#everyone looked like their best selves

[maiaska]

“i can’t stop looking at her t-t-t..face”

NASTY DOG!ELLIE x MEAN!POPULAR!READER

Synopsis: you were a popular girl in school, pretty and mean, the whole package of course and ellie? yeah she was head over heels for you.

Authors note: hey guyssss lol, this is my first fic ever but i hope it was okay, feel free to give me critic, (my first language isn’t english so there might be mistakes)

OCTOBER

yeah okay, ellie was nasty…there was no denying it and she knew that very well.

she wasn’t nasty in the form of hygiene and basic human decency but it was more in the desire department. she wanted nothing more than to get her face shoved into a pussy and do everything and anything to please you.

Even her friends took notice, it wasn’t unusual for her best friend dina to call her out numerous times a day, “jesus ellie, quit ogling over her” to which ellie would throw her hands in the air and look at her best friend with an annoyed and pouty look, “im not ogling, she’s just in my eyesight…s’not my fault”. Ellie knew she was totally drooling at the sight of you, her eyes never leaving your beautiful face, and your tempting body…you were just so perfect, so blissfully perfect it even annoyed her a little because the chance of you ever looking in her way, it was laughable, no way in hell could you like her.

Ellie wasn’t unpopular, in fact she had many friends and a great social life, that didn’t exclude the fact that she was hardcore loser but people didn’t really notice that…except you and your friends of course.

It was like you were cut out from a 2000s lame repeating teenage movie, so pretty, so poetic yet so fucking mean.

you were considered one of the prettiest girl in the school, nobody admitted it out loud but everyone knew the power you held along with that. you had many admires, many “suitors”…literally. you were a part of the ever lasting “popular clique”. you and your friends were a higher power in the school, you were of status, of value, of position, or at least that’s what your friendgroup had convinced themselves of.. it didn’t matter though, you and your friends made sure people knew you were better than them.

oh and your favorite thing? making people feel useless, making them squirm under the gaze of your piercing and almost stinging eyes.

ellie hated that.

just like any other kid who hadn’t been brainwashed yet, of course she hated it, getting made fun of or treated like a dog is never pleasant, but the weird thing? she never really did despise you for that. there was something about you that made you so intriguing no matter how much of a bitch you were to others.

in your eyes, you weren’t mean. at least not like your friends who buillied kids for merely looking in their way, and shit talked people while they were present, to make them feel weak. no, you weren’t like that, in fact you could be really sweet and kind, but sometimes the sass and attitude just over-shined that unfortunately..but to ellie’s sake? it made you even more fucking hot, even though you constantly stepped on her. Like a snake with venom, you and your friends would walk past ellie and her friends in the hallway, you would look at her with this nasty look on your face, a complete grimace of utter disbelief and disgust and then you’d scoff, in ellies eyes? you had looked at her, acknowledged her, given her a bit of your attention…and it only made her want to be your lap dog, but unfortunately that’s all the attention ellie had ever gotten from you…mean stares.

dina and her boyfriend jesse would notice the way ellie’s eyes lighted up slightly when you grimaced at her, they both scoffed to them selves, knowing what a complete fool their friend was.

at night after a boring school day, ellie would lie in her bed with her phone dangling from her cold and calloused hand, her eyes focused on the sight of you- from a picture she found on your instagram, your graciously perfect curves and thighs, your eyes that looked like the universe, your glistening skin…oh, ellie was in a dangerous trance. Her other hand working on her puffy pink pussy that so desperately needed to get touched. pumping in and out with her slender fingers, ellie let out soft whimpers and noises, imagining that you were the one who made her feel like this, your rough but gentle fingers making her squirm and moan while you had that powerful smirk on your face, the one you always have when talking to someone below you, a stark contrast to the innocenct smiles you’d offer the teachers and those stupid boys who shamelessly flirted with you, their eyes only focusing on your round curvy tits…that made her furious, she knew she wasn’t exceptionally better than them but she was far more discreet and the difference between her and those men? she wanted to do everything you told her to…meanwhile they just wanted to use her body- in ellie’s eyes you were a goddess, in theirs? another fuckable girl to boost their ego.

She’d imagine you riding her dick and screaming out her name, bouncing up and down on the silicone as you bit your lip, making you feel so fucking good and carefree, while still knowing she’d never be in the position to fuck you, to dominate you, no no no…she’d be too pathetic for that, instead she’d be grinding on your ass, humping her skin on yours as you degrade her with your venomous words, pathetic dog, you wanna fuck me? then earn it..

you would make a fool out of her, make her feel useless just like you did to poor students on a normal school day.…but with ellie? your cruel taunting words wouldnt work on her, she’d only want more of you.

this was all in her imagination anyway but it wouldn’t stop her from cumming into her black boxers for the third time this night, now filled with her juices, only because of you and the irritating grip you had on her mind.

she’d lay back on her bed after her high, tired and touch deprived as her own fingers were never enough, she should feel ashamed, and she sometimes did but truth be told…ellie did not regret it at all, she knew she was nasty, nasty for imagining you, nasty for making you her sex fantasy, nasty for not giving a fuck. but she couldn’t stop herself.

₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊🍁 *ੈ✩‧₊˚

OCTOBER 28TH

i’m the highlights of october, everyone’s favorite month, a party had been planned like usual from one of the notorious party hosts, everyone was invited, which could only mean one thing...chaos.

After having brainstormed with dina and jesse for about a week, ellie had finally managed to figure out what her costume would be, it would be as simple as a wolf...a quick memory of her and old best friend trying on halloween masks, giggles and shitty puns running through her mind with a smile on her face, yeah- this was perfect.

ironically enough you had choosen to dress up as a cat, with ears, a painted nose and long nails that could snatch any guy or girl you had your eye on whether they wanted you or not, you’d have the power to get them anyways. a fierce kitty cat fitted you perfectly, it was a costume made for you.

Inside the enormous house, music was blasting and pounding, lights flickering all the colors, the smell of alcohol and sweat evidently stuck out. A glance around at all the people in costumes, it was almost the same atmosphere like there would be in a masquerade ball, it was the thrilling idea of putting on a mask for the night, and letting yourself let lose,

this wasn’t a normal party no, this was a chance to be/do/act any way you’d like, and many people had realized that, including ellie. The auburn haired girl had been wanting to talk with you for such a long time but she never had the guts to actually do it, in classes she would always imagine you dropping your pen, then she’d reach out and pick it up for you to take, hands brushing, fate happening, but of course something like that never actually did make it out of her mind.

Her mind had been running wild the day before the party, hell even the week before, the possibility of her longing desires becoming real?…she couldn’t contain herself, the thought of having a chance to talk to you, without the social structures and thick line between popular and not, it was exciting.

Ellie and her friends were sipping beers and passing around a fat joint, Ellie was sitting on the couch, her fair skin filled with freckles like stars, that nobody had ever seen, as she rarely shows her body. her fur glove paws wrapped around the joint and brought it to her lips, she took a long and well deserved hit, weed filling her lungs and system. the familiar feeling was ever so soothing, ellie made a content sigh and leaned back on the couch, her eyes traveling up to the crowd of people standing around and her eyes land on you, she immediately takes notice to your outfit, heat creeping up on her cheeks, a red tint covering her face and one single thought

holy fuck.

the way your dress hugged your body was enough to send ellie into a complete spiral, or the way your face was slightly painted, with your eyes covered in black eyeshadow, making you look like you could manipulate someones mind just by a quick glance.

ellie couldnt tear her eyes away from you, it was impossible when you looked so damn good, she wanted nothing more than for you to look at her, give her attention, give her validation. she wanted nothing else but to be at your feet. Ellie was ready to bite you, like a dog running after a cat, she’d be on your tail…leaping next to you at every step you took. Her gaze secretly lands on your chest, plump tits looking like a snack for her to devour, she wanted her tongue all over you, to lick you up, to feel your honey colored, shiny ski-

“hello?? earth to ellie?” the girl was pulled out of her trance, which might have been good because ellie was suddenly feeling way too hot and lustful, yeah it was the definitely the weed's fault, or so she convinced herself as if she pinning over you yesterday. “fuck- sorry yeah, what were you saying dee?” dina punched her arm and rolled her eyes. “oh my god ellie, were you staring at her again?! you know you can’t get her- just back off already”, dina was a good friend, she and ellie had been best friends since forever, which meant dina had no shame in being blunt and direct, telling ellie the truth that she didnt want to realize. Ellie grumbles and runs a hand over her face, feeling caught, but nevertheless her gaze once again falling back on you and more so- your chest that sat so beautiful in your black dress. “ow?! wha- i know that, you don’t have to point it out..”

dina scoffed at this, as she immediately noticed her dumb friend returning her gaze to you, “jeez ellie, stop looking at her ti-“

“face!” she interrupted quickly and looked at her friend with a slight smirk, the alcohol mixed with the weed running through her veins made her feel slightly more confident. “eugh you're like a nasty dog, and not in a good way” dina rolls her eyes and takes the joint from ellies hand, ellie lets out a cackle at her choice of words, but not denying them..she was definitely a nasty dog when it came to you.

ellie's pinning hadn't flown past your head, nothing did, of course you had noticed, you notice everything..if only ellie knew that, when she was shamelessly staring at you. but enough about that, were you going to do anything about it? absolutely not, many people’s eyes landed in you, if you gave one of them attention, others would just want your attention even more.

you had the upper hand in this and you werent going to do anything…but then why did it annoy you so much that her eyes were on you? usually you didn’t care…but something about ellie made you intrigued, and you fucking hated it.

ellie didn’t know how it happened, her feet had leaped up and were suddenly moving towards you, she couldn’t stop her feet they had a mind of their own right now and it was freaking ellie out

don’t act stupid ellie, fuck you’re dressed as a wolf?! and you except her to wanna talk to you

she stopped behind you, god you were even prettier up close, no ellie stop- act normal- before she could continue her nervous rambling inside her head, you had turned around and looked at her, your eyebrows scrunched with an annoyed look on your face, shit, ellie couldn’t tell if she regretted everything in that moment or if this was worth it as she got the chance to see you up close for once.

“um hi..?, what was your name again?” you glare at her like she was just an annoying bug in your face that you desperately wanted to get rid of. but ellie didn’t care she was too focused on your face. your kitty ears fitted you so well in your smooth messy hair and your painted nose made her want to crumble on the spot. ellie couldn’t tell if she was drooling or not, she might as well have been because of your outstanding beauty, you were like nothing she had seen before. “oh-..uh..i-im ellie”

you laugh in her face, the sound sending a lightning bolt through her body. “well.. ellie, you should’ve dressed up as a stalker to make up for your behavior” you cross your arms and look at her, taking in every inch of her skin, the poor girl felt so nervous and intimidated yet turned on under your hard gaze, “my behavior? what um what do you mean?-i- wasn’t-“

ellies words get caught off as you interrupted her, not having time or energy for her boring lies “i-i-i”..don’t play dumb with me,” you mock her stuttering with a cold tone of voice, clearly trying to use one of your classic mean girl techniques, ellie convinced herself she wasn’t bothered but truth be told she felt a little irritated, she felt herself become a little hurt by your bluntness and mean words, maybe her fondness of you was exactly what it was, just a facade she could see from the distance, ellie’s thoughts stopped as you spoke your next words with a smirk on your face and an innocent voice, “shouldn’t a good puppy like you learn some manners…”

she sucked in her breath, a blush creeping up her pale cheeks. your words were evil, and so not meant in any way but evil, you were trying to make her feel intimidated and it was working…but she couldn’t help but notice the touch of lust in your eyes, or maybe she was just drunk. her body was hot, her gaze finding your face, your evil grin paired with the most innocent, precious eyes she had ever seen, her previous irritation hadn’t faded completely but her temptations were definitely ruling over it. nasty thoughts springing in her mind, too unholy to be present right now, and you knew that.

“i’m a wolf…” she mumbled quietly under her breath, in reality she wanted to respond with a drop to her knees, but that wasn’t realistic yet. “is that barking, i hear coming from you??” you mockingly put up a hand to your ear pretending to listen for barks, looking at her as if she was nothing but a unpropper dog. Your gaze stays steady, challenging her to talk back, but a glint in her eyes shows she's up for the game, and you’re ready, not backing down an inch. ellie couldn’t help her spark of confidence in her next words. “funny, coming from someone dressed like a kitten” ellie licks her lips and speaks with a small smirk, tilting her head slightly, the alcohol for sure made ellie do it, in the real world she’d never have the guts to be playful with you.

You narrowed your eyes at her, not expecting her to say that, a cackle leaves your lips and you cross your arms and study her face. “oh now look who’s getting bold, did the little dog finally learn to bite back? hm?” your expression taunting, your irritation still present but an intriguing look in your eyes had appeared, waiting to see if ellie had the guts to really challenge you or if it was just a quick moment. she couldn’t figure you out, the tension was thick between the two girls

ellie didn’t want to respond, she didnt know what to say that could satisfy your question, she’d do anything for this moment to never end.

“m...maybe i did” the auburn haired girl reponds a little unsure of herself but she hides it with a steady face, she wanted to prove herself to you, prove that she wasnt just nervous rack. “maybe? oh ellen...i’d love to see that happening from someone like you” you smile innocently, knowing full well her name wasn’t ellen but she didn’t have to know that.

“its ellie...and, i can bark” she said, raising her chin higher to prove her point, her green eyes holding your gaze. She’s on edge, unsure if she’s just woken up something she can’t handle.

“..and i can scratch” you lean closer, the distance suddenly becoming much smaller, ellie could see the tiny spots on your nose and the way your lips were neatly formed and pressed towards, your piercing eyes finding ellie’s green orbits, staring daggers into her skull, ellie could’ve sworn she saw you looking at her lips for a split second, but she wasn’t sure…

does she want me the same way i want her?- no ellie, remember what dina said.

“but you already know that, don’t you?…ellie” oh the brown haired girl knew it very well, everyone did…you scratched like a kitten, you had your claws on everyone. She was speechless for a moment before nodding compliantly and before she could let out a real response you beat her to it, with the same smirk you had on your face the entire time. “that’s what i figured, enjoy the party ellen.” you reach your hand out and pat her head, your long nails making contact with her chestnut colored hair, in the most taunting annoying way ever and then you just disappear into the crowd of people, leaving ellie standing like a flustered mess, a hopeless, pathetic, blushing mess. she had never expected her first conversation with you to be like this.

god she was down bad~

part two??

[iamespecter]

Hi. I have new stuff to show. There are more coming as well, I just had to stop with three for now because it's so hot rn.

(tw for body horror)! | Digital Nightmares post

Now, when tackling the monster designs for this little crossover, I had to keep in mind what made the LN monsters so unique and uncanny in the first place. Which meant simple, but exaggerated, contorting body horror features. I had to not stray from original TADC concepts and try to embody them in these designs as best as possible, and made them extra grotesque. For Jax's case, he's become a farmer that also doubles as a scarecrow, something he asked the Doll (Ragatha) to do to him. His purple complexion is the result of this decision.

There's also the factor of making them have more muted colors as opposed to bright and saturated ones, to really make it hit home and the cast would fit in the universe of Little Nightmares (even though the environments are most definitely not gonna be the same as the games, since the monsters' environments reflect their occupation/role) Ragatha in this one is a Dollmaker whom had an unfortunate run in with the Entomologist (Kinger), resulting in stitches.

The designs may look simple enough, but make no mistake; I had a TON of trouble figuring out how to incorporate the TADC cast into a more monstrous versions of themselves because of just how vastly different the vibes between the two medias are. These designs underwent at least 2-3 tries before being finalized, because goddamn character design is my passion but does it kick ass sometimes Good ol' Kinger here is an Entomologist (Insect collector), who doesn't like his "focus" on his work and belongings being disturbed. He has two detached hands that roam around.

Obviously this isn't where it ends because I still have to do Gangle, Zooble, Gummigoo, Gloink Queen and Loolilalu (Maybe even Martha Mildenhall) so this may be a multiple part series.

Not to mention, Pomni and Caine's monster selves too because I'm not gonna ignore that, everyone becomes a monster in this and no one can stop meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

Gala Buddies

Sam Manson glares out across the sea of the rich, snobby ‘elite.’ The people mingling with one another, all fake smiles and false niceties slipping from their lips easily. Every face a mask they put on to hide their true selves from the view of the public. They made Sam sick. She hated Galas, particularly the ones that took her away from Amity.

So of course, her parents had insisted that they simply must attend the gala in Gotham being held by none other than Bruce Wayne. They couldn’t miss out on the opportunity to see their old pal again.

Though Sam thought it was more like they wanted to suck up to the man for some business venture.

Or try to set her up with one of his sons again.

At least she got to see Gotham’s architecture. That was a positive, she concluded. She’d get some cool photos out of the trip to show Danny and Tucker back home. And maybe she’d get to see one of Gotham’s infamous vigilantes up close, she could try to learn anything from gauging the way they handled themselves that might be useful for Danny.

Sam readjusted her stance, the fabric of the obnoxiously pink dress making her legs itch uncomfortably. Her mother had gone through her luggage before they left when Sam hadn’t been looking and slipped in the monstrosity she was currently wearing, and removing the dresses she had selected for this torturous night. She was becoming moodier, and ‘crabbier’ as Tucker and Danny might have put it, by the second.

Maybe she could ‘accidentally’ trip into the chocolate fountain and ruin the dress. At least then she’d be getting some form of retribution for being forced into the frilly cocoon of humiliation. And it’s not like her parents would be able to scold her too much in front of all the other rich schmuks attending the party. As Sam was eyeing the chocolate fountain she noticed in her peripheral vision a person approaching her.

“Not in a party mood I take it?” Asked whoever had walked up to her.

Sam turned to examine the guy in front of her. He looked to be roughly her age, dark skin and a fancy suit that he looked uncomfortable in. A nervous energy permitted off of him, Sam guessed he wasn’t used to these sorts of events and was unashamedly out of his depth.

“Nah, not particularly,” Sam offered with a shrug, “you seem like you want to be here as much as I do.”

“Ah yeah,” the guy rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly, “I’m kinda only here because my brother didn’t want to be here alone and most of our other siblings were unavailable aside from my sister and I. But now he’s off talking to a friend of his that happened to be here, and my sister’s disappeared to who knows where.”

“That’s rough buddy,” Sam offers him a sympathetic smile.

The guy snorts before asking, “did you just quote Zuko?” And Sam grins. He holds out his hand to her, “Duke Thomas.”

Sam shakes his hand, “Sam Manson. Nice to meet you, Duke.”

Duke visibly appears to relax a little and the air of nervousness around his somewhat dissipates. He shifts of his feet for a moment before deciding on something. “So,” he starts, “if you weren’t stuck here what you normally be doing with your time?”

“Probably playing Doom with my two best friends back home,” Sam doesn’t mention anything about the ghosts. She hopes Danny and Tucker are alright in their own.

“Oh cool,” Duke smiles and Sam would be lying if she said she’d never seen someone so perfectly embody literal sunshine like he did. “I usually play videos games with my siblings. Mario Kart can get super competitive though.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at that, intrigued. “How competitive?”

Duke grimaces slightly but looks amused at the same time, “well, tables have been flipped and expensive things broken. And everyone lost Alfred’s cookie privileges for a week.” He ground out that last part as though it physically pained him.

“Damn. They must be some good cookies if you’re that bummed about it.”

“Your have no idea. Alfred’s cookies are the best thing in the world. Fights have broken out over them.”

“Your family sound insane,” Sam chuckles and quickly adds, “in a good way.”

Duke grins at her, “yeah they’re kinda crazy sometimes, but they’re great. Really. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

“It must be nice, having siblings like that.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“Nah,” Sam shakes her head, “only child.”

Before either of them know or Sam and Duke have been talking for nearly the entire gala. They remained glued to one another chatting even as one or both of them wanted to grab something to eat from the buffet table. Their interactions didn’t go unnoticed by Bruce and the others.

Sam couldn’t remember the last time she had such a normal and fun conversation with someone other than Danny or Tucker.

The end of the night came too soon, Sam felt. Things were winding down and people were bidding others farewell. She could see her parents speaking with Bruce Wayne, possibly thanking him for a wonderful night.

“Looks like I’ll probably be leaving soon,” Sam deflated a little.

Duke pondered something for a moment but seemed to reach a decision quickly. He pulled out his phone and offered it to Sam, “here, give me your number. We can keep talking later. If you want that is.”

And Sam couldn’t find any reason to say no, especially when Duke was smiling like that. “Sure,” he took the phone from his hand and added her number into his contacts. She pulled out her own phone and handed it to him to add his number in too.

“Well then,” Duke fighters with the end of his suit jacket.

“Sammikins!” Pamela Manson called out, “it’s time to go sweetie.”

“I’ll talk to you late?” Duke asked with a smile.

“Yeah,” Sam smiled back, “talk to you later Duke.”

[astro-rainbow777]

💐🌸 𝓣𝓪𝓾𝓻𝓾𝓼 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓼 🧸🌱

♉︎ - Happy Taurus Season Everyone!!! In honor of Taurus season, I am continuing the signs through the houses series. I hope y’all enjoy my findings & this post serves you well. Thanks so much for all of the support! Happy Spring & Upcoming Beltane to the Pagan Community <3

🌸 Taurus in the First House ~ Taurus on the ascendant is the embodiment of peace, calm and pleasure. These natives aren’t the most outgoing but leave such a comfortable and cozy first impression. They don’t say more than needs to be said, however they are unlikely to turn down a conversation. They have a soft and natural beauty about them and strong familial values. They enjoy the finer things, have a clean aesthetic and a “rich” aura. Many of them are shorter or more petitie in size, have a pleasing and smooth voice and kind eyes. However, if you mess with the bull, you’ll get the horns! Being on the opposing end of Scorpio, when they cut you off, it is completely. Good luck getting back into their lives because they are a closed book. Why y’all always smell good? Fr tho

🐂 Taurus in the Second House ~ Here the sign is in its ruling house, they do very well in saving their money, are picky about what they eat and indulge in the material pleasures of life. They value loyalty, commitment, stability and security - not to mention their love fashion & the arts. They will tell you they have the most exquisite taste, you would find it very difficult to change their mind. They hold up strong values and morales, what they know to be right and wrong is the truth. This is a very secure personality, they are very comfortable with their bodies, and have a healthy sense of worth and self love. Honestly such a healthy placement - as someone with NO earth in their chart - muhbenaaaace

💰 Taurus in the Third House ~ These natives find security and peace in their childhood homes, where they grew up, the memories of their cousins and siblings. They could be the most stable or the least stable out of their siblings. The way they think, learn and communicate is slow and methodical. They take their time in studying new topics, preferring to stay on the surface of a topic. They may have an artistic and beautiful singing voice, or maybe the way they speak is just very polite and sweet. They were raised with manners and this makes them very charming. They can have a liking for music that moves at a slower pace, classical music, or just a more elegant taste in art.

🥘 Taurus in the Fourth House ~ Their family could be a source of stability and security for them. The mom, mother figure or more feminine role model can be the bread winner in the family, her love language could be gifts, an amazing cook, and give a lot of hugs 🫂 They have stable emotions, it takes a lot to emotionally sway them. It may end up bothering people who try to get an emotional reaction from them because of this. They can be the most grounded one in their family. Their family may view them as realistic, practical and reliable. Family is what gives them sanction from the world.

💝 Taurus in the Fifth House ~ They express them selves in a very material type of way, their flex is their finances. These natives take a lot of pride in what they have...this usually comes from a place of having to work really hard for their things. They love the natural look, minimalist, they like long lasting, high quality, practical fashion. To them that is the best statement to make. They don’t like that trash to treasure look their tastes are refined. They will shower their kids with the finer things and really enjoy providing for them - this will be their love language. They aren’t huge adrenaline junkies and enjoy more grounded, chill hobbies. They definitely don’t mind being alone and love their down time at home…on the couch…snacks…naps…repeat.

🐻 Taurus in the 6th ~ These natives prefer a slow start to their daily routine, and enjoy a slow paced job, with chill yet organized coworkers. The workplace must be something that they don’t hate… because if they hate it and it stresses them out just thinking of going, they won’t work there. Period. They need low maintenance pets as these individuals are very independent in nature. It’s important for their day job to be a place of peace and pleasure for them, and once they are comfortable, it’s gonna be hard to get them to leave. Their job can provide them with sooooo much stability if they have a good one.

🍨 Taurus in the 7th ~ Wining and Dining with your loved ones! Shopping sprees, luxurious and high quality partners. With the ones they love the most, they spoil, eat and they just want to be lazy with them honestly. They want their relationships to be a place of peace for them. It’s important that their partner can support themselves and is stable on their own. It will just cause them stress if they are constantly worrying about having to take care or mommy their partner. It’s possible that they can stay with someone out of fear of the unknown/change, even tho they don’t like them or it’s not working anymore.

🌷 Taurus in the Eighth House ~ Cycles related to self esteem, self worth, and supporting themselves. Honestly, this is a really hard placement to have- they may have times where they stay in ab*sive relationships because they can’t support themselves financially or they are too uncomfortable alone. However, the eighth house is notorious for taking your greatest fear/weakness and turning it into their super power. You just have to get through those lessons and take those leaps of faith to unlock that power and hidden potential! They like to engage in their senses when they’re intimate with their partners and prefer slow love making rather than the raw primal stuff.

🪴 Taurus in the Ninth House ~ These people can be a little fixed in their beliefs, their spiritual beliefs/religion can be a source stability and sanction for them. If they aren’t necessarily spiritual- they could just have a specific philosophy or lifestyle that they stick to. What I admire about these individuals, is they know exactly what they want. When they travel, it has to be somewhere where they know exactly what to expect, somewhere that won’t give them anxiety, and probably a more luxurious staycation type of experience. They could also enjoy a nice nature walk with their loved ones.

👛 Taurus in the Tenth House ~ Every single person I have met with this placement neeeeeed a stable job, they will not leave a job if it provides them with the type of lifestyle they desire. It doesn’t really matter what they are doing for their career as long as it aligns with their values. Their dad/father figure could have been the sole provider and could have made a huge impact on their reputation. This is definitely a daddies money placement 💀 - sorry if that’s triggering for anyone lol. The father figure could be super down to earth and chill, enjoy cooking or just be way too overly indulgent in a negative manifestation.

👒 Taurus in the Eleventh House ~ Is the stay at home friend, doesn’t like to get out of their comfort zone to meet new people. Much likely to want to stay inside and bond with their community in a space that is familiar and inviting to them. Their community could be their sanction and be the most stable part of their lives. They enjoy cooking and creating art for their friends. Anything to bring peace to their homies senses! For their friends, the Taurus eleventh house native’s place is a home away from home. How special 🥹

👄 Taurus in the Twelfth House ~ When it comes to matters of the twelfth house, spirituality, isolation, ect. - these individuals may like to keep things light and on the surface. They are comfortable being alone, in fact they consider it to be comfortable and safe. Their spirituality isn’t something they spend time questioning, and they could be very comfortable with the unknown, they enjoy their own curious nature. They are endearing to their own selves, however sometimes their sense of worth could be confusing. They may have a hard time understanding their own values and morals, preferring to just go with the flow, everyday they are a new person trying on different personalities, hobbies and styles! The possibilities are endless! It’s quite an interesting placement. One more thing….secret indulgences…the silent snacker

Smell ya later!

[alphabetboyluvr]

the curious lifespan of migrating monarchs - jjk

THE CURIOUS LIFESPAN OF MIGRATING MONARCHS (& other aurelian affairs)

pairing: streamer!jk x international student!female oc (s2l)

warnings: strangers to lovers, clubbing, foul language, alcohol, vaping lol, jungkook is kinda famous, the oc is oblivious, the oc is also a foreign student who has very recently arrived in Korea!! (pls note - while i've been in korean uni dorms, i've never been in yonsei dorms specifically so don't shout at me if it isn't supeeeerr accurate), jaykay is speaking in eng for like 90% of this!!, i've also never watched a gaming streamer and had to do so for research lmao so there's a lot of guesswork going awwwn <3, the oc has tattoos, they bond over this, cute nicknames (tokki and nabi <3), one bed trope?? kinda, jaykay lives w/ yoongi and tae (they are streamers too (and dj?? (tae is a bit unhinged))), jungkook wears calvins!, a singular appearance of yoongi in his boxers!!, tipsy hookup, fingering, protected sex (woo!), desk sex, oral (m receiving), girliepop swallows <3, brief mentions of jungkook's starry eyes, lots of kisses, bunny ears, (1) mention of cross-fit

wordcount: 13011

note from holly: this was a commission done for the lovely Michelle over on my kofi page!! i don't open commissions often, but when I do I'm very lucky that the requests are so much fun. this actually ended up being way longer than it was supposed to be lol and is also available on wattpad!! also fun facts for you - I imagine the boys apartment (and jks room!) to be same as jk + jimins place in BD, just a little bigger lmao

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

CLUB SUNDOWN WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE SATURDAY 02:24

Time ceases to exist after the sun goes down in Seoul. It could be two, or it could be five. The only thing that really clues you in on the actual time is the DJ schedule that lights up behind the decks: 02:00-03:00, Blu-Tae.

It's some guy you've never heard of. Looks no older than you. Probably a student, just like the rest of the crowd.

His hair is as blue as his namesake, which does make you smile, and his choices aren't bad either (even if somewhat questionable). You've never heard a jazz remix of Darude's Sandstorm before, and you doubt you ever will again.

