always been a bit shy when it came to singing in front of you. so when he sees you in the audience, his voice falters, and he forgets his purpose, and although he isn’t quite sure if his delusions have finally caught up to reality, or if his imagination has become progressive enough to project his feelings in the real world, his eyebrows furrow and his eyes squint as if to demand if you were real. if you were really there.

singer!geto who you smile timidly at, too small in the row of his million or so fans, too much of a speck in the sea to be noticed by anyone else. but he notices. he always notices. and you think this is the first time he has taken this long to tune his guitar on stage, and the others might have missed the faint pink on his cheeks. he was always shy.

“you’ll like this one,” he says as if you haven’t already liked the hundred songs he wrote before.

singer!geto who keeps forgetting the next lines of the song he wrote, and instead keeps adding lines that feel more raw, more real than anything anyone has ever heard before. and he has always refused to sing love songs, then why is this one about wanting to be braver to keep a relationship he quit, his fans wonder. but how would they know that singer!geto performs under the stage lights every night, but he has only ever felt seen when he was with you.

singer!geto who tumbles downstage immediately after the performance, hearing the chants of his name only distantly, just so he can scream at his managers to find the pretty lady in the purple dress he had bought for you so long ago and forgotten about after thinking you would’ve thrown it away just like he had done to you.

singer!geto who finds you walking up to him with a sheepish smile, and his breath catches in his throat. he doesn’t want to believe it is real — he wants to meet you alone, not in front of all the prying eyes of his team. his eyes are wide and his lips are quivering, and the only thing keeping him from breaking down completely is the hand you extended to greet him.

“hi,” you introduce your name, and his shaking hands meet your firm ones.

he stiffens and nods, surprised by the formality but not completely so. his fingers clutch tightly around the back of your hand that he knew so well, but now it just feels so unknown. he desperately tries to claw at you, or rather what he remembers of you, the one who has haunted the lyrics of his songs for so long.

his voice is trembling when he says your name, though it feels foreign on his tongue now. have you changed so much that you forgot him?

“i’m a fan, can i have your autograph?”

you could have the whole man if you requested, sweetheart.

but you don’t know it.

you don’t remember.

© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

a/n: i have my math 3h paper tmr wtf am i doing here

[junkissed]

goodnight n go

★ | member — fwb!vernon x f reader ★ | genre — smut, angst, non-idol au, happy ending, fwb to lovers ★ | word count — 10.2k

★ | synopsis — you keep coming back for more, but every night ends the same. maybe this time things will be different.

★ | warnings — guitarist!vernon, rock band!hhu, mentions of alcohol, vernon has commitment issues (but he gets over it) ★ | smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, consensual drunk sex, car sex, oral (reader receiving), fingering, piv, making out, multiple orgasms, pussy drunk vernon (he's down baddd), some aftercare ★ | notes — thanks to @onlymingyus for always being the best and to @wonustars for proofreading !! i did not intend for this fic to be this long but i'm actually really proud of how it turned out so i hope you like it!! also i often make playlists for my fics but i never share them, but i've been listening to this one for months while i've been writing this fic so i'll link it so you can listen too. if you enjoy this fic, please reblog and let me know in the tags!! reblogs are super important to tumblr and they help motivate me to keep writing more like this :)

check out the playlist! featuring — goodnight n go - ariana grande ; black eye - vernon ; uh oh - tate mcrae ; sunset - caroline polachek ; romanticise this - james marriott ; entertainer - zayn ; & more

“hey, you wanna get drinks tonight?”

as usual, that’s how it starts.

you probably should have said no. you’d played this game before. you knew exactly what hansol meant when he offered to hang out after band practice, because it was never just “hanging out”.

you don’t even know why you still go to practices anymore. for a long time you’d avoided them; it wasn’t really your style, and you were never interested in being a groupie for their local gigs. your roommate seungcheol always invited you to every practice and every time you declined with the excuse of homework or other plans, but cheol finally convinced you to come just one time.

at first, it had been because he wanted you to hear a new song they were working on and he’d wanted to know how you liked it before they played it at an upcoming show. but then he’d introduced you to the rest of his bandmates, and after that there was no going back.

you couldn’t help the way your eyes always gravitated towards hansol, who insisted that you call him his real name instead of his stage name that everyone else called him. from the very first practice, you were captivated by him: the way his long fingers seem to dance along the neck of his guitar so effortlessly, the way his voice rasps when he sings, the way your breath catches in your throat when he grips the microphone stand and rolls his head back, lips parted in ecstasy.

he’s addictive, and it’s exactly the reason why you find yourself in the backseat of his car over and over again.

every time, it was easy to pretend that things would be different. you’d walk into the bar together and sit at the table in the back, order a few drinks, chat for a while about nothing. did you like the new stuff we played tonight? yeah, i know cheol is really excited to perform it saturday. you been doing any writing lately? mmm, a little. i’ve been feeling inspired. we could go back to my place and i could show you. except he never does.

hansol wasn’t a bad guy. he always paid for your drinks no matter how many times you offered to pick up the tab, he was polite, he listened to what you had to say. he just didn’t want more than that, and that’s where it all fell apart. you’d screw around for a while, then you’d part ways and wouldn’t speak to each other until next week. you never went to see them play shows, he never texted, you never called, never went on a real date besides meeting in the same bar down the street every thursday night after practice.

he seemed fine with that. you weren’t. and yet every time, you ended up back in his arms.

he groans into your mouth, pushing his hips into you and pinning you harder against the faded leather seats of his old honda. his lips are sloppy but eager, messily pressing his mouth into yours as his fingers tangle in the hair at the base of your neck. you can taste the beer and smoke on his breath, but for some reason it doesn’t bother you. maybe you’re used to it, or maybe it’s just because it’s him. you don’t want to know which reason is the truth.

he kisses you until you’re dizzy, and you can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or from the thrill of kissing him once again. it’s a high you’re convinced you’ll never get tired of, although you’re not quite sure yet if it’s one that he will.

hansol always lets you set the pace, but tonight he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself. both of your shirts met the floor of his car what seems like hours ago, leaving you in just your bra and pants as he makes out with you as if it’s the first and last time he’ll get that chance. his fingers breeze over your waist the same way they breeze over his guitar strings when he plays: careful yet greedy, each touch intentional yet impulsive as he grips your waist.

he drags his fingers higher and it sends a shiver down your spine, arching your hips up against him and rolling your head back against the seat’s headrest. if there’s only one upside to this relationship, it’s that he’s good at this. really good. if he weren’t, then you wouldn’t have spent so many nights letting him fuck you in the parking lot of your shitty local bar. it does something for your confidence knowing that he must feel the same about you, or else he wouldn’t keep inviting you out. at the very least, this arrangement is mutual, even if you wish it wasn’t.

his hips rock against your crotch again, and even through both of your clothes you can feel how hard he is. your mind is clouded, everything’s a haze, and all you can think about is how badly you want him. the warmth of his skin, the gentle scratch of his nails on the back of your neck, his long eyelashes that flutter against your cheek as he kisses you.

you feel your hands slide haphazardly down his bare chest, fumbling over his hips as you tug on the waistband of his jeans. none of it feels graceful, not like the way he handles his music. it’s sloppy, desperate, clumsy, and it’s everything you need right now.

he manages to lean back from you enough to undo his pants and push them down to his knees, but his mouth is back on yours in an instant. somehow you end up on your back across the seats, gazing up at him with slack lips as his thin silver chain dangles over your face. you might not remember a lot of what happens on these nights when you’re with him, but you’ll always remember this moment. him hovering above you with heavily lidded eyes, biting his lip and cursing as he pushes into you, is etched into your mind in a way you simultaneously love and hate. love because it feels so good, hate because it never lasts.

the last half of those nights never stands out in your memory. you remember feeling good, you remember trembling in his arms and gasping and moaning and crying in pleasure, but the images are too fuzzy to make out. you don’t really need to reflect on them anyway; you know he’ll just bring you out next week and do it all over again.

hansol kisses you once more after you’re both finally spent, but the kisses afterwards are always different. more… hesitant, more uncertain. none of the passion and desperation that you’ve come to crave from him. not what you really want.

“i can drive you home,” he offers once he’s finished cleaning you up. for once you think he might genuinely mean it, but you can never be sure enough to take that chance. you want him to drive you home. god, you want him to so bad. to have him come over with you and stay the night, stay another night and another until your apartment isn’t just yours anymore, that’s what you’ve wanted all this time. and it’s what you’ll never have.

“i’ll call an uber,” you answer.

“i’ll wait with you, then.”

the silence that settles over his car is heavy as you climb back into the front passenger seat. you want to tell him to get in the uber with you, stay more than just a couple hours with you in the furthest back corner of the bar parking lot that’s too far to be illuminated by streetlights. you want to argue that he’s too drunk even to drive himself, that he needs to come home with you and sleep it off together in the comfort of your bed, but you know it’s not true and it won’t work. this is a conversation you’ve had many times before. every night you’ve spent with him blurs into the next, always the same. 

sometimes you want to laugh at how naive you are, for thinking he’d eventually come to his senses and realize there’s more to you than a good lay before a gig. sometimes you want to grab him and shake him by the shoulders and tell him to grow the fuck up, give him an ultimatum and make him tell you what he wants from you or else put an end to it all. sometimes you just want to cry, to mourn your wasted time when you’re fully aware it’s never going to lead to something more, no matter how badly you want it and how hard you try.

no matter how many times you get your hopes up, no matter how many times you pray and beg and plead with god and the universe and every other higher power to get him to realize this can’t keep going on the way it is forever, nothing ever changes. you’re never going to stop running to him when he calls, and he’s never going to stop calling.

finally another car pulls into the lot, and you manage to pull yourself out of his car. you hear your name behind you and you stumble, swaying on your feet as he rolls down his window.

maybe this time will be different.

he says his usual goodbyes and goodnights, flashing you a loose grin and a wave as his engine sputters to life, and he asks if you’re planning on coming to practice next week. 

and you find yourself nodding.

you’re left standing there, your head and your heart pounding, watching his headlights fade as he drives away, until you’ve stood there for so long that your ride starts honking and calling for you to get in the car so you can leave.

maybe next time will be different.

this is going to be the last time, you swear.

you exhale as you stand inside the lobby of the venue, repeating the words to yourself. there’s a chill in the air tonight. the wind blows smoke in your direction from the couple standing by the door, abandoned cigarettes clutched between their fingers as they make out sloppily.

you grimace and turn away, studying the faded graffiti and half-ripped posters and advertisements that litter the walls around you. you mean it this time, seriously. the only reason you came tonight was because it’s the last time. a goodbye, of sorts.

you have to admit, you were a little shocked when hansol texted you after your weekly meet-up after practice. not only did he want to make sure you got home safe after you left, but he’d asked if you’d come to their next performance.

you stare down at your phone in your hand, rereading the texts for what feels like the thousandth time in the past few days just to make sure you haven’t imagined them. but no, there they are, bright pixels staring right back up at you from the screen.

hansol: hey just wanted to make sure you made it back home

hansol: btw we’re playing at the phoenix on saturday and i was wondering if you had plans? i wanna see you

hansol: maybe we could get dinner after or somethin if youre down idk

hansol: hoping youll be there

you’d been tempted to refuse him, out of bitterness or resentment or something else, but you can’t say you weren’t shocked by his offer. he’d suggested every once in a while that you should come see them play sometime, but it was always clear to both of you that it was out of small talk rather than genuine interest in you being there. but this time he’d said he wanted you there.

it was nice to feel wanted, for once. maybe you hadn’t been going crazy. maybe things really were different this time.

you glance at your phone once more to check the time before you slip it into your pocket, taking a deep breath as you walk through the second set of doors into the main room. you can hear the deep sound of wonwoo’s drums warming up, but the stage is obscured behind a ratty set of faded red curtains.

there’s still a few minutes before their set, but the room is already crowded with people so you push your way to the side wall near the back. you don’t really want anyone to see you here, anyway. you don’t want anyone to see that your resolve is paper-thin when it comes to hansol.

you hadn’t told him that you were coming tonight, just sending him a vague response and telling him you’d have to see if your schedule is free. even that felt too generous, after the anguish he’s put you through the past few weeks. he doesn’t need to know that you’re here, just like he doesn’t need to know the real reason you’ve been avoiding ever coming to see him play. and it’s not because you always have other plans.

you’re hoping to just watch the performance quietly from the back, then sneak out without ever having to talk to him, and text him later that you’d enjoyed it. you already knew you were going to enjoy it. you’d heard every original song, cover, and riff they’d ever played together, and at this point you could probably recite their setlist by heart. anyone could see that they were talented together, so it isn’t surprising that the venue is packed tonight. honestly, it’d be for the better if you got lost in the crowd and never saw him face to face.

the house lights suddenly fade into darkness and the crowd starts to quiet, the curtains finally pulling back to reveal the band. seungcheol stands in front of a microphone in the center of the stage, with wonwoo in the back at his drum set and mingyu to his left holding a bass guitar. and then, of course, there’s hansol.

you hate the way your gaze immediately lands on him, standing in the same position he always does, with his guitar slung around his neck by a thick red strap. the crowd starts cheering, and distantly you recognize seungcheol’s voice introducing the group, but you can’t make out any of his words.

your mind flashes back to all the nights you’ve spent sitting on a folding chair in mingyu’s garage, watching them laugh and bicker and fool around. it’s different seeing them actually on a stage for once, the metal of their instruments glinting under the harsh, colorful stage lights.

it’s not a large stage by any means, just a few feet higher than the ground and barely wide enough for all four of them to fit. but their presence is captivating, and it makes the dingy local theater seem more special than it really is. but then again, hansol makes everything seem more special than it really is.

seungcheol finishes speaking and the crowd around you lets out whoops and cheers, but you stay silent. your eyes are still stuck on hansol, watching him scan the crowd as he twists the tuning pegs on his guitar.

even from the back of the room, you can tell he’s nervous. his fingers shake just a little, in a way you know they never do because you’ve watched him tune his guitar a thousand times under the dim interior lights in his car. you watch his eyes dart around the room, squinting to see into the crowd before turning his attention back to the fretboard in his hands.

he’s not the most outgoing guy in the world, but at the same time you know he’s not the kind of person to get stage fright. something is different this time. or, maybe it’s not. you’ve never actually seen him play in front of an audience. you don’t know him as well as you think you do, you have to constantly remind yourself every time your mind starts to wander and you let yourself daydream. after all, he doesn’t know anything about you, and he doesn’t seem to care enough to learn. neither should you.

the band opens with a song you’ve heard a thousand times, then another and another, pausing after every few songs to talk to the crowd. time seems to fly by around you, but everything moves in slow motion when you're looking at hansol. you study the way his hair falls in soft brown waves around his face, his head bobbing to the rhythm as he strums his guitar. it's one thing you've always enjoyed about watching him play; he always gets so lost in the music, and it's fascinating to watch. it's clearly on the list of things he's passionate about, and even if you aren't one of those things, at least you get to see him doing something he loves. 

you shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. you can't let yourself think like that. you're here to end things, not to reminisce. you shouldn't care if he likes music or not, that's not your problem anymore. he's not your problem anymore.

you zone out for a while, trying hard not to think about him but he's the only thing you can focus on. your eyes wander every once in a while, when you hear cheol's raspy voice in the mic or a particularly cool guitar riff from mingyu, but they always end up back at hansol.

they finish playing what you know is their last song, but the crowd is still bursting with electricity. it’s not long before everyone starts to chant, begging for one more song.

“encore?” seungcheol laughs into the mic, and flashes one of his signature dazzling smiles that sends the group of girls standing in front of you into hysterics. he glances over at hansol and nods. “mmm, yeah. i think we can do one more.”

you fold your arms over your chest. now is probably your best chance to leave. it’s not a very big venue, but from the amount of people here it’s obvious that there’ll be chaos once things are over as people start to file out. though most of them will probably be trying to fight their way to the front instead, giving wonwoo their phone numbers written on stained cocktail napkins and asking mingyu to sign their tits. but just as you’re about to start pushing your way back towards the exit, cheol’s deep voice makes you pause.

“we’re gonna play something real special tonight,” he says, making eye contact with hansol again. “something brand new, that we’ve never performed before. you guys wanna be the first to hear it?”

the room erupts into cheers again, and cheol grins. “yeah, i figured. so, i’m gonna let vernon explain this one. take it away, man.”

you stand still, arms crossed and curiosity piqued. maybe you can wait until after the last song. if this is going to be your last hurrah, then you might as well see it through til the end. just this once, and never again.

hansol clears his throat and looks out into the darkened theater. “this song is about a girl i’m in love with,” he starts. that gets a light laugh out of the crowd, a couple whistles and cheers, and he chuckles into the microphone before continuing. the words that have been brewing in your head for weeks seem to instantly melt on your tongue as his voice rings in your ears, echoing through your mind. that’s not you. that’s definitely not you.

“i hope she’s here tonight, but i wouldn’t blame her if she wasn’t. because i think i kind of fucked everything up.” he swallows, his eyes darting back and forth as he scans across the crowd, searching for something. searching for you? “so if she’s out there, i’m sorry. and i know this won’t make up for it, but i hope you like it anyway.”

the crowd cheers again, louder than they have all night, but the noise quickly dies down once hansol begins to play. the lights go dim, and the room fills with a soft melody from his guitar. the sound is unfamiliar, a song you haven’t heard before, and you realize he must’ve been working on it outside of the band’s usual practices. 

even if he isn’t talking about you, the song is beautiful. his guitar seems to sing every note that plays, and you can practically see the air around him shimmering with energy. the rest of the room seems to fade away, the audience that separates you suddenly disappearing. it’s like you’re the only two people around, sitting beside him as he plays just for you. 

he’s done that a few times, played you little snippets on his guitar. you can almost picture it now: it’s always right after he parks outside the bar, before you head inside together. he’ll unzip the case and pull his guitar from the backseat, positioning it on his lap. he comes up with a different reason every time; sometimes he’ll ask if the chords he’s been working on sound good together, sometimes he’ll tell you to listen to see if it needs tuning, sometimes he’ll say he just needs to practice this section a couple more times before giving up for the night and getting shitfaced with you off too many shots.

but you always see right through his flimsy excuses; obviously he’s doing it to show off, to impress you or something. but for the life of you, you’ve never been able to figure out why. why should he care about impressing you, if he doesn’t want to go any further with you?

and suddenly, as you stand in the back of the theater, watching his eyes sparkle under the lights and his fingers breeze over his guitar, looking more focused and frustrated and angry and sad and sorry than you’ve ever seen him look, now you finally have your answer.

you don’t want him to be talking about you. he shouldn’t be talking about you. you almost wish he would just be an asshole to you, give you a good reason to yell at him and cuss him out and tell him to fuck off, but he never does. sure, he’s a little dense to the not-so-subtle hints you’ve been trying to drop, but he’s always been good to you, even if it’s breaking your heart in the process. maybe you’ve been the dense one all along.

the show ends in a blur, and the lights come back on as people start to file out. there's cheers and more shouts for another encore, but it's clear the night is over. this is the part you've been dreading; even after days of convincing yourself, you're still not sure what you're going to do.

when the crowd finally clears out enough for you to move towards the stage, you can already see the group that’s formed around the members. cheol is off to one side, giving out autographs to whoever waves their napkins closest to him. mingyu’s helping wonwoo pack up his drum kit, smiling shyly at the girls calling his name and promising he’ll come back out to the lobby to meet them once he’s finished.

and then there’s hansol, looking flustered as people crowd around him, a deep blush in his cheeks as he waves his hands to try and get them to leave. you’re just far enough from his line of sight that you almost hesitate. it’s not too late to turn around. it’s not too late to leave before he can see you, to disappear from his life forever, but your heart won’t let you. 

you walk a little closer to the stage, hanging back behind the crowd of people, but he sees. his face lights up with relief, and even from a few feet away you can still see his eyes soften. he tells the people to move, more firmly with his words this time, and he hops down off the stage as they part to make room for him. when it’s clear his attention is no longer on them, they grumble and walk away, talking to their friends about the show and how hot all the members are and how they’re definitely planning on coming back the next time they perform.

hansol reaches you in a couple of strides, stopping just in front of you. he stays silent for a second, his eyes roaming over you almost gratefully.

“hi,” he says finally, offering you a lopsided smile. he wipes his palms on his jeans nervously. “you came.”

you bite your lip for a second before you nod. “i did.”

