#like there's no one to blame except for myself there is just something in me thats inherently lacking and it's driving me crazy

[ant-diary]

I think I have maybe decided to tell someone I no longer want to be friends with them, but I'm wondering if I should give it a few more days before I commit to it

[bumblingbabooshka]

Worst Guy Ever - Also, Unfortunately, Very Homosexual Convo. (subtextually)

[poppyseed799]

My favorite pastime: roleplaying characters and just making them soso weird and then pulling up the DSM-5 to try to diagnose them

[trasharc]

sigh. What a horrendously torturous two weeks...

[gothcsz]

Hands To Myself | Javier Peña x F!Reader | ~4k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: You get to know the handsome stranger sitting next to you on your overnight flight to Mexico.

Tags: smut, reader is ovulating, hand job, fingering, dirty talk, lust at first sight again, sexual acts in public (on a plane), let's just pretend this is realistic okay, pwp, blowjob to completion, no use of y/n, reader is afab and able-bodied, reader is a woman of color yet everyone is encouraged to read, no physical descriptions, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: this is all @probablyreadinsmut's fault tbh. coming into my inbox with horny thoughts, knowing i have to do something about it 😩 hehe i hope you guys like this, it's nothing special... i just need this man in any way i can get him! let me know what you thinkkkkkk🖤

You knew you were fucked the second you saw him at the gate. He isn’t just attractive—he’s ridiculously attractive. The kind of hot that only exists in movies or in passing, like some guy you make eye contact with and never see again. Except this time, he wasn’t just passing through. He was standing right there.

To make matters worse, your hormones are out of control. Peak ovulation. Just being around a man has your skin buzzing, like your body is betraying you on a biological level.

So yeah, you looked. How could you not? He’s tall, has broad shoulders, leaner than what you usually go for but still built in a way that makes your brain short-circuit.

Then the universe really had to mess with you—you are assigned the seat right next to him for the overnight flight.

Your stomach drops. Suddenly, your go-to comfy travel outfit, leggings and a cardigan, feels way too basic.

“I’m at the window seat,” you say, trying to sound normal.

He looks up, meeting your gaze, and smiles—actually smiles. His brown eyes are warm and a little intrigued as he gives you a once over.

“Okay.”

Just that one word and you are already overthinking. How good his voice would sound in your ear as he’s—

No, you won’t make things harder on yourself by having intrusive sexual thoughts about some stranger. No matter how good looking he is.

You shove your carry-on into the overhead bin and awkwardly step aside so he can stand and let you in. His body brushes against yours, and you get a whiff of his cologne, something woodsy, mixed with the unmistakable scent of whiskey from the airport bar.

Okay… so maybe you’d been watching him for longer than just at the gate. But who could blame you? The man is truly a sight to behold. It’s not like you were being a creep about it.

You mutter a soft “thanks” and sink into your seat, trying very hard to act normal while the flight attendants go through their safety spiel, though it’s hard to focus when you can feel his presence right next to you.

You need a distraction—fast. So, in a last-ditch effort to stop acting like a feral idiot, you pluck your book from your backpack and try to read.

It works, kind of. Not really.

“So, what’s waiting for you in Playa del Carmen?”

His voice, low and raspy, cuts through your attempt at reading—not that you’d absorbed a single word, still stuck on the same page since you opened it.

You glance over, and of course, he’s already looking at you. His leather jacket is gone, leaving him in a short sleeved button-down, a few undone buttons teasing the tanned skin of his neck, his thick biceps straining against the fabric.

You take too long to answer because he tilts his head slightly, lips twitching like he’s holding back a smirk. “Sorry—abrupt fuckin’ question.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” You stumble over your words, mentally cringing at yourself. His brows raise slightly, amused, and you don’t miss the way his mustache tics when he presses his lips together. 

“A friend’s birthday trip. I got caught up at work, so I had to take a later flight at the last minute. What about you?”

He hums, the sound deep and thoughtful. “Work.” That’s all he offers. “Not as fun as what you’ll be getting up to, I’m sure.”

You bite your lip, fingers fidgeting with the edge of your book. “I’ve heard the beaches are beautiful. I’m excited to just lounge and take in the sun. It’s been so long since I’ve gone on a proper vacation.”

Your tongue is loose despite the way you’re vibrating under the weight of his attention.

“I know that feeling. Don’t even think my body knows what a vacation is…” He trails off, leaning back in his seat, thighs spreading in that way men do, which you usually find annoying but something about the way he does it has your pussy clenching, and you try no to let your eyes drop down to his crotch.

“How’s the book?”

You blink slowly, returning your attention to the paperback in your hand. “Got a slow start but so far it’s been alright.”

“I bet. You’ve been stuck on the same page since we took off. Must be the most riveting paragraph ever written.”

Heat creeps up your neck, and if it were anybody else, you’d be weirded out by their observation. Being hot does have its privileges. “Maybe I just like rereading. Really taking in the point the author is trying to make.”

“Uh-huh, right…” He chuckles softly and that sound triggers the desire that seeps into every pore of your skin.

The conversation continues flowing thereafter, which you definitely did not expect. His name is Javier, and he’s constantly traveling for work—though he’s vague on the details, and you’re not about to grill a stranger for his life story.

Instead, the topics meander, easy and flirtatious, both of you toeing the line between casual and something else.

You swear he’s flirting. He leans in slightly when you speak, holds your eyes captive just a beat too long, like he’s in no rush to look away.

You’re noticing everything the deeper you get into this… thing. The way lips form around each word, full and obnoxiously kissable. The way his brown eyes glint when he talks about things that should be trivial but feel interesting because he’s the one saying them. How the tendons in his forearms flex whenever he gestures, his fingers long and strong, the kind of hands that could make a woman very happy.

Your horny brain is spiraling.

“A mango marg is my go to. Preferably one of those ridiculously oversized ones with sugar on the rim.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, that tracks.”

You arch a brow. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

He scratches his jaw, flicking his tongue over his teeth. You admire how chiseled his jaw is. “Means you like to have fun. You probably get away with a lot.”

“And you think I get away with things?”

His eyes flick down to your lips, just for a second. “I think you could, if you wanted to.”

You cross your legs, shifting in your seat like that’s going to help anything. It just makes it worse. Focus. He’s just a hot stranger. A hot stranger that smells like whiskey and cedarwood and keeps throwing you these amused little glances like he knows what the fuck he’s doing to you.

You should probably end this before you embarrass yourself. But instead, you just keep talking, keep flirting, and keep waiting to see just how far this can go.

“Do I have something on my face?”

Javier’s voice snaps you back to reality, and you blink, heat settling on your cheeks as your brain scrambles to catch up.

“Sorry, what?”

His lips curve slightly like he’s fighting a grin, but his eyes give him away. “You keep staring at my mouth…” He trails off, but there’s something in the way he says it. As if he’s caught you red-handed and is enjoying watching you squirm.

Your stomach clenches. Your thighs press together on instinct.

Fuck.

Panic surges through you, and suddenly, the cabin feels way too small, the air too thick. “No, uh—there’s nothing there. I just… I zone out sometimes.” You clear your throat, fingers fumbling with your seatbelt. “Would you mind letting me get to the restroom?”

You sound as pathetic as you feel, but Javier doesn’t let up. His smirk stays put, eyes flicking over your face like he’s contemplating something.

Still, he nods. “Sure.”

He stands, stepping aside, and as you squeeze past him, his hand just barely grazes your lower back. Light enough to be innocent, intentional enough to send a full-body shiver down your spine.

You swallow hard, pretending not to notice—pretending not to feel the slick heat between your legs pulse at the contact—and walk as casually as possible down the aisle.

The moment you lock the restroom door behind you, you press your palms against the tiny counter, breathing hard.

Your reflection stares back at you, pupils blown, lips parted like you just stumbled out of a damn makeout session. 

You’re hot. Turned on from nothing but a little eye contact and some shameless flirting. And the worst part? It’s not going away anytime soon. Especially since you’re sitting so fucking close to him. Your body is wound tight, aching at the worst possible time.

Your panties are soaked, borderline ruined, pussy crying to get some relief, and you actually consider slipping a hand down there and rubbing one out. But you know yourself. Getting off with your fingers is a slow, frustrating process, and the last thing you need is to be locked in an airplane restroom, chasing an orgasm while Javier is sitting just outside, existing like that.

So you suck it up. Splash some cool water on your face. Take a deep breath. Get it together.

When you step back into the aisle, he’s already standing, leaning casually against the row of seats as if his demeanor and charm aren’t totally putting you under his spell. He looks even better now than he did before you left.

You give him a tight-lipped, awkward smile as you slide back into your seat. He follows, sinking into his own with a quiet grunt, the sound low and rough enough to send another spark of pleasure straight to your cunt.

“Everything good?” He asks smoothly, but there’s an undercurrent of playfulness to it, like he already knows the answer.

You force your legs to stay still, clenching your thighs subtly as you nod.

“Mhm.”

He hums. “You don’t have to lie, you know.”

Your eyes snap up to his, heartbeat hammering. “What?”

“I know when a woman’s turned on. And you haven’t exactly been subtle about it.”

Your stomach drops, your whole body flooding with embarrassment. “That’s ridiculous—”

“Nothin’ to be embarrassed about.” He shrugs. “Been thinkin’ about how good your ass looks in those leggings since I saw you back at the airport.”

Oh, you’re so fucked.

Your breath stutters, fingers gripping the armrest as if that’ll do anything to ground you. Maybe this is a dream, it has to be. No way he’s reciprocating the horny vibes you’ve been exuding because of your damn ovulation cycle. 

“Javier…” His name falls from your lips, shaky, uncertain.

His expression doesn’t change—still cool, still lazy, but there’s a darkness to it now. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything…” His knuckles graze your thigh, featherlight, making you shiver before he pulls away. “But I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like I’m not attracted to you.”

You lick your lips, watching the way he follows the movement, how his hand balls into a fist against his leg. The cabin is dim now, most passengers lost in their own worlds or asleep, and the seats around you are conveniently unoccupied. The flight attendants have finished their last walkthrough, leaving you tucked away in a private little pocket of space.

Your pulse thrums, a decision forming in the haze of arousal clouding your mind. “What if…” You hesitate, but then let the thought take control, logic be damned. “What if I wanted to do something?”

Javier’s brows lift slightly, intrigue flashing across his face. The shift is instant—his relaxed posture stiffens, his jaw ticks, and his eyes dip just slightly as if assessing exactly how far you’re willing to go.

You’re barely breathing as he lifts the armrest between you, his body pressing in tight, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. You almost pass out.

“Yeah?” His voice is nothing but a whisper, matching the lust that’s thrumming in your veins. “Like what?”

The warmth of his breath has you letting out a soft, involuntary whimper.

“Anything,” you murmur, fidgeting with your fingers, the need unbearable. “I just need you to touch me.”

Javi exhales a low, quiet laugh through his nose, and you can feel his smirk against your skin. His lips ghost along the side of your jaw, teasing, taunting.

“I can do that.” His fingers then trail up your thigh agonizingly slow, stopping just at the hem of your leggings. “Just need you to keep quiet.”

You nod weakly, head tipping back against the seat as his mouth finds your neck. He starts slow, pressing soft kisses along the sensitive skin before sucking lightly, dragging his teeth over your pulse. You resist the urge to squirm as his large palm moves up your body, fingertips teasing along the curve of your breast over your top.

Your nipples tighten instantly, and when he pinches one between his fingers, both of you let out a quiet groan.

“So sensitive. You need more?”

You bite your lip, nodding desperately again. “Yes.”

His hand slips beneath your shirt and finally—rough fingertips meet your bare skin. He palms your breast, kneading, tugging at your nipple, sending sharp little sparks of pleasure straight to your pussy.

You shift, desperately trying to find any friction. Your horniness is maddening and he knows it.

“Poor thing,” he murmurs against your jaw, tongue flicking out to taste your skin. “So worked up already. Bet you’re soaked.”

His words send a fresh wave of heat through you, and you whimper, hips rolling ever so slightly.

Javier groans at the movement, shifting even closer, his thigh pressing against yours as he works your tits over with a practiced hand.

His lips move up to your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. You turn your head, eyes locking with his for a brief moment before you both give in—lips crashing together, mouths desperate and hungry.

He can kiss.

His tongue slides against yours, tasting and exploring. The fingers at your breast keep working, rolling your nipple between his fingers, twisting just enough to make you gasp against his lips.

“Javi…” His name is exhaled breathlessly. “More. Please.”

He tilts his head slightly. “Yeah?” Leaving your tits, he moves down between your legs and you spread your thighs, giving him enough room to begin rubbing you over your leggings.

You let out a sharp gasp, back arching slightly. The pressure has you melting, chasing the touch you so desperately need.

Javier watches you, drinking in the slight furrow of your brow, how your lips purse. “Goddamn.” He can’t help but nip at your lower lip, gripping your thigh with his other hand as he grinds a little harder against your pussy. “You soaked right through these.”

Your fingers dig into his forearm, the teasing unbearable.

“You’re so—” You shudder, exhaling shakily and he’s living for it. “You’re so fucking hot, I couldn’t help it.”

“I could probably make you come just like this, huh? Needy little thing needs her pussy played with so bad, she’s whoring herself out on a fuckin’ plane just to get an orgasm.”

Your jaw hangs open at his filthy words.

Javier is clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. His fingers keep moving, slow and firm, while your hand drifts down, pressing against the hardness straining beneath his jeans. Even through the thick denim, he’s big, and when you squeeze just slightly, his hips jerk into your palm.

He groans into the kiss you’re sharing, enjoying your touch. “This is risky, you sure?”

You nod, struggling to think through the fog of lust clouding your mind. “I don’t care.”

That’s all it takes.

He pulls back, just enough for both of you to move quickly. You shrug off your cardigan, tucking it beneath you before slipping your leggings and panties down to your mid thigh. You’re not about to put your bare ass on this plane seat.

He unbuckles his belt, freeing himself from his jeans, and holy shit.

Your mouth goes dry. He’s thick, a swollen, flushed cock with a prominent vein running down the side, curving just enough to make your walls flutter at the thought of him fucking your cunt.

Javi catches your lingering gaze and smirks. “You just gonna look, or—?”

You drag your tongue across your palm before wrapping it around his leaking cock, your touch making him shudder. Slowly, you stroke him, spreading the precum with your thumb, gliding it over the sensitive head before giving a firm squeeze, earning a growl from deep in his chest.

His fingers slip between your thighs, spreading your pussy lips open, and he wastes no time in teasing your sensitive labia, dragging his touch up and down attentively.

You moan quietly as to not get yourself caught. He groans at the feeling of you, slick and hot, his digits smearing your arousal all over your pretty pussy before pressing against your swollen clit.

“If we weren’t on this goddamn plane I’d fuck the shit out of you.”

You can’t hold back your soft whine, your head tilting back, wrist still moving, his own fingers working magic between your thighs.

“How? Please Javi tell me how you’d fuck me.”

He buries his head into your neck, licking, biting, sucking at your skin, his thick fingers now breaching the mouth of your cunt.

It’s pure bliss—the stretch so much deeper, fuller than your own fingers ever manage. His thick digits work you open, pressing against every sensitive spot inside you. The way he drags against your inner walls has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, but it’s the relentless pressure on your fleshy pearl that wrecks you, erasing every thought but him.

“I’d have you spread out, my head buried between your legs, fucking you with my tongue until you’re wet enough to take this big cock.” His hips grind into your jerking palm to emphasize his point.

You can only imagine how his wet tongue would feel up against your flesh, tasting every crevice, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you.

“Probably start over you, wanna see that pretty face while I slide inside this tight pussy baby, fuck,” he groans, fingers now knuckles deep inside your cunt and you moan, slipping into this fantasy with him, imagining how good it’d feel to have his dick stretching you out.

“Not really a missionary girl but I know you’d make me feel good, Javi.”

His thumb is slick with your sticky wetness, allowing him to swirl your clit around, massaging it and making your pussy drool even more. Your nipples are hardened and oversensitive, adding to the bliss when they brush against the fabric of your shirt with every deep inhale and exhale you take. 

Javi’s fingers begin to thrust into you more earnestly, the soft squelch of your pussy getting finger fucked thankfully drowned out by the hum of the plane. “How would you want it then? Tell me how you’d take it.”

Another bead of precum dollops from his slit and your mouth waters, picking up the pace to match the stroking of his fingers inside you.

“On top. I’d bounce on your cock until you’re filling me up. Put my tits in your face, make you suck on them.”

A thin sheen of sweat clings to your temples, the heat of his kisses still lingering on your neck making your temperature spike like a fever you don’t want to break.

Javier gets desperate, leaning in to put his lips on yours, imagining the way your pussy would feel while you rode him. You clench around his fingers, your orgasm on the brink of making a mess all over his hand.

“You’d let me come inside you?” His voice is a husky murmur, almost taunting, laden with lust as he cups your jaw with his other hand before sliding lower, wrapping firmly around your throat. Not squeezing, just holding, keeping you in place as he curls his fingers, brazen eyes boring into yours.

Your breath stutters as ecstacy coils impossibly tight. “Mhm,” you nod weakly, tears welling in your eyes from how good it all feels.

A wicked smirk spreads across his lips, his grip keeping you steady as he drags you closer. “Naughty girl,” he murmurs. “Fuckin’ love that.”

His lips crash against yours again, swallowing your cries as his fingers work you harder, scissoring inside you, his fat thumb flicking your clit rapidly. 

It sends you tumbling over the edge, your entire body clenches, muscles locking as waves of pleasure ripple through you, your release coating his fingers while you moan into his mouth, trying to keep quiet, trying not to let the whole damn plane know what he’s doing to you.

Your grip on his cock tightens but you lose your rhythm as he lets you ride out your orgasm, whispering praises against your lips, not seeming bothered by the lack of attention at his shaft.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you attempt to catch your breath, blinking away the stars clouding your vision while he pulls his fingers out, a sticky web following.

Javier lifts his fingers between you, still slick with your release, dark eyes flicking to yours as he takes in the scent of your pussy before he’s licking at them, using the hold he still has on your neck to bring you in so you’re both making out with his wet fingers between the two of you, your tongue moving sinfully, getting lost in the act.

You break away when his fingers are licked clean, attempting to catch your breath. After regaining some control, you continue to work his cock, urging him to slide into the unoccupied third seat by the aisle so you have room to take him in your mouth.

Javi blinks, caught off guard, dick twitching in your grasp as he registers what you’re suggesting.

“You sure?” His hands flex like he’s barely holding himself back.

“Yes. Don’t want to make a mess, right? Just make sure no one’s looking.” You purr, pulling your legging and underwear back up before shifting your body and bending over to lick at his tip, circling around his head before you’re taking as much as you can into your mouth.

The positioning is a little cramped and awkward, but you don’t care. He tastes so good, feels even better on your tongue. The blood is roaring in your ears, you can’t even hear any of the quieted noises you’re pulling from him but you do feel his hand landing on the back of your neck and he pushes you further down, forcing you to take almost the entirety of his cock down your throat.

You fondle his balls, sucking in your cheeks and bobbing up and down quickly. His stomach tightens and before you know it, ropes of warm and salty cum are filling your mouth, his fingers digging into your skin. You moan around him, slurping him up before pulling away with a soft pop, wiping at the corners of your mouth where the fluids had smeared.

He looks just as wrecked as you had when you came, his cheeks a little pink, eyes dilated, breathing heavily. He exhales a quiet, breathy laugh, running a hand through his hair before tucking himself back into his pants, watching you with something dangerously close to admiration.

You lean in, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to his lips, returning the favor and letting him taste the last traces of himself.

“Where are you staying? This can’t be the last time I see you.”

You tell him the name of the resort, watching as that familiar cocky smirk creeps back onto his face.

“Okay,” he murmurs, mind already made up. “Can’t let you walk away after that. Pussy’s too good. Hope your friends don’t mind me stealing you for a night or two.”

He caresses your cheek and you melt into him, resting your chin on his shoulder, staring up at him with starry eyes. You already know you’re going to get the lecturing of your life once you disclose what just transpired to your homegirls.

“They will. Maybe I should extend my stay just a little longer…” Your fingers fidget with the buttons on his shirt.

“I’ll pay for it. Anything to see you again.”

Oh god, is this irresponsible of you? Probably. But you’re not thinking with your brain right now, no, you’re straight up thinking with your pussy.

“Deal.”

@almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiamore . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @persephone-girl . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7. @mandaloriankait . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @almostfoxglove . @thundermartini . @pigeonmama . @piercethevic03 . @marisemonteiroo . @picketniffler . @getitoutofmymindwrites . @clubsoft . @bunniboo0015 . @kirsteng42 . @ivuravix . @joelmillerisapunk . @theestorm . @pasc4lfuzz . @manuymesut . @biapascal . @angiewatson .

[unluckilyimnot]

Could you please do a the bofurin boys (especially sugishita) with a reader who's nonverbal with everyone except them?

no verbal s/o except with them - suo, sakura, kaji, sugishita, kiryuu, umemiya

asked by @lost-in-thought-bookworm

Note: hiiii it’s been such a long time I haven't written with them, I’m happy ! i hope it's not bad tho, I'm rarely going non-verbal myself so I hope it's ok

Suo

he teased you at first, saying you were very shy to not even say a word

but when he realized it’s with literally with everyone and that people still interacted fine with you, he got protective around you

if anyone mess with you, they mess with him as well

He knows it immediately when there's something wrong with you, because you're rarely silent around him. He's never obvious about it, gently guiding you where there's less people and keeping you close. You can feel his fingers slowly brushing on the back of your hand. 

“What is it ?” his voice is sweet but commanding, letting you know that you're not moving before he hears about it. Taking your phone out, you're stopped in your motion by his hand and he's shaking his head. 

“I want you to tell me,” he asked furthermore, his face closer to yours now, his nose only a few centimeters away from yours. 

“I'm tired,” you whispered, after a moment and collecting your strength. “I wanna go home.” 

You're rewarded with a soft smile, not the kind of silly smile he gives to most people and kiss your nose. “Then we're leaving.” 

Kiryuu

he’s so happy when you first start talking with him, it’s an understatement, and he doesn’t hide it

you’re his favorite person to talk with and fixate on your voice 

shopping got ten times easier and he’s here for it

“Look ! This one would look so nice on Sakura, don't you think?” Nirei pointed out a shirt while looking at you with big eyes, waiting for you to nod vividly because you usually agree with him. Not this time though. You were out in a store with him and Sakura, waiting for Suo and Kiryuu to come back after they spent some time at the tea’s store. Pointing a particular color on the shirt, you then point at Sakura and make a cross with your arms, signaling them that this color was a no-no for him. 

It was hard to make them understand sometimes, and based on the face Sakura made you were sure he was lost. Before you could take out your phone, the boys came back and Kiryuu passed an arm around your shoulders lazily. “What is it ?” 

Nirei asked them what they thought and, just like you thought, Kiryuu agreed with you. “This color is awful for him, no offense,” said Kiryuu, hoping that Sakura wouldn’t take it harshly. 

“Right ?!” you shouted, smiling his way. 

“It's so much easier when you’re there, Kiryuu,” whined Nirei, not that he hates to go out with you without him. You still type angrily on our phone, ‘you didn’t leave me anytime !’ it showed with your frown, making them laugh. 

Sakura

he’s taken aback because why wouldn’t you talk ?

But he’s sure you didn’t have it easy to be like that so he’s very gentle and patient with you

he talks for you anytime you need

You always get a weird look when the waiter turns to you for your order but Sakura places it for you, that’s something you don’t really get used to. You can’t blame them, they just saw you talking with him but never talk to them or anyone else around the table – if it isn’t just the two of you. Sakura never seems to mind though, well he’s used to being looked at weirdly too. 

“You alright ?” You blink a few times at the question before nodding energetically, but he’s sending you a suspicious look already. “Don’t worry about that, it’ll never change anyway,” he shrugged before going on about last night's event at his school. He goes on for a few minutes, waiting for your answers with a close eye. He's rarely disappointed but when you suddenly look down like that, he's extra careful, just in case you need anything. 

Kaji

he doesn’t hear anyway so it didn’t really matter at first

your friendship was easy thanks to that

but he loves that you talk to him now, it means you trust him enough

Your eyes always light up when you see him coming, it’s like you’re waiting for him all day just to catch a glimpse of him – and he still doesn't know how he feels about it. He takes his headset off, and he knows he’s gonna hear about your day until he walks you home. Giving you a lollipop as well, you tuck your arm with him as you two walk out of the school to nowhere in particular. One hand holding your phone while the other holds the lollipop, just so you can still talk with everyone. 

It always gets him how annoying it might be to talk with him but type for his friends when they ask anything, you could just act like you were talking with him ; but that wouldn’t be welcome from him who spends half of his time with music blasting in his ears. He knows it’s not that easy, but he’s still happy that you answer them and not make any discussion only about you two when they’re around. Plus, it's a little too obvious how happy they are to have you around, hearing you talk even if it’s never to them. He wants all his favorite people to get along.

Sugishita

no need to say that you’re more than compassionate and understand his situation

it took time for you to open up and talk to him, even if he doesn’t always answer

it’s so comfortable for him

He’s not much about talking either, so he never minded at first when it wasn’t really a thing. Then, even when you started talking only with him, it didn’t seem so out of place. He understands it the best, he gets what’s going on in your mind. Hearing your voice isn’t really special anymore, it’s part of his routine and he likes it better that way – why wouldn’t he love hearing your voice when he loves you so much ? 