Club Sundown is just as rogue as the rest of the city after the sun goes down. Hidden in the basement—like all the best places in Seoul are—the small room is packed to the absolute brim.

Who cares for views and sunsets offered by rooftop bars when you could lose yourself in the debauchery of an eternal midnight, instead?

Drinks are spilt on strangers, and dances have lost the grandeur of old-fashioned waltzes. It's not like you could dance properly, even if you wanted to. There's just simply no space.

Like Alice, you're down the rabbit hole—and oh, how you prefer it to being in the real world. In the shadows, you can be anyone you like.

If you were sober, you'd know this is also the case for daily life. You're in a new country with no ties to your former self. Who you are is who you choose to be.

But the shadows aren't all that dark. The red lights of the club bleed into the cracks, painting everyone in the same subtle hue of danger.

They shine a little light on the identifiers of you; the thin black lines of your patchwork tattoos. Trailing up your arm, they're memories of your past selves, and an indicator of who you hope to become.

"Down this," you say to your dormmate, Rae, handing back over the drink you've just ordered from the bar. "Cloakroom, then dance."

Still carrying your winter coats, you'd wanted to check the place out before committing to it. Entry is free, but the cloakroom is the same price as a drink. It would only be worth putting your coats away if you knew you wanted to stay—and given the fact the DJ was playing O-Zone's Dragostea Din Tei as you entered, you know it's a no-brainer. While his stage name might make you roll your eyes a little, Blu-Tae certainly does cater to your tastes. When you're drunk, and music vibrates through you, it's empyrean. No place you'd rather be.

"Oh, Jesus," Rae gags as she sips the drink you've just handed her. Despite her disgust, she's laughing. Head to toe in black, dark hair loose around her shoulders, she's been your ride-or-die since you arrived in Seoul. Both international students in the same dorm, there's no one you'd rather get up to no good with. "Vodka?!"

You beam at her like you're from the heavens above, wrongfully relegated to the depths of sin. Pretend like you love vodka. It's totally not like you panicked when you saw the menu was all in Korean.

Vodka-coke is a universally understood delicacy—the easiest thing for you to order without making a tit of yourself or butchering the pronunciation. When the bartender ignored your botched attempt at ordering in Korean and answered in fluent English, you'd wanted to melt into the floor. So embarrassing.

You're here, like most foreign students, for a language course. Semester is yet to start, and as much as you've studied and practised hard, it's always different when putting it into practice.

"I'm sorry," you laugh. "It's fine—you can order next time!"

But Rae has the exact same predicament as you. If anything, your language skills are better than hers, so you really have no hope. It's vodka-cokes for the evening, or maybe highballs. Once your tipsy brain manages to compute hangul cocktail names, you'll be golden, but that won't be for another few weeks, yet.

You'll look back at this time of your life fondly, realising how simple it all was, even if it feels incredibly overwhelming right now.

Funnily enough, hope is exactly what you have: for the semester ahead, for this new life you're forging, for the opportunities that may come your way.

In fact, by the time you're on your third vodka coke, you've managed to convince yourself you actually like it. You also can't taste it, thanks to the bartender freepouring a 60-40 ratio of vodka to coke in the first drink. Your tastebuds were wiped out pretty much instantly.

Coats in the cloakroom, you're glad to be wearing thin layers. The room is stuffy; your skin sweaty. While meeting new friends had been the goal, you keep to yourself. Dance like nobody is watching. Hold Rae's hands to stay close and ward off weirdos. Quickly realise that clubs back home are slightly different. Pay it no mind. Ignore the intrusions of hands on waists, because men, disappointingly, are no different.

Or at least most of them aren't.

But most of them don't look like the man in the corner booth, laughing with his friends.

Though he is tall, he's eclipsed by his demeanour. Shoulders broad, he's in a dark T-shirt and pair of jeans. Nothing special. Nothing that warrants such a perplexed stare from you - but he's familiar. You can't place him, but he's got the kind of face you swear you've seen before.

Rae doesn't notice the change in your poise, nor how you're desperately trying to work out where you know him from. Perhaps you've seen him around your university? It's only been a couple of weeks, but people are steadily moving in. Maybe he works at the convenience store you constantly find yourself in? Or mans the front desk of the noraebang you and Rae visit pretty much every other evening?

Impossible, you think. If you'd seen him before, you wouldn't have forgotten him, or the way he constantly toys with his lip rings. Plural. There are signs up around the place stating bar rules. NO SMOKING is rule number three. You've seen his friends pass him over a vape a handful of times. Anyone else, and you'd think it was cringe. Embarrassing.

But in the midst of his laughter settling, and a fresh toke being inhaled, his eyes flicker towards yours.

Perhaps it's just because you're drunk, but you don't avert your gaze. Show no shame. The smile on his lips sinks into a smirk as he exhales. An acknowledgement. A 'hello, trouble'.

Again, any other man, you'd find the vape smoke repugnant. Nasty. Now? Watching the way he flicks his tongue against his lip rings?

You wanna know how it tastes.

Black ink weaves an intricate outline of who he is up his arms. Where he's been. Who he's been. A map, if you will, of his soul.

Much like your own tattoos, he's got thick black lines, and little else. Simple, you assume. A man of convenience. Efficiency.

You wonder if he does everything in life with the precision to match his tattoos, and as your lips wrap around the straw of your vodka-coke, you decide you'd quite like to find out.

Interrupted by Rae pulling you deeper into the crowd, your night is spent in and out of shadows. Attempt subtlety. Try not to make your occasional glances to the corner booth noticeable, just checking if his eyes are still on you. More often than not, they aren't—but sometimes they are, and that's enough to fuel your little flirt.

It's not until the sign behind the DJ booth changes from 03:00-04:00, GLOSS into some other guy that you notice your staring contest opponent has slipped into the shadows himself. The booth is void of both him and his friends. Gone.

"GLOSS has a set at another club," Rae all but yells in your ear, and even then, you barely hear her. "All the hotties left when he did. Let's go."

"Where to?!" You laugh, empty cup in hand. Admittedly, the new guy who's stepped into the DJ booth is just not doing it for you. Blu-Tae was just the right amount of unhinged with classics, whereas GLOSS was definitely cooler, but still fun. Had the club yelling curse words over trap remixes just for the fun of it. This new guy, whose name you don't care to remember, takes himself too seriously, you think.

"It's, like, two blocks down," she yells back, tugging on your wrist to drag you to the stairwell that leads you back up to the streets of Seoul. The hustle and bustle of people trying to go in different directions in the tight place forces you apart, but you figure you'll catch up with her, or that she'll be waiting at the top.

You don't know the roads well enough yet to make it to whichever club it's at alone, and quickly realise when you nearly tumble into the side of a waiting taxi that you're far drunker than expected. Knew the bartender was freepouring, but didn't realise just how free those pours really were.

"Woah, easy trouble," a deep voice sounds from behind you as you're steadied to a more stable position.

"I'm good, I'm good!" You insist, shaking off the hands of your 'saviour'. Have no interest in being a damsel in distress, or some sober guy trying to take advantage of you.

Looking down to check your laces are tied properly, you check over your shoulder to make sure the guy isn't creepily waiting for a thank you that he can turn into an intrusive game of 21 questions—'are you open-minded?' or 'do you live alone?'—but when you glance in his direction, you regret it. Notice the tattoos immediately. Recognise the eyes. Want to die.

"Oh."

"Oh," he says back with a smile, imitating you. Suddenly, the confidence you'd had earlier when looking at him from afar dissolves into nothingness, just like the alcohol in your bloodstream. You feel rather sober, but your body would definitely disagree. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, suddenly a little stuck for words, desperately trying to play things cool. "Are you okay?"

The pouting of his lips as his tongue runs along the inside of his cheek only serves to make you internally cringe. Men who look like him have no business being on streets like this. Should be in a museum. Strung up on the walls with the other masterpieces. Admired by everyone who looks his way.

In a way you don't yet realise, he is.

Though he's not in galleries, he's often burning into people's laptop screens. Is the background of a fair few thousand lock screens. Indeed, he is admired by everyone who looks his way, just not in the traditional sense.

"I'm not the one who just fell into a car," he reminds you, as if you could forget your embarrassment so quickly.

"Was just seeing if you'd catch me," you bullshit, the confidence you usually have returning tenfold. Was just a momentary blip. He's just a man, after all.

"Oh?" He chirps, decidedly curious. "So you fell for me?"

"Stumbled."

"Semantics."

His fluency, and the fact he just said 'semantics' so casually in conversation, clues you in on the fact he might be a language student, too. 

Could be useful study partners for each other, you think, then mentally berate yourself for already masterminding ways to see him again.

"So, where you going?" He asks, not caring to downplay his curiosity. The bartenders were free-pouring his drinks just as severely as they poured yours. The only difference is that his were on the house—'cause you were right. He does have a recognisable face. "Should probably go with you. Make sure you don't fall into the road."

"Stumble," you insist, a little pleased with the boldness of his suggestion, but not wanting to blindly agree. "My friend," you say glancing around, only to find yourself completely alone. "She wanted to go catch the next GLOSS set. So, I guess that's where we're going."

"Just down the road," he says, knowing the schedule like the back of his hand. Bounces from club to club supporting his friends, just like they would for him. If he wanted, he could get a slot up there, too. He doesn't care for it. "I'll walk with you, if you want? My friends are heading there anyway."

It's not a bad offer.

In fact, it's probably the best offer you'll get all night.

"C'mon," he nods his head to the side, encouraging you to follow him. Checks his phone for the time. "Starts in five."

If there's one thing you've indulged in since moving to Seoul, it's how safe you always feel. Security cameras are on every corner, and you've walked home countless times without any issues, even late into the night. While the place isn't perfect, it's far safer than your home country.

Still, you're not a complete idiot.

"It's not wise to follow strange men down dark alleys," you tell him.

He holds out his hand. Waits for you to shake it. Cocks a brow when you hesitate, so introduces himself.

"Jungkook. Nice to meet you. Now, can we please hurry up? I promised I'd be there."

Narrowing your eyes, you don't shake his hand. Arms folded over your chest, there is ice to your exterior, and given how warm his eyes are, you doubt it'll last for very long. May as well keep up this hard-to-get act while you still can.

Walking on past him, you call back, "Alright then. Lead the way."

In the domed mirror meant for reversing cars at the end of a tight alley, you see him laugh. "Wrong way, idiot."

Pausing, you scrunch your face up. Don't turn to face him for at least a second or so—but when you do, you're surprised to see him walking towards you. Hooking his arm around your waist, he carries on walking in the 'wrong' direction, taking you with him.

"Was just fucking with you," he grins. Nods towards a sign by another basement entrance, listing both Blu-Tae and GLOSS.

By the door, Rae is looking around like a mother duck who's just lost some of her ducklings when crossing the road. Breathes a sigh of relief when she spots you.

"C'mon," she grins, then realises who you're with. Says nothing of it, 'cause she doesn't want to be weird, but she recognises him, too. Decides she's just had a little too much to drink. There's no way it's him. Holds out her hand for you.

Reaching out for her, you're let go from Jungkook's grip, ready to get lost in the lights once more.

HAEJANG24 WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE SATURDAY 05:53

Seoul is a city for the nocturnal. The restaurants and bars are open until the last men are standing. Given how much you've had to drink, you're surprised you still are.

Rae had dipped an hour or so ago. Had hit it off with Mr Blu-Tae himself. Seduced him with the suggestion that their couple name would be Blu-Rae. He'd said they should go to a DVD-bang. Would be fitting. See what Blu-rays were on file.

Naturally, you'd looked on with mild disgust and also admiration for how quickly she'd worked her magic. Everyone knows what goes down in DVD-bangs. Small private rooms, often with projector screens and the world's least comfortable futons, they're somewhere you hope to never end up—but also can't wait to hear all the details the next morning when Rae comes to your room for a debrief.

You'd been left under the surveillance of Jungkook.

"Look after her," Rae had instructed, then narrowed her eyes. "Or I'll destroy your reputation with a single twitter thread, Tokki."

It's a threat he's taken seriously. Knows how the internet works, and even though he's never done anything worthy of a cancellation, he also doesn't intend on starting now. The fact you seem to have no idea who he is during the daylight hours intrigues him. It's a rarity on streets like these.

Even when a few people asked for pictures with him on your walk to the hangover soup place, you didn't clock it as weird. Figured they were friends passing by, wanting to document their chance run-in. Just another memory of the night. The way Jungkook had greeted them was full of warmth, and kindness. Why wouldn't you assume they were mates?

You were also still incredibly drunk at the time, so didn't think to question it. Was keen for food, and Jungkook had insisted on hangover soup, and so that's where you are. Dishes nearly empty, far more of it eaten by him than you, you're laughing about nothing and everything all at once.

"Right," Jungkook declares, deciding he cannot hold in a question that's been tickling at his brain for the entire meal. "What the fuck is that?"

Coat left in the cloakroom, long forgotten about, your tattoos are on full display for him, just like his are for you. Up your arm they trail; a patchwork of teeny tiny identifiers. Latin phrases around skulls, birth flowers of the people you hold close, butterflies and stars. There's an ode to your favourite musician and your favourite Shakespeare quote, too. The fabric of you etched into your skin. There's no reinventing yourself, even half the world away from home.

You know precisely which tattoo Jungkook is asking about. You've asked yourself the same question a few times.

"Fuck off," you laugh.

While most of your tattoos are gorgeous, there's one that was done by a rogue artist on a girlie holiday a few years ago. What was supposed to be a seashell now looks like... well, nothing really. It's just a blob, thanks to the artist being absolutely terrible. The only solace you find in it is that your two best friends have an equally awful permanent reminder of that holiday on their bodies, too.

"It doesn't look how it's supposed to," you explain with a little pout. "I got royally screwed over."

He cocks a brow. You still haven't told him what it is. He isn't gonna ask you twice.

With a grumble, you feebly admit, "A shell."

And then he's laughing. Really laughing. Laughing so hard you think he might piss himself—which you'd actually prefer, because then he could be the embarrassed one, instead.

"I'm calling you Shelly from now on," he says with a broad smile. Has had his fair share of tattoo blunders, and knows you must've developed an affection towards how shitty it is. Would have gotten it covered up, otherwise. "That's incredible."

"You're calling me so such thing," you assure him, but you also can't help but laugh.

"I am," he tells you, then really solidifies it. "Shelly."

"Fuck off," you whine, doubling down. Scanning his arms, you try and pick out anything you can use against him, too. "If I'm Shelly, then you're Mike."

"Mike?!" He protests.

"Yeah," you insist, pointing towards the microphone on his forearm. "Mike."

"You are not calling me Mike. Do I look like a Mike?!"

"Do I look like a Shelly?!"

You've got a point. It's not the name he would have first associated with you - but it is cute, he thinks. Cute how mortified you seem. Cute how you can't help but smile.

After a little bit of back and forth, it's decided that neither of you look like your namesakes.

"Y'know, we kinda have matching tattoos," he says, holding out his arm for you to study. "Or at least, the placements."

And sure enough, below his elbow lives the outline of a bunny sitting on a crescent moon. Holding your own arm out next to his, below your elbow is a butterfly. Above it, is a teeny tiny moon.

Like Jungkook's moon, it's a crescent. Was supposed to symbolise new beginnings. You wonder what his means, but don't ask. Instead, you marvel at the coincidence of it all.

He presses his index finger against the butterfly on the inside of your forearm. The echoing chatter of the restaurant fades softly into nothingness as he says, "Nabi."

You nod. Even if you have spoken with him in English this entire time, it's nice to hear him speak in his mother tongue, no matter how minimal - so you reciprocate. Press your index finger against his bunny. Smile. Say, "Tokki."

It further confirms to Jungkook that you have no idea who he is. Has been a while since he's met a girl in a circumstance like this where that's the case. Likes the anonymity of it all. Is hiding his identity from you, and yet hasn't felt such vulnerability for years.

"Daltokki, right?" You continue, not wanting the silence to linger for too long. "The rabbit in the moon?"

You're not wrong, but you're also not entirely right.

"Yeah," he smiles regardless. "That's it."

JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU SATURDAY 07:12

"Shhh," Jungkook quietly laughs. 

His hand is over your mouth and the other is on your hip as he guides you into his apartment. With your back to his chest, you've both been giggling for the entire ride to his place.

He had insisted that he should walk you home, and was surprised by the offense you seemed to have taken by this. You then told him that he absolutely could not seduce you, and that it was very gender-role-conforming for him to think that you were incapable of getting home by yourself.

"Maybe I should be the one to make sure you get home safely," you had said with a false sense of concern, which had made him laugh quite considerably.

In all reality, you didn't mind him offering to get you home. You just hadn't tidied your room. Didn't really expect to be taking a boy back to your place, much less one that looks like him.

Together, you'd caught the early morning bus over to Itaewon instead of a taxi, 'cause you're still on a student budget and Jungkook wasn't quite ready to blow his cover just yet.

You've been teasing him—questioning his status as a potential International Super Spy—ever since he took your hand and guided you into one of the flashiest apartment complexes you've ever been in. There was security. Doormen. A passcode for the elevator—not to mention that he was heading up to the seventh floor once you were in it. Might not sound like much, but when there are only seven floors to the entire building, it makes it the penthouse by default.

"It's not a penthouse," he'd insisted. "Plus, I live with friends. Only pay a third of the rent."

But a third of his rent is more money than you'll probably see in three months of post-grad work. You're drunk, but you're not stupid. You also know that the rental market here differs significantly from your home country. Monthly rent is cheap, but the deposits are extortionate. Sure, he'll get it back when he leaves, but to have the initial money needed for a place like this? He's not a regular student, if one at all, that much is sure.

"Not sure who's home," Jungkook whispers as you both kick your shoes off in the entryway. Given the looks of the other shoes, it's clear that this is a guys-only living situation. You're proven right when he continues, "Betcha Tae's still in that damn DVD-bang, but Yoongi might be back."

"Yoongi?" You question.

"GLOSS," Jungkook says, remembering how oblivious you are to who he is. Reaching down to grab your shoes, he isn't gonna leave them by the door. Will take them to his room. Doesn't want the boys asking questions, if they are in. Knows they'll just use it as an excuse to publicly roast him whenever they're next online together.

Given that a stream is scheduled for Sunday night, he doesn't want to tempt fate.

Their current choice of wind-up, which the viewers have been eating up, is the joke that Jungkook is a virgin. He's not, but he never knows how to defend himself without sounding like a tool, so always gets a little awkward. A lot of their viewers love it. Join in on the joke. Some take it seriously. He doesn't care.

Next month, Taehyung will do something dumb, and he'll become the favourite joke for a while. Maybe Yoongi. But for now, it's Jungkook.

None of them take it to heart. They're just a group of friends who share their gaming hangouts online, and accidentally made it to the top of the ranks.

They aren't particularly good at gaming, but that's part of the charm. Crescent Collective is how they're known: Blu-Tae, GLOSS and Tokki.

After a bet went wrong, and they all lost, they ended up with moon tattoos and their respective 'symbols'. Jungkook's is a rabbit, Tae's is a blu-ray DVD disk (because he really is committed to the bit), and Yoongi's is stars to symbolise the shine of fresh gloss. Jungkook's makes the most sense. Yoongi's is pretty decent. Taehyung's is just... Well, it's very him.

Sliding open the door into the main living area, Jungkook has to cover your mouth again when you gasp at the sheer size of the place.

"I thought butterflies were supposed to be silent?" He teases. "Quiet for me, Nabi."

His place is bigger than your family home, you think. Hushing you again, he's laughing—and then he's cursing at the sight of a half-naked Yoongi by the kitchen counter.

In his boxers, with half a clementine slice hanging from his lips, he's just as shocked to see Jungkook with you. Gets over it pretty quickly.

"Don't mind me," he says, chewing down on the fruit with a smirk. Looks towards you. "Apologies for the lack of clothes."

With your shoes hooked on his fingers, Jungkook's other large hand is still over your mouth. You're not sure you can form any words as it is, but you do notice the crescent moon and stars on Yoongi's ribs.

"Not a word to Tae," is all Jungkook says. Knows that he'll be in for a world of teasing tomorrow if he gets wind of it. "I mean it."

Holding his hands up, Yoongi's still smirking, but he is backing away into a room just off the kitchen. "My lips are sealed."

Watching as he closes the door, you wonder how much truth is in his words. Jungkook knows it's absolute bullshit. Chooses not to dwell on it. Loosens his grip on you and heads towards his own room. Turns back to check you're following him, and can't help but smile when he knows that you are.

Tossing your shoes just inside the door, Jungkook is quick to pick up a pair of jeans he'd left on the floor, before chucking them over his desk chair. He tweaks his bedding. Straightens it out. Looks a little shy as he turns to face you.

"Made it home safe," he says quietly, as you close the door behind you.

You nod. Keep a little distance. Say, "It's dangerous to sleep after drinking. Make sure you build a tower of pillows in the middle of your bed so you don't roll onto your back."

Both of you are far more sober than you were earlier. There's no need to worry about anything like that.

And yet he nods, now. Says, "You're probably right. You can always stay, though. Just to check I don't die in my sleep, or whatever."

"It'd be the responsible thing to do," you nod, wondering if he can tell just how fast your heart is beating. "But I don't have any pyjamas."

Jungkook swallows. The way he looks at you now is entirely different to how he'd looked at you in the club. Back then, he'd been bold. Flirtatious.

Now, he seems vulnerable. Needy.

"I sleep in my underwear," he tells you, unsure if you'll actually be sleeping. While he likes the idea of fucking you, part of him doesn't want to. Fears it'll ruin the magic of the unknown. The way he throbs at the mere thought of it would suggest that his hopes outweigh his fears. "I don't mind, if you don't."

The clothes Jungkook's wearing are baggy. You've seen nothing of his figure.

Reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs on the fabric of his T-shirt. Pulls it over his head and discards it in one swift movement. The sound of it crumpling on the floor is abrasive in how it makes you feel. Raw. Unrefined. You suppose it's just a natural consequence of seeing the toned muscles of his chest. How his waist defies what you thought was possible for masculine builds, and how broad his chest is. The indent of his collarbones, and the lines of his pelvis that draw your eyes downwards.

A pair of Calvins peek just above the waistband of his jeans, and a silver chain rests around his neck. Light from the city filters in, and LED lights around his impressive computer set-up paint him in a hue of violet.

"No," you manage to reply, which is a miracle, you think. "I don't mind."

And then you reciprocate. Reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, letting the fabric fall to the floor. Seeing him swallow back his nerves, or maybe his desires, makes you feel far bolder than you should.

"It's really uncomfortable to sleep in jeans," you tell him.

He nods. Agrees. Threads the button of his trousers through its loop. Doesn't take them off yet. Waits for you to do the same. Keeps his eyes firmly locked on yours. Doesn't let his gaze wander, no matter how much he has to fight all his instincts not to fully take you in. Is still pretending like he doesn't want you in the most indecent of ways.

The room you're in right now is known worldwide. 

People set it as their zoom backgrounds. It's on Pinterest. There are YouTube videos attempting to recreate the set-up. If he were to power up his computer—which, in all fairness, is only on standby—and go live, there'd be a thousand viewers within minutes. Doesn't matter what he plays, or who he's with. He doesn't give it much thought anymore. Is just life.

Sometimes, he regrets not being a faceless streamer, but he also knows that it's part of the appeal. Connection, and the fantasy that comes with this almost dystopian, parasocial idea of it.

After all, the meeting of his eyes with yours across a busy club led you to this point. Human connection in the simplest of ways, that he thinks could culminate in the most complex of ways, too.

"Okay," he says. "So take them off."

"You want me to?" You ask just to tease a little bit, and when a smile flickers onto his seemingly nervous lips, you're glad you did.

"You think we'd be here right now if I didn't?" He says with a tweak of his brows.

"You've got a point."

With that, you push your jeans down and reveal the matching set of black underwear you're in. It's nothing special. In fact, it's not really a set, but it's close enough that it'd fool anyone who didn't know.

Jungkook, in this moment, is indeed a beautiful fool.

There's a lopsided grin on his face as he lets his eyes rake down your body. Is shameless as he indulges in you. Nods, as he bites down on his bottom lip.

"It's cold," you tell him, urging him along a little bit.

"Shit," he says without much thought. "Sorry. Was just... Yeah. Shit."

It's both endearing and wholly confusing how Jungkook flips from confident to cute. A man of duality. It makes you giggle, and then you're the one biting down on your bottom lip. Are both a little bashful. A little shy.

"I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep," you remind him before it goes any further.

Looking at him now, knowing you want him in the worst of ways, it's testing all of your willpower not to just cut to the chase.

Thing is, you liked his company tonight. Want it again. Want to give him a reason to seek you out once more. Want him thinking about you in clubs, and looking for you in crowded bars. Pining. Yearning. Needy.

"It's already gone seven," he tells you, walking towards his bed. Knocks his head to the side. Silently tells you to follow suit. "Will probably only get a couple hours in."

"Better than nothing. Plus, you're actually really irritating," you bullshit as you get into bed with him. Are adamant you won't fuck him, but you do let him pull you in closer.

"Oh, yeah?" He grins.

"Mhmm," you nod, pretending as if you aren't looking at his lips. "You'll be less annoying when you're asleep."

"I'm never gonna sleep again," he assures you. "Will annoy you forever."

"I know where the front door is," you say as you stroke a few of his loose, wavy hairs back behind his ears. They fall freely almost right away, but it just gives you another excuse to play with it "I can just leave. I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep. Pointless if you're awake."

"So I have to be asleep for you to stay?"

"Mhmm," you hum.

He immediately loosens his grip on you and flops into an overdramatic sleeping position. Fake snores. Gets you giggling. Can't hide his smile, either. Laughs through the god-awful noises he's making.

But it is late, and you're both tired. As much as he'd like to stay awake with you, the pull of sleep is just too tempting now that you're beneath his sheets. It's not like he doesn't wanna fuck you. His semi is very much present, but neither of you mention it.

"Y'know what's sad about butterflies?" Jungkook mumbles after the laughter dies down. He carefully begins to trace the lines of your tattoo, eyes entirely focused on the tip of his finger.

You purr a response before you fully vocalise one. "Tell me."

He glances up at you only very momentarily. Looks back down. Is quiet when he says, "How quickly they die. Spend over half their lifespan growing into these beautiful creatures, and then they have, what—A week? Two? Three, tops—and then they're gone. It's like the cherry blossoms in spring. Beautiful, and then—" He clicks his fingers. "—gone."

Stroking back some loose strands of his hair, you wonder if he's thinking about you. About this chance encounter. Beautiful, then gone.

"Just means you have to appreciate them while they're still around," you say softly. "Cherish them, because you know you only have them for a moment."

His gaze lifts to meet yours. The reflection of his LED lights makes it seem like butterflies are floating around in his deep, dark eyes, too.

There are stories he could tell you of ancient folklore; about human souls taking the form of butterflies. Of justice, and peace, and spirits. Of back in time, when tigers still smoked. He could tell you of his favourite butterflies. Of the black butterflies that are as large as his hands in the summer. Of the huge display in a museum downtown that would transfix him as a child.

Instead, he gently presses his lips against the lines of your butterfly tattoo.

The rate at which your heart is beating multiplies. Like a swarm of butterflies chasing through your veins, you've no control over the way you're feeling. He's brought your artwork to life; set the souls inside of your butterfly free, only for it to be apparent that the souls belonged to the both of you, anyway.

You know that this is one of those moments; a butterfly passing on by through your lives. Here, and then gone. Beautiful, but fleeting.

There's a shyness to Jungkook now, as he rolls onto his back. A reluctance to get things wrong. He doesn't look at you, just nibbles on his bottom lip and pretends as if the empty white ceiling ahead of him is the most interesting thing he's seen all night.

It's not.

You are.

You, and those eyes that make him feel like the butterfly on your arm is tickling at his tummy. He finds himself jealous when he faces you again and begins tracing the thin lines of your butterfly once more. Wants to embed himself into you like the ink that's carved out a home in your skin.

"Sorry," he mumbles, seemingly regretful of the tender kiss he'd pressed against your arm just a short moment ago. "Don't know why I did that."

"It's okay," you reply without much thought. Like him, you're letting the way you feel dictate the words you say. Care not for playing coy. "I liked it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Jungkook wants to stop his mouth from letting his desires escape. The issue is, he drank a little too much tonight and his lips are a little too loose. Too bad. Can't help himself from asking, "Can I do it again?"

You're just as bad.

"Yeah," you whisper. "Please."

The way his lashes splay against his cheeks as he presses another kiss to your arm is nothing short of celestial. Like that damn moon on his arm, he's got a beauty about him that's hard to capture in words. Ethereal feels too fantastical, but gorgeous feels too dense. He resides in a realm somewhere between the two. Somewhere you'd like to stay forever.

Forever, sadly, only lasts a few hours. You've brunch plans with new friends you can't bail on yet for fear of running a friendship before it's even begun.

You see yourself out. Jungkook's still asleep. Not quite 10AM, you've a dozen missed calls from Rae, and a cold can of coke waiting for you in your fridge. Funnily enough, though, you don't really feel hungover. Must have gotten it all out of your system the night before.

It's only fitting, when you think about Jungkook on the subway home, and how soberingly drunk the idea of him makes you feel. 

YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU SUNDAY 21:39

Brunch had, predictably, been a yawn-fest.

The people were perfectly nice, but you spent the entire time thinking about Jungkook; how you'd left him in a pretty slumber, the LEDs behind his computer still glowing, with not even so much as a note to say thank you.

It's not like he had any paper on his desk, and you weren't about to start rummaging around his room. You also didn't want to wake him. Part of it was because you knew you'd be saying goodbye, and the concept of that was one that you didn't like all that much.

And so your subway ride back to your dorm had been spent searching his name. He didn't take long to find. 

From the club's Instagram, you found GLOSS and quickly discovered that there was far more to both him and Blu-Tae than just being DJs. Their follower counts were wild. Numbers you know you'll never see on your own account. Verification check marks accented their display names. 

Who are you? You'd thought to yourself, incredibly perplexed by it all.

Jungkook was littered all over their pages, and yet it still took a while for you to click through to his account. You're not sure why, but think that perhaps the unknown was a nice place to reside within. Safer. 

CR3SC3NT_T0KK1 was his username—and curiously, Tokki was also his display name. Brows furrowed, you'd almost dropped your phone when you saw his follower count. It eclipsed both of his friends. 

Filled with gaming set-ups, merch drops, and general life dumps, it was pretty clear that whoever Jungkook had made himself out to be the night before was not who he was in real life. 

Equal parts offended and intrigued, you were only more confused when you saw that Rae was already following him—but not following Taehyung.

"What?" she'd beamed when you'd asked her about it after you'd arrived home from brunch, a scoop of hangover ice cream being waved around in the air with her flamboyant gestures. "He's, like, one of the biggest streamers in the country—and if I want to keep Tae obsessed with me, we need as many connections as possible. Jungkook's a frog to me, baby, not a prince. Don't you worry your little cotton socks. I'm not after him."

"I wouldn't care if you were," you'd blatantly lied in response, and then you'd giggled together at how ridiculous you were both being over boys you didn't really know.

Hovering over the bright purple 'JOIN STREAM' button later that evening, part of you holds back. Think it'd be weird. Strange. That he'd somehow know it was you.

Dipping your mouse, you tick the checkbox to join as an anonymous viewer. Take a breath. Think fuck it. Watch with bated breath as the loading wheel turns—and then he's there.

Jeon Jungkook has the kind of beauty that transcends shitty quality streams. Smiling as he jokes with one of his friends through a headset with a pair of black bunny ears affixed to the top of them, you hear a voice you almost recognise. Notice the friend he's streaming with in the top corner. Realise you do know him, too.

Hair as blue as the trees are green, Tae has just as much boyish charm as Jungkook, but also an incredibly large hickey that seems to match the ones on Rae's neck.

"Nah, can we get an L in the chat for Kook," he's teasing. Sure enough, the chat begins to explode with the letter, and Jungkook looks so pretty when he protests.

"It's not an L!"

"It is!" Tae insists. "Should have seen him, guys. Was following this girl around like a lovesick puppy—"

"No, I wasn't!"

"And she didn't even give him her number. Not even her name!"

"That's not true!" Jungkook whines. He switches between Korean and English with ease, sometimes just single words, other times whole sentences. "I have a name."

"What is it?"

"Not telling you."

"Cause you don't have one!"

"No, because you'll all make my life a living hell," Jungkook laughs—and then notices a bright blue comment lighting up in the chat. His eyes widen. "Fuck."

GLOSS: Was calling her Nabi when he got home last night Almost shit his pants when he saw me

"Yoongi, I'm gonna shave your eyebrows off in your sleep," Jungkook growls—only for the chat to start spamming butterfly emojis. Closing his eyes, he leans back in his chair, the still paused video game long forgotten about, now. Thousands of people are in their chat, and even more are watching the stream.

"Guys, get it trending," Taehyung goads. "Tweet, I dunno, bunny and butterfly emojis."

"Don't do that!"

"Hashtag find Jungkook's butterfly."

"Do NOT do that!"

"I'm like a modern-day cupid," Taehyung beams.

"I'm shaving your eyebrows, too."

Closing the stream, you sit for a moment, mouth ajar, unable to process what on earth you've just witnessed. Part of you feels as if it must have an incredibly vivid daydream; a projection of your heart's desire.

And you know you shouldn't, but when you get home from running errands the following day, you join the stream again. Blush when you notice the chat is still teasing Jungkook.

"I'm gonna block you all," he threatens them with a grin, which only encourages them to send even more butterfly emojis.

The next day is no different, nor the day after that.

He is, though. Has been letting it all play on his mind. Doesn't have much of a filter when it comes to streaming.

"What if she didn't even like me, guys," he whines to the chat. "And sees this and is like... mortified. I think I'd punch myself in the face if she ever saw any of this."

You toy with the idea of sending a comment into the chat. Something that only he'd realise was you. Thing is, you feel bad for intruding. As if you shouldn't be prying. As if you're eavesdropping on him chatting with friends, and not on the stream he's broadcasting live around the world.

Typing out a message, you deliberate your choice.

Punch urself in the face pls, tokki x the message reads. 

Simple. Effective. To the point.

But everyone calls him that, you stupidly realise, now.

And so you change the name to 'Mike'. 

Before you can even really realise what you've done, you've pressed send.

The message flitters into the chat feed. He's about to resume his game. Doesn't notice it at first.

Gives the chat one final glance, and then his eyes widen. He sits up taller. Straighter. "Mike?"

You close the lid of your laptop immediately.

"Fuck."

THE STREETS WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE FRIDAY 23:51

"Tae is on in five," Rae squeals, dragging you down the road at lightning speed. 

You'd spent far too long at dinner, and also had far too much to drink with your food, so have been forced to make an undignified sprint to the club in an attempt to make it in before the place reaches capacity.

There's already a queue. You can see it from a mile away.

Realistically, Rae could have gotten Taehyung to add her to the guest list. He'd offered. She didn't wanna look needy, so had played it coy about her plans for the evening. 

After a single beer and soju, she'd decided that the idea of him hooking up with anyone but her simply wouldn't do.

"Shit," she sighs in defeat, looking at the queue. The direction you've come from means that you reach the entrance before you reach the queue, but even then, you can tell it goes around the block. "Are there no other clubs these people can go to?!"

There are—but this club is rammed tonight for the same reason Club Sundown was rammed the week before. People want to see the Crescent Collective. 

You didn't realise it at the time, but you'd bypassed the queue of the second club last weekend because Jungkook had been with you.

And as if by a stroke of luck, or perhaps a twist of fate, the same tattooed hand that had held you as you slept last weekend is now putting out a cigarette just a few steps away.

Eyes landing on yours, he looks away again, almost immediately. Feels embarrassed. Stupid. For the way you left him, and also for the way he knows you must know who he is, now.

Behind a red rope, he's away from the general crowd. It's sort of obnoxious, you think—but also know Jungkook is anything but.

"They're with me," Jungkook says to the bouncer, not really looking at you, but nodding in your general direction. Is deliberately keeping a little distance. Instead, he says to Rae, "Tae wouldn't want you waiting in line."

Nodding, the security guard makes way for you, stamping the backs of your hands with UV-activated ink as you walk past.

"Thank you!" Rae beams.

"No worries," Jungkook smiles right back. "He's about to start. Was just getting air. You're lucky you arrived when you did."

"Angel," she praises. "I'll get you a drink while we're in there."

You know her well enough now to know that she absolutely will not, but you don't say anything. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest as you walk, suddenly feeling all awkward in Jungkook's presence.

"Nabi," he curtly greets you as you head down the stairs.

"Tokki," you greet him back just as formally. Consider calling him 'Mike' instead, but you chicken out.

Face scrunching up, Jungkook tries his best not to cringe at himself. Doesn't know if you're addressing him by his tattoo moniker, or just calling him Tokki because you know it's his identifier online.

"How have you been?" He asks, not wanting to let it simmer.

"Alright," you say, aware of how awkward this all feels, as you descend the stairs and into the club. The music is getting louder, and soon you won't be able to hear him talk unless you're in each other's ears. "And you?"

"Alright."

Just as quickly as he appeared, Jungkook is lost to the crowd. 

He doesn't care to stick around if he's just going to be hung out to dry by you again. He tells himself that he only made sure you got in to keep Rae happy for Taehyung's sake—yet as he rejoins his friends in their booth, he finds himself desperately seeking you out again.

It takes him a while, but he eventually spots you by the bar in conversation with Rae. He can't make out what you're saying, but notices how your eyes are flickering around the room. Seems as if you're hunting for something. 

Deep down, even if he pretends like he doesn't, he hopes it's for him.

Pulled away from your search by the bartender passing over drinks to the pair of you, Jungkook feels bad. Knows the drinks are pricey in this place. Also knows, from the conversations you've already had, that you're on a tight budget. Had said that once the semester starts, you'll stop going to parties. Are seemingly unaware of the fact the parties never stop in this city. You'll learn.

When your eyes finally land on his a little while later, you're surprised by his intense gaze—intrigued by his lack of shame for being caught out. He doesn't look away or appear embarrassed. If anything, it's quite the opposite.

Girls are vying for his attention all around him, yet you receive all of it. Half the room away, hundreds of people create a sea between you both. Jungkook thinks he'd swim through it, no matter how choppy the water, if it meant he could have you right now.

You're the one who left, though. 

It's up to you to come back.

Part of you doesn't want to, but then you see another girl making advances, and Rae's horror over other girls trying it on with Taehyung seems to have rubbed off on you. The idea of it makes your skin crawl. You're drunk, and a little reactive, but Jungkook likes playing with fire.

As you work your way through the crowd towards him, he tries his best not to grin. Finds himself vindicated in his desire to be close to you, 'cause it seems like you want it, too.

Sliding in between Jungkook and the girl, you turn and apologise.

"Just need to borrow him for a second," you smile, clutching at his shirt and pulling him away from the booth before she even has a chance to protest.

With an ever-so-satisfied smirk, Jungkook shrugs towards the other girl, and lets you drag him wherever you want. He's putty in your hands, a little tipsy and desperately in need of attention from you. 

For the past week, he's played scenario over scenario over scenario in his head about this moment, and now that it's happening, he's glad he let you seek him out. Is so pleased that you actively want him just as much as he wants you.

In the middle of the crowd, you're hidden from prying eyes. It's too dark to notice any discerning features of the people around you, yet somehow, Jungkook seems like a vibrant golden light to you. Impossible to miss. Unable to ignore.

You wanna talk. Ask him about who the fuck he is. Explain that you didn't mean to leave so heartlessly.

Taehyung's set is so overwhelmingly loud, though. Can barely even hear yourself think.

As soon as he'd spotted Rae in the crowd, Taehyung had sent the bar coordinator to go and get her. She's sitting pretty up in the DJ booth, incredibly pleased with herself. Notices you and Jungkook almost immediately. Knows it'll be on Twitter in the next few hours, especially if that damn butterfly tattoo of yours is noticed.

Bunnies and butterflies have been trending for days.

Jungkook speaks, but you can't hear him.

"Huh?" You ask, getting on your tippy toes, but it's fruitless. Even as his hand drops to your waist to steady you and keep you in place, you can barely make out his words. "I can't hear you!"

He can't hear jack shit, either. Frowns. Looks around. Spots Yoongi by the booth and gestures towards the side of the room. When Yoongi nods back, it's Jungkook who drags you through the crowd, now. Just beyond the DJ booth is a little black door that Yoongi meets you by. Taps in the code. Nods in your direction.

"A pleasure," he says with a knowing smirk. Miraculously, you can hear him, but ultimately, it's because you're not in the direct line of the speakers now.

You don't get a chance to respond before Jungkook gets you into what can only described as a dark hole as quickly as he can. Romance, you think to yourself, but you also are very aware of the fact Jungkook doesn't let go of your hand, even when he's searching for the light switch. It takes him a second, but he manages to recall the approximate location quickly enough.

Dingy yellow light floods into the room. Small and boxy, it's a 3-in-1 storage room, bathroom, and dressing room for 'talent'. It's why Yoongi had the code, but you can't imagine anyone with any shred of self-respect actually using this place. The walls are the same grey tiles as the floor, and the light bulb hangs from a wire without a shade. The tap on the sink drips, and you're pretty sure there's a leak in the far corner by the mirror.

None of that matters, though. All you can focus on is the man in front of you. Though not soundproof, the room does offer a far more muted version of Taehyung's set. More importantly, it provides you with privacy.

It's been a week since you last saw him, face to face.

Though you have, admittedly, seen him what feels like a million times on low-quality streams from his bedroom.

Realistically, it's been about three times, but you think about it almost constantly.

"You left," is all he says, a little pout on his lips.

It's cute, you think, that he is so outwardly offended by such an act. You would have thought that a man of his position would have a habit of leaving, himself. Then again, you didn't know of his status when you left him in bed that morning.

"And you didn't die," you reply with a teasing smile, trying not to make it sound so severe. "You were fine without me."

"I'm not joking," he says, even if he can't help but smile at the recollection of how stupid the conversation before bed had been. "You left. It was rude."

"I had brunch plans," you tell him, reaching your hands out for his. He wants to resist. Fails. Lets you pull him closer. Incredibly close, in fact. So close that you begin to notice all sorts of things. His freckles. A small scar on his cheek. A tiny fleck of glitter on his skin, no doubt from one of the girls who had been desperate for his attention earlier. "You'd only had a few hours sleep. I didn't want to disturb you."

"Could have left a note," he says, still pouty but far quieter. You can smell the Jack on his breath. Have always hated the taste, but think you could grow to like it. "Your number. Something, at least."

"I could've," you admit, edging even closer. Closing the gap. Nudging your nose against his. But then you smile. Pull back. Tease, "And you could have warned me that I'd become a trending topic on Twitter."

Just like that, Jungkook's pout snaps into the prettiest smile. His face scrunches up, lines creasing on his nose. Beneath his closed eyes reside the sweetest little puffs. He's got the kind of face that is impossible not to like.

"Ah," he cringes.

"Yeah," you laugh at the stupidity of it all. What did he expect? That you wouldn't find out? "Ah."

"In my defence," he holds his hands up, eyes wide and innocent. "You called me Tokki. How was I to know you didn't know?"

"Oh, give over," you laugh, as he reaches for your hands once again. Pulls you closer. "You know I didn't know."

Truthfully, he does know this, but it was nice to be unknown for a little while. Nice to not second guess your intentions. Even now, knowing that you know, he feels like none of it matters. 

"Look," he begins, toying with the hem of your cropped shirt. Lets his fingertips graze your bare skin. Tries his best not to think about what you look like half-naked. Fails. "I only came out tonight 'cause I hoped I'd see you. I don't care about staying out till ass-o'clock, again."

"Think I've only just caught up on sleep," you hum, angling your chin up and giving him the perfect opportunity to make a move that goes beyond flirtatious touches.

"Exactly," he smiles, letting his hand squeeze the side of your waist. Pulls you closer. "And I've not drunk half as much tonight, but I think I could do with you making sure I don't die, again."

"Yeah?"

Nodding as he nudges his nose against yours, Jungkook is all smiles. Lets his lips line up against your pout.

"Yeah," he mumbles—then lets the word get lost in your lips.

Sinking into what it feels like to kiss you, Jungkook can't help but feel satisfaction. Has finally caught the damn butterfly he's been after all week. 

He's played a lot of games. Won a lot of battles.

And yet victory has never tasted so sweet.

JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU SATURDAY 02:07

You retrace your steps. Get a taxi to his place, 'cause there's no point pretending like he can't afford it. Not anymore.

You're not giggling like you were the first time you were in his elevator, but it's kind of impossible to do so when your back is to the wall and Jungkook's tongue is in your mouth.

Your hands roam his body—waist, ass. If you can squeeze it, you will. Just makes him deepen the kisses. If his large hands weren't cupping your jaw, keeping you close, they'd be doing the exact same thing as yours.

The ding of the elevator pulls you apart just for a second, and then you're the one pulling him down to the corridor to his place.

He doesn't open the door. Just kisses you again. 

Finally understands what it means to get butterflies, 'cause he's got you, now, and he never wants to lose it.

Hooking his hands beneath your ass, he hoists you up. Gets your legs wrapped around him. Could go in, but where's the fun in that? There's a slight danger of getting caught. He knows the hallway security cameras will definitely pick this up. The threat that it could get leaked online, and the simple fact that he couldn't give a shit if it does, is kind of hot.

"I'm not fucking you out here," you tell him through a hushed giggle, when he rests his forehead against yours.

"Woah," he jokes. "Who said anything about fucking?"

"I can literally feel your boner, Jungkook."

"Touché."

He doesn't even attempt to downplay it. He puts you down. Gets you through the threshold of his apartment. Shoes off by the door, there's no need to be quiet. Yoongi and Taehyung are still out, and will be for hours. He could take his time if he really wanted.

But what he wants is you. Doesn't waste time. Gets you in his room. Kinda feels like you never left. Jungkook still wishes you hadn't, but doesn't mind the idea of you making it up to him now.

"So," you hum, trailing your fingertips across his desk. "This is where the magic happens?"

He smiles a little bashfully, head dropping for a moment before his eyes are on yours again. "Yeah. You could say that."

Now that you're back in his space, it's a little embarrassing just how many clues there were. A headset rests on the desk—black, robust, with his signature bunny ears secured on top—and a mic is hooked up by the monitor. The webcam doesn't look special, but the keyboard subtly glows in his darkened room. Violet, like the LEDs behind his screen.

A laptop covered in vinyl stickers is closed next to the set-up. He uses it when he's not streaming on his desktop. At least three of the stickers are of the Crescent Collective's logo.

Turning to fully face him, you rest your palms behind yourself and perch on the edge of the desk.

He gets a little kick out of seeing you so flippantly disregard the domain in which he dominates. Gives him a point to prove. Gets him closing the space between you, hands on your waist, dipping to your ass to leverage further back on his desk. Knows it's sturdy, 'cause he built it himself, but has never tested out quite how strong it really is. Thinks now's as good a time as any to find out.

Your legs wrap around his body with no thought, just the innate understanding that you want him in a way you're sure thousands of people have only dreamt of: in his room, on his desk, that damn 'Go Live' button just a few short clicks away.

Reaching beside you, there's a smirk on your lips as you retrieve his headset. Put it on him. Say, "The ears are cute, Tokki."

He rolls his eyes. Is fighting a smile, and currently losing. He's seen some lewd shit during his time on the internet and is well aware of the fanart that includes the ears and little else. Always found it kinda funny, before.

Now? He's so hard it almost hurts, and he thinks he could grow to like it.

As your arms drape over his shoulders, he takes them off. Puts them on you, instead. Adjusts the sizing. Gets them just right for you. Is attentive, like that. Pulls his head back a little, and then realises what a problem you're gonna be for him.

It's not so much the addition of animal ears that's getting him insatiable, but seeing you adorned with a crown that is so inherently his that does it.

Jungkook's no saint. He's had his fair share of one-nighters. A couple hours of fun never to be spoken of again. Since the group of them signed to their management agency, they've been repeatedly told how important it is to get NDA's signed. Something about it always feels so icky to Jungkook. Cruel, almost. Has only had a couple hook-ups since then, both with flings he's known for a good couple of years, with no fear of them spilling the beans on how prettily he whines when he cums.

You're the first new girl in a long time. He knows he should really pause things before you cut to the chase—but then your hand is trailing down his thick forearm, delicately stroking his rabbit moon with a curious smile. Decides he doesn't care.

"The ears are cute," he replies. Teasingly adds, "Nabi."

The position of your arms over his shoulders ensures the tattoos he'd traced the week before are fully displayed for him. As his eyes drop to your butterfly, you're curiously smitten by the way his lips move to press a kiss against it again.

"Suit me?"

"Mhmm," he hums, eyes flickering back up to yours. "Should also get you a pair of butterfly wings, or something."

"I'd make you wear them," you tell him with a cheeky glint in your eye. "Turn you into a butterfly, yourself. Your girlies in the chat would love that."

Jungkook knows without a shadow of a doubt he'd let you. Not for the girlies in the chat, but for you.

Ghosting his lips against yours, he's waiting for you to press down. Is letting you take the lead.

Your kisses are sweet. Tepid. Reserved.

You're feeling; his hands on your waist, the pressure of his lip rings, the presence of his nose.

And then he's feeling; your bare skin as his large hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt, the way your legs wrap around him, the vibration of a small groan against his lips.

The skirt you're in is bunched around your hips, and the positioning is just right for you to feel how hard he is against your underwear. It's a little undignified, you'll admit, but you're impatient, so you take control. Reposition his hand between your legs. Encourage him to take things further.

"Yeah?" He checks.

Nodding into a needy kiss, you mumble, "Please."

It might've been a while, but Jungkook's muscle memory is enviable. He's the best player on the team for that very reason.

As he hooks your underwear to the side, he's pleased to be greeted with indications of your arousal. Smirks into the kisses he's giving you, as his fingertips graze against your clit. Trails his lips to your neck. Wants to hear the way you gasp as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you.

"Fuck," you sigh at the welcome intrusion. Nod, as he curls his finger almost immediately. He's got a lot to thank those damn video games for, that's for sure.

Softly moaning, just how he hoped you would, there's an arch to your back as he picks up a pace. The need to perform, almost.

Head tipping back as Jungkook fucks another finger into you, you're unable to think too cognitively. Can only think about the way he feels. The smell of his hair as he presses kisses against your neck, and how prominent his collarbones are as your nails trail up his toned torso.

"Feels so good," you tell him. Move the hand of yours that's been resting on his shoulder to his hair. Tug on it a little. Elicit the prettiest of whines from him.

There's something to be said for making a man—especially one of such strength, stature, status—so weak. Gets you all giggly. Jungkook can feel the satisfaction ripple through your entire body, and it just makes him groan against your neck even more.

"You're so wet," he praises, pulling back to study your face as he plays with you. Lets his thumb stroke up against your clit ever so gently. Revels in the way you get a little shaky. Twitchy. With those damn bunny ears, you really are like a little rabbit. Jungkook finally understands why the fan artists choose to draw him in such a way. It is hot. "You're making me so fuckin' hard."

And then you're giggling again.

"Is it a joke to you, huh?" He smirks. Looks down at your pussy, all swollen and sopping wet for him, in the hazy violet light of his room. Knows that his throbbing cock is gonna stuff you so fuckin' full that laughing won't be an option. Is desperate for it. "How badly I want you is just a big joke to you, huh, bunny?"

The way he groups you in with his moniker is too damn hot.

"Dunno," you rasp, desperately trying to hold off the orgasm that's building inside you. "Fuck me and find out."

Reaching for the button of his trousers, you're quick as you wrestle his jeans down over his ass. Don't bother pushing them down entirely. Just enough to get his boxers exposed, and in turn, his thick cock. Hard and engorged, his desperation for you is evident. A small patch of precum seeps through the fabric of his boxers. He curses as your thumb strokes against it.

"Condom?" You ask, knowing you've got none on you.

"Hold that thought," he says, regretfully pulling away from you.

Watching on as he pushes down his jeans, and strips himself of his shirt, you're at a loss for words. You've seen him like this before, but it's so much hotter knowing that he's gonna be fucking himself into you as soon as he possibly can.

Jungkook could very easily lead you to his bed. Get you comfy. Reach to his bedside cabinet for a condom. Fuck you how he likes—doggy-style, minimal face-to-face contact—and be done with it all very quickly.

Instead, he says, "Stay here."

Doing as you're told, you watch on as he walks to the cabinet, and retrieves a condom. Admire his back, and his broad shoulders. The valley of his spine, and the hard work he's put into crafting his physique. Smirk to yourself as he dips into his boxers. Strokes himself. Once, twice. Tears the packet open with his teeth, just like you were always taught not to do, and rolls the latex down his thick shaft.

"What?" he smirks as he walks back, realising your eyes are transfixed on his cock.

You say nothing. Smile. Hold your hands out for Jungkook to take, just so you can pull him back even quicker.

Lips pressing into yours as he closes the gap, Jungkook is all smiles. Rubs the head of his cock against your pussy, gathering up your arousal all over his tip. Lines himself up with your entrance. Waits for you to give him the go-ahead.

Hand on his ass, you pull him closer. Edge the crown of his cock into you. Whimper. Beg. "Please."

Sinking into you with a laboured grunt, he's surprised with how much tighter you are around his cock than you were with his fingers. Wet and warm, there's an undeniable pleasure that sparks through his body as he gets familiar with the way you feel.

Slowly, his hips begin to pick up a pace. As his tongue strokes into your mouth, there's no dignity to the way he's taking you. The increased pace means heightened moans, and it's not just you—it's him, too.

"Shit, yeah," he grits. "So fuckin' tight, aren't you?"

Whining, you nod into his kisses. Are at his entire disposal as he grips your waist, proving exactly why Tokki is the perfect nickname for him.

As much as he likes the ears, he's a little worried that he might fuck you so hard they fall off. Doesn't wanna break them, and definitely doesn't wanna think about the story the boys would make up when they go live tomorrow to tease him—but also really wants to fuck you harder.

Which is funny, cause the way he tugs them off with such desperation and tosses them down, you'd be forgiven for thinking he couldn't care less about breaking them. Doesn't give you a chance to say anything, 'cause his big hands are cradling your face, bringing you in for desperate kisses once more.

There's a lewdness to the sounds you make together, but Jungkook knows that if he was an entirely different kind of streamer, you'd make bank together. Wonders about the way it would look on camera. Worries. Pauses.

"You good?" You check a little breathlessly as he reaches behind you, just to tug the wire to his webcam from the plus.

"Yeah," he nods, still fiddling around behind you. Smiles in the hedonistic haze as your lips find a new home on his neck. Strokes your hair gently, and presses a kiss to the side of your head. Quietly says, "Just making sure there's no way in hell I accidentally start streaming."

You hum, all purry and pliant. "People would pay good money to see it."

While he agrees, and has had the same thought process, he doesn't care. "You saying I should be charging you for this?"

"Oh, no," you say all very sweetly. "You should be paying me."

"I'll pay you with orgasms," he promises, knowing that it's a rare currency for one-night strands.

You smirk. Pat the top of his head. "Sure you will."

If there's one thing Jungkook loves, it's a challenge.

Pulling back, he turns you around. Gets you bent over his desk with zero opposition from you. Rubs himself against your soaked cunt, then asks, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smirk, and then settle into a sigh as he pushes into you. The feeling of fullness from Jungkook is one that's hard to compare. So thick, and fat, and heavy, his cock really is just as impressive as he is.

With one hand hooked at the crease of your thigh, the other holds the top of your shoulder. Gets you pushed down onto his cock as far as you possibly can be. There's a slight reflection in his streaming plaque beside the monitor, and you're pleased to see just how intensely focused he is on you, brows furrowed, pretty pink lips resting ajar. The silver of his lip rings and chain catch in the light, and you find you can't look at him for too long. He's too hot.

But then he's reaching down for your clit as he fucks into you. Has your legs shaking. The waves of a familiar sensation begin to lap against the shores of your pleasure.

"Fuck," you whine. "Feels good. Keep it like that."

Jungkook knows better than to ignore your requests. Does as he's told, the pressure of his fingers on your clit only deepening. Rubbing calculated circles against you, he knows just how to work you up. Gets you whining. Mewling. Moaning.

"Gonna cum, aren't you?" he smirks, as his own high builds.

"Fuck—"

"C'mon," he husks, feeling your walls tighten around him. He doesn't stop his relentless chase. Will win your orgasms fair and square. Continues pounding into you. Pace fast, strokes deep, he's everything you could ever want and more—and then he's slowing. Keeping you plugged, nice and deep, but focusing on the way he's toying with your clit. "You know you wanna cream for me. All over my cock, pretty Nabi. C'mon—"

"I'm close," you all but whimper. "So—fuck. So close."

"Yeah, you are," he tells you—and then your legs are shaking, pussy tightly clamping around his cock, one hand tense against his desk while the other grabs at his wrist. Uncontrollable, is the way you whine for him. It's so needy—so desperate and pathetic—that it's almost a sob. Jungkook doesn't ease up. In fact, his hips gain a little pace again as your orgasm shatters around you both. He's breathless, but manages to choke out, "Flithy fuckin' cunt. Feels so fuckin' good. Fuck."

The frail limpness of your body as the orgasm smokes away is cute. Jungkook loves it. You're so weak for him. He fucks into you still, chasing his own high, and your whines only get louder. It's overwhelming, but you never want to lose the feeling.

It doesn't take much. Just a minute or so of your tight cunt, and Jungkook is pulling out. Even though he doesn't ask you to, you get to your knees as he tears the condom off.

"In my mouth," you beg, and who is he to reject such an offer?

Jerking himself to completion, Jungkook is all pretty and pathetic when he cums, too. Looks at you with eyes so starry you'd been forgiven for thinking he was a descendant of the constellations.

He milks the final few spurts of himself onto your wet tongue, and curses when you press dainty kisses to his tip. Stroking your tongue against him, you don't want to waste a drop. Look up at him and find that his eyes are resting shut from the pleasure of it all.

Silence surrounds you both, just your beating hearts and laboured breaths filling to the room. He helps you up. Holds you tight. Hugs you for a little while, then presses a kiss to the side of your head. "Thanks."

"My pleasure," you giggle - and then he's smiling, too. Feels vindicated by his irrational thoughts about you over the last few days. He pays no mind to the fact you're still technically dressed, and he's basically naked.

