#if you see this and if you decide to listen to ANY of the songs i post

[luvhcarly]

WANNA REPEAT IT, ANGEL?

You've never listened to rock music, but when your sister forces you to go to a concert with her, you find yourself drooling over the band's lead singer

PAIRINGS: rockstar Song Mingi x fem!reader

GENRE: smut, strangers to fuck buddies?

TAGS: Mingi has a blonde hair!, smut 18+, smoking, blowjob, cum swallowing, pet names (slut, whore, angel…), swearing, lmk if I missed anything.

WC: 6k

A/N: I was thinking about a rockstar Mingi for a loong time so I decided to write something. Even though I am not satisfied enough with it. Please English is not my first language so if you find any mistakes, lmk! <3

© All rights reserved luvhcarly do not copy, repost, or translate.

"Can't you take another friend, Harin?" You answered with disinterest in her voice while your younger sister begged on knees. Tears started welling up in her eyes and she put her hands in a pleading position.

"No, others don't listen to it. They would brag about how the music is bad…" Your sister admitted, still looking at you with pleading eyes. A small sigh escaped out of your mouth and you rolled your eyes, wondering if you should nod and make yourself a scapegoat. But when she looked again at you, her eyes brimming with tears, you nod. “Fine. I will go." Your sister screamed excitedly and jumped into the air with joy. She wiped her tears with her hand and immediately wrapped her arms around your neck.

"You are the best!" Your sister said as she left a quick kiss on your cheek. She suddenly pulled away from you and with little jumping steps she goes to her closet, looking for her outfit.

I am gonna kill myself…

-

When you and your sister entered the small bar where the concert is to be held, you ordered a drink that would maybe encourage you to survive here. Your sister was smiling from ear to ear when you guys entered the bar and immediately there was a rock atmosphere in the air that she was very much looking forward to.

"I can't believe that I am here!" She blurted out excitedly as she looked around, people were already standing at the barricade, but there weren't too many of them. You even arrived early so you guys could get better view.

"Come on!" She grabbed your hand with a small grin on her face and she pushed you through the crowd of people to the front of the barricade. A small unhappy sigh came out from your lips. You held a drink in your hand and calmly sipped from it. Annoyed, you redirected your gaze to the watch on your hand and you bit your lower lip when you thought about that the concert will start in an hour.

"Hold my drink. I am going to the bathroom.” You gave your sister your drink and you started to rush through the crowd to the bathroom. Quickly, you walked down the dark corridor,looking around, observing everything.

"Oh shit! I am sorry." Suddenly, you bumped into tall, big figure and your favourite shirt is all wet. You looked at yourself and a big sigh escaped from your lips, then you slowly shifted your gaze at the guy who bumped into you. Or more; you bumped into him. His blond hair was slicked back slightly and he had black glasses, that covered his eyes. He was quite attractive no doubt, even though you couldn’t see his full face properly.

"Well, it was my fault. I am sorry.” You blurted out and shook your head at your own clumsiness. The guy smiled at you nicely and fixed his glasses. Your gaze shifted to his drink, which was completely spilled. "Let me- let me buy you a drink?" Awkwardly, you cleared your throat a little and looked at him with an embarrassed expression, waiting for his answer. He smirked at your question. "I mean, because of how I spilled the drink." You explained so that it wouldn't sound weird, but he found your stuttering cute and at the same time funny, but he politely rejected you.

“Maybe later?” He raised his eyebrows a little to emphasize the question, he looked you over with his eyes. The black crop top with a special inscription, which he couldn't quite read, was completely soaked and there were a few wet spots on your denim skirt as well. Your hair was down and you had a nervous and embarrassed look on your face.

"Yeah- okay." Loudly, you swallowed at his suggestion and nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. The boy walked past you, his grin never slipping out of shape. When he walked past you, you immediately smelled a spicy perfume. It is strange that you felt so nervous about nothing. Well, it was probably because you felt ashamed that you spilled his drink...

A small sigh escaped your lips and you look at the clock, which showed 8:55PM, which meant that the concert would start in 5 minutes. You shook your head at the fact that you didn't even have time to go to the bathroom. So quickly, you directed your steps back to your sister, who was scanning you from head to toe.

"What happened?" Your sister asked you when she saw your t-shirt completely wet and your restless expression on the shapes. "I bumped into someone." You informed her as you gently leaned against the barricade while your sister laughed at your clumsiness. "You are so clumsy." She remarked with a laugh and also leaned against the barricade next to you, comfy. Suddenly the big lights shut off and only those on the small stag were lit. Yours sister heart raced with impatience and she squeezed your hand tightly.

8 boys dressed in rock style appeared on the stage. Your sister, was looking at them with hearts in her eyes, admiring them and devouring them with her eyes.

“He is my favourite.” Your sister whispered in her ear and pointed to a boy you recognized. He was the boy you bumped into. "He is the main singer, Mingi." Your sister added and you slightly opened your lips when your realized that you had bumped into the lead singer. Your face was tense and you felt even more embarrassed than before.

His glasses were rested on his head this time, and when his eyes met yours, he grinned. Quickly, you looked away and took a deep breath, while your sister was carried away by the fact that she finally sees them. The concert started suddenly, screams were heard and rock music played that probably could be heard outside too.

The fans enthusiastically shouted the lyrics of the songs and you hummed to the rhythm of the music and danced with your body a little, but not too much, because you didn’t know the lyrics. Their music was good, not what you listen to casually but you kind of enjoyed it, while your sister was jumping around like a wild woman with huge joy in her eyes.

The whole concert you had your eyes fixed on the blond boy named Mingi who was holding the microphone and enjoying the moment. He was gripping the microphone tightly making his muscle arm tense a little.

He loved when the girls around him shouted and cheered. He enjoyed the attention from them. He scanned the crowd of people with his eyes, hoping that out of the corner of his eye he would see you; the girl who bumped into him. When he saw you humming to the rhythm of the music, but not singing, it completely froze him. Well, he couldn't help but notice the small smile on your face.

“How are you guys feeling tonight?” The blonde boy behind the microphone asked out loud to the crowd of people with a grin on his face. People screamed and jumped with joy, trying to indicate that they felt great.

"Come on, louder!" He repeats his words with a slightly rougher voice. You swallow loudly when he screams. A chill ran down your spine at that moment, you were shocked that he screamed like that, you really didn't expect it. Well, it triggered something in you. You found it hot? You didn't even know what feelings it caused in you, but the truth was that you enjoyed that…Again the crowd shouts, but this time louder to make him more satisfied. He laughs at the loud shouts of the people and starts singing a song.

The concert did not last long, at least an hour, but your younger sister still wanted to stay here. The after party was supposed to be held here, but you insisted that you two agreed to go home after the concert, no exceptions.

"Please?" She smiled pityingly at you while holding your hand. You knew that she was doing it because she wanted to play on your feelings, it was nothing unusual that your young sister wouldn't do. A small sigh escaped your lips, nervously running a hand through your own hair, then you closed your eyes to take a deep breath.

“Fine- but! Only one hour, then we are leaving.” Finally, you agreed again, because you could not resist her. You didn't like that about your sister, that she always knew how to break you. She always knew how to convince you of something, and she knew it well. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank u!” She hung around your neck with a huge smile and repeated herself in a happy voice.

"I'm going to smoke outside. Don't cause any trouble.” You informed her and with a warning you pointed a finger at her, but she just laughed and directed her steps towards the small crowd of people who were dancing.

…

"Fuck-" You let out as soon as you appeared outside. Variously, you leaned your body against the wall and took out a pack of cigarettes from your purse. You took out one cigarette from there and put it between your lips. You lit it and took a long drag. With a tired sigh, you also leaned your head against the cold wall and closed your eyes, enjoying the cigarette.

“Do you have a lighter?” A familiar boy's voice broke you out of your thoughts. You opened your eyes immediately and redirected your gaze to him. It was him. Again. His blond hair was messy now and he was wearing a leather jacket that suited him well. You swallowed and took out a lighter from your purse, which you handed to him, your fingers brushing softly against each other.

“Enjoyed the show?” With a low voice he asked, leaning himself against the wall beside you, with a cigarette in his hand. You exhaled the cigarette smoke and looked ahead, while he was still watching you. He watched how your lips parted every time you put a cigarette between them and how you took a big drag from it, as if you wanted to smoke it right away. "I have a feeling that you didn't come here willingly." He thought for a moment when he realised that you were quiet the whole concert and you just listened, and hummed to the rhythm of the music.

"Well, I came here with my younger sister." You confessed and took a drag of your cigarette again, it seemed strange to you that he was talking to you so… casually?

"I am sorry about spilling your drink earlier." You looked at him properly for the first time. This time, he didn’t have sunglasses on at all, so you looked into his dark brown eyes. But his eyes also said something else. Something you couldn’t quite place. Something that made you look at him even better. His eyebrow was decorated with a small jewel, which made him even more attractive than he really was.He noticed how you stared at him, how you observed him and a small chuckle comes from his lips. What caused you to immediately realize that you had been looking at him for too long and so you redirected your gaze down to the ground. He didn’t respond to your apology.

"Ahh, that girl beside you?" He asked with a grin and took a drag from his cigarette, his eyes were directed in front of him, but still he was watching you out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah, she is just so obsessed with your band. Especially with you.” You let out a small laugh as you replayed how she screamed when he sang every time.

"Oh, really?” With a raised eyebrow, he asked.

"Yeah" He shook his head at your response and he let out a small Ah. “What about you?” He mumbled as if he didn’t want to you to hear him.

"Me?" You laughed to yourself while he took a drag on his cigarette. “I don’t think I have a favourite one.” When you admitted the truth, his smile fade as if he wished you would say his name.

"What about your drink?" Suddenly, you asked as he took a drag from his cigarette once again. He raised his eyebrows again at your question and redirected his gaze to you. You had a kind expression on the shapes and one corner of your mouth was slightly raised. "Ah, the drink." His eyes fell on your top, which was completely wet before, but now it was dry. "Well..." He thought for a moment, while you waited patiently for his answer. "A name would be nice, instead of buying me a drink." He gave out and then added; "and a phone number?"

"Phone number?" You blinked at his request and he smirked at you, blowing a cigarette smoke in your face. "Yes, your phone number." He repeated it while watching your surprised expression. His eyes drifted to your full lips, but then he looked into your eyes again. Then he reached into his pants pocket, trying to find his phone, but when he didn't find it, he sighed.

“I must have left it at my dressing room.” He informed, and you cleared your throat and you actually felt relieved. It would be weird if you gave him your number, wouldn't it? He leaned his head against the wall and thought that if it would be a good idea to leave you standing here and go get his phone and hope that you would wait. Or take you with him?

You watched his thoughtful expression and how his muscles tensed as he thought deeply. The way his chest heaved with every little breath.

"I'm waiting for the name." He interrupted you from observation and you jumped a little. Immediately, directing your eyes to the ground, but you watched him out of the corner of your eye and you noticed his rings on his fingers. There were only a couple of them, one of them had a star, which made you smile gently. “Y/n.” With a little smile you replied as he nodded his head and said it quietly to himself, tasting it on his tongue.

"I know." You overtookhim when you saw how his mouth opened slightly wanting to say his name, but then in an instant he closed it and smiled.

“I feel flattered when you know my name.” You set your lips in a thin line and paid attention only to him, when he winked at you you right away looked away, feeling awkward. Embarrassed because you spilled his drink, him winking at you, looking at you with those eyes… and because you find him very attractive. Mingi threw the cigarette that he finished on the ground and stepped on it with his shoe.

"Come with me." Mingi pushed his body away from the wall and shook his head to follow him. "Where?" You asked incomprehensibly, but still followed him and increased your pace to catch up. "To grab my phone." He laughed at your confusion as soon as you increased your pace and appeared near him, immediately your cherry perfume hit his nostrils.

He walked slowly into his dressing room and he closed the door behind you. You scanned the room awkwardly. The room was small, there was a single bed and a rack with clothes. You didn't even know why you went with him at all. But you couldn't refuse him. There was something about him that made you listen to him and not protest.

“So?” With a low voice, Mingi spoke from behind you and you turned around to face him, him holding his phone. Your eyes fell on his phone nervously, but you took it in your hands and hesitated.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You told him and went to give him the phone back, but he didn't take it and kept looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"You owe me, remember?" He tilted his head to the side, still waiting for you to type your number in his phone. You sighed loudly and swallowed and finally typed the phone number into his phone, at which he grinned.

"Thank you." He winked and put his phone in the back pocket of his pants. "Do you have a boyfriend?" He suddenly asked what surprised you. You cleared your throat and he moved closer to you, but left some space between you so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable.

“No.” You pursed your lips and looked to the side. He was kind of relieved when you told him that you are single. His gaze shifted to your lips once again, he nodded his head with a smirk on his face. Mingi noticed how one strand of your hair was sticking out, so he reached out one hand and tucked that hair behind your ear. His fingers gently touched your face as you bit your lower lip. For a long time, he looked into your eyes, as if he thought about what to do next.

"I like your eyes." He confessed, which immediately made your face red. Why did you feel so nervous? And why was his touch so gentle? His eyes slid to your lips again and the way you nervously bit them, which completely threw him off. But in a good way.

He usually brought girls after the show. It was nothing unusual for him. But he always went for it quickly, not like now. He didn't know why his heart was beating so fast, as if he was afraid that one bad step would ruin everything.

"Would you mind if I kissed you?" He asked you and moved closer to you, placing his hand on your chin and lifting it up so he could observe you better. Watching how your lips gently parted and how you nervously scanned his shape with your eyes. Your eyes widened at his question. Of course you wouldn’t mind, but you should. He was famous, and you didn’t even know him.

“N-no.” But still, you answered this quietly as if you weren't sure of your answer. He brought his lips closer to yours, but he didn't kiss you. Your heart started beating a little faster and breathing was harder than before. "Are you sure?" He grinned and his lips brushed against yours, his scent, which was pleasant and spicy, entered your nostrils when he leaned closer.

“Just kiss me." You muttered and his arm wrapped around your waist pulling you closer. In your mind you were cursing at yourself because, fuck… kissing a random guy you just met? You didn’t do that. But he was like a magnet that you couldn’t pull away from. You wanted him to kiss you.

Your bodies were dangerously close to each other, not even an inch between you was left. He didn't hesitate at your sentence and pressed his wet, full lips to yours.

At first, the kiss was soft and pleasent, as if he was afraid that he would hurt you, but when you sighed into to his mouth, he started to get more hard in his pants. He held your waist tightly with one hand and put the other on your ass and squeezed it. Your mouth fell open at the contact of his hand with your ass and he took it as a good opportunity to stick his tongue in your mouth.

His tongue explored your mouth slowly at first, but when he felt your body press closer to him, he deepened it. Your tongues were touching against each other and he began to lead you to the bed with slow steps. When your knees felt the bed, you didn't sit down, but you put your hand on his chest and stopped him.

"Wait-" you stopped him while you were both breathing rapidly. "What?" He asked with an uncomprehending expression on the shapes, but when he saw how you knelt down in front of him and how you looked at him with those innocent eyes, he swallowed loudly. You unbuttoned his black jeans with your fingers and maintained eye contact with him.

“Fuck, angel.” He groaned and he leaned back slightly, giving you space to work. His hand rested on your head as you pulled down his jeans and boxers in one swift motion. Your eyes widened when you saw his hard cock, begging to be touched. He chuckled at your reaction, his face flushed with desire. Slowly, he ran a hand through your hair. "Impressed?" He smirked, knowing damn well you were. He shifted slightly, displaying it better. "You gonna touch it?" He asked in a low, teasing voice.

