#i did have that book on the library but now i have one copy of this book which is mine

[demonspeeding666]

Favole by Victoria Frances

[ranvwoop]

I bought an old book I loved as a kid off one of those secondhand book sites and now I'm kinda excited tbh

[britneyshakespeare]

might fuck around and buy my friend a copy of the riverside shakespeare (1973) for his birthday

side note it astonishes me that ppl are selling this book for between $50 to $100 secondhand in some places. you can get it for under 10 bucks at so many online retailers. it's a fifty-year-old tome that was commonly used as a college textbook, there are so many fuckin copies still floating around out there and most of them on the market are in the acceptable-to-good category of condition. how could one you have be worth much more than that? is yours in extra special superb condition? what?

do ppl just think everything vintage is valuable... bc oftentimes it just isn't

[visenyaism]

do you have any ideas about why so many students are struggling with literacy now? I know that illiteracy and reading comprehension have been issues for years and most americans read at like a 5th grade reading level but I’m curious why it seems to be worse now (pandemic? no child left behind?)

It is everything. There’s not one answer. I could talk about this forever so instead I set a five minute timer on my phone and wrote a list of as many of the many things that are causing this on a systemic level that I could think of:

It’s parents not reading with their kids (a privilege, but some parents have that privilege to be able to do this and don’t.)

It’s youtube from birth and never being bored.

It’s phasing out phonics for sight words (memorizing without understanding sounds or meaning) in elementary schools in the early aughts.

It’s defunding public libraries that do all the community and youth outreach.

It’s NCLB and mandating standardized tests which center reading short passages as opposed to longform texts so students don’t build up the endurance or comprehension skills.

It’s NCLB preventing schools from holding students back if they lack the literacy skills to move onto the next grade because they can’t be left behind so they’re passed on.

It’s the chronic underfunding of ESL and Special Ed programs for students who need extra literacy support.

It’s the cultural devaluing of the humanities in favor of stem and business because those make more money which leads to a lot of students to completely disregard reading and writing.

It’s the learning loss from covid.

It’s covid trauma manifesting in a lot of students as learned helplessness, or an inability to “figure things out” or push through adversity to complete challenging tasks independently, especially reading difficult texts.

It’s covid normalizing cheating and copying.

It’s increasing phone use.

It’s damage to attention span exacerbated by increased phone use that leaves you without an ability to sit and be bored ever without 2-3 forms of constant stimulation.

It’s shortform video becoming the predominant form of social media content as opposed to anything text-based.

It’s starting to also be generative AI.

It’s the book bans.

what did I miss.

[transgods]

omg i need to reread the gargoyle

[niennanir]

Listen to your elders

So last week I posted abut the importance of downloading your fic. And then three days later AO3 went down for 24 hours. No one was more weirded out by this than I was. But while y’all were acting like the library at Alexandria was on fire I was reading my download fic and editing chapter eight of Buck, Rogers, and the 21st Century. And also thinking about what I could do to be helpful when the crisis was actually over.

So first off, I’m going to repeat that if you’re going to bookmark a fic, you really need to also download the fic and back it up in a safe place. I just do it automatically now and it’s a good habit to get into.

But let’s talk about some other scenarios. Last October I lost power for over a week after hurricane Ian. Apart from not having internet or A/C I did find plenty to do, I collect books so I had plenty to read, but maybe, unlike me, your favorite comfort reads aren’t sitting on a bookshelf. So let’s do something about that, shall we?

In olden times many long years ago around 1995 we printed off a lot of fic. It was mostly SOP to print a fic you planned to reread and stick it in a three ring binder. And that’s totally valid today too, but you can also make a very nice paperback with a minimum amount of skill and materials.

Let’s start with the download; Go to Ao3 and select your fic, we’ll be working with one of mine. This method works best with one shots, long fic tends to need a more complicated approach. Get yourself an HTML download

Open up the HTML download and select all then copy paste into any word processor. Set the page to landscape and two columns, then change the font to something you find easy to read, this is your book, no judgement. This is all you have to do for layout but I like to play a little bit. I move all the meta, summary, notes to the end and pick out a fun font for the title: 

No time like the present to do a quick proofread. Congratulations, you’ve just created your first typeset. On to the fun part.

Now you’re going to need some materials:  8.5x11in paper ruler one sheet of 12x12 medium card stock (60-80lb) scissors pencil pen or fine tip marker sheet of wax paper white glue two binder clips 2 heavy books or 1 brick butter knife

You’ll also need a printer, if you’re in the US there is almost a 100% chance your local library has a printer you can use if you don’t have your own. None of these materials are expensive and you can literally use cheap copy paper and Elmers glue.

Print your text block, one page per side. Fold the first page in half so that the blank side is inside and the printed side out:

use the butter knife to crease the edge. Repeat on all the sheets. When you’ve finished, stack them up with the raw edge on the left and the folded edge on the right. I used standard copy paper, because you’re only printing on one side there’s no bleed to worry about. Take the text block and line everything up. Use the binder clips to hold the raw edge in place.

Wrap the text block in the wax paper so that the raw edge and binder clips are facing out. I’m going to use my home built book press but you don’t need one, a brick or a couple of books or anything else heavy will work fine.

Once the text block is anchored down, take off he binder clips and get out the glue.

You can use a brush but you don’t need one, smear some glue on that raw edge.

Go make a margarita, watch The Mandalorian, call your mother. Don’t come back for at least an hour

In an hour smear some more glue on there and shift your brick forward so that the whole book is covered. This keeps the paper from warping. While glue part 2 is drying we’ll do the cover. Get out your 12x12 cardstock

Mark the cardstock off at 8.5 inches and cut it. Measure in 5.5 inches from the left and put in a score line with the butter knife (the back edge not the sharp edge)

Carefully fold the score line, this is your front cover. You have some options for the cover title, you can use a cutting machine like a cricut if you have one, you can print out a title on the computer and use carbon paper to transfer the text to the cardstock. I was in a mood so I just freehanded that beoch. Pencil first then in pen.

Take your text block out from under your brick. Line it up against the score mark and mark the second score on the other side of the spine

Fold the score and glue the textblock into the cover at the spine. Once the glue dries up mark the back cover with the pencil and then trim the back cover to fit with your scissors.

Voila:

I’m going to put this baby on the shelf next to the Silmarillion.

The whole process, not counting drying time, took less than an hour.

If you want to make a book of a longer fic, I recommend Renegade Publishing, they have a ton of resources for fan-binders. 

[fictionadventurer]

I love libraries.

I'm browsing the WWI shelves (as you do) and notice a very old book about the war. I glance at the first pages that talk about how one day the war will be over and we'll look at this place and not see any signs of the battlefield.

Then it hits me. And I check the publishing date.

This book was printed before the war's end. Not written. Printed. The physical object was created in 1918, while the war in question was raging and the end was as yet uncertain.

Now I'm standing on the other side of the apocalypse, with this physical link to that era in my hands. I'm living proof that the war did end and life did go on and we can all look at the end of the world as a long-ago memory.

Reading old books is cool enough, connecting our minds and hearts through the ideas of people who lived long ago, but there's something extra profound about holding a copy of the book that comes from the time that it was written. It's a physical link between the past and the present connecting me to those long-ago people. A piece of the past come into the future that gives me the chance to almost take the hand of some long-ago reader, to hold something they could have held, connecting not just mentally but physically to their era, a moment of connection across more than a century.

Excuse me while I go weep.

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

Yuu has the audacity to ask a question. It leads to some interesting moments  

Jade Leech, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit, Floyd Leech

Jade Leech 

“Jade, can I ask you a question?” It’s not often that the library is so packed that you end up sharing a table but if it had to be with anybody, at least it was Jade.  

Jade wasn’t naturally academically smart. He took a lot of notes and studied in order to come out in the middle. There were folks that thought he was simply keeping his head down, but Yuu found out by accident. She knew Jade was incredibly street smart and people savvy though, no matter what grades he got. It worked in her favor though, as Jade let them copy notes from last year in exchange for not sharing the information anywhere. Not that Yuu planned too, but they weren’t going to pass up such an opportunity either.  

“Of course, I will assist in anyway I can.”  

“Do you have any books that you would recommend for scavenging for local flora and fauna in the woods back at Ramshackle? I’ve tried searching through the library but it’s a bit too vague for what I need.”

If Yuu had blinked, they would have missed the brief surprise and delight on his face.  

“Well,” he sets his pen down, “As the president of the Mountain Lovers club, I’m sure we could discuss that during our meetings. If only you were a member.” he sighed  

“If only Crowley would allow me to join any clubs.” Yuu muttered, “I know it's a requirement for first and second years to be involved in at least one, but he says I have far more to offer as his unofficial assistant. Unpaid is more accurate but what do I know.”  

Jade smiles, the one that matches his brothers. Wide and full of teeth.  

“Leave Crowley to me, dear Prefect. You just meet me in the morning behind Ramshackle. Bring a basket and your camera, oh, and dress warm. It'll be cold for you.”  

He writes some extra instructions on a slip of paper and collects his things, turning left at the library doors. Damn, that was straight to the headmasters’ office too. Jade really doesn't play around when it comes to the Mountain Lover's club.

While Yuu isn’t able to attend every meeting, the Mountain Lover’s club apparently includes trips to other countries, recipes cooked in the Ramshackle kitchen as well as appreciating cultures and crafts made by various peoples which slowly starts to decorate the rickety dorm into something interesting and unique. Jade becomes a different person as a traveler and seems to find joy in just exploring and discovering all the different ways that people create and eat and live.  

After he graduates, Yuu gifts him the book that the two of them created, with pictures and descriptions of all the Night Raven College fauna and flora, their uses, if they are edible, and different recipe and potion ingredients, the regions it comes from, and even snippets of stories and memories they share.  

Jade is not an emotional man, but when he asks you to come with him on his next expedition, his smile is full of joy.  

Rook Hunt

“Rook, can I ask you a question?”  

Rook looks down from his spot in the tree, a camera perched in his hands. “Amazing eyesight, Mon Trickster! I did not anticipate being found. Ask away, but be quick, less Roi de Lion suspects me.”  

“Are there any plays or poetry books that would be good for a beginner? I read a lot back home but I know there is cultural and historical context I'm going to be missing-” 

“I am so happy!” he practically drops the tree, taking both of her hands to kiss the knuckles, “I would be happy to help you. Come, come!”  

Oh, they are going to the library now. Right now. Ok, Yuu should have expected that.  

Rook is always excitable, but he’s mindful as well. Picking out smaller volumes at first, and adding some reference materials, putting a few back as he asks questions about what she has already read or what she typically enjoys. He also writes out a list for audio books and radio performances. Thank the Seven that Crowley finally got them a phone and they could excuse the data usage for school.  

“I have the films I would be willing to lend, but I would ask you be incredibly careful.”  

“Oh, I don’t have a TV or any type of DVD player at Ramshackle. We try and keep the places as authentic as possible. It helps when the ghosts come to visit on Hallow’s eve.” They don’t have wifi either and their electricity runs off a backup generator, but Yuu doesn’t mention that. They are distinctly aware of how rundown Ramshackle is, but they try not to advertise how badly.  

“What dedication you have to your dorm and the history of Night Raven College. We may do so in Pomefiore!”  

And that’s how they end up having movie night basically every Wednesday night, sometimes with other Pomefiore members or even Vil himself refreshing on the classics. Rook would sit close by, quietly explaining certain contexts and even joining Yuu on reading through some of the poetry books. His passion comes out more with his knowledge than his speech in those moments, and it’s...nice. Normally Rook is the most reserved person she knows. He’s family is still a mystery, but she’s learned more about his beliefs and insights into how he perceives life in general. 

“This is how I met Roi de Poison, you know. He enchanted me at first sight, but his mind...he understood my passion for theater, music and beauty. He respected me, once I proved that I loved him for more than his looks and roles.”  

Crazy fan he might have been in the past, it was definitely more of an equal relationship once you saw past the surface level. Yuu eventually started picking a few habits and fashion tips, slowly becoming a bit more refined. Elegant even, she might say.  

When she hesitantly asks for help with other things, it's easier each time. Help with skincare routines, or experimenting with make-up, what colors work best and how silhouettes come across. It’s never been this fun to experiment with her style. It helps that Rook, while thinking certain things definitely work, will be gentle in the things that aren’t.  

“They do not enhance your beauty,” he says, sounding like Vil, “And you are already magnifique.”  

He is the first person that she shares her book of stories with, the precognitions that she has  

“Do you think fairy tales are fiction?” He asks her, quietly skimming over the passages of Snow White. The Fairest Queen is barely mentioned, but without her, there is no story.  

“Living here feels like a fairy tale, but if it is, you’ve made it a wonderful dream.”  

Rook looks at her, a surprised chuckle slipping out. Before he can hide it, his nose crinkles, a smile wide enough to show his gums, and Yuu thinks it enhances all the best of him.  

Vil Schoenheit 

“Vil, may I ask you a question?” 

“At least somebody paid attention when I went over manners. You may.” Vil says, as he adds in some sort of lilac powder. Normally, they wouldn’t have any classes together, but with Yuu acting as an ‘assistant’ towards the teachers to make extra cash, they got to see the second and third years more than even the other first years in their dorms.  

“How do you make time for it all? Between the acting jobs, getting good grades in school, indulging in potionology and homebrew makeup in your limited free time, it seems like you get so much done with just as much time as the rest of us.”  

“Thank you for noticing.” Vil says, looking up from his potion work. “And yes, I do keep a very organized schedule. Every minute is planned and my down time is spent decompressing efficiently.”  

“Is there any articles or techniques you would recommend? Or a template you used?” 

“You could just ask me for help, you know.” he retorts, huffing a bit.  

“I know I could, but I also want to be respectful of what you have on your plate.”  

“Ah, potato...I have plenty of time, especially in this season. I don’t schedule anything this close to finals. Come sit with me this evening for dinner and we will talk goals and progress markers. There is more to this mentally than most people think.”  

Vil is a bit less than impressed when he sees just how much Yuu accomplishes for Night Raven College with no credit and makes a note to talk to the teachers and Crowley about getting her properly compensated or at least. But overall, it goes well, making time for exercise, hobbies, studies and even some time with him. Telling her about the techniques he used and actually practicing them were two different things, and some things are just easier to show rather than tell.  

“Alright, let’s start here.”  

Mindfulness, ironically for somebody outside Scarabina, is important to Vil. Sinking fully into the experience of his daily life, looking at all the colors, enjoying his foods with no screens, or just enjoying the quiet while he removes makeup. His decompress is like a valve that he releases in minutes throughout the day, not hours at the end of it.

“This takes practice. Don’t discourage yourself if you don’t get it every time, eventually it will come more naturally.”  

And it does. Over the months, Yuu feels more productive than ever, even finding time to wonder about her own style. It is a bit embarrassing when Vil enters Ramshackle to use the Guest Room to study and sees her hastily trying to wash off eyeshadow. 

“Oh, spudling, not your color. No, no, here.” He sits, and teaches, a bit harshly at times, but he wouldn’t be Vil if he wasn’t direct. Much like Riddle, he fully believes that people can reach his level, and sees no reason why they shouldn’t. And while Yuu will never be Vil pretty, she certainly feels more beautiful and confident now than she ever has before.  

It isn’t until Vil is reviewing one of his performances that Yuu makes a comment, some offhand remark about the script not quite matching the vernacular expected for the period, that he invites her to sit and review more.  

Yuu doesn’t think it’s anything spectular, it’s kind of obvious, but apparently it wasn’t to the rest of the audience.  

Vil sits at thier usual tea table in the Night Raven Gardens, and slides a ticket over to her.  

“If you have time. I know you recently picked up a few photography jobs in town that would be a shame to miss. Rapport with clients is key, you know.”  

It’s the red-carpet event to a 5th year anniversary movie he did as a child. All glitz and glam, showing just how much they have grown as actors and people since their debuts. It’s a milestone even for Vil, the first and only role where he was played a supporting role that wasn’t a villain or antagonist.  

“What colors are you wearing? I might have something that compliments.” Yuu asks, already going through their mind for anything suitable in Ramshackle.  

“Well,” Vil preens, opening his laptop. “We will just have to buy something together to ensure we match, won’t we? When are you free?” 

It’s so small Yuu almost misses it, but hidden underneath his painted blush is a heated blush, quiet and pink and delighted.  

Floyd Leech

“Floyd, can I ask you a question?”   

Floyd doesn’t even bother looking up from his spot at the table, “Better not be a boring question Shrimpy, or I’ll squeeze ya~” 

“Where do you go to get your shoes repaired?”  

His head snaps up just a bit, left eye brighter than usual.  

“Ace had mentioned that your sole had torn during practice,” Yuu continues, feeling like they have to explain themselves with how intensely he was staring, “But the next day it had been stitched back on like new. There are some fantastic leather boots from the old NRC uniforms that I'd love to use, but I’m trying to find somebody who won’t butcher them or tell me they aren’t repairable just cause there old or out of style, you know?”  

Floyd nods, eyes still searching before ultimately just shrugging his shoulders. “Hmmm...at least it wasn’t boring. Meet at Monstro Lounge at 6 lil’ Shrimpy, bring the shoes!”  

He walks away before Yuu can even say that they have to meet with somebody else, but that really isn’t a possibility when a Leech brother has demanded your attention. Looks like you’ll have to reschedule with Deuce.  

The Monstro Lounge is fairly steady, though Yuu has never seen it slow. Always some sort of deal or exclusive that sets these rich bastards running through the doors, even if it’s just so they don’t have to deal with the lines in the cafeteria or cook their own food.  

Jade waves you in, taking the box from your hands in a gentlemanly manner, and leading you to the side. Floyd is quick to intercept, mumbling a thank you before his long strides leave you almost jogging.  

“Alright, let’s see what we are working with.”  

The dorm is clearly shared between him and Jade. Crisp white walls, a seashell and sea motif on the desk and headboard and some floating shelves that look vaguely like drift wood, exactly what she expected from Octanvinelle. But that’s about all the two sides have in common. Jade’s is organized, of course, but notable is the terrariums on the shelves and a stack of geology books tucked into the corner, along with photos of places he may have been or plans to go.

Floyd’s half is a mess, yes, but it’s organized chaos, like looking at Ace and Deuce’s dorm. High protein snacks are tucked on the shelves, completed 3D puzzles, and...fashion magazines? Huh, he did say that merpeople didn’t really have a reason to wear clothes so land peoples being so obsessed with it would be interesting, especially in different regions or cultures. And the trends are constantly changing. It actually started fitting, the more Yuu thought about it.  

Floyd set the box on the desk, picking up the shoes and bending them this way and that, pressing on the heel or pinches the toe.  

“You’ve taken good care of them,” He says, “The stitches are loose and the nails need to be hammered back in, but the leather is clean and strong. I’d get some new leather laces though, the wax on these has completely frayed from misuse. How old are these?”  

“They're from back when Ezra and the others went to school, but they don’t have a great concept of time.” Floyd raises an eyebrow. “Oh, the ghosts at Ramshackle.”  

“Huh, no wonder it felt like the place was trying to kick us out.” Floyd walks over to the walk-in closet and Yuu has to double take. She would have mistaken the closet for Jade’s! On the left, the clothes are hung neatly on the rack except for the everyday items like the basketball or school uniform which have their own spots hung neatly on the door itself. Below that are clear boxes that seem to hold all sort of tools. Are these hobbies that Floyd has picked up and gotten bored with?

But the right side of the walk in closet is just racks and racks of shoes. Wing tip dress, loafers, even a few kitten heels and red backed stiletos. All perfectly shined and displayed.  

“Floyd, you repair your own shoes?” Yuu taking the box he hands her.

“When you are as tall as me and Jade, you end up having to customize and fix a lot of your own clothes, unless you wanna pay some stupid prices, and standing there while they pin and stuff is boring. I’d rather just do it myself.” He takes out a wicked looking needle and a stand, securing it to the desk with a flick of a lever. “Which pair is your size?”  

“Oh, these.” she says, picking up a pair of loafers and ankle boots. “I can’t afford for you to do this for me Floyd. I don’t have the funds right now.” 

He just leans against the table with a laugh, “Oh, I aint doin’ it for free. Your gonna pay me by letting me keep a pair, specifically those.”

He points to the bottom of the box, a pair of thigh high riding boots from what she can tell.  

“Those are the ones in the worst shape?”  

“Oh, I won’t be able to get them to their original form, but I can lengthen the sole and toe area a bit, add a heel, and have a wicked pair of thighs high stilettos that’ll have even Betta fish jealous~” 

“With your legs, you’d look really good in a skirt.”  

They both blink.  

“Shit, sorry, my mouth ran-” Floyd laughs, something softer than usual.  

“Your damn right Shrimpy.” He smiles, “I do look damn good in a skirt. I prefer dresses though.”  

He takes a seat, motioning for her to take the other side, sets the shoe inside the stand, and starts explaining the process. It doesn’t always make sense but he’s clearly passionate about it.  

This might be a truer version of him, Yuu thinks, seeing him carefully take out a rusted nail to pull out a fresh silver one from an even smaller box. One that isn’t bored or moody, but just...getting able to do something that actually interests him.  

“Hey Floyd. Do you want to go thrifting with me and Kalim on Sunday? I think you’d have some interesting things to say about some of the finds, especially the clothes mart. They literally have a bin of vintage pieces for a dollar a piece.”  

He leans back, and does that smile again. All teeth but his eyes relax, all boyishly charming.  

“You got all the audacity in the world, don’t you?” He chuckles, “I’ll get my shift covered.”  

[amazinglyashy]

Hi , I love your LADs works it fits the would be characters reactions according to their personality and I look forward to your work. Can I request a LADs men reaction to reader reading smut manga or BL smut , only if your comfortable with it. Thank you and All the best for your future endeavours 🥰

I have a tab I'm going through right now of a bunch of josei manga and then I open tumblr to this ask LMAO I feel personally attacked, so of course anon! Thank you for the sweet words, and for the request!

Love and Deepspace Li’s reactions to discovering you being an avid smut reader

Sylus -

He is such an evil person.

If he manages to find a physical copy that you own, he's going to read it and he's going to do it in his own time when he knows you'll be coming over soon. He times it just right where he'll be near the ending by the time you get there.

You walk in to him looking absolutely exquisite in reading glasses, a small smile on his lips as he leans back in his chair to ask you how your day has been- book in hand.

The embarrassment is real, even if you claim to not care about 'cringey' things and consuming them. Your love is sitting there with a smutty book in his hand and a knowing grin, and you can't help how hot your face is getting.

"You know, if you like something, you should just tell me, kitten."

Maybe he's referring to the contents of the book, maybe he's referring to your general enjoyment of the genre, you can't tell. He does mean both, though. He would buy you a library worth of smutty books if it made you happy, and he would get all the needed supplies to commit the same acts the characters do for you the next time the two of you have a session.

"Did you really think I'd be upset by something like this, sweetie? You're cute. I'm glad you found something you enjoy. In the future though, don't keep secrets from me. I want to know about you. Everything, about you."

Rafayel -

He will come up behind you to ask you something, and realize that you can't hear him due to being engrossed or having headphones in. He doesn't mean to snoop, but your screen is on display for him, and you don't know he's there.

Oh, he's so happy he decided to try and ask you something.

By the time you realize he's behind you, it's too late, and attempting to shut off your phone proves unsuccessful because he's already giggling.

"How much did you see?!"

"Not much."

"Liar!"

And you're right, because after a moment of silence, he will proceed to recite the last page you had been reading, ducking out of the way as you jump up, your face reddening, as you chase him around the room.

He doesn't care in the slightest. In fact, he will absolutely surprise you with shipping merch from whatever it is you've been reading, and remind you when new chapters are about to drop in case you forget due to stress at work.

Rafayel will also ask you how certain characters are doing, or how certain relationships are coming along. If you enjoyed watching soap operas, he's absolutely the one to watch over your shoulder and ask you questions to catch up.

He still makes rude quips here and there, but you know he doesn't mean anything by it, and the involvement is strangely comforting.

Zayne -

He's known for a long time. Benefits of knowing you when the two of you were younger, he has a pretty good read on the things you might or might not enjoy without needing an explicit answer.

That, and you left a doujinshi on his coffee table once after you used his spare key to break into his home to clean and surprise him with dinner after you had gotten off of work surprisingly early.

No, he won't let you live it down.

He will find a way to calmly bring it up in the most absurd and unnecessary situations. It's his own little running joke that makes you so adorably frustrated, he can't help but continue it.

He'll find other ways to tease you about it, much like how you occasionally tease him over his sweet tooth despite you loving snacks just as much as he does.

Sometimes though, he likes to throw you through a little bit of a loop.

"But also, if there is any content in what you've been reading that you believe you would enjoy, please don't hesitate to let me know."

"I enjoy all of it, that's why I read it, Zayne."

"I assume you misunderstood me, so allow me to restructure my sentence. If there's anything in what you've been reading that you would like done to you, I would like to know. I would love to do those things to you, whatever they might be."

Xavier -

He has purchased you some of these books and ebooks.

Probably the Li that would know the soonest out of all four of them aside from Zayne, just because he kind of just... assumed, much to your own mortification when he told you this fact months ago.

He doesn't give a crap though, it's something you like. He doesn't see any difference between it and the claw machines, even though there is an extremely stark contrast between the two. He used to see no point to the claw machine games you'd love to play, but quickly saw the appeal when he got to play with you.

Maybe he can't share your enjoyment for this, but he does love sitting in the same room as you, reading together even if the two books being consumed are vastly different in content.

He just enjoys your company, it really doesn't matter to him what you both do, or in this case, enjoy during that time.

He thinks its really cute and endearing, especially if you reach a point in whatever you're reading that gets you squealing out loud. Because not only is it absolutely adorable to hear, it's also nice because he knows it means you're comfortable enough to react out loud to your reading, even if it's a rare occurrence.

It's nice to know you're relaxed around him, in every capacity.

[moonchild9350]

Prey

Summary: In a world where vampires and humans coexist albiet not peacefully, you come to realize everything is not as it seems after meeting Hyunjin.

Pairing: Vampire Hyunjin x fab reader

Genre: thriller, fluff, smut 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: stalking, coercion (briefly), breaking and entering?, description of blood (obviously), blood tasting, nipple play, fingering, monster fucking, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, squirting.

Notes: This is my first fic for my spooktober event! Yes this is a vampire fic. I had fun with this and added my own twists to what we know as vampires hehe so don't come after me lol. I hope you like it and it gets you into the spooky mood hehe.

If you enjoyed this, likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated as they keep me motivated ♡

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

“Night is purer than day; it is better for thinking and loving and dreaming. At night everything is more intense, more true.” -Ellie Wiesel

You’ve never been afraid of the dark. You could sit in a dark space for hours, listening to the sounds around you, feeling the air move through your fingertips. No, the dark never bothered you. What you did fear was what is lurking in the shadows, creatures of your deepest nightmares watching your every move, waiting to pounce on you.

You felt like prey at night, always feeling like you were being hunted. You lived in a world that included vampires, creatures of the night mostly.

Growing up, you were told to avoid them at all costs, that they were dangerous, cunning, beings that shouldn’t walk the earth. Your mother instilled these thoughts into your head, making you promise to never associate with one of these beings.

Not wanting to upset your mother, you promised, the fear taking root deep in your core. Now as an adult, you still kept that promise. You never interacted with them, avoiding them at all costs if you could. You also made sure to be home before nightfall, afraid for what was lurking in the dark or who.

You were mindful of this fact as you prepped for the day. You needed to go to the library to work on a project for work, which would take up the majority of your day. Packing your bag, you grabbed a sweater and left, making your way to the town’s local library.

It was a cool day, autumn in full swing. The leaves were changing colors to vibrant shades of red, orange, and yellow. Some leaves already have fallen from the trees, landing on the sidewalk, the crunch echoing as you stepped on each one.

You hoped your friend had made it to the library first, making sure to get the good seats. You knew she would have a warm London fog with her, as she knew what your favorite drink was.

It didn’t take long for you to arrive, the old building looming in the center of town. You marched up the steps and opened the door, a burst of warm air enveloping you like a cozy blanket. You scanned the area, looking for your friend Aria, finding her at a desk next to one of the many windows.

She was engrossed in a book, her nose almost touching the pages. You chuckled and walked over before blowing on her face, startling her. She narrowed her eyes at you while clutching her chest, “that wasn’t very nice.”

You grinned, pulled out a chair and sat down.

“Is that for me?” You asked, hope in your eyes as you eyed the cup next to her.

“It is, although you don’t deserve it after the stunt you just pulled.”

You rolled your eyes and reached for the drink. “So dramatic. Thank you.”

Aria stuck her tongue out at you and then went back to her book, her nose once more barely touching the page.

You started to unpack and set up for the day, gazing through your list of things to do. Opening up one of the books you brought with you, you started to skim through it looking for information for your project.

You became lost in your work, the silence settling around you, the only sounds heard were the occasional rustle of paper. You were making progress, however, you needed more books as references. You signaled to Aria that you were going to go look for more books. She nodded her head and went back to reading as you got up and stretched your legs.

You walked over to the non-fiction section and started browsing the titles, looking for anything that may be useful for your project. You were so engrossed in searching that you didn’t see the man standing in the aisle, book in hand. You bumped into him causing him to drop his book, startling you.

“Oh, I’m so sor…” your words died off as you looked at the man before you.

Your breath caught as you eyed him, taking in his looks. He was tall, looming over your figure easily. His face was beautiful, reminding you of Adonis. His eyes were a dark, chocolate brown, the orbs piercing, but yet gentle. You felt lost in his gaze, as you forgot where you were, your mind going blank.

The man smiled at you, reaching out his hand to brush the hair from your face. The action made you snap out of your reverie, shaking your head to clear the fuzziness within your brain. You knew what he was, the very creature you vowed to stay away from.

“Are you ok?” The man spoke, his voice silky, smooth, and deep.

He peered down at you, holding your gaze as you tried to look anywhere but at his face. You didn’t want to engage with him and were looking for a way out. Before you could run away, the man brought his hand to your chin and had you look him in the eyes.

You tried to look away, but to no avail as he held your head steady. He looked deep into your eyes, his lips slightly parted, a grin forming on his face. You felt calm and less terrified, your body relaxing with each passing second.

“Are you ok?” The man asked again.

You shook your head as best as you could, “yes, I’m ok.”

The man smied, his dazzling teeth on display. “Good. My name is Hyunjin. What’s your name gorgeous?”

You intently listened as Hyunjin spoke to you, eager to hear more of his voice. Clearing your throat, you replied, “Y/n.”

Hyunjin hummed in acknowledgment. “Such a pretty name. Fitting for such a pretty girl.”

You leaned more into his touch, wanting to be as close as possible to this man. However, something felt off, but you couldn’t place your finger on what. With much difficulty, you searched your brain, trying to understand why the interaction felt off.

Hyunjin continued to look into your eyes, his face searching yours for any clue as to what you were thinking about. With sudden clarity, you understood why things felt off. He had you under his charm. Yes, that was it. You could vaguely sense a different scent than before, the smell of bergamot and patchouli gracing your senses.

You focused on this thought deep within, trying to break through his spell. It was difficult as he was a vampire so to say, their spells not easy to break for the average human. However, you fought hard, willing yourself to unleash yourself from his charm so you could run away.

Suddenly, you felt like yourself again and with a breath, slapped his hand away, shock gracing his beautiful features.

“Get your hands off me,” you said, your eyes laced with fear but also anger.

Hyunjin stared at you in shock and slight awe. You were actually able to break his charm. No one has ever done so, not in his hundreds of years roaming this earth. He already thought you were beautiful, your calm demeanor sparking a flame within him he hasn’t felt in centuries. But now? He was fascinated and he wasn’t going to forget you anytime soon.

He watched as you turned on your heels and quickly walked away back to your friend, your strong scent of lavender and honey lingering in your wake. He quickly said a quick spell, satisfied once he was done. Your paths would cross again, sooner rather than later if he had any say.

Adjusting the ring on his finger, he made to leave, slowly strolling out of the library into the night air.

You made it back to your table, pulling out your chair and sitting down. You tried to catch your breath as you held a hand to your chest, feeling the rapid pounding of your heart. What the hell just happened you wondered. Did you really just cross paths and actually interact with a vampire?

You were terrified. You hoped to never see him again. Surely you won’t right? You were lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear Aria call your name. Snapping your head up, you looked at your friend.

“Are you alright?” She asked as she looked at you anxiously. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

Close to it you thought. “I’m fine. Just…saw a rat and ran away.”

“Ewww, really?! I would have screamed.” Aria said, none the wiser to your lie.

She went back to her book, not paying you any more attention. You attempted to continue to work on your project, however, your mind was preoccupied. You couldn’t get Hyunjin out of your head.

You knew vampires were gorgeous, their beauty being one of the points that lured unsuspecting humans into their grasps, but you didn’t think they could look that beautiful. Your mind was all over the place, not able to focus on the task in front of you.

Finally givng up, you decided to pack up and go home. You explained to Aria that you were leaving. She merely waved you away.

“Text me when you get home,” she said, not looking up from her book.

Grabbing your bag, you made to leave. You cautiously walked into the night, the darkness settling in around you. You had stayed longer than you had liked. Not many people were out and about, as it was late. You listened to your surroundings, the occasional hoot from an owl reaching your ears.

The moon was bright, casting a glow to illuminate your way. You hummed a song as you continued to walk home, feeling at ease for the first time since you had that chance encounter, given the circumstances.

You were almost home when you felt odd, your senses tingling, as if someone was watching you. You looked around you, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Seeing nothing, you shrugged your shoulders and continued on your way. You did not see the figure lurking in the shadows, watching as you made your way home.

It didn’t take much longer to get home, your apartment being a short distance from the library. You walked up the steps to your door and stopped in your tracks. Lying delicately on your doormat was a kadupul flower, in full bloom.