“so you’re— did you— were you here for the end of the show?” he asks, trying to hide the stutter in his words. it’s cute how shy he is all of a sudden. it’s not like him to be shy like this. but then again, the only times you’ve seen him are when he’s playing with the guys or fucking your brains out while he's drunk, so it’s not like you’ve really gotten to know him. maybe he’s always been this shy and you were just too caught up in him to notice.

you know what he’s trying to say without outright saying it. obviously you were there the whole time, a fact you aren’t the proudest of, but you aren’t about to let him know that. “i heard your song,” you finally settle on, cutting straight to the point.

his face goes through about a hundred emotions in the span of a second, from surprised to happy then right back to shy again. “yeah?”

even though most of the room has cleared out by now, he starts walking as he talks, pulling you through the side door into the quieter backstage area. you follow him around the corner until you reach a private room, a wrinkled sheet of paper taped to the door with his name written in sharpie. his guitar case that you've seen so many times lies open on the floor, his backpack slumped against one wall.

“i liked it.”

he exhales in relief as he turns back around to face you, and you can almost see his whole body relax. “i'm so fucking sorry,” he says, nearly stumbling over his words with how fast he tries to get them out. “i've been really, really stupid. the way i left you the other night… i shouldn't have let you go like that. i regretted it the second you left.”

you purse your lips as you listen. you can tell he really means it, and it's getting harder and harder to stay mad at him. but you can't let him off that easy, not after how long you've been going through this.

“i just don't understand what it is you want, hansol. you treat me like— i don't know, like nothing.” you pause and chew on the inside of your cheek for a second, letting your words sink in. “and then out of the blue you beg me to come to your show, and you play this really sweet, heartfelt song, so how the hell am i supposed to take that?”

he winces, but the wounded look on his face doesn't feel as satisfying as you'd hoped it would. “i know. i'm just… i'm bad with words. i'm better at music.” he sighs. “but that's not an excuse. i didn't ever wanna make you feel like that, not on purpose. i just got scared. but i shouldn't have.”

you stand silently, waiting. clearly, there's more on his mind. he stuffs his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, shifting from one foot to the other. 

“i love the way you laugh. i love the way you watch me when i'm playing and it makes me feel like the only person in the whole world. i love the way you smile when you're drunk and the way you kiss me. and it was stupid of me to ever think i didn't want that all the time.” he lifts his gaze to meet your eyes, the fear in his expression more obvious than anything you've ever seen before.

you let out a breath, your voice dropping almost to a whisper. “you should've just said that.”

“i should've,” he agrees.

you offer him a tight-lipped smile, trying to keep yourself together. this is not how you thought tonight would go. you didn't even think you'd talk to him, and if you did, you thought it would be a shouting match, screaming and cursing before angrily storming out of the venue, finally feeling vindicated after all this time. yet here you are, standing quietly in front of him and trying not to cry.

he waits for a second, trying to gauge your reaction before he continues. “you're, like, my best friend,” he says, adding a nervous little chuckle to lighten the mood. “i think about you every time i play or whenever i try to write something. it's always about you. you don't know how much i look forward to thursday practices and getting to see you.”

now it's your turn to laugh. “you literally could've just texted me and i probably would've dropped everything to be there, anytime.”

he grins, his smile a little wider this time. “yeah, i know. i tried, the other day when i invited you. that was scary as shit.”

he looks up at you again, his soft brown eyes and long eyelashes shining even under the dim flickering bulb overhead. “i'm really glad you came tonight, though. i wasn't expecting you to, but i really hoped you would.” he offers you another nervous smile. “will you let me try again?”

you don't answer right away, and the look of nervousness starts to seep back into his features. “i promise i—”

but you cut him off, pulling him in by his shoulders and pressing your lips against his. he falters for just a second but his arms immediately wrap around your waist, tilting his head to lean into the kiss, and somehow that one little action feels more natural than anything you've ever done together.

you slide your tongue against his lips, and he lets out a groan into your mouth before he pulls back to breathe. “is that a yes?”

you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes and laugh, but instead you just nod. “yes.”

you definitely didn't come here tonight expecting to get laid. in fact, the last thing you ever thought you'd do is sleep with hansol again. but all of that feels like a distant memory as you head out of the community theater together, his guitar case over his shoulder, walking hand in hand towards his car.

the routine is familiar, but nothing is the same. you're not drunk, you're not in the parking lot of a cheap bar, and you don't feel lonely anymore. 

he unlocks the doors and you start to climb into the backseat, but he lets out a little noise and shakes his head, and you look up at him in confusion. 

“we're going back to my place. or yours, if you want.” he reaches down to offer his hand and help you out of the car. “i said i was gonna do it right this time, didn't i?”

by the time you get back to your apartment, your stomach is in knots in the very best way. your hands shake as you fumble with your keys, and if you weren’t so on edge it would have almost made you laugh, the way hansol looks away and pretends not to notice. you're more alike than you thought, and suddenly you're overcome with a feeling of excitement. now you get to discover all these little things about him: things you didn't allow yourself to see before, things he wants to show you and tell you and share with you. 

you try not to let the awkwardness seep back in, but you pause outside your bedroom door, almost as if you're waiting for hansol to tell you what to do. in just one night he's turned your life on its head, and now you're at a loss.

so he takes it as a sign and kisses you, his hands finding your waist and slowly trailing up your body until he's cupping your chin. it's different from all the other times he's kissed you. it's not just the fiery passion you're used to when you can tell he's worked up, but there's a hint of uncertainty in it, more similar to the kisses he gives you afterwards when you're trying to figure out whether to ask for a ride home or not. and then, the pieces finally settle into place and you realize he wasn't kissing you like that because he didn't want you; he was kissing you like that because he did.

you pull away and he freezes a little, and you can tell from the worried look in his eyes that he thinks he's gone too far. “relax,” you laugh softly, your forearms still resting on his shoulders. 

he complies, but his eyes still dart across your face in nervousness. despite how badly he wants you, how badly he needs to prove himself to you, there's clearly still so much that needs to be discussed before you can move forward, things that've been left unsaid for far too long.

you inhale and look up into his eyes, trying to find what emotion is hidden there. “what do you want, hansol?”  

“want you to be my girlfriend,” he breathes out without hesitating. if it were any other time and place you might've thought he was joking, but you can tell he's dead serious.

“i—” whatever words you had ready instantly die in your throat, not expecting such a genuine answer. “yes. but i meant, like, right now. what do you want, right now.”

his expression shifts in understanding and he grins, though it's still shy. “oh. well…” he pauses again to think. “what do you want me to do?”

you watch his eyes carefully for a moment before you reply. you've wanted him to do a lot of things. you wanted him to be better, you wanted him to be worse. you wanted him to do anything besides being stuck in this weird limbo of friend-zoned friends with benefits. but now that the choice is up to you… you don't want any of that.

“i want you to be honest,” you start softly, almost shy to say it, but you know it needs to be said. “i want you to tell me how you feel. because i can't lie, you really fucked up. i shouldn't have given you so many chances.” he winces at that, but you brush your thumb along his cheek and pull his attention back to you. “but i did. so you need to earn my trust again. and i just want you to not be so afraid anymore.”

he stays silent for a long moment before he nods, as if he's seriously considering your words. “i know,” he says finally. his voice is quieter now, barely above a whisper. “i'm sorry. you're gonna get so fucking sick of hearing me say how sorry i am, but i'm not gonna stop saying it.”

you want to laugh, but his tone is so serious that you know you shouldn't, so you keep a straight face and ask him again. “so… what do you want?”

he lets out a sigh, still holding you face in his hands. “shit, everything. but, first— i really wanna taste you. can… can i?”

you take a step backwards into the bedroom and he follows, tearing off clothes one by one in a hurry until you're both left with just underwear. with the limited space in his car you've never actually been fully naked together before, and the thought of him seeing you is both terrifying and exhilarating. 

he leans you down onto the bed and you pull him down with you. he falls beside you, pausing to kiss you once more before rolling off the bed and onto his knees, holding your legs in front of him as he stares up at you.

it's the kind of image that could drive a woman mad. you didn't think he was capable of being this patient, but it seems he's full of surprises tonight. “yes,” you breathe out and finally give him an answer. your eyes are locked onto his, a silent conversation happening between you in the span of a second.

he clears his throat and slowly pries your legs apart, pulling his gaze away from your face to stare between your thighs instead.

“god, this pussy…” he groans in delight as he settles your legs over his shoulders, his gaze transfixed on the wet spot at the seat of your panties.

he slides his palms up your thighs, and for his sake you pretend not to notice the way his fingers are shaking just a little. you lift your hips to encourage him, and he slips his long fingers beneath the hem of your panties before pulling them down, taking his time to slide them off and toss them on the floor behind him.

his hands immediately come back up to your thighs, using his thumbs to press your legs apart to give him a better view.

“so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles to no one but himself. it's like he's in a trance, admiring the dripping mess between your legs like it's about to be his last meal. if he hadn't been so enthusiastic, you might've been embarrassed at the electric shiver that runs through you from his praise. but when there's a man this hot in front of you, kneeling and staring up at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life, it's hard to feel embarrassed for long.

he leans in and presses a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your clit, and you nearly jump out of your skin at the feeling. he's never been incredibly rough with you before, but he’s never been this gentle, either. he's touching you so delicately, like a statue at a museum that he's not sure yet if he's allowed to touch or not.

your reaction spurs him on, and he leans in further to flatten his tongue against your entrance and gives a long, slow lick. your hips lift automatically, trying to push him closer and add more pressure.

he curls his tongue through your folds before pulling away, his hands coming up to rest on your hip bones and hold you down. “even better than i imagined,” he groans, looking up at you from his spot on the floor, and the image of him down there makes you so dizzy that you have to lay back down against the bed again.

“more,” you whimper desperately. in the back of your mind there's a distant feeling of shyness at how demanding you're being, but you don't think twice about it. after everything he put you through, he still needs to prove himself to you, that he's not going to break your heart again. but he's doing a damn good job so far. “vernon— ah, fuck!”

“mm, anything.” he presses a kiss against the soft skin on inside of your thigh. “anything you want, baby.”

you don't even have time to process the nickname before he's diving back in, his lips wrapped around your clit as he sucks at you. you let out a strangled noise of surprise, your hand instantly flying down to hold his head.

your fingers tangle in his hair, his tongue so deep in your pussy that you're already gasping and writhing under his touch. you can't tell which one of you has been more stupid for not letting this happen sooner, because it almost seems like he's enjoying this more than you are.

the coil in your stomach already feels like it's about to burst, pent up with white-hot energy that feels hotter than the sun. it hardly takes a few more pointed laps of his tongue before you fall apart into his mouth, whimpering and groaning and begging shamelessly for him. 

“you called me vernon,” he says when you finally manage to push his head away, shivering with overwhelming sensitivity. he lifts one hand to wipe at his chin, way too nonchalant after everything he just did.

you're still fighting through the haze of your orgasm but his words bring you back down to earth, and your face fills with heat. “huh? sorry, i—”

“everybody calls me vernon,” he says as he shakes his head, quickly cutting you off. he stands up and moves onto the bed, flopping down beside you. “i liked that you always called me hansol. made it feel special.”

your eyes follow his movements, still laying on your back as you catch your breath. “but…?”

he grins, and you swear there's a hint of blush in his cheeks. “but that was really sexy when you called me vernon. it sounds way cooler when it's coming from you.”

all you can do is laugh, letting your eyes close as you rest your hands on your stomach. “noted,” you giggle. “so should i do it more, then?”

he hums in thought, rolling over onto his side so that he's closer to you. “you can do whatever you want, baby.”

that nickname again. he's already started leaning in to kiss you again, but you grab his shoulders and pull him down to meet him halfway. there's a bitterness on his tongue that you'd almost forgotten about, but you're quickly reminded once you feel his hand sliding across your stomach and down back between your legs. you let out a surprised but happy moan into his mouth, one of your hands moving to the back of his head to kiss him harder.

your legs part, accepting the warmth of his palm as he gently presses it against your sensitive clit. he holds his hand there for just a moment, pausing his movements as he kisses you, eagerly swallowing the whimpers and sounds you give him in return.

after a minute he shifts his hand, carefully pressing his index and middle finger into you. you're right up at the edge again already, clenching down hard around his fingers as he sets a slow pace, pulling them out halfway before thrusting them in deeper than before. you're seeing stars, releasing a constant stream of muffled moans into his lips as he curls his fingers inside you. he follows the rhythm of your hips as you rut against his palm, letting the movement force his fingers even deeper.

his fingers are dripping with your juices, down his knuckles and pooling in his palm, but it only makes him want to fuck you even more. it's not like this is the first time he's fingered you. the guys at the auto shop down the street know him all too well, from the amount of times he's had to take his car in to get the seats cleaned. he always claims that it's because he's a messy eater, and while that's true in some ways, he knows those guys don't buy it for a fucking second.

his fingers are completely buried inside you but he never stops kissing you, breathing almost as heavily as you are. he stops thrusting his fingers and adjusts his hand once more, pressing his thumb against your clit to rub lazy circles over it. 

“ver—vern— fuck, hansol!” you finally manage to pull away from his lips, nearly gasping for air as another orgasm rips through you. his other hand slides down your body and it feels like the first time you've ever been touched, his palm so warm and tender against your skin that it somehow makes your high even better. you're shaking in his arms, lips parted in a soundless moan as you clench wildly around his fingers, but he just holds you tighter against his body and keeps pressing kisses along your jaw.

his lips are wet with both spit and slick as he watches you, his eyes filled with stars. usually when you're together, in the dark backseat of his car illuminated only by the moonlight and nearby streetlamps, it's hard to make out the details. it's dark, and everything is fuzzy from both the alcohol and the late hour. but now, he's realizing how stupid he was for never letting this happen sooner. he could've ended up going his whole life without ever seeing you like this, laying completely fucked out under the soft light in your bedroom, your pupils wide and eyes watery and so, so beautiful.

he waits until you've calmed down again, leaning away to give you a little space, but your hand shoots out to grab his wrist and keep him close to you and he can't help but smile. when you open your eyes you're expecting to find a cocky smirk, to see how proud of himself he is for having you in the palm of his hand so easily, but it's not there. just that soft smile.

“now. what do you want?” he says. “i should be asking you that way more often.”

“want you inside,” you pant out. “now. please? i— i missed you.” you shouldn't have said the last part out loud, but at this point you don't care anymore. all your cards are out on the table.

his eyes widen a little at your boldness, but he bites his lip and nods. he can't lie and say he wasn't secretly hoping you'd say that, but he'd be just as happy to sit here on the floor and eat you out over and over and over again. he'd do anything you want at this point, and not just because he feels like he owes you. he does, but it's deeper than that. it's a different kind of feeling, one that makes him want to do cheesy shit like lay his jacket over puddles for you and buy an airplane to write your name in the sky.

as he starts to position himself between your legs on the bed, you watch his face. his expression is outwardly neutral, but little by little you've started to recognize the signs of his happiness. it looks good on him.

but your brain isn't content with that, not just yet. you swallow as a thought crosses your mind, and you can't push it down any longer.

“wait,” you say quietly, forcing the word out before you can reconsider. he stops immediately, his eyes searching your face for anything he can find, any sign that you've changed your mind about this.

“yeah?” he replies, his voice just as quiet, as if he's afraid to speak too loudly and break the tension of this moment.

you clear your throat as best you can manage, though it's kind of starting to get sore from how much and how loudly you've been moaning all night. “just curious,” you start, nervousness suddenly starting to creep in. but tonight is for being honest, and you can handle the truth. probably.

“before, while we were together— well, it doesn't really count as being ‘together’ but you know what i mean.” you pause again, chewing your lip. “did you ever… y'know. was there ever anybody else?”

hansol exhales, still hovering over you. “no. unless you count lotion and my hand, ‘cause there was a lot of that.” your eyes soften and you visibly relax at his words, and he mentally kicks himself for ever making you even think that was the case. that there would ever be anyone else for him but you. “i know i was stupid, but i'm not that stupid.”

“okay.” you pause again, trying to figure out how to get back on track. “sorry, i just wanted to know. i don't care.”

he scoffs, but his tone is more melancholy than angry. he shifts on top of you so he can rest on his elbows, getting closer and brushing his hand over your hair. “you should care. if i had, i would've given you full permission to lay into me, cuss me out, whatever. i would've deserved it. you don't deserve that.”

“i wanted to, trust me.” you sigh. “but you're too nice to me. i thought…” you chew on your lip, eyes searching his as you try to figure out what to say. “…i don't know what i was thinking.”

“i don't think i'm anywhere near ‘too nice’,” hansol laughs. the sincerity in his expression almost makes you feel better. “i'm the luckiest dude on the planet that you didn't decide to, like, slash the tires on my car and egg my house or something instead. i really wouldn't have blamed you if you did.”

“maybe i should then, next time,” you say, a smile creeping onto your face.

he shakes his head. “there won't be a next time.”

the room goes quiet and you stare at each other for a second, letting his words sink in. you can tell he's being lighthearted, but he's not even trying to hide the sincerity behind his words.

“you can… continue now,” you say after a tense moment, breaking the silence. the tension in the room is thick but it's not uncomfortable, slowly but surely melting into a lust that's deeper than any of the times you've been drunk and horny in his car.

he nods, and he reaches down to brush your hair back behind your ear before his hands slide down your body. he seems so hesitant to let go of you, but finally he lifts one hand to grip his cock and position himself at your entrance. he braces his other hand against your hip, shivering as he brushes the tip of his cock up through your folds. fuck, he's not gonna last. 

after steeling his nerves as best he can and trying to convince himself not to bust the second he's inside you, he angles himself between your legs and starts to push in.

by some miracle he manages not to cum immediately, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to think about literally anything else but how fucking beautiful you are lying beneath him, but what actually happens instead might be worse.

hansol groans once he's fully inside, slowly splitting you open bit by bit until he bottoms out with his hips flush against yours. there are so many words on his tongue begging to spill out, but he can't think straight. holy shit, he can't even think about anything right now. why did he never say anything sooner? why did he waste so much time content with putting in the least amount of effort when he could've been having you like this all along?

“i love you,” he blurts out, and for a split second you think maybe this is all a dream and somehow you passed out at the show and hit your head so hard you started hallucinating this. but then his eyes widen and he winces in that way you've started to recognize, and you almost laugh because now you know it's real.

“shit, i don't know why i said that. i'm sorry. fuck, i'm sorry,” he groans and hangs his head, but despite his embarrassment you can still feel every inch of his dick twitching inside you and it feels way too good to ignore. “you don't have to say it back. i know it's way too soon—”

“did you mean it?”

“what?”

“did you mean it?” you repeat. his attention pulls back to you, a confused yet hopeful look in his eyes that makes your heart warm.

he clears his throat, obviously trying to hide the pink spreading across his cheeks. “yeah. i think i did. and not just because you have the best pussy ever.”

“are you sure? because that's what it sounds like to me,” you tease and try to roll your eyes, but his words make you clench involuntarily around him and he curses under his breath.

“fuck— yes, i’m very sure, i meant it and i'll keep saying it forever if you'll let me.” he lets out a groan, both hands now firmly planted on your waist. “but, god, please let me fuck you now. i'm trying so goddamn hard to hold back and i'll gladly go for another round later but i'm trying to make it up to you right now and it's gonna completely ruin it if i cum in, like, five seconds.”

you can't help your laughter in that moment so all you can do is nod, lifting your hips a little to try and get him going. and he takes the hint, pulling halfway out of you before slamming back in, a loud, deep string of groans leaving his lips.

his pace starts out frantic but he quickly calms himself down, stabilizing himself through his grip on your waist and pulling you to meet his thrusts. he snaps his hips into you at a smooth pace, his cock dragging against your walls with each stroke in a way that has you clawing at his wrists for support as he holds onto you.

hansol may be bad at relationships, but he's never been bad at sex. even on a good day it really doesn't take much to have you seeing stars, but this is different. this is desperate, determined, thankful, and hopeful all wrapped into one movement, sliding in and out of you with a passion you've only ever seen when he's playing guitar. 

“ha— ngh— hansol!” despite your efforts to keep it steady, your voice still comes out broken, his name escaping your lips as easily as breathing. you roll your head back against the pillow, and you're suddenly even more grateful that you're at home in your bed instead of alone in a parking lot. this is so much better, better than you could've dreamed.

“fuck, you always take my cock so good,” hansol groans as he leans forward and buries his face in your chest. “i should’ve been telling you that every single time, how good you are. so fucking good.”

the way he fucks you is strangely tender, in a way you're not sure you've ever felt before. it's rough, but somehow in a gentle way. he's taking you apart piece by piece and putting you back together with his hands, his kisses, his touch. none of the times before have ever come close to this. 

maybe it's the feeling of a mattress beneath your back instead of a hard plastic seat, or maybe it's the promises hanging in the air between you that makes this time feel brand new. maybe you're just too caught up in the moment to think straight, but for the first time it finally feels like a fresh start. this time is different.