“Do you want me to?” You teased back, while he let out a deep, throaty laugh, one hand maintaining its grip in your hair. "Sassy tonight, aren't we?” He shifted forward slightly, his cock practically touching your lips.

"Come on then, angel. Show me what that smart mouth can do besides talk shit.” The way he talked to you made you squeeze your thighs to maintain the throbbing feeling between your legs. When your tongue made contact with his tip, Mingi inhaled sharply, a shudder running through his body. His fingers tightened slightly in your hair, encouraging your teasing. "Fuck, that's teasing..." He growled softly, his hips twitching forward involuntarily, seeking more of your touch.

“Impatient much?” With a teasing voice you pulled away, watching his eyebrows furrow as he felt no more presence of your tongue. He let out a frustrated sigh, his hand tightening in your hair. "Impatient is right," He said, his voice low and strained. "Now either put that pretty mouth back to work or I'll pull you up and fuck your face until you can't breathe." A small laugh escaped from your lips as you put your hands on his bare thighs to have more stability. Slowly, you leaned closer to his cock and licked his tip with a slow and precise movement, blinking at him through your eyelashes.

A low moan escaped his lips as you took him into your mouth, his hips bucking slightly forward involuntarily. His fingers sifted through your hair, gripping encouragingly. "Mhm, fuck..." He murmured, eyes darkening with pleasure as he watched you suck him slowly.

You took a good look on his moaning face, as he tried to control himself. His fingers cupped your cheek gently as he watched you intensely, out of breath. “Fuck, you look so pretty like this.” He bit his lip as you gave him an innocent look. “What would your sister say if she knew how good you are sucking a cock of her favourite singer, huh?” He bucked his hips more forward, his cock going more deeper into your mouth.

As you gaze up at him with your eyes, seeing the blatant pleasure etched across his handsome face, it only spurs you on. His cock throbbing in your mouth, responding eagerly to your attentions. He bit his lower lip, trying desperately to maintain some semblance of control. "Goddamn..." Even though you wanted him to be a moaning mess and beg for you to go faster, you remain your movement slow, which he didn’t like at all.

He didn’t like how you teased him, how you went too slow for his liking. His patience was crushing as you continued the slow, torturous pace. He's been on edge all night and your teasing is driving him insane. With a growl, he let go of your cheek and he grabbed your head firmly and started to thrust into your mouth, fucking your face at a brutal pace. "Fuck, angel. You think you can just tease me like that?” Mingi asked as he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, not noticing how tears started to well up in your eyes as he thrusted into your mouth roughly. He was too lost in the pleasure, his mind solely focused on chasing his release.

As soon as he opened his eyes and made an eye contact, he noticed the small tears running down your cheek. He took his another hand and be wiped the tears away and gave you a smirk of enjoyment. He enjoyed seeing you so vulnerable, so completely at his mercy. He continued to fuck your face, his movements growing more violent and forceful.

A little moan escaped from your lips which sent the vibration of pleasure through him, making his cock twitch in your mouth. He groaned deeply, his eyes locked with yours, seeing the lust and surrender glistening in those watery depths. He maintained his brutal pace, utterly intoxicated by the erotic sight before him. His grip was still tight on your hair and you could feel him being close as he is teetering on the edge, his balls drawing up tight against his body. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried his dick as deep in your mouth as possible and held it there, his entire body shaking with the force of his orgasm. You swallowed his cum and you pull away from his cock, his one hand that was cupping your cheek was no longer there. Out of breath he run a hand through his messy blonde hair.

Mingi watched your face closely, seeing your puffy lips, red and slightly swollen from blowing him. Your cheeks were hollowed out, jaw aching from taking his length. Tears stain your face prettily, making your eyes look even bigger. Your hair was messy from his brutal grip. As you tried to catch your breath and stop the throbbing feeling between your legs he yanked you up by your hair, his grip painful but possessive.

Slowly, he lifted your shirt over your head, his gaze raking over your bare chest. He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to your neck, shoulders, and collarbone. His hands slowly slided down to your skirt, unbuttoning it gently. You watched patiently as his fingers worked slowly, unbuttoning each button carefully.

He could feel your swallow against his lips as he kissed your collarbone. He pulled your skirt down slowly, revealing your legs inch by inch. Then with a quick movement he spun you around and pushed you on the bed, his large body crowding you from behind. You froze as the words you weren’t expecting left his mouth.

"Hands on the bed," He ordered, his voice low and commanding. "And spread your legs." He whispered to your ear from behind as he left a kiss behind your earlobe enjoying how a chill run down your spine. You obeyed his words and you put your hands on the bed, you arched your back for him, swallowing loudly.

Mingi stepped back for a moment to admire the view. Your hands were splayed on the bed, your back arched slightly as you bend over. He was hard again.

Mingi usually didn’t do this, he didn’t fuck often he just let the girls suck his dick. But he wanted to feel you. He wanted to feel your pussy.

He reached into his jeans pocket that were laying on the ground and he pulled out a condom. Your mind was wondering about how minute ago you sucked his dig. You gave a blowjob to an unknown guy… The worst part was that you enjoyed every bit of it.

When you heard how he teared open the condom wrapper with his teeth and rolled it onto his length slowly, his eyes locked onto your bent form. He stepped back between your spread legs, running his hands up your thighs possessively. "Stay like this," He murmured, his voice low and gruff.

When your ass met his hard cock, your mouth opened wide at that, he grinded against you slowly, causing the fabric of your panties to rub against your sensitive slit. You could feel how hard he is again, eager for another round after that intense blowjob.

“Do others see you like this? Or is it just me who you act like a whore for, little angel?” he asked as he leaned closer to your ear again, his hand squeezing your bare ass.

“No only you.” You confessed with almost a whisper like you were to embarrassed to said it loud. He smirked at your response being satisfied enough as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and slowly dragged them down your thighs, revealing your bare, soaked core. He spread your legs wider, stepping between them to get a better angle.

"Spread your legs wider," He commanded and you nod at his request. As soon as you spread your legs wider he started to admire the new angle, drinking in the erotic sight of your glistening pussy lips exposed, begging to be filled. With a wicked smirk, he grabbed his hard cock and positioned the swollen tip at your entrance.

"You want my cock?" When you felt his tip brushing against your wet pussy you let out a moan. Not being able to answer to his words, you just shook your head in an agreement. Without warning, he plunged his thick cock deep into your soaked pussy with one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt. You were a moaning mess already and he only just slipped into you. A guttural groan escaped his lips as well, as your walls clamp down around him. "Fuck, you're tight," he growled, giving your ass a sharp slap, making you moan a little louder.

He doesn't give you a chance to adjust, immediately setting a relentless pace, his hips slamming against your ass with each forceful thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, mingling with your cries and his grunts. "Take it, fucking take it," You let out a cry as he kept thrusting into you deeply, he put his hand on your hip tightly to feel you even more.

“Mingi?” Suddenly a little knock on the door was heard and he stopped for a second but his dick still deeply buried inside you. “Keep your voice down.” Mingi whispered with a low warning voice as he began thrusting into you again.

“Y-yeah?” He replied back as he started to leave kisses on your bare shoulders, making you struggle to be quiet.

“Me and the boys are heading to the town for a few drinks, wanna come?” Once again the man voice asked, Mingi squeezed your ass and you moan a little louder than you should. Quickly Mingi grabbed your head and he showed it down to the mattress to make you shut up. “Angel, what did I say about keeping your voice down, hm?” His grip tightened on your hip as he kept your head on the mattress, thrusting hard into you, your bodies slamming against each other.

“No. Fuck- I am good man.” As he felt your walls tightened he himself was struggling to be quiet. “You okay? You don’t sound good.”

“No. I am fine- just.. just tired.” He gave him a quick response, hoping that he would let it to go. Again he bit down on your shoulder, his fingers digging into your hip possessively. He smirked as he felt the way his cock hitting just the right spot. “Are you turned on even more because we almost got caught?” He whispered with a laugh as he felt your pussy tighten around him.

“Fuck, you are not so innocent how you look, angel.” A chill run down your spine and you swallowed when he started sucking gently on your lobe, fucking you roughly and deeply hitting your g-spot. He felt your tightening walls around him, he knew you were close. “That's it, fucking take this cock like a good little slut for me." He punctuated each word with a sharp thrust as he pulled you even closer by your hip, his face burying into your neck from behind as he pants:

“So good, just for me.” You let out a moan again the mattress as he praised you and for the last time he hit your g-spot, causing you to cum. But his movements become more erratic as he gets closer to his own release. He watched your body writhe. He didn’t pull out, instead he slided slowly in and out, drawing out your orgasm.

With a final, shuddering groan, Mingi pulled out just as he reaches his high, his hot cum releasing. He stayed there for a moment, panting heavily, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he watches your thighs shaking and you collapsing on your stomach. What.the.fuck? You thought to yourself as you realised that you were fucked by a guy you just met. A famous guy…

Slowly, you sat up, trying to catch your breath as you watched him throw the condom into a trash. He looked over at your fucked face. Your mascara was slightly smudged, your face flushed, your hair was messy and your chest was rising up heavily as you observed him. You looked good. Too perfect.

But both of you remain silent, being too lost for words to say something. Mingi grabbed his black jeans and he put it on, butting it slowly with his fingers. You cleared your throat as you stand up from the bed and grabbed your clothes awkwardly. You never felt so damn awkward like you did now. But when you look at Mingi, he looked casual? Like he wasn’t even bothered. You flashed that thought away and you began to grab your things.

“Leaving so fast?” He asked as he sat down on the bed still without his shirt. As you bent over slightly to grab your purse from the ground, he takes a good look on your exposed ass. He swallowed hard, his jeans becoming tight again. “Well, my sister-“ When you started to speak he interrupted you. “Gotta rush back to being the perfect angel your sister thinks you are?" He asked leaning more back on the bed and supporting his body with his elbows as he watched you put your shirt on.

“Stop with the teasing.” When a warm laugh escaped from your lips his heart skipped a beat. You put your skirt on quickly and turn around to look at him with a nervous face.

“Well, it was great.” He laughed softly as he watched you being you again. Shy, like you were when you accidentally spilled his drink, when you were smoking your cigarette. You froze a little as he laughs, immediately blushing as you think about what you said.

"Great? Just 'great'?" He propped himself up on his elbows, smirking arrogantly as he watched your lip-twitching. "I think you meant'mind-blowing,''Earth-shattering' or even just 'holy fuck that was the best sex of my life'."

“Funny.” You let out an embarrassing laugh. He watched how you acted embarrassed and it brought a real warm smile to him. He felt good around your presence. Why didn’t he want this to end? Suddenly your phone started to ring which pulled you out of your embarrassment. You look at the phone caller and it says ‘sister’, a sigh escaped your lips and Mingi’s smile fade away right away when he realised that this is really the end.

“I should get going.” You mumbled and for the last time you smiled at him and left without a goodbye. Mingi for a quiet long time sat on his bed, thinking. He felt weird. Why did he wanted you to stay? He never felt like this before. He rubbed his eyes and his temples hoping that the weird feeling towards you will fade away.

-

“Where were you?” When you found your sister she scanned you from head to toe with a confused look on her face. You opened your mouth slightly, thinking. “Bathroom.”

As the weeks passed, you were hanging out with your friend at the bar and out of nowhere you get a text from an unknown number.

“wanna repeat it, angel? :)”

[levanterhaze]

── GAMEBOY, BANGCHAN

♡  ― 󠀬󠀬 fratboy!bangchan x f!reader dirty talk, masturbation, rough sex, slight choking, use of nicknames, overstimulation among other things I can't even name

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[10k words ]♡― once again, I must thank you all for your love and for continuing to enjoy gameboy! this chapter is a bit long, but for me it's interesting to write the development of the characters to get where we want to go! don't forget to listen to the playlist and those who just got here PLEASE READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS!!!! that said, have a good read.

♡― THE PLAYLIST.

♡ [part one] ♡ [part two] ♡ [part three] ♡ [part four]

On the corner of my bed Oh, and maybe on the beach You could do it on your own While you're lookin' at me

After absolutely killing your performance of Out Here On My Own, the applause hit you like a tidal wave. A standing ovation. Even Mrs. Baek looked mildly impressed, which, considering her usual stone-cold demeanor, basically meant she was internally sobbing.

And just like that, all the nerves? Gone. Vanished into thin air like they were never even there.

Bangchan had been watching—because of course, he had—but before you could revel in that fact for too long, he got a call and had to bounce. Typical.

You should have been freaking out about the whole making out backstage situation. Should’ve been scanning every corner for witnesses, mentally preparing for a campus-wide scandal. But weirdly? You weren’t. That reckless, confident part of you—the one still floating on cloud nine—did not care. If anything, you could still feel him. His touch on your waist like a phantom burn, his lips still branded on yours.

But whatever. You had bigger things to stress about. The final list wasn’t coming out until Monday, which meant you had the entire weekend to sit in pure, unfiltered agony over it. Luckily, Saturday’s party was the perfect excuse to get out of your head for a while.

Fast forward through a day of pretending to be studious with Sohee—aka desperately trying to focus while your brain replayed that kiss—you finally took a well-earned shower and decided to go for a solo nighttime stroll. 

Campus was still alive, students buzzing around in little clusters, laughing and talking like they didn’t have impending deadlines. You shoved your headphones in, following the athletics track, which was mostly empty by now.

The night air had that perfect, crisp breeze—the kind that made you grateful you threw on a cardigan. And just when you thought the moment couldn’t get any better, Wonderwall started playing. You smirked to yourself. Damn, you loved this song.

And yet, with every step, your brain kept poking at you like an annoying little sibling. Anxiety, sure. But let’s not forget the other mess currently occupying premium real estate in your mind—Hyunjin.

You hadn’t talked to him since you drunkenly spilled your guts, quite literally, about your whole Bangchan situation. And if you were being honest, which you weren’t, at least not with yourself, you were actively dodging that conversation. Because talking to Hyunjin meant facing your own feelings, and frankly, you were not clocked in for that emotional labor.

Your phone lit up mid-walk.

Mingyu: can I see you today?

You chewed on your lip, staring at the message. It was almost ridiculous how this boy—new, uncomplicated, and seemingly sincere—wanted something real with you. And yet, here you were, hesitating. Because no matter how nice Mingyu was, your brain wasn’t stuck on him.

It was stuck on someone else.

On a certain maddening, frustrating, insanely good kisser who had, at some point, tattooed himself onto your skin. If physical touch could be permanent, Bangchan’s hands would be everywhere on you. And, let’s be honest, you wouldn’t exactly be filing a complaint about it.

Before you even processed the decision, your feet had already made it for you. You were crossing campus, heading straight for his dorm.

Because you needed to talk. Like adults. No teasing, no sarcastic little jabs—just honesty.

And, okay, maybe you needed to see him, too. Feel him. More than ever.

Your determination was fuel to the fire already burning inside you. Your heart was pounding, your brain was screaming at you to calm down, but your body wasn’t taking any orders tonight. That feverish, all-consuming pull settled deep in your gut, an intoxicating mix of adrenaline, nerves, and something terrifyingly real.

You took the stairs two at a time, like the damn dorm might vanish before you got there.

By the time you reached his door, you were clutching your excitement close, biting back a smile even as your fingers trembled. Deep breath. You knocked, quick and sure.

It’s fine. He’ll listen. You’ll talk. You’ll finally—

The door swung open.

And instead of a tall, dark-haired boy, you were met with her.

She was pretty. Unfairly, effortlessly pretty—the kind of girl who belonged on magazine covers and in the daydreams of poets. Medium height, light hair, bright eyes. The kind of face men went to war over.