You quickly looked around, looking to see who could have left such a flower at your door. You felt uneasy. Picking up the flower, you unlocked your door and quickly slipped inside, latching the deadbolt in place. You looked at the flower in your hand, the rich, white petals in full bloom.

You walked over to your sink, and found a vase, filling it with water and setting the flower inside. You made your way to your bathroom to shower, trying not to think about the odd events of the day. You walked through your night routine and once finished, slid into bed.

Turning off the lights, you laid underneath the covers, staring at the wall. You tried not to think of Hyunjin, as you willed sleep to come. It must have worked, because before you knew it, you dozed off, succumbing to sleep.

As you slumbered, a figure loomed over you, watching as you slept peacefully. Hyunjin was happy you accepted his flower, bidding him to come inside your house. After all, it was one of the ways vampires were granted entrance into someone’s home.

Now that he is able to come inside, he can watch over you more closely, get to know you, your routine, and if he plays his cards right, you’ll be his before the end of the fortnight. For now, however, he’ll watch over you tonight, and make sure you have sweet dreams.

The next morning, you awoke feeling oddly refreshed. The sun was shining, you could tell as the rays threatened to break through your curtains that you had closed. You stretched and got up to begin your morning routine. Your day wasn’t terribly busy, only having to go into the office briefly to meet with one of your colleagues regarding the project.

You happily sipped at your coffee as you read your book, the events of last night forgotten. Now that you think about it, you had pleasant dreams too, which was a nice change from the typical nightmares you usually get. You didn’t dwell on the thought too long however. You were just happy to finally get some sleep.

The time came when it was time for you to meet your colleague, so you fixed your hair and grabbed your bag, before making your way outdoors. The walk was pleasant, the warm sun gently warming your skin. You smiled, feeling truly happy.

Now that made you think, as you haven’t felt true happiness in a while. It was sad to even have to consider why you felt happy. Maybe you shared a funny joke with Aria or had a great conversation with your family on the phone that you can’t remember. Neither option seemed right however.

You felt confused, a frown slowly gracing your features. You felt like a part of your memory was gone and you weren’t sure why.

Hyunjin watched you from afar, the spell he placed on you yesterday at the library alerting him whenever you left the house. He followed you as you walked to your destination. You seemed happy enough. It didn’t seem like you remembered him or your encounter yesterday.

However, your demeanor changed, your stride slowing, a frown appearing on your beautiful face. You seemed lost in thought. He didn’t approve of your anxiety and confusion. He wanted you to be happy. The other spell he casted over you last night must already be wearing off sooner than usual.

Maybe he needs to back off a little, let you get back into your daily routine. Hyunjin did not want to mess this opportunity up. He’s already told the others about you. They are very eager to meet the mysterious human that has preoccupied their friend.

Yes, he will back off. He will let you go about your life and then when you least expect it, re-approach you. He is certain he will succeed at his next attempt to make you his.

Your days passed quietly, nothing out of the ordinary occurring. You filled your days by going to work and back home and occasionally going to the library to continue working on your project. You met with Aria a few more times, grabbing coffee or food depending on how much time you both had.

You had just arrived home after a long day at the office. You were more than ready to relax, ready to binge watch your favorite show while stuffing your face with pizza. Once you placed your order and changed into more comfortable clothes, you made up your home on the couch for the next few hours.

However, you happened to look over and notice the flower, still in its vase from a week ago. Who gave that to you again? You couldn’t remember. Shrugging, you decided to toss it, as the flower was shriveled up and appeared to be dead. Once you were done, you sat down and flipped the tv on, pulling up your show.

You were already an episode in when you heard a knock on the door. Thinking it was your pizza, you skipped happily to the door and swung it open, ready to greet the pizza delivery person.

Instead of pizza however, there was a dozen of the same flower that you just threw away. Startled, you looked up, looking this way and that to see if whoever left them were still around. Nightfall had fallen, quiet had descended upon your town.

A shiver went down your spine, unease settling in within you. You noticed a note on top of the flowers. Picking up the square piece of paper, you unfolded it and read what was written inside:

Time may pass but you become ever more beautiful. Await me my love for we shall be reunited soon.

Now you were scared. There was no signature indicating who left the note. It was handwritten in beautiful script, the words written carefully upon the piece of paper. You needed to get back into the comfort of your home and it needed to happen now.

Against better judgment, you picked up the flowers and brought them inside. You filled the vase with fresh water once more and set them inside. You stared at the flowers, not yet in bloom. You placed the note next to the vase.

You could feel your senses go into overdrive as your body went into fight or flight mode. You became aware of every sound around you, listening for a potential intruder after this strange event. You jumped when you heard another knock on your door, hearing the person on the other side say ‘delivery.’

Taking a few deep breaths, you made your way back to your door, unlocking it to take the pizza. You thanked the man and closed the door, once more in the safety of your home. You made sure the door was bolted before sitting down on your couch.

You weren’t really hungry anymore, too on edge after finding the bouquet of flowers. You turned to look at them, letting out a gasp as the flowers had since bloomed. They sat within the vase, an ethereal look to them as the petals lay spread out. You sat in shock, just staring at the flowers, not noticing there was another presence in the room.

Far too late, you turned your head to notice a man sitting next to you. You let out a scream, the color draining from your face. You cowered in the corner of the couch, your muscles tense and ready to run at moments notice. When did he get in here? Something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place where you had first seen him.

“Hi angel,” the man said as he looked you in the eyes.

You let out the breath you were holding, your body relaxing little by little as you stared at the man in front of you, a feeling of calm spreading throughout your body.

“Do you remember me?”

You started at the man, your mind a jumbled mess as you tried to make out the situation. A strange man somehow broke into your house and is now sitting in front of you asking if you remember him. You felt strange on top of that, oddly calm given the situation.

“I see you got my flowers. They look beautiful just like you love.”

You struggled with your conscience, trying to overcome this fog that was placed over you. You looked in horror as the man scooted closer to you and gently grabbed your face. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your vision blurring as you felt tears prickle the corners of your eyes.

You fought internally with yourself, trying to break through the fog. As you struggled, the man was leaning closer and closer to you as though he was going to kiss you. You closed your eyes at the last second, squeezing them shut. You felt his soft and pillowy lips brush yours.

You needed to wake up now, or who knows what will happen. At this, you felt the fog lift, your mind clear once more. You screamed and scrambled back as far as you could go away from the man.

He stared back at you, his hand in midair as if he was still holding your face.

“Angel, don’t be afraid.” He said.

“Who are you? How’d you get in here? I didn’t give you permission to come in!” You all but screamed.

The man in front of you sighed. “Perhaps I left you alone for too long. My name is Hyunjin. We’ve met before.”

He stared at you long and hard as his words sank in. You looked terrified, your body shaking in fear. He didn’t want you to be afraid. He wanted you to feel at ease around him, he wanted you to want him, to be his.

“You brought the flowers inside your house. They have a spell on them, one that grants me entrance to wherever the flowers reside.”

You listened to every word he said, fear still coursing through your body.

“Why? Why me?” You said, your voice shaking with each word.

You tried to take deep breaths, as you felt dizzy, feeling like you were going to pass out.

“Please, angel. Don’t be afraid. We are meant to be. Let me show you. Please.”

Hyunjin had a pleading look on his face. He made no further move to get closer to you, respecting the distance placed between you two.

“You’re a vampire. How are we meant to be? I’m a human.” You said, rolling your eyes.

Hyunjin looked sad, his eyes falling at your denial of his advances.

“If I can show you how we were meant to be, will you accept me? One night, that’s all I ask angel.”

You looked at Hyunjin, really looked at him, searching his face for any deceit. He was a vampire after all. You thought long and hard, as the shock of a strange man in your home wore off. He’s a vampire, he can’t be trusted. He just wants to use you and once he’s done, he’ll kill you.

Why trust him? Yes he was staring at you with his beautiful eyes, but you didn’t want that to distract you from the fact that he just cannot be trusted.

“Please angel,” he pleaded once more.

You considered his plea once more. You were about to make a dumb mistake, but before you could change your mind, your mouth opened forming the words ‘yes.’

Hyunjin smiled at you, his brilliant teeth glowing in the low lighting. “Excellent! I will pick you up tomorrow night.”

He quickly got up and walked over to you. You tried to scoot back but found you had nowhere to go. You froze in place as Hyunjin approached you and grabbed your face once more. He slowly leaned down before pressing his lips to yours in a brief kiss. Before letting you go, he nipped at your lip, pulling at the flesh before standing up.

“Get some rest angel, you will need it.”

With that Hyunjin was gone, disappearing in thin air. You were shocked, your eyes never leaving the place where he was standing just moments before. You reached up and touched your lips. Did that really happen? Are you really going to give a vampire a chance?

You knew your mother would be disappointed if she were she alive. Oh well however, the deeds been done. Tomorrow your fate would be sealed.

The next day, you were anxious, your hands slightly trembling, your mind unfocused. You didn’t know what to expect tonight and that was driving you insane. You paced the floors, unable to sit still for too long.

What were you expected to wear? You didn’t think to ask that last night. On top of the anxiety, you were scared. What if he killed you once he was done showing you whatever he wanted to show you? Your mind was riddled with thoughts, none of them the typical thoughts you’d have before a date.

As dusk approached, the orange and pink sky showing through your windows, you decided to get ready. Somehow you knew exactly which outfit you wanted to wear. You chose a white dress with cross ties in the front. The hem of the dress had asymmetrical ruffles. You thought it would be a perfect contrast to going out with a creature of the night.

You did your makeup and lightly curled your hair. Spritzing some of your favorite perfume, you were ready for whatever the night brings.

You heard a soft ruffle behind you and you turned around in shock. Standing before you was Hyunjin. He was dressed nicely, making him look even more handsome. He eyed your outfit, a smile slowing forming on his face.

“You look gorgeous angel,” he purred reaching a hand out towards you.

You took his hand and watched as he placed a soft kiss on your hand, his lips lingering for a few moments. You felt yourself blush, the heat rising to your face.

“Ready?” He asked as he straightened up.

You shook your head yes, ready for whatever he had in store. Hyunjin smiled at you and took your hand, his fingers gently lacing with yours. He led the way, out the door, down the steps, and onto the sidewalk. The night air felt nice on your skin, feeling warm enough to where you didn’t need a sweater.

The moon was bright and hanging perfectly in the sky, no clouds around to dampen its light. Hyunjin led you along the streets, walking in stride with you. You were lost in thought, lost in the man next to you when you felt a squeeze of your hand.

You looked at Hyunjin before looking to where he was pointing to.

“Here we are,” he said as he stopped in front of a building.

It seemed old, the style outdated. There was a soft glow from within, seeming inviting. You swallowed nervously. This is it, you thought, this is where I die. You followed Hyunjin as he led you to the door. Grasping the handle, he twisted the knob before the door swung open.

He stepped inside, pulling you along. The interior of the building was breath taking. The architecture was old but warm, definitely from another time period. The furniture reminded you of the 1800s, screaming old money.

Hyunjin could see the curiosity and awe on your face. He smiled to himself, happy that you didn’t seem taken aback. This was to be your home shortly after all.

“This was my parents house,” he said, as he guided you through the house.

You were looking this way and that, taking in the various rooms that you passed by. His parent’s house? Where were they now you wondered. You knew vampires lived for a very long time. Would you get to meet them tonight?

Sensing your unease, Hyunjin squeezed your hand as he stopped before a door. “They died long ago, murdered by humans.”

You gasped, not knowing what to say. After a while you opened your mouth to speak, “I’m sorry.”

Hyunjin merely shook his head. “It was centuries ago.”

You nodded and held your breath as he opened the door. Inside the room was a dining table, set up for two. Candles lit the room, the shadows from the flames dancing along the walls.

Hyunjin walked you to a chair and pulled it out, gesturing for you to sit. You did as you were told, tucking your dress underneath you as you sat. He effortlessly tucked your chair in before rounding the corner and sitting down next to you.

He clapped his hands and food appeared, your plate piled high with delicate foods. You were shocked, your mouth hanging open. You looked up as you heard Hyunjin chuckle.

“Easy to do angel, with a spell.”

You simply nodded your head. Of course, he could do anything.

“Dig in angel. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Hyunjin watched you as you cautiously took your fork and grabbed a piece of food. He watched as you brought the food to your succulent lips, the flesh wrapping around the utensil.

He smiled as you groaned, savoring the food on your tongue. You ate in fervor, not realizing how hungry you were. You looked up at Hyunjin and noticed he wasn’t eating.

“Are you not eating?” You asked, setting down your fork in embarrassment.

Hyunjin waved your concern away. “I cannot eat human food.”

As he said this, he looked at you, a smirk forming on his face.

You gulped. Of course vampires couldn’t eat human food. You didn’t want to think what this meant for you.

“Eat, it’s ok you eat,” Hyunjin said with a smile.

You nodded your head and picked up your fork once more. You finished off the rest of the food, your belly full and happy. Hyunjin nodded in satisfaction once you finished, snapping his fingers, the dishes clearing away immediately.

He got up and reached out to you, grasping your hand in his. You followed him as he led you out of the dining room and up the stairs. You held your breath as you ascended the beautiful staircase, unsure of what was to come. Where was Hyunjin leading you now?

“Here we are,” Hyunjin said as he led you to a room just off the stairs. He opened the door and allowed you to walk in first.

The room was beautiful, filled with ornate furniture. There was a little sitting area near the window, the night air filtering through the open window. In the center of the room there was a canopy bed that looked warm and inviting. You turned to Hyunjin, a questioning look in your eye.

He grinned and took your hand once more, guiding you to the sitting area. You sat on the couch, unsure of where to look, what to say. Hyunjin sat next to you and brushed the back of his hand across your cheek.

You blushed and shivered at his touch. You felt something stir within you. Yes, you knew Hyunjin was no good for you, a vampire, a creature you cannot trust, but your mind and body had other plans.

You looked into Hyunjin’s eyes, your heart rapidly beating within your chest. Hyunjin smiled at you before leaning forward, causing you to lay back on the couch. He brushed your hair to the side before placing his lips on yours.

You couldn’t help but sigh at the kiss, your hands reaching up hesitantly to wrap around his neck. Hyunjin continued to gently kiss you, his lips molding with yours with ease. His lips felt like heaven, nice and soft against yours.

You felt Hyunjin’s lips tip up in a smile. “Finally, you are mine angel,” he purred before kissing your jaw, the underside of your neck before he latched onto your sweet spot below your ear.

You let out a low moan as he nipped and sucked the area, his tongue lashing out to soothe the skin every now and then. You felt like you were floating, becoming lost in Hyunjin’s kisses. You closed your eyes and relaxed further into the couch, your fingers playing with the hair on the back of his neck.

Without warning, you felt a sharp prick, a yelp leaving your mouth as your eyes flew open. Hyunjin bit you, his teeth still lodged within your neck. He was going to feed from you, the shock from the realization causing your to panic. You tried to move away, but found you could not, your body paralyzed beneath the man above you.

However, before you could further protest, you felt a warm sensation travel throughout your body, down your arms, settling in your fingertips, down your legs settling in your toes, down your belly before settling in your core, arousal flooding your panties and soaking the material through.

You arched into Hyunjin, clinging onto him even tighter as he fed from you, the feeling of ecstasy becoming stronger with each passing moment. Hyunjin let out a growl before sitting up, blood smeared over his lips, his fangs still bared and bloody.

“You taste amazing angel, just like I thought. You felt good too? I know you did.” He cooed.

You did feel good, the feeling still lingering even after he detached himself from you. Your body felt like it was on autopilot, needing more from Hyunjin. You opened your legs more, allowing Hyunjin to slot himself more comfortably between your legs.

He grinned at your eagerness before he slid the straps of your dress down, your breasts on display. His fingers brushed lightly over your nipples, the buds instantly peaking between the cold air coming through the window and his touch. You mewled out as he leaned down to suckle your nipple, his tongue flicking against the nub.

Hyunjin loved your body, your beautiful breasts fitting perfectly in his mouth. He suckled your nipple, his hand massaging your other breast. He let out a groan at the sound of your voice, whimpering his name, telling him not to stop. He was ready to make you his.

With a pop, he let go of your nipple and sat up. With a snap of his fingers, his clothes disappeared, a chuckle leaving his lips at your shock.

Hyunjin’s body was beautiful. He was toned, his muscles flexing with every movement he made. Your eyes traveled down, down until they landed on the hard appendage between his thighs. His cock was pretty, the prettiest you’ve ever seen, the perfect length and girth, his tip leaking with precum.

You watched as he pushed up your dress, bunching the material at your waist, his eyes snapping to your dripping core. You heard him mutter something under his breath in a language you didn’t know, watching as he slid his finger between your folds. You moaned as he circled your clit, applying pressure to the bud occasionally.

“You’re soaking angel. All for me hmm? You’re mine right?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes searching yours for the answer.

“I’m yours Hyunjin,” you whimpered, finally succumbing to the man.

Hyunjin smiled, letting out a breath at the words he’s been waiting to hear since he met you. Grabbing his cock, he brought it to your folds, pressing the tip within your tiny hole. He watched your face, pleasure taking over as he pushed inch by inch in.

With one final push, he bottomed out, the stretch causing you to yelp from the pain. You reached out to push against him, silently begging him to stop. Hyunjin just grinned and took your hands in his, bringing them up and above your head. With a chaste kiss to your lips he thrusted his hips against yours, dragging his cock through your warm walls.

The pleasure was overwhelming, his cock hitting your spot just right. You loved his weight on top of you, cradling you beneath him as he rhythmically slid his cock in and out, in and out. You felt Hyunjin drop his head into the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin as he breathed.

You squeezed his hands and wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him ever closer to you. The new position allowed his cock to reach deeper within your walls, his tip kissing your cervix. You mewled out as you felt your high approaching.

Hyunjin groaned as he felt your pussy clench around him, keeping him within your walls. He fit perfectly within you, just as he thought. You were made for him. He felt the sweat off his forehead and land on you, his pleasure building with each stroke.

He needed you to cum with him, like he needed air to breathe. As he continued to thrust into you, he bared his fangs once more before sinking his teeth once more within your neck. You howled at the pain before succumbing to the pleasure as he fed from you.

He couldn’t get enough of you, as you were perfect. He felt you stiffen beneath him and with a cry, you squirted around his cock, your arousal coating his pelvis and dripping onto the couch below. The feeling of your pussy fluttering around him caused tip over the edge, spurt after spurt of his warm cum filling up walls.

You felt full and satisfied, as you came down from your high. You winced as you felt Hyunjin withdraw his teeth, before he pressed his lips against yours. You could taste the metallic taste of your blood, causing you to groan as you tightened your hold around him.

You felt like you could lay here and kiss him forever, your worries forgotten, the world forgotten as you laid in the little cocoon that was Hyunjin. Hyunjin gave you one more kiss before sitting up and slowly withdrawing his softening cock. He couldn’t help but watch his cum spill from your pussy, the sight beautiful to his eyes. It meant that you were his, finally his.

“Let me run a bath,” Hyunjin said, getting up from the couch.

You laid there beneath the windows, the moonlight shining through, awaiting Hyunjin to come back for you. It didn’t take him long as he was back within a few minutes. He carefully picked you up and carried you to the large in suite bathroom.

You felt sleepy as Hyunjin carefully washed your body, the scent of cherry blossoms filing in the air. You could hear him hum a song, the melody soft and sweet, almost like a lullaby. Once he was done washing you, he carefully brought you back to the bedroom, setting you down on the bed. He quickly dried you off and slipped a shirt over your head before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You grinned at the small sign of affection, reaching out to him with your arms, wanting to feel close. Hyunjin chuckled before picking you up once more. He placed you beneath the warm covers before sliding in next to you.

You snuggled up next to him, resting your head on his chest. There was no heartbeat, nothing present to let you know he was a human. You couldn’t help but feel attached, needing to be close to Hyunjin at all times. If this is what it felt like being with a vampire, then you didn’t mind, you actually wanted it, craved it.

He was yours, just as you were his. You snuggled closer as he whispered sweet nothings, his hands smoothing down your hair, his fingertips lightly brushing against your back.

“I love you angel.” Hyunjin whispered, kissing your hair as you drifted off to sleep.

You mumbled incoherent words, hoping the three little words were audible to Hyunjin.

You never were afraid of the dark, never fearing the darkness that covered the land each day. Maybe what lurked in the dark wasn’t so bad either. Maybe what lurked in the dark was what you were looking for all along.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @seungfl0wer

[iambicpentagram]

The theme for this week is adding poems to the notebook that are just TOO long

[erwinsvow]

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

summary: how you and rafe got started <3

author's note: if i could stop losing my brain cells over rafe cameron for a minute that would be great but i can't so here it is <3 this is mostly cute but in the shea cinematic universe this establishes the beginning of what can only be a hopelessly codependent relationship <3 more parts to come! also none of this would be written without the surge of inspo i get from reading every single one of @princessbrunette's posts but in particular this one, this one, and this<3 one!

now spinning: one of the girls by the weeknd & jennie

Rafe’s always thought you were cute. 

Cute, he’d think to himself in passing, on a hot summer day when he was getting ready to take beers from the fridge and go find the boys at the country club. He didn’t need to steal anything, the waitress at the club always gave him whatever drink he asked for, but he just felt like taking them from the house today. 

You were dawdling around the house with a bored Sarah, all dressed up with nowhere to go. Sarah was texting on her phone, likely engaging in a virtual fight with Topper. He’d feel bad, but the two of them did it to themselves. You were at the counter with Wheezie, leaning on your elbows while the two of you discussed something. He didn’t really care, until he met your eyes for a second. 

Cute. The way you met his eyes and then looked away, face heating up. You were in a bikini and a coverup, probably waiting for his sister before spending the day on the beach or at the pool. The cover up was white and see through, covering everything to the point where no one could see anything but the faint yellow of your bikini underneath.

Leaning on the counter, when you looked away, he got a glimpse into the top of your dress. He could make out little yellow flowers on the material of your bikini and the outline of your tits squeezed against each other. 

He grabbed a beer and opened it with his back tooth, spitting the cap out on the counter next to Wheezie’s book.

“Ew, Rafe, get your spit molecules away from my book.”

“Who reads in the summer anyways? You should be glad for my spit if it makes you stop.”

“It’s my summer reading, Rafe, not everyone can just skip their assignments and get away with it.”

“Please, what have I skipped?”

You and Wheezie turn to look at each other and start laughing. He cracks a smile too, unexpectedly.

“Actually, it’s a great book. You’re missing out, Rafe,” you say, with a smile gracing your face, and he realizes he’s never actually heard the sound of your voice. You’ve maybe said hi to him twice, and both times Sarah had dragged you away within seconds. You even sound cute. His name on your tongue sounds even cuter.

“Really? Maybe I need to give it a try.” You laugh again, meeting his eyes this time. 

“You can’t have my copy, I already put my annotations in this one-“

“Stop yapping, Wheeze. I’m not gonna take yours.”

“Actually you have a copy in the library upstairs. I borrowed it last summer.”

“Really, kid? Wanna come find it with me?”

Your face heats up so much you turn away. He smiles then, and he smiles again when you follow him up to the library.

“This one is fantastic too, it’s about this young girl in England-” your voice continues to describe the plot of the book in your hand. You shelve it and then your eyes immediately land on another, another classic, another favorite. You ramble off the description but Rafe’s hardly paying attention.

He’s trying to recall when you had become so cute, so pretty. He thinks he’s never noticed you after you walk away with Sarah, or when he walks away from you two lounging on pool chairs, your nose in a book like always.

This is different. When had you become so irresistible?

Your pretty hair falls down your back. It sticks to your neck when the two of you are outside in the sun, in the heat. He has an urge to lick the sweat off just to see how you’d blush and feel how you’d squirm. Your eyes are warm and bright, but you’re still too shy to meet his blue ones, even when it’s just the two of you.

And it has been. Just the two of you, recently, almost all of the time. Sarah’s always off with her stupid friends and Wheeze is at home doing her summer work. 

The two of you travel to every ice cream parlor in the eight in the next few weeks. Conversation comes easily, even though you have nothing in common. He hasn’t picked up a bag from his dealer since he started talking to you, he realizes. Hasn’t felt the need to get high.

You’ve never even smoked weed, much less snorted coke. You’ll drink at a party with Sarah, but not too much, and you always end up being the sober friend holding back the vomiting girl’s hair. At the bonfire that he invites you to, your eyes keep darting around, seeing if anyone needs your help. 

Rafe moves so he’s standing right in front of you, blocking your view.

“Hey, kid,” he says quietly, leaning in. You’re boxed in, with Rafe and only Rafe on your mind. The clean, attractive scent of his cologne. The way it lingers on his clothes, like the button up you’re wearing over your pink dress.

He picks up the red cup in your hand and places it on the log beside you, balancing his beer next to it. His hands are cold from the bottle but you don’t mind much. He takes your wrists first, holding them in place, and then slides down so your hands are touching. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” You were looking down at the hands, where the two of you were connected, but his voice makes you look up. He’s looking at you, and you want to hide your face. Your fingers twitch beneath Rafe’s grip. He holds on even tighter. “Don’t look away, princess. We gotta work on that, huh?”

You feel your face heating up at the nickname. You wish you were home so you could scream into your pillow.

“Sorry, sorry,” you scramble, trying to look up but you can’t find the strength or the will.

You’re embarrassed. Of course you are—this is Rafe, and you’re just you. Rafe is the one you’ve had a crush on since you knew what crushes were, and you are still the awkward little thing you were the first time you met him. 

His gaze burning holes through you makes you want to run and hide. Because this is Rafe, and right now you’re one of his girls. The ones Sarah’s complained about the whole time she’s known you—they get too attached, act all clingy, and then are replaced before long. 

You hear Rafe’s quiet laughter. You’re still boxed in, feeling hot and clammy even though he’d given you his button up not thirty minutes ago because you felt cold. 

“What’re you saying sorry for?” You look up quickly, and then look back down. Then Rafe’s hands leave yours, and he holds up your chin until you’re looking right into his eyes. “Hmm?”

You feel like puking. 

“I-I just, well I just-”

“You just what?”

“I don’t think I can be, um, be one of your flingy, uh fling-type girls. So, you know, maybe all of this isn’t a good idea.”

“Fling-type girls?” he questions. He’s holding back a laugh, which makes you irrationally upset. You shove hard against his chest to free yourself from the cage of his arms. 

“Yes, your fling-type girls. You have a new girl on your arm every week, and everyone knows it, and I refuse to be one of them, because it’s just embarrassing and dehumanizing,” he watches you ramble on. He smiles, but you don’t notice. “And frankly, I deserve better than that.”

“Are you done?” You glare back at him.

“Yes, and not because you said that. I was done anyway.”

“Good.” Your face drops for a second, thinking you overstepped and totally overreached regarding his intentions, but then Rafe surprises you—he leans in and kisses you. 

You weren’t expecting a playground peck, but the way he’s kissing you completely surpasses any and all expectations (and fantasies) you’d dreamt up. His grip on your hips is hard, and his tongue is almost down your throat. It’s messy, and wet, and when he pulls away, there’s strings of spit connecting you to each other. 

You should wipe your mouth before anyone sees, but you don’t. Your heart is racing, and you can barely speak, much less move. 

“If I wanted you to be one of my girls, I wouldn’t have spent the last three weeks listening to you blab about books and buying you ice cream. You’re gonna be my only girl, and that’s that, okay?”

You nod dumbly—words and motions still not quite back yet. You feel flushed. People’s eyes are on you both.

“Now, do you wanna head out and go get a cone?” You nod again. “Good girl. And watch your mouth.”

[stillmonsterz]

brave it together

pairing: jay x reader, jake x reader genre: smut, angst, slight humor summary: ever since you started your first year at sadame university three months ago, jay has been bothering you. you try to keep your head bowed down, but you're finding it harder and harder to keep to yourself. an approaching storm, a party, and your job at the university's library inadvertently lead to you being entangled in the clandestine world of the karma club. you're starting to discover that there's more to jay, and more to yourself, than you could have imagined. contains: unprotected sex, rape, noncon, drug usage, alcohol mention, manipulation, suicide, murder, death threats, infidelity, exhibitionism, physical violence, piss. word count: 24.6k

taglist: @moon7jay @ui11iane @belowbun

Sometimes you wished you could be someone else. You wished you could have been like the other girls at your university, the ones that crowd in groups, that go to the bathroom together to make sure that they’re all safe. Girls that talk about everything with each other, who share common interests and talk to each other about their own interests. Friends who would listen.

You wished that you could know what to say. You wished that you knew the right way to act, to speak, the right way to think to make people care. You wished you didn’t repel others.

You only wished for this sometimes. 

You’re stocking the shelves of the university’s library. It’s an easy campus job, one that pays decently. You’re here on a partial scholarship, so you tried to save money however you could. The library was one of the reasons why you applied here in the first place; it was well-stocked, had vaulted ceilings in the main room, and, to your delight, had physical copies of rare books. 

 All you wished for right now was for the day to end so you could go home, watch an awful 60s giallo with vibrant paint for blood and eye candy to ogle, and avoid an encounter from Jay. You weren’t in the mood today.

Isa, a girl two years above yours, pushed the metal cart replete with books and occasionally pointed out where they should go. She had been doing this since last year, so she had a far better idea of you about the layout of the library.

You crouched down to the carpeted floor, scouring the bottom-most shelf for the appropriate spot.  “Next to the copy of ‘Neuroscience for Dummies’,” Isa said idly, pointing with a well-manicured finger. Isa was red-headed and gorgeous, and had an impeccable sense of fashion; she was wearing a white cashmere sweater with a thick, plaid skirt, knee-high black socks, and leather shoes. On top of that, she was intelligent, friendly, and incredibly personable. You wondered why she wouldn’t go somewhere else and leave the library to losers such as yourself. 

“Thanks,” you muttered, placing the book in its proper place.

“You know,” Isa began. You lifted your head up to meet her eyes, which were sparkling with a mischievous glint. “You’d look pretty with some makeup.”

You blinked, uncertain of how to respond. “I’m not pretty right now?”

Isa waved her hands contritely and shook her head. “No, no, not at all. I mean, you are pretty, it’s just…you’d look even better with makeup.”

“Oh…” Grasping for another book, you avoided Isa’s gaze. Not only did you not believe her, but you wondered why she was telling you this. She was probably just messing with you. Even a saint would take one look at you and tell you to kill yourself. For whatever reason, people seemed to dislike you, as though you emitted a repelling odor. “Look better?”

“Yeah,” Isa said cheerfully. “If you look better, you’ll feel better, too.” 

“Maybe,” you said, shoving another book onto the shelf. 

“Seriously,” Isa continued, and you wished she would just drop it. “You could probably pull a Karma Club member if you tried.”

Now she was definitely just fucking with you. She of all people should know that guys like that would have very little interest in you; Isa was popular, and you had seen her and her friends hanging around some of the KC members. Whenever you saw her and Jay in the same place, you’d walk the other way. Thankfully, Jay tended to spare you the humiliation of being mocked in front of others. He preferred to do it when no one was looking. “I’d rather not,” you replied, feeling around for another book from the cart. Isa handed you one, and you shuffled away to shelve it.

“Aw, why not?”

“They’re…weird,” you said simply. 

“They’re not all bad,” Isa said, and you slowly turned your head to glance up at her. Isa’s face was sheepish, and she was toying with her bracelet. Jesus. She liked one of them? Having a crush on a Karma Club member was practically a form of hybristophilia. You wondered which one she liked. Probably Jake, the nice one. 

Isa started to speak again, but some male student came up to her. “The printer’s busted again,” he said with an eye roll. 

“Annoying,” Isa muttered. “I’ll be back. Try not to have too much fun without me.” You gave her a curt nod and she gave you a thumbs-up before scampering off to save the day. You watched her retreating figure, then looked down at your hands. 

You reached up to grab another book from the cart, but someone’s hand rested on yours. First, your eyes traced the shoes (balenciaga sneakers) then up to his jeans (Levi’s, black, distressed), his Joy Division t-shirt, and finally, reluctantly, they settled on his face. Penetrating dark eyes framed by thick eyebrows, one of which was adorned by a silver eyebrow piercing looked down at you. His lips were fixed into their habitual crooked smirk. The heady scent of Tom Ford wafted from his body. 

“Yeah, you could be really pretty,” Jay said, batting his eyelashes. He grabbed your hand and jerked you upright, your chest hitting the metal cart as you staggered to your feet. “You could be a model, honestly.”

As always, you just stared at Jay blankly. What else could you do? The idea of begging him to stop or making some quippy little remark just made you cringe at yourself. Jay dropped your arm and walked behind you, rubbing your shoulders with a strong grip. You managed to avoid flinching, something you considered a small victory.

“Don’t know why Isa lied to you,” Jay whispered into your ear. “If you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig. If you put some makeup on a prude, it’s still a frigid little bitch, wouldn’t you say?”

Clenched teeth, pursed lips, fixed gaze. That was how you dealt with Jay. You stared at the books directly in front of you, rearranging them in your head by height. 

Jay made a low noise at the back of his throat. “You know,” he began, and his thumbs dug into your shoulder blades, “I’m getting really sick of this mute shit. I know you can talk, prude. Say it. Say that you’re a bitch.” 

The Secret History of the Moon Landing is the tallest, from your direct line of sight. You could put it with Mars and its Mysteries: The Red Planet Uncovered, and then Pluto as a Planet. 

Jay’s fingers clenched around your shoulders painfully. “I told you to talk. Come on.”

You and Jay were obscured by the tall bookshelf in front of you, so when Isa’s sleek oxfords came into view, Jay slid his arms around your neck in what could be mistaken for an embrace. “Hey, Isa,” Jay said amicably, his chin resting on your shoulder. You finally looked away from the shelf.

“Hi, Jay,” Isa said, stopping just beside the book cart. Her gaze flicked from you to Jay to Jay’s arms around you. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.”

