#i love the giselle dress

[redxiii]

[fablivious1]

Broppy enchanted au, I have no idea if anyone has done this before but regardless I will make my own version

[lesbianfakir]

I desperately need more princess tutu official art where the characters are dressed up in different little ballet outfits I think they’re so charming

[robertphilip]

do you have a favorite Giselle outfit across both movies?

I sure do !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this dress is Everything to Me, I love it So much. and my second favorite is technically Robert's outfit but

I just really love that he lets her borrow his pajamas, it's so cute 🤧 Also, special shoutout to this dress, which we only see for a few seconds, but I think it's Very Cute

For the second movie, I can't really say I love any of her dresses. I think the only ones I somewhat vibe with (aside from her peacock dress) are these

but even then I'm not. crazy about them (the middle is probably my fave, if I had to pick). they're certainly her best looks from the sequel, though, at least to me. something about her other dresses just. idk they didn't feel quite right to me, but ya know what Amy Adams movie does feel very Gisellecore in terms of costuming? The Muppets

particularly the blue one and the pink one with the flowers,,, god these fits scream Giselle.

but anywho !! the dress she made from Morgan's sheets is my absolute fave overall, I think it's the cutest/prettiest and the most fun! I love that her shoulders are out, and I love the frills (?) around the top a lot :3

[shwarmii]

i never realized Viktor was missing from Disenchanted Fashions before (or at least tumblr isnt showing him) and i am having so much fun with that bit of freedom towards his wardrobe jfc

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ HOW DO YOU TURN THIS THING OFF? — LN4

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

summary: fans love when you make appearances in landos streams. it’s usually because he doesn’t know where something is, and the internet goes crazy over their favorite certified himbo. on one stream, you get a taste of your own medicine when lando tasks you with turning the live feed off, and fans get a little more of an insight into your relationship

genre: established relationship, humour

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just tweeted

ੈ✩‧₊˚ user2 just made a thread

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

liked by yourusername and 406,409 others

landonorris dinner date then stream, be there or be square, 6pm

view all comments

maxfewtrell did she have to show you how to use a knife and fork too?

yourusername i definitely had to show him how to fill my wine glass up when it was empty

user PUT Y/N ON THE STREAM WE WANT MORE Y/N

user if he comes on in a dress shirt i’m Dead

user oh they’ve all definitely seen the thread😭😭

ੈ✩‧₊˚ user just posted a thread

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

liked by landonorris and 108,654 others

yourusername this time it was my own stupidity that let the secret out. and i didn’t have to show him how to propose! he did it all on his own accord!

view all comments

user YOU’RE SUCH AN ICON

user only lando and y/n could accidentally expose their own engagement

user THE CAPTION😭😭 she really has kept him alive all these years huh

user ‘i wouldn’t want to think of a life without you anyway’ now if that’s not meant to be than what is

landonorris i love you

landonorris really quick whilst we’re at it,,, where tf do we keep the spare phone chargers?

yourusername oh.. oh baby. i’ll be home in 5

————

a/n: hELLO! so the snippet from this got over 200 notes and i couldn’t wait to post it because you all loved it so much!

for the rest of my wips, check out the wip game linked in my pinned post!!

all of your feedback over the last few days has made me so happy sjdjsjs, any thoughts please feel free to send i am having so much fun creating for you guys. i seriously appreciate every like comment ask and follow!! anon emojis are now listed in my bio so if you wanna chat a bunch, have a look at what’s free !

- giselle

taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35 @treehouse-house @iloveyou3000morgan

[elryuse]

My Toxic Exes

Genre : Smut

Idol : Yeji, Giselle & Julie

Tags : Ex Gf Yeji, Giselle & Julie, Dirty Talking, Secret Sex, Cheating, Lots of Kissing, Sweaty Sex,

Word : 8,838 Word

Love isn’t supposed to hurt like this.

That’s what you tell yourself as you stare at the ceiling, your body sinking into the mattress, numb. Your room is dark except for the faint glow of your phone screen, the only source of light illuminating the night.

Her last message still lingers on the screen.

"You’re overthinking."

You squeeze your eyes shut, but it doesn’t help. The images are still there. Her texts to someone else. The photo of them together. The way she denied it so easily, as if your feelings meant nothing.

Yeji.

The first girl you ever truly loved. The first girl who shattered you.

The first time you see her, she’s standing on a stage, dressed in a sharp black blazer and a white button-up shirt, her long, sleek hair tucked neatly behind her ears. She’s in the middle of a debate, her voice unwavering, her gaze sharp.

She’s stunning—not just in appearance, but in presence. She owns the room without even trying, commanding respect with every word she speaks.

You’re not supposed to be here. You only came because your friend begged you to watch their team compete, but now, all you can focus on is her.

When the debate ends, she wins—of course she does. You expect her to be cold and distant, but when she walks past you, she’s laughing with her teammates, her confidence melting into something warm and inviting.

And then, she notices you.

"Hey," she says, stopping in front of you. "Enjoy the debate?"

You blink. For a second, you think she’s talking to someone else. But no—her sharp brown eyes are locked onto yours, waiting.

"Uh, yeah," you stammer, caught off guard. "You were… really good."

She smirks, tilting her head slightly. "Thanks. I try."

And just like that, she walks away, leaving you standing there, completely entranced.

You don’t know it yet, but this is the beginning of something that will change you forever.

Getting to know Yeji is like getting close to a wildfire—intoxicating, thrilling, and impossible to control.

She’s not like anyone you’ve ever met before. She’s driven, passionate, and fiercely independent. She doesn’t need anyone, but somehow, she chooses you.

You start seeing her more often. First, it’s casual—study sessions, late-night talks about life and ambitions. Then, it becomes something more.

One night, after a long day of studying, you walk her home. It’s late, the streets nearly empty, and the cool night air makes your breath visible.

"You’re different," she says suddenly, breaking the silence.

You glance at her. "Different how?"

She shrugs, kicking a small pebble on the sidewalk. "Most guys I meet try too hard to impress me. But you… you’re just yourself."

Your heart skips a beat.

"Is that a good thing?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

She stops walking and turns to face you, her eyes searching yours. Then, without warning, she steps closer, closing the distance between you.

"It is," she murmurs.

And before you can process what’s happening, she kisses you.

It’s soft, hesitant at first, but then it deepens, her fingers curling into your hoodie as if she doesn’t want to let go.

When she finally pulls away, she grins.

"Let’s do this," she says. "Let’s see where this goes."

And just like that, you’re hers.

Being with Yeji is exhilarating. She challenges you, pushes you to be better, makes you feel like you can conquer anything.

She takes you to places you’ve never been, introduces you to people who admire her just as much as you do. She’s everything you never knew you needed—strong, fearless, and completely captivating.

But then, the cracks start to show.

It begins with small things. She gets easily frustrated when you don’t immediately understand something. She makes little comments about how you could "try harder" or "be more ambitious."

"You should be more confident," she tells you one day when you hesitate to speak in a group setting. "I can’t keep carrying the conversation for you."

It stings, but you brush it off. Maybe she just wants you to improve. Maybe she’s right.

Then, she starts getting distant.

She cancels plans more often, says she’s busy, but you start noticing the way she’s always on her phone, texting someone. You tell yourself it’s nothing. She’s popular, she has a lot of friends.

But then, one night, everything changes.

You don’t mean to see it. You’re just grabbing her phone to check the time while she’s in the shower. But the moment you pick it up, a notification pops up.

A message from someone you don’t recognize.

"Last night was amazing. Can’t wait to see you again."

Your chest tightens.

You open the conversation. There are pictures—her with another guy, laughing, leaning into him the way she used to lean into you. The texts are flirty, intimate.

Your hands shake as you set the phone back down. Your mind races, trying to make sense of what you just saw.

When she comes out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around her head, she notices your expression immediately.

"What’s wrong?" she asks.

You swallow hard. "Who is he?"

She freezes for a split second—just a moment, but it’s enough.

"Who?" she asks, too casually.

"You know who," you say, voice barely above a whisper. "I saw the messages, Yeji."

Silence.

Then, she exhales, rolling her eyes. "You’re overthinking."

Your heart cracks.

"Yeji, I saw the photos," you say, your voice trembling. "Just… tell me the truth."

She stares at you, and for the first time, you see something cold in her eyes—something detached.

"There’s nothing to tell," she says simply.

No apology. No remorse. Just a flat-out denial, as if you’re the one being unreasonable.

That’s when you realize—you could argue, you could beg for the truth, but it wouldn’t matter. She’s already decided to pretend like nothing happened.

And suddenly, you feel exhausted.

You thought love was supposed to be about trust, about believing in each other. But standing here, looking at her, you realize—this isn’t love. This is a game you’re never going to win.

So you do the only thing you can.

You leave.

You don’t cry that night. You just lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering where it all went wrong.

A part of you wants to believe she’ll call, that she’ll apologize, that she’ll tell you she made a mistake.

But deep down, you know she won’t.

Yeji never looks back.

And neither should you.

Moving on from Yeji isn’t easy.

Even after weeks pass, her absence lingers like a dull ache in your chest. You try distracting yourself—focusing on school, picking up new hobbies—but nothing fully silences the thoughts. The "what ifs" still creep in late at night, and the scars she left still sting when you least expect them.

But then, you meet Giselle.

And for the first time in a long while, you feel something different.

You don’t know much about her at first. You’ve seen her in passing, heard whispers of her name in hallways and classrooms. Giselle is popular—effortlessly so. She has that kind of energy that makes people gravitate toward her, a mix of confidence and playfulness that keeps her at the center of every social circle.

She’s the kind of girl you never thought you’d talk to, let alone date.

But fate has other plans.

It starts at a party—a rare event for you. Your friends practically drag you there, insisting you need to "get out more" after the whole Yeji situation. You don’t expect much. Just a few hours of music, drinks, and pretending to have fun.

But then, you see her.

Giselle is surrounded by people, laughing at something someone said, her presence magnetic. She’s wearing a sleek black dress, her long hair cascading over her shoulders. She looks… untouchable, like she exists in a different world.

And yet, somehow, her eyes find yours.

For a split second, your breath catches. You expect her to look away, to move on.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she smirks. Then, before you can react, she makes her way through the crowd and stops right in front of you.

"You look bored," she says, tilting her head. "Not a fan of parties?"

You chuckle, rubbing the back of your neck. "Not really my scene."

She raises an eyebrow. "Then why are you here?"

"My friends dragged me."

Her lips curve into a smile. "Mine too."

And just like that, a conversation starts.

It’s easy with her. She’s witty, teasing, but not in a mean way. She asks questions that catch you off guard, making you laugh, making you forget—if only for a moment—about everything else.

By the end of the night, you’re surprised to find yourself enjoying her company. And when she casually hands you her phone, telling you to put your number in, You don’t hesitate.

For the first time in months, something stirs in your chest.

Maybe, just maybe, this could be different.

Dating Giselle is like stepping into a dream.

Everything moves fast. One moment, you’re just getting to know her, and the next, you’re in the whirlwind of her world—late-night drives, spontaneous trips to the beach, secret rendezvous between classes.

She makes you feel special in a way you never have before.

"You’re cute when you’re flustered," she says one evening, tapping your nose playfully.

You groan. "I’m not flustered."

She laughs, leaning closer. "You totally are."

She always knows how to make you smile, how to pull you out of your shell. And for a while, you think this might actually work.

But then, the cracks begin to show.

It starts with little things.

She gets irritated when you don’t answer her texts fast enough, even if you’re busy.

"Why are you ignoring me?" she asks one day, her tone light but her eyes sharp.

"I’m not," you reply, confused. "I was in class."

She pouts. "You could’ve at least texted me back during the break."

You brush it off, thinking she just likes attention. But then, it escalates.

She starts getting jealous—of your friends, of your time, of anything that isn’t her.

"Do you really have to hang out with them?" she asks one evening when you mention plans with an old friend.

"They’re my friends, Giselle."

She crosses her arms. "I just don’t get why you need to spend time with them when you have me."

It doesn’t seem like a big deal at first. Maybe she just really likes you, you tell yourself. Maybe she just wants to feel secure.

But then, one night, everything changes.

It happens after a small argument.

You don’t even remember how it starts—something about you not paying enough attention to her, about her feeling like you don’t care.

"You don’t put in enough effort," she snaps.

You blink. "Giselle, I do my best—"

"It’s not enough!" she interrupts, her voice rising.

You’re taken aback. "What do you want from me?"

She glares at you, her jaw clenched. Then, suddenly, she throws your phone across the room.

It crashes against the wall.

You freeze.

For a long moment, there’s only silence. Then, her expression shifts. The anger melts away, replaced by something else—something almost… remorseful.

"I…" She exhales sharply, running a hand through her hair. "I didn’t mean to do that."

But she did.

And you both know it.

Still, she steps forward, reaching for your hands. "I’m sorry," she murmurs. "I just… I love you so much, and I hate feeling like I’m not enough for you."

Her voice is soft, almost pleading. And for a second, your heart wavers.

But then you look at the broken phone on the floor.

And suddenly, you realize—you’ve been here before.

This isn’t love. This is control.

And you can’t do this again.

Leaving Giselle is harder than leaving Yeji.

Because she doesn’t let you go easily.

She texts, she calls, she shows up unannounced. She cries, begs, says she’ll change.

But you know better now.

And so, no matter how much it hurts, you walk away.

You think you’re done with love.

You think you’ll never let yourself fall again.

But then, you meet Julie.

And this time, you believe—just for a moment—that things will be different.

You tell yourself you won’t fall for anyone again.

Not after Yeji’s betrayal. Not after Giselle’s suffocating love. You’re tired of love—tired of opening your heart just to watch it be torn apart.

But then, Julie enters your life.

And for the first time in a long while, you start to believe again.

It happens unexpectedly, on a cold evening in a quiet café.

You’re sitting alone, scrolling through your phone, when she approaches.

"Mind if I sit here?"

You glance up, surprised. Julie is beautiful in an effortless way—long, silky hair, sharp eyes that seem to read you instantly. There’s an air of elegance about her, from the way she carries herself to the designer coat draped over her shoulders.

You hesitate. The café isn’t full; there are plenty of empty tables.

But something in her gaze tells you she’s here for a reason.

"Sure," you say.

She sits across from you, her perfume light but intoxicating.

"I’ve seen you here before," she says casually, stirring her coffee. "You always sit by yourself."

You chuckle. "I like the quiet."

She tilts her head. "Or maybe you just don’t like people?"

You blink, caught off guard. Most girls would be shy or polite, but Julie? She’s bold. Direct.

You smirk. "Maybe a little of both."

She laughs, and just like that, a conversation begins.

It’s easy with her. Too easy

She’s different from Yeji, from Giselle. She doesn’t play games, doesn’t test you. She listens. Really listens.

And for the first time in a long while, you don’t feel like you have to prove yourself.

With Julie, you can just be.

Dating Julie feels like a dream.

She’s rich—not just well-off, but the kind of wealthy that makes life effortless. Expensive dinners, surprise gifts, spontaneous weekend getaways—she showers you with things you never thought you’d have.

At first, it feels strange.

"I don’t need all this," you tell her one day when she buys you an expensive watch.

She just smiles, pressing it into your palm. "I know. That’s why I like spoiling you."

And you believe her.

Because Julie isn’t just rich—she’s caring. Understanding. She never gets jealous when you hang out with friends, never accuses you of not loving her enough.

She trusts you.

She makes you feel safe.

And after everything you’ve been through, that’s all you’ve ever wanted.

So, for the first time in forever, you let your guard down.

You let yourself love again.

And that’s when everything falls apart.

It starts with whispers.

Little things you hear in passing.

"Julie’s always hanging out with that guy."

"Did you see her at the bar last night? She was all over him."

You brush it off. Gossip means nothing. You trust her.

But then, the doubts creep in.

She cancels dates last minute.

She starts texting less, calling less.

And then, one night, you see it with your own eyes.

Julie, standing too close to another guy. Laughing. Letting him touch her waist. Acting like you don’t exist.

Your heart clenches, but you tell yourself to stay calm.

Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe there’s an explanation.

So you wait until you’re alone with her.

And you ask.

"Who was he?"

She raises an eyebrow, sipping her wine. "Who?"

"At the bar. The guy you were with."

She sighs, setting her glass down. "Just a friend."

"A friend who touches your waist?"

Her expression hardens. "Are you seriously jealous right now?"

You hesitate. "Julie, I just—"

"God, I can’t believe this," she mutters, standing up. "You’re just like every other guy. So insecure."

Your stomach twists. "I’m not—"

"Yes, you are." Her voice is sharp, cold. "I give you everything, and this is how you repay me? By accusing me?"