“baby, please, one more for me,” he moans into your skin as his hips begin to grow weary, his breath hot against your chest. “‘m not gonna last much longer— fuck, cum for me one more time, baby. god, you're so perfect. please, let me make you cum.”

at this point he's rambling, almost as far gone as you are, but it's like he doesn't even need to ask. as soon as the words leave his mouth you feel the familiar sensation starting to build again, burning hotter and quicker than before. you almost start to panic because you can't even tell if you have another one left in you, but you look up and meet his eyes one last time and suddenly a wave of calm washes over you at the sight of his soft brown eyes filled with way more love than you're expecting to find there.

you don't even have time to tell him when it hits you one more time, you just grab him and hang on tight as your high tears through you. you struggle to lift your legs and wrap them around his back, pulling him in even closer to you as your walls flutter uncontrollably around him. he invades your senses and you can feel him everywhere, and you can only hope he feels the way you do.

but it's obvious that he does, because “ah, shit—” is the last thing you hear before he pulls out, barely managing to get back in time before he spills all over your stomach, your thighs, your pussy, the sheets. it's everywhere, and neither of you care. his hands are still on you gripping your waist tightly like he can't bear to let go, his cock pulsing limply as it rests against your stomach. rope after rope of thick white floods over your skin, and yet it's like he barely even notices because he's so busy repeating your name, praising you again and again in between swears and shaky moans.

you're panting, your hands shaking as you reach for him, but he's already right there. he's breathing heavily himself as he drops down on the bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and burying his head in the crook of your neck. 

his weight half leaning against you is grounding, and eventually you feel your heart starting to return to normal as you become aware of the sticky puddle of sweat and cum that you're both laying in. but you just close your eyes and rest, focusing on his body warmth and his palm holding your side and the tickle of air coming from his nose as he breathes against you, and you realize nothing, no feeling in the world, has ever felt better than this.

when he reluctantly pulls himself away from your body to go look for a towel, you already know there's no question about whether or not he's staying over tonight.

once he's done cleaning you off he lifts you up into his arms, laughing and nuzzling his nose into your neck as he sets you down at your desk chair to start stripping the mess of sheets off your bed, and in that moment you can't help but think how lucky you are. he keeps saying that he's the lucky one for letting him have a second chance, but you're lucky in a lot of ways, too. lucky that it turned out he wasn't as much of an idiot as you’d thought. lucky that your heart wouldn't let you give up on him, no matter how hard you tried. lucky that after everything, hope still works sometimes.

after stumbling around your room, tossing blankets and sheets around and looking the happiest you've ever seen him, you're finally settled down together and you're back where you've always belonged, laying in his arms. it's so late that the sun is probably coming up soon and you're exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of a night, but you couldn't care less about what happens next because everything finally feels right.

hansol sighs, his arm curled a little awkwardly around your shoulders as he twirls a lock of your hair between his fingers. “can… we not do this anymore?” he asks finally. 

his voice is quiet; not shy or uncertain, just quiet. it's different than what you're used to with him. usually when you're around him everything is loud, it's fast and messy and jumbled, a whirlwind of a night followed by heartache and a pounding headache in the morning. but now he's just… quiet. all the thoughts that normally rush through your head are gone, leaving nothing but silence.

you swallow, confused. although you've already talked out all your worries, you can't help the uncertain feeling that starts to return. “what do you mean? like, right now?”

he exhales like he's thinking, and his fingers pause in your hair. “like… i don't know. i want things to be good between us. whatever we were doing before— anything but that. no more not talking about stuff. no more tension. y'know? i promise.”

“mmm.” you hum, letting his words sink in for a while. you drum your fingers absently against his chest, almost trying to make sure he's still there. “yeah. i think… i think things are good between us now.” you giggle, leaning your head against his chest. “as long as you don't pull that shit again.”

he laughs, reaching up to grab your hand off his chest and hold it there. “oh, yeah, i know. you're way too good to me for even giving me another chance. i'm so sorry i almost fucked it all up.”

“you don't have to say that anymore.”

“well like i said, babe, i'm going to—”

“you can just keep saying ‘i love you’ instead.” you interrupt, squeezing his hand in yours.

he stops short in the middle of his sentence, caught in surprise, but as soon as your words register a grin slowly begins to make its way across his face. “cool. then… i love you.”

© junkissed 2024. do not repost or translate. ── ⊹ ˙ . 𖥻 want to be notified when i post new fics? join my taglist!

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[glossdebut]

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ 02

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SERIES SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you.

✧ SERIES TAGS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fake/pretend relationship (not main couple), rockstar!yoongi, model!reader, guitarist yoongi, singer jungkook, bassist taehyung, drummer jimin, manager namjoon, yoongi & maknae line are in a rock band, reader & seokjin are best friends, yoongi & hoseok are best friends (sope duo ftw), yoongi has a tongue piercing, reader is a brat

✧ CHAPTER WARNINGS: aqua uses her journalism degree to write a fake article, lots of yoongi pov, MC lore drop, extremely brief descriptions of sexual acts, some questions are answered but not many, sope cameo! also seokjin cameo! do you detect a hint of hyyh yoonkook-ism? because you should! EVENTS TRANSPIRE! (see series masterlist for series warnings)

✧ CHAPTER WORDCOUNT: 5.2k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: damn i always drop early don't i? here's a pre-holiday gift for those of you who celebrate thanksgiving. thank you to tanni @yooniivrse for beta reading SO FUCKING FAST LOL <3

p.s. from here on out updates are going to be much slower. we’re getting to the Real Plot now and i have to use my brain a little bit more. plus i want to make time to write other, shorter things! so be sure to check out my other fics if waiting for this becomes unbearable lol

CH. 02: A HIT IS HARD TO RESIST

Love in the Spotlight: Is "Burn The Stage" Singer Falling for a Scandal Magnet?

It’s the love story that’s rocking Seoul—and leaving fans divided. Jeon Jeongguk, the smooth-talking, chart-topping frontman of “Burn The Stage,” has been the subject of intense speculation after rumors surfaced that he’s been secretly seeing one of South Korea’s most talked about models, YLN YN. And while Jeongguk’s millions of fans would do anything to claim him as their own, it’s YN’s wild reputation that’s making this relationship one to watch.

The dating rumors of the two surfaced online when YN was seen on the balcony at Wasteland during the final show of the Burn The Stage’s world tour. Eyewitnesses claim that after the show, the two were spotted backstage together, sharing a private moment.

While Jeongguk’s image has been polished and pristine despite his rock star persona, YN’s name is frequently linked with controversy. From a string of public feuds with fellow influencers to rumors of reckless behavior, she has garnered a reputation for attracting scandal wherever she goes—a trait at odds with what fans have seen from Jeongguk. So what could possibly draw the two together?

Some fans are already sounding the alarm, warning Jeongguk that dating someone like YN could tarnish his squeaky-clean image.

“I don’t know why Jeongguk would choose her,” one concerned fan commented on Instagram. “She’s trouble, and he’s too good for her. His image will be ruined if this is true.”

Despite the criticism, others are rallying behind the couple, suggesting that Jeongguk may be the one to help YN change her ways. “Everyone has a past,” one fan posted on X (formerly known as Twitter). “Maybe Jeongguk sees something in her that no one else does. People can grow and evolve.”

While neither Jeongguk or YN’s companies have released an official statement on the matter, YN hasn’t been shy about fueling the rumors. In a recent post on her Instagram, she shared a photo of herself wearing a Burn The Stage hoodie, captioning it, “i guess i’ve got good taste 👀” which has sent fans into overdrive speculating that she’s sending a not-so-subtle message about her relationship with Jeongguk.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Yoongi groans to himself. He can’t read any more of this drivel. The wooden table in front of him suddenly looks all too inviting, perfect for him to bash his skull into.

You’re everywhere, completely inescapable for the past week. Apparently, Yoongi’s bi-weekly breakfast with Hoseok is no exception. The first one they’ve been able to have since the tour, too. God forbid he wants to mindlessly scroll on his phone for a second while he waits for his friend to return, because there you are, taunting him. 

After the concert, Yoongi had been so annoyed by seeing you again. Pissed off at the circumstances. Ready to do anything in his power to extricate you from Jeongguk as fast as possible.

The past week has dulled his rage considerably. The endorphins of playing live have died, as have the potent emotions that come with them. Yoongi’s logical adult brain has set in, leaving him with only a headache.

“Woah,” Hoseok says, snorting as he slides a coffee into Yoongi’s field of vision. He slips into the booth across from him, taking a sip from his own cup with an amused look on his face. “You look much more homicidal than I left you. What could’ve possibly pissed you off in the last five minutes?”

Wordlessly, Yoongi hands Hoseok his phone, the article still displayed on the screen. Hoseok silently reads the first few paragraphs, and when he scrolls back up to look at the photo attached, his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Oh?” he says, zooming in on your face. On Yoongi’s phone. The audacity. “This is the Innisfree girl, right? She’s dating Jeongguk?”

“Allegedly.”

“Is her skin really that nice in person?”

“Not the point,” Yoongi hisses, snatching his phone back from Hoseok’s grip and hastily closing the article to get your dumb face off of his phone. Dumb, poreless face.

“Okay, touchy,” Hoseok says, raising his hands in surrender. “Please explain the point.”

“I don’t trust her,” Yoongi says, tapping his foot under the table. “The relationship is bogus. She’s after something, I just can’t figure out what it is.”

“And you’re basing this on…?”

“Intuition,” Yoongi says flatly.

“Right. Because your intuition is never wrong,” Hoseok says, tone laden with sarcasm. “Need I remind you that you weren’t the biggest fan of me when we met?”

“I thought you were annoying,” Yoongi agrees. He takes a sip of his coffee to mask a smirk. “Who says I was wrong about that?”

“I’d probably be hurt if you hadn’t essentially bought us couple rings last year,” Hoseok says, waggling his eyebrows. “You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

“Aish, they weren’t couple rings,” Yoongi complains. “Stop saying that. The wrong person is going to hear you and think it’s true.”

“Your ears are pink!” Hoseok exclaims triumphantly, pointing at the evidence. “Your mouth says one thing, but your ears always give you away.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Yoongi grumbles, pulling his beanie down. “Stop changing the subject.”

“Right, right. Sorry, hyung, you’re just so easy to tease,” Hoseok says, not even bothering to stifle his snickering. The bastard. “Jeonggukie’s new lady love. Go. Wait, do you want to fuck her?”

“What?” Yoongi sputters, eyes widening because what the fuck? “No—what? Look, it’s not just intuition, okay? I’m right about her. And you saw what the article said—drama follows her wherever she goes. Maybe she thinks dating Jeongguk will rehabilitate her image, or something like that.”

Yoongi had been so confident that wasn’t the case, since you’ve maintained all of your brand deals even in the midst of your many scandals, but maybe he was wrong. He still doesn’t know why you’re doing this, and it’s like the closer he gets, the less he can see.

“I don’t know,” Yoongi groans, rubbing his hands over his face. “She’s also just a bitch.”

“Okay,” Hoseok concedes, crossing his arms. “If you say so. She’s a bitch who you don’t want to fuck. What are you going to do about it?”

Yoongi shrugs. “I have that dinner tomorrow night. I was thinking of talking to Jeongguk after or something.”

“And telling him that his girlfriend is the devil? I’m sure that’ll go over well.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Yoongi sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jeongguk is a stubborn kid, but he knows I wouldn’t ruin something good for him. If I word it right, maybe he’ll listen.”

“You’re not wrong. For whatever reason, Jeongguk trusts your judgement.”

Yoongi glares at him. “Go fuck yourself, Hob-ah.”

“Whatever, hyung,” Hoseok says, rolling his eyes. “Let’s talk about something else, please. I haven’t seen you in months.”

Yoongi relents easily. He doesn’t really want to be talking about you either, not when it feels like an ice pick is being jammed into his temple. 

He’ll just have to figure out what to say to Jeongguk later.

★ ★ ★

“Wow,” Seokjin says around a mouthful of jjapaguri. “He really hates you, huh?”

He’s fresh out of a long shift at the hospital, but he still headed straight to your apartment at the promise of food and celebrity gossip—his two biggest weaknesses, especially when the food doesn’t have to be made by him and the celebrity is you.

“Seems like it,” you sigh, using your chopsticks to push your noodles around aimlessly. “Normally I wouldn’t care, you know? Like, get in line, asshole.”

“But you care.”

“But I care.”

“Because of Jeongguk,” Seokjin says knowingly.

You drop your chopsticks and groan, stifling the sound by covering your face with your hands.

“Yes,” you concede. “But not because of that. I just want to help him, you know? He got me through a really rough spot last year. I’d feel like shit if I agreed to do this for him and then it ended up blowing up in our faces because of me.”

“Mmm,” Seokjin hums, chewing thoughtfully. “I’m sure the fact that you’re in love with him is a big motivator, though.”

You pick up your head, glaring at him. “Love is a big word, Jin.”

A very big word, you think, picking up your glass of wine to take a long gulp. God help you.

“A fitting one, too!” he says gleefully. “Come oooon. No judgement here. He’s hot. Not as hot as me, of course, but I have to give credit where credit is due.”

“Yes, you’re a god among men,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. “I don’t love Jeongguk. Not like that, at least. Do I need to remind you of the whole reason I’m doing this in the first place?”

“Yeah, yeah, the secret girlfriend,” Seokjin says, waving a hand dismissively. “Whatever. You’re spending a lot of time with him, is all I’m saying. The tides may turn in your favor.”

Wow, and you thought you were delusional.

“Fat chance,” you deadpan, polishing off your wine. “Especially if Yoongi is as persistent as he’s making himself out to be.”

“What’s his beef with you, anyway?” Seokjin asks, snorting to himself as he picks up a piece of steak with his chopsticks. Hilarious. “I feel like he’s going a little far for it to just be protectiveness, you know?”

Right. When you’d given Seokjin the rundown via text, you’d left one pretty substantial piece of information out.

“He said, um,” you start, picking at one of your nails nervously—a habit that Hyerin would smack you on the back of the head for, if she were here. “He said that he knows… more than I think.”

Just like that, all of the humor drains from Seokjin’s expression. “Meaning…?”

“I don’t know,” you say, your voice wobbling just a bit. “I don’t know, but if it does mean that… It makes the idea of rolling over and doing what he says pretty enticing, not gonna lie.”

“Fuck that,” Seokjin says firmly, your eyes widening in response. “If he’s the type of guy to use something like that as blackmail, then he’s a piece of shit. I don’t care if he is trying to protect Jeongguk.”

“He can’t know, though,” you groan, fully resting your head on the cool marble of your kitchen countertop now. 

You’ve been wracking your brain for days now, trying to figure out if it’s even possible for Yoongi to know anything. You’re pretty confident the answer is no, but there’s no way to be one-hundred percent sure without confirmation from the man himself. And you’d honestly rather die.

“Nobody knows except the people involved and you. You’re the only one who didn’t sign an NDA, and I’m pretty confident you’ve never met Min Yoongi. Not to mention you just wouldn’t—”

“Share that information? Hell no, I wouldn’t,” Seokjin interrupts, scoffing. “Okay, well… Regardless of whether he knows anything, he honestly just sounds like a dick and I think you should kill him.”

You snort, lifting your eyes to look at him from where your head rests on the counter. “Maybe that can be plan B,” you offer.

“Fine, then what’s the plan A?” Seokjin counters, crossing his arms and raising a conspiratorial eyebrow at you.

Fantastic question, one you’ve been thinking about the answer to since you abruptly left the afterparty that night. It’s not like you can tell Jeongguk what’s going on and risk having to tell him the whole truth. You trust Jeongguk, but…

No, it’s not an option. You don’t want anyone else to know. So, if Yoongi’s going to insist on being a problem for you, you might as well return the favor. It’s only fair.

You grin, lifting your head and leaning closer to Seokjin.

“I’m going to make his life a living hell.”

★ ★ ★

Yoongi hasn’t touched a cigarette since he was twenty one years old.

He picked up the nasty habit at sixteen, when one of his friends doled out African Ice Jacks amongst the group, bragging that his hyung had bought the pack for him. As soon as the lighter was flicked on and the bittersweet taste of bubblegum and tobacco filled Yoongi’s lungs, he was hooked.

It was stupidly easy to get his hands on cigarettes before he was of legal age, even when his friend’s hyung couldn’t supply them for whatever reason. All of the adults around him smoked, including his parents. 

It felt as though cigarettes were an extension of his hand, felt wrong when he didn’t have the option to light one up. During school hours, Yoongi’s fingers would twitch on his desk as he waited for his last class to end.

He was a fucking anxious, wound-up kid. Smoking was the only thing that helped, sometimes. If he had a shit day, at least he could have a cigarette.

When the band got signed, though, things changed. Despite the fact that the majority of the population in Korea smoked, celebrities were vilified for it in the media. For whatever fucking reason. Yoongi didn’t care much what the media had to say about him, but he reasoned that it would be pretty stupid to let his dream die over Ice Jacks. So he quit.

It was hard at first, but it’s been five years now. After so much time, it’s rare that cigarettes even cross his mind, even when others smoke around him.

Sitting across the table from you now, though, Yoongi’s fingers twitch just like they had when he was in grade school staring at a clock.

He and the band started frequenting Yoojung Sikdang long before there was any real hope for fame. It was their chosen spot after every practice. The ajumma who owns it knows their names, remembers their orders by heart. Over the years, the only part of the restaurant that’s changed is their autographed photos on the wall. They’ve celebrated every single milestone here, big or small, just the five of them. Alone.

Wrapping up their first world tour should be no different. It’s their biggest milestone yet, and all Yoongi wanted was to eat ssambap with his best friends. Remind himself that none of the fame matters as long as they still have this.

But here you are. Of course. Encroaching on everything Yoongi’s built, everything he holds dear to his heart.

The only time it’s ever been more than the five of them here was the night they signed their contract, accompanied by two label executives. Even if you’re allegedly riding Jeongguk’s dick, no way are you that fucking important.

Yoongi would laugh if he wasn’t so pissed off. You are such a fucking pest. He just can’t shake you off.

“You don’t like what you ordered?” Jimin asks you, snapping Yoongi out of his thoughts.

Yoongi’s made an effort to keep to himself for the majority of the dinner. No use in ruining everyone else’s night—it’s still a special one, after all. Besides, he’s still trying to be an adult about things. You may have ruined his plan to talk to Jeongguk tonight, but it’s not like he’s going to cause a scene in front of a restaurant full of people—

“Oh, I’m just not very hungry,” you say. Yoongi’s eyes narrow.

All you’ve been doing all night is burrowing into Jeongguk’s side, barely touching your food. Lipgloss still perfectly in place. Normally, Yoongi wouldn’t care—he’s not paying for it. He wastes food on the label’s dime all the time. At Yoojung Sikdang, though?

“Why did you come, then?” 

The words come out of Yoongi’s mouth before he can stop them, sharp and pointed. He’d fully intended to keep his mouth shut, eat his food, and then go home. Maybe buy a pack on the way. But now they’re out there, and Yoongi can’t bring himself to care. Certainly not to feel bad.

For the first time since you’d walked in on Jeongguk’s arm, you make eye contact with him. On purpose this time—challenging. Yoongi’s not a little bitch, so he stares back. 

“Because Jeonggukie invited me,” you say, faux sweetness dripping from your words as you lean your head on Jeongguk’s shoulder. Eyes still fixed on Yoongi. “I figured it would be okay, since you all gave me such a warm welcome last time.”

Yeah. Yoongi’s buying that pack of cigarettes. 

“You’re always welcome to come out with us,” Taehyung coos, like he thinks you’re the cutest thing in the world. Knowing Taehyung, he probably does.

Everyone seems to be in agreement on that front, too, except Yoongi who rolls his eyes as he shoves a ssam into his mouth. Whatever.

“It’s gonna be hell getting you out of here, though,” Namjoon adds from Yoongi’s left. He leans over to glance at the crowd of people peering through the front of the restaurant, cameras at the ready, desperate to get a glimpse of you and Jeongguk. Not that you’re making it particularly hard.

“We’ve never had a crowd like that out there,” Jimin says, in awe. “I’m not surprised, though. Those articles about you two have been getting tons of clicks.”

“Ah,” you say. If Yoongi didn’t know better, he’d think you sound almost sheepish. “That, um. That might be my fault. I told my manager I was coming here. She must’ve tipped someone off.”

Of course.

“Anything for a photo-op, right?” Yoongi sneers, unable to help himself. It’s such an easy shot, after all. You’re being so transparent.