“Nah, her and I go way back,” Jay said, and you didn’t have to look at him to know that he had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “Been taking care of her since she got to Sad.” The school’s name was Sadame University, but everyone just called it Sad U or just Sad. 

Isa’s eyes kept flashing between you and Jay, and the genuine smile she normally wore had been replaced by a far less sanguine expression. “Oh, wow,” she said softly, fiddling with her charm bracelet again. 

Jay nodded, his black hair tickling your chin. “Mhm. I was just inviting her to come to the KC party with me, but she doesn’t want to come.” He tilted your chin towards him, so that you were forced to look at him. “You should go out more,” he said lightly, but his eyes betrayed him. 

You didn’t say a word. 

His hand dropped back down to your shoulder. “Doesn’t go out and doesn’t talk. How do you put up with her?” Jay’s voice was jovial, almost like you were really friends. 

Isa laughed, almost too enthusiastically. “I know, right? These are the best years of our life, you know? Can’t waste ‘em inside all the time.” Does she seriously believe that shit? 

“Yeah, you should listen to your cute friend more often,” Jay said, shaking you once before clapping you on the back and letting go of you. He nodded at Isa, who was preening in front of Jay. “You should come to the party, Isa. The storm party on Friday, at Yeonjun’s. You know where his place is?”

“No, I don’t,” Isa said, tilting her head. Her glossy lips were pursed, and she admittedly looked really cute. If you didn’t know what kind of person Jay really was, you would think that they would make a good couple based on looks alone. Studious and playful Isa with pierced, crude Jay.  A bunny with a wolf. 

“I’ll take you,” Jay said, striding towards her. “You got my number?” 

“I have your Snap, I think.”

They exchanged numbers. You went back to stocking books. 

After a lengthy conversation that you had tuned out, you felt Jay ruffle your hair. “See you around, prude,” he whispered before walking away. His hands were shoved in his pockets. 

Isa stared after him before turning to you and biting her lip. “I didn’t know you knew Jay,” Isa said, her tone playfully accusatory. “You sly vixen.”

“You know him?”

Isa paused. “You could say that. He’s cute.”

“I didn’t know he was your type,” you said simply. “I thought you’d be into, uh, Jake.”

Isa snorted. “Nah, didn’t you hear?”

“No, what?”

Isa giggled before leaning in, as though she was telling a trade secret. “I heard that Jake is kind of a dick.”

– 

You had become disillusioned with the Karma Club mere hours into your first day at Sadame University. During an idle walk around the campus after your first class, you had ended up near a warehouse next to the facility where the sporting equipment was kept. There, you had seen a tanned, lean man standing in front of an equally tall person who was caged against the wall of the warehouse. You lingered in the parking lot facing the warehouse, hiding yourself behind one of the staff’s pick-up trucks. 

The tanned one, clad in all black, was goading the other one. A third person, an almost eerily-pale man wearing a brown blazer with a turtleneck and black slacks, was watching from a safe distance. 

“Go on,” the one in all black said. “Hit me. Unless you’re too pussy.”

Finally, the one pressed against the wall landed a feeble punch on his assailant’s cheek. The two other men looked at each other before bursting out into laughter. 

“At least pretend to be hurt, Jay,” the pale one had said, clapping his friend on the back. “You’re making him look bad.”

“You’re right,” Jay had said, clearing his throat. He pretended to be blown backwards, and his friend laughed even harder. Jay righted himself. You couldn’t see his face from this angle, but his body language seemed so tense, reminiscent of a dog with raised hackles. The guy who had thrown the punch at Jay looked confused and embarrassed, almost meek.

“Hey. You hit me first,” Jay had said. “Didn’t he, Sunghoon?”

“He did,” Sunghoon had said, nodding sagely. “He…I think he bruised you, Jay.”

“Bruised me,” Jay said, cracking his knuckles. “So this is a fight now.” With that, Jay had released an onslaught of punches onto the guy’s body. You were a fair distance away from the fight, if you could call it that, but you could still hear the thump of skin on skin. As Jay continued to wail on him, the guy slowly crumpled to his feet and shielded himself from the hits, covering his face with his arms. Sunghoon just watched, still laughing to himself. 

Jay had spit on the dirt. He had said something you couldn’t hear before digging his hands into his pockets. As he surveyed the school grounds, maybe for witnesses, his eyes landed directly on you. You stared back at him, your stomach dropping. You really hadn’t wanted to be involved in whatever hazing ritual this was. You hid yourself behind the truck again, to no avail. Jay stalked towards you, putting his hand up so that Sunghoon wouldn’t follow. 

You leaned against the trunk of the pick-up truck, and Jay stood in front of you. He assessed you for a nearly unbearably long time, taking in your appearance from your toes to your head. He crossed his arms and caught your gaze. An unexpected smile graced his lips, revealing a deep dimple on his cheek. He was unmistakably handsome. 

“Hey. No need to be scared. That was just something between friends,” Jay had said, his voice devoid of the haughtiness you’d heard earlier.  “We were just playing.”

You nodded, your hands clutching the straps of your backpack. Like you were a kid. 

Jay had frowned, scratching the back of his head. Then he stuck his hand out, regaining his smile. “I’m Jay, Jay Park. I’m a business major. Third year.”

You could see where his knuckles had split because of how hard he had hit that guy, and you were so captured by the sight that you didn’t shake his hand or talk. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Sometimes you just forgot to talk. 

“Hey,” Jay said, and your eyes flickered back up to his face. HIs smile had completely disappeared, and you wondered if it had been very difficult for him to maintain a veneer of civility. “Don’t be rude. What’s your name?” 

You told him your name, withholding your major. 

“Never heard of you,” he had said with a sniff, withdrawing his hand. “Are you new?”

You nodded again. 

“Jesus.” Jay stepped closer to you, and somehow the frustration dripping from his voice and painted on his face was familiar. “Do you talk?”

“If I know someone,” you said.

Jay had laughed mirthlessly. “Aren’t you special? ‘I’m too good to talk to other people, I’m so mysterious, look at me!’ Anyone ever tell you that that shit isn’t cute?”

Plenty of times, you had thought. Instead of saying that, you just shrugged. 

“Fucking weirdo,” Jay had muttered. “Look, don’t say anything to anyone about this, okay? Or else I’ll…”

“Or else what?”

Jay scoffed and slammed one hand next to your head, his rings scraping the exterior truck. His face had craned towards your own, and his eyes flickered with a cold, sadistic gleam. “Or else…” Jay had leaned in towards your ear, whispering, “Or else I’ll do something really, really bad.”

With that, he hit the truck once more for good measure and strode away. His friend Sunghoon had followed behind him, casting a withering glance at you as he crossed the parking lot. 

You didn’t look back at the person Jay had beat up. You just walked to your next lecture hall, sat down, and tried to focus.

You hadn’t known it then, but that had been your first encounter with two of the members of the Karma Club. Through sheer social osmosis over the past three months, you had learnt about them - more than you had ever wanted to, really. The Karma Club was an exclusive society that had been founded at Sadame some time in the 60s. The idea was to round up the richest, most powerful students -or, alternatively, the students who wanted to have a “lot of fucking fun”- and give them carte blanche to do whatever they wanted.

 Students is a broad term for them. There’s never been a female member of Karma Club to date. The closest a woman could get to being punched is to date one of the members, although you don’t see why anyone would want that. They’re attractive, sure, but between the stories you’ve heard, the things you’ve seen, and what you’ve experienced, you’d rather toss yourself off of the roof than date a member of that stupid fucking club. 

There were seven members: Heeseung Lee, Sunghoon Park, Jake Sim, Sunoo Kim, Jungwon Yang, Nishimura Riki, and Jay Park. Generally, people either tried to avoid the members, or they did everything they could to get their attention. Apparently last year Sunoo had gotten pissed off at the Sad U cheerleading team and put laxatives in their pre-game protein shakes, but they all showed up to his birthday party the following month anyways. There was another rumour, that Heeseung had vandalized the interior of an upscale restaurant in the city because his girlfriend didn’t like the hors d’oeuvres. 

You figured that Jay Park fit squarely into the “richest and most powerful” student category, because you had never witnessed him have fun, at least in the traditional sense. When he smiled, it was generally because someone else was in pain. The only smile you’d seen him wear was that self-satisfied smirk.

At any rate, there it was. Your first introduction to the Karma Club, your first meeting with Jay, and the last time a man had voluntarily spoken to you at school. Go figure.

– 

After your unfortunate encounter with Jay in the library, you needed a pick-me-up, and fast. You made a beeline for the smoothie shop in the Stopkewich dorms. Your university had four colleges: Stopkewich, where the liberal arts majors tended to stay, Fawcett, where most of the dorm parties took place, Nakashima, the unofficial home of the STEM majors, and Stoker college, where the most affluent students lived. It was there that the Karma Club resided, in a tall, red brick building surrounded by oak trees marked by a large, multi-tiered fountain. 

Stopkewich was more conservative, a simple light brick college with a stone path leading into one of the entrances. Groups of people milled about under copses of trees or rested on the plush, well-maintained grass. It was a dreary day, but the weather was mild. As you walked through the door, you wished that you had chosen this college instead. You had decided to be practical and chose the college whose classes were closest to your own dorm, so you had chosen Fawcett. Without any knowledge of the intricate culture behind the colleges, you had ended up in the loudest one. Worse yet, you couldn’t switch out of it. 

Every college had their own restaurants. Stopkewich’s smoothie shop was situated right next to their vegan and gluten-free place, staffed by two enthusiastic, perky goths. To your delight, your favourite worker was there, refilling the bucket of biodegradable straws. 

“Hi, Lily,” you said, walking to the counter. A girl with pink hair, large eyes, and a wide smile turned to look at you.

“Hey,” she said brightly. “You want to try my newest concoction?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“It’s going to be passionfruit, mango, strawberry…”

You shrugged. “Sounds standard so far.”

“And maca root,” she added, holding up a tuberous plant with a wicked grin.

“Isn’t that…doesn’t that boost fertility?” you asked suspiciously.

Lily pulled out a bamboo cutting board and started chopping the root into tiny pieces. “No clue. I bought it because it sounded like macaroon. They never should have let my goofy ass buy the ingredients.”

“I see.”

Lily tossed the root into the blender and started heaping fruits inside of it. “Have you heard about that storm that’s coming?”

You sat down on one of the bright red stools while you waited. “No.”

“It’s supposed to be bad,” she said, turning on the blender. She raised her voice so she could be heard over the noise. “They’re saying we might lose power.”

“When?” you yelled.

“This Friday.” Lily turned off the blender and poured the smoothie into a glass jar. If you brought ten glass jars to the smoothie shop, they’d give you a free smoothie. You were gunning for a free smoothie by the end of the week. 

You paid for the drink with your campus card and took a sip. “Well?” she asked expectantly, leaning over the counter. 

“It’s good,” you said, staring down at the vibrantly-coloured smoothie. “Can’t even taste the fertility.”

“Another win for me,” she said, wiping down the counter. 

“Thanks, Lily.”

Lily shot a finger gun at you and winked. “That’s what I’m here for.”

You continued to drink your smoothie, swinging your feet as you sat on the colourful stool. Normally, you didn’t like to linger in public spaces, but Jay never came to Stopkewich. Lily was so calm and friendly, and she didn’t pressure you to talk, so you weren’t in a rush to leave.

“You know, you’re my favourite customer,” Lily said. 

You smiled softly. “Really?”

“Mhm. The other day, one of those stupid Kum Club members came here and asked for something that wasn’t on the menu. I said I don’t do remix smoothies, and he got so mad.”

You didn’t have trouble picturing which one that could be. 

“Those guys are freaks,” Lily said, wiping her hands on her apron. “I swear I remember hearing that they tried to straight up murder someone in the bathroom over something silly.”

“That sounds a little far-fetched.” Jay was a dick, but you couldn’t imagine him killing someone in cold blood.

Lily pointed at you. “You’ve only been here for a few months, so you don’t know. The Karma Club is far-fetched. That’s how they get away with it.”

–

It was always a bit bittersweet, leaving Stopkewich. Here, you almost blended in. There were quite a few moody girls who dressed in long skirts and baggy sweaters, who kept their heads low and wore bulky over-ear headphones. They milled about, smoking joints wrapped with rose petals and sage, sitting in corners drawing. 

The short trek to Fawcett gave way to girls wearing trendy, cute crop tops with curve-fitting jeans and guys wearing the ugliest fucking outfits imaginable. You wondered what the point of being cute was when all you had to show for it were idiots wearing Nike techs? 

Navigating the halls of your college was always a task. Somehow, there was always a throng of people cluttering the halls. Isa lived in this college too, and would wave every time she saw you. Thankfully, you didn’t see her today, so you could safely slip inside of your dorm room. 

You threw yourself onto your bed and sighed deeply, allowing yourself to decompress. Soon, you would do your homework, blasting music to drown out the noises of young adult debauchery. Then, like every other night when the weather was good, you would sneak over to the library, use the entrance to the roof located on the third floor, and sit on the roof and smoke. It was one of your few acts of rebellion, although you doubted that willingly poisoning yourself could be considered an act of rebellion against anything besides good health. 

For now, you rested. 

–

The next day was more of the same. Long, tiresome classes, stint at the library, brief reprieve with Lily, then to your dorm room. Strangely enough, Jay hadn’t spoken to you. Over the past three months, you had grown accustomed to at least a “prude bitch” being tossed at you, or even more.

He had been getting worse. Lately, just like yesterday, he’s been touching you. You don’t know how you feel about it, nor do you know why his behavior has been escalating. 

When you walked into Fawcett again and headed left to get to your dorm room, you saw Jay and Jake Sim hovering near a bulletin-board. You’d be lying if you didn’t find Jake a little cute, despite the unsavoury things you had heard about him. He had tousled, dark brown hair and a wide smile. He was wearing the navy blue Sad U sweatshirt with a baggy pair of grey sweatpants. Seeing Jay standing next to him with a scowl on his face ruined the picture, however. 

“He’s always fucking late,” you heard Jay mutter. You figured that he was talking about Anton, one of the only Karma Club affiliates you knew that didn’t live in Stoker. He was rich enough, popular enough, and snarky enough, but maybe being around the Karma Club that often would drive you insane. Jay had accosted you a few times while he was waiting for Anton, but he had never had Jake in tow. In fact, you rarely saw Jake and Jay hang out. 

This didn’t concern you. You were about to turn on your heels and head back outside when you heard Jay call your name mockingly. When you looked up, he was beckoning you with his fingers lazily. 

That little motion pissed you off, so you decided to leave, clutching your little glass jar. As soon as you opened the heavy wooden doors, you felt hands grab you back. Jay was sneering at you. “Mute and blind, huh?” His grip on your sweater tightened. “You’re like a less fuckable Helen Keller.”

“Jesus.” Jake had sidled over to Jay and was looking at him with annoyance. “Leave her alone, Jay. Hasn’t it gotten old by now?”

Jay let go of your sweater, but his eyes still smoldered. “Didn’t see you wearing a cape.”

Jake crossed his arms. “Huh?”

“Look,” Jay said, shoving his bejeweled hands into his pockets, “I just didn’t know you still liked to stick your dick in crazy. That’s cool. I actually have a few exes you could hit u-,”

“I don’t have to want to fuck a girl to know when you’re being shitty to her for no reason,” Jake said, and his eyes rested on your face. You hated how gentle his gaze was. You couldn’t trust it. 

Jay developed a sly little smirk. “So you don’t want to fuck her?”

“No way,” Jake said hastily.  His gaze snapped to your face and he laughed nervously, scratching the nape of his neck. “I mean, you know, not in like, a bad way, just that, like…”

You’d rather have Jay call you a frigid whore for ten hours than hear anymore of this. When you tried to push past Jay to go to your dorm room, he grabbed your shoulders so harshly that the glass jar in your hand went flying. It shattered on the floor in the middle of the hallway, and bright red splatters of smoothie splattered onto the walls like a crude Jackson Pollock painting. 

You heard laughter behind you, and you pulled yourself away from Jay. He let you go, surprisingly. Sinking to your knees, you used your bare hands to pluck the worst shards of glass from the linoleum. “Leave it,” a voice whispered, and when you turned you saw Jake shaking his head. “Someone else will clean it up. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Someone might step on the glass,” you said quietly, still crouched on the floor. 

“Oh, boo-hoo, someone might step on the glass,” Jay said derisively. 

“Fuck’s sake, shut up,” Jake muttered. He gently pulled the glass out of your hands and set it on the floor. “I’ll go get a janitor, okay?”

“What do you want?” you whispered.

Jake scrunched his nose in confusion. “What?”

You shook your head. “Never mind.” 

“Hey,” Jake said softly. Belatedly, you realized that he had crouched to your level. “Tomorrow, Jay said he’s gonna visit Isa at the library. Do you want me to come along, to be kind of a buffer? I know he’s a dick to you.”

“Do whatever you want.” 

Jake just chuckled. “You’re not the friendliest, are you?”

You shrugged.

“I probably deserve it,” Jake said with a smile so good-natured, you almost smiled too. Thankfully, you caught a hold of yourself and stood upright. This wasn’t the first time that Jake had extended a modicum of kindness towards you. Two weeks ago, when Jay had “accidentally” spilled his energy drink all over your sweater, Jake had fished money out of his pocket and tucked it into your hand before catching up to Jay. Since then, Jake had been hanging around Jay more than Sunghoon did. You figured that Sunghoon was busy, or maybe they didn’t like each other anymore. Who knew? Who cared?

Jay sniffed. “So what?” he said, looking you up and down. “You only pull the selective mutism shit with me? I’m really hurt.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes and walked away with your head bent, so you didn’t have to see the people who were invariably staring at you. Normally, Jay didn’t bother you in front of other people, just in crowded hallways, when he caught you going in-between classes, or in the library. 

As you were doing your schoolwork, a question began to form in your head, making itself wide, unavoidable, and encompassing. Why didn’t Jay just meet Isa in her dorm tomorrow? Why go to the library when she’ll be busy? He couldn’t even harass you in front of her, or at least as overtly as he normally did, so what was the point? 

That was always the question with Jay: what was the point?

–

After your classes on Wednesday was your job at the library. As you walked over to the main desk to check your tasks for the day, you spotted Jake, Jay, and Isa all talking. So Jake had shown up anyways. They were huddled by the desk, as though they were all co-conspirators. You noticed that Isa was wearing a black pleated skirt with a baggy t-shirt, a stark difference from her usual, more preppy style. As you approached, Isa turned to you and smiled.

“Hey,” she said, waving you towards her. You walked over to the desk, where she made a space for you to stand. You awkwardly positioned yourself between Isa and Jake, trying to avoid Jay’s eyes. “Let’s see. Today, we’re on shelving duty, we have to catalogue the newest shipment of books-,” Isa nodded at a sizable stack of pristine books, “and we have to load them into the online filing system.”

You nodded your understanding and grabbed the book list from the top of the book pile. 

“Hey,” Jake said. He grinned at you, his shaggy hair getting in his eyes. He flicked it out with the casual, unselfconscious ease of a surfer who had spent all morning riding waves. 

“Hi,” you said quietly. Jay was being unusually quiet, his arm slung around Isa’s shoulders. He looked directly at her, ignoring you for once. How lovely.

“So, uh…” Jake scratched the nape of his neck again. “ Yesterday, I noticed you had that smoothie…looked pretty good.”

“It was,” you replied, and Jake laughed a little. 

“Where’d you get it from? There aren’t any smoothie places on campus.”

“There is,” you said, pointing west. “Stopkewich has one.”

“Oh, damn. I had no clue. I don’t really go to Stopkewich that much.”

“You should go sometime,” Jay piped up, his voice as arrogant and snarky as usual. “There’s plenty of girls with daddy issues who’d let you do all sorts of weird, depraved shit to them.”

“You would know,” Jake retorted, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

Isa gasped. “Oh, wow. Jake, she’s actually smiling.” When the grin dropped off of your face, Isa pouted. “Aw, no. Your smile was actually so pretty. Wasn’t it, Jay?”

Jay looked at you and pursed his lips. “Yours is prettier, Isa,” he said, staring directly at you. You felt something stir in you, some foreign emotion, but you weren’t entirely sure what it was.

Isa smacked Jay playfully on his chest. “Don’t pit us girls against each other,” she said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “I’m a girl’s girl, you know.”

You turned away from them and started to go around the desk. “I’ll start loading these into the computer now,” you said quietly. 

Jake reached out and grabbed your wrist. “Hey, wait,” he said, lowering his voice. “Did you want an invite to the party on Friday? The one at Yeonjun’s?”

You stared at his hand. “Why would I want one?”

Jake hesitated before letting go of you, shoving his hand into his pocket.  “I dunno. So you can go and maybe have fun?”

“She doesn’t have fun,” Jay said. So much venom leaked into his voice that even Isa looked caught off guard. His eyes were still trained on you. “She just sits inside all the time, doing her homework, knitting scarves, listening to fucking Mazzy Star.”

“What’s wrong with Mazzy Star?” Isa asked.

“Whiny, plebeian indie shit,” Jay said disdainfully, picking up one of the books on the desk with his spare hand before setting it down.

Isa pouted again. “I like Mazzy Star.”

Jay didn’t even look at her. “Great.”

Jake turned back to look at you. “Just think about it, okay? I can give you a formal invite. I know you aren’t the party type. I’m not really, either. Haven’t been for a while.”

You hesitated before saying, “I’ll think about it.” You turned your back to them and set about cataloging the new books, hefting the pile in your arms. You didn’t have to look behind you to know that Jay’s gaze was burning a hole in your back.

–

Later that night, you received a text from Isa as you lounged in bed knitting. Normally, you two only corresponded to discuss your job, so this was a surprise. You set down your needle and yarn and unlocked your phone. 

“could u come to the library rq?” she had texted. It reeked. What could possibly be happening there that would require your presence. As you were putting your phone back down, you got another text. 

“it’s jay” followed by “he’s acting really weird rn…”

Right. Isa thought that you and Jay were somehow friends, and she was probably too shy to ask Jake for help. So her boyfriend finally reared his ugly head, and now she was calling on you for help. Clearly, she couldn’t be in that much trouble if she could text you.

You shrugged a jacket over your nightgown, tugged your shoes on, pocketed a Swiss Army knife, and headed outside. You had no intentions of hurting anyone, but it made you feel sort of cool.

It was raining heavily, a prelude to the oncoming storm. You ran across campus with your hood up and headed to the library. It was its own building, nearly as big as one of the dorm buildings, which is why stocking the shelves was a two-person job. You pulled your keys from your pocket, opened the doors, and stepped inside.

Your shoes squelched on the welcome mat, so you took them off along with your wet socks. Isa hadn’t said what part of the library she was in. It was a tall, distinguished three story building - one floor for non-fiction books, one floor for fiction, and one floor with a little student-run cafe and a sprawling arrangement of tables and computers. You didn’t text her, in case she had covertly sent the message. She might actually be in trouble, and then where would you be? 

Your Swiss Army knife burnt a hole into your pocket as you walked around the dark library. The rain drummed on the windows, making it difficult to hear anything. The only light came from the moonlight streaming through the skylight and the lamps affixed to every wall that turned on automatically after 8 pm. 

Soon, you heard a strange noise coming from one of the aisles. Straining over the pitter-patter echoing from outside, you followed the noise to the back of the library.

You shoved your hand into your pocket and approached cautiously, moving lightly so as not to alert Jay. When you approached the aisle from whence the noise originated, you only peeked your head. You were promptly greeted with the sight of Isa and Jay, but not in any way you could have imagined.

Isa was on her knees, her head in between Jay’s legs. His pants pooled around his ankles, and his long, thin fingers were threaded through her red hair. The silver rings adorning his hands caught the moonlight and reflected it, so it looked like glittering teardrops through her long locks. Jay lazily bobbed her head back and forth, controlling the pace. The moonlight created a chiaroscuro effect on them both, painting Jay in darkness. 

He stared straight at you with an unreadable expression. His teeth were gritted, and his lips were parted slightly.  He made Isa go agonizingly slow, and she made an awful choking sound at the back of her throat as she took him in her mouth. 

You knew you should walk away, but something about it was so absurd that it was hard to look away. You had come here, partially expecting a crude prank from Jay, partially expecting Isa to surprise you with a makeover, and partially expecting Isa to join Jay in tormenting you, but not this. 

Jay’s eyes were cold and sharp as he parted his lips, licked them, then said, “Fuck, that’s so good.” He jerked her head forward onto his length, tugging at her hair roughly, and she choked again. You winced at the violent sound.

Why wouldn’t he look away? It was like he expected something from you, and you didn’t want to know what it was.

You left without another word, rubbing your eyes as you stepped away from the garish scene. He didn’t move, and Isa didn’t hear you. You shoved your socks and shoes back on and ran back out of the library, back into the spray. 

As you sprinted through the cold chill, the water seeping into your skin, you wondered why you had even shown up. How uncharacteristic of you, to get involved in the affairs of others. Why didn’t you just tell Isa that you would help her the next day? Why had you come? 

And why had Isa, or Jay, known that you would come?

When you got into bed, you tried to sleep, but the image of Isa on her knees and Jay’s eyes boring into your own wouldn’t leave your head. You tossed and turned, and that same unfamiliar feeling began to eat at your viscera. Gastric acid spilling out of your stomach, scorching your skin. 

Heat licking you in your most sensitive area.

– 

When you came into the library the next afternoon, Isa looked at you and smiled as usual. “Hey,” she said brightly. “Didn’t get much sleep last night?” 

You shook your head and sat down beside her; on Thursdays, you went through the list of those with late fees and sent them emails through the computer on the library’s main desk. “You?”

Isa gave you a mischievous look. “Mm…you could say someone kept me up last night. But I don’t kiss and tell.”

So she really had no clue. Meaning that either Jay had texted you through her phone so you could witness her giving him a blowjob, or you had made the entire thing up. 

“Um, Isa,” you said awkwardly. “Is it true that on iPhones, if you text someone Congratulations, your screen lights up with confetti? I have an Android, so…”

Isa nodded. “Yeah, it’s so cool!”

“Can you send me a text? I wanna see it.”

She pulled out her phone and quickly tapped out a text. Her screen showed that she hadn’t sent a text message to you since last week. You chose to interpret this as proof of the events of last night being completely fabricated, the result of an overactive imagination, a lack of social interaction, and sexual frustration.

“So cute,” you said as the confetti popped up on the screen. You figured you should say something.

“Isn’t it?” Isa said, sending more words. “There’s one for birthdays, and New Year’s Eve…”

As she spoke, you saw Jake and Jay walking towards you. Jay’s lips were screwed into a self-satisfied smirk, and Jake trailed him. Jay’s neck was littered with red and purple bruises, so you figured that that was why Isa was wearing a white turtleneck today. 

Isa blushed as soon as she saw Jay, and she leaned across the counter to give him a kiss. Jay’s smirk faltered as she did so, and he glanced between you and Isa. 

“You didn’t say anything?” he blurted out.

Isa frowned. “Say what?”

Jay gaped at you.  “Crazy fucking freak,” he muttered, and Isa lurched back as though she had been the one insulted. 

“Don’t be so mean,” she chided, and you felt a sudden warmth in your heart towards Isa. 

“Quit taking your shit out on her,” Jake added.

Jay looked at Jake and Isa, his head whipping around. He laughed once before stalking out of the library, creating a path through all of the students who jumped out of the way to avoid him. 

“I’m worried about him,” Isa said worriedly. “He’s been acting so strangely…”

Jake sighed and rested his hands on the desk. “Don’t know. He’s going through some stuff with his parents, so he’s been acting weirdly. He’s like this at the dorm, too. Him and Riki got into it the other night and now Riki is sleeping at Fawcett with some friend of his. It’s such a mess.”

“Sounds like a mess,” Isa said, folding her hands together and resting her head on them. “Poor Jay. I wish he would just talk to me. He must be hurting a lot.”

Christ.

–

After your shift at the library, you decided to eat at the Fawcett restaurant. Why not? The weather was disgusting, and you needed something substantial, something warm. You ordered something, some rice dish, and you listlessly ate  alone at one of the heavy oaken tables in the dining hall. As you ate, someone you don’t recognize slid into the seat in front of you. He had a shaved eyebrow, calculating eyes, and short black hair with blond highlights. 

“You’re her, right?” He said your name the same snide way that Jay always says it. You nodded. “I’m Riki. Riki Nishimura,” he said, holding out his hand. Unlike Jay, his hand was free from any jewelry. You stared at it, unsure of what his game was. He was the only freshman in the Karma Club, meaning that his hazing must have been particularly brutal. Even though he was young, in the same year as you, he was a Karma Club member just like the rest. 

Riki pulled his hand away and smiled at you wryly. “Jay was right about you. You really are cold.”

Jay talked about you? You didn’t think you existed to anyone outside of your direct interactions with them. How odd.

“Look,” Riki continued, zipping his sweater up as he spoke, “I just wanted to warn you.”

“About?”

Riki glanced around furtively, then stared at you. He craned his head towards you, so you leaned in as well. “He’s gotten worse recently,” Riki said in a low voice. “So they tell me, anyways. I’m a new punch, so I never got to see him ‘normal’.” He made quotation marks in the air when he said normal. “They say he was bad, but never this bad, and he won’t talk to anyone. Not even Heeseung, and they’ve been friends since they were kids.” Riki had developed eyebags, his hair was messy, and he played with his fingers as he spoke. 

“Why are you telling me this?”

Riki sighed, looking away from you. “I figure I owe it to you, I don’t know. For whatever reason, Jay hates you. No one can even understand why he dislikes you so much, but…he just keeps talking about you, saying weird shit, so I really think he might do something just…stupid, and dumb, and I don’t want that on my conscience. If he does do something… bad.”

He already has, but judging by Riki’s expression, you figured that he meant something much worse. “What should I do?”

Riki shrugged. “Don’t know. Watch out, I guess?”

“Thanks,” you said, shoveling in another bite of food. 

Riki watched you eat for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Don’t swing first.”

“What?”

“No matter what you do,” Riki said, getting out of his seat with surprising grace, “don’t buy into his bullshit. You never do anyways, and I think that that’s why he hates you so much. Everyone else indulges his dumbass ‘I’m so hard’ act…even we do, but you don’t.”

You took in his words carefully. “Thanks,” you said again, but you meant it that time.

“No problem,” Riki said. “One last thing.”

You took another bite of food and looked into his eyes. 

“If you want to come to Yeonjun’s party this Friday,” Riki said, leaning in once more (did all the Karma Club members have such little regard for personal space?), “the password is ‘fate’ to get in. It’s like an unofficial KC party. I’ll be there, so will Jake.”

Fate. What an interesting concept. “Party during a storm?”

“No school,” Riki said simply. “And, you know, it’ll be cool. I’m just gonna head there earlier with Sunghoon, but Jake is planning some stupid way to get there.”

“I’ll bet.”

Riki snorted. “You really should come. Maybe things will get interesting.”

“I hope not.”

He leaned away from you and fixed his hair. “I don’t think you’ll get a choice.”

–

After you did your homework, you took a nap and dreamt about the scarf. 

When you had been naive enough to linger outside, when Jay hadn’t yet made harassing you a daily habit, you had liked to knit outside. It was still September, and the weather was mild. You sat on the bleachers after your shift at the library and brought your yarn out with you. 

As you knitted, you heard footsteps behind you, crunching on the grass. Now, you could recognize those sure, solid footsteps from a mile away, but at the time you hadn’t. Generally, people didn’t approach you, so it hadn’t registered that someone was coming towards you.

“What’s that you’ve got there?” Jay hadn’t waited for an answer, plucking the scarf out of your hands just as you had finished another row.  The skein of yarn tumbled to the grass and rolled at his feet. “Is it for someone?”

You didn’t reply, your lips pursed into a thin line. “Right,” Jay had said, examining the scarf, “no one wants you, that’s right. No one wants a buzzkill that sits around, doing fuckall. Have you tried actually living? Experiencing things? Anything except wasting fucking oxygen?”

You had looked all over for that specific colour, and now he was sullying your scarf with his filthy touch. 

In real life, he had used your scissors and cut the scarf free from the yarn and walked away, laughing. But in your dream, the yarn tumbled away from you both. Winding itself around the trees, yarn strewn along the branches, choking the leaves.

You woke up covered in sweat to the sound of knocking on your door. Your bedside clock said that it was 11:00 pm. Some fucking nap.

You opened your door just a crack, trying to see what lunatic it could be. Jay stood in the hallway, grimacing at you. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, and his skin was beginning to take on a sickly pallor. The stark overhead lighting did him no favours, only highlighting his worsening appearance. 

 He grabbed you by your sweater’s sleeve and pulled you out so quickly you barely registered it. “Come along,” he said, dragging you down the hallway. “We’re going to take a little trip, you and me.”

Fighting him was futile, so you allowed yourself to be pulled away. As usual, everyone in Facwett was hanging out in someone else’s dorm, so no one saw you and Jay. He pushed the door open with one hand, the other holding onto your arm. 

Jay plunged the two of you into the rain. The deluge chilled you to the bone, and the sky was clotted with menacing nimbostratus clouds. Despite the darkness, you knew where he was taking you. It was a path you had trodden many times, the way to the Sad U library.

“Why didn’t you do anything?” Jay asked, his voice carrying over the steady rainfall. “When you saw me and Isa?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t fucking know. You could have asked questions? You could have had an actual reaction? Why’d you just stare like a freak?”

“Why’d you do it?” That was the closest you had ever come to defying him in any way, and it even surprised you. 

“Don’t fucking worry about why I did it,” he replied. Lightning flashed, and for a brief moment you could see Jay clearly. His eyebrow piercing glinted, and his eyes were completely black. “What are you looking at?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued tugging you along the grass. 

Jay hauled you up the stone steps and into the library. You didn’t know how he had gotten the doors open without a set of spare keys, until you remembered that he could have easily filched them from Isa. Maybe she gave them to him. Once you were inside, he let go of you. The two of you left large, wet puddles everywhere you stepped.  “Upstairs,” he barked, pointing at the glass staircase. “We’re going to the roof.”