You feel like you’ve been punched.

"Julie," you whisper. "I just wanted the truth."

She scoffs, grabbing her coat. "The truth? Fine. Maybe I like the attention. Maybe I like feeling wanted. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you."

Her words hit harder than they should.

Because deep down, you know—love shouldn’t feel like this.

You take a shaky breath. "I can’t do this."

She stares at you. "What?"

"I can’t be with someone who makes me feel like I’m not enough."

For a moment, something flickers in her eyes. A flash of regret, maybe.

But it vanishes just as quickly.

She exhales, shaking her head. "Fine. Do whatever you want."

And just like that, she walks away.

No tears. No apologies.

Just… nothing.

Like you never meant anything at all.

You tell yourself you won’t cry.

But that night, as you lie in bed staring at the ceiling, the weight of everything crashes down on you.

Yeji. Giselle. Julie.

Three girls. Three heartbreaks.

You’ve given love everything you had. And every time, it’s been thrown back in your face.

So, you make a decision.

You’re done.

Done chasing love. Done trusting. Done believing in fairy tales.

From now on, you’ll be alone.

Because at least then, you won’t get hurt.

But then, you meet Yuna.

And suddenly, your heart isn’t so sure anymore.

You don’t believe in love anymore.

Not after Yeji, who shattered your trust.

Not after Giselle, who suffocated you with her possessiveness.

Not after Julie, who made you feel like you were nothing.

You’re tired. You’re exhausted. And most of all, you’re done.

You don’t chase love. You don’t wait for it.

Because you know, in the end, it always leaves you broken.

But then, you meet her.

And for the first time in a long while, something inside you stirs.

Something terrifying.

Something hopeful.

It happens on a rainy afternoon.

You’re in a bookstore, flipping through pages of a novel you don’t plan on buying. The rain outside taps against the windows, a soft rhythm that matches the quietness of the shop.

You like it here. It’s peaceful. A place where no one knows you.

Or so you think.

"You like that author?"

A soft voice interrupts your thoughts.

You glance up.

And that’s when you see her.

She stands a few feet away, holding a book against her chest. She’s dressed simply—sweater, jeans, sneakers—but there’s something effortlessly beautiful about her.

Her eyes, warm and curious, meet yours.

For a second, you forget how to breathe.

You clear your throat. "Uh… yeah. I guess."

She smiles. "You don’t sound so sure."

You chuckle, scratching the back of your neck. "I’ve never read their books before. Just browsing."

She nods, stepping closer. "It’s a good one. Kind of sad, though."

You raise an eyebrow. "You like sad books?"

She tilts her head. "I think sad stories are more honest."

You don’t know why, but that answer lingers in your mind.

She turns the book in her hands, then looks at you again.

"I’m Yuna, by the way."

You hesitate.

But then, for the first time in months, you say it.

You tell her your name.

And just like that, something begins.

Yuna is different.

She doesn’t demand your attention. She doesn’t try to change you.

She simply exists in your life, slowly weaving herself into the empty spaces you never realized were there.

You start seeing her more often—at the bookstore, at the café nearby, in the quiet corners of the world where you feel most at ease.

She never pushes. Never asks too many questions.

But she listens.

And somehow, that’s enough.

One evening, as you walk together under the glow of streetlights, she asks, "Have you ever been in love?"

You stiffen. The memories of Yeji, Giselle, Julie—all of them flood back at once.

You exhale. "I thought I was."

She doesn’t say anything right away. She just walks beside you, her presence steady, unshaken.

Then, after a moment, she murmurs, "It must’ve hurt a lot."

You stop in your tracks.

Because no one—not Yeji, not Giselle, not Julie—ever acknowledged your pain like that.

Your chest tightens. "Yeah," you admit quietly. "It did."

Yuna doesn’t pry. She doesn’t ask for details.

She simply reaches out, her fingers brushing against yours in the most delicate way.

You don’t pull away.

And maybe—just maybe—you start to wonder.

Could love be something else?

Could love, for once, not destroy you?

But love has never been kind to you.

And just when you think you’re ready to move on, the past comes knocking.

Because one day, you receive a message.

From Yeji.

From Giselle.

From Julie.

They miss you.

And suddenly, everything you’ve tried to bury comes rushing back.

Ghosts of the Past

You think you’ve finally moved on.

Yuna is here. She’s warm, kind, and unlike anyone you’ve ever been with.

She doesn’t lie to you like Yeji.

She doesn’t hurt you like Giselle.

She doesn’t betray you like Julie.

With Yuna, love feels different. Safer. Real.

But love has never been kind to you.

And the past refuses to stay buried.

It starts with a message.

"I miss you."

You stare at the screen, your heart tightening.

Yeji’s name glows on your phone, the same name that once made your chest ache with love.

Now, all it brings is pain.

You turn off your phone. You don’t respond.

But the past isn’t done with you yet.

Because the next day, Giselle calls.

You let it ring. You don’t pick up.

Then, Julie sends a message.

"Hey. Can we talk?"

You delete it without reading the rest.

But no matter how much you ignore them, they don’t stop.

The texts become more frequent.

The calls become more desperate.

And slowly, they start creeping back into your life.

At first, you think it’s just them trying to soothe their own regrets.

But then, they start interfering.

And that’s when everything starts to fall apart.

The first time it happens, you and Yuna are at a small café, sharing quiet laughter over coffee.

Then, your phone buzzes.

You glance down.

It’s Yeji.

Calling.

Again.

You let out a slow breath, ignoring it.

Yuna notices. "You okay?"

You force a smile. "Yeah. Just spam calls."

But your hands feel cold.

Because it’s not just one call.

It’s three.

One after another.

And the moment you step out of the café, Yeji’s voice fills the air.

"You’re ignoring me."

You freeze.

She’s here.

Standing across the street, arms crossed, staring at you like she has the right to be angry.

You don’t know what to say.

"You think you can just block me out?" she continues, stepping closer. "After everything we had?"

Yuna glances between you both, her brows furrowing. "Who is she?"

Yeji smirks, her eyes flickering toward Yuna. "So this is why you’ve been ignoring me."

Your stomach twists. "Yeji, don’t—"

"Did you tell her about us?" Yeji interrupts, her voice dripping with something dangerous. "Did you tell her how much you used to love me?"

You clench your jaw. "We’re done. You need to leave."

Yeji laughs—soft, bitter. "You say that, but I know you still think about me."

She takes another step forward, lowering her voice.

"You used to be mine," she whispers. "And you will be again."

Then, she turns and walks away.

Leaving you standing there, heart pounding.

Yuna touches your arm. "What was that about?"

You force yourself to breathe. "Nothing."

But it’s not nothing.

Because Yeji isn’t the only one who won’t let go.

And soon, things get worse.

It’s Giselle next.

She doesn’t just send messages.

She shows up.

At your work. At your apartment.

Always finding an excuse to see you, to talk to you.

And every time, she asks the same thing.

"Do you ever think about me?"

You want to say no.

You want to erase every painful memory of her.

But Giselle has always known how to push your buttons.

"You were my everything," she whispers one night, standing in front of your door. "I know I made mistakes. But you… you were different."

You grip the doorframe. "Giselle, go home."

She shakes her head, eyes glistening. "I don’t have a home without you."

You swallow hard.

And that’s when you realize—she doesn’t just want you back.

She wants to ruin you.

And the moment she realizes she can’t, she tries something worse.

She finds Yuna.

She talks to her.

She tells her things—half-truths, twisted stories.

And one day, Yuna asks, "Did she really hurt you that badly?"

Your stomach drops.

Because you know exactly where this is coming from.

You reach for her hand. "Yuna, don’t listen to them."

She bites her lip. "I trust you. But I don’t trust them."

And you know—Giselle won’t stop.

Because if she can’t have you, she’ll make sure no one else does.

But the worst is Julie.

Because Julie doesn’t just want to win.

She wants to make you suffer.

One night, she sends you a message.

"Come see me. Just once."

You don’t reply.

Then another text comes.

"I won’t stop until you do."

You sigh, running a hand through your hair.

Maybe if you go, she’ll stop. Maybe she’ll finally let go.

So, against your better judgment, you go.

You find her in a high-end bar, swirling a glass of wine in her hand.

She looks up, smiling like she’s already won.

"I knew you’d come," she murmurs.

You sit across from her, exhaling sharply. "What do you want?"

She leans forward, her perfume familiar and suffocating.

"Are you happy?" she asks.

You frown. "What?"

"With her," Julie says smoothly. "With Yuna."

You glare. "Yes."

She tilts her head. "That’s a shame."

Something about her tone makes your skin crawl.

Then, she smirks. "Because I don’t think she’ll be around for long."

A chill runs down your spine. "What did you do?"

Julie sips her wine. "Nothing. Yet."

You push your chair back, standing. "Stay away from her."

Julie just laughs. "You should know by now, baby. I don’t like losing."

You leave without another word.

But dread settles in your stomach.

Because you know this isn’t over.

Not even close.

And the worst part?

You don’t know if Yuna will stay by your side when the storm hits.

Trapped in the Past.

You’ve been trying to move on.

You tell yourself that Yuna is different. That she’s the one good thing in your life. That your past no longer has control over you.

But the past has other plans.

And today, it comes crashing back—harder than ever.

It’s just another day at work.

Your office is quiet, the usual hum of keyboards and murmured conversations filling the space. You’re buried in your work, trying to focus, when you hear it—

Gasps. Whispered voices. A sudden shift in the atmosphere.

You glance up, confused.

And then, you see them.

Yeji.

Giselle.

Julie.

Standing at the entrance of your office, looking like they walked straight out of a dream—or, in your case, a nightmare.

Your heart stops.

They shouldn’t be here. They can’t be here.

But they are.

And they look even more breathtaking than you remember.

Yeji stands tall, her confidence radiating through the room, a small smirk playing on her lips. She wears a fitted blazer over a sleek black dress, her hair pulled back in a way that makes her look both elegant and untouchable.

Giselle, on the other hand, is effortlessly stunning, dressed in a casual yet expensive-looking ensemble—like she just threw something on and still managed to turn heads. She’s scanning the room, her eyes sharp, predatory.

Julie, as expected, looks perfect. A designer outfit, flawless makeup, an aura of quiet dominance. She’s not here to plead. She’s here to claim.

The entire office is watching, mesmerized.

Because how often do three goddesses show up unannounced, asking for the same man?

And then it happens.

"Where’s Y/n?" Yeji asks, loud enough for everyone to hear.

You freeze.

Your coworkers look around, confused. Some exchange glances before one of them hesitantly points in your direction.

And just like that, the three of them turn to you.

And they grin.

Because Yuna isn’t here.

Because this is their chance.

Because they know—deep down, they still have power over you.

And they plan to use it.

Before you can react, they’re walking toward you.

Your heart pounds as they reach your desk, their presence overwhelming.

"Y/n," Yeji purrs, leaning against your desk like she belongs there. "You’ve been ignoring us."

Giselle tilts her head, feigning innocence. "That’s not very nice, you know. We just wanted to see you."

Julie sighs, a soft, disappointed sound. "You really thought we’d just let you go?"

You swallow hard. "You shouldn’t be here."

Yeji raises an eyebrow. "Oh? Why not?"

You glance around. Your coworkers are still watching, whispering amongst themselves.

You grit your teeth. "Because I don’t want to see you."

Giselle laughs. "Liar."

Julie smirks. "If that were true, why do you look so nervous?"

Because they know what they’re doing.

They know exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you uncomfortable.

And worst of all…

They’re winning.

Because a part of you—no matter how small—remembers.

Remembers Yeji’s strength. The way she used to make you feel safe, like nothing in the world could touch you.

Remembers Giselle’s charm. The way she made you feel special, like you were the only one who mattered.

Remembers Julie’s care. The way she spoiled you, made you feel like you were worth something.

And now, they’re standing in front of you, looking more beautiful than ever, acting like they still care.

And Yuna isn’t here.

Yeji leans in, her voice low. "Let’s go somewhere private."

Giselle rests a hand on your shoulder, her nails lightly scraping your skin. "Just for a little bit."

Julie exhales softly, her perfume intoxicating. "Come on, Y/n. Don’t make us beg."

Your hands tighten into fists.

Because this is exactly how it starts.

How you get pulled back in.

How you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, they’ve changed.

But you know better now.

You have to know better.

You step back. "No."

Yeji’s eyes darken. "Excuse me?"

You exhale sharply. "I said no."

Giselle blinks, her smile faltering. "You’re joking, right?"

Julie’s expression turns cold. "You’re really going to push us away like this?"

You nod. "I’ve moved on."

Yeji scoffs. "With that girl? Yuna?"

You clench your jaw. "Yes."

There’s a long pause.

And then, Giselle laughs.

A slow, mocking laugh.

"Oh, Y/n," she murmurs. "You really think she’s better than us?"

Julie tilts her head. "You think she can love you like we did?"

Yeji crosses her arms. "Do you really believe she’ll stay?"

Something in their words sends a chill down your spine.

Because you know what they’re implying.

Yuna doesn’t play games like they do.

Yuna isn’t manipulative.

Yuna isn’t them.

And that’s exactly why they want to destroy her.

Before you can respond, Yeji steps closer, her voice a whisper.

"If you’re not ours," she murmurs, "then you’re not hers either."

Your blood runs cold.

Because now, this isn’t just about you.

It’s about Yuna.

And you know—this war isn’t over.

It’s only just beginning.

The fluorescent lights of the office buzzed softly, a faint hum that matched the rhythm of my typing. My eyes flicked to the clock on the wall—5:47 PM. Just a little longer, and I could head home. Home, where Yuna would be waiting. The thought of her brought a small smile to my lips. Yuna, unlike the others, was different. She was kind, patient, and she listened. She didn’t play games, didn’t twist words, didn’t leave me second-guessing every interaction. She was… healing.

But that healing was fragile. Like a wound that had just begun to scab over, it could be ripped open with the slightest touch. And the last people I wanted touching it were them.

The soft ding of the elevator down the hall made my fingers pause mid-sentence. I glanced up, my heart skipping a beat as three familiar figures stepped out. Yeji, Giselle, and Julie.

Their heels clicked against the polished floor, a synchronized rhythm that felt like a drumroll before disaster. They were dressed to kill—Yeji in a form-fitting red blazer, Giselle in a sleek black dress, and Julie in a skirt that was far too short for the office setting. Each of them wore a smirk, their eyes locking onto me like predators circling prey.

“Well, well, look who’s still working late,” Yeji purred, her voice dripping with faux sweetness.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “What are you three doing here?”

“Can’t we visit an old friend?” Giselle chimed in, her lips curving into a sly smile. She leaned against my desk, her perfume—a mix of vanilla and something far too intoxicating—washing over me.

“Friend?” I muttered, my voice low. “Is that what we are now?”

Julie chuckled, the sound grating against my ears. “Come on, don’t be like that. We missed you.”

Missed me. The words hit like a punch to the gut. Not because they were true—I knew better than to believe that—but because they were a reminder of all the times I’d fallen for their lies. All the times I’d let them hurt me, let them twist me into something I barely recognized.

“You don’t get to just show up here,” I said, my voice firmer now. “Not after everything.”

Yeji tilted her head, her smirk never wavering. “Everything? Oh, sweetheart, you act like we ruined you. If anything, we made you stronger.”

“Stronger?” I echoed, my voice rising. “You manipulated me. Toyed with me. Made me feel like I was nothing. That’s not strength. That’s just… cruelty.”

Giselle clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “You always were so dramatic.”

“Seriously,” Julie added, her tone dripping with mockery. “We were just having fun. If you couldn’t handle it, that’s on you.”

My hands balled into fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. Fun. That’s what they called it. Playing with my emotions, stringing me along, making me feel like I was losing my mind. Fun.

“Get out,” I said through gritted teeth.

Yeji’s smirk widened, and she stepped closer, her heels clicking against the floor. “Make us.”

The air between us grew thick, heavy with tension. My chest tightened, my breath coming in shallow gasps. I could smell her perfume, a mix of roses and something darker, something that made my head spin.

“You’re not the same without us, you know,” Giselle murmured, her voice soft, almost… gentle. “You’re boring. Safe. Is that what she wants? Someone safe?”

Julie laughed, the sound sharp and cutting. “Please. He was never boring with us.”

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog that was settling over my thoughts. “You don’t get to do this. Not anymore.”

“Do what?” Yeji asked, her voice a low purr. “Remind you of what you’re missing?”

She was close now, so close I could feel the heat radiating off her body. Her hand reached up, her fingers brushing against my cheek. I flinched, but I didn’t pull away. Why didn’t I pull away?