“Hyung,” Taehyung says, eyes wide as if he’s appalled. 

“I’m sorry, Yoongi-ssi,” you say, tilting your head at him. That little flash of a challenge is still in your eyes, and Yoongi doesn’t like it one bit. “Do you have a problem with me being here?”

Yoongi scoffs, sitting up. When he speaks, it’s laced with bitterness. “We just don’t normally come here with guests, that’s all. I guess I didn’t get the memo that that’d suddenly changed.”

“I invited her, hyung,” Jeongguk says. “She’s my girlfriend.” He wraps his arm around you protectively and, fuck, you’re good. You’re so good at making Yoongi look like the asshole.

“I get that, Guk-ah,” Yoongi tries, his voice considerably softer now. “But, come on… Here? And the mob outside, I mean… Do you really think that was just a harmless mistake?”

“What are you implying?” Jeongguk grits out. He’s angry now, that much is clear, and it’s Yoongi’s fault. 

You have him trapped. He’s surrounded by landmines, unable to come up with a single response that could possibly defuse them.

“Come on, guys,” Namjoon says, glancing at Yoongi pointedly. “We’re here to celebrate.”

“If Yoongi-ssi is uncomfortable that I’m here, maybe I should go,” you say, making to get up.

Jeongguk reaches for your arm, stopping you. “No,” he says. “Yoongi-hyung, you can either get over it and stay with us, or you can leave. You’re the only one who doesn’t want her here.”

Un-fucking-believable.

“Are you serious?” Yoongi scoffs, looking around at everyone. Is this really happening to him right now? This is his band!

The table is deadly silent. Everyone refuses to meet Yoongi’s eyes except you and Jeongguk, who raises a challenging eyebrow at him. It’s immediately apparent to Yoongi that he’s not winning this one. That somehow, he’s ruined the night meant to celebrate him and his friends.

Bitterly, Yoongi laughs. “Fine.”

No one protests when he pushes his chair away from the table and stands up, and that stings much more than Yoongi would like to admit.

He catches your eye as he grabs his jacket off the back of his chair, anger flaring at how pleased you look. 

“Have a nice fucking dinner,” Yoongi mutters, before turning on his heel and walking towards the door. Leaving his friends to face a crowd of photographers and fans that you called.

As he walks out into the cold, dodging the phones being shoved in his face, all he can think about is the way Jeongguk had looked at him.

★ ★ ★

You met Jeon Jeongguk a year ago, give or take a few months. You just remember it was cold.

Less than twenty-four hours after a particularly nasty breakup with a guy you didn’t love but liked enough, you were back on the clock. Zipped into something tight and expensive, wearing the best waterproof mascara money could buy.

You hated those events to begin with—the galas, end of year ceremonies for awards you were no longer viable to win. They were torture for you. But the sting of being freshly single only made things worse, so you had decided to make the most of it.

You may not have been able to win a KMA, but you were well within your rights to treat the KMAs themselves like your own personal dating pool. No better way to rid yourself of your ex like getting with someone new, you thought.

Which is where Jeongguk came in, devastatingly hot in his tailored suit. You’d ran into him on your way from the bathroom—much like you had with Yoongi, now that you think about it—and you instantly found yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss a guy with a lip ring. Jeongguk, as it turned out, was very interested in showing you. 

You were both a little drunk, but the attraction was real. Instant. 

One very handsy cab ride later, and you were in his apartment, grinding on his lap as you experienced first-hand just how little of an obstacle a lip ring can be if the man who has it knows what he’s doing.

Things were going so well—Jeongguk’s tongue exploring your mouth as you felt his cock stiffening beneath you. But it all came crashing down as soon as his hand slid under your dress.

The fact of the matter was, you’d just been dumped. Regardless of how strongly you did or didn’t feel about your ex, you’d still been dumped and it still hurt. As soon as Jeongguk really touched you, it became all too apparent that you wouldn’t be able to go through with it. Luckily, at the slightest bit of hesitance from you, Jeongguk’s hand immediately retreated from under your dress. 

He was sweet about it. Really, really sweet. Valiantly ignored his erection and offered to listen instead, which made you laugh. Comforted you even though you hadn’t thought you needed it. Let you sleep in his bed anyway. When you left the next morning, kindly offered to be your friend, because you clearly needed one.

You’ve been friends ever since. 

Not in the same way that Seokjin is your friend, of course. Seokjin is your best friend, has been since you were both kids. But Jeongguk just… He gets the industry, in a way that Seokjin never will.

Which brings you to last month.

Last month, when Jeongguk called you nervously in the middle of his tour schedule. Asked you to be his fake girlfriend in guilty, hushed whispers.

You didn’t need to know why. You were always going to say yes. 

But Jeongguk explained anyway. He explained that he has a girlfriend, a real girlfriend, who isn’t from your world. That he hasn’t been able to see her nearly as much as he’d like to because he’s terrified of the backlash she could receive from being connected to him romantically.

You read between the lines—you have nothing to lose, at this point. There isn’t a day that goes by where someone online doesn’t have something to say about you, reputable or not.

He explained that in order to maintain the lie, no one in the industry could know the truth, not even Jeongguk’s bandmates. According to him, they wouldn’t understand why he felt the need to go to such lengths. You didn’t completely agree then, but having met Yoongi now, you get it.

His girlfriend knows about you, he’d told you. She knows who you are, knows about that night last year, and that she still agreed to let him ask you this. She doesn’t see you as a threat.

It stung, a little. Of course it did. You and Jeongguk may be friends, but you’ve always felt a hint of something else there. Maybe it was the kindness he’d shown you when you met. Maybe it’s just him. But you never said anything, convinced it was one-sided.

Clearly you were right.

Still, you want to do this for him. You care about him, and just because you can’t maintain a stable relationship doesn’t mean Jeongguk doesn’t deserve a chance at one.

You think, if Yoongi knew, he’d feel the same.

★ ★ ★

Five years down the drain, Yoongi thinks. Ashes his cigarette. Oh well.

Honestly, it’s not even really about you, although Yoongi would love to pretend otherwise. If he pins it all on you, it makes his mission to get rid of you all the more noble. The label breathing down his neck. The impending deadline of an album he doesn’t know if he can write. Dongsaengs that don’t know how to stay out of trouble. If it’s all your fault, it can’t be his.

This—the smoking—was bound to happen, with or without you. You just helped the process along.

He’s perched on his windowsill, puffing his way through cigarette number two, when his phone buzzes next to him.

Namjoon doesn’t call him nearly ever. Yoongi has a way that he likes things done, and Namjoon is probably his only friend that actually respects it. Emails for work. In-person or texts for personal shit. Video calls never. Phone calls only if Yoongi needs to hear it now and there’s no other way.

Yoongi picks up.

“Joon-ah?” Cautious. He likes phone calls the least because phone calls mean trouble, like someone is in the hospital. He’s gotten that call before, more than once.

“Hyung,” Namjoon says. “Do you have a minute?”

Namjoon wouldn’t be asking that if someone was in the hospital, so Yoongi allows himself to unclench. Just a little. “Yeah, I have a minute.”

He hears rustling on the line, like Namjoon is fidgeting. But Namjoon is always fidgeting, so that could mean nothing.

“I figured, given the events of tonight, that it would be a good call to warn you ahead of time. I would’ve come by your apartment, but I’ve got meetings all morning tomorrow and it’s late. I didn’t want to wait until next time I see you though, so…” Namjoon starts, trailing off. 

Yoongi works his jaw. “Spit it out, Joon-ah,” he says, because Namjoon is shit at delivering bad news. He’s always beating around the bush, trying to soften the blow. It’s great for the kids, but it makes Yoongi feel like he’s about to have to bury his first-born or some shit. Yoongi likes clear, direct.

Namjoon knows this, so he always gets it right on the second try.

“YN is going to the Jeju house with you guys,” Namjoon says. Clear and direct, but the absolute last thing Yoongi wants to hear right now. 

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not.”

“She has literally no fucking reason to be there, Joon-ah,” Yoongi grits out. The cigarette secured between his index and middle knuckles has burned down to nothing, singes his fingers. He hisses and flicks it out the window. “Is she going to help us write an album? Is that it?”

“Hyung—“

“No, she isn’t. She’s going to distract my lead singer the whole time and make the whole point of the trip fucking impossible,” he interrupts, because once he gets started he can’t stop. “Who signed off on this? Doesn’t she have a job? Isn’t there a goddamn camera that needs to be smoldered at?”

“Yoongi-hyung,” Namjoon says. He’s using his manager voice, and Yoongi shuts up instantly. 

Namjoon uses this voice on the kids all the time. Realistically, it’s not a big deal. It’s his job. But he’s never had to use it on Yoongi before.

He deserves it, though. Yoongi knows that. He knows that he’s been insufferable ever since you showed up, and he doesn’t like it either. He’d wanted to talk to Jeongguk, to have a heart-to-heart with him about it, but that’s proven impossible given that you’re always around. And Namjoon is their voice of reason.

Yoongi tries again.

“I don’t like her,” he explains, keeping his voice level. “I don’t think she has Jeongguk’s best interests at heart. I’m just trying to look out for him.”

The line stays quiet for a long moment, like Namjoon is taking special care in choosing his next words. It would make Yoongi nervous, but that’s just what Namjoon does.

“Hyung, you need to leave it alone,” he finally says.

What the fuck.

Yoongi could have foreseen plenty of responses from Namjoon. He’s been on the receiving end of Namjoon’s sage advice more than he’s proud of. Yoongi worries a lot, and Namjoon is particularly good at quieting those worries, particularly when they pertain to the kids. And they usually do. But he sure as shit wasn’t expecting to be blown off like that.

“Joon-ah, Jeongguk is gonna—“

“Jeongguk is a grown man. He’s fully entitled to make his own decisions, and you need to respect that if you don’t want to lose him.”

Lose him? Is Yoongi going insane? Is he fucking missing some integral piece of this puzzle that everyone else seems to have?

The notion of losing Jeongguk is completely absurd. How could he lose Jeongguk over something like this? Jeongguk, the college freshman with the huge eyes who followed Yoongi around like a puppy. Jeongguk who sang so softly when Yoongi asked, who beamed with pride when Yoongi told him he had something special. Jeongguk who dropped out alongside Yoongi, took a risk because he trusted his hyung to take care of him.

It was Yoongi and Jeongguk before it was anyone else, and Yoongi has never let Jeongguk down once, won’t allow himself to. This is the thing that’s going to change that? 

“What are you even talking about?”

“Just… leave this one alone, Yoongi,” Namjoon sighs. “She’s coming whether you like it or not, and you need to at least pretend to play nice.”

Yoongi doesn’t appreciate being treated like a child who’s the cause of his parent’s headache, not by Kim Namjoon. The label dickheads are one thing, but the one person Yoongi has entrusted with everything for the past five years? Before that, even? Fuck that. Namjoon doesn’t talk to him this way, and that’s not about to change because of you.

“Namjoon-ah, if you’re going to blow me off, at least put my cock in your mouth and do it right,” Yoongi spits, hanging up before he can think better of his words.

Fuck.

Yoongi hasn’t bitten Namjoon’s head off like that in a long time. It doesn’t feel good to be back in old patterns like this. Yoongi knows why he doesn’t trust you, but he doesn’t know what it is about you that makes it so—urgent. Like he’s a wild animal primed to bite. To hurt. Yoongi isn’t that guy. 

If what Namjoon said is true, if Jeongguk really is at risk of slipping through Yoongi’s fingers, he has to get his fucking act together. He has to try harder to handle this like an adult.

So, you’re coming to Jeju. Fine. Yoongi can be civil.

Even if the only way for him to be civil is not to speak to you at all.

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[garutime]

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Idol! Zhong Chenle x Idol! Fem reader

Aclarations: A stage name for the female character "Hiro" will be used at one point.

Sipnosis: Through a simple interaction, they ended up in a Deep Fake porn video

Warning +18!: Mention of pornographic sites, mention of Deep Fake (Porn video site where they use the face of famous people to put in already existing sexual videos), video without consent, everything is based on a video, nicknames (Slut, whore, useless, bitch, desperate), reader called Chenle "dog", medium humiliation, medium denigration, blows (Pussy, ass), anal and vaginal penetration, cum inside, mention of squirt, unprotected sex, F oral, rough treatment, rough, dom Chenle

Words: 3.1k

Note: I'm using google translator so all the blame on him

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Life as an idol is difficult, perhaps too tiring to the point that made her question why she chose that path; She liked to sing, not so much to dance, she could have chosen another job that involved singing without being on stage daily, it had been a long week in Korea, between the shows and about two awards they managed to bring the hard devastated week to an end.

She was not going to take into account that instead of sleeping, she spent her time on her cell phone and did not sleep at all, that is why the week seemed so long to her, she needed some time to enjoy. She had finally arrived home and did not do much, she put food in her pets' bowl and went upstairs to go to bed, even though her body weighed from tiredness she lay on her side and grabbed her cell phone to be able to scroll on Twitter, after having uploaded some stories to Instagram and thanked for the award but now, it was her time to rest.

Her Twitter was based on fights; She was quite entertained by how people fought on a social network and from his private account it was easy to see everything, from how his own fandom fought with others to the silly fights of who was better; They were funny to read one day when he was tired so he scrolled through the social network reading until he found a tweet that caught his attention.

"Zhong Chenle of Nct Dream and Hiro of Push have interaction"

Below that little informative text from a fan account there was a video of the two of them a few days ago at the awards ceremony, just as they were walking they had collided and when they looked at each other, they bowed to apologize, their hands raised in a greeting from a distance and then each went their own way, she didn't think it was strange or see romance in it but it seemed like the fans were going crazy, commenting about how they made a cute couple, that they confirm, my parents and many other things that she didn't understand and didn't want to understand.

It was mere curiosity when she saw the "#Hiche" in that post, assuming it was the ship between the two of them and that she ignored how badly their names were put together to just click, opening herself to the sick mind of the fans seeing edits, some that seemed real and others that did seem fake, it was obviously all too fake since the most she had of Chenle was his cell phone number and they didn't even talk, she couldn't open her mouth in surprise with each thing she saw until she searched too much, going too far down to a particular tweet that made her frown.

"Nct Dream's Chenle fucking Push's Hiro, Deep Fake"

Below that tweet there was a link to the site's official website, she knew that Deep Fake was a pornographic site where you found a lot of sexual or racy videos where the person's face was changed to that of a famous person, the idea of her being there made her cheeks burn with shame, mainly because there would be a lot of people who wanted to see her that way and who had the time to do something as depraved as that, she felt a small knot in her stomach as she settled face down on her bed, her legs moving anxiously at the new information.

She knew she wouldn't lose anything by clicking on the link so she entered the video, it was all fake and even on the page itself they warned her, the cover of the video was the interaction between them, that moment where they were looking at each other and moving their hands which made her frown, she had expected something more as a cover; A teaser of the video but nothing, which made his finger shake as he clicked on the video, starting a video of just 3 minutes.

— Shit... — She mumbled under my breath as soon as the video started, my eyes opening wide as I clearly saw his face there.

She thought it would look faker but in the video, there she was lying on the bed with her legs open, the girl's physique was almost identical to hers and her face was perfectly placed on that of the girl, the man's hands ran over her thighs while he looked at her soaked panties until the man left a kiss on her knee, showing himself as Chenle and yes, the image and situation seemed real while everything was happening which made her eyes open and stay quiet, she was too focused.

The man's hands kneaded the soft thighs while he kept his gaze fixed on the girl on the bed as if they were intimate, as if it were a romantic moment but it all ended when Chenle open-palmed the girl's poor pussy that made her moan and throw her head back while her hips rose at the blow that wasn't even direct because her panties were in the middle of the game.

— You're embarrassing — The man's voice was identical to Chenle's, generated by AI surely while speaking in Chinese which made it more exciting.

The palm fell back on the girl's pussy making her moan as her legs opened even more, three of the man's fingers began to give soft but beautiful blows against the girl's clitoris, giving stronger and softer blows against the sensitive bud making the girl under him writhe in search of more contact, in search of more than those little blows that made every fiber of her body tremble.

— You're being desperate, you look like a whore — Chenle's tone came out strong, almost as if he were scolding her but the underlying nuance of provocation was undeniable.

— Chenle... — The girl moaned lowly as she shifted in bed, seeking more contact from the man who seemed to refuse to give it to her.

— Are you going to beg now? Weren't you taught to have dignity? — He asked amused as his hands moved up to knead her thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh and his nails marking the skin.

Her face turned bright red when he mentioned that but she continued acting the same, like a whore just like Zhong said and he seemed to enjoy every moment of it.

— Take off those panties — He ordered and the girl quickly moved, pulling off her panties and giving them to the man.

Zhong grabbed them, instantly feeling how wet they were from his constant groping and under the woman's attentive gaze, he licked her panties, his long tongue giving them a lick so he could taste his woman's sweet taste that made him hum happily.

— You're lucky I like you — He said as he threw the panties somewhere in the room.

He didn't wait for her response or some pitiful moan as he decided to bury three of his fingers in her wet heat, he made a mocking movement when his three fingers sank so easily into that tight pussy, it was surprising how he had her dripping for him but even so, he began to give hard blows inside her vaginal cavity, his fingers entered with force only to come out and penetrate her even harder which made her almost scream in pleasure.

— Ah~!, Chenle... — She moaned in that pitiful way that he liked so much, he liked the sight of her pouty lips, silently asking him to destroy her.

And he was a weak man, weak enough to obey her silence and just deepen his thrusts with his fingers, making it easier and easier to handle the situation due to the constant fluids that wet his fingers like waterfalls but he didn't look upset, in fact, he enjoyed it as his fingers separated inside her, in a scissor shape that made her moans louder. He bent down between her legs, enough to start licking her clit like a hungry dog, he wasn't even thinking about breathing as he licked and sucked, his fingers going in and out with a need for her to cum, in him, in his mouth, on his cock.

— You're a fucking dog — The girl commented or rather critical according to Chenle who didn't like the comment.

He was the one in charge there and said nasty things to her so being compared to a dog (even though he was acting like one), made all movement stop as he pulled away from that cute pussy and pulled his fingers out, only to give her a loud smack that echoed after her moan as she writhed at the lack of pleasure.

— Hold on bitch — He ordered as he leaned down to catch her kisses in a needy kiss.

There was a scene change, the kiss scene changed to Chenle on top of Hiro, the girl's legs awkwardly on the sides of Zhong's hips while he was between her legs, their hips colliding over and over as he fucked her like a dog in heat, just like she had said. Her moans were the ones that were heard the most as her pussy was basically being destroyed, the thick and long cock buried perfectly in her pussy, hitting her walls only to pull out and hit her again with a new intensity that left her breathless to give way to a moan, her lips in a constant pout that she knew her man liked.

— Wasn't I being a fucking dog Hiro? Look at you, you're like a bitch in heat letting your man fuck you — He said mockingly, his blows didn't stop, they only increased as he let her feel it.

Chenle didn't hold her hips or legs, letting her body rise and fall like the doll she was, his hands were simply resting on her knees, not grabbing her or using her to be able to fuck her better, a place to rest his hands while his hips did all the work, each stroke was different, he never had a rhythm, never at the same time or the same intensity but always with the same desire.

— Chenle... — She moaned as she foolishly grabbed the bed rail to try and hold on.

— What? Are you going to cum already? We've not even been at it for ten minutes — He moaned through a particularly strong thrust.

Even with his complaints, knowing that she was about to cum motivated him, making him grab her hips now making her feel all of herself, his thrusts deeper while this time, he focused on hitting that sweet spot over and over again making it simply impossible for the girl beneath him to handle him, he could feel her walls tightening around him and he could only let out low moans, he didn't want to give her the satisfaction of believing that he was doing his job right.

— Chenle! — It was glorious to hear her name in the middle of her orgasm, she knew how much that turned him on.

He pulled out of her, wanting to see the show her pussy would give him as he watched her hips move in search of more, her pussy releasing a good stream from her hole that made him smile, he expected more but the simple act of making her squirt for him, of giving her a squirt was enough for him.

— You even squirted?... Shit, how long has it been since you've been fucked? — Chenle mocked but the mere sight of having made that pussy squirt made his still hardened cock get even harder.

He didn't care that she was still recovering from her orgasm, he simply got back between her legs, seeing how he was going to accommodate her now until he lifted her legs to the point that her knees were level with her head, her body stretched out and also crushed by the bigger Zhong who placed his hands on the bottom of her knees, leaving her legs motionless and pathetic for his use.

— Chenle... A lot — She moaned weakly, as if she wanted to hide how much of a slut she was.