Treading lightly, for your shoes were wet, you walked up all three floors. The entrance to the roof was located in a small supply closet on the leftmost side of the area. You obediently walked towards the closet, flicking the light on to find the hatch. With shaking hands, you pulled down the hatch, which unfurled the ladder leading up to the roof. “Ladies first,” Jay said, so you hiked your skirt up with one hand and climbed with the other. 

Once you got onto the roof,  you lingered by the entrance, underneath the small awning. Jay crawled up, shut the door, and jerked you into the open. You hadn’t noticed the intensity of the rain, so shocked you had been by Jay’s intrusion, but it was terrible. It beat at your face with the intensity of hail, and from just a few seconds you were already soaked. If you had brought your phone outside, it would have been destroyed, 

Jay’s hands were on you again, pulling you close to him. His eyes were wild- even in the darkness, they flashed with a primal ferocity. “We’re going to play a game,” he said, his voice loud and raggedy. The rain drowned out noise, so he leaned even closer to your ear.

“What’s the game?”

“The game,” he said, and his fingers dug into your arms, “is very simple. You give me reasons why I shouldn’t push your prude ass off the roof, and I’ll decide if they’re good enough.”

You pulled away from him to assess his expression, to see if he was joking. Nothing on his grim face suggested humour. “You’ll go to jail,” you said. 

“Jail? I can’t go to jail,” Jay said, his breath unbearably hot on your ear. “None of us can. So come on, give it a shot.”

Lily’s words rang in your head: “They straight up tried to murder a girl in the bathroom.” The library was three stories off of the ground. If he threw you off the roof, it was unlikely that you would die from the impact. It was more probable that you would be grievously injured. Paralyzed, brain damage, a slow death from your wounds, a slow death either way. Jay was the only person stopping you from reaching an infinite unknown. He held your life in his hands. 

You felt your lip tremble before you spoke. “No.”

“What?”

“No,” you said, raising your voice for the first time in ages. “I won’t beg you for anything.”

Your life flashed before your eyes in a dismal montage. Your childhood, lonely and miserable, high school a near mirror image. A life marred by solitude, harshness, and alienation, with the promise of more of the same to come. 

Jay snapped you out of your reverie with another hard shake. “What are you, fucking suicidal? You’re really ruining any potential enjoyment I could be getting out of this, you know.”

The only friends you had ever had, a group of girls in middle school, had teased you and mocked you behind your back, then to your face. Thrift shop clothes, a shy demeanor, and an inability to read the room had marked you as other long ago. An other, someone unlovable, someone born wrong, a bird with a supernumerary wing. Even if you ducked your head down, didn’t provoke anyone, the scent clung to you.

“Try. Come on. Convince me. Try!” Jay yelled now, his voice carrying over the torrent. 

Getting picked last, asked out as a joke, your only “date” having been cutting worms apart with a kid back in the second grade. You were a complete virgin. Hell, you had never even had your first kiss.

“Do something!”

Your sleeves hung from how much water they had soaked up, and your hands were slippery. You cupped Jay’s cheeks, leaned in, and kissed him gently on the lips. It was just a peck, but in your books it counted. Your hands fell away from his face, lingering at your sides.

When you pulled away, Jay was staring at you with the same unreadable expression he had had yesterday night. “I’ve never had my first kiss,” you explained, “So…” Feeling embarrassed, you looked towards the edge of the roof. From here, you could see the four separate dorms and the main campus buildings, as well as the bustling city that housed Sad U. You hadn’t explored it much, and now you never would. Tumble to the bottom, hope for death on impact. 

Jay’s voice was incredulous. “So you kissed me?”

Still averting your gaze, you shrugged. “You didn’t give me a wealth of options.”

Silence hung between the two of you like a noose. The rain poured ceaselessly, completely penetrating your clothes.

“Look at me,” Jay whispered, but you were still gazing at the city below. Cars glittered on the streets, even this late at night. Where were they going? 

“I said look at me,” he said, and his hand grabbed your chin and jerked it towards his face. “And don’t look away.”

You stared into his dark eyes; you were so close now that you could smell his breath. It smelled like bourbon and cigarettes. 

“I hate you,” he said, his thumb and index finger still holding your chin in place. “It’s beyond hatred sometimes.”

“I know,” you said.

“I think you’re pathetic. I think you’re weak.”

“I know.”

“So stop making it hard for me,” Jay said, his breathing growing uneven and erratic. 

“Making what hard for you?”

“Oh, don’t fucking play dumb,” he snapped. “You’re always doing it. You’re doing it right now.”

“I don’t do anything,” you said.

“That’s your problem,” Jay said, “you never do anything. You’re always so fucking calm, and passive, and it pisses me off. You just can’t let anything get to you, right? Nothing ever matters to you. Nothing can ever hurt you, right?” He swallowed audibly.

Your eyes drifted to the entrance to the roof. Thankfully, Jay had closed it after he had followed you up. You would have hated it if water had gotten inside.

“I said, look at me,” Jay growled, so you did.

Then he jerked your chin upwards and kissed you harshly. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly against him, your chest flush against his own. Two wet bodies pressed together.

You didn’t know what to do, or how to kiss back. You tried to mimic his actions, but it was impossible to keep up with him. Jay kissed you like he was punishing you for daring to touch him. Jay’s tongue worked its way into your mouth and swirled around your own tongue, dragged itself along your teeth, shoved itself down your throat. His hands gripped you as if he thought you would tumble off of the roof on your own accord if he didn’t hold onto you. One clutched your upper back, the other hand wound its way to your waist.

Jay pulled away briefly, sucking in rapid breaths, before pressing his lips firmly against yours again. He forced you down to the ground, so that you both sank to the floor of the roof. Rain had slipped into your mouths as you had caught your breath. Saliva and rainwater dribbled out of your mouths, onto your chins. You were on your knees, being consumed by Jay. One of his hands pressed against the back of your head, holding you in place. 

Thunder crashed, but Jay was relentless. You wondered if he kissed everyone like this. You wondered if he kissed Isa like this. 

Once more, he broke the kiss, panting heavily. His arms slid away from your body, leaving you with a phantom weight. Jay shakily stood up, rainwater dripping off of him as though he were one of storm clouds hovering above you. “Congratulations,” he said, “I don’t feel like killing you today.”

He left you there, looking back at him, soaked in the torrential downpour. When you touched your lips, you found that they were already starting to swell.

–

On Friday, classes were canceled because of the weather. It was for the best. You stared at the ceiling listlessly, your hands folded over your stomach. You hadn’t remembered going to the communal showers, or getting dressed in a nightgown, but you had done it. Your throat was sore and you were sneezing on and off. 

The sound of an incoming text broke the silence, and you reached over to your nightstand to read it. It was Isa, asking you to come over to her dorm room. You weren’t in the mood, so you texted her that you were sick. It wasn’t a lie either; pressure was building behind your skull, and you just wanted to sleep. 

Unfortunately, no one at Sad U knew how to take a hint. Ten minutes later, you heard timid rapping at your door. You groaned, shuffled to your feet, and opened the door. 

Isa was standing outside, wearing a worn Judas Priest t-shirt with purple and pink bear pajama pants. Her face was free from makeup, and her fiery hair was tugged into a loose bun. “You look bad,” she said, then winced. “Sorry.”

“I’m sick.”

“I thought you were lying just to get rid of me,” she said sheepishly. “I’ll come back some other time.”

You shook your head and beckoned her inside. All of a sudden, you didn’t want to be alone right now.  You figured you might as well get this over with now, anyways. You sat down on your bed and patted the space next to you.

Isa sat down and looked around your room, trying to find something to compliment. “It’s very…cozy in here. It’s very you,” she said finally, turning to face you.

“Thank you,” you said, stretching out your neck. “What’s up?”

Isa sighed and tugged at the hem of Jay’s shirt. “It’s Jay,” she said finally. Of course. It was always Jay. “No one’s seen him since last night.”

“Maybe he’s on campus somewhere, like Ri-,”

“No, no one has seen him.” Isa screwed her face up in frustration. “He just disappeared.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Isa said bitterly. “Oh. So, I was wondering…if you had, I dunno, seen him? I know that you guys…know each other, so I was wondering if maybe he had said something.”

“No,” you said immediately. “No, he didn’t.” What could you say? Yeah, your pseudo-boyfriend threatened to kill me, we made out on the rooftop, and then he disappeared?

“Oh, okay,” Isa said, her voice faltering. She sniffled, but before you could make a feeble attempt at comforting her, she smiled. “Gosh. It’s such an ugly day, and all my friends are over at Stoker right now with their boyfriends. I’d go over there, but the rain is so bad…”

It was clear that Isa wanted someone to hang around, so maybe you could help each other. Just once. “I saved some movies on my laptop before the storm, if you wanted to, you know…”

Isa wiped her eyes. “What? You want to watch a movie with me?”

What were you doing? “If you want.”

 “Yeah. Yeah, sure, what movies?”

“Uh, Oldboy and Lady Vengeance…”

Isa brightened and clapped her hands. “Oh, no way. I loved Lady Vengeance. I haven’t seen Oldboy, though.”

You smiled slowly. “I haven’t seen either of them. Which should we watch first?”

“Oldboy came out first, I think,” Isa said, taking her hair out of her bun and fluffing it out. “So we should watch that…then Lady Vengeance.”

Watching a movie with someone had seemed tedious to you, an unneeded distraction. Why would you want to hear someone else talk while you were trying to focus? But for some reason, Isa pointing at your small laptop screen, making idle comments, and at one point going on a snack run and coming back with a small bounty of treats was actually enjoyable. The storm wailed outside, pounding at your window.

At one point, halfway through Lady Vengeance, Isa put her head on your shoulder. Awkwardly, you patted her smooth hair and she nuzzled into you. 

So this was what it was like to have a friend. 

“Hey,” you said quietly, “are you going to the party at Yeonjun’s?”

Isa nodded, her cheek rubbing against your shoulder. “I think I might, yeah. Yeah, my friends have been trying to get invited, but it’s pretty hard. And apparently there’s like a list of invitees, so you can’t just…go. Jay was supposed to take me, but…” her voice trailed off.

“I got invited. Formally,” you said, “so maybe we could go together?”

Isa lifted her cheek off of your shoulder so she could look at you directly, a smile slowly spreading across her pretty face. “Really?” 

“Yeah, and…” you swallowed thickly. “You could maybe…help me get ready?”

The sheer ferocity of the squeal that Isa had emitted could have powered the school in case the bad weather wrecked the back-up generators. “I’ll call Jake so he can pick us up,” Isa said, pulling her phone out. “He’s staying behind, so we can meet him in a few hours…”

“He’ll drive us?”

Isa looked at you slyly. “Not quite.”

–

“It’s perfectly safe,” Jake reassured you. He was behind the wheel of a golf cart, his teeth gleaming in the dark. had parked outside of Fawcett, positioned under a large tree to evade the worst of the rain. 

“Won’t the rain wreck the cart?” you asked. At Isa’s behest, you were wearing a plastic poncho that covered you from head to toe, speaking through a small mouth flap. She had bought them in anticipation for the awful weather, and she would not have you wreck the makeup she had meticulously painted on your face. The dress you were wearing was one she had chosen from your closet. She had wanted to do raw hem the dress to make it look “grunge”, but Jake had pounded on your door, yelling for you guys to get out. So she had hurried you out, and you hadn’t even had the chance to grab your phone. Strange how eager she was to please him, even though they seemed to be on equal footing. 

Jake waved away your concerns. “It’ll make it to Yeonjun’s. Probably.” He could scarcely be heard amidst the thunder crashing in the distance. 

“How come you didn’t leave earlier? I heard the others went to Yeonjun’s a few hours earlier,” Isa said, adjusting her own poncho.

Jake hesitated, then whispered, “I thought Jay would come back. Wanted to be at Stoker in case he showed.”

Isa’s face crumpled for a few seconds, before she took a deep breath and steeled herself. “Come on,” she yelled, grabbing your hand and leading you into the golf cart. “Aw, man, my ass is wet.”

“That’s a hurricane party for you,” Jake said. With a whoop, he started the golf cart and sped away from Fawcett.

The main entrance to Sad U was closed off by a large, ostentatious black gate, but there were other ways to get off campus. Namely, there was a winding path that led from the warehouse into the woods surrounding the university that led outside. Jake maneuvered the golf cart through the powerful winds, hollering as he did so. 

“You drive like shit,” Isa screamed, clinging to you. 

“You try driving a golf cart through a hurricane,” Jake yelled, entering the forest. There was a brief reprieve from the winds, but branches, twigs, and pebbles still whipped around your head. You had to dodge constantly to avoid a barrage of debris. 

Somehow, Jake had wheeled the golf cart onto a side road. “Do you know where you’re going?” Isa asked warily.

“Yeah,” Jake said, “obviously. I’ve been to Yeonjun’s a bunch of times.”

“Are you sure?” The golf cart squeaked miserably as it rumbled down the concrete. 

“Yes, I’m sure! Get off my ass!”

“We’re in a golf cart in a Category 5 hurricane, someone needs to be on your ass.”

“This isn’t even a Category 2 hurricane. This is nothing. You know what we get in Australia? We get willy-willies. You wouldn’t know shit about that, would you?”

You started laughing. You couldn’t remember the last time you had done so, but it felt amazing. Clutching your stomach, you rested your head on Isa’s shoulder. Isa looked at you, then glanced at Jake, and they joined in too. A merry band of lunatics, cackling in the middle of a storm.

“We’re so fucked, Wednesday Addams is laughing,” Jake said, letting out a wheezing laugh. 

“It’s a good omen,” Isa suggested, “like a black cat walking under ladders.”

“13 mirrors in a funhouse breaking,” you said, unable to stop giggling. Maybe you were delirious. 

Jake snickered and continued driving. The storm hadn’t let up, but he managed to navigate the golf cart onto the sidewalk of a residential area - quite the upscale neighborhood at that. The houses looked more like dorm buildings with how large and decadent they were. 

“I thought it’d be a gated community,” Isa said, still holding onto you. 

“Yeonjun’s going through this weird Twitter socialist phase,” Jake said, “so he’s like, ‘gated communities are for the bourgeoise’, but he owns a shit ton of Rick.”

You glanced at Isa. “Rick?”

“Rick Owens,” she explained.

Just then, you heard a distinct gurgling noise coming from the back of the golf cart. “You guys hear that?” 

“I can’t hear anything in this weather,” Isa said, and as the words left her mouth the golf cart made a loud hissing noise. 

“Get out!” Jake yelled. “The battery is waterlogged!” Isa helped to pull you out of the cart, and the three of you watched the golf cart smoke before the rain snuffed any remaining heat. 

“Jake,” Isa began, her words punctuated by a thunder-clap, “why would you even take a golf cart to Yeonjun’s in the middle of a storm?”

Jake spread his arms angrily, but all he could offer was a meager, “The vibes?”

“The vibes,” she said, exasperated. “The vibes.” 

“How far is Yeonjun’s?” you asked, still wired from the strange euphoria you had felt earlier.

Jake shrugged, running his hands through his wet locks. “Like…five minutes away?”

“We should run,” you suggested. “What else can we do?” 

Jake opened his mouth, but with another loud thunderclap, he turned on his heel and started sprinting. Expletives spilled out of his mouth as quickly as he moved. Isa took your hand and you ran in a madcap sprint to Yeonjun’s house. It was almost surreal; every minute, there was a bright flash of lightning, and you could see everything in complete clarity. 

Your lower half was completely wet, you were holding hands with the “girlfriend” of the guy who had tormented you for months, and you were running towards a party with some of the most obnoxious people at your university, including his best friend. 

“Fate,” you murmured.

“What?” Isa yelled, pulling her poncho tightly around herself. 

“Fate,” you said, a little louder.

“Yeah, that’s the password,” Jake said, running a little ahead of you and Isa. “Who told you?”

“Riki.”

Isa let out a slight laugh. “You know Riki, too? You don’t tell me anything.”

You laughed, too. A few minutes later, you were in front of Yeonjun’s sprawling mansion. From what you could tell, it was around three stories. Lights shone from all of the windows besides the ones on the highest floor.  No cars in the driveway, but the ten car garage probably fit all of them neatly. The wind could batter this fortress all it wanted, but the brick and stucco building would probably hold up in a flood. You didn’t want to know how someone who had graduated university not two years prior had been able to afford such a nice place. He was an ex-Karma Club member- the president, in fact - so Lord knows what he was capable of. 

You could hear loud trap music with rapid 808s playing from inside, accompanied by frenzied screams. The yard, which was currently being pummeled by a torrent of water, was understandably empty as well. Jake walked up to the door and rapped three quick knocks using the brass knocker. Someone opened it, a young man with a cat-like smile. He looked at Jake, then at you and Isa.

“Password?” 

Jake groaned. “Jungwon, you little shit. Don’t be annoying.”

“That’s crazy,” Jungwon said, shoving his hands into the front pocket of his bright orange hoodie. “None of those words sounded like the password.”

Jake groaned again, leaned in, and whispered the password into Jungwon’s ear. 

“Enter,” Jungwon said, gesturing Jake inside with a flourish. Jake gave Jungwon the finger and walked inside, calling, “I’ll be in the living room” behind his shoulder. 

Isa walked up next. She gave Jungwon a little kiss on the cheek and said the password. She turned towards you and pointed at the right, presumably at the living room. Then she disappeared inside as well, already taking off her poncho. 

Jungwon looked at you expectantly, so you walked down the stone path, up the steps, and stood in the doorway. “Fate,” you said. 

Jungwon nodded at you, jutting his bottom lip out slightly. “Nice to finally meet you,” he said appreciatively. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

“Anything good?”

You both stared at each other blankly. “You’d better get inside,” Jungwon said, gesturing you in. “In, in. It’s raining cats and dogs and Jakes. Get it? Because he’s an animal.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you heard Jake call from up the stairs and Jungwon wandered over to him, still laughing. Your eyes adjusted to the sudden light.

The scene was something out of a music video. To your right was a winding, wooden staircase with ornate iron balusters. Clusters of people crowded on it, passing around a tired joint or just talking. To your left, you could see a small room that had been stripped of its furniture so people could have space to dance. Directly beside it was a small bar, replete with various bottles of alcohol along with a small cooler that rested on the counter. Riki was standing near the bar, and when he caught your eyes he stalked over to you.

Riki grinned at you as you peeled off your sopping wet poncho and jacket, resting them on a nearby coat hook. “You came,” he said quietly. 

“I did,” you said.

He walked back to the bar, and after a moment’s hesitation you followed him. “Do you drink?” he asked, pawing through the open cooler. 

“Not often,” you said, leaning against the counter, careful to avoid touching an odd puddle of liquid. 

“Didn’t think so,” Riki said. He pulled a blue Calypso lemonade out of the cooler and cracked it open, handing it to you. You received it reluctantly, swirling the liquid around. “Don’t worry, I didn’t spike it. That’s more of a Sunoo thing.”

You took a small, tentative sip. “Is it?

“Nothing serious,” Riki said, gulping his own Monster and wiping his mouth. “Just know that if you ever see a group of people mysteriously getting the shits at once, it’s Sunoo.”

“Is he here?”

“Yeah. Why do you think they have me watching the drinks? When he gets bored at a party he gets antsy.”

“Hm.” You continued drinking and surveyed the area. It was almost claustrophobic, seeing so many people dancing and writhing around. Thanks to Isa, you didn’t stand out, although you wondered if anyone would have even cared. 

Riki nudged your arm with his elbow lightly. “First party?” 

You nodded, clutching your small glass bottle like a lifeline. “A lot of people.”

Riki snorted. “Nah, wait till you see upstairs.”

“Upstairs?”

“Yeah,” Riki said, jerking his thumb towards the steps. “That’s where the living room is.”

You gaped at him, glancing at the large, open space beside you two. “That isn’t the living room?”

A laugh escaped Riki’s lips and he nudged you again. “This is so fun. Come on.” Riki abandoned his post at the bar and jostled you. You got to your feet and looked at him warily. As he pushed you up the stairs, helping you wind past the dazed partygoers sitting on the steps, he said, “You’re wet.”

“Jake drove us here in a golf cart.”

Riki laughed loudly, his voice echoing over the music coming from upstairs. “He was serious about that? What the fuck? We could have driven you guys in Yeonjun’s all-terrain truck.”

You got to the top of the steps and pulled at your wet dress. “He said he did it for the-,”

“Vibes,” Riki finished, swallowing the last of his Monster. He crushed the can and tossed it on the floor, where it clattered unceremoniously. “He’s an idiot sometimes.”

“So I’m learning,” you said. 

The red LED lights blaring from the expansive living room on the far left painted Riki’s face with a devilish glow. He put his arm around your shoulder and laughed again. “We should be friends. You’re funny.”

“You’d be my first one,” you said, walking towards the party with some apprehension.

“Your first? What about Jay?” Riki asked innocently. “I thought you guys were best friends.” You glared at him and he snickered. 

“Come on, let’s dance.”

“Wait,” you said, tugging on his sleeve. 

“What?”

You looked at the throng of people dancing freely. You could see Isa’s flowing mass of red hair in the middle of the room, and Jungwon’s bright orange hoodie led you to Jake doing some trendy little dance. You could see the other members of the Karma Club interspersed throughout the room - Sunghoon and Sunoo were in a corner, half-dancing and half gossiping. You didn’t see Heeseung, or anyone who matched his description. Everyone there, regardless of what they were doing, looked like they were having fun.  They were shouting the lyrics to a song you didn’t know. 

“I can’t dance,” you said finally.

Riki stared at you. “You think any of them can dance? Look at Jake.”

“Well, I-,”

Riki put both of his hands on your shoulders and looked you in the eyes. “You need to stop thinking.”

“Stop thinking?”

“Yes. Stop thinking. Just do what feels right.”

“I won’t know any songs.”

“Doesn’t matter. Every song has a beat, you just follow it.”

“But …”

“I’m about done with this conversation,” Riki said, and he pulled you inside of the living room. Someone with lanky hair was manning a turntable, holding up his red solo cup as he fiddled with dials. Bodies were pressed together, and the room smelled like sweat and weed and perfume.

Riki started to move to the beat, so you decided to follow him, still holding your Calypso. He looked at you and laughed. “Just like that,” he said. The two of you danced at the edge of the party together, and it was comforting realizing that no one was paying attention. You closed your eyes and tried to feel the beat; the music was so loud that the floors seemed to reverberate. 

You heard someone call your name, and when you opened your eyes you saw Isa running towards you. Her smile was lopsided and she was laughing a little too hard. “I’m about to start rolling,” she said giddily. “Took like 150 mg. Come dance!”

Isa suddenly possessed the strength of an ox, because she was able to yank you into the center of the room. 

Jake yelled your name and hit a dance move you didn’t recognize. You copied him, the same way you did Riki. “Aye,” Jake said approvingly, “Wednesday’s got moves.”

“I taught her everything she knows,” Riki said. He embraced Jake in a half-hug and Jake ruffled his hair.

“I’m gonna teach her how to twerk,” Isa said, tugging your arm. “Come here…” 

You tried to pry her hand off of you. “No, no, no…”

“Teach me, Isa,” Jake said playfully, and he dropped into a squat and rattled his bones. Isa made a retching noise and looked away. 

An unfamiliar voice gasped, and you whirled your head to see who it was.“Oh, God. Who got Jake popping his pussy?” It was a girl wearing a black beanie with a cross on it, a thin tank top, and baggy camo pants. 

Isa smiled. “Gigi!”

“Gigi” and Isa kissed each other on the cheeks. “Girl,” Gigi said, rolling her eyes, “someone gave my man an edible and said that it was only 10 mg. Tell me why he’s in the bathroom right now talking about ‘they’re after me’?”

Riki’s eyes lit up. “Heeseung is vulnerable?”

“Don’t scare him too bad,” Gigi said, but Riki was already speeding away. She sighed and bit the inside of her cheek. “That boy is evil, Isa.”

“You say that like every Karma Club member isn’t insane,” Isa said, pulling her hair out of her face and whipping it backwards.

Jake finally got up and frowned, standing beside Isa. You lingered on her other side; Gigi’s sudden appearance had made you feel a bit nervous. “I’m not that bad,” Jake said with a slight pout. 

“Please.” Gigi scoffed and adjusted her beanie. “That Mina shit was pretty bad.”

For the first time since you had known him, Jake’s face was completely serious. The air had become fraught with tension, and you realized that the three of them had completely stopped dancing. 

“Oops,” she said, holding her hand up to her lips. “Did I say something?”

Isa was chewing on her bottom lip, and Jake was staring at Gigi the same way that Jay looked at other people. Like he could kill them.

“Let’s not talk about that,” Jake mumbled, looking away from Gigi. He glanced at you, then back at the ground. 

Gigi followed his gaze to you, and she gave you a clinical, detached once-over. “Who’s this?”

“This is our Wednesday,” Isa said, rubbing your shoulder. She told Gigi your name, and a hint of recognition flickered on her face. 

“Oh, that’s you,” Gigi said, nodding slowly. “I’m Giselle. Heeseung’s brought you up.”

What was there even to talk about? “Oh.”

“Based on what Heeseung said, I didn’t think you’d show up to one of these,” Gigi said coolly. 

“Jake said he’d buy me smoothies for a week if I came,” you replied drily. 

“No, I didn’t,” Jake protested, but his wide, puppy-like smile returned. “Quit lying on me.”

“No, you definitely did,” Isa said, lightly pushing him. “I heard you say it. You said you’d get me a wrap from Stoker’s caf, too.”

“Fine, fine,” Jake said, holding his hands up. “Smoothies for a week for Wednesday and a wrap for her friend Ariel.”

The song switched, some rap song you didn’t know, but Giselle shrieked, clutching Isa. “Girl, this is my song,” she screamed. “Just got some top from a stripper bitch, she from Kankakee…”

Giselle and Isa started dancing, with Giselle gesturing at Isa passionately. You looked at Jake, who moved his arms in a ridiculous, exaggerated way. You smiled and followed his movements, to his amusement. 

“You been getting close to Riki?” he asked, tousling his hair. 

“I guess,” you replied, trying to mimic a dance you had seen in a music video. “I’ve only known him for two days, though.”

Jake nodded. “He seems like he likes you.”

“He’s nice.”

“Yeah, he’s a good kid,” Jake said, and you became aware of how close he had gotten to you. When had that happened?

“You say kid like Riki and I aren’t the same age.”

Jake stopped moving momentarily, and a shy smile spread across his face. You felt a blush creep over your cheeks, and you were thankful for the cover of darkness. “Well, you don’t seem like you’re the same age as Riki,” he said softly. “You seem a lot more…mature?”

“I don’t feel mature,” you admit and you wonder why you even said it. 

“You are,” Jake said, and you saw his hand reaching out towards you, towards your face. Before he could touch you, you felt someone push you. 

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Riki said, giggling. “You guys look like losers.” He patted your back and went over to Jake, shaking him. Jake playfully wrestled Riki, and as you looked on you swayed your hips ever-so-slightly. Now that you were a little more comfortable, you were starting to have fun.

“Okay, get it,” Gigi said. You turned and she was giving you a strange smile. Isa stretched her hand towards you, and without a moment of delay, you took it. 

Even though you didn’t know the words, even though you didn’t know anyone, you still danced.  Jake was on your right, Isa was on your left, and the six of you were in a group, letting loose. Isa let her head hang back and excitedly moved her body to the beat. Riki was a surprisingly good dancer, freestyling along with every song that came on. Jake wasn’t far behind him, either. Last week, you couldn’t have imagined yourself doing this, not with these people. 

“Let’s go,” Jake yelled before a beat drop, and Riki pushed your head down so you would headbang. You smacked his arm, a gesture you had witnessed girls do to guys. It felt good to do something normal like that, to express your familiarity with someone.

You didn’t know how long you had spent in the living room, but eventually you grew tired. You tapped Jake on the shoulder. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Shit,” Jake said apologetically. “They’re probably all occupied right now. You really need to go?”

You shook your head. “Just need to rest for a little. I’m tired.”

“Sure,” he said. “You wanna go to a bedroom?”

Resting on a soft, plush bed and nuzzling into goose-down pillows sounded like a great plan to you. You nodded your assent. As you left, Isa got a hold of your jacket’s sleeve. “You okay?”

“Not used to this many people,” you explained, and you could have sworn you heard Giselle scoff. Whatever.  Isa nodded sympathetically and gave you a long hug. You tapped her back awkwardly before pulling away. “Have fun,” you said softly. 

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Isa said, playfully hitting your arm before turning back around.

Jake winded his way out of the crowd with you in tow. He took you up another flight of spiral stairs, then down a hallway decorated with tasteful, if not somewhat generic, artwork. He knocked on a door at the end of the hall, and when he didn’t hear anything, he opened the door. Jake flicked the light on, surveying the room. It was a simple, spacious bedroom; the bed had a red and gold quilt, the floor was dark hardwood, and the curtains were drawn shut. “This place is so big,” Jake said admiringly. “If the apocalypse were to happen, I’d come here and just hide out.”

“You’d get looted,” you said, entering the bedroom. You took your shoes off at the door and walked over to the bed. Putting your calypso down on the nightstand, you laid down on top of the sheets. “Yeonjun won’t mind if I sleep in one of his beds?”

Jake scoffed and sat down on the edge of the bed, beside you. “Sleeping is probably the tamest thing people are going to do in his bedrooms,” Jake said, looking down at you. “You’re fine.”

“Oh.” With that, you crawled under the covers, which were deliciously soft. The pillows were cold and crisp, and you breathed out a contented sigh. 

“You must be tired,” Jake said. “First college party, right?”

“First party,” you replied, suddenly feeling embarrassment over your lackluster social life. 

Jake shook his head in disbelief. “You’re so chill, I don’t get why you weren’t popular in high school.”

“Ask Jay,” you deadpanned. “He could give you a few reasons.”

“Jay’s a fucking…” Jake seemed to catch himself, and he looked at the ceiling before staring back down at you. “I love him, but I don’t understand him. I don’t know why he treats you like that.” 

Why do you let him treat me like that? The words clogged in your throat. You were being unfair. Jake had been telling Jay to stop recently, had been trying to help you. It wasn’t like he could stop Jay, anyways. Jay always did what he wanted. 

You must have looked strange, because Jake bit his lip in worry. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I caught a little cold yesterday,” you said. Jake touched the back of his hand to your forehead, and you were surprised by how chilly his touch was. 

“How’d you manage that?” Jake said in a low murmur. He moved his hand to your neck, just under your chin. 

“Went outside.”

“And why did you go outside?”

You gave him a small smile. “The vibes.”

Jake chuckled. “You can be so funny,” he said. “You can be so…”

You never got to hear what else Jake thought you were, because he had leaned down and planted his plush lips onto yours, kissing you softly. A dulcet sweet kiss, as gentle as dandelion fluff. When he pulled away, his eyes lingered on your lips. “Sorry,” Jake said quietly, moving his hand from your neck. 

You didn’t say anything, and you felt as though you had reverted back to the you from Monday. 

“Sorry,” Jake said again, “I don’t know why I did that.” He hesitated, then whispered, “Do you want me to go?” 

You bobbed your head up and down, almost imperceptibly. Jake drew a sharp intake of breath, nodded, then stood up. “I hope you feel better,” he muttered before leaving the bedroom. 

You didn’t. You couldn’t even fall asleep. You laid there, listening to the sounds of the rain and the bass kicks coming from the living room. Your eyes were closed, but your mind was racing. 

Bringing your fingers to your lips, you traced the soft skin. Jake had kissed you like you were something fragile, something that needed special care. He was attractive, friendly, and treated you far better than any other man in your life ever had. 

So why were you thinking about Jay? 

It was only a seven minute drive to Yeonjun’s from Sad U, which would be a nearly two hour long walk. Even if the weather cleared up, it would be an arduous trek, and without your phone, you would probably get lost. 

There was no point in trying to rest, but you didn’t want to see Jake right now. You didn’t want to confront his feelings, your feelings, or your lack thereof. Maybe you should go downstairs, see if you could scrounge up some alcohol. Drink yourself into a stupor and black out. 

So you got out of bed, shoved your shoes on, and headed out the door. As you walked down the hallway, you bumped into Riki, who was carrying a bottle of something with two red solo cups. “Jake wants to drink all of a sudden,” he explained. “But he’s too much of a fair maiden to get it himself. Annoying. It’s a crime for me to even be touching this shit.”

“I want to leave,” you blurted out. 

Riki stared at you. “What happened?”

“Nothing. I don’t know.” 

Shifting the items in his hands, he sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He checked the time, then looked at you gravely. “Weather’s supposed to clear up in 3 hours,” Riki said finally. “I can take someone’s car.”

“They wouldn’t mind?”

“If they minded, then they shouldn’t have put me on key duty,” Riki said, shaking his flannel’s pocket. You heard the sound of keys jangling together.

“You really are evil,” you said approvingly. 

“How do you think I got into the club?” Riki smiled, then sighed. “I’m gonna go take care of Jake. You gonna come dance again?”

“Don’t think so.” 

“All right,” Riki said. “Which room are you in?”

“Up the stairs…down the hall, the leftmost room.”

“I’ll meet you there in a few hours, then,” Riki said, and he prepared to leave.

“Wait.” When Riki turned to face you, crading the bottle of alcohol under his arms, you swallowed.

“Why are you so nice to me?”

Riki snorted. “Don’t say depressing, orphan ass shit like that. You piss Jay off, you don’t suck his dick, you don’t get into dumbass slapfights, and you’re funny. That’s all I need.”

“I thought Karma Club members would sort of…hate the same people.”

“Yeah, a lot of people make assumptions about us,” Riki said, irritation clear on his face. “They don’t know shit.” When you remain quiet, he heads over to the living room.