As he sorts himself out, you perch back up on his desk and languidly swing your legs. Enjoy the thought of memories plaguing him whenever he tried to play his little games over the next few days.

"You wanna grab a shower?" he offers. "Food, too? Dunno about you, but I'm fuckin' starving."

"Same," you nod, biting down on your bottom lip. "I'll go wash up, you sort food? Are places still open for delivery?"

Checking his phone for the time, Jungkook is surprised that it's closer to midnight than it is to his morning alarm. Only a handful of places will offer delivery at this time, but that's enough.

"Works for me," he says with a yawn, then opens what you had assumed was the closet door. Reveals an en-suite and knocks his head to the side. "Get your shower. Gimmie a shout if you need anything."

Tiles large and grey, it's the perfect counterpart to his bedroom. A little dark, but it's only because Jungkook hates using the big light. Always flicks the small light switches instead. There's a window overlooking the city, and even though you're only seven floors up, the hills of Yongsan-gu mean that he's got a view you could only dream of.

You're about to start the shower up when he calls through. "Is pizza good?"

"Pizza's good," you call back with a smile. Look yourself in the mirror and wonder how the fuck you ended up in the bathroom of arguably the most famous person you've ever met. Decide it's better not to question it.

The shower begins to cascade down, even if your sins are washed way, you know you won't be able to forget the feeling of Jungkook so easily.

Truth be told, you won't even try.

YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU SUNDAY 21:13

"L in the chat," booms the voice of Taehyung through your laptop speakers. His trademark grin rests on his face as he teases Jungkook.

You've only just opened the stream. Instantly, you focus on the prettily lopsided smirk of Jungkook's lips. You've learned it's an almost permanent fixture on his boyish face. Shaking his head, he's adjusting his headset. Making it a little looser so that it'll fit him properly.

No one is questioning it.

What they are questioning, is where the fuck that pretty purple bruise on his neck has come from.

"Cross-fit," Jungkook just shrugs, knowing that it's the colloquial term for suspicious bruises after some idol used the same excuse. Blatant horseshit. Jungkook doesn't care.

"I've never done cross-fit, but I know you're bullshitting," Taehyung snorts.

The chat seems to agree with him.

"Thought I was a virgin?" Jungkook states a little cheekily, making reference to Taehyung's usual banter. "How else would I get one?"

Taehyung knows better than the retort. Knows that Jungkook could very easily slip something about Rae into the conversation.

Virgin? You type through a message on a private discord chat with Jungkook. He'd set it up the day before. Has already sent you, like, a thousand messages. Is what can only be described as obsessed—but it's mutual. Could have fooled me.

As his eyes glance down to his laptop screen, he fails to hide his smile. Had opened your chat on there, cause he didn't wanna accidentally broadcast the messages onto his stream. Despite this, he doesn't care that there are nearly 10,000 people in his stream merely minutes into it. Is far more interested in his chat thread with you. Replies immediately.

Stop distracting meI'm working</3

Giggling as the message pings through to you, there's a giddy quality to the way Jungkook makes you feel.

He'd spent the day in bed with you after your night together. Had wanted you to stay when he started streaming that evening. Said he'd only be an hour or so, and was incredibly pouty when you did leave.

It had just been him on last night's stream—headset off 'cause he didn't wanna adjust it back yet, hoodie on to hide his neck. The other boys were nursing hangovers, so he could do what he liked.

What he did do had you incredibly curious. Was just chatting. Talking to the comment section. Sleepily reeling off facts he'd recently learned about butterflies. Debating over their lifespan.

You're not naive to the fact that Jungkook does this streaming stuff as a profession, and are aware that the more people talking about his stream on other platforms, the more viewers he'll get.

Made sense for him to add fuel to the butterfly-related fire by talking about them.

Had sent you a message earlier that evening to ask what kind of butterfly you had on your skin.

A Monarch, you'd told him.

"See, the thing is," Jungkook had rambled to his viewers a little later on. "Most butterflies have super short lifespans—Monarch's included."

Eyes all starry, lights in his bedroom purple as per usual, he'd looked cosy. You wished you'd have stayed.

"But there's a specific kind. Migrating Monarchs. They're the last of their generation—the final butterflies of the year," he marvelled at the magic of it all.

His facts were a little hazy, but he knew enough. Had been down a you-shaped rabbit hole all afternoon.

"And they migrate, right? Move away from home—somewhere warmer—and then it just extends their lifespan. 180 days. Not 30. That's six months. Six months. It's a long time. It's not fleeting. Not in the slightest."

It's also, curiously, exactly how long you're scheduled to stay in Korea for.

"I dunno," Jungkook had just sighed, a little forlorn, trying to make sense of his thoughts.

He bit down on his bottom lip, stroking his thumb against the hard plastic ears of his headset, then focused on the camera again. Wondered if you were watching. 

He simply shrugged. Said, "Counts for something, though, right?"

[theeredwitch]

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Non-Cliche Astro Takes:

☾𖤓 hey there! I’m Deidre, I’m a professional tarot reader and musician, and I’ve been studying the occult for about a decade. Here are some less-commonly noted astrology observations that I’ve picked up on over the years. For more posts like this, tarot readings, esoteric content, and music, give me a follow. Enjoy! ☾𖤓

꩜ Aries aren’t loud for no reason, and depending on their aspects to Mercury/where Mars is, they may not be loud at all. What people mistake for “loudness” is them being chronically unheard and/or repeatedly needing to express their softer feelings by way of frustration. They often feel that their softer emotions aren’t taken seriously until it turns to anger. It’s the only time their feelings are seemingly given any attention.

꩜ That stubbornness in Taurus that y’all love to poke fun at? A lot of the time, that’s them recognizing what they’re worth and accepting nothing less. They’re the type to turn down a “chump change” gig because they know it’s a waste of their energy and effort. Additionally, being Venus-ruled, they tend to are good at being “home-y” people. This only becomes a problem when they extend that cozy energy to the wrong people — they’d do well to learn from their sister sign’s (Scorpio) knack for privacy.

꩜ Gemini (especially Venus’) mean what they say when they utter the phrase “oh, I listen to anything.” Their playlists have the widest genre variety, easily. Their wardrobes are the same. One day, they’re rocking a goth getup, and the next they’re sashaying around in a Gunne-Sax gown like Florence Welch. Their versatility knows no bounds, which is often mistaken for being a “poser.” Their Mercurial minds hold much more information than they get credit for.

꩜ Cancer are much more vindictive than we realize. I’d argue much more than Scorpio (especially Cancer Moons). Don’t get me wrong, they’re sweethearts and are quite sensitive to the energetic world, but they pack a punch. Never forget that they’re a Cardinal sign just like Aries! They are most easily motivated when their tender hearts are considered by those around them.

꩜ Looking for a hype-person? Look no further than Leo. They’re like the intimidating “it-girl” except they want YOU to be the “it-girl” alongside them. Don’t be turned off by their confidence and bold exterior because they’re more than willing to spread that light to their loved ones. They are judged for being a bit selfish, but selfishness is not inherently bad/negative. Leo shows us how to shine without being ashamed.

꩜ Virgo is so much more than Excel, deep-cleaning, and organization. While yes, they value order, they only do so because they are a purifying energy. It’s easier for them to be their best selves and truly lean into the ‘healer’ archetype if their space, and mind, is clear. I’ve personally found that they have incredible intuitions, particularly Virgo rising. Being ruled by Mercury gives them one hell of a perceptive mind. They also are very good teachers/work well with children (Virgo moon/Mercury especially).

꩜ Why does everyone think that beautiful Libra is all golden-hour, Aphrodite, and Coquette aesthetics? As much as those things do play into Libra’s energy, we can’t forget that this sign is exalted in Saturn. Their shadow side is often over-looked or assumed not to exist at all because they are ruled by Venus. Many people are drawn to Libra initially because of their beautiful aura and natural glow, but those that understand Libra stick around because they recognize their depth. Libras can’t forget how multifaceted they are, though — don’t fall victim to the short-sighted projections of others!

꩜ Scorpio, the fiery water sign! Similarly to Libra, I see Scorpio get labeled as moody, brooding, dark, suffering artists. While they do have a tendency for the macabre at times, they cherish the opportunities they get to embrace their lighter side. Curling up with their favorite person and playing Animal Crossing on a couple of bean bags is a dream night to a lot of Scorpios. They have a vast inner world and a similar temperament to Aries (they’re both ruled by Mars, traditionally).

꩜ Sagittarius are, arguably, one of the more open-minded energies in the Zodiac. I feel sometimes their endless questions come across as judgmental to others, when it’s truly just them trying to satiate their curiosity. At their worst, they play Devil’s Advocate, but it’s mainly because they know what it feels like to have your voice dismissed (Sag moons/Mercury, imo). They are open books and love to spend time around different cultures, belief systems, languages, or anything considered “foreign” to them. Very prone to go down Wikipedia rabbit holes.

꩜ Capricorn is often viewed as rigid and cold, but that’s just their auto-pilot persona for before they’re comfortable. Their dry, sardonic humor is truly goat’d (pun intended). As with any Saturnian sign/aspect, these folks tend to carry a heavy burden from a young age. Often times, they love things from the past. History, literature, music, clothing styles, etc. Their “obsession” with money is more so a craving for stability. Capricorns (moons especially) have no problem playing the long game so…do with that information what you will.

꩜ As much as I love the alien Aquarius stereotype, these folks are truly outside-the-box thinkers. They seem “alien” and unable to relate to because they do not fit into any mold that has ever been expected of/placed on them. Also ruled by Saturn (traditionally), Aquarius takes the lessons they go through and usually want to use them to improve the world/their community. I think of them as the more “public” provider rather than an “interpersonal” provider like Capricorn.

꩜ Finally, my lovely Pisces. They’re not crybabies (really, they’re not…that’s Aries)they just have really bad allergies this time of year so give them a break! These little fish are hard to pin down and that’s how they like it. Being perceived really does bother them at times (Pisces stelliums/Moons, esp) so a healthy amount of alone time is a must. I’ve noticed they tend to love statues, plushies, and other artsy/collectible figurine-adjacent things. They’ll also watch holiday movies year-round (Halloween, Christmas, doesn’t matter).

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[bubblybloob]

I have a feeling, and bear with me here, that each of the voices’ own chapters are where they’re their worst selves.

Think about it. Hunted plays right in the Beast’s hands, yet he is incredibly useful in dodging Razor and kind of acts like a predator instead of prey in Eye of the Needle. Skeptic overanalyzes every minute detail that he can in Prisoner and his encouragement ends in us getting a shackle around our neck, but in Den and Eye of the Needle he is an integral part of the plan to lure the princess out.

This is why it’s hard to tell what’s really up with some voices, for example let’s look at Broken. Broken is actively working against us in Tower, yet is rather gentle in Wild. I believe the only other two instances he appears in is in the two “Everyone is here” chapters where he is overshadowed and is literally called by Opportunist the worst of the bunch in Clarity, which isn’t necessarily inaccurate but it only serves to worsen his reputation when he doesn’t seem all that bad when he’s our secondary voice to show up in Wild. Though again, Wild is our only example of him being like this, and all voices brought into the Wild seem a little too passive. I wonder if there was another chapter where he was our secondary voice and with no huge “everyone is here” event, he’d act differently.

Paranoid is a toss up because he spends most of Nightmare being unable to speak up, he’s too busy trying to keep you alive, and when he does speak he usually says something generally useful, like getting the narrator to shut up or theorizing His control over their situation. Though to be fair his whole existence as a voice of paranoia in our head gets dampened by the absolute insane situation we’re forced into in every route, so most of what he says ends up sounding relatively reasonable despite what his title implies. I’m pretty sure anyone would be paranoid if they kept coming back to life and are forced to kill the same woman who continues evolving in how she looks and behaves.

Cheated is like if Broken’s problems and Paranoids problems were mixed together. His own string of chapters is a big “everyone is here” adventure, so obviously attention gets diverted away from him to make room for the others. Even then, this is where he’s at his worst, so what about where he’s at his best? Sadly, he is actually a little hard to get given the situations you have to enact that most players won’t follow on. I myself have never gotten him outside of Razor. I wonder how much we’re all actually aware of what he’s like at his best instead of his worst.

I do remember Black Tabby Games saying something along the lines of them wanting voices to be more useful outside of their own chapters, so I wonder if that contributed to this feeling I’ve been getting from them.

[wishfulsketching]

So. That was Arcane. As a whole.

Best episode of the season was episode 7. I might be a bit biased thanks to Silco and Vander living it up as their older selves but also, Ekko is truly the mvp of the show.

I hmm. Well. Victor. I see what was going on there. I see the vision. I loved lot of it. I had the sudden realizations of "that's Victor, right" before it happened....dude looked more like Jesus than ever before too. But uhh. Hmm. Hmm. There is like a chapter missing between s1 and s2 with Victor. Or more like mid season 2 chapter. Love my boy still. I did not care for his Machine Herald look. I liked the idea of the face being split. It hmm. I feel like they said, instead of showed, a lot with Victor this season.

My controversial opinion: Isha was unnecessary. The black rose mage stuff was unnecessary. Same end result could've been achieved with other means. Vi was just there to experience things and be sad. Jinx can't have shit and should suffer all the time, I guess.

BUT

Nice

My man was a positive voice for Jinx. Uhhh in a way. Kinda made her go suicidal but like, he was trying. He is always trying. Even after death. Maybe after his hallucination talk people will understand that Silco wasn't just a evil dude with evil things to do, he was as trapped as everyone else in Zaun and wanted to break free.

Tho, I doubt it. The main enemy in Arcane is the class divide. In my eyes.

I do love the exploration of Hextech and how using magic in a technological way can be super dangerous and fuck shit up. I wanted to see that. And I did see that in season 1, when Jayce realizes how dangerous the hextech weapons are! Exploring the time loop and how abstract magic is, was great! I just.

I love this show. Very much. Season 1, no notes. It's made for me.

Season 2 seems like a people pleaser. And I am pleased! Yet I also wanted something different.

I am still happy because I got my vindication. Zaundads is canon, fuck yeah! No man looks at another man like that and is not in love with them!

I loved that they kept that Vander still tried to kill Silco. Silco went "yea ok that ass too good to quit. What is little murder between lovers, anyway. Come here bby"

Only thing. Silco should've interacted with Jinx in the alternative timeline. A simple "you look beautiful" when she has her entrance or "hey here's snack have fun building whatever you guys are building. Don't make too much noise, your father and I need to get up early tomorrow ok bye bye my perfect little genius"

[iznsfw]

Manic Robotic Dream Girl

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 4 - Choi Yena

IZ*ONE's Choi Yena x Male Reader Smut

8,311 words

Neon lights dance like flames around you. There’s no need to touch them when you’re already burning. Burning with something that’s not a fever but a kind of pain that never goes away. 

Sweat pricks the sides of your face and you’re aware of the blots of perspiration running down your jawline. Nights at the Rogue are often hot, but then they surprise you with a sudden burst of windiness, so you never bother to take your coat off. Whatever and wherever, you’ll always be here yet you’ve not once been able to predict the temperature.

That’s what happened when WAKE12 took over. 

Apparently, they decide if people are under the weather by controlling it by them-fucking-selves. Kwon feeling shitty? Looks like rain then. Maybe she’s feeling happy? Alright, let the clouds find balance. Angry? Take a fucking hailstorm. What a privilege, one bigger than the lives of the rich men in the North. But everyone forgets about that fact after she sends out minimal alms—canned goods, a Bible, something. Then it’s back to President Kwon is the best! President Kwon can never fail us! President—

“Vodka.”

“Same as yesterday?” asks Yuri, smiling a little bit. 

“Same as yesterday.” For a hologram, Yuri can be quite the social butterfly. 

Online wallets are all the rage nowadays. The AI voice in your head offers you said option to pay, and you can hear your balance privately spoken. Somehow your brow prevents from creasing as you hear it. You lack funds but somehow have a few extra bucks to drink. 

Choose that. You want to save your Wizes for other things. Lock eyes with Yuri and your balance goes down. You’ve paid. 

Online and digital wallets modified with embedded signals and readers were in use before you were even born. Of course, there were already such payment options in the twenty-first century, but how WAKE12 changed everything, not just ordering options with telepathic payment, can easily be read in a sixth grade history textbook. 

In October of the year 2918, Kwon Eunbi rose in the ranks as a scientist and soldier for Kang Hyewon, former president, and ended up working her way into dictatorship. The textbooks and classrooms teach that she proposed a law to the court and got herself a position for her wit and intelligence. But early first accounts challenge that, saying that she caught the eye of Kang and had a sexual relationship with her. WAKE12 branded this as propaganda that sullies the name of not only the dictator but the one of the late president, who died mysteriously before Kwon rose to power.

Massive backstory for cashless payment, but you know there’s more to it than the government would like to let on. What happened to Kang? What made Kwon so evil the moment she sat in her presidential throne?

“Thank you, sir.” Holograms all have different voices; Yuri’s sounds like she’s singing. At least the bartender slash boss hired her instead of those with monotone, emotionless ones. It’s cheaper to have hologram workers than humans anyway. Less money, less emotional labor, less of feeling like a normal person.

A beggar curled up below the counter holds his hand out. Not an uncommon sight in the Auster, but it’s a pity to see. The world has advanced with its telepathic wallets and 3D holograms yet there will always be individuals who haven’t caught up with time. While the North Rogue leads worldly lifetimes, the Auster is a home for the rejects. The poorest of the poor. The somewhere-in-the-middles. It can never be truly a perfect world if advancement doesn’t include everyone.

Give him a Wize. Back then, that would have been worth a hundred or so dollars, a currency long gone. Not that you’d know of it; WAKE12 claimed leadership way before you were born so the cheap value of the coin studded with the bust of Kwon Eunbi is all you’re accustomed to. 

Take your drink and thank Yuri. 

The cobblestone is rough beneath your feet. You take your seat at your usual table. Float your fingers around your shotglass. Pour the contents down your chapped mouth almost all in one go. Anything to feel something. Anything to feel anything. 

You’re not an alcoholic by any means, though that’s certainly up for debate. But there’s a need for the liquid that rages more than the need for oxygen (the fucking shortage of it) or food (the fucking expense of it). How else could you be less numb? You’re welcome to every feeling at this stage, just not this empty neutrality that slumbers your senses.

Pain? Your throat seizes up when you drink and brings tears to your eyes, so there's that. 

Happiness? Hm, none. You’re barely smiling. You’ve no family, little friends, and no partner for the last few years. There’s nothing to be happy about.

Anger? The displays of people fined harshly for their crimes on the big as life advertising screens stir some defiance in you. WAKE12 doesn’t take kindly to hacktivists and young coders dabbling in creating their own AIs. You have your own anti-government opinions, but what’s a human mind against an artificial one? Plus, and probably a less serious reason (tell that to the thousands who flock to the hospitals because of asthma), the air is almost always polluted here in the Rogue. It’s dirtied by car smoke and factory remains. You’d think that robots taking over the labs would improve it. Perhaps they weren’t programmed that way. 

Loneliness?

You look around. See the glitching phantoms of new world technology make the drinks breezily. Watch the light-studded train filled with commuters from the Auster. Kwon Eunbi managed to build an underside track for additional trains to run and still the commuters—young students, old grandparents, not young but not old workers whose jobs belong to WAKE12—wear the same tired look you saw yesterday. All you could hear are buzzes and uncanny valley voices from holograms.

The second chair paired with your table is empty. You’re suddenly lucid to the fact that it’ll always be like this. These nights of drinking and walking in the Auster Rogue will be endless, and just the same, you’ll be endlessly alone.

Sometimes mortality could be so depressing.

So depressing that it makes it all so meaningless.

A man stumbles over to the outside bar, breaking your thoughtless reverie. His clothes are as black as the night you spend but you can see blood on the fabric. The skyscrapers provide enough light for you to see his red face from anxious internal and worrying external blood. The pleading look grips his expression like a malfunctioning robot’s limb. 

He’s looking back as if afraid of what might be there. The rain-soaked road is tread on roughly by his shaking knees as he crawls his way to the bar. “Please, help me!”

“Warning,” comes the voice in your head, and you know the other visitors hear it, too, “a criminal of the state is in your proximity. Proceed with caution.”

WAKE12 always keeps an eye on those who threaten them. They have goons everywhere. The kindly grandfather down the street could be a veteran waiting for the chance of a medal. They have ears everywhere as well. Undercover cops stay in both crowded and clear spaces to identify possible threats. When it all comes down to it, you’re not safe in your own head at all. The implants can detect when you dream up something terrible. That’s how millions lose their reputation. Their jobs. Their families.

Their lives.

He staggers to the counter, crashing glass that shards his palms, and lets out this wail you’d hear from an abused pup. “Please,” he croaks. “Don’t listen to them. I just need somewhere to hide. I did nothing wrong, nothing!”

The implanted voice in your brain says otherwise. Everyone was given one when the Cyber Age came. That’s what makes a tiny difference in seeing who’s human and who’s not: the tiny, diamond scar below their hairline from the operation. Close inspection can’t always be done, however. Nowadays, too many of these robots and holograms pass the Turing test. You can never truly trust someone.

“Offenses include: playing the role of an accomplice in theft of government data, distribution of terrorist propaganda—”

“Get the fuck out!” says the bartender, having burst out from the back. As a longtime visitor, you haven’t seen him this angry, but you know it stems from fear. No one wants to associate with a criminal. No one wants the association to lead to arrest and the arrest lead to god knows what. Hundreds of people go missing after they’re taken under custody. What Kwon does to them, you don’t know. “Leave or I’ll call the cops!”

Like you said, they lurk everywhere. You’re surprised they haven’t caught up to him.

The bloodied man shakes his head, like please, please, someone believe me. “No, I’m not a criminal! Listen to me, please, I don’t have enough time! They just wanna—cut down” 

Rapid footsteps. Sigh and put your glass down. There they are.

The man reaches for him, but the bartender shoves the whole table into his face. He falls back on the ground and cries out for help that never comes. Men and women wearing tight black uniforms and vests pull him up. Their lit helmets that opposingly disallow a view of their faces make them look emotionless. Like robots.

Huh.

While resting your head against the metal chair, you listen to the struggling shuffles of the police and criminal, and see the glitching robots walking down the road. No real emotion, no real living.

He scratches and screams and sobs, but that doesn’t matter to them. They pull him along the rocky cement and recite his nonexistent rights to him. There’s the right to remain silent (he’s screaming), the right to an attorney (nobody in the Auster can afford a good lawyer much less an honest one), and the right to live freely if found innocent of the crime (someone getting convicted happens more often than being released).

Besides, it can’t be called living when it’s in a place so completely devoid of any humanity.

“In more ways than one,” you say. Fuck it, you’ll drink to that.

-

Like always, you take more than you should. You believe by now you’ve built some kind of immunity. That’s what they all think, you remind yourself, before an inevitable death that buries them in the ground one bricked shot at a time. You swear you’re not dizzy at all or feeling the acid build to your throat, so the sight gathering just a little away from you is real. 

Stare at your glass. Space out if not for what you see: behind it, a shapely form of a woman in purple. The blue and violet lights make it difficult for you to distinguish it from her clothes so she actually looks naked. That shocks you more than the arrest. You’re sure she’s got a little modesty in her because why else is she making her way to a table?

Your table?

It’s like she teleported when she’s suddenly seated before you, filling the chair that’s been empty for the last more or so years. You don’t even get the chance to look up at the right time, but the moment you do, you think keeping your eyes on your glass would’ve been better for the sake of your heart.

YENA.

Her name appears in your mind and she hasn’t even introduced herself. But it’s right there, emblazoned in lights in all capitalized four letters: YENA. This girl is Yena. And this girl—this fucking guilty pleasure of a girl—is gorgeous.

The ends of her hair are tinged with blonde, and it’s hard not to give attention to that with how her locks are gathered into twin tails. She smoothes them before looking at you quite seriously, like she’s about to propose a challenge you’d lose.

Blue shining eyes. There’s something odd about the way they twinkle below her bangs—almost like something not human. 

Yena dances her fingers around her jawline, elbow resting on the table, and tilts her pretty face. Lets her fingers play with her lips that are made for things the Auster’s known for providing (she can’t be from here though; those crocheted coordinates look costly). That’s how you notice that fine feature. Naturally thick and casually jutted out in a distinctive pout, your eyes are glued to them. Can’t take your prolonged stare away if someone helped you. 

“Are you waiting for me to start talking?” Yena asks. She’s not angry, just amused—her voice is smooth and clear, with a tiny pitch that makes her all the more cute. 

You shake your head. “Was just trying to figure something out.” 

“And that is?”

“A lot of things,” you state. Things you’d keep a secret forever, lest you spill them out to a girl all for the payment of being beautiful. “But I’m not sure pretty girls like you would want to know.”

You try to keep your curious peering at her normal, but it’s difficult when she just attracts attention. She’s a glowing lightbulb in a flutter of moths. Yena doesn’t flicker weakly; she shines, and it’s honestly why everyone else is “subtly” looking at her, this gorgeous stranger who came in and somehow chose the alcoholic who came from places more rock bottom than the Auster.

She laughs. It’s sobering—you think you’ll get drunk on her rather than the cheap alcohol. “Is that what you think of me? Too beautiful to think too much?” 

Look her up and down. Yeah, you want to say, that’s about it. It’s not out of offense but rather the instinct in you that wants to tell her you don’t want to put her in a worried state. She’s too… ah, she doesn’t know what you’d do for a girl like her—someone too unreal to be human but too genuine to be the “living” dolls lonely men purchase. Someone who can keep a conversation going without fearing a low blow. Someone who’s out of your league in the Rogue’s mixed pool but chooses you anyway.

“I’m just saying you might not want to hear a stranger boring you with his hard problems.”

“Oh please,” she says, waving it off with a flick of a pointed wrist. “You know my name. I know yours. We’re not strangers anymore.”

How did you—how did she—

Her eyes twinkle again. They’re… violet? You could have bet they were blue. But then you see the suspiciously smooth and clear skin, with the perfect lines of her eyelids, which curve as if manufactured in. She’s definitely not human. 

“Besides,” adds Yena sweetly, “you’re really underestimating how good I can take certain hard things.”

Swallow. You opened the door, now you’re locked in. 

Yena catches the bob of your Adam’s apple and smirks. Traces her fingers over yours. She can’t be human for sure yet you feel the softness of her hand, the only thing giving you doubt being how chilled her touch is. It's humid here, so where did that come from? Goosebumps pop up in masses across your skin—note how nothing shows up on hers.

Maybe she’s just a confident woman.

“Come on, I dare you.” 

“Only if you go first.” 

“Yes, sir,” she says. A cutesy saluted hand positions itself before her temple. Her hands are tiny, could be dainty, while her cheeks lift to support an adorable smile. 

Your knees tremble. You don’t know where that came from either. Yena just knows what to say to get to a guy. Almost like she was made for it. There’s that question again, resurfacing in your altered brain: is she human or not?

You lean back. Cross your arms. Here you go, on your way to find out. “What’s your story?” 

Yena shrugs, her shoulders bare and smooth. And you’re thinking of how you’d like to see the rest of them, the rest of her body naked by pulling down the crocheted strap of the purple coordinates. How you’d like to touch those puffed up cheeks and not care if they’re real or not when you pull her close to kiss her. How those lips—

“Don’t have one.”

“Sorry?”

She laughs. Even the way she giggles is attractive.  “No, seriously,” she replies, licking her lips. “There’s nothing interesting about me. I’m the most normal girl there is.”

There is nothing normal about her. Everything she says is too prepared. The largeness of her eyes gives everything away. Her hair is combed too finely that you’re not unconvinced that it isn't human hair at all, though you can see them connect at the roots. It’s like someone drew a cute animated girl on a notepad one lonely night, sent the idea to a rich bastard, and brought her to life.

So no, you’re not buying it.

“So you’re saying you’re just a blank canvas.”

“If you put it like that, I guess.” Yena rolls her eyes. You’re a bit obsessed. “Guys want that, right? A blank piece of a girl they could shoot more than a shot at? Maybe paint her white?”

You’re thankful you didn’t continue drinking. Otherwise, your surprise would be visible and audible with the lodge of your throat as you wineboard yourself.

The side of her mouth raises. A soft dimple exceeding cuteness—it’s deeper, brighter, shinier. You imagine her as a college student, charming boys into submission just with a wink and a smile that can melt hearts and bring guilt to lust-addled minds. 

That’s what she’s doing: Yena is melting you because of how adorable she is, but then you take a look at her body, note the fine curves it boasts, and feel the need to go to a confessional pastor. You’re not supposed to repeats in your mind, but you’re you—if you aren’t supposed to do it, then of course you’ll do it anyway.

“Woah,” you say with a nervous laugh. “Woah.”

“Look.” She rests her forearm on the table and talks so casually one would think she weren’t just talking about getting cumshots. “I‘m not taking that back, so do with that what you will.”

Under the table, behind the scenes, her leg is curled around one of yours. Her ankle glides along your skin teasingly. Not a speck of hair on all of those flawless legs, but you’re shivering anyway from the contact. Hence, make a show of closing your coat around yourself. You can’t fool her when it’s not even chilly.

Recover, piecing together the brokenness of your confidence she tore apart.

“My story is, uh, weird.”