— Come on, don't be a child; Milk me with that pussy — Chenle ordered, rolling his eyes at the complaints of his woman beneath him.

She didn't hesitate to enter again, which made him let out a low moan as he penetrated her hard and fast, stretching her body to its limits as he sought his release, his cock was throbbing but he just didn't want to release his load in that used pussy; she understood, not many wanted to use that used pussy, neither did he.

— Your face distracts me from my orgasm — He said as he grabbed her shirt, a short shirt that fit perfectly over those tits but finally, he lifted it up to her head, causing her entire face to be covered by the shirt and he could only see that little body.

His slut's moans grew louder as he fucked her, it seemed like he treated her worse; He liked it even more for what followed, watching those tits jump happily with each thrust which made him gasp, it was a good view that simply made him release all his semen inside that little pussy, he buried himself deep wanting her to take every drop of his semen like the good slut she was.

There was another change of scene, now there was no longer the view of the bed, but the view of a piece of furniture and a wall where Chenle was leaning, his penis proudly raised while being serviced by the slut who spread her legs wide so that the camera could capture her pussy full of his semen, her tongue passed all over his phallus while she looked into his eyes with that almost puppy look she always had.

— Ah, you know how to do that well, don't you? — He asked rhetorically while patting her head — How many have you sucked to be able to suck like that, right, slut?

That comment seemed to excite her because she replaced her tongue all over her mouth, putting Chenle's phallus in her mouth to move her head back and forth which made him moan, this time he couldn't hold back his moans as he moaned freely, enjoying the good work she could give but he got tired quickly, he always got tired of any attention given to him for a long time.

— Get up Hiro, with your back to me — He ordered and in a few seconds he already had the girl turning her back.

He took the time to travel the curves of her back, her waist and her plump butt that was his target, so without hesitating about his strength or her weight, he grabbed the girl by the legs and lifted her, earning a small moan as she stretched her arm back and grabbed him by the neck, she was afraid of falling but Chenle knew how to maneuver her, her back against his chest while he hugged the back of her legs, making them stick to his chest and also being wide open for the camera.

— Calm down, if you get tense it will be worse — He murmured under his breath, leaving a kiss on her cheek as he adjusted her to the height of his cock.

It was glory when he was finally able to penetrate her tight anus, his hips began to move frantically against her, making his thrusts short but fast releasing moans of pleasure from her, Chenle's grip was strong and secure, making it look like her pussy was throbbing and throbbing to be penetrated by something but he simply didn't pay attention to it, plus he couldn't while he grabbed her.

His back was leaning against the wall, a way to support himself while also holding the girl's weight, his balls swinging as his hips hit against that ass, he dedicated himself to leaving kisses on her neck while he fucked her, well, they weren't exactly kisses, but red marks that would remind her who they were from until he came in her tight ass, allowing himself to bury himself in her deep to ensure his semen.

— Chenle — She complained with a frown when he came so well in her without worrying about her orgasm.

— You're acting desperate again — He criticized her as he released her, leaving her on the floor.

But Chenle was a good man and besides he wanted to be in that ass again so he just pinned the girl against the wall, letting her balls get hard against the cold wall while he stood behind her at a small distance watching her anus throb as he released his semen, he indulged himself by slapping her lovely ass while he watched her.

— Come on, fuck me, get your orgasm — He invited her, slapping her ass again.

He didn't have to give any more orders for her to settle against the wall, her hips raised high as her ass rubbed against Chenle's cock until she finally let him in, both of them letting out a moan as she began to move on his phallus, fucking herself with Chenle's cock like a sex toy or fucking Chenle just as he had asked her to, Zhong's constant spanking generating a jolt in her ass that made him moan, he was delighted.

The girl moaned as she continued, her hips moving to let the cock go deep until her orgasm simply began to come and she became slow which made him roll his eyes as he grabbed her hips and hard, began to thrust into her, slamming her against the wall with each thrust.

— You're useless, you can't even fuck yourself — Chenle said as he reached out his hand to squeeze one of her hardened nipples.

It was enough for the slut to cum, unfortunately she didn't release the streams he was expecting but the flow did fall down her thighs in a sign of how pleased she was, he sure knew how to fuck her.

A change of scene happened, the last one where Chenle had put his cock on the girl's tits, rubbing himself over and over again while she licked the tip like a kitten until he released all his semen on her face, making her moan vaguely when the liquid wet her face, chest and breasts but she only smiled apparently pleased with being full of the man's semen.

— Good whore — He congratulated her as he buried his fingers in her mouth, letting her feel his semen.

And there the video ended, leaving her with her mouth open and her pussy shamefully soaked, it was depraved that she liked that fake video of her with the boy and also, that she would like to be treated like shit but the humidity of her panties revealed how horny she was and she could only enter the messages on her cell phone and look for the contact of the man who had fucked her so good in the video.

"I'm Hiro from Push, did you see the video?" She dared to send to Zhōng's number, hoping not to sound weird.

"Yeah, that shit is sick" Was her only response from the Chinese.

"Do you want to imitate it?" It didn't take long for that proposition to reach her that made her smile.

Of course she wanted to.

[bbokicidal]

Slashers - OT8 [SKZ]

Disclaimers : Just a small post I thought would be fun to make. Also - this is all just for GOOD FUN for the month of October and spooky season. These killers are nasty and awful and we all know that - I am in no way saying the Stray Kids members are represented by these slashers (who are fictional characters remember) and I do not mean to say 'they're exactly like these awful people.' because that's just dumb. Don't go thinking that now. C'mon. Common sense.

Warnings : None really, just horror movie slashers included

If you want a part two of the members as other horror movie characters (maybe finals girls/guys or more recent characters?) lmk!

Bangchan : Michael Myers [Halloween]

Honestly mostly just picked this because of his physique and the way I am so wildly attracted to both of them. But I also just think Chan's got that Lowkey scary dad stance down. Also the way he stands back to watch others. Yes, I know it's lovey dovey towards the group but imagine him as Michael just stalking the others?????? (Why's it kinda hot,,,)

He'd spent months planning his first attack. Hours standing, staring, figuring out the habits and movements of his younger friends until he had all of their mannerisms in his head - memorized like the veins in the back of his hand. He knew who was the weakest link. Who he shouldn't target. Who would be easy to mark off the list. Jisung just had back luck being the first name he put down on his notepad.

Chan as Michael Myers, my beloved.

Lee Know : Billy 'Ghostface' Loomis [Scream]

The actually scary one who's full of determination and purpose. The one who actually gets the job done. The one who does it and does it well. Also, wildly sexy. So. I think Minho fits Billy Loomis best because he can be cunning, secretive, but also charming and wild at the same time. We love him.

Minho wasn't stupid - not like his accomplice. He let Jisung distract people - be the life of the party while he himself lured Felix out to the garage to get a beer or two. He dismissed himself, saying he forgot something in the house, before coming back only to find Felix frightened at first sight and scrambling to escape the outer part of the home. And he felt little remorse as he watched Felix try to squirm out through the doggy door - his thumb clicking the switch to make the garage door slowly raise.

Minho as Billy Loomis, hehe.

Changbin : Pyramid Head [Silent Hill]

Not a 'classic slasher' because he's not the main villain of the story but EASILY the best pic for Changbin because WHEWIE those arms. Also?? Changbin dragging around a giant knife and just picking people up by their necks? Good GAWD. Pyramid Head Binnie (shirtless,, Binnie,,,,,) is a need for me.

He was just there - existing. Wandering. Dragging his knife around until the ground cracked and broke under the weight as he walked. He was just... there. Until someone appeared - a pretty boy with long brunette hair that fought for his life in this hellhole of a place. Someone for him to wander after. Someone for him to target.

Changbin as Pyramid Head <3

Hyunjin : Chucky [Chucky]

Honestly mainly just picked this one because 1) Hyunjin as a doll would be wild lol, and 2) Hyunjin who looks so cute and precious and like a normal man at first but ends up being a wild fucking mass murderer?? That would be,, actually so fitting because he's such a cutie at first and then gets on stage and it's like WHOHOAH--

Finding his soul trapped in the body of a doll was the last thing he wanted to happen after his death - but Hyunjin found that this doll was a lot more flexible than he expected. He could curl his fingers, move his eyes, talk even. It was just like his body before - only harder to break, and a lot... smaller.

Anyway, Hyunjin as Chucky. Also red hair Hyunjin supremacy, I said what I said.

Han : Stu "Ghostface" Macher [Scream]

The silly one that keeps messing up. The one who works hard but still somehow fumbles it. The one that needs help. The one who really got roped into it just because he's massively gay for his best friend.

After botching another murder and making a pact with his friend to frame the girl for their killings, Jisung dug the blade into his friend before Minho did the same. He clutched his stomach and fell to the counter, only moving to grip the phone as it rang just beside his head. He sobbed out another gasp that his parents would be so disappointed in him - another babble from Jisung that Minho didn't have time to deal with.

Jisung as Stu Macher, aka the gay icon of the scream series, everyone.

Felix : Tiffany Valentine [Chucky]

Definitely did not pick this bc of his hair. (oops) Anyway. Just there for the shits n giggles, does it for the person he loves and adores so dearly. Didn't even initially mean to be a part of it but got pulled into it somehow anyway lol. Also an absolute baddie.

How'd he get here? He wasn't too sure. What he did know was that he was glued to his best friend for the rest of his life now, trapped in the small but definitely not fragile bodies of dolls for eternity. He was happy to be there, if he was honest, just enjoying being everlasting with someone he adored. Even if he was put into the body of a ... woman? Well. Doll-Woman.

Felix as Tiffany Valentine. ~

Seungmin : Jason Voorhees [Friday The 13th]

Seungmin as a reoccurring character who experienced nothing but tragedy in his past and now comes back to his place of 'death' every year to haunt people who get so much as a fucking mile from him. LOOOOVE this idea. Love the image of Seungmin just hovering around a Summer Camp and lurking like a little creeper. Also Seungmin with a machete is too much for me, cannot. I gotta go.

Seungmin enjoyed lurking around the camp if he was honest. He found himself feeling joy in watching the camp-goers wander around so clueless as to the tragedy that occurred in the waters they swam in, playing and having too much for his liking. No - He didn't feel joy in watching them have fun. He felt joy in hearing their screams the following night when he made them aware of his presence; when he showed them the truth that lay in the grounds of that poor Summer Camp.

Seungmin as Jason Voorhees. ;))

I.N : Pennywise [IT]

Not a classic slasher yet again BUT one of the best in my personal opinion. (It's one of my fav horror movies so.) I think Jeongin fits Pennywise because of his teasing nature, the way he finds it funny when he irks his hyungs, etc. I also think he has a relatively short -- temper? Temper might not be the right word. Maybe patience is right. He's impatient and if he doesn't get what he wants, he'll snap. Also the idea of shapeshifter Jeongin?? Torturing people by showing up as their literal living nightmares? Yum yum yum.

Jeongin was hungry. Starved, even. Twenty seven years after falling into a slumber, he'd awoke under a quaint town that offered up so many delicious meal options - which included a very pretty man more muscular than the others - who, conveniently, was a bit of a scaredy cat.

Jeongin as Pennywise !!

-

Taglist : @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground @thatonedarkskinnedsiren

[ink-n-shadow]

PARTY LIKE A ROCKSTAR

𝜗𝜚 the one where you're a rockstar and ghost is your bodyguard

𝜗𝜚 pairing: bodyguard!Simon "Ghost" Riley x rockstar!reader (link to all works in this au) 𝜗𝜚 cw: alternative universe (majority non-canon), strong language, maybe suggestive content (but i think that's a stretch) 𝜗𝜚 note: the way this au!headcanon has been living rent free inside of my head for weeks (might have to make this into a series o_O)

⤷ you were one of the biggest up-and-coming names in the music industry. that being said－you needed the best protection that could be offered.

⤷ enter ghost－an ex-british army soldier that your manager hired right after your first big break to take you to and from a local concert. he kept his face covered by some stupid skull mask and wore a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to expose the countless tattoos that swirled around his forearms.

⤷ ghost would refuse to tell you his real name too. but he was quiet, protective, intimidating, and really good at his job－so your manager kept him around.

⤷ now you were much more well known, meaning ghost's job of keeping you alive and away from grabbing hands or flashing pap lights only got more difficult. but at least the pay also increased.

⤷ while the conversations were brief and often short-lived, you both had grown to somewhat enjoy the constant presence of one another. even if you pushed ghost's buttons and tried to stretch out away from his grasp.

"Aye－fuck did I say about tryin' to leave the venue without me? You're gonna get yourself bloody murdered out there."

⤷ would most definitely have a pet name to call you instead of your real name/stage name

"I said get behind me, dove. How am I gonna protect your pretty little face from behind ya?"

⤷ ghost would most definitely sit in the security area or stage wings at your concerts just to watch you tear up the stage. he liked watching you do the thing you loved the most－performing. but again, he'd never admit how much he enjoyed it.

"Yeah, dove. I watched you out there tonight. What－you want me to give you a gold fuckin' star for your performance? It was 'lright, not the best I've ever seen."

⤷ he has definitely taken you home inebriated more times than he could count. and you definitely get handsy and flirty when you're not sober. but he always made sure you got home safe and sound.

"Aye! Keep your bloody hands to yourself－no, m'not holding your hand right now, dove. You're plastered...don't even know your own fuckin' name."

⤷ you were definitely a soft spot for ghost, but he'd never admit it. he barely admitted it to himself.

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[victoriously-wicked]

LIST OF SOME JORI/VICTORiOUS FANFIC FOR YOU!

Fanfiction.net links: blue Wattpad links: orange Ao3 links: red

Just a Stage Kiss: There's a fine line between love and hate. What happens when Jade and Tori are partnered together for another class at Hollywood Arts, only this time it's not stage fighting, it's stage kissing. Will that line be crossed, or redrawn thicker than before? Ao3 Wattpad Fanfic

I Have No Sister: Oneshot. Trina had done the worst thing on the day of her sister's wedding. Disgraced, she starts a new life in NYC. But a blast from the past has a bone to pick with Trina Vega. Fanfic

They Say a Bad Girl Will Shatter Your World, Drive You Insane: Tori needs to seem more mature for an audition and decides it's time to take a real risk. And what is more dangerous than dating the girl who used to hate your guts? Based on the episode 'The Gorilla Club'. Fanfic Ao3

Let’s Show the World That Science is On Our Side: Sequel to "they say a bad girl". Their relationship is the best and the strangest thing that's ever happened to Tori. You can't really blame her if she's still trying to figure it out. Fanfic Ao3

I Think You Know Me: Oneshot. Beck plots to get Jade and Tori back together. Andre just wants to stay in one piece. Twist from 'Tori Fixes Beck and Jade.' Fanfic

Shock Value: In one of Sikowitz's classroom exercises, Tori needs to Shock the class. Jade doesn't think Tori's capable of shocking anyone. What does Tori do? Fanfic

Start from Scratch: It's been 3 years since Hollywood Arts and Jade's life hasn't worked out like she wanted it too. Fleeing her past, she must start over from stratch and finds her only refuge is with a person with her own personal demons, Tori Vega. Can the pair rebuild their lives and perhaps even find love along the way. Fanfic Wattpad

Our Story: Jade's deadly secret caused Beck to leave her, but Tori came into her life and made everything better. Now, Jade's life is done hanging in the balance, right? She's been told she's safe, so why does it feel like everything is about to come crashing on her and her friends? Fanfic

Behind Enemy Lines: How Yerba changed everything. Wattpad Fanfic

You Don’t Know Me: Jade and Tori are forced to work together on a group project for school. And when Tori visits Jade's house one day and her father is drunk, Tori realizes that Jade may not be the person she always thought she was. Fanfic

Replay: I never thought I'd be where I am now when I took my sister's place in that showcase. It definitely brought changes I didn't expect. But now that I'm here, I wouldn't change it for the world. Ao3 Fanfic

You’re Worth It: Tori's determined to get Jade to become friends with her no matter how many times Jade's threatened her and screamed at her. What happens when Jade starts to hang out with Tori more and realises that she doesn't seem to be feeling as much of a strong connection with Beck as she used to. Will Jade tell Tori her deepest secrets? Will Tori confess her love? They must endure a long, bumpy road together, but will it be worth it? Wattpad

A Dangerous Friend: Everyone needs at least one crazy friend, and it looks like Tori's found hers. Ao3 Wattpad

My Best Friend’s Girlfriend: Hello there...my name is Tori. Tori Vega. I'm a little nervous at the moment...so bear with me? Well I have a confession to make...it's a hard one at that. I um...well I moved here to Hollywood just a little while back and am now going to school with my childhood best friend. Then something happened... I never planned it to happen. I just... well... I accidentally fell absolutely and uncontrollably in love, with his girlfriend. Wattpad

Violated: Tori Vega, good girl, straight A student, musical master. No one would have expected her to be forced with a life changing trauma. But she did. She had many to turn to but who was her choice? Jade West, bad girl, possible straight A student, Musical, acting and producing master. She hates Tori with a passion, yet no one knows why, Jade herself doesn't know. But what happens when her enemy appears at her doorstep crying and in need of someone to help her? Fanfic Wattpad

Where’s Tori: 9 years ago, Jade's life was shattered, when her girlfriend Tori, vanished. After many years, Jade has long since given up hope of seeing Tori again.  But what happens when the Impossible happens? Fanfic Wattpad

Twist of Fate: Tori is paralysed and Jade is blind. Two lives drastically affected by fate. Two people who don't realize, how much each needs the other. But fate can be kind as well as cruel, which they soon come to realize. Slight AU. Wattpad Fanfic

The Lock-In: Locked in a building for 48 hours with 238 other high schoolers isn't exactly the greatest weekend. And nobody knows that more than André Harris, Beck Oliver, Cat Valentine, Trina Vega, Robbie Shapiro, Tori Vega, and Jade West . . . especially Tori Vega and Jade West. The lock-in begins. 48 hours to go. (Jori friendship.) Wattpad Fanfic

The Last Resort: Jade has become completely catatonic since the death of her fiancé in a tragic accident. Not responding to any treatment or words from family and friends, they turn to the one person who hasn't tried, to try and bring her back. A person who once broke Jade's heart. Her ex girlfriend, Tori Vega. Wattpad Fanfic

The Impossible: A certain student at Hollywood Arts that no one’s noticed before is suddenly involved with the gang for her Kickback performance. But she has also revealed that she is a 'great fan' of Jade West and Tori Vega and decides to let the two girls approach to help her. Who is this girl? Will she reveal who she is when Victoria Vega and Jadelyn West, one of the most talented [and hottest] students at Hollywood Arts, approach her based on curiosity and interest? Ao3 Wattpad

#GrandFinale: Caterina Valentine is just weeks away from graduation. She understands things are about to change for her and her closest friends at Hollywood Arts. But her feelings for her best friend and roommate, Sam, have already been changing...and Cat realizes it might be time to be honest about them. Sam Puckett doesn't like people or connections. People always leave. Connections always hurt. Then she met Cat and her entire world changed. But with graduation weeks away, Sam fears she's going to get left behind again. Maybe it would be better if this time, she did the leaving. Past and present collide as Sam and Cat face the uncertainty of the future. But will they face it together, or alone? It's been a long time coming. Welcome to the #GrandFinale! Ao3

The Untold Jori: Sequel to “#GrandFinale”. With graduation in her rearview mirror, Jade West finds herself on the cusp of a fantastic opportunity: the chance to direct a short film. It's not her style or genre, but a successful film will lead to funding for her own feature film, a story so important to her she might be willing to take the deal. Much to Jade's frustration, the best person for the lead role to ensure its success is none other than Victoria Vega. But Tori is long gone, and Jade resents the idea of asking her to be in the film. It's the reunion neither of them wanted, with a result neither of them expected. Ao3

One Last Song: Sequel to “The Untold Jori”. Victoria Vega: successful actress, prominent scream woman, married to the love of her life for nearly a decade...and, as she approaches age thirty, a woman wondering what happened to the dreams of her youth. A mysterious call from an old flame may just awaken those dreams once more, but at what cost? Jade West: one of the most celebrated masters of horror and thrillers in Hollywood. But when the social media mob descends on Jade for an innocent remark, her future in the industry is suddenly on shaky ground...and the one she depends on the most, her rock, Tori, seems to be more distant than ever. Jade fears her dream may be coming to an end...and what she will wake up to when it's over. After a string of successful broadway shows, Cat Valentine has spent years at the top of the pop charts as the sensational "Caterina". She and her longtime love, Samantha Puckett, have settled down in Sam's hometown of Seattle, where Cat records her music. But one morning, Cat wakes up to find Sam gone without a trace; not even her beloved motorcycle remains. In a panic, Cat hunts down her best friends, Tori and Jade, to help her find out where Sam went, and why? All three women stand at the brink of their most difficult challenges. Can the girls and their friends endure, or will all three be torn apart forever? Join Tori, Jade, Cat, Sam, Carly, and more for one last adventure...and one last song. Ao3

One Last Time: Jade and Tori had always felt some unspoken thing between them, but never acted on it. On Tori's last night in LA, a certain song by their friend brings Jade to do just that, but is it already too late for them to be anything more than friends? Ao3 Wattpad Fanfic

Postgrad Partners: Sequel to “One Last Time”. As Tori is about to leave LA for a record deal in Miami, she and Jade hastily decide to move in together and explore their relationship and postgraduate lives. What challenges await to test this newfound couple? Ao3 Wattpad Fanfic

HAVE FUN READING!