–

Three hours pass by, trickling like molasses. You go in and out of sleep, dreams intermingling with daydreams. You think about the scarf, about Jay, the smoothies Jake promised you, about your classes, about how five days could culminate into something like this. Lying in a stranger’s bed. You think about how, if Jay hadn’t fiercely kissed you on the rooftop, Jake would have been your first kiss. But if Jay hadn’t kissed you, would you have accepted Isa’s invitation to hang out? Would you have come to this party?

Riki knocked on your door. “It’s open,” you said, and he stepped inside.

“Jake’s acting stupid,” Riki said, gesturing for you to get up. “Fighting with Gigi because she brought up the Mina thing.” 

You shuffled over to his side, and together you descended the winding staircase. 

“I take it you don’t know what the Mina thing is?” Riki asked. 

You shook your head. 

“Jake would probably hate it if I told you,” Riki began, holding the door open for you, “so I’ll tell you.

You slipped through the door; the wind was weaker, and the rain came in a light shower instead of the downpour through which you had traversed. “What’s with you?”

Riki laughed, striding over to the massive garage. He pressed a button and it folded itself into the wall. “I like starting shit.”

“Fair.”

The two of you got into someone’s car, with heated leather seats and fuzzy dice in the mirror. “So, the Mina thing was pretty straightforward,” he began, pulling out of the driveway. “From what I understand, Jake hooked up with a girl when she was drunk. Really drunk. She said it was assault, he said that it was consensual.” 

You were surprised by the blase nature with which he relayed this information, but you figured being in the Karma Club took a lot of grit. 

“She tried to take him to court, but Jake…well, he’s rich. Really rich. She never got a rape kit, apparently didn’t know they existed, so she had no evidence. The only thing was…” Riki squinted at the road. “Fuck, I missed a turn…doesn’t matter. Anyways, the only thing was that her back was fucked up.”

“Fucked up?”

“Scratches, bruises and shit. Jake said that she liked it rough, and I never got to see it myself, but one of her old friends did. She didn’t believe that Jake raped her, but it looked ugly. Anyways, then she got known as the girl that cried rape. Everyone sort of just ran with it. Then she tried to kill herself.”

Riki said it so casually, you nearly didn’t register that he had said it. “Pardon me?”

“She tried to overdose on something, I don’t know what. It didn’t work, she got her stomach pumped. And then she left the school. It was the middle of last semester, so I have no clue how she completed her exams. Probably didn’t. No one knows where she is now. No one knew about the attempt, except for the KC members at the time.”

“How is that possible?”

“Well,” Riki said, turning onto Decelis Street, where Sadame University was located. “She had lost all of her friends, so it’s not like they would have cared. Sorry if that sounds like a dick thing to say, but it’s true. And the people who did find her, well…they weren’t going to tell anyone.”

“Why? Who found her?”

Riki was silent as he pulled up in front of the tall, imposing gate. “You can get in, right? There’s a few entrances that lead inside, or you could climb over.”

“Yeah,” you said, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I should be fine.”

“Good.”

“Thanks for driving me.”

“It was Jay,” he said quietly. “Jay found her. She was from Fawcett, and he found her in the girls’ bathroom.”

–

Staggering through the halls of Fawcett, which were eerily quiet (quite a few students had gone home for the weekend, anticipating the storm. The rest were probably in Stoker, enjoying the proximity to the KC without stirring their ire. 

It was too much to think about, too much to figure out. Jake had either committed a crime, or he was being unfairly framed. Either way, the girl had tried to kill herself, and Jay had found her. Why would he be in the Fawcett bathroom? None of it made sense, and you were so worn out, you could hardly bring yourself to think about it.

You jammed your key into the lock, but you realized that the door was already open. That’s right. Isa had rushed you outside, so you hadn’t had the chance to lock your door. When you cracked the door ajar, you saw someone lying on your bed, reading one of your books. 

Jay.

This was the longest Friday night of your life. 

The door made a creaking noise as you pushed it all the way open, and he turned to you and smiled. It was a Duchenne smile, devoid of any joy. His hair, which was normally styled, fell limply into his eyes.  He set the book down on your nightstand, got to his feet, and pulled you inside lightly. As he let you go, he closed the door and locked it with an unpropitious click. 

“Where were you?” Jay asked, leaning against the door. He crossed his arms over his loose black button-up and tilted his head.

“Yeonjun’s,” you said.  You still felt weak from the last 6 hours, so you rested your hand on your nightstand for support as you stood in front of him. 

“Oh, Yeonjun’s,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “How was it? Fun?”

The benign nature of his questioning only made you feel more perturbed. “It was okay,” you said. “Loud. Not as many people as I thought.”

“You know how it is,” Jay continued. “KC parties are always exclusive.” His voice didn’t have its usual arrogant, loud tone, the one that commanded attention. Now he spoke in a slow, borderline sensual drawl.

“Why didn’t you go?”

Jay shrugged and kicked himself off of the door, standing upright. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You may not know this because you don’t have any friends, but hanging around the same people for so long gets boring. I got sick of it, all their bullshit. Besides, KC parties are all the same. You go there, you listen to the shittiest house music, you smoke cat piss because it’s Heeseung’s favourite, you grind on some sluts, you fuck one or two of them, you have to kick their drunk asses out, you go home, then you fight the urge to kill yourself, pen in your jugular.”

“Sounds like a great time.”

Jay laughed humourlessly. “I didn’t know you could make jokes. You’re just full of surprises. Going to parties - KC parties, no less! - wearing makeup…you fuck anyone?”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Did you fuck anyone? Seems like you were looking to get fucked tonight.” Jay took a small step towards you.

“No,” you said, thinking about the kiss. Both of them.

“Really?” Jay stepped even closer. “Not even Jake? He has a weird thing for you, you know. Probably thinks he can dick the mute out of you. I’m surprised he didn’t try anything. But then, he’s always been kind of a pussy, though.”

You stayed silent, backing up. He wasn’t wearing his usual cologne today, so his natural scent wafted into your nose. It was woodsy and a little spicy. 

“Back to the silent treatment? You’re killing me.”

Your hand brushed against the book he had been reading. “Why are you here, Jay?” 

“I missed you,” Jay said sarcastically. “I just had to come see you. Why, you didn’t want to see me? Are you scared of me now?”

You shook your head, stepping back again. Your calves hit the cool wrought iron frame of your bed, and you realize that there’s nowhere left to go. 

Jay advanced upon you, until he was hovering over you like a specter. “Of course you aren’t. Nothing I can do can frighten you, right?”

“No.”

Anger contorted his features into a vicious snarl, and he pushed you onto the bed. Yourlegs hit the edge of the bed, and you winced from the impact. Furious hands groped all over the front of your body, as if he were attempting to touch every part of you at once. Jay’s lips pressed onto yours, his teeth clashing against yours. This kiss lacked the desperation and  hopelessness of last time. Now, his kisses were vicious attacks, wet and hot. His hips rutted against your crotch, like he was trying to fuck you through the layers of clothing.

Jay pulled away, gasping. His lips were covered in his own slick saliva. “Why aren’t you fighting back? Why do you let me do whatever I want to you?”

He’s pinned your arms against your sides, so all you can do is look into his eyes. Your voice came out more strongly than you had intended. “You’ll do it if I fight back or not. You always do whatever you want. I’m not strong enough to stop you, so why bother?”

Jay growled with indignation. “You’re pathetic. You’re weak.” He kissed you again, as if trying to devour you. One of his rough hands slid up your dress, the other kneading your breasts through the thin fabric. 

You didn’t kiss him back. You didn’t squirm. You laid there, pressed into your bed. Jay forced his tongue into your mouth and let you choke on it. The hand had disappeared up your dress was now sliding your panties down, down your legs. Pushing your dress up to reveal your naked pussy, Jay broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips. He looked into your eyes. 

“You’re mine,” he said, unbuckling his belt. “You know that?” 

The words sent a flurry of goosebumps across your body. “What?”

“I said, you’re mine.” Jay held his belt in his hands and glanced at your wrists, then your face. He tossed the belt to the side and pushed your dress even further up your body, giving him access to your tummy. He spread his hand across it, rubbing it in a circular motion.

“You hate me.”

“I despise you.”

“Why would you want to have someone you hate? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Jay said before spitting into his right hand. His other hand yanked his zipper down and took his cock out. It was almost scary to look at: long and angry with a reddened tip and a slight curve. He pushed your legs apart harshly. As if it were a chore, Jay stroked his cock a few times as he lined himself up with your pussy. 

With a grunt, he plunged himself inside of you, piercing through your thin membrane ruthlessly. You bit your lip to stop yourself from crying out, but it was painful. It was a searing heat that licked at your walls, down to your core. Jay didn’t bottom out, thankfully, but he was already lingering dangerously close to your cervix. He was already panting, his hands gripping your hips as he tried to catch himself. His silver cross necklace dangled in your face, so close you could twirl it around your finger. 

Just as soon as you were getting used to the strange feeling of having a cock jammed in your cunt, you heard Jay’s husky voice. “Fight back,” he whispered before pulling out and slamming back inside of you. Your eyes were trained on Jay’s, and he captured and held your gaze. He thrusted again, harshly, and the slick noise made you realize that you were wet. “You’re just letting me do this,” Jay continued, starting to develop a deep, irregular pace. Quarter notes of hard snaps of his hips, allegrisimo sixteenth-notes of incessant pounding. “Letting me take this pussy. Come on, struggle or I’ll think you want it.”

Jay continued slamming into you, leaving little half moons on your hips from his fingernails. His head dipped down to your neck, and he bit and sucked on a small spot near its base. A hickey. Jay licked a stripe up to the right of your neck and marked you there as well.

You felt wildly conflicted. You didn’t want this, you didn’t ask for this, and it felt odd. Yet at the same time, you felt so full. Every time he drove his cock into you, you felt like you would tear apart. Pain and pleasure coalesced into something you couldn’t comprehend.

Jay’s words devolved into grunting as he thrusted faster and faster. Somehow, the look on his face didn’t seem to display pleasure, or even schadenfreude. He stared at you through darkened eyes and his nose was scrunched.

“You’d let me do anything to you,” Jay said, almost accusingly. “Anything.” With another thrust, you feel something hot and fluid fill your womb, and soon the acrid smell of urine floats into your nostrils. 

Jay stares into your face, waiting for a reaction, searching your face for any weakness. When he finds none, he lets out a strangled groan of frustration and begins slamming into you wildly. He lifts your legs up, gripping them by your thighs, and takes your pussy with the aggression of an animal. “I made you a piss-whore, a dirty fucking piss whore. Aren’t you mad? Aren’t you angry? Are you a fucking robot?” He punctuated his insults with angry thrusts; you could hear the sticky amalgamation of piss and your own cum making squelching noises. You reach for the sheets beneath your hands and search for any purchase. 

Jay let out one final, irate grunt and spilled inside of you, shooting his cum all the way to your cervix. He dropped your legs back onto the bed and rested on top of you, your head between his arms. You had seen a lot of expressions on Jay’s face: anger, frustration, pride, sadistic glee, but this was something else. Something you couldn’t read. You made eye contact with him again, and he pulled out of you, staggering to his feet. He shoved his cock into his boxers and started to dress again. 

Jay opened your door, but before he did he cast one last lingering look at you as you laid on your bed. You looked a sight:forehead shining with sweat, two bright, stinging hickeys on your neck, and a pool of piss, cum, and blood oozing from your pussy onto your bed. Hurriedly, as if someone had ordered him to do so, Jay pulled out his wallet and tossed a flurry of bills on your nightstand. “Get something to eat,” he muttered before leaving, slamming your door.

Your fingers crawled down your stomach and dipped your fingers into your vaginal entrance, mimicking the stretch that Jay had given you.

As you rested there, staring at the ceiling, you decided to determine what had happened. The simple answer was that you had been raped. Could you enjoy rape? You didn’t feel like a victim. You didn’t feel like something horrible had happened to you. If you were being honest, this had been the most interesting thing that had occurred in your life. No one had ever felt so strongly about you in any capacity, and it thrilled you. Jay’s hatred invigorated you, made you feel warm.

It filled you.

You plunged your fingers into your vacant pussy and allowed yourself to moan. 

-

You woke up with a heavy body and a foggy mind. For some reason, you thought that you had woken up at Yeonjun’s party, surrounded by a pile of bodies. Instead, you woke up alone, wearing a clean nightgown. A nightgown? Hadn’t you been covered in bodily fluids last night, dressed in an outfit that Isa had picked for you? And your sheets, they were pristine. You smoothed them down as if trying to find remnants of the night before. Had you made all of that up? And if so, from where? It all sounded unreal. Riding a golf cart in the middle of a storm, partying with the Karma Club, and losing your virginity to Jay…

That’s right. You weren’t a virgin anymore. Your first kiss, your first fuck, they were both Jay’s. You glanced at your nightstand, and you the smattering of bills laying on top of your book. You picked one of the bills up, a one hundred dollar bill. You didn’t even think most stores accepted one hundred dollar bills these days. Christ. 

The next thing to do was to check your phone. A dismal sight greeted you: the time was 4:52, you had nine missed calls and 32 messages to parse through. First, the missed calls. Five from Isa, two from Jake, and one from an unknown phone number. You called that one first, and it picked up on the third ring. 

“You’re alive,” Riki said through the phone. “Jesus. Everyone thought you died.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? You’ve been asleep for over 12 hours,” he said. “Your room door was locked. Isa’s been driving herself crazy, and Jay isn’t helping- oh, yeah, Jay is back.” 

Yeah, no shit. “That’s crazy.”

“It is crazy. Been a stupid ass night. Jay won’t tell us where he went. And Jake’s been tweaking since the party.”

“Jake?”

Riki heaved a sigh. “Yup. He’s been pacing around and he has the temper of a chihuahua right now. He’s in Won’s room right now losing his shit. Swear to God, it almost isn’t worth it being KC sometimes.”

“Stressful night,” you commented blithely.

“Isn’t it? I’m on my way to the Stoker caf right now. I’m gonna fuck up a samosa."

“Enjoy it.”

“Oh, I shall.”

You hung up on Riki and groaned. With a degree of annoyance, you flicked through your texts. 

The ones from Isa were about what you had expected. Concerned “where are you” messages that made up the bulk of the 32 texts. Clearly, she got antsy when she was on molly. It was nice to have someone care, though. You didn’t text her back yet, lest she try to come see you. If you saw anyone right now, you thought that you’d explode. 

The texts you were truly apprehensive about opening were the ones from an unknown number. The message started with “hey, it’s jake”, which boded poorly. You steeled yourself and clicked on the text. 

hey, it’s jake. wanted to let you know that i had a lot of fun partying with you last night :) we gotta get you to the club sometime soon. you me isa and riki so isa won’t be third-wheeling

i hope i didn’t make things weird last night. i didn’t mean to rush you or anything.  i tend to think with my heart first instead of my brain, which makes me do stupid shit

not that kissing you was stupid

it was actually really nice

but i know that there’s been this longstanding situation between you and jay, and you probably don’t have the best opinion of us. i can’t blame you for that. and i know i probably haven’t done a very good job of expressing it, but i’m starting to have genuine feelings for you. been that way for a while, but it’s only now that i’ve gotten the chance to show it

so i got carried away

maybe it’s too soon idk but there’s something about you that’s different. i wanna get closer to you, and even if you don’t wanna pursue anything, i’d like to remain your friend

Hastily, you texted him: Let’s talk in person, later.

Not five minutes had passed before Jake texted you: sure, whenever you want. are you okay?

You: Yeah, you?

Jake: been better. did you just get up?

You: Yeah.

Jake: you sleep like a rock

You: It’s been a long night.

–

You surveyed the damage Jay had done to you in your full-length mirror. Two red hickeys staining your neck, fingerprint-shaped bruises on your stomach, a bruise on your hips, and scars like crescent moons littering your arm near your elbow from his nails digging into you. You found it pretty. 

Shrugging your nightgown on, you glanced at the money that was still on the nightstand. You hadn’t actually eaten anything since you had snacked with Isa. When you left your room, a hoodie covering your nightgown, you checked to see if the Fawcett restaurant was open. It was, but to your dismay Isa was sitting with a group of her friends. She looked exhausted. You remembered that you hadn’t spoken to her or responded to her texts, and you just couldn’t bear to face her right now.

You took the back exit out of the Fawcett building. Hazily, you remembered that Riki had talked about getting a samosa. You called him, and he picked up, making loud chewing noises. 

“Hey.”

“I’m coming to get a samosa. Is the coast clear?”

“Do you mean, is Jay in the cafeteria?”

“...Yeah.”

“Nah.”

“On my way.”

You hung up the phone and, for the first time, walked towards the Stoker dorms. To get there, you had to pass the library, and you made a note to get on the roof and smoke there. It had been nearly a week since the last time you had been able to puff away on a cigarette while you brooded. 

Upon entering, its opulence in comparison to the more modest dormitories was apparent. Why did a college dorm need marble tiles, a chandelier in the dining hall, and a plus red carpet lining the hallway? Unlike the other dorms, which were two story buildings, Stoker had three stories. This was despite being the dorm with the least amount of residents. The foyer faced a staircase that split into two, ultimately leading to the same area. To your right were the glass doors that led to the restaurant. 

As you walked towards the dining area, you looked for Riki. He should have been easy to find, considering his uncommon hairstyle and large stature, but you didn’t see him. 

The dining area was, thankfully, fairly sparse. You shuffled towards the short line for their restaurant, which was a sleek, modern eatery that sold a wide variety of dishes. As you scoured the menu, you heard thudding footsteps behind you. You didn’t bother turning around. 

“Riki tricked me,” you muttered, fingering the bills you had shoved into your hoodie’s pocket. 

“It’s what he’s best at,” Jay said, his breath tickling your neck. “Getting something to eat?”

You would have thought that such close proximity to him would have made you anxious. Instead, smelling his cologne brought a sense of familiarity. Jay teased you, you were the victim. The nature of the universe. “Yeah.”

“With my money?”

“Yeah.”

Jay chuckled. “Well, look at this. I fucked you, you’re using my money…it’s like you’re my girlfriend.”

You turned to look at Jay. He retained his cocksure attitude, but something was different about him. “Don’t you already have a girlfriend?”

He frowned, crossing his arms. “Who?”

Was he an amnesiac? “Isa.”

“Isa?” he asked incredulously. 

“Yeah?”

“Isa,” Jay repeated with a scoff. “No. No, I’m not dating Isa.”

“Tell her that,” you replied.

“I should. Bitch stole my Jane’s Addiction t-shirt,” he muttered. 

“So take it back.” One of the people working beyond the counter politely told you to order, so you turned around and ordered a vegetable samosa, just like Riki. 

“I’ll have what she’s having,” Jay said, flashing his card and tapping it onto the reader.

Things were too amicable. You looked at the card reader, then at Jay, who was grinning at you wickedly. “What, no one’s ever bought you food before?”

“No.”

“Jesus fuck, you really are pathetic,” Jay said, his grin faltering. You walked over to the waiting area, next to the straws and condiments, and Jay followed you over. For a while, you fiddled with a packet of ketchup while Jay stood by, hands in his pockets. You had a million questions you wanted to ask him, but none of them felt suitable for a spot like this, out in the open. 

“Did you tell Riki?” you asked finally.

“Tell him what?” You stared at him pointedly. “What, that we fucked? No. Haven’t told anyone. Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Not even Isa?”

Jay sighed, resting his head on the wall. “No, I’m not going to tell Isa.”

You nodded, feeling a sudden chill. In hindsight, you should have worn a jacket, but you weren’t thinking straight at all. 

“You cold?”

“A little,” you said.

“It’s November, you should have worn a jacket,” Jay said, shaking his head. “Pathetic and dumb…”

When your samosas were ready, Jay got them from the counter. He handed yours to you without a word, so you accepted it quietly. You walked over to an empty table. Like everything else in Stoker, it was needlessly ostentatious. White tablecloths for a college dorm cafeteria? 

Jay sat next to you without prompting. You didn’t know why he was acting so chummy, but you decided to take advantage of it. You decided to ask him one more question. 

“Why’d you do it?” you asked quietly.

Jay waited until he had finished his bite of food before speaking. “Jesus, you’re talkative today,” he grumbled. “I almost miss when you were mute.” 

You sat there and ate your samosa, flicking the crumbs off of the tablecloth. 

“Because I wanted to,” Jay said. He opened his mouth to continue speaking, but a shadow hovered over both of you. When you turned to look at the source of the obstruction, you saw Jake, dressed in his Sad U sweatshirt. His hair was messy, as usual, and he looked exhausted. You chewed your samosa and stared at him.

“Hey,” Jake said, mustering a small smile. “Riki said you were over here.”

Of course he did. “Yeah, Fawcett’s caf is closed,” you said. 

Jake nodded, his hair bouncing. “Wanted to what, Jay?”

Jay looked at Jake inquisitively. “What?”

“You said ‘because you wanted to’,” Jake said, and he began pressing his knuckles against the table. “Wanted to what?”

“Oh, that,” Jay said jovially. “I was talking about last night. I fucked her until she bled and she liked it. Didn’t you, sweetie?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jake said; his knuckles turned white and his voice was low.

“She was so wet,” Jay continued, putting his samosa on a paper towel. “And she purred like a kitten. The only problem was that she was tight as a bitch. I couldn’t even get my dick out of her.”

Jake slammed his hand on the table. “Fucking stop!”

Jay turned to you, his voice becoming polite. “See, Jakey here is having flashbacks. He hasn’t gotten laid in a long time. The last time he fucked a girl, was, well…”

Jay’s head snapped back as Jake landed a punch squarely on his cheek. You caught the smile burgeoning on Jay’s face before he stood up.

“Look at Jakey, trying to be a real man in front of a girl,” Jay said, dodging Jake’s wild punches. “You weren’t so brave last year.” 

Jake lunged for Jay’s throat and they tumbled to the ground. This was fun and all, but you didn’t really sign up for this. “Jake, stop,” you said, mainly because you felt like you had to.

“He’s always saying vile shit about you,” Jake said, holding Jay’s arms above his head. “This isn’t the first time he’s said gross, fucked up shit like that.”

Jay kneed Jake in the ribs with a gleeful smile, causing Jake to momentarily let go of Jay’s hands. The thought of getting in there and trying to pry them apart seemed funny, but it also repulsed you greatly. You got to your feet, took your samosa, and walked away from the dining hall. Whatever history Jay and Jake had, it went beyond you. You felt like you were a pawn in someone else’s game. 

When you got to the doors of the dining hall, Riki was posed in front of them, recording the fight with his phone. He smiled at you, shut his phone off, and pocketed it. “Pretty cool, right?”

“You tricked me,” you said, pointing at him with your samosa. 

Riki took a bite out of your meal. “I told you,” he said through a garbled mouthful, “I love starting shit.”

You couldn’t deny that he was an honest liar. You tucked yourself into a corner and watched Jay and Jak attempt to maul each other. 

You ate your samosa while Riki spoke. “You didn’t try to break up the fight?”

“Why bother?”

Riki craned his head towards your pastry again, so you held it up to him. “They say that indifference is the greatest form of contempt.”

“Thanks for the life lesson, Girl Meets World,” you deadpanned.

He snorted and wiped crumbs from his mouth. “I think I’m starting to understand why Jay is so obsessed with you.”

“Yeah? Why?”

Riki looked down at you and gave you an odd, almost solemn smile. “I think you’re the only person who cares less about life than him.”

–

You needed a smoke. Badly. Ideally, you’d like to be put into a 3-day medically induced coma, but a smoke would suffice for now. 

Unfortunately, life wouldn’t award you that kindness. As you sat in your room, debating on just opening the window and having a sneaky cigarette inside, you heard a knock on the door. A groan slipped from your lips before you opened it.

There stood a battered Jake. Split lip, one puffy, red cheek, and an eye that was swelling. “Jay looks worse,” Jake said with a small laugh. You knew that wasn’t true. “Can I come in?”

You nodded and gestured for him to sit down. He sat on the edge of the bed, resting his hands on his jeans as he gathered his thoughts. You locked the door and sat next to him. 

“I wanted to apologize,” Jake said, licking the fresh wound on his lip. “I acted…I wasn’t acting like myself. I was just so angry that he said those things about you, and it just…”

“It’s fine,” you said, looking down at your hands. 

“Thanks,” he said, sounding relieved. Then he frowned again as he glanced around your room. “Listen, uh…you heard Giselle talk about the Mina thing, right?”

“Yeah,” you said carefully. “I don’t know what it is, though.” 

“Wow. Riki kept his mouth shut for once? Impressive. Well…I figure, if we’re going to be friends, I should be honest with you. This is gonna be kind of heavy, so you know, we can save this for another time, or something…”

“I’ll be fine,” you said. “Go ahead.”

Jake cleared his throat and stared at the ceiling. “Well, last year I had a thing with this girl, Mina. She was…she was really shy. Cute. Artsy. She sort of reminds me of you, in some ways, but she wasn’t as mature as you are. Mina was kind of flighty, you know? She always did whatever she wanted.

“We had the same philosophy class, which is how we met. We sat next to each other, and we would talk during class. So we started hooking up, and you could say that we got pretty close. So, earlier this year, in April, I took her to this KC party. Mina wasn’t the biggest party girl, but she liked to take dabs and chill. The others didn’t mind me taking her, so she came with me.” Jake swallowed and glanced at you before returning his attention to the ceiling.

“We had both had a bit too much to drink, so I took her upstairs to my dorm room. And then…I suggested that we fool around a little. And, well, I got a little…I’m pretty rough. It’s not anything bad, it’s just how I like it. She liked it too. It was one of the reasons why we got along so well back then. So I was rough that night, but she liked it. She was definitely acting like she liked it. I don’t know what happened. The morning after, she was freaking out. She was pointing at all the bruises and calling me…she said that I…” Jake rubbed his chin harshly. “It was all bullshit. I don’t know why she didn’t just break up with me instead of trying to ruin my life like that. She spread that shit over the school, she tried…she tried to sue me. All because I wanted to have fun with my girlfriend.”

You waited for him to mention the suicide attempt, but he never did. Instead, Jake let the silence linger, and it was suffocating. 

“Thank you for telling me,” you said, and to drive your point home, you gently touched his arm. Jake looked down at your hand and smiled. 

“I thought you should know,” he said softly. “I wanted you to know.” Jake leaned back on his hands and sighed. “Feels so great to get that off my chest.”

You nodded, rubbing his arm gently, mentally reviewing all of the information you knew. 

“You know what I love about you?” Jake said. “You’re such a good listener. I feel like I can talk to you about anything.”

“I’m glad,” you said.

“Hey.” Jake grasped the hand on his arm and squeezed it tightly. “I meant it, you know. I do like you, but I’m willing to wait, or even just be your friend. It’s all up to you.”

Jesus. How did regular people deal with this? You looked at your conjoined hands as you tried to come up with something to say. “I’ve never even had a friend,” you said slowly, “so this will take a while.”

“I’ll wait,” Jake said earnestly, his eyes glittering. 

“I’ll need those free smoothies first.”

He laughed. “Yeah, of course. Of course, I’ll hook you up. Let’s head to Stopkewich on Monday, yeah? After the library?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Jake reluctantly let go of your hand and stood up. “I’m gonna go to the health clinic,” he said, jerking his thumb at his eye. “Can’t have this ruining the masterpiece.”

“Be careful,” you said, walking him the short distance to the door. 

“Will do,” Jake said with a wide grin. “See you, Wednesday.” 

As soon as he left, you pulled out your phone and texted Riki.

You: I need Jay’s number.

Riki: why lol

You: It’ll be interesting. I might plant more seeds of strife between your two friends.

Riki: be careful w that

Riki: there’s a delicate balance to shit-stirring

Riki: u can’t do too much of KC will be ruined 

Riki: *or

Riki: like u can’t tell jay some shit that’ll make him hate jake 

Riki: they should hate each other but ntm yk?

You: You’re full of sage advice.

Riki: ikr 

Riki gave you Jay’s number, and you texted him: We need to talk.

Fifteen minutes later, he responded.

Jay: ask nicely.

You didn’t know why you bothered.

You: Never mind. 

Jay: you need to learn how to swallow your pride sometime, you know that?

Jay: thought you would have gotten humbled last night.

You: It wasn’t nearly that transformative an experience.

Jay: god, you’re a cunt. 

Jay: i hope you aren’t getting clingy on me 

Jay: hate it when girls do that

You: You don’t have to talk to me again after this.

Jay: now you’re being dramatic 

Jay: where did you want to meet? your room again? 

You: Rooftop of the library at 11.

Jay: you text like a hitman

Jay: see you then

–

You were on the rooftop at 10:50, finally enjoying your cigarette. You breathed in the smoke, enjoying the subtle burn, and sighed. The rooftop was damp, so you bunched your coat under your butt and sat on it. The air was chilly, but you didn’t mind. You were focused on getting answers.

Shortly after you had finished your first cigarette, Jay sat down next to you, under the awning of the rooftop. It was hard to see his face in the darkness, the only light source being the full, luminous moon. Judging from the little you could see, you could tell that Jay had gotten the upper hand in the fight. “I didn’t know you smoked,” Jay said. 

You stubbed your cigarette out on the roof and shrugged. 

“I could use a smoke,” Jay said. “What do you smoke?”

You pulled another cigarette out of the pack and placed it between your lips. “Marlboro Lights.”

“You smoke lights? You’re as pussy as your boyfriend,” he said, holding his hand out. “What are you staring at? Give me one.”

You handed him a cigarette and lit your own. Jay leaned towards you, cigarette hanging from his lips, so you lit his own as well. 

The both of you sat there, taking long, peaceful drags. You closed your eyes as you smoked, relishing in the quiet. Jay’s presence didn’t bother you, either.

“I take it you didn’t bring me here to smoke with you,” he said after a while. 

“No,” you said. “I want to know about Mina.”

Jay coughed before barking out a sarcastic laugh. “Mina?”

“Giselle mentioned her at the party last night,” you said, taking another drag. “Jake got weird when Giselle said her name…”

“Giselle has such a big mouth,” Jay said. “Don’t know why Heeseung keeps her around.” He took another hit from his cigarette and looked out at the skyline. “You wanna know what happened with Mina? I’ll tell you what happened with Mina.

“Jake doesn’t know how to pick a decent girl to fuck, that’s his problem. He’s obsessed with finding some girl with mental problems and rehabilitating her using the healing power of his 2 incher. So if you thought he liked you for your stunning personality, then I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. He likes you because he thinks you’re weak. Mina was even worse, though. She thought she was special because she liked listening to indie music and smoking weed and having crystals and taking Seroquel. Jake loved that shit, though.

“So we had this party in Sunoo’s room. His room is on the top floor, so everyone kind of just spreads out anyways, out into the halls…you don’t care about any of this. Anyways, it was a small party and Jake brought Mina. They fucked in his room and the next day she was saying that Jake raped her.”

“Did he?”

Jay scoffed. “Who knows? The point is that he freaked out at her. Jakey is really conscious about his image. He likes being ‘the nice one’, so he’s always pretending like he’s not as fucked as the rest of us. So he lost his shit, started spreading rumours, dragging her name through the mud. It was pretty funny, but like I said, she was already fucked in the head. 

“So she called Jake one night, like a month after the party, and she’s hollering, saying all kinds of crazy shit. She said…” Jay took a long drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out. “That she was in the bathroom at her dorm, Fawcett. That she was going to take a shit ton of pills and kill herself and put him in her note, yada yada. I thought it was the usual borderline personality ‘please give me attention’ routine, so I was laughing about it, but Jake was tearing himself up. He was too pussy to go over there, so I had to do it.

“You ever seen someone overdose? Mina’s body was twitching and she was literally foaming at the mouth. I had to make sure that she didn’t knock her head against a sink and crack her skull open. I had to sit there and wait while Jake sat in his room with his thumbs stuck up his ass. She stopped breathing at one point, so I had to give her CPR. After that, she left the school.” 

You looked down at your hands. “What’d she overdose on?” 

Jay stared at you. “What, why does that matter? A girl almost died in front of me. Fuck, I was there when they had to give her naloxone. She probably overdosed on her stupid antipsychotics, who gives a shit?” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. 

“Were you scared?”

“Scared? No, I wasn’t scared. I was just…pissed. Pissed that Jake sent me to clean up after his problem.”

You let out a long trail of smoke, and the two of you fell silent again. The air felt thick now, heavy with tension. 

“You know, I didn’t even like it,” Jay said after a while. 

“Like what?” You stubbed out your own cigarette and pulled another one out of your pack. You didn’t normally smoke this much, but you felt as though you were making up for the nights you had missed. 

“Pass me another cig?” Jay opened your mouth, so you put the cigarette in and lit it for him. “I didn’t like fucking you.” He let out a long trail of smoke and leaned his head against the wall. “Physically, it felt good, but I didn’t get what I wanted from it.”

“What did you want?”

Jay chuckled. “What did I want? What I wanted…I wanted to feel something different, besides the way I feel every single day.”

You blew smoke out of the corner of your mouth. “And how do you feel?”

“Nothing. I don’t feel a damn thing.”

“Maybe,” you began drolly, “you should try having sex with someone you like.”

“Won’t happen,” he said. “I don’t like anyone.”

“So what about Is-,”

Jake groaned and pointed his cigarette at you. “Isa, Isa, Isa. You know what her problem is? She thinks she can change me. I don’t get it. She gets with me, and then she’s like, ‘Jay, hold my hand in public!’ ‘Jay, can you text me good morning?’ ‘Jay, can you take me to Nobu?’ I hate that. All those bullshit romantic gestures. They’re not me, and I don’t know why she thinks I would change for her. I can’t change, and I won’t change for anyone.”

You didn’t speak, so Jay continued talking. “I don’t think people can change, you know. I think whatever you show is who you are. When people ‘change’ because they get a little money, that’s just them expressing what they couldn’t before. It’s not that rich guys are all pedophiles. Every poor family has an uncle that likes touching kids. It’s already in you, and it’s just a matter of whether or not you have the means to express it.”

