#he'd have to learn from. jeong jeong.

[bakedbeanchan]

AU where Zuko doesn't practice helmet safety

[yara0546]

The heartbeat of a dream | Jeong Jaehyun

Pairing: actor!Jeong Jaehyun x female!reader

word count: 2.5k word.

Genre: fluff، relationship.

Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any grammatical errors, because I sometimes use a translator in some sentences.

Masterlist

The bustling film set buzzed with controlled chaos.  Cameras whirred, crew members scurried, and the air crackled with a nervous energy that was both thrilling and slightly overwhelming.  I clutched the insulated lunch bag, its contents  Jaehyun's favorite bibimbap  carefully nestled inside, a small offering of comfort amidst the whirlwind.  This was my first time visiting him on set, and the sheer scale of the operation was breathtaking.

I'd navigated the maze of trailers and equipment with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.  My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the frenetic pace around me.  I'd texted Jaehyun earlier, letting him know I was here, but the sheer volume of people made finding him feel like searching for a needle in a haystack.

Finally, I spotted him.  He was in the midst of a scene, his expression intense, his movements fluid and captivating.  Even from a distance, his charisma was undeniable.  He was effortlessly handsome, even when sweat beaded on his forehead and his hair was slightly dishevelled.  The character he portrayed, a brooding, conflicted detective, seemed to suit him perfectly.

The scene ended with a flourish, and the director called for a break.  I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.  As he approached, his eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, held a hint of exhaustion.  The weight of the role, the pressure of the production, it all seemed to rest on his shoulders.

"Jagiya," he breathed, his voice a soft melody that cut through the surrounding noise.  His embrace was warm and comforting, a haven from the storm of the set.  He smelled faintly of sweat and something subtly floral – his cologne, perhaps.

"I brought you lunch," I said, holding out the bag.  His smile, when he saw it, was worth more than any award.

"My angel," he murmured, his fingers brushing against mine as he took the bag.  He opened it carefully, his eyes widening at the sight of his favorite dish.

We found a quiet corner, tucked away from the hustle and bustle.  He ate with gusto, his usual elegant demeanor replaced by a contented sigh with each mouthful.  We talked  about the scenes he'd filmed, the challenges he faced, the small joys that punctuated his day.  He told me about a particularly difficult scene, his frustration palpable, and I listened, offering words of encouragement, a silent shoulder to lean on.

The break ended too soon.  He had to return to the set, his face regaining the intensity of his character.  Before he left, he held my hand, his thumb caressing my knuckles.

"Thank you for coming," he whispered, his eyes filled with a depth of gratitude that made my heart swell.  "It means the world to me."

I watched him walk away, his presence still radiating warmth even from a distance.  The chaotic energy of the set seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the quiet contentment of having shared a small moment of peace with the man I loved.  The journey back home felt lighter, my heart filled with the memory of his smile, the scent of his cologne lingering faintly on my clothes.  It was a day filled with unexpected encounters, a day that reaffirmed the depth of our connection, a day that proved that even amidst the whirlwind of life, love could find a quiet corner to flourish.

➽──────────────❥

The following days were a blur of activity.  I continued to visit Jaehyun on set, bringing him lunch, a small act of love amidst the chaos.  I learned to navigate the set with more confidence, recognizing familiar faces, understanding the unspoken language of the crew.  I even found myself chatting with some of the staff, discovering their own stories, their own passions.

One day, I stumbled upon a quiet corner where Jaehyun was practicing his lines.  He was completely absorbed in his character, his voice low and intense, his movements precise and powerful. Watching him, I gained a new appreciation for his dedication, his commitment to his craft.

Another day, I saw him interacting with the child actor who played his son in the drama.  His demeanor was completely different  playful, gentle, filled with an almost paternal warmth.  It was a side of him I rarely saw, a glimpse into his capacity for love and compassion.

These behind the scenes moments revealed a different side of Jaehyun the vulnerability beneath the polished exterior, the dedication that fueled his passion, the compassion that touched the lives of those around him.  It was a privilege to witness these moments, to be a part of his world, even in a small way.  My visits weren't just about bringing him lunch; they were about sharing a piece of my life with him, about supporting him in his dreams, about being a constant in his ever-changing world.  And in turn, he shared his world with me, revealing a depth and complexity that only those closest to him could witness.  The experience transformed my understanding of him, deepened my love, and enriched my life in ways I never anticipated.

➽──────────────❥

One afternoon, while waiting for Jaehyun to finish a scene, I found myself chatting with the director, a kind, older man with a twinkle in his eye.  He’d been observing me for a while, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

"You're a lucky woman," he said, his voice low and thoughtful.  "Jaehyun doesn't often let people see this side of him."

I blushed, my heart fluttering at his words.  "He's amazing," I replied, my voice barely a whisper.

He chuckled, a warm, comforting sound.  "He is.  He pours his heart and soul into his work.  But he also needs someone to ground him, someone to remind him of the world outside the cameras."

His words resonated deeply.  I realized that my role wasn't just about bringing him lunch; it was about providing him with a sense of normalcy, a connection to the life he cherished beyond the demanding world of acting.

Later that day, a surprise visitor arrived on set – Jaehyun’s mother.  She was a warm, elegant woman, her eyes filled with pride as she watched her son work.  She greeted me warmly, her smile as radiant as the sun.  We spent the afternoon chatting, sharing stories about Jaehyun, discovering shared memories and unspoken connections.  It was a beautiful moment, a testament to the love and support that surrounded him.

Jaehyun’s mother’s visit added another layer to my understanding of him.  It was a glimpse into his family life, his roots, the foundation upon which his success was built.  It reinforced the importance of my role in his life – not just as a lover, but as a constant source of support and understanding, a connection to the life he held dear.

That evening, as Jaehyun and I walked hand-in-hand towards his car, the city lights twinkling around us, he turned to me, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity.

"Thank you," he said, his voice soft but firm.  "For everything."

His words were simple, yet they held a depth of meaning that resonated within me.  It wasn't just about the lunches, or the visits, or the quiet moments shared on set.  It was about the unwavering support, the unconditional love, the quiet strength I offered him amidst the chaos of his demanding career.  It was about being his anchor, his refuge, his safe harbor in a world that often felt turbulent and unpredictable.  And in that moment, I knew that my role in his life was far more significant than I had ever imagined.

➽──────────────❥

The final day of filming arrived too quickly.  The atmosphere on set was bittersweet – a mixture of exhaustion, relief, and a touch of sadness.  Everyone was working hard, but there was a palpable sense of anticipation for the wrap party.

I brought Jaehyun his final lunch – a simple but elegant Korean stew, a comfort food to celebrate the end of a long journey.  He ate it slowly, savoring each bite, his eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and exhaustion.

The wrap party was a vibrant affair, filled with laughter, congratulations, and a sense of camaraderie.  Jaehyun was surrounded by his cast and crew, his face beaming with genuine happiness.  He raised a toast, thanking everyone for their hard work and dedication.  His speech was heartfelt, his words expressing gratitude and appreciation for the team that had helped him bring his character to life.

As the party wound down, Jaehyun and I found ourselves standing alone, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance.  He took my hand, his touch gentle yet firm.

"It's over," he said, his voice soft, a hint of melancholy in his tone.  "But it's also a new beginning."

I smiled, my heart filled with a mixture of emotions.  The end of the drama marked a significant milestone in his career, but it also meant a return to a more normal life, a life we would share together.

"I'm proud of you," I said, my voice filled with genuine admiration.  "You were amazing."

He smiled, his eyes sparkling with happiness.  "And I'm grateful for you," he replied, his voice low and tender.  "For being my anchor, my support, my love, through it all."

As we walked hand in hand towards our car, the city lights illuminating our path, I knew that our journey together was far from over.  This chapter had ended, but a new one was just beginning, a chapter filled with the promise of love, laughter, and a future filled with shared dreams.  The memory of his dedication, his passion, his vulnerability, and the quiet moments we shared on set, would forever be etched in my heart, a testament to the enduring power of love and support.

[amoristt]

trust i seek, and i find in you | pt3

part 1 (x) . part 2 (x)

「 ✦ seong gi-hun / reader ✦ 」

tags: sfw // lots of death ment, angstttt bro, like so much, sad gi-hun </3, a/n: sorry for the super shorter chapter next one is the finale <3 ik im changing the events of the actual show but let me live i needed a bridge to the finale!!!!!!!!! ugh i so sad its almost done already

All the mattresses had disappeared. 

All but two. 

The dormitory feels impossibly large, now. The piggy bank dangles from the ceiling with banded paper threatening to spill over the edges, mounting at the brims, hanging fat and heavy. You refuse to look at it, so it laughs at you instead. Taunts you. There may as well have been blood, bone, and souls stirring about in that tank, the money tainted with the lives of your friends, the lives of the struggling. 

There was no prize. Not anymore. 

You’d almost paired with Gi-hun for the marbles game. His hands had found you, wrapped around your arm the moment that voice overhead announced that the game would be played in pairs. His hands on you were like fish to water- knowing, promising. Housing. But then in the distance as the timer closed in you saw Il-nam crouched on his own, watching blurry bodies skate him by, seeking stronger, seeking better. You saw the former version of yourself in all of them. 

If there was a moment you’d be acutely aware of how much Gi-hun had changed you, this would be it. 

You'd spent your entire life waiting for something, someone, worth changing for.

So when Gi-hun turned towards you, those eyes full of empathetic guilt, you already knew what coming. Beat him to it, infact. 

“It’s okay. I’ll see you after, yeah?” You’d murmured despite the way this heavy weight had settled in your chest. Worry, anxiety, all because you would have to be without. 

He kissed your forehead in thanks. You lingered on it for much too long.

“You will.”

And then he was gone, reaching a hand out to to the old man and bringing him to his wobbly feet. Gi-hun was special like that. Always giving and never taking. Not even when he deserved it. You like to think he'd learned from his previous lifestyle, to be the hand that provided, and not the hand that stole.

There was a quick grasp to your hand and low and behold, 212 filled your vision. A much less pleasant view. Her shrill voice brought an ache to your temples, a burn to your skin where she grasped you tight. Sure, you needed a partner, and she knew that. Must have watched your interaction with Gi-hun like a damn vulture and swooped in the second there was room. 

There was a moment when she'd looked at you like you were her saving grace, and for just a second, you'd wondered if maybe all this exterior roughness was just a front. But then, she had to go and ruin it with her words once again.

“Who needs men anyways,” She’d harped. “If he wants to die with that old guy, so be it, huh?”

You ripped yourself away from her like you’d been scalded. She didn’t know the first thing about either of them, and you’d be damned if you would ever put your lives in the hands of hers. Even if you saw yourself in her. Even if she was just trying to survive.

But it was so hard to pity her when those comments seemed to always fill your mouth with bitter. You sought elsewhere.

And you found it- in player 068. He seemed normal enough, albeit noticeably standoffish, moving through the motions with a blank stare, enough determination on those features to bring you comfort- to fail you would be to fail himself. You remembered this sense of unease going into a new challenge blind and relying on a total stranger. 

You remembered how you nearly lost what little breakfast you were provided on the dirt floor when the game was announced. This wasn’t teams- it was rivalry. A versus match. 

Images of your friends flashed through your racing mind. You swore you would have a heart attack.

Ali and Sang-woo. Sae-Byeok and Yi-Jeong. 

Gi-hun and Il-nam.

You were crying before your own game even started. 068 didn’t question it, but you could see the way he studied you, unsure of you. Wondering just what you were doing crying in front of a fellow competitor playing games for your lives. Grief struck you before you even knew who to cry over. 

The initial impression you’d had of him was almost dead on- he was determined. But he wasn’t so closed off as you had thought him to be, that stoic face and even tone masking a much warmer person underneath. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to ask him his name. He didn’t ask you yours, either. 

It was hard to focus on the game. Every turn a step closer to death. Every gunshot the reminder that you may never see your friends again. But, round by round, you managed. When he was on his last marble, you cried even harder. If you from just a week ago, leery eyed, shifty handed and as selfish as the dark over light, you wouldn’t understand the depth of your own sorrow. You’d won, after all. Wiped a player off the board to propel yourself, your life, your wants over his. You’d surely have been proud of yourself.

But now, you just feel like a fucking monster.

To be loved, is to be changed.

To be changed, is to suffer.

You were always good at these types of games. You thought, maybe, by letting him choose the game, it would make the pill easier to gag down. You found, however, it really didn't. From the very second the games started, when he’d made his choice and it was one you were highly familiar with, guilt had already begun to stockpile up in the warehouses of your heart. Box after box. Taking up space, filling you to the brim. 

“I used to play this with my mom,” He’d said, mind escaping to a better time even if just a moment when he’d picked. “I got pretty good at it.”

You wished he hadn’t said that. It was all you could think about when he, with shaking hands and a pale to his face, handed over his last marble. Crestfallen, hopeless. The image of him as a spirited child and soft hands playing marbles with a faceless mother made you sick to your stomach.

You said something you didn’t think would ever see the daylight of your lips. 

“I’m sorry.”

And he, with slumped shoulders and his head hung low. “I know.”

You were escorted away, and you knew deep in the bowels of your heart that you were going to hear that gunshot in your dreams. Following you, watching you. Haunting you for the rest of your life. 

However long that was, anyways. 

The room you were led to was large and bathed in pure white, absent of anything particularly eye catching. There were already people standing about, some with their heads held high, others struggling with the weight of guilt so heavy it threatened to crush you all under its umbrella. Sang-woo’s eyes found you before anyone else's, his expression strained, his red-lined eyes betraying his all-business exterior. It made it hard to breathe. 

Sae-Byeok shared the sentiment. Distant, far away. Trying to figure out how to cope now bearing the hands of cruelty towards someone worth caring about. 

Then, you saw him. Gi-hun. And his angular cheeks are soaked with tears. When his eyes meet yours, a lance of relief has you letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, but there’s no room for much else. Grief burrowed and dug it’s way in, seized the joy and ate it whole. Il-nam’s passing wasn’t an easy loss to digest. Partly because the old man had meant something to you. Mostly because Gi-hun would never forgive himself. He’d left a piece of himself lying on that dirt, counting marbles and talking with his gganbu. 

You crept to his side and took his hand in your own. All he could offer was a squeeze in return.

You could still see 068 behind your eyes. How he hadn’t been angry with you, how he watched you walk away before dropping to the ground. Never to return home, never to be found. The walls felt like they were both growing larger and also closing in. You were struggling to grapple with it all. 

Gi-hun was still back there with the old man as you were all escorted back to the dormitories where they passed out measly potatoes and water. Still back there when you’d all sat among the beds now found far and few between, picking at your meals with your bellies full on remorse. 

Gi-hun couldn’t bring himself to eat. Sae-Byeok struggled to get past the second bite. You yourself just found it easier to roll the potato around in your hands, balancing the weight of it, wondering if you could ever be forgiven. Gi-hun’s knee bumped against yours, a reminder that he was still there, even if his expression was as blank as a canvas. You needn’t ask to understand what he was thinking about, lost in it. 

“Don’t make a big deal out of it, they were just people you’d met here.” Sand-woo had said, almost finished with his meager meal. Talking to himself, justifying himself, but everyone could feel it- Ali’s absence was like a solar eclipse. You followed his line of sight to 069, sitting in a heap of desolation on one of the only mattresses left. Sang-woo swallowed hard. “That man’s partner was his wife.”

You breath left you like a ghost as you took in the sight of the poor man, struck and swimming with grief. 

Gi-hun cried that night. Though it was silent, muted tears gathering at the point of his jaw before soaking into his tracksuit, you could feel his shoulder trembling with each inaudible sob. He trembled apart in your hold and you tucked him into yourself, cradled his body and kissed his forehead just as he'd taught you as if it would heal him. His fingers found you in the darkness and held tight, just as needing as how you clutched him. Your heart ached, seismic pains ringing from every nerve in your body, drawing you in despair. 

Every time you dozed off, you swore you could hear a gunshot cutting through the humidity of turmoil. You swore you’d see 068’d face. 

Maybe if you hadn’t met Gi-hun, you’d have taken all of this mess in stride like 101. You hated him- despised his cruelty and his jeers, but ultimately he went to sleep that night with a full stomach and dreaming of fat stacks of bloodied cash. Meanwhile, you stared at the ceiling and barely registered the way your stomach growled at you. It felt just. Perhaps if you’d sought help elsewhere that first day, you could sleep. 

But, you didn’t. So now, you endured. 

069’s cries did not go unnoticed, either, from his bed now entirely too cold to withstand.

It was tough to imagine the suffering, the pure guilt so true and down to it’s very root that it grew it’s sprawling limbs of misery and woe into every crevice. Under every stone, over the sky, from the tip of his nose to the soles of his heavy feet. The human body was not designed to bear such suffering. It curled in itself, emptied itself of all things good. Hollowed from the inside out. 

So much so, that when you’d found out the next morning that the man had taken his own life, you weren’t sure how there was anything left of himself to hang. 

How you take anymore of this? When there was already so little left. 

That day, you discovered that the pits of rock bottom were merely roadblocks. 

The glass bridge took everything. Taught you that even when you believed your cup had run dry of tears, there would never be an end to the bottomless waterfalls in your eyes. There would never be a suffering so consuming and total that it would simply stop there. 

Everyone had died except you and Gi-hun. 

The finalists. 

The piggy bank grinned with teeth and malice. Reminded you of what you had done. What you had witnessed, and how you had survived off the backs of your former competitors. 

You were fed and suited. Given a real meal, something you'd have fought tooth and nail for nail for back home. It tasted like despair. 

All you could see were the fleeting images of Sang-woo crashing through the glass in his desperate attempt to cross the bridge and leap to the platform as the timer ticked away the seconds of his lifespan. He’d tried to grab the bars as he went, fingers slipping off the metal and sending him plummeting to the ground. You, Sae-Byeok, and Gi-hun barely managed to jump to safety as the bridge combusted into fireworks of glass and shards, showering your fallen friend meters down below. 

You think a piece of Gi-hun fell with him. You think Gi-huns left pieces of himself everywhere, now. Back with Il-nam lying sprawled in the dirt, down in the bellows of the pit with Sang-woo mangled and broken. You’re not entirely sure how whole you are anymore, either. 