“Tell me.”

“This might be too personal but—” You lift your shoulders awkwardly. “I used to date a girl who looks exactly like you.”

Kim Chaewon—short auburn hair, soft cheeks, and a tiny figure. She’s a memory you didn’t think of returning to today, but then Yena came here, and now you’re back to your youth.

“She was a cop. Cutest officer I’ve ever seen, but a real bitch, for the lack of a better word. Then she left me.”

“You broke her heart, didn’t you?” 

Sputter. “No!” you immediately deny, shaking your head. “I—I didn’t hurt her, she was—”

A filthy lie. You became nonchalant, undeserving of a sweet woman who’d do anything for you, even give up her well-paying job. Again and again, Chaewon expressed her concerns: why were you talking to Minju? Where have you been? Why are you so mean? You disregarded them all the same. She deserved the ignorance; she was too fucking controlling, too fucking jealous.

Yena knows you’re lying. It’s like you’re a wound she can peel back to see all the ugliness, all the damage underneath. Her smile tells you everything.

“Oh, come on. I don’t care. Except for this.” Yena intertwines her fingers. Rests her chin on top of the formed platform. “Was she a good fuck?”

Your laugh is forced, trying to make a good deal out of this situation. A girl is flirting with you right after you saw someone disappear. Now you’re wondering if she’s a robot. Now, through some way, she knows you’re lying about your ex. Coincidences meet yet you refuse to connect them—parallel lines they shall stay, forever. 

“Yena, what exactly is up with you?” you ask. “You just met me. And come on now, why me?”

It’s begun to be hotter in this space. Loosen your coat. Perspiration isn’t because of the atmosphere, so you find out (and what a surprise). It’s because of the woman across you, a midnight sun. If the painful sun was actually a symbol of good in the Rogue, Yena would play its role perfectly. She’d scorch through you and you’ll enjoy every second. Yeah, you’d get all sorts of tans and burns and cancers if you bask in her without protection, but my god, are you willing to take the risk.

“I just don’t like seeing pretty boys have problems,” she replies easily. “If they want, (and I know they do), I’ll take them all away. Soon, all you'll think of is me. Like I’m the sun peeking in your room and you just can’t get enough sleep because of it.”

You tense up. Millions of questions, a void empty of answers. Once again, how was she so spot on? You’re not breathing quite well, and your clothes are tighter tonight. “Yena, look, I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Don’t be, not because you aren't, but because she said so.

She pouts. “You’re not gonna buy me a drink?”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Nope. Remember what I said? I’m a blank canvas. So do whatever you want with me. Buy me a drink. Or not. Tell me to fuck off. Or not. Force me on my knees.”

Yena kneels.

There’s no mantle on the table to cover up what she’s about to do. You gasp, then try to mask it as a poor cough, but you’re distracted by how she pulls your pants down effortlessly. The button sealing your coat is busted open and gone.

So is your dignity.

Yena’s tongue sticks out at the side of her mouth as she looks up at you with excitement and mischief in her eyes. 

“Or let me do the job. I’m a big girl after all.”

She seals her teeth around your zipper and tugs down. It’s embarrassing how hard you are for her. But Yena doesn’t care. Adoration is clear on her face as she stares at your shaft, the worshipful energy in her eyes so overwhelming that she has to do something about it.

“Yena—” What a way to go out: screaming a stranger’s name.

You knew those lips were up to no good the moment you saw them. She’s provided evidence, too. Her soft lips embrace your boner and suckle fervently while dragging themselves upwards. It’s a caress that tenses you up rather than comforts you. It works you up, tying you down with the little weight Yena has. You could kick her away right now and tell her to go away. File a case against her. 

You don’t.

The joined duo of careful teeth and wild tongue gets you whimpering. Shivering. Begging. How is she so good at this?

Her mouth is perfectly wet. It’s not copiously soaked to have you cringing but the perfect balance of wet and ready, coating your rod again and again. She gives you too much and just right. It would be a cruel violation if you were asked to choose one and only one.

“Baby, what the fuck—” you stammer. 

Her throat’s an expert in taking you because one push of her lips to your base welcomes you in its tight hole. Your knees shake; Yena places her hands on it, not to stop their trembles but for leverage during the dip of her head. 

Close your eyes, look up, and stare at skies that provide no reprieving stars. Think of how she’s infinitely bett—

“Better than any pussy, huh?” Yena asks. The third time is no coincidence, so you’ve heard. “And it’s just my throat.”

At this stage, you don’t care if she’s a robot or not, because either way, that mouth is a fucking treasure.

You lift your hips and start slowly working yourself in Yena’s face. Her lips pucker and pout to allow you inside with pleasurable friction. Those eyes—there aren’t any planets in the sky because of the pollution but you think you can see their sparkle in them. 

The amazing part is that Yena doesn’t choke. She endlessly takes you in, receiving every inch like a blessed gift, but you don’t hear her wheeze. No sounds of complaints escape her. You have a feeling it’s not because of your cock sliding in and out of it. She only gags on occasion, and those already sound fake. It’s like she’s doing it just so you can get worked up hearing her moans.

While others might be impressed, you’re dumbfounded. She tightens and loosens and pushes and pulls just for your pleasure. 

“Yena, I– you’re doing so good,” you compliment her in gasped breaths.

Her cheeks hollow. The suction strengthens and it now feels like your soul’s being swallowed down her neck. She knows how to tease you with light pandering from her teeth, generous licking, and strengthened swallowing. Her mouth is warm but you are more so. She’s making you feel hot in all these layers, an additional one played by her perfect lips.

Perfect hair, too, you note.

Hungry impulses take over your body and now you’re pumping your core into the girl’s face with the help of her pigtails. Yena’s hair is thick and silky, and it’s another enjoyable factor: feeling how it slips between your fingers and how each pull directs her lips to press firmly to your crotch.

She doesn’t gag with that either. She must have had a lot of experience; she did say she can take hard things fine. That is, if she were human. If not, whoever built her had dirty ideas: the lack of gag reflex surely brings in the five star ratings.

Bright star-like eyes, cute ruinable face, mouth that can take the largest.

Yep, perfect.

“Good—fucking—girl.”

Your cock weeps white. Yena feels the first drop and immediately pulls away. She pumps your shaft with a strong, urgent fist. As she hinted, you blast all over her face. Your orgasm grips you and shakes you like never before, and of course, the little brat enjoys it. She’s nearly laughing.

“There,” says Yena after she drains you. Her duck-like lips are sticky with cum. “Canvas painted.”

What a pretty painting you’ve made. Here, shown to the public, is the manic pixie dream girl, semen on her chin to symbolize how each word she utters has you climaxing; hair disheveled to show your subtle but messy rule over her, because you own her although you weren’t there when her mechanical limbs were assembled and her face drawn; and a smile on her face to show that despite all this: she likes it.

You laugh, short blunt breaths wisping in the air. “There really is something wrong with you, Yena,” you say.

She’s a girl who’s extremely pretty, good at blowjobs, and likes public sex and oral. She can also read minds. Oh, and she might not be real. 

“You could say that again.” She wipes her mouth. “Though I do think I could use a little fixing from you.”

-

You take her home. Your mother would have been disappointed in you if she knew you violated the first law you were ever taught: don’t talk to strangers. Most of all, don’t ever let them in. But Yena is no stranger—like she said, she knows your name and for some reason, you know her own. You’re not strangers. And your mother isn’t around to command you not to kneel for a pretty girl.

This home of yours isn’t fancy, but if people from 2024 saw it, they’d be mesmerized. You’re not rich enough to afford the penthouses the North offers; this one is alright for you. The stories of the building aren’t aligned with each other, separating a few yards with floating floors that defy gravity. That’s right; WAKE12 somehow found a way to disobey the rules of physics. The ends are lit up with bright lights that blind you from miles away. Wide windows encircle the areas along with al frescos and convenient malls. Back then, this would have been classified as the house of the wealthy—you can’t say you agree with the sentiment when you’re not at all rich.

“Hi,” says Yena brightly at the front desk. She’s so smiley, always grinning like she’s just told a really clever joke. “Where’s the elevator?”

“I, uh…” 

The manager looks at her oddly. Your ears redden; she still hasn’t cleaned her face up. Evidence of your deed lies there on her nose and chin and cheeks, even in her perfect hair. 

“Well?”

The manager lifts the phone immediately. Before he could dial a number, Yena sighs loudly. 

“Look.” She silences the telephone with a slam of the device down on the keypad. The man’s hand cringes. “I’m about to fuck this guy’s brains out and I promise your little backup bosses can’t do anything about it.”

He stares at her. 

“I’m gonna use his dick until it’s limp as a balloon, then ride him in bed, then bend over on the kitchen table so he could breed me like a common whore.”

You lift an index finger to apologize, but put it back down. Did she just say you can breed her?

His jaw tenses. The teeth behind those unsmiling thin lips grit, not in annoyance but in fear. Yena’s bouncy and sweet, but apparently she’s excluding people who cockblock from her cute attitude.

“So,” finishes Yena, lowering her gaze, “where is the fucking elevator?”

The elevator has no pulley or doors. It sits at the side of the uneven floors and rises with nothing but a sizable pod. You’ve had to watch your weight to be able to enjoy the freedom from staircases. 

Yena steps on it with no worry. As you look at her, you realize how positively tiny she is. That’s why she isn’t doubtful about fitting in the claustrophobic space. Her violet clothes can slip off at any time at her pull of a waist and slim thighs. All the fullness goes to her cheeks, painted with fake tattooed stars and minimal doodles. 

She’s the kind of girl you could just pick up and do whatever to. You’re the kind of guy who really, really likes the idea.

Holding your hand is a thing of the past. Yena clutches your cock over your jeans as the elevator lifts the two of you up. 

The first thing she does the moment you enter your home is not kiss you, or slam you to the door, or whisper dirty nothings in the hollow of your ear. Yena looks around and says, simply, “Doable.”

You chuckle. You’re not offended. It’s a tidy, minimal apartment with glass that spans a viewing pleasure of the artificial forest and the hills. Glass lost its value but skyrocketed in purchases when Jo Yuri, first activist recorded in the history of WAKE12’s domination, was imprisoned. People compared her name to glass (yuri was 유리 and 유리 meant glass) and since then, it has been used everywhere. High demand, low price. Her symbol and namesake is used the way the public wants her to be used: cheap thing convenient only to the eye. They always said she was too pretty to talk too much.

“Here, doable is the best compliment,” you reply. You go to your bedroom to clean the place. If you want to fuck a rich girl, make sure the bedroom is at least up to her standards. “You have personal maids there in the North?”

Yena continues looking around. She’s mildly fascinated by everything, especially in the big window placed on the ceiling that lets stars peer down at you. For some reason, all the ejaculation on her face is gone. You don’t remember her bringing a washcloth.

“I’m not from the North, you know.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. I don’t come from anywhere.”

You come out, having cleared your bed from clothes and the floors of trash. You fed the trash to the connected chute that all apartments have, which leads down to the Southern Auster. The word may be Latin and is already defined as south, but there’s places poorer than the part you live in. You’re lucky to be here. The Southern Auster’s where it’s much more dangerous. The people there scavenge for food and money, and their cries go unheard in the night. It’s the biggest criminal capital of the Rogue.

You come out and Yena’s sitting on the kitchen table with a knife.

Stop in your tracks. 

See the blood running down her arm. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” she says dismissively. “It doesn’t hurt.”

You still don’t know what to say. The wound on her skin’s dissolved to a scar that looks more like a scratch on metal. Why would she do that? Why would that do that?

“In fact, I think it’s kind of cool.” Yena slides the blade on the strap of her top. It falls apart, right down to her braless chest. A pink, perky nipple is clear in the moonlight shining from above. “When people see me, they usually want to hurt me, so I might as well do it myself, right? They want to slap me, pull my hair, choke me. They say that and figure I’m totally flattered.”

You want to say that you couldn’t blame them. Yena’s got this innocent but naughty aura about her that you want to completely ruin. There’s her hair, all dolled up and her quirky makeup that brings attention that eventually switches down to the body she doesn’t bother hiding. 

But it looks like she’s doing the ruining. Aren’t those the best stories? Boy corrupts girl when it’s the other way around in reality? 

To use the word “reality” when you’re with Yena is laughable. She can read your mind like a Rogue Times newspaper. You get that things you thought were impossible have a chance of happening in these days, but you don’t remember wounds healing that fast. The knife slices right through the fabric, revealing swoon-worthy curves of her waist and hips, making her bleed only not for too long. Who would want a scar-ridden skinny girl anyway?

“Well,” you say after a dutiful swallow, “are you?”

Yena examines the knife. Her crimson blood dripping from its edge is a worthwhile watch while she considers this. 

She finally puts down the knife, much to your relief. “I don’t know. What about you, handsome? Do you want to hurt me or fuck me?”

“I… I’m not like them. I don’t wanna hit you or make you cry or anything. I want to fuck you, that’s completely different.”

First confession of the night that didn’t need saying when it’s clear. You let her blow you in public. You took her home. The intention is staring you in the face: you want to have sex with a girl you just met. 

Yena smiles. “You’d be surprised how blurred the lines are.”

Yena‘s hands fall on your shoulders and make you  fall to the kitchen chair and make your pants fall on the floor. Falling, falling, falling for her—it’s all you’re able to do provided that she’s stunning. She’s tiny with her thin arms and legs but her breasts are surprisingly supple. The cleavage her top subtly shows off hinted to that and you’re still shocked.

She’s a hot desert, and the only source you can drink of is her core. Her pussy is slick, making her thighs glue together only for them to part as she sits on your lap. 

The first grind has you both breathless. The second renders a duet of moans. She’s so wet that it’s excessive enough for her to drip down your cock and completely cover it with her. Yena’s pussy lips splay and clasp your shaft with slippery friction.

She curses. “You’re so hard. Big, t-too.” She aims your cockhead at her clit and sighs at the toe-curling pleasure. “You think you can fit in me?”

“I guess we’ll have to see.”

Yena smirks. She continues soaking you with her wetness. Her juices pour from your head to your balls. Then, without warning, she sheathes your rod inside her. 

You gasp. It’s so easy to slip yourself in and all too difficult to cope with how tight she is. Her walls, perfectly textured and sloppy, trap you and let you out, giving you false hope of escaping, only to imprison you again. It’s the best punishment you ever had. 

Her throat was already better than the other cunts you’ve spent yourself in, so what does that make her pussy?

The best. Her overflowing waterfall lets her ride you easily. It seems like there’s a million spots inside her you can target for she quivers and cries with each bounce. Her hair flows photogenically while her chest does the same erotic motion. 

“So fucking good, fuck,” Yena groans. Her round butt lands on your lap and you think you’d like it to stay there forever. Curl your hands around her cheeks. Draw a healthy moan from the throat you used.

Yena’s pussy curves and opens in every best way. She makes it so easy to mold her into the shape of your cock, to rearrange her insides. Was she made for dick? She’s so wet that you’d think she’s a nymphomaniac who won’t let you go, the same way her vagina won’t let you go as its grip curls around you and threatens to milk you to your wits’ end.

You wouldn’t mind that.

Her riding accelerates to an unbearable point the moment you start to spank her. She’s right about hurting and having sex being almost the same—you want to leave red handprints all over her jiggling ass. You want to pull her hair until she screams. You want to fuck this perfect cunt of hers right up to when she’s creaming all over you, flooding your sexes with her naturla nectar.

And the crazy thing is: she’ll actually let you.

“Fucking brat,” you say, hitting her butt again. She yelps coquettishly. “Are you really this thirsty for cock?”

“God, yes…” Her head throws back. Yena’s eyes shut and although her vision is blocked she sees stars. “Wanted to know how your dick would split me open. Fuck, keep doing that!”

Her core tightens with each blow you expel on her bouncing ass. Her hole’s already so enclosed so when she squeezes more, it’s close to having your cock tortured. You’re suffocating inside her.  You’re waterboarded again and again with her waterfall of wetness. 

You guide Yena’s motions with your hands on her behind. She’s so light that you’re practically using her as a doll, fucking her on your erection and letting yourself enjoy how her tits recoil. Her moans turn on a part of your brain that you don’t know, but it transmits to you these thoughts: fuck her senseless.

You raise her as high as you can, her weight nothing even to your long-untrained muscles, then slam her down. She sinks deeper into your lap and takes longer inches. Yena’s screams bounce off the soundproof walls that ensure only you can hear them. Those walls were fucking expensive, so of course you gotta let them have purpose. Slap Yena’s thighs down on yours and let her pussy envelop you right up to the point of bruises appearing on your skin.

How does she not sweat? Your hands wander all over her tight body and still you don’t find a drop of sweat. Her pigtails are still secured. You guess she was just made to be eternally pretty. 

She is pretty, under any circumstance—her smooth skin possesses zero blemishes and her winged eyes remain lamp-bright. She’s pretty, even when she lets out the pitchiest sounds, even when Yena’s lips rise into a devilish smile before sealing on your neck. She nibbles on your skin and rakes up your sensitivity. 

“Holy shit, Yena…”

“Yeah, that’s right.” She licks behind your ear and you nearly lose it. Maybe you already did. “Say my name. Because I’m all yours. This pussy is yours to use and abuse, so do it.”

Rub her tiny pulsing clit. Yena’s cries deafen you. If that’s not enough, she drowns you with her cum. There’s no raft to save you. You’re all alone. You’ll drown here and never see the light of day again.

Electricity runs through her body as the pleasure ramps up. Her fingers weaken on your shoulders. Her gasps are split off by larger, more surprised evolutions. Yena’s close.

“Fuck, no, I can’t!” Yena’s riding is furious and borderline abusive. The noises between your two crotches are louder than before. 

“You can,” you insist. You throb inside her while her pussy becomes smaller despite the many thrusts you perform. “Take it like a good girl, Yena.”

“Fuck me, use me, I’m just your cute little helpless girl, fuck me!”

She couldn’t be more correct. She’s just a useless doll, thin and adorable and tight—so why not use her like one?

You’re surprised your limbs have any power in them, but they impress as you lift Yena up. During your walk to the counter, you don’t stop thrusting in her. She’s wet and ready, just waiting and begging for it to happen. Her pretty face is smudged with tears. There’s sick satisfaction in you from seeing how the confident girl at the bar is now just a fuckhole to use. 

“Oh, oh, ah!” Cute little whines come out from those lips. Her mouth used its power to pick you up, make you cum, make you scared. In this second, all that is gone: she’ll only ever use it to wail in pleasure.

Knock her against the kitchen counter. Her thighs press to the curve. You spread them open and continue spending yourself to death in her. Her sides that slant to make the physique you love are perfect handles to thrust. 

You’re completely soaked, but she’s completely defiled. The dream girl is not just any dream but a wet dream. She’s the fantasy you never had but will constantly think of now. And you don’t care if WAKE12 knows you’re fucking her. They can read all the thoughts you have about Yena as much as they like, and you wouldn’t care.

Instead of giving a fuck, you twist her around, her smooth back in front of you, and fuck her harder while you’re at it. Admire the way your hips slap her ass and give her the spanking she deserves. One spank, that’s for being so tempting. Another for the price of her promiscuity. Three one-after-the-other’s because she’s too wild, too free for a girl with that face.

“God, please, harder!” Yena cries. “Make me your little cocksleeve cumslut!”

She does not take pain to heart, physically and mentally. In spite of your rapid pumps and the slap of your stomach to her bent and ready ass, no bruises or scratches appear on her skin. You say all these degrading words and rather than mope about it, she gets more turned on. She forces you to give all your might in railing her in this apartment where the open windows give you away rather than the sounds. And you’re nodding along, saying:

“Of course.”

Of course you’ll grab her tits and pinch their nipples as hard as you can. Yena’s skin might not be humanly warm but these boobs are real. They’re soft in your palms and plentiful. Is she a masochist? You tweak and slap and squeeze; in response, she’s… smiling?

Of course you’ll slip your touch all over her body. Appreciate every perfect curve, every fine fullness. After fondling her tits, you slide your hands over her smooth pits, then to her arms that struggle to remain stable. She’s sensitive all over; it’s evident in the way she babbles each time you caress her. 

Of course you’ll take her hair and pull as hard as you can. She won’t get mad. Nothing ever gets to the cool girl.

“Oh my god!” Yena shouts. 

Those pigtails are there for a reason. Thrusts become easier to do with her hair curled in between your digits. Her ass meets your crotch easily and you find yourself excavating her cavern, hitting her in all the good places. Yena hums and screeches and sobs. 

“Bad girl.” Her hair plays the role of your reins. They’re convenient in spreading Yena apart with your shaft, tearing at her tightness. “You’re nothing but a filthy cocksucking slut.”

“M-mhm, yes, just for you, just for this perfect dick, ahh! I’m cumming!” 

Yena’s core flexes and contracts. It holds you like it never wants you to go but you let go anyway. You can do nothing besides that especially if it’s her, someone who’s so cute but so seductive, so challenging but submissive. Each part of her—those blowjob lips, her blooming face, her cockiness—makes you wish this could never end.

The first sign of the end of this pornographic one-reeler is your semen raining inside her, setting a storm in her guts. You pant, legs weak, while Yena’s seem to go on forever although she’s smaller than you.

The second sign is the mess she made. Those aforementioned desirable legs are painted by obscenity. She squirted all over your floor and herself. Your cum coats her vulva plus spills down freely.

Yena looking back at you with a tired smile is the last one, along with her asking, through shattered breaths, “Better than your whore ex?”

Because that’s the thing about girls like Yena. They’ll do everything to please you. Perhaps she’s a good dresser, but really, this is your style, not hers. This type of fashion is what you like on women: modestly revealing. Girls like Yena will give you everything, make you discover yourself, and when all this happens, she’ll remain the thoughtless, forgiving girl. She won’t complain about things that will set you off and say coy, clever things, the kind men like to hear.

All just to be better.

She is.

“Yeah.”

Yena chuckles. For a moment, she looks like the sweetest girl in the world. The happiness overtakes her face and makes her smile reach her ears. 

It disappears as fast as it arrived.

“Wrong fucking answer.”

Alarm sounds of every kind—natural disaster, fire, robbery, whistles—blare in your head. You can’t hear anything except the thin screeches of emergency. But for what?

Yena loses her brightness. Everything that made her shine shuts down. She smiles, that same one full of mischief, before she breaks, too. Her eyes turn pitch black, the ones you see in crows, the sign of bad luck. She disassembles part by part before you. The light girl is suddenly so heavy that she forces you down. Suddenly, her torso above yours feels colder than before. 

What the fuck? 

Escape is your first instinct. You push the remains of the girl away. Your feet kick the broken parts as if you’d break, too. You brush past the fringe of her bangs. Below it, no diamond scar rests on her forehead.

Stare down at her. Yena truly is not real. Your manic robotic dream girl is dead. She was never alive. 

“You have been found guilty,” says the implant. You used to hear it when WAKE12 arrested people and now it talks to arrest you. The alarms are loud but you understand every fragment. 

The implant’s emotionless voice now sounds a lot like—

“Chaewon?” 

Bad luck comes just like the consequences of the law, personified by stilettos clicking on your floor, a shadow in the moonlight, and the face of the woman you swear you never wanted to see again.

And yet here she is.

Chaewon looks so much like Yena. Yena looks so much like Chaewon. Their chins, their eyes, their bangs—who is who? Their faces mingle and mix in your vision. You think you’re going crazy.

She puts away a remote control and places her hands on her hips. Her black bodysuit is all you see as she approaches. Her smiling lips don’t utter a word. You hear her voice, all in your head.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything and everything you do shall be punished by WAKE12 accordingly. This is the price you pay for your crime.”

There’s a gun in front of you. It’s aimed at your chest, determined to crush what keeps it beating. Raise your hands, but not in surrender. You’ll die before you try to be Chaewon’s toy again.

“What crime? Being your ex-boyfriend?” you spit. This has got to be a joke. “Chaewon, I said, what crime?”

She can’t abuse her authority. She couldn’t have done all that just to get back at you. And for what? Being a bad boyfriend when you were younger and dumber?

You hear her speak. That striking smile looks more terrifying than beautiful. It dissolves into darkness to pronounce your wrongdoing. 

“For the crime of fucking existing,” she snarls.

You hate Chaewon. You swore you never did yet now you do wholeheartedly. You tried to love her and reciprocate her efforts. She’s a busy woman so she should have understood you had other commitments.

This is the last time you ever want to hear from her. 

A bullet you don’t see coming. It soars in the wind and finds its home sweet home in your skull.

She’s the last thing you ever heard.

[bluemari23]

soul glow | choi seungcheol

summary: you attended your first concert, waiting a long time to see your ult group perform. unable to recognize a soul bond taking place, you leave early, leaving seungcheol to scramble to find you.

pairing: choi seungcheol x neurodivergent reader

genre: soulmates, soul bonds, idol au, angst

warnings: a cinderella moment indeed, mentions of overstimulation,

word count: 1.4k

masterlist

an: couldn't help myself. I had a dream of this and needed to write it out.

--------------------------------------------------------

The concert was your first, and you wouldn’t question if it was also to be your last. You were overwhelmed to say the least. You could practically feel your skin crawl as the colored lights flashed throughout the stadium. 

You had come with your best friend, wanting to see your ult group, Seventeen, while they were finally visiting a city even remotely close to you. You had both waited a long time for them to come, often writing your own prayers on social media with the hopes someone in management would see. 

And now, you’re not sure how you feel. 

“If you’re not feeling it, we can always leave early.” You friend yelled out to you over the music. You were in the front row of the bottom section, right behind the floor seats. You were to the side of the stage, but still had an amazing view of the boys as they performed. 

You loved your friend, how understanding they were, but you just shook your head. You didn’t pay all this money for you to leave early, and because you were overstimulated. You hated feeling like a burden and you knew how much your friend was also looking forward to the concert. You both had been waiting to experience the right of passage for every carat at a concert, the ten thousand aju nices that would happen at the end. 

To be fair, you might just be overstimulated by the lights surrounding the boys, particularly on your side of the stage. You couldn’t figure it out, given it was a bright golden glow and none of the colored lights going on in the stadium resembled that glow or even just the lights that lit up the stage. 

You tried to make the best of your opportunity and sung along to your favorite song once it played. Shadow held a special place in your heart and you loved the timber of the groups individual voices as they sang, particularly Mingyu and Scoups as they gave their best selves to the performance. 

Once the instrumental for To You began to play, Scoups tried his best to remember the choreo but he couldn’t help but to continue to move towards the left of the stage, something catching his eye as he turned to look at their fans. 

He couldn’t help but to falter in his steps, thankfully no one caught his mistake as he was quick to sing his lines. The bright glow of gold held his attention, more like the woman who the glow centered around. 

He could name numerous different soul bonds, from the Flower Halo to the more common Soul Mark, but never did he think he would be blessed with a Soul Glow as his bond. And never did he think he would find his soulmate during one of their concerts, where he can’t immediately move to greet his soulmate, bringing them into his embrace and holding them tight. 

He had even more vigor as he continued on with the concert, knowing that his soulmate was watching him and his brothers perform. Something that everyone seemed to notice, especially his band members. 

During one of the outfit changes, Joshua has come up to him and asked him if he was okay, and he couldn’t hold back. 

“My soulbond activated. She’s here, Shua.” He admitted, causing Joshua’s eyes to widen in shock, and for the excited shouts of his other members who had not so subtly been eavesdropping on their elder members. 

They all quickly dressed in their next set of clothes, and right before they had to go back on stage, Seungcheol has pointed you out to his fellow members and manager, who had been tasked to get a message across to his soulmate before the end of the concert, wanting to meet his soul glow. 

Despite trying their best, his members kept moving to the left of the stage, trying to get a good look at who would be their new best friend by the end of the night. Yeah, they would give you and their leader your space, but they were determined to be your friends, seeing as you would be stuck with their leader forever. 

This was something the crowd noticed as well, those on the floor moving to the left trying to get the boy’s attention and whatever way they could. It only happened for a couple of songs, but then the boys moved back to giving equal time to all sides of the stage. 

It was weird, and something you and your friend both acknowledged. 

“I wonder what happened?” You friend questioned aloud, causing you to hum your agreement. 

“Maybe something caught their eye?” Was your own reply, thinking that to be the most likely answer. 

Either way, the concert continued but not without difficulties. Mainly for you. 

You had tried your hardest, but despite that, you couldn’t help but to feel as though you had overdone your tolerance, the biting pain of your nails digging into your palm a sad reminder.

Loud noises had always been a problem for you; the pain in your head and the itching under your skin that had your scratching marks into your arm was always a reminder. You don’t know why, but too much stimulation always caused somewhat of a shutdown for you, where you couldn’t speak and your mind didn’t seem to want to focus on anything in particular. 

By the time the third Aju Nice had rolled around, you were past your limit and you friend could tell. 

“Hey, you know what, it’s okay. I can see why so many people get tired after the first round. My feet are aching and my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.” Your dear friend helped you out of the aisle and towards the stairs that would lead out to the lobby of the stadium. 

You tried to protest, but even those were weak as you followed behind your best friend. You were incredibly thankful for them and knew you would need to make up for leaving the concert early, even if they are adamant about leaving.

Vernon was the first to notice you leaving, following behind the woman who had been sitting to your right. He tried his best to signal to Seungcheol, but only managed to at the end of the third Aju Nice encore. 