“I don’t think so,” you said quietly. 

“No? Please, enlighten me with your personal philosophy, Ms. ‘I’ll Let My Boyfriend Get beat Up Cause I’m So Aloof.’”

You sucked in a breath of smoke and blew it out slowly, watching the delicate tendrils evaporate into the night air. “I think if a person no longer believes a fundamental truth, then they change. If a child no longer thinks that they’re safe in their house, then they’ll change their behavior.”

“Yeah,” Jay said, “but they still have the capacity to do so. It’s still in their ability to change.”

“Well, change is a conscious decision. You’re saying that people can’t change, I think they can.”

“Quite an optimistic take from the gloomiest bitch in Sad.”

You shrugged. “I never said people always changed for the better.”

“I guess not.” Jay smoked his cigarette quietly for a minute before saying, “You think your boyfriend changed, or do you think he always had it in him to drive a woman to suicide?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you said. 

“Ooh,” Jay said mockingly, “what are you going to do if I call him your boyfriend?”

You held your cigarette up, grinning. “I’ll put this out on you.”

Only the faintest of Jay’s features were visible in the darkness, but you could see his lips contort into a slight smile. “I dare you.” He took his jacket off, tossing it to the side, and rolled up his thin long-sleeve. “Do it.”

“It’s too dark,” you said.

 In response, Jay took your hand and pressed it on a spot near his elbow. “Right here,” he whispered. “Right here.”

When had you ever denied Jay of a request? You took your dying cigarette from your mouth and ground it into his arm. At first, you did it slowly, but as he hissed, you twisted the cigarette in. If you listened closely, you could hear the flesh searing. A quiet moan escaped Jay’s lips, a sound that made you feel a familiar warmth. When the cigarette was all but ash, you flicked the remaining butt away. 

“My turn,” Jay whispered. Cigarette clamped between his lips, he reached out and zipped your jacket all the way down. You pulled it off yourself, placing it near his own. Jay gently pushed you onto the roof, so that you were staring up into the sky. With warm hands, he pulled your sweater up, exposing a strip of your bare, tender skin.  You lifted your head up so you could see his movements. One hand held your stomach, his thumb idly swiping at it. The other hand was lowering the cigarette onto your flesh. 

It stung and burnt. You felt no shame in letting out a yelp of pain, but Jay kept going. Good. You wanted him to burn you completely, to leave a scar. You felt that heat grow within you, spreading from your core to your heart to your neck. Jay dug the cigarette into your skin the same way you had done to him. He tossed the butt aside. Then he licked the wound, his cool tongue acting as a balm against the searing pain. Jay swirled his tongue around the circular scar, and you whimpered. 

“You like that?” Jay whispered, both hands running up and down the side of your body.

You hated to lie. “Yeah.”

“Then get to work.” He sat up, so that he was on his knees. You lifted yourself off of the ground as well. Your lips met his expectant mouth, and he tasted like ashes. Jay’s hands remained on your waist, stroking you lightly. It was the first real kiss you had ever initiated, and you weren’t entirely sure where to put your hands. Jay picked up on your apprehension and guided your hands down to his belt.

It was difficult, getting his belt off in the darkness, but you managed to figure it out. “Touch me,” Jay said. 

“How?” 

“Just…” Jay sighed. He placed one of his hands over yours and showed you how to rub him over his pants. “Like that. You don’t have to touch it directly right now.” With that, he resumed kissing you, leaving you to palm his crotch. It was fascinating, feeling his cock harden under your hand like that. You applied a little more pressure, and Jay groaned into your mouth. “Yeah, like that.”

You felt his fingers dance over your knees, along your thighs, and pause by your panties. “No one’s ever touched you here, right?” he asked, whispering against your ear. “Like this?”

“Just me,” you said quietly. 

“I didn’t think you fucked yourself,” Jay said quietly. “How often?”

“Depends…” As you talked, Jay had started to rub your engorged clit through your underwear. 

“Mm. What do you think about?”

“I don’t know,” you said. Your head felt like it was filled with cotton. 

“Keep rubbing me,” Jay whispered. “Don’t slack off, now. Tell me what you think about when you’re cumming your pretty little head off.”

“I read…erotica,” you admitted quietly.

Jay laughed, but it didn’t sound as cruel as it usually did. “Of course you do. You read those bodice-rippers where the innocent little maiden gets pounded by some asshole while she cries, ‘No, no!’, right?”

You bit your lip, and he stroked your clit faster. “Don’t get shy on me now,” Jay said, “we were really getting somewhere. So you fuck yourself to books like that? Do you imagine yourself as the innocent little maiden, is that it? Hoping someone will just push your legs apart and fuck you? Is that what the prude thinks about?”

You didn’t speak, so Jay removed his fingers. “Tell me,” he muttered. “Tell me and I’ll let you cum. Tell me the truth.”

Rationality had left you long ago. You used to look down upon people who would throw away their lives and relationships for quick pleasure, but now all you wanted was for Jay to drive you to the edge, make you cum. “If you’re really good,” Jay whispered, “I’ll fuck you slow this time. I’ll be real gentle.”

“I do,” you said, wincing at your own weakness. “I do imagine myself as her. I want someone to…”

Jay kissed your lips once, twice, three times. “Say it,” he said, two of his fingers stroking your clit at an excruciatingly close pace. 

“I want someone to fuck me,” you said finally. 

“Of course you do,” Jay said, still teasing you. “You liked it when I fucked you, right? You liked that I took what I wanted from you. Admit it.”

If Jay was right regarding his fatalistic theory about humanity’s inability to change, then you were fucked. You hated to believe that this simpering desperation had been inside of you the entire time. “I liked it,” you said, head bowed.”

Jay removed his fingers again, and you looked at him with wide, confused eyes. “You said you’d let me cum.”

“Yeah,” Jay said, lowering his jeans, “you’re going to cum on my dick, and you’ll like it. You loved it last time.”

You tugged your panties down, wincing at the wet, shlicking noise they made. “Just let me do everything,” he said. His voice was uncharacteristically soft. 

Once more, your back hit the cool cement of the rooftop. Jay pulled your panties off completely, tossed them aside, and parted your legs. “Close your eyes,” he whispered. 

His cock teased your entrance before he plunged himself inside. Jay fucked your pussy shallowly this time, allowing himself to enjoy it. “Fuck, fuck, that’s good.” It was so much better now that you were wet. Instead of a harsh intrusion, it was more like a pleasant, warm fullness. You ached for him to go deeper. 

“More,” you murmured, and you heard Jay laugh. 

“More? You don’t want me to be gentle? You don’t want me to treat you with kid gloves?” Jay pulled his dick out of you completely, and you shook your head. 

“No, no, I want more, I want it…please.”

“Please,” Jay said, like it was the first time he’d ever heard the word. “Please. You’re killing me.” 

Jay slammed his cock inside of you, hitting you at an angle that made you see stars.  He gathered your wrists in one hand and held them above your head; the other hand braced itself beside you. Every thrust made you gasp with pleasure.

“Jake would fucking…kill himself…if he saw this shit,” Jay grunted, rutting his hips against yours. He was rough, just like the first time. He could hardly talk, speaking through gritted teeth. “If he saw his little crush in a fucking, fucking mating press…fuck…” 

Your gasps had turned into moans as he thrusted inside of you. You wished you could cover your mouth, but Jay still had your wrists pressed against the concrete. You bit your lip instead, trembling as you felt Jay tease the hard muscle of your cervix. You had never managed to get a good look at his cock, but you figured it had to be big. From the way he made Isa choke, to the way he was close to bottoming out. 

Jay used his other hand to squeeze your face. “No, you don’t,” he heaved. “You’re gonna moan for me. Moan like…like a whore. Like a good fucking whore.” 

The second you opened your mouth, you let out another desperate cry. “You love this,” Jay said, under your sweater. He groped your tits painfully, squeezing them like they were inanimate objects. “You love being treated like this, don’t you?”

“I do,” you gasped out. “I like it, Jay.”

“You love it.” He let go of your wrists, grabbed your hips, and moved you up and down his cock himself. With your free hands, you braced yourself on the ground. You could barely take it, but you loved the feeling of being pushed to the edge. 

“Close,” you panted out.

“Fuck,” Jay said. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

Jay paused, ever so briefly, before laughing. It was the first time you had ever heard him genuinely laugh; he tossed his head back and let loose as he held your hips. “You goofy bitch,” he said, pulling out of you. “Nearly made me lose my orgasm.” You let out a nervous laugh, unsure of what to do next. 

He sank deeply inside of you again, but he couldn’t stop giggling. “Where,” Jay muttered. You couldn’t bear to have him tease you anymore, so you kissed him. He reciprocated, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Soon, Jay had built up the same speed, and his kisses moved to your neck. 

“Gonna cum,” he warned, “where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you said, reaching down to play with your clit. 

“Right answer,” Jay said. He drove his cock to the hilt, frantically chasing his orgasm. You weren’t far behind, chills dancing all over your body. “Fuck, fuck, yes, fuck, yes, yes, fuck!”

You came mere seconds after he did, your pussy gripping him tightly. Your back arched as you let out a series of moans. They echoed into the night sky; everyone in Stoker could probably hear you.  You shuddered as you felt yourself clench around his girth over and over again. His hot cum painted your walls, and when you opened your eyes you saw Jay jerking himself off inside you, draining his balls. 

Jay rolled away from you, gasping. “Jesus fuck. I haven’t had a nut like that in…months.”

You crawled over to your jacket and collapsed on top of it. Jay joined you soon after, lying down on his own coat. If you spoke, you felt like you would make everything real. You shivered, both from the lingering aftershocks and from the chill outside. You realized that you had spent the last 4 nights running around storms and hurricanes. It was a wonder you hadn’t come down with hypothermia. 

“Cold?” Jay asked. You nodded, and Jay put his arm around you loosely. He rubbed your arm noncommittally before simply resting his hand on your skin.  

You stared at the night sky; Sadame wasn’t in the country, but it was far enough from the major cities that you could see a decent amount of stars. 

“There’s the North Star,” Jay said, pointing. “And that’s the big Dipper.”

You shifted to look at him. “You like stargazing?”

“Used to,” he said, facing you. “When my parents would fight, I would leave the house….head to the park near my house and lie on a hill. I’d lie on the grass there and just stare at the stars for hours.”

“You never got scared?”

“Nah,” Jay said. “They were scarier than whatever was out there.”

“When my parents fought, I would just read books,” you said. “I got good at blocking them out.”

“Hm. Where are your cigs?”

“One second.” You rummaged through your jacket’s pocket and procured your cigarettes and lighter. Jay took a cigarette, put one in his mouth and one in yours. He took your lighter and gestured for you to lean in. Jay lit both of your cigarettes at once and tossed you the lighter. 

Jay took a long drag and blew the smoke into the air. “What kinds of books did you read?”

You didn't have to think. “Mm…I liked fantasy books. Sci-fi. Anything different from reality. I liked Animorphs, too, actually.”

Jay chuckled. “Really? Those books with the covers of the kids turning into antelopes and shit?”

“Yeah,” you said. “They were pretty good. I was so envious of them, especially Rachel. Imagine how cathartic it would be to be able to turn into an elephant and stomp around.”

“Was that a very common power fantasy for you?”

“It was.” You imitated the sound of an elephant, and Jay snorted.

“You’re doing it again,” he said quietly. 

The smile dropped off of your face. “Doing what?”

“Quit playing dumb,” Jay said. As if he had been shocked, Jay rose to his feet and hurriedly put his coat on. You couldn’t help the wave of disappointment that washed over you. So he was going to leave you alone again, even after that.

“It’s cold as hell out here,” he said in an irritated voice. “Put your coat on. Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“My room,” Jay said, jerking his head in the direction of Stoker. “I have a bottle of jack in there, if you aren’t tired.” He held his hand out, waving it impatiently. “Hurry up.”

Tomorrow, you would have to text Isa back. Tomorrow, you’d have to talk to Jake. Maybe you’d see Lily, get a smoothie. You’d go do your homework. 

Tomorrow, you’d have to reconcile with Mina’s story and how that would affect your burgeoning friendship with Jake. You'd have to figure out if Riki could be trusted in any capacity. You’d have to figure out what you were to Jay, and who Jay was to you. If you should be something to each other at all.

For today, you simply took Jay’s hand.

[carriesthewind]

The IA's "Open Library" is Not a Library, Yesterday's Lower Court Decision does Not "Hurt Authors," and the Planned Appeal Is (Almost Certainly) NOT a Good Way to Try to Change Bad Law (In Fact, It's More Likely to Make Bad Law Worse)

Ok, so a day later, I'm still mad about this. If anything, I'm even madder. I'm going to write this as a response to the Internet Archive's "The Fight Continues" blogpost, but before we begin, let's get some facts straight:

Copyright law in the United States, especially the law around digital lending, currently sucks. It's really really bad, and anyone with a stake in the game - except the big publishers and e-book services that profit from it - hate it.

That said, copyright law exists as a thing. As I said in a previous post, you *can* try to change it through court cases, but there are certain things you cannot change. And there are certain things you can try to change, but it will be an uphill battle to change them in a positive direction. And notably, as bad as digital lending law is in the U.S., it still could always get worse! And one general rule of impact litigation: if you are trying to change the law, you want to make sure you have the best possible facts. Because the worse your facts are, the worse your case is likely to go.

Yesterday's district court ruling DID NOT CHANGE ANY SUBSTANTIVE COPYRIGHT LAW IN THE U.S. I cannot emphasize that enough. Regardless of whatever you think of the ruling, it was applying already existing law to the facts.

This is because the Internet Archive's "Open Library" absolutely violates existing copyright law. It just does! They broke the law, they had plenty of notice they were breaking the law and harming authors (more on that below) and just think the law shouldn't apply because they don't like it.

The Internet Archive's "Open Library" is not a library. Some big ways it differs:

While it pretends to have a one-to-one owned-to-loaned ratio, as the opinion granting the publisher's motion for summary judgement notes, IA concedes that it allows "partner libraries" to add books to its collection and then doesn't check (and has no way of checking) if the book is out of circulation at the "partner library" at the same time it's being "checked out" of the Open Library. In other words, it's like if you took a book, scanned the pages, and then gave the scans to your friend who then loaned the scans out to other people but totally promised they were only lending the scans to one person at a time so it's basically like there is still just one copy! And meanwhile you still own, are reading, and lending out the physical copy of the book. Except instead of one book, they were doing this on a massive scale. NO, THAT'S JUST THEFT.*

Speaking of which, the "Open Library" didn't keep that promise! Their "Emergency Library" just let everyone borrow as many copies at a time as they could! Again, THAT'S JUST THEFT.

Like I'm sorry if you don't like the idea of copyright at all: right now, we live in a capitalist system where authors need to be paid for their work in order to, like, not die. If you take their work, scan it into your computer, and give it away for free to anyone and everyone, THAT'S JUST THEFT.

Also, most authors love libraries! Libraries allow more people to access their books while not substantially impacting their revenue and not impacting their rights! AUTHORS - not just publishers, authors - DO NOT LIKE AI'S "OPEN LIBRARY." Why haven't authors sued to stop this before, why is this the publishers suing? From the above letter: "Even simple copyright lawsuits must be brought in federal court, and often cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. A challenge to the Internet Archive could easily cost millions." Publishers have deep pockets that authors and authors' groups don't. Also, authors who object to AI stealing their work are frequently subject to harassment.

If IA won this case, the new law that would be made is this: it would be legal to steal an author's works.

*I'm using "theft" and "steal" instead of "piracy" throughout this write-up to make it clear what this is. "Pirating books" is just stealing them.

So to sum up the facts above: copyright law in the U.S. sucks, but it exists. Attempting to change it for the better through the court system would be very difficult. Even then, changing the law for the better would likely require a case with good facts. Unfortunately, the law could also change for the worse. Yesterday's ruling did not change any law. The facts in this case are very bad, because the IA absolutely violated copyright law. That is in part because the IA's "Open Library" is not a library; they just steal books. Many (if not most) authors and author's groups don't like that IA is stealing from them. If IA won this case, that victory would mean that anyone was allowed to steal an author's works.

*deep breath*

Ok, let's turn to the IA's statement, "The Fight Continues":

"Today’s lower court decision in Hachette v. Internet Archive is a blow to all libraries and the communities we serve."

The Internet Archive is not a library.

No it's not. It is a blow to the Internet Archive, specifically, because you broke the law and it ruled you broke the law. As stated above, it does not change anything with regard to copyright, including digital copyright, law in the U.S., and therefore does not impact libraries or the communities they serve. If you appeal this ruling, as you have stated you intend to, and the law does change for the worse (which is always a risk of appeal, and a risk that gets worse when you have bad facts), THEN libraries might be affected.

"This decision impacts libraries across the US who rely on controlled digital lending to connect their patrons with books online."

I mean yes, in the sense that "controlled digital lending" isn't normal e-book lending. It's the thing you made up where you steal books and illegally redistribute them.

This genuinely sucks for libraries and communities that don't have other ways of accessing digital books because the current copyright scheme sucks so bad! Real libraries are doing things to try to help, and not just steal from authors! More on that below!

"It hurts authors by saying that unfair licensing models are the only way their books can be read online."

OH GO FUCK YOURSELVES

Ok this line, this line right here? That is honestly why I wrote this whole thing.

How DARE you cloak your theft in the real struggles authors face with unfair licensing models. How DARE you pretend you are on the side of authors when you are stealing their works, and they have made it quite clear that they would like you to stop, please. And how DARE you frame it in this "for exposure" bullcrap that ignores the real struggles that authors have to eat, to get healthcare, to get any sort of fair pay and wages for their work, and instead pretend that all authors should care about is whether or not their books can be read online.

And bluntly? If you - not IA, YOU, tumblr user reading this - if you shared this bullcrap statement and told people to donate money to the IA because of this? If you told people they should steal more books in response (because it's the publishers fault, ignore the real authors who are actually harmed)? How DARE you. How DARE you pretend to be on the side of authors and writers.

"And it holds back access to information in the digital age, harming all readers, everywhere."

Except for those readers who are also authors, and need to eat.

And readers who want to read books that will never get written if authors can't write (because they need to eat).

And also, no it doesn't, because it doesn't change the law. It just applies the law that already exists to you. Because you are not above the law.

"But it’s not over—we will keep fighting for the traditional right of libraries to own, lend, and preserve books."

You are not a library.

You were not (and are not) fighting for "the traditional right of libraries." Plenty of other organizations are fighting against bad copyright law in the U.S. This court case, however, was literally just about you stealing books.

Like I cannot emphasize enough that you were just stealing and you got caught.

"We will be appealing the judgment and encourage everyone to come together as a community to support libraries against this attack by corporate publishers."

You aren't a library.

Fuck you for borrowing the (justified) hatred of corporate publishers to paper over your bad actions.

Does "coming together as a community to support libraries against this attack" mean giving you money, as suggested by the calls to action at the bottom of this page? Because you aren't a library.

"We will continue our work as a library."

You aren't a library.

"This case does not challenge many of the services we provide with digitized books including interlibrary loan, citation linking, access for the print-disabled, text and data mining, purchasing ebooks, and ongoing donation and preservation of books."

First, and most important: these are all uncritically good and important things that the IA does! Despite the rest of this post, I am really really glad the IA exists, that it is doing these things, and I hope that it will continue to do this things!

You are correct that this case does not challenge those services! Because those services aren't just stealing books from authors, which is what you were doing, which is what this case is actually about!

I'm skipping the statement from Brewster Kahle because it's just more of the same. The statement then invites you to Take Action! by donating to IA and positing themselves as standing up for libraries! (They are not a library.)

But real libraries and librarians are actually fighting the good fight over lack of access to materials, especially digital materials and bad laws, and you can support them!

If you actually do want to "come together as a community to support libraries," and support digital access, may I suggest instead donating to The Brooklyn Public Library's Books Unbanned program?:

https://www.bklynlibrary.org/books-unbanned

While they aren't directly challenging bad copyright law, they are directly fighting back against laws that are much more actively and materially impact people's access to books, including providing free e-book and database access to everyone in the U.S. age 13-21. It's a great and important program, and your donations can really help!

[gwens-love]

The space he left behind

Summary: After Nicky’s passing, Agatha doesn’t know how to handel being a good mother to her daughter, and a partner to Rio. She navigates her grief while struggling to reconnect. As Rio hopes to recover the love that binds their family.

Warnings: Angst, grief and loss.

Word count: 1.7k

~Agathario x daughter!reader~

A/N: I used google translate for this sorry if there are mistakes.

Please don’t copy/steal or translate this work thanks.

~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~

As you wandered through the library with a book in hand, you looked up at Agatha, or better said your Mama. She was busy, but you missed the comfort of her voice, the warmth she used to give so freely.

“Mama?” you asked softly, hoping you weren’t interrupting her too much.

Her eyes flicked to you, and a small, sad smile appeared on her face. She had been distant since Nicky was gone, but there was still a part of her that wanted to be here for you, to love you the way he would’ve wanted.

“What is it, little one?” she replied, her voice softer than you’d heard it in days.

You held up the book, looking at her with hopeful eyes. “Can you read this to me, Mama?”

Agatha looked down at you, her expression conflicted. She reached for the book, fingers trembling slightly, and let out a deep sigh. “Maybe… maybe later, my love. I’m… I’m not quite ready today.”

Your heart ached a little, but you nodded. “Can… Mami read it to me, then?”

Agatha’s expression softened, and she glanced down the hallway where Rio was bustling around. Rio heard your voice and peeked in, her face lighting up with a gentle smile as she approached, kneeling down beside you.

“Of course, mi corazón,” Rio said, taking the book from you and winking at Agatha. “Mama and I both have time for our little reader tonight.”

Agatha gave Rio a grateful smile, her hand resting briefly on Rio’s shoulder. Maybe, just maybe, things would be okay together, they would find their way forward, for you.

You nestled into Rio’s side as she settled down with the book, her aura carrying a mix of nature’s calm and something far more powerful… the kind of energy you could feel in your bones. To you, she was Mami, warm and loving, but everyone else knew her as the green witch or Death with a capital D. Her touch felt like spring’s renewal and autumn’s quiet decay, life and death balanced in her very presence.

Rio opened the book, her fingers gliding delicately over the pages. “Are you ready for an adventure, mi amor?” she asked, her voice rich and velvety, holding that magical spark that always made your heart race a little faster.

You nodded eagerly, glancing over at Agatha, who sat nearby. She was watching the two of you with a softness in her eyes, though you could sense a shadow in her heart. Rio noticed too, her gaze meeting Agatha’s, a look passing between them a silent understanding of grief, love, and the weight of the responsibilities they shared.

As Rio began to read, her voice wove the story into something almost real. Her words seemed to hang in the air, each sentence wrapping around you like an invisible charm. You leaned in closer, comforted by her presence, while Agatha, though still distant, stayed close enough to remind you she wasn’t going anywhere.

With both Mama and Mami by your side, you knew you were safe, held between life and death, love and sorrow, warmth and magic. And for now, that was enough.

As Rio’s voice wrapped you in the story, the words began to blur. You found yourself glancing over at Mama, who was watching the two of you with that faraway look in her eyes the one she had whenever anyone mentioned him.

You shifted, looking down at the edge of your blanket, and softly asked, “Mama? Where… where did Nicholas go?”

The question hung in the air, pulling both of them from the gentle quiet of the story. Agatha’s face froze for a moment, a flicker of pain crossing her features. She opened her mouth, then closed it, clearly unsure how to answer. Rio’s hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but even she looked at Agatha, letting her decide what to say.

“Well, my darling…” Agatha began softly, her voice a blend of love and grief. “Nicky… he had to go somewhere very far away. Somewhere we can’t visit him.”

“But he’s coming back, right?” you asked, looking between them, the innocence in your eyes making it clear you hadn’t grasped the weight of what had happened.

Agatha’s shoulders dropped slightly, and she reached out to brush a stray hair from your face. Her fingers were gentle, yet you could feel the heaviness of her sadness. “Sometimes, people go to places they can’t come back from, little one.”

You blinked, processing her words, your heart sinking. “Like… like the stories? Like when someone goes into the spirit world?”

“Yes,” Rio murmured, her voice a whisper, her thumb tracing soothing circles on your hand. “Nicky went to a place like that. But he loved you very, very much, and he’s always watching over you, mi amor.”

You looked down, frowning, the ache of missing him suddenly sharper, more real. “Will I ever see him again?”

Agatha swallowed hard, her voice catching slightly. “Maybe… one day, in a different way. But for now, he’d want us to take care of each other. To remember him with love, even though he’s gone.”

You held their words close, even as you struggled to understand fully. In that moment, you could feel both their hands grounding you, reminding you that even though Nicholas was gone, Mama and Mami would always be here. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.

~<~>~<~>~<~>~

But for Mama, that wasn’t enough. Agatha missed Nicky deeply, in a way words could never capture. She carried the loss in her eyes, in the way her shoulders sagged when she thought no one was looking, and in the quiet moments when she seemed miles away, lost in memories of him.

After she tucked you into bed that night, Agatha lingered by your side, brushing a gentle hand across your hair as you began to drift off. She stayed until your breathing slowed, your small hand still curled around hers.

When she finally pulled away, she found Rio waiting at the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms folded, watching her with a look that held both understanding and sorrow. The green witch, Death herself, could face any darkness with courage, but this grief the emptiness left by Nicky’s absence was something even she couldn’t fully shield them from.

Agatha closed the door softly behind her and let out a sigh. “I don’t know if I’m doing any of this right,” she admitted in a whisper, her voice breaking. “I wasn’t meant to do this alone, Rio.”

Rio stepped closer, resting a gentle hand on Agatha’s arm. “You’re not alone, mi amor,” she replied, her voice low and steady. “We’re in this together. Nicky’s gone, yes, but his love he left that with us. With you.”

Agatha looked down, her fingers brushing the sleeve of her own robe as if tracing the fabric might help her remember his touch, his laugh, the quiet way he’d reassure her during nights like this. She wanted to believe Rio, to find comfort in her words, but the ache of Nicky’s absence was too raw, too present. “It’s just… sometimes, it feels like there’s a part of me that went with him.”

Rio tilted Agatha’s chin up gently, her gaze fierce yet filled with empathy. “You still carry him, Agatha. He’s in every act of love, every time you comfort mi cielo, every time you give of yourself even when it hurts. Nicky would be so proud of you for everything you are, and everything you’re becoming.”

Agatha’s eyes filled with tears, and she let them fall, silent yet heavy with the grief she’d been holding back. Rio pulled her into an embrace, grounding her, her arms strong and steady, as if she could anchor Agatha to the world again.

For a long while, they stood like that in the dim light, surrounded by quiet and loss, yet also by the bond they shared a bond born of love, even through the pain. Agatha knew she had to carry on, not just for you, but for Nicky’s memory and for the family they were still trying to build.

And maybe, with Rio by her side, she would find the strength to face each day anew.

~<~>~<~>~<~>~

“I can’t forgive you. Not yet, anyway,” Agatha murmured, her voice laced with sorrow, her words hanging heavily between them. There was a deep sadness in her eyes, a glint of hurt that hadn’t yet softened, no matter how much time had passed.

Rio’s face softened, her usual confidence faltering as she held Agatha’s gaze. She nodded, understanding the weight of the pain she had caused, the way it still lingered, the wound not fully healed.

“But I will love you until the end of my days here on this earth,” Agatha continued, her voice breaking slightly as she brought her hands up to Rio’s face, her thumbs tracing the curve of Rio’s cheekbones with a gentleness that spoke of both love and longing.

Rio closed her eyes at the touch, feeling the warmth of Agatha’s palms against her skin. For a moment, it was as if the world fell away, leaving only the two of them, bound by love, loss, and the complicated history that lay between them. She knew Agatha’s forgiveness was not something that could be given lightly, nor something that could be hurried. Rio had hurt her, betrayed the trust they’d built, and she understood that forgiveness might never fully come.

“I don’t deserve you,” Rio whispered, her voice barely audible, thick with the weight of her own guilt. “But I’ll spend every moment of this life making it right, even if it takes until the end of time.”

Agatha leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Rio’s, their breaths mingling in the silence. It was a closeness that spoke of all the words they couldn’t bring themselves to say, of all the love that still pulsed between them despite everything.

They stayed like that, bound together, in a promise unspoken yet deeply understood: to hold each other, even when forgiveness felt far away, even when their hearts were heavy with grief. Because love, even in its most fractured form, was a lifeline neither of them could bear to sever.

~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~

Fin <3

[kooktrash]

the art of obsession | kim taehyung

summary: in a world of painters and poets, there were two college students looking for the right sort of inspiration. through devotion in your craft, you find yourself drawn to kim taehyung—a grad student painter who’s everything you’ve ever looked for in a character. his walk, his form of speech, his art, it all captivated you to the point where you wanted to recreate him in words and you begin to realize how similar the two of you really are. you share a sort of obsession in your work that seems like only each other could understand and he invites you into his world of oil paints and charcoals in hopes of drawing you on paper.

✎ genre/au: dark academia. college au. painter!taehyung x writer!y/n [afab. she/her]

✎ 17.4K words

“He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” — Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë

warnings: smut. slight obsession with their work. prestigious college. tae literally takes oc to a graveyard. oc and tae dont take criticism well. unprotected intercourse. oral [f and m]. oc slobs on his knob and tae eats like it’s the last supper. missionary. side position. lowkey passionate sex. fireplace crackling. namjoon and oc used to be fwb. hints that oc and Jimin used to be fwb too. jungkook is tae’s sculpture artist bestie. jimin is oc’s ballerina bestie. namjoon is oc’s writer bestie.

The smell of cigarettes was something you were fairly used to being around where you resided. You’re not sure what makes it so popular among young academics and sometimes you wonder if it’s not the need of nicotine but more so the aesthetic of it that they all seem to enjoy. It seemed to always linger in the air around campus where all the grad students would walk with their heads down and bags under their eyes as stress took over their entire being. You understand the stress but being an undergrad student yourself, you’re not sure you could understand the extent of it that they must feel. All you could really do is watch the way it slowly deteriorates their body every time they step into the library.

Maybe it’s the Literature major in you, but you never fail to try and assess each person that walks in as if you could see their entire character design and what makes them who they are. Today you got a bit lucky because despite how slow your homework had been going, your favorite case of study had just walked in wearing his usual black turtleneck tucked into a pair of loose corduroy pants. He wore a pair of rounded wire glasses that you love getting to see him in and they did wonders to conceal the eye bags you knew were there.

With this smallest hint of entertainment you’ve found through your long and boring study session with only one friend to confide in, you shut your copy of — excuse the pretentiousness — The Pictures of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, and lowered the volume on your headphones enough to be more aware of the cause of his visit today. You rarely saw him in the library and if he did happen to come by it was to check out or check in a single book on Michaelangelo or Davinci.

You were surprised by how close he seemed to have gotten to you today. The table you studied at was only a couple feet away from a book aisle he had currently walked down and now he was just a meter or so away with his head down in his book. The usual smell of smoke surrounded him and despite scrunching your nose at the smell, you chose to ignore it and study him a little further. You even went as far as to lower your headphones until they curled around your neck giving him your attention even if he didn’t know he had it.

As much of an observer as you were, you never seemed to catch on to the way his gaze would shift to you any time you weren’t looking, eyes scanning your features rather quickly as he made his own assessment. You dressed warmly today, probably due to the fact that there’s been a light rain that has been casted over the city, always seeming to linger longer where the buildings were older and all signs of urban life seemed to dissipate. You were dressed in neutral tones today that placed you perfectly with your own surroundings and if this was a painting he’s sure you would be the focal point—or maybe the single spec of bright color you wore which was in this case your powder blue headphones. He’s not sure he’s ever used that specific shade of blue in a single one of his works before but maybe he’ll look into it.

He rarely visited the library but when he did it was always a pleasant surprise to see you there. He didn’t care much to get to know you, he just found the aesthetic of it all captivating. The library was beautiful, truthfully, with its dark wood shelves and polished tile floors that echoed with each step. It was eerily quiet and it always smelled of old books and always reminded him of a cathedral. There were large stained glass windows of poets, painters, dancers, etc. the clear glass windows overlooked the large pond that covered the back of the small campus where the woods began to take over and student life decreased aside from the occasional late night college party hosted there between trees and bonfires.

“He always comes into my work for paints. I wonder why he always pays in cash.” Your friend said, suddenly appearing next to you and not messing with the printer anymore. He must’ve caught sight of Taehyung before he left and considering he worked at a supply store, it was no surprise he recognized him.

“Maybe he hates banks,” you joked, turning to Jimin with a smile. Jimin pursed his lips staring down the aisle where Taehyung had disappeared once he had his book, “Maybe cash is more aesthetically pleasing. He’s an art major, isn’t he? I say he’s too pretentious to use a plastic card—or even worse, Tap to Pay.”

At that you laughed, deciding to continue the teasing of a man you barely knew while also trying to defend him, “Do people ever get tired of throwing words around?”

“Are you referring to my use of ‘pretentious’?” Jimin asked as he moved to the other side of the counter, “I used the term correctly, it’s an adjective meaning, ‘attempting to impress by affecting greater importance and culture than is actually possessed’. His refusal to adhere to society’s technological advances is pretentious in itself. I bet he still uses No. 2 pencils as an act of defiance against mechanical pencils—if he was a writer like you he would probably be more drawn to a pen but he’s an artist and artists make mistakes that get covered up or changed.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at that, “Tell me then, Jimin, what does a ballerina use to convey words? An Arabesque?”

Jimin released a loud groan, “I hate this goddamn school.”

You watched him open his newest generation laptop and hide behind it. He knew now how little room he had to talk. You, yourself, couldn’t utter a word to disagree with him either when in your hand was a Montblanc fountain pen that cost your parents a hefty 1,500$ to get to you when you were first accepted into the school. You’re sure when the time comes for you to finish undergrad, they’ll up the price and give you one worth 4,000$—the most profound amount of proof that you did in fact strictly use pens for everything.