“You remember, don’t you?” she whispered, her breath warm against my ear. “The way it felt when we were together.”

My heart raced, my mind a jumble of conflicting emotions. Yes, I remember. I remembered the highs, the moments of bliss that made everything else fade away. But I also remembered the lows, the crushing weight of their words, the way they tore me apart piece by piece.

“We could have that again,” Giselle said, her voice a sultry whisper. “All of us. Just like old times.”

Julie stepped forward, her hand resting on my chest. “You know you want it.”

I did. God, I did. But I also wanted to be free, to move on, to finally be happy. And yet… here they were, pulling me back into their orbit, their gravity impossible to resist.

“Just one more night,” Yeji murmured, her lips brushing against my neck. “One more chance to make it right.”

I closed my eyes, my body trembling. One more night. It would be so easy to give in, to let myself fall back into their arms, their beds. But at what cost?

“I…” I started, my voice trembling. “I can’t.”

Yeji pulled back, her eyes narrowing. “Can’t? Or won’t?”

“It’s not the same,” I said, my voice firmer now. “I’m not the same.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then Giselle laughed, the sound cold and dismissive. “You’re right. You’re not the same. You’re worse.”

Julie smirked, her hand trailing down my chest. “But maybe we can fix that.”

I shoved her hand away, my patience snapping. “I’m not something you can fix. I’m not a project, or a game, or… or…”

“A toy?” Yeji finished, her smirk returning. “Because that’s exactly what you were. And you loved it.”

“I didn’t,” I snapped, my voice rising. “I hated it. I hated you.”

“Liar,” Giselle said, her voice sharp. “You loved every second of it.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I loved the idea of you. The fantasy. But the reality… the reality was hell.”

Yeji stepped back, her smirk fading. For a moment, she looked almost… hurt. “You’re really going to throw it all away? Everything we had?”

“We didn’t have anything,” I said, my voice steady now. “It was all in my head. And I’m done pretending otherwise.”

There was a long pause, the air heavy with unspoken words. Then Julie sighed, rolling her eyes. “Fine. Be a bore. But don’t come crawling back when you realize you’re not cut out for… normal.”

They turned, their heels clicking against the floor as they walked away. I watched them go, my heart pounding in my chest. It wasn’t until the elevator doors closed behind them that I finally let out the breath I’d been holding.

But even as the tension left my body, the ache in my chest remained. Just one more night. The words echoed in my mind, taunting me. Because as much as I hated to admit it, part of me still wanted them. Still needed them.

And that scared me more than anything.

The office was quiet, the hum of fluorescent lights the only sound as I tried to focus on the report in front of me. But my mind kept drifting back to the encounter earlier. Yeji, Giselle, Julie—their faces, their words, the way they’d looked at me like I was still theirs. I shook my head, trying to push the thoughts away. They’re gone. They’re not a part of your life anymore.

But just as I was about to dive back into work, my phone buzzed. A text from Yeji: “Come outside. We’re waiting.”

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. No. Not again. I ignored it, setting the phone face down on the desk. But then it buzzed again. And again. And again. Finally, I picked it up, my fingers trembling slightly as I read the next message: “Don’t make us come back up there. You know how much we love a scene.”

I cursed under my breath, dragging a hand over my face. Why can’t they just leave me alone? But deep down, I knew they wouldn’t. Not until they got what they wanted.

Reluctantly, I grabbed my coat and headed for the elevator. The ride down felt like an eternity, my stomach twisting into knots. When the doors slid open, I saw them—Yeji leaning casually against the wall, Giselle scrolling through her phone, Julie with her arms crossed, a smirk on her lips.

“There he is,” Yeji purred, pushing off the wall and walking toward me. “We were starting to think you’d forgotten about us.”

“I haven’t,” I said, my voice firm. “But I’m not doing this. Not again.”

Julie laughed, a sharp, mocking sound. “Oh, come on. You’re not fooling anyone. We know you still want us.” She stepped closer, her eyes glinting with mischief. “You always have.”

“I’ve moved on,” I said, though the words felt hollow even as I said them. “I’m with Yuna now.”

“Yuna,” Giselle scoffed, finally looking up from her phone. “She’s sweet, yeah, but let’s be real—she’s not us.”

“She’s better than you,” I shot back, my frustration boiling over. “She actually cares about me. She respects me.”

Yeji tilted her head, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Respect is overrated. What you need is someone who knows how to make you feel alive. And that’s us.”

Before I could respond, Julie grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong. “Enough talking. Let’s go.”

I tried to pull away, but they were already surrounding me, their presence overwhelming. They led me to a car parked just outside the building, and before I knew it, I was in the backseat, the three of them closing in around me.

The drive to their apartment was a blur, my mind racing as I tried to figure out how to get out of this. But every time I thought about making a move, one of them would touch me—a hand on my thigh, fingers brushing against my neck—and I’d feel that familiar pull, that dangerous allure that I’d spent so long trying to escape.

When we arrived, they practically dragged me inside the apartment, the door slamming shut behind us. Yeji was the first to make her move, pressing me against the wall and kissing me hard, her lips demanding and possessive. I wanted to push her away, to tell her to stop, but my body betrayed me, responding to her touch before I could think.

Giselle was next, her hands sliding under my shirt as she undressed me with practiced ease. Julie watched from a distance, a wicked grin on her face as she pulled out her phone.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice strained as Yeji moved her lips to my neck.

Julie didn’t answer, instead holding up her phone to show me the screen. She was calling Yuna. Panic surged through me, and I tried to pull away, but Yeji and Giselle held me in place, their hands roaming over my body.

“You wouldn’t,” I said, my voice pleading.

“Oh, I would,” Julie said, her grin widening as the call connected. She put it on speaker, and I heard Yuna’s voice, soft and confused, on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Yuna,” Julie said, her tone sickly sweet. “Just wanted to let you know—your boyfriend’s here with us. And he’s very happy to see us.”

“No,” I said, my voice breaking. “Yuna, it’s not what you think—”

But Yeji cut me off, her lips crashing into mine again as Giselle pulled down my pants. I could hear Yuna on the other end of the line, her voice trembling as she asked, “What’s going on? What are you doing to him?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Julie said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “We’re just giving him what he’s always wanted. What he’s always needed. Isn’t that right, baby?”

I wanted to deny it, to tell Yuna the truth, but the words caught in my throat as Giselle dropped to her knees, taking me into her mouth. I groaned, my body betraying me once again as pleasure surged through me.

Yeji pulled back, her lips curving into a wicked smile as she whispered in my ear, “He’s always wanted us. Not you.”

“Don’t listen to her, Yuna,” I managed to say, my voice strained. “Please—”

But Julie cut me off, holding the phone closer as Giselle worked her magic, driving me closer and closer to the edge. I could hear Yuna’s sobs on the other end of the line, and guilt crashed over me like a wave. But even as I tried to fight it, I knew I was losing.

“You’ll never be enough for him,” Yeji said, her voice cold and cruel. “Not like we are.”

And then, as Giselle brought me to the brink, I heard Yuna hang up, the line going dead. I wanted to scream, to break free, but my body was too far gone, too lost in the sensations they were pulling from me.

Yeji laughed, a low, wicked sound, as she undressed, her eyes locked on mine. “Face it, baby. You’re ours. You always have been.”

And as they took turns with me, their hands and mouths claiming me in ways I could never forget, I knew she was right. No matter how much I tried to convince myself I’d moved on, I was still theirs. And I always would be.

Julie’s phone buzzed again, and she picked it up, her grin widening as she read the message. “Looks like your little Yuna isn’t taking this well,” she said, holding it up for me to see. It was a text from Yuna: “I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”

My heart sank, but before I could respond, Giselle was on me again, her lips trailing down my chest as Yeji whispered in my ear, “See? We told you. You’re ours.”

And as they took me again, their bodies moving in sync with mine, I knew there was no escaping them. Not now. Not ever.

The room was a blur of sweat, heat, and tangled limbs. Yeji’s nails dug into my shoulders as she rode me, her hips grinding in slow, deliberate circles that sent waves of pleasure coursing through me. Her breath was hot against my ear, her voice low and sultry. “You’re ours,” she whispered, her words dripping with possessiveness. “You always have been. You always will be.”

Giselle’s laughter rang out as she kissed me, her lips soft but demanding. Her hands roamed my chest, tracing lines of fire across my skin. She pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, her gaze intense. “You thought you could escape us?” she taunted, her voice teasing. “You’re too weak, too addicted to the way we make you feel. Admit it... you’ve missed this.”

I wanted to deny it, to push them away and reclaim some shred of dignity, but my body betrayed me. My hips moved of their own accord, thrusting deeper into Yeji as she moaned in approval. My hands reached for Giselle, pulling her closer, my fingers tangling in her hair as our lips crashed together. And then there was Julie, her tongue tracing a wet path down my neck, her hands gripping my thighs as she positioned herself to take her turn.

“You’re pathetic,” Julie purred, her voice a mix of cruelty and seduction. “But we love you anyway. Isn’t that enough?” She didn’t wait for an answer, instead straddling me and sinking down onto me with a gasp. Her movements were frenzied, desperate, as if she couldn’t get enough. I couldn’t help but respond, my hands gripping her hips as I thrust up to meet her.

The room filled with the sound of their moans, their laughter, their whispers. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and I felt myself slipping further and further into their web. “You’re ours,” Yeji repeated, her voice a sultry chant. “Say it. Say you’re ours.”

I tried to resist, to hold onto some fragment of myself, but the words tumbled out before I could stop them. “I’m yours,” I gasped, my voice choked with need. “I’m yours.”

The trio exchanged triumphant smiles, their eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Good boy,” Giselle cooed, her fingers trailing down my chest. “Now let’s remind you why you belong to us.”

They took turns, their bodies moving over mine in a rhythm that felt both familiar and new. Yeji’s lips claimed mine, her kisses deep and hungry, while Giselle’s hands explored every inch of me, igniting fires wherever she touched. Julie’s voice whispered in my ear, her words a mix of encouragement and command, urging me to give in completely.

The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex, the sound of our bodies slapping together echoing in the room. My mind was a haze of pleasure and pain, desire and despair. I wanted to hate them, to push them away and reclaim my life, but my body craved them in a way I couldn’t deny.

“You’re ours,” Yeji whispered again, her voice a soothing balm against the chaos. “And we’ll never let you go.”

As if to emphasize her words, she leaned down, her lips brushing against mine in a kiss that was both tender and possessive. Giselle’s hands tightened on my hips, guiding my movements as she took her turn, her body moving in perfect sync with mine. Julie’s teeth grazed my neck, her breath hot against my skin as she moaned in pleasure.

The room seemed to spin, the boundaries between us blurring as we became a tangled mess of limbs and desires. I couldn’t tell where one of them ended and the others began. It was as if we were one, connected by something deeper than just physical need.

“You’re ours,” Giselle whispered, her voice a sultry purr. “And you always will be.”

My hands roamed their bodies, my fingers memorizing every curve, every detail. I couldn’t stop myself, couldn’t resist the pull they had on me. It was as if they had cast a spell, one that I was powerless to break.

“You’re ours,” Julie repeated, her voice a tantalizing whisper. “Say it again.”

“I’m yours,” I gasped, my voice trembling with need. “I’m yours.”

The words seemed to ignite something in them, their movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. Yeji’s nails dug into my skin, leaving marks that would serve as a reminder of this moment. Giselle’s hips moved with a furious pace, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Julie’s lips claimed mine, her kiss fierce and demanding.

The pleasure built, a crescendo that threatened to consume me. I could feel myself teetering on the edge, my body trembling with the effort to hold on. And then, with a shuddering gasp, I let go, surrendering completely to the sensations that crashed over me.

They didn’t let up, didn’t give me a moment to catch my breath. Instead, they continued, their bodies moving over mine in a relentless rhythm that left me gasping for air. It was as if they were determined to claim every part of me, to leave no doubt in my mind that I belonged to them.

“You’re ours,” Yeji whispered, her voice a soothing balm against the chaos. “And we’ll never let you go.”

The words echoed in my mind, a mantra that I couldn’t escape. I wanted to believe them, to believe that this was where I belonged, but a small part of me still fought, still clung to the hope of something more.

But as their bodies moved over mine, their hands and mouths claiming me in ways I could never forget, that hope began to fade, replaced by the certainty that I would never escape them. Not now. Not ever.

“You’re ours,” Giselle whispered, her voice a sultry purr. “And you always will be.”

The room was a blur of heat and desire, the boundaries between us blurring as we became one. I couldn’t tell where one of them ended and the others began. It was as if we were connected by something deeper than just physical need.

“You’re ours,” Julie whispered, her voice a tantalizing whisper. “Say it again.”

“I’m yours,” I gasped, my voice trembling with need. “I’m yours.”

The words seemed to ignite something in them, their movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. Yeji’s nails dug into my skin, leaving marks that would serve as a reminder of this moment. Giselle’s hips moved with a furious pace, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Julie’s lips claimed mine, her kiss fierce and demanding.

The pleasure built again, a crescendo that threatened to consume me. I could feel myself teetering on the edge, my body trembling with the effort to hold on. And then, with a shuddering gasp, I let go, surrendering completely to the sensations that crashed over me.

They didn’t let up, didn’t give me a moment to catch my breath. Instead, they continued, their bodies moving over mine in a relentless rhythm that left me gasping for air. It was as if they were determined to claim every part of me, to leave no doubt in my mind that I belonged to them.

“You’re ours,” Yeji whispered, her voice a soothing balm against the chaos. “And we’ll never let you go.”

The words echoed in my mind, a mantra that I couldn’t escape. I wanted to believe them, to believe that this was where I belonged, but a small part of me still fought, still clung to the hope of something more.

But as their bodies moved over mine, their hands and mouths claiming me in ways I could never forget, that hope began to fade, replaced by the certainty that I would never escape them. Not now. Not ever.

[gottencents]

Love Life - Giselle

pairing. idol!giselle x streamer!reader

synopsis. While streaming a GTA Online race, Y/N gets completely distracted when Giselle walks in.

Y/N was fully focused on their GTA Online racing stream, gripping the controller as their car sped down the neon-lit streets of Los Santos. The chat was roasting their driving, per usual.

“Okay, okay, I know my turns are bad—chat, stop clowning me!” Y/N groaned, swerving dangerously close to the edge of the track. “This car handles like a literal refrigerator.”

Just as they were about to make a crucial turn, their bedroom door creaked open. A second later, Giselle strolled in, completely stealing the attention from both Y/N and the chat.

She was dressed in a sleek, effortlessly cool outfit—black cargo pants, a cropped top, and a leather jacket draped over her shoulders. Her makeup was flawless, her confidence effortless, and the way she carried herself made it impossible not to stare.

“Hey, Y/N,” she said, striking a playful pose. “How do I look?”

Y/N’s brain malfunctioned. Their fingers twitched on the controller, and—

BAM.

Their car slammed straight into a pole, the screen flashing a dramatic Wasted across it.

“Oh, for—” Y/N choked, dropping their controller as the chat erupted into chaos.

LMAOOOOOOO THE TIMING

Y/N JUST DIED IRL AND IN GAME

nah y/n is GONEEEE

giselle walked in and y/n forgot how to function pls

Giselle raised an eyebrow, glancing at the screen before turning back to Y/N with an all-too-knowing smirk. “Did you just crash because of me?”

Y/N scrambled to recover, their voice an octave higher than usual. “What? No. That was—that was lag.”

Giselle scoffed, stepping closer, placing one hand on the back of Y/N’s chair as she leaned down slightly. “Oh, really?”

Y/N swallowed hard, their grip tightening on the armrests. “…Yeah?”

Giselle tilted her head slightly, her face just close enough to make Y/N’s pulse go haywire. “So if I do this…” she murmured, her voice teasing as she brushed a stray strand of hair off her shoulder. “…I won’t distract you?”

Y/N was done for.

The chat went into full meltdown mode.

HELP THEYRE FLIRTING ON MAIN

GISELLE KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT SHE’S DOING LMAO

Y/N IS A GONER. CONFIRMED.

CLIP IT CLIP IT CLIP IT

Y/N cleared their throat, sitting up straight in a weak attempt to regain composure. “I—I think you should go before your friends leave without you.”

Giselle grinned, clearly enjoying every second of Y/N’s suffering. “Fine, fine. But don’t miss me too much.”

She turned to leave, and Y/N watched as she strolled toward the door. The moment she disappeared into the hallway, Y/N exhaled loudly and buried their face in their hands.

“Chat, I’m never recovering from that.”