Mostly, he loves how you can formulate your thoughts despite not doing it much. Deep conversations with you are the best, he likes how well you can formulate your thoughts despite not doing it much or with everyone. It’s hard for him, but he’ll gladly listen to you talk all you want, since it’s specific to him. It’s comfortable, even if you’re not really related to Umemiya – it helps him trust others.

Umemiya

never ever mentioned it, it never mattered to him

he wants you to take your time and talk when you feel safe or feel like it’s the time

even if it never comes

He can't get it out of his head, you actually telling him goodnight yesterday. You stayed a while longer on the rooftop with him, talking about life and anything that comes to his mind until late. You didn't simply waved at him, you told him goodbye. It was the first time he heard your voice and, if he wasn't sure how precious you already were for him, now he's sure.

He doesn't get carried away anyway, maybe it was a one time thing – which was fine. Deep down, he can't wait to see you, just to see if you’ll talk to him or not. His heart flutters when he sees you making your way to him with Toma on the rooftop. You're typing on your phone, showing him quickly before you smile with a nod at his answer. You turn his way once closer and wave at him. 

“Hi, Ume,” you say softly. A small gasp can be heard but nobody mentions it otherwise. He swears his heart was beating a second ago. He smiles at you, holding back from crushing you in his arms. 

After that, it became normal to hear you talk around Umemiya. You never answer without your phone to others, even next to him, but your soft whispers can always be heard – to everyone's pleasure. And for Umemiya, it's a victory. It got him holding his breath every time, full of joy to see you this comfortable with him. 

Let me know if you liked it !

[starmocha]

Hi hello so im back again with a smaaaaaaallllll rant about Colonel Caleb and general's daughter. I just got the ideea and i had, once again, nowhere to rant about it.

Ahham. So....them having their own 'myth' lets say. They were lovers in their past lives(historical maybe the 1800 or the 1900)but couldn't be toghter since she was of lower status then Caleb, him being a Colonel in the army (i love Colonel Caleb so bear with me) and her being a commoner or someting and she dies in his arms and he swears to protect her in their next lives and faith makes sure to have them be of the same 'rank'??? so he could fullfill his promise FUCK MY MIND IS IN RUINS 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I hope i made myself clear if not blame my mind, thank you! Good night! 😭😂❤️❤️

MINA I AM DELIGHTED TO SEE YOU AND YOUR LOVELY AU AGAIN. <333 gosh I wanted to answer this immediately last night, but Caleb’s latest trailer had me losing my mind and things spiraled 😭😭😭

Giving you all of my attention, because EXCUSE ME. WHEELS ARE SPINNING.

Can we…can we just indulge on this a little more? 🥹 omg excuse the slightly heavy Moulin Rouge! influences sprinkled in here, but this is the vibe I am getting, especially for their “tragic” ending.

A Colonel and His Lover

Imagine Colonel Caleb is dragged to a brothel by his associates and superiors. He finds the whole thing disdainful, but is pressured by his own superiors to indulge in a little nightly fun and let loose and forget their duties for a bit.

He doesn’t plan to. He had planned on leaving the moment everyone finds their partners.

Until he sees you.

Literally lust love at first sight.

He’s captivated by your beauty, your wits, and he’s falling hard and fast before he realizes what is happening.

One night with you leaves him yearning for more. He has already remembered how you felt under him, the way you quivered and moaned for him.

He remembers the sweet nothings uttered between the two of you, and though a tiny part in his mind is telling him that you are just a whore who is good with her tongue, he wants to believe that there is something genuine blossoming between the two of you.

He starts going back to the whorehouse more often. Nightly, if he could. He still puts on an act that he was being pressured to tag along, but in reality, all he wants is to see you again. No matter what it takes, what the price, he wants you and only you.

In the beginning, he was just another client. One of those military brutes who only saw you as something that can be bought for and used until they were satisfied.

You did intentionally charm him in the beginning. A false smile, a few sweet words to prickle his male ego, but it soon becomes apparent to you that Caleb is not like all of your previous clients. When he sees you, there is genuine feelings in his eyes, he is truly looking at you for you and not just a body to be used.

You try to discourage your own feelings, reminding yourself of the different classes you belong to. This can never happen—could never happen.

A prestigious colonel on his way to greatness and a common whore? What a joke. It seems almost insulting to entertain such an idea that you could ever truly be his. You quiet those feelings, try to imagine him as any of those other bastards who drag you to bed.

Except you can’t.

Caleb won’t let you. He sees you for you. He wants to know you, the real you, who you have hidden away for years.

You no longer wait for him to come to you as a client. You begin to sneak around whenever you both could, having regular rendezvouses where he is no longer a client or you’re a whore, but two lovers meeting to be together.

After one afternoon delight, you lay with him in an inn bed, tangled in sheets and wrapped in his warmth, and he paints you a beautiful picture of the life you both could have together.

He would buy you all of the beautiful dresses for you to wear, show you off with pride, his equal at his side wherever he goes. Men may still lust after you, their wives green with envy, but to Caleb, he couldn’t care, because he knows you are his and his alone.

You would live in a beautiful house, your days filled with idle contentment and no longer have to worry about anything or want for anything. Caleb promises to provide you with everything you could want and more.

When you tell him, though, that he is all that you want, his cheeks tinge pink, but his smile is layered with joy and also…gratitude? He looks at you like you are his whole world, because that’s just how it is: you are his world now. He had never thought he could cherish someone as much as he cherishes you.

A beautiful life awaits you. He asks you to marry him.

For just a moment, you hesitate, and he is confused. He gently questions you, wondering if you have any doubts about his feelings.

“No! Never!” you tell him, and then reluctantly, you reveal that you could still feel that distance in classes between the two of you. You worry about his reputation, and Caleb seems surprised.

He reassures you there is nothing for you to worry about. He can handle whatever happens, and he promises to keep you safe.

You agree to marry him.

Life continues as normal as the two of you plan to run away and elope. He had promised you an extravagant wedding, but you want him now, already wanting to be his wife and he your husband.

This rosy life you are seeing turns grey in an instant, everything grinding to a halt when you start to display symptoms of an unknown illness. You start coughing up blood more often, your body weakened some days to the point you need to be bedridden. Secretly, you hid everything from Caleb, not wanting him to worry.

Caleb starts wising up, realizing something is wrong when you continue to evade his questions or even outrightly avoid meeting him again.

When a physician reveals to you that you only have less than five months to live, you realize that the dream life Caleb promised you would never come true. Not wanting him to bear the pain of seeing you dying, you start to drive a further wedge between the two of you, consciously doing things to make him hate you so he wouldn’t ever have to feel the pain of losing you.

It works.

You fight with him to the point that you’re both yelling and screaming at one another until he loses control of his anger and drives his fist into a wall, scaring you briefly, having never seen this side of him before. He doesn’t want you to see him like this either, so he leaves, leaving you with these bitter harsh words and some bills tossed at you in spite:

“I have paid for my whore. My debt is paid and she is nothing to me.”

When he is out of sight, you fall to the ground sobbing, angry at yourself for doing a good job of driving him away and making him hate your existence. The man you loved is gone, and though it hurts, you still wish he would find someone to replace you, because you still love him with your whole heart and never want him to be alone like this.

Caleb is angry and it shows. The Colonel has always been very disciplined and strict, but everyone has noticed his temper seemed even more short. There is no leniency with him. You mess up, he will make sure you learn from your mistakes. You talk back to him, and it will be your last words in his presence.

He starts to drink more often, wishing to numb his pain, to forget your fights, to forget you. There is no alcohol in the world strong enough to cure him of this heartache. In spite of everything, he still loves you. He replays the memories often, wondering when everything had gone wrong.

One night as he sits at the bar, on his fifth glass of scotch, he pulls out a ring box, opening it to look at the dainty little ring he had secretly chosen for you. It wasn’t a huge diamond, but still perfectly sized, and he knows it would look beautiful on your finger.

He downs his glass, pays his tab, and stumbles out of the bar. He staggers through the streets disoriented, not even thinking clearly of where he is going.

He finds himself at the brothel again, and he scoffs. He goes in, demanding to see you.

The madame there tries to turn him away. She knows who he is, and also knows of his secret relationship with one her girls. She knows what you two had planned, because you had revealed everything to her and begged her to never let him come near you again—for his sake. Always for his sake. Even as you are dying upstairs, each day, you breathing growing weaker, you still think of him.

Caleb doesn’t take “no” for an answer and in his current drunken state, he is more prone to violence than usual, slurring insults about you in spite. It isn’t until one of the other girls screams out that you were dying, that he freezes, sobering up instantly.

“What…did you say?”

His whole world had stopped. The colors drain from his face, his heart slowing as he replays her words in his mind. The dots start to connect as he remembers all of your final fights, realizing your expressions had always seemed off somehow.

His throat is dry, his limbs rigid as he tries to move. Suddenly, he runs off in a mad dash before anyone could stop him. He rushes up the stairs, passing several rooms, pushing anyone in his way to the side until he finds your room, the door bursting open and he freezes again, not recognizing the frail woman laying in bed under multiple covers as a nurse is tending to her.

Caleb doesn’t leave and rushes to your side, dropping to his knees as he reaches for your hand, begging you to look at him. He apologizes profusely, his eyes glistening with tears.

“Why didn’t you tell me?! Why did you lie to me?! Why, why…why…”

His large hands wrapped around yours, holding it close to his face as he sobs.

“Ca..leb…”

He looks up, seeing you smiling at him weakly.

“I’m here,” he assures you, “I’m here…I’m not leaving…Not again…”

Too weak to fight, too relieved to see him, you let him stay and you close your eyes.

He stays by your side for your remaining days, cherishing the little time you had left.

One afternoon as he watches you sleep, he sits on the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing aside your hair, his eyes heavy with sadness as he realizes how frail and pale you are now compared to who you were months earlier. Quietly, he pulls out the ring box, taking the ring out, and slipping it on your ring finger. It looks perfect on you, just like he had known it would.

When you wake that evening and see the ring, you start to protest, saying it’s wasted on you.

He silences you with a kiss, and once again, he reassures you that nothing he does for you is ever wasted effort. You are his only bride, and no one will ever take your place.

Time dwindles, and he watches you waste away each day, his heart heavy with remorse and anger that he is losing you before his very eyes and there is nothing that he can do to stop this. For all of his strength and glory, Caleb has never felt as weak and helpless as he does now.

He tries to fill your days with as much comfort and happiness as he could.

It was a spring afternoon when he lays in bed with you. He leans back against the headboard, your body resting against his, the cover up to your neck for warmth, but nothing felt more comforting than his own body heat against you.

He tells you stories again and as you listen to him, you wonder why his voice sounds more distant even though he is right here next to you.

Caleb watches, realizing, he has lost you, your body growing colder and unresponsive.

He breaks down crying as a warm spring breeze rustles into the room from the opened balcony door. He holds you close to him and just sobs and curses every deity in the world.

He promises in the next life, he will be a better man and give you what you deserve. In the next life, things will go right. The story of you and him will be rewritten, he swears on his life.

[svt-luna]

ʚིᵋ ⋆ MY ALCOHOL DIARY ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── now playing…

[ENG SUB] Luna’s Drunken Truths?🌙 A New Side You’ve Never Seen Before ✨🍻 [Nothing Much Prepared]

synopsis: Luna is here! Luna joins Youngji for some laughs, deep talks, and a few fun surprises on this episode of My Alcohol Diary.

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ more interviews

bold dialogues are spoken in english ღ

Lee Youngji, in her typical lively fashion, was seen darting around her cozy apartment, her slippers barely keeping up with her hurried steps. The camera followed her movements closely as she rushed from one corner of the room to the other, adjusting chairs, straightening the table, and arranging food and drinks with a touch of anxious energy.

Plates of snacks, ranging from fried chicken to Korean side dishes, lined the table, all meticulously laid out. Bottles of soju, beer, and soda stood ready in perfect rows— except today, there was something a little extra on display.

Youngji glanced back at the neatly arranged bottles of red and white wine with a look that was half-pride, half-nervousness. “Ya, seriously, look at me. Expensive wine! Since when do I buy expensive wine?” She muttered to herself with a dramatic flair as her small crew, seated off at the front, watched her, biting back smiles.

“She looks like someone who drinks the good stuff, okay? She’s got that vibe. Like… luxury.” Her hand fluttered nervously over the bottles again, repositioning them for the third time.

One of the writers snickered, causing Youngji to spin around, her face an exaggerated mix of panic and excitement. “I’m not kidding! You all don’t understand. She’s… she’s intimidating! She hasn’t even arrived yet, and I’m already shaking. Hoshi warned me! He was here a few months ago, and I messaged him and asked him about her. You know what he said?” She paused dramatically, eyes wide, as though she were telling a ghost story.

The crew leaned in, intrigued by the suspense she was building.

“He told me,” she whispered, eyes darting to the camera as if someone might overhear her secret, “that she doesn’t drink beer because she doesn’t like the taste.”

This revelation was met with a burst of laughter from her crew. Youngji threw her hands up, pacing in front of the table. “Can you imagine?! I only had beer! What am I going to do? Should I just… drink by myself?” She exaggeratedly reached for one of the wine bottles and opened it, pouring herself a glass of white. She sipped, her brows furrowing slightly as she tasted the drink. "That's why I got this."

“I bought the expensive kind,” she said, swirling the glass. “You know why? Because she gives off that expensive vibe. Like… a black credit card kind of energy.” She raised her eyebrows as if to say, You know what I mean, before taking another sip.

“Ah, this is why I dressed up today! Look at me.” She gestured to her outfit— an unusually stylish ensemble compared to her usual casual attire. “I had to. I want her to like me! I mean, I usually just wear whatever I find first in my closet, but today? No way. I had to step it up.”

The staff erupted in laughter again, knowing full well that Youngji was half-joking but also genuinely nervous. She glanced at the camera again, then sighed dramatically, collapsing onto the couch, wine glass in hand. “I’m doomed. What if she doesn’t laugh at my jokes? What if she just stares at me with those intimidating eyes, and I crumble?” She covered her face with her hands for a moment, peeking out from between her fingers before groaning and sitting up.

“I swear, if she doesn’t like me, I’ll blame you guys,” she said, pointing accusingly at the staff. “You’re supposed to make me look good, and here I am looking like a nervous wreck.” She waved her arms dramatically, showcasing the haphazardly arranged table and the slightly cluttered apartment.

Her crew laughed again, and Youngji couldn’t help but laugh along with them. “Okay, okay, enough with the nerves. I’ve got this. Right?” She gave the camera a confident look, only to immediately second-guess herself. “No? You don’t think I’ve got this? Well, we’ll see.”

“No, I can do this,” she said, trying to hype herself up. “I just need to relax, right? Right. I mean, I’m Lee Youngji, damn it. I can make anyone laugh.”

The camera cut to a shot of her crew trying not to laugh too loudly as Youngji stared dramatically at her glass, muttering to herself once more, “Yeah… even Luna…”

With one last glance at the table, Youngji nodded to herself and turned back to the camera, her smile wide and her energy high.

“Alright, guys. Stay tuned. Because today… a princess is coming.”

Youngji, still buzzing with nervous energy, paced back and forth across the small living room as she adjusted the two large boxes of pizza on the table. She glanced at the red and white wine bottles once more, nodding to herself. "Okay, so we've got options," she muttered under her breath, pushing her hair back as she opened a drawer beneath the table.

With a swift motion, she pulled out a bottle of soju and— after a bit of rummaging— a bottle of gin.

"Just in case," she told herself as she placed them both down. She then turned to her crew, who had been quietly laughing at her antics from the sidelines. “I mean, what if she’s like, ‘Oh, I don't want to drink wine today,’ and then I look like a bad host? Can’t have that. So, variety!" She tapped the gin bottle with a grin. "This one’s a wildcard. I’ve never even had gin before.”

One of the writers laughed. “Are you gonna try it before she gets here?”

Youngji widened her eyes. "I mean… yeah, why not? Let’s see what we’re working with." She grabbed the gin bottle, twisting the cap open. The strong, herbal smell hit her instantly, making her reel back with an exaggerated grimace. “Woah! Okay! Wow, it smells like… it smells like it's gonna end me. This stuff smells dangerous.”

Her crew chuckled, egging her on as she poured a shot. With a deep breath, she threw back the shot, and her entire face contorted in an instant. She physically recoiled, her shoulders pulling in tight as she squeezed her eyes shut, barely suppressing a full-body shiver.

"Yeah, nope. That’s definitely strong," she gasped, blinking rapidly as she set the shot glass down on the table with more force than intended. “She’s definitely not going to like this. I mean, if she doesn’t like the taste of beer, this is gonna be a hard no.”

Just as she continued joking with the director about their drink options, the doorbell suddenly rang, cutting through the chatter.

Everyone froze.

There was a collective intake of breath from the crew as they turned toward the door, eyes wide.

Youngji’s eyes darted around the room before landing on the intercom on the wall. "Oh my god, she’s here! Guys, she's here!" she whispered, her hands flailing. In her excitement, she tripped over her own feet, catching herself on the back of the chair with a laugh. "Why am I like this?!"

Still panicking, she scrambled to the intercom, pressing the button to reveal a small screen showing a grainy video of Luna standing outside, waiting patiently at the door.

The camera zoomed in on Luna’s soft, bright features framed by her stylishly casual pink top, which showed off a glimpse of her effortless, chic vibe.

“Who is it?” Youngji asked, her voice playful, but she couldn’t hide the excitement.

“It’s Luna,” came the soft, melodic response from the other side, followed by a smile from the girl on screen. Luna’s face lit up with warmth as her voice echoed through the small apartment.

“Oh my god!” Youngji squealed before she dramatically slid down the wall in slow motion, as though the weight of meeting Luna in person had become too much to bear. Her crew burst into laughter, the room filling with their amusement as Youngji sat crumpled on the floor. “Why is she so pretty?! It’s not fair!” she wailed, covering her face with both hands.

Suddenly, as if struck by a lightning bolt of energy, Youngji shot to her feet and sprinted toward another room. “I need to put on perfume!” she yelled, disappearing into the hallway, her crew doubling over with laughter.

After a moment, Youngji reappeared, the perfume forgotten, trying to catch her breath. She took a deep breath, trying to center herself, and began to hum the chorus of “HOT” by SEVENTEEN as if to hype herself up. “Alright, let’s go!” she muttered, pacing back and forth again. “I’m fine… I can do this…”

She grabbed the gin bottle one more time, pouring another shot, and before she could second-guess herself, she downed it with a wince. “Nope. Still gross,” she whispered to no one in particular, her face scrunched up as she cringed once more. Shaking off the burn, she rushed toward the door.

“Who is it?” she asked again, a grin pulling at the corners of her mouth.

There was a soft laugh from the other side. “It’s Luna. It’s me.”

Youngji, dramatic as ever, slid down the door this time, her body slowly crumpling to the floor in a display of exaggerated defeat as her crew lost it, their laughter echoing throughout the room.

After a moment, she finally gathered herself, stood up with a playful determination, and opened the door. "Hello!"

There, in the doorway, stood Luna, her radiant smile soft and welcoming. She was dressed in a pastel pink top, casually draped over a cropped white tube top, paired with light-washed jeans that hugged her figure effortlessly. Her hair fell in gentle waves, her expression relaxed yet excited as if she’d just stepped out of a fashion shoot without trying too hard.

Youngji blinked, her jaw dropping slightly as she took in the sight before her. “Oh, wow,” she whispered, not quite realizing she’d said it out loud.

As Youngji opened the door, her eyes quickly darted to the box Luna was holding, wrapped in simple, elegant paper with a delicate ribbon tied around it. Without a second thought, she reached out and gently fussed over the box.

“Oh, no, no, no— give that to me. You shouldn't be holding that!” Youngji exclaimed, reaching for the box, her tone full of concern. She took it from Luna’s hands, cradling it carefully, as if it were something fragile.

Luna chuckled softly, bowing slightly to the crew and waving at the camera with a warm, easy smile. "Hello, everyone!" she greeted, her voice lilting and sweet as she gave the camera a quick wave. She looked genuinely pleased to be there, her smile growing wider as the crew responded with a collective greeting.

While Luna faced the camera, Youngji couldn't help but admire her from the back. The way Luna carried herself was effortless yet graceful— her top hanging perfectly over her shoulders, the soft, pink fabric catching the light. Youngji's eyes traced the loose waves of Luna’s hair and how they cascaded down her back.

She sighed under her breath. "How is she this pretty, though?"

After Luna finished greeting the crew, she turned her attention back to Youngji, her smile never faltering. “Youngji, it’s so good to finally see you in person,” she exclaimed.

Youngji, caught off guard by her own admiring thoughts, blinked and smiled back. “I know, right? It feels like we’ve been trying to schedule this for forever! Come in, sit, sit!” she urged, motioning to the table. She gently placed the box she had taken from Luna on the table as Luna took a seat across from her.

Youngji’s curiosity piqued, she glanced at the box again and asked, "So, what's in here? Is it for me?" Her eyes sparkled with genuine excitement.

Luna nodded, her lips curling into a small smile. “Yes, it’s a gift. I wanted to bring something special since I’ve known I’d be coming on your show for a while now.”

With wide eyes, Youngji carefully opened the box, peeling back the ribbon and lifting the lid with anticipation. Inside, nestled carefully in soft tissue paper, was a stunningly beautiful set of plates, cups, spoons, and forks— each piece looked intricately designed, with delicate patterns running along the edges. The set had an unmistakable elegance, the kind that screamed of fine craftsmanship. The plates and cups shimmered subtly under the lights, the porcelain pristine and polished, accented by gold and silver trimming.

Youngji gasped loudly, her mouth falling open as she froze for a moment, simply staring. “No way!” she finally breathed out. “This is— this is beautiful!” She turned the box towards her crew, showing them the set, and instantly, the room erupted into murmurs of amazement.

One of the staff members leaned in to get a closer look, and their director let out a low whistle. "Wow, that looks expensive," one of them commented.

“It is!” Youngji exclaimed, her eyes still wide. “Luna, why would you give me something this pretty? I don’t deserve this!” She looked up at Luna, completely stunned.

Luna laughed softly, shaking her head. “I was in Paris for a schedule a few weeks ago, and I thought of you. I know you like hosting and cooking on your show, so I figured you might appreciate something like this. Plus, I love pretty cutlery and tableware myself,” she added with a grin, “so I thought you might enjoy it too.”

Youngji blinked, processing Luna’s words as she gently ran her fingers over the smooth surface of one of the plates. “Wait, so you’ve been planning this? You thought of me while you were in Paris?” She sounded both flattered and bewildered, her voice growing a little softer as she spoke.

Luna nodded earnestly. “Yes. I wanted to get you something meaningful, and I knew I’d be coming here, so I wanted it to be special.”

Suddenly, Youngji stood up from her chair, bowing deeply on the ground in a dramatic fashion. "Thank you so much. I feel so honored! I don’t think I’ve ever received something this thoughtful in my life!” She remained bent at the waist, her voice filled with gratitude.

Luna’s laughter filled the room, the sound light and full of warmth. “Youngji, you don’t have to bow like that!” she said between giggles, waving her hands. “It’s just a gift. I’m happy you like it.”

As Youngji straightened up, she grinned from ear to ear. “Like it? I love it! I’m never going to let anyone else touch these— ever. They’re going into a glass case!” She cradled the box as if it were a precious relic.

The room was filled with laughter as the two women continued to gush over the gift.

Youngji leaned back in her chair, her eyes glinting with playful curiosity. “Okay, okay, let’s start this thing right,” she said, clasping her hands together dramatically. “So, I heard from Hoshi…” she paused for effect, glancing at Luna as if to prepare her for the big reveal, “…that you don’t drink beer?”

Luna laughed, a little sheepish as she nodded. “Yeah, beer’s really not my thing. I don’t like the taste.”

With an exaggerated nod, Youngji clapped her hands together. “I knew it! That’s why,” she gestured toward the small bar set up next to them, “I prepared an assortment of drinks for you. I thought, you know, options! Since you’re not a beer girl.” She stood up, making a grand gesture as she presented the collection of spirits and mixers she had lined up.

Luna raised her eyebrows in surprise, genuinely impressed. “Wow, this is… a lot. You didn’t have to do all that.”

“I know, but you deserve it,” Youngji said with a wink. “So, let’s see what we’ve got here. There’s soju, white wine, red wine, even some gin.” She paused, her expression suddenly serious as she pointed at one of the bottles. “I tried the gin earlier, and, to be honest, I’m not sure you’re gonna like it.”

Luna, instead of shying away as Youngji had expected, tilted her head and smiled. “I think I’ll try the gin, actually.”

The room fell into a brief silence.

“Wait, really?” Youngji blinked in disbelief, holding the bottle like it might bite. “You’re sure? Gin’s pretty strong, you know…”

Luna nodded confidently, her calm demeanor unwavering. “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s fine.”

Youngji eyed her suspiciously, but with a shrug, she began to pour two shots into small glasses. “Okay, okay,” she muttered, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

As the gin splashed into the glasses, Luna leaned back casually in her chair. “The only alcohol I don’t drink is beer,” she deadpanned, her voice so even and serious that it took a second for the joke to register. “And rubbing alcohol,” she added after a beat.