Your stomach dropped like a stone.

“Hi!” she greeted, all warmth and ease, completely oblivious to the way the air had just been sucked out of your lungs.

You swallowed, forcing a polite nod. “Uh, hey… is Bangchan here?”

She shook her head, smiling like this was just any other casual conversation. And that’s when you noticed it—his black t-shirt, draped over her frame.

“Oh, no. He went to grab some food.” she tilted her head, something curious in her gaze. “Are you a friend of his? Oh! Sorry—I’m Yeojin. His girlfriend. And you are…?”

Her words hit like a gut punch, sucking the warmth right out of your chest.

A bitter laugh bubbled up, but you swallowed it down, masking the sting with a tight-lipped smile. “A classmate,” you said smoothly. “I just had a question, but… I think it can wait till Monday.”

And just like that, the fire inside you? Extinguished.

The girl pursed her glossy lips, then nodded politely. “Okay. I’ll let him know you stopped by.”

“No need.” the words left your mouth before she could even finish. “Thanks, Yeojin.”

Her name felt like venom rolling off your tongue, thick and bitter, coating your mouth with something vile.

By the time you hit the stairs, you were moving so fast you were honestly surprised you didn’t wipe out. Your pulse was a hammer against your ribs, your breath uneven. Your brain hadn’t even caught up yet—stuck on a loop, trying to process the absolute train wreck that had just unfolded.

He had a girlfriend this whole time.

He lied to you.

He did exactly what everyone said he would.

The sharp sting of disappointment curdled into full-blown anger. Your steps turned heavier, each one smacking against the pavement like a silent war drum. You were so locked into getting to your dorm—so wound up with the need to disappear into your own space—you probably would’ve plowed through half a dozen people without a second thought.

But fate had a sick sense of humor. Because halfway across campus, you spotted him.

Bangchan, heading back toward the dorms, a paper bag dangling from his hand—food, obviously, because why wouldn’t he be casually picking up dinner while your world imploded?

His eyes lit up the second he saw you, but that moment of warmth flickered out fast when you didn’t even look at him. Didn’t slow down. Didn’t hesitate. Just walked right past him like he was nothing—like he was air—nearly clipping his arm in the process.

He stood there for two seconds, frozen, before spinning around. Your name tore from his lips, sharp and urgent.

“What happened?” when you didn’t answer, his voice shot up, strained. “Where are you going?”

You sucked in a deep breath, your whole body practically vibrating with anger. Then, before you could stop yourself, you spun around and marched right back toward him, each step digging into the grass like you were stomping out a fire.

“To my dorm,” you snapped. “Not that it’s any of your business. Oh, and fun fact—I just came back from yours.” sarcasm dripped from your voice like honey laced with poison.

Bangchan blinked, his brain buffering like a slow-loading webpage. The look on his face almost made you laugh—almost. Instead, you just smiled, sharp and humorless. Yeah, process that, asshole.

You turned to leave, but before you could, his hand caught yours. Not your wrist, like some desperate last-ditch grab—your hand. Like he meant it. And the second your skin met his, it was like touching an open flame.

“Let me explain.” his voice was tight, urgent.

“Don’t touch me.” you yanked your hand back like it burned. “I don’t give a shit about whatever excuse you’re about to pull out of your ass.”

His jaw clenched. “Can you stop being so damn stubborn and just listen to me for once?”

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Oh, you wanna explain?” you licked your lips, tasting nothing but bitterness. “Go ahead. Explain how you had a girlfriend this whole time while you were fucking around with me.”

The words landed like a punch to the gut—on both of you.

Because, deep down, being with you had never been defined. No labels. No promises. No safety net to fall back on. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Bangchan’s brows snapped together. “What? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh, don’t even try it.” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re really gonna stand there and lie to my face? I saw her.”

His frustration bubbled over, his arms flying up in exasperation. “I genuinely have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.” his voice cracked with frustration. He looked at you like he was praying for some divine intervention to make sense of this mess. “If you’re talking about—”

“Just go back to your girlfriend and leave me alone, Bangchan.” your voice was steady, but he wasn’t stupid—he saw the fire still burning in your eyes, catching in the moonlight.

And maybe if he had taken half a second to think, he wouldn’t have said it. Maybe he would’ve swallowed his pride and stopped himself from making it worse.

But he didn’t.

“Whatever, right?” he scoffed, voice laced with something bitter. “It’s not like we were anything.”

You pressed your lips together, jaw tight, throat burning like you’d swallowed glass. And for the first time in your life, really the first, you felt so humiliated—so stupid—that your eyes burned with unshed tears.

Bangchan saw it. Saw the way your waterline glistened, saw the way your breath hitched, but you wouldn’t cry. Not in front of him. Not for him.

“If you really think that’s the problem, then that says a whole lot more about you than it does about me.” your voice was sharp, but quiet, like a blade sliding back into its sheath.

And just like that, the conversation was over.

You turned on your heel and walked away, each step fueled by a firestorm of anger, hurt, and something else you weren’t ready to name. Bangchan watched you go, standing frozen in place, and by the time he even thought about stopping you—

It was too late.

Outside your dorm, you yanked your phone out of your pocket, fingers flying across the screen like a woman on a mission. Your pulse was still hammering, adrenaline buzzing under your skin as you pulled up Mingyu’s contact and typed without hesitation.

You: Feel like crashing a party on Saturday?

Barely a beat passed before your phone vibrated with his response.

Mingyu: You had me at “party.”

Bangchan pushed open the door to his dorm with more force than necessary, letting it slam shut behind him. His pulse was still racing, his jaw tight with frustration.

And there she was. Yeojin.

Lying on his bed, scrolling through her phone like she owned the place. His old sweatshirt was hanging off her shoulder, and she barely spared him a glance when he walked in.

“Oh, you’re back,” she said, swinging her legs idly. “Didn’t take you long.”

Bangchan set his bag of takeout on the desk and exhaled sharply through his nose. “What the hell did you say to her?”

Yeojin finally looked up, her expression the perfect blend of innocence and amusement. “Say what exactly?”

His fingers flexed at his sides. “You know what,” he ground out. “You told her we’re together. Why?”

She tilted her head, brows lifting. “I never said that.”

Bangchan let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeojin, don’t play games with me.”

“I didn’t, Chan.” she sighed dramatically, stretching her arms over her head. “She asked if you were here, I said no, and I introduced myself. It’s not my fault if she jumped to conclusions.”

He clenched his jaw, glaring at her. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

She just smiled. “So what if it is?” her voice dropped, teasing, as she sat up. “You used to like when I messed with people.”

Bangchan took a step back when she reached for him, his whole body recoiling instinctively.

“We’re not kids anymore, Yeojin,” he muttered. “And I don’t have time for this.” he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. “I got Thai food. Help yourself.”

Before she could say anything else, he was gone.

The cool night air did little to calm Bangchan’s nerves as he walked toward the basketball court, fists shoved in his hoodie pockets. His mind was a mess, replaying the way you had looked at him—like he was exactly what people warned you about.

Before he could spiral further, a familiar voice cut through his thoughts.

“Damn, what’s with the face?” Changbin asked, appearing from the other side of the path. “You look like you wanna punch a hole in a wall.”

Bangchan exhaled sharply. “Not a wall.”

Changbin frowned. “What the hell happened?”

Bangchan hesitated before tilting his head toward the court. “Basketball first. Talking later.”

Changbin smirked. “I like where this is going.”

Fifteen minutes later, Bangchan sat on the edge of the basketball court, legs stretched out, elbows resting on his knees, looking like life had personally drop-kicked him.

Across from him, Changbin dribbled the ball lazily, waiting. And waiting. Until his patience ran out.

“So?” Changbin finally asked, passing him the ball. “Spill.”

Bangchan caught it, staring at it for a second before shaking his head. “Yeojin’s here.”

Changbin nearly fumbled the rebound. “I’m sorry—what?” his face twisted in immediate disgust. “What the hell is she doing here?”

Bangchan sighed. “She came to visit. Said she was in town. It’s been years, and I figured—whatever, right? No harm in catching up.”

Changbin let out a dry laugh. “No harm? Bro, she’s a walking red flag. Why would you even entertain that?”

Bangchan pressed his tongue against his cheek. “I don’t know, man. Nostalgia? I mean, we didn’t exactly end badly, we just—” he sighed. “Didn’t work.”

Changbin scoffed. “Yeah, well, I never liked her. You know that.” 

Bangchan dribbled once, then tossed the ball toward the hoop. It hit the rim, circled, then dropped through the net. “There’s more.”

Changbin folded his arms. “Yeah, no shit. You’re sitting here like you just found out Santa isn’t real. What else happened?”

Bangchan caught the rebound and exhaled. “She saw.”

Changbin frowned. “Saw what?”

Bangchan gave him a look.

“Oh.” Changbin winced. “Shit.” he let out a slow whistle. “That’s… bad.”

“No shit,” Bangchan muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “She showed up at my dorm, and instead of me opening the door, Yeojin did.”

Changbin groaned. “Dude. No.”

“Oh, it gets worse,” Bangchan went on, voice dripping with frustration. “Yeojin, being the manipulative little menace she is, basically introduced herself as my girlfriend.”

Changbin stared at him like he just admitted to murder. “And she believed that?”

Bangchan laughed bitterly. “Why wouldn’t she? The look she gave me, man… like I was exactly what she expected. Some asshole playing games.”

Changbin studied him for a second. “And that bothers you.”

Bangchan scoffed. “Of course it fucking bothers me.” he leaned forward, gripping the ball tight. “She drives me insane, Bin. Like—she acts like it’s nothing. Like whatever we had was just this casual, meaningless thing. But then she turns around and—” he exhaled sharply. “Her actions say otherwise. She looks at me like she feels something. She reacts like she cares. But every time I get close, she shuts it down.”

Changbin snorted, rolling the ball between his palms. “So basically, she’s bullshitting, you’re bullshitting, and now you’re both miserable?”

Bangchan shot him a glare.

Changbin smirked. “I mean, she won’t admit she likes you, and you’re sitting here trauma-dumping on me instead of doing something about it.”

Bangchan groaned, tilting his head back against the wall. “She’s pissed, Bin. Like, really pissed.”

“So fix it.”

Bangchan laughed humorlessly. “Yeah. Easier said than done.”

Changbin passed him the ball. “So what now?”

Bangchan caught it, staring down at the faded lettering on the rubber. That was the question, wasn’t it? Because right now, you wanted nothing to do with him.

And honestly? He deserved it.

Saturday morning. Group breakfast. Good vibes. At least, that’s what you were aiming for.

You were mid-story, telling Felix how the auditions had gone, when the universe decided to test your patience. Again.

Changbin strolled in with Jisung, Bangchan, and—you had to blink twice just to confirm—Yeojin.

Of course. Because it wasn’t enough that he lied. He had to parade it around like some kind of grand event.

“I need a fat slice of chocolate cake,” Changbin announced, dropping into his seat. “Something sweet to cleanse the absolute trash energy in the air.”

Your eyes flicked to Yeojin, who was standing a little too comfortably next to Bangchan. 

“Yeojin, long time no see,” Hyunjin greeted, all polite and civil.

She beamed. “Hyunjin! Oh my God, it’s really you!” she gushed, voice dripping with enthusiasm. You wanted to be a girl’s girl, really—you did. But something about her tone made your eye twitch.

“Who’s that?” Sohee whispered, not even bothering to be discreet.

“Oh, nice to meet you,” Yeojin said, flashing a smile that felt way too rehearsed. “Yeojin. Chan’s friend.”

She said it like she was accepting a damn award. The table went dead silent. Everyone shared a look.

You, however, remained completely unbothered, taking a slow sip of your strawberry milk like you had all the time in the world.

Bangchan slid into the seat across from you, throwing not-so-subtle glances in your direction—just in case you maybe wanted to acknowledge his existence.

You didn’t. Instead, you busied yourself with literally anything else. The napkins. The straw in your drink. The slow, satisfying process of ignoring him.

If he wanted your attention, he’d have to earn it.

Yeojin was annoyingly easy to get along with. Effortless charm, perfectly timed laughs—like she’d studied the art of socializing and graduated top of her class. And maybe that wouldn’t have bothered you if you didn’t feel an immediate, inexplicable urge to dislike her.

Maybe it was the way she smiled just a little too much. Like she was in on some inside joke that no one else was laughing at. Or how she leaned into Bangchan like he had his own gravitational pull, always conveniently this close to falling into his lap.

For someone who had been so desperate to explain himself last night, he looked awfully comfortable letting her cling to him now.

“So, everyone’s going tonight, right?” Jisung asked, drumming his fingers on the table.

Yeojin jumped on the conversation like it was an open invitation. “What’s tonight?”

“Jisung’s DJing at a party,” Eunji answered, taking a sip of her drink.

Yeojin hummed, tilting her head in that thoughtful but not really way. “I was going to leave after lunch, but… I guess I can stay a little longer.”

She glanced at Bangchan like she was waiting for permission.

Too bad he wasn’t paying attention. His focus was glued to his phone, fingers tapping out a message.

Your own phone buzzed in your pocket.

Bangchan: can we talk?

Your eyes flicked up, purely on instinct. And there he was. Watching you.

You frowned, pulled out your phone, read the message, and stuffed it right back in your pocket. No response.

The table blurred into background noise. Laughter, conversation, the occasional clatter of silverware—it all melted into static. Because Bangchan was still looking. That steady, expectant stare that made your skin itch. That made your chest feel a little too tight.

Your phone buzzed again.

Bangchan: you can’t ignore me forever.

Bet.

You smirked to yourself. If Bangchan thought he could tell you what to do, he had another thing coming.

Grabbing the strap of your bag, you stood up, all casual confidence, and turned to Sohee and Eunji. “I’m heading out with Hyunjin.” no further explanation. Just a statement.

Hyunjin, caught in the crossfire of whatever this was, frowned. “Wait—what? Since when?”

You just kept walking, tossing a grin over your shoulder. “Since right now. Just smile and act natural.”

 You made sure to take the long way around the table, passing directly in front of Bangchan—not looking at him. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment. Just air.

Hyunjin, still struggling to keep up, shot a quick glance back before leaning in. “Okay, seriously, what was that? Bangchan looked like he was about to start breathing fire.”

You flicked your hair over your shoulder, your smirk widening.

“Revenge, Hyun. Just a little harmless revenge.”

The house was packed.

Neon lights flickered wildly, splashing the room in chaotic waves of electric blue and fiery red, pulsing in sync with the bass. The air was thick—heat, sweat, cheap cologne, and the sharp sting of alcohol weaving together into something intoxicating. The floor thrummed beneath your boots, bodies moving in effortless rhythm, a silent agreement to just let go.

Jisung was at the DJ booth, throwing in ad-libs between transitions, hyping up the crowd like he was born for this. A remix dropped, shaking the walls, and the entire party roared in approval. Off-campus ragers had a way of making reality blur, like stepping into a fever dream.

Perfect.

Eunji and Sohee spotted you first, their eyes going comically wide, like they’d just witnessed the second coming of Christ.

“Jesus, look at you,” Sohee gasped, gripping your arm for dear life.

Eunji gave a solemn nod. “This outfit should be illegal.”

You twirled, just enough to let your skirt flare out, a little reminder of why you picked it.

“Drinks first, right?” you pointed at Hyunjin, who gave you an approving nod.

You peeled away from the group, squeezing through the sweaty crowd toward a corner where a massive keg stood like a beacon of bad decisions. There were stronger drinks, but you decided to take it easy—for now.