WE CAN TELL LMAOOOO

nah you gotta go give her a real goodbye

you just let her walk away after destroying you like that??

be serious y/n GO AFTER HER

Y/N stared at the chat, still feeling like they had just been hit by a truck. But as the messages flooded in, something clicked in their head. They really did just let Giselle walk away like that after completely ruining their entire ability to function.

Before they could overthink it, Y/N hastily took off their headset and stood up. “Chat, you win. I’ll be right back.”

Leaving the stream running, they hurried out of the room, following the sound of Giselle’s voice toward the front door. When they reached the entrance, they found her casually checking her phone while waiting for her ride.

Giselle looked up as Y/N approached, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. “Didn’t think you’d leave your game just to see me off.”

Y/N ran a hand through their hair, feeling weirdly nervous. “I figured I should give you a proper goodbye. Since, y’know, you did completely wreck my ability to play.”

Giselle smirked. “Not my fault you get distracted so easily.”

Y/N scoffed. “Oh, it’s definitely your fault.”

Giselle tilted her head, studying them for a second before stepping a little closer. “Well… how do you plan on saying goodbye, then?”

Y/N hesitated for only a moment before reaching up to straighten the collar of her jacket, letting their fingers linger slightly before pulling away. “Have fun, okay? And don’t be too cool without me.”

Giselle chuckled. “Impossible.” She held their gaze for a second longer before leaning in just slightly, whispering, “Try not to crash any more cars while I’m gone.”

With that, she turned and stepped outside, leaving Y/N standing there, completely dazed all over again.

When Y/N finally made it back to their stream, they sat down and put their headset back on, their face still slightly flushed.

“…Chat, I hate to say this, but I think she knows exactly what she’s doing.”

The chat was, unsurprisingly, losing it.

YOU THINK????

THIS IS THE FUNNIEST THING EVER

Y/N IS SO DOWN BAD OMG

BRO Y/N LEFT STREAM FOR HER WE WON

nah the way giselle EATS THEM UP EVERY TIME

Y/N shook their head, groaning. “I should’ve stayed asleep today.”

But they didn’t mean it. Not even a little bit.

[nlovesbjh]

꒰ 지젤 ꒱ ── strawberry scent 𖥔 synopsis. . . for your girlfriend it's like a physical need just to touch or even look at your boobs, she's obsessed ໒꒰ྀི ∩⸝⸝∩ ꒱ྀི১

지젤 ／ 𝑠𝑢𝑏 reader ៸៸ non idol au smut ⟡ ⌢ . kissing nipple sucking petnames now is playing! . . honey by kehlani

𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝒩. okay there's nothing crazy in this fic jst boobs obsessed aeri lol because after i saw THIS pic oh my fucking god it did something to me for sure. . .

you were very aware that giselle loved tits. your tits specifically. it was clear by the way she looked at them in public at any given moment when she could, she would literally take every possibility to gaze down at your boobs, absolutely shameless. yes, you would wear low cut tops and going out without bras just to see her reaction and prove your point that she was obsessed with your boobs. she was too weak to not look at them, why would she fight an urge to do that if they were right there infront of her, begging for attention?

the way her hands would always find a way to your tits while you two are cuddling in bed while watching a movie or making out, she would make a reason to touch them even at the softest moment you share together. she couldn't keep her hands to herself, it was like a reflex when her hands comes up just to touch your boobs, squeezing them in her palm like an anti-stress toy. it was, in fact, her favorite thing to do to relieve stress: touch or lick your breasts.

when giselle came home earlier today, as soon as she stepped inside and saw you looking so pretty in your lacy sleepwear, she lost it completely. that see-through dress was leaving nothing to imagination, the contour of your boobs was on a full display just for her and the only thing she could do is kiss you while pushing you towards the couch. giselle's kisses were impatient, sloppy and needy — she needed you. her hands slipped from your neck to hold your breasts when she whispered: "you'll let me play with your tits, right, baby?"

"aeri, please… c-can't…" you cried out as giselle wrapped her lips around your nipple, while her hand comes up to your other breast. her fingers teasing your sensitive skin, rolling your other nipple in between her fingers as she sucks gently. her tongue swirling around hardening bud, making it too hard for you to keep quiet.

emboldened by your needy whimpers, giselle's ministrations grew more intense. she nibbled and licked, alternating between two breasts, leaving trails of fire in your wake. she couldn't stop, wanting to give both of your perfect tits some attention like her life depends on it. she sucked harder, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, while her fingers plucked and rolled the stiff peak. the sounds of your ragged breathing and wanton cries spurred her on, driving her to new heights of passion. "you taste so fucking good…"

"fuck," your hand comes up to her hair, nails digging into your girlfriends scalp as you held her tightly, trying to bring her impossibly closer to you. the wetness of her saliva on your skin and the feeling of her hot breath was making it difficult for you to not grind your clothed cunt against her thigh.

[nerdlvr]

as he sat on your pink fluffy couch, haechan wondered how the hell he got himself in this situation. he fidgeted in his seat, silence eating him alive. he looked up quickly, catching a glimpse of you before immediately ducking his head back down.

if he had known he'd been called over to get stared down by five very attractive individuals, he probably would've ignored the job offer and forced himself to live with the burden of poverty. you five had been looking over at him and whispering to one another for the past ten minutes, leaving him sat there, tense and sweaty.

.

he had been greeted at the door by the short pretty boy, huang renjun, kinda mean but nice enough to appear welcoming. and then he was guided into your bedroom by a taller bulkier male, lee jeno, kind smile but kinda intimidating. as he waited for "the boss" to be out of the bathroom (that's what everyone had been calling you), he was questioned by another pretty boy, na jaemin. he asked him about photography which helped ease his nerves.

"donghyuck, you're like a camera god, don't look so nervous, there's no one better for this job than you!"

he wish he knew what the job actually was, but he'd just have to wait for "the boss" to be ready. he also wishes that you'd hurry up because during the wait, a female had appeared. she was dressed in all black, outfit simple yet very fashionable, aeri uchinaga or giselle which she preferred to be called. hyuck avoided eye contact with her as best as he could, only mumbling a little hi, eyes focused on the super interesting piece of lint on his pants.

.

when you had finally come in hyuck made the mistake of looking up, swallowing thick as he stared you down. you were gorgeous wow, well you were all gorgeous, but you, you were something out of his wet dreams. your cute little outfit snug tight against your body, wait was that appropriate for a job interview?

"taaa-daaa!"

you spun around on your heels, hands on your hips as you posed for everyone to see. hyuck's mouth went dry as he watched you.

"stop putting on a show you're scaring the poor kid, hurry up so we can do the interview."

jaemin rushed you onto the bed facing hyuck. you leaned forward from your seat reaching your hand out to greet haechan.

"hey hyuck-"

he blushed at the nickname.

"nice to meet you, i'm y/n, the one actually hiring you."

he shook your hand quickly, pulling his own back like he had just been burned.

"nice to meet you too, y/n."

he avoided eye contact eyes drifting towards your cleavage as you bent in front of him. haechan shut his eyes bringing his hands onto his lap to hide his arousal, are you a fucking teenager get a grip! you giggled sitting back down on the bed as your other four friends joined you, and that's how it began.

.

haechan feels like he's been sitting there for hours listening to you all whisper, occasional pushes and shoves being exchanged between the five of you. renjun was the first to speak, clearing his throat before starting,

"i'm gonna be blunt with you lee donghyuck. y/n is a cam girl and we want you to record her streams for her-"

"and occasionally take her sexy twitter posts!"

"yes... like giselle said, and take pictures of her. she's going to be nude almost all of the time, or as close to naked as she can get. can you handle that?"

hyuck thinks maybe god hates him, or maybe he really loves him because what the actual hell is going on. he stared at the five of you eyes wide, processing what renjun had just said.

"look now you've scared him!"

jaemin slapped renjun's thigh, an apologetic smile on his face.

"i wish i could make this better for you donghyuck, but i don't think there's any way to sugar coat this."

haechan bit his lip, looking towards you.

.

you knew from the moment you had walked in that donghyuck had zero experience with women. the way he avoided eye contact and the way he stole glances at your breasts and bare legs. so the shock on his face at the job description was more than expected, what you didn't expect to feel so bad for him. he looked like a deer caught in headlights, ready to run away at the slightest threat.

"everyone out."

your friends looked at you confused as you pointed to the door.

"you heard me everyone out. now- no not you hyuck sit down."

you watched as he nervously sat back down, ready to leave at your command. your friends exchanged glances as they exited the room, unsure of what you were planning on doing.

.

haechan could feel the heat rise in his body as you shut the door behind them. why on earth did you want to be alone with him?

he tried to calm his breathing as he watched you kneel in front of him, placing your hands on his thighs, dick twitching at the touch, for the love of god lee donghyuck relax.

"hey, hyuck look at me, please?"

he sighed before raising his gaze to meet your eyes, a gentle smile on your lips.

"i know this sounds crazy, and i know i should have told you what the job was before you came."

he nodded in agreement, a giggle leaving you lips,

"so, lee donghyuck, right now i am y/n y/l/n the college student, but when i do my job i am craftykitty the camgirl."

wait- you were who? craftykitty? the camgirl that kept him up for countless nights, moaning into his pillows so his roommates wouldn't hear him? the camgirl that he spends hundreds of dollars on? his dream camgirl that is kneeled in front of his hands on his thighs? he stared at you with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape.

"i've seen your work and i know you're capable of doing the job right hyuck, but it's up to you okay? i've been doing this cam stuff for a while but this is my first time actually telling someone who i am, so please if you don't want the job can you at least keep my identity a secret?"

.

you let out a nervous laugh, forgetting that donghyuck hadn't signed the NDA yet. what are you even rambling about telling a complete stranger your identity and you don't even know if he'll take the job-

"i'll do it."

now it was your turn to looked shocked. his cheeks were flushed and his nervousness was clear in the way he picked at the fur on your couch.

"i'll do it, just, i just need some time to adjust, i want my focus to be 100% through the lens, i'll be okay as long as i look at you through the camera."

you pushed yourself off the floor, a wide smile on your lips,

"perfect! we can do whatever you want hyuck! you can have that damn camera stuck to your eyes if you want!"

you sprinted towards the door hitting it harshly, yelps coming from the other side of it.

"i know you guys were listening! he said he'll do it! get the paperwork!"

you turned back to him quickly,

"how about we do some practice shots so you can get warmed up, hm?"

truthfully haechan wanted to say no, he wanted nothing more than to run back to his dorm and shove his hand down his pants, your face still clear in his mind. but as he looked up at your bright smile he fears that he might agree to anything you say, all you had to do was ask.

⋆₊˚⊹.𖥔 zoom, click, panic ! -> 3. chat spam mommy

previous -> masterlist -> next

notes: literally rewrote this like 10 times i am struggling guys 😭 i wrote like 3 midterm essays today i don't have brain power. but for nerd hyuck i will make an exception, hope you guys are liking it!

taglist : @sunghoonsgfreal , @hizhu , @axo-l0tl , @strawberrysavi , @hyuckiebb-blog , @hyucktion , @4yunogf , @jakesbubu , @gacktsa , @iheartjayke , @annoyednblax , @luvvhaechan , @dudekiss3r , @nanaxwi , @yesohhsehun , @prettybluei , @soobinbunnie5 , @hyucksunset , @peterm4rker , @byeonwooseokabs , @kodasity , @hyuckmoon , @catdonut657 , @lionzyon , @luvandletter , @defzcl , @nneteyamss , @222brainrot , @1lovejinki , @zzurao , @catpjimin , @multifandomania , @docilismo , @cyjzzl , @livingdoll-hara , @this-is-lowkey-a-hyuck-fanpage , @ohwowzersthatscool , @babyjenono , @wonswondrland , @jenoleeaesthetic , @bananinhazz , @hyuckna25 , @doejaejung , @angeliqueiguess , @mymartiniblue , @aerivrs , @heyitsbreeeeee , @choizzn , @jae-n0 , @hyuckshinee

[elleluvsjurin]

lookin like jessica rabbit

requested

synopsis: karina is captivated by y/n. giselle hooks the two up and they instantly hit it off.

pairings: yoo jimin x top model fem!reader

cw: smut, scissoring, nipple play, soft dom!rina

MEN DNI!!

the lights, the sounds of cameras flashing, the different chatter amongst people, and most importantly, the rumors. being a top model in korea definitely came with a lot of rumors. here recently, the speculations have died down. you’ll be participating in a catwalk amongst other models. there will be quite a few kpop artists there to support the models. you hadn’t really been involved or talk with anyone in the industry because you know how fans can get and how fast rumors spread so you believed that it was best for you to stay out of it..until you met karina of aespa. jimin watched you strut down the catwalk. your aura captivated every sense that she had. she thought you were beautiful, confident, and bold...you were perfect.

“who is that?” karina whispers to giselle, who sat next to her as you finish up your strut, walking backstage.

“oh that’s y/n y/l/n. very sweet girl. got a crush on her, eh?” giselle teases karina, her face turning a shade of red.

“maybe. how do you know her?” jimin replied

“i don’t really know her but we follow each other on instagram, i do know of her. really pretty, has lots of fans and people say her personality is amazing. she may know you. i could hook you too up?” giselle says

“yes please. i would really appreciate it, the show’s almost over!” karina gushes and giselle giggles at her friend.

the show eventually ends, aespa heads backstage to do a meet and greet with some of the models. they shake hands with them, eventually your turn is next and karina blushes as she feels your soft hand intertwine with her hand.

“you’re so gorgeous.” you mention to her and she smiles, bowing in the process.

“thank you, you too.” she comments

“I’d love to talk with you sometime. write your number down and hand it to me later.” you say

“o-ok, of course.” she says, doing as you say.

“sure thing..jimin.” you walk off with her number, leaving the girl stunned. her group of friends laughing at the interaction between you too.

“seems like our jimin will be getting some tonight.” Ning Ning comments, winter laughing along with Giselle as karina playfully rolls her eyes.

the night finally comes to an end and you end up texting karina to see if she wanted to chill with you for the night.

karina felt ecstatic when she read your message. she felt like she was on top of the world. someone like you invited her to hang out for the night!

karina quickly gets dressed, wearing a some sweatpants and a cute cropped top. she sneaks out of the dorm and takes a drive to your apartment. she knocks on your door nervously, you open the door and her mouth drops.

you’re in a satin robe paired with a cute lingerie set that’s up under the robe, your nipples harden when you open the door and see karina standing there.

“hi jimin.” you say, letting her in the luxury apartment.

“h-hey.” she stutters, taking in the features of your place.

“nervous?” you tease and she just smiles, a slight blush creeping up on her face.

“uh- no! not at all!” she says

“come upstairs with me.” you mumble in her ear. like a trance, she follows you until she gets up to your bedroom. your room has a nice view of downtown Seoul.

“it’s so pretty in here.” karina says, looking out of your window. the city lights shine brightly in your dimmed room.

“thank you, rina..” you trail off, your eyes travel down and back up her body. karina turns around, startling herself when she sees you looking at her.

“so what do you want to do?” she asks, sitting on your bed comfortably as she throws her bag to the side of the room

“You.” you say aloud so she can hear you

“what if I don’t fuck on the first date?” karina chuckles before walking over to you. her persona completely changing.

“well..” you start

“well, what?” she cuts you off, taking you aback. she wraps her arms around your waist, her hands trail down your ass

“we don’t have to.” you mumble out while she unties your robe, leaving you half naked before whispering in your ear.

“i want to.” she says as her soft lips brush up against your ear. “who would say no to a pretty girl like you, hm?”

“j-jimin..” you softly mumble as she pushes you onto the bed

“hm?” she mumbles before she presses her lips against yours. “so fucking pretty..” she says into the kiss

karina pulls down your bra, not taking it off fully, before sucking on your nipple. you throw your head back as her tongue sucks all over the sensitive bud. you rub her clothed clit with your own knee while she switches to your other nipple.

“fuck..take these off.” you say. she listens to you, stripping of her clothes. she pulls your lace panties down your leg and eventually throwing them somewhere in your room. she gets on top of you, rubbing her nipples up against yours, the stimulation leaving your brain fuzzy.

“mmh- ..” you mumble, she kisses your lips once more. your knee finally touches her bare clit, her wetness leaks all over your knee as you move your knee back and forth on her clit, eliciting a moan from the woman.

“oh fuck..” karina breathes out, her fingers flick your nipples as you continue to move your knee back and forth on her clit.

“feel good, hmm rina?” you ask

“fuck yes..need to feel you.” she says, getting off of you. “spread your legs for me.” you follow her orders, your dripping cunt on display for the woman.

karina sits in between your legs, her clit instantly comes into contact with yours, stimulating the both of you. karina rocks her hips back and forth, forcing her clit to rub up against yours at a fast pace.