The room burst into laughter, including Youngji, who was nearly doubling over as she placed the gin bottle back on the table. “Oh my God, Luna, please!” she cackled, her voice high-pitched with mock of amusement. “You’re a comedian!”

Luna grinned, taking the glass from Youngji’s hand and raising it. “Cheers?”

Youngji straightened up and mirrored her, though her expression was still one of doubt. “Cheers!” They clinked their glasses together before tilting their heads back and downing the shots.

What shocked everyone in the room wasn’t Youngji, who immediately cringed and shuddered as if she had just been electrocuted— her whole body recoiling from the harsh bite of the gin.

It was Luna, who didn’t even flinch. She set her glass back down on the table without as much as a twitch, her face a picture of calm serenity, as if she had just taken a sip of water rather than a strong gin.

Youngji, still recovering, blinked at her in awe. “What the—” she stammered, her voice almost a whisper. “You didn’t even move!”

The crew let out murmurs of admiration, their eyes wide as they continued to marvel at Luna’s steely composure.

Luna laughed softly, raising her shoulders in a playful shrug. “What can I say? I’m just built differently.”

Youngji stared at her for a moment longer, completely shocked, before shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re scary, Luna,” she finally declared, making the crew chuckle. “Like, seriously.”

Luna’s laughter filled the room again, light and warm. “Oh, come on, I’m not scary!”

Youngji raised her hands, gesturing dramatically toward Luna’s cool composure. “This is exactly what I mean! Who takes gin like that? Scary.”

Luna shook her head, still smiling. “You’re too much.”

Wiping away an imaginary tear, Youngji straightened up in her chair and cleared her throat. “Alright, alright,” she began, transitioning the conversation with a more serious tone, “I just have to get this out of the way— because it’s been on my mind for a while.”

Luna raised an eyebrow, curious but smiling. “Oh? What is it?”

Youngji leaned forward, eyes narrowing playfully. “You… intimidate me,” she confessed with a laugh, though there was a slight hint of truth in her tone. “Like, seriously. I don’t know why, but I was so nervous before meeting you!”

Luna’s lips curled into a knowing smirk, her eyebrow lifting in amusement. “You’re not the first to say that,” she replied, her voice light and almost teasing. “I get that a lot, actually.”

Youngji’s eyes widened slightly as she sat back, looking genuinely surprised. “Really?”

Luna nodded, her expression softening. “Yeah. Ever since I was younger, people would always tell me I gave off that vibe,” she explained with a shrug. “Even during my trainee years, people thought I was kind of… scary, I guess.”

Youngji tilted her head, clearly intrigued. “But, like, you’re so chill. Did that ever bother you? People thinking you’re intimidating?”

For a moment, Luna hesitated, her gaze dropping to the table as she considered the question. Then, she shook her head. “It used to when I was younger. It kind of got to me because I thought, ‘Why do people think that about me? I’m not like that at all.’” She paused, her voice soft but steady. “But I realized, you know, people are gonna believe what they want to believe. And usually, once they get to know me, that impression changes.”

Youngji nodded thoughtfully, absorbing Luna’s words. “So it doesn’t offend you anymore?”

Luna shook her head again, more firmly this time. “No, not really. I mean, it’s a part of life, right? First impressions aren’t always accurate.” She chuckled softly before glancing toward the cameras where the director and staff were sitting, her eyes twinkling with humor. “I’m not a scary person, I promise,” she called out to them, making everyone laugh. “My face just looks like this! It’s my resting face.”

Youngji burst out laughing, nodding in agreement. “See, this is why you’re dangerous! The duality!”

Luna couldn’t help but join in, her laughter filling the room as Youngji playfully fanned herself, pretending to recover from the “shock” of Luna’s words.

Youngji clinked her glass lightly against Luna's before refilling both their glasses with gin, the clear liquid sloshing in the light. She squinted at Luna mischievously, a playful grin pulling at the corner of her lips.

“Alright, Luna-ssi,” she said, leaning forward a little, eyebrows raised in faux suspicion, “I wanna hear some things about your drinking habits. What’s the deal? You don’t like drinking beer, but... for some reason like gin. What’s your alcohol tolerance, hm?” Her words came out with that infectious energy she was known for, her curiosity a mix of casual but always playful.

Luna, who had been comfortably sitting, looked amused at the question. She let out a light laugh, glancing down at the gin-filled glass in front of her. “Well,” she began, her voice thoughtful, “I don’t really like drinking that much. I guess you could say I’m more of a social drinker. I mean... I drink when it’s for occasions like this—” she gestured around to Youngji and the cameras. “—but I don’t usually go out of my way for it.”

Youngji leaned in closer, her eyes wide with exaggerated disbelief. “Oh come on, you have to give me more than that! What about your tolerance? You seem like you could hold your own.”

Luna chuckled, shaking her head. “Actually, I do have a pretty high alcohol tolerance.” She paused, taking the glass and swirling the gin around as if she were contemplating it deeply. “But... I’m going to be honest, I think this gin is going to end me tonight.”

That comment got a chorus of laughter from the crew, and Youngji burst into giggles, almost spilling her own drink in the process. “That’s what I thought!” Youngji exclaimed, slapping her knee. “Gin is no joke! It’s like... it’s like a slap in the face.”

Luna grinned, raising the glass to her lips but pausing to add, “But don’t get me wrong— I’m not saying I can’t handle it. It’s just... you know… It’s strong.”

Youngji dramatically recoiled back into her chair, waving her hands. “No, no. You’re too calm about this. If you’ve got a high tolerance, I’m scared for my own life now.” Her voice dropped in mock fear, and she glanced towards the crew with an exaggerated wide-eyed expression.

Luna deadpanned, looking Youngji squarely in the eye. “Youngji-ah... you’re not normal.”

Youngji cackled so hard she nearly fell out of her chair, grabbing the edge of the table for support as she doubled over in laughter. Her laughter was infectious, and soon, everyone in the room was laughing along with her, the absurdity of the situation settling over them like a warm blanket.

Still recovering, Youngji wiped a tear from her eye, shaking her head. “I—” she began, gasping for breath. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” She held her hands up in surrender but was still chuckling. “I’ll tone it down.”

Luna just shook her head, smiling warmly. “Don’t worry about it,” she replied smoothly, her calm demeanor only adding to the comedic contrast of the situation. “I’m used to it. Besides, I work with thirteen guys. Crazy is... pretty much my normal.”

That comment earned another round of laughter from the crew, and even Youngji was back to cackling, clapping her hands. “Touché! Oh my God, you’ve definitely been through it.”

Luna gave a knowing nod, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. “You have no idea.”

As the laughter died down, Youngji straightened herself in her chair, taking her glass of gin again. “Alright, alright,” she said, breathing deeply as if preparing for battle. “Here we go, another shot of gin— because I’m trying to be brave in front of Luna.”

Luna gave her a mock-serious nod like she was some kind of alcohol sensei. “Good luck,” she said solemnly, lifting her own glass. They clinked glasses once more and threw back their drinks, Youngji immediately cringing as the gin hit her throat.

“Aghhh!” Youngji exclaimed, shaking her head violently as the strong alcohol sent a wave of heat through her chest. “I’m... alive... but barely.”

Luna, on the other hand, took her shot like a pro, setting the glass down with a cool, calm expression. “Not bad,” she said casually.

Youngji stared at her, completely dumbfounded. “How are you so calm?! Do you not have taste buds or something? That was like drinking fire!”

Luna chuckled, but her expression remained almost too composed. “You just need practice,” she said, her voice light and teasing. The crew burst into laughter once again at her nonchalant attitude, while Youngji just pointed at Luna in mock accusation.

“You are terrifying. Absolutely terrifying,” Youngji declared, pretending to back away from her guest as if she were dangerous.

Luna finally let out a real laugh, shaking her head. “I promise, I’m not that scary,” she reassured her, though the grin on her face said otherwise.

“Well, Luna,” Youngji sighed, leaning back in her chair dramatically. “I think I’ve learned something today— never challenge Luna to a drinking contest.” She pointed at the camera as if issuing a public service announcement. “Don’t do it. You will lose.”

The two shared another laugh, the playful energy between them making the room feel alive.

Youngji leaned back in her chair, eyes sparkling with the mischievous curiosity that made her such a great host. “So…” she started, a playful tone creeping into her voice as she transitioned to English, “I heard you’re from London.”

Luna raised her eyebrows and let out a small chuckle. “Oh, you heard?” she teased. She knew this topic would come up eventually— it always did.

“Yeah!” Youngji exclaimed, practically bouncing in her seat as she grabbed her glass for another sip. “I’ve been dying to ask you about that. So, you grew up in Kensington, right?”

Luna smiled warmly, nodding. “Yeah, I was born and raised there.”

Youngji’s eyes widened as if she had just been handed some earth-shattering news. “Kensington! That sounds so fancy! Isn’t that where all the rich people live?” Her tone was exaggerated, causing Luna to burst out laughing.

“It’s not that fancy,” Luna tried to downplay it, still giggling. “But yeah, it’s a nice area.”

Youngji leaned in dramatically, narrowing her eyes. “So, do you have that proper British accent? Like the ones in movies? Can you say something like—” she thought for a second, then added in the most over-the-top British accent she could manage, “Would you like a cup of tea, madam?”

Luna doubled over laughing, holding up her hand. “No, no, no— oh my God, that accent!” she exclaimed, barely able to get the words out. “That’s like… a parody of what people think British people sound like!”

Youngji grinned, not backing down. “Oh, come on! You gotta give me something! Is your accent like that?”

Luna shook her head, still laughing. “My accent’s softer now,” she explained. “It used to be a lot deeper when I was younger. Very English. But I’ve lived abroad so long now, it’s kind of… faded. Plus, I’ve been in Korea for years, so it’s not as strong as it used to be.”

Youngji’s eyes lit up with intrigue. “Ooooh, so you were, like, super British when you were little?”

Luna nodded, a fond smile crossing her lips. “Yeah, I was very much the stereotypical British kid— mummy can I have some more cake,” she said in a perfect British accent, throwing her hand up in an exaggerated way that made Youngji cackle in delight. “My mom loved to bake, so I would say that a lot.”

“There it is!” Youngji pointed at her, laughing. “That’s the accent I wanted to hear! You sounded like you just walked out of a Harry Potter!”

Luna rolled her eyes playfully. “I mean, it’s still there… when I’m really tired, frustrated, or angry, it comes out more.”

Youngji leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Okay, I have to hear you speak when tired then.”

Luna smirked, raising her glass. “Maybe after a few more drinks. We’ll see.”

Youngji grinned at the challenge. “I’ll hold you to that!”

They both clinked their glasses, and the atmosphere between them relaxed and filled with a playful energy.

“So, what’s it like growing up there?” Youngji asked, refilling Luna’s glass. “It sounds so glamorous.”

Luna shrugged casually, swirling the gin in her glass. “I mean, it was… nice, but it wasn’t all that different from growing up anywhere else, I guess. Except maybe the weather— it’s London, mostly gloomy. It rains a lot.”

Youngji scrunched her nose in mock disgust. “Oh no, I’d hate that. I need sunshine to survive.”

Luna laughed. “Yeah, me too! Gloomy weather makes me feel like I’m sick but I do miss it sometimes.”

Youngji tapped her chin, her eyes narrowing again as if something had just dawned on her. “Wait, does that mean you drank tea all the time? Isn’t that, like, a thing in the UK?”

Luna deadpanned, her voice dropping to a flat, mock-serious tone. “Yes. Tea is basically our water.”

Youngji burst out laughing again, clutching her stomach. “I knew it! I knew it was real!”

Luna grinned, shaking her head. “No, but seriously—everyone drinks tea. It’s a big deal.”

“Did you ever go to those fancy tea parties?” Youngji asked, still giggling.

Luna snorted. “What do you think, we all sit around in gowns drinking tea out of gold cups? It’s not like that!”

Youngji threw her head back laughing. “I was imagining you in one of those big hats and everything!”

“Yeah, no,” Luna chuckled. “It was mostly just normal attire with a cup of tea.”

Youngji wiped away a tear from laughing so hard, shaking her head. “Oh my God, you’re destroying all my British fantasies.”

“Good,” Luna said, raising her glass again. “Someone needed to.”

The two of them burst into laughter once more, the conversation flowing seamlessly between playful banter and genuine curiosity. Every now and then, Luna’s British accent would slip out, only to send Youngji into another fit of giggles as she begged her to keep talking like that.

Youngji, still giggling from their last exchange about tea parties, reached for the bottle of gin and poured them both another shot. “Okay, one more,” she said with a playful grin, raising her glass. Luna winced but smiled, nodding in agreement. They clinked their glasses together, and with a quick breath, they downed the shots.

Luna’s face immediately scrunched up as the gin burned its way down her throat. “Oh my God,” she groaned, setting her glass down as if it had personally offended her. “I’m starting to feel it.”

Youngji, equally as dramatic, smacked her lips, shaking her head in mock disbelief. “How do people drink this for fun?!” she exclaimed, fanning her face.

Luna laughed, “I don’t know… we are doing it right now though.”

Youngji burst out laughing again, slumping back into her chair. “Girl— you’re right, girl!”

Still recovering from the shot, Youngji tapped her fingers on the table, curiosity creeping into her expression. “So,” she began, “I’ve always wondered… Why did you want to become an idol? And how was it adjusting to moving to Korea?”

Luna took a deep breath, leaning back in her chair as she smiled a little to herself. “Honestly, it shocked me as much as anyone else,” she started. “I was a ballerina back in London, you know.”

Youngji’s eyes lit up, and she pointed at Luna with exaggerated confidence. “I know! You were!”

Luna couldn’t help but chuckle at how proud Youngji sounded, but she continued her story. “Yeah, so I was pretty set on becoming a professional ballet dancer. That was my world. But… when I was about thirteen, something weird happened.”

Youngji leaned forward, intrigued. “Weird how?”

Luna’s eyes sparkled with the memory, her voice becoming more animated. “I was doing a ballet recital, right? Performing in front of a big crowd like I usually do. And I was always laser-focused when I performed ballet— always. But that night… for some reason, as I was dancing, this… this urge came over me.”

Youngji’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “An urge?”

“To sing,” Luna said, almost dramatically, her eyes wide with disbelief, even as she remembered it. “In the middle of my ballet routine, I had this sudden urge to just start singing. Like, right then and there on stage. I had never felt anything like that before.”

Youngji’s mouth fell open in shock. “What?! You wanted to just burst out into song during a ballet performance?”

Luna nodded, laughing softly at the absurdity of it. “Exactly. I remember thinking, ‘What is going on with me? I’m supposed to be focused on this performance, and all I can think about is singing.’ That’s when I knew something was shifting.”

Youngji stared at her, mouth still agape before finally pointing at Luna again. “You’re insane,” she said, but with the utmost affection. “In the best way, though.”

Luna grinned, shaking her head. “I guess so. That’s when I started thinking seriously about singing and performing on stage in a different way.”

Youngji was still processing Luna’s unexpected revelation, but then her expression shifted, curiosity spiking again. “So… how did your parents react to all of this? Were they, like, cool with you just dropping ballet?”

Luna leaned back, taking a moment to think. “Well, at first, they were pretty hesitant— my mom especially since she’s a retired ballerina and she trained me. Ballet had been my life for so long, and they had supported me all the way. So when I told them I wanted to move to Korea and become an idol…”

Youngji gasped dramatically, leaning in with a hand to her chest. “Wait, you told them that straight up?! You didn’t slowly plant the idea in their head?”

“Yeah,” Luna laughed. “I was dead serious. They were pretty surprised, but once they saw how committed I was, they agreed. It wasn’t easy, though.”

Youngji nodded, still hanging on every word. “So when did you move to Korea?”

“When I was about fourteen,” Luna replied. “I stayed with my aunt for a while before I started training.”

“Fourteen?!” Youngji exclaimed. “That’s so young! Was it hard adjusting?”

Luna nodded thoughtfully. “It was really tough at first. Being away from home, mastering Korean— I knew a little Korean before moving here but it wasn’t perfect, so naturally I had to study. I had to balance school and training… it was a lot.”

Youngji’s expression softened. “But you had your members, right?”

Luna smiled warmly. “Yeah, I’m really grateful for them. They helped me adjust, especially Jeonghannie oppa.”

Youngji perked up at the mention of Jeonghan’s name. “Jeonghan-ssi? Really? Why?”

Luna nodded. “He was my first real friend when I got here. He kind of looked out for me and took care of me, made sure I wasn’t too homesick.”

Youngji’s eyes softened, a rare moment of calm on her usually excitable face. “That’s sweet.”

Luna chuckled. “Yeah, he’s pretty sweet.”

Youngji, not missing a beat, clapped her hands together and leaned in again, her usual energy returning. “Okay, but wait— did he help you learn Korean, or did he just make fun of you the whole time?”

Luna burst out laughing at the thought. “A bit of both, honestly. He definitely teased me a lot.”

“Of course he did. Teenage boys are like that.” Youngji deadpanned, shaking her head knowingly.

The two of them dissolved into laughter once again, the conversation shifting back to their usual playful banter.

Youngji, still smiling after Luna’s sweet mention of Jeonghan, leaned forward and asked, curiosity lighting up her face. “Okay, so what’s it like having thirteen guys around you all the time? It must be insane, unnie!”

She grabbed another piece of food from the table and popped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully as she waited for Luna’s answer. Luna, mirroring Youngji’s actions, took a bite herself, pausing for a second to gather her thoughts.

“It’s… honestly, it’s the best,” Luna said with a soft smile. “I feel really blessed to have them. They’re like… my family.”

Youngji’s eyebrows shot up dramatically, and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Thirteen brothers? That’s, like, a sitcom waiting to happen!” she exclaimed, waving her chopsticks in the air.

Luna awkwardly laughed before nodding in agreement. “You could say that. But really, I’m so grateful that I met them.”

Youngji pointed her chopsticks at Luna, her eyes wide with exaggerated amazement. “Girl, you better be grateful! You’ve got a whole squad.”

Luna chuckled, leaning back in her seat as she reminisced. “I’m an only child, so growing up, I was used to being on my own. I loved it in a lot of ways, but… it was kind of lonely sometimes.”

Youngji raised her eyebrows and nodded. “Yeah, I bet. No siblings to steal your clothes or your food or fight over toys with?”

“Exactly!” Luna replied, laughing. “But it also meant I didn’t have that built-in friend growing up. I didn’t really have that many close friends in school either. I was… a little bit shy, I guess.”

Youngji gasped dramatically. “You? Shy?”

Luna nodded, her laughter more sheepish now. “Yeah, I was. I remember wishing I could have a lot of friends, people I could really trust, you know? And now… well, now I have thirteen best friends.”

Youngji’s jaw dropped again as if she had just heard the most unbelievable thing in the world. “Thirteen best friends… That’s so unfair,” she groaned, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hand. “I’m so jealous.”

Luna smiled softly, her eyes shining as she continued, “Honestly, I don’t know what I would do without them. Sometimes I think about it, you know? In another universe, maybe I didn’t audition, or maybe I didn’t end up in the final lineup… but I still feel like, somehow, I would have found my way to them. Even if it was just as a fan.”

Youngji let out a dramatic wail, sliding off her chair onto the floor as if Luna’s words had physically overwhelmed her. “Noooo! Why are you so sweet?” she whined, lying face-down on the ground, her hands covering her head as if she couldn’t handle the emotions.

Luna burst out laughing, pointing at Youngji flopped on the floor like a starfish. “What are you doing?” she giggled, her laughter echoing through the room.

Youngji peeked up from the ground, her face scrunched up in mock agony. “You’re so lucky! I want thirteen best friends too! Why don’t I have that?!”

Luna, still laughing, shook her head. “Well, you can start with me. I’ll be your first best friend.”

Youngji’s eyes widened like a child who had just been told they could have unlimited candy. “Really?!” she squealed, and then suddenly, she started wiggling on the ground, sliding up and down like a worm. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” she chanted, her excitement bubbling over, making the camera crew in the room burst into laughter as well.

Luna was laughing so hard her stomach hurt, and between giggles, she pointed at Youngji. “Okay, stop! Get off the floor!” she said playfully, shaking her head in disbelief.

Youngji, still wiggling dramatically, finally let out a sigh of contentment and flopped onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m jealous, but like, in the best way,” she declared with a dramatic wave of her hand. “You’re so lucky. Thirteen best friends… I’m still gonna say it’s unfair.”

Luna chuckled, combing her fingers through her hair. “Well, now you have me, so we’re off to a good start.”

Youngji sat up with a determined look in her eyes. “I’m starting my own best friend group. It’s gonna be epic.”

The crew continued to laugh as Youngji sat cross-legged on the floor, her hands on her hips as if she had just made the most important decision of her life.

As Youngji clambered back onto her seat, she dusted off her pants with exaggerated flair, earning a few chuckles from the crew. Settling into her chair, she reached for her drink, only for Luna to suddenly deadpan, “I must be getting tipsy… I don’t usually pour my feelings out like this.”

Her tone was so unexpectedly dry and serious that the entire room erupted in laughter. Even Youngji slapped the table, her shoulders shaking as she tried to catch her breath.

Luna blinked innocently, bringing her hand up to check her own cheeks for warmth. “Yeah, definitely getting warm…”

Youngji, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, snickered, “Oh no, if you’re getting tipsy, then I’m in serious trouble.” She leaned in closer, almost as if she was about to share a secret, “You know what this means? It’s time for a drinking game.”

Luna raised an eyebrow, watching curiously as Youngji turned towards the front of the set, where one of the crew members handed her something. Youngji grabbed it with a grin, bringing it back to the table like a prize she couldn’t wait to show off.

From behind her back, she revealed a toy: the Pop-Up Pirate game, except instead of the usual pirate figure in the barrel, it was a tiny Hello Kitty, and the entire barrel was painted pink with adorable little hearts.

Luna’s eyes lit up, a mixture of amusement and surprise flickering across her face. “That’s so cute!” she exclaimed, pointing at the Hello Kitty figure. Her attention was half on the game and half on the food still on her plate, absentmindedly eating as Youngji prepared the game.

Youngji was in her element now, the gin starting to take full effect as she chaotically began explaining the rules, her words coming out in a rapid, excited slur. “Okay, okay, here’s how it works. You stick the swords in the barrel—” she made a dramatic poking motion, “—and when Hello Kitty pops up? Boom, you gotta take a shot.”

Luna nodded slowly, processing the instructions as she chewed on her food, her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. Still mid-bite, she asked, “What does the winner get?”

There was a pause.

Everyone turned to look at her, including the crew, and they couldn’t hold back their laughter at how adorable she looked, her face stuffed with food, eyes wide with curiosity. “She’s so cute,” one of the staff whispered to another, and Youngji pointed at Luna, grinning like she’d found her new favorite thing.

“Bragging rights, obviously!” Youngji declared triumphantly, waving her hand as if that was the ultimate prize.

Luna simply nodded, her cheeks still full as she swallowed her bite. “Got it,” she said, her voice muffled but satisfied.

Youngji, still laughing under her breath, scooted some glasses out of the way, creating space in the middle of the table. With an overly dramatic flourish, she placed the pink barrel in the center, the little Hello Kitty bobbing slightly in its spot.

Youngji, with her trademark tipsy grin, raised her arms in the air like she was signaling a race. “Alright, let’s start!” she slurred excitedly.

Luna, still chewing quietly, gave a little “Ok” hand sign, her cheeks slightly puffed out with food, causing more chuckles from the crew.

Youngji wobbled a little in her chair before turning her attention to Luna, who was still chewing. “Since you’re the guest…” Youngji waved her hand dramatically toward the Hello Kitty barrel. “You go first!”

Luna, still in her quiet, focused state, swallowed her last bite and calmly reached over to the tiny pink sword resting on the table. She picked it up, inspecting it for a second before leaning in toward the barrel. She found an empty slot and gingerly inserted the sword into the opening.

The crew watched closely, but Hello Kitty remained safely inside.

“Ahhh, close one,” Youngji teased, her voice slurred as she pointed at Luna. “See? Beginner’s luck… but don’t worry, it won’t last.”

Luna simply smiled, staying quiet as she reached for another bite of food. It was now Youngji’s turn, and she stood up, suddenly all fired up. “Alright, alright. Watch this!” she boasted, picking up her mini sword with exaggerated importance. “I’m, like, really good at this game. Haven’t lost once.”

The crew exchanged knowing glances, stifling their laughter, but Youngji didn’t notice. She rambled on, standing over the pink barrel. “See, the key is to—” But before she could finish her sentence, she slid her sword into the slot, and with a loud pop, Hello Kitty flew out of the barrel.

The entire crew burst into laughter, clapping and pointing at Youngji’s misfortune as she stood there frozen in shock, mouth open in disbelief.

Luna, meanwhile, glanced up at Youngji with her big doe eyes, still chewing quietly, almost like she was mentally asking, What was that?

The silence was broken when the crew started chanting, “Shot! Shot! Shot!” Luna bopped her head lightly to the chant, finding the whole situation far too amusing.

Youngji snapped back to reality, letting out a playful groan as she reached for the bottle to pour herself a shot. “Alright, alright, I get it. I lost,” she mockingly declared, waving off the crowd with fake defeat as she poured the drink. “I’ll drink, I’ll drink…”

Luna, having swallowed her bite by now, deadpanned, “Wah, Youngji, you really have bad luck.”