Then, in half a second, you felt it. Like your body already knew, like a moth drawn to a flame.

Under the pulsing red lights, he looked dangerous. A predator in slow motion, moving through the crowd with that effortless, lazy confidence that made people either run toward him or clear a path. Flashes of white and blue caught the sharp cut of his jaw, the faint sheen of sweat at his collarbone. A contrast—razor-edged and infuriatingly soft all at once.

And yet. You couldn’t focus on any of that.

Because Yeojin was practically clinging to him.

Talking—laughing, leaning, performing—but Bangchan barely seemed to notice. If anything, he looked somewhere else entirely. Somewhere you were. Because the second your eyes met, his focus locked in.

And he started moving. One step. Then another.

But before he could take a third, an arm slid around your waist.

Mingyu.

His touch was warm, firm—a perfectly timed lifeline. His lips brushed against your ear, voice low and deliberate. “Have I mentioned you look insane tonight?”

A slow, satisfied smile curled on your lips. Perfect.

Through the neon haze, you caught Bangchan’s reaction over Mingyu’s shoulder. Electric blue light flickered across his face like something straight out of a movie scene.

Oh, he was pissed. Not just annoyed. Not just irritated. Seething.

Jaw clenched. Shoulders tight. Eyes locked onto you with an intensity that sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

Good.

Mingyu pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “Dance with me?”

You let the question hang, stretching the moment just because you could—fully aware of your audience. Then, with a casual flick of your fingers, you grabbed Mingyu’s wrist and turned back to your friends.

And that’s when the remix hit.

The song of the summer. A full-blown club anthem blasted through the house, lights flashing in sync with the bass, and suddenly Eunji and Sohee were dragging you onto the dance floor. You barely had time to toss Mingyu a look before pulling him into the crowd with you.

Sohee was already wrapped around her boyfriend’s neck, hair flying as she danced like she was possessed, while Minho just laughed at her antics. Jisung was losing his mind behind the DJ booth, hyping up the party like a man on a mission.

And Bangchan? He didn’t move. He just watched.

Watched as you danced. Watched as Mingyu’s hands found your waist. Watched as you threw your head back, laughing, moving with the beat like you had nothing to prove.

And under the pulsing red lights, with silver glitter catching on your cheekbones, you didn’t just look good. You looked untouchable.

And he looked like a man about to start a war.

You spun around, arms draped over Mingyu’s shoulders as his hands trailed down to your waist, pulling you into the rhythm. To anyone watching, you two looked dangerously close—every move synced, every touch easy, like this was something more than just a party moment. But in the back of your mind, a small, annoying voice reminded you that this wasn’t about Mingyu at all.

Still, too late now.

The strobe lights flashed in bursts, making everything feel like a glitch in time—jumping, dancing, bodies moving like there was no tomorrow. You lost sight of Bangchan for a while, which was probably for the best. So, you let go. Had fun. Actually enjoyed yourself with your friends.

Until someone slammed into you, knocking the air right out of your lungs.

One second, Mingyu was right there. The next, he was gone, practically launched across the floor. “What the—” you barely got the words out before you saw the damage.

Changbin stood there, wide-eyed, drenched in a suspiciously pink drink, looking like he just survived a battlefield. And Mingyu? Equally soaked, equally stunned, like he was still processing what the hell just happened.

“Dude, shit—sorry!” Changbin shouted, voice barely cutting through the music.

You blinked, taking in the absolute mess before turning back to him. “Are you good?”

Changbin nodded rapidly, looking between you and Mingyu like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or start running. “Yeah, yeah, my bad!”

Then he turned back to Mingyu, hands up like a man pleading for his life.

Mingyu just let out a sigh, lifting the hem of his now ruined white T-shirt like he was mourning a fallen soldier. “Alright. I’ll be right back,” he said, shaking his head before disappearing into the crowd.

Meanwhile, Changbin grabbed your arm, his expression serious—well, as serious as someone drenched in a neon-pink drink could look. He gestured for you to follow, weaving through the bodies until you reached the foot of the stairs.

“What?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Can you grab me a shirt? I left one in Jisung’s backpack.”

You took a second to assess the situation. Changbin, slightly tipsy, covered in pink, blinking at you like a lost puppy. He looked ridiculous.

With a dramatic sigh, you caved. “Fine.”

“You’re the best,” he said, clasping his hands like he was praising the heavens. “It’s in the room on the right, upstairs.”

You turned, climbing the stairs while dodging couples making out on the steps like it was some kind of kissing marathon. Once you reached the hallway, you scanned the doors—long corridor, a few rooms—until you spotted one slightly open on the right.

Alright. In and out. Quick mission.

Stepping inside, you started searching for Jisung’s bag—first the floor, then the bed. Nothing.

And then—

Movement.

From the corner of your eye, a figure emerged from behind the bed, rising like a shadow from the dark.

Your breath caught. Bangchan. Standing there. Watching you.

A black cable twirled between his fingers, slow and deliberate, his gaze unreadable under the dim glow of the hallway lights.

“What?” you were the first to break the silence, arms crossing instinctively. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Bangchan gave you a flat look, holding up the black cable like it was evidence in court. “I should be asking you that. I came to get Han’s charger.” he raised an eyebrow, gaze sharp, like he wasn’t entirely convinced.

You opened your mouth, fully prepared to deliver something scathing—but before you could get a word out, the door swung open again.

“Sorry, kids! Not opening this door until you sort yourselves out!”

You barely had time to process Changbin’s smug, drunken grin before the door slammed shut.

For half a second, you froze.

Then you launched at the door, fists pounding like you could open it through sheer rage. “Changbin, open this fucking door right now!”

No answer. Just the distant thrum of music, too muffled for anyone outside to hear you scream bloody murder.

You yanked at the handle—definitely locked.

With a sharp inhale, you turned, glaring daggers at Bangchan, who was just… standing there. Watching. Amused.

“Are you just gonna stand there? Do something!”

His lips twitched, like he was this close to laughing. “Pretty sure this is your problem, not mine.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Oh, so now you don’t wanna get involved?”

Bangchan sighed—slow, exaggerated—before strolling up to the door, resting a lazy hand on the knob, and giving it a completely useless jiggle. Then he turned back to you with a straight face.

“Yeah. It’s locked.”

You stared at him. Blinked. Then scoffed so hard you nearly choked.

“No shit, Sherlock. Are you serious?”

Bangchan couldn’t help it—he laughed. Because you were spiraling, and honestly? It was funny as hell.

“I’ll call him,” he said, still smirking.

You rolled your eyes so hard they nearly left your skull and made your way over to the double bed in the corner. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, collapsing onto the edge like this was some Shakespearean tragedy.

Then a thought clicked, and suddenly, everything made sense.

Your head snapped up. “Wait—” you shot to your feet, eyes narrowing. “He knows. You told him.”

Bangchan barely looked fazed. “He kinda figured it out on his own, if that makes you feel any better.”

Which wasn’t exactly a lie. Bangchan was so into you, stealing glances constantly, and Changbin wasn’t stupid. The man could read a room like it was his job.

You dragged a hand down your face, exhaling sharply. “This is a nightmare.”

Bangchan tilted his head, amused. “Jesus, is it really that bad being stuck in here with me? Last time, you weren’t exactly complaining.”

The second those words left his mouth, you hit him with a look so deadly he immediately shut up.

“Just get Changbin to open the damn door, Bangchan,” you said flatly, plopping back down onto the bed, dead center, legs crossed like you were settling in for a long, miserable wait.

You pulled out your phone, thumbs flying across the screen as you sent a message to Hyunjin—the only person who knew about the whole situation. You could have asked Sohee, Eunji, or even Mingyu, but that would just open a very annoying can of worms.

And you were not in the mood for questions.

This couldn’t be real. No way. The second you got out of here, Changbin was getting his ass handed to him. And Mingyu was probably already wondering where the hell you’d disappeared to. Just like Yeojin was probably searching for Bangchan.

Perfect.

“He’s not answering,” Bangchan announced, completely unfazed. “Which means he’s ignoring me on purpose. So, we wait.” he sat by the window like it was just another Tuesday, leaning back on his palms.

“This is your fault.”

That earned you a scoff. “How the hell is this my fault?”

You shot him a glare. “If you hadn’t spilled everything to him, none of this would be happening.”

Bangchan let out a dry laugh, tilting his head like you were so predictable. “Right. And if you hadn’t jumped to conclusions without actually listening to me—like you always do—none of this would be happening either.”

Oof. Direct hit. You hated when he had a point.

“I have nothing to hear from you,” you muttered, crossing your arms and staring at literally anything else in the room.

Silence.

Annoyingly, maddeningly, deafeningly loud silence.

Bangchan rested his arms on his knees, watching you like he had all the time in the world. And pretending he wasn’t there, yeah, that was a joke. His presence was like gravity—pulling, heavy, impossible to ignore.

Less than ten minutes passed before the anger started simmering down. Because that’s how it always went with him. Like a fire that burned too hot, too fast.

“You seriously thought she was my girlfriend?”

You turned, locking eyes with him. “What else was I supposed to think? She said it herself.”

Bangchan hummed, tapping his fingers against his knee. “She’s not. Yeojin’s an ex—from high school. Ancient history.” he exhaled sharply through his teeth. “She’s just… a little clueless.”

“A little?” you let out a sharp laugh. “She was wearing your clothes when I showed up at your dorm.” you rolled your eyes, but Bangchan only smiled. Because, yeah, that sounded a whole lot like jealousy.

Then something clicked. “Wait—what were you doing there that night?”

“Nothing.” you looked away, ignoring the sudden heat crawling up your neck.

His laugh was soft, almost teasing. But the way he was looking at you? Like you were the only thing worth seeing? That was dangerous.

“C’mon. Seriously.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes, because he was so annoyingly persistent. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Doesn’t it?” Bangchan tilted his head, lips curving in that cocky little smirk. “I doubt that.”

“Well, I don’t care,” you shot back, folding your arms in defiance.

Bangchan pushed himself off the floor, moving to sit on the edge of the bed—close, but not too close. Still, he was big. Broad. Built like a problem. And despite the space between you, he somehow took up all of it.

Worse? He smelled stupidly good.

“What do you want?” you asked, bracing yourself for the answer—because Bangchan was stupidly honest, and you weren’t sure you were ready for whatever was about to come out of his mouth.

But he didn’t say a word. Just kept looking at you, pupils blown wide, gaze slow as it dragged over your face like he was trying to memorize every detail.

Then, finally— “Why’d you come that night?”

You swallowed. “I went because… I wanted to talk. And… I wanted things to be okay between us.”

For a second, he just stared at you like you’d punched the air out of his lungs. Because you had gone after him. To fix things. To close the distance.

“You wanted to?” you barely nodded before he let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Well, we’re two idiots, then.” his lips curled slightly, his whole energy shifting. “Because that’s all I want.”

Your eyes locked, and something about the way he was looking at you made your chest tighten. He had this insane ability to make you feel completely seen, like he could pick apart every thought in your head just by watching you.

“Why?”

Bangchan was never one to hold back, never afraid to be himself—especially when it came to being honest about what he wanted. And right now, he was this close to just laying it all out. Because the truth? He was ridiculously into you. More and more, every damn day.

“You’re stubborn, and I’m an idiot,” he muttered, lips pressing into a thin line before he let out a short laugh. The kind that made you laugh, too, before you even realized it. And honestly it pissed you off a little how easily he could do that—swing you from one extreme to another like it was nothing.

“Look,” he sighed. “I’m just gonna be straight with you, like I always am. I’m not playing games. I didn’t mean it when I said we were nothing.”

“But we are,” you mumbled, even though the words tasted like a lie. You weren’t anything. No labels, no relationship. Just a mess of late nights and tangled sheets—until things got way too complicated.

“I don’t want us to be nothing,” he said, shrugging, like he was just casually throwing his cards on the table. “Because ever since that first time, I haven’t wanted anyone else.”

Your breath caught, and suddenly, the bed felt too small, the room too warm. What the hell? You hadn’t expected this conversation to go there.

Bangchan? Not with anyone else? That was news. The guy was basically campus royalty when it came to hookups. Half the girls in your year had probably been in his dorm at some point.

And now he was sitting here, telling you this?

But now he was standing there, saying it out loud—no one else. Just you. And it sent your stomach into a tailspin.

“I shouldn’t have given you shit for it,” you muttered, nodding like that would somehow make the awkwardness go away. “I mean, since we’re not… you know.”

Bangchan lifted an eyebrow, clearly amused by how flustered you were.

“Oh, I know,” he said. “But you don’t get it. I don’t want anyone else.”

Your pulse spiked. Too fast. Too loud. What the hell was he trying to say?

“No, you’re just—” you let out a breathy, nervous laugh, stepping back like that would help. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bangchan didn’t let you go far. His hand caught yours, warm and steady, fingers wrapping around your wrist before he pulled you closer—right between his legs.

And then his hands were on your waist, fitting there like they belonged.

Your breath hitched.

His voice, suddenly lower, smoother, like silk wrapped in heat. “I know exactly what I want.”

Your eyes met his, and damn it, he was beautiful. That kind of beauty that wasn’t just about sharp jawlines and perfect features—it was something deeper, something that burned. The way his eyes locked onto you, glowing under the dim light. The way his expression was serious, but there was still softness lingering beneath it.

You knew what you wanted too. You just weren’t ready to admit it.

Your hands moved before your mind could catch up, tracing the curve of his brow, the sharp edge of his cheekbone—slow, like you were trying to memorize him by touch. Then, without thinking, you cupped his face, thumbs brushing over his skin.

Bangchan didn’t pull away. Didn’t even flinch. He just leaned into your touch, like this was normal, like you did this all the time. But you didn’t. Not like this.

Then he kissed the back of your hand, soft and slow, and damn it, you smiled.

“Say what you want,” he murmured.

“I…”

“I don’t care if I’m your dirty little secret,” he cut in, voice rough, low, burning at the edges. “I don’t care about any of it. As long as you’re mine, I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give.”

Something shifted inside you—hot, sharp, irreversible. Like a match hitting gasoline.

Bangchan tilted his head, pushing a strand of hair from your face. “What are you so afraid of?” his lips curled into a half-smirk. “You hate me that much?”

You let out a breath, shaking your head. “I don’t hate you.” your fingers tightened against his jaw. “Not even close.”

Bangchan pulled you in, arms locking tight around your waist, pressing you so close you could feel every breath he took against your skin. A shiver shot down your spine, anticipation curling in your stomach. You were teetering on the edge, seconds away from giving in—giving him everything. And if he was willing to take whatever you had to offer… What was stopping you?

With one swift move, his hands traced up the back of your thighs, fingers pressing into the sensitive skin behind your knees, guiding you onto the bed and onto his lap. The air between you shifted, crackling, something unspoken but heavy settling in the space only you two could understand.

It was automatic—this need, this burn. Like gravity, like the sky being blue, like the way your chemistry was always one spark away from setting the whole place on fire.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, yanking back just enough to force his eyes on you. And God, he looked wrecked—vulnerable in a way that made your stomach flip, pupils blown wide like he’d already lost the battle.

That’s when you kissed him.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was desperate—a clash of want, frustration, and every second of tension that had built between you. Like a wave crashing against the shore, wild and uncontrollable. You rocked against him, fingers tightening in his hair, barely biting back a moan when his hands gripped your ass, lifting you further into him.

Your skirt had already ridden up, but Bangchan wasn’t complaining.

He knew exactly what he was doing—kissing, nipping at your skin, hitting every spot that made you gasp. But it wasn’t enough. You needed more. More contact, more of him.

Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging it up with shaky hands. Bangchan barely hesitated, lifting his arms, muscles flexing as he pulled the fabric over his head. The low, guttural sound that left his lips sent a shiver through you—deep, raw, almost primal. And God, he looked unreal.

“You want me to stop?” he murmured against your lips, voice thick with restraint.

You shook your head immediately, body betraying you with the way it trembled against him.

“I can stop,” he teased, but this time, the possibility made your stomach flip. Your eyes snapped to his, filled with something dangerously close to panic.

Stepping back, just for a second, you took him in. And no matter how many times you’d seen him like this, you never quite got used to it. All of him. Broad, sculpted shoulders, solid arms, every inch of him screaming strength. And all of that was yours.

Bangchan smirked, eyes narrowing with smug satisfaction. “You look like you want something.”

You huffed a laugh, shoving him back. “Shut up.”

But before you could move away, his hands gripped your waist, pulling you down with him. You landed against his chest with a startled yelp, his warmth pressing into you.

Then he kissed you—slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every second, every breath, as if the night stretched endless before you, mapping every inch of your lips with his own. Your laughter faded, swallowed by him.

Pinned against him, you could feel the effect you had on him, the heat of him beneath dark denim. And if there was one thing you knew, it was how to push him over the edge.

So you kissed him harder, rolling your hips against his.

His hands flew to your ass, squeezing before delivering a sharp slap that had you moaning into his mouth. That was just how it was with you two—obscene, messy, utterly shameless. And nothing turned you on more.

Your fingers found the zipper of his jeans, finally breaking away from his lips to look down at him. Bangchan pushed up on his elbows, watching you through half-lidded eyes, his breath ragged as he fought to stay still. His fingers twitched, desperate to put an end to the torturous wait. He was so hard it was unbearable—just seeing you like this had him on the edge.

He didn’t hesitate to help, making quick work of what little fabric still separated you. And fuck, you were drenched. Just the sight of him like this—wrecked for you—had your whole body tightening in anticipation.

There were so many ways this could go, and you wanted them all. One night would never be enough.

Your hand wrapped around him, firm, deliberate. A shaky curse tumbled from his lips, his head tipping back as he melted into your touch. He was barely holding it together when you lifted your hips, and for a second, he thought you were going to sink down onto him. Instead, you slid against him, rolling your hips so he could feel everything—dragging over your entrance, teasing up to your clit before sliding back down.

“Holy shit,” Bangchan groaned, voice strangled.

His hands twitched, reaching for you, aching to do something. But before he could, you leaned in, pinning his wrists down against the mattress.

He was at your mercy now. Completely helpless. And he fucking loved it.

Meanwhile, your hips kept moving, sliding over him, teasing but never giving in. The sheer size of him, the way he dragged against your clit with every slick roll of your hips—it was maddening. You lost all sense of rhythm, chasing pleasure in short, frantic motions, needing more, always more.

Bangchan was wrecked beneath you. His breath came in ragged bursts, his chest rising and falling as he groaned through clenched teeth, letting you take what you wanted. And the sight of him like this completely undone because of you? It was enough to make your head spin.

Your wetness mixed with his pre-cum, making a mess between you, the heat of it dizzying. Another deep grunt tore from his throat, and fuck—his orgasm was creeping up way too fast. He wasn’t about to let that happen. Not yet.

Your grip on his wrists loosened, your body trembling above him, so damn close—

“Want me to fuck you?” the words were a rasp, low and filthy against your skin.

And God, hearing him say it like that, made you feel absolutely ruined.

You were right there, wavering on the edge, but then—Bangchan’s hands gripped your waist, flipping you with ease. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he pulled away, standing at the edge of the bed.

For a second, frustration flared hot in your chest—he’d just ripped away a mind-numbing orgasm—but the way he looked at you, eyes dark and full of promise, made it clear.

He wasn’t done. Not even close.

With impressive speed, Bangchan yanked your panties down, leaving you in nothing but that tiny skirt. You reached for your blouse, tearing it off without a second thought. Meanwhile, he fished a condom from his pocket, standing at the foot of the bed like he owned the place.

You bit your lip, taking in the sight of him—so big, so stupidly gorgeous.

Bangchan climbed onto the bed, his strong hands wrapping around your thighs, keeping them pressed together. His voice was low, commanding. "Spread your legs."

Your breath hitched, but you obeyed, parting them slowly. The skirt inched higher, higher, until it was bunched up around your waist.

He muttered something under his breath, gaze locked on how wet you were—for him. Almost dripping. You bit your lip, the weight of the moment thick in the air. "Please..."

Bangchan leaned in, kissing your stomach, then up to your chest. One arm braced against the bed, the other gripping himself as he brushed his cock against your cunt. The slow drag, the teasing, was cruel, and he knew it. He was watching you unravel—your body torn between frustration and aching need.

You were this close to grabbing him, to taking what you needed, but before you could, he caught your wrists in one hand, pinning them down.

"I'll let you..." his voice was a husky whisper, dark and full of promise. He kept that agonizing friction going, dragging against you, just enough to drive you insane. "But you have to tell me."

You were burning up, mind hazy, barely able to process his words. "Bangchan," you tried for something firm, but the second the tip of his cock rubbed against your clit—just the right mix of pleasure and frustration—a strangled moan slipped out instead.

"Tell me what you want, and it's yours," he murmured against your lips, smug as ever.

Your gaze met his, dark and needy. He picked up the pace, teasing you mercilessly—only to stop again. You let out a desperate whimper. This was torture.

"Just say it, love."

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, frustration bubbling over. "Your ego is too big."

Bangchan chuckled against your skin, stealing a quick kiss. "You know what else is big?"

You hooked a leg around his waist, pulling him in close. His breath caught, and for a second, he just looked at you—lips parted, eyes searching yours, ready to dive in.

"Guess you'll have to show me."

And Bangchan never turned down a challenge.

The moment he let you go, he was all action—rolling on the condom with practiced ease before yanking you flush against him. "Gonna fuck you so good you'll take it all back."

Then he slammed into you, deep, all at once, knocking the breath from your lungs. Stars burst behind your eyelids. Fuck, you’d never get used to the stretch. And neither would he, not with how tight you clenched around him, inch by inch.

Bangchan started slow, deliberate, watching every little reaction like he was committing it to memory.

"More," you gasped, nails dragging down his back.

And who was he to deny you?

A low, guttural curse slipped from his lips as he gripped the back of your leg, struggling to keep himself in check. But even he was failing. That dark, insatiable hunger inside him wanted to ruin you, break you apart piece by piece, and devour whatever was left.

"Yeah..." his hand found the back of your neck, and in one brutal motion, he buried himself to the hilt. Your eyes rolled back as a cry of pure pleasure ripped from your throat. "Fuck."

He did it again. And again. Testing you. Seeing just how much you could take. And then restraint snapped—his rhythm shifted from slow, deliberate thrusts to deep, relentless strokes that had you gasping, moaning, melting beneath him.

Your lungs fought for air, your body wrecked by the force of him. A tangled mess of curses and broken sounds spilled from your lips.

Bangchan leaned down, catching your mouth in a searing kiss, fucking you through every ragged breath. The filthy, desperate moans leaving his lips had you clinging to him, desperate to consume every last one.

"Bangchan—my God!" your fingers dug into his back like an anchor, but you were weightless, floating, dissolving into nothing.

You tried to pull him closer, but he straightened, still gripping your throat, keeping you right where he wanted.

"Say it." his thrusts were brutal, hitting so deep you thought you’d break apart. Faster. Harder. You cried out, a mess of pleasure and desperation, dizzy on the edge of something devastating."Tell me— you want me? Wanna cum on my cock?"

Your vision blurred, the sheer intensity forcing a tear to the corner of your eye. It was too much, but not enough, never enough.

"I want you," you choked out, voice ragged, shaking. "Fuck—" you barely finished the sentence before your body gave in, collapsing into pure, obliterating pleasure.

Bangchan caught your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking on it before murmuring against your mouth, “Good girl.”

Then his hand slipped between your bodies, finding your clit as he thrust into you, his fingers moving in tandem with his strokes. And that was it. The tipping point. Your back arched, but he pressed a firm hand to your stomach, pinning you down as pleasure overtook you. The last few thrusts sent you spiraling, your body clenching tight around him as you came hard, waves crashing over you.

Bangchan cursed under his breath, his grip tightening as his own release hit him like a freight train. "Fuck, fuck, fuck—" his whole body tensed, abs flexing as he emptied himself, barely managing to keep from collapsing on top of you.

Your chest rose and fell in sync with his, both of you wrecked, tangled, completely undone. He was so close, his forehead pressing against yours, damp hair sticking to his skin. And just like that, you kissed him—slow, deep, something unspoken passing between you. A shift.

Something had changed, and you both felt it.

"We need to stop doing this," you muttered against his lips.

Bangchan pulled back slightly, his brows knitting together. "What...?"

"Having sex in strangers’ rooms," you teased, the corner of your mouth quirking up. "Bad habit."

Relief flickered across his face before it was replaced by something far more dangerous. "Then let’s go to mine," he said smoothly, his voice thick with intent. "I’m not done with you."

You just laughed, shaking your head as you reached for your clothes. No argument, no teasing comeback—just that breathless, satisfied chuckle that told him you were just as wrecked as he was. And God, he admired you. The way you moved, the way you carried herself, as if what just happened was the most natural thing in the world. Like you hadn’t just left him completely undone.

He leaned back against the bed, watching as you slipped your blouse on, covering up inch by inch what he had just memorized with his hands, his lips, his tongue. A damn shame.

“I could go like this all night,” he murmured, voice thick with lust. His eyes dragged over you, slow and deliberate. “I’d never get tired of you.”

You paused for half a second, then, with a smirk, you glanced at him over your shoulder.

“Sweet talk won’t get you another round.”

He grinned, unbothered. “Who said I was asking?”

"Alright, lover boy," you sighed, straightening your skirt. "Call Changbin so we can get out of here before we end up adding ‘breaking and entering’ to our list of bad decisions."

But Bangchan just huffed out a laugh, reaching into his back pocket. You frowned, watching as he pulled out something small, something metallic—

And then he dangled a tiny key in front of your face.

Your breath caught. "You absolute—"

"Had the key the whole time?" he finished for you, grinning like the unapologetic menace he was.

You just stared at him, utterly gagged. "Are you telling me we could’ve left at any time—and you let me believe we were locked in here?!"

Bangchan had the audacity to laugh, and before you could get a single word of protest out, he grabbed your wrist, yanking you against him and crashing his lips onto yours. You let him. You melted into it, kissed him back like you weren’t even a little mad.

When he finally pulled away, his breath ghosted over your lips as he murmured, "I’m sorry, baby." But he was still laughing. Not sorry at all.

"No, you’re not," you shot back, trying—and failing—to sound pissed.

"You’re right," he admitted without shame, pressing another kiss to your mouth, slower this time, smug and indulgent. "But, in my defense… I knew you wanted me just as bad as I wanted you."

You narrowed your eyes, heat licking at your spine because—damn it—he wasn’t wrong.

Cocky bastard.

Still, you snatched the key from his fingers and shoved him toward the door. "Move before I leave your ass locked in here and tell everyone you cried for help."

Bangchan just smirked, twisting the doorknob with infuriating ease. "Joke’s on you—I’d make it sound sexy."

Bangchan slipped out first, leaving you alone in the dimly lit bedroom, the air still thick with everything that just happened. You took a breath, running a hand through your hair and letting out a low, incredulous laugh. Insane. That was the only word for it. Completely, absolutely, batshit insane.

You took your time freshening up before heading downstairs, blending back into the party like nothing happened—like your whole world hadn’t just been flipped on its head by a cocky bastard with unfairly good hands.

You found the drinks and poured yourself a beer, the cold liquid grounding you, when Hyunjin appeared at your side, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Mingyu was looking for you,” he said, tilting his head. “For a while. Then he gave up and left.”

You took a slow sip of your beer, carefully masking any reaction. “Huh. Tragic.”

Hyunjin squinted. “Okay, where the hell have you been?”

You shot him an easy smirk. “In the bathroom, Hyunjin. I have bodily functions like every other human being.”

His eyes narrowed further. “For that long?”

“Maybe I got lost,” you said with a shrug, taking another sip. “Or maybe I was reevaluating all my life choices.”

Hyunjin was still staring at you, unconvinced. “You were with someone.”

You huffed. “Stop being nosy and dance with me.”

Before he could pry any further, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him onto the dance floor. The bass thumped through your veins as you moved to the beat, thankful for the temporary distraction. But Hyunjin was sharp—too sharp. His gaze flickered to something over your shoulder, and then his lips parted in realization.

You didn’t have to turn around to know. You felt it.

Bangchan was across the room, talking to Changbin and Seungmin like he hadn’t just been inside you not too long ago. But the way he looked at you—steady, knowing, like he was still feeling every second of what just happened—Hyunjin caught it immediately.

“No way.” he gaped at you. “You didn’t.”

You met his stare, unfazed. “I did.”

Hyunjin groaned, rubbing his face like this was his personal crisis. “You two are so fucking messy.”

You just laughed, finishing the rest of your beer. “And yet, I’m having a great time.”

A while later, when you finally decided you’d had enough social interaction for one night, you nudged Hyunjin. “I’m heading out.”

He nodded. “Cool, I’ll get you an Uber. I’ll go with Lix.”

Before you could even reach for your phone, a familiar voice interrupted. “No need.”

Bangchan. Standing way too close, hands in his pockets, looking like the devil who got exactly what he wanted.

“I’m driving back,” he said smoothly. “I’ll take you.”

Your mouth opened, but Hyunjin’s eyebrow was already rising, looking between the two of you like he had front-row seats to a drama he needed to see play out.

“I can go alone,” you said, keeping your voice level.

Bangchan smirked. “I insist.”

You sighed, side-eyeing Hyunjin. His expression was nothing short of feral with interest.

“Fine,” you muttered. “But no funny business.”

Bangchan only chuckled, walking off first. You lingered behind for a few beats before following, slipping out quietly, only Hyunjin watching your exit with a smug, entertained look.

He was never letting you live this down.

The night air was sharp against your flushed skin, a cruel contrast to the heat still licking at your nerves. Bangchan stood by his car—a sleek, black beauty that suited him too well. Under the dim glow of the streetlights, he looked almost unreal, all sharp lines and confidence as he pulled the passenger door open, his gaze never leaving yours.

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to get in. But because you knew—the second you did, there’d be no turning back from whatever the hell this was becoming.

Bangchan saw right through you. He always did.

His voice dipped low, rough with amusement. “Get in, baby. Or I’ll put you in myself.”

Your stomach flipped. You rolled your eyes, masking the way his words sent a pulse of heat straight through you. “Such a gentleman,” you muttered, but your lips twitched, betraying you.

Still, you slid into the seat, the cool leather kissing your bare thighs. He followed, reaching over—closer, closer—until his fingers brushed the seatbelt, tugging it across you.

And suddenly, the air inside the car felt thick. Heavy.

His breath ghosted over your collarbone, close enough that his lips could’ve skimmed your skin if you so much as moved. You could feel the warmth of him, the way his fingers lingered just a second too long before clicking the buckle into place.

Your throat went dry.

You cleared it quickly, forcing out something—anything—to cut through the tension threatening to swallow you whole. “I’m exhausted.”

He pulled back just enough to smirk. “Sure you are.”

The car hummed to life, but your brain? It was shot to hell.

Because now you had to sit there and endure the sight of him driving one-handed, muscles flexing, veins peeking through his skin like temptation itself. It was obscene, the way he handled the car—like he did everything else. With control. With ease.