When the guards lead the way out, you had to take Gi-hun’s hand in your own just to get him moving. 

Sae-Byeok didn’t survive the walk back to the dorms after your pointless meals. One moment, she was there. Quiet as always, somber. Maybe if you’d have known she was bleeding out, you could have done something. The next moment, she was dropping like a stone, and she bled, and bled, and bled. 

There wasn’t much to remember after that. Just a blur of outcries and the desperate, pleading demands that they save her. You’d both pounded on the doors, wrenching at the knobs, begging for them to do something until you were both blue in the face and sliding down the door in exhaustion. 

No one answered, and the lights flickered out down to the same minute second as they always had. 

With no one other than Gi-hun at your side, there wasn’t reason to concern yourself with watching each other's backs. You don’t think either of you had the energy for it even if you had, running empty tanks and affliction. All you found yourself able to do was lay beside him and beg God for a different way. A different path. Anything other than the way you were headed. You’d be different, this time, you promised. You’d do right. No more stealing, or cheating, or fighting for just the scraps at the end of the table. You wouldn’t take this life for granted any longer if he just please saved you both. Pull your sorry souls from the fire and let you start anew.

His arms are wrapped around you and his face inches away. Now, truer than ever, there was nothing but him. 

Gi-hun's voice is soft. “We will both leave here. I promise you."

The red lights of the surveillance cameras blink from every corner in the darkness. 

You tried to believe him over all else.

“I’m scared.” You whispered. He kisses the top of your head. An all healing ailment. Your lower lip quivers. 

So, he kisses your nose. And then your cheek. The corner of your mouth. You found the sides of his face in the darkness like you’d done it your entire life, and you press your lips against his. His hands splay over your back, and he drags you in.

[ihavenothingtodo10220]

Jeong Jungkook NSFW reading

Quick PSA: I'm still going to do all the requests, this post is just kind of a test drive for a new format I want to try since the other really isn't doing it for me. So, yeah. Usual disclaimers to be added.

Position Overview

Many people say Jungkook gives off submissive and breedable boyfriend vibes from his chart, but with Jungkook's Libra Venus being a Cardinal Sign, he likes to be in a position of power in the relationship, or at least likes some kind of aspect of power play. And then with his Scorpio Mars, he definitely likes things to be done his way, playing more into the position of power thing. And then his Virgo Lilith definitely gives me the vibes that he's very playful in all aspects, including the bedroom. Though he's hard to hold onto, and with his heavy Virgo influences in general, leads me to leave he may have some fuckboy tendencies. Playful and hard to hold onto? I dunno.

His Virgo Sun definitely makes it so he'd try anything once, but if he doesn't like it he'll be very vocal about that. He'll also be brutally honest and critical, even in bed. Definitely vocal about thoughts and opinions even if balls deep in you. (Or the other way around who knows? Not me.) But he'll also tell you his needs, how you're doing, etc., etc. He also needs to make sure things are clean and you're clean. In more ways than one. I'm talking he needs to make sure you have recent tests for STDs before even TOUCHING you.

Heavy on his Scorpio Mars, as that indicates he'll have a high sex drive. Most definitely rearing to go almost always, and insatiable in a way though not as much as an Aries Mars would be. Has a lot of intensity and depth sexually. Definitely enjoys power and wants to break a lot of taboos. He's probably willing to do almost anything and enjoys full-body pleasures. On the flip side, he may show his need for control by being unavailable and just not having sex at all for long periods, definitely making you beg for it and giving in only when he thinks you deserve it. Whatever his nature, he will have a way that promises commitment and intensity in bed. He'll be provocative but private, and most definitely will never kiss and tell. Sex is intimate and personal for him, but his fantasies are full-ranging. Out of this world.

With his Libra Venus, he takes a lot of care to please his partners. He needs to make sure he's getting everything right, and giving just as much as he takes despite enjoying servicing you. Definitely into role-play, and most definitely likes learning and improving in the bedroom. Learning new things, changing, and growing sexually? Count him in. He'll definitely be very very picky and particular when it comes to the mood during sex.

Now, he has a Gemini Eros. Very very sexually. He likes to be knowledgeable in sexual matters and is probably turned on by words in all forms, whether written or spoken. Definitely writes letters to the person he's with, and is definitely a fan of sexting and phone sex. Because it is difficult for him to turn his mind off even sex, there is a voyeur within him during sexual expression, and it may be difficult for him to let go. Definitely enjoys talking, and being talked to, during sex. He puts a lot of weight into communications. Definitely a fan of full communication and very clear boundaries and consent during sex. Consent is sexy, especially with him.

So, with his Libra Venus, definitely likes asses. I'm talking about spanking, just squeezing the ass, etc., etc. Asses are the Libra erogenous zone. And with Scorpio? Literally everywhere on his body is sensitive and ripe for the taking. A few touches and caresses here and there will definitely get him going. And then his Virgo Stellium makes his torso especially sensitive. Especially his stomach and waistline. And then his fucking Gemini Eros means he also is sensitive at the arms. Kind of like light touches. Ghosting your fingers up and down his arms is a sure fire way to pique his interest.

His Virgo Mercury definitely means he's very focused in bed. Also very efficient and methodical when it comes to communication with his partner when it comes to sex. Always saying things like "Is this good for you, baby?" "Does this feel good?" "Keep going, just like that..." Essentially, he's going to communicate very straightforwardly, very bluntly, and very efficiently. He's going to make his opinions known, and he's not going to sugar-coat SHIT.

With his Aquarius Jupiter, he definitely can detach when it comes to sex, even though he'd prefer a strong emotional attachment. He can also view sex as a way to help build that emotional relationship and intimacy with someone. In relationships, he will also be prone to using sex as a way to communicate. Having problems? Sex. Basically, expect a lot of makeup sex, angry sex (From arguments), etc., etc.

With his Saturn in Aries I definitely see a lot of impatience. Now, not to say he would just breeze through foreplay and get down and dirty as soon as possible like an Aries Mars would, but that he want to at least start foreplay as soon as possible. Definitely can be very whiney because of it when mixed with his other aspects. This also makes him the type to take risks, especially in the bedroom. Do with that what you will.

House Placements

So, the eighth house represents emotional bonding and intimacy sexually. With his sun and moon in the eighth house, and his sun representing his core personality, sense of self, basic preferences, romantic compatibility, and just in general how he goes about the world, and his sun being in Virgo, this can mean he needs to know people on a much deeper level to be able to be with them sexually. He needs knowledge on them, so definitely more he wouldn't have flings but would have casual friends with benefits. There also needs to be a level of care. His Virgo moon in the eighth house confirms it. There need to be deep, intense emotions in that bond. Also, someone he can understand well.

Aspects

So, with his moon octile Venus he definitely needs a lot of communication, and will both be very vocal and would like a very vocal partner. He also needs someone he's comfortable with. Though...I also feel his purely sexual relationships are superficial and to boost self-esteem, even if he still needs that intimacy in them.

With his Mercury Novile Venus, he's very charming and courteous, including in bed. Definitely still the type to shower you in praise in bed, charm the pants off you and they're already on the damn floor. He also makes sure you're enjoying it too. Especially because it's a Libra Venus and Virgo Mercury. If it's good you'll sure as hell know it's good.

So he has a Venus semi-sextile Venus. Definitely need to watch out for sexual manipulation. What's the masculine version of Femme Fatale? Homme Fatale? THE POINT IS. Just...Watch out. Preferably.

With his Mars sextile Sun, he's definitely into any type of position or opportunity to show off how strong he is. Fucking you while standing? Thigh riding? Fucking you nice and hard? That's that good shit. He's also very competitive so he will MAKE SURE it's good for you. And if it's not? Well, he'll amp it up times one hundred. He's definitely got good stamina, meaning he can go for A WHILE. He also is good at controlling his desires, surprisingly. Mostly because his outwardness and his sexual desires are connected.

And then there's the Mars square Jupiter...Mars square Jupiter natal supplies strength, enthusiasm, courage, and sexual attraction. But he needs an outlet for this high energy. Usually, in the manner of fucking and fucking and fucking. Otherwise, restlessness can build up into aggressive, impulsive, or risky actions. But. this also needs to be safe, with a balance between caution and bravado. Definitely good in bed, I'll tell you that much.

Mercury sextile mars...Mmmm...How do I put this? He's...Fast. Fast as in, fucking jackhammering into you with the speed of the fucking flash and the strength of a battering ram from his other aspects. Definitely feisty. He'll have a fucking TONGUE on him let me tell you. He loves praise, but he'll sure as hell mix in some degradation in there because he can't not. Also seems the type to bully the hell out of you if it's not good. So there's that. Like absolutely demolish you verbally.

Moon conjunct Mercury definitely leads me to believe he's the type who can fall harder for someone during sex. Though again, he wouldn't have sex with someone he doesn't already have an existing emotional attachment to.

With his Sun conjunct Moon, again he has a lot of charisma. But he also has expectations that are high as hell, which is amplified by his Virgo stellium. Definitely expects the most from you in all aspects, including in the bedroom. The sex better be GOOD AS HELL or it won't meet his expectations.

Sun conjunct Mercury AGAIN makes him more dominant. Naturally wants to lead. Also very good with dirty talk, once again.

[nonclassyparty]

pretty on the outside [masterlist + preview]

summary:

just take off that disguise, everyone knows that you're only pretty on the outside

It's not a secret that you like to get around despite the trail of broken hearts you leave behind. Jeong Yunho, the sweetest prudish frat boy in the history of frat boys, is supposed to be just another guy you'd discard after you grew bored of him. Very soon, you realize you bit off more than you can chew and that Jeong Yunho might not be so easy to handle.

pairing: jeong yunho x reader, choi san x reader, mentions of past jung wooyoung x reader

status: work in progress

notes: *evil giggles* hello! enjoy the little preview of my new series that i'm working on (i will be using this post as a masterlist for it) and it won't be posted until i'm done with soot. it will have nine parts, if you'd like to be added to the taglist for it just reply below &lt;3

my main masterlist // playlist // moodboard // click to donate to Palestine

first chapter preview;

In his earliest surviving work of dramatic theory Poetics, Aristotle wrote, “A whole story is what has a beginning and middle and end.” This is not only fundamental to storytelling, it’s the closest reflection of an entire life cycle. It can be applied to anything in this life. Everything has a beginning, middle and end.

Which is why when San introduces you to his new girlfriend, you try not to be too bothered. Not only because it's his seventh new girlfriend this year but because, as all relationships, just like it had it's beginning and middle - it will have an end too.

Her name is Mijoo, her bleached hair is curled and looks slightly fried and the only thing that you've learned since she sat down with you is that her interests include pilates and taking care of her Instagram feed. They met at a frat party two weekends ago and hooked up in a stuffy room on the second floor, as romantic as it sounds.

San eats his lunch next to her while she scrolls through her phone and plays with her water bottle, looking absolutely unbothered that he barely knows his new girlfriend and seems like he has no intention of getting to know her better either. Hongjoong and you share a knowing look.

You can already tell that this is one of San's relationships where he calls it a relationship just so neither one of the parties participating feel like whores.

Still, the fact that he'd be in a relationship with just about anyone manages to leave a bitter taste in your mouth as you swallow down the last bite of your sandwich and clean your hands with a napkin.

You clear your throat, "I have to go. Have class in ten minutes."

San's head lifts up from the screen of his phone that he held in one hand as he ate, "You didn't answer if you're going to Vortex with us tonight?"

By 'us' he probably means him and his girlfriend and some of his other sleazy friends that he managed to make ever since he started going to the gym freshman year. It's definitely not Hongjoong because Hongjoong wouldn't be caught dead in a nightclub for college students that could only be classified as a dump.

You deadpanned, "It's a Wednesday."

San stares at you like he's not seeing the problem as Hongjoong snorts from next to you, "Like that's stopped you before."

You roll your eyes at him before looking back at San, trying not to dwell on the way his soft hair falls over his forehead. "I have my first midterm on Friday, so no."

"Ah, sucks." He says with a scrunched up nose and you look away quickly as you plaster on a smile that definitely looks sarcastic and a little sour.

"Well, see you guys later." You say, standing up and throwing your bag over your shoulder, "Bye."

San's new girlfriend gives you a sweet smile that makes you hate her.

You think about her and your own hypocrisy as you make your way to class. You barely spoke to her, she's done nothing to you and it's unfair to dislike her simply because she temporarily has...maybe the only person that you ever truly wanted but will never have.

You sigh as you pass through the door of the classroom that's already fairly filled out. The board stationed in the front filled out with a list of students attending the class, stops you in your tracks.

Partners assigned for Lab Exercise 1-3. is written in big bold letters at the top of the board.

You refrain yourself from rolling your eyes as you curse your professor who suggested this as an elective class. He said this class was a breeze to go through. Anything that has lab exercises is not a breeze.

Your eyes sweep over the list before they land on your own name. Y/L Y/N - Jeong Yunho, table 6.

Never heard of him, you think to yourself which isn't much of a surprise. The campus is huge, you'll always meet someone new.

Alas, you make your way to your designated table and are satisfied to find it empty which means you can slide to the seat near the window and hopefully make it know that it's your spot from now on.

You sit for the next ten minutes, scrolling down your phone and checking for your partner because almost all of the seats in the classroom are occupied by now and class is supposed to begin in two minutes. You'll be pissed if you have to do the first lab exercise alone.

Soon enough, a tall guy walking through the door a minute before the professor is supposed to show up catches your attention. He walks to the board, eyes roaming over it, he turns around and skims the classroom before his eyes stop on table labeled with a big number six and he makes eye contact with you.

You immediately look away through the window, trying to hide your grimace.

The guy, Jeong Yunho, even without ever meeting him before, looks undoubtedly like a frat boy.

A dark blue cap turned backwards sits on his head and his backpack hangs off of one shoulder. He's handsome in a boy-next-door type of way and tall. Definitely plays a sport of some sort (maybe soccer) judging by his broad shoulders and fit build. Frat boy and a jock. How boring.

"Hi." He greets you with a small smile that you return quietly with a squeamish smile as he sits down next to you. The smell of his cologne is instantly overwhelming. It's a smell that you can't describe as anything else except male and you feel like this is about to be the longest three weeks of your life. "I'm Yunho."

"Y/N." You say politely, again making eye contact with him that he tries his hardest to hold as he leans on the table by his elbows and his mouth quirks up. Oh God, here we go.

"I don't think I've ever seen you around, are you a Chemistry major as well and just new or is this your elective?" You blink at the question.

"Ah, yeah, this is an elective." You respond, glancing at the door again to see if the professor will show up soon. 

He hums, "The Chem branch is a really small circle here so everybody knows everybody by now, that's why I asked."

"Right." You blink at him again, observing this Jeong Yunho as he starts pulling out a notebook, calculator and a wide array of pens out of his backpack. The last frat boy you knew, Bangchan or Chris as they like to call him because his real name isn't sleazy enough, came to class with a pen and a folded piece of paper tucked in his back pocket.

So, maybe you're a little judgmental. Who isn't these days?

The class starts and Jeong Yunho continues to make you hide your surprise at him as he actively participates in the discussions. From what you can tell, he's very articulate and smart. 

That does absolutely nothing for you but still, it's a little surprising. 

Not because you think all frat boys and jocks are stupid or something (even though most are, you know from experience) but because the way he speaks and carries himself is nothing but respectful and nice and it just does not fit the stereotype. An hour in, you expected at least a crude joke during the presentation but it never came. Hm.

Since you were extremely competitive, you wanted nothing more than to beat him to answering the professor's questions but you knew jackshit about polymer chemistry so all you could do is sit, faintly annoyed, watching someone be better than you.

After class is done and you're packing your stuff while texting Yeosang, Yunho gently touches your elbow with his fingers to get your attention. You turn to him and he quickly withdraws his hand.

"Would you like to...uh, go work on the exercise at a coffee shop nearby? I think it would be good to get a head start since we're not yet busy with out other, actually important, classes." He chuckles before checking the watch around his wrist, "I have free time now."

You bite your lip, thinking it would probably be the smart thing to do but you were texting Yeosang. Making plans to see him. Scratch that, making plans to fuck him.

"Uh, how long would it take exactly? Just so I can organize the rest of my day-"

"Oh, well, I have practice at six-thirty so I was thinking until six." He shrugs, his backpack hanging over one shoulder and making him look like a poster for golden college boys. "Does that work for you?"

It works better than having to work on the exercises on other days of the week. It just means seeing Jeong Yunho more than necessary, one day a week is perfectly enough in his presence.

You bite your lip again, glancing at your screen one last time before texting Yeosang that you'll see him at seven. "Yeah, let's go."

Yunho leads you to a coffee shop near campus that you've never heard of. Hidden deep between buildings and almost entirely empty, there's no regular customers let alone anyone from campus.

"I study here sometimes if the library is full. Nobody comes here." He chuckles, holding the door open for you and motioning for you to go in. He almost seems shy to let you know that he goes to the library. It's, unfortunately, kind of cute.

After you both order and make yourself comfortable in the small booth you've picked out, you start to work on the assignment. Yunho leads the way, as a Chemistry major, he's much more well versed in this subject. You, a future engineer, are completely lost so you just scribble down whatever he does and keep quiet.

He likes to talk a lot, you notice, after every done question, he makes sure to ask about you, your interests, hobbies, whatever and you shut it down every time with a dry response.

It's not that you dislike him, really it's not. It's not even that he's a frat boy and a jock that bothers you anymore because it's obvious that he's a little bit of a nerd as well. It's that, in the hour and a half that you've spent sitting here with him, you realized just how much he reminds you of San.

And that's enough to make you keep your distance from him. You don't want him, you don't want anyone like San.

The corny jokes, shy smiles, a blush that spreads all the way to his ears when he gets flustered, attempts to be cocky but then growing absolutely embarrassed by it that it ends up being endearing - it's all very San-like. And it's a version of San that not many people know. 

Once it starts nearing six and you both start packing up your things, Yunho clears his throat next to you.