“oh shit.” you say, looking up at her. her baby hairs stick to her forehead as she works hard to get the two of you to orgasm. she grabs your jaw, slowly spitting in your mouth; being the good girl you are, you swallow and she smirks.

“fuck, your pussy is so wet for me..you’re dripping all over me.” she mumbles as she holds onto your leg, grinding her clit into yours. you let out a high pitched moan feeling yourself leak onto her.

“a-ah jimin…i-im almost there.” you moan out and she speeds up. the noises of your harmonized moans and the squelching of your clits coming into contact with each other has your head spinning.

“give it to me…i wanna feel your cum all over me.” she says

you throw your head back, almost breaking your neck while you let out a pornographic moan as you cum on her pussy. your orgasm tiggers hers, forcing her to cum on you. she falls back, breathing heavily. you two lay on your bed for a few minutes before you speak up.

“wanna spend the night?” you ask and she looks over at you with a smirk on her face.

“sure.”

the rest was history for the two of you. you guys started dating within a month of the “booty call”, she’s a real gentlewoman. takes you on dates, you buy each other expensive gifts and clothes. you two plan on spending an eternity with each other.

alt ending: linked here

[bellaaae]

Winter babying and being whipped for YN for 5mins straight [462k views]

— Clip 1✰

At aespa’s concert winter noticed a fan holding a banner with different pictures of YN from black mamba era.

She smiled at the persons direction and held the mic pointing to the persons direction.

“Ahh Black mamba YN!” She exclaimed.

“YN looked so much more like a baby during this era” she said walking around, the other members noticed the banner and also complimented YN’s baby face.

Meanwhile YN was in the corner too into the music that was playing in the background zoning out.

She snapped out of her zone when she noticed winter running towards her with a smile.

Giving the girl a confused look she tilted her head a little to the side. Only adding to her cuteness.

Winter couldn’t help but squeal and put her hands under YN’s chin making baby noises. “Ahh babyyy” she cooed at the younger girl who just looked at her like she was crazy.

Soon enough the other members also joined in on babying yn.

“Huh?” YN spoke still confused.

— Clip 2✰

After aespa finished performing Armageddon YN was choose for the ending fairy.

Yn put her hands over her mouth like she was blowing kisses. She winked and waved smiling brightly.

Suddenly the confetti popped which YN was not expecting making be to widen her eyes which later turned to excitement as she collected all the confetti smiling widely. A genuine smile.

Winter stood in the corner watching YN with a motherly smile.

Another camera zoomed into winter. “Isn’t she so cute? I just wish my phone was with me I would’ve pictured this lovely moment” she said pretending to take a photo.

“Hope fans make videos of this beautiful moment” she spoke smiling indirectly telling fans to make a video of it.

— Clip 3✰

Yn slouched on the couch backstage feeling exhausted.

Winter sat beside her and put a blanket over her stroking her hair. “You did a great job today, do you want me to buy you snacks?” She asked you.

You nodded your head. “Yeah I’m really craving anything at this point” you said making her giggle and pinch your cheeks.

“You’re so cute”

— Clip 4✰

Yn was dared to dress as a sunflower as her punishment on a game show.

When YN came out winter screamed making the members look at her weirdly until they understood why she was screaming.

Yn looked at her flustered. “Minjeong Unnie is so weird” YN mumbled.

Before you knew it winter was all over the maknae giving her kisses all over her face.

The rest of the members were laughing, Giselle covering the both of them while Karina said “yah Minjeong hope you didn’t forget that this is going to posted on the internet”.

✰𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐀

[wonysugar]

g!p sugar mommy giselle🫦🫦🫦

g!p.... sugar mommy...... giselle..... ANON. holds you by the neck dearly thank you for this. also! it’s barely even mentioned at all but just know giselle is like 37ish and reader is in her mid-twenties. :]

cw : age-gap!

giselle as the sugar mommy you randomly met on your day to day minimum wage job at a fast food place MHMMM LET ME COOKKK..... having her be a regular who always comes in like once a week, always wearing something super fancy.. like a black prada trenchcoat or sometimes even a dolce & gabbana blazer. point is, she immediately stuck out like a sore thumb among the rest of the crowd.

plus, you found her undeniably gorgeous as soon as you laid eyes on her, so it's not like she'd go unnoticed otherwise, either.

she often approached you at the register and made small talk, as stupid as it often was. she'd find some stupid excuse not to use the self checkout machine and would find a lame conversation starter while you're watching her pull out a dior purse, proceeding with the payment of her order. that often lead to you asking her questions of your own.

"why do you eat here? you look like you have other.... better places to be eating at."

she'd chuckle at your words, finding them amusing, before answering in a gentle tone, "trust me, i do. my niece doesn't seem to think the same way i do, however, as she seems to really like this place. i appear to be the only one indulging her."

soon enough, you'd warm up to her with each visit of hers and the conversations would get much, much longer. so much so that, often times, your manager would have to step in and remind you to get back to work prompty. it got annoying quickly, as the conversations were just getting good; chatting about studies, travel plans, ambitions and goals, etc.

so, wanting to have these incredibly interesting exchanges in a more comfortable and relaxed setting, aeri asked for your number.

naturally.

who cares that she was like, ten years older than you. it wouldn’t hurt to make a friend… right?

numerous nights of friendly-texting-turned-flirty later, you two quickly agreed on a set date and location, which turned out to be a friday evening spent in the very expensive restaurant right across the block from your workplace. it was a date! she informed you to come in 'appropriate' attire, whatever that meant. how would you know? your closet consisted of hoodies, sweaters and some t-shirts as well as your work uniform. that being said, you showed up to the date wearing a low cut dark blue dress you found laying around in the darkest depths of your drawer for probably more than seven years. saying you were nervous would be nothing but a huge understatement.

she, on the other hand, came wearing a creamy white turtleneck under the black trench-coat she was usually seen wearing when ordering food at your job, the look topped off by wide legged black pants and really expensive looking black leather heels.

what the fuck are you doing.

getting cold feet, you nervously sat down at the table and bowed your head in her direction. intimidated by the light yet impacting amount of makeup she had on her face, you avoided eye contact as much as possible. she was breathtaking.

she told you to choose whatever you’d like on the menu and to not look at the price, as she insisted you not to worry at all about the bill. you, of course, felt guilty so you proceeded to pick the least expensive thing on the menu and attempted to convince her that you genuinely loved the dish, hence why you’d pick it among everything else.

who were you kidding though, you couldn’t even pronounce whatever fuckass french name it was that you picked to the waiter. she smiled at you as you finished ordering, making you turn red in embarrassment.

“you know y/n, i couldn’t bring myself to mention it in a place as unflattering as your workplace, no offence,” she started as you shook off the statement, practically agreeing with her before she continued, “but i must say that i think you are absolutely adorable.”

it gets to a point. and at this point you’re just short-circuiting at her words and intense eye contact, finding it difficult to even act properly in front of her!

she noticed that, of course, especially in times during the conversation where she called you endearing names such as “darling”, “love” and “honey”.

that wasn’t much different in bed, either.

as it turns out, you really did want her to fuck you at the end of the night! honestly, how could you not when she’d been opening every single door for you, insisting on paying for the entirety of the bill at the restaurant and offering to drive you home despite it only being a 10 minute walk?

she’d done nothing but drive you crazy all evening with her sexy and gentle manners, it’s only natural you gave her a sloppy handjob whilst she drove her grey lexus lx back to her own house with the pure intention of fucking the shit out of you.

…and she did! very well, at that!

two of her fingers deep into you, she circled your clit with her thumb and left gentle kisses on your jaw down to your collarbone. slow and steady pumps of the digits, she thrived in hearing your soft whimpers.

that didn’t last long, however. she was getting impatient, and her dick was aching to feel you.

ass up face down, you’re getting pounded relentlessly into the mattress before you know it. getting treated like nothing but a queen all night only to be later fucked like a depraved slut… it had to be the best thing you’d ever felt in a while. of course, you let her know of that with guttural moans that left your body with each thrust of her cock. she didn’t care, her house was big enough to muffle your screams, after all.

she whispered obscenities into your ear whilst you did so, gripping a fistful of your hair and humming at each sound that came out of your mouth. talking about how tight your cunt was for her, about how good it felt, how she couldn’t wait to use it every other day, about how she would kill to take care of a pretty little thing like you.

gripping onto your sides and ramming into you shamelessly as she drove you to your climax, you bit your lip until you felt like it was bleeding. her breathier heavier and each of her moans slightly higher than the previous, you both orgasmed together, a wave of euphoria washing over the two of you immediately.

oh and, you know what she said about ‘taking care of a pretty little thing like you?’ yeah, she meant every word.

soon enough, she’s taking you on dates every other weekend, referring you to a slightly better paying, less agonizing job thanks to the connections she possesses, sending you excessive amounts of money she labels as your ‘monthly allowance’ and overall spoiling you with whatever your heart desires. hell. she even payed your university tuition! she finds it endearing to see you always so shy and embarrassed to accept the money she gives you; you always go on about how ‘you don’t give her anything back’ and how it isn’t fair.

but to her, you do give back. your happiness and joy is what aeri does it for, and you give her great amounts of that. not only that, but you also give back by whoring yourself out and looking pretty for her. giving her unwarranted boners by sending her risky pictures and videos while she’s at work, having you wear the lingerie she buys you, knowing you use the toys she got you whenever she’s too busy to take care of you, etc. aeri could name nothing better than having you be the beautiful doll she gets to play with every now and then. :]

[leaderwonim]

𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐘 — eleven: fair-weathered friends

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. lee heeseung x fem!reader, park sunghoon x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. Y/N always knew that her high school was dominated by wealth and privilege. Upon having a one night stand with popular athlete Lee Heeseung, she uncovers that Heeseung's friend group controls not only social dynamics but also school policies and local affairs, revealing a hidden world of power and manipulation behind their so called perfectly polished exteriors

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Heeseung doesn’t know why you’re ignoring him, and he really doesn’t want to know.

He’s afraid he’s fucked up everything again, and that you’re just another person in his life that will walk away because well… you can.

“Hey Giselle,” Heeseung passes by the black haired girl, not knowing whether or not to come closer. He can’t get you alone, so the most he could do is talk to your friend.

“Uhm, yes?” She asks, clearly confused as to why Lee Heeseung of all people wants to talk to her.

She has an itching feeling it has something to do with you, but she won’t say anything about it.

“Why is Y/N upset with me?”

Ah, that confirmed Giselle’s assumptions.

“Well what do you think Heeseung?”

Heeseung has no idea. His palms are starting to sweat and he feels like he’s running out of breath. “I mean—I don’t know, I haven’t done anything.”

And he means it. He hasn’t. Has he?

“The gala, Heeseung. Ring any bells?”

It doesn’t. Not at first. He tries to remember everything that happened at Seojun’s gala. He drove you there, walked you in, then disappeared into the kitchen where he found Hanni.

Fuck, Hanni.

You must’ve seen him and Hanni together and thought something else was happening.

“Was it about me and Hanni? Because I swear nothing happened—”

“Heeseung.” Giselle puts her hand on his shoulder, stabilizing him in place. “I’m not the person you should be saying this to and you know that.”

“I know,” he frowns. “But she just won’t talk to me. What am I supposed to do here, Giselle?”

Giselle lets out a sigh.

“This is only because you’re the nicest out of all of them and I love Y/N.” She says sternly. “Come with me.”

Heeseung follows the girl to the empty corridor on the opposite side of the hallway, his head hung low trying to piece together what you saw that night.

“Explain yourself.” She says as she motions him to sit down across from her.

Heeseung takes a deep gulp, then starts to retrace everything that happened the night of the gala.

Heeseung knows that he shouldn’t give you the dress he bought for Hanni earlier in the year when he thought she was going to attend the gala with him.

It’d be preposterous—but it was a beautiful expensive dress nonetheless, and he’d hate for it to go to waste.

He always thought you looked beautiful in black. The first time he met you, at a party when the both of you were drunkenly dancing to The Smiths, you were wearing a short black dress, one that had him tripping over his own foot.

When you entered the gala with him, he felt on top of the world. He excused himself to get you drinks when he ran into Hanni with Sunghoon.

Of course she was with Sunghoon. In fact, as a final slap to the face to Heeseung, they were even wearing matching outfits.

“Hey,” Sunghoon greets the boy, and Heeseung pretends to be happy because he doesn’t want to ruin the group dynamic.

He’s truly never felt brotherly with Sunghoon, mainly because he felt like the boy was always out to get him. Hanni? She was Sunghoon’s. Top grades? That was also Sunghoon. It was like everything Heeseung tried to do, Sunghoon just beat him by a landslide.

And that just made Heeseung feel real shitty, all the fucking time.

“Can we talk Hanni?”

Heeseung is expecting a fight, at least from Sunghoon. But it’s as if the boy already knows he has won, giving a curt nod to the both of them as some sort of approval. Not like Heeseung needed it—he could do things with or without stupid Park Sunghoon’s approval.

Hanni pulls Heeseung upstairs. She knows Seojun’s gigantic house like the back of her hand. Seojun has always been like a second family to her, and even though the two were competitive hotheads, they loved each other in the way that brothers and sisters do.

“You showed up with her again?”

Hanni says that with such venom that Heeseung feels like he’s disappointed her all over again.

“I mean, what am I supposed to do here Hanni? You want me to wait around for you forever?”

Yes. Everybody knows Pham Hanni gets what she wants, and if she wants Heeseung to wait around forever, then she gets it. But he’s so fucking sick of it, he’s so tired of being around people who only find him beneficial when things are happy and content.

“You’re real classy Heeseung.”

And it feels like a slap in the face because Hanni knows just where to strike Heeseung where it hurts.

When she leaves, he runs after her. He doesn’t know why, but his feet carries him towards her.

He drives her home, the whole ride is silent except for the occasional huffs she lets out to know that she is not happy with him right now.

Heeseung knows Hanni isn’t the nicest girl at Decelis. She’s also not the most humble either, but that doesn’t change the fact that she has a great eye.

She knows designer clothes like the back of her hand, and she’s always flawless. Heeseung just wishes that for once, Hanni would use it to look at him.

“We’re here.” He says, unlocking his door to come over to her side.

“Don’t.” She says, as she unlocks her door by herself. She gets out, head bumping into Heeseung’s chest by how harsh she stands up.

“Hanni, I really don’t want to fight.”

“We’re not fighting.” She says, hand coming into her Miu Miu handbag to get her house keys.

“Hanni, please, just listen to me.”

She doesn’t even look at him, much less acknowledge him.

“I love you.”

That makes her stop shuffling through her bag.

“What?”

“I love you. I love you so much that it hurts.” He lets out a deep breath. “But I’ll never be enough for you, right?”

“Heeseung.”

He’s made it weird. He made it one hundred times worse. Oh God.

“It’s okay, I accept it Hanni. I know he’ll always be first. Sunghoon.”

Hanni doesn’t show any signs of emotions, her face still stoic as ever.

“I’ve tried everything I can to make you notice me. You were my first love Hanni, you were my first everything. I loved you first, not him. But I won’t ever be him, will I? No matter how hard I try, it’ll always be Park Sunghoon, won’t it?” He lets a few tears escape his eyes, wiping them away in a hurry. “I’m fine with that now. I’m fine with it because I don’t want to lose you Hanni. No matter how much it hurts.”

Hanni finally finds her keys, plugging them into her keyhole and opening her front door.

“It wasn’t.” She says slowly.

“What?”

“It wasn’t always Park Sunghoon.”

She doesn’t let Heeseung question her further. “You had too much to drink at Seojun’s so just go home, okay Heeseung? Go home.”

He knows that she knows he didn’t have anything to drink. Hanni knows he would never drive her under the influence. He wouldn’t put her life in danger like that.

He almost wants to fall on his knees at her doorstep when she slams it close, something he would’ve done months ago when he was still so inlove with her.

But he doesn’t. He just sniffles, wiping away the dried tears on his cheeks.

He sees a familiar car pull up, one whose lights shine so brightly that for a brief second, Heeseung’s eyes are blinded.

“Heeseung.”

The owner is nonetheless Park Sunghoon.

“Why are you not at the Gala?” Is the first thing Heeseung blurts out.

“I just drove Danielle home.”

Heeseung rubs his temple, a migraine was starting to formulate in his head.

“Okay, goodnight man.”

Heeseung doesn’t question why Sunghoon shows up at Hanni’s house, mainly because he already knows the answer to his question.

His mind goes back to you, the one person who despite all his flaws, sees right through Heeseung.

Lee Heeseung’s heart had always belonged to Hanni. Ever since he saw her the first time in freshman year when he still had braces on and his hair was all over the place. But now that he’s gotten older, now that he’s grown, he realizes that his heart didn’t belong to her anymore, but it belonged to you, the one person who actually understood Heeseung.