[rahuratna]

Ikemen Kaisen

Chapter 1: Step into the Industry

Cross posted!

Summary: A cursed spirit develops a massive crush on the 7:3 sorcerer while he's on a mission. Trapping him in its unique otome game domain, the spirit soon discovers that it's bitten off a lot more than it can chew with this particular jujutsu sorcerer ...

Content: Humour, fluff, crack, otome game satire, Nanami has Rizz with a capital 'R', the first year trio obtaining front row seats to this absolute shitshow.

“Yes, Itadori, you heard me correctly.”

Yuuji’s eyes had widened to impossible proportions, hands clasped together so tightly, his knuckles were turning white.  

“Wait, you’re serious? You’re for real, Nanamin? We’re going to -”

“A concert, yes. I don’t like repeating mission details, so listen closely.”

Yuuji snapped to attention, one hand raised to his head in a smart salute.

“Yuuji, reporting for duty, sir!”

Nanami sighed. It was Thursday, a day he didn’t particularly fancy in terms of starting a new mission. Missions that started mid-week invariably ended up incurring overtime, along with eating into his weekend on occasion. He would do his duty diligently, nonetheless, as he was expected to show Yuuji the general procedure for such investigations. Thus, he had occupied this empty classroom for a briefing. He stood before the whiteboard on which he had neatly printed the details in bullet points (a necessity for Yuuji’s attention span). Pointing to the first line, he began.

“We’ve been receiving reports for a few months now about suspicious activity at idol performances all around Tokyo. Fans of certain idols have been going missing. All cases so far showed that the victims disappeared shortly after concerts, fan-meets and other public appearances. Initially, we could not make a direct correlation to curse activity. The disappearances themselves were sporadic and presented no specific pattern, so the case was placed under revision and monitored. Recent events, however, changed things.”

Nanami pointed to a photograph of a young man, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, artfully posed to highlight his muscular torso in a hooded jacket that was unzipped. He wore tight, dark jeans, strategically ripped, and was smiling coyly at the camera. He was undoubtedly very good looking.

“This is Takashima Ryouta, stage name Ryo-ri.”

“Eh? Like RiRi?”

“It’s his concert we’ll be attending. Recent disappearances occurring after his concerts have been far more targeted and blatant. Furthermore, our windows have reported cursed energy levels spiking in the general vicinity of these events.”

Yuuji raised his hand.

“Yes, Itadori?”

“How do we know that these disappearances are even linked to idols specifically? What if it’s something else they all have in common? Like, some kinda shady fan club? Or maybe someone’s just targeting big groups of people?”

Nanami pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, expression carefully blank despite the small surge of pride he felt at Yuuji’s astute observation.

“The latest victims were obviously targeted with intent. You see, Takashima has recently been growing in popularity, thanks to his appearance on a TV show. Some of his fanbase is therefore quite intense.”

Yuuji sighed.

“Yeah, they go rabid for guys who look like that.”

“For this reason, his agency has come up with a strategy to gain interest amongst his fans, but also keep him safe. Our intelligence network has informed us that they put up a lottery for each live event he performs at, allowing one fan to join him on stage for the duration of a song. The lottery is fake, however. Girls are hired from talent agencies affiliated with Takashima’s. They are disguised heavily and every time he makes an appearance, one of these ‘lucky’ girls is the one chosen to join him on stage. This way, his fans will continue to buy tickets in the hopes that they will be chosen by lottery, but will never actually interact with him on stage.”

Yuuji’s mouth dropped open.

“Whoa! That’s … really not cool! Isn’t that kinda like false advertising?”

“We’re not here to judge the insidious marketing strategies employed by a soulless, capitalist-driven entertainment industry that consumers blindly latch onto like tapeworms.”

“Er – “

“Rather, we’re going to be investigating why all the young ladies hired from the talent agency to join Takashima on stage have disappeared shortly after each performance.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. As I said, this, along with the more pronounced spikes in cursed energy, make this a case we can no longer afford to leave to regular law enforcement. You and I will be stationed within this area,” and here Nanami pointed to a roughly circular outline on a map of Akihabara. “We have also been provided with special VIP pass tickets to the concert tomorrow and will be closely monitoring the interactions between Takashima and this week’s chosen representative on stage. Afterwards, we will conduct surveillance on the individual in question. Please remember, our presence must be kept discreet at all times and we must blend in to the crowd at the concert as seamlessly as possible.”

Yuuji tapped his chin. “Blend in, huh? That won’t be a problem for me but, uh, Nanamin, not to be weird or anything – “

“Don’t worry on my account, Itadori. I have everything planned out. I have never had trouble with creating a cover.”

Yuuji shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he waited outside the main entrance of Jujutsu Tech for Nanami to make his appearance. For once, the energetic young student had arrived earlier than his experienced mentor. He had grabbed a hot coffee from the machine in the foyer to pass the time. The caffeine was not calming in the slightest.

There was something about the current mission that both excited him and filled him with nervous anticipation. From the summarized report that Nanami had left for him to read, he knew that the number of disappearances meant that they might be dealing with a tricky opponent this time. The fact that this activity was happening in such a crowded area of Tokyo also indicated that whoever was engineering these vanishings was either unhinged or audacious, neither of which boded well.

A black sedan with tinted windows made its way around the side of the building and Yuuji hopped forward, waving. The car drew to a halt beside him and he opened the passenger door, grinning as he spied Nanami in the driver’s seat.

“Whoa Nanamin, I like the fit!”

Nanami’s immaculate suit had been replaced by jeans, a simple, but expensive-looking grey knit shirt and a long, dark overcoat. His signature shades had been substituted for designer sunglasses and the sleek band of his wristwatch gleamed from beneath his sleeve. The normally swept back hairstyle was a little more relaxed, making him look closer to his age than he usually did.  

“Thank you, Yuuji. You’re suitably dressed, I see.”

 The student cocked his head and Nanami nodded, anticipating his question.

“I’ll be calling you Yuuji for the duration of this mission. I’ve decided that we’ll present ourselves as uncle and nephew. I am your – “

“For real?”

Yuuji’s eyes were shining in a way that made Nanami cough and turn away. He propped up his glasses and shifted gear, the car gliding away from the main gates of the school.

“Yes. That way I can call you Yuuji and you can continue to call me … Nanamin, I suppose. I am visiting home after some time away and decided to spend some quality time with you, my nephew. And so, I’m taking you to a concert that you’ve been wanting to attend for some time. I trust you did your homework?”

Yuuji nodded proudly before pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“I downloaded all of Ryo-ri’s songs last night and learned the lyrics. He’s not bad! I can totally jam to this.”

“Good. It’ll be a long drive, so use the time to brush up on the mission details.”

Which is exactly what Yuuji did, to begin with. He pulled the folder from his backpack and opened it out on his lap. Nanami had been kind enough to summarize the numerous reports for him and provided concise profiles of the main players in the case. Eyes running over Takashima’s info page, Yuuji frowned slightly. Something was missing. He glanced out of the window at the passing scenery, trying for a while to figure out what it was, before his eyes widened.

So obvious!

Scrolling rapidly on his phone, Yuuji began to search for Takashima’s Instagram. The information in Nanami’s profile, as succinct and useful as it was, lacked … flavour. Social media would give Yuuji a more accurate idea of the image the idol was trying to put out there. Soon enough, he found what he was looking for.

Uhhh, okay then.

Takashima’s pictures skirted that fine border of what Kugisaki would call ‘spicy’. They were definitely risqué for an idol, but this was what seemed to appeal to his particular audience. Yuuji’s eyebrows shot up at the sheer number of likes one particular photo had. The picture was a mirror selfie, showing Takashima’s glistening torso, presumably after a workout, his face obscured teasingly by the phone. Yuuji nodded sagely. This image fitted in with a lot of the lyrics he had been learning yesterday.

“Ohh, I see. He’s going for playful fuckboy, but like, more tasteful.”

“Pardon?”

“Oops … I said that out loud, huh?”

“Yes, you did. Now explain.”

Yuuji scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“Sooo, like, how do I explain this? Idols have images they create, right?”

“I’m aware.”

“And those images draw fans and make them more popular. I checked out Ryo-ri’s IG page and … and you know what IG is right?”

“I’m not five centuries old, Yuuji.”

“Fine, fine! Just checking. Wait, do you have – “

“I use it to follow recipe pages and food blogs. Let’s move on.”

“So, from what I’m seeing here, Ryo-ri’s fans are mainly girls who like this image he puts out of being … you know. Like a playboy, a guy who doesn’t take things seriously, but nice at the same time. The persona is … the guy who’ll steal a girl’s heart and move on quickly, but she can’t have bad feelings towards him, because he’s not an asshole? It’s why he also has fans who are guys. They kinda want to be like him and they feel his lyrics. You get what I’m saying?”

Nanami hummed thoughtfully. “I think so. And this is what’s called … a fuckboy?”

Yuuji snorted loudly.

“That word sounds so wrong coming from you. Not exactly. Guys who get called that can be flaky and do dumb stuff, but Ryo-ri’s got the right balance. He’s got the ‘naughty, but chill’ vibe.”

“I see. And do you think this makes him more or less likely to be responsible for the disappearances?”

The words sobered Yuuji, who sat back, a warm feeling filtering into his chest. As much as he had found it difficult to get along with the taciturn ex-salaryman to begin with, his view had changed a lot over time. Nanami was the epitome of a responsible adult, his stern exterior hiding just how kind and patient he was, especially with students. There were times like these, when he would ask for Yuuji’s opinion in such a straightforward manner that it made the boy want to prove himself even more, to show that he could also be an exemplary sorcerer.

“Umm, I think it means we should watch him carefully at the concert. If he is involved, I’m not sure he’d be so … obvious about it? He’s not super high profile, but he’s getting there. If his fans are disappearing, that looks bad for him. I … I think maybe there’s something else to this too.”

Nanami nodded slowly.

“All right. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Yuuji spent the rest of the ride watching some of Ryo-ri’s live performances on YouTube and searching for the specific songs where the girls would join him on stage. In between, he did some other stalking.

“Hey, hey, Nanamin. Guess whose IG I found?”

A small chime sounded from Nanami’s pocket.

“Yuuji – “

“That’s my invite. Don’t ignore your precious nephew!”

“My profile isn’t that interesting. How did you find me, anyway?”

“I checked who Gojo-sensei follows. And, I mean, there’s only one person who’d call himself ‘Gruyère_Ghostbuster’ – “

“Don’t say that out loud.”

“And hey! Your profile is cool! It’s not just food, Nanamin. You’ve got such awesome nature photos and wait … are these videos of yourself cooking? I recognise that watch! Are you making rolled eggs here? And oooh … you’ve got puppy videos?”

The weather was perfect, the sky bright and clear, the normal obscuring fog of the city conspicuously absent. The air still carried a chill and Yuuji wrapped his red scarf closer around his neck. They had parked some distance away from the open-air venue where the concert would take place and were now steadily making their way in that direction, soaking in the sights and sounds of Akihabara.

Yuuji was carrying a bag of manga he had bought at a nearby store and chattered amiably about the recent story arc. Nanami followed a few paces behind, nodding along to Yuuji’s remarks. On the surface, they looked every bit the ordinary uncle and nephew. Only someone who knew exactly what to look for would note the way the boy sometimes shifted his body to observe people better or the way the older man’s eyes would flit sharply back and forth beneath the sunglasses.

Thus far, there had been nothing overtly suspicious in the area, besides the low-grade cursed spirits that showed themselves at intervals. After some time, they found themselves at the venue which adjoined a hotel and conference centre. The centre itself housed quite a variety of functions, with a spa, restaurants and various stores catering to a wealthier clientele. Nanami took the lead, passing through the security checkpoint at the hotel. Yuuji trotted nervously after him, half expecting a security alarm to start blaring because of what he knew was strapped to the older sorcerer’s back.

Nothing happened. Nanami turned his head slightly.

“Cursed energy can also be used to conceal things.”

“Ha. Cool. I guess I gotta learn that sometime. Where are we going, by the way? The concert will be out that way, but I know it’s still early …”

“We have VIP tickets, remember. That means we get access to any of the services here and hotel rooms close to the concert venue. I’m sure you’re hungry, so let’s get something to eat first.”

Nanami began to make his way to the upper levels of the centre. Yuuji followed, sticking close to his mentor. As confident and easy-going as the teen usually was, there was an air of opulence and rarified luxury here that was starting to make him feel small and very out of place. Looking around, he could see executives in expensive suits talking on their phones and people carrying shopping bags with hideously expensive name brands emblazoned on the front. He glanced down at his sneakers and discreetly tried to rub off a scuff mark against the back of his leg before glancing over at Nanami. The tall man showed no sign at all of slowing down, his stride elegant and assured, looking every bit as if he belonged in this setting. People parted ways to allow him to pass.

Eventually, he led them to what looked like a high-end steakhouse. The maître d’ stepped forward, his eyes roving intimidatingly over the two, and Yuuji was tempted for a minute to mutter apologies, scamper off and order a cheap slice of pizza somewhere. A firm hand on his shoulder stilled him and he felt a small sense of reassurance assert itself as Nanami’s deep voice sounded above his head, explaining that they had a reservation.

By the time they reached the table, Yuuji’s excitement was back.

“Wow! Look at the view from up here!”

“Hmm. A good view over the stadium. See that? That’s the stage where Takashima will be performing.”

“Ahh, so that’s why you chose this place.”

“Indeed. Reconnaissance. That, and the steak here is superb. We can see them work on putting up the stage props. That way, we’ll sense if anything deliberate is happening behind the scenes.”

With that, the sorcerer began to study the menu. The meal was, unsurprisingly, a fantastic experience. Nanami ordered them a selection of starters, steak for mains (with a carefully selected wine pairing for himself) and the most delicious chocolate dessert Yuuji had ever tasted. When they were done, the pink-haired boy sat back and sighed.

“How come we get to do all of this? Do the higher-ups really approve all the costs?”

Nanami sipped his wine before replying.

“Depends. If a proper motivation is provided, there’s no reason for them to refuse. Of course, this requires us to fill out a series of detailed documents that most jujutsu sorcerers don’t bother with.”

“But not you?”

“Have you forgotten my previous profession? Form-filling is my speciality. My paperwork is nothing less than exceptional and thorough. There is always solid evidence of what I need. If it is not approved, I log an official query that requires a lengthy board meeting and an extensive review of all documentation.” The corner of Nanami’s mouth crooked up in a small, rare smile. “It’s been some time since any of my requests were denied. Let it never be said that I’m not compliant.”   

Yuuji grinned in return and raised his glass of juice.

“Kanpai, Nanamin.”

There had been no sign of anything unusual during their late lunch and by the time they made their way down to the concert, the lower levels were already swarming with people. Looking around, Yuuji saw, unsurprisingly, that most of the crowd consisted of young women. They were chattering and laughing loudly, and everywhere he looked he saw faces alight with excitement. Contrary to the atmosphere that was growing around them, Yuuji’s concern spiked. There was potential danger lurking somewhere, and it would be difficult to detect in such a large mass of people.

Nanami steered him through the crowd to a separate entrance where fewer people had queued. This was the entry-point for those with VIP tickets. They were soon through the checkpoint and were directed by various ushers up a winding staircase to a wide outdoor box that spanned an entire floor. Although sheltered from the elements, the box projected overhead towards the stage, offering a perfect view of where the performance would take place. They took their seats, scanning their surroundings carefully. Thus far, there had still been no sign of elevated cursed energy.

“Yuuji, remember why you’re here.”

“Oh, right!”

Springing up, the youngster made his way around, using the allowance Nanami had given him to buy some merch and snacks from the vendors that were stationed against the back of the VIP box. He began to slowly make a circuit, pausing now and then to start casual conversation with others who were also making purchases. Soon enough, his friendly and open personality had drawn a few others into his orbit, and he compared merch, exchanged contact details, introduced people to his awesome ‘uncle’ and even found himself invited to an online fan-club of Ryo-ri’s. Eventually, he made his way back to Nanami.

The older sorcerer had been casually sipping a coffee, eyes taking in the stage and the members of the audience who had been filling into the main area below. He glanced up as Yuuji took his seat.

“Anything?”

“Nothing so far. Everyone seems pretty normal.”

“All right. When the performance starts, you focus on the stage. I’ll check the audience.”

A lesser-known girl band opened the concert, the energy of their performance doing a lot to hype up the crowd. Yuuji played his part very convincingly, shouting encouragement and applauding loudly. Nanami bit back a smile when he noticed that others were taking their cue from his lively ‘nephew’. The first act was followed by another group and then there was a slight lull, a sense of building anticipation as the main performance drew near.

“There he is,” Nanami muttered, as Ryo-ri bounded onto the stage to a cacophony of high-pitched screams and thunderous applause. The idol hitched up his baggy jeans and swaggered from one end to the other, delivering a series of compliments to his ‘beautiful’ audience and blowing a kiss that made some of the girls in the front row look like they were about to pass out in ecstasy. Ryo-ri started with what Yuuji recognised as the biggest hit from his second album, a high energy dance number that really got the crowd on its feet.

The pink-haired teen threw himself into his own act, starting up a glow-stick dance routine in the front row that the people around them soon joined in. Nanami shifted awkwardly. As much as he had encouraged Yuuji to act the part of the excited nephew, he should have foreseen how it would make him look in comparison. The girls behind them were quick enough to catch on, because they were soon shoving their extra glow-sticks into Nanami’s hands and encouraging him to get on his feet too. Yuuji turned and snorted with laughter.

“Just follow my lead, Nanamin! It’s easy, see?”

As he waved the glow-sticks around his head and turned on the spot, Nanami’s profound sense of existential horror soon settled into detachment as he went through the motions. He was just glad that Gojo wasn’t here to witness this debacle. Soon enough, it was time for the anticipated lottery announcement. Ryo-ri made a show of pulling a piece of paper from a large bowl that had been carried onto the stage and read the number of the winning ticket. One of the women in the front row screamed in excitement and the crowd parted to allow her entry to the stage. Burly security guards did a quick check of her person before showing her through. Yuuji slowed down his routine, pausing to take a sip of water and munch on a handful of popcorn, his eyes glued to the stage. Nanami used this momentary lull to mutter the word “bathroom” and make his way to the end of the VIP box. Here, the sorcerer paused, eyes scanning the crowd carefully through his dark glasses.

The young woman, presumably one of the secretly vetted members of the talent agency, climbed onto the stage. Her hand was placed over her mouth and her eyes shone with glistening disbelief as Ryo-ri took her hand and twirled her around, dropping her softly into a plush seat that someone had brought up at some point. She was certainly a good actor. The idol began to sing a crooning ballad, one of his more popular slow-paced songs, as he danced languidly around her. Nanami frowned as he began to sense a change in the crowd’s mood. On the surface, people were hooting and cheering at the display, but there were undercurrents of negative emotion that had begun to rise like a miasma over some portions of the audience. There could be no mistaking the general feeling.

Jealousy. Resentment. Longing.

What the sorcerer had not expected was the strength of the emotion being exhibited. Was it like this at every performance with an idol in high public demand?  

Not quite.

Ryo-ri was pretty avant-garde in his approach to gaining popularity. Nanami recalled what Yuuji had mentioned earlier in the car, about how the idol was not afraid of presenting an image that was quite risky in the Japanese entertainment industry. Inviting a fan on stage was not a common practice and it was understandable, judging from the sensations Nanami was getting from the audience. But then, this was what sold tickets and drew fans into a never-ending circle of unfulfilled desire. The sorcerer allowed his mind to sink into that meditative state that allowed him to spread his senses even further, more receptive to slight changes in cursed energy. As unpleasant as the sensation was, sickly sweet with underlying bitterness brushing against the edge of his mind, he observed the swathe of people below him with unerring focus.