You would never dare mention anything revolving around the money Taehyung’s family is rumored to have because you don’t know anything about him to do so.

All you knew were the few things you’ve noticed — a couple that even made it into your journal — like the fact that he specialized in two mediums; charcoal and oil paintings. He’s a known name at the University for his work and dedication and you saw that through one of his works. It was dark and a bit twisted but it told a story and you think that’s what drew you into him before you even knew it was him.

Despite his strong presence that always seemed to draw you in, he had a gift for making himself invisible in a group setting. He never spoke up in class, never caused a fuss, he was in and out like a shadow.

At the start of the semester you were taken by surprise when you found him sitting in one of the back rows of the lecture hall to an advanced anatomy class that you’re sure you took for very different reasons. Taehyung was interested in the study of the body so he could fully understand the way the it works from the inside out. He wanted to understand how each limb moved, how fluid each bone and muscle connected, how they could contort, see where the organs go, imagine the flesh coming to life when he painted.

In literature, anatomy isn’t referring to the human body. It refers to a separation of a topic into smaller parts for detailed analysis of the work. You did not make a mistake when you chose this lecture, you too wanted to study the body for your work. You wanted to learn how fragile it really was, how it could be destroyed, how hard it was to do so. You wanted to know about which bones were weaker, which organ puncture did the most damage. You need visuals and understanding of its healing process, of the way it moved, how the nervous system worked. Once you had a better understanding of the body, you just knew that you would be able to apply all these things to your writing. You would be able to detail how your character’s body deteriorated outside and in. How the body would slowly break down, which nerves were affected, how the heart worked in that moment. It would be gruesome but intriguing enough for your readers.

Maybe you needed to write something not so dark, something that didn’t make you take courses you didn’t really need but wanted in hopes that they’ll help you understand better. You didn’t actually need to go this far to describe a couple grueling scenes but it helped.

The room was silent aside from the obnoxious sound of the clock, Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock…Ticking.

You stood at the front of your professor’s desk in his clustered office filled with classical literature books and awards for writing all over the shelves. His desk took up the majority of the space inside and whenever you were in here you couldn’t help but feel just a little suffocated. There were barely any words shared between the two of you, he only ever decided to truly grace you with his speech when he was critiquing and yet right now he’s been uncomfortably silent.

The silence had grown so long that you found your attention drifting toward the grandfather clock that was tucked away near the overwhelming stained glass window that overlooked the courtyard filled with wet and fallen leaves. The trees were bare and the fountain had a sculpture of a big swan with its wings spread in what looked like a dance. It always reminded you of the Swan Song, but you never knew if that was morbid of you. The idea of your University of Fine Arts decorating the campus in the black and white birds simply for decor always seemed strange to you too.

There was no way they would ever portray anything without meaning, or at least something not up for interpretation and yet every time you looked at one of the swans, you thought about the Swan Song, the way the bird’s wings were open beautifully with each detail chiseled into the stone. It looked like the swan’s final performance before its end. It wasn’t the sort of symbolism you liked to see at a school with such dedicated artists looking for a way to perfect every aspect of their work as if each one was their last.

“I like it,” your professor finally said, drawing your attention back to him in an instant, “Your writing has improved Y/n, I’m starting to really visualize the plot and I think it has a certain rawness to it that I’m not used to seeing from you.”

The corner of your lips turned upward like you wanted to smile but you wouldn’t fully allow yourself to. He hasn’t looked at you yet, his eyes stayed glued to your paper and it was clear he wasn’t done, “But it still feels stiff—well, the main character does. I can’t understand him yet, he’s just a mystery to me and not one I’m interested in unraveling. I can’t understand his depth and it’s becoming a big flaw in your writing. Everything else sounds wonderful, well articulated and with such emotion… that when I think of him all I see a huge lack of substance. He’s being drowned out by the rest and he’s supposed to be the one I follow when I read.”

You didn’t say anything as your jaw slowly clenched shut, eyes unwavering as he went on, “It’s like you have a lack of knowledge for human emotion and psychology, I’m not sure that’s something that can be easily fixed.”

“Does it make my writing bad?” You asked stiffly and he shook his head no.

“No, your writing is captivating but there’s a very huge disconnect I’m feeling from your characters,” he said, looking up at you, “It takes away the beauty of it.”

Your lips felt sewn shut as he handed you back your paper with all of his notes for you to fix and you felt like crying. You couldn’t even utter out a single word as you forced yourself not to react to his words and leave his office with your head held high.

What did he mean by disconnect? What more did he want you to do? What did you not understand about human emotion? You’re a human, what is there not to get? What else did he want from you?

These questions circled your head for what felt like an eternity, only confusing you more and more as you left for your next lecture. You spent the fifteen minute gap with your journal out jotting down every question that came to mind trying to see how you could find answers to these.

You sat alone in your row of seats waiting for other students to arrive and you took the time to brainstorm. He told you your characters lacked substance and implied that they were hard to visualize. He said that he can’t understand them, especially the lead and that he couldn’t be absorbed into a story about a character he doesn’t care for. He basically said that you lacked an understanding of emotional depth for the characters you write and therefore your stories will continue to have a disconnect until something changes. If only something could inspire you, maybe help you analyze these so-called emotions you couldn’t comprehend. You needed to remove some of the mystery around your character and really dive in on his arc, understand how he felt. How could you do that? It's not like you could fully visualize it yourself either unless you really began to study those around you more than you already do.

You sat up straighter in your seat and looked around as the lecture hall began to fill slowly. The room had a sort of ancient feel to it with long hazelnut rows of desks pressed side by side against each other in an amphitheater manner. There were diagrams and models of the human body plastered everywhere but none looked straight off of a doctor’s catalog. They looked like Davinci himself drew every skeleton in the room. It also had a small echo especially when the rain hit the wall or glass windows that sometimes tuned out the sound of talking students entering the hall.

You recognized most of the faces and the one who passed you as he went up a few rows seemed to distract you more than the others. Kim Taehyung didn’t wear glasses today but he wore a wool sweater and linen pants. There was a small splotch of gray paint on his knuckle that he hadn't seemed to notice as he swung his book bag onto the desk with a small thud, uncaring if anyone heard and ignored everyone around him.

He was similar to your character, almost. He always seemed closed off and unapproachable but behind his eyes was an aura of emotion that isn’t easily interpreted. You found yourself beginning to scribble down in your journal, just basic things you noted about him.

The lazy, bored look in his eyes that made him look tired and unamused by everything that happened around him.

Then there was his stance. He had good posture but when he sat down in his seat he leaned all the way back with his arms on the table like he was observing every person in the lecture hall, even you.

You knew this because for a second your eyes met with Taehyung’s and in that measly moment you just took in the sight of each other. Taehyung didn’t hold much expression in face but his fingers seemed to twirl his No. 2 pencil a little more intently now. He ran his gaze down from your eyes to the curve of your nose and curl of your lips. There was something about your facial features that he was delighted in studying. When you looked away and gave him a view of your side profile he leaned toward his desk more and the leather sketchbook that rested over his textbook was flipped open as he began to sketch you.

The drawing didn’t mean much to him, it was just a small doodle to pass time, his hands had to always be sketching and you happened to be his distraction today. Usually he doesn’t really pay attention to you when he’s in class, you sit far enough from each other that you never interact and when he catches you in the library you always seem lost in your own world.

He knows your name, he read your story last semester simply because it intrigued him. It was published on the school forum and won an achievement so he checked it out and it was good, your writing is intricate, or at least that’s what he thinks. He’s able to follow along to every word and not be bored or confused but with a certain degree of understanding that the reader needs to learn. There’s an aura of mystery around it, yet it was not something that he couldn’t comprehend and he thinks that’s why he was able to enjoy it.

At the end of the lecture he had three small drawings of you.

“Come on man, it won’t take long, just one drink,” Jungkook begged him for the third time in a row. Despite his friend’s darker exterior dressed in black jeans, a black tee, and a black leather jacket, he was way more outgoing. He was always trying to get Taehyung to go out for drinks or to party but he just doesn’t have the time.

“Not tonight,” Taehyung said as he opened up his pack of cigarettes and took one out, sliding it to his lips before burning the end with his lighter. He handed the pack to Jungkook who took it without question and did the same.

Jungkook released a sigh in disappointment, shaking his head a little as he said, “Whatever man, you say that every night.”

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders as he took a drag and pulled it out between his index finger and thumb, “Then get the hint.”

His friend wasn’t listening anymore, choosing instead to stare at the building in front of him, dimly lit from all the lamp posts. It was just after sunset and the only students around were probably working on assignments like Jungkook and Taehyung. Taehyung took advantage of the art room to work privately and in a bigger space while Jungkook worked in the warehouse where he could work on his new sculpture. Taehyung couldn’t understand why Jungkook cared about whatever was going on at the library till he casually looked over too.

“She looks familiar,” Jungkook said pointing to you as you walked down the sidewalk toward the bus stop. Taehyung looked too, you had a tote bag like most students around here and there was a butterfly clip in your hair but it still looked messy. Your hair was down earlier and at some point you decided to put it up and he realized now that he didn’t have a preference on how hair looks on someone. He likes the style you had earlier and the one you have now too because they enhance your features more.

“That’s Y/n,” Taehyung said casually as they went to the parking lot. Jungkook looked at him curiously before glancing back at you, “You know her?”

Taehyung didn’t have an answer for that so he didn’t give one, he just walked ahead wondering the same thing. “Let’s get a drink,” Taehyung finally gave in and Jungkook immediately cheered. “Yes! Okay, don’t worry, just one.”

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder… that is what every artist has ever been taught. Taehyung has never been able to disagree with a statement more than that one. There is not beauty everywhere, it is not as inclusive as one might think and to truly understand art in the many forms it could take, one needs to understand the meaning of genuine beauty.

It’s quite terrifying in a sense, for one to be able to lose control and fall for the Dionysian seduction and view beauty for what it truly is. It is a raw and exhilarating topic that cannot be defined by just looks or words but more the freedom of life, life is beautiful in its own twisted way and to accept that definition is to be able to portray that in what you do. That’s why Taehyung’s art tends to lean toward a more dark and twisted form. When he creates art he’s not just looking at creating something nice to look at or something with a hidden meaning that no one would ever truly understand. When he creates, he wishes to express human emotion through his work—he wishes to make others feel things they’ve never felt before and that is the beauty he is chasing after.

Beauty is not a person but a feeling and when he looks at you he seems to understand that better.

It’s not just your outward attractiveness that draws him in. It’s the terrifying beauty that you radiate in your gaze, in your mannerisms, in your writing. It intrigues him and if he could put you on a canvas and unravel everything inside you — your fears, your joys, your tears — he would but till then you’re nothing but a familiar stranger that invades his mind when he least expects it.

“Taehyung, your work is beautiful,” his professor said, “Everything you create is effortlessly perfect but…”

He waited with a bated breath, already not liking where this was getting. He watched closely to the way she tilted her head in curiosity, “It’s rather dark, don’t you think? Maybe hard for interpretation an—“

“It’s not made to be interpreted by anything but the way it is,” Taehyung said boldly, “Once art is set for others to create a new meaning for it, is it ever truly art?”

“I guess I am not understanding what you mean,” she said leaning forward against her desk.

Taehyung released a sigh like this conversation with his senior was tedious, “When you look at Picasso’s work, do you think he created it for others to understand? Or was that something that people began to believe? He created art that was unconstraining to himself and his life.”

“Yes but look at Salvador Dali, the entire aspect of surrealism that he used was to unleash the power of imagination and creativity. You can’t just shut your art into a small box for the sake of aesthetic,” she said and that made him scoff, his lip curled in distaste, “And let’s look at Monet? He’s practically what started the entire idea of Impressionism.”

“What it meant to him, how he viewed it at that moment, that was all,” Taehyung said, which made the advisor release a sign, “Claude Monet once said, everyone pretends to understand his art, as if it were necessary to understand when it is only necessary to love.”

“I’m afraid this conversation will go back and forth if we continue,” she said with a huff, already irritated by the way things are going, “The exhibition is in three months, in a month I’ll connect with you on how everything is looking and give you the rundown as well is there anything else you need from me, Mr. Kim?”

Taehyung shook his head and without a goodbye he was getting up from his seat and storming out. Not even a second after the chestnut double doors shut, did he find himself reaching into the pocket of his jeans to get his pack out. The cigarette sat perfectly between his lips as he blocked one side with the hand so the wind didn’t blow his lighter out and he lit the tip, ignoring the ‘No Smoking’ sign just a couple feet away. He couldn’t help but mumble, “Stupid bitch,” under his breath once he finally left the building.

As he rounded the corner, something hit his chest and his free hand immediately the person steady in front of him.

Your hand was on his chest to keep from hitting him and as you looked up, your eyes widened just slightly. Taehyung didn’t say anything as he let you go, brushing against your side and moving around you to leave feeling your eyes on him. You watched him head the way you just came from and finally snapped out of it when you heard your friend call for you.

He turned to look for you seeing you already walking over to some tall and muscular guy. The guy gave you a dimpled smile as he followed after you, no longer in Taehyung’s peripheral.

“Maybe he has a point, Y/n,” Namjoon said as he walked with you to the bus stop, “If you’re struggling then maybe you should think about altering the character more.”

You shook your head in displeasure, “No, I’m not going to change him, I just need to be able to visualize his characteristics.”

Namjoon released a sigh as he pondered over what advice to give you, but came up blank, “I mean… maybe you just need some real inspiration from those around you. ”

The both of you went silent trying to find a solution and you looked up at him curiously. Namjoon would be an amazing reference for a character but he doesn’t fit the image you want him to. He was like light, he was kind hearted and charming and so unbelievably smart but that’s not how you envisioned the main character in your story. The kind of character you had in mind was supposed to act similar to… well, Taehyung. He’s supposed to be a bit mysterious, cold, not necessarily a likable character but someone they can’t help but be curious about.

“Namjoon,” you called his name and for a moment he grew hopeful to the idea that maybe you were thinking of studying him the way you do with others—even if he knew that would never happen. Instead, you came to a stop and looked up at him, “I forgot my laptop in the ffice, I’ve gotta go get it.”

His brows furrowed, looking down at your tote bag, “I’ll come wit—“

“No, you have to work, right?” You asked, already backing away from him, “I don’t want to make you late, I’ll just catch the next bus.”

Before he could argue, you were already taking off in a hurry back down the way the two of you came from. With a sigh he watched you leave wondering why he always seemed to be a couple steps behind you and never beside you. All he’s done since he met you was follow your lead in friendship and outside of it.

Even when the two of you had sex months ago it was always when you wanted and never when he did. If he even thought to ask, all you did was blow him off and then question him on if he’s seeing anyone at the moment. In the same second you would press your lips to his cheek and remind him how much you adored him even when you blew him off he always found the act of it a bit poetic.

He loved you, but it’s a love unreturned and if he wants to stay by you, it has to be with him at the back of your mind and never at the forefront.

With that understanding, he had no choice but to let you go back toward campus walking across fallen leaves and dead branches while he went to the bus alone.

Your legs had taken off before you could even decide where to go and in the end you found yourself heading back the way in which you met with Namjoon—and also the way you bumped into Taehyung. You were never much of the shy type even if it appeared that way, your friends always said you were the selective type—only choosing who to be outgoing with and even then it was rare and required a lot of work to get to you.

They had it easy, Jimin was a childhood friend and Namjoon was in the same writing department as you but that’s as far as your circle went. Well, no, there’s Yoongi too but he’s a pianist and these days he’s so busy with lessons and trips to the orchestra, you barely see him.

Like stated, you were selectively social and right now, you were choosing to find Taehyung so you could formally talk to him. It took you about ten minutes of mindlessly walking through the courtyard to locate him and when you did, you came to a halt. He was just a few feet away now, cigarette between his lips, crouched down against the wall of some historic looking building with castle-like elements and you know he saw you coming when he turned his head and looked right at you.

That was the push that had you walking toward him and saying, “Kim Taehyung?”

“Yes?” He asked, looking you up and down, eyes unable to help themselves as he looked up from your legs to your face. You wore a black fitted turtleneck underneath a brown sweater vest tucked into a black skirt. You wore long 70s style brown boots and mesh tights too. Your hair was pinned back with a hair clip and pins and your ears were lined with simple yet pretty earrings. When his gaze finally met yours, he couldn’t help but take in the sight of you once more.

“My name is—“

“I know your name,” he said with a small glint in his eye, “Obviously.”

You didn’t pull away from his intense stare and watched him bring the cigarette back to his lips, “I thought it would be more appropriate to introduce myself.”

“Mm,” he exhaled looking down at the cement below his feet, flicking the end of the cigarette to let ash fall, “So what could I do for you, Y/n?”

He looked up once more and you bit your lip in thought, “If you are free, I wanted to see if you’d like to get a coffee with me.”

“I don’t like coffee,” he said, finally putting the thing out and standing up, “And it’s almost sunset.”

You blinked in surprise as he stood in front of you now but you didn’t back away, “Then we’ll just have dinner.”

“Thanks,” Taehyung swung his bag over his shoulder, “But I’m kind of busy, I’ve got somewhere to get to.”

He was already walking away to hide his look of surprise. He didn’t expect the two of you to ever really talk and he didn’t really know what to do. He ended up rejecting before he could even truly think it over. He imagined you as just a fantasy — nothing he could ever explore but that he could dream about. He just wanted to look and think about you but never know anything beyond what was on the surface—like a painting.

“And you can’t have a plus one?” You asked in your final effort to get closer to him completely unaware of what he thought of you. You watched him come to a stop, and for a moment you tried to imagine him contemplating. Taehyung turned to face you, “I’m not going anywhere fun.”

You stayed quiet as he went on, “And some might find it scary.”

It seemed like he was trying to warn you as if to let you back out of your own proposal but he wasn’t saying no and that was hopeful. You tilted your chin higher, “As long as you don’t plan on murdering me, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

That made the corners of his lips turn upward in an arrogant smirk, “Okay, Y/n, follow me.”

The walk wasn’t too far from the college but the college was already a bit on the outskirts of the city. All you saw were green, dying hills as autumn threatened to take over and it took you a second to understand where he was taking you until he was leading the way down a steep hill toward an empty and cold graveyard. It was a straight line of jagged tombstones and overgrown plant life entwined around them. There were clear dirt paths leading down row after row of old graves and a few Angel statues but nothing too bad, at least that’s what you’re telling yourself.

“I told you, you might be scared,” Taehyung said as he walked parallel to the graveyard toward a tree that stood tall along the sloping hill, “But this is the best view of twilight, if you want, I could walk you back to campus.”

“No, it’s fine,” you cleared your throat deciding to walk ahead of him so you could be the one sitting upright against the tree. Taehyung dropped his backpack a few feet away from you and began getting his things out.

You didn’t question him, only observed the way he carried on like you weren’t even there. It’s not like you minded, you didn’t have any real agenda to get him to spend time with you and frankly, you felt a bit relieved to see that he wasn’t trying to figure out what you wanted. It was unspoken the way the two of you seemed to think similarly and brought out your tools.

Taehyung didn’t say anything when he flipped his sketchbook open and found a charcoal he could use as he began to sketch without much thought into it. He even made himself comfortable by lying back, using the angle of the hill to help him not lay horizontally and he bent a knee up as a sort of flat surface he could rest his book on. There was a small breeze that carried through his linen shirt and brown trousers but he wasn’t much worried about himself.

He was more worried about you, who had asked to spend time with him but had no real plan to do so. He’ll admit, when he said no it was just on reflex from all the other times he’s out right rejected others before but he only thought it over because he’s been curious of you two. When you told him you would join him for a moment he debated saying no again because this was his favorite place to be to watch the sunset but it wasn’t all that normal. He even tried to warn you and offer to take you back when you saw the graveyard but you didn’t even seem to care when you sat down. Now that he’s looking at you up close, he can see the way your brows furrowed in concentration as you scribbled in your journal, already feeling inspiration.

It’s now that Taehyung is realizing why he’s been so curious. He finds you beautiful, he’s sure he’s mentioned that before, but he finds you beautiful in an unsettling way. Just looking at you seemed to send him into a wave of emotion like you’re exactly what he’s wished to create on canvas. Before he even knew what he was doing, his hands were working away to make another sketch, eyes on you as he worked.

“What are you writing in that little journal of yours?” He found himself asking after some time. The sketch was rough and yet it was so refined that there was no mistaking what it could be. It was a monochromatic sketch of you with your back against the tree, legs straight before you and your hair covering your face with the howl of the wind. Your hands looked delicate when you wrote and you looked so lost in your own work that managed to capture that same essence in his drawing.

When you first looked at him, your eyes went down to the pack of cigarettes he was now messing with and out of curiosity he raised it to you as if asking if you wanted one. Moving to sit forward, you took one and held it between your lips as he dug into his pocket for his zippo lighter, flipping it open and bringing it toward your face to light the cigarette. He watched curiously as you leaned back a little, took an inhale/exhale, and said, “I’ll tell you if you show me what you’ve been doing in that little sketchbook of yours.”

For some reason a small smile came to his face as he laid on his side using his elbow for support and reached over to hand you the sketchbook. You took it with a sense of excitement that quickly turned into disbelief as you looked at it. The back of your index finger hovered over it but never touched for fear that you would smudge it or worse—ash, and when you finally handed it back to him, wordlessly, his cold fingers brushing against sending a warm current down your arm.

At this exchange, Taehyung moved to sit up, not bothering to brush off any loose grass blades off his linen shirt and read over a short passage.

A certain coolness in his gaze that made him appear cruel.

A charming aura that seemed timeless, not modern but ancient like he was created from every classic literature known to man.

His gaze, his smile, his voice—all deep like red velvet.

The list went on, each short sentence followed by another in what one could assume was meant to describe him. He didn’t say anything either as he handed it back to you the same way you had done with his sketchbook. Neither of you were looking for critique or praise, more so acknowledgement of what the other had been doing and once you had it, it was enough.

Taehyung stared forward as the line of bright Orange finally vanished from the sky and a cool blue clouded it. The atmosphere shifted now as darkness began to swim across the sky and you both knew it was time to go. Nothing was said as you both stood up with your things and even less was brought up on your walk back to campus.

It wasn’t until you stood at the bus stop that Taehyung decided to ask, “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“No.”

He pulled out a piece of paper from the pocket in his trousers followed by a pen as he scribbled something down before handing it to you, “Meet me here at 8:00pm.”

You didn’t have to say anything for Taehyung to know you would show and he left without much of a goodbye.

The place you arrived to at 8:00pm on the dot wasn’t exactly what you had in mind but it wasn’t much of a surprise either—it was a warm record bar. The one thing that did seem to surprise you was Taehyung’s choice in music where he preferred jazz over classical. The bar was dimly lit only by shaded, vintage lamps and the small yellow candles near all the booze. The walls were lined with vinyls and the deep mahogany trimming gave the record bar a sort of dark academic charm to it.

When you found Taehyung he was sitting at a small round table fit for two and he had a book in hand—The Picture of Dorian Gray. He wore his usual metal wiring rounded glasses and his dirty blonde hair seemed quite soft and full of life. The dark brown sweater he wore matched well with his tan slacks and you didn’t miss the way eyes would fall on him. It was this charming, educated college boy with a rich father sort of energy that radiates off him, but also the clear look of disinterest written all over his face and it made people curious.

You debated calling his name to let him know you were here but when he looked up in time to catch you walking his way, you were aware that he had been waiting for you and checking the door every couple seconds. Taehyung didn’t shy away from taking in the sight of you in an olive green maxi dress paired with a thin white cardigan tied together at the top of your breasts and below your collarbone. You wore black boot heels this time and when you sat down in front of him he couldn’t help but look at your face now.

“You’re late,” he said as he closed his book and set it to the side. You didn’t even bother to look at the Swiss watch on your wrist as you said, “It’s 8:00, like you said.”

“Yes but what I meant was 7:55 which should have translated to 7:45,” he said annoyingly arrogant as he slid a menu toward you, “As per the rules of a first date.”

His tone was serious as was his body language and yet you could see the hint of amusement in his attempt to hide a smile. You smiled softly, setting your bag down next to you, “I was unaware this was a first date.”

“So you assumed this was the second?” Taehyung had a teasing tone now, “I, personally, would not call an evening together at the cemetery a first date.”

“I do say, I’m a bit surprised to even know you consider this a date after we barely talked at all yesterday,” you said as a waitress came over with a customer service smile. Conversation floated between you two with ease.

“Are we ready to order?”

Taehyung looked at you but you weren’t all that hungry so he ordered a single slice of pastry for the two of you to share, “Yesterday was just to enjoy and accept the presence of one another, tonight is to communicate and learn.”

Taehyung never cared much for investing time into someone he was with, usually if he ever showed any interest in someone or was short lived. He’s not sure what would happen exactly but once the excitement of pining for someone romantically wore off… he just did not care anymore. There was too much to handle and he didn’t have time for any of it—not the clinginess, the crying, the whining. God, the whining got to him.

Why do you ignore me so much?

You’re always too busy painting to notice me?

Taehyung, I just want you to spend time with me.

It was the constant whining that he hated because they just did not get that he was completely devoted to his art and nothing else mattered as much as it did. Yes… maybe the small ounce of excitement he felt helped inspire him but… well he does not need whoever he slept with anymore.

The infatuation had worn off and he’s back to being alone again but now he’s a little too curious about you. Hence, why he asked you out first and in such a haste.

“Alright,” you said, “So then tell me something small, for instance, what time did you arrive? 7:45?”

“7:30 actually,” Taehyung said as he lifted his mug of hot tea to his lips, “I had business to take care of around campus and I didn’t want to make the trip back home.”

“Well if you asked for my number I would’ve arrived sooner.”

“It takes away the romantic aspect of waiting for the other to arrive without hearing from them—maybe I’ll write you a letter instead,” he teased. You just laughed softly and asked, “I didn’t peg you as much of a romantic. And what business?”

“Nothing too important.” Taehyung said vaguely and despite your curiosity you didn’t push him to answer. The corner of his lips raised as he looked at you, looked at him and found himself saying, “But as for being a romantic? It depends on who you ask.”

You focused on what he said about that instead of what his business was and that made him happy. What he did was not that important but it was necessary after what had happened with his advisor. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around what she had told him and in the end he made and impulsive decision to gift her something that might make her see things from his point of view. Of course it was slightly biased but he believed his piece really explained his views on beauty enough for her to understand.

Taehyung delivered two paintings to her inbox earlier. The first one was a more finished painting of you, still slightly distorted and a bit dark but there was no hiding the romantic element that radiated off of it. He called it ‘Genuine Beauty’. The second painting was a distorted and bright picture of his professor with exaggerated features that weren’t pleasing to the eye and he called it, ‘Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder’.

A true sentient on what he thought of her words. He wanted to know how she would twist the grotesque image of herself into something beautiful.

“What have you been up to aside from writing me?” Taehyung asked, looking at you with interest.

“Aside from that, I’m afraid not much else,” you confessed, “I’ve been in a sort of dry spell trying to understand my character.”

“Tell me about them.”

“Well, it’s a him and he’s similar to you.”

He listened closely to each word you said, taking in the curve of your mouth when you talked and the way you gestured with your hands. He’ll admit, the character did seem very similar to him so he can understand your curiosity in him and the fact that you seemed to lose yourself in your craft didn’t go unnoticed by him. He simply nodded his head and replied with short answers when asked.

In the end, he offered the only thing he could, “Let me be your case of study then, and in return you’ll be mine.”

You smiled this time, a small arrogant smile as you said, “Will you paint me like one of your French girls?”

He understood the reference and found himself saying, “If you write me like one of the lovers in your poems.”

By the end of the night you found yourself in the back of a taxi driving straight to his place under the pretense of another drink. Conversation seemed to flow with ease between you and it ranged from Davinci to Monet, Shakespeare to Milton and whatever was in between. Even when Taehyung asked such a heavy question, you didn’t seem to struggle to find an answer.

“Do you believe in love?” He had asked as the cab stopped in front of a house similar to an upstate New York townhome. He had you by the hand helping you out of the car and held onto you as he led you up the stone path.

“I have to, I’m a writer,” you told him and he seemed to pull you into him more.

“But what is it that you believe it to be?”

The question did make you think a little bit. It’s not that you thought Taehyung had an ulterior motive in asking you such a thing; it’s not like the two of you were seriously into the idea of it but you wanted to give him the right answer—one that truly described you and your ideals.

You didn’t answer his question right away as he let you into his home which was no different than what you imagined it to be. His apartment was in an old building turned into luxury Victorian styled apartments with modern eclectic touches. It was a put-together mess of sketches and canvases littered around the place. The floor was made of a dark, polished hardwood and his furniture all seemed worn through with velvet cushions and engraved wooden trimmings. He had floor-to-ceiling bay windows with twine hanging across them and papers clipped on with laundry pins to dry. There was a warm feel to the place and it had everything to do with his dedication to earthy tones and shades of Morocco red.

There were painting supplies everywhere from scattered charcoals and cans of linseed oil for his paints. There were stacks of literature books and various art ones piled high on nearly every surface and yet it all seemed to be organized to what you could assume only he could understand. Taehyung didn’t even seem to mind the clutter as he chose instead to ask, “Red or White?”

“Red.” You responded quite simply before resuming your studying of his place, the fireplace on one wall was surrounded by canvases and books—same as the vintage bookshelf and for a moment you wondered if his bedroom looked any similar. The thought vanished quickly when you got the smallest hint of which room that might be from the open door down the hall. He had plain gray sheets on an unmade bed and the furniture in there was scarce, like he barely spent any time there and if he did it wasn’t to sleep—the bags under his eyes told you so.

“Have you thought of an answer to my question yet?” Taehyung asked, reminding you yet again of what he asked earlier. He handed you a wine glass and you took it with a nod in gratitude as he left you to find a record to play.

“I’ve had an answer all along, I just wasn’t sure how you would feel about it,” you said and you could see him smile as he moved the needle over the start of the vinyl, Nocturnes, Op 9 began to play.

“I’m not looking for anything in particular, just an insight on what you think,” he said honestly and with a small sigh you decided to tell him.

“I think love is more so… a choice than an emotion?” You finally said as you watched him take a seat on the floor near his coffee table instead of the velvet couch behind him. He motioned for you to join him, “How so?”

“Anyone can feel love at any given moment but it is fleeting,” you sat down, knees nearly touching his, “Tell me, have you ever felt in love before?”

Your question seemed to catch him off guard yet he answered as bluntly as he would regarding anything else, “Only with my paintings.”

“And that had been a choice, to continue, right?” You asked, “Love like every emotion is temporary and inconsistent. Yes, doing certain things or being with certain people might invoke these feelings but once that has dwindled it is your choice to remain in that constant state of loving something—or someone. I love writing, I always have because it is my choice. I choose to subject myself to the hardships that come with my work even at times where I think I hate it. Even at times when I choose to give up I think about the joy it brings me, the emotions that pour out of me and onto every letter and word I put down on paper. I choose to love writing, I choose to devote myself to it and I choose to put it above anything else in the world, even my own relationships.”

Taehyung could see it in your eyes how strongly you felt about it. Your answer had gone slightly off topic but he understood your reference to it in every word you spew, “So when I say I believe in love… I don’t mean it in regards to a feeling that transpires throughout inconsistently, but I mean it as a choice to continue to feel that way even when it hurts and I can’t take it any more.”

A silence seemed to drag on between you and for a moment you wondered if you said too much and sounded too stupid. Taehyung seemed to inhale and exhale at once, “Well, I do say, we have very similar ideals. I don’t think I could’ve put it into better words than a writer even if I tried.”

You couldn’t help but smile, hiding it behind your wine glass, “Maybe you’ll paint them instead.”

“Maybe, I’ll paint you instead,” Taehyung said with a pale yet serene expression like he was scared to speak his words and exhilarated by them all the same.

How could someone seem to get lost and sound so dazed when talking about writing? Did writing mean as much to you as his art did to him? Is that why there was never a need for many words to be spoken between you? Was that why he was able to enjoy your presence so long and so quickly when before you would never even speak? Was there always this underlying connection between your minds and how you viewed art and your world?

You rested your glass on the table as you took in his living room again and all its character, there was a set of paintbrushes just laying on his table and you reached for one. The wood was smooth between your fingertips as you twisted it before looking up at him with a curious gaze, “With one of these?”

Taehyung simply nodded his head watching you lift your skirt up just enough to expose a bit of leg and you brushed the art tool against your calf, “It’s soft.”

His tongue ran over his lips and he leaned forward to gently take the brush back. You were nearing an apology for taking it without asking him first but he simply scooted closer to you on the blanket he laid beneath you and placed your legs over his, skirt of your dress rising even further until he was running the brush over the curve of your knee, “I use it to blend shadows, like this.”

The brush felt soft against your skin, sending tingles down your spine as he ran it over you in circular motions, eyes on yours.

“I tried painting once,” you said as his finger slowly traded with the brush until he was softly touching you, “I wasn’t that good, I couldn’t portray the right picture.”

Taehyung just smiled as he felt you hand go over his while taking the brush back until you were tracing the curve of his wrist, “Paint with your words, and show me you’d write me, like your character.”

“He is very similar to you,” you said, “In almost every aspect and I didn’t realize that until today.”

“Mm,” Taehyung hummed in content when you lifted the brush toward the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, teasing him without realizing it. You seemed to use the brush against him without much thought of what you were doing and how it affected him. You should know, though, that the feel of his art tool against his skin would feel good to him. The soft bristles tickled his collarbone, “How would he make love?”

That seemed to catch you by surprise as you slowed your touch to look up at him. He just bit his lip, hand on your leg caressing it as he waited for your response. Without missing a beat, you said, “Slowly, starting with a sweet kiss.”