He knew he had to get back to the gala, to find you.

“Where are you going?”

“To Y/N, she’s still at the Gala.”

Sunghoon ears perk up, and he reaches out for Heeseung. “Heeseung, wait—”

“What?”

However, Sunghoon bites back his tongue, retracting away from Heeseung. “Uh, nevermind. Goodnight.”

It was weird, but Heeseung didn’t have time to think about it. He had you to worry about. The girl he actually likes.

“And when I got to the Gala, she was already gone.” Heeseung explains, his head hung low.

Giselle, after hearing Heeseung spill his guts out for the last twenty minutes, is stunned. She never knew how much heartbreak the boy actually went through.

“Come here Heeseung.” The girl says pitifully, opening her arms out to the boy.

He lets out a sob, letting himself melt into the arms of Giselle.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

And really, it wasn’t okay. It wasn’t going to be okay until he was able to explain his side of the story to you, but for now, Heeseung will just have to be okay with it.

[rainsiide]

IF WE’RE NOTHING, (WE’RE NOTHING.)

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི now playing Comfort Inn Ending - Jhene Aiko. 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

“Why would you call it love when you knew that it wasn't?”

giselle x reader ⋮ giselle broke the weeks of no contact with you and asked she you to be her valentine.

warning you! ⋆ toxic exs, (kinda) heartbreak, some sort of rekindlement, manipulation, vulgar language

the gold bangle bracelet slipped down your wrist gently. tonight giselle had texted you, inviting you to a rooftop diner. she had broke no contact with you a few weeks ago and asked you to be her valentines. she told you to dress your best and meet her there by six-thirty. honestly, you were happy she had asked you because you probably would’ve sat in bed sulking and crying to the worst romcoms. taking a final look at your vanity mirror, you had hoped you were up to giselle’s standards.

slipping on some simple pumps, and a purse on your shoulder.

you shot a text to giselle before leaving your apartment, locking it behind you and making your way downstairs.

by the time you got downstairs you had no response from giselle. trying not to overthink it you continued on to your car and put in the address, driving off. soft music played in the car as your tires ran the street. cars ran past you like a relay, we all had somewhere to be.

finding yourself outside the building, giselle had still not responded to your text. maybe she was just getting things set up, yeah, that was all. walking through the glass doors you were greeted by a woman in a waitress outfit. asking how could she help you today.

“i’m with uchinaga.” you told her, quite anxious honestly. she gave you a smiled, then looking down at a rather big ipad to check with the reservations. looking at you and then at the table, she whispered something to herself. putting it down she looked back at you.

“you can follow me.” she proposed, stepping from behind the podium and making her way through the restaurant. several couples, the smell of wine, love, and more.

you spotted the all familiar pink haired girl on her phone. two menus set up, which her opposing side was rather messy. you thanked the waitress and giselle was quick to notice you.

“hey baby.” she said, standing up to bring you into a hug you hadn’t felt in some months. the embrace felt as though you would never let go. she placed a small kiss on your cheek, letting go and pulling your chair out for you. you smiled at her ladylike gesture, as you sat down across from her. it felt like your first valentine with her all over again.

as time went on a natural conversation sparked between you both. your main focus on her and, her phone. several buzzes and chimes had came through, and it was clear they were text messages. you tried not to pay any mind to them, clearly she wasn’t.

before the food came out you decided to excuse yourself to the bathroom to “wash your hands.” as you got up you had infact went to the bathroom to wash your hands. but as you left, you went around to come from the side of the restaurant behind giselle. you just wanted a peek at her phone. it was open to the messages on her notification center but she was clearly ignoring them.

“hey baby, are you still coming over?” one.

“will i see you tonight?” two.

“i miss you.. i wanna spend v-day together.” three.

“you were just responding earlier, text me back!” four.

and those were only messages you could see. you didn’t know if you wanted to throw her phone across the restaurant, or throw her. you walked around from behind her as grabbed your purse from the back of the chair.

“hey baby, what’s the matter? where are you going?” she looked frantic, scanning your rush to leave.

“don’t you fucking baby me giselle.” you said through your teeth. she stood up quickly trying to see you face to face of what happened.

“what the fuck is your problem? what is going on?” she said, her tone raising slightly. trying not to cause a scene in the middle of the restaurant.

“hey baby, are you still coming over?” are you fucking serious giselle.” you said, pushing her back. walking out the restaurant. you didn’t know if it was the tears or the rain that were falling down her face, but you knew it was heavy, and it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon

not many steps were made before you felt the rain stop and a hand on your wrist. her pink hair was still perfect. her features soft yet a tint of anger behind her eyes. the black umbrella shielding you from the cries of the sky.

“y/n those messages were nobody, i swear. you know i would never fuck around with anyone else. contact or no contact.” she said, her hand letting go of your wrist and gently touching your drenched face. you felt there was some truth behind her words, you didn’t know what words were true.

“trust me baby, i love you. you know that, and you know you love me too.” she stated. it was true, you always loved giselle, regardless of what happened between you. you would always come back.

“i know, but giselle.. you make me feel like we’re nothing.” you whispered to her, you wanted to speak louder but there was something holding you back. you wanted to say it with your chest but your heart rejected.

“we’re not nothing, we’re everything, you’re everything to me. you could never be nothing to me. i’d be nothing without you.” she said as she moved closer to you.

as she moved closer her breath fanned against your lips, the world was quiet and all you heard was your thoughts and her mouth. a gentle kiss was placed on her lips.

“let me make you feel everything on valentines baby.”

[winwintea]

encore

PAIRING ↬ actor!park sunghoon x fem!reader

TAGS ↬ thriller, romance, action, mystery, suspense, body swap au, supernatural au, musical theatre setting, everyone is pretty sus, sunghoon is a sassy king for like 5 seconds, he also breaks the 4th wall randomly

SUMMARY ↬ you aren’t giselle.

so why do you look like her? are you in giselle’s body right now? then where’s your actual body? and where in the world is the real giselle? is the lead actor who seems to be the only one to recognize you actually on your side? or will you get caught by the others and perish in a body that isn’t your own? so many questions and so little time.

WORD COUNT ↬ 8.1k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ my official enhablur debut 🥺🥺 (ignore the jay fic i wrote last year i’m pretending like it doesn’t exist) thank u @polarisjisung my love for encouraging me to post as well as beta read <33 we stepping out of the comfort zone with this one!

PLAYLIST ↬ fatal trouble - enhypen; marionette - red velvet; masquerade - chung ha; swan - miyeon; head over heels - abba; fairytale - alexander rybak; judas - lady gaga; mystery lover - taemin; encore - purple kiss

THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICED WAS THE SMELL.

It wasn’t the usual faint scent of your lavender body wash or the stale coffee from your tiny apartment. No, this was something richer, more expensive—like jasmine and vanilla, with a hint of stage makeup and something metallic. Your head throbbed as you blinked your eyes open, the world spinning into focus. 

You were lying on a plush velvet chaise lounge, the kind you’d see in old Hollywood movies. The room around you was bathed in soft golden light, the walls adorned with framed playbills and bouquets of roses. A vanity table sat in the corner, its mirror reflecting the cluster of makeup brushes, lipsticks, and a half-empty bottle of champagne. 

“What the—” You started, voice catching in your throat. That wasn’t your voice. It was smoother, more melodic, with a slight edge of authority. You froze, heart pounding as you stared at the mirror. 

The reflection staring back at you wasn’t yours. 

It was Giselle’s. 

You scrambled to your feet, nearly tripping over the hem of a silk robe that definitely wasn’t yours. You gripped the edge of the vanity, leaning closer to the mirror. The face staring back at you was flawless—high cheekbones, perfectly winged eyeliner, and lips painted a deep crimson. You reached up to touch her face, and the reflection mimicked you perfectly. 

“No, no, no, this isn’t happening,” You muttered, voice trembling. You pinched her arm, but the sharp pain only confirmed this wasn’t a dream. “Okay, okay, think. You’re Y/N. You’re not Giselle. You’re… not Giselle. So why do you look like her?!”

You paced the room, mind racing. Someone had told you about a special VIP experience backstage. Which led you to wander into a locked dressing room, and then… nothing. Just darkness. And now this. 

A knock at the door made you jump. “Giselle? You in there? We’ve got a run-through in ten.” 

You recognized that voice. It was Sunghoon, the theatre’s lead actor and famous heartthrob. Your stomach churned. If anyone could tell something was off, it would be him. 

“Uh, yeah! Just… give me a second!” You called back, cringing at how unconvincing you sounded. 

The door swung open before you could stop it, and there he was—Park Sunghoon, in all his unfairly handsome glory. He was dressed in a fitted black button-up and tailored slacks, his hair perfectly styled. His sharp eyes narrowed as he took you in. 

“You’re not Giselle,” he said flatly, crossing his arms. 

Your heart skipped a beat. “What? Of course I am! Who else would I be?” 

Sunghoon stepped closer, his gaze piercing. “Giselle doesn’t slouch. She doesn’t fidget. And she definitely doesn’t look like she’s about to pass out from panic.” He tilted his head, studying you. “So, who are you, and what did you do with Giselle?” 

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words caught in your throat. You slumped back onto the chaise lounge, burying your face in your hands. “I don’t know! I don’t know what’s happening! I’m not Giselle—I’m Y/N! I was just… I was just a fan, and now I’m… her!” 

Sunghoon’s expression softened slightly, though he still looked wary. He sat down beside you, keeping a careful distance. “Okay, let’s say I believe you. How did this happen?” 

“I don’t know!” You groaned, running a hand through your hair—err well, Giselle’s hair. “I was backstage, and I found this weird dressing room with a mirror, and then… bam! I woke up like this.” 

Sunghoon frowned. “The locked dressing room? That’s been off-limits for weeks. Jay said it was under renovation.” 

“Well, it wasn’t locked when I found it,” You muttered, glancing at him, eyes pleading. “You have to believe me. I’m not crazy.” 

Sunghoon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re definitely not Giselle. She’d never admit to being crazy, even if she was.” He stood, offering you a hand. “Come on. We need to figure this out before anyone else notices.” 

You hesitated before taking his hand. “Why are you helping me?” 

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Because if you’re telling the truth, this is the most interesting thing that’s happened in this theatre in years. And if you’re lying… well, let’s just say I’ll enjoy watching you try to pull this off.” 

You groaned. “Great. So I’m stuck in Giselle’s body, and my only ally is a guy who thinks this is funny.” 

Sunghoon’s smirk widened. “Welcome to the show, Y/N. Let’s see if you can survive Act One.” 

Sunghoon leaned against the vanity, arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning the room as if it might suddenly reveal its secrets. 

You were still trying to process the fact that you were now living in Giselle’s body—and apparently her life. Which you didn’t even know was possible. This is the type of situation you only read in stories or watched in movies. Not real life. You paced nervously, Giselle’s silk robe swishing dramatically with every step. No biggie, I’ve just swapped bodies with  someone! Perfectly normal Tuesday! Maybe if I fall asleep again I’ll wake up and this will all be a dream!

“Okay, let’s start from the beginning,” Sunghoon said, his tone calm but laced with curiosity. “You’re Y/N. You’re not Giselle. You woke up in her body after messing with a creepy mirror. Did I miss anything?” 

“Uh, yeah,” You snapped, stopping mid-pace to glare at him. “The part where this is a literal nightmare, and I have no idea how to fix it!” 

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Right. Well, while you were busy freaking out, I was thinking. Giselle’s been… off lately. Like, really off.” 

You frowned. “What do you mean?” 

He shrugged, picking up a tube of lipstick from the vanity and twirling it between his fingers. “She’s been missing rehearsals, showing up late, forgetting her lines. And she’s been weirdly secretive. Like, she’d disappear for hours and then act like nothing happened. I tried asking her about it, but she just brushed me off.” 

Your eyes widened. “So you’re saying something was already wrong with her before I got… swapped into her?” 

“Exactly,” Sunghoon said, setting the lipstick down. “And now you’re here, which means whatever’s going on, it’s bigger than just you.” 

You scowled again, sinking back onto the chaise lounge. “Great. So not only am I stuck in someone else’s body, but that someone might be in some kind of trouble? Fantastic. Just fantastic.” 

Sunghoon smirked. “Look on the bright side. At least you’re stuck in the body of a gorgeous, talented star. Could’ve been worse.” 

You shot him a withering look. “Oh, yeah, because this is such a privilege. I’m living the dream.” 

Before Sunghoon could retort, your  eyes landed on something tucked under the edge of the vanity—a small, folded piece of paper. You reached for it, your fingers trembling slightly as you unfolded it. The note was written in elegant, cursive handwriting: 

“The mirror knows the truth. Trust no one.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You held the note out to Sunghoon, who took it with a frown. 

“Well, that’s not ominous at all,” he said dryly, handing it back to you. “Any idea what it means?” 

“No, but it sounds like Giselle knew something was going on,” You said, your mind racing. “Maybe she found out about the mirror and whatever… this is.” You gestured wildly at yourself. 

Sunghoon nodded, his expression serious now. “Okay, so here’s the plan. We figure out what’s going on, reverse whatever this is, and get you back to your body. But we have to be careful. If anyone finds out you’re not Giselle, it’s game over.” 

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who has to pretend to be a world-class actress and singer.” 

Sunghoon grinned, leaning closer. “Relax. I’ll help you. I’ve been acting alongside Giselle for months. I know her better than anyone here.” 

You peeked at him through your fingers. “And why should I trust you? For all I know, you could be the one behind this.” 

He placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Ouch. You wound me. If I wanted to piss off and mess with someone, it definitely wouldn’t be Giselle. Too much drama. I already have enough trying to deal with her on a daily basis.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, despite the absurdity of the situation. “Fine. But if you double-cross me, I’m taking you down with me.” 

“Deal,” Sunghoon said, holding out his hand. You hesitated for a moment before shaking it, his grip firm and reassuring. 

“Alright, partner,” You said, trying to sound confident. “Where do we start?” 

Sunghoon’s grin turned mischievous. “First, we need to get you through rehearsal without blowing your cover. Then, we investigate the mirror and figure out who else might be involved in this. Sound good?” 

You sighed, running a hand through Giselle’s perfectly styled hair. “Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. But what choice do I have?” 

“That’s the spirit!” Sunghoon said, clapping you on the shoulder. “Now, let’s get you to rehearsal before someone starts asking questions. And try to act like Giselle. You know, confident, flawless, and just a little bit terrifying.” 

You sighed, but followed him out of the dressing room, the cryptic note clutched tightly in your hand. As the two of you stepped into the bustling hallway, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you. 

“Sunghoon,” you whispered, glancing over your shoulder. “What if someone here already knows?” 

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “Then we’re in bigger trouble than we thought. But don’t worry. I’ve got your back.” 

You nodded, though your stomach was in knots. You couldn’t help but feel like you were stepping into a role you were nowhere near ready for. 

The moment you stepped out of the dressing room with Sunghoon, the weight of Giselle’s life crashed down on you like a poorly rigged stage light. The hallway was alive with activity—crew members rushing back and forth, actors rehearsing lines, and the faint hum of the orchestra tuning up in the distance. You clutched the mysterious note in your hand, your heart pounding as you tried to remember how to walk like someone who belonged here. 

Sunghoon leaned in, his voice low. “Remember, you’re Giselle. You’ve got this.” 

You shot him a look. “You’re setting the bar a little high, don’t you think?” 

He smirked. “Just channel your inner diva. And try not to freak out.” 

Before you could respond, a voice called out from behind you. 

“Giselle! There you are!” 

You turned to see Jay striding toward you, his signature easygoing smile plastered across his face. As the owner of the theatre and Sunghoon’s best friend, Jay was the kind of guy who seemed to know everyone and everything. His sharp eyes scanned you, and you could feel the weight of his curiosity. 

“Hey, Jay,” you said, forcing a smile. Your voice sounded too high-pitched, too nervous. You cleared your throat and tried again, lowering your tone to match Giselle’s smooth, confident cadence. “What’s up?” 

Jay tilted his head, his smile never wavering. “Just checking in. You’ve been… different lately. Everything okay?” 

You froze. Different? Of course you were different—you weren’t Giselle! But you couldn’t say that. Instead, you forced a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as fake as it felt. “Different? Me? Nah, I’m just… prepping for the big night. You know how it is.” 

Jay’s gaze lingered on you for a moment too long before he nodded. “Right. Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me.” 

As he walked away, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Sunghoon nudged you. “Not bad. But next time, try not to sound like you’re auditioning for a horror movie.” 