The crew erupted into even louder laughter, and Youngji scoffed, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe the shade being thrown at her. “Yah! It’s not that! I told you, you’re just too lucky!”

Luna, with her perfect comedic timing, tilted her head slightly and responded, “It could be both.”

Youngji had barely raised the shot glass to her lips when Luna’s words hit, causing her to almost spit out her drink as she laughed. The sight of Youngji trying to keep it together only made the crew laugh harder.

Luna chuckled at the chaos she’d just created, clearly entertained by how easily her words had thrown Youngji off balance.

Youngji, still giggling from her last defeat, slapped her hands on the table and leaned toward Luna, her words slightly slurring. “Alright, round two. We’re doing another one!” She pointed dramatically at the barrel, her drunken determination shining through.

Luna smirked and nodded calmly, her coolness an amusing contrast to Youngji’s energetic chaos. “Sure,” she said, her voice even. “Let’s do it.”

They reset the barrel, and Youngji, with exaggerated concentration, handed Luna another pink sword. “You first,” she slurred, pretending to be gracious.

Luna inserted her sword into the barrel with ease, Hello Kitty remained still.

Youngji shot her a suspicious look, leaning in toward the toy. “This time for sure,” she muttered under her breath as she selected her own sword. She raised it above her head like it was a lightsaber. “Watch and learn,” she bragged, but her hand wobbled as she inserted the sword— nothing happened.

Luna, still calm, chose her next sword without much fuss, slipping it in.

Again, nothing.

Youngji was clearly trying to psyche herself up. “You know,” she said, slurring slightly, “I have a theory. I think this Hello Kitty likes me. That’s why she’s staying in, she doesn’t want to leave me.” She poked at the toy’s head playfully.

Luna bit back a smile. “Maybe you’re too nice. You should try being more firm with her.”

Youngji shook her head, picking up another sword. “Oh, no, no, no. It’s all about finesse.” She placed her sword into the barrel, her fingers barely grazing the surface as she bragged, “See, I—” But her sentence was cut off by the sudden pop of the toy, and Hello Kitty flew out, shocking them both.

The crew erupted in laughter again as Youngji froze in disbelief, her hands raised in surrender. “Noooo!” she cried, her voice dramatically slurred as she pointed accusingly at the barrel. “I swear this game is rigged.”

Luna calmly looked at her, then tilted her head slightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I don’t think Hello Kitty likes you that much,” she deadpanned.

The crew lost it, laughing even harder at Luna’s cool and dry delivery. Youngji’s jaw dropped, her hands flailing toward Luna as she exclaimed, “You— Luna… you’re too much.” She poured herself a shot as the crew continued to chant, “Shot! Shot! Shot!”

Luna sat back, watching the scene unfold, her smile subtle but growing as Youngji dramatically poured her drink. “You’re too lucky!” Youngji whined, shooting Luna a side-eye.

Luna leaned in slightly. “Or maybe,” she quipped, “you’re just that unlucky.”

Youngji snorted and almost choked on her drink. “It’s both,” she said between coughs, while Luna chuckled under her breath, clearly entertained.

Youngji, wiping her eyes from the laughter, looked at Luna with a sly grin. “Alright, alright, you won fair and square, but now… since you’re on a winning streak, you have to do something special for the viewers.” She leaned in conspiratorially, her tone dripping with mischief. “How about a little dance from SEVENTEEN’s new comeback song, ‘_WORLD’? Give the people what they want!”

Luna, mid-chuckle, raised an eyebrow in amusement, “You want me to dance now? Here?”

“Yes!” Youngji pointed at her dramatically, her words slurred with excitement. “You gotta show off for the audience. It’s what the fans want! Plus, you’re on a roll.”

Luna rolled her eyes playfully, “You just want to see me dance.”

Youngji waved her hands dismissively. “Noooo!” Then, leaning in, she added with a wink, “Okay, maybe a little. But you always look amazing, I swear!”

With a small laugh, Luna reached for her phone, scrolling quickly to find the song, and joked. “Fine, fine, but don’t blame me if this goes viral.”

As Luna pulled up the track, Youngji suddenly snatched an empty glass cup from the table. “Wait, wait, wait! Put your phone in here!” she exclaimed, slurring the words as she held the cup out.

Luna’s laughter bubbled up as she realized what Youngji was suggesting. “You want to make a makeshift speaker?”

“Exactly!” Youngji nodded vigorously. “Trust me, it’ll make it sound soooo much better.”

Giggling, Luna placed her phone in the glass, and the music immediately amplified, filling the room with the upbeat rhythm of ‘_WORLD.’ Youngji clapped her hands with delight. “See? I’m a genius!”

Luna shook her head in amusement, standing up from her seat. “Okay, genius. Let’s see if I can pull this off tipsy.”

With the song blasting from the cup-turned-speaker, Luna waddled over to the small open space next to the table. Her movements were playful and exaggerated as she shuffled, her hands spread slightly for balance, eliciting laughter from Youngji and the crew.

Youngji, eyes wide and cheeks flushed from the alcohol clapped loudly. “Luna! Luna!” she cheered, her slurred voice barely keeping up with the rhythm.

As the chorus hit, Luna’s body naturally found the beat. Though the space was small and her head was a bit light from the drinks, she danced with an effortless grace, keeping her movements lively but controlled. She twirled lightly, then shot smiles and winks toward the camera, her face lighting up with the same charisma she showed on stage during performances.

Youngji, her enthusiasm spilling over, hollered, “Oh! Yesss! That’s it! Kill it, girl!” Her hands flailed in the air as she danced along with the song, albeit off-key and with a few mumbled words spilling out of her mouth.

The crew joined in, cheering and clapping, egging Luna on. Luna made eye contact with one of the cameras and winked, her expression flipping into full performance mode as she hit the final moves of the snippet. Her smile never wavered, and her eyes gleamed with playful confidence as if she were on stage at a massive concert rather than in a cozy room with tipsy friends.

As the chorus ended, Luna slowed her movements, bowing with a flourish as the music continued softly in the background. The room erupted into applause, Youngji leading the charge with a loud, “Woooo!” She slumped back into her seat, still clapping like an overenthusiastic fan.

“You’re too good! Too good!” Youngji exclaimed between claps, her words slurring even more now. “I don’t know how you do it. If I were you, I’d have fallen on my face by now!”

Luna giggled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you, thank you,” she said dramatically, bowing again. “But that was just me joking around.”

Youngji threw her hands up in mock disbelief. “Joking around?! Girl, that was perfection. I’m so jealous right now. I have a list now— I need thirteen best friends and your talent.”

Luna shook her head, laughing softly as she made her way back to the table. “You can have the best friends part, but the dancing? That’s all hard work.”

“Hard work and a little magic,” Youngji slurred, pouring herself another drink. She raised the glass toward Luna, still basking in the afterglow of the impromptu performance.

The crew chuckled at the toast, and Luna, a bit bashful, held up her glass in return. “I’ll take that,” she said with a grin. “Thank you, Youngji.”

They clinked glasses, Youngji still humming the melody of ‘_WORLD’ under her breath, completely content as Luna sat back down, feeling a little more lighthearted and relaxed.

Youngji, still buzzing from Luna’s impromptu performance, leaned forward with a playful grin. Her words came out slurred but full of curiosity. “Okay, okay, I gotta know,” she said, waving her hand dramatically in the air. “How do you do those killer facial expressions? Like… when you perform, you’re so good at it! Do you… like… practice in front of the mirror or something?”

Luna, who was nibbling on her pizza, chuckled softly and shook her head. “It’s not something I practice on purpose, really. I think it’s a talent I didn’t know I had, but it actually comes from ballet.”

“You do facial expressions in ballet?” Youngji repeated, eyes wide in drunken fascination. “Like… swan stuff?”

Luna nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, exactly. Facial expressions are really important in ballet. You have to convey a lot of emotion with your face because there’s no speaking. I think I just got used to emphasizing that, and when I perform with SEVENTEEN, it’s kind of second nature.”

Youngji stared at her, processing the information through her tipsy haze. “So… when you’re dancing, all those expressions… it’s like, fun for you? Like you enjoy making those faces?”

Luna nodded. “Yeah, it’s actually really fun. I think it helps relay the message of the song better. It’s one thing to dance, but if your face tells the story too, it’s more impactful.”

Youngji nodded vigorously. “Totally. Totally. So, like… what’s your favorite kind of expression? Like, do you like the cute stuff, or…?”

Luna laughed, glancing at her hands for a moment before answering. “I’m actually not that good at cute expressions,” she admitted, her voice a little shy. “I prefer the sexy, more mature, and cool looks.”

Youngji gasped in mock outrage. “Not good at cute?! Are you kidding? You’re, like, naturally cute! You literally proved that earlier when you danced!”

Luna couldn’t help but laugh again, nodding her head as she humored Youngji. “Thank you, I guess,” she said, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

“No, seriously,” Youngji insisted, her eyes wide with sincerity. “I’m telling the truth! You’re cute and sexy— it’s unfair!” She slapped the table lightly, the alcohol clearly fueling her exaggerated emotions.

Luna shook her head, still chuckling. “Okay, okay, I’ll take your word for it.”

But Youngji wasn’t done. With a sudden burst of energy, she clapped her hands. “Show us again! Show us those cute facial expressions while you dance. Come on, just one more time!”

Luna rolled her eyes playfully, though she was clearly enjoying the teasing. “What song should I play, then?” she asked, pulling out her phone and scrolling through her playlist.

Youngji thought for a moment, her face scrunched up in concentration. Then, as if a lightbulb had gone off, she shot up from her seat, clapping her hands together. “Oh! ‘Pretty U’! ‘Pretty U’! You have to do that one!” she shouted, pointing at Luna with wild excitement.

Luna raised an eyebrow, but she couldn’t suppress the smile creeping up on her lips. “‘Pretty U’? Really?”

“Yes!” Youngji slurred, nearly tripping over her own enthusiasm. “It’s perfect!”

With a cool nod, Luna found the song, played it, and once again placed her phone in the glass cup. As the music started, she stood up and stretched slightly, her movements slow and exaggerated as she prepared herself. “I’m really not good at cute expressions, you know,” she murmured under her breath as she walked back to the small open space.

Youngji, already swaying to the melody, slurred in disagreement. “Lies! Lies, I tell you! You perform this song so well! You’re gonna be adorable!”

Before Luna could start, Youngji held up a hand. “Wait, wait! You need a shot for more confidence!” She grabbed the bottle and poured a generous shot, handing it to Luna with a wide grin.

Luna burst out laughing, but she took the shot, downed it, and nodded at Youngji. “Alright, fine. Let’s see how this goes.”

As the bright, bubbly chorus of ‘Pretty U’ began to play, Luna shifted her demeanor. Her expression softened, a bright smile breaking across her face as she danced along to the chorus, the usual choreography mixed with over-the-top cute facial expressions. She batted her eyelashes toward the camera, made exaggerated heart signs, and even puffed her cheeks as she twirled lightly in the tiny space.

Youngji and her crew erupted into cheers and laughter, clapping wildly as Luna continued to dance. “You’re so cute!” Youngji shouted, her voice cracking from the sheer enthusiasm. “Yes, Luna, yes!”

As the chorus ended, Luna spun around and faced Youngji, raising an eyebrow in mock challenge. “Happy now?”

Youngji, now standing on her seat, clapping like an excited seal, nodded furiously. “Bravo! Bravo!” she shouted, her hands slapping together in rapid succession. “You nailed it, girl! I knew it!”

Luna, unable to contain her amusement, doubled over in laughter at the sight of Youngji standing on her chair, her face red with intoxicated excitement. “This is… you’re too much,” Luna giggled, shaking her head as the crew continued to cheer her on.

Youngji, still clapping and bouncing slightly on her chair, repeated, “Bravo!” in a slurred voice, clearly having the time of her life as Luna continued to laugh at the ridiculous scene unfolding before her.

Youngji, still high from the energy of Luna’s previous performance, wasn’t ready to let her off the hook. “Okay, okay, but now,” she slurred, eyes gleaming with excitement, “you gotta do your smirking, flirty face. You know the one I’m talking about!” She attempted a seductive smirk herself but ended up giggling at her own drunken attempt.

Luna was still laughing from Youngji’s dramatic cheering, but she played along. “Am I here to perform for you?” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “Should I play ‘HOT’ then? I feel like that’s the right vibe.”

Youngji’s reaction was immediate. She threw her hands up in the air, nearly tipping over on her chair. “Yes! ‘HOT’! Play it! That’s perfect!” she slurred with an exaggerated nod, her eyes wide with excitement.

With a cool, playful grin, Luna nodded and began scrolling through her playlist again, quickly finding the song. She placed her phone back into the makeshift glass speaker, the familiar intro of their song ‘HOT’ filling the room.

As the beat thumped through the small space, Luna shuffled back to the tiny open area, preparing herself. She glanced at Youngji, who was practically bouncing on top of her seat with anticipation. The chorus was nearing, and Luna’s demeanor shifted. Her playful expression turned more intense, eyes narrowing slightly as a slow, confident smirk spread across her lips.

Then, the chorus hit, and Luna moved effortlessly into the choreography of ‘HOT’, her body swaying with purpose. This time, instead of the playful cuteness, she exuded pure confidence, every movement sharp and deliberate. Her eyes locked with the camera, and there it was— that signature smirk that had fans going wild during SEVENTEEN’s performances. It was flirtatious and cool as if she knew exactly the effect she was having on anyone watching.

Youngji’s cheers grew louder. “Yes, Luna! That’s it! Work it! Girl crush, girl crush!” she yelled, practically shaking the chair as she stood on it, barely keeping her balance.

The crew joined in, clapping along and hyping Luna up as she danced, her expression never faltering from that seductive smirk.

Luna gave it her all, despite the limited space, the teasing expressions adding to the sultry energy of the song. Her hands moved in sync with the choreography, her movements fluid, and her eyes held that playful glint throughout the performance. It was as if she was commanding the entire room with just a look.

As the chorus came to a close, Luna slowed her movements, landing in a final pose with a flick of her hair and a wink at the camera, her smirk still intact. She let the last beat of the chorus fade out before straightening up, her cool expression breaking into a wide grin.

The room exploded in applause. Youngji, completely losing it, began clapping like a seal again, still standing on her chair, swaying dangerously. “Girl crush! You’re my girl crush!” she screamed, her voice cracking but filled with affection. “You’re so cool! How are you so cool? I’m in love!”

Luna, laughing at Youngji’s loud declaration, waved her hands in mock modesty. “Alright, alright, calm down!” she teased, unable to stop grinning at Youngji’s over-the-top reaction.

Youngji wasn’t having it though. She threw her hands up again, this time almost losing her balance. “No, seriously! You’re my girl crush! That was so hot!”

Luna could only laugh harder, holding her stomach as the crew joined in on the fun, clapping and cheering in agreement with Youngji. It was clear that the mood in the room was infectious, the playful energy carrying them through the rest of the night.

Luna slumped back into her seat, dramatically wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. “Okay, enough dancing,” she mock-panted, shooting Youngji a playful look. “I swear, one more move and I might black out.”

Youngji was still laughing and clapping like an overexcited fan, her voice slurring as she said, “Nooo, I can’t help it! I have a crush on you!” She repeated it, slurring the words, “I have a crush on Luna!” with the goofiest grin.

Luna giggled at her new friend’s antics before deadpanning, “Youngji… are you okay?” She raised an eyebrow, watching Youngji as she struggled to pour them another shot without spilling the soju. “You need to stop drinking,” Luna teased but held out her glass anyway, accepting the next round.

They clinked their glasses together with a loud clank, and both of them downed the shot. Youngji, eyes now heavy but still bright with mischief, turned to her and slurred, “Are you still okay, my crush?”

Luna tilted her head and took the shot with no reaction, her face entirely calm. “I’m almost there,” she said smoothly. “Tipsy, but still here.” She couldn’t help but laugh afterward, leaning forward slightly, “So, ‘my crush,’ huh? Is that what you’re calling me now?”

Youngji nodded furiously, her words tumbling out incoherently. “Yes, yes! My crush! You’re so cool, like— so cool.” Her eyes sparkled with admiration, the alcohol amplifying every bit of sincerity in her voice.

Luna chuckled, shaking her head at the adorable mess in front of her. “Okay, okay, your crush,” she played along, her tone light and teasing.

But Youngji wasn’t done. She wiped at her eyes dramatically, looking as serious as she could muster under her drunken haze. “I like people with duality, you know? People who can be both cute and sexy. Do you— do you have a celebrity crush?” She leaned in, her interest suddenly piqued.

Luna shook her head, still smiling. “Not really into real people like that. Honestly,” she answered, “most of my crushes have been on fictional characters from movies, shows, or books.” She laughed softly, remembering her own obsessions.

Youngji’s eyes widened, and then, as if she had just recalled something groundbreaking, she clapped her hands together loudly, nearly knocking her shot glass over. “Wait! I heard you have the biggest crush on Loki from Marvel!”

Luna couldn’t help but burst into laughter, clapping her hands in sync with Youngji’s excitement. She leaned back into her seat, covering her mouth as her shoulders shook with laughter. “Oh my god, yes,” she admitted through giggles. “Loki is… well, who doesn’t have a crush on him?”

Youngji, clearly invested now, leaned forward, eyes wide with curiosity. “Wait, wait, hold on,” she bombarded Luna, her words slightly slurred but enthusiastic. “What do you like about him? He’s handsome, sure, but he’s the bad guy, right? Is that your type?” Her voice rose playfully, her brows wiggling mischievously as if she’d uncovered something scandalous.

Luna chuckled, shaking her head at the accusation, her smile widening as the conversation shifted into familiar territory. “I mean I don’t have a specific type. Yeah, he’s handsome, and yeah, he’s the bad guy— kind of.” She began slowly, her voice steady but carrying more energy than it had earlier, an unmistakable sign that the alcohol was loosening her up more than she realized. “But that’s not why I like him.”

She straightened in her seat, her hands animated now as she started explaining, the words pouring out faster as she became more passionate about her topic. “It’s not just about him being a bad guy, you know? It’s his personality— he has this… this charm,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “He’s got this dry sense of humor that makes you laugh even when you don’t expect it. And the way he’s confident, but not in an obnoxious way. It’s more subtle like he knows he’s smart and capable, but he doesn’t need to prove it all the time.”

Youngji, who had been hanging onto every word, nodded in agreement, though clearly a little lost in the rapid-fire speech. “Hmm, that makes sense… but he still likes to cause trouble, right? Mischief? Isn’t that a big part of it?”

Luna grinned, leaning in a little as if sharing a secret. “Exactly! He’s mischievous,” she repeated with emphasis, her eyes glinting with something more. “But it’s not just for the sake of it— there’s always something deeper, something clever behind it. He’s always ten steps ahead, and that’s what makes him so interesting.” She paused for a beat, her mind briefly wandering, before she added with a softer, almost playful smile, “I guess I’ve always been drawn to that kind of personality… intelligent and calculated guys are very attractive to me.”

As Luna spoke, she unconsciously revealed more than she intended. Her words, though directed at Loki, seemed to resonate with something— or rather, someone— else entirely.

The qualities she was describing weren’t just about a fictional character; they mirrored those of her boyfriend, Jeonghan, with startling accuracy. He, too, had that sly, playful nature, that effortless confidence that both infuriated and charmed everyone around him.

Youngji, perhaps too tipsy to pick up on the underlying hints, nodded along, her chin resting on her hand as she gazed at Luna with fascination. “You’re really passionate about this,” she slurred, blinking slowly. “I get it, though. Mischievous guys… they keep things exciting, huh?”

Luna laughed softly, her cheeks slightly flushed from both the alcohol and the direction of the conversation. “Yeah, they do,” she admitted, a knowing glint in her eye. “It’s fun. You never quite know what’s coming, but it’s always worth it in the end.”

Youngji slapped her hand on the table suddenly, making Luna jump a little. “I knew it!” she declared, pointing at Luna dramatically. “You do have a type! Mischievous, funny, smart— Loki-type!” She was laughing now, clearly enjoying her discovery, even though she wasn’t aware of just how on-the-nose her comment really was.

Luna, unable to hold back her laughter, nodded in playful surrender. “Okay, maybe I do,” she said, her voice light, though there was a warmth behind it that hinted at something deeper— something personal.

Youngji, still clearly invested in Luna’s rant about Loki, tilted her head in thought, a playful glint in her eye. “Wait, so… do you like guys with long hair too? You know, since Loki’s rocking that,” she asked, her voice teasing as her words slurred slightly. She wiggled her fingers dramatically in the air, mimicking Loki’s flowing locks as if she’d stumbled onto another part of Luna’s type.

Luna, catching on to where Youngji was going with this, chuckled and shook her head, but there was a playful gleam in her eyes. “I don’t really have a preference when it comes to looks,” she replied thoughtfully, her words slower as if she was choosing them carefully, though the slight smile on her lips suggested otherwise. “Long hair, short hair— it doesn’t really matter to me.”

There was a brief pause as Luna took another bite of her food, but then she added, “But… if he can pull off both, then that’s even better.” She let out a quiet laugh, raising an eyebrow as if she were sharing a secret. “Though, I might be biased toward long hair. Just a little.”

Youngji’s eyes widened dramatically, and she shot up from her seat, clapping loudly as if she had just uncovered the greatest revelation. “Aha! I knew it!” she slurred, pointing at Luna as if she had caught her red-handed. “You say you don’t have a type, but you do! Mischievous, smart guys with long hair!” Her voice was loud and excited, the alcohol clearly making her voice louder than she intended.

Luna threw herself back in her chair, laughing uncontrollably at Youngji’s dramatic outburst. “What are you talking about?” she managed to say between fits of laughter, waving her hands as if to defend herself. “I never said that!”

But Youngji wasn’t having it.

“Ya! Luna you can’t fool me,” Youngji slurred then she turned toward the camera, still pointing at Luna with a wobbly finger. “You heard it here first, everyone!” she announced, her words slurring even more. “Luna likes mischievous, intelligent guys who can rock both short and long hair… but especially long!”

Luna, still cackling in the background, waved her hands in surrender. “I didn’t say that!” she protested, though her laughter betrayed her.

It was obvious to both of them and probably everyone watching, that she wasn’t exactly disagreeing with the assessment.

Youngji, proud of her deduction, grinned ear to ear and sat back down, clearly satisfied with herself. “I knew it,” she repeated, nodding sagely as if she had just solved a mystery.

Just as Youngji settled back, still grinning from her triumphant deduction, Luna’s phone dinged from its place in the glass, the sound echoing in the small room. The noise caught their attention immediately, both sets of eyes snapping toward the device as if fate itself had decided to weigh in on the conversation.

Luna’s phone screen lit up, casting a soft glow through the glass. Only she and Youngji could see the notification, and as Luna lifted her phone slightly to check, she froze for a second.

The screen displayed a single message— from Jeonghan. And there, beneath his name, was the very same Jeonghan’s face grinning lazily back at them, clear as day on her wallpaper.

Youngji’s tipsy eyes widened at the sight, and though her speech was still slurred from the alcohol, her voice carried a teasing lilt as she blurted, “See? I knew it.”

Luna burst into laughter, throwing herself against Youngji’s shoulder as if to beg her to stop from being too obvious, her whole body shaking with mirth. But the playful exchange only fueled Youngji more. She raised her hands in mock innocence, trying to cover for Luna in the most transparent way possible.

“I knew it!” Youngji repeated, but then quickly amended herself, glancing mischievously around the room. “I mean, come on, one of your members was bound to check in on you at some point, right?” She added a little wink, though her teasing tone couldn’t have been more blatant.

Luna, still caught in a fit of giggles, sat up a bit, trying to compose herself. She could only shake her head as she looked down at the message, her cheeks flushed both from laughter and the alcohol.

The moment was filled with shared glances and inside jokes, one of those times when words weren’t necessary to convey understanding. Even though Luna and Jeonghan’s relationship was a secret from the public, Youngji’s playful cover was enough to keep things lighthearted, avoiding too much attention while still teasing Luna about the not-so-hidden truth.

Youngji, still half-smirking, decided to play innocent as she leaned in closer, feigning curiosity. “So… who texted you?” she asked, dragging out the question as if she hadn’t seen the name flash across the screen just moments before.

Luna was still recovering from her laughing fit, her entire body shaking as she clutched her stomach with one hand, the other wiping away the tears that had pooled in her eyes. Every time she tried to speak, another wave of giggles overtook her, leaving her gasping for air. The crew watched on with amusement, chuckling softly as they witnessed Luna’s complete surrender to the hilarity of the situation.

Youngji, however, put on her best serious face, her brow furrowing in exaggerated concern. “Luna are you okay?” she asked, her tone mockingly stern. She leaned forward slightly, her eyes widening as she studied Luna’s uncontrollable laughter. “You won’t stop laughing… I think you need to go home.”

The crew erupted into laughter at Youngji’s deadpan delivery, but Luna, still giggling, managed to shake her head, clutching her tummy as if trying to rein herself in. “I don’t want to go home!” she protested, taking a deep breath to calm down.

After a brief pause, she finally managed to answer Youngji’s earlier question, wiping the last of her tears from her eyes. “It’s Jeonghannie oppa,” she said, her voice still a little breathless from laughing so hard.