"So, uh, would you be interested in getting a cup of coffee sometime, like, in a non polymer chemistry related way?" He nervously stutters out, ears already burning red. You slow down the action of pulling your jacket on as your phone is in one hand, the chat with Yeosang opened.

Maybe you should've seen this coming. 

He wasn't shy about the fact that he found you attractive since the moment he sat down next to you. You just didn't expect for this to happen so soon. Geez, how awkward will the next three weeks be after today.

You sigh, pulling your dark red hair from under your jacket. "No offense Yunho, you seem nice and all but you're not my type."

He seems almost offended by that as he chuckles, "You barely even know me?"

You give him a once over.

The matter of fact was that you did not, under any circumstance, date anyone or get into relationships. You had hook-ups, one night stands and no strings attached agreements.

If there was any way to describe your mindset it would be pretty simple - men, women, people you were attracted to - you treat them like horderves served in front of you. You'll take a bite (might save some for later) but that's about it, you make sure not to get full because there's way too many flavors, too many of them to try, taste, pick apart...

And if someone really managed to impress you, maybe you'd pick another plate up.

But that didn't happen often and when it did, it usually didn't last.

Jeong Yunho, in every single way, reeked of romance and good intentions.

 The typical boy next door type. He seemed like a momma's boy that wanted a proper and traditional relationship, brought flowers and texted you 'good night' and 'good morning' religiously and had extremely romantic but bland missionary sex. The type to want you to wear his jersey to his games so he could take cheesy photos with you in it and, if he was religious, maybe he'd want you to go to church with him on Sundays. He was the last thing you needed.

If Hongjoong and Seonghwa found you with someone like him, they'd never let you live it down.

You open your mouth to respond to him but your phone rings and you look at it - a photo of Yeosang lighting up the screen. He's always so impatient. You told him at seven, why is he calling already?

You wave your phone in front of Yunho's face, pointing out Yeosang's photo that you took one drunken night while the two of you were messing around after leaving the club and that you've been using as his contact photo ever since where he's in all black, long hair tucked behind his ear as he lights up a cigarette, "My type."

Yunho blinks at the photo before looking at you again resembling a kicked puppy, you sigh feeling only slightly bad but still you have to say something more out of courtesy. "I have to go, I'm sorry if I seemed rude or something, it wasn't intentional and nothing against you but I'm not interested. I hope we do well on the lab exercise though."

He opens his mouth to say something else but you're already standing up and walking towards the entrance of the small, dingy coffee shop.

The discomfort you feel is only temporary because, once again, everything has its beginning, middle and end. This 'partnership' with Yunho will end soon so why bother yourself by feeling guilty.

[whimsimille]

POMEGRANATES

Jeong Jin-Man x female! reader

Pandemonium overtook the cabaret, and the unmistakable sound of glass shattering pierced through the cacophony.

Before you found refuge in the room and made a beeline for the closet, your eyes had taken in the eerie spectacle. The grand chandelier suspended from the ceiling cast ominous shadows that danced on the walls, their movements dictated by the tongues of flames consuming the room. Smoke, ashen and thick, curled upwards, a grim proof of the chaos below. It originated from multiple sources: tablecloths set ablaze, furniture upturned and broken, and bottles of discarded alcohol shattered upon impact from stray bullets. The stench was overpowering—a sickening cocktail of gunpowder, sweat, and blood.

One man clutched his stomach where he'd been shot; another woman sobbed uncontrollably near an upturned piano while cradling her head wound; yet another lies motionless near a pool of crimson liquid.

Imagining the worst case scenarios playing out of the reach of your eyes, you hope that whoever's shooting will miss their target.

But then again, if they did, they wouldn't have come here in the first place. This place was a haven for criminals, a den of vice—no honor among thieves—and it looked like someone wanted to reclaim the turf or send a message.

You didn't care about any of that; all you cared about was survival. And Min-Hye.

Through the cracks in the closet door, you watched in horror.

Bodies lay scattered like broken dolls, some screaming for mercy or moaning in pain, while others just lay still—dead or unconscious. It's hard to tell which is worse. Blood drips from their wounds and mixes with spilled alcohol on the floor as chaos ensues around you both.

Men in black tactical gear methodically searched each room, their eyes glazed over with a cold detachment that sent shivers down your spine. They moved swiftly and efficiently, leaving little room for error or hesitation. Their guns were cocked and ready to fire at any sign of movement.

Your Korean wasn't as good as your English to understand everything they said, but you caught enough to realize that they were looking for the girls.

Holding Min-Hye tightly against you, you notice how her soft curves nestled into your own body—the direct opposite of the flimsy lingerie she wore.

Your own clothes were practically torn to shreds from when they'd dragged you into the back room, and your skin was bruised and battered from their rough handling. But there was no time to mourn that now.

Min-Hye let out a whimper as the scream of a woman rang out, but you quickly grabbed her face and put it on your neck.

"Shh, shh," you whisper into her ear, gently stroking her hair as you try to calm her down.

The older woman shook in your arms, her frightened breaths hot against your neck. They were almost upon you now; you could feel their presence through the closet door, like a foul wind that reeked of sweat and gunsmoke. One hard kick and it would all be over. But you couldn't just let them take her—not like this. Not while she was clinging on to you so desperately, trusting in your protection. You had to do something—anything.

"You're going to be okay," you whisper, even though you know you might both end up dead.

Strangely, you feel calm and detached. Maybe it's the adrenaline, or perhaps it's because you've been in similar nightmarish situations before.

Growing up, your home was a battlefield. Your mother, with her razor-sharp words and fists as hard as talons, and your father, a drunk who spent more time stumbling than holding a job.

Your childhood was a blur of violence and fear—trying to drown it out with the solace of books. But that didn't stop bullets from flying and bombs exploding, or men with guns barging into your home, looking for who knows what. You knew how to survive in these situations. How to stay quiet and hidden, how to move without being seen or heard. You were an expert at keeping yourself alive, you learned never to show fear, never to scream, and never to go down without a fight. You learned to toughen up, to leave scars on whatever dared to harm you.

The closet you're in now is cluttered with discarded sex toys, torn dresses, and stained undergarments. Amid the chaos, you spot a pile of black leather items—remains of some BDSM act performed earlier tonight.

You quickly gather them, creating a makeshift cloak for you and Min-Hye to hide underneath.

“I-I’m scared!” Min-Hye interrupts your crafting, her head falling onto your shoulders as she weeps.

Without moving your lips, you pull Min-Hye's head back and gently remove the blonde wig from her head, revealing her short black hair that is matted with sweat and tears. You remember your own hair being pulled, yanked as a form of punishment or control. But that's a thought for another time.

"Breathe with me. In. Out. In. Out. Slow and steady."

Letting go of the cover, you find her hand and give it a gentle squeeze, hoping to transfer some of your calmness to her.

She must have picked up on your trick because she slowly started to mimic your rhythm.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoes through the room as someone kicks in the door of the suite you two were in.

You hold your breath as you hear them approach your closet, feeling the vibrations of their heavy boots on the wooden floor. The knob turns slowly, and you flinch, expecting the worst.

Sweat begins to form on your brow as the door creaks open ever so slightly, revealing only darkness at first. But then, a sliver of light from the hallway enters and you see a pair of cold, impassive eyes gazing straight at you.

Your makeup smeared as you rolled out of the closet, your eyes fixed on the intruders—two men who stared back at you in surprise. You can see the shock on their faces when they take in your nude body and Min-Hye hiding behind you, her eyes wide with fear.

Adrenaline makes you swift and sure. Your hand snakes out, grabbing one of the discarded leather straps from your makeshift cloak and whipping it towards them.

The strap catches one man off-guard, wrapping around his neck and yanking him backward with a crack. He chokes, gasping for air as you twist it tighter, your fingers digging into his skin like claws.

Meanwhile, his comrade takes aim at you both, finger squeezing the trigger. But before he can fire, you dive forward and slam into him with a grunt of effort. Your shoulder crashes against his stomach just as a bullet rips through the air where your head was moments ago. You sink teeth into his neck to muffle his cry of pain until he goes limp beneath you.

The second man, dazed but still breathing, tries to bring his knife up, but you're too quick. His eyes widen as he sees your hands wrap around his neck and then narrow in anger when you squeeze. You smell the sweat on his skin as you twist, feeling his windpipe bend under your grip like a rubber band under pressure. You can hear him gurgle and wheeze for air—a pathetic sound that fills you with satisfaction. This is how it should be—every single one of these bastards deserves to suffer like this.

With a final crack of bone breaking under your hands, the man goes limp and drops to the floor with a thud.

For a moment, all is silent.

Your eyes land on Min-Hye, cowering behind the overturned table, her eyes wide with fear yet still following your every move intently.

From the moment you were unwillingly brought to this place, the youngest and the last to be ensnared, to be handled around Chinese men like a sex toy, you had taken Min-Hye under your wing, offering her the care that had been denied to you, even when she was 5 years older. And now, you would do anything to save her.

A sharp crack echoes through the room as more gunshots ring out.

Glass shatters behind you; someone else is breaking in or shooting through another windowpane. You barely register it as you kick the men away from you and push yourself up to your feet with a snarl. Your legs tremble underneath you but adrenaline carries you forward nonetheless.

You snatch up a shard of broken glass from the floor as another shot rings out—too close for comfort—and throw it with all your strength at a third assailant who had just entered through the doorway. The sharp piece hits him in the eye and he cries out before he falls to the ground.

You could hear others getting closer, their heavy boots stomping on the floorboards. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you tried to think of a way out of this nightmare.

You needed to get Min-Hye to safety, but how? The exit door was locked and there were at least two of them guarding it. The window was your only option, but it was high and covered by metal bars. And even if you managed to open it, the drop would surely break her fragile body. You didn't even know if she could climb or if the fall would kill her instantly.

A sudden thought hit you like a lightning bolt: the ventilation shaft! It led directly outside; perhaps you could squeeze through the tiny opening with Min-Hye and make a mad dash for freedom before they caught on to your plans.

Frantically, you reached for the fallen gun in one hand while dragging the unconscious men with the other, positioning them into a corner. It was a spot that was out of sight from outside yet still provided a modicum of cover while you prepared to make your bold escape.

“Damn it!” you hissed when you checked the gun, finding the chamber empty. Your heart sank as you checked the other bodies, but it was the same story.

In desperation, you ripped off one of their masks, revealing a scarred and rugged face that mirrored the cold determination in his eyes when he was conscious. You swiftly grabbed his discarded weapons belt, strapping it around your waist firmly, now armed with a knife and a baton.

"Y/N..."

"Shh, calm down. I have a plan," you reassured her, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.

Your eyes darted around the room, landing on a chair nearby. In quick strides, you rushed to it and jammed it under the doorknob. The chair was old and rickety, its wood groaning under the strain. But it held. This makeshift barricade would buy you some precious time.

Now, it was time to get Min-Hye to safety. She was still shaking, but she didn't resist when you lifted her into your arms, her bare legs brushing against yours as you placed her on top of the table.

With trembling hands, you started to unscrew the bolts that held the grate in place. The monsters outside were cursing loudly, their threats and taunts blending into the cacophony of the chaos beyond the door. Your fingers slipped several times, smearing grease and dirt on the metal, but you were determined.

After what felt like an eternity, the last bolt came loose. You quickly pushed the grate aside, revealing a dark and narrow passageway. The shaft was barely big enough for one person to squeeze through. The air inside smelled musty, filled with the scent of dust and rusted pipes, a testament to the age of the building.

"Min-hye," you said, looking at her, making sure to hold her gaze. "I need you to trust me and crawl through here, okay? Can you do that?”

She nodded, biting her lower lip nervously. “But…what about yo-?”

“Just listen," you said, cutting her off. You pointed down the shaft. "Follow it straight, then take the second left. There'll be an opening that leads to the alleyway behind this building. Wait for me there.”

"But..."

"Just trust me, okay?"

She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes, but she didn't question you further. With one last look at you, she crawled into the shaft.

You watched as she disappeared into the darkness, her silhouette fading until all you could see was the black void of the vent. You turned your attention to the pipes running along the ceiling. They were old and rusted, snaking their way across the room and disappearing into the walls. You followed their direction, guessing they led to the main water supply...which meant the main exit was in that direction.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" Min-Hye called out from the shaft, her voice echoing slightly. "Why aren't you following me?"

You didn't answer her. Instead, you reached down and grabbed one of the knives from the belt you'd taken from the unconscious man. The cold metal was comforting in your hand; its weight was somehow reassuring. You tested its balance, swinging it a few times before strapping it securely to your thigh.

Then you turned back to the shaft, forcing a smile on your face. "I'll see you soon," you told her, then you closed the grate, leaving her alone in the darkness.

You moved back to your hiding spot, a small alcove behind a heavy curtain that provided somewhat of a shield from the view of the door. The fabric was thick and velvety, muffling the sounds from the other side of the room as your heart pounded in your chest.

Just as you settled into your hiding spot, the door to the room burst open.

A tall man stepped inside, his presence filling the room. He was imposing, his broad shoulders nearly filling the doorway. He was dressed in dark clothes, the material stretching over his muscular form. He smelled oddly good, like a mixture of citrus and nicotine.

His eyes were deep-set and intense as they took in the room, searching. They were the colour of storm clouds, cold and unforgiving.

You left your hiding spot, charging at him with a primal roar. He turned just in time to see you, his eyes widening in surprise. But he was quick—quicker than you'd expected. He grabbed you mid-air and threw you to the ground, his grip like iron around your wrist.

You groaned as you hit the floor, and the wind knocked you out.

He was on you in an instant, pulling you up by your hair and pressing the cold barrel of his gun against your throat.

Unlike the others, his eyes didn't rake over your nearly exposed breasts, or the blood pooling around your inner legs from being used earlier, or the bruises marring your body. His gaze didn't possess the leering, predatory glint you'd come to associate with the men in this place. Instead, his eyes met yours and held them.

It was almost as if he was assessing you, looking beyond your physical appearance and into your core. It was as if he were asking himself if you were a morning or a night person, if you enjoyed the silence of the library or the hustle of the city. It was as if he cared more about what you preferred, pink or blue, rather than the color of your lingerie.

You didn’t close your eyes or tear up; all that you did was look back at him through your damp eyelashes, smirking.

The man arched an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by your defiant response. But to your surprise, he eventually let go of your hair and sheathed his gun. With a swift movement, he shrugged himself out of his jacket and gently draped it over you, his hands careful not to touch your bare skin.

As he bent down and lifted you into his arms, you couldn't help but think of the ancient Greek myths you had read as a child.

Now you were Persephone, trapped in the underworld of this criminal haven, and he was Hades. But unlike the myth, there was no pomegranate seed to bind you to this hell and no mother to plead for your return. 

The only hope was your own survival instinct and the strange mercy of your captor.

Knock Knock

"Which cheese is the most dramatic?"

"Gorgonzilla."

"Correct. And which cheese is always on time?"

"Swiss, because it has holes in it, like a clock."

"Good. And which cheese suffers the most?"

"Grated cheese."

"Excellent. You may enter. Oh, and by the way, you're bleeding, noona."

Those are the first words that Jeong Ji-An utters as you stumble across the threshold of her uncle's house. Her eyes, glazed with the artificial glow from the television screen, flicker to you momentarily before returning to the unfolding nature documentary she's engrossed in.

It was something about lions in Africa; she seems to be really into wildlife documentaries these days. She always shares a few interesting facts about cheetahs that make their legs super flexible when running at high speeds and how they have spots to camouflage themselves against the tall grasses as they hunt for food.

As her routine requests, she's curled up on the worn-out couch, her small hands coated with a thin veneer of butter from the popcorn she's munching on. The rhythmic crunching of the kernels punctuates the silence of the room, the only other sound being the low hum of the narrator explaining the predator-prey dynamics in the wild.

"Hello to you too, baby.”

As you bend down to plant a soft kiss on her head, the scent of her strawberry shampoo and the cigarettes she smokes fills your nostrils, momentarily washing away the gritty stench of gunpowder and blood that clings to you.

You're not much older than Ji-An, but the bond you share with her feels deeper, stronger. She's the one precious jewel whose value is immeasurable. Maybe it's because she's the spitting image of Jeong Jin-Man, a tiny version of her uncle. Or maybe it's because she, like you, carries the weight of a world much too harsh for her tender years.

"Did you two have dinner yet?" you ask, changing the subject, trying to bring some normalcy to the situation. You glance towards the kitchen; the smell of something burning is still lingering in the air.

You can already imagine Jin-Man's reaction when he sees what happened. He'll probably grumble something about his niece not paying attention while cooking or being distracted by the TV again.

Ji-An finally tears her gaze away from the TV, her eyes lingering on the bloody wound on your ribs with an unspoken concern. "I did, but he didn’t. He was probably waiting for you.”

A sigh escapes your lips and your heart clenches with an emotion you can't quite name. It was always like this. Despite his gruff exterior and chilly demeanor, he'd always wait for you, working obsessively, neglecting his own needs until he was sure you were safe.

"And where's our workaholic now? Is he holed up in his room again?"

“Office. He's been engrossed in managing the missions with Pasin, poring over the site data ever since you left home at dawn," she replies, gesturing towards the closed door at the end of the hall.

“Is Pasin there with him now? They have been working together a lot lately.”

“No, Pasin left a while back. He mentioned that he was going to check up on Min-Hye at the safehouse first, then head to his restaurant. It's almost closing time there, actually. I should start getting ready for my Muay Thai class with him. He's been teaching me some new moves, and I don't want to be late."

"Ji-An, it's already past your bedtime. Your class can surely wait until tomorrow," you attempt to reason with her, casting a worried glance at the vintage clock hanging on the wall. Its hands were inching closer to midnight.

"But noona," she protests, her voice taking on a whiny tone too high for a 17-year-old girl. She puffs out her cheeks and bats her eyelashes, a well-practiced display of aegyo. "I've been practicing my punches and kicks all day. I'm so excited to show him the progress I've made. I just can't wait!"

You sigh, a fond smile tugging at your lips. You know when you've lost this battle. Ji-An's determination was always a force to be reckoned with.

"Alright, but on one condition," you stipulate. "You must promise me you won't mention this late-night training session to Jin-Man, okay?"