You glared at him. “Oh, shut up.” 

Your next encounter was with Yangyang, the theatre’s logistics manager. He was leaning against a stack of prop crates, scrolling through his phone, but his eyes flicked up the moment you approached. 

“Giselle,” he said, his tone casual but his gaze sharp. “Heard you’ve been spending a lot of time in the locked dressing room. Find anything interesting?” 

Your stomach dropped. How did he know about that? You forced a smile, channeling every ounce of Giselle’s confidence. “Just looking for some peace and quiet. You know how it is.” 

Yangyang’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Peace and quiet? In this place? Good luck with that.” He pushed off the crates and walked away, leaving you with the distinct feeling that he knew more than he was letting on. 

Sunghoon leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s always been a little too nosy for his own good. Watch your back around him.” 

You nodded, your nerves fraying with every interaction. 

Then came Soyeon and Yunjin, the theatre’s supporting actress and stand-in, respectively. They were huddled together near the stage, whispering furiously. As you approached, Yunjin’s eyes narrowed, her dislike for Giselle practically radiating off her. 

“Well, look who decided to show up,” Yunjin said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Finally gracing us with your presence, Giselle?” 

You swallowed hard, trying to channel Giselle’s trademark coolness. “Nice to see you too, Yunjin. Soyeon.” 

Soyeon smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “We were just talking about how… dedicated you’ve been to the role lately. It’s inspiring, really.” 

The way she said “dedicated” made your skin crawl. You forced a smile, though your palms were sweating. “Thanks. I try.” 

Yunjin rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, try harder. Some of us actually care about this production.” 

Before you could respond, Soyeon linked arms with Yunjin and pulled her away, shooting you a look that was equal parts pity and disdain. 

Sunghoon appeared at your side, his expression grim. “Yunjin’s never been a fan of Giselle, but that was… intense. What did you do to her?” 

“Me? Nothing!” you hissed. “I’m just trying not to get caught!” 

Your next interaction was with Belle, the theatre’s makeup artist and Jay’s confidant. She was waiting for you in the dressing room, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable. 

“Giselle,” she said, her voice smooth but with an edge that made your stomach twist. “Jay mentioned you’ve been… distracted lately. Anything you want to talk about?” 

You forced a smile, though your heart was racing. “No, everything’s fine. Just prepping for the show.” 

Belle’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you were certain she could see right through you. “You know, if there’s something going on, you can tell me. I’m here to help.” 

The way she said it sounded more like a threat than an offer. You nodded, trying to look grateful. “Thanks, Belle. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

She studied you for a moment longer before nodding. “Good. Don’t forget—we’re all counting on you.” 

As she left, you sank into the nearest chair, your legs trembling. Sunghoon appeared in the doorway, his expression serious. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

You shook your head. “No. Everyone’s so… suspicious. And Belle? She’s terrifying.” 

Sunghoon nodded. “Yeah, she’s not someone to mess with. But you handled it well. Just keep your guard up.” 

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “This is impossible. How am I supposed to keep this up?” 

Sunghoon crouched in front of you, his voice softening. “You’re doing better than you think. Just remember—you’re not alone in this. I’ve got your back.” 

You looked up at him, his steady gaze grounding you. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

He grinned, standing and offering you a hand. “Probably get caught in, like, five minutes. Now come on—we’ve got a mystery to solve.” 

After the nerve-wracking encounters with Jay, Yangyang, Soyeon, Yunjin, and Belle, you were starting to feel like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at any moment. Sunghoon had disappeared to “do some digging,” leaving you to navigate the rest of the theatre’s cast and crew on your own. You took a deep breath, straightened Giselle’s silk robe, and stepped back into the fray.

You found Shotaro in the costume room, meticulously organizing a rack of elaborate gowns. He jumped when you entered, nearly dropping a sequined dress. 

“Giselle!” he said, his voice an octave higher than usual. “What are you doing here?” 

You raised an eyebrow, trying to channel Giselle’s trademark coolness. “Just checking on my costumes for the show. Everything ready?” 

Shotaro nodded quickly, but his hands were shaking as he adjusted the hangers. “Y-yes, of course. Everything’s perfect. Just like always.” 

You hesitated, then decided to push your luck. “By the way, have you heard anything about the locked dressing room? The one near the west wing?” 

Shotaro froze, his face paling. “N-no. Why would I know anything about that?” 

His reaction was so over-the-top that you almost laughed. Almost. “Just curious. It’s been off-limits for weeks, right?” 

He nodded vigorously, avoiding your gaze. “Yes, totally off-limits. No one goes in there. Ever. Definitely not me.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “Right. Well, let me know if you hear anything.” 

As you left, you could feel Shotaro’s anxious gaze burning into your back.

Winwin was Giselle’s supposed confidant, but the moment you approached him, you could tell something was off. He was leaning against a wall backstage, scrolling through his phone, but his eyes flicked up the moment you got close. 

“Giselle,” he said, his tone casual but his gaze sharp. “You’ve been… different lately.” 

You forced a smile, though your heart was racing. “Different? How so?” 

He shrugged, slipping his phone into his pocket. “I don’t know. Just… not yourself. You’ve been avoiding me.” 

You blinked, caught off guard. “Avoiding you? No, I’ve just been busy with the show.” 

Winwin’s expression softened, but there was something in his eyes that made you uneasy. “You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever’s going on, I’m here for you.” 

The sincerity in his voice threw you for a loop. Was he genuinely concerned, or was this some kind of act? You nodded, trying to look grateful. “Thanks, Winwin. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

As you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that his loyalty wasn’t as unwavering as Giselle might have thought.

You found Woozi in the rehearsal room, hunched over a notebook and muttering to himself. He didn’t notice you until you were standing right in front of him. 

“Giselle!” he said, his eyes lighting up. “Just the person I wanted to see. I’ve made some changes to your solo. I think you’ll love them.” 

You forced a smile, though your stomach was in knots. “Changes? What kind of changes?” 

He handed you the notebook, his excitement palpable. “Just a few lyrical tweaks to better reflect your character’s inner turmoil. I think it’ll really elevate your performance.” 

You glanced at the page, your heart sinking at the sight of his intensely scribbled revision notes. “Uh, great. Thanks, Woozi.” 

He leaned in, his gaze intense. “You’re the heart of this production, Giselle. Without you, it’s nothing. Don’t forget that.” 

The weight of his words made you feel like you were carrying the entire theatre on your shoulders. You nodded, trying to look appreciative. “I won’t.” 

As you left, you couldn’t help but feel like Woozi’s obsession with Giselle’s performance was more than just professional.

Your final encounter of the day was with Mark and Heeseung, the theatre’s stuntman and stage control, respectively. They were huddled near the lighting booth, deep in conversation, but Mark’s face lit up when he saw you. 

“Giselle!” he said, grinning. “You’re looking… uh, great as always.” 

You smiled, though your nerves were frayed. “Thanks, Mark. What’s up?” 

He shrugged, his enthusiasm undimmed. “Just going over some stunt sequences for the big fight scene. You should come watch sometime—it’s pretty cool.” 

Before you could respond, Heeseung stepped forward, his expression serious. “Giselle, can I talk to you for a second?” 

You nodded, your stomach twisting. “Sure.” 

Heeseung pulled you aside, his voice low. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you lately, but you need to be careful. Not everyone here has your best interests at heart.” 

You blinked, caught off guard by his bluntness. “What do you mean?” 

He glanced around before leaning in closer. “Just… watch your back. Everyone here… They’re not as trustworthy as they seem. I’m worried about you.”

Before you could ask for more details, Mark called out, “Heeseung! We’ve got work to do!” 

Heeseung gave you one last meaningful look before walking away, leaving you with more questions than answers.

As the day came to an end, you retreated to Giselle’s dressing room, your mind spinning. Everyone seemed to have their own secrets, their own agendas. The only person you could trust was Sunghoon—and even that felt like a gamble. 

You sank into the chaise lounge, staring at the strange note in your hand. “The mirror knows the truth. Trust no one.”

“Easier said than done,” you muttered, closing your eyes. 

You were still staring at the cryptic note when the door to the dressing room creaked open. Sunghoon slipped inside, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said, closing the door behind him. “What happened?” 

You held up the note, your hand trembling slightly. “I talked to everyone. And by ‘talked,’ I mean I barely survived a series of increasingly suspicious and terrifying interactions.” 

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, taking the note from you. “Let me guess: Shotaro looked like he was about to faint, Winwin was weirdly intense, Woozi tried to rewrite the entire show, and Heeseung gave you some cryptic warning?” 

You blinked. “How did you know?” 

He smirked, leaning against the vanity. “Because I’ve been working with these people for years. They’re all… unique.” 

“Unique?” you repeated, incredulous. “Sunghoon, everyone here is either hiding something, hates Giselle, or is way too obsessed with her. I don’t know how she does this every day.” 

He shrugged. “She’s Giselle. She thrives on drama. Speaking of which…” He gestured to the note. “The mirror, huh? ” 

“Yeah, no kidding,” you muttered. “It’s the only lead we’ve got. We need to figure out what’s going on before someone realizes I’m not Giselle.” 

Sunghoon nodded, his gaze shifting to the locked dressing room door. “Alright. Let’s start with the mirror.” 

The two of you made your way to the locked dressing room, the hallway eerily quiet now that rehearsals were over. Sunghoon pulled a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the door with a soft click. 

“Where did you get those?” you whispered. 

He grinned. “Let’s just say I have my ways.” 

The room was exactly as you remembered it—dimly lit, with the antique mirror standing ominously in the corner. You stepped inside, your heart pounding as you approached the mirror. 

“It’s… kind of creepy,” you said, staring at your reflection—or rather, Giselle’s reflection. 

Sunghoon stood beside you, his arms crossed. “Yeah, it’s definitely giving off ‘haunted antique’ vibes. But why would Giselle be so interested in it?” 

You shook your head, your eyes scanning the room for clues. “I don’t know, but there’s got to be something here.” 

As you searched, your foot caught on the edge of a loose floorboard. You crouched down, pulling it up to reveal a hidden compartment. Inside was a torn page from what looked like a diary. 

“Sunghoon,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Look at this.” 

He knelt beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours as he read the page aloud. 

“I made a deal with them. I thought it was worth it—the fame, the glory, the lead role. But now I’m not so sure. The mirror… it’s watching me. I can feel it. If something happens to me, it’s because of them. Trust no one.” 

You looked up at Sunghoon, your stomach churning. “A deal? What kind of deal?” 

He frowned, his brow furrowed in thought. “I don’t know, but it sounds like Giselle got herself into something dangerous. And if the mirror is involved…” 

“Then we’re in way over our heads,” you finished, your voice trembling. 

Sunghoon placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding you. “Hey, we’ll figure this out. Together.” 

You nodded, though your mind was racing. “But where do we even start? Everyone here seems to have their own agenda. Who can we trust?” 

He smirked, his tone lightening. “Well, you can trust me. Mostly.” 

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “Mostly? That’s reassuring.” 

“Hey, I’m the one helping you navigate this mess,” he said, standing and offering you a hand. “That counts for something, right?” 

You took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. “I guess it does. But seriously, I’ll kill you if you throw me under the bus.”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Already noted. Now, let’s get out of here before someone catches us.” 

Back in Giselle’s dressing room, you sank into the chaise lounge, your mind spinning. Sunghoon sat beside you, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos. 

“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “What’s the plan?” 

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t know. But we need to figure out who Giselle made this deal with and what it has to do with the mirror. And we need to do it fast.” 

Sunghoon nodded, his expression serious. “Agreed. But for now, you need to focus on not blowing your cover. The show’s opening night is in two days, and everyone’s counting on Giselle to deliver.” 

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Great. No pressure or anything.” 

He chuckled, nudging you with his shoulder. “You’ve been doing pretty great already. You got this. And I’ll help if I can, remember?” 

You looked up at him, his steady gaze calming your nerves. “Thanks, Sunghoon. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

He grinned, his tone teasing. “Now get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.” 

As he left, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. Despite the danger and the mystery, you weren’t alone. 

You were backstage, nervously rehearsing Giselle’s lines under your breath, when Yunjin cornered you near the prop storage. Her arms were crossed, her expression sharp enough to cut glass.  

“You’re slipping, Giselle,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “Forgot your blocking during the ensemble number yesterday. Missed your cue today. What’s next? Forgetting the lyrics to your precious solo?”  

You forced a laugh, though your palms were sweating. “Relax, Yunjin. It’s called acting. Maybe you should try it sometime.”  

Her eyes narrowed. “Funny. The Giselle I know wouldn’t need to ‘act’ like she knows what she’s doing.” She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “If you’re not up for the role, just say so. Soyeon’s been ready to take over since day one.”  

Before you could retort, Sunghoon materialized at your side, his tone light but edged with warning. “Yunjin, don’t you have an understudy rehearsal to prep for? Or are you too busy auditioning for the role of ‘villain’?”  

Yunjin scoffed, shooting you one last glare before storming off.  

“You okay?” Sunghoon asked, his hand brushing yours briefly.  

You exhaled shakily. “Remind me why Yunjin hates Giselle again?”  

He smirked. “Giselle stole her solo in last year’s production. And her ex-boyfriend. And, according to rumors, her favorite coffee order.”  

You groaned. “Of course she did.”  

Later, while Sunghoon distracted the crew, you slipped into Jay’s office. The room was eerily tidy, save for a stack of financial ledgers on his desk. You flipped through them, heart pounding, until a voice froze you mid-page.  

“Looking for something?”  

Belle stood in the doorway, her posture relaxed but her eyes cold. You dropped the ledger like it was on fire.  

“Just… admiring Jay’s organizational skills!” you said, forcing a smile. “Who knew spreadsheets could be so… thrilling?”  

Belle stepped inside, closing the door softly behind her. “Curiosity is dangerous in a place like this, Giselle. Especially when it’s not your business.”  

You swallowed hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

She leaned against the desk, her red nails tapping the ledger. “Let me be clear: whatever game you’re playing, stop. This theatre survives because people stay in their lanes. You’d do well to remember yours.”  

The threat hung in the air like smoke. Before you could respond, she turned on her heel and left, her parting words slicing through the silence: “Stay out of the dark, Giselle. It’s easier to get lost there than you think.” 

That night, you met Sunghoon in the empty auditorium to compare notes.  

“Belle’s definitely hiding something,” you whispered, pacing the aisle. “And Jay’s ledgers had weird entries—large payments to ‘Anonymous Benefactors.’ What does that even mean?”  

Sunghoon frowned. “It means we’re dealing with someone who’s got money—and secrets. Did you—”  

A sudden clatter of scaffolding made you both freeze. Mark emerged from the shadows, his face pale.  

“Giselle? Sunghoon?” he said, glancing between you. “What are you guys doing here so late?”  

You plastered on a smile. “Just… rehearsing! You know how Sunghoon is about perfection.”  

Mark hesitated, his gaze lingering on the file in Sunghoon’s hand. “Rehearsing… with financial records?”  

Sunghoon stepped forward smoothly. “It’s method acting, Mark. Giselle’s character is a corrupt CEO. Very gritty. Very real.”  

Mark blinked. “Oh. Cool, I guess? Just… be careful, okay? Heeseung said there’ve been weird noises backstage at night.”  

As he walked away, you slumped into a seat. “We are terrible at this.”  

Sunghoon grinned. “Nah. We’re just… creatively challenged.”  

By the time you returned to Giselle’s dressing room, exhaustion and panic had merged into a dizzying haze. Sunghoon followed you inside, his usual smirk replaced by genuine concern.  

“We’re running out of time,” you said, sinking onto the couch. “If we don’t figure this out before opening night…”  

“We will,” Sunghoon interrupted, crouching in front of you. “But you need to breathe. Freaking out won’t help Giselle—or you.”  

You met his gaze, his steadiness anchoring you. “What if we can’t fix this? What if I’m stuck like… this?”  

He hesitated, then reached for your hand. “Then I’ll teach you how to hit Giselle’s high notes. And how to glare at Yangyang without laughing. And—”  

You snorted, swatting his arm. “You’re impossible.”  

“But you’re smiling,” he said softly.  

The moment hung between you, charged and fragile—until a sharp knock shattered it.  

“Giselle?” Jay’s voice called through the door. “We need to talk. Now.”  

Sunghoon squeezed your hand once before slipping out the window, leaving you alone to face the storm.  

The moment Jay stepped into Giselle’s dressing room, the air thickened with tension. He closed the door softly behind him, his usual friendly demeanor replaced by a chilling calm.  

“Let’s skip the act, Giselle,” he said, leaning against the vanity. “You’ve been digging where you shouldn’t. Ledgers. The mirror. Our deal.”  