Youngji raised an eyebrow, her playful expression returning. “He knows you’re here filming, right?” she teased, still pretending to be oblivious. Then, with a mischievous grin, she added, “Do you want to share with the class what he said, or not?”

Luna, now calmer, picked up her phone from the glass. She opened the message and quickly scanned it before reading aloud, her tone light and casual. “He said, ‘Call me when you’re done and on the way here.’” She locked her phone again and set it aside, still smiling.

Youngji, slurring slightly from the alcohol, leaned in with mock curiosity. “Where are you going after this?” she asked, her head tilting slightly as if trying to unravel some great mystery.

Luna chuckled at her exaggerated tone. “I have practice after this,” she explained, still amused by Youngji’s playful interrogation. The casual exchange, despite its lightheartedness, held the warmth of friendship, each teasing comment laced with genuine affection.

Youngji suddenly perked up, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark. “I have an idea!” she exclaimed, a little louder than she intended, which made Luna jump slightly in her seat. “Text Jeonghan-ssi. Let’s prank him.”

Luna, clearly enjoying where this was headed, giggled in anticipation, her fingers already moving toward her phone. “What should I say?” she asked, the excitement in her voice palpable as she unlocked her phone. The atmosphere felt lighter now, the earlier tension of the drinks and deeper conversation melting into a more playful vibe.

“Tell him,” Youngji leaned closer as if they were conspiring, “that you can’t do this anymore.”

Luna’s eyes widened before she broke into another fit of laughter, covering her mouth as if trying to stifle it. “He’s not going to fall for that,” she said, though her hands were already typing out the exact message Youngji had suggested:

‘I can’t do this anymore.’

As she pressed send, Luna glanced at Youngji and said with a smirk, “Hannie oppa is too sharp for this. He won’t be easily fooled, h–”

But her playful assurance was cut short when, mid-sentence, the familiar ringtone of her phone echoed in the room, cutting through the conversation like a hot knife.

The room went still for a moment.

The crew gasped, some even giggling at the sudden shift, while Youngji, now fully invested in the chaos she’d started, shot up in her seat. “Oh my god! Girl, answer the phone!” she gasped, her eyes wild with amusement, leaning even closer toward Luna.

Luna blinked at her phone in disbelief, the name ‘my angel boy🪽’ lighting up her screen, the ringtone growing louder in the otherwise silent space. She looked at Youngji with wide eyes, her voice now a whisper, “What should I say?”

There was a tiny hint of panic behind her words, her excitement starting to mix with nervous energy.

Youngji, half-slurring, was all for the drama. “Tell him…” she paused for effect, her words dripping with amusement, “…tell him you couldn’t do this anymore because I was asking you weird questions!”

Luna hesitated, biting her lip in mild panic. “Youngji… you’re really… crazy,” she muttered, but before she could back out, she quickly hit the answer button, her voice coming out steadier than she felt.

Luna placed her phone on speaker, her fingers trembling slightly from the mixture of excitement and nerves. Before she could even get a word out, Jeonghan’s deep, yet soft voice filled the room, echoing through the small space.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, his tone gentle but with a hint of concern.

Luna, knowing Jeonghan so well after all these years, immediately understood the shift.

His voice was usually so bright and sing-song, always answering the phone with an upbeat tone that instantly lifted her spirits. But now, his seriousness threw her off, and she winced, shooting Youngji and the crew a pained look.

Youngji, though, was undeterred, grinning like the devil on her shoulder and silently urging her to keep going.

“O-oppa…” Luna started, trying her best to sound sad, though her voice trembled with the urge to burst into laughter.

Jeonghan hummed on the other end of the line, a soft noise that nudged her to continue.

“I just finished the interview,” she added, her tone still shaky.

Another hum from Jeonghan, quiet and calm.

“She was asking weird questions,” Luna said, attempting a sad sigh but immediately covering her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

There was a beat of silence from Jeonghan’s side.

The kind of silence that made everyone in the room freeze for a moment.

Luna could feel the intensity of it, like he was trying to process her words while keeping his composure.

Then, finally, his voice came through again, still soft but now with an underlying sharpness that made both Luna and Youngji cringe.

“What questions?” he asked, his voice careful, as though he was trying not to jump to conclusions too quickly, but the edge was unmistakable.

Youngji, who had been grinning from ear to ear, suddenly stood up from her seat, backing herself playfully against the wall as if trying to escape Jeonghan’s indirect scolding.

Luna, on the other hand, was struggling, tears forming in her eyes as she stretched her arm out, holding the phone away from her mouth in a desperate attempt to hold back her laughter.

“Jiyeon-ah,” Jeonghan’s voice came again, firmer this time. “What questions?”

Luna smiled through the fear knowing how rare Jeonghan called her by her real name, but she stopped herself just before answering, her acting skills being tested more than ever. She sighed dramatically, leaning into the role. “Just…”

Before she could even finish, Jeonghan’s voice cut her off, his words making Luna cringe hard.

“Do you want me to tell Seungcheol?” he asked, the mention of their leader’s name hitting like a warning shot.

Luna’s entire body tensed at that.

She knew Seungcheol, would absolutely flip if he thought Luna was upset about something serious.

Youngji, still up against the wall, shook her head frantically at Luna, playfully waving goodbye at the camera as if she was terrified of the situation she’d created. Luna gestured for her to come back, laughing even as she tried to keep up the charade.

“No!” Luna quickly blurted out, cringing at the thought of Seungcheol getting involved. “No, I’m on the way back anyway— I’ll talk to Coupsie.”

There was another long pause.

Luna could practically hear Jeonghan processing her words.

Then, finally, his voice echoed through the phone again, calmer, but still holding that careful tone.

“You’re on the way back?” he asked.

“Yes, I just finished,” Luna answered, keeping her voice steady, though she could feel the tension building.

Another pause.

“You finished the interview and you’re on your way back?” Jeonghan repeated as if summarizing everything she’d said.

Luna blinked, her smile twitching. “Yes, why?”

There was a longer silence this time.

Everyone in the room was holding their breath, waiting for his next words.

Then, in a tone that was now playfully amused, Jeonghan finally spoke again.

“Out of all the people you could prank, you decided to prank me?”

Luna burst out laughing, the tension finally breaking as the entire room seemed to release a collective gasp.

Youngji was staring at her in disbelief, her mouth slightly open as she looked around at the crew. “How did he find out?” she asked, more to herself than anyone else.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Luna giggled, covering her face with her hands as she tried to apologize. “Youngji made me do it!”

From the phone, Jeonghan simply went, “Ah.” His voice, now fully relaxed, was teasingly amused.

Youngji, still shocked, stuttered shyly, “J-Jeonghan-ssi, hello.”

“Oh, hello, Youngji-ssi,” Jeonghan replied smoothly, his voice as polite and soft as ever.

Luna, still laughing, finally asked the question on everyone’s mind. “How did you know I was joking?”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, then explained, “I didn’t know at first. But when you said you finished the interview, something felt off.” He paused, then continued, “You’re the type of person who would just end the interview yourself if you were uncomfortable or disrespected by the questions. You wouldn’t wait to finish.”

Luna smiled, understanding exactly what he meant.

She had always been one to speak her mind and walk away from anything she wasn’t comfortable with.

“And,” Jeonghan added, his voice even more teasing now, “I could hear you smiling while you spoke.”

Luna shook her head, chuckling again. “I told you he wouldn’t fall for it,” she said, turning to Youngji, who just sat there, still in disbelief at how quickly Jeonghan had caught on.

Youngji slumped back into her seat, still stunned, as Luna’s laughter echoed in the room.

Luna, her laughter finally dying down, looked at her phone and said, “Well, since you’re here, oppa, you should say hi to everyone!” She grinned, turning her phone slightly toward the camera, giving Jeonghan a moment to address the viewers.

On cue, Jeonghan’s deep but soothing voice echoed through the room again, still as smooth and soft as ever. “Hello, everyone,” he greeted, his tone polite but with a touch of playful charm. “I hope you’re all doing well. Please continue to take care of Luna while she’s with you today.”

The staff, who had been quietly watching the whole thing unfold, burst into a chorus of hellos and some gave friendly waves toward the phone as if Jeonghan could see them.

Before he could say anything more, Luna, clearly not wanting to give him another second of control over the conversation, interrupted him with a sudden outburst. “Han! It’s so much fun here with Youngji!” she began, her voice rising with excitement, “You should be here too!”

Jeonghan let out a low chuckle on the other end, but before he could respond, Youngji leaned into the frame with a wide grin. “He really should come next time! We’ll do a special episode— Luna and Jeonghan together!”

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind,” Jeonghan replied, his voice smooth but with a hint of amusement.

Luna straightened in her seat, her enthusiasm bubbling over. “No, really! You’d love it! Youngji keeps making me laugh, and we’ve been talking about everything— drinks, games, she even made me dance!” She started listing everything off with the same excitement, her voice taking on a childlike tone as she gushed. “And the crew here is so nice! We’ve been playing games, and Youngji asked me so many fun questions— she’s so funny!”

Jeonghan hummed softly in response, the sound was warm and full of affection. “Mm, that sounds like a lot of fun,” he cooed in his signature lazy drawl. “I’m glad you’re having a good time, Nana-ya.”

Luna, encouraged by his response, continued to ramble on, her words spilling out faster now. “And—and you should’ve seen when we started— Youngji made me drink gin and she gave me a lot of food, and we even—” She paused, catching herself, then giggled, clearly realizing she was talking a mile a minute.

Youngji, who had been watching with amusement, leaned toward the camera and whispered to the crew, “This is the most Luna’s spoken today.” The crew chuckled along, nodding in agreement.

Jeonghan, ever the doting boyfriend, was patient and gentle, humming softly every now and then to let her know he was listening. “Ah, really?” he said, his voice carrying that familiar, affectionate tone he used with her. “Sounds like you’re having a blast, hmm?”

Luna, her face glowing with excitement, nodded eagerly, even though he couldn’t see her. “I am! I wish you were here! It’s so much fun! And Youngji said next time you can come, and maybe we’ll—”

Jeonghan let out a small, amused laugh, cutting her off gently, “You drank a lot, huh?”

Luna immediately pouted, shaking her head even though Jeonghan couldn’t see her expression. “No, I didn’t! I didn’t drink that much! Only a little…”

Jeonghan chuckled again, this time more indulgently, his tone almost teasing. “Mm, alright. You just spoke a thousand words in one breath, Nana-ya. I think you definitely drank more than a little.”

Luna gasped, mock offended, before laughing again, unable to keep up the act. Youngji and the crew, meanwhile, were in stitches, watching the entire exchange unfold like something out of a rom-com.

Youngji, still giggling, waved toward the camera again. “Jeonghan-ssi, I promise we didn’t force her to drink that much!”

“Oh, I believe you,” Jeonghan replied smoothly, his voice still light with humor. “But Jiyeonie’s not exactly the best at hiding when she’s had a few, is she?”

Luna pouted once more, slumping in her seat. “Oppa!” she whined softly, her tone almost playful as she drew out the syllables.

Jeonghan hummed again, his voice turning soft and doting once more. “It’s okay, I’m just teasing you,” he cooed, that familiar sing-song lilt back in his voice. “I’m glad you’re having fun, really.”

Luna smiled, her heart fluttering at the sound of his voice. No matter how often he teased her, she knew it was always out of love.

Youngji, catching her soft expression, leaned toward the camera with a knowing grin. “See? This is why I said you should prank him. Look how sweet he is.”

Luna nodded, biting her lip to keep from giggling again. She knew Jeonghan wouldn’t stay mad for long, especially when he could tell she was having a good time.

Luna smiled as the laughter in the room finally died down, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her phone. “Okay, Hannie, I’m gonna go now,” she said softly, her voice still carrying traces of the playful energy from moments before.

Jeonghan hummed on the other end, his tone gentle and affectionate. “Mm, okay. Take care, See you later, Jiyeonie.”

Luna’s heart swelled at the warmth in his voice. “You too, oppa. Practice well, okay?”

“I will. I’ll see you soon,” he replied, his voice a low murmur, almost like a promise.

With a soft smile, Luna nodded to herself. “Bye-bye.”

“Bye, Nana-ya.”

She ended the call, placing the phone gently on the table, but before she could even relax into her seat, her phone lit up again.

A notification popped up at the top of the screen— a text from Jeonghan: ‘Drink water and eat more.’

Luna chuckled, already feeling the warmth of his concern, but before she could even react, Youngji jumped up from her seat, immediately fussing over her. “Aigoo, see! You better listen to him!” she slurred, her movements exaggerated as she grabbed the nearby pitcher of water and began pouring it into Luna’s glass. “You need to eat more too!” she added, piling more food onto Luna’s plate, her eyes wide as if the message from Jeonghan had ignited some maternal instinct in her.

Luna giggled, watching Youngji in amusement as she responded to Jeonghan’s message with a quick, ‘Yes, I’ll eat. Don’t worry 🤍’

Then, she obediently picked up her fork and took a bite of the food, earning a satisfied nod from Youngji, who had taken on the role of Luna’s makeshift caretaker.

Youngji, a bit tipsy and swaying slightly, leaned closer, her words slightly slurred but full of sincerity. “You’re so lucky… He’s really worried about you, huh?”

Luna smiled as she chewed, swallowing before replying. “Well… it’s not just him. The members, especially Jeonghannie and Coupsie oppa, always make sure I’m okay when we’re drinking— especially today.”

Youngji raised a curious eyebrow at that, her tipsy brain trying to keep up with Luna’s words. “Why? What happened?”

Luna let out a soft laugh, realizing Youngji might not remember the story. “It’s because they don’t want another Hoshi incident.”

Youngji blinked, clearly confused. “Hoshi incident?”

Luna nodded, already knowing the moment she mentioned it, the memory would click. “You know, when Hoshi-oppa was here, he got really drunk, right? Well, that same day, we had practice. So, Hoshi showed up to the practice room completely wasted but was still trying to practice like it was nothing.”

Youngji’s mouth fell open in disbelief, and she let out a surprised laugh. “No way!”

Luna grinned, nodding. “Yep. And Jeonghannie oppa filmed the whole thing! There’s a video of drunk Hoshi oppa still trying to do the choreo.” Luna tilted her head and asked, “Did you see the video?”

Youngji’s eyes widened in sudden realization, and she nodded vigorously. “Ohhh! I remember now! I saw that video! Poor guy — I felt so bad but he looked cool, he can dance better drunk than I do sober!”

Luna laughed at Youngji’s dramatic retelling, but before she could say anything else, Youngji waved her hand in front of her, acting like a strict mother. “See, this is why you should go home now,” she said, her voice half-serious, half-teasing, as if she was trying to play both roles of the concerned friend and the playful show host.

Luna couldn’t help but laugh at her antics, the warmth of the moment filling her chest. The combination of Youngji’s tipsy fussing and Jeonghan’s constant concern made her feel wrapped in a bubble of affection— a place where she was cared for in every little way.

With a playful sigh, Luna shook her head. “I don’t want to leave. I’ll eat, I promise.”

“Go home, Luna,” Youngji groaned dramatically, her voice dripping with exaggerated exhaustion, making Luna giggle. The crew burst into laughter at the ongoing playful banter between the two of them, while Luna took another bite of food, ignoring the command.

Luna, cheeks flushed from the alcohol, pouted cutely. “But I don’t want to go!” she whined, her voice slurred slightly as she waved her chopsticks in the air. “I’m having so much fun!”

Youngji, not one to back down, leaned forward and pointed at Luna with mock sternness. “You still have dance practice, Jiyeon-ah! Your members will get mad at me if I let you drink more.”

Luna’s pout deepened as she huffed, rolling her eyes. “They won’t get mad. I’ll just… be a little late,” she slurred, her words drawing out lazily as she reached for more food.

Youngji smirked, shaking her head. “A little late? Girl, do you want me to get in trouble with SEVENTEEN?” She pointed a finger at herself before adding with a mock-terrified look, “That’s two out of fourteen members showing up drunk at their dance practice because of me. S.Coups-ssi might hunt me down.”

The crew burst into laughter again, and Luna, in her slightly tipsy state, let out a high-pitched giggle. “Coupsie oppa would never!” she laughed, covering her mouth with her hand, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Oh, wouldn’t he?” Youngji teased, her face pulling into a playful grimace as she imitated Seungcheol’s authoritative tone. “I can already hear him— ‘Youngji-ssi, what did you do to Luna?!’”

Luna burst out laughing, swaying slightly as she covered her face with her hands. “Stop, stop!” she giggled, cheeks turning even redder. “He’s not like that… Well, not all the time.”

Youngji shook her head knowingly. “Yeah, right. He’s the leader for a reason. Do you really think he’s going to let this slide?” She crossed her arms, giving Luna a playful yet stern look.

Luna slumped in her seat, her pout returning. “I don’t want to go back,” she mumbled under her breath, acting like a child avoiding bedtime. “It’s too much fun here.”

Youngji let out a deep, exaggerated sigh, shaking her head as if defeated. “Aigoo, this girl,” she muttered. “Your members are going to come for me, I just know it.”

Luna giggled softly after finishing her last bite, wiping her lips with the napkin. She looked at Youngji with a small smile, almost sheepishly. “Alright, alright, I’ll go,” she said with a laugh, realizing that, if she didn’t leave soon, she’d be late for practice for sure.

One of the crew members approached Luna with a grin, holding out a marker and a blank piece of paper. “Luna, can you sign this for us? It’s for the wall— we have all of Youngji’s guests sign it.”

Luna beamed, taking the marker and paper eagerly. “Of course!” She placed the paper on the table, leaning over as she started writing her message. She spoke out loud as she scrawled her words in neat, bold handwriting. “Youngji, you’re the best… from your best friend Luna.”

Youngji, watching over her shoulder, cackled at the message. “Your best friend, huh? I’ve officially been promoted. I’ll take it!”

Luna chuckled, finishing her signature with a small flourish. She handed the paper to Youngji, who took it with a grin. “Aww, look at that!” Youngji teased, waving the paper for the camera. “Everyone, look! Luna thinks I’m the best.”

Luna laughed again, watching as Youngji stood up from her seat, making her way to the wall of signatures. She carefully stuck Luna’s paper up alongside the others, smoothing it out to make sure it was centered. “There you go, you’re officially a part of the wall now,” Youngji said, taking a step back to admire the wall.

“We should take a picture to commemorate this,” Youngji added, turning toward Luna with a playful grin.

Luna nodded, feeling a bit lighter from the drinks but still excited. “Yes, let’s do it.”

One of the staff members quickly grabbed a phone, and Luna and Youngji struck a pose, arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders. Youngji held up a peace sign, while Luna tilted her head to rest against Youngji’s with a bright, tipsy smile. The camera clicked, capturing the moment, and the staff clapped in appreciation of the scene.

As they pulled away from the photo, Luna turned to Youngji with a soft smile. “I had so much fun today,” she said sincerely, her eyes crinkling in the corners.

Youngji grinned, her tone just as warm. “Me too. We should do this again sometime. Maybe next time, I’ll drink more and you can take care of me.”

Luna laughed, nodding. “Deal! I’m looking forward to it.”

With that, they shared a tight hug, Youngji squeezing Luna with a fond chuckle. Luna pulled back slightly, her expression playful as she planted a quick kiss on Youngji’s cheek. “Thank you for having me,” Luna said, bowing her head in gratitude.

Youngji deadpanned, touching her cheek dramatically. “You better go before I steal you from your members and keep you to myself,” she joked, making the staff and crew burst out laughing.

Luna laughed along, turning towards the door, waving and bowing at the crew. “Thank you, everyone! Bye-bye!” she called out, flashing a smile to the camera before making her way out.

The door closed behind her softly, leaving the room filled with the lingering energy of her presence.

In the last moments, the staff and Youngji exchanged looks, a warm laughter spreading around the room. “That was amazing,” Youngji mused, shaking her head with an affectionate smile.

The camera panned out, capturing the wall of signatures as it faded to black, Luna’s note standing proudly among the others, a lasting memory of her fun and lively presence.

comments…

@/lunababybae • 2 years ago ╰ their chemistry is perfect! I would love to see more of these two together 😂

@/rinarieee • 2 years ago ╰ Jiyeon came in so quiet and composed and then left a loud, giggling mess.

@/gyusshadow • 2 years ago ╰ I gotta hand it to Luna she can drink 🤭

@/moonbae17 • 2 years ago ╰ Youngji calling Luna her girl crush at 19:30 is an actual mood.

@/saythename • 2 years ago ╰ Luna’s deadpan humor is so fucking attractive for some reason 🫠

@/mad-lineeee • 2 years ago ╰ she’s a princess fr fr 💖

@/mrsbaebae • 2 years ago ╰ Luna is so sweet to gift Youngji that set and from Paris too 🤌💋

@/alyy1625 • 2 years ago ╰ Only Bae Jiyeon would not like the taste of beer but would down gin like that with a straight face

@/jeongnanana • 2 years ago ╰ Luna explaining that she just has resting bitch face and that she’s not actually scary is so funny to me cause same 🤣

@/gyuuuuudaily• 2 years ago. ╰ GOD I JUST LOVE HER BRITISH ACCENT SO MUCH 😫 ITS LIKE BUTTER.

@/sallluuuteee17 • 2 years ago ╰ 15:16 “Honestly, I don’t know what I would do without them. Sometimes I think about it, you know? In another universe, maybe I didn’t audition, or maybe I didn’t end up in the final lineup… but I still feel like, somehow, I would have found my way to them. Even if it was just as a fan.” Brb I’ll just dry my eyes 🥹

@/lulu-nana17• 2 years ago ╰ 16:30 Luna’s face when Youngji lost the game at the first try 😂

@/gyugyugyugyu_ • 2 years ago ╰ Luna saying she mostly has crushes on fictional characters is such a mood cause same

@/sebongrighthere • 2 years ago ╰ THANK YOU LEE YOUNGJI FOR ASKING LUNA TO DANCE HOT!! IT WAS INDEED HOT 🥵

@/user836837373863 • 2 years ago ╰ “But… if he can pull off both, then that’s even better.” WHO ARE YOU FOOLING, MISS THING?! WE KNOW DAMN WELL WHO YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT!!

@/missbitchhhh • 2 years ago ╰ Jiyeon geeking out about Loki is adorable!!

@/shadowmyshadow• 2 years ago ╰ 20:55 is she even still talking about Loki at this point? Because I swear it’s sound like she’s talking about someone else entirely… iykyk 😝

@/angel7266 • 2 years ago ╰ “He’s got this dry sense of humor that makes you laugh even when you don’t expect it. And the way he’s confident, but not in an obnoxious way. It’s more subtle, like he knows he’s smart and capable, but he doesn’t need to prove it all the time.” ONLY ONE PERSON POPPED IN MY HEAD WHEN SHE SAID THIS AND HIS NAME RHYMES WITH BOON BEONGHAN 😊

@/hannnieeeee7251 • 2 years ago ╰ TELL ME I AM INSANE!? SHE WAS LITERALLY DESCRIBING JEONGHAN THE ENTIRE TIME SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT LOKI!? THE CHARM, THE WIT, THE HUMOR, THE BRAIN, THE MISCHIEVOUSNESS, THE LONG FUCKING HAIR?! EXCUSE ME?!

@/user763816262 • 2 years ago ╰ Jeonghan’s voice during that call 😫

@/ashonashonash_ • 2 years ago ╰ 25:55 Jiyeon got scared when Jeonghan sounded serious for a second.

@/jijijiyeonienie • 2 years ago ╰ Hannie clocking Luna’s prank so fast. He knows her from the inside out fr.

@/kpopfan17 • 2 years ago ╰ who would have thought i would get to see Luna gushing about Yoon Jeonghan *ahem* I mean Loki for a solid minute and a half 😉

@/belleeeee_ • 2 years ago ╰ Youngji knows something we don’t cause look at her reaction when Jeonghan texted 🤭

@/diamondlifeu • 1 year ago ╰ YOON JEONGHAN THE MAN THAT YOU ARE 🥺

@/gyuminggooo • 1 year ago ╰ Hannie called Luna real quick… so quick that I had a fucking whiplash.

@/dailynanana • 1 year ago ╰ She texted him “I can’t do this anymore” I bet Jeonghan was scared shitless.

@/chuuuuchhuu17 • 1 year ago ╰ Jeonghan is so patient with Luna, the way he listened and waited for her to finish her rant was so endearing to see 🥹

@/lalunanova • 1 year ago ╰ “what are you talking about?” Daddy?! 🥵

@/17-carat • 3 weeks ago ╰ 26:22 Youngji backing up the second she heard Jeonghan’s serious voice and at the mention of Cheol 🤣

@/myg145 • 2 weeks ago ╰ Drunk dancing Hoshi really got these guys stressing for Luna’s turn in this show 😂

@/bjy_lover • 1 week ago ╰ I need a man like Yoon Jeonghan. He is the standard! Like, that entire conversation was so cute 🥺💖

[My Alcohol Diary 2.0 — The Aftermath]

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[punkshort]

Hi again !! I wanted to know if one day you could write a one-shot based off of this prompt:

“But I wanted to do that with you! You could have asked me!"

I tried to do something with this myself but failed miserably 😭

This is my current oldest request, apologies for taking so long to get through these. Okay here goes nothing:

Five Senses

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You catch Joel sneaking off to do something in the middle of the night and curiosity gets the best of you.