Ryo-ri had upped the ante of his performance, twirling strands of the ‘lucky’ woman’s hair around his finger, gyrating sensually in front of her before dropping to his knees at her feet, one hand brushing gently across her ankle. Nanami felt distaste rise in his throat as the poisonous thrum of envy from the audience grew further. Those happy faces and the applause were so deceptive, considering the hidden depths of emotion some were allowing to fill their hearts, overflowing into the space around them.

And then, he felt it.

The swell of negative emotion grew like a wave, the spike of cursed energy at its peak so sharp and subtle, like a blade honed so fine that it passed painlessly across the skin, leaving blood blooming in its wake. Across the way, Nanami saw Yuuji mask his own reaction admirably, a tiny pause in his energetic waving as he sensed it too. Scanning the crowd, Nanami frowned as the minute trace of cursed energy was lost under the current of emotion once more. With a small signal to Yuuji to stay where he was and observe, the sorcerer made his way quickly and quietly down the stairs to the security check point. Here, people could move between the VIP box and the general area freely, as long as they displayed their pass when they returned.

He emerged into the crowd, the sights, smells and sounds assailing him, tugging at his awareness like a petulant child. Focusing ahead, Nanami began trawling, edging his way slowly and meticulously forward. Glancing up he saw Yuuji take a break from dancing and lean nonchalantly against the railing, sipping an iced drink, alert to what was happening on stage. Shoulders brushed and slid across his, Nanami’s height allowing him a fairly good view over the majority of the people around him.

And so it was that he felt it again, that sharp, tingling touch of poison, dangerous and chemical on the tongue, like the scent of paint-thinner that hung in the air of empty buildings. He turned towards the source, concealed eyes searching through the throng of people. Something was definitely here. Something cunning, something with a sinister awareness that slid away from the edges of one’s perception. Feeling the tension coil within his frame, Nanami pressed on.

Ryooo – riiiiii. Ryoutaaaaa. Ryo. Ryyyyo.

It rolls so nicely off the tongue. So sweet, so sweet. A sticky fruit candy on a hot summer’s day.

He’s up there, for all of us to see. Our eyes are crawling all over him, like many, many spotlights. How precious he is. Precious as a little pearl.

He’s definitely better than all the others. Gino was a looker, oh yes, but … there was something missing. That innocent little boy act? It got old so, so quickly. Yawn. And Kiko was great too, but then he couldn’t handle the fame and went away for a while. Ick. So uncool. But Ryooooo-riiiiii. Oh, Ryo-ri. He’s … different. He owns the stage.   

His hair is shiny as tinsel under those lights, and his eyes! Oh, his blue eyes are focused and so, so dreamy. And look, look at his shirt. So translucent with sweat. Delicious.

Ryooutaaaaa. Why won’t he look this way? It’s so unfair. If he could just see me … maybe he’d be the one who wouldn’t be able to look away. Wouldn’t that be lovely?

Tiny little trickles of sweat, from his brow and upper lip. How nice if he could wipe it away and smile, right into my eyes, with that look. That look. The one in his photos, the one that makes me feel so … present. So solid. Oh yes, Ryo-ri is perfect. He’ll do.  

Last month, his sneakers were orange. Orange! Imagine, such a bright, garish colour. But Ryo-ri makes it work, somehow. He always looks so tasty. Nobody can pull off orange shoes like Ryo-ri.

But, but, what’s this? Who? Who’s here?

Is someone here to stop me? I won’t let that happen. Who is it? They can try, hahahaha! Nobody has stopped me before and they won’t now.

Wait … something’s different. Something is searching. Careful now. This doesn’t feel like anything good. I feel eyes, but different. And a presence. A strong one. Who, who is it? Where? Careful.

There! I see him. He’s coming this way. I can’t let him … who is this anyway? How dare he. I want to crush him like a stupid little bug. Like that bitch on stage, that ugly, lying, cheating, stupid, stupid, stupid little bitch. Both of them.

He’s coming closer. No, no, I can’t let this happen. Careful. Don’t get angry. Don’t let him find us.

He’s here! He’s right here. Something’s not … he’s dangerous! Get away! He’s turning this way! I can see his face! He’s … oh.

Oh.     

[ateez-himari]

LXST; RECORD ONE

[NEW UPLOAD FROM ATEEZ]

LISTEN TO 'ADDICT' NOW ON YOUTUBE

Liked by dovecameron and 2,038,019 others

ateez_official_ LXST; solo project

#ATEEZ #애이티즈 #HIMARI #히마리

View all 1,339,371 comments

donatella_versace Never in my lifetime have I seen someone this hypnotizing 💛You are truly one of a kind, the diamond of this generation

no1likehim hear me out, she could very well be a real life siren because personally if I was out at sea and seeing her out in the water like THIS...idc I'm jumping in 💅🏾

mitosglass.es Wait omg she was saying she'd perform a new song later in the tour and that the outfit was dangerous 😰If she comes out in this in Toronto I'm actually gonna lose it, I'll be in shock, you'll never see me again

mochimochimari stop because LUST is the title of this project?! (don't try to hide it, we know) she has insane musical duality bc wdym she's written the most heart wrenching songs but then is gonna sing about wanting to get freaky-

sansatori is this the ATEEZ naked era 🫣first the sleeves magically disappear from their shirts, then the shirts start disappearing on stage, now we have MIN HIMARI coming out of the water like this?? pls i would do anything for this woman to even look at me

himarry.me Mingi pls give me a chance with your girlfriend...he literally stole the most beautiful woman from us how are we supposed to cope now 😭also we won guys, we had to beg her to release her solo project and it was so worth it, we blessed humanity💪

31 July 2024 • See Original

Industry Reactions

When asked about the industry's current aces in a live broadcast, second generation artist Taeyang responded with this statement; 'The first one that comes to mind is Himari from ATEEZ, people call her the second Hand of Midas for a reason. 'Addict' was created using her voice in various ways instead of relying on instrumentals and it came out like an angel call. It's almost entrancing whenever she sings, almost like a siren song.'

Taemin obviously had to boast about his protegee and posted this on his story; 'From creative direction of this music video to having only her name in the credits, there really is nothing she can't do!❤️I'm so honored to have such a talented artist by my side, go stream this song everyone, quickly!'

Former B.A.P leader Bang Yongguk posted the music video link with this comment underneath; 'i've been listening to this on repeat ever since she sent it to me and it feels like I'm being transported to heaven (even though the lyrics are far from holy ㅋㅋ) her voice really is on a whole other level, it could lead sailors into the water'

Twice leader Jihyo could not seem to stop praising their former trainee; 'I can't believe ATEEZ took this angelic artist from us 🥺The dancing is as mesmerizing as watching a ribbon flow in the wind, the vocals sink deep into the soul, the visuals make you fall in love...I could go on. I'm so proud of you Himie, we all are!'

Netizens Reactions

@/himaswife on X 'If i was a six foot tall rapper with a deep voice hearing this song that was definitely made about me...imagine such a stunning woman singing about how infatuated she is with you 😳 I would kiss and marry her on the spot (i'm not jealous at all why would you think that-)'

@/yeosangiecookie on X 'she definitely chose to do it in English for a reason and she was right, it's so sensual but innocent at the same time that you just can't stop listening to it. i thought it would be provocative from the project title but the lyrics were just suggestive enough to make you think about the possibilities but not picture anything, truly a masterpiece from our maknae as always 🙌'

@/ateenypresent on X 'the way you can tell these lyrics are genuine because it's things we point out every time, especially the "These things I'm thinking when you're looking in my eyes". if you don't notice the way her and Mingi make eye contact you must be blind...look i'm delusional and reaching but yk how in Work he says "ride [with] me"?? and how she said "fuck it i'm still riding"?? 😳'

@/yunhosbuckethat on X 'i NEED to see her performing this live, I don't even care if I have to watch it through tiktoks or a low resolution youtube video. the choreography was so beautiful, i love when she incorporates classic and contemporary stiles into her dance, it just suits her so well. plus imagine how good it would sound echoing in a stadium 🫠'

Min Siblings Updates

Hanzo on Instagram 'My wife woke me up this morning telling me that my sister's new song was so good that she'd been playing on loop for ten minutes now...first of all I'm mad that I didn't get to hear it first. More than anything though I'm so proud of her, 7.3 MILLION views in not even 24 hours for a SOLO project that was announced the day of release is genuinely insane🥹I LOVE YOU MY LITTLE TIGER 💕(I'm so playing this to the whole team before practice, the rest of you GO STREAM IT WHAT ARE YOU DOING'

Yoongi on Weverse 'There are no words to accurately describe how divine my sister's song sounds, it's so delicate yet powerful, I wouldn't be surprised if every speaker in the country starts playing it. Without a doubt I can say that she's one of if not the most talented producer of this generation, who else can manipulate vocals and instrumentals so perfectly as to transport you to another world? Our Hima, you did well, I love you ❤️'

Translated from Korean by Google

[bethelighthalazia]

Gone too far

Summary:  What if San notices his sasaengs in the crowd near you at Coachella and suddenly you are nowhere to be seen anymore?

Genre: angst, hurt/NO comfort

Pairing: bf!San X fem!reader

Additional Characters: ATEEZ - members

Word Count:  1601

Warnings: kidnapping, sasaengs, death threats, reader getting hurt, blood, panicked San, angry San, angry ateez, possibly weapons mentioned, major character death

networks: @mirohs-aurora-society

notes: I apologize in advance for any tears and heartbreaks <3

other links: n/a

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

Only a week ago, San had introduced you to ATINY as his girlfriend after a bit over a year of dating now. None of the boys would have thought that this would start a chain of actions that end up with what happened today and the following days.

It's the soundcheck for Coachella. You were settled near the stage, watching and cheering for San and the boys, while they made sure that their big performance would go perfectly fine. You knew that they're nervous, but you always believed in them. Every now and then, San glanced over to you, just like the other seven boys do, they all grew close to you, since you made San happy. 

Unbeknownst to you, there had been some of San's fans, mainly one specific sasaeng and her friends, but San had spotted them already. He had looked worried, but you thought it would only be because he's nervous about the performance, after all, they're the first korean boy group to perform here. This thought is quickly discarded when you feel something pointy being held against your side, a hand quickly wrapped around your face to cover your mouth while you're dragged into a little crowd, out of San's view.

You could hear his voice falter through the microphone, him whispering your name first before shouting it, the panic in his voice evident. Hushed voices told you to stay quiet while you were dragged away, the sharp object by now cutting into your flesh, since you only wore one of San's crop tops he brought with him. The last thing you heard before someone knocked you out, was San's broken voice calling your name again and again, followed by the sound of his microphone dropping and some faint sobs.

— San pov —

“Where is she?” Hongjoong asked, he's fuming with anger and his voice merely an angry hiss. After San broke down on stage during the sound check, they had looked everywhere, but no one had seen y/n anywhere. Now, San was sitting on the sofa, Wooyoung trying to console him while San's eyes seemed void of any life. His hyungs were discussing the search with the bodyguards and managers, but they haven't found any lead to you yet.

While Wooyoung quietly talked to San, the door to the backstage room burst open and Jongho arrived with Yeosang, some paper in his hands. “Hyung! We found this at the spot where y/nnie was watching us from…” The maknae said quietly, handing the paper to Hongjoong. It was a collection of cut out letters, blood splatters on it. The letter said that San should forget you, or the blood wouldn't be the only thing you'd lose. With a quick glance at San, Hongjoong clenched his fists, feeling angry, but also helpless. What if these people truly hurt you? What if searching for a way to get you back to his younger member would endanger your life?

“Hyung…what's that?” San's croaked voice rang through the room, his eyes focused on the paper in Hongjoong's hand. The older one already wants to put it into his pockets, yet San was quicker, snatching the paper from the captain's hand, Wooyoung and Jongho trying to stop him but failing. When San finally reads the letter, he feels tears clouding his vision, squeezing them shut to try and refocus his eyes on the cut out letters. It doesn't take too long and his legs give out under him, causing San to drop on his knees, his breath shallow and his heart feeling as if an icy hand grips around it. “It- this…this can be a coincidence…right? We don- don´t know if this really is-” He stutters, hyperventilating while speaking. Wooyoung quickly gets down next to his best friend, trying to calm him down, but it doesn't help at all. The final blow is Jongho, who holds out his hand and then opens it, your necklace, a locket with a photo of you and san inside, dangling from his fingers, the silver of the chain and pendant covered in a crimson red.

San ́s eyes widen at this sight, frozen in shock for a few moments before he just falls against Wooyoung´s chest, sobbing uncontrollably and muttering out your name between the sobs. Hongjoong watches this for a few more moments, thinking about a solution. The letter said not to include police, but it did not say anything about getting help in other ways. The captain and Seonghwa exchange a short glance before Seonghwa gets out his phone to start a livestream from backstage, Hongjoong speaking, while the eldest makes sure to get San into the view of the camera as well.

“Hello Atiny. We know our stage should begin in a few hours, but we felt the need to come live to ask you for help. As you guys can see, San is devastated, and not only him, but all of us. Y/n, San´s girlfriend has vanished and we know that she had been taken by someone. They have sent a letter, telling San to not think about her, but his fans,” Hongjoong says calmly, but his voice is shaky as he holds up the letter they got, followed by a picture of San and you. “If any of you have seen her in the last hour, please let us or our staff know, so we can get our y/n back.”

Most comments were useless, only talking about how unfair it is that you got to be his girl, not even showing concern for you at all. However, one comment got Seonghwa´s attention, his eyes wide. ‘I saw her with friends, she seemed passed out drunk tho’. He immediately sent a private message to the person through the group´s account, asking if they could explain more. The commenter explained that you seemed somewhat out of it, one of your assumed friends holding you up but when they had asked the group if they needed help, the friends seemed to have run away. Seonghwa tried to get some more answers from the commenter, but they couldn't tell him much more. A knock on the door did pull the attention away from Seonghwa´s phone and towards the door. 

Hongjoong was the one who answered the door, everyone holding their breath when they stared into the face of San ́s manager who only shook their head. “What-” The captain asked, but got cut by the manager´s words. “They´ve found her…But i don't think you should go.” He says quietly, but it's loud enough that all the boys look at him now. San tries to get up and walk towards the door, but wooyoung is quick to catch him, because his legs just give up halfway when a police officer appears behind the manager. “We need one of you to confirm that it's her.” The officer said and with a quick nod, Yunho already walked up, gesturing to the others to take care of San. Exchanging looks, the members nod, but then Wooyoung looks up at the others and waves Seonghwa over to take over holding San, so he could accompany Yunho.

The walk to where they found you felt like hours for them, neither Yunho, nor Wooyoung talking the whole time, both lost in their own thoughts. When the police officer stops, he looks at both with a concerned look, frowning. “It's not a very nice sight. But we need to know if it's her. Please step away if the sight makes you nauseous.” He says, then leads the two men to the spot they found you.

You laid there, your empty eyes staring up to the sky, at least the one that's not covered by the blood coming from a big hole that was smashed into your temple. Wooyoung grabs Yunho´s arm tightly to hold himself up at the sight, Yunho only nods and then has to avert his gaze, looking away from your destroyed body. “It- It´s y/n…” Wooyoung mumbles before stumbling away from the scene, barely holding onto his hyung before crouching down to empty his stomach outside of the police barricades. Yunho just supports his younger member before they both slowly make their way back to the backstage area where they had left San with the others, but they freeze in their tracks when they hear the blood curdling scream from the spot where the police had found your body. 

Somehow, San had convinced the others to bring him here and before anyone could manage to hold him back, he had fought his way through and stumbled through the barricades. Now, he's just kneeling there, staring at your body that quickly gets covered with a white sheet, which turns red fast. His head dropped forwards on his chest, his eyes looking empty, as if all life had drained from them. Yunho and Seonghwa hurried to grab him, pulling him up and away from the scene by his upper body and San doesn't even resist, his legs dragging over the grass. The only sounds that can be heard from San are whispered words, or rather, one word; repeating your name over and over. Without hesitation, Hongjoong cancels the second Coachella performance and all concerts and anything for the next few months, even making a video statement that because of what happened, they won't be doing any live performances or anything for the time being. Then, he returns to taking care of his members, tears in his eyes because you were loved by all of them, they all were grateful for the love you gave San all the time.

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson, @hotteokkay, @minkilicious, @bunnliix,

@gong-fourz, @yeosangiess, @dinossaurz, @scuzmunkie, @h3arteyes4mingi,

@vnessalau

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

[thedvilsinthedetails]

Rosekiller band au microfic!!!

hey guys, I wrote the first microfic in the lil series I’m doing, you can find the original idea for it here

ik I’d said I’d wait but I’m impatient hahaha

(some of the ppl that asked to be tagged if i ever wrote it: @always-reading @blu3stars @chaoticgaywitch @1284646imjusthere @depressedtheatrekiddo @idk-what-to-put-here-123)

anyway just wrote this pretty quickly so it might have some mistakes n stuff sorry abt that I don’t do grammar or punctuation anyway here you go, enjoy:

(EDIT: link to part 2)

••• Pink lipstick stains, cigarette butts

I lie in bed, I hate my guts

A day in the dark 

A muddled afternoon, yeah

Barty pressed his cheek close to Evan as they sang into the same microphone. He could feel the buzz of the music through the vibration of the stage below him. 

Oh baby darling how I long 

To become your suicide blonde

He ran a hand through Evan’s platinum curls as he sung the line. Evan leaned into it, eyes meeting Barty’s, grinning as he sung. 

To lie beside my Romeo

Oh what a wicked way to go

Evan’s fingers moved deftly on the guitar, he lifted a hand, twirled the pick in his hand before resuming immediately, he didn’t take his eyes off Barty the entire song. 

•••

“Ah fucking hell look at the comments Bee.”

Evan was sat at the base of the sofa, scrolling through the comments on a video of their performance last night. He held the phone up to Barty on the sofa, who squinted before taking it and reading it out to the room.

“Skittlefiend57 says ‘omg Blarty and Evan! I’m so gone 4 them u guys’”

“Blarty?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“We’ve been getting my name wrong all these years guys. Wow that’s a crazy thing to discover at 23.”

“Bad spelling aside, there’s way more. And it’s not all good stuff.”

Evan said and Barty looked back down at the comments. 

“Barty and Evan are queerbaiting, they act so gay but they’re not dating. It’s all clearly faked to get attention. Fucking pathetic. Why thank you peenisonapizza. Glad to see you know us personally and can therefore speak on our behalf.”

“Don’t know why they’re obsessed with accusing a band with two trans guys of queer baiting.”

Evan pinched his furrowed brow and shook his head in disbelief.

“They don’t even care about the fucking music, just us and whether we’re dating or not.”

Barty laid down on the sofa, dropping one arm around Evan and resting his chin on Evan’s shoulder.

“Hey cheer up Rosie. They care about the music. There’s a few assholes but that’s a given. If they weren’t talking about us acting gay they’d be talking about whether my tattoos are real or fake.”

“Or some conspiracy theory that Reggie’s not actually lactose intolerant.” 

Pandora chipped in.

“I’m not lactose intolerant!”

Regulus replied indignantly.

“Is that you talking or your obsession with chocolate?”

Dorcas rolled her eyes as she spoke. Regulus avoided her gaze as he mumbled out a half hearted response.

“Remus got me hooked on Tony’s chocolonely.”

While the rest of the group squabbled Evan leaned his head back against Barty’s shoulder, he pulled out his phone.

***

Evan.Rosier✔️

Hey everyone, I’ve noticed there’s a lot of speculation about me and @Barty.Grouch.JR and I wanted to say that it’s none of your business, you can think what you like but please don’t ask us or spam comment sections with theories. As always thank u so much for listening to our music, the skittles luv u x

***

Evan breathed in and passed the phone to Barty.

“You think this is good?”

Barty read it over and nodded.

“You’ve been really nice about it too.”

Evan huffed out a laugh.

“I was normal about, not my fault you would have said something like-“

“Roses are red, violets are blue, you are a cunt and I hate you @peenisonapizza.”

Barty took a small bow, flourishing his hand dramatically. Evan turned around and flicked him in the leg, which only succeeded in making him laugh. 

 “Ok I’ve posted it.”

Evan clicked post and watched as the ‘likes’ number quickly began to climb.

“Now I’m just not gonna read the comments on that post.”

Evan huffed out a laugh and Barty patted his shoulder.

“Good on you Rosie. Now who wants to watch a movie?”

Evan clambered onto the sofa next to Barty who leaned against him immediately, head resting on his shoulder.

“Rosie.”

Barty whispered.

“Yeah Bee?”

“Give me your phone. Look we both know it will bother you all evening not reading those comments if you have your phone on you. Just- out of sight out of mind, I’ll give it back to you once the movie is over but you deserve to have an evening off.”