“She’s leaving, Cheol.” Vernon tried to be discrete, which thankfully he managed. His words caught the attention of the others, who had all huddled together near one corner of the stage, watching a couple of their fans in costume dance. They all watched the two women make their way to the stairs and out of the main stadium area.

Cheol panicked, sitting down at the edge of the stage and gesturing for his manager, making him aware of the dilemma. He could only watch as his manager had grabbed some of their security with him and started backstage, trying to catch up to you. 

His heart was racing as he tried his best to focus and make sure the concert ended like every other one, doing his best for his fans. It was like he could feel you getting further away from him, could feel the distance festering in his soul. 

As he sang the last encore, he had come up with a number of ideas, ways to track you down if you did manage to get away from him tonight. 

Once the last note played and they started to leave the stage, Seungcheol walked until he was out of sight of his fans, the proceeded to run to his dressing room, where hopefully you would be waiting with his manager. 

Disappointment and defeat coated his veins as he opened the door, the emptiness in his soul prominent as the room was empty from what he could only imagine would be your inevitable warmth. 

“I’m sorry, Seungcheol, they were driving out of the parking lot by the time we managed to get into the lot. One of the security team did manage to get their license plate number so we have that written down.” His faithful manager spoke sincerely, not wanting to upset Seungcheol more than he probably already was. 

Everyone was throwing out suggestions, some of the members even going to action as they tried to see if they could access ticket information from the stadium itself. Seungcheol remained quiet though, determination flowing through him as he followed along with Mingyu, calling their company and the stadium head to see what they could do. 

One way or another, he would find his soul glow. 

[targaryenluvs]

hiiii okay so I had an idea for like Coryo x little sister where she’s about 12 years old and she looks just like her mom and Coryo, Tigris, and Grandma’am just love her so much BUT she somehow ends up in the hunger games s a tribute and she becomes like besties with Wovey, Reaper, and Lucy- plus she’s giving Coryo a heart attack every five minutes especially during the bombing- finally during his peacekeeper era when he finds out they were evicted she was taken from their custody and so when he comes back with the plinth fortune and all that she just runs up and is all cuddly with him and he’s like “u know what fuck custody paperwork” and just snatches her back home- thank u sooo much💗

SAFE AND SOUND

pairings: coriolanus snow x younger!sister!reader, lucy gray x younger!sister!reader

summary: somehow you’d ended up in the games, snow and lucy would do anything to keep you safe.

warnings: murderrr, possessive/selfish thoughts, child endangerment, cheating, rude ass corio, fluff in the end nd a little happy fam, deter from og storyline, protective lucy and snow, family dynamics, theyd do anything to make sure you’re okay

a/n: i did change the story line a little!!

the drones were whirring about you.

people were being knocked down as lucy grabbed you and ran to safety. “keep with me baby girl!” she shouted as you ran, your legs ached but you knew what would happen if you stopped.

coriolanus couldn’t breathe until you were safe. which is why he exhaled a long and heavy breath when you and lucy settled into the vent again. everyone around him was quiet for once, they laughed at all the tributes except you. they all loved you, every time coriolanus brought you around their horrible personalities and stuck up selves melted away with your adoring smile and sweet voice.

reprieve, or so you thought, came in the form of the large tube in front of you. but based off of lucy’s face you knew something was up, and as wovey walked towards it you couldn’t help but shout and cry for her.

“down goes wovey!” thank god. coriolanus thought. that idiotic girl was impulsive and silly, she shouldn’t have lasted as long as she did. she almost killed you with her stupidity, brung you along to her execution as you cried for her to stop.

you’d survived. somehow.

in the history of the games there had only been two victors. so far.

but at what cost? your brother had been sentenced away to district 12 and the only other person who shared any understanding for what you went through was no where to be found. in the wind, gone.

so you did what you thought best.

you ran.

all the way to twelve and the comfort of your dear older brother.

he was going insane. he’d lost you and lucy. sejanus was god knows where and probably planning something illegal. he was stressed the fuck out and all he wanted was a hug from you. for you to put secret braids in his hair when you thought he was sleeping, for you to kiss his cheek every morning before rambling on about school.

the place was alive as she sang. everyone danced but coriolanus stared. he’d found one half of the puzzle. lucy looked amazing and he found himself relaxing at the sound of her voice.

you’d peeked through the window. the noise had drawn you to it. it was your first day alone, ever, and in the worst district. you were scared beyond measure but soon to be saved as you caught a glimpse of lucy twirling on stage, her eye-line drawing you to corio.

the hug from behind caught him off guard but had his mind spinning as he recognised the small hands gripping oh so tightly at his waist. the bracelet he’d made so long ago and the smell of roses, which for once wasn’t himself, and hadn’t been for a while.

“y/n.” he breathed out as you laced your arms around his neck, “i came from the capitol. i hate it corio. they took me away from our family and put me with some random family. i don’t like it, i miss you. please, don’t take me back.” you cried as he lifted you up, resting on his hip as he made his way outside, lucy following in tow as she wiped away tears after seeing your sweet face.

the lake was quiet and tame, slow waves lapping at the jetty and land as you lay curled up in corio’s lap, lulled to sleep by lucy’s melodies. and whilst the trio of you all had no idea what the future held it all didn’t matter in this moment. you felt happy, and you hadn’t felt it in so long. corio and lucy were your family, and you loved them.

corio had done horrible things in his life, the second you were drawn into the games nothing else mattered besides keeping you safe. those horrible things were known to few, one of them being the songbird to your left.

and no would ever tell you these things.

all that mattered?

you were safe and sound with them, they’d made sure of it.

[jakeshands]

WIKIHOW: to unlove heeseung lee

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

synopsis: how to unlove heeseung lee. a comprehensive guide written by lily morrow. step #1: tell him, to his face, you don’t love him. step #2 — there’s no step number two. lily got distracted. now its up to you. how does one fall out of love? a story told in two acts

genre: crack, comedy, romantic comedy, fluff, lots of silliness, slight teacher au/new girl au if u squint, lowkey unreliable narrator

featuring: enhypen, lily of nmixx, yunjin of lsfm, jeongin of skz, beomgyu of txt, ningning of aespa, wonyoung of ive

warnings: lots of kys jokes/humor like a lot😭, loads of profanity, loads of sex jokes/mentions of sex, a joke about christian guilt and cathliocism, lmk if i missed any

word count: 12.6k

author’s note: look. i just started writing. sorry. incredibly unedited and dont take this seriously PLEASE😭😭😭😭

Act I: I loved you from the start.

[SCENE: ENGAGEMENT PARTY, 6 PM]

A gentle pink cascades across the sky. You exit the restaurant, the excitement of the engagement party seeping out of you as soon as the door shuts. One of your college friends, Chaeyoung, is finally engaged to her high school sweetheart. You remember receiving the news from Chaeyoung over the phone. She sounded ecstatic, and so were you. 

A gentle breeze blows through the air and it pushes your hair back softly. You swing your black handbag and hum the rhythm of a song you can’t quite remember under your breath. You pass by a convenience store and you double back deciding to enter the store. 

Greeting the worker, you rummage through the selves and find snacks for yourself and your roommates. Home run balls, corn chips, and tiramisu. You pick out a bag of tiny animal-shaped cookies for yourself. After buying the four items, you exit the store and continue your journey back home.

With a heavy exhale, you unlock the door to your apartment and with one hand gripping the doorknob, you begin to undo the straps of your heels, hobbling into the apartment. Loud sounds of sobbing and sniffling fill the apartment, and after finally sliding off your heels, you glance up at the scene in front of you. 

Sitting on the sofa and watching the end of the Titanic were your roommates. A pile of tissues sat in the center of the coffee table, and bowls of discarded ramen lay on the floor. Jay was sobbing loudly into the bright pink pillow you picked out when you first moved in, Sunghoon was blowing his nose over and over, and Jake was hugging his dog, Layla, whom he somehow managed to sneak into the apartment when he first moved in. 

“Y/N!” Cries Jay, noticing you. “You’re back!” 

Sunghoon blows his nose. 

You hold up a small plastic bag. “I come bearing snacks.” 

Jay sobs harder. “You’re the best girl friend we’ve ever had.” 

You smile. “I better be.” You had out the snacks you bought for each boy; home run balls for Jake, tiramisu for Sunghoon, and corn chips for Jay. “Also, didn’t we ban Titanic from our apartment? Last time we watched it, you three didn’t speak to each other for a week.” 

“We did,” Sunghoon agrees easily. 

“...So why are you watching it?”

“Ask Jake,” Sunghoon points at the boy still sobbing into Layla’s fur. 

“I’m fine….he’s obviously going through something.” 

“Rosie!” Jake wails loudly.

“That’s not even her name, Jake,” Jay scowls. 

Jake responds with another loud sob. Rolling your eyes, you open up the bag of your animal-shaped cookies and walk through the living room to reach the kitchen. You throw your handbag on the counter, and then shriek loudly when you catch sight of another body in the kitchen. 

“Y/N?” Jay calls out, his voice not as shaky as it was before. “Is everything okay?”

You poke your head back into the living room and scowl at the three boys, and one girl  -- Jake insists everyone references Layla as a ‘girl’ and not a ‘dog.’ As you can tell, Layla is the only girl in his life aside from you and Lily Morrow -- sitting on the couch. “Why is he in our kitchen eating our food?” 

“The couple he was rooting for on Love Island got voted off, or something like that, and he needed some Boy Time,” Sunghoon answers.

“And he came here? Instead of slipping into Jeongin’s room and getting stoned?”

“He needed an emotional connection,” Jay says after wiping his snotty nose with your pink cushion. 

“Jeongin is a very emotional guy,” you refute. “He is very in touch with his feelings, unlike the three boys I live with. And the one in the kitchen. I would like one of you to tell him he needs to leave.” 

“Why can’t you?!” Jake wails again. “We’re all emotionally devastated at the moment!” 

Sunghoon and Jay nod, agreeing with Jake’s words. You scowl. “Last time I talked to him I got a rash and a head cold. I can’t get sick.” 

“You work with kids who refuse to cough into their elbows. Of course you were going to get sick,” Jay rolls his eyes. “Just talk to him.” 

“No!” You whine petulantly, resting against the doorframe. “Please. Don’t make me talk to him.” 

“I have a name, you know,” a gentle voice says from behind you, and you shriek, stumbling away from the doorframe and into the back of the couch. The gentle voice laughs loudly, and standing in the doorway to the kitchen, in all his glory, is Heeseung Lee. His silver hair somewhat shines beneath the orange-toned lighting, and his mouth curves up into that stupid heart smile of his. 

“Monster!” You shriek, pointing at Heeseung, who is eating a donut from the box you brought home earlier today. “There’s a monster in my apartment! Jay, quick, get him out!” You punch the apartment’s self-proclaimed black cat in the arm, to which he hisses. No surprises there. He spends too much time around….do you dare say it……Jungwon. 

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “You’re so dramatic, Y/N.” 

“And you need to leave.” 

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you need to buy me another box of those donuts you’re eating.” 

Heeseung looks down at the box he is holding and then looks back at you. He shrugs. “How much was it?”

“Seventeen dollars.” 

Heeseung raises his eyebrows. “You bought a box of donuts for seventeen dollars? Twelve donuts for seventeen dollars?” 

“What’s wrong with that?” You frown. 

Heeseung sighs and finishes the last of the chocolate donut he’s eating before rubbing his now free hand against his forehead. “You give me migraines.” 

“Good,” you respond. “Now get out.” 

Heeseung pouts, “do you not care about me?”

You shake your head. “No, not really.” 

“We’ve spent our whole lives together, and this is how you repay me?”

“Get out or so god help me,” you scowl. “I will choke you out again.” 

“Again?” Sunghoon asks in surprise. 

“Yeah, Y/N choked Heeseung back in middle school,” Jay says as he scrolls through the illegal movie website for another movie to watch. “Ooo, Shape Of Water sounds cool!” 

“A mute girl falls in love with a fish, Jay,” Jake responds. “I didn’t know you were into bestiality.” He then holds Layla closer to him.

“Who’s Chaeyoung engaged to?” Heeseung asks you, picking up another donut with pink icing and white sprinkles. “I got an invite from her, but it clashed with Love Island.” 

“You are not changing the subject on me,” you snap. “And you can find out tomorrow. At school. Now get out of my apartment and stop eating my donuts. Why couldn’t you have gotten stoned with Jeongin? Or played guitar with Beomgyu or -- or visited Jungwon.” You shudder at the thought of the younger boy. 

Heeseung laughs. “You still find Jungwon scary?”

“For many reasons!” You defend. “He thinks he’s a cat, he bit me once, and he threatened to hunt me down and kill me if I ever managed to hurt Jay.” 

“Is that why we never hang out one-on-one?” Jay asks you, now looking up the emoji movie on the illegal website. 

“Yes.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” Sunghoon pipes up, helpful as ever. 

“Yeah,” Heeseung agrees with Sunghoon’s words. “It’s a skill issue. Maybe you need to level up --”

You whack Heeseung with the bright orange pillow Sunghoon picked out when you first moved into the apartment together. “I still don’t understand why all those girls fawn over you. Even now! You’re a fucking middle-school teacher yet girls still stick to your sides like leeches. What do they even see in you?! Do they know you used to pick your nose and wipe it on the nearest body to you, which always happened to be me? Do they know you scratched your balls and then ate all my McDonald’s Chicken Nuggets once?” 

“What does me scratching my balls and eating your chicken nuggets have to do with anything?”

“You didn’t even bother to wash your hands after getting a good scratch!” You exclaim loudly, whacking Heeseung with the pillow again. “Stop eating my fucking donuts!” 

Layla barks loudly and leaps off the couch, running for the bathroom. “She needs to pee,” Jake announces, standing up, “I should go help her. You know, potty training and all that.” 

You groan and hold your head in your hands. “Why did I decide to move in with Incel #1 Incel #2 and Incel #3?” 

“Hey! I am not an incel!” Sunghoon exclaims. “I get laid!” 

“Sure you do,” you respond, not believing a word Sunghoon just said. “Explain to me why Wonyoung said you chickened out last time things got steamy between you two?” 

“Incel means involuntarily celibate. Me choosing to not be intimate with Wonyoung doesn’t count as involuntary because it was a conscious decision.” 

“Umm actually…” Jay mimics in a high-pitched tone and pokes his index finger in the air. “You’ve been dating for like five years dude, there’s no time like the present.”

“Fine,” Sunghoon snaps. “I’ll go over there right now and do the dirty.” Sunghoon snatches up his phone from the coffee table and immediately calls Wonyoung as he walks over to his bedroom. “Wony, hey,” his voice suddenly adopts that adoring tone he uses whenever Wonyoung is around.

“Finally,” Jay mutters, “I’ve had to listen to him complain about his performance fears for years. The world doesn’t understand how hard it is for men -- oh my god I sound like Jake.” 

“....I’m gonna head out now. While I wish I could stay and watch whatever is currently happening, Yunjin just sent me an SNS text.” Heeseung says. 

You turn around to find that, somehow, Heeseung has eaten all twelve of your donuts, and at this point, you don’t even care. You’re too exhausted and confused and just concerned for the three boys you live with to even whine over Heeseung eating the only edible thing in this apartment. “SNS? What does that mean?”

“Sister Needs Sister.” 

“What?”

“SNS means Sister Needs Sister.”

“Sister Needs -- okay whatever I’m not gonna question whatever weird thing you have going on with Yunjin. Just get the fuck out of my apartment.” 

“Yes Ma’am,” Heeseung tips his imaginary cowboy hat at you and finally exits the apartment. Your shoulders slump and you throw yourself over the back of the couch, landing awkwardly on your neck as Jay cackles loudly at something on his phone. 

“I don’t want to go to school tomorrow,” you whine. “I haven’t even finished typing up Friday’s lesson.” 

Jay ignores you, still cackling at something on his phone. Jake shrieks his dog’s name loudly in the bathroom and something falls over in Sunghoon’s room.

++

It’s 6:30 AM when you enter your classroom. You have an hour until students begin to fill the school and while you always tell yourself that today will be the day you actually wake up early enough to get to school at 6:00 AM, it never happens and you’re left with an hour to get everything prepared for the lessons ahead.

Grumbling to yourself about having to let Layla into the bathroom to take a piss -- and then watch the dog miss the toilet bowl completely -- you ignore the box of donuts sitting on your desk. It’s only when you finish recalling how you had to literally drag Jake out of bed to clean up Layla’s mess do you realize there’s a box of twelve donuts on your desk. 

Frowning, you put down your coffee cup and examine the box. It’s from the same bakery your previous donuts were from. A small card sits on top of the box and you open it. 

Sorry

- Heeseung (:

Groaning, you chuck the small apology card aside and open up the box. Instantly, the aroma of freshly baked donuts fills the classroom and your mouth begins to water. You wonder how Heeseung was able to get the donuts freshly baked. The bakery doesn’t even open until seven. 

Pushing that thought aside, you grab a donut and get settled in your chair, beginning to finish the lesson prep you failed to complete last night. 

Thirty minutes quickly pass by. The only distraction you had was your phone buzzing. Sunghoon needed to pee and when he stepped into the bathroom, he found Jake lying, face down, fast asleep. Right next to Layla’s puddle of pee. Sunghoon, being the good friend he is, snapped a photo of Jake and sent it to the group chat before heading back to bed. He didn’t even bother to move Jake back to bed. 

“Enjoying the donuts?”

A voice draws you away from your laptop. Your rapid-fire typing stops and you glance over your shoulder, finding Heeseung standing at the entrance of your classroom. You gift Heeseung a small smile and lean back in your chair. “Thank you for the donuts, Heeseung.” 

“Do you accept my apology?” Heeseung asks as he walks over to your desk. 

“Of course,” you beam. “You know the way to my heart, Heeseung. Want one?” You offer the box to Heeseung but he waves you off. “By the way, how did you get these donuts freshly baked? The bakery doesn’t open until seven.” 

Heeseung winks. “A magician never reveals his secrets.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“Chaeyoung and Seungmin, huh? Who even is Seungmin? I don’t remember Chaeyoung ever dating a Seungmin?” Heeseung drums his fingers on your desk. 

You snort. “Seriously? You don’t remember Seungmin? He was in the year above you. Also in choir with you. Do you seriously not remember him? He thought he was a dog for the longest time so he often barked at people in the hallways.” 

Heeseung’s face lights up. “Oh! Him! I threw his lunch in the toilet one time. Fond memories.” 

“Why would you do that?!” 

Heeseung shrugs. “I was fourteen. We do weird things at fourteen.”

“Bullying is not a weird thing.”

“It was some kind of choir initiation,” Heeseung answers. “I don’t remember it. It’s been like. A decade.” 

“You’re getting old,” you muse, teasing Heeseung. 

“I could say the same about you,” Heeseung mutters, picking up a pen from your pen jar and chucking it at you. It hits your arm and clatters to the floor, loud in the empty classroom. 

“Once a bully, always a bully,” you retort. 

“Whatever.” 

“Don’t you have something better to do?” You ask Heeseung, “like, I don’t know, picking out what songs you’re going to sing in class today?”

“Unlike you, I have respectful friends who know not to bother me when I plan my lessons, so I already have picked out the three songs I plan on teaching the kids today.” 

“Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon are your friends too? I don’t see how that is an insult.” 

“To be fair, I was only able to complete my lesson plan for this week because Jeongin and Beomgyu were following some Zen Yoga YouTube video they found,” Heeseung admits, grimacing slightly. “Seeing both of them in yoga pants…..Never again.” 

“Did you finally realize you have a flat ass compared to theirs?”

Heeseung scowls and deliberately knocks over your mug of pens. “Don’t ever say I have a flat ass again. Jake’s the one with a flat ass.”

“He is not!” You defend your best friend with everything you have while cleaning up the mess Heeseung made. “You come into my classroom, make a mess, and insult my friend? You’re so lucky I don’t have super strength.” 

“You’re lucky I don’t have super super strength.” 

“Really?” You deadpan, glaring at Heeseung. “How childish. One of my students could come up with a better retort than that.” 

Heeseung rolls his eyes and grabs a donut from the box. Usually, you would whine and try to make him put it back, but today you let it slide since Heeseung was the one who bought the donuts for you. You turn back to your laptop to continue finishing up the last slide for today’s lesson as Heeseung chews on the chocolate-covered donut and flicks through the worksheets you printed out. 

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” You mumble. 

“No,” Heeseung responds, finishing off the last of the donut. “Mmm, those donuts are good.” He tries to help himself to another, but you slap his hand away. A scandalized gasp rings out through the room and Heeseung stares at you like you just called his mom a whore. 

“Get out of my classroom, Heeseung. I can only tolerate you for so long.” 

“Rude. I’ll remember this, Y/N,” Heeseung warns, backing out of your classroom as he wiggles his forefinger. “Heeseung Lee never forgets.” 

You snarl in response. 

++

Jake kicks the soccer ball back and forth with Riki. You sit on a bench nearby with Jay and Sunghoon, licking the triple stack of mint chocolate ice cream you coerced Sunghoon into buying for you. It took a lot of effort -- Sunghoon violently puked in the gutter the moment you asked, apparently his allergy to mint chocolate is very real -- but after unwillingly pulling out the cute poses you tucked away after you graduated high school, Sunghoon gave in. Much to Jay’s delight. 

Next to you, Sunghoon’s stomach rumbles loudly. “I’m gonna puke,” Sunghoon mumbles, ditching the remainder of his Tiramisu ice cream on the ground and running for the nearest bushing, retching loudly. Jake kicks the soccer ball at a dog. 

Jay cackles loudly at the misfortune of both his friends -- Sunghoon having an allergic reaction to mint chocolate, and Jake practically crying on his knees as he apologizes to the dog and the dog’s owner over and over. Riki just stands to the side recording Jake. “God, I love going to the park. Don’t you?”

You stare at Jay. “Are you a masochist? Do you feel joy in seeing other people’s misfortunes?” 

Jay tsks, shaking his head. “I’m a sadist, not a masochist. There’s a difference.”

“Well, school me on the difference, Jay.” 

“Masochist; I enjoy hurting or humiliating myself. Sadist; I enjoy hurting or humiliating other people.” 

“I’ll be sure to remember that,” you vow. 

Jay finishes off his cone and rubs his stomach. “Jay’s finished! Jay’s no longer hungry! Jay thinks we should head home now.” 

Sunghoon’s still retching. Jake’s still crying. Riki is now trying to muffle his laughter. You’re halfway through your triple scoop of mint chocolate. And Jay simply does not give a fuck. 

“Oh. Hey guys!” To make matters worse, Heeseung appears, dressed in jogging gear, and next to him is Jungwon. Oh God. Immediately, you start stuffing your face with the ice cream, trying to finish it all so you can high tail it out of this park. Jungwon Yang terrifies the shit out of you. Not only is he a professional Taekwondo athlete, but he’s also part cat. You vividly remember the time Jungwon attacked you -- hissing and claws out. You wake up screaming to that particular memory most nights. 

“Heeseung! What’s up bro?” Jay dabs up Heeseung. 

You give Heeseung a once over. He’s wearing leggings underneath his black shorts, a bright yellow tank top, and a red headband wrapped around his head, pushing back his hair. On his feet are -- god you have to blink a couple of times. Bright pink shoes. Bright pink shoes. They must be Jeongin’s. 

“Nothing much. Just out running with Jungwonie. He was feeling a bit energetic this evening.” 

You side eye Jungwon who has begun to do some stretches -- well, to you it looks like he’s getting ready to spring another attack on you. 

“Y/N,” Heeseung addresses you. “Finish eating all the doughnuts I gave you?”

(Heeseung bought you another box of doughnuts today. He must be feeling pretty sorry for eating your seventeen dollar box of doughnuts last week. It makes your heart burn. And in a good way — at least you think. Maybe you have heart burn?)

You smile politely, very aware of the ice cream all over your face and the brewing brain freeze. “Of course. I have to say, they were super lovely, Heeseung. I appreciated your kind gesture. Very kind. Super good and kind. I loved it. Lots! Hahahahahahaha --”

“You okay?” Heeseung interrupts, furrowing his brows. He reaches over and presses his palm against your forehead. You jolt away instantly, scowling. 

“I’m not sick!” 

“You’re acting weird.”

You side eye Jungwon again. This time he’s on his phone. He’s probably calling for back up. Most likely Sunoo. Oh God, you’re about to get attacked, and then kidnapped. This is not good. You need to get out of here. 

“Weird?? Hahaha why would I be acting weird….” You choke down the rest of your ice cream with more force this time. Heeseung and Jay watch on in befuddlement. 

“Slow down girl,” Jay says. “That ice cream isn’t going anywhere.” 

“Maybe she’s just practicing,” Jake says. It seems he’s gotten over the trauma of hitting a dog with his soccer ball. “For, you know…..” 

If you weren’t trying to force mint chocolate ice cream down your throat, you would’ve jumped Jake. 

“Hey, woah,” Heeseung grabs your wrist and halts you from eating. “Let’s clean you up a bit.” He pulls a box of wet wipes out of thin air and begins to wipe your face gently with them, discarding them in the nearby bin. 

For some reason, your heart begins to palpitate as you watch Heeseung, who has a soft look on his face, clean your face. One hand gently holds your chin, while the other wipes away the ice cream you had smeared all over your face. Heeseung may be a freak and get on your nerves constantly and make you consider murder, but there are times like these; times where he is so kind and gentle towards you, and it makes you rethink your entire life --

Right. Your life. 

So, you were born on a frosty December morning. You came out screaming so loud, a couple of nurses had to leave the room and you roused your passed out father. In the room next to you, Jay was born a couple of seconds later, which led to you and Jay growing up together. Side by side. Hand in hand. The sharing-the-sandbox-and-pushing-each-other-off-the-monkey-bars growing up. 

All your life you’ve been stuck to Jay’s side. And you hated it. 

Elementary school started and you made new friends. Who then became Jay’s friends as well. You pushed Jay off the monkey bars every break time because he had invaded your big squad of girls, and you would get put in time out for ten minutes because of it every time. Jay would buy you a popsicle after school as an apology for worming his way into your girl group. 

(Though, Jake should be mentioned here; he was an honorary member of your girl club because he was pretty good at braiding hair. This is when you, Jake, and Jay became a tight knit group of friends, much to your displeasure. Did everything in your life have to revolve around Jay?)

Middle school came and with a renewed vigor, you made new friends. And so did Jay. And it turned out his friends were also your friends. Because, somehow, you befriended Yizhuo, and Lily, and so did Jay. But there was one person you and Jay did not share in common; Heeseung Lee.

Heeseung was in the grade above you. He was kind, smart, and very attractive. You had both gone to the same elementary school and he instantly took Jay under his wing, but you made sure to stay far away. Boys who weren’t Jay and Jake had cooties. You didn’t really talk to Heeseung until middle school when Jay thought it would be best to add Heeseung to your friend group. 

Instantly, Heeseung ticked you off and thus, began your long winded friendship of fighting and bickering every chance you got. It was just so easy to piss Heeseung off, and it was clear Heeseung took amusement in annoying you. At first, everyone told you it was because Heeseung liked you and wanted your attention -- but then came your freshman year, Heeseung’s sophomore year. 

High school was a whole new environment, and a new friend was added to your friend group; Sunghoon. But more on that later. High school meant maturity, sex, and nostalgia for your childhood -- more on the sex part later. 

With confidence filling your veins, you asked Heeseung out on a date. He promptly rejected you. That night, with Yizhuo and Lily, you called upon some demons and made them swear to curse Heeseung for the rest of his damned life.

Apparently, those demons suck fucking ass. 

While you spent most of your time bickering with the boys around you, there were the times when they were gentle with you -- Heeseung especially. Somewhere, buried deep down, Heeseung actually cares about you. You’ve seen the way he looks at you. You’ve seen the way he handles you when you’re crying or emotional in any way and you can’t help but let your heart flutter, even after swearing to move on from Heeseung ever since he rejected you. 

You don’t like admitting this but. Well. You’ve been in love with Heeseung since you were twelve. 

God. How pathetic. 

So -- there Heeseung was, gently wiping your face. “Messy girl,” Heeseung scolds gently. “Seriously. When did you become like Riki?” With a last swipe over your lips, Heeseung backs away. “There. Now, you look easy on the eyes.” 

Knuckles crack. You glance over at Jungwon. He’s cracking the bones in his neck. Oh God. You thrust the remainder of your ice cream at Jay and book it out of the park. You weren’t planning on staying any longer. ‘Local girl kidnapped by self-proclaimed Cat Boy’ is not a headline you want to be featured in. 

Sayonara bitches!

+

jake’s intervention: stop kissing everything

you: mom is making me come home for christmas

you: decided tn is my last night alive

you: anyone wanna watch me jump??????

jay smells: Can’t watch! I’m Jungwon-sitting

gaymansaywhat: Gay

gaymansaywhat: Woah who said that?????????????????

you: im so happy you came out of the closet sunghoon 😭😭😭😭

gaymansaywhat: Not funny. Didn’t laugh.

gaymansaywhat: I literally have a girlfriend. 

you: Ok…….moving on.

jake (DNR): what time are u planning to jump?

you: in ten minutes

jake (DNR): i’ll be there!

jake (DNR): physics is making me rethink my smoking sobriety oath

jay smells: girl. 

jay smells: BTW i’m also going back for christmas, and the invitation is extended to everyone!

nishimura: I’LL BE THERE

you: at my suicide or at christmas?

nishimura: wat do u think freak.

you: kys. food over free entertainment? i see what kind of boy you are, riki nishimura

heeseung: i think i’m a part of the family emailing list

heeseung: i even got assigned to bring a plate of dessert

jay smells: of course you did.

jay smells: i got assigned to bring meat and they’ll probably expect it to be like slow cooked lamb or something

Jungwon Yang: I’ll be there.