Warnings: language, m!masturbation, smut (18+ MDNI), some descriptions of violence and gore, angst, yearning

WC: idk I wrote it on my phone - maybe 2K?

The fire was out by the time you woke. Was it time for your turn on watch? It had to have been. So why didn't Joel wake you?

Slowly, you rolled onto your back and looked around, your eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness surrounding you. The woods were quiet. Not a single twig snapped, no leaves rustled nor bird sang. Even the wind was still. The loudest thing was your heavy breathing and your heart beating in your ears.

Where was he?

Panic gripped you then. Did something happen? He never strayed too far out, especially when the weather was fair. It brought out infected, easily the biggest downfall of living in the wilderness during summer.

"Joel?" you whispered into the dark abyss, sitting up in your sleeping bag in the process. You strained your ears, flared your nostrils, using all your available senses when sight was questionable, just like he taught you that first week after you ran into each other. It was years ago, now, but you remembered it like it was yesterday.

He saved you. He didn't know who you were, he didn't have to answer your screams of terror, but he did. Just when your arms were growing weak from holding the infected above you, it's snapping jaw so close you had to push back into the dirt to keep it from grazing you, there was a loud explosion. Then you were covered in wet, dead brains and pieces of bone, but you were alive.

He hauled the carcass off you and you furiously began to wipe the carnage from your face, worried it would still somehow get into your bloodstream.

"Here," he had said, handing you a used blue washcloth. You snatched it and whispered your gratitude, wiping off your face more throughly so you could stand and get a good look at your savior.

At the time, you chalked it up to adrenaline, but you felt like you fell in love the moment you first locked eyes. Those deep, beautiful brown eyes that could look right through you, that gazed at you with so much concern when he patched you up after scuffles with raiders, that glared at you when you fucked up and almost gave away your position, that squinted when he laughed at something you said over the fire.

It took a few weeks, maybe a month, but you eventually determined adrenaline wasn't to blame. You were hopelessly in love with Joel Miller, and you never once had the courage to tell him. Never once tried to kiss him, tried to do anything except stare at him when his back was turned, allowing your eyes to greedily take in his broad shoulders and thick, curly, tuggable hair.

He never looked at you like that. God, you wished he would, but he was far too focused. His only concern was survival. Sometimes you wondered how he was able to function properly on so little sleep. Sleep was his only luxury, and he rarely allowed himself to relish in it. It didn't matter how many times you told him you could keep watch the whole night, or on the rare occasions he found you a cabin or shed, he refused to let his guard down.

So where was he now?

Slowly, you stood, your right hand brushing against your handgun which was tucked into your leg holster. You took a steadying breath, trying to quiet yourself so you could listen to your surroundings. Pay attention, stay alert, step lightly.

That was when you first heard it. Panting, or gasping, somewhere to your right. Oh, god, what if he was hurt? What if something happened and you were sleeping, leaving him to bleed out, or worse?

You pulled out your gun and gripped it with both hands, aiming it at the ground as you quickly made your way towards the noise, your heart slamming against your ribs, fear squeezing your throat, but you stayed focused. You had to. For him.

But as you got closer, when it sounded like he was just on the other side of a thick tree trunk, you realized you were very wrong. Your feet became rooted to the ground as you listened to the unmistakable sound of skin against skin, of fabric rustling rhythmically together, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You felt your cunt throb when you heard his soft groans and you knew you should have left, you should have given him privacy, but you didn't. You couldn't. You ached for him for so long and not one time had you ever seen this side to him. He never so much as flirted with you, even just innocently, so you weren't willing to let this moment pass you by.

The clouds finally parted and the moon shined down, trickling through the thick forest. Opening your eyes, you could now see his shadow reflecting on the forest floor. You could see how fast his fist worked himself over, you could hear how eager he was for release, you could practically smell his sweat from where you were standing.

But then something happened.

He groaned again, but that time he groaned your name.

You were certain of it, unless you were in a dream and your mind was playing tricks on you.

He groaned your name.

Before common decency had a chance to catch up, you spoke, interrupting him.

"Joel?"

The sounds ceased. It was deathly quiet, and you feared you made a huge mistake. What were you thinking?

He said your name again, but it was a question. No breathy moans slipped from his mouth this time.

"What's wrong?"

He came around the tree appearing put together, and if it weren't for the flush in his cheeks and the tightness of his jeans, you might have convinced yourself it was all a mirage.

"Nothing. W-what are you doing?"

His eyes flickered around in shame, looking everywhere but at you.

"What did you hear?" he finally asked softly.

"I heard enough."

He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

"Listen-" he began, but you cut him off.

"I wanted to do that with you. You could have asked me."

His eyes popped back open in shock and it felt like time stood still. Oh, fucking hell, what were you doing?!

"What?"

Well, there was no going back now. You reholstered your gun and took a tentative step forward.

"You said my name," you told him, voice barely above a whisper. You could see him swallow as you inched closer.

"I did."

"Were you thinking... of me?" you squeaked. Slowly, he nodded, and that time if he felt any shame, he didn't show it. "I think about you, too," you confessed, taking another step closer.

"You do?"

You nodded, biting your lower lip nervously as you continued to advance. "All the time."

"Fuck," he groaned, then quickly closed the remaining distance between you. He grabbed your face with both hands, cupping your jaw, and smashed his mouth hungrily against yours.

When he swiped his tongue across your lower lip, you could have melted into the ground right then and there. Was this really happening?

His tongue slid past your lips, exploring your mouth with his jaw pried open as if he were trying to swallow you whole. And you would let him, if that's what he wanted. You trusted him with your life, you craved his touch, dreamt about the taste of his lips, and fantasized about what he would do to quell the constant ache between your legs.

Joel walked you backwards, back towards camp. Your eyes were closed and you refused to remove yourself from his mouth, so you relied on your ears and feet to guide you through sound and touch, but you knew it didn't matter. Joel had you, and he never let anything bad happen. He wouldn't allow it.

He eased you down onto his sleeping bag before he finally broke the kiss, both your chests heaving from the effort to drag in much needed air as you each worked on removing your clothes as quickly as possible. You knew Joel so well by now that he wouldn't want you to be too exposed, just in case, so you only focused on your lower half, and he did the same.

"Are you sure?" he asked when he was kneeling between your legs, poised to enter you. You spread your legs wider and nodded. You wanted to tell him you'd been waiting for so long, that you couldn't stand another second without him, but when you felt that delicious sting between your legs when he first pressed forward, your mind went blank.

"So tight," he gritted out, fingers digging mercilessly into your hips, no doubt leaving circular bruises you would cherish for days.

You cried out his name when he finally fully sheathed himself inside you, only to have him clamp his palm over your mouth.

"Gotta be quiet," he reminded you, but his voice was tender and his breath was ragged and you had a feeling his warning was for you both.

When you nodded, he slid his hand away and groaned quietly as he shifted his weight slightly on top of you before slowly pulling almost all the way out. His eyes flicked up to meet yours so he could watch your face contort when he slammed back in, something animalistic coming alive inside him at the way your back arched and your jaw hung open, a silent scream on your lips every time he rolled his hips and stretched you open, molding you to him.

Your senses came alive as he fucked steadily into you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with every forceful thrust. Every grunt sounded like a melody, every greedy stroke of his fingers left a firey trail. When he could tell you were both getting close, his mouth crashed over yours again and you tasted the metallic flavor of his blood from where he had bit down too hard on his lip.

"I'm gonna find someplace for us," he whispered, voice trembling from the way your walls squeezed around him. "Someplace we can live. Someplace safe."

You nodded your head deliriously, too focused on the steady rise of your orgasm, your stomach tensing each time his cock brushed up against one particular spot that made it difficult to breathe.

"Then you can be as loud as you want," he continued, mouth dipping to bite and suck on your neck. Your fingers twisted in the fabric of his flannel, the worn material begging to be torn under your grip. "Just me and you. I'll take care of you. Won't let anythin' bad happen."

You nodded again, tears pricking your eyes.

"Would you like that?" he asked, his words muffled by your skin as he continued to lick and kiss and suck on the column of your throat, leaving more marks to serve as a reminder that night happened, that what you had was real.

"Yes," you moaned, "oh, god, yes, Joel, it's all I've ever wanted."

You thought you heard him whimper but then his hips began to snap roughly against you, sending shockwaves through your body with each devastating stroke.

"Joel, I think I'm gonna-" you gasped and cut yourself off, your vision blurring for a moment before his hand pressed firmly over your mouth once again, capturing your cries while your body tensed and slowly began to relax underneath him. Not until your eyes reopened did he remove his hand to be replaced with his mouth. You bent your legs so your knees were pressed against the sides of his ribs, holding him close, your tongue licking feverishly behind his teeth.

At the last moment, he yanked his hips back and spilled his seed all over the inside of your thighs, keeping his mouth pressed firmly against yours until he was done painting your skin milky white.

"All this time?" he panted, gazing down at you while you both took a few moments to recover. "All these years?"

You nodded and brushed some of his hair away from his sweaty forehead. "From the first day."

His eyes slid closed in disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me? We wasted so much time."

You smiled and sighed, breathing in the cool night air. It was going to rain soon, you could smell it.

"All we have is time."

[peggythestrange]

Shen Jiu had his son, A-Yuan when he was young and inexperienced. He didn't want to admit he was a teen dad, he wasn't ready to raise a child of his own, telling everyone he made a huge mistake.

Because a-Yuan was nothing for him, but a mistake. And be felt bad for thinking that about a harmless child, who did nothing except being born. He felt bad for giving him all the blame because he was there. And the worst thing was... he couldn't get rid of him. Because when he looked at him, he could see a younger version of him. A baby he could raise in a safe environment. A baby he could take care of and protect, just as nobody did with him when he was a child.

He decided to keep him. He decided to keep him and raise little A-Yuan as his brother. Shen Jiu introduced him as he was his baby brother and everyone was confused because... they didn't even know Shen Qingqiu still had contacts with his parents. Weren't they dead?

By the way despite the weird situation, everyone decided that they wouldn't ask and accept the baby as SQQ brother.

Of course, all the Peak Lords LOVED baby A-Yuan and were delighted by his presence and happy to see Shen Jiu taking care of another living being. He seemed to be happy. They all saw him blushing and smiling every time the baby tried to touch his face and gifted his "big brother" with his cheerful baby laughs.

Everybody accepted his version of the story, except for Yue Qingyuan, who was suspicious about that. But if Xiao Jiu wanted to tell him, he would have done so. He didn't want to force anything on him, even if it was hard to hold his curiosity, he decided he would never ask about it.

A-Yuan grew up in a happy environment, surrounded by the love and care of his father he knew as his big brother and the Peak Lords who gifted him with all the best things he could ask for. And when he was old enough, Shen Jiu took him as his disciple and started training him in cultivation. A-Yuan was his father's biggest pride, he was smart and talented, and his personality was spicy enough to not allow anyone to step on his toes. Just like Shen Jiu, but a quieter version of him. After all, he was happy to avoid all the nasty things that happened to him for his child even as a brother.

Shen Jiu started to think about telling him the truth. He was old enough and maybe he could... maybe forgive him for the lie he told him his whole life. The truth was that Shen Jiu was scared to tell him he wasn't his brother but his son. What if he started to hate him? No, it was better to hide everything. Hide everything and just look at him growing up and making his own decisions. He was a nice kid after all and he never gave any kind of worry.

Real problems started in A-Yuan teen years, especially one day when he and Shen Jiu fought because of the close relationship A-Yuan had with that little beast Shen Jiu couldn't stand. He saw a real danger in Binghe and didn't want A-Yuan to get hurt. He didn't want him to cry or get sad, he just wished to protect him his whole life.

After that fight, A-Yuan ran away screaming.

"You can't choose for me! I'm old enough to decide for my life myself now! Besides, you're not my father!! You can't tell me what to do!"

Something in Shen Jiu snapped. His heart was broken so he told everything out of rage. But he couldn't imagine A-Yuan reaction to this.

Shen Jiu saw his son's face, his widened eyes, his eyes filled with tears, everything about him was screaming betrayal. He felt like Shen Jiu, his big brother, his father was never serious with him, and he never told the truth, not even one time.

Did he ever loved him?

Of course, Shen Jiu felt even worse. A-Yuan was a teen and he dropped a huge secret in his most sensitive years, what could he expect? He felt so stupid.

[meo-eiru]

hi dear, I'm not sure if ur ask box is already open, sorry if it isn't, please take your time and stay healthy

soo I've been thinking about that whole concept of delulu elf babying us and BOY isn't that depressing?? like I'd have a whole ass existential crisis after some time

I mean in my perspective, it must be pretty humiliating for a grown person to be not be taken seriously to such extent. like our boy doesn't even trust us to leave the house and is convinced that his darling needs his absolute protection. no personal space, little to no social interactions except for him, etc.

ANND the worst part is that Silas doesn't even realize that he's doing something wrong, unlike classic yanderes. in his head, he's only doing what's best for darling, without any ill intentions (man's head is filled with unicorns and rainbows). in a way, he's the child here; one that accidentally breaks a kitten's paw because they hugged it too tight.

so can you really blame him? can you really bring yourself to hate him? even if you're upset at him for taking away your basic human rights, he's only trying his best for you!! even if his concept of that "best" is a bit twisted. it's a whole ass internal conflict for darling we have here!

and like, I'm a pretty empathetic person, so I'd hate to see him cry. I'd hate myself if I ever snapped at him (he should only cry from pleasure uh huh). so the only choice I have is to slowly convince Silas to change, but can that really work? what if I'd have to spend a millenia like this, slowly dying on the inside?

that's kind of a hilarious concept for me, like, he's the mama here, but you have to sit him down and patiently explain how your body works, to not die because of overfeeding or smth like that

you created a masterpiece, my brainworms are brainworming so hard rn. I also have some interesting thoughts abt Elias ^^

(DESPAIR!! SUFFERINGS!! ok I'm sorry I still want to squeeze his booba like a stress ball)

I love this ask a lot because that's exactly the vibe I was going for with him.

It's very contradicting. On one hand his mothering is appealing because someone taking care of you with such genuine love is... nice. No matter how you act, no matter what tricks you pull, Silas will forever and ever love you with all his heart. You are his precious flower and he has so much affection for you. He can heal you, he can keep you fed, he can give you the love no one else can.

But at the end of the day that love will be the thing that ruins you. The fundamental difference between you two's existence, how you two view life and each other is just too much. While Silas can take care of your basic needs and give you love, him being so unable to fully understand you and your capabilities can and will eventually break you.

Silas is nice but he isn't. Silas can keep you healthy but also can't. He thinks he's sufficient for you but he just isn't.

He's beautiful and lives in a bright world full of colors but will be the one who'll strip your world of color.

You'll slowly change as he continues to suffocate you with affection.

And he will do all of it with genuine love and good intent in his heart.

Which is what makes him so contradicting. He's like your doom wrapped in cute packaging and presented to you by someone who loves you. He's a poison turned into a warm homecooked meal.

[pedrasacorn]

after that little blurb about jason still caring about reader even after breaking up with her for her own safety i now desperately need an angsty but also a comfort fic where they break up, reader is comfused and sad, jason is even sadder and maybe evn regrets his decision and then something important happens to reader and jason realizes what a mistake it was to push her away and apologises and its all good again! … lol sorry if this is too long i just liked your idea a lot :)

Jason breaks up to protect you

A/n: thank you for requesting :3 it’s so exciting and getting to challenge myself was fun!

Warnings: Blood, injury, brief description of depression, not proof read

5:30pm

Far above the city Jason watches you.

The rain and smog almost conceal his view as you exit your apartment.

But he knows your habits, the way you walk.

It’s only easy to get through your window because he’s the one who goon proofed it.

Your room is clean, as if untouched. Except the bed.

He takes stock of your fridge. Rotting vegetables he tosses, along with the moldy bread and…whatever the hell that was.

His heartache is good. And earned. Deserved even.

All it took was for one rogue to mention your existence, and that was it. Didn’t have a name; just a vague idea of your existence.

He clung to the feeling of panic lacing his veins, keeping it vivid in his mind. He used it to replace the urge to hold you, to wipe your tears, and reassure you. He knew better than to have been in your life.

He uses fresh milk to replace your…chunky one.

“I did not raise you this way…” He mutters; humorously.

As he broke up, he managed to look at your face, he imagined what it would look like dead, and bloody.

It didn’t help. Because you weren’t dead, but you looked something akin to it.

Eggs, and cheese. You don’t like eggs. He knows this.

More bread even if it goes bad again. And snacks. Easy freezer meals.

He shouldn’t, but he stays. He stays hidden in the dark where he belongs, needing to know you make it home okay.

6:31pm

Everything is a fog of grey.

The half eaten sandwich you had at work tasted like nothing.

You couldn’t even cry because—what was the point? You didn’t even really feel anything.

That nothingness multiplies when you get into your apartment. Locking everything up the way Jason taught you.

Although the stab wound, and blood dripping down your side doesn’t feel like nothing.

Sweat beeds down your face, collecting in the neck of your sweater. You just have to get to the kit Jason gave you; the medical bills were not worth it right now.

Your eyes meet his.

Your heart nearly falls out of your chest, releif flooding your veins.

“Jay I’m hurt.” Your voice breaks as tears warp your vision, softening out the world.

6:34

You, are still the most beautiful thing, he has ever beheld.

What was he doing? He had only meant to bring you food. Knowing your tendency to neglect yourself when you were heartsick.

It wasn’t your fault; he’d never blame you. Just wanted to know you weren’t going to fade out of existence the way he faded out of your life.

He runs to you, immediately ripping off your sweater, pressing his hand into your side.

“I’m not going anywhere sweets. M’right here.” He murmurs against your ear, “Who did this?”

“Some stupid—son of a bitch in an alley.” You rasp as he lies you down.

“Yeah? What son’uva bitch? You tell me. Now.”

His accent was so thick when he got upset; like when you forgot to eat, or drink water instead of caffeine.

He’s stunning.

“Hi…” you rasp.

“…hi surga’…” He soothes your cheek.

8:40pm

When you come to you’re alone in your bed.

A sob breaks through the quiet.

So light on his feet, you don’t hear him until he’s halfway into your room.

“Shhh baby it’s okay…hey, hey I’m right here.” He cups your tear streaked face.

You whimper. “You left.”

“I know but I’m not ever going to leave again okay? Yeah?” He tilts your face upward.

“You…you just think you know all the things.” You sniffle.

He can’t help his fond smile; he doesn’t mention how your words make little sense.

“Yeah?” He croons.

You nod.

“You just do things. All the time and it’s…just so you.”

Your glare holds little heat.

Even if it did, any heat from you is warmth to him.

His emotions are bared to you, he’s filled with guilt. Staying wasn’t rational, but he needed you.

He smooths your cheek with his thumb.

“Can you find some forgiveness in that pretty heart of yours?” He murmurs.

He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but it’s the best he can do to ask without begging.

“…I just missed you…the most.” You say, a bit delirious.

“Yeah I missed you too…” He kisses your forehead.

“Is that how you kiss the love of your life?” You glare.

There’s his sweetheart.

“Well you didn’t give me permission now didya?” He smirks.

You meet each other half way, his lips caressing yours.

[bvidzsoo]

Grease and Oil

⨳Mechanic!Mingi⨳

TW: cursing, smut wrap it before you tap it

Word count: 5,6k

A/N: I don't think I'll ever let go of bleached spikey haired Mingi. It changed something in me, I'll never be the same. I have nothing to say except...why did I even write this? Song Mingi stop haunting me, thank you. It's not the best, but the best I can write lol. Feedback is very much appreciated!

            The smell of grease, oil, and gasoline weren’t something unfamiliar to me, nor were they nauseating. It was something I was used to. These were familiar scents; scents which I have started associating with home. Cars, too, were something I associated with a feeling of familiarity, of something dear to me. Walking inside my father’s car service was like a second home, a place I knew like the back of my hand. I wasn’t huge on fixing cars, but I knew a few things here and there. Despite my father’s attempts at making me a great mechanic one day, I struggled to understand the in-depth parts and mechanism of a car, therefore I settled on appreciating their beauty. Can’t say my father was too happy about it, but his concerns faded away when I found a path for myself. I applied to a college, choosing to study literature as I struggled finding anything else I liked. Perhaps creative writing was a subjected I happened to enjoy too, but I had no idea where my degree would take me one day. I had no intentions of teaching English literature, the children these days were awful and very disrespectful. My short temper would’ve surely gotten the worst of me if placed in a situation where I had to deal with rude kids. And so, I settled on reading my books and pouring my feelings out into short poems when I wasn’t at college. Or by wasting my time away at my father’s car service. It’s not like I had anything better to do—I actually did, but procrastination is my best friend. Besides, most of his employees are above the age of thirty-five, and two of them I have known since I was a little girl, they could be really fun to hang around…and it’s not like I would often stop by because my father has an employee who is barely a few years older than myself. And it’s definitely not because he is the hottest man alive I have ever seen. He’s a tall and lean guy, his posture immaculate with his shoulders always pulled back, his long legs worth envying and shoulders so broad you could hide behind them and nobody would see you. In the summer, he usually wears tight tank tops, showing off his humble muscles, biceps finer than most guy’s of his age. And his pants, which are fireproof, cling onto his body, showing off his narrow waist. This guy was a sight for sore eyes and I couldn’t blame the few ladies who would occasionally stop by, completely taken aback by this guy’s visuals. It wasn’t fair that he had a perfect body, especially when his face was good-looking too. God sometimes had favorites and Song Mingi definitely was one of them with his long nose, sharp eyes and cherry red lips, a singular mole underneath his left eye decorating his flawless skin. His personality also made him desirable and that just made him a dangerously charming and handsome human being. Perhaps my frequent visits to the service during the summer were sort of his merit too, not just the want to spend some quality time with my father as he spent little time at home. I knew he was busy; I couldn’t blame him. His service was one of the best in our little town and money didn’t just magically appear, you had to work hard for it and that’s what he did, he worked his ass off all the time. The fact that he has employed Song Mingi was just the cherry on top, the little motivation I needed to perhaps learn more about cars.

I was settled on top of my father’s working desk, tools pushed to the side, feet dangling as I watched him work on a car’s engine, getting more and more furious by the second as he couldn’t find one missing screw. I watched quietly as his phone rang again, making him sigh loudly before he straightened himself up and took the call, eyebrows furrowed. It was a hot summer day, the AC did little to nothing inside the hot service, and the use of different electrical tools only created more heat inside the spacious room. I had started fanning myself, overhearing my father make an appointment as an obnoxiously loud engine whirled past the entrance to the service, making my heart skip an excited beat. It was lunch break, and Mingi had just returned from eating his meal. He was gone by the time I had arrived; I was rather lazy this morning and thus didn’t bother getting out of bed before 12 pm. My father turned towards me as he finished his call, looking rather irritated. It wasn’t directed at me; however, I still knew a lecturing would follow because I sat on his tool desk…again.

“Get off, Y/N, I asked you so many times not to sit there,” He sighed tiredly as he headed for the exit, “I have to examine a car, are you coming to the front?”

Certainly not before I have seen Mingi, “I’ll wash my hands first, they feel slimy, meet you at the reception, dad.”

He nodded once and hurried outside, phone already ringing once again. Summer seasons were always busy, work pilling up quickly. I started fanning myself with my hands as another heatwave hit me, making me sigh. Not even a tank top and shorts were enough to stop me from sweating buckets. I pushed my hair behind my shoulders and gripped the table, about to jump off it, when the man I stayed behind for finally showed up. He walked through the open garage door, having to duck as it wasn’t raised enough for his towering height. He had his back to me as he walked inside, carrying two boxes, muscles of his arms bulging as a few guys greeted him, instructing him where to place the boxes. However, nothing could’ve prepared me for the wave of shook which rooted me to my spot. My mouth hung open as my eyes remained trained on Mingi, and I could only hope nobody noticed my shameless gaping. Three days ago, when I have stopped by last, the man’s hair reached his shoulders almost and was a faded light brown. Now, his hair was completely bleached blonde and stood up in all places, spikey. A hairstyle definitely shouldn’t have made my tummy do flips, yet I had nothing to swallow as I watched Mingi laugh with a fellow mechanic, explaining something to him animatedly. His black tank top was tucked inside his beige pants, a black belt holding it against his hips securely. A black bandana was tied to his left bicep and I licked my lips as my eyes ran over his frame, stopping for a second too long on his ass. Perhaps crawling onto the wall sounded like the most normal thing to do right now. Just as I was about to look away, the man he was talking to briefly glanced at me and Mingi suddenly turned his head, eyes falling on me. Looking away right now would mean admitting that I had been staring at him, so I forced myself to smile nonchalantly at him and blame the flush on my cheeks on the extremely hot weather—which combined with Mingi’s presence only made my body heat up even more. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I’d do anything to get railed by Mingi while he wore his working clothes with grease smeared on his cheek. My heart skipped a beat as a lazy smirk appeared on his lips as he took off towards me, making me gulp in panic as I straightened my posture.

“Hello, princess.” He called once he was close enough and I rolled my eyes at the nickname, acting as if I totally hated it. It did bother me at the beginning when he started calling me that, but I didn’t mind anymore. And it certainly shouldn’t have made me blush.