Her eyes twinkle with mischief as she grins widely, revealing her perfectly aligned teeth. "I promise, noona. Your secret is safe with me. Furthermore, you once again have a battlefield odor."

You chuckle, your hand reaching up to affectionately ruffle her slightly messy hair. "Alright, alright. I hear you, Ji-An. But… before you go," you add, holding up a finger to catch her attention as she's about to spring up from the couch. "I need you to do a few things for me."

She looks at you expectantly, a frown forming on her forehead. "What is it, Noona?"

"First, go put some warm clothes on. It's cold outside, and I don't want you to catch a cold. Second, remember to turn off the TV before you leave. And finally," you say, pointing at the pile of dishes in the sink, "wash the dishes. We can't have ants invading our kitchen."

She pouts, crossing her arms over her chest. "But noona-"

"I know, Ji. But we all have to do things we don't like. It's part of being responsible. Now, go on. I need to get cleaned up."

“Yes, mom.”

With a dramatic sigh, she nods, pushing herself off the couch to do as you instructed. You watch her go, a small smile on your face. She may be a handful at times, but she always listens to you in the end.

Turning your attention back to yourself, you head towards the bathroom.

As soon as you open the door, you take off your jacket and immediately spit out blood into the sink, wincing at the sound of it hitting the porcelain like a bullet casing echoing through an empty chamber.

There's a persistent ringing in your ears—maybe from gunshots, screams or just stress. But it doesn't matter now. You grab a bottle of painkillers from under the sink and swallow two dry, feeling them slide down your throat like tiny pebbles.

Caught in the mirror is an unflattering reflection: dark circles like bruised moons under your eyes, mascara smeared across your lids like the inky strokes of a careless painter, strands of long hair, reeking of sweat and clinging to your forehead. Dirt is caked under your fingernails, souvenirs of the hours spent digging through the earth looking for something you weren't supposed to find.

Your hand reaches for a washcloth, dipping it into the warm water as you lean against the sink for support while taking stock of your wounds. Your skin is scraped raw from crawling through unmarked graves and dodging bullets; there's a deep cut on your left thigh and shallow ones along your arms where you used them for cover. Your ribs ache where that bastard shot you, but at least it was only grazed. That bullet could have done some real damage if it had been an inch to the left. You grit your teeth against the pain and scrub away the blood with vigor.

Despite the pain and the exhausting work, nothing can change the fact that you did what needed to be done. Murthehelp is always like this—dirty, dangerous, and hazy at times—but someone has to do it. And you do it very, very well.

A knock on the door interrupts your thoughts. Jeong Ji-An pokes her head in. "Do you need anything else before I head out, noona?" She asks curiously and her face softens when she sees the bandages peeking from under your torn shirt, her mouth turning down into a worried frown.

"No," you reply with a small, weary smile. "Just admiring my handiwork."

She rolls her eyes but doesn't comment—she knows better than anyone how tough life can be sometimes. You can hear her rustling around in her room before returning with some clean clothes for you and announcing that she turned off the TV and did the dishes like a good girl.

“Great, baby."

Looking down, you see the baby blue lacy pajamas she knows you love to wear.

"It's your favorite, right, noona?" She says this, holding up the soft fabric. "And you know, Uncle Jin-Man always says you look nice in these." She adds with a teasing smile. “Maybe wearing these will make him less angry at you for coming home shot again."

You laugh at that, despite the pain it causes in your ribs. "I'll keep that in mind, Ji-An. Thanks for the tip."

With that, she gives you a quick, warm smile, her eyes twinkling with that youthful mischief, before she heads for the door. "Don't let him put you in a wheelchair. I like it when you’re able to walk, you know. It’s not as fun when you’re all bandaged up and grumpy.”

“Yah! Jeong Jin-An!” You shout, feigning anger. But the girl was already gone, her laughter echoing in the hallway.

“That brat…” You mutter under your breath, a small smile playing on your lips despite the pain.

Gently, you peel off your clothes, the fabric sticking to your sweat-drenched skin. You leave them in a crumpled heap on the floor.

With a sigh, you sink into the water, wincing slightly as it stings your fresh wounds. Yet soon, the warmth starts to seep into your muscles, loosening the knots of tension and easing the throbbing pain.

There, in the bathtub, you lower your head beneath the water, closing your eyes and holding your breath. You imagine what it would be like to be this weightless always. It's quiet and warm, and your mind is empty of anything other than the comforting lull of the water against your skin.

You think about how every inch of your body screams in agony, and how, in this moment, submerged in this warm bath, the pain is bearable. You entertain the thought of what it would be like to let go, to surrender to the quiet peace of the water.

Then, your mind wanders to the feeling of the porcelain against your skin. You recall a memory from a few weeks ago when you were sitting in a bathtub similar to this, and only then were you engaged in a deep conversation with Min Hye. Her voice was punctuated by the sound of her smoking, the bright red lipstick staining the cigarette’s filter. There, you weren't holding your breath. You were telling yourself to remember that moment, how it made you feel alive despite the danger lurking outside your door.

You think about the bruises on your knees, the deep purple and blue hues, the tenderness you feel when they brush against each other and even though they hurt, they'll fade in a few days, just like the pain from your past.

You think of how your lungs are starting to ache, and it reminds you of running through the park with your sister, rolling down a hill and picking leaves from each other's hair. You then think of the day she died, how you held her lifeless body in that same park, and how the world seemed too cruel and too big.

It was like the earth was mourning for her, groaning, opening up its foundations like an old and creaky house, revealing its rotting insides. And yet the wind, the rain and the cold weren’t the cause of the shivers that raked her body, making her hands tremble and her eyelids twitch.

A body left to rot, to return to the soil, to turn into dust. A name scratched from the books. A face lost to the turning tides of history.

You contemplate all these things and more. You ponder everything that comes with living and being alive. All the things that hurt, sting and break skin, and then all the things that are light, gentle and happy. You weigh the two in your hands; the pain and the joy are so intertwined that they're impossible to separate.

After what seems like an eternity, the water begins to turn a pale pink from the blood seeping out of your wounds. Your skin is raw and red, stinging from the hot water and the rough scrubbing. Despite the pain, you can't help but feel a little cleaner, a little less tainted by the night's events.

Slowly, you pull the plug and let the water drain, watching as the pink swirls spiral down the drain until only a few droplets remain.

You reach for a towel, wrapping it around your body and wincing as the rough fabric brushes against your tender skin. The mirror is fogged up, but you don't need to see your reflection to know the extent of your injuries.

Moving to the sink, you retrieve a first-aid kit and start to stitch up the deeper cuts. The process is tedious and painful, but you've done it countless times before. Your hands shake slightly, but the thread goes through the skin with practiced ease. Once the stitching is done, you clean the area one more time before applying a bandage over it.

Dried off and bandaged, you put on the  pajamas and head to Jin Man’s office.

The office door is slightly ajar, revealing the familiar sight of his desk cluttered with papers and screens, each displaying different angles of surveillance footage or diagrams.

A map of Seoul sprawls across the large desk, littered with notes, files and printouts from their last job. On the screen of his computer are grainy photos taken from a distance; they appear to be of two men meeting in what looks like an abandoned warehouse. One man has his back turned towards the camera while the other gestures wildly with his hands, most likely giving orders or directions.

You push the door open further and step inside, wincing at the loud squeak it makes under your weight. It needs oiling.

Jeong doesn't even seem to notice or mind; he's too absorbed in whatever he's working on. A half-empty cup of cold coffee sits on his desk, the steam long since dissipated, next to a plate with crumbs from a hastily eaten sandwich that looks like it was abandoned mid-bite.

You take a moment to appreciate how he wears his work like a second skin—it defines him, molds him into something almost apart from human—and you feel a pang of guilt for disrupting his routine like this.

His office smells metallic and antiseptic; it's always been like that since you can remember. Not unpleasant but not inviting either; it matches his personality perfectly. Outside, the world continues its mad rush of people, cars and noise. But here, there's just the hum of machinery from his computer and occasional typing noises.

"Done playing the tough guy, huh?"

"How did you know it was me?"

"You walk like a cat," he replies, not missing a beat, "And after a shower, you always smell like a mix of vanilla and lavender. It's a comforting scent, but it doesn't cover the stench of danger that follows you."

His words hang in the air, adding an extra layer of tension to the already charged atmosphere. You watch him, taking in his stern expression and the way his fingers dance over the keyboard. His words are stoic, almost passive-aggressive, but you know him well enough to see the flash of worry behind his icy demeanor.

"Could you at least look at me when you're lecturing me?" You snap, regretting the bitter edge in your voice the moment it escapes your lips.

He finally looks up, his eyes hard and unreadable. "I'm not lecturing you. I'm merely stating the facts."

Surpised, you watch as he fixes his table, clearing a space amidst the clutter. It's a spot you know well, a space you've occupied many times in the past. It's an unspoken invitation, a silent concession on his part. Despite his harsh words, he's still making room for you.

You hop onto the table, wincing slightly at the sharp pain that flares up from your ribs. He doesn't comment on it, keeping his attention fixed on his work, but you notice the slight tightening of his jaw.

Provoked by his dismissive attitude, you reach for a lighter and a lone cigarette that's been left on the edge of his cluttered desk. It's a mint flavored one, you notice, the kind Ji-An prefers and sneaks in from time to time, despite her uncle's constant disapproval.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" You challenge, striking the lighter and bringing the small flame to the end of the cigarette. The pungent smell of the tobacco fills the room as you take a deep breath, the smoke curling in the air around you.

He finally takes a long sip of his coffee before turning to look at you. "No," he says finally, "it's supposed to make you think. Think about your reckless actions and the consequences. Think about the people who care about you and worry about you. You could have avoided this," he adds, his gaze dropping to your bandaged ribs, "if you had answered my calls or asked Pasin for reinforcements."

"I was handling it just fine. I don't need a babysitter."

"Do you think this is a game?" He hisses, his icy composure finally breaking. "Do you think you're invincible?"

"You're not the only one who can handle a mission, Jin-Man," you snap back, ashing the cigarette on his pristine desk. "I can take care of myself."

In a split second, he’s on his feet. He moves so fast that you barely have time to react. One moment he's sitting behind his desk, and the next he's standing in front of you, his hands on your knees, forcing your legs apart to make space for him. He steps in between them, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

Before you can utter another word, he pulls out a knife from his pocket, a switchblade with a sleek, matte black finish that glints ominously under the harsh fluorescent lights. He presses the cold, razor-sharp blade against the tender skin of your throat. His touch is light, but you know he can cut deep if he wants to.

Simultaneously, he snatches the cigarette from your hand, crushing it under his boot. The smell of burnt nicotine fills the air, mixing with the sterile scent of his office.

“Hey! I need my nicotine fix-”

“Quiet!" he hisses. “I don't know if your goal is to live only for 2 or 3 years more, but you're so reckless, and you're going to get yourself killed one of these days."

The words hang heavy in the silent room, and for a moment, all you can do is stare back at him, your heart pounding in your chest. You can feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. He's close—so close that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. His jeans brush against your bare legs, and you can't help but shiver, feeling the wetness between your legs spread.

"I didn't save you from that cabaret to watch you bleed out. I didn't let you raise my niece as your daughter, only to let her see you getting home wounded. I didn't invite you into my and Ji-An’s lives just for you to get yourself killed." A thin line of blood appears where the blade grazes harder against your skin, but, no, he doesn't pull away; he's only watching as it blooms red against the pale expanse of your neck.

"You don't get to decide what I can and can't handle. I'm not the damsel in distress you saved from that grimy cabaret. I'm not your innocent niece who needs protection. I'm not your responsibility. I'm a killer, just like you."

"And what if you are? What if you're more than just a responsibility to me? I don't even know where you end and I begin." He moves his face closer to your collarbones, and his tongue darts out to taste the saltiness left behind by the blood trickling down from the cuts on your neck. It's a possessive kiss—like he wants to claim every part of you as his own.

Suddenly, you are very aware that he is a man who's been through hell and back—not just with the scars from bullets and knives but also from the way his eyes seem to hold so much pain yet desperation for something more.

"I'm tired of watching you put yourself in danger. You can't keep doing this."

For the first time in years, Jin Man sounds truly vulnerable. His gaze stays locked on yours as if waiting for an answer or maybe hoping you'll finally say something that will change his mind about caring for you. But all you can do is breathe in the scent of his cologne, which mixes with sweat.

You feel yourself slipping away from sanity, wanting him to save you from the chaos within yourself.

"I don’t need someone but myself.”

He sighs heavily.

His large hands shake as they grip your knees tightly for support as he leans against them, staring down at your groin, taking in your arousal staining the PJ shorts.

“Yeah? Can you take care of this yourself, too?”

Pulling the blade out of your throat, he carries on, pressing the blade against your skin gently, tracing it along one hipbone, then the other, as if he needs to make sure everything is okay down there. His hand brushes against the tender skin of your thighs before slipping inside your shorts to touch where you're wet from anticipation and fear mingled together.

It's intimate but also terrifying—you can't help but squirm under his touch as he traces the outline of your labia teasingly while looking straight at you with those dark eyes that have haunted your dreams for months now.

You bite down on your bottom lip to stop it from trembling as he starts cutting through the fabric of your shorts, and you hear the soft rip of cotton tearing apart.

The air in the room feels heavy with anticipation and tension as he caresses your mound before pushing inside. It's cold against your heated skin, making you squirm slightly under his touch.

The knife glides through your folds effortlessly, causing you to gasp in surprise when it hits something soft and sensitive inside you.

He withdraws the blade slowly, the cold metal leaving a stinging sensation in its wake. A small cut on your flesh blossoms like a tiny crimson flower, the evidence of his intrusion.

A bead of blood forms at the edge of it, growing in size until it's too heavy to cling to the blade. It drips onto the floor between your legs.

With a calculated motion, he discards the bloodied knife onto his desk, the clattering sound echoing in the charged silence of the room.

"So experienced yet so innocent. My little lamb," he murmurs, breath hot against your neck as he smears his finger on the little pool of sweet nectar seeping from between your folds.

"What are you doing?"

His dick strains in his trousers, throbbing at the unsure, confused tone that layers your question. It sears through him like a midsummer heatwave—the flash of bright sunlight after the clouds of a storm have parted. Jesus, you’re too good at this; you know exactly how to get under his skin.

“Teaching you to not play with fire.”

It's clear he's not going to let you hide behind a wall of anger and defiance anymore. Each word he says seems to peel away another layer of your armor, exposing something raw and fragile underneath. Something that craves his touch, even when it hurts.

"Ouch!" You exclaim sharply as his strong hand grips your arm, yanking you around and forcing you to stand upright again. The abruptness of the movement causes a jolt of pain to shoot through your body, making you wince.

Before you have a chance to protest or push him away, you're bent forward, your chest pressing against the cool, polished wood of his desk. You try to push yourself back up, but you're stopped by a firm hand pressing down between your shoulder blades, effectively pinning you in place.

“Stay still.”

You let out a whimper, your hips instinctively shifting in response to his forceful command. Slowly, you let your body go limp, surrendering to the dominating position that Jin-Man has forced you into.

“Do you know,” the man begins, fingers trailing down your lithe back, along the length of your spine, all the way down until his fingers can tuck under the hem of the rest of your shorts, "that in the old days, rulers like this were not just used for measurement?"

You know it. But you won’t answer; you won’t give him the taste. So you shake your head and make a whining sound as your boss begins to push the fabric down over the swell of your ass.

"They were also used for discipline against wayward children.”

Your whole body shivers.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? Long lines of red across your thighs and ass marks to remind you not to act like such a slut…” Jeong emphasizes the words with the drag of nails against the newly-bared skin. “You’re just asking to be punished.”

Shaking your head again, you try to deny the accusation.

“Oh,” the man says, feigning surprise and removing his hand from your  backside. “You don’t? You don’t want me to spank you for your insolence today? You want me to stop?”

There’s a small thudding sound as you let your head bump into the desk a couple of times in self-punishment. When you speak, the words are straining and shaking. “N-No, Sir.”

“What was that?”

You groan in frustration. “Yah, Jeong Jin-Man, come on! Ah!”

Fingers wound tightly in your hair, Jin Man pulls your head back from the desk, baring your bruised neck. “Excuse me?”

“Sir! Sir, I’m sorry; please, I’ll be good, I–” You mumble, probably aiming for politeness, but the words come out more sulky than you likely intended.

Jeong Jin-Man ignores it in favour of getting your bloodied shorts down, pushing them over your thighs until they fall to a puddle on the floor around your ankles. Spreading the cheeks, he can see your stretched and cut pussy, can see the throb of your clit, your smaller, puckered hole also smeared with wetness from just how much you had been oozing out.

Lifting his gaze, he surveys the room meticulously. His eyes linger on the worn-out leather chair with its loose stitching, the stacks of paperwork teetering precariously on the edge of his desk, and the dimly lit ceiling lamp that casts long, sinister shadows on the wooden floor. His gaze then falls on a wooden ruler resting among a chaotic array of stationery in an open drawer.

He reaches out, his fingers wrapping around it and lifting it from its resting place. He turns it over in his hand, feeling the rough texture of the worn wood against his skin. He tests its weight, swishing it through the air and listening to the soft whooshing sound it makes.

He thinks he will only stop once your ass and the backs of your thighs are neatly lined in red, with touches of crimson and purpling spots showing through the skin where patches of bruising are going to form.

Jin Man knows your skin has always been easy to mark, flaring eagerly with scarlets, pale rose and smatterings of plum. The warm colours are quick to fade, replaced by blues and greens, mottled yellows that cover the fragile arcs of your cartilage, flesh pasted with echoes of tender, affectionate violence.

It’s so pretty, so lovely. He has always preferred charcoal and pencils when setting something on paper, but when it comes to this particular canvas, he likes to paint.

His free hand settles on your ass, squeezing it hard and leaving his large palm impression on your skin, making your lips quiver.

"One," he says, and the sting is immediate as the ruler hits your right cheek, leaving a blossom of searing pain that radiates across your body, making you gasp. "Two," he continues, and this time the ruler hits your left cheek, making you shudder violently.