You froze, your pulse roaring in your ears. Our deal. The words from Giselle’s diary page flashed in your mind. I made a deal with them. You forced yourself to meet Jay’s gaze, channeling every ounce of Giselle’s steel.  

“You think I’d forget our arrangement?” you said, your voice steady despite the storm inside. “I’m just making sure you’re holding up your end.”  

Jay’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, I’ve held up my end. You’re the star, aren’t you? The spotlight, the adoration—all because of me. But now you’re sniffing around like a lost puppy. Why?”  

You crossed your arms, mimicking Giselle’s signature icy poise. “Maybe I don’t like being kept in the dark. The mirror, the payments to ‘Anonymous Benefactors’… What’s the price you mentioned in our deal, Jay?”  

His expression darkened. For a heartbeat, you saw it—the flicker of fear beneath his polished façade. “The price,” he said slowly, “is silence. You wanted the role, I gave it to you. But if you keep pushing, that mirror won’t be the only thing that disappears.”  

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “Finish the show. Play your part. Or I’ll make sure you regret ever stepping into this theatre.”  

The door slammed behind him, leaving you trembling.  

You found Sunghoon in the prop loft, sorting through dusty set designs. The second you relayed Jay’s threats, his playful smirk vanished.  

“A deal for the lead role,” he muttered, pacing. “That explains why Giselle’s been so paranoid. But what’s the mirror got to do with it?”  

You pulled out the torn diary page and the ledger notes. “Jay’s been funneling money to someone—or something. And Giselle wrote that the mirror was ‘watching’ her. What if the deal wasn’t just with Jay? What if it’s… older?”  

Sunghoon’s eyes widened. “The theatre’s original owner disappeared decades ago. Rumor was he made a pact with some cursed object to keep the place running.” He grabbed your hand, urgency in his grip. “The mirror. It’s not just a prop—it’s the source. Jay’s using it to control things… and Giselle was part of it.”  

You stared at the diary entry. “If something happens to me, it’s because of them.” “She was going to expose him,” you realized. “That’s why she was acting strange. Jay found out, and he—or whatever’s tied to that mirror—swapped our bodies to silence her.”  

Sunghoon cursed under his breath. “And now you’re stuck in the crosshairs. If we don’t break this curse before opening night, you might be trapped like this forever… or worse.”  

Back in the dressing room, you and Sunghoon spread the clues across the floor: the diary page, the ledger, a faded newspaper article about the theatre’s cursed history.  

“So Jay’s the middleman,” Sunghoon said, tapping the article. “But the real power’s in the mirror. It demands a ‘price’—probably souls or some messed-up supernatural rent.”  

You grimaced. “Giselle paid with hers, didn’t she? That’s why she’s gone. And now the mirror wants… me?”  

Sunghoon’s jaw tightened. “Not if I can help it. We need to find the original pact. If we destroy it, maybe we break the curse.”  

You hesitated. “What if it’s not enough? What if we’re already too late?”  

He turned to you, his gaze fierce. “Then we’ll burn the whole theatre down. But I’m not losing you to this.”  

The intensity in his voice made your breath catch. Before you could respond, a crash echoed from the hallway—the sound of shattered glass.  

Sunghoon pulled you to your feet. “Time’s up. Let’s move.”  

You and Sunghoon stormed into Jay’s office, the ledger and Giselle’s diary clutched in your hands. Jay looked up from his desk, his expression unreadable.  

“We know about the mirror,” Sunghoon said, his voice colder than you’d ever heard it. “And the deal. How could you do this, Jay? To Giselle? To us?”  

Jay leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “You think I wanted this? The mirror’s curse has been hanging over this theatre for decades. I didn’t create it—I inherited it. Giselle knew the risks when she made her deal.”  

You slammed the ledger onto his desk. “Risks? You sold her soul for a lead role?”  

Jay’s calm cracked. “I didn’t swap her!” he snapped, standing abruptly. “I tried to protect her. But she got greedy. She wanted out of the deal, and threatened to expose everything. And then—”  

The door swung open. Belle stood in the doorway, her smile sharp as a knife. “And then I stepped in.”  

Sunghoon stiffened. “Belle?”  

She strode into the room, her heels clicking like a countdown. “Jay’s too sentimental. He couldn’t stomach what needed to be done. But me?” She laughed, cold and hollow. “I’ve been cleaning up his messes for years.”  

You stepped forward, fists trembling. “What did you do to Giselle?”  

Belle’s gaze locked onto yours, venomous and triumphant. “That night she tried to destroy the mirror? I caught her. And I gave her a taste of her own medicine. Why let her soul vanish when I could trap it somewhere… quieter?” She pulled a small, ornate compact from her pocket—a shard of the mirror glinting inside. “Like that nobody body of yours.”  

The air left your lungs. “You—you swapped us. You’re the one who put me here.”  

Belle smirked. “Guilty. Though I must say, watching you fumble around as Giselle has been delightful. Almost makes me want to keep you here forever.”  

Sunghoon moved in front of you, blocking Belle’s path. “Where’s Giselle’s soul now?”  

“Somewhere she can’t cause trouble,” Belle said lightly. “A body with no connections, no power. A nobody.” She turned to Jay, her tone hardening. “You’re welcome, by the way. I saved your precious theatre.”  

Jay looked away, guilt etched into every line of his face.  

Sunghoon lunged for the compact, but Belle jerked it out of reach. “Ah-ah,” she tutted. “Break this, and Giselle’s soul shatters with it. Along with your little friend here.”  

You froze, panic clawing up your throat. Sunghoon shot Jay a searing look. “You knew. This whole time, you knew.”  

Jay’s voice broke. “I tried to stop her, Sunghoon. But the mirror… it demands a price. If it wasn’t Giselle, it would’ve been someone else. Maybe you.”  

Sunghoon recoiled like he’d been slapped. “We were supposed to be family.”  

“We are,” Jay pleaded. “That’s why I kept you out of it. Belle’s right—I’m weak. But I never wanted this.”  

Belle rolled her eyes. “Save the drama for the stage. The show goes on tonight, and Giselle—or whatever’s left of her—will play her part. As for you two?” She nodded to the security guards looming in the hallway. “You’ll stay out of the way. Or I’ll make sure Y/N’s body ends up in the river.”  

Locked in a storage closet, you sank to the floor, trembling. Belle said she would let the two of you out soon. She just couldn’t have you telling others and needed you to learn your lesson, whatever that meant. Sunghoon paced like a caged animal, his usual composure shattered.  

“All this time,” he muttered, “Jay let her do this. He chose the theatre over us. Over everything.”  

You hugged your knees to your chest. “We can’t let her win. Giselle’s still out there—trapped in my body. We have to find her.”  

Sunghoon crouched in front of you, his eyes blazing. “We will. But we need a new plan. And we need to move fast.”  

You glanced at the door. “How? Belle’s got the mirror shard. And Jay’s under her thumb.”  

A slow, defiant grin spread across Sunghoon’s face. “Then we play their game. You go onstage tonight as Giselle. We’ll find the compact. And when the curtain falls…”  

“We destroy the mirror for good,” you finished.  

He nodded. “Together.”  

You hesitated, then reached for his hand. “Sunghoon… Thank you. For not giving up on me.”  

His fingers tightened around yours. “Always.” 

The theatre buzzed with the energy of a packed house, the orchestra tuning up as the audience settled into their seats. Backstage, chaos reigned—actors in glittering costumes darted past, crew members shouted over headsets, and the scent of hairspray hung thick in the air. You stood in Giselle’s sequined gown, clutching Sunghoon’s arm like a lifeline.  

“You ready?” he asked, adjusting his cufflinks with forced calm.  

“To sing a solo in French while secretly planning a magical heist? Totally,” you deadpanned. “What’s the worst that could happen?”  

Sunghoon grinned, though tension lined his eyes. “Don’t answer that. Just stick to the plan: distract Belle, find the compact, smash the mirror. ”  

“And try not to die,” you added.  

“Especially that.”  

You found Belle in the locked dressing room, her back turned as she polished the cursed mirror with a reverence that made your skin crawl. The compact containing Giselle’s soul glinted in her hand.  

“Leaving so soon?” she said without turning around. “The show hasn’t even started.”  

You stepped inside, channeling Giselle’s icy confidence. “I thought we could chat. Girl to girl. Demon to… whatever you are.”  

Belle smirked, snapping the compact shut. “Cute. But you’re terrible at bluffing.”  

“Good thing I’m not the one bluffing,” you said, nodding to the doorway.  

Sunghoon lunged, tackling Belle to the ground. The compact skidded across the floor as the two grappled, Belle’s nails clawing at his arms.  

“Traitor!” she hissed. “You’d choose this traitor over your own family?”  

“Girl, you are not my family. And family doesn’t sell souls,” Sunghoon shot back, dodging her swipe.  

You scrambled for the compact, but Belle kicked a makeup case into your path. Lipsticks and powder exploded into the air, coating everything in a shimmering haze.  

“Sunghoon.” you yelled, choking on glitter.  

“A little busy here!” he grunted, pinning Belle’s wrists.  

You dove for the compact, your fingers brushing its edge just as Belle wrenched free. She slammed into the mirror, her reflection warping grotesquely in the glass.  

“You want Giselle back?” Belle snarled, clutching the compact. “Then take her!”  

She hurled it at the mirror. The glass rippled like water, and for a heartbeat, you saw your body—Giselle’s soul trapped inside—staring back, terrified.  

“NO!” Sunghoon tackled Belle again, but the compact shattered against the mirror’s surface. A deafening crack split the air, and the room plunged into swirling shadows.  

You stumbled forward, grasping for Sunghoon’s hand. “The mirror—it’s breaking!”  

“Then let’s help it along!” he shouted, snatching a fire extinguisher off the wall.  

You grabbed a prop sword from the corner, swinging it at the mirror with a battle cry that was more terrified than terrifying. Flames emerged, stretching across the drywood flood, seemingly out of nowhere. The blade struck the glass just as Sunghoon slammed the extinguisher into it.  

The mirror exploded.  

You woke with a jolt, your head throbbing as if you’d been spun through a tornado. The world came into focus slowly—sticky theater seats, the murmur of an impatient crowd, and the faint scent of popcorn. Your hands flew to your face, your real face, and you nearly sobbed with relief.  

“Oh, thank god.” you muttered, staring at your familiar hoodie sleeves.  

Onstage, the orchestra swelled, and the curtain rose to reveal Giselle—the real Giselle—commanding the spotlight in her sequined gown. She moved with effortless grace, her voice sharp and clear, no trace of the chaos that had nearly destroyed her. For a moment, your eyes met across the auditorium. She gave the faintest nod, her gaze lingering with unspoken gratitude, before launching into her solo.  

After the final bow, you lurked in the shadows backstage, unsure where to go now that you were no longer the star. Sunghoon found you first, still in his stage makeup and looking like he’d fought a war.  

“There you are,” he said, breathless. “I’d recognize that bad posture anywhere. You okay?”  

“Fuck you.” You scowled, but couldn’t help but grin, holding up your hands. “Ten fingers, ten toes, and zero cursed mirrors. I’d call that a win.”  

Before he could reply, Giselle swept into the wings, her presence magnetic even without the spotlight. The cast and crew froze, sensing the storm in her eyes.  

“Belle,” Giselle said, her voice cutting through the silence. “You owe us all an explanation. Starting with why you trapped me in a stranger’s body and tried to bury the truth.”  

Belle stepped forward, her composure cracking. “You were going to ruin everything! This theatre survives because of that mirror—”  

“It survives in spite of it,” Giselle snapped. She turned to the stunned crowd, her tone softening. “Jay and Belle made a deal with something darker than any of us realized. They used fear to control us. But tonight?” She gestured to the shattered remains of the mirror, now being wheeled offstage by stagehands. “Tonight, we break the cycle.”  

Jay emerged from the shadows, his face ashen. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice breaking. “To all of you. But especially to you, Sunghoon.”  

Sunghoon crossed his arms, his usual smirk absent. “Save it. You don’t get to play the victim here.”  

Giselle stepped between them, her glare silencing Jay. “You’re done. Both of you.”  

Later, as the crew dispersed and the theatre emptied, you lingered by the stage door with Sunghoon. Giselle approached, her regal demeanor softened by exhaustion.  

“Thank you,” she said, clasping your hand. “You risked everything to save a life you didn’t owe me.”  

You shrugged, awkward but earnest. “Just… try not to steal anyone’s coffee order ever again.”  

Giselle laughed, a rare, genuine sound. “No promises.” She turned to Sunghoon, her gaze knowing. “Take care of her. She’s braver than she looks.”  

Sunghoon saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”  

As Giselle left, you elbowed him. “Take care of me? You literally threw a fire extinguisher at a mirror tonight instead of using it to put out the fire..”  

“And you swung a prop sword like it was a pool noodle,” he shot back. “We’re a mess. But hey—” He nudged you, nodding to the stage. “You never did get to perform. Want to try that solo?”  

You snorted. “In this lifetime? Absolutely not.”  

He grinned, pulling you toward the exit. “Smart.”  

The theatre’s grand lobby buzzed with nervous energy as the cast and crew gathered for Jay’s announcement. He stood at the top of the staircase, his usual charm replaced by a somber resolve.  

“Effective immediately,” Jay said, voice steady but strained, “I’m stepping down as owner. Sunghoon will take over.”  

A ripple of surprise spread through the crowd. Sunghoon, leaning casually against a pillar, straightened up like he’d been electrocuted. “Wait—what?”  

Jay tossed him a set of keys, a faint smirk breaking through his guilt. “Don’t look so thrilled. You’ve been complaining about my leadership for years. Now fix it.”  

Sunghoon caught the keys, staring at them like they might bite. “You’re insane. I don’t know the first thing about running a theatre.”  

“You’ll figure it out,” Jay said, clapping him on the shoulder. “And… try not to burn it down.”  

As the crowd dispersed, Sunghoon turned to you, panic flickering in his eyes. “Help. Please.”  

You grinned. “Only if you promise free popcorn for life.”  

Later, as the two of you surveyed the empty auditorium, Sunghoon nudged you with his elbow. “So. Audition slots are open. You’ve already survived being Giselle—might as well try being yourself onstage.”  

You snorted. “Tempting, but I think I’ll stick to not nearly dying in cursed mirrors, thanks.”  

He tilted his head, studying you with a sudden intensity. “You know… I never actually saw what you looked like before. Giselle’s body was all… Giselle. But you?” His gaze swept over you, lingering on your face. “You’re… distracting.”  

You raised an eyebrow. “Distracting?”  

“Yeah. Like, annoyingly pretty. How am I supposed to focus on rebuilding this place if you’re just… standing there?”  

Your cheeks burned, but you rolled your eyes. “Wow, Park. That might be the worst compliment I’ve ever heard.”  

He stepped closer, his smirk softening. “I’ll work on it. But seriously—stay. Even if you don’t audition. The theatre needs people who aren’t obsessed with cursed antiques. And I…” He trailed off, uncharacteristically hesitant. “I need someone to keep me from setting fire to the prop room.”  

You laughed, the sound echoing in the empty space. “You’re hopeless.”  

“Hopelessly charming,” he corrected, grinning.  

“Debatable.”  

Before he could retort, you grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him. It was quick, impulsive, and left him blinking in stunned silence.  

“There,” you said, stepping back. “Now you can’t talk.”  

Sunghoon touched his lips, his ears turning pink. “…Okay, that worked better than I expected.”  

Weeks later, the theatre hummed with new energy. Rehearsals for the next production were underway, and Sunghoon’s leadership—though chaotic—had brought a fresh, unjaded spirit to the crew. You’d taken a part-time job managing schedules (and keeping Sunghoon from accidentally hiring a ‘magician’ for lighting design), but tonight, as you passed the old west wing, a flicker of light caught your eye.  

The locked dressing room door stood slightly ajar.  

Heart pounding, you pushed it open. The room was empty, save for one thing: the mirror, whole and unbroken, its surface gleaming like it had never been shattered.  

“Sunghoon!” you yelled, backing away.  

He skidded into the room, fire extinguisher in hand. “What? Where’s the fire—oh.”  

You pointed at the mirror. “We broke that thing! I watched it explode!”  

Sunghoon set down the extinguisher, staring at the glass. “Guess some curses don’t stay dead.”  

“That’s not comforting.”  

He slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Don’t worry. We’ve got time. And this time?” He kissed your temple, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m charging the audience extra for our trauma.”  

You elbowed him, but couldn’t suppress a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”  

“And you’re stuck with me,” he said, steering you out of the room. “Now come on. We’ve got a theatre to run… and maybe a sequel to avoid.”  

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