You swallowed, shifting in your seat, pressing your legs together.

Bangchan noticed. Of course, he did.

His smirk deepened, eyes flicking toward you before drifting back to the road. “Something wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lied, voice far too even to be convincing.

He made a sound, low in his throat, clearly unconvinced. Then, like he lived to ruin you, his hand dropped to your thigh—warm, steady, fingers pressing just enough to make you feel it.

Your breath hitched. “Bangchan.”

He leaned in slightly, just enough to let you catch the edge of his scent—clean, intoxicating, laced with something that made your pulse stutter. His thumb stroked slow, lazy circles against your skin.

“You’re always ready for me, aren’t you?” his voice was nothing but a taunt, silk-wrapped sin.

A shiver licked down your spine. The worst part? He was right. And he fucking knew it.

His fingers crept higher, brushing against the inside of your thigh, deliberate and slow. “I could fuck you right here,” he murmured, his breath feather-light against your ear. “No one would see. No one would know.”

Your body responded before your brain did, every nerve alight, screaming at you to let this happen.

But you had to be smart. For once.

With every ounce of restraint you had left, you grabbed his wrist, halting his movements before they ruined you completely. “I have to go.”

For a moment, he just looked at you, eyes dark, unreadable. Then, his lips curled—not in disappointment, but something far more dangerous.

“Fine.”

But before you could breathe, before you could move, he reached for you, tilting your chin up with maddening ease. His gaze locked onto yours, deep and knowing, before his tongue swept over your bottom lip, slow, deliberate, claiming.

Then he kissed you. Deep. Slow. Devastating.

By the time he pulled away, you were wrecked. Breathless.

“Goodnight, baby,” he murmured, unlocking the door like he hadn’t just unraveled you in a single move.

You barely remembered getting out, legs weaker than they had any right to be. As you walked back to your dorm, dazed and burning, one thought rattled through your skull like a warning you’d never heed:

He’s gonna be the death of me.

♡ taglist ― @kenia4@chrizrizz @meerabmalik @gnabnahcsworld @gncbnahc @jinniejjam @skzworldx @itsacatastrophe-xo @soonie1010 @4ng3l-ch1ld @justwonder113 @tsunderelino @eastjonowhere @lyracarvahall @akindaflora @victoriaaf @ebnabi @wickedbutlovely @bitchysunflower11 @grandpasb0ng

[chosolar]

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈ I fantasize about it all the time

geto suguru x fem!reader

suguru was a nervous wreck the first time he performed in front of actual people. he's only ever sang in front of his camera with his face covered, so singing in front of people who'll either cheer or boo him made his heart beat faster.

suguru saw you walking up to him after he was done. he'd seen you a couple of times around campus, but he never thought he'd get a chance to talk to you. turns out he was right because a flock of new fans pushed you away to get closer to suguru. their eyes pale in comparison to yours, which twinkled even if you were in the dark and the stage lights made it hard for him to see anyone's face except yours.

popular!suguru got a lot of attention after his performance and he didn't mind it, but he felt like it was a chore keeping up with everyone who was trying to get with him. none of them were you, and he felt restless trying to find your face amongst the sea of girls calling out to him day after day.

popular!suguru felt like the world stopped the moment he saw you again. it had been at least 2 months since the night of the performance but he was so glad to get your name this time.

popular!suguru followed you on any social media accounts you have ASAP when he learned your name. he did not care that it seemed desperate, he'd been waiting for the day he can go through your accounts. what do you like? do you post often? you don't show your face often in your posts but suguru wonders who's the person behind the phone taking the pictures of you.

popular!suguru is annoyed when he refreshes on his instagram feed and a story you just posted shows up. suguru never minds seeing your gleaming smile, what irks him though is the fact some random guy is hugging you with the caption "happy 6 months <3".

popular!suguru doesn't believe in speaking things out in the universe but between him and the stars - suguru is praying on the downfall of your relationship. of course he doesn't want you to get hurt! he won't mind it though if you come running into his arms.

popular!suguru keeps a tight lipped smile on his face when you introduce your boyfriend to him. being his best friend for quite a long time, satoru can see suguru's exasperation and decides to keep it in the back of his mind so he can bug him about it later. suguru denies any allegations though, you're just his adorable new friend that he can't get out of his mind.

popular!suguru can't get off unless he thinks of you. he loves imagining what it'd sound like when you moan his name, how cute you'd look under suguru's body, struggling to take all of him. he swears he's never finished as fast as when he imagines that you're in front of him.

popular!suguru does whatever he can to get closer to you. he spills any intimate secrets with you so you feel comfortable coming to him when you and your boyfriend have a fight. he'll listen to you rant and he'll lend you his shoulder to cry on, and everytime you come crying to suguru, he knows you're slowly losing feelings for the other guy.

popular!suguru sends you audio messages of him singing whenever you ask him to do so. he hates singing for anyone but if it's for you, he doesn't mind. suguru would also start a joint playlist with you and ask you to add all your favourite acoustic songs so he can learn them for you.

popular!suguru changed all his social media accounts to private because he was tired of all the dms he got from girls trying to talk to him. all of the notifications he was getting from randoms were crowding his phone so he muted the notifications and privated his accounts. even if you're with someone else, suguru wants you to know that you have all of his undivided attention.

popular!suguru got bored of going out every weekend. clubbing and partying, shots after shots, he was burnt out and would end up feeling empty inside the morning after. suguru stills go out from time to time but he avoids any large crowds now. he usually just has one drink, stays for an hour (1.5 MAX), then leaves so he can talk to you.

popular!suguru notices that you've been fighting with your boyfriend a lot more than usual. your phone's almost always on DND and he sees the mass texts your boyfriend sends you everytime you're out with them. he doesn't push you to tell him anything because he knows in time, you'll be coming to him ranting about how your boyfriend cannot stay loyal.

popular!suguru knows that despite your constant arguments with your boyfriend, he makes sures to respect the boundaries you set. he would hate to lose you over some meaningless guy so he'll play along with it, pretending that he doesn't have feelings for you but he knows better.

popular!suguru lost touch with you after the college graduation. you stopped posting and you've been so dry with him that he knows something's wrong but he can't seem to message you. he's not sure how to go about connecting with you again. should he said a simple "hi haven't spoken to you in a while" or just a "hey how are you doing?" but suguru doesn't write anything.

popular!suguru doesn't sing as much or post as often on his youtube account but whenever he does upload a singing cover, he sees that you're the first one to like and comment. he thinks it's so precious that you think he doesn't know that that account is you so he plays dumb - replying to only your comment amongst the thousands of comments he's received.

popular!suguru still doesn't bother entertaining any of the people trying to hit him up. even if it's been a while since he's seen you, he can't bring himself to get over you even if you two were just friends. sure the people who are hitting him up would typically be the people he goes for, but you, there's just something about you that he can't move on from.

popular!suguru is still not a fan of just hooking up. he did it a couple of times during college and as fun as it was for the night, suguru would always just feel shame the day after as he wants a connection like what he had with you. no one can hold a candle to the way you made suguru feel, and he doesn't want to find out if anyone can compare to you.

popular!suguru can't believe his eyes when he sees you outside the bar. he stepped out for a quick smoke break when he accidentally met eyes with you. it brought him back to the night he was performing and you were there in the audience, cheering for him loudly. suguru puts out his cigarette quickly and stutters over his words trying to greet you.

popular!suguru asks the basic questions when you step closer to him. he feels like an idiot who can't get the right words out of his mouth. the cool suguru who never gets shy is suddenly flustered when you make eye contact with him.

popular!suguru mentally cheers when you tell him you're not with your boyfriend anymore. all he heard was "oh I'm not with him anymore" and everything else went in one ear and came out the other. he pries on a little further, getting some more details of when and why you two broke up. he plays it cool instead of making more of a fool of himself, telling you that you two should go out and catch up.

"are you asking me out on a date?" you grinned. suguru chuckles, pleased to see you being more bold now that you're single. "it can be if you want it to be."

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈

making a part two for random headcanons of popular suguru!!! I lowkey have been wanting to write a fic based of ari's unreleased song "fantasize" but I didn't know who fit it best and I lowkey think suguru fits it the best.

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Champagne Problems

Teen Wolf » Sterek

Title: Champagne Problems

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: Teen Wolf (Masterlist)

Relationship: Derek Hale x Stiles Stilinski

AO3 Rating: Teen & Up (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: Stiles has got champagne problems. No, really. He's had way too many mimosas. A game of tipsy truth or dare at a New Year's Eve pack party ends with Stiles accidentally blurting out that he's in love with Derek…right in front of the sourwolf himself.

"Alright, fine," Erica simpers. "I dare you to tell us who you've got a crush on." "Because we all know there's someone," Lydia insists, giving him a pointed look. "Someone you've clearly been pining after for years now," Danny agrees. "So just come clean, Stilinski. Tell us who it is." Stiles, who is absolutely smashed off his ass at this point in the game, rolls his eyes so hard he sees stars. "Nice try, assholes," he teases with a sing-song lilt and a self-satisfied smile. "But there's no way in hell I'm ever gonna tell you I'm in love with Derek, so you can just—" Somewhere in the distance, a champagne flute shatters, and suddenly, Derek is just there, looming in the distance, eyebrows arched so high they practically straddle his hairline.

Read On AO3 | Read On Tumblr:

Stiles has got champagne problems.

No, really. He's had way too many mimosas.

He'd like to blame Lydia for supplying the Dom Pérignon for tonight's festivities, but really, it's his own fault for thinking he had the stamina to keep up with the brunch quartet. Allison, at least, has the decency to look sympathetic, but Lydia, Isaac, and Danny haven't stopped laughing for a good ten minutes now, ebbing to a series of breath-catching sighs, only to start right back up again with a hastily stifled snort the second Stiles stumbles over his words, doubled over and clutching each other in an attempt to remain upright.

Which, under any normal circumstances, would be totally fine. It's just that drunk Stiles tends to be a bit of a talker. Okay, fine. More of a talker than usual. Like, the kind that has absolutely no reservations about spilling his deepest, darkest secrets to anyone who will listen; no filter, no shame. And Stiles? Yeah, he's determined to take this secret to the grave. 

And if, by some stroke of bad luck, he does manage to run his mouth tonight, well…he's had a good run. Twenty-two is a ripe old age to curl up and die from embarrassment, right? At least he can pride himself on the fact that he's made it six whole years without the pack of human lie detectors he calls his friends and family sniffing him out.

Or so he thinks.

What he doesn't know is that nearly everyone in the pack, including Scott's mom and Stiles's dad, has known for years now that Stiles and Derek have got it bad for each other, and that they're both too stubborn and stupid to do anything about it. Being the meddlesome lovable assholes that they are, they've finally decided that enough is enough, and that it's time to take matters into their own hands. 

Which is how Stiles ends up in a crowded corner of the living room, swept up in a game of tipsy Truth Or Dare.

It starts off innocently enough, spilling truths about kindergarten crushes and drunken college escapades, daring each other to take shots of awful combos like watermelon Smirnoff and Bailey's Irish cream. But then it starts to get weirdly specific, and Stiles can't help but feel like maybe the universe is conspiring against him, because—

"Stiles, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Who are you going to kiss at midnight?" Allison asks, giggling when Scott leans in to press a kiss against her dimpled cheek.

"Uhhh, no one," Stiles frowns. "You know, since I'm pretty much the only one here not coupled up in disgustingly adorable romantic bliss."

He gestures between the two of them and mimes vomiting rainbows.

"Everyone except for Derek," Danny helpfully supplies.

Stiles swallows nervously. 

"Right, yeah. I, uh…forgot."

Like hell he did.

"Stiles…truth or dare?"

The smile Lydia gives him is downright predatory.

"Uhh…dare, I guess."

Stiles watches Lydia exchange conspiratorial glances with Allison and Danny, and narrows his eyes in suspicion.

"I dare you to kiss the last person you texted at midnight."

Which — of fucking course — just so happens to be Derek, of all people.

Which Lydia knows damn well, having stolen his phone for a group photo just moments before.

Stiles is beginning to sense a theme here…

"Yeah, okay," Stiles chokes out around a nervous chuckle, rolling his eyes. "I think I'll pass. I don't feel like going into the New Year with my throat ripped out, thanks."

He can't be certain, but he thinks he hears Lydia mumble something to the effect of god, you're both such oblivious idiots under her breath. And…yeah, Erica definitely just rolled her eyes. What the hell?

"Fine, I'll choose another one. I dare you to…" she taps one perfectly manicured finger against her chin thoughtfully. "…send a sexy selfie to the last person you texted."

Stiles gives her a pleading look, but Lydia just stares back at him expectantly, one threatening eyebrow arched.

With a resigned sigh, Stiles pulls out his phone, tilts the camera like it's 2003 and he's angling for the perfect myspace profile pic, and gives the camera a cheeky half-smile. He opens his text thread with Derek, smirking to himself as he reads over the last thing they'd written to one another just hours before — a heated debate over who made a better villain, Voldemort or Umbridge — and texts the photo to Derek with a hasty apology.

sorry, we're playing truth or dare, Lydia made me

Heart kicking up speed, he watches Derek glance down at his phone, chest puffing out as he takes in a sudden, sharp breath, before a smile that makes Stiles melt into a puddle spreads across his face.

Ugh. Curse Derek Hale for having a smile like actual fucking sunshine.

A few seconds later, Stiles's phone buzzes.

I don't mind. It's a good photo of you.

The blush that burns across his face could start a bonfire.

He doesn't realize it's his turn again until Erica is threatening to steal his phone and use it to send Derek one of the many unsolicited dick pics she's received over the years, complete with a winking emoji and a cheesy pick-up line. Stiles blanches, gaze snapping up from his phone screen to catch the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Whoah, calm down there, Satan," Stiles teases, slipping his phone back into his pocket, hands held up in surrender.

Erica smiles sweetly at him. He's never felt more terrified.

"Now that I have your attention…truth or dare, Stilinski."

"Truth," he says, which, judging by the positively wolfish grin that spreads across her face, is a mistake. 

She asks him if he's ever wanted to kiss anyone in the pack, which devolves into a game of Never Have I Ever, which somehow ends up turning into a round of Fuck, Marry, Kill during which Stiles accidentally chooses to both fuck and marry Derek.

(In his defense, his only other options were Gerard Argent and a Berserker, so…)

"Shit," he says, a fresh wave of heat swimming through his veins from the victory shot he'd just done for winning Never Have I Ever. He's pretty sure whoever manages to put the most fingers down first is supposed to be the one who drinks, but…well, who's counting?

"I just chose Derek twice, didn't I?" he asks sheepishly.

"Yes you did, sweetie," Erica giggles, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Yes you did."

Stiles chances a glance over at Derek, who's standing at the kitchen island with a champagne flute in his hand, deep in conversation with Boyd, Isaac, and Jackson, and breathes a sigh of relief.

"Alright, buddy, I've got one for you," Scott chimes in, slinging an arm around his shoulders and swaying a little on the spot. Looks like someone went a little hard on the wolfsbane-laced whiskey. "But you've gotta pick truth."

"O…kay," Stiles agrees reluctantly.

"Do you have a crush on anyone?" Scott poses with a knowing smile. And like, okay…Stiles is vaguely aware that Scott has probably suspected for quite some time now, but he didn't think his best friend would ever call him out on it.

Stiles brushes it off with a laugh and scoffs, "What are you, five? Who even says 'crush' anymore?"