A small smirk came to his face, one that only he could pull off without looking cocky. He looked smart and pretty with his glasses and blonde hair, when he spoke he made it sound poetic and when he looked at you it felt like he was focused on whatever was beneath the surface. You watched him push his glasses up the slope of his nose and before you knew it, he was leaning closer, lithe fingers coming up to touch your chin and tilt your jaw.

Although you knew what was coming, there was no denying the small second of hesitation that coursed through you when his lips so tenderly pressed against yours, his voice low as he asked, “Like this?”

You licked your lips despite the extremely small space between yours and his and without the ounce of hesitation from earlier, your hand came up to his neck where you pulled him into you for a real kiss. It started off slowly just like the two of you knew it would but there was no denying the desire that laced throughout it. At first all that happened was your mouths moving against each other, getting used to the idea of kissing — something neither of you have done in a while. Then, it became more feverish. If possible, you seemed to move closer with your hand on his thigh to support yourself. You were on your knees leaning into him and he had a single hand against the floor to support his sitting position while the other was cupping your chin for the best angle. There was a growing intensity between your mouths, lips moving more forcefully now, saliva gradually increasing when you felt his tongue make a swiping motion against your lips.

“Or like this?” His voice had become more hoarse with need. He enjoyed feeling the way your body seemed to lean toward his and he seemed to ask, “What would he do next?”

“It’s not what he would do next,” you said as you moved without your own violation and trailed your lips along the curve of his jaw, “But what would happen to him next.”

Taehyung’s head seemed to tip back as he used both of his hands to keep him upright while you moved between his patted legs to kiss down his neck. He licked at his lips, slowly blinking at the first feel of your tongue licking his ear lobe before you sucked it into your mouth making a tingle run down his spine. Your warm breath tickling his ear made his breath bitch and it didn’t take you long to realize that you had found his weak spot. Unable to help yourself you brought your mouth back to his for a kiss that was much needier than any of the ones prior.

“Y/n,” Taehyung’s throat was dry and it made his voice raspier than usual, “Touch me more.”

The words surprised you. You didn’t take him for much of a womanizer but you didn’t think he would seem this touch starved. The last person you had slept with had been your dear friend, Namjoon, and when you realized feelings were beg bring to get involved you were to end the rendezvous that had transpired between you two in an effort to save the friendship and his feelings. You couldn’t explain why you could never see him as more than a friend—and you couldn’t explain why it was so easy to view Taehyung as something more. Your mind had been drawn to him before your body and yet it all felt the same.

You began to crawl away from him and in an effort to keep this going, he went after you with another kiss before your hand touched his chest to keep him in place. It got to the point where Taehyung wasn’t sure if it was the cashmere brown sweater he wore that made his body heat up, or if it was being too close to the fireplace but he felt himself begin to break into a sweat.

He stretched his legs out before him when he got the hint of what you wanted to do watching you shimmy down until you were nearly eye level with his pants and the evident bulge becoming more prominent with each passing second. Taehyung was not ashamed of how quickly you seemed to get to him and his body’s reaction to you. Sex was a normal thing, it was poetic and passionate if done with the right person and he hasn’t done it in a while—a long while. It was completely normal for him to release a light gasp when your hand grazed his inner thigh just inching toward his growing erection.

The two of you made eye contact once more, his lip caught between his teeth and his eyelids low in a lustful gaze that matched your own. There was a strong attraction toward each other — infatuation if you will — and you can’t say there’s romantic feelings between you but there’s no denying that there has been the underlying sexual tension that rose from a clear understanding of each other’s devotion to your work. It turns you on to know he seems to connect with your ideals.

You didn’t even realize Taehyung had moved a hand behind you until he was pulling on the back of your head to drag you back into a needy kiss. Your hands had already gone toward his slacks and you had been unzipping the front as the two of you made out once more. Taehyung’s hand fell back to the ground with a groan as you yanked at his underwear making him lift his hips enough for them to come down with his pants. A small hissing sound left his lips as his hard dick finally made its appearance, springing free of its right confines, hard enough to already angle toward his navel.

Taehyung was not ashamed by the way his stomach caved in with a deep breath at the first feel of your hand wrapping around his tip spreading the beads of precum that had already dribbled out the slit. His tongue was in your mouth, sliding against yours with you swallowing each groan he let out when you began to stroke his length slowly from base to tip. Like earlier, when you tried pulling away from the kiss to catch your breath, he was following after you to stop you from breaking apart from him.

A thin line of drool connected your mouth to his as you finally pulled back, biting down on your lip. He watched you look down at his exposed member, leaning down until you were face to face with it. His long fingers curled around your hair, slowly pushing your head down just a middle until he felt the first tender lick of your tongue along his tip. Taehyung’s entire body reacted to the way you tentatively licked his head teasingly making a small shudder travel right through him.

You have to say, Taehyung has one of the prettiest dicks you’ve ever seen and you just couldn’t help but want to savor it. It was just so pretty and you found yourself wanting to play with it some more. Your hand held onto him at his base as you ran your tongue down the side of his length lathering it in drool to aid your closed fist.

His brows scrunched together as he attempted to watch what you were doing. He could feel your hand jerking him off as you teasingly kissed up his side and tip, tongue swirling around his slit that leaked precum. He just couldn’t see you over the bulk of his sweater.

With an annoyed huffed, he released your hair to pull at his sweater with one arm as he brought it up toward his chest and tucked it under his jaw. Just as he had it fixed, a low and deep sound vibrating in his chest feeling your lips finally surround his tip, sucking gently before relaxing and taking more of him inside. You made yourself relax so you could loosen your jaw enough to accommodate his length as you began to suck him off, tongue licking along the bottom side everytime you bobbed your head up and down.

You had a firm hand on his upper thigh as the other was at his base against his pelvic bone to hold his hips down and let your mouth do all the work. His sweater slipped from under his chin making him groan as he threw his head back, “So good.”

He kept his gaze on the ceiling taking in the feel of your warm and tight mouth taking his cock so deeply. You looked up at his stomach trying to see his face but with the way his head was tilted back, you just couldn’t. All you could see was his chest rise and lower with each breathy sigh he let out, ducking his cock deeper down your throat.

Unable to help yourself, you moved your hand to his navel, feeling his breathing better and he needed to see what you looked like with his dick in your mouth.

He held the end of his sweater between his teeth as he stared down the expanse of his torso to where you laid between his legs swallowing around his cock with a dark look in your eyes that had him muffling a moan.

His hips bucked helplessly into you making you swallow more and more of his length till you couldn’t breathe properly anymore and needed to get off. The hand you still had on his dick began to stroke him, wrist flicking on each upward stroke to make your palm run along his slit while you caught your breath. You watched him in complete awe, he was so hard and his balls tightened against that you couldn’t help but lick between them.

"Fuck," the sweater made it hard to hear him as hw sank his teeth into it feeling it begin to moisten annoyingly so bur he was not going to miss the sight of you kissing below his cock to his balls.

When you finally decided to take him back in your mouth there was no slow build up, it was quick and sudden as you took him down your throat to the point where you gagged around him. The way he bit into the sweater looked like a restraint and he looked so pretty with the fire reflecting off his tan, bare chest and his blonde hair was just a knotted mess from how often he shook it.

“Y/n, you feel so good,” You were never much of a talker during sex, especially if it wasn’t genuine and just superficial dirty talk but he sounded so good moaning your name even if you couldn’t hear him properly.

There wasn’t much warning aside from the incessant moaning that fell from his lips and was swallowed in cashmere for you to know he was close. His hips bucked messily into your mouth, cock twitching with the need to just let go and when you met your mouth with your fist jerking off the rest of him… he just couldn’t take anymore.

Taehyung’s head fell back with a dry moan as the urge to cum got the best of him and he let go in your mouth. You didn’t seem to mind either, once the surprise of the suddenness had worn off, you didn’t hesitate but to try and swallow as much of the thick semen as you could, not at all bothered by the taste of it. Taehyung had to let his sweater go to breathe heavily through his parted lips as he used his elbows to sit himself up in the blanket, trying to understand what had just happened.

“Mm,” you hummed, proud of yourself for making him cum down your throat and you sat up to look at him. Taehyung met your eyes with his feeling heavy with need as he licked his dry lips before forcing himself to sit up properly so he could drag you into a deep kiss. You released a light mewl in surprise, kissing him back eagerly with his hand below your ear on your neck guiding you to angle your head one way while he went the other.

There was not a single part of him that felt bothered at the taste of himself on your tongue, if anything it only made him want you more so he could repay you for treating him so well. Once you had gotten lost in your little makeout, it was easy for you to follow his lead as he moved over you to get you to lie down in his place. The only time he pulled away from you was to finally free himself from the confines of his stupid sweaters and kick off his pants the rest of the way. It didn’t take you long to get what he wanted and you hurried to remove your cardigan feeling the straps of your dress begin to slip off your shoulders. Taehyung dragged you to him, kissing along the exposed skin of your collarbone and shoulder, hands sliding down your back till they could inch the dress down and off of you, making you take it off through the bottom so he wouldn’t have to pull away again.

Your bra and underwear were made of a thin crème colored lace that looked pretty against your complexion and soft between his fingertips as he ran his hands over your covered breasts that had been taunting him all night.

A quiet gasp left your lips due to the way his lips kissed down the valley of your breaths, soft hair tickling your neck. Taehyung’s hands held onto your sides, sliding them up to the end of your bra, feeling you arch your back into his affections until he was able to move them under your to grab at the clasp. Once he was able to unhook it, he tugged it off your arms letting you throw it to the side and dragged him into another kiss when he cupped your bare tits in his warm hands, using his thumbs to rub over your hardening nipples.

“Taehyung,” you whined softly against him, eyes on the ceiling when he began to leave love bites along your neck, traveling his wet mouth lower and lower down your stomach.

“Hm,” he hummed in acknowledgement, making his way between your legs while his hands groped your chest loving the softness of your skin under his rough painter’s hands.

As Taehyung slipped further between your legs till his face was near your spread legs, he looked down. The lace underwear was transparent enough for him to see just a bit underneath and he could see a small shadow of slick over where your cunt should be. He tried to look up at you through his blonde fringe and you sat forward enough to brush it back, smiling as he pressed a teasing kiss against the hood of your clit over your underwear. You lied back down letting yourself relax feeling his fingers hook under the hem of your panties till he was tugging it off and move your thighs over his shoulders so he four fit snugly against you.

Taehyung didn’t waste time teasing you, he had already been so turned on that not even cumming down your throat was able to calm his raging hormones. He just wanted to have you as soon as he could, any way he could, and that meant with his tongue stiffening as he parted your folds around him before licking flatly toward your clit. A light moan left your lips as your clit immediately reacted to stimulation, a small gush of slick pushing out of your pussy with arousal. Taehyung was not inexperienced in the art of making someone cum undone on his to hue and that was becoming more and more evident with the way he made out with your cunt like it was your mouth.

“Oh my god,” you threw your head back, out of breath, as his tongue began to flick messily at your clit while hands slid further down your inner thighs until he was using his thumbs to pull your folds apart for him. You could feel your wetness begin to drip further down but he was quick to leave your clit and lap his tongue against your wet entrance where your arousal seemed to form a puddle at. With the way his thumbs kept you open, you felt everything.

Every now and then his thumb would teasingly push in just a little more than before, acting like he didn’t even notice he was doing it while he hungrily sucked on your clit, tugging it between his lips. His thumb was rubbing against your labia, pressing into it, teasing your entrance every now and then by pushing into it until he felt your legs begin to tremble around him. Unable to help himself, he got a big more rough, tonguing your clit with such effort that his head shook with eagerness, swallowing your slick and pressing his face into your cunt to taste all that you had to offer.

“Oh,” you breathed out shakily, hand sinking into his hair when he nosed at your clit, tongue joining his finger as he thrusted it into you, “I-I, oh god.”

“Mhm,” Taehyung nodded, urging you to let go of him and you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning. Your thighs tried shutting but his head didn’t let you and instead you pressed them against him making him groan with need, eyes nearly rolling as he doubled his efforts.

Your throat became dry as you planted heavily, hips bucking against his mouth until finally you felt the knot in your stomach come undone. His motions did not miss a beat in licking everything you had to offer as your orgasm came in a wave.

“S-so, good,” you breathed out tiredly feeling your pussy walls clenching around nothing and as much as you wanted to just be done, you needed him inside you. When he came up to kiss you, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him flush against you so his hard cock rutted against your wet pussy. The taste of each other on your tongues was what made it easy for you two to want to keep going without the thought of repercussions. His hand slid between your sweaty bodies to hold his cock, lining it up with your entrance, bumping into your clue as he refused to break away from the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as the two of you looked at each other with such need, such want that your lips didn’t spend too long apart from each other.

Your tongue met his just as his cock met the inside of your pussy, taking it slowly as he stroked himself with your slick to ease himself in better. His dick was rock hard, and your pussy was so fucking wet he couldn’t help but moan into your mouth as you took him in.

Taehyung has to hold onto you with a hand on your waist to keep you from sliding away from him too much as the blanket wrinkles on his wooden floor. He had his other tucked by the side of your head looking down at you lovingly as he finally began to thrust, “Tell me if it’s too much, love.”

“Mhm,” you said softly, legs falling apart even more to accommodate his as he dug his knees into the floor so he use his hips to fuck you better. A groan left his lips at the expert roll of your pelvis against his taking more and more of his length inside your tight walls.

“You make me feel so full,” you moaned gently into his ear as he dropped his head down against your neck to try and ignore the fact that your pussy around his dick without any protective layer between them felt so fucking good. You were already so close and he’s barely started. He fucked you slowly but firmly, getting himself used to being inside you and sucking on your neck, his hand left your hip to cup your breast once more and you gasped when he pinched your nipple.

“So tight,” Taehyung breathed out heavily with a single touch thrust that had your walls tightening around him, “So good for me.”

He did it again, and once again drew another moan out of you, repeating his thrusts more roughly than before until you were moaning out a string of his name.

Taehyung was well endowed and you never doubted that for even a second. He knew how to have sex, not just to fuck, but to have sex. It wasn’t just loud groans and rough thrusts. He was sensual, he kissed your neck, whispered sweet words of praise in your ear, touch your body as he fucked you almost passionately—unlike the usual guys you hook up with.

“It’s like you were made for me,” Taehyung groaned, brows scrunched together in concentration as he pulled back to sit and swing your right leg over him to press against your left until you were nearly lying on your side. He laid down next to you, curving his body against yours and lifting your leg back and held it up with his knee as he fucked you from the side. His lips were against your ear, whispering, “Just for me, like my own creation.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, “Just for you, please Taehyung, I’m so close.”

You looked straight out of a vintage erotica film. His apartment was warm due to the fireplace and comforting because of the classical music playing. The moon looked over you as you had sex, nearly love making, lying on your sides with his body cuddled into yours, fucking you with his cock while groping your breasts in his hands. You had to angle your head back and then your neck to kiss him and he swallowed your mouth with his, thrusts getting tougher as he curled around you, “Me too, love, all for you.”

“So paint me,” you moaned, fucking back against him.

For a moment he wondered if you meant on a canvas, or with his cock in your pussy, but he realized he would gladly do both if you let him. Your hand slid back to guide his hips into yours, “Cum, Taehyung, inside me, please.”

“Oh god,” a low growl left his lips as he dug his face into your hair, “Fuck, Y/n, d-don’t tempt me.”

“Do it,” your hand came up to his hair now, dragging his head toward yours until your lips met in a messy kiss, “I’m going to cum, Tae, please.”

It wasn’t a good idea. You were on the pill but he didn’t know that, all he knew was that he wasn’t wearing a condom and he wanted to fill you with so much cum that he painted you white.

“Mhm,” he moaned when you tugged on his bottom lip between your teeth and his hand pinched your hips, “Cum, Y/n, please—oh fuck.”

The only thing that came from you two was the sound of skin slapping as the urge to cum overtook you both and you were fucking like rabbits in heat. Nothing but animalistic grunts left him as he finally felt the flood of release you let go around with him with a whine of his name and before he knew it, he was cumming.

You immediately felt full with his release as it joined yours, cock pulsing inside you as he waited a moment to reel his emotions back in, sweaty forehead pressed against yours, “So good.” He hugged you closely, breathing heavily into your neck, softly kissing your skin affectionately.

It took you both some time to regain awareness of what had just happened and you lied on the fur blanket he had tossed on the floor. The fire sizzled behind you and some classical song [you were ashamed to admit you didn’t know] was playing. Taehyung seemed to be more in control of himself now and reached up to his small table in search of his pack. Once he had a cigarette between his lips, he lay back down next to you to catch his breath, pressing it to yours next.

There was a sort of glow to your skin, your eyes shined with the night sky reflecting through the windows. Light came from the fire not far behind and a small dim lamp in the corner yet the moon was still casted over you two.

His eyes traced your features once more and before he knew it, he was saying something unexpected, “She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.”

Despite the way your heart seemed to stop, your brows furrowed, “What?”

Taehyung took another drag of his cigarette, “Who wrote that? ‘She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen’ I read it somewhere… ‘With stars in her eyes’.”

Your eyes seemed to widen as you thought it over for a second. A sense of realization flooded you but even knowing you might be right, you still shyly asked, “Virgina Woolf?”

“Yes, I believe so, ‘She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, with stars in her eyes and veils in her hair.’ I read it years ago,” Taehyung stared out at the moon through the bay windows, “Anyways, it just came to mind, and reminded me of you.”

There was a cloud of smoke drifting into nothing like they were his words being absorbed all around you. After that a silence seemed to fill the room and it was so calming in fact that you found yourself lulled to sleep against his chest.

It wasn’t until hours later when you had woken to loud noises, did you realize that he had not had the luxury of peaceful post-sex sleep.

The first thing you had noticed in your haze of sleep was the sky still blue out and the fire still crackling behind you. The second was that you still slept on the floor and Taehyung was not beside you anymore. It took you some time to realize all the noise that had woken you up was coming from him and his quick brush strokes.

Taehyung had a pair of jeans on and a smock. He didn’t even bother with a shirt, just slipped the smock over his bare chest and he sat on the floor with a pallet full of paint in his hands as he did soft strokes on his canvas. He was so focused that he didn’t seem to mind his glasses which had slipped down to the tip of his nose, lips slightly parted in concentration and eyes bouncing around his painting.

You wondered what this meant for you. You didn’t know what time it was but the way he worked so diligently didn’t even make you want to stay, what if it would bother him? You don’t want to do that and he seems to have already forgotten you were there and what you had just done. With a small sigh you looked around for all of your things, finishing getting dressed and in search of your shoes and bag.

Taehyung’s strokes were fast and agile, he didn’t even have to think of how he was painting, he was just moving mindlessly and mixing all the right colors and blending in all the right places. You took a seat on the sofa trying to put your boots back on.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung asked but his eyes never left the canvas. You could barely hear him over the sound of the record player still playing and it took you a second to know he was even talking to you.

You looked up curiously, “Um… it’s late, I should probably go, I don’t want to disturb your work.”

You were very understanding actually. There are many times you’ve woken up in the middle of the night to write and you didn’t waste time on thinking of anything else while doing it so if Taehyung was the same about his painting then you didn’t want to bother him.

Taehyung pushed his glasses up with the tip of his brush as he finally looked at you, “You won’t disturb me. Stay.”

He watched as you brought your lower lip between your teeth in thought before saying, “Seriously Tae, I don’t mind leaving. You’re working, I understand.”

“But I mind,” Taehyung said in his deep voice that sounded even deeper this late with the fire in the fireplace still crackling and Beethoven’s String Quartet No. 14 playing in the background. You didn’t say anything for a moment and he ran a hand through his messy hair, a small paint streak coating a strand, “Won’t you stay, Y/n? I’ve been in a slump and right now it just hit me all at once and I think it’s because of you. Please, won’t you stay?”

“Can I watch?”

Taehyung did not hesitate to nod his head and motion for you to sit on the floor next to him so you moved quickly to do so.

By the end of the night you watched him paint until dawn with your head resting against his back adoringly. His brush strokes were hypnotizing and the way he captured the light perfectly had you in awe, especially when you realized it was a painting of you.

It inspired you the way he was so devoted to his work and it reminded you of yourself.

Your days carried on as usual after that night with Taehyung. The only differences being ones that involved him. For instance, he has called you a couple times —he’s completely against the act of texting. It’s never anything major, usually to ask how your day has been or to get coffee. There was no sign of an actual relationship but it was close to it.

Today you had your shared anatomy class and he sat next to you instead of behind you like he normally would.

You’re not very fond of the fact that he’s distracting you more than you would like him to but it’s something you can’t explain. Your pen scribbled away in your yellow page notebook with word after word just piecing together effortlessly. Taehyung was utterly fascinated by it all, sometimes you wouldn’t even look down but your pen seemed to never fully lift off the page. You filled page after page in the three hour class, eyes on the professor but nothing you wrote down had to do with what he was teaching.

Every now and then you would look over at him and your eyes would meet, he would raise a brow and you would give him a smile, before looking down to write.

“I don’t think you heard a single thing he said today,” Taehyung said once the two of you made your way out of the lecture hall side by side. From the way you stared off into space, lips moving every now and then as if mouthing silent words, he knew you weren’t listening. He doubts you meant to ignore him but clearly you seemed to be in your own world right now, just thinking about writing and writing and he gets it.

You weren’t thinking of anything else, and he knows this because he had to grab onto your waist and pull you back to keep you from walking right into the pouring rain just outside. You seemed to snap back into reality and looked around, “Did you say something?”

Taehyung was opening his umbrella for you, pulling you under it beside him, “I’ve written notes for you, you seemed a bit distracted to take them yourself today.”

Your eyes slowly widened in surprise as it finally dawned on you that you had spent the last three hours doing nothing but writing about him. You came to a sudden stop and he waited there beside you with the rain pounding on his umbrella. With a small sigh, he let go of you to rummage through his bag with his free hand and took out his notebook, “I wrote two of everything.”

“Taehyung,” you said, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he said with a shrug, “But you were so lost in your writing I didn’t want anything disturbing you. I had no problem with it, I’m a fast writer and a good listener.”

“Thank you,” you finally began to walk again now that you couldn’t bear the cold standing in one place, “I am bad at focusing on anything else when I write.”

“I understand,” he had to speak up so you could hear him over the rain, “And if you do not think I would be a bother, maybe you’ll let me watch you write more?”

“You’ll get bored,” you said as the two of you walked toward his car, a vintage Chevrolet Corvette that belonged to his grandfather.

“Watching you?” He asked, holding the door open for you, “Never.”

Your apartment was how he pictured it—books and papers scattered everywhere. You were still much neater than him but not by much, clearly the two of you focused too much on your craft that it’s completely taken over everything.

Your place was small yet spacious and well furnished with vintage chairs and mahogany bookshelves. There was a slight clutter of books upon books and dead plants that didn’t get enough sun with the curtains closed. It was warm and had your lovely scent. There was a stack of papers on a desk next to a laptop and an expensive looking typewriter.

There wasn’t much of a conversation going on between you, the last time you said something to him was when you asked him if he needed a drink. Your back was to him and he spent about an hour or so sitting alone on the daybed as he drew in his sketchbook.

After some time when you finally decided to join him, you were exhausted and physically drained. You lied down with your head on his lap looking up at him when his hand began to caress your cheek. “Taehyung.”

“Yes, my love?” He asked with his gaze meeting yours. The name just slipped and he didn’t care to take it back, only watched you curiously still waiting to hear what you would say. You blinked once, “I think I’m beginning to understand better.”

You had been writing nonstop for a long time but for the first time it felt like you finally understood your work.

There was no way to explain it but these interactions with Taehyung—your living reverie—have opened your eyes to his character and the way you wanted to write him in the first place. He was everything you had been searching for.

He leaned back, startled by the sudden way you sat up, hand around his looking at him, “You.”

“Me?” Taehyung asked with his hands on your waist, shifting you more on his lap, “You understand me?”

All it took was one nod of your head for him to be pulling you into a kiss meeting you halfway. He had a hand on your chin, angling your head opposite of his letting the kiss deepen, soon he was tracing the curve of your neck with his jaw. Every ounce of lust and greed poured out in his fingers when he touched you.

It didn’t take Jungkook long to realize something about his friend seemed different. He was used to Taehyung isolating himself when he had a wave of creativity. There would be days on end where Jungkook would call only for every call to be ignored. He would even write his friend letters but he never answered him. When he was back to normal, Taehyung would look tired like he hadn't eaten or slept in days.

Right now, Jungkook sees Taehyung but he doesn’t think Taehyung sees him. Despite sitting across from him, he wouldn’t look his way. Instead he was staring out the large windows that overlooked the courtyard

“Have you eaten?” Jungkook asked, looking up from his sketchbook. The two had been on the second floor of the library this evening studying classical art techniques. Jungkook had gotten bored and began to sketch up an idea for another sculpture while Taehyung drew someone he couldn’t recognize. His friend didn’t even so much as flinch and give any sign that he was listening.

A small scoff left his lips, “Taehyung.” With an annoyed huff, he reached for his sketchbook and watched with a confused expression, “Who is this?”

It was quite detailed despite how little time he had to draw this and Jungkook was in awe. For a second he wondered if this was original work from Taehyung, all created from his mind but as he followed Taehyung’s gaze out the window, he realized it wasn’t.

It was you.

You sat on a wooden bench facing the swan fountain and there was a book in your hands. Jungkook couldn’t make out the book but seemed to have all your attention because you stopped every now and then to highlight something then jot it down in a notebook. There were powder blue headphones on your head and you were in a red lace long sleeve top with roses embroidered on and under was a white shirt. The black skirt you wore reached below your knees with a slit on the side that exposed your boots and over it all, you had on a black coat. He’ll admit, you did look rather captivating against the dead green of the lawn and trees paired with the foggy sky from days on end of rain.

Taehyung seemed to have found his newest muse and it was all he could think about.

“Are you still interested in her?” Jungkook finally asked, catching the way a small smile seemed to fall on Taehyung’s face—something he rarely got to see despite how easily he gave them to you. Jungkook did recognize you in the drawing better once he got a good look at you. He had almost forgotten seeing you weeks ago when he was with Taehyung, but he had certainly forgotten his friend’s knowledge and curiosity of you.

“Only a little,” Taehyung said, ignoring the way Jungkook looked at him with disbelief. He was used to his friend having a sudden infatuation with a certain person but they were short lived and always ended with the poor girl crying about how cold he was—Jungkook knows because he was always there to pick up their broken pieces with a night in his bed [Taehyung never cared].

“She’s hot,” Jungkook said, half teasingly to read how his friend would feel. Taehyung merely gave him a side glance in acknowledgment but the smile he had for you had tightened as he looked back outside.

“It’s that guy again,” Jungkook pointed out as they both watched outside, “What’s his name?”

Kim Namjoon.

Taehyung was used to seeing him around throughout the years but he never had a need to pay attention to him before. Like most of those who he sees in passing they never become more than that—just a passing blur that he doesn’t care to know a single thing about. Namjoon used to be one of the ones he ignored until he heard you mention him once or twice.

“Who knows,” Taehyung said, shifting his gaze down to his sketch pad avoiding the sight of Namjoon and you now standing like you had somewhere to go.

Jungkook, the ever curious and procrastinating, kept watching you just out of sheer boredom. The library had gone dark aside from the few kerosene lamps scattered across tables but it was already getting hard to see his sketches properly so now he’s just waiting for Taehyung to finish.

Suddenly, all too suddenly that it made him jump in his seat, Taehyung was standing, shoving his things in his bag loud enough to create an echo in the cold library. Jungkook looked up at him, pencil laying limp in his hand now, “Are we done?”

Taehyung pushed his chair into the wooden table, not bothering to look back at his friend as he stormed off, “Yes.”

Not long after he watched his friend make his abrupt leave from the library… he saw him now approaching you and Namjoon.

You were blissfully unaware that you had been watching through the windows of a library as much as you were unaware of Taehyung coming up behind you as Namjoon talked. “I was thinking maybe we could go catch that new movie that just came out.”

“Oh, I was going to do some writing—You won’t believe it Joonie,” your tone changed so suddenly as you grabbed him by the arm, jerking him toward you excitedly carrying on like he hadn’t said anything, “It’s like I can’t stop writing, you wouldn’t believe how easily the words are flowing like… I don’t know, I’ve never felt this way before, Joonie.”

“That’s good, Y/n but,” Namjoon’s words slowed down as he looked behind you at the looming figure standing a few feet away. He’s never spoken a word to Kim Taehyung despite both being grad students, he only knows of him from what others have spoken and he’s very… cold. Since when did you and him begin to talk? Namjoon took your hands in his as he pulled you closer to have your attention knowing you still didn’t know who was behind you, “But it’s nice to get a break, you don’t want to overwork yourself.”

“You don’t get it, Namjoon,” you said his name instead of the affectionate nickname you’ve always called him, he couldn’t help but look at Taehyung who pretended like he wasn’t watching closely with a cigarette dangling between his fingers, “I can’t stop. I cannot stop. If I-I do, I don’t know.”

His gaze shifted behind you making you turn to look too and your eyes seemed to soften as you made eye contact with the dirty blonde you’ve been spending time with lately.

“Y/n,” Taehyung’s deep voice spoke as he stared at you two, “I thought you would be busy writing”

“I’m on my way to right now,” you said, taking a step toward him with your back to your friend, “Would you join me?”

A smile came to his face as he pushed his glasses up, “If I could paint you again.”

You stood still in thought. The first time he painted you was after you had sex for the first time when it felt warm, passionate and hungry. He never slept that night, he stayed up the entire time getting the right blends of pigment on your body as it lay on the flue blanket completely nude. You’re not sure if he knew what saying that would make you think but from the way his brow raised questioning made you think he did.

Namjoon felt his jaw clench, eyes glaring at Taehyung who didn’t even bat an eye in his direction. You looked back to Namjoon now who waited for you with a bated breath. You walked up to him making his heart face as you pressed your lips against his cheek with your softly brushing against his jaw. The kiss was tender on his face and when he looked down at you, you gave him an apologetic smile, “Will you call me?”

“Will you answer?” Namjoon asked but you weren’t beside him anymore. You were next to Taehyung who took your book bag off your shoulders and put it over his, a hand grazing your back as he talked to you but too far out of your friend’s ear shot.

“What did your friend want?” Taehyung asked.

“To see a movie but I have to finish what I’m writing before it slips my mind,” You said moving your hand to his bent arm walking alongside him, “I’ll have to catch up with him another day.”

He didn’t have anything to say to that but you could still feel his eyes on you. A part of you wanted to ignore his gaze because you find yourself at a loss for words any time he looks at you that way. It’s like he sees through you not at you and sometimes you don’t know which one is better.

There’s no denying that he likes the look of you, he finds you attractive and not just physically. You know that. You just can’t tell what he’s thinking that makes him look at you that way.

“Namjoon.”

He stood alone where you once had been beside him, just watching you leave with the art major he had no idea you were even involved with. Since when did you begin to talk to him and how did Namjoon never notice? Did you just decide that you would not be open with him anymore?

“Jimin,” Namjoon looked at his friend, a bit stunned, “Hey.”

The ballerina watched after you alongside him now as he asked, “Y/n is leaving with Taehyung?”

“Are they together?” Namjoon asked suddenly, “Did you know?”

Jimin shook his head no, “Not exactly, I mean, Y/n never hid the fact that she had a thing for Taehyung, I’m just surprised to see them leave together. Y/n never told me they began to talk.”

Namjoon bit his lip nervously, “You don’t think they’ll date or anything, do you? This just seems sudden.”

He looked to his friend for some comfort but all Jimin did was shrug his shoulders and say, “I don’t know, you know Y/n doesn’t really date and neither does he, they’re always too focused on writing or painting to think about anything else. Who knows, they might just work out because of how similar they are.”

“Yeah but…” Namjoon was trying to find words to say but nothing came to mind. Maybe he was just being bitter… he’s been your friend for years. He’s always been there for you anytime you needed him without question. You were attracted to him enough to sleep with him but was that all it was ever going to be? You won’t see him as more than just a friend but then Kim Taehyung comes along and suddenly you have no problem walking away from Namjoon to go with him?

Jimin looked at his friend apologetically, he sympathized with him. He’s known you for longer than Namjoon has and he’s been through this exact same thing before too. There was a time when he thought you and him were the closest until Namjoon came along and suddenly you spent all your time with him instead. Now Namjoon is experiencing what Jimin did but this time because of Taehyung and he feels bad for that.

“Look, I’m going to be honest,” Jimin tried to work out what he was going to say so it didn’t come off badly, “I think, Y/n loves the idea of Taehyung on paper… how she can write or create him like she’s done with you and I in the past. I think maybe it’s nothing past something superficial but at the same time…”

“At the same time,” Jimin repeated himself with a bated breath, “I see a lot of similarities between them especially when it comes to putting their work first and maybe that’s something they seem to understand about each other that we don’t.”

Namjoon didn’t get it.

So was it not that you two had feelings for each other?

Was it not that you might love each other?

Was it just that you two understood each other?

He doesn’t get it. Now, Namjoon might not understand your obsession with perfecting every aspect of your writing… but that didn’t mean he didn’t love you. He loved you a lot—more than he assumes Taehyung could love you.

It’s not like it’s a secret, Namjoon has always been open about the way he felt about you so why did you choose someone else? All because he couldn’t understand you the way Taehyung might? Is it because he can’t just look at you and know what you need the way Taehyung can?

Is it because he doesn’t spend hours missing sleep or eating just so he could obsess over his work too?

How could Taehyung possibly understand you more than he does?

::.

okokok this was kinda long but I’m sorry, blonde Taehyung as an art major was doing it for me 🫶this was a romance but also not necessarily bc the focus isn’t entirely on their relationship 🤒neither one of them are supposed to be super likable so if you hate them and the way oc did Joon and Jimin dirty i get it 🫡but they just genuinely do not think about anything but their craft.

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