Jungwon Yang: At Christmas. Not suicide. 

Jungwon Yang: 👋

you: how can someone be horrifying over text?

barbienoo: i’ll def be there at christmas (:

barbienoo: can’t make the suicide, sry

you: i’m calling it off

you: it’s so pathetic how i only have jake as my audience

you: if anything that’s only making me MORE suicidal

heeseung: need some company, y/n?

heeseung: jeongin and beomgyu dumped me

you: poor baby heeseung

you: be a man about it and kill yourself.

gaymansaywhat: Anyone else feeling like a third wheel rn?

++

For once, the school day passes by relatively boring. No children crying, no friendship drama, and no boys tugging on ponytails. Humming to yourself, you tidy up your classroom while thinking of what to have for dinner tonight. Jake and Sunghoon were out bar hopping with Felix -- which basically meant they’ll be touring all the gay bars in the city. 

“Hey.”

Glancing up, you see Heeseung resting in the doorway of your classroom, his brown satchel Jay gifted him for his eighteenth birthday hanging off his shoulder. He was wearing a blue plaid button-up, black trousers, and those fancy leather brown shoes Jay buys by the hundreds. Seriously. Half of Jay’s room is full of shoe boxes. 

“Hey,” you respond, dumping the handful of trash you were holding into the nearby rubbish bin. 

“Hungry?” 

“I could eat three horses.”

Heeseung grins. “Perfect. I have a reservation at that new Italian restaurant in ten minutes. Meet you there?”

You narrow your eyes. “Is this a date?”

“Do you want it to be a date?”

“Well, you are fresh out of a break up. I know you, Beomgyu, and Jeongin were involved for a while --”

“--I hope you know we were joking about that polyamory shit --”

“-- It wasn’t a joke. It’s okay. We love the gay community in this classroom --”

“--Don’t tell me that you’re in love with me, Y/N --”

The conversation full of interruptions dies there. Can Heeseung tell? Just by the way you’re standing? Or the way you’re talking? That you’re in love with him? Shit. You need to do something to throw off suspicion. You can’t have Heeseung thinking you’re in love with him. That’ll lead to your demise. 

(“Okay, here’s my ‘How-to-stop-loving-Heeseung-Lee’ guide,” Lily Morrow announces, sitting on her bright pink couch in her bright yellow apartment. Yizhuo was sitting next to Lily, squinting at the Colleen Hoover book she was reading -- unfortunately, Yizhuo had fallen victim to Booktok’s Colleen Hoover propaganda. She’ll have to learn the hard way.

Wonyoung was also here. She was eating hot cheetos and daintily dusting off her fingers with a cute handkerchief your pretty sure you helped Sunghoon buy.

It was Girl’s Night. Well. An attempt at Girls night because only four of you were here. Minjeong had other business to attend to  -- Beomgyu and Jeongin apparently took higher priority over Girls Night. Chaewon actually had work. Like. Real life work. A full time corporate job kind of work, which was unfortunate, and Yunjin was attending to an SNS text Heeseung had sent her. Speak of the devil.

Fiddling with the ends of the throw pillow Lily’s roommate, Jinsoul, bought, you lean towards Lily with eager ears. “Tell me, Mrs. Morrow. Tell me how to stop my twelve-year pining.” 

Lily clears her throat. “First step is admitting, to Heeseung’s face, that you do not love him. Admittance in the face of adversity is always a good start.” 

You nod, eyes gleaming. “Okay. Admit I do not love Heeseung to his face. Good start. What’s the next step?”

Lily makes a face. It looks like she just got a toothache. “Um. That’s all I have.” 

There’s a long pause. 

Yizhuo gasps. “What a shit book!” And then she throws it across the room, narrowly missing the cat-shaped lamp Lily’s roommate -- Jinsoul, once again -- bought. “What are you two talking about?”

“What the fuck, Lily? Why did you call a Girl’s Night then? We were supposed to figure out how to stop my pining!” You cry, shoving your face against the ugly throw pillow. 

“I was….interrupted.”

“What was more important than coming up with a comprehensive guide to getting over Heeseung Lee?”

“Um. Jake called me. Said he had lady problems.” 

“He -- what? Jake has lady problems? He’s -- he can’t even get his dick up?!” 

Yizhuo snorts. “He can’t get his dick up?”

“He asked me if female dogs also go through puberty because Layla wasn’t listening to him.” 

“I’m gonna kill that fucking dog.” You swear.)

You laugh. “In love with you? That’s the funniest thing you’ve ever said, Heeseung Lee. I am not in love with you!” Phew. Good save. 

“Hmm, okay!” Heeseung shrugs. “Let’s go eat.” 

It’s a short drive over to the new Italian restaurant. You and Heeseung park next to each other and enter the restaurant in silence. It’s packed and conversation is spilling out into the night. Everything about this restaurant speaks romance, and it’s hard to not notice all the dates happening around you as you’re seated smack in the middle of the restaurant. 

Since you were driving, you decided to get some Fanta. 

“You still like Fanta?” Heeseung asks, wrinkling his nose. 

“Hater,” you scowl. “Fanta is good.”

“Sure. If you were raised in a dumpster and had to fight your way out.” 

You pick up the knife in front of you, watching it glint in the moody restaurant lighting. “Don’t test me, Heeseung. I was a waitress in high school.” 

“Is that supposed to scare me? Are you going to “are you ready to order” me to death?” 

“Watch that mouth, Heeseung Lee.” 

Heeseung grins and focuses back on the menu in front of him. “You do know Jeongin and Beomgyu and I weren’t actually dating?”

You smile, rolling your eyes. “Of course I know. But to anyone else? Well.”  The spaghetti bolognese sounds good, but their ravioli sounds even better -- oh wow their gnocchi. This is going to be a tough decision to make. Glancing up at Heeseung, you can’t remember the last time you two ever hung out like this. In fact, you can’t ever remember the last time the two of you were this polite with each other. 

“So, why’d you ask me to join you tonight? Do you still feel bad for eating all my doughnuts?” You set the menu down, deciding on the ravioli. 

“Nah,” Heeseung shakes his head. “Jeongin, Beomgyu, Yunjin, Minjeong, and I had this slideshow night a couple of nights back. Jeongin’s slideshow was a lecture on how we should all be mature by now -- I mean, no twenty-five-year-old should still be arguing like a twelve-year-old with their friend.” Heeseung glances up at you, an oddly warm look in his eyes. “It kinda got me thinking.” 

“Oh,” you fail to come up with a response. 

Your waiter comes back and you order your food. 

“I guess it’s time we mature,” you agree with Heeseung. You feel as though your world has been turned upside down. Being mature with Heeseung? That sounds immature. “Does this mean we have to say good morning and good evening to each other, and ask how each other is doing whenever we see each other?”

Heeseung snorts, siping his orange juice. (He’s one to talk about ordering Fanta. Only freaky losers order orange juice. Orange juice drinkers are the worst types of humans. Trust.) “Not that adult-like mature, Y/N. It’s like we didn’t grow up together.” 

“Well, if you wanna get technical --”

“Jay talked about you all the time in elementary school. I felt like I knew you before I actually knew you. I also thought you and Jay would get married, but apparently Jay has a type for women and men who don’t want him. Case and point; Yuna and Jungwon.” 

You giggle, thinking back to Jay’s whirlwind romance with Yuna -- that was all in his head. Jungwon…well that’s a work in progress according to Jay. You’re pretty sure Jungwon has a thing with Rei, which is probably why Riki is a bit antagonistic towards him because Riki has a thing for Rei. 

“Jake told me he was out with Felix tonight.”

You nod your head. “Jake and Sunghoon are going bar hopping with him. I wonder how long it’ll take for them to realize they’re actually going to every gay bar in the city.” 

“It’ll take a while for Sunghoon to figure out. He’s used to getting hit on by everyone and everything.” 

You raise your glass of Fanta. “Let’s cheers to that.” 

Your food arrives. It was just as yummy as you imagined, and the night floats away as you and Heeseung talk about everything under the sun. It felt weird, but nice, not arguing with Heeseung over stupid petty things like siblings would. You think you could get used to this. 

You order a brownie for dessert, and of course after saying he was too full for dessert, the gooey chocolate brownie is too tempting for Heeseung. 

“No!” You exclaim, whacking Heeseung’s hand away. “You do not get to eat this brownie. I’m paying for it, so I’m eating it. Don’t even think about touching it. I don't want your ugly music teacher hands getting all over it.” 

“You hate me,” scowls Heeseung. “And what did music teachers ever do to you?”

“Exist,” you snarl. 

Heeseung eyes you, and then breaks out into a grin, leaning back in his chair and stretching. “Ahh, I know what this is. This is reverse psychology flirting.” 

You give Heeseung a look, and then reach out to touch his forehead. “Are you sick, Heeseung, what are you even saying?”

Heeseung bats your hand away and opens his mouth. “Ahhh?” 

“Ahh,” you mock back and shove the entire brownie into your mouth. 

“Why do you eat food like it’s going to disappear in .5 seconds. What happened to savoring the flavor?” 

“So. Since when were you on my family’s email list for Christmas dinner?” You address the elephant in the room -- well, the elephant in the room for you. You’re pretty sure Heeseung isn’t aware that that’s all you’ve been thinking about for the past 48 hours. 

Heeseung shrugs, finishing off the last of his eighth glass of orange juice. “It just happened. I think it’s also your mom trying to get me married into the family.” 

“Is this the part where I’m supposed to get down on one knee?”

“I wouldn’t get married to you.” 

“How else will you marry into the family? I’m an only child.”

“There’s always Jay.” 

“He’s my mother’s non-biological son.” 

“She still thinks of him as a son.” 

“Fine. Be gay. See if I care.” 

Heeseung has a smug grin on his face. “I think you do care, Y/N. You care greatly about the fact that I would choose Jay over you.” 

“Everyone chooses Jay over me. Even my own mother,” you grumble. 

++

“How’s the Heeseung project coming along?” Yizhuo asks as she’s painting your nails over the dining table. Jay was busy in the kitchen, airpods in, and cutting up some vegetables for the curry he was making. Jake was busy crying over some physics shit and taking breaks to stare at the pack of Malboros he bought yesterday, and Sunghoon was giggling like a teenage girl as he texts Wonyoung. 

Freak. 

“Well, I told him I didn’t love him to his face like Lily advised,” you say. 

Yizhuo nods her head.

“And that’s all I’ve done so far.” 

Yizhuo gives you a disappointed look. 

“Don’t look at me like that!” You whine. “It’s just. Hard. Okay? Super duper hard because everything about him attracts me. Even his fucking adam’s apple.” 

“Why are we talking about Adam's apple?” Jake asks, walking into the kitchen, tears streaming down his face and his fingers twitching. 

You both ignore Jake who then immediately breaks down as soon as he opens the refrigerator. Sometimes you regret moving in with Jake. He’s prone to breakdowns. 

“Keep this up and you’re gonna die alone. And a virgin.” Yizhuo hisses.

“Actually, I’m not a virgin. Remember?” 

“Why’d you have to remind me,” groans Yizhuo. 

So -- the sex thing. 

You + Jake + alcohol = Sex. 

End of story. 

Yunjin suddenly bursts into the kitchen, Sunghoon following close behind. She leans over, her hands resting on her knees and she gasps for breath. Everyone stops what they’re doing and stares at her. It takes a while for Yunjin to regain her composure -- it’s probably all the hotboxing she does with Beomgyu, Jeongin, and their pickle rick bong. 

“Heeseung -- Heeseung’s on a date.”

Ladies and Gentlemen, this is where Act Two begins.

++

Act II: A love that nobody could destroy

[SCENE: CHRISTMAS PARTY, 9 PM]

It’s Christmas. It’s the season of cheer. It’s the season of snow, snowmen, and eggnog. It’s the season of giving. It’s the season of kissing each other under the mistletoe and having hot Christmas sex while Jingle Bells plays.

You sit on the couch, eyes following Heeseung around the house like a hawk. So, Heeseung has been going out on dates with a girl named Ryujin. Interesting. You’ve never heard of the name Ryujin before, and your mother knows everyone in the godforsaken city. Next to you, Jeongin shifts uncomfortably.

“Remind me why we’re sitting together?”

“You’re a Heeseung magnet,” you tell him. 

“I am?” 

You look at Jeongin. “Yes.” And then you look back at Heeseung. 

Christmas; season of cheer and giving, but for you? It’s the season of green-eyed monsters named jealousy. You wonder, what does this Ryujin girl have that you don’t? What was so special about her that made Heeseung decide to go on dates with her instead of you? Was your hang out at that really nice Italian restaurant really that bad? You shiver at the thought. 

Jeongin, ever the Heeseung magnet, manages to attract Heeseung over to the couch you were both sitting on. Sitting up straighter, Heeseung takes a seat beside you, his knee brushing yours. You almost drop your eggnog. 

“Hey,” Heeseung greets, grabbing a pillow and holding it against his chest. “Pretty fun party, isn’t it? Your mom always throws the best parties, Y/N.” Heeseung beams at you. Teeth and all. You swoon a bit. 

“Yeah, well, she’s putting on her best since you’re here.” Is this flirting? Are you flirting? Beside you, Jeongin snorts into his cup of lemonade. 

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “So, how many cards did you get before Christmas break? I got about fifty. Lots of chocolate too.” 

“I’m not sharing that private information with you.” 

“Ahh, you only got three.” 

“Did not! My students love me!” You defend. 

“Hmm. Sure.” 

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Heeseung smiles like he knows the answer to every question ever. “Oh, you know. I’ve heard some things about you…..”

You practically pin Heeseung to the back of the couch, your eggnog thrust into Jeongin’s unwilling hand. “Tell. Me. Now.” You demand, through gritted teeth. “Or I will castrate you.” 

“Last time you threatened castration nothing happened.” 

“This time it will happen. I know a guy who knows a vet.” 

Heeseung raises an eyebrow. “Do tell, Y/N.” 

“First, you spill your secrets and I spill mine.” 

Unfortunately, Sunghoon interrupts your interrogation. “As much as we’re all enjoying the view,” Sunghoon says, sounding deeply amused, “your services are required, darling Y/N.” 

If you were Medusa, Sunghoon would be stone. “What.” Venom practically spits from your mouth. Who dared to interrupt your interrogation? Oh. Of course it was Jay and Jake. They stand in a shadowed corner, beckoning you over with not-so subtle hand gestures. 

Reluctantly, you let go of Heeseung, pat down your dress, and approach the two boys, Sunghoon hot on your heels. 

“How important is this?” You hiss. “I almost had Heeseung’s confession.” 

“Confession?!” Exclaims Jake. “He was gonna admit his love to you?”

Freeze frame -- a little backstory;

After Yunjin all but burst into your kitchen with that sudden proclamation of Heeseung on a date, Jay promptly asked you what you were going to do about that, which led to you freaking out and wondering how the hell Jay knew you were in love with Heeseung.

“I knew it from the moment I introduced you to him,” Jay said, sounding proud of himself. You, on the other hand, can’t help but feel suspicious. Since when was Jay so observant of you? In fact, when has Jay ever been that observant? Or had those kinds of feelings -- the psychic weirdo feelings? Jay’s a pretty straight forward facts kinda guy. Suspicion fills up your stomach, but you push it aside. 

“Yeah, Y/N. You should go confess to Heeseung. It’s getting tiring,” Jake had followed up with after Jay’s explanation. It seemed his tears had dried up. After another shouting match of you asking Jake how he knew, you found out Jake only found out last year because Jay had told him. Once again, you were suspicious because since when did Jay willingly tell Jake all the secrets he knew? If there was one thing Jay was good at, it was goading Jake. He loved to tease and annoy the shit out of Jake, and he loved holding things over the Australian’s head. 

Sunghoon’s reaction on the other hand, wasn’t surprising at all; “You love Heeseung?” An alien could be having sex with another alien in front of Sunghoon, and he wouldn’t even notice. 

So, you found out two of your roommates knew of your love for Heeseung, and Sunghoon had just found out, so immediately a plan was put into action. Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon took this seriously, deciding they were gonna play Spies. Overdramatic freaks.

That’s why Jake, Jay, Sunghoon, and you were conversing in a dark corner in the living room. Apparently, that’s something spies do. “We have intel on this Ryujin Shin,” Jake says, in a low tone, eyes scouring the room for any eavesdroppers. You have to stifle a laugh. 

“Pray tell, Agent Layla.” 

(Agent Layla = Jake

Agent Mariners = Jay

Agent Ice Prince = Sunghoon.)

(Pretty stupid names if anybody were to ask you.)

“She’s a lesbian.” 

Silence fills the dark living room corner. 

“And you’ve confirmed it?”

Jay whips out his phone and shows you photos of Ryujin Shin. HD 4K photos. 

“We literally caught her in 4K.”

“You stalked her?”

“Well --”

“You guys are taking this spy agent shit too seriously.” 

“We’re bored, Y/N!” Sunghoon whines. “Bored, horny adult men.” 

“You could’ve left the horny part out,” Jake mumbles. 

“Okay, So, she’s a lesbian,” you say, confirming it yourself as you swipe through photos of this Ryujin Shin girl kissing another girl. “Does Heeseung look like a girl?” 

Once again, silence falls over the dark living room corner. All four of you turned to look at Heeseung who was engaged in what seemed like a deep conversation with Jeongin. Lord knows what they were talking about. Probably the drama in Jeongin and Beomgyu’s pilates class. 

“No. He’s not.” Jay confirms.

“But if your tilt your head slightly….” Sunghoon says, with a tilted head. Jake whacks him and Sunghoon straightens up. “Nope. Heeseung is very much a guy. Jake can confirm because he’s seen his dick before -- right?”

Jake nods his head. “It was a pretty solid dick.” 

“So, Heeseung is a guy, Ryujin goes around kissing girls, why the hell would they go out on dates with each other?” You ask the question of the hour. 

No one says anything for a moment.

“Maybe it’s an experiment,” Jake pipes up. “Maybe Heeseung is trying to turn Ryujin to the dark side.” 

“Dark side?” You ask.

“Straight.” 

“The dark side is being straight?”

Jake nods his head. “We hate heteros here.” 

“Down with the heterosexuals!” Sunghoon exclaims. 

“Okay, I’m finished with this conversation. I’m walking away. And over to Heeseung.” You shake your head. You feel your brain cells exploding. 

“Wait! Y/N! What was the second step in Lily’s comprehensive guide to getting over Heeseung Lee?” Jay asks frantically. 

“There was no second step,” you say. “So I’m left to figure out the second step all by myself. I mean, I should probably go on a date with someone, right?” 

“I can set you up,” Sunghoon says.

“No.” You shoot him down immediately. 

++

Your date was a guy named Mark. You’re spending your date in front of a claw machine, watching Mark blow all his money on attempting to get this one monkey plushie you had pointed out. “It’s fine, Mark, really. I don’t need it.” But, like all men, he ignored you and shoved another one dollar note into the claw machine. Groaning, you turn around, not bothering to watch another failed attempt.

The arcade was alive with people at 8 PM. Huh, who knew. 

At first, Mark seemed like a cool dude. And then he howled at the moon fifteen seconds after you started up a conversation about Twilight with him. He told you he was team Jacob and that made you incredibly wary of him. Why would anyone be team Jacob? 

There were a million other games you would love to play -- like the motorbike one across from you. You totally ruled at motorbike arcade games. Or there was this zombie apocalypse game you passed by as Mark led you over to the basketball game -- and then you pointed out the monkey plushie and Mark forgot all about his bragging about how he’s the best basketballer since Lebron. 

Your mind trails to Heeseung. Typical. If it were Heeseung you were on a date with, you wouldn’t be standing here with a deep longing to play the motorbike game because you would be playing the motorbike game. Heeseung would be on the bike next to you making stupid remarks and you would be beside yourself in laughter. 

The thing is; you’re what someone would call ‘emotionally repressed.’ You hate thinking, talking and feeling your feelings. Especially when it comes to romantic attraction toward your long-time friend. Ever since Heeseung rejected you back in freshman year, you’ve become accustomed to pushing your feelings away and burying them in the deep dark depths of your mind. They rarely come out to play -- and when they do, you’re ready and waiting to whack them back into hiding. 

With a huff, you decide that this isn’t the date you want. You don’t want to be stuck to Mark Lee’s side for the night, so with tense shoulders you turn around to -- Mark Lee holding out the monkey plushie you pointed out, a broad grin on his face. “I’m a pro,” he says, fifty dollars poorer. “Now, it’s time for me to get my Lebron on,” and he leads you over to the basketball game. 

Okay. Maybe Mark wasn’t that bad. He just….has some flaws. Fatal flaws. (Like seriously. Who howls at the fucking moon??)

“Noooo wayyy!” Mark exclaims, pulling up to the arcade game and tapping the shoulder of a hooded shoulder. As soon as you see the face of the hooded figure, you melt into the ground, never to be seen again. Heeseung Lee. What the fuck was he doing here? This was not the second step to Lily Morrow’s comprehensive guide to getting over Heeseung Lee. He wasn’t supposed to intrude on your date!

“Yo, Mark!” Heeseung daps him up, and then he sees you. Disgustingly, his face lights up. It’s like, ever since the Doughnut Incident, he’s decided to call you a friend, which isn’t exactly a good thing but also; you’re sick of being stuck in the friendzone. Like, c’mon!!!!!!!!!!! It’s been ten years since he rejected you, surely some feelings have developed in those ten years. 

Well. There was the whole Jake Year. You don’t really want to delve into that -- too much uncharted territory and angst for you. 

“Y/N!” Heeseung exclaims, wrapping you in a hug. If only Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon were here to see this. Wonyoung would also probably be there, since Sunghoon was. Ever since Christmas, you never see Wonyoung or Sunghoon without each other. Jay reckons they’ve gotten engaged. Jake’s too busy crying over Layla biting him to care. 

“Hey,” you greet. 

“You sound enthusiastic.”

“You know me, always enthused to see you.” 

Ryujin Shin pops out of nowhere, because of course she does. 

“Let’s be honest,” you blurt out, and then immediately regret it when Ryujin gives you a weird look. You need to stop hanging around Riki. And Jeongin. Don’t even start on Jeongin Yang. 

Heeseung also gives you a weird look. “Let’s be honest, I need to poop,” you try to recover from that fuck up, but you think you only make it worse. “I think I’m about to blow, can we reschedule this date, Mark? I need to get to the nearest toilet before I explode.” You need to shut the fuck up. But you’re stressed and when you’re stressed, your mouth runs like a motor unable to stop. Jay says it’s your worst feature, Sunghoon says it’s your most defining feature. You told Sunghoon his most defining feature was the bruise he was about to get from your punch to the face. 

“Are you sick?” Heeseung asks. Because apparently you constantly get sick around him. 

“I’m fine.” (Why does your voice crack?) Suddenly, the arcade becomes overwhelming. You have to get out. So, with a hurried goodbye to Mark, you exit the arcade, gripping the monkey plushie tightly and trying to push the boiling pot of emotions further down -- but it doesn’t work, like it normally does, and your chest becomes tight. 

You make it halfway down the street before you start crying. Why are you crying? Why?? What brought this on? Maybe it’s the fact Heeseung’s dating other people -- lesbians, to be exact. Maybe it’s the fact you tried to move on. Maybe it’s the fact Heeseung is always there, wherever you go. 

Okay, so you know you haven’t gone into much detail about how much you truly love Heeseung, so here’s the truth; you love him. Really love him, that sometimes, it’s hard to breathe. You love Heeseung, that just the thought of him keeps you awake on random nights. When you were thirteen, you planned out your life with Heeseung in your diary. When you were fourteen, after Heeseung rejected you, you cried so hard you threw up and took three days off of school. When you were fifteen and trying to move on from Heeseung, you couldn’t. 

When you were seventeen, you played a game of seven minutes in heaven and you wished badly to get Heeseung. You thought that maybe, if he kissed you, he would take back his rejection from freshman year. Instead, the bottle landed on Jake and --

You’ve loved Heeseung for twelve years. 

Every time you think about the future, Heeseung is always there. Even now, when you’re trying to move on. Even now, when you were waiting for Mark to get the monkey plushie. Even now, as you’re crying, you’re wondering why it’s so hard to make Heeseung love you. 

Maybe the whole Doughnut Incident was just the catalyst for this; your ultimate demise. Maybe, that Doughnut Incident, and everything that occurred after, is just the universe giving you a sign it’s time to give up. You’ve wasted twelve years of your life. Give Up. 

“Y/N?” 

Heeseung’s here. Heeseung -- Heeseung followed you?

You glance up, and Heeseung frowns, coming to stand in front of you to brush away your tears.

Maybe you were too in your head -- too blinded by fighting down your emotions that you didn’t realize how Heeseung truly treated you. Sure, you both argued over menial things, and called each other names just for the hell of it, but this was the true friendship of you and Heeseung -- forged over late night talks, and sneaking into Jay’s massive kitchen to eat all his pop tarts and drink his Coke. 

Heeseung takes care of you. He was always there for you in high school when you spent hours in the school, and local library. He was there for you in college, when you were a pathetic mess and spent most of your freshman and sophomore years crying every day. And God. He was there for you during your Jake Years -- even when he shouldn’t’ve been. 

This whole time, you’ve been deluding yourself into believing Heeseung never cared, when it’s so obvious now. He’s cradling your face, with concerned eyes. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” His voice is soft. So so soft. You’re utterly beguiled. You’re overwhelmed. You’re in a daze.

You respond by kissing Heeseung. 

++

The Jake Years. 

1. When did Jake and Y/N first hook up

Freshman year of college

Senior year of high school

Junior year of high school

2. When did Jake and Y/N begin regularly hooking up?

Freshman year of college. October 31st.

Sophomore year of college. November 15th.

Senior year of high school, December 31st.

3. How long did this relationship last?

Five months

Two years

One year

One year, nine months

4. Why did Jake and Y/N begin hooking up?

Because Y/N needed to get over Heeseung

Because Jake had a crush on Y/N

5. What were the consequences for hooking up with each other?

The answer is too long to be multi choice

The friend group falling apart, Heeseung fading away, Jake and Y/N resenting each other for a year after the relationship ended, Heeseung dating a girl called Giselle. 

Y/N didn’t realize it at the time, but Heeseung loved her. He was in love with her. His heart was dedicated to her. He would’ve confessed, if it weren’t for him walking in on Jake and Y/N making out in a bathroom. Heeseung tried to keep his distance from Y/N, and Jake, but he loved her. So, he stayed and tried to repair his broken heart in the process.

Jake and Y/N blaming each other for all their problems. 

All of the above. And more. 

Examiner’s notes: I know this looks like a lot. And it is. And there’s more. There’s always more to the story, and if Y/N hadn't been so blind, then she would’ve seen Heeseung’s love and affection for her. Heeseung got to college, and realized he missed Y/N more than any of his other friends. He missed her, and missing her made him love her. He worshipped Y/N, and was willing to do anything for her and that made it hard to walk away from their friendship when she started hooking up with Jake, so Heeseung stayed. He fucking stayed. He stayed, and let Y/N shatter his heart whole. If Y/N had only opened her fucking eyes, looked outside of her mind, she could’ve seen what she had been wishing for for most of her life. Good exam. You seemed to have studied this topic well -- you have the best marks in this class! I hope to see you taking this course at a collegiate level. 

++

“Not a fucking intervention,” you groan, opening the door to see Beomgyu and Jeongin in yoga pants and matching cheetah-print tank-tops. Did cheetah-print tank-tops even exist? You wonder where Beomgyu and Jeongin found them, Lily and her roommate, Jinsoul, would totally love them. “I don’t need an intervention. I’m fine. Please, I hate pilates.” 

Jeongin grabs your arm and yanks you out the door. “Nope. You’re coming to our pilates class.” 

“I’ll scream.”

“Try us,” Beomgyu smiles. It’s not a nice smile. You hate it when Beomgyu smiles with his teeth. 

Jeongin and Beomgyu’s pilate’s class was infamous for many things -- their teacher, Joshua Hong, was a little bit on the…..gay side. And everyone who went to pilates with Beomgyu and Jeongin, came back a changed person -- Jake can attest to that. He was free of his Christian guilt and immediately lit up five bongs, got stoned, ran through the streets naked, and entered a Catholic church. Talk about extreme. 

“Fine. I’ll jump out your van and kill myself.” 

“It’ll be our pleasure to witness that great feat,” Jeongin responds, rapidly pushing the down button on the elevator before giving up and heading for the stairs. 

“What the fuck why are we taking the stairs? We live on the fifteenth floor. I’m not walking down fifteen flights of stairs. Look! The elevator is starting to climb floors --”

“Shut up and start climbing, Y/N,” Beomgyu says, holding the door open. “You need this.” 

“Did you just call me fat?” 

“Maybe. Move your fat ass.” 

“Rude as hell.” 

“You wanna know what’s rude?” Jeongin asks, and instantly, you know what’s about to be said.