The sting is fierce but not enough to distract from the strange pleasure that courses through you. You can feel yourself getting wetter with each strike.

"Three." He slaps your left side, causing a wave of heat to wash over you as he repeats it on the other side.

The room seems to echo with the sounds of his hand connecting with your flesh. This time he doesn't stop at five but hits six and seven times on both sides before pulling back to admire his handiwork.

The welts are already bright red and tender, ready for him to take more if need be. He runs a finger down each one gently, tracing their edges before trailing it lower between your legs, where he presses against your clit roughly. You moan loudly this time, needing him to continue even though it hurts so good.

“I-Is it over?”

He chuckles, the sound dark and low, resonating from the pit of his chest. It's a sound that sends shivers down your spine and has you clenching your thighs together in anticipation. He lifts his finger, coated with your arousal, and presents it to your lips. "Taste," he commands.

You parted your lips obediently, taking his finger into your mouth. Your tongue wraps around it, tasting your own arousal—salty and bitter, with a hint of metallic tang from your earlier exertion. It's a taste that's uniquely yours—a taste that he's come to crave.

Once you've licked his finger clean, he pulls it away and grabs hold of the ruler again. He brandishes it in front of you, the wooden surface gleaming under the harsh lighting. Another line of pain sears across your ass cheeks, making you jerk in surprise. This time, when he pulls back, he commands, "Sit on the desk and spread your legs.”

Again, you hesitate. You can feel your fingers twitching, itching to claw at him, to show him your defiance. But you know better than to challenge him now.

Crack!

Jeong snaps the ruler against the desk and  you flinch. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

No, you think, but you're not giving him the satisfaction of hearing you say it. You scramble into action, hopping up onto the desk again, scooting backwards until your knees hook on the table’s edge when you open your legs. The sting of the cut intensifies, making you wince, but you refuse to let out a sound.

One more time, he steps between your spread thighs. “You asked if your punishment was over. Do you really think that after all your disobedient, inappropriate behavior today, those measly strikes were all you deserved?”

Shaking your head desperately, you babble, “No, sir, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.”

Jeong Jin- Man stuts. “And now you’re lying…”

“No, please, I just want to be good, I–”  You are cut off with a hiss as your boss cracks the ruler down half-way up the center of your inner thigh.

He doesn’t lift the ruler, instead dragging it over your skin, up, up, up until he reaches the crux of your hip. You shiver, your eyes wide and your lips caught between teeth.

Glancing down at the ruler, you see the point of which is laying mere inches from your cunt before looking back up.

Jeong can tell that you’re trying to hide how hungry you are and how much you want this, want more, and need it. But you are so subtle about it; he can only tell because he knows where to look.

“You don’t need to count this time,” he says, seemingly casual. “Just do your best not to make too much noise, hmm? We don’t want Ji-An to come back home and hear you like this.”

“Yes, Sir.” Your reply is curt, but the edge in your voice is unmistakable.

Jeong doesn't seem to mind your defiance. If anything, it seems to amuse him, admiring the way the muscles in your thighs tense up as he uses the ruler to part your soft labia. He presses the wooden corner harshly against your clit.

“Fu– Mmph.” A sharp, snapping sound breaks through the air as you clap a hand over your own mouth, cutting off the curse before it can fully form itself.

The man smirks and twists the ruler, maintaining the heavy pressure.

Smack! Smack!

Puffy lips must cushion the blows, just slightly, but he is still sure that it’s sharp enough to hurt when the blows make contact with your swollen clit. The impacts sound moist, and the slick covering your skin likely makes the sting a touch more severe.

Jin-Man doesn’t give you a moment to recover between each hit, unleashing a stream of spanks in quick succession, each one causing your entire body to jump and convulse as though you had been electrocuted.

“Ngh, ngh, nghh—Mmph!” You have both of your hands covering your mouth, your eyes squeezed shut and your knees jerking inward on every impact. You try to bare your teeth at him, a growl of defiance building in your throat, but he cuts you off with a sharp look, as if you're a dog trying to show aggression to its master.

It only takes a few more smacks against your pussy before the man’s free hand has to grip your thigh and hold it still, keeping you from allowing your legs to close.

Resting for a moment, Jeong lets the flat side of the ruler lay overtop of your cunt. The already-flushed skin is now a darkened red rather than that rose-petal pink, the colour of your mouth. He is sure that it would be hot to the touch, glowing with heat from the abuse.

“Please!”

Dropping the ruler to the floor, he steps forward. Reaching down with one hand to click open the buckle of his belt, he buries the other in your hair. "Please, what?" he asks, his hand tugging on your hair, tilting your head back to expose your delicate throat. The threat of teeth grazing your skin is electrifying.

He takes his time, slowly unbuckling his belt, the leather sliding out of its loops with a soft whisper of sound. His pants drop to the floor, pooling around his ankles, revealing a hard thickness straining against the fabric of his boxers.

With a swift tug, it's freed, standing erect and proud.

Your eyes widen at the sight, heat pooling in your lower belly. The tip of his cock is flushed a dark red, throbbing with anticipation, the veins on the sides bulging and straining, ready to claim its prize.

A whimper escapes your lips, your back arching involuntarily. The heat radiating off his dick is palpable, and you can't help but imagine how it would feel sliding into you, filling you to the brim.

On seeing your reaction, a predatory grin spreads across Jeong's face. He moves closer, his hand gripping your head firmly and holding you still. He positions himself at your entrance, his fingers gripping your hips, pulling your legs wider apart.

And as he thrusts into you, claiming you entirely, the Greek myth of Hades and Persephone rings in your mind again.

Only this time, you are not a helpless Persephone being whisked away to a foreign underworld. Instead, you are a willing partner in this dance of power and desolation, a queen finding her throne in the deepest depths of hell. And Jin-Man, your Hades, is not just your captor but also your savior, a dark god offering you a sanctuary built on shadows and secrets.

As the underworld of his life consumes you, you realize there are no seasons dictating your stay, no harvest goddess waiting for your return. Your fate is braided with his, and in this underworld, you are both the rulers, bound not by pomegranate seeds but by a desire as relentless and binding as the river Styx itself.

[xerotiny]

Strangers // Ethel Cain #2

Strangers (Part One: Knuckle Velvet)

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader

Warning: cannibalism, graphic depiction of cannibalism, violence and death, smut, and heavy on angst.

Note: sequel to knuckle velvet, adaptation of the song "stangers" by Ethel Cain.

Gist: having lost all hope for Yunho's return, you go on about your life to find him back at your doorstep in a couple of weeks; with much more menacing personality than before, he continues to play you along to his tunes. You don't realise how detrimental he was for you, not until you were counting last of your breaths.

Song Rec: Strangers by Ethel Cain

Word Count: 2,568

Reader's Perspective.

"Don't talk to strangers or you might fall in love."

          My mom would always tell me to stay away from strangers. I kept her words in my head until the day I met Yunho. The moment my sullen gaze was casted on him, everything in my head turned to mush; I saw him in the home supplies aisle of our local supermarket. He stood confused, contemplating what brand of bleach to buy. It seemed ridiculous, for a guy to ponder on the brand of bleach. I used to work at the supermarket, it was my humbling duty to help him out. And surprisingly, we hit it off quite quickly then.

For a mere minute, I believed he was genuinely interested in me, and maybe he was. Who could even resist his presence, or his tantalising words? He was irresistible in every sense, be it his personality or his appearance. I still remember the day we first went out. It was a drive-in theatre; they were showing the old classic, notebook. Though, there wasn't much watching involved when we were both busy sucking each other's faces off. Kind of vague and pathetic, I know. It's the reason why I knew we'd never work out.

My doubts were soon blown out to my reality. He was abusive, irresponsible, and arrogant. A complete three-sixty from the face he had. One might seemingly assume he's one of the angels, a dearie. He's not. He never was. I still carry the marks and bruises on my skin, he left them with much malign he shrouds in his heart. I'm a tattered piece of his rage, evermore stuck and hellbound to the torturous depths of his anger. Yet, I never learn. I never learn to rid myself of him; he isn't a part of me. He doesn't define me. Then why do I run back to him the moment he acts a little different?

After he left that day, I stayed close to the door, hoping for his return. He didn't come. He never did. He was never going to. Though, a couple of days ago, I saw him hanging out by the pier, rolling blunts and smoking them with his friends. It hurt me; I'll admit. But with the way things were left between us, I wasn't hopeful he'd come back to me.

And then the unthinkable happened.

He was standing on my front porch, heart in his hand, apologising. He made this face, almost like a despondent puppy, reeling me in with those tearful eyes. My heart lurched in a minute, believing his apologies, believing him.

"Come with me, sunshine," he said, "come with me, and we'll be forever together." He took a long pause then, "I've changed my ways, I've made myself better. I want to be better for you."

I believed him.

I stared at his hand, extended, outreaching mine.

I laced our hands together.

And together, we left my old house.

A house accommodating my schizophrenic mother and no one else.

He took me to a better place. His place. A house on the prairie. Secluded. It was our own paradise.

A paradise I would soon start to resent.

───────────────

          I heard your footsteps outside. Outside this basement door, in the mere darkness I was trapped in. Was the darkness just in my head? Because you said this place would be mine to live, mine to roam, mine to stay. Then what am I doing in your basement? Lying in cold, under the ambiguous ceiling of stone, I wonder what you're doing standing outside all alone.

I knew it then, when the door rattled open. I shouldn't be keeping hopes with you again. You're not here to make me feel better about this situation. You're here to do what you do best. Seeming to help me. It's funny how I never considered myself tough. I fell in love with you without weighing my thoughts. I gave myself to you so easily, never putting up a fight when you had your way with me, with your fists and teeth.

"Hey, sunshine," your soft voice calls out, "how are you feeling today?"

You're so handsome walking over to me. A piece of art, as I'd always considered you to be. Sculpted by the Gods, your face so comely and beautiful. It brings butterflies to my belly every time I see your face.

Lifeless, I've surrendered myself to your ways. If I could mumble out a string of words, they'd be all about how pretty you are. You know that, right? You know you're too pretty for me, right Yunho? It was my mistake to fall for a handsome face, rather than for a handsome heart. But you went on to make me believe you were virtuous. Who knew you'd be so sinister.

You crouch down next to me. And me, unfazed by your presence, keep staring at the ceiling. I don't know what I'm thinking about, though it's certain I'm thinking about you. Ruminating mindlessly about your face, and your warmth.

"Come on, won't you sit up for me? I'm here for you." your feigned affection is a deadly concoction of hate and love. Should I even be concerned? Should I believe you like I usually do?

"Be a good girl for me, sunshine," you prompt, cupping my face with your cold hands.

"I haven't been a good girl to you, so far?" I mumble, my eyes darting to your face; you had a frail smile on your lips, murmuring, "you have."

You pull me up, forcing me to sit straighter. "You've been such a good girl for me."

"Am I really no good for you, Yunho?"

You shake your head, as if to push my worries away. "Sunshine, you are. You have been good for me."

"I just want to be yours." I whisper my words, rambling, "can I be yours? I am yours, right?"

"Yes, you are," you state, stroking away the stray strands of my hair from my face. "You're mine. And I'm yours. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yeah." I bite my tongue, contemplating speaking.

You have this look in your eye, as if you're satisfied, yet tempted to devour me. You've been doing it for a while now. Devouring me raw.

"Just tell me if I'm turning in your stomach and making you feel sick."

"No, sunshine. You're not." You lean in to kiss me, capturing my lips in haze which burns in my head.

Our touches have always sparked my desire for intimacy, our bodies are so compatible with each other. Is that why you've been cutting off my flesh and eating it? Do I taste any better? Do I make you sick? I don't want to make you sick. I love you too much for that. Our kiss blazes, growing to an intimate extent; we were lost in the carnality, in the darkness of your basement. And then, we made love for the first time.

I vaguely remember what happened afterwards, but you, taking care of me was burnt in my soul. You didn't keep me confined in your basement since then; instead, you put me in a room. It was comfortable, decorative and warm. Just like you. Though, you were delicate with me, my thighs felt sore. Why was it? Was it because you had taken away the flesh from my thighs? I felt so light. Agony was slowly creeping up my stomach, making me sick. I don't want to complain about you cutting off my body, you can have as many pieces of me as you want.

One early morning, you took me to the local supermarket. We were buying some ingredients for the meal tonight. You said you'd cook me a meal, treat me with dinner and make me forget about the pain. I trusted you. I trusted you blindly, anticipating for the night planned out in front of me. You held my hand so tight in yours as we roamed aisle to aisle, picking out the different ingredients needed for the meal. I mellowed down when we came across the dairy aisle; my mom would come here every day, grab two cartons of milk and leave. If I meet her here, I'd run up to her and embrace her in one of the warmest hugs. But she wasn't there. My heart sunk to my gut; if she was there, she'd cry.

We came back home after a long tour of the supermarket. It was almost the time for dinner preparations. The sun was setting on the skyline, painting the horizon with hues of orange and red; somewhere in the purple sky, the moon started to peek out. A world hushed with our whispers, when you lead me up to the house's attic. You said you had a surprise for me. I was eager.

Coming to the attic, my senses were numb. You had decorated that small space with all my favourite things; a shahmina sitting in the centre, fairy lights on the ceiling hanging low in curves, and countless pillows littered the mattress under the shahmina. You led me further inside, by my hand. We drifted to the night breeze crawling in through the open window. And the cold made us find a way to warm ourselves.

You kiss me then, your lips tingling on mine as I straddle your lap; we're going at it, hands roaming each other's bodies, wanting to strip each other bare. I was tugging at your leather jacket, anticipating. In some carnal enthusiasm, I do rid you off your clothes, keeping you warm to me only in your briefs. You were eager too; I could feel it in the way your cock rubbed my belly. Sinking into your lap, you break the kiss to tear my clothes off.

I watch the pieces of my dress lying around me, torn by your brute strength; wearing nothing underneath made you drool, salivate at the way my body was still holding the bruises you left behind. Every scar on my skin is a reminder of your ways with me, when you'd abuse me to your heart's content, make me mewl and whimper your name.

You don't want that now, do you Yunho?

While we're in each other's arms, pushing all our limits to be one together, the moon outside is brightening up the sky. Your grasp on me is tight, your fingers digging into the remaining flesh on my thighs; you want me so badly and I did too. I was grinding myself in your lap, getting any friction I could get from you.

"You're too eager, sunshine." You mumble, kissing my cheek and then trailing your lips under my jaw. "We've got the whole night. I'm not going anywhere. So aren't you."

I should've known what you meant by it then. But I was too engrossed in the way your hands seared my skin, pulling at my chest and tugging at my prodding nipples. Your bare fingers dance along my skin, tracing lines to my belly and then further down to my cunt; when your fingers curl inside me, I feel so cold. It was the good kind of cold. Should even I be feeling good about it? I don't know.

We made love then too. All night. You, fucking my brains out, as if I was the last person on the planet with you. God, it was so euphoric in some strange delight. We stayed in each other's arms till sun broke out from the dense of the night, we were tangled in each other's bodies; tired from all that we had done, forgotten about the dinner completely.

You told me then, "you're happier here, sunshine. You should be."

I believed you.

I believed every single word you said to me.

I believed every lie you fed me.

I believed even when I didn't want to.

I believed even when I saw straight through your lies.

You sat my dying body in front of you, staring straight through my eyes as you put a raw piece of meat in your mouth. That was me, right? You were devouring me, as you would. You're so handsome when I'm all over your mouth. When my blood smears on your lips, it makes me feel we're connected to each other on a spiritual level; we should be right? Because we're lovers.

I tried to be so good for you. I let you have me. I let you have me as you pleased. You're really breathtaking when you have me all over your face, the littlest streaks of crimson, and the sweetest taste of my flesh on your tongue. I am a good girl for you; though, as far as I'm concerned, I don't know who I am or what I am anymore. I wonder if others are missing me, worried about me? Sad for them, the only memory they'd have of me is the polaroid in evidence.

"Am I yours?" I asked with my dying breath, and you nodded your head, "all mine."

"Do I make you sick?"

"You do not."

It was then I knew, I was no longer in the position to keep going. Am I making you feel sick? I don't want you to feel sick. Am I making you feel sick? I don't want to...

Please tell me if I'm making you feel sick. I don't want to make you feel sick, I don't want you to fall sick because of me. 

────────────

In the last moments of my life, I thought about my mother; how she must have been waiting for me, sitting by the window of our old house, patiently watching me come home. But I found her in my memories, only to tell her I've made it real far.

To tell her, I never blamed her for raising me the way she did, while she was torn apart. While she had her own woes to take care of. I don't blame her for my heart, or the way I turned out. I knew just how much she was going through to raise me right.

I'll wait for her here.

"Don't think about me too hard, I know you have trouble sleeping." She'd never sleep a wink again at night, knowing what had happened to me.

"Don't worry about seeking me or my eyes. I know you'd miss them."

"Mama, just know that I love you. I really do. And I'll see you when I get here."

[narrativelysignificantturtleduck]

I don't know if you mind me asking this, but how different would things be if Jeong-Jeong accompanied Aang, Katara, and Sokka to the North Pole? Would Jeong-Jeong be ok with Pakku's sexism or would he against it? Also, would Jeong-Jeong try to save Zhao from the giant ocean spirit or would he let him die?

i don't mind at all! if you ever sent me an ask and i didn't answer it's probably just because i forgot.

i've thought about jeong jeong joining the gaang before (i think he and toph would have a fun dynamic) but having him along for the northern water tribe storyline is something i haven't really explored. i think he'd be very eager to visit the north pole, to see waterbending in action and learn more about it. the pakku dynamic would be interesting. on one hand pakku would be the person vouching for him not being a dangerous firebender (since they're both in the white lotus) but on the other hand i think jeong jeong would support katara. under different circumstances, he might be like "healing is better, why do you want to bother with combat?" but he's seen the war, he knows what she's up against and why she wants to learn to fight. and i think pakku's condescending attitude of "go back to the healing huts with the other women" would piss him off BECAUSE he respects waterbending healing. how dare you act like that's an inferior place to be!

i've mentioned before that i'd love if we had another episode in the northern water tribe exploring

why the north & south gender roles are so different

pakku actually reforming, becoming less of a mean teacher

aang learning healing

and i think jeong jeong would be especially relevant to that last one. after burning katara in jeong jeong's episode, aang is scared to firebend for fear of hurting someone again. learning waterbending healing might make him more comfortable learning firebending because he knows if something like that happens again he can fix it. and jeong jeong would want to sit in on the water healing classes out of curiosity, and maybe he'd figure out how to adapt their techniques for firebending. it could help heal both of their relationships to fire and make them more capable of being teacher and student again.