“Hi, Mingi.” I greeted him back, smiling as I crossed my legs and leaned forward, holding myself up by my hands. My knuckles hurt from the grip I had on the table, but I ignored that.

“What brings you here today?” He asked nonchalantly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. I didn’t want to look, but his biceps were bulging and I’m just a simple woman, “Thought you washed your car when you stopped by last time.”

Ah, yes, the good old excuse of washing my car when it didn’t need washing yet. To be fair, I had a cleaning problem so that was the main reason why I washed my car so often, Mingi being here was just another thing to motivate me to stop by more frequently.

“I did, I’m not here for that.” I admitted, clearing my throat as Mingi’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. He hummed shortly, the sound deep in his throat, reminding me how hot I found his raspy and deep voice. He had once whispered in my ear as he snuck up on me, wanting to scare me, and I swear to God, I almost reached Heaven that day.

“Are you here for me then?” The cute pout of his lips and the finger he pushed against his cheek definitely didn’t match the sultriness of his words and the look in his eyes. It made me take a deep breath as I forced myself to roll my eyes, embarrassed that he had a feeling I was only here to see him. I mean…I did wear my favorite off-shoulder top just because I knew we would see each other.

“Why the sudden change of hairstyle?” I decided to change the subject, but it only made Mingi smirk as he looked at me almost victorious, almost as if he knew I didn’t answer him because he was right. Mingi ruffled his already spikey hair with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Just wanted something new,” He answered, “besides, it’s so hot these days, my long locks only made me sweat more. I feel like a new man right now. What do you think, do I look nice?”

Nice was little said, I would’ve described him more like: hot, sexy, attractive, gorgeous, mouth-watering, “Yeah, you look nice. It suits you.”

Mingi smiled happily and bowed lightly before his phone beeped. I didn’t understand how a man like him could be so cute while looking like a Greek God. My eyebrows slightly furrowed as I watched Mingi chuckle and smile down at his phone, quickly typing something on it. Perhaps he was seeing someone? Of course, why would a man like him be single? It shouldn’t come as a surprise; I should have thought about that sooner. But then again, he never mentioned a significant other. With a sigh, I jumped off the table and dusted off my shorts, running my hands through my hair. Mingi paused, looking up at me through his long lashes. I forced a smile on my face, suddenly discouraged by my own thoughts, as I grabbed my phone off the table.

“Got to go, dad’s waiting for me.” I mumbled as Mingi’s eyes slightly narrowed, eyes swiftly running over my body. He nodded wordlessly and I turned around, taking off towards the exit.

“That top looks really nice on you.” My steps halted for a second as I looked back at him and chuckled before exiting the garage, walking towards the reception, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach at the simple compliment. I should probably download a dating app and find someone available to obsess over.

            The blaring music and blinding disco lights in the living room were becoming too much as my tipsy head swirled around like a disco ball, throat parched up and dry from the lack of water. Certainly the amount of alcohol I have had was enough for the night as I pushed people out of my way, slightly wobbling as I headed for the kitchen, desperately needing water. A super rich guy from college threw a huge ass party and invited some guys over from our college, one of them being one of my close friends. I wasn’t one to turn down a good party, and when the alcohol was free, I would certainly attend it. Seonghwa and I had teamed up and played beer-pong together, kicking Wooyoung and San’s asses, but losing to Hongjoong and Yunho. We should have known better not to challenge those two competitive monsters. All in all, the night was fun and after having lost Sooyoung to some hot guy, I hit the dancefloor with Wooyoung and San, the three of us dancing our hearts out to every song. After a while, I grew concerned and started calling Sooyoung, making my two dancing companions almost take my phone away after six missed calls. But it didn’t take long for Sooyoung to finally text me, telling me she was upstairs with a Yeosang named guy smoking some weed, and that she’d be down in no time. I rolled my eyes at the text, huffing as I handed Wooyoung my phone to take care of. My skirt had no pockets and I forgot to bring a fanny-pack, I have grown tired of holding my phone, Wooyoung’s back pocket would do the trick until Sooyoung returned and I could give my phone for her to put in her little purse. The music wasn’t as loud in the kitchen as it was in the living room and it was also less packed, which made me grateful as I walked over to the window and pushed it open, smiling contently at the cool air which hit my face. I certainly needed to cool down. I grabbed a red cup which looked relatively unused and filled it with tap water, downing it in mere seconds only to fill it up again and again until I felt satiated. I threw the cup away and leaned against the counter, holding my thumping head in my hands as I closed my eyes for a second, thinking it would help. But it only made me more nauseous and I quickly opened my eyes as I massaged my forehead, still leaning slightly over. Somebody next to me asked if I was okay and I quickly nodded, telling them that I just needed a moment to regain composure again, and I’ll be off dancing once again. However, a weirdly familiar deep voice suddenly filled the kitchen, some high-pitched giggle following straight after the ridiculous joke the guy told. My nose scrunched up at the very cheesy pickup line which followed and I snorted, unintentionally catching their attention as they didn’t stand too far away.

“Y/N?” The deep voice asked surprised and my eyebrows furrowed as I finally raised my head, smoothing down my hair as it fell in my face.

“Oh, Mingi.” I muttered just a little surprised by his presence here. I wondered how he knew about the party, however, the black-haired girl by his side was a tell-tale. She was a student at my college and she was pretty as fuck. I sighed, and unintentionally glared at her, unimpressed by her presence next to Mingi. It’s not like I knew her well to form an opinion about her, but personally, I didn’t like her that much. Especially since Mingi seemed to be here with her. My eyes fall back onto him and my brain blanched for a second, never having seen him outside of the car service up until now. Him not wearing his tight-fitting clothes was something new and I couldn’t help but let my eyes run all over his body, taking in the sight in front of me. He wore a loose-fitting white t-shirt, the front slightly tucked inside his grey ripped jeans which were baggy. He wore a black pair of convers, and a black fanny-pack was pushed around to his backside to not bother him. However, what made me take a second to process what I was seeing were his accessories. His necklaces were layered as he wore a red braided like material which sat snugly against the base of his neck, then a silver chain followed, and a silver cross which reached just bellow his collarbones. His wrists were decorated with silver chain bracelets, matching the chain around his neck and he wore various rings, some bigger than the other, his right-hand sporting four meanwhile his left three. If all of that combined with his hair wasn’t enough, his fingernails were also painted black, albeit already coming off in some spots, but still painted black. He was a sight for sore eyes and it took everything in me to not grip his arm and walk us upstairs, completely disregarding the girl he was here with.

And she just had to speak up, “Oh, you two know each other?”

“Yeah, her dad’s my boss.” Mingi answered before I could and I raised an eyebrow as the girl took me in, unexpectedly smiling at me as she placed an arm around Mingi’s shoulders. My jaw tensed subconsciously and I licked my lips as I leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“We go to the same college,” She told Mingi, offering her hand to me, “I don’t think we’ve ever really introduced each other, though. My name is Jennie, I’m Mingi’s cousin.”

“Cousin?” My eyebrows raised as I shook Jennie’s hand, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Mingi playfully pushed Jennie off himself as he answered my question and Jennie just rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, giant, if I leave you alone with Y/N, will you behave?” She raised her eyebrows threateningly at Mingi and he just chuckled, raising his hands in surrender.

“I always behave.” He defended himself quickly, but sounded like he didn’t mean it at all.

“No, you don’t.” Jennie rolled her eyes then looked back at me, “I have to find my boyfriend, he’s somewhere here around, probably drunk off his ass. If Mingi bothers you, just knee him in the stomach really hard and come and find me, I’ll kick his ass for you—”

“I’m right here, you know.” Mingi rolled his eyes and ruffled Jennie’s hair, “Get lost before I chase you away.”

Jennie scoffed but walked away after she waved at me, leaving me alone with Mingi. My hostile behavior slightly dropped, but I couldn’t help look at Mingi with narrowed eyes. I knew what I heard while I was fighting the urge of throwing up. Why would anyone flirt with their cousin? That was disgusting.

“If Jennie is your cousin…why would you say a pickup line to her?” I couldn’t help but ask him accusingly. It made Mingi laugh as he stepped closer, smiling cheekily.

“Eavesdropping, weren’t you?” I opened my mouth to deny his claim, but Mingi didn’t let me, “First of, ew, that’s literally my cousin do I look like I fuck with family? And second, that pickup line was actually sent by someone whom I have been talking to, and I was just reading it to Jennie.”

“How many girls are you talking to currently?” The question tumbled past my lips before I could even think about it. I only could blame the alcohol for making me so straightforward and embarrassing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…” Mingi chuckled and stepped closer, invading my personal space. I gulped and pressed myself harder into the counter, hands coming to grip the edge of it. A smirk appeared on Mingi’s lips as he leaned down to be eye level with me, eyes searching my face before they settled on my lips briefly. My head was spinning and perhaps I was seeing things, but his tongue poked out for a second, “You look really hot.”

I gulped and let out a quiet breath, looking down at myself. The leather skirt clung onto me like a second skin and the flower decorated corset did little to nothing to cover what I would usually hide. It was Sooyoung’s idea to dress up like this, she wore a matching set except her corset was green meanwhile mine pink.

“Uh, thanks.” I whispered and didn’t dare move as Mingi lowered his head even more, looking through his lashes as he looked me in the eyes. He’s never stood this close to me before; it only now made me realize the height difference between us. And I couldn’t help but faintly smell gasoline despite his strong cologne.

“Dressed up for someone?” He muttered and I felt a warm finger lightly trace the skin of my right arm. I gulped nervously and ignored the goosebumps on my skin.

“I didn’t know you’d be here—” I tried changing the subject, it seemed to be a habit of mine lately.

“But if you did know, would you have dressed up for me?” Mingi’s raspy voice whispered in my ear as he leaned closer, my mouth opening without a sound coming out. My tipsy brain didn’t exactly know how to function in that moment and that meant I had nothing to say. But as he pulled back, we made eye contact, and his intimidating gaze pulled an answer out of me instantly.

“Yes.” I would totally hate myself in the morning for admitting that, but I couldn’t help myself. Not when he was standing so close and saying things like that. A smirk pulled onto Mingi’s lips and suddenly his hand raised as he gripped a strand of my hair lightly and twirled it around, brushing it behind my ear. I watched him mesmerized, body slightly trembling because of different things. The opened window brought in the chill breeze and we stood close to the it; Mingi’s closeness and touch made me want to crash my lips against his, and I was fighting every fiber in my body to stop myself from doing that, thankfully not tipsy enough to lose all rationality.

“I think I know about your little secret, princess.” Mingi’s tone was playful as he suddenly cupped my cheek and tilted my head back, hovering his face over mine, eyes tracing my features slowly. I hoped my red lipstick wasn’t smudged and that it would be smudged in no time.

“What secret?” I asked confused, biting my lower lip as Mingi’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, his fingers slipping towards my nape as his thumb pushed against my cheek.

“About your little crush—” He barely whispered, eyes on my lips as my mouth parted, heart beating like crazy, “on me.”

Before I could answer him, his teeth caught my lower lip between his and he sucked on the flesh, making my face flush as I mewled, hand holding onto his waist for more stability as the counter wasn’t enough anymore. He held eye contact as he released my lip and I felt like crumbling onto my knees and giving him anything he wanted as my grip tightened on him, head pulled closer to his by the grip he had on my nape. Mingi’s lips barely brushed against mine and I tried to close the impossibly little distance between us, but he just tsked and smirked.

“Good girls eventually get what they want, princess, be a bit more patient.” I couldn’t help but groan in frustration as Mingi released me and took a step back, smirking as he swiped his thumb over my lower lip, smudging my lipstick. I threw him a glare, but he just laughed and then turned around and walked off with a cup he grabbed off from the counter. I couldn’t help but lick my lower lip, pressing a palm against my racing heart as I tapped the sweat off my forehead, needing another cup of water to cool off.

            And I didn’t even have to wait for too long. Four days after the party, my father asked me to stop by the car service because he couldn’t decide what color to choose for the tuning he was doing for one of his friend’s car. I couldn’t have been happier to stop by as I made it my personal mission to stay away from that place for as long as possible, embarrassed by what happened between Mingi and I at the party, but also because I wanted to torture him a bit too. I could only hope he yearned to see me as much as I yearned for him. My father was out, having to pick up some pieces in the nearest city, which was half an hour away, so that meant he’d be gone for approximately an hour and a half. Everyone was gone by now from the car service as working hours were over, everyone except Mingi, of course. He had to catch up on his work as he had to skip a day for some undisclosed business. And yes, Mingi should’ve been working right now on that old car nobody actually wanted to fix, but here he was, balls deep in my pussy, thrusting into me like his life depended on it. I guess he was just a simple man too, and he fell exactly into my trap as I walked through the garage door wearing my little sundress, high heels elongating my legs. It didn’t take long for Mingi to stop whatever he was doing as he dragged me to the backroom, where there were no cameras, and pushed up on the table, wasting no time in undressing himself and working up the both of us. My head was thrown back from the constant pleasure his movements brought, his length reaching places no one else has before, my right hand gripping his bare waist as I rolled my hips to meet his thrusts. Mingi was biting his lips hard, holding onto my hips as I had to hold myself up with one arm, muscle straining with each strong thrust. Perhaps I should have expected him to be vocal, but the whines he would let out every now and then only turned me on even more, dragging my own moans out of me. Grease stuck to his left cheek, just underneath his mole and his already sweaty body from working was glistening once again, smelling strongly of the substance he has been working with to clean rims of the old car.

“I bet you’ve been fantasizing about me fucking you covered in grease and all sweaty from the long day I’ve had.” My only answer was a loud moan as he hit the sweet spot which made me see stars, and for a second, all I could hear were his own pants and the table squeaking louder and louder with each thrust.

“You have no idea—” I moaned as I clenched around Mingi, mind blanching for a second as he hit that spot again, “How fucking hot you look—like this.”

My fingertips dug into his hips and Mingi suddenly leaned down, pressing my back flat against the wooden table, rotating his hips as he suddenly slowed down. My mouth opened in a gasp and my legs went around his hips, one hand tangling in his blonde spikey hair as the other went around his shoulders to anchor myself. Mingi groaned in my ear as I clenched around his length again, his thrusts painfully slow on purpose, making me try to move my hips, but he had me pinned down by his heavier body.

“Fuck, please—” My whine was muffled by his lips as he pressed them against mine, pushing his tongue past my lips as I kissed him hungrily, wanting to feel more and more of him. Our lips moved messily against each other as Mingi slightly quickened his pace, but it still wasn’t enough. My eyebrows were furrowed as it started becoming unbearable and I whined, pulling my head away and choking on my words for a second, “I’m going to fucking die if you don’t go faster.”

I couldn’t believe Mingi had the audacity to smirk as he bit my lower lip harshly, making me push his head away as he chuckled amused, fake pouting at me.

“Thought I said good girls get what they want—” He completely stilled, bringing tears into my eyes out of frustration as I gripped his nape, trying to move against him to no avail, “And you’re being rather impatient right now.”

But before I could say anything, the slightly stood up and pulled almost fully out before slamming in again, his pace relentless and thrusts sharp as he threw his head back, moaning, making me grip onto his lower arm as he hit my g-spot over and over again, making my back arch as broken moans left my lips, nails digging into his skin. I was going fucking insane as his thumb found my clit and he started rubbing circles on it, making me cry out as I felt my orgasm building up, ready to snap any second as Mingi’s moans got higher and higher, my walls clenching tightly around him, bringing him closer to the edge as well.

“Fuck.” He hissed at a particular sharp thrust, his hips almost stuttering but I managed to meet his movements, desperate for my own release as I clawed at the wooden table, back arching as the pleasure became unbearable and the knot in my stomach snapped, making me let out a high-pitched moan, only for Mingi’s lips to muffle it as his hips stuttered, his own release following mine, filling me up. My body trembled and my lungs heaved for air as I came down from the high, our lips touching with Mingi as we both panted into each other’s mouths. His scent was intoxicating and I couldn’t help but burry my head into his neck and lightly bite down on his perfect skin, making him shudder. He didn’t pull out yet and I felt him twitch slightly, making me chuckle.

“So, I’m hot when I’m all sweaty and covered in grease?” He spoke up, voice raspy, and his words made me laugh as I allowed my head to rest against the wooden table, throwing an arm over my eyes. I could feel Mingi’s smile as he pressed a kiss against the corner of my mouth, swiftly pulling out.

“I said it once, I won’t say it again.” I peeked at him as he quickly pulled up his boxers and tight pants, adjusting his tank top.

“If I knew all I had to do was change my hairstyle for you to finally let me fuck you—” Mingi shook his head as he helped me off the table, smirking when I had to lean against it for support, my legs having gone numb, “I would’ve done it a lot earlier.”

“Perhaps if you weren’t so oblivious,” I threw him a glare and pulled up my panties, adjusting my dress, “You would’ve noticed how badly I wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you, idiot.”

Mingi laughed and threw an arm around my shoulders as he pulled me into himself, “Now that that’s out of the way…do you want to date or do you want us to just fuck?”

His question made me pause as I looked up in his eyes, biting my lower lip in thought, “You want to go out with me?”

“I sure do.” Mingi said it like it was the most obvious thing, then he jutted his chin towards mine, “What about you?”

“What do you think?” I asked with a chuckle.

“That we should go for a second round—”

“Mingi!” I pressed my palm over his mouth and threw him a little glare, “My father could be back anytime, you know. And yes, I do want to date you. Unless you’re always this annoying.”

Mingi fake laughed as he pushed my hand off his mouth, “Aren’t you just so funny?”

I stuck my tongue out at him and he tried kissing it, making me yelp and push him away, which made Mingi giggle as he placed his hands in his pockets, “So, tomorrow at six?”

“But you better shower before you come pick me up.” I pointed a finger at him as we went to leave the room.

“I thought I smelled hot—”

“You can’t smell hot, so just—” I sighed and looked at him, “Just—dress up. You—I mean, you know, you looked really good at the party. I haven’t seen you out of your work clothes before.”

“Aw, aren’t you so shy right now and stuttering all of a sudden?” He cooed and poked my cheek, “As if I wasn’t inside you—”

“Y/N, you still here?!” I heard my father’s voice shout from afar and I threw Mingi a warning look as I pushed him away. He walked towards the car he had to fix defeated, throwing me those sad puppy eyes and a pout as my father walked inside the garage.

“Hi.” I waved at him and he smiled, glancing at Mingi.

“You can fix it tomorrow too, you know?” My father said as he went to put his own utensils away. Mingi hummed but said he didn’t have much until he was done, liar. My father glanced at me and I looked away from Mingi, smiling at my father innocently. He just shook his head and threw his keys at me, making me clumsily catch them.

“Go pick up your mother, I’ll stay behind and help Mingi fix the car.” He muttered tiredly as he walked up to my soon-to-be-boyfriend, oblivious to what Mingi would soon become to him as well. Not just an employee, but perhaps a part of our family too. I jokingly saluted my father as I stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Mingi, who was already watching me.

“Goodbye, Mingi.”

“Bye, Y/N.” Mingi tried to fight the smile off his lips as I turned around and ran off with a giggle, cheeks burning suddenly with embarrassment.

Good girls eventually get what they want, don’t they?

Masterlist

[tabbytrout]

“If you wanna act like an animal, I'll treat you like one. "

You have. For years, I am different than the other kids on the playground, I like to read and draw, I probably barked or meowed once or twice as a kid, I may have even hissed at you when you upset me. Why did I do all of those things? Because, I was a little neurodivergent kid who hadn't learned how to act in public when I was little. Middle school hits, and I have only slightly changed, I won't hiss at you anymore but I am still weird, I'm too much for most people, I start to trail behind people like a lost dog, I start to get rewarded when I do something they like but yelled at when something I do upsets them, And even then I would take the blame even if it was their fault. It's high school now. I'm loud. I'm mean, I'm different than the others, I'm neurodivergent and I'm alternative and I don't take shit from most people,

So I became the animal that bites.

But while you were watching me become the mean dog, I was already there. I told my entire family that I was a cat. I had family who treated me like a cat! I had a cousin who would pet me, not in a weird way, she never did anything bad. But I would get cradled and I was given different foods that resembled cat food or dog food, take those Scooby cracker things for example! I loved those, while you were bullying me I was imagining what it would be like to run around in the woods as a wolf, Or what it would be like if I was a little cat, and sometimes when you would startle me I would hiss at you, lost in thought and terrified of human interaction. I had my grandmother ask if I was still gonna do this when I was older, an what would my husband think? Well... I'm dating another alterhuman now. Which is what I told her I'd do anyway, so! Here I am!

My point is, no matter how hard I've tried I've never felt human. So much so that as a kid I recognized, "I'm not like these people." my alterhumanity stems from Neurodivergence, My trauma, My not fitting in with people, and honestly I love being able to slap this label on. I loved knowing there were people like me! I wish I would've learned about it sooner. I remember seeing the "on all levels except physical, I am a wolf" vine and Being like. That's SO COOL!!?

And I will always chuckle at the "Well! .. You don't have to become an animal because of that stuff!" like no fuck off you're so anti fun and coping and you're just boring!!! The community has its flaws, but It certainly has its perks. I wouldn't have met some really amazing people if I hadn't learned about it!

I love being an animal and expressing myself

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

i just imagine mc loving driving sebastian up the wall by whispering things like I want you inside me or I want to taste you before walking away like nothing all day sebastian and his will power are holding on by a thread

One of Those Days | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

ahhhh anon thank you for this request I had sooo much fun torturing Seb while writing this. I hope you enjoy it too!!

Words: ~5,500

Tags: Implied Smut, Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Post Canon, Seventh Year, Angst, Teasing, Longing, Established Relationship

Friday mornings always held a certain promise for Sebastian. The week’s end brought the light at the end of the tunnel: no more late-night study sessions, no looming deadlines, and—best of all—plans for the weekend. And this weekend was shaping up to be exceptional.

He was seated at the Slytherin table across from Ominis, who was currently buttering a piece of toast with his usual meticulous care. Sebastian leaned back, cradling his coffee, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Why are you so smug this morning?” Ominis asked without looking up, his tone laced with suspicion.

Sebastian chuckled. “It’s Friday. The weekend awaits. And tomorrow’s plans? Impeccable.” He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice. “She got me tickets for the Puddlemere United match. Front row.”

Ominis raised an eyebrow, still focused on his toast. “Ah, yes. Your doting girlfriend, endlessly spoiling you. Do remind me how the universe decided that you deserved her?”

“Still trying to figure that out myself,” Sebastian replied, taking a sip of his coffee. He grinned despite the jab. Ominis had been endlessly teasing him about your relationship since it had started over a year ago, but Sebastian couldn’t blame him. He still felt like he was getting away with something by having you in his life.

His gaze drifted to the Great Hall’s double doors for the third time in as many minutes. You were always late to breakfast—perpetually running behind in the morning.

“She’s late,” Ominis said flatly.

“She’s always late,” Sebastian replied, unable to keep the affection out of his voice. “You’d think by seventh year she’d have mastered the concept of time.”

“She must have overslept,” Ominis mused, as if it weren’t the obvious explanation. “Again.”

“She was up late,” Sebastian said defensively. “Studying."

“Is that what she told you?” Ominis asked, tilting his head with a knowing smirk. "Let's be honest, she was probably off fighting acromantulas in the forest again."

Sebastian opened his mouth to reply, but then he spotted you slipping through the doors, looking every bit as radiant as he’d expected. His heart did its usual stupid flip at the sight of you.

You glanced around the room, spotting him instantly. That smile widened, and you started toward the Slytherin table.

“Speak of the devil,” Ominis huffed a laugh, though Sebastian barely heard him. His attention was fixed entirely on you as you approached.

“Morning, boys,” you greeted, slipping into the seat beside Sebastian as though you weren’t a solid twenty minutes late. “Miss me?”

Sebastian leaned closer, brushing his shoulder against yours. “Always. Though I was starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”

“Got caught up,” you replied breezily, reaching for a piece of toast. “You know how it is.”

Ominis sighed. “No, we don’t. Some of us value punctuality.”

You smirked at him, your eyes glinting with mischief. “And yet, I still manage to charm you both despite my flaws. A talent, really.”

“Somehow, I don’t think it’s charm so much as sheer persistence,” Ominis replied dryly, but there was a flicker of a smile tugging at his lips.

Before you could reply, Imelda Reyes appeared behind him, her usual air of impatience in full force.

“Ominis, did you finish the notes for Professor Binns’ essay?” she asked brusquely, tapping her foot as if she had somewhere more important to be.

Ominis sighed heavily. “Yes, Imelda. Not that I understand why you insist on taking history so seriously. You do realize it’s impossible to impress a ghost?”

As Ominis turned his attention to Imelda’s complaints, you leaned toward Sebastian, the faint scent of your shampoo teasing him as you spoke just low enough for him to hear.

“You know,” you murmured, “I had a dream about you last night.”

Sebastian froze, the casual sip of coffee he’d been mid-swig nearly going down the wrong pipe. He coughed, turning his head away to avoid choking outright. When he finally managed to compose himself, he looked at you, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“And what, exactly, was this dream about?” he asked, keeping his voice even.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you picked up your teaspoon, delicately stirring your tea, your gaze fixed on the swirling liquid as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. When you finally lifted your eyes to meet his, you tilted your head, your lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile.

“Nothing appropriate for breakfast conversation,” you replied sweetly, dragging the edge of the spoon between your lips.