Barty’s eyes were wide, expression genuine as he spoke. Evan hesitated then reached in his pocket for his phone.

“Don’t spam it with photos alright?”

A smirk spread on Barty’s face quickly, eyes sparkling.

“I make no promises Ev.”

Evan rolled his eyes but handed the phone over. 

The movie was something Pandora had picked, something from the late 80s, a strange mix of fantasy, reality and meta theatre that Evan actually didn’t hate.

Still he drifted to sleep at some point watching it, the stress of the day had clearly gotten to him and something about the way the top of Barty’s head made for a great pillow probably didn’t help.

Either way he woke up to the feeling of Barty shaking him.

“Come on sleeping beauty, let’s get you to a real bed. Here’s your phone back.”

Evan rubbed his eyes and got up, stumbling to his room as thanked Barty in a half asleep murmur.

He got to his room and turned on his phone, wincing at the glaring brightness, turning it down quickly. He opened his photos app, just as he’d suspected his camera roll was filled with new photos.

He began to scroll through them. There was one of his friends, all waving at the camera. A zoomed in shot of Inigo Montoya‘s face on the TV screen from a funny angle. Himself, looking dumb, sleeping with his mouth slightly open. He scrolled to the next picture and stopped. Barty with that cheeky grin of his, curled up against Evan, flipping off the camera. Eyes twinkling in that way that always made Evan feel a little warmer, a little brighter. He fell asleep again dreaming of a body pressed against his in a hug, the hum of a movie no longer playing, soft hair tickling his face and mischief painted in big brown eyes. 

For info about the position they’re sat in (it’s clear in my mind but I’m not sure how clear it is in the description), the song that they are playing and the movie they watch, look below the read more:

Position they are in before Evan gets on the sofa, red is Evan, green is Barty - yes Barty is uncomfortable, yes he would sit like that anyway bc Barty will do fucking contortion to be able to hug Evan argue with a wall

Don’t question the drawing skills, I can’t draw and did it in a moving vehicle

the song is EVOL by MARINA

the movie is the princess bride suggested by the lovely @lulublack90 who u shld defo check out bc she’s rlly amazing at writing

(Oh also Evan and Reggie are both trans in this)

[lillified]

do the characters, both autobots and decepticons, know primus is essentially their planet or do they view it as a myth? do they see primus as a god or worship him?

hey! that’s a very good question, which leads into the topic of:

Religion

There are several different accounts of the exact details of Cybertronian history, and that is down to several factors: decades of major conflict, information control, the hostile reign of the Quintessons, attempted eradication of language, and many other individual issues to boot. One idea especially in contention is creation.

The account which has dominated discussion for the majority of modern history is one of a divine creator, Primus. The thirteen original Primes, considered to be the first Cybertronians, recall an immense being, Primus, being the source of all life. Many accounts (including Alpha Trion himself) take this literally, depicting Primus as a sort of deity. In this version of events, all elements of Cybertronian history, including the Primes themselves, take on a very mystical quality.

Though the religious angle is the popular one, a different version of the narrative gained interest into the later stages of the Zeta era, especially in scientific circles. Cybertron is not actually a “planet” in the scientific sense of the term—in reality, it is a mass of rock, metal, and space debris encasing a massive “superorganism,” a planet-sized living thing on which the Cybertronians are comparatively microscopic. It is from this organism that all Energon is extracted, and, as far as science is aware, this organism is the only naturally occurring source of it that exists. Its death would inevitably mean the death of all Cybertronian life, in time.

Nobody is in debate about the existence of this organism: what makes it controversial is the speculation surrounding it. Recently, a wave of scientific questioning has posited an evolutionary link between this organism and all life on Cybertron, suggesting that, in one way or another, the superorganism is the last recorded ancestor. The theory suggests that Titans, a class of life on Cybertron, are the closest relatives of the Cybertronians, establishing a direct link to the planet’s modern inhabitants.

Albeit plausible, this theory is extremely controversial in religious circles. Many modern fields of science have named the planetary being the “Primus superorganism,” which, in the minds of many, is sacrilegious. Titans being related to modern Cybertronians would undermine many of the proposed ideas of divine destiny and significance spread throughout history. The Titans themselves are “monstrous” in appearance and behavior, and the idea of Cybertron’s forefather being something so unrecognizable is an existential prospect. In the modern day, these opposing clades of belief, called “divine truthers” and “Titan originalists” clash mercilessly.

While a breadth of modern knowledge supports the latter conclusion, it does beg the question: if this is true, why do so many, including original Primes themselves, dispute the idea? The answer may also lie in history. Alpha Trion fought on the side of Prima in the First War, a devastating conflict which split the original Primes and their people down the middle. Following the defeat of Megatronus and their allies, it was in Prima’s favor to control all accounts of history, writing them to be in his favor as the destined winner of this conflict. Even following his death, and, eventually, the reign of the Quintessons, this reasoning stuck around, finding new life as a way to hold up pre-Quintesson era Cybertron as a wonderful, utopian society. Alpha Trion was not a stranger to omitting and adjusting his accounts of history to make his place in it less controversial. Still, though, there is a very real chance we will never know whether he believes what he says.

[rosiesdisneydrama]

Witch Way Next? CH1: Stanley's No Good, Very Bad Night

Ao3 Link

Stanley and Stanford haven’t seen each other in over a decade. No letters, no postcards, no (direct) phone calls, nothing had connected them over those ten years. Stanford had become a scientist studying the strange and unusual in a tiny town in Oregon with the aid of his assistant and college roommate, Fiddleford. He was dedicated to making a scientific discovery that would change the world and often forgot to pull himself out long enough to talk to his own family. (He didn’t even know where his twin was, never mind how to contact him.) Stanley… Stanley became a witch. A “Handyman for Hire” who traveled all over the country for his work. It wasn’t a glamorous lifestyle, but it was a comfortable one. Neither of them expected to run into each other again. And certainly not because of Stan having the worst stroke of luck possible.

AN : Hey all! I've been playing with an au where Stan became a witch during his vagabond days and everything went off the rails because of it. And, at first, it's not even intentional on Stan's part. XD

Originally, the twins were supposed to run into each other by chance due to Stan being hired to do something in Gravity Falls but when I decided to start writing the story, it decided that wasn't the way things were going to play out. So now this AU is starting with Stanley having the worst night ever and ending up in a hospital! (Sorry Stan.)

Enjoy! Also, heads up, there's some swearing in here.

.

.

Stanley clutched his lighter like it was a lifeline. And, right then, it was.

The flames he was conjuring from it were the only thing between him and the two Rippers who were itching to live up to their names by ripping him apart. His chest was heaving from the amount of magic and running he'd been using to get away from them.

But they were fucking Rippers. Creatures of dust and darkness! They didn't get tired, so the only thing the chase had done was wear him out. This was not what he signed up for when he was asked to come to New Mexico to take a look at something weird going on. Some “strange animal attacks” by the woods that didn't look right.

The magic folks thought it might have been some loose beast or a mystic guard animal that wasn't leashed right. At least, that was what his client had thought it was.

“Nothing too worrying,” the guy insisted when he’d hired Stan over the phone the previous week to come take a look around. “The humans think it's a couple of coyotes. I’m pretty sure they’re wrong, though. I just want a clearer picture so I can call in a professional to handle it.”

“Animal Attacks” his ass.

Ripper attacks were nothing to make jokes about. He’d never seen one firsthand, but Pops had made sure to cover them so Stanley would know when it would be smarter to get the hell out of dodge instead of sticking around.

Honestly, Pop's descriptions hadn't held a candle to the real things, now that he’d finally had the chance to see them himself.

They were tall and human-shaped, but there was something wrong with them. And the pitch-dark forest and light from the half-moon above certainly wasn’t making them look any better.

Their limbs were too long and thin, their skin stretched taut over their bones with hands and feet a sickening black and tipped in claws like wild animals. Their snarling mouths were rimmed in the same black as their hands and feet and opened just enough to show jagged-looking fangs. Fangs that looked like someone tried to make teeth out of a bunch of obsidian daggers and stuffed them into a human-sized mouth that couldn’t quite fit them. He could barely see their sunken, hollow eyes glowing a faint sickly yellow in the dark from between the trees. Tattered clothing hung off of their too-thin frames and matted hair draped around their faces, they looked like corpses that were somewhere between the stages of “newly dead” and “risen zombie”.

And they were up and moving in the dark forest, where it would have been near impossible to see them until it was too late. Or if, like Stanley, they had gone there specifically looking for something strange and unusual in the forest.

He’d gone out to gather some evidence during the night since some beasts would only come out at night and he’d been trying to figure out what it may have been.

The client had said it wasn’t a big deal and he’d believed them and hadn’t been ready for anything big. He’d expected something small, something relatively easy for him to handle. Or at least identify for someone else to take care of.

But no it had to be fucking Rippers!

A lone handyman like him wasn’t enough for a single Ripper, never mind two of the damn things! That was a six-man job at the very least! But he’d made the mistake of going off on his own. Admittedly because he hadn’t had enough information at the start but still. (Of all the nights to forget his knife in his duffle instead of strapping it to his belt.)

Clearing them out was beyond his skill range. It just wasn’t possible for him to pull it off alone.

Stan gritted his teeth through his exhaustion, the flames at his fingertips flickering weaker for just a moment. He was running out of steam and he knew it. The damn things had been running him ragged, and the pitch-dark forest wasn’t helping either. He had no idea how close or far he was from town, or if he could find some miraculous way to lose them while he tried to figure it out.

(Damn it, he was already running on fumes thanks to Rico’s bullshit about Stan “owing” him. He’d barely managed to ditch the bastard’s lackeys before he’d gotten this call. Stan didn’t owe him shit, he just wanted a witch under his thumb.)

He didn't know how long it was until sunrise would show up and save his sorry ass. It was probably the only way he’d be getting out of this alive. He just had to hold on until then. Just until the sun came up.

A bitter part of him whispered that he probably wasn't going to make it out of this one.

But, if by some miracle he did survive, he was demanding double- no triple pay from the guy. And extra for the medicine he’d be using to patch himself up. Most of the shots he’d taken so far were minor (or he hoped they were minor) but he doubted his luck would hold for much longer.

If he didn't make it then, at the very least, he was going to take one of these bastards down with him. He wasn’t planning on going down without putting up one hell of a fight.

There was a rattling hiss and one of the Rippers vanished.

Shit.

Stanley wasn't able to get the makeshift barrier of flames up fast enough to stop the attack from hitting home.

In the span of a blink, the creature was in his face, snarling and hissing.

He screamed as a warped hand of blackened claws raked down the side of his face and neck, blood splattering on the ground. He stumbled back from the sudden, blinding pain radiating from the wounds.

(Was it deep? He didn't know and there was no time to figure it out.)

The second Ripper surged after the first, successfully sinking its teeth and claws into his arm, ripping a hole through his clothes and ripping out a chunk of skin and muscle when he wrenched free on reflex. 

Fire roared from the lighter clutched in his hand, roiling around him in a wicked tornado of light and heat. Scorching the two horrid things and driving them back enough for Stanley to gasp out a spell to strengthen the blaze and push them further away. But with the dangerous side effect of near-blinding him after his mad dash through the black forest around him.

His heart hammered in his ears and he squinted desperately through the flames to keep watch on the rippers. The two vile things screeched and charged again and Stanley threw himself blindly from their path, once again desperately trying to lose them.

(Distance. Distance. He needed to get some distance between them and him. And find someplace where he could properly see to fight back.)

He’d nearly slammed into a tree in the effort, stumbling over a tree root. By some miracle, trying to keep from breaking his nose on the trunk also managed to let him evade the claws of one of the rippers.

His hair still stood on end at how close they came.

Adrenaline turned the fight into a blurry haze, after that.

A whirlwind of claws and fire and increasingly desperate blasts of magic. Stanley threw everything he had in his (too small) inventory at them, but it was far from enough to keep himself safe from harm.

Even if, by some stroke of good fortune, he’d found his way to the far, abandoned edges of town. But now he was being backed against empty buildings where no one would hear him if he screamed for help.

No, he was still on his own. With the promise of help being dangled in front of him, just out of his reach.

Claws and fangs ripped at his arms, his legs, and his back. He could barely stand from the damage he was taking. There was a serious new slice over his stomach that was agony but he forced himself to ignore it. The only things keeping him upright and moving were the potent mixture of stubbornness, spite, and adrenaline. (And some terror.) All he could do was power through the pain he was in to survive.

(But he was still losing. He wouldn't make it to sunrise. He would never see the people who'd changed his life again. He’d never see his family, his brothers, his Ma, ever again.)

Sunken, glowing eyes glared into Stanley's as one of the Rippers got past his guard again, seizing his face in a painfully tight grip. He didn’t have a chance to do more than gasp in pain from the sudden pressure on the gashes that had been carved in his face before the thing smashed his head against the brick wall behind him.

His world went dark and he never felt himself hit the ground.

(He didn't know that, at that moment, a group of Hunters arrived on the scene after hearing his initial scream, following the blind flames like they were flares. They saved him from the Rippers that had been terrorizing the area and the reason he’d been hired in the first place, though he hadn’t known it when he’d first come.)

(He didn't know that one of them had called an ambulance for him. Claiming that they'd found another “Animal Attack” victim and saved his life in the process. Thanks to them, he survived the attack. And that had been more than he’d thought he’d manage that night.)

(He was on the fence about everything that unfolded afterward.)

[herefortheships]

Things I would love to get in BJ3, in no particular order of importance.

Ok so this post has been in my drafts for a while 😂 Enough time to make this a pretty long post. Some of these (or, maybe all of these 😆) are unlikely to happen, but I'm just sharing my little hopes and fangirl dreams. I decided to share the things I do NOT want as a separate post, because then this would be way too long (spoiler alert: it already is too long 😅). I will just link this post to the other one, and vice versa, when I post it.

Here we go, things I would love to get in BJ3:

The return of the line "I myself am, strange and unusual". Doesn't necessarily have to be the full phrase as long as "strange and unusual" is used to describe Lydia or something related to Lydia. Bonus points if Lydia calls Betelgeuse "strange and unusual". Extra bonus points if it's part of her reasoning to fall in love with him or explaining to Astrid why she's even attracted to him. Because he's strange and unusual. lol

Lydia taking up photography again. I wanna see her walking around with her camera taking photos again.

Betelgeuse either being set loose, or returning to life again for act three. It can be for a brief portion earlier in the movie, too; like as part of act two, and then he goes back to being a ghost for whatever madness happens in act three. (But, for act three it feels more fitting. It'd be cool if part of act three had Betelgeuse able to walk freely in the world of the living for only one night [on Halloween], bonus points if he's in the flesh, like, alive for one night. Cool idea, but unlikely. Yet, this girl dreams).

Betelgeuse and Astrid bonding. I want to see them interact and get along better than anyone would have expected. She can hate him at the start of the movie, but then grow fonder of him as the events in the movie unfold.

That said: Stepdad Betelgeuse! Lydia, Betelgeuse, and Astrid becoming a family by the end. We all know how in love I am with the idea of them all becoming a family. If the movie ends this way, they can even continue the series as an animated show about their odd little family! I dream. It'd be sweet to see Beej actually try to be a good dad to Astrid because in life he never got the chance to be a father, or even decide if he wanted to be one. Now that he gets a chance he wants to be the best dad. 🥹 (Making myself emotional with an unlikely scenario. But again, I dream 😌). It would also be funny if he's trying to be a good dad and kinda failing because, he's a ghost and also he's Betelgeuse 😆, kinda like him trying to reach out to Lydia and romance her, and instead scaring her in BJBJ.

Lydia saying "Though I know I should be wary..." before summoning Betelgeuse. She doesn't have to say the full chant, but it'd be cool if she said those words as a shout out to the cartoon!

A totally wild (and possibly whacky) Betelgeuse and Lydia sex scene. 🤭 Bonus points if it starts with a wild make out session. Extra bonus points if Betelgeuse is a ghost (i.e they don't have him be alive and all cleaned up for it lol I'm sorry, Winona, but you'll have to eat up that stage makeup off of Michael's face. Oops). Extra extra bonus points if Lydia accidentally banishes him saying his name during the act, just because that'd be a hilarious way to end the scene 😂.

Lydia having a hard time accepting that she has feelings for Betelgeuse at first.

I would also love to meet Lydia's real mom.

Delia and Astrid being team Betelgeuse and supporting Lydia being with him.

Delia must be in BJ3 of course. She did say she was gonna stick around until Lydia begged her (and Charles) to move on, so we'll definitely be seeing her again unless they forced her into the Soul Train.

It'd be cool if Astrid is the one to summon Betelgeuse this time, at first, actually.

The story ending with Betelgeuse taking the Soul Train to the Great Beyond next to Lydia, if they don't end it just with them married and starting their married life. Even though Betelgeuse has been freed of his burdens and owes no more time as a civil servant (think loophole, or just as a result of having been freed of his curse by Lydia [see my Betelgeuse and marriage theory; that's how I'd like it to go, personally 💜] which resulted in allowing him to finally pass on) he'd stick around and wait for Lydia. So yes, *Not saying Lydia has to die in this movie, but when it's her time, it'd be sweet if Lydia and Betelgeuse take the train together. Even if they end the third movie with Beetlebabes married, and we don't get to see the end end of their story together, I want to imagine that at the very end they're taking that train together, even if one of them has to wait for the other to be able to pass on.

The return of "Jump in the Line". It would be a dream if BJ3 ends with "Jump in the Line" or includes it at some point in the movie. Bonus points if Betelgeuse and Lydia dance to it. Extra bonus points if it's their wedding after-party song! And Astrid and Delia join in the dancing. How cute would that be (man this list is getting more and more unrealistic, but this would be so perfect to me, if it happened lol 😭🥹💕).

Now that we're at the Harry Belafonte music part of this wishlist, another song I would like is "Sweetheart from Venezuela" lol. I understand if they don't want to include these songs though, since Harry Belafonte music in the first film is more connected to the Maitlands. Even though the lyrics of "Sweetheart from Venezuela" make me feel like the song was picked to be be in the movie because of the Betelgeuse x Lydia marriage situation 😆. If you don't remember the lyrics, they start "Juanita, my darling, you sure you love me? Sí, señor! You feel in your heart you will marry to me? Sí, señor! You promise to love me the rest of you life? Sí, señor! I love Juanita! My sweetheart from Venezuela." So as you can see, the song is about getting married, and specifically about marrying someone from another country, in Beetlejuice's case, Lydia marrying Betelgeuse, someone who is dead. So I feel like the movie starting with that song it was alluding to that. But this isn't what this post is about! 😂 Anyway they can include his music; in a way, his music is also connected to Lydia. It's part of her teen years and probably reminds her of the Maitlands, whom she must still love very much.

The movie needs to include another Betelgeuse and Lydia dance scene.

Also the wedding scene (there HAS to be a wedding, ok) should be more intimate. I don't think Tim Burton should try to top the epicness of the McArthur Park scene, unless he has something absolutely crazy and even more beautiful in his mind. So maybe it should be more lowkey. Even if he tries to top the BJBJ wedding scene and fails, I'm sure I will still love whatever he comes up with, as long as the wedding succeeds this time around.

Did I already mention a Beetlebabes kiss? There has to be a kiss.

The return of Delores as a proper villain.

The return of Wolf Jackson! I just really liked him.

If only it was possible, the return of Bob. I understand if he's not coming back, though. But I wish he would. He was Betelgeuse's friend (Beej has to appreciate him more if he does come back, though...)

A cute family scene with Lydia, Beej, and Astrid.

And finally, a proper ending that closes the story in a satisfying way, but that also leaves it open in a sense that the story is not over-over, so it could potentially continue as a series (even if animated) eventually. But even if it's kinda open, it has to be satisfying. Like, it ending with Beetlebabes married and all of them living together as a family, that'd be a satisfying ending that's still pretty open to continue the story as a series. If they do decide to make the story fully over and done with, though, then I already wrote up there what I'd like: for Betelgeuse and Lydia to pass on to the Great Beyond together.

These are my wishes. Of course, realistically I know a lot of this or all of it may not happen, but it's what I'd like to see. And I'm sure I'm gonna keep having ideas of what I'd like to see, so I will STOP this post here or I risk this becoming a mammoth post of unrealistic expectations. 😅 I feel like some of these are possible, but ofc I'm biased. The thing it all boils down to, what I want the most is a happy ending for all the main characters, and for that happy ending to involve canon, fully reciprocated, Beetlebabes. 💕

Next post: the things I do NOT want to see and my fears for BJ3.