(jeong jeong still might want to hold off on lessons until after they find an earthbending teacher though. like he's got a point about learning the elements in order)

jeong jeong's role in the siege of the north would be interesting. his wall-of-fire style isn't exactly suited to defending a city made of ice, and as a former admiral of the fire nation navy he could provide information that could help them take down the fleet. maybe he leads the undercover plan, and it's more successful bc his intel is only 10 years out of date as opposed to 80. or he might avoid active combat entirely, staying in the healing hut and using his new fire-healing to help with battle injuries. in any case, i don't think he'd affect anything that goes down at the spirit oasis. whether he's in combat or not, his knowledge would probably make him more useful closer to the front lines.

throughout the whole thing, he'd definitely have this feeling of "if i hadn't come to my senses that could've been me". i don't think admiral jeong jeong was like zhao but i do think jeong jeong sees some of his past self in zhao. as a character, zhao is a one-note imperialist, existing simply to represent the fire nation's cruelty, to be the embodiment of their ideology of relentless conquest. jeong jeong as a powerful firebending military leader was supposed to be that person, but he eventually realized that's not who he wanted to be.

i think if you asked him he'd say his past self had to die. but in the moment, like zuko, he would reach out a hand. he's not cold-hearted - that's why he had to leave - and he might deep down have some compassion for his past self. caught in a horrible system, made to be a horrible person.

but zhao would reject him just like he rejected zuko, because he's not jeong jeong and he's not zuko. he'd rather die than touch a traitor. he'd rather die than show any ounce of vulnerability or regret. he's just not that deep.

...this was a really good ask thank you

[mystverse]

CURRENTLY READING & TBR - SMAU : : NCT & SKZ

CONTROL ALT + LOVE : : @strrykais

being a girl in the world of gaming is hard, that's why you've kept your identity a secret. after years of intense grinding, you have earned the title of the strongest mage player in the non-professional server. gaining the attention of an esports team they extend an invitation for you to join as their mid-solo.

having to overcome the fear of being a girl in the male dominated field, you come to learn maybe defeating boys - or specifically a certain boy - is something you could get used to.

RENT-A-GIRLFRIEND.COM : : @nerdlvr

maybe you should've deleted that stupid girlfriend rental website you made years ago. and maybe you should've ignored park jisung's very desperate request to pay for a fake girlfriend. but hey, it's easy money, not like you'll fall in love with him or anything... right?

basically, even though the rent-a-girlfriend site isn't actually in service... who would say no to $34 an hour and free dates with park jisung?

ROSES : : @nneteyamss

✰ .ᐟ summary: during your freshman year of college, you had a situationship with jaehyun. despite both falling for each other, issues got in the way, and jaehyun ghosted you. it's been 2 years since, and he never got over you, and he'd do almost anything to get you again... including writing a song to get your attention.

IN PERFECT SYNC : : @yutarot

synopsis: your dance college wasn’t the easiest to get into, let alone was it easy to stay. so what happens when your college decides they need to cut two of the dance teams from competing ever again, the ballet team and the hiphop team. will both teams get along in order to solve their connected issue, or will they fight to get their own team back to competing again? only you and hip-hop dance team captain, jeong jaehyun, can decide your teams fates. but there’s one problem, you hate each other.

or haechan accidentally sucks your blood, and drama ensues

(NOT SO) SECRET ADMIRER! : : @mrkified

huang renjun x fem!reader

never in a million years would you ever be bold enough to talk to your biology partner renjun outside of school — which is why you came up with the bright idea to leave sticky notes on his car to catch his attention

MATCH OUR HEARTS! : : @chenlesfavorite

being a love consultant is definitely a one of a kind job, but hey, all that matters is that you like it! even if that means hearing all sorts of stuff from your clients…

renjun, on the other hand, is a peaceful bakery owner… well, he was peaceful until he fell in love with this girl that visits the bakery almost every day! he’s liked her for a while but he can’t bring himself to confess and he doesn’t have the slightest clue about love… so his friends come up with the genius idea that he should go to a love consultant.

but falling for the love consultant was not on his list when he requested your help.

LOVE HURTS (LITERALLY) : : @wonbin-truther

Doctor! Renjun x reader

the first time yn ended in the ER, it was a complete accident the other times, however ... maybe there was a certain ER doctor on call who sparked the sudden visit. when Huang Renjun got his medical degree in emergency medicine, he didn't plan to use it just to treat the same girl who comes in with a new injury just to see him.

NIGHTWALKER : : @viasdreams

'No human blood' is an extremely grueling rule for Donghyuck to live by, his fledgling vampire urges, consuming his every thought. Some days, he finds himself struggling to hold onto his humanity, constantly fighting against his insatiable cravings. His human facade slips one night when he passes you, your bloody hand unknowingly guiding his monstrous actions.

CATCH THAT GOMDO! ᵔⰙᵔ : : @jungaji

synopsis: neo city zoo and aequarium have been fierce competitors for years, fighting to outshine each other. what would happen to the two attractions when you decide to pocket a cute bear keychain lying near the jellyfish display for yourself, blissfully unaware that it belongs to the infamous zoo-keeper lee haechan?

ZOOM, CLICK, PANIC ! - @nerdlvr

virgin nerd!hyuck x camgirl!reader

with your platform growing, it's about time you get your own personal cameraman! you probably should've put in the job description that the position involved working with a camgirl... maybe then sweet virgin nerd lee donghyuck wouldn't have applied for the job. now he's stuck with you, but he's determined to make it work.

alternatively, hyuck is a photography nerd who needs money for new cameras and lenses, and you're a camgirl in desperate need of a cameraman.

RIDE OR DIE : : @yutarot

synopsis; you knew very little of jeno lee, but who did? he scared most people and hated the rest. so what happens when you accidentally walk in on him removing his race jacket, identifying him as the famous, faceless f1 driver you and everyone else know under the name samo. do you run around the college telling everyone of his secret? or do you take the opportunity to strike a deal with him, a deal which changes both of your lives, forever. a fake relationship.

EMPTY PROMISES : : @mrkified

all your friends told you that lee jeno wasn’t worth it, but you didn’t listen nor care. to you he was more than the ‘empty promises’ that your friends seemed to think he gave you.

LOVE ON THE (DANCE) FLOOR : : @v1si0n

SUMMARY: jeno was not thrilled about you joining his dance team, especially because he starts messing up every time you’re around. is it really his fault that he gets distracted by how good you look when you dance?

COMMUNITY : : @peacheeeliz

PARING ⤏ nonidol!mark x nonidol!fem reader

SYNOPSIS ⤏ mark, desperate to talk to the cute girl in his japanese class, forms a study group. who knew that other struggling college students might want to join a study group?

MARK LEE VS. THE WORLD : : @winwintea

PAIRING ↬ bassist!mark lee x fem!reader

SUMMARY ↬ mark has never wanted anything in his life. the lead bassist for 'dream on', unemployed, and quite literally a loser, mark expects he's hit rock bottom from here. that is until you, the girl of his dreams quite literally skates out of his dreams and into his life. mark has never wanted anything more. but is love really worth the emotional baggage when you have seven evil exes, who each possess superpowers and are intent on defeating him?

: MYST

[asfearlessasamango]

Sorry if this is late, but 🔥 for the ask game?

🔥 pick an atla character to ship zhao with

the clownery of me writing this jokey question then me having to answer it. omg. okay. you CANT ship zhao with any northern water tribe characters— i just refuse. zhao + most main characters are also, ethically speaking, in “what the fuck” territory due to the fact that zhao is a grown man in a kids’ show and the age/power gap is way too much. bee tee dubs, if i’m going to be romantically fiddling with zhao for some well-adjusted joyful relationship, i’m also going to be planning an at least 10% redemption arc as well, as if zhao has survived his failed attack oh the nwt, and has perhaps been disowned/exiled or taken prisoner.

zhao has some options:

iroh (no) (okay it would be really funny watching zuko react but)

ozai (no. this is a strangely popular pairing, even tho it wrecks ozai, zuko, azula, and the fire nation’s entire deal. also i like the idea that zhao is an illegitimate child of sozin’s, that he is ozai’s and iroh’s brother and zuko’s uncle, so zhao is fighting for the power he believes he should have. he's so bitter and ambitious, particularly towards zuko, because of his situation. his illegitimacy is also why he’s gotten so many promotions.)

ursa (they could bond over ozai i guess? but NO bc ursa is a very passive wilting character who wished to leave and zhao is all fire and ambition— they wouldn’t be able to stand each other)

jeong jeong (more important for zhao to seek out his old teacher and apologize and learn jj's enlightened ways, i think)

piandao (huh?)

but quite frankly, for zhao to have the best most dramatic romance and plausible half-redemption arc, he must venture outside of the fire nation elite and its exes.

zhao must... date from another kingdom.

hakoda, bato, or a swt warrior (NO, because bakoda is too important)

king kuei (no??)

king bumi (no??)

aunt wu.

yes.

after failing in his attack on the southern water tribe, but wimping out of actually dying cause he's a puss puss, zhao is hauled back on board fire nation ships to promptly be exiled. his former soldiers begin sailing him to the earth kingdom, where they'll toss him ashore. it's a strange and ego-breaking trip for zhao, their former commander. none of his young soldiers will look him in the eye or pay his orders attention, not even the few that liked him. the rest humiliate him. they blame him for their loss, for the losses of their comrades. by the time zhao is literally thrown onto random sand, he's nearly glad to be kicked off his own ship.

zhao is in the middle of nowhere, on purpose. mentally/emotionally he is also in the middle of nowhere. what is he even supposed to do?? he wants power, he wants revenge on his ex-soldiers-- but he can't have the only power he wants anymore. he doesn't want to overthrow the fire nation government. he wants it to succeed. he doesn't fully comprehend that he'll never be able to go home. zhao has no idea where he is, at all.

after a few hours of sitting where he was thrown on the sand, watching his ship disappear forever, zhao realizes he has to start walking. zhao may be morally rotten, but he's not stupid-- he steals clothes from clotheslines to disguise himself as an impoverished refugee. which is totally not what he is, okay? he's just casually begging for work because he kinda needs something to do.

this is where he runs into the reality of what he and his country have done to the earth kingdom-- the first little town he finds is poor as shit. they have nothing to offer him besides a bowl of thin soup, a bed of molding straw, directions towards the next town, and a ride to it, if he shares the ostrich-horse of a young son moving there to look for work. zhao accepts. what else can he do? in his mind this life is still temporary. an adventure to recount to his cousin when zhao gets back to caldera, eventually.

the son is stupid and fascinated by this world-weary traveler. zhao wishes he'd pretended to be mute or injured. anything so he could stop mumbling a fake backstory that contradicts itself every few sentences. mostly, zhao decides to describe the time he razed an earth kingdom village two years ago as if he was one of the villagers, not the razer, and even throws in a killed fianceé so this boy will stop asking questions.

the son asks, "don't you fucking hate those firebending bastards?"

and zhao snaps, "firebending is the greatest sport on earth."

the son looks at zhao and says, "is that why you have firebender sideburns and a hoity-toity caldera accent and yellow eyes?"

the son is not as stupid as zhao thought.

zhao arrives at the next village covered in bruises, with an old injury in his leg absolutely screaming in the language of fucked-up, tied up at the hands and ankles, the son's half-hour rant against the fire nation still rambling on, and is once again promptly and literally thrown-- this time into jail. "the jail" is an old horse stable with not even a guard. it does not bode well to zhao that they believe he has nowhere to escape to.

but this village is larger and nicer, with better houses and a beautiful volcano behind them. zhao almost feels at home, looking at the volcano through the small window in his cell, for the hours they leave him there.

until gross earth kingdom farmers show up after a day in the fields and start evaluating him.

he can't be treated as a welcome guest or a new villager because... it's pretty obvious to them, after the son shouted all about it, and zhao refused to deny it, that zhao is definitely from the fire nation's military. possibly the upper ranks.

"can we ransom you?" one of the farmers wants to know.

"no," zhao says, scowling. even that bratty prince wasn't so openly stupid. "they'll kill me if they see me again."

"you must've not been a very good soldier."

zhao grits his teeth so hard they almost break. "i saw a girl exiled for eating her commanding officer's dinner," he tells them. (because zhao had just wanted to eat his own fucking dinner, okay??)

in the end it doesn't matter. they decide zhao isn't their problem to punish, but he certainly isn't their exact problem to take care of, so if he's not opposed to the idea, he could be reaching the next village by nightfall.

except zhao can walk about two feet per minute, with a cane.

let's just call aunt wu, one man says next. as zhao is sitting on the barn floor in humiliated silence, trying not to touch or massage his injured leg in front of anyone, doing the math on exactly how far he has fallen in the past 72 hours, the most beautiful woman his age he has ever seen in his life sweeps into the room. she's wearing goth white robes and raises a contoured eyelid at him.

"i knew you'd be here sooner or later. but i didn't predict you'd be so dirty," she says.

her solution is pretty simple. zhao, after being pressed but not smirked at, quietly admits that he is willing to work for food and a bed. aunt wu needs a helper around the house, for weaving, dish washing, gardening, and keeping an eye on meng.

aunt wu looks at this filthy beaten-up fire nation exile who probably has money, somewhere, and a tragic backstory, probably, and an elite family, maybe, and is just a fucking miserable unloved human and is like "this is my new poor little meow meow".

zhao looks at this single milf his age in his area, who 1000% has all the power she wants or could need, with everyone eating out of her palms out of love, not fear, (everything zhao has ever wanted!!) and this look on her face like ZHAO!! KILLER OF THE MOON (for like a minute)!!! could not do a single thing to sway her smug opinion of him, and is like "what the fuck."

thus begins zhao's campaign to overthrow/impress/intimidate aunt wu. it's two months of increasing shenanigans and shouting and zhao demanding fortunetelling just about every day (he's gonna prove it's wrong! it's a hoax! he'll kick aunt wu from grace and he'll have the power! he also maybe likes it when aunt wu holds his hand!) zhao has sympathy-kicking bouts of nightmares and trauma symptoms (you! will! sympathize!).

aunt wu, who has zhao sleeping in her small house, definitely wakes up to his nightmares in her house, so they end up sitting together nightly. it's zhao seeing this impressive woman alone at night and learning more about her lonely, impoverished childhood on the streets of a different village, where she learned to read people like open books. aunt wu, when pressed, tells him quietly about her husband, buried beyond the volcano after a yearslong withering illness, leaving her alone. how she adopted meng, an orphan of the sickness that swept the villages a few years back, when no medicine could be found.

zhao does mental math about a trade blockade the fire nation set up on the earth kingdom around then and feels sick. aunt wu presses him for details about the war and the world and he tells her how much both things suck. he describes caldera, a red-coated city where people make a living off trading cruelty. it’s not like here, he says. aunt wu raises her eyebrows. you think we’re kind here?

zhao evaluates his hands, stabbed with 400 needles, raw from scrubbing dishes, and stained with paint from a project of meng’s he helped with. he thinks about how he could not more clearly be a guilty bastard. and how wu took him in anyways, as her own problem. and how wu insists fire lord sozin was wrong to not acknowledge zhao as his son, that ozai is cruel and wrongs his own blood, that zhao is her favorite out of all the fire nation bastards.

yes, he says, and wu smiles and tilts her head, and the next morning zhao's palms apparently say that his soul has chosen a new path.

and then zhao’s leg heals. he keeps exaggerating his limp and pain to put off leaving. because he has to leave, right? he has to keep wandering around in this penance purgatory until he dies, right? or finds some shittier village to scrape by in? he keeps meaning to mention this to wu— that he’ll be leaving soon. but the thought of leaving her alone with meng again is something he can’t do.

and wu never mentions zhao leaving, either. so... he kind of just doesn't. one day he walks without his crutches or cane, and no one mentions it, and to make his intentions clear, zhao goes ahead and walks around the village all the next day to do wu's errands and shopping and comes home to her at dinner with an extra tapestry he thought she would like.

(it's ugly as fuck. zhao got it with his own money, tho, and wu is blushy anyways.)

and it's like, not a full redemption, and it's not a soulmate romance-- it's mostly fueled by foully horny middle-aged sex and practical acts of service, the nice aspects of companionship. zhao is 55 with bad joints but he can go shirtless and carry around wood to uhhh. repair aunt wu's roof with the best of them. they both learn more about what things actually, emotionally fill you up and aunt wu teaches admiral zhao where the clit is (i'm so sorry) but it is what they deserve. they deserve each other! these two ambitious bastards could help each other settle down! i'm sorry! i ship aunt wu and zhao now.

the emoji atla ask game

[barnesbabee]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ - ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ

WONDERLAND MASTERLIST ⇜ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ - ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ-  ɴᴇxᴛ ⟿

CHARACTER LIST: White Rabbit - Choi Jongho Absolem (Blue Catterpilar) - Kang Yeosang Cheshire Cat - Kim Hongjoong Mad Hatter - Choi San Haigha (March Hare) - Jung Wooyoung Tweedle Dee - Song Mingi Tweedle Dum - Jeong Yunho Bloody Red King - Park Seonghwa

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @myunvillage @mirror-juliet @jess-1404 @earth-to-leiki [Send me a DM, an ask or comment to be added to the tag list]

"Teach you what?"

"How to be a better man, how to have mercy, and compassion."

Unbeknownst to you, a little purple and pink cat watched every step you took. Of course, it wasn't because he cared. Cheshire (unlike many other Wonderland villagers) genuinely wasn't affected by your presence, or lack there of, but the Hatter had asked him, in exchange of a hefty reward, of course, to keep an eye on his beloved Y/N.