“Nope. Don’t say anything. I don’t wanna know --”

“Kissing our best friend and then running away.” 

Yeah. That happened. Call it a moment of panic. 

You groan loudly, the sound reverberating through the stairwell. “I’ll admit, not my finest moment.” 

“Actually, hooking up with Jake while Heeseung was in love with you was not your finest moment,” Jeongin corrects, holding up his forefinger. Behind you, Beomgyu disguises his laughter as a cough. 

You already knew Heeseung was in love with you while you and Jake were hooking up because of Sunoo. He was severely inebriated and decided to spill dark, juicy secrets to you. But, like everything else related to Heeseung, you pushed it away and pulled on your blind glasses, letting your unreliable train of thoughts control the narrative of your life. 

Pulling up to a pilates class in jeans was the worst mistake of your life, but Beomgyu and Jeongin didn’t seem to care as they placed their mats down at the very front of the room, and right next to….Jungwon, Sunoo, and Riki. God. You were literally in hell. 

Jungwon hisses at you, Riki smirks, and Sunoo holds in his laugh. Clearly, the news of you kissing Heeseung had spread fast. 

“I hope all women die,” Jungwon claims in a rather dramatic fashion.

“Don’t say that. They’ll call you misogynistic,” Sunoo says, patting Jungwon on the head. 

“Well. That is something a misogynist would say,” Riki points out. 

“I can’t believe you broke Heeseung’s heart a second time,” a voice behind you says. 

“Who the fuck are you?” You ask, whirling around.

“Chan!” 

“Someone with the name Chan probably stinks,” Beomgyu says. 

“That’s rude,” Chan comments. 

“Your feet stink,” the person behind Chan says. 

Chan leaves the pilates class.

“So,” Jeongin says, beginning to stretch. “What happened?”

You stand there, arms folded, mat still folded, and in jeans. “Not telling.” 

Jungwon hisses again. Sunoo has to manhandle the younger boy away from you. 

“Why not?” Beomgyu asks, pulling out a cruiser from his bag. He takes a sip like it’s water. To be honest, you’re not surprised. You’ve seen their fridge before. You’ve never wanted to unsee something so badly. 

“Because it’s stupid,” you feel ashamed to admit this but whatever. You pick at your jeans. 

“What’s stupid?” Jeongin probes, now doing a handstand -- what the fuck?

“Just -- everything!” 

Upon your sudden proclamation, the pilates instructor, Joshua Hong walks in. Saved by the teacher, you let out a sigh of relief. Jeongin and Beomgyu would have to give up their interrogation for now and you’ll get time to think over pretty solid excuses to their questions. 

Or so you thought.

“Gayshua -- sorry, Joshua!” Beomgyu calls out, “we have another one!” And he points to you. This Joshua Hong fellow grins so brightly you literally have to squint. Talk about veneers. 

“Dope. Come on up here,” Joshua gestures to the podium that is usually used by instructors. 

“What?” You’re confused. 

“Intervention time!” Sunoo cheers, clapping. Soon, the whole studio is clapping and Beomgyu leads you up to the podium. You feel totally befuddled. What the fuck. You were supposed to air out your deepest darkest secret to a room full of strangers?

“Alright, this is Y/N,” Beomgyu introduced you. “She’s in love with our best friend, Heeseung Lee. You all know Heeseung, right?”

Everyone nods their head, and a voice rings out, “yeah! He’s pretty dope.” The voice belonged to Mark Lee. Of-fucking-course. Somehow, this all gets more embarrassing. 

“And he’s in love with her too and she broke his heart --”

“He used to be in love with me,” you correct Beomgyu. “He doesn’t love me anymore.”

Beomgyu laughs so loudly you cower away. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” 

“What…..what was funny about that?” Your ears are still ringing. 

“If he didn’t love you anymore, why is he crying in bed watching Riverdale? Why did you break his heart a second time, as he so dramatically put it?”

It’s like an atom bomb was dropped on you.

“Wait. You said Riverdale?”

Beomgyu nods his head. “That’s how you know it’s bad.” Then he turns back to address his fellow pilates friends. “Y/N did a classic ‘kiss-and-run.’ Today, we will help her unpack all of her feelings, and emotions. But beware; she’s incredibly emotionally repressed. Like it’s fucking terrible.” Then, Beomgyu hops off the stage, and everyone’s eyes are on you. 

“Yo? A kiss-and-run? She must be insaneee,” you hear Mark murmur. 

Maybe he was right.

++

That pilates intervention did nothing. You ended up getting stoned with Beomgyu and Jeongin after, and then immediately falling asleep as soon as you got home. Heeseung plagues your dreams. He’s a never ending nightmare -- right? Dreaming about Heeseung is a nightmare? 

The week continues on. You ignore all the advice Beomgyu and Jeongin’s pilates class gave you and instead take your own advice. You avoid and ignore the problem -- Heeseung. Hell, you don’t even like his Instagram stories. It’s serious business to you. Even at school you manage to avoid Heeseung. 

It’s a Saturday night. Wonyoung is over for dinner. “You know, Y/N,” Wonyoung speaks up suddenly as you’re loading the dishwasher and she’s searching through the fridge. “I think you’re pretty pathetic for avoiding Heeseung.” 

Being called pathetic by Wonyoung Jang of all people means you’ve hit a new low.

“Pardon?” It’s the only response you can manage.

Wonyoung shuts the fridge and smiles at you. “Well, first of all, I don’t know why you enlisted in Lily’s help. Everyone knows she’s not the best person to go to for help. And second of all, I don’t see the point in avoiding Heeseung -- you both love each other. Just go and confess and then you’ll live your life-long dream.” 

“It’s complicated,” you protest, but even to you it sounds like a weak excuse. 

“No it’s not,” Wonyoung responds, studying the various photos and reminders pinned to the surface of your fridge by the random magnets Jake buys -- he has a magnet addiction. It must be the physics part of him -- “you’re the one that’s making it complicated. You love to complicate things, don’t you?” 

This whole conversation is worse than death.

You spend the entire night replaying the conversation over and over again. Your fingers begin to twitch and you grab your phone, unlock it, and click on Heeseung’s contact, your finger hovering over the call button. 

A minute later, you throw down the phone and get up to use the toilet. You’ll never be able to work up the courage to call, or text Heeseung. Maybe this is for the best, really. Pushing open the door to the bathroom, you stop in your tracks upon the sight of Jake helping Layla pee into the toilet. 

“Oh, she’s actually getting better?” 

Jake turns and flashes a smile. “You know what they say! Practice makes perfect!” 

“Right…” you trail off. “Jake, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Jake says, grabbing some toilet paper for Layla. 

“Do you regret….it?” 

“Yes,” Jake says, without missing a beat. 

“Oh,” you don’t know why you feel so offended, but you don’t blame Jake for regretting it. A lot of friendships were ruined in the process of your relationship. 

“You know, Y/N, you’re not as emotionally repressed as you think. If you wanted, you’d be with Heeseung right now.” 

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

“Sex buddies for life!” Jake grins. “Look, Y/N. You can’t blame yourself for everything that happened in college. We were stupid, you were emotional and in love and I took whatever you gave me. It’s in the past, we’re more mature now. You have a chance, and you should take it. Don’t be afraid.” 

You groan and hold your head in your hands. “I just -- I just can’t call him. I can’t. What do I even say to him?” 

“So don’t call him,” Jake says matter-of-factly. “Go see him.” 

“Go see him? At 2 in the morning?” 

“Excuses, excuses,” tsks Jake. “I’ll drive you.” 

“You’re broke and have no gas.”

“I nicked Jaehyun’s keys in the lobby earlier.”

“Jake!” 

“You’ll be thanking me later. C’mon, let’s go.” 

++

Jake pulls up to Heeseung’s apartment building. You’re sitting in the backseat since Jake insisted on Layla having the passenger’s seat. Your stomach rolls over with nerves and every gulp you take only increases the speed of your heart. 

“I feel sick,” you croak. 

“Throw up in the gutter, not in my car.”

“You mean Jaehyun’s car.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get out and go see Heeseung. Tell him you love him and want to have his babies.” 

“Alright, alright.” 

Layla barks at you as you exit the car.

“Layla says ‘fighting!’” Jake tells you. 

“Thanks Layla.” You sigh and turn to look up at the building in front of you. “I can do this,” I whisper. 

“I won’t wait for you!” 

“What?!” I exclaim, turning back around. “Why not?”

“I’m tired and need sleep, so you better make sure Heeseung accepts your love and apology otherwise you’re walking home, or sleeping on the street.” With that, Jake pulls away from the curb, leaving you standing helplessly in your cat pajamas and BTS hoodie. 

The elevator ride up to Heeeseung’s floor is the longest ride of your life. You’re sweating everywhere -- forehead, palms, armpits, elbow, behind the knees, and even your feet. You can do this. You can do this. It’s easy, just apologize and admit your love. 

The elevator door dings open revealing Heeseung. 

“Oh!”

“Oh.”

You and Heeseung stare at each other for so long, the elevator doors start to shut again. For a second, you want them to shut and take you away, but then you remember Jake’s threats, and Wonyoung’s words and you’re thrusting your hands out, stopping the doors from closing. 

“Heeseung,” You begin with a surge of confidence. “I’m sorry for running away after kissing you. That was kind of a stupid move.” 

The elevator doors begin to shut again. You thrust your hand out to stop them from closing. “Like, it was genuinely stupid because why did I do that? I mean, I’ve been in love with you for twelve years, so I should’ve stayed and kissed you more --”

You hold your hand out to stop the doors from closing. 

“--I should’ve enjoyed kissing you. But instead, I ran because apparently that’s what I’ve been doing for the past couple of years. It’s true, though, that I’ve loved you for twelve years. I loved you every second of those twelve years. I’ve never stopped. And it’s okay if you don’t love me back, even though Beomgyu told me you’re watching Riverdale. I’m sorry for making you so sad you watched Riverdale. I think that’s the worst part about all of this.”

This time, it’s Heeseung who stops the doors, letting you continue on with your monologue. You hope you’re making sense. 

“I guess this is where I say; I love you Heeseung, and I would like another chance to kiss you.” 

Heeseung doesn’t say anything when he gets into the elevator with you. He presses the lobby button, and watches the door close in silence. You’re pretty sure you’re not breathing. “Heeseung?” You ask, gently. “Are you okay?” 

Heeseung doesn’t say anything until the doors ding open, revealing the lobby. Turning to you, Heeseung takes your hand and leads you out of the elevator. “Heeseung, where are we going?” You ask, following Heeseung as he leads you out of the apartment building. 

It’s raining.

“Do you have an umbrella?” Heeseung asks, finally saying something.

You shake your head.

“I can’t be bothered going back up to get mine. Are you okay with walking in the rain?”

“Of course, as long as I’m with you.”

Cringe or not, it makes Heeseung smile. 

“Well, actually, I kind of do mind because when my hair dries after being out in the rain it gets all frizzy and --” You cut yourself off as Heeseung breaks out into a sprint, tugging you along with him. What the fuck was he on? Was he stoned, or something? Maybe he was leading you to your death. Sounds right. You, too, would murder Heeseung if he pulled a kiss-and-run on you. In fact, it would probably be a murder-suicide. 

Okay. That’s kind of morbid. 

It turns out, Heeseung took you for a run around the block. God he’s such a weirdo. And a loser. And a freak. And you’re totally in love with him. He has no flaws. He’s perfect. He’s like Prince Charming, if Prince Charming’s hobbies were hotboxing and playing every instrument known to man. 

“What the fuck, Heeseung? Why did we just run around the block?” 

“You look cute,” Heeseung responds. “I totally dig your cat pajamas. Didn’t Jay give you those?” 

“Um. Yes? Answer my question, Heeseung.” 

“I actually told Jay to buy you those.” 

“Really?”

Heeseung nods. “He was freaking out. He didn’t know what to buy you. I, as usual, was his savior.” 

“Oh, well, thank you?” 

“It’s fine,” Heeseung smiles, his eyes crinkling. “And to answer your question; I’ve always wanted to kiss someone in the rain.”

“....Okay but why did we have to get soaked?” 

“It makes the kiss more romantic.”

“How so?” 

“Want me to show you?” 

God, you don’t think you’ve ever smiled wider. You’re pretty sure you’re splitting your face in half with how wide you’re smiling. You must look ugly. Hopefully Heeseung will still want you. “Yes. Please.”

So, Heeseung shows you.

He kisses you. 

And he’s right. He’s so fucking right. You should start kissing Heeseung in the rain, while soaked, more often. 

He kisses you, and you stop shivering. He warms you from the inside out. Heeseung Lee is officially a genius. He should get a Nobel Peace Prize for kissing in the rain. 

“Wow,” you say, pulling away. You feel Heeseung’s thumbs brush over your cheeks as he cradles your face so gently. “You were right.”

“Always am. And for the record, I love you too, I accept your apology, and I’ve loved you for thirteen years.” 

“What? No you haven’t! I’ve loved you for longer!” Heeseung is a liar. He is a freak. There is no way in hell he’s loved you longer than you’ve loved him. Seriously, how blind and stupid are you? For all you know, you and Heeseung could’ve been in a twelve-year long relationship by now. Damn. You feel sick all of a sudden….curse you and your stupid self. You should ask your mom if you got dropped on the head repetitively when you were a baby.

“Yes. I’ve loved you for thirteen years. I remember when I first felt it. We were at Jay’s. It was barbeque night. You grabbed the ketchup bottle and it exploded all over your top. One of the funniest moments of my life, but it was also the moment I started loving you.” 

“....That’s not fair.” 

“Nothing in life is fair.” 

“You’re such a loser.” 

“Says the one who ran away after finally kissing me.” 

“Can we not bring that up?!” you whine. 

“Oh, I’m gonna bring it up for the rest of your life,” grins Heeseung. 

“Let’s break up.” 

“No,” Heeseung says, and kisses you again. “Also, I was expecting more of an extravagant way of professing your love for me,” he says after drawing back from the kiss. 

“Oh, I had something planned. I was going to make my kids, one by one, enter your classroom with a rose and hand it to you, and then I was gonna get the band to play "I Melt With You" by Modern English while I get down on my knees and profess my love for you.” 

Heeseung’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “Really?!”

“No.” 

++

jake’s intervention: stop kissing everything

[2:45 AM]

you: heeseung and i are dating btw

you: in case anyone cares

[12 PM]

gaymansaywhat: Congrats.

[9:22 PM]

nishimura: sunoo give me 20 bucks or jungwon gets it

author’s note: idk what that ending was. it just got worse the longer i went on…. also this probs couldve been more angstier but i am currently suffering and going through the worst writers block of my life so pls forgive me. anyway stars will fall part two is being written its just. a long process. hope u enjoyed this shit show pls dont take any of it seriously 😭😭😭

[haggishlyhagging]

My wish for every woman and girl is that she learns to live solely for herself. That she believes in her inherent right to simply exist without altering herself to fit anyone’s demands. Not parents, not children, not bosses, not spouses. Not pets, not the community, not the country, not the planet.

What would women and girls be like if we weren’t constantly threatened with social disapproval at best and annihilation at worst so that we agree to modify our most natural self to enable others to have an easier life?

What would the world look like if we were allowed to become our true selves? Do you ever think about it?

It is the tragedy of my life that I will never know. It is the tragedy of my life that I will die with this understanding: nearly every female on this planet is a self-hating, self-policing, unnatural composition of everyone else’s ideas about What She Should Be and not her complete, authentic, brilliant, natural, exhilarating, whole self.

[lovexjoe]

PENPALS Part 5

Mike wakes up along with Dorn and Kelly. Everyone completely confused on why Marcus was this fired up at 8 in the morning. He tosses the Polaroids on Mike’s lap and he picks up the naughty one first. How convenient.

“Goddamn she got a body-“ Mike brings it close

“Look at the rest of the photos Mike!”

“Wh-Oh! OHH SHIT! Lord forgive me for saying that about my niece.” Mike puts his hands up in the air for a mock apology cause he ain’t mean that shit at all.

“Your SON! Is fucking my DAUGHTER MIKE. OH MY GOD! And they SLEPT IN THE SAME ROOM LAST NIGHT. They was fucking Mike they was doing the nasty” Marcus was pacing the room while Dorn and Kelly just stood there wide eyed trying to process everything.

“Marcus she’s a grown adult now-“

“That’s not the point Mike! She was in school when they met….how the fuck you think he got those pictures?”

Mike couldn’t even save you on that one cause what were you doing being penpals with a prisoner? You were truly in deep shit. Marcus headed straight to the guest room and busted the door open to see you two snuggled up.

“WAKE THE FUCK UP!”

Your eyes shot open and so did Armando’s. You both looked at each other than at your dad. Oh goody. Wonderful way to wake up after getting the best sex of your life last night.

“Hiii dad,” you gave an innocent smile

“Oh no you got some explaining to do now before I kill this motherfucker get dressed and be in the living room in FIVE MINUTES.” Your dad, Dorn and Kelly headed to the living room while Mike stood back for a little bit.

“Happy for y’all but you missy you in some shit alright. Good luck. AND Y’ALL BETTER BE ASHAMED OF YA SELVES.” He acts as if he’s scolding you guys on the way back to the living room.

“Why did you have to get the chill parent” you groaned as Armando laughs.

“You really are in some shit but I’m here for you.” He kisses your hand.

You both got ready and headed to the living room for the inevitable.

Your dad motioned you to sit on the couch while everyone stood around you. Armando sat next to you and held your hand and Marcus looked like he was gonna throw up.

“Now how the fuck did this motherfucker get these” he waved the Polaroids around.

Aw fuck. I thought he just found out we fucked not that we met prior.

“I-“

“You wasn’t busy study bones and shit?! I don’t get it do you just like trouble?! I thought your frontal lobe developed already!”

“CAN YOU LET ME TALK?!”

The room went silent.

“It happened. I was bored and I just did it okay? I’m sorry but I love him. I understand I could have met someone completely different and dangerous but I met Armando. I regret nothing. Plus you ain’t say shit when Mike kissed me before I left for college”

“HE WHAT?!” Marcus and Armando was ready to fight.

Uh oh …..

Taglist: @yeahnohoneybye @cardi-bre91 @onlysarang @romanreignsluver1 @minwn

@armandosbabymama @dyttomori @bbyplutosblog @vergilnelosparda @believeinthefireflies95

@ebsmind @hopetookourvibe @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @poppetbaby02 @bitchyglittersuit @marley1773

@jacobscipioswoman @sunrisesfromthewest

@midnightheat @ky44

[onyourhyuck]

LOWKEY. | N.JM

— Prologue: “I like what we have.”

— Summary: You and Jaemin are best friends but behind the close doors you have a lowkey relationship that no one knows about.

— Genre: Fwb smut. Best friends to secret fwbs. Suggestive and soft sex. Lazy sex. Pussy eating. Jaemin loves Y/n’s thighs so much.

— Notes: Lazy sex honestly hits differently.

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One word to describe you and Jaemin? Lowkey.

You’re best friends everyone knows that. People can mutually agree that you and Jaemin are close friends nothing else but what you know is the opposite. Behind the close doors you’re the one spread wide open for your best friend letting him have a taste as much as he wants.

Behind those close doors lies a secret that no one else knows except you and Jaemin.

And it excites you because you love what you have with him. It’s a secret only you and him have. Nothing else matters when you’re alone together by yourself with your true, true selves. You don’t have to pretend you guys don’t want one another when you equally want each other.

Jaemin doesn’t have to bullshit his way out to say you’re only a friend when in reality he knows how your lips tastes. He knows the chapstick flavour you use. He knows you like to mismatch your underwear and he thinks it’s wonderful you do.

Or the fact that you have a these mood swings when you wake up and he isn’t in bed with you. He knows that you love to cuddle someone or something to fall asleep otherwise you want go to sleep.

He knows things ‘friends’ wouldn’t usually know.

Right now you’re lazing with Jaemin on the bed. Your arms are wrapped around him and he has the same arms wrapped around your body together, you guys are in the most comfortable position you don’t even need to move to get comfortable because Jaemin’s chest was the perfect pillow substitute. And you were a cute little baby wrapped in between the forearms as he looks down at you cuddling you even closer because being close to you simply wasn’t close enough for him. You’re staying over at Jaemin’s house today. He told you to come over because he missed you and who were you to say no to that?

You ran out the door the moment you read the ‘I miss you’ text and then arrived at his doorstep the next second.

You’re keeping this so lowkey your parents don’t even know or your mutual friends aren’t suspecting anything which is fine. Because when you’re alone with Jaemin you feel like you don’t need anyone else.

You see your best friend looking down at you and he gives you a little kiss on your forehead at the centre as your bangs were in the way of your eyes he slowly wipes them upwards with his thumb. He takes his gently time to swipe them back so he can look at your face without having your hairs in the way. You enjoy seeing how soft he can actually be. You’re just lazily laying there trapped between his tight embrace as if he was never going to ever let you go.

You let a small smile, watching the sinewy beautiful boy in front of you. “Jaemin you might suffocate me if you keep squeezing me and kissing me right here.” He wore a white tee shirt short sleeves and the black hair very loose and soft. It looks like a bunch of cotton candy to you or at least that’s how his hair feels like to you. It’s very soft. You’ve never touched anything soft as this. Jaemin’s bare face was also, extremely handsome you wonder if you’re gazing into a real life prince.

Your best friend playfully frowns and kissed your forehead again. “Hmm one more?” He asked you and you feel your eyebrows raise up. “Okay, one more.” Jaemin went for another kiss but then he just goes and pampers your entire face with kisses; he attacks your forehead with his lips, your cheeks, your eyelids that are closed, your chin and jawline. He even kissed your ears and the sides of your neck now. You feel so overwhelmed by how fast he kissed you in all those different places. At the same time they were soft and sweet too.

Jaemin’s very much affectionate when he’s alone with you like this and he feels so safe with you.

You let out a soft laugh. “You said one more, that was at least like seven times.” He heard you say this and he smirks softly leaning up and staring at your eyes a little bit.

Jaemin shifts on top of you hovering above as he stares down at your beautiful face and he’s practically taunting your lips wanting to kiss them. No. He needs to kiss them.

Jaemin’s silvery and husky voices has you hyperventilating at times because it’s so deep and soft with love and adoration for you. “I wasn’t counting, to me that felt like one kiss.” Jaemin retorts back to you running his fingers through your hair that feels so warm.

You want to tell him that he was in fact counting he just didn’t want to say he wasn’t. You know at times Jaemin can be very smug.

When the time closes the both you found yourselves in a lazy makeout. It starts of slow and low on energy. There’s no extra movements, no extra efforts put into the kiss. It’s just lazy kisses that can make your skin crawl and your heart run wild.

The lazy makeouts while he’s on top of your softly brushing his thumb across your inner cheek makes you melt like a puddle in middle of the Highway.

You didn’t even realise that you’re making out with him with slight more I resistant intensity now. The lazy makes-out went from zero to a whopping hundred when Jaemin began to brush his tongue within the seconds of the kiss growing more and more frisky between the two of you.

Your bodies get even closer. You sat up on the bed as Jaemin did the same. He sat up to pull you closer by your waist and the kiss not once broke off between the both of your faces. He caressed you and your body feels warmer in response to how good this all feels. It feels like you’re going to explode into something that will have you squealing with excitement and joy for him.

Your heart picks up a rate when Jaemin slips his hands around your shirt and slowly takes it off, your eyes were closed in that moment as you’re focusing in giving everything you have in the kiss you’re sharing with your best friend.

Jaemin didn’t waste a minute to pull you back down and lay you in the same position as previously you were in. He breaks it off as he looks into your eyes longingly.

He needs you, so bad.

“I don’t want to move, but I need you so bad.” Jaemin whispers brushing your hair and tucks it behind your ears.

You look at him understanding what he meant. He was feeling like lazing around with you and being in bed with him was such a good comfort thing to do. You don’t feel like moving too much either so instead you just kiss his lips a little and the sides of his neck.

“We can keep it lowkey.” You whisper. “I like what we have.” You’re reassuring him because you want him to know you feel the same as he does.

He doesn’t need to put too much effort. Jaemin smiles liking your answer and he found it appealing to him because you just know the right words to say everytime he needs you.

His hands tug on your sweatpants, which are his but you’re wearing them at times now. Whenever you come over you tend to take his clothes with you. Jaemin slips them down to your ankles and he reconnects his hands around your thighs. Jaemin kissed your knee and then your thighs he loves so much. They’re just the perfect size and if anything he sometimes wished you’d suffocate him around them. They’re so warm too, probably the warmest place around your body if you don’t count your breasts.

Jaemin won’t do anything too much effort but he will do enough to pleasure you and him at the same time. He doesn’t even need to get any pleasure to stimulate him because him pleasuring you was a way of giving him a better pleasure anyways.

He always finds your pleasure to be the most thrilling. It turns him on. It makes him satisfied.

Your hands prickle at his hair when Jaemin lowers the head down picking at your panties he slips them off and then, he takes an admiring look between your legs at your regional central. Jaemin saw how much your pussy looks to be begging to him at this point you’re anticipating it hard.

The moment you feel your best friends mouth open and touch at your clit giving it a little kitten lick you feel your eyes clench. Jaemin works his eyes down at your pussy not even bothering to look at your face right now because he’s too focused on giving you the best but low effort pleasure yet. Your body was very loose and relaxed because of all the cuddling you did with him earlier.

When his tongue laps around your two folds perking up at the erecting pleasure you feel his hands gently knead and fold around your inner thighs, he squeezes them at every lick he does at your cunt or when he wants to give you a little more of a harder time he shifts and sucks longer at your clit by using his teeth light to graze over, like a canon shooting out balls of pleasure at your body.

Sure, you don’t have a label with Jaemin. You say you’re best friends but you’re clearly more than that. But at the same time you wouldn’t say you’re boyfriend and girlfriend. It’s like you don’t have a label but you’re so comfortable being like this with him you don’t mind it.

At the end of the day labels don’t matter right? As long as you have Jaemin and he has you, that’s all that matters to the both of you.

And none of you would swap it for the world.

Your face cannot hide the pleasures that the boy down below was giving you and giving only you. It was something you cannot control because your eyebrows flutter like a pair of blooming Iris’ whenever he tastes you even more like he’s been imprisoned for decades or centuries.

The seeping tongue coursing through your insides and your clit makes your body skyrocket and sluggish with more this continues and Jaemin drags his mouth like a landmark on a map.

He traced his tongue down even further as his fingers made little progress between your smooth skin caressing your beautiful inner thighs and upwards up the pelvis, and right above your hips he gave a tight living squeeze as Jaemin’s breath began to pour against your cunt.

The room was filled with your sigh’s or your own running thoughts you spoke when the pleasure got too much.

You were allowed to say whatever you wanted because this was yours and Jaemin’s safe place. No one can see your relationship behind the closed doors because this was lowkey.

He wasn’t doing much effort yet he made you tremble by the lewd pulsing indulges the mouth was gaping at your watering hole, with the whole world behind the door not knowing a single thing that your best friend was eating you out like no tomorrow, and you love it, you love it so much you don’t want it to ever stop.

It was so mollifyingly beautiful, to see you look so spread out for him and taking everything Jaemin gave you because you’re such an amazing girl who listens to what he’s willing to do for you.

It’s times like these he’s the most grateful for you. You let him relax and be himself. He doesn’t have to do much to please you and you’re appreciative.

Jaemin of course does so much for you. He goes the extra length for you in anything.

The pleasure enhanced by the second, your eyes open now and you staring at the ceiling as your mouth escapes out your begs — oh how sweet your begs make Jaemin so weak and drunk on your sweet sweet darling cunt.

“J-Jaemin… I’m… so close, I don’t think I can last, Jaemin…” you repeat his name, in such short threats you feel him diving even more into your sating pretty pearl that he rubs his tongue on your perky lips down below contouring your pleasure.

Your nub was so abused by the boy below hungrily burning his mouth on the space between your spread legs.

One quick thrust from his mouth all at once had your orgasm reaching a certain high level of speed rushing out of your lips.

Jaemin saw you rasping at the bedsheets as your legs sent miniature spams and he saw your thighs jig around between the intensifying orgasm running wild at your stomach you sucked in.

The boy held your thighs down pushing your body against the bed when your body went to arch forward off the bedsheets. He made sure to force you back down as Jaemin didn’t move backwards, no, he stayed and pushed his tongue further more inside until he had all the taste of you.

“Ah.. ahhh fuck…”

Your hips buckle forward doing a little dry hump against your best friend’s mouth as he was making you cry from how good this feels.

Jaemin hums against your sex with tiny purrs leaving his beautiful plum lips looking so kissable. Moving away from your cunt he looks up at you seeing how well you took all his mouth provided, and you’re not left slightly breathing abnormally as it leaves your oxygen levels decreasing.

The blood rushing to your head and your cheeks was a visible sign that you were feeling better, now that you came on his mouth and Jaemin loves the taste of you too.

“Hmm… you taste so good, so fucking good.” He whispers as he leaves his face away from your sex and slowly looks at you with lambing eyes at your flushed face.

The cloying nature of the situation catches up to the both of you and it didn’t take long until he laid down next to you and you wrap your arms around his chest as you lay next to one another.

None of you said anything else but your eyes spoke words to each other that your lips could never achieve to rejuvenate.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates. It helps a girl out <3