"Uh…you do," Scott frowns. "Remember? Just last week, when you said you had a crush on that guy who plays Superman in that new show on The CW—"

"Yes, okay, fine," Stiles concedes, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Whatever, I'm switching to dare."

Scott gives him his patented puppy-dog pout.

"Alright, fine," Erica simpers. "I dare you to tell us who you've got a crush on."

"Because we all know there's someone," Lydia insists, giving him a pointed look.

"Someone you've clearly been pining after for years now," Danny agrees, somehow managing to look both fond and exasperated all at once. "So just come clean, Stilinski. Tell us who it is."

Stiles, who is absolutely smashed off his ass at this point in the game, rolls his eyes so hard he sees stars.

"Nice try, assholes," he teases with a sing-song lilt and a self-satisfied smile. "But there's no way in hell I'm ever gonna tell you I'm in love with Derek, so you can just—"

Somewhere in the distance, a champagne flute shatters, and suddenly, Derek is just there, looming in the distance, eyebrows arched so high they practically straddle his hairline.

It takes a few seconds for his brain to catch up to his mouth, and then the realization of what he'd just said dawns on him. Stiles claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide in comical horror as he sinks to the floor and covers his face in the palms of his hands. He suddenly feels a lot less warm and fuzzy, and about ten shades more sober.

Moments later, he feels a pair of strong arms lift him into a standing position. Hesitantly, he moves his hands away from his face and finds Derek standing right in front of him, wide eyes warm and bright, a tentative smile curling across his face. 

He's so pretty when he smiles, Stiles thinks stupidly. He hopes Derek will let him down gently.

"So uhh…how much of that did you hear?" Stiles asks, sheepish smile coming across as more of a grimace.

"All of it," Derek replies with a hint of amused fondness in his voice.

Stiles is vaguely aware of how quiet the room has gone, music and chatter fading to a gentle hum as his entire world zeroes in on the man standing in front of him. 

The rest of the pack looks on like they're watching a soap opera. He's not sure how, but he thinks he even sees Isaac produce a lawn chair and a bowl of popcorn, nudging it toward Scott and Boyd.

"Oh," Stiles says, sounding small, resigned. He winces, preparing for the inevitable rejection.

"Stiles," Derek says softly, and Stiles swears his name has never sounded so sweet. When he looks back up, Derek is staring at him with a positively radiant smile on his face, forest eyes sparkling in the glow of the fairy lights strung around the living room. He reaches a hand up to gently cup Stiles's face, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against the hollow of Stiles's cheekbones as he leans forward and kisses him. 

There's an eruption of cheers and catcalls all around them, Derek's smile a hard line against his lips as a rumble of laughter vibrates through Stiles's chest.

They spend the rest of the evening curled up on the couch, too wrapped up in each other to care that they've missed the New Year countdown.

[gldexpnce]

Honestly i really loved your writings and i would like to requests a yandere giorno scenario with a s/o who is a painter and acts quite cold and unbothered towards giorno once he kidnaps her. But one day she decides to ask him for some oil paint supplies to pass the time and ends up painting a portrait of giorno since he was the only good reference to paint. How would he react to the sudden gesture? (I think it would be quite a good scenario since valentines day just passed lmao)

a/n: hello my dear :3, thank you for the request!! i love the idea of giorno with a colder s/o, since she is harder to read he's more willing to cling to whatever is revealed of her interest!! i'm so sorry for the late update but i hope you enjoy this piece! i was literally listening to laufey songs when i was writing this.

tw: this will contain mentions of kidnapping and as always, yandere content ! goodies under the cut :3

image by アリナ on pixiv

GIORNO GIOVANNA

giorno expected you to put up a fight when he informed you that you would not be leaving his villa. when you didn't, it stunned him. that still didn't make the coldness of your gaze sting any less than a slap to his face.

despite the setback, he made sure you had everything you needed inside his home. he had a dedicated room where you had your paints and a beautiful view of the expansive gardens. it was there that you had your solace.

you'd spend hours in that room, away from him. you only really came out to eat, but you dedicated all of your time to art. he respected your skills, after all, that is how the both of you met.

he'd been a lover of the arts for quite some time, and when he heard of an aspiring artist hosting a gallery exhibit, he wanted to see it for himself. when he entered that gallery, he was enraptured with the way you painted. even as something as simple as a still life portrait, or paintings of outside scenery, you captured the life of it. most paintings he found, lacked the vibrancy of life, oh but you. dear you. you captured it all.

perhaps that is why he was struck by the idea of you. being able to capture life so accurately, you certainly must be full of the vibrancy you so easily painted.

again, he was surprised. you weren't what he imagined at all. that was the beauty of you. you never failed to surprise him.

he was able to coerce you into his villa with the promise of a stable place to live. it is hard for artists to make a living nowadays, so you'd be remiss to deny such a generous offer from a rich benefactor, even if you had doubts about his intentions

it had been several months since that fateful day and unexpectedly, you graced him with your presence, willingly. you stepped into his office and if he squinted, he could sense the trepidation in your words.

"signore giovanna, i'd like to request some oil paints", you briskly turned around and left.

this is new. even if he did want to gently remind you to call him giorno, he didn't have the heart to scold you, after all, this is a first!

you'd normally never make requests. if giorno noticed your paints, watercolor or medium otherwise, were running low, you'd find a new set unopened by morning. this is your first request and he is determined to only give you the best of oil paints. he even personally gave them to you, he had the wrapping themed for valentines day since you had asked for it a hairsbreadth away from the holiday. he's nothing if not a romantic.

in another unexpected surprise, you asked him to come with you to your art room. you asked him to sit down on the chaise below the window. he wonders what exactly you had planned. all his questions are answered though as you sit behind your easel and begin to paint. he waited for you patiently, holding his pose as you sketched him out and then painted.

he studied your collections intensively throughout your permanent stay. he never once saw a portrait of a person or a self-portrait for that matter. there's a small stutter of heartbeat when he realized that he is your first portrait.

"i'm finished", you get up and back up a step to look at your work. giorno got up as well, standing beside you.

there was that stuttering heartbeat. he feels the heat rush up his cheeks. you captured him beautifully. from the look in his eyes to the curls of his blonde hair, every detail is meticulous. he was almost taken aback by the beauty of it.

he didn't outright ask you, but you answered him anyway, "i wanted to paint you since you were the best subject for it"

out of the corner of his eye, he swore he could see the faintest smile on your lips and the beautifully fond look in your eyes.

this is a step, small to you but a leap for him. your walls are cracking chip by chip of his hammer and he is determined to see it crumble.

[bialejaja]

Random thought, no preference on general of character if any were chosen to pick a song, which and why? 👁️👁️

I decided to do each character, expect I did a quick doodle and huge explanation...

Lamb

Inspired: Przekleństwo w Millhaven - Katarzyna Groniec

It's a song about a religious girl killing people in the name of god

(Translated)Line that reminds me of them:

"This inquiry is depressing and unfair

How do you dare to punish me in the name of the law

The earthly passions aren't for me

I was the one that crossed the step to eternity

I know very well that death is not a game

Over the world rings the bell of despair

So may God's hand protect you

Tra la la tra la la la...

You do not know the day nor the hour - only God knows that!"

Would pick: Krew Boga - Kult

The song is that the singer sees god's blood and asks people to think about what they did, if they really killed him

Line that reminds me of them:

"Look at your hands and faces

They're red from God's blood

Consider what you've made

Have you really killed Him"

Narinder

Inspired: Doubt - The Bridge City Sinner

Just listen to it...

Line that reminds me of him:

"Doused in blood

Bathed in tears

You are the enemy

It's you you should fear

Hear them talk

The lies they spread

Don't give into the voices in your head"

Would pick: Umarłe słowa - Obywatel C.G

About dead words. Death in general

Line:

"I am organizing the burrial

Dead words

And from your dead bodies

I arrange some more sentences

I know your opressors

They are standing around

Keeping guard, just like me

So you can't ressurect"

Leshy

Inspired and would pick: Sol Invictus

About the birth of a new sun

(I choose this song because it's slavic and Leshy is my Slavic Icon)

Line:

"O courtiers, courtiers, do not wander around at night

Or this little Christmas tree will easily gouge your eyes out!"

Kallamar

Inspired: птахи летять додому - Hatespeech

It's about birds flying home (Imagine birds as humans)

(Translated)Line:

"Howling storms, sickly song

In panic, can't hear words of own

Beating the fear, beating the wrong

Birds fly home

Howling storms, sickly song

In panic, can't hear words of my own

They are stuck and all alone

But sill... birds fly home"

Would pick: Exile - Taylor Swift

Listen, I don't listen to Taylor Swift, I don't like her, but Kallamar's spotify wrapped on cotl official account is... Well... Uh. Mostly Taylor Swift... HE IS A SWIFTIE.

And that's it.

[sfsolstice]

Keep determination burning in your heart Keep on pedaling until you fall apart And I will not leave you alone And if you died here, I would carry you home

[yourlocalguardian]

Shitty drawing I scribbled out of thing that happened last night

:p

Actual gif clip from the movie of what I was half seeing btw:

I was getting like. Half third person seeing myself and half first person of it

[mintandcreme]

you mentioned you were in your vpop era on a post, can you give me some recs? 👀

OMG?! I’m so grateful you asked because I’ve been wanting to talk about it to someone but haven’t got the chance. THANK YOU lol! I got kind of carried away though… :( so I’m super sorry about it. I translated the names and summarized the lyrics (or it was an attempt to cause they’re kinda off 🤡) so you can choose which ones interest you the most 😭

On the bright side, more options cause I’m not sure about your taste! (Some of these I don’t listen to though haha)! Ballads:

Phía Sau Mot Co Gai [Behind a Girl] - Soobin Hoàng Sơn - {Unrequited love, so he watches from afar and wishes he had known her sooner}

2. Giá Như Em Nhìn Lại [Pretend You Looked Back] - JSOL - {Regret towards a past relationship - wish he had known the outcome}

3. Đủ Xa Tình Sẽ Cũ [When Far Away Enough, Love Will Get Old] - JSOL (My favorite song right now) - {Waiting for someone who never comes}

4. Không Thể Cùng Nhau Suốt Kiếp [Can’t Be Together Forever] - Hoa Minzy (my favorite version is with Hoa Minzy, Duc Phuc, and Erik for the high notes, but the more heartbreaking version is the one with Hoa Minzy and Mr. Siro) - {Is heartbroken and wonders why they broke up}

5. Đợi đến tháng 13 [Wait Until The 13th Month] - Vu Thịnh - {Relationship ended yet still waiting for something impossible}

6. Anh Cứ Đi Đi [Just Go] - Hari Won - {Guy cheats, girl tells him to leave because he cheated, and cause she wants to see him happy 💀}

Cute??? Songs:

Hiếm Có Khó Tìm [Rare and Hard to Find] - JSOL, Han Sara - {You’re the one I’ve been looking for}

2. Trên Tình Bạn Dưới Tỉnh Yêu [Above Friendship, Below Lovers] - MIN - {Platonic love}

3. Đẹp Nhất Là Em [Prettiest is You] - Soobin Hoang Son, Jiyeon (There’s a Korean version and I think the lyrics are different) - {Girl is insecure and guy reassures her that she’s pretty and he loves her inside out}

4. Ngày Đẹp Trời Để Nói Chia Tay [A Pretty Day to Break Up] - Lou Hoang - {I think they fell out of love and he’s at her wedding and they’re both trying not to cry? I don’t really know 😭}

5. Từng quen [Used To Know] - Wren Evans - {Wondering if one regrets the past relationship? Translation in wonky lol}

Chill Songs:

vaicaunoicokhiennguoithaydoi [A Few Words Can Change People ] - GREYD, tlinh - {Think before you speak cause they can hurt a relationship :D}

2. Nen Yeu Hay Khong Nen [Should I Love You Or Not] - JSOL (on the verge of sad, but I think it’s chill) 💀- {Guy decides if he should confess cause he think if he does, it’ll ruin their friendship (guess what he chooses 🤡)}

3. Het Yêu Thật Sâu (Let Me Love You) [Did We Truly Fall Out Of Love (Let Me Love You)] - JSOL - {No one will ever love you like I do}

4. Từng Là [Used to Be] - Vu Cat Tuong - {Used to be lovers}

Side note: “Anh Trai Say Hi,” has a LOT of songs lol that got me into Vpop, and is the only survival show I’ll watch fully because all the contestants are pretty much established musicians, so when they get disqualified, you still get updated on their stats and get new music later (probably lol)! If you’re interested in some songs, here are two! 1. SAO HẠNG A [Class A Star] - {A celebrity falls in love and is absolutely enamored}

2. NGÁO NGƠ [Fool] - {Even though broke up, realizes still a fool for her and wants her back. Girl’s like nah, forget me}

[moinsbienquekaworu]

God I wish you could beam shit directly into people's brains

[memoryoflife]

top one song i want to wrangle into a fic focusing on everyones fav father son duo someday. number 1: i saw the dead by villagers

[autisticlee]

sometimes I think about how my cousin who was born a couple weeks after me and was basically raised with me was my only one and true best friend in life. he was like my twin brother. he was my favorite person. he was *my person* and my chosen family, despite being actual family. he was the only person ever in my life even til now to treat me correctly the way I want and need to be treated. my memories are fading from that time. I can barely remember specific or detailed moments of our time together. so I can't give specific examples of why I was so comfortable and happy being with him. but I still remember that feeling well. I remember how I felt playing with him and talking with him. it's a feeling I have been searching for my entire life since he moved away. but I have never found it again. never connected or binded with another person even close to this ever again.

i'm often asked what I want in a friend. what i'm looking for. because I only ever talk about bad parts of friendships and how they fail. but don't say what I WANT, only what I don't want. i...cant say. cant describe. I want what I had with my cousin. I want *that feeling* back. what was thar feeling? it's hard to describe a vague feeling or energy or vibe someone gives you. but I can try to the best of my bad memory....

he set the standard for how i want to be treated by others. he didn't treat me as different or less for being different from him. i'm autistic and dont think he is??? (maybe adhd tho. but memories are vague so who knows) he seemed more... "normal" than me (basically other people would have seen him as normal and me as a weord creature) felt like he always knew what to do and did everything right and Iearned from and copied him. he was the leader I gladly followed. he was extroverted and inspiring. I had more trust in him than anyone else in the whole world. I completely believed in him amd trusted him completely. he was more reliable than all the adults in our lives.

he treated me equally and well while the whole world kicked me when i was down. he never told me I can't do things, never pushed me away, never bullied me in any way. sure we had our disagreements and arguments, but the fact that I cant remember a single one when I remember ones from "friends" at school and other cousins during the same time means they were never serious and we made up easily and quickly.

he never said "ew girls can't do this" like every other boy I knew. I wasn't a girl to him. we were the same. completely equal. I could be and do everything he could. gender and all that stuff never mattered at all and baby nonbinary me who never felt like a girl from my earliest memories was so happy about it. its still the only time in my life i didnt have gender applied to me and it was the best. I didn't have to pretend to be a girl, prove I wasn't one, change how I looked or acted or anything to be taken seriously. he naturally saw me as equal, just like him, and treated me how I wanted. I didn't get stopped from things I liked for being afab. he let me play with his transformers and ninja turtles that I never got despite asking for them (I got barbies instead and hated them with a passion). he got me into pokemon while the boys at school ripped my pokemon stickers and keychains off my pencil case and bookbag, yelling "this isn't for girls!" he played video games with me when the boy cousins on the other side of the family pushed me out and locked the door yelling "video games are for boys only!" he played with me outside in the mud and exploring in the woods when the neighborhood boys yelled at me to go away because girls can't go on adventures or get dirty.