While watching over you Cheshire just did a whole bunch of growling and nose scrunching. He hated the sight of the King, and even worse, was the sight of such a man in love.

"Such a shame to be the bearer of bad news dear friend," Cheshire said, not at bothered by the fact that he had bad news to tell "but it seems as if Y/N will be our new Queen."

The cat twirled a strand of his coloured hair around his index finger, as he fell down onto one of the many chairs along with the Hatter's never-ending table.

The Hatter's eyes widened and so did his toothy smile.

"She's carrying on with the plan! She will decapitate him herself and become our Queen! Oh but I'm so happy I could dance the Futterwacken again!"

He clapped feverously and suggested a toast, clearly missing the meaning of Cheshire's words.

"I'm afraid you missed what I meant, Hatter. She will be our Queen, because she will be marrying the King."

The atmosphere suddenly became silent, eerie even. The Hatter's green, sparkly eyes transformed into an ugly, rage-filled, yellow. The man gripped the teacup on his hand so hard it broke, but the rage, disappointment, and growing heartbreak fogged his brain to the point where he didn't even notice the pain, nor the blood trickling down his palm.

The Hatter was rarely angry, but when he was, it was enough to scare poor Cheshire, who didn't hesitate in disappearing into thin air. Or he tried to. Before every bit of his body could be gone, the Hatter grabbed Cheshire's hair, making the cat groan in pain, and threw him on the ground.

"What has he done to her!? Was it a curse!?"

Cheshire caressed his head and stood up to look at the Hatter.

"It wasn't a curse Hatter, she fell in love. After you deceived her and the King showed her nothing but truth and love, the choice was pretty evident."

The reasonable explanation seemed to calm down the Hatter, whose eyes morphed back into their greenish colour. However the dread and panic in his face were still evident. Cheshire, still quite upset at Hatter's tantrum, could see on his friend's face an expression of someone about to spew a terrible, terrible idea.

"We must get her away from the Palace. It's gotten into her head. Let's get her back to us!"

The man-like cat floated back to his usual place in the air, twirling in the process. He chuckled audibly, showing his sharp canines in the process.

"Hmm yes, let's steal her away from the man she's come to love, so she could be with us, the people who lied to her for our own benefit. Sounds like a party if you ask me..."

"A party!?" Haigha exclaimed, his left eye twitching as he smiled widely at the mention of his favourite hobbie.

"That's where the King's behaviour comes in our favour," the Hatter said, patting Haigha's head so he'd sit back down "once he sees her take her beloved Queen away, he will show his true colours, Remember how scared and freaked out she was last time we saw her? She said he seemed really sweet while talking to her until he eventually snapped. Once he snaps, he will freak out and bring out the tyrant's behaviour and scare her away."

It was hard for Cheshire to admit, but his mad friend's plan wasn't so mad after all. It was possible to accomplish what the Hatter suggested, and there was nothing to lose, you already hated them anyway.

The Hatter slapped his thighs and stood up, fixing his big top hat in the process.

"Shall we go?"

Haigha was already standing up from his seat when Cheshire stopped them.

"Perhaps we should discuss the plan further... Something tells me we might need some help from Absolem and Bayard..."

Sneaking you out past the Card Knights would take a lot of help, and Cheshire had already worked out in his head the escape plan. It would take a little pressure on Absolem, as he managed to care even less about the people around him than Cheshire did, but the cat was sure he could get a shrinking cake out of the blue catterpillar. After shrinking you and hatter down to the size of a strawberry, Bayard (the loyal dog friend of Hatter's, that Cheshire tried his best to keep a distance of) would bring you to the White Rabbit's house, as it would be too obvious to come back to the Hatter's cabin.

The cat had no intention to help you, but he did like to see some drama and commotion in Wonderland once in a while, and this was his chance.

Whilst all of the furious planning went on on the greenlands of Wonderland, in the Palace you and the King sat opposite of each other on his bed, gossiping like two high schoolers.

"And then my best friend at the time, Anna, slept with my boyfriend and said it was 'because of a dare'. I forgave her because we had been friends for so long but then she told my crush that I smelled so I stopped being her friend."

The King nodded along and listened attentively (trying his best to cross his legs just like you, but failing miserably) to your story.

"Hm yes, yes, I understand. My best friend ate one of my tarts so I cut off his head."

You couldn't help but scoff at the way he compared the situations, although you reprehended him right after for the heartless act.

He had asked to know of your previous life, how it was back in your world, and so you sat there reminiscing your past for hours on end. Most people in Wonderland came from other places, but Seonghwa had never been elsewhere, as he was born in the Kingdom.

"So this establishment you call 'school', was it like a club you went to where you reunited with your peers?"

"No, no. School was a mandatory thing for all kids, we went there and a bunch of teachers taught us about different things."

"Hm, but all you've told me so far were anecdotes about these friends of yours, what were these classes like?"

You blushed slightly, realizing that in fact, you didn't remember shit from school, aside from past dramas.

"Well, they told us many things about earth, about what makes the world move, about how society works, and what makes things work. We learned about gravity, about numbers, about stars-"

"Stars!?"

The King's eyes lit up as if he was a child whom you had promised ice cream to.

"Yes, stars. Why?"

Seonghwa stood up from the bed in such a violent manner, he nearly fell. The man ran over to his closet, from where he retrieved an old book. The hard cover was beginning to tear, and the once white pages had become a weird mix of brown and yellow, but you took it in your hands nevertheless.

"This book once fell into the Wonderland when I was a child. I was alone most of the time, so it kept me company. I can tell from the images it talks about the stars, and I think I learned a lot from it since I stared at them a lot, but I cannot comprehend the alien language."

The King leaned against the headboard, and you laid beside him, placing your head on his chest, so you could hear his now nervous heart beating fast from the contact. Out of instinct, the King placed his arm around you and pulled you closer, as you opened the book.

You chuckled slightly, after seeing the author of the book and opening its pages.

"Seonghwa this isn't an alien language, it's Italian. Well, I guess it's an alien language to you, but it was funny that you said it that way... The person who wrote it was very influential back where I'm from, he taught the people of Earth many things about our space."

The male listened carefully as you tried your best to explain the things in the book as best as you could.

"This here is what we call the Solar System. It has nine planets, but only one of them has people, this one, where I live." You told him, pointing towards Earth.

Seonghwa noticed how your posture changed, after you remembered once more that you would never return home again, and panicked for a second. He disliked many things, but your tears had definitely gone up to his number 1 on the list.

"How about I ask for a picnic to be arranged in the garden, and at night we can watch the stars."

You turned to face him and smiled as you nodded. Seonghwa's thumb caressed your arm, and you couldn't help but to place a soft kiss on his lips, as a 'thank you'. No matter how many times you did that, the King never seemed to get used to it. He would always feel butterflies in his stomach and fireworks exploding on his chest. Sometimes you felt perverted, thinking of how he'd react if one day you decided to take it... further. You imagined how pretty he'd look... But you decided to take your time. Baby steps...

The King couldn't wait for dinner time, and you could tell from the number of times he had gone up to the window and pushed away the blinds to see if the sun was finally setting.

As he was staring out the window, you came behind him and wrapped your arms around his figure.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

Seonghwa looked around, to make sure no one was nearby eavesdropping. He wouldn't want your secret to being known.

You tiptoed so your lips could be leveled with his ear.

"You're adorable."

Once you got back down and looked into his gleeful eyes, you smiled.

"Let's keep this secret between us!" He joked along.

"Yes, I wouldn't want the other ladies to know and steal you away."

Seonghwa held your face and lovingly placed a kiss on your forehead.

"The other ladies don't stand a chance next to you princess."

Your cheeks heated up and you slapped his chest out of embarrassment. The King's face grew worried and confused.

"Why did you hit me? Have I done something wrong? It was meant to be a compliment I'm sorry I compared you to-"

You grabbed his face and squished his cheeks, making him form an adorable pout with his red lips.

"Seonghwa, it was a good thing. I slapped your chest because I was embarrassed, I was really touched by your compliment."

Once you let go of his face, the King tapped his chin with his index finger, in a pensive manner.

"I have much to learn about our future interactions, I do not understand many things."

You just chuckled and took his hand in yours.

"We have many years ahead of us, you will learn someday."

The small acknowledgment of your future made Seonghwa very happy. Never in his pitiful life had he even thought of being this happy over small actions... Last week the only thing that brought him joy was the sound of a traitor's head hitting the concrete floors of the palace's main area, but since you arrived, a smile was all it took for his cold heart to start beating again.

It didn't take long before one of the frogmen knocked on the door to inform the picnic was ready. Seonghwa didn't let go of your hand as you walked outside, to sit among the red roses.

You had finally come to terms with Wonderland's weird food. You had no choice really...

"Have you never been attracted to anyone, Seonghwa?" You asked as you munched down on a sandwich of... whatever it was.

Seonghwa's expression faded a little.

"Once. I had just become King and I thought that the next step would, logically, be the find a Queen. Every woman displeased me. All but one. She was beautiful, hair as dark as the night sky, tanned skin from the sun, and a beautiful mole under the eye. But she was cold, evil... I thought that it was a perfect match. After all, I wasn't the most caring person. But she would treat me like a servant. Our relationship was purely to serve a purpose to the Kingdom, nothing else. We slept in separate rooms and spent the day apart. We only dined together, but since I saw the same behavior from my parents I thought that that was love. Our wedding had been scheduled long before she moved into the castle, we were simply waiting for the preparations to be finished. Everything was custom made, from the clothes to the flowers on every table. The day before the wedding I walked to her bedroom and found her laying with a servant of mine. You know, back when they weren't... Frogs. I had them both decapitated, of course. And I swore off love forever. That is until you came along."

You flashed him a sad smile and set down your food. He looked awfully confused as you climbed onto his lap, but he didn't protest.

You brushed his dark hair away from his eyes. Both of them. He suddenly felt very exposed and insecure, but you kissed his cheek, reassuringly.

"Ever since I came down here you've shown me nothing but love, and honesty. You didn't try to sugarcoat who you are, or what you've done, and I appreciate your honesty. My place in Wonderland is with you."

The male smiled, and kissed you, a little more passionately than all of the previous times. The male's hands trailed down your ass, and pulled you on top of his growing erection.

"For someone who has never been with anyone you're quite good at this."

"Well I... I lied. I had a fiancé after all, and we laid together but we didn't get far. There was no kissing involved, she just wanted to get it over with since I was the one who suggested we should... do it. But she made fun of me for not being good at it and I became... insecure. I was insecure and for the longest time I've wanted to try it with you, because you give me those special butterflies but I was afraid I'd disappoint you."

"What a cold, heartless bitch!" You thought to yourself. No wonder he was so bad at human interactions, every relationship he had was a trainwreck!

You grabbed his face and placed a long kiss on his lips.

"Well then, let me lead at first. If you start feeling more confident, you can take the lead, if not, I'll stay in control, okay?"

The King simply nodded and kissed you once more. This time deeper than he had ever kissed anyone. Tongues fighting so intensely the King nearly missed the way your hand expediently undid his trousers. Your hand slipped inside his boxers and took out his length. You looked down at the dick in your hand and widened your eye.

"Well aren't I a lucky girl."

You spat in your hand and kissed him again, as your hand worked up and down his shaft. The King was surprisingly very vocal, and he didn't try to hide or suppress any of his pretty moans (and for that you were thankful.

You stopped your hand, right as he was getting riled up.

"Ready for something better?"

The King watched you strip from your panties, and he cursed the frilly dress that covered your womanhood, but as soon as you sunk down on his cock, all of his worries and anguishes washed away. It was automatic, the way he gripped your hips and made you bounce on him as he snapped your hips against yours was something he did naturally as if he truly knew what he was doing. You brought out something different in him, and the King was simply doing was his body was telling him to do.

You gripped his shoulders, overwhelmed with the feeling of having him inside you.

"S-shit Seonghwa, you're good, r-really fucking good."

"Oh yeah?"

He flipped you two around, so he could pound into you with all the strength he had. Your words of encouragement were all he needed.

Your consistent (and loud) moans got him on the edge quickly, and he knew he wouldn't last long.

"Y/N forgive me, but I don't think I can last much longer."

Your hand reached down and began circling your clit, so when he came inside you, filling you up with his cum, you came right after, with a loud cry for his name.

Seonghwa laid on top of you, his face nuzzled on the crook of your neck, trying to regain his breath. You ran your hand through his hair as you did the same, looking up at the sky.

"The stars sure look beautiful today."

[yoongsicles]

warning: abusive relationship, cheating

Without Me (Jeong Jaehyun ft. Johnny Seo)

Inspired by:

Jaehyun is the love of your life. You've known him since high school. He's one of the people who made your high school life tough and by that meaning, he was known as the rebellious kid who was also your bully. Funny right? Your bully is now the most important person in your life.

Because of your parents, your relationship with him has always been strained. You're wealthy, and he's nothing in their eyes, but it didn't stop you from falling in love with him. Growing up without parents and no one to connect with, Jaehyun's upbringing was very different from yours. Even if he was a jerk previously, you still admired him.

He learned to love you completely, and you assisted him in achieving his life goals. Whatever the situation, you were constantly by his side. So you believed he'd entirely matured into a better person.

You wiped your tears away and glanced in the mirror, attempting to disguise the pain in your eyes by faking a smile. When you exited from the restroom to return to the party, you were greeted by Johnny, Jaehyun's friend, who was waiting for you outside.

"Since when?" he asked, concerned, "What do you mean?" you were about to walk away when he grabbed your arm, causing you to hiss in pain. "You should've covered it properly," he remarked, referring to the bruise on your left arm that is barely covered in concealer.

You didn't know what to do. Of course, Johny would notice because aside from not being stupid, he's the only friend of Jaehyun who would constantly ask how you're doing.

"It's nothing," you murmured, but you couldn't lie; you were on the edge of sobbing, but you claimed it was "nothing." "Jaehyun has been flirting with several girls out there at a party YOU put on for his new project, but you're playing blind," Johnny says, serious.

He came closer to you and held both of your shoulders "Since when?" you knew he's referring to when did Jaehyun start hurting you physically. You broke down instantly in front of Johnny while those painful memories came back to you.

Flashback

The trust you have for your boyfriend has always been a hundred percent but when you found an exchange conversation on his phone from a random girl, you felt like your whole world just collapsed.

The exchange of nude photos and the nasty conversation could make you throw up.

"Why the fuck are you on my phone?" Jaehyun grabbed his phone from your hand and hide it in his drawer "Y-you c-cheated" you were trembling and you can't even breathe properly.

Jaehyun scoffed "Don't be stupid, that was nothing" you glared at him "Stupid? Me? I saw everything! You're disgusting!" that's when your tears betrayed you. You hit him a few times before he slapped you making you fall on the floor.

He grabbed you by the jaw while staring at you with madness "Don't you ever look through my things again" he said before leaving you there scared and shaking.

End of Flashback

You never saw the old Jaehyun after that. He's always irritated with you for no apparent reason, and he'll only have sex with you if he's needy. When you try to break up with him, he reverts to Jaehyun, who is terrified of losing you. He would tell you how terrible he is going to be without you.

The love you have for Jaehyun is much more than the love you have for yourself. You always end up losing and accepting him again not knowing that you're slowly losing yourself.

You continued sobbing on Johnny's chest while he hugs you. "You're smart and beautiful, y/n. You know what to do" he said patting your back making you calm down.

Meanwhile, Jaehyun was looking all over for you only to find you in his friend's arms. He was furious seeing you with another man so he immediately walked towards the both of you grabbing Jonny by his arm and punched him.

"Jae! Oh my God!" you panicked holding him to stop his attempt from punching Johnny again but because you're too fragile, Jaehyun pushed you and continued his business with Johnny.

Some of the guests got to the commotion helping you get up and pulling Jaehyun away from the now covered in blood, Johnny.

"Yun-o, please! Stop please stop!" you cried hugging Jaehyun from behind. One of his weaknesses is whenever you call him by his real name. You're the only one who can call him that.

"Yun-o, please" you plead hugging him tightly "I'm here, I'm just here" Jaehyun calmed down still looking at Johnny. You looked at Johnny and whispered "I'm sorry" before pulling your boyfriend away from everyone.

Even though Johnny was badly injured, you were still in his mind. Disappointed with your decision, he got up looking at the both of you walking away.

Inside your hotel room, you and Jaehyun are still hugging. He can't seem to let you go even though his hand is still covered with Johnny's blood.

"You're mine. Only mine, y/n" you nodded with your tears falling, defeated by your own feelings again.

••••••••••

more here

[bloodiisms]

Jae-Seong huffed at her statement. Not afraid of you. Brave, and stupid. "You're a medium. Ghosts, spirits, surely I'm not the worst thing you have seen yet, but certainly not the least frightening," he almost thought of her words as an insult. Maybe he'd lost his touch. Portum had made him so... agreeable. There was something so irritating about Aeri. Not like a child crying endlessly through a flight, but rather like a decadent, almost too sweet candy stuck to your teeth. Every bite a tasty revelation, every new layer a new experience, not easy to get rid of. "I simply haven't found the right reasons to bite," he suggested, his hands still deep in his pockets as he moved near her. The slight smirk on his lips didn't vanish even as she watched him carefully. He would be anything she wanted him to be. Litte fool. He could barely stand the idea of not protecting her despite his best attempts to break apart from his curse. He assumed the curse wasn't as one-layered as he once thought but a clever construct which completely changed his brain chemistry around her. Eyes glowed red then, alarmed at the sudden lack of awareness -- of himself, of her, too lost in thought, Jae-Seong furrowed his eyebrows together once he'd returned to the present.

"What exactly are you hoping out of this... pact?" Hopefully he'd learn more about her through that. Given what he'd learned about her in the past, Jae-Seong doubted there was anything in particular that she truly wanted. A game, perhaps, a little fun. "I can make it worth your while, you know. Demons do know how to play." He let his eyes wander to the side, facing her completely. Even after the pedestrian light turned green. "I can sense something unholy within you rising. Like a fog, getting thicker and thicker." He raised one eyebrow, "and I'm afraid you do like this a little bit too much. A Demon on speed dial sounds almost too convenient." He placed his pointed underneath her chin and his thumb against it, just to keep her face in place, "you can't fool me with your nonchalant, sassy attitude, Jeong Aeri."