Sebastian’s brain short-circuited. He stared at you, a faint pink creeping up the back of his neck as you set the spoon down with an air of innocence. You went back to buttering your toast like you hadn’t just shattered his ability to think coherently.

“Everything all right, Sebastian?” Ominis asked, his attention back on him now that Imelda had left.

Sebastian cleared his throat. “Fine,” he said quickly. Too quickly.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, biting into your toast to hide your grin. Ominis raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t press further.

You sipped your tea serenely, but Sebastian could feel the amusement radiating off you in waves. He knew that look. The playful light in your eyes, the subtle curve of your lips—it was the look you always got when you were about to cause trouble. And Merlin, it was only breakfast, but you’d already decided to make this one of those days.

He sighed internally, doing some quick mental math.

It lined up. Of course, it did.

Three weeks ago, you’d asked him to come with you to the apothecary, dragging him along while explaining that you needed to restock ingredients for a potion you brewed monthly. He had listened with genuine interest, mostly because you had a knack for making even mundane things captivating. You’d laughed when he asked a few questions, calling him “endearingly clueless for someone so brilliant,” and gone on to share more details about how the potion worked to ease period pains. But now, as he connected the dots, realization dawned with the weight of inevitability.

You were ovulating.

Sebastian’s stomach did a little flip, and a faint, involuntary heat crept up his neck. That explained everything: your heightened playfulness, the way you leaned just a little closer, the way your teasing had an edge that sent sparks skittering down his spine. You were always a minx—bold, confident, and unrepentantly mischievous—but there was something about these days that tipped you from charming troublemaker to full-blown menace. And now that he’d caught on, he knew exactly what kind of day this was shaping up to be.

He was in trouble.

The rest of breakfast passed in a blur. You kept your hands to yourself, but every glance, every comment, you sent his way held that same spark. It was enough to make him want to tug you into an empty corridor and—

“Ready for class?” Your voice broke through his spiraling thoughts, cheerful as ever. You rose from your seat, brushing crumbs from your skirt as if you hadn’t spent the last fifteen minutes planting suggestive landmines in his brain. He swallowed hard and nodded, pushing his chair back to stand.

Ominis muttered something about Sebastian being unusually quiet, but Sebastian waved him off, claiming he was still waking up. A complete lie—he was wide awake now.

As the three of you made your way to Charms, Sebastian tried to steel himself. He knew better than to let you get under his skin this early in the day. If he gave in to your antics now, you’d win—and you loved to win.

The moment you slid into the seat beside him, he felt the familiar brush of your knee against his under the desk. He told himself it was unintentional until you shifted just enough to press against him more deliberately. His gaze flicked to you, but you were already pulling out your parchment, looking perfectly innocent.

When Professor Ronen began the lecture, Sebastian attempted to focus. It lasted all of five minutes before you leaned toward him, your lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“Your concentration is admirable, really,” you whispered, the soft warmth of your breath sending a shiver down his spine.

His quill faltered mid-stroke, leaving a jagged mark across the parchment. He turned his head, intending to glare at you, but you were already sitting back, your expression unreadable as you scribbled down notes, head tilted in concentration, the very picture of academic diligence. But then he felt it—your hand, light as a feather, brushing against his thigh under the table. His breath hitched. You didn’t react, didn’t even glance his way. Instead, your quill kept moving steadily across the parchment as though you hadn’t just set his pulse racing.

Your fingers rested there for a moment, almost as if testing the waters, before you began to trace slow, deliberate circles against the fabric of his trousers. Sebastian swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he gripped his quill. He tried to will himself to focus, to block out the sensation, but you didn’t stop. In fact, you leaned slightly closer, your arm brushing his as you added a flourish to your notes.

“Comfortable?” you murmured, your voice low enough that no one else could hear.

Sebastian glanced at you sharply, his eyes narrowing in warning, but you didn’t look at him. The only sign of your mischief was the faintest twitch at the corner of your lips.

His hand twitched, tempted to grab yours and stop you before you pushed him any further, but he knew better. Drawing attention to what you were doing would only give you more satisfaction. So instead, he gritted his teeth and leaned slightly away, his voice a hushed growl. “Behave.”

You finally turned to him, feigning wide-eyed innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Seb,” you said, your tone sticky sweet. “I’m just taking notes.”

The corners of your lips quirked upward, and Sebastian let out a slow exhale. You were relentless, and this was only the beginning. He shifted slightly in his seat, praying for the class to end quickly before he did something that would land both of you in detention.

But then your hand slid higher, and all thoughts of self-control vanished in a haze of heat and frustration.

“Are you trying to get us caught?” he muttered, his voice strained. His hand moved under the desk to still yours.

You leaned in slightly, your lips close to his ear. “What’s the fun in that?” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin.

Sebastian’s jaw clenched, his knuckles white as he gripped his quill. He managed to hold on until Professor Ronen called for the end of class . You finally withdrew your hand, gathering your things with a pleased smile that only deepened the blush on his cheeks.

When Defense Against the Dark Arts rolled around, Sebastian had convinced himself that you’d already done your worst for the day. Charms had been a test of endurance, but surely you couldn’t keep it up through another class—especially not with Professor Hecat keeping a watchful eye.

You slid into the seat next to him without a word, a soft hum of a tune under your breath as you unpacked your things. Sebastian didn’t miss the glint of mischief still lingering in your eyes, but he chose to ignore it.

Professor Hecat began the lesson with her usual briskness, outlining the day’s activity: practicing defensive and offensive spells in pairs.

Sebastian exhaled in relief. Partner work meant he could focus on the task at hand, and spell practice was something he excelled at. He cast a sidelong glance at you, waiting for the inevitable quip about how you’d wipe the floor with him. But instead, you gave him an easy smile, looking far too composed for his comfort.

“Alright, partner,” you said, drawing your wand and stepping into position across from him. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Sebastian smirked, eager to reclaim some sense of control after the morning’s torment. “Ladies first,” he said, gesturing for you to make the first move.

You raised your wand, your posture flawless, but before casting, you paused. “It’s so warm in here,” you murmured, loosening your tie and pulling it free with a casual flick. You undid the top two buttons of your blouse, fanning yourself with your hand. “Don’t you think?”

Sebastian stiffened, his smirk vanishing. “I—what?”

You gave him a pointed look, as if waiting for an answer, before shrugging lightly. “Never mind. Let’s get started.”

He barely had time to blink before you cast Expelliarmus, your wand aimed with precision. The spell hit him squarely, sending his wand spinning out of his hand. You grinned triumphantly as you caught it midair.

“Not bad, huh?” you teased, your voice light and smug.

Sebastian huffed, running a hand through his hair to buy himself a moment. “Not bad,” he echoed, stepping closer. “Now, hand it over.”

You tilted your head, your eyes gleaming with playful defiance. Instead of returning his wand immediately, you held it up, forcing him to move closer. “Come and get it."

Sebastian gritted his teeth, closing the distance between you. His pulse quickened the moment he got close enough to take in the details: the faint flush across your cheeks, the way your chest rose and fell just slightly faster than normal, and—Merlin help him—the open collar of your blouse that gave him a perfect view of your collarbones and just enough cleavage to make his mouth go dry.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, his gaze flickering to yours. Your pupils were blown wide, and that maddening smirk was still firmly in place. You smelled like your usual perfume, that subtle scent that had been driving him to distraction all day, mixed with the faintest trace of parchment and ink.

Sebastian’s hand shot out to take his wand, but you pulled it back at the last second, your smirk widening. “What’s the matter? You look a bit tense.”

He took another step closer, his chest nearly brushing yours. The air between you crackled with tension, and he was certain you could hear the rapid thud of his heartbeat. He locked eyes with you, his voice low and rough. “I’m starting to think you want me tense.”

You shrugged. "Not sure what you're talking about."

Sebastian’s jaw tightened, his patience hanging by a thread. He reached for his wand again, his fingers brushing against yours as he finally pried it from your grip. For a moment, his hand lingered over yours, his thumb skimming the back of it before he pulled away.

“Your turn,” you said, stepping back with a satisfied smile. “Let’s see if you can disarm me.”

Sebastian let out a slow breath, gripping his wand tighter. Focus, he told himself, though it was easier said than done with the way you were looking at him—like you were daring him to lose control.

“All right,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. “Ready?”

“Always,” you replied, your smile unwavering.

He raised his wand, channeling every ounce of his frustration into the spell. Expelliarmus! The red jet of light shot toward you, and your wand flew from your hand, clattering to the floor behind you.

You sighed dramatically, shaking your head. “Well done,” you said, your tone dripping with mock defeat. “I suppose I’ll have to get that.”

Sebastian watched, helpless, as you turned and bent over to retrieve your wand, taking your sweet time as you reached for it. His gaze betrayed him, trailing down the curve of your back to your hips and further still. The hem of your skirt rode up as you bent, barely covering what it was meant to, and leaving absolutely nothing to Sebastian's already frazzled imagination.

He swallowed hard, dragging his eyes away with an effort that felt almost physical. Merlin, you were going to kill him. He could already feel the warmth creeping up the back of his neck, and he prayed to every deity he could name that no one else was paying attention.

When you straightened and turned back to him, wand in hand, your smirk was firmly in place.

“Enjoy the view?” you asked, tilting your head as if the question were perfectly innocent.

Sebastian couldn’t help the low growl that escaped him as he stepped closer again, his voice a quiet warning. “Keep it up, and you’ll regret it.”

Your grin widened, utterly unrepentant. “Is that a threat?”

For a split second, he considered saying something that would wipe that smirk off your face, but Professor Hecat’s sharp voice cut through the tension. “Back to your positions!” she barked, her gaze darting between the two of you. “Focus, Mr. Sallow, Miss—”

“Yes, Professor,” Sebastian said quickly, stepping back and trying to calm his racing heart. But as he moved into position, he could still smell your perfume lingering in the air, and the image of your teasing smirk was seared into his mind.

He was barely holding it together, and the day was far from over. But surely, over lunch and surrounded by friends, he’d have some semblance of a reprieve. You wouldn’t dare push things in front of an audience—or so he hoped.

He slid into a seat beside Ominis, who was already stirring a bowl of soup to cool it off. Garreth and Natty sat across from them, deep in a lively debate about the Honeydukes confections.

Sebastian exhaled a small sigh of relief as you arrived a few moments later, seating yourself between Natty and Garreth across from him. You greeted everyone cheerfully, plucking a goblet of pumpkin juice from the table with your usual grace. For a fleeting moment, Sebastian thought he might actually survive the meal unscathed.

He was wrong.

You reached for the fruit platter in front of you, selecting a piece of pineapple and popping it into your mouth with a content hum. Sebastian caught himself watching the way your lips curled around your fingers, quickly tearing his gaze away as heat crept up his neck.

He wasn’t fast enough. You noticed, of course, and your eyes gleamed with mischief as you plucked another piece of pineapple, holding it up thoughtfully.

“Sebastian,” you said, your tone far too casual, “do you eat pineapple often?”

His brow furrowed. “Uh, not really. Why?”

You shrugged, biting into the pineapple and chewing slowly before answering. “Oh, it’s just something I read once. Supposedly, it makes… certain things taste better.”

The words hung in the air for a split second before their meaning hit him like a Stupefy spell. His jaw dropped, and he felt the heat in his cheeks spread like wildfire.

Garreth, who had been mid-sip of pumpkin juice, choked and started coughing, his face contorted with suppressed laughter. Natty’s eyes widened before she covered her mouth with her hand, a muffled giggle escaping. Even Ominis, usually the picture of composure, pinched the bridge of his nose with a long-suffering sigh.

Sebastian, on the other hand, was frozen, torn between mortification and the desperate urge to throttle you—or kiss you senseless. “You—” he spluttered, his voice low and strained. “You can’t just—why would you—”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “What? It’s just a question. I’m curious.”

“Curious,” Sebastian echoed, his voice a growl. His grip tightened on his goblet, knuckles white as he tried to maintain some semblance of composure.

You grinned, clearly pleased with yourself, and went back to your meal as if nothing had happened. Garreth finally managed to stop coughing, wiping tears from his eyes as he laughed. “Merlin’s beard, Sebastian, you’re as red as my tie.”

“Shut it, Weasley,” Sebastian muttered, glaring at him before shooting you a dark look.

Ominis sighed again, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Do the two of you ever give it a rest? Some of us are trying to eat in peace.”

Sebastian gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus on his plate. You, meanwhile, continued to eat with maddening grace, each bite more deliberate than the last. To anyone else, you seemed completely oblivious, but Sebastian knew better. The way your lips lingered on the edge of your goblet, how your tongue darted out to catch the stray drop of pumpkin juice, the slow way you licked your fingers after finishing a piece of fruit—it was all deliberate, and it was driving him insane.

When lunch finally ended, Sebastian practically leapt to his feet, eager to put some distance between you. But as the group began to disperse, you slipped up beside him, your hand brushing against his arm.

“What do you say we use our free period to get a head start on homework?” you suggested, your tone casual but your eyes sparkling with mischief. “The library’s quiet. Perfect for concentration.”

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at you, suspicious. “Concentration, huh?”

You tilted your head, looking up at him with faux innocence. “What else would we be doing?”

He exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. The library it is.”

Sebastian trailed after you, already regretting his decision to agree to this “study session.” He wasn’t walking to his doom—not exactly—but it certainly felt like you were leading him into a trap he’d willingly sprung. Every step you took ahead of him, your hips swaying just enough to catch his attention, felt deliberate, and his patience was wearing thin.

When you reached the secluded table in the back of the library, you slid into a seat with a satisfied smile, glancing up at him as if daring him to sit across from you. Of course, he did—because, Merlin help him, no part of him could resist you, even when you were driving him out of his mind.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you said, leaning forward to rest your chin in your hand, your voice laced with amusement. “Something on your mind?”

Sebastian opened his mouth to reply but quickly thought better of it, forcing himself to focus instead on pulling out his parchment and quill. He needed to get this essay done, fast—before you found another way to turn his brain to mush.

“Nothing,” he muttered, not looking up. “Let’s just work.”

You hummed in response, a light, teasing sound that sent a shiver down his spine. When he finally risked a glance at you, you were watching him with that knowing smirk, the one that said you knew exactly what you were doing to him—and you had no intention of stopping.

To your credit, the two of you did manage to work in relative silence for about an hour. It was a miracle, really, considering the way you had been tormenting him all day. The soft scratching of quills and the occasional flipping of pages filled the air, lulling Sebastian into a false sense of security. You even asked him a few legitimate questions about your arithmancy work, and he found himself easing into the rhythm of study.

But of course, it couldn’t last.

You tapped your quill against the edge of the table thoughtfully, drawing his attention as you tilted your head, a curious expression on your face. “Sebastian,” you said slowly, like you were turning something over in your mind.

He glanced up, cautiously optimistic that this might be a real question. “What?”

“If you cast Levioso on something heavy enough, do you think there’s a weight limit?”

Sebastian frowned, considering. “There’s a theoretical limit, I suppose. It depends on the skill of the caster and the strength of the enchantment. Why?”

You propped your chin in your hand as you gestured toward the sturdy oak table in front of you. “Can you cast it on objects to make them stronger, or is that a separate charm altogether?"

Sebastian blinked at you, trying to gauge where this was going. Your expression was innocent enough—curious, thoughtful—but he’d spent far too much time with you to let his guard down completely.

“That’s a separate charm,” he said slowly, leaning back in his chair. “Reinforcement charms can strengthen objects, but Levioso isn’t meant for that. It’s just levitation.”

You nodded thoughtfully, your fingers tapping lightly against the edge of the table. “Makes sense,” you mused. “I was just thinking… these tables have probably been here for decades, maybe centuries."

Sebastian frowned, unsure where your train of thought was leading. “I suppose so. Why?”

Your lips curved into a soft smile, and you tilted your head, your eyes sparkling with a mischief he recognized all too well. “Oh, no reason,” you said lightly, waving a hand. “I was just wondering how much weight they could handle. You know, hypothetically.”

The room seemed to still as your words hung in the air, and Sebastian felt his stomach drop. His quill froze mid-scratch, and he stared at you, his mind racing to keep up.

“Hypothetically,” he repeated, his voice flat, though his pulse was anything but.

"You know," You shrugged, leaning back in your chair with an air of nonchalance that was completely at odds with the gleam in your eyes. "Like the weight of two people."

Sebastian stared at you, half-convinced he was hallucinating. You were far too composed for someone who had just casually suggested something so completely inappropriate in the middle of the bloody library, yet here you were, twirling your quill like the picture of innocence. He wanted to say something clever, something sharp that would throw you off your game, but his mind was stuck on one thing.

Two people. This table.

Sebastian’s knuckles turned white as he gripped his quill, his patience dangling by a thread. He could feel the heat crawling up the back of his neck, and you noticed, of course. You always noticed. The way your eyes sparkled with mischief, that faint smirk tugging at your lips—you were daring him to lose control, and you both knew it.

But Sebastian was stubborn, if nothing else. He forced his gaze back down to his parchment, his quill scratching out nonsense as he tried to focus on anything other than the absurdly inappropriate image you’d planted in his head.

“Anyway,” you said lightly, your tone as innocent as ever, “I've had enough of arithmancy for the day. What was the essay prompt again for potions? Something about brewing methods?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “The efficacy of different brewing techniques for enhancing potion potency.”

“Right,” you said, nodding thoughtfully, a contemplative look crossing your face. “Hm… I think I know a book that covers this. It talks about how it’s all in the measurements. Every little thing has to be just right. You’ve got to be so careful with how deep you’re going in, or… well, the whole thing can become quite explosive."

Sebastian’s quill snapped in half.

He froze, staring down at the broken pieces in his hands as if they might somehow offer an escape from this torment. But when he looked up, your smirk was waiting for him, smug and triumphant.

“Oops,” you said sweetly, tilting your head. “Did I say something distracting?”

Sebastian gritted his teeth, his patience unraveling by the second. “You know exactly what you’re doing,” he growled, his voice low and tense.

“Do I?” you replied, feigning innocence. But the glint in your eye betrayed you. You leaned forward slightly, your voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Surely you'll get top marks on this essay... I think you know exactly how deep to go."

Sebastian stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor as he pushed it back. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and filled with a heat that made your smirk falter for the first time all day.

“Outside. Now,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

Your brows lifted in mock surprise, but the flicker of excitement in your expression didn’t escape him. You opened your mouth to say something—no doubt another teasing remark—but he wasn’t having it.

“Don’t,” he warned, cutting you off. “Just move.”

For once, you complied without argument, though the playful sway of your hips as you walked ahead of him made it clear you weren’t done yet.

Sebastian followed close behind as you weaved through the bookshelves, his chest tight with frustration and something far more dangerous. He didn’t know what he was going to do when he finally got you alone—but he knew he couldn’t take another second of this.

“You’ve been playing games all day,” he growled as you walked, his voice low and rough. “Do you think I didn’t notice? Do you think I’d just let it slide?”

You raised a brow. “I don’t know what you mean,” you said, tilting your head in mock confusion. “I’ve been perfectly well-behaved.”

Sebastian grabbed your wrist, his forehead nearly brushing yours as his hand came up to cup your jaw. “Well-behaved?” he echoed, his tone dripping with disbelief. “You’ve been driving me mad. Every look, every word, every touch—” He cut himself off, dragging a hand through his hair before pinning you with a glare. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you?”

His grip on your wrist tightened—not enough to hurt, but firm enough to leave no room for argument. Without another word, he turned sharply, dragging you through the corridors at a pace that made it clear his patience had completely run out.

You didn’t protest, your steps falling into sync with his as he led you toward the one place he knew you’d have privacy: the Undercroft.

When you finally reached the hidden entrance, Sebastian didn’t even bother with his usual careful precision. He muttered the incantation quickly, his voice rough with impatience, and the hidden door swung open. He tugged you inside, the heavy door slamming shut behind you with a resounding thud that echoed in the quiet, secluded space.

The silence hung for a moment, broken only by the sound of your unsteady breaths as Sebastian turned to face you. His gaze was dark, intense, and utterly consuming as he stepped closer, backing you up until your spine pressed against the cool stone wall.

“Do you think this is a joke?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous, every word dripping with frustration and something far more primal. His hand braced against the wall beside your head, effectively caging you in.

Your smirk returned. “I think you’re overreacting,” you replied, your tone light but laced with a hint of defiance. “All I did was—”

“All you did,” he interrupted sharply, his other hand gripping your chin gently but firmly, tilting your face up to meet his eyes, “was make me spend the entire day trying not to lose my fucking mind.”

You didn’t back down, even as his chest brushed yours. “I was just having fun."

“Fun?” Sebastian echoed, his lips curling into a humorless smile. “You think driving me mad was fun?”

You tilted your head, grinning. “I think you like it."

Sebastian’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, the tension between you seemed to reach its breaking point. His thumb brushed over your jaw, a deceptively soft gesture that made your breath hitch. “Maybe you're right,” he admitted, his voice gravelly. “But don’t think for a second that you’re off the hook. You’re going to pay for every second of torture you put me through today.”

Your smirk widened, and you leaned up to brush your lips against his, your voice a teasing whisper against his mouth. “Promise?”

Sebastian’s answering smile was dark and full of intent as he guided you toward the sofa. “Oh, you have no idea.”

[qiu-yan]

avoidance

if i had been in jiang cheng's position immediately after the fall of lotus pier, i probably would not have tried to strangle wei wuxian.

i don't like dealing with negative emotions, so instead i'd probably say some bullshit like "whaaat? no, it's not your fault and i don't blame you at all, so don't worry about it," and then just put all my energy towards trying to survive. except i would blame wei wuxian. i would very much blame him, from the depths of my soul. even if i tried my hardest to convince myself not to blame him, that i should not blame him, that i do not want to blame him - nonetheless, my subconscious would remain convinced that, were it not for him, my family and everyone i grew up with would still be alive.

and, because of that resentment, i would begin to pull away from him.

i would not save wei wuxian from that wen patrol. even if i did love that deeply, my resentment would still blunt my reaction time and i would not be able to act in time. for the sake of convenience, let's say that wen ning rescues wei wuxian from lotus pier anyways. wei wuxian lives. what happens then? on one hand, i still resent him for causing the deaths of all my family; on the other hand, though, now i also feel guilty for allowing him to be captured and tortured simply because i would not die in his place. how do i deal with these complicated emotions - these unsightly, ugly emotions? i don't. i bury them and pretend they don't exist, because running away from difficult feelings is how i've always lived my life - i run away from him, because whenever i see him, this twinned of resentment and guilt rear their ugly heads again.

thus, because of my emotional unavailability, the relationship tanks. maybe wei wuxian gets his core melted, somehow picks up demonic cultivation anyways, and is thus pulling away from me as well; maybe the avoidance comes from both ends. and if wei wuxian instead notices that something is wrong and starts pestering me about what's wrong - well, i have full faith in my ability to deflect. i am long-practiced in diverting the focus of a conversation specifically to imply that the other party's concern isn't welcome.

thus, by the time the sunshot campaign ends, our relationship would have severely deteriorated. and then, because of this, i would take wei wuxian leaving our sect to protect the wen remnants as the actual end of our bond. unlike jiang cheng, i would not even argue against wei wuxian's leaving, nor say things as sentimental as "if you insist on protecting them, then i cannot protect you" - instead, i'd simply write off our relationship as doomed and sever it peacefully.

after all, he owes me nothing. i am entitled to neither his labor nor his presence. if he wishes to leave, then he is free to go; if he wishes to no longer be family, the i will no longer think of him as so. in fact, the less familiarly i think of him, the better: it is at once much easier and much more comfortable for me to believe, in a post-hoc sense, that someone who has left me actually never wanted to be with me to begin with, and i therefore have not lost anything of value at all. and this loss would not hurt me as much as it hurt jiang cheng in canon. after all, i, unlike jiang cheng, am a veteran at avoiding all thought on topics that distress me; instead, i'd soon find something new and exciting with which to distract myself.

i would not visit wei wuxian in the burial mounds. if jiang yanli insisted on seeing him, perhaps i would accompany her there, but i would not make any conversation with him myself beyond what is absolutely necessary. i would consider the death of jin zixuan unforgivable. i would consider the death of jiang yanli unforgivable. but perhaps i would not feel as wretchedly betrayed as jiang cheng does in canon: after all, i in this scenario, unlike jiang cheng, have already given up on wei wuxian a long time ago.

i would probably lead the first siege of the burial mounds. i would not hold the same level of animosity against the wens as jiang cheng does in canon - in general, while i can hold onto subconscious resentment for a long time, actively clinging onto seething hatred for extended periods of time is difficult for me. perhaps i'd even speak up more for the wen remnants, out of purely some abstract moral concern for the wellbeing of POWs; however, i'd stand down the moment any of said speech put my own people in danger. perhaps i'd lead the first siege of the burial mounds because it is expected of me. or perhaps i'd genuinely want the man who hurt my sister to die.

either way, if i then encountered wei wuxian in the burial mounds battlefield, i would actually kill him. it would be easy for me to do so.

---

as you might have guessed, the "i" in this passage is not actually me (yanyan) from real life. if it were Me In Real Life in jiang cheng's position i would probably just die.

instead, the "i" in thjis passage is a different MDZS character. prize for you (bragging rights) if you can guess who it is!!!!!