he never said "ew you're weird for this or that" like other kids did because i'm autistic. he accepted and adapted to me and made sure I was having fun and could keep up. he showed me new things he liked and learned about things I liked. he never made fun of me for not being able to do things like he did or for doing weird things like organizing his hot wheels every time i went to his house because he "didnt do it right" and i needed to fix it before we played something else. he was patient and caring and made sure I didn't fall behind and never left me behind. if I couldn't do something he couldn't, he encouraged me to try and helped if I wanted. or he would suggest something else.

there was never any pressure. no worry. no guessing. no pretending. he was so easy to just *be* with. I didn't have to try. he made it so easy. and he never showed any signs of thinking I was annoying or a burden or any trouble at all. he wanted to be around me and play with me just as much I did him. he was my twin and we were glued together. he was my other half. two peas in a pod. he filled in my missing gaps. he helped me be a whole person. he was my crutch to lean on. he matched me in every way. we fit together perfectly. he played video games, I loved to watch people play. he liked to do comedy skits, I loved to watch him do them. he was the funniest person I knew and made me laugh harder than anyone else. he loved to ride my scooter while I liked to ride his bike. everything worked out so smoothly and perfectly even when it didn't.

the feeling I got when I got to play with my favorite cousin, my favorite person, my best friend, made all the other struggles in my life melt away and seem easier to deal with.

then when we were, between 8-10 (can't remember exact age) his family moved away....that time being apart made us grow apart. we no longer grew our interests together. he changed while I stayed the same. I still remember the souk crushing feeling I got when I brought out our favorite pokemom toys first time he visited after a couple years, but he refused to play with them like we used to because he ~didn't do that anymore~ every visit he did or I did we were more different from each other and further apart. I was losing my best friend over again each time I saw him.....until the last time I saw him and he didn't even say a single word to me or really acknowledge I was even there. we became complete strangers. there was nothing connecting us anymore. the final thread had snapped and my memories of him started to fade since then. now they're disconnected feelings more than actual memories. sometimes I even wonder if that feeling is fading or is maybe not the same anymore....I'll never know.

my whole life since the day he moved away and I was unable to stay in contact with him has been me hoping and wishing and trying to find a person to replace him. I tried so hard. I never succeeded or even came close. I still hopelessly try. no one fits that space he left. no one is good enough. no one makes me feel that comfortable, accepted, free, happy. I fear i'll never get that back. no one in my family is like he was. none of the friends I ever had were like he was. no one ove met or talked to have been even close to what he was.

he has set the standards for every other person so high. i've desperately tried to take anyone. but they're never good enough. they never meet my standards my cousin created. I can't keep letting all these useless people in when they can't live up to him. but i'll never get what he was to me back again.

i'm always told "one day you'll find your people/the one/the right person/etc"

I think I found that person already. I already had "my person" and now he's gone because there's too much time and distance between us now.

I lost that person, way before I was ready. in fact I would never be ready. I need this kind of person for life. we needed to grow up together and stick together. but, we haven't spoken in at least 20 years now. I wouldn't know how anymore. he's a completely different person. while i'm still much the same probably. still searching for my old best friend, my twin, my soulmate in other things and people around me.....there's no way to make up for that lost time and end up where we left off. I can never get back what we had. I can never replace him. maybe it was just the childish innocence we had back then that made everything feel so..right. maybe it's all "rose colored glasses" and foggy memories. or maybe we were twin soulmates destined to be separated. who knows.

but I can't help but think how my life would be different now if he never moved away and we grew up together....

would it have turned out better? would I have suffered less? would he have stayed my best friend? would he have continued to give me the exact support and care I need in this world? would he have been the shoulder I could lean on that i've never had up to now? would we have stayed as twins? would I still have a best friend?

can never know. but i'm sure at least some of it would have stayed the same between us or have at least been better than whatever shit I have now. maybe we would have grown and changed together to still match. maybe he would still be my best friend I could go to at the end of the day for some laughs. maybe he would be able to help push me in the right direction. maybe I wouldn't feel so alone in this world filled with way too many people...maybe one day i'll find someone who can fill in the very unique and specific hole he left in my life and my soul that never healed...

but also, what if I don't... :( he, and my short time growing up with him truly were one of a kind, once in a lifetime experience

[burningcomputerpersona]

also how is it that spanish love songs has such good merch??? i don't think I've ever been to a show before where I had to struggle so hard to pick just one thing, like in a lot of cases there's only really one thing that appeals to me or I just get something bc i love the band and need to have them on me regardless of what the design looks like. but i was spending ages just staring at the merch stand trying to pick one out of alllll the things i wanted

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC "Pick Me Up"

The stream goes live on the first day of the school year. It's the usual song and dance - mad laughing, threats, poor jokes, terror, and about thirty kids huddled together in a classroom behind Joker's back. Tim recognizes it as one of the Gotham Academy classrooms. Dick can't imagine the horror those kids' parents must be feeling right now. Jason jokes about middle school traumatic experiences. Damian is feeling very justified for skipping classes today.

Bruce, all suited up in his Batman garb, is making his way to the Academy as fast as he possibly can. Those are kids.

Gotham is once again anxiously kept on the edge of their seats, watching as Joker decides to interview the kids on their learning experience so far. Something about leaving a good first impression on the new generation or some other bullshit. Most kids stutter over their words - it's true that Gothamites are way more composed when facing life-threatening events, but those kids are only fourteen or fifteen for the most part. They are not old enough to keep their cool in the face of a murder clown.

That is, until Joker points his camera at one of the girls. Black hair in a high ponytail, blue eyes without a trace of fear, a slightly displeased, even bored expression on her face. She looks straight into the camera, not even waiting for the laughing madman to finish his question, and deadpans:

"I don't think I like school. Pick me up, please."

Joker sputters.

"Not so scared, I see," he sneers, and, in the next moment, a comically large gun painted in purples and greens is pointed to the girl's forehead, "How about now?"

The girl scrunches her nose and makes a so-so gesture.

"It's kinda meh," she admits, "Like, yeah, points for style, but you know, size doesn't matter. It's all in the technique."

Dick snorts over the comms. It's a bad time for laughing, sure, but the phrase caught him off-guard. This is not what you'd expect to hear from a teen, and definitely not something you'd expect anyone to say to the Joker. Jason's comms are muted, but Barbara knows he also laughed a little.

"Technique, you say?" Joker hisses, pressing the gun closer to the girl's head, and she winces, leaning away from it, almost as if she is disgusted by the touch.

"Yeah, I mean, guns are not that scary anyway. What are you gonna do with them, blast my brains all over the floor? Been there, done that," the girl shrugs, "Kinda nasty, but overall, it's just like slime, only sticky." She pauses and looks to the side, seemingly lost in thought, "Huh, maybe we should have added Borax to it. Or was it baking soda?.."

"Listen here, you little brat," Joker's fingers catch the girl's chin, and his voice becomes sickeningly menacing. Bruce is almost there, just two more minutes. Tim is already grappling onto the wall.

But none of them get to finish.

"Put your dirty fingers away from my sister," a low, cold, and even in a way that speaks of barely contained fury, voice comes from out of the screen.

The camera spins, like whoever is holding it turned really fast, and everyone watching the stream sees a fairly normal guy standing by the window - a turtleneck and ripped jeans, same black hair as the girl, same blue eyes... Wait, they are not blue.

And that's not a guy.

The camera falls down to the floor, and there are a lot of panicked screams coming from the broadcast now, but none of them sound like children's voices. It's the screams of adults, of grown-ass men, and later, someone even claimed they heard Joker's scream among them, too. The picture on camera glitches a few times, and the angle is awkward, but everyone still gets to see how shadows in the room morph into eyes, wide open and green, and how the darkness grows sharp teeth, countless grinning mouths that don't belong to any faces.

Screams turn into gargling and then to quiet whispers, filling the ears of all those listening with countless words in languages they don't know.

Red Robin turns off the recording and looks to that same guy from the levestream, sitting across him on the couch. The guy - Daniel, or Danny, as he introduced himself - looks him in the eyes and raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, and?"

"How did you do it?" Tim asks for the third time this evening. Danny blinks.

"Did what?" He asks, completely incomprehending. Tim groans. He's been trying to get his answers, any answers at this point, from the guy for thirty fucking minutes already. So far, he's got nothing. Danny, whoever the fuck he is, proves to be the most annoying human being on Earth.

"Seven people in a coma, including Joker himself, with no physical injuries and none of the children remember a thing! How?!" He demands, and a girl's face peeks from around the corner:

"I remember!"

Tim snaps his head at her, "What do you remember?"

The girl pauses, blinks, and looks to Danny. Then shrugs, "My brother picked me up from school."

Tim drops his head down and breathes out in frustration. He can't force the information out of civilians, he is a vigilante, not a mafia.

"Would it make you feel better if I promise not to do it again?" Danny asks, and his voice is way too innocent for Tim to believe him. He raises his head to look the guy in his shameless, amused eyes.

"I hate you."

"Thanks," Danny grins.

[nomaishuttle]

umm i doubt literally anybody aside from me is at all interested in this but here is my frankensweeney playlist its got all the songs from the 5 casts that r on spotify (1979 broadway, 2006 broadway, movie, 2012 london, and 2023 broadway) organized to the best of my ability :]

[melminli]

Ddakji Man

summery - you were always struggling to make ends meet, despite having three separate jobs and you doubted that that would ever change. it felt like you were working out of your own casket and it would probably be more sustainable to invest in one at this point.

pairing: (gong yoo/ji-cheol) the salesman x fem. reader

word count: 1.5k

contains: slight arguing, cursing but nothing too graphic tbh

"Are you sure that you don't want to come?" One of your friends asked you a little sadly since you were about to leave the group. They rarely got to see you anyway, did you have to leave so early? "You never come with us when we go out for a drink, we miss you there, you know?"

You smiled a little tiredly as you strolled casually through the streets. "I'm sorry guys, I just have to work tonight." you tried to explain. Besides, I'm fucking tired and just want to get some sleep before then. I miss my bed.

Your best friend pouted as she hugged you from the side and you welcomed it, even if it made walking a little more difficult. "It's always work this work that. Live a little for once, all this stress is not good for you. You need a break." she spoke up before a thought came into her mind that made her a little furious. "Don't tell me that you're using work as an excuse to cancel on us. We can do something else if you want to. I'll even invite you, come on!"

You took a tired breath. I don't have any energy for this. "Trust me, I'd love nothing more than to get drunk with you and I'm not being sarcastic or anything." you clarified. Besides, I wouldn't work this much if I didn't have to.

"All right." she gave in unhappy. "We'll catch you one of these days, I can feel it..."

You laughed softly. "Please do," you replied and stopped in front of the stairs that led to the subway. This was the place where you had to part ways with the others and you did with a few more hugs. You enjoyed spending time with them and loved your friends with all your heart, but you were still happy to be a bit on your own now.

So you plugged in your cable headphones and played your current favorite song at the loudest volume before checking when the next train was going to arrive. Another twenty minutes? The last one must have just left. You decided to just sit down on a bench and wait while staring blankly around and quietly mumbling the lyrics to yourself.

A few minutes later, a person sat down next to you and you could see out of the corner of your eye that it was probably some kind of businessman or something. You didn't look closely out of politeness and turned your gaze somewhere else after checking the time on your phone.

"Excuse me." the unknown man tried to get your attention, but as expected, you could barely hear him over the booming music. He placed his briefcase in the space between you before leaning closer to your figure and looking towards you with a smile and finally, you seemed to notice his stare and turned in his direction. You took out one of your earbuds as you met his gaze. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

The man leaned back again. "I haven't said anything yet. I wanted to ask if I could talk to you, do you have a moment?"

You looked around a little uncomfortably as he maintained uninterrupted eye contact with you. "Ehm, well..." you stumbled slightly over your words. "I'm not religious or anything, sorry," you replied, having no patience for another discourse about Jesus and the church. This is the fourth time this week, lucky me. You thought to yourself as you were about to put your earplug back in.

The salesman held a hand in the air to stop you from doing that to keep your attention. You just looked at him uninterestedly and waited, it was going to be a while before your train arrived anyway. A smile graced his face after you were willing to listen to him again. "That's not what I wanted to talk about, I just want to offer you a chance."

Your face tightened a little in disgust and you were quite irritated by now. He seemed to be waiting for some kind of answer and didn't say anything else, so you had no choice but to interpret his words. He doesn't look like that kind of guy, but I guess it's always the ones who look the most decent. "Listen to me asshole," you said openly this time, all politeness gone as you pointed at his chest with your index finger. "I don't know you, maybe you're one of those men who try to talk in riddles to seem mysterious or something, but right now it just sounds like you're looking for someone cheap to fuck." you replied as you tapped his tie with each syllable and leaned a little closer to him as you whispered. "And I'm not cheap, so you might want to look elsewhere."

This time it was you who grinned as he looked at you in surprise and he let out a small grunt after you finished your sentence. The salesman straightened his tie while watching your figure before reaching for his briefcase and revealing its contents, "That's too bad, but also not what I was talking about," he replied as you looked at the money and colored paper in confusion. "Have you ever played Ddakji?" He asked you as he took out the red and blue paper. You just shook your head. "That's no problem at all, we can still play it if you're up for it." 

Your gaze alternated from his hand to his face. Oh, so he's crazy. You finally concluded. I guess he is too handsome to be just a normal guy, huh. You turned your head away from him, something about the whole thing just seemed perverse to you. "No thanks, I'll pass."

"You sure?" He asked again, knowing he'd convinced you as soon as he brought the money into it. These people are all the same, she'll snatch the paper right out of my hands after I start talking a language she understands. "Every time you win, you get 100,000 won from me." He began, watching the look on your face. "But if I win, you owe me 100,000 won and -"

You sighed and interrupted him. "Yes, I'm sure. I still don't want to play with you, okay?"

This time the man looked at you with a cold, icy stare. A few minutes passed like this and you just tried to ignore his gaze, but then he started talking again. "All right. 200,000 won." he finally said, but couldn't seem to get your attention back. He tried again. "Is it because you've never played the game before? We can have a practice round if that would make you feel more comfortable." he tried again and got irritated when you continued to ignore him. He looked around the area as he considered his next move. Is she waiting for me to increase the prize money further? These people usually jump up happily at the first amount since they're so desperate. He tried to collect himself again. "500,000 won." he finally said. "I've got the money right here, you just have to go for it."

When is this stupid train coming. "Look, I don't want your fucking money, understand? I'm not a gambling addict or -"

"You may not want it, but you need it," he said, annoyed. This has never happened before, is she stupid? He then spoke out your name and described your miserable living situation as if you didn't already know about it yourself. "You also have quite a lot of debt for someone who is still relatively young, are you seriously going to turn down the money I'm offering you? For what, to prove a point or something?"

You didn't know what this man's fucking problem was, he should be glad that you didn't want to take his money, and how did he even know all this? You got up from your seat next to him when the train finally arrived and turned to face him one last time. "Fuck you," you told him and then went to the doors. You even looked out of the window at him as soon as they closed before you, to show him your the middle finger.

The man in the suit watched your figure irritated until it was gone and then, took the little card out of the inside pocket of his suit, that was meant for you. He turned it over a few times in his hand before closing the open briefcase with his other one. He had already played and lost a few Ddakji games in his life, which was the point of the whole thing - to recruit players for the actual game. However, the thought of what awaited them there meant that he was still in control of the situation. He was always in control of the situation. "I didn't loose, we haven't even played." he tried to reassure himself.

And yet the whole conversation with you left him feeling like he was utterly defeated.