      There was a slight twitch on her brow.   Here she thought demons to be subtle, or at least, to earn the title of masters of saying one thing and meaning the other. Pressing her lips together, Aeri wondered what could have caused this demon in particular to follow her after a tiring day at the job, especially after what had happened in the new year. As he approached her, the younger brunette felt a mix of both malicious intent and undeniable attraction coming from the demon. As if he had his claws tightly wrapped around her throat in a completely goddamn sexy way that she–wait. This wasn’t one of her dark romance books. This was real life and he was a real demon.

“I’m not scared of you.” She stated, looking up at the man walking alongside her, before grabbing her phone from her coat’s pocket and pausing the song she was listening to. “I know you keep saying you’re dangerous, that this and that, but barking dogs never bite—and no, that’s not me provoking you.” Letting out a sigh, the petite brunette knew that people were scared of what had happened, and so, she wouldn’t exactly refuse protection from a powerful being like him. Even if sometimes she felt like protection wasn’t all that he was offering and that it would come with a day where he would collect his debt. She wasn’t going crazy… there was some sexy vibe simply oozing out of him and maybe that was how he would attract his prey, but Aeri knew better. Or at least, she should have known better.

Why would she be afraid of liking him a bit too much? Worse case scenario she’d end up with a broken heart. Nothing she hadn’t dealt with before. Still, no one was here talking about romance. Aeri had fully accepted she was going to be everyone’s friend and that was that. Too nice, too sweet… people didn’t seem to find her interesting, and she wasn’t going to force herself to become interesting to fit others’ likes.

“I don’t see how getting to know me would ensure my protection.” Aeri stated as they kept walking. “I mean, you obviously know where I work. I wouldn’t put it past you knowing where I live, so…” Boldness, she had reckoned, seemed to come forth whenever she was around him. It happened at the Halloween fair, and now, it was happening again. “Well–” Aeri cocked her head to the side while looking at him as they stopped at a red light. “If you want to get to know me, shouldn’t you be asking questions?” Funny how when she was the one with questions, he’d tell her about everything and anything except for the actual answer to what she had asked. Now, she could repay the kindness. Although… she doubted it would happen. “Or are you afraid you might like me a little too much?”

[koko-bopp]

-`. NCT MASTER LIST

moon taeil // taeil

good-skin routine ♡♡

male!reader — taeil’s doing a livestream and you join in from time to time, people just love the two of you together.

suh youngho // johnny

dry cleaners ♡♘

male!reader — johnny is notoriously known as a reckless bastard around these parts, but you'd taken the time to know him, he's a little more sweeter and a little more caring than he'd like to let off,,, but just as freaky as you'd suspected.

cherry toppings ♘

male!reader — deadass has nothing to do with cherries, just two boyfriends trying to top each other but only one of them will win.

lee taeyong // taeyong

psycho ☆♡

gender neutral!reader — inspired by the song psycho by red velvet.

teenage dream ♡

male!reader — inspired by the song teenage dream by katy perry.

stress ♘♡

male!reader — your boyfriend feels heavily overworked, hearing your voice is always nice, but he found it that you helping him destress seems to be the best medicine.

3000 miles ☆♡

gender neutral!reader — you're due to be flying out of korea to study abroad, taeyong's happy for you, what boyfriend wouldn't be, but part of him doesn't want you gone 3000 miles from him.

Skirt ♘♡

male!reader — taeyong was told that you'd like to fuck him in a skirt, maybe him taking the lead this time. taeyong's not being one to back out from a challenge. 

kim dongyoung // doyoung

are you ☆

gender neutral!reader — doyoung's been busy, and as much as you convinced yourself that it wasn't a big deal, part of you just really starved of having him around as often as he used to.

muffin ♡

male!reader — doyoung works at a cafe at his university, you've recently started coming to his workplace, and he can't seem to stop fawning over you.

arrogance ♡☆

male!reader — you're determined, driven and a student who carries himself with confidence, never accepting second place as an option. doyoung mistakenly gets himself into your bad books, and yet he also finds himself crushing on you.

chittaphon leechaiyapornkul // ten

like-like ♡

male!reader — ten is telling you about the boy he's crushing on; you have to play this game of 'guess who' while playing a game of uno.

hundred miles high ♡

male!reader — ten can't seem to take his eyes off the flight attendant in first class. jesus christ, were you one hell of an attractive man. With the help of your coworker and taemin, he hopes to at least get your number by the time he reaches the united states.

jeong yuno // jaehyun

lose you to love me ☆

male!reader — inspired by the song loose you to love me by selena gomez

mean it ☆

male!reader — inspired by the song mean it by lauv & yanny.

like i need you ♘☆♡

male!reader — you've had this kind of relationship with Jaehyun for a while; the whole friends with benifits thing, and even despite the fact, you two maintain a healthy friendship. however, while all this is happening; jaehyun kind of wants more. {also very briefly inspired by like I need you by keshi}

Printing room ♘

male!reader — working in an office can be really annoying, desk jobs aren't exactly entertaining, But Jaehyun is definitely something you look forward to in your day.

mark lee // mark

wildest dreams ♡☆

male!reader — inspired by the song wildest dreams by taylor swift.

congratulations ☆

male!reader — inspired by the song congratulations by eric nam.

wong kunhang // hendrey

drinks & in love ♘♡

male!reader — you finally got a chance to meet up with your bestfriend after his concert in another country, one thing leads to a confession, then that lead to a hot session in the back of hendery's car.

huang renjun // renjun

korean ¹⁰¹ ♡

male!reader — you're trying to learn korean, and your boyfriend renjun tries his best to help you learn.

lee donghyuck // haechan

video game ♡

male!reader — you've been spending a lot of time with the other dreamies. donghyuck really really likes you, so he can't help but feel a little pouty and jealous that you can't divide more of your attention to him.

na jaemin // jaemin

popular ♡

male!reader — you're really popular at the university you're attending, especially among the girls, you're basically a dream-boy for some. na jaemin also has a little crush on you that he's been pretty good at hiding.

[apollos-son]

✎ ❝You And I, It'll Always Be Us,❞

Rating ; 15+

Pairing ; Poly Ateez

Genre ; fantasy, adventure, fluff

Tags ; fluffy, lots of adventure, magic, illusions, some mysterious men in black fedoras gee I wonder who they could be...

Trigger Warnings ; blood, violence, lots of swearing, name calling, abuse, bullying.

Summery ; In the heart of Seoul, eight supernatural men live semi-peacefully as they run through their day-to-day lives. They aren't fond of one another really, but that all changes as their red strings of fate are tied together by a mysterious force lurking in the shadows. This new connection sends them on a rollercoaster ride where they learn to love one another and fight for what's right.

I know this is unlikely but I do ask that you do not copy my work under any circumstances. Do not repost, translate or use my work without permission. Thanks :)

Smol tag list: @atiny-piratequeen , @leelovesatz , @catboy-dia , @btsheadquarters7

<- last intro • next intro ->

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Sector One

"I Feel Familiarity When Our Hands Touch."

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k.ys . . .

Yeosang knew he looked good. Out of all of his attributes, he knew that his looks were the thing that caught everyone's eye. And he meant everyone's eye. People stared at him like he was a slab of meat and it always made him feel uncomfortable. It changed his once bold and proud personality into one that was timid, reserved and untrusting. After the way some people had spoken down to him, trust wasn't easy for him to find in another. Most people didn't even think of his personality traits and instead, only focused on his body.

It hurt him. A lot. He could even say that their disinterest in the rest of his person broke him.

There was a certain point where he believed that he only mattered for his looks and it sucked. He knew he was a faerie and he was supposed to be pretty,, so that's all he was when he was younger. He wanted to make a change, he wanted it to stop. Not only did he want it to stop but he also wanted to be able to believe in himself. He wanted people to believe in him for him, not because he looked hot.

He silently sat down on a park bench alone and sighed, looking down at the grass and thinking, again, of what it would be like to be believed in. "Excuse me, human?" a rather impatient voice spoke up and Yeosang's head timidly rose to stare at a pale but gorgeous male. "I'm not a human..." he admitted, almost as if he were ashamed of it. The pale man looked surprised "Oh you aren't? My deepest apologies.... I thought you were because there was nothing.... different about you,"

That somehow set him at ease completely. There was nothing different about him. That's the opposite of what all of them said. It was always that there was something different about him. And that "different" was only that he was attractive. Now, with slightly more confidence, he nodded his head "Yes... My faerie wings were removed when I was a child, my step-parents didn't like them," he explained and the other frowned. "Well that hardly seems fair...."

They were in silence for a few moments before the pale man spoke up "Park Seonghwa," he said and Yeosang smiled at him "Kang Yeosang, this may sound strange to you but I'm glad that you aren't another creep trying to hit on me," he said gratefully, as if the other had done this miraculous deed for him. "Well.. you are attractive, yes, but it would be wrong of me to merely speak to you about your body. I know if somebody randomly came and talked to me about the way I looked I'd be slightly uncomfortable despite my confidence in my attractiveness," he said grandly and Yeosang couldn't help but smile wider.

"Ah, that sounded quite narcissistic, forgive me," he apologized and bowed slightly. "Well, if you're having issues with people,, I'd say to stand your ground if possible," he then said. "Now, I actually first said hello to ask for directions," he added after, taking a seat next to Yeosang and chatting with him for a while. The talking made Yeosang's stomach swoop and he genuinely had a wonderful conversation with the slightly older man. This was the first person who he'd talked to in a couple of years who hadn't tried to flirt with him. It was refreshing, to say the least.

From afar, a man in black watched the two and a small ghost of a smile graced his cold lips. He held up the red string of fate that was attached to Kang Yeosang between the fingertips on his left hand and he held the red string that was connected to Park Seonghwa in the other. Park Seonghwa's string had two threads already tied to it. Kim Hongjoong's and Jeong Yunho's. He attached the fourth string to Park Seonghwa's and then let go. "Everything is going to plan so far," he whispered.

[jonghoshoe]

Just Peachy :)

@tinymingi you asked and shall recieve :)))

Summary: Moving to a new place is always a little unnerving, luckily there’s a cute, pink haired stranger who makes you feel welcome.

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader

Word Count: 1-2k words 

No content warnings apply (unless you count like one swear word)

-

Moving house sucks. Especially when it's to somewhere you don't know. Not that you aren't happy with it- it's amazing to even get a house these days. But it's hardly fun to deal with all the boxes and the unfamiliarity of a new place.

Even less fun when said boxes haven't arrived yet. Seeing nothing productive to do, you've decided to explore the area, there's a few hours to spare before everything arrives so you may as well acquaint yourself with what's around you.

That's how you ended up finding a cute little corner café 'The Aurora', what a cute title.

It's fairly small on the inside, though there are a few seating areas outside too, and it seems to be a rather quiet place as well, perfect for just relaxing, especially after all the work you've been doing the past week.

The barista who serves you is a rather bright character, you mean this literally as he has a few pink streaks in his hair that shine a little under the lights. His name is Yunho, you find out from the nametag, and he seems to pick up on you being a stranger.

''New to the town or just here?'' He asks, setting about on preparing your order.

''New to the town, I just moved in today actually- figured I'd explore while I wait for everything to arrive.''

''Nothing quite like walking around a new place huh?'' He says, plating everything up (not that there's much) before he slides it over the counter, telling you your total with a cheerful smile.

''Hey- If you ever want me to show you around I'd totally be down for it! There's a few little secret places here that you might not find on your own.'' He suggests, practically bouncing on the spot.

''Maybe once I've settled in a bit more.'' You supply, it's not that you don't want to hang out with him- He's just so cute you're already getting butterflies!

Yunho smiles and nods as you walk away to a table, choosing a smaller one by the window so you can people watch.

The following day you're a little more anxious, you'd told your friends about the cute barista in your new town and now they all wanted to come over to see him- and wanted you to take him up on his offer.

So that was the plan for today, get his number and arrange a day to go out- maybe get some work done too since you'd brought your laptop.

Or it was the plan until he decided to flirt with you, saying ''One angel cake and peach tea for the peachy angel!'' with a wink.

That really shouldn't have stopped you in your tracks, it was so incredibly cheesy but he's just so- aah. You're pretty sure you already have the wings of the angel cake in your stomach.

He teases you when you freeze in place at the words, watching humorously as you stutter out an excuse.

''Ah just- your hair! Your hair is really nice, th-the streaks are cute.'' You say, the colour draining from your face when you realise you'd accidentally called him cute.

Yunho grins and shoots back, ''You're pretty cute too, maybe you should dye yours too and we can match.'' he says with a chuckle, full of confidence despite the blush dusting his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

You nod and walk quickly to your table, face flushed red as you hear him laugh behind you.

Well that didn't go at all as planned.

There's always tomorrow, you think. Settling down to get some work done- it doesn't desperately need finished now, but since you're still unpacking, you figure you may as well work on it here. The atmosphere is nice and the menu is relatively cheap, you can see yourself coming here often already.

You're distracted when you see Yunho coming over to your table out of the corner of your eye, paper bag and a coffee in hand. He flashes you a smile as he stands by the chair opposite you, ''Mind if I sit here?'' he asks. He's so cute that even your shyness doesn't stop you nodding in confirmation.

He grins happily when he sits down, pulling out his sandwich as he glances at you from over your computer screen, ''So, watcha workin' on?'' He asks.

Your response to a simple question turns into spending his entire break talking. You talk about where you're from, how long he's lived and worked here, you find out that you have some common interests and when you tell him your new neighbourhood, he tells you a friend of his lives there too and he hopes you can meet him soon.

The day continues with that accidentally happening, because apparently he's described you both to each other so now his friend is eager to meet you.

''I'm Jongho.'' He introduces himself as, walking with you as you both exit the corner store.

Jongho is a lot more quiet than you'd expected from someone who's friends with Yunho, and you tell him just that.

''Yeah, nobody ever believes us when we tell them I'm younger. Yunho is kinda like a hyperactive puppy so people never think he's the older one.'' He says, clearly having told this story a million times over.

On the walk home, he entertains you with stories of Yunho and himself, saying how they'd met during high school and been practically joint at the hip ever since. You come to learn a lot about the both of them, and in the end, Jongho and you exchange numbers when he walks you to your house (what a gentleman). He teases you about not having Yunhos number yet, but says he won't give it to you and you'll have to ask him for it yourself.

You end the night with your friends practically yelling at you over text to make a move already, you'd like to see them try and not be stuck in place by Yunhos flirtatious remarks and cute smile!

Okay, third day here, you've literally exchanged numbers with his best friend, you are going to get Yunhos. Nothing will stop you this time!

Alright, nevermind, you can't do this. You've barely even stepped in the door and you're already smitten.

He's dressed way differently today. He's wearing a giant, baby blue sweater that he's practically drowning in and he's tied his hair up in a cute little ponytail. You're almost tempted to text Jongho and ask if he planned this to fuck with you.

Alright, he's cute but you have to make your move today, you've put this off for too long.

Your ordering goes as normal, getting the same as you always do before Yunho starts talking with you, nobody else is waiting to order so he just talks at the counter.

''So Jongho told me he met you yesterday, he said you got along well?'' He says, seemingly very excited that you'd met his friend.

You confirm, and talk about how the evening had went and the stories he'd told you.

Yunho groans and hides his face in embarrassment at one of them, ''Of all the stories, he tells you the sleepover ones.'' he whines, his face almost matches the pink streak in his hair.

Your conversation is interrupted when the very focus of it enters the building.

''Jongho! Why'd you have to go and embarrass me like that!'' Yunho complains despite already gathering up what you assume is Jonghos usual order.

''What? They asked for cute stories about you, so I told them.'' He says nonchalantly, sipping on his drink once it's handed to him.

''Well- I didn't ask for specifically cute stories-''

''Yes you did.''

You kind of want to hit Jonghos coconut head with a real one for this, he just finds it hilarious that you're both equally as embarrassed now.

''Which story made him react this way? The-'' He begins to list them off when Yunho interrupts him with 'The teddy one.'

''Ah, that's a classic. Still dunno what's so embarrassing about it though.'' He says.

Yunho huffs and punches his arm, ''It's embarrassing because I'm a fully grown man who couldn't sleep without a teddy bear and had to bring it to a sleepover!''

''San literally has his entire bed covered in them, none of us were going to think it was weird.''

''But still!''

The three of you pass the time once Yunho is finished for the day, he had a shorter shift so he's happy to spend the evening sitting and talking, and he shares embarrassing stories about Jongho as revenge.

By the time the building has to close, you all agree to go your separate ways. Yunho lives in the same street at the shop, Jongho is going to a friends house to study, and you don't quite feel comfortable enough with going to Yunhos house yet to continue the conversations.

He asks you to wait at the door before you leave though, claiming he left something in the kitchen and needs to go pick it up.

When he comes back, he's holding a little bag, which he hands to you.

''I've been wanting to try something new with one of the cupcakes- I was hoping you'd try it and let me know what you think?'' He asks, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

''You never said you baked.'' You say, a little surprised at the gesture.

''Ah- well I don't really bake what's on the menu, but I thought this might be an improvement so I worked on it in my free time.'' He says with a smile, fiddling with the sleeves of his sweater.

You nod and reply that you'd give the snack a try, then you part ways as you exit his neighbourhood.

When you get home and finally sit down that night, you open up the bag, noticing the cupcake in a little container and a small pouch in the bag beside it.

You open the pouch first, curious to what's inside and notice a small teabag and a note.

''Y/N. I figured you'd enjoy this with your food, It's the same brand we use at The Aurora! You seem to really like it so I thought I'd give you one.''

There's a little smiley face scribbled next to it, and below is a phone number.

Well, at least you don't have to worry about asking for it now.

Setting the note aside, you finally open up the cupcake, It's an angel cake like what you ordered before, but you notice the cream is tinted a little bit orange. Upon tasting it, you realise it's peach flavoured, matching the tea you'd usually drink with it.

You decide to finally message Yunho, sending a quick hello and thanking him for the gift.

Yunho: So, what do you think of it?

You: It’s just peachy :)