#mix of embarrassment and me making it unreasonably personal

[incognit0slut]

Permanent attachment

in which you’re far too comfortable to move from Spencer’s lap, and he doesn’t mind carrying you around

content: fluff, 1.7k, established relationship, lots of kissing, sex talk, kinda fade-to-black smut, reader being very clingy, and spencer’s tummy (my fav) a/n: i once told @mandarinmoons that i wanted to climb the man and not even in a sexual way and she said “like a koala?” and to that i answered YES! self-indulgent fics are the best

Spencer smells nice. Like, annoyingly nice. And it’s not the kind of nice that’s vaguely pleasant. No, this is the kind that settles into your bones. A mix of soap and something uniquely him that you can't quite name but would probably pay an unreasonable amount to bottle up.

Now that sounds like a dream. Imagine Spencer in a bottle, spritzed onto your neck, lingering on your skin. Imagine a personal cloud of him following you everywhere, with top notes of freshly brewed coffee and a base note of comfort that leaves you no choice but to lean in just a bit closer. You shift on his lap, pretending to get comfortable, but really, it's because you want to catch another whiff.

Your boyfriend catches you mid-inhale. "Comfortable?"

You don’t even bother pretending to be embarrassed. Who cares if he knows you’re borderline obsessed? Who wouldn’t be? He’s smart, handsome, and smells like heaven bottled in human form. So instead of pulling away, you double down, pressing your nose right into the curve of his neck as your answer.

"I'm starting to think you might be a little attached.”

You sigh against his skin, “Might be? Spencer, I'm practically grafted onto you at this point. You better get used to it."

A hand runs up your spine. “Not that I’m complaining, but my legs might actually fall asleep if I don’t get up soon.”

“So dramatic,” you tease, smiling as you press a soft kiss to his jaw. The subtle scrape of his stubble tickles your lips.

“I don’t think you’ve moved an inch in the past hour.”

“I don’t even want to move an inch,” you murmur against his cheek. "I just want to stay like this. Forever. If I could just crawl under your skin and stay there, that would be perfect.”

Spencer laughs softly, the sound rumbling under your lips. You feel the warmth of his smile as he tilts his head toward you. “That sounds sweet yet incredibly creepy.”

“You know what I mean!” You slide your arms around him, weaving them across his shoulders. “I just… I want to—ugh, I don't know… squeeze you so tight you’d become part of me? Like an extension of my arm or something."

“That definitely sounds less creepy.”

“Shut up.” Your lips trace the rough scratch of his jaw, brushing along the curve until you reach the corner of his mouth. "Don’t you want someone permanently glued to you?"

“You’re definitely making a case for it.”

“Oh I’d climb you if I had to.”

His hand slides up to cup the back of your neck. “Is this where I find out you’re secretly a koala this whole time?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum against his lips, “and you’re my tall, handsome tree.”

His laughter vibrates against your mouth, and you let yourself melt into him, breathing in that comforting scent you’ve grown addicted to. You love him so much. You love him too much that your heart feels like it’s stretching to make room for all of it.

When he finally pulls back, you can’t resist reaching up to smooth your thumb over his bottom lip. “See? Permanent attachment.”

His own thumb caresses the back of your neck in lazy strokes. You're practically dissolving into him.

"I don’t have much of a choice, do I?" The tip of your nose brushes against his as you shake your head. He steals another quick peck from your lips. "I really do need to get up though.”

You pout immediately. “Why?“

“Because my throat is actually starting to feel a little dry. I could use some water.”

“Water is overrated. Stay.”

“Honey,” he croons softly, his eyes squinting with that familiar crinkle at the corners. He thinks you’re cute when you’re clingy. “The kitchen is only ten feet away.”

“Ten feet too far. Do you know the kind of emotional damage I’ll suffer if we’re apart for too long?”

“So dramatic,” he mocks back, planting a kiss on your jaw, your cheek, and you giggle when his mouth lands on the skin between your ear and your neck. “All I’m asking for is ten feet. I promise I’ll be quick.”

“I might wither away from loneliness by the time you get back.”

You feel the ghost of his smile against your skin. “I’ll be back before you even have a chance to miss me.”

“I miss you already,” you sigh when he gently nips at the soft flesh of your neck. “Maybe you should just take me with you.”

You’re mostly bluffing, half-expecting him to laugh it off because Spencer has never actually carried you before. Not that you’ve ever minded—it’s not exactly the first thing you’d expect from him. But before you can even process it, he shifts beneath you, sliding one arm under your knee and the other around your back with surprising confidence.

And just like that, the floor seems miles away as he lifts you up.

“Wait! Wait!” you laugh, clutching at his shoulders. "Spencer!"

“I thought you wanted to come along."

“I didn’t think you’d actually carry me!”

You’re met with his steady grip, and to your surprise, he’s not struggling in the slightest. Apparently, those arms are stronger than you’d given him credit for, and it’s… well, very, very attractive. He strides confidently across the apartment, and you can’t help but let out an impressed, slightly flustered, “Okay, this is actually kind of hot.”

The corners of his lips twitch upward, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I did not know you were strong enough to do this,” you comment, then a thought sneaks into your mind, “Do you think we can try this position in the bedroom?”

He looks surprised and mildly amused. “Really? While standing?”

You loop your arms tighter around his neck. “You seem perfectly capable.”

“Wouldn’t I be doing all the work?”

“I thought you liked doing all the work.”

His chest presses against yours as he lets out another laugh. “If by that you mean spoil you, then yes, I do,” he says, casting a quick glance around the room. “Can I sit you on the counter, or are you planning to keep hanging on to me?”

“Tempting, but you can put me on the counter.”

With a gentle ease, he lifts you just slightly higher and sets you down on the cool countertop. “I can still carry you around if that’s what you want.”

“I know,” you reply, reaching up to brush a stray lock of curls from his face. “I don’t want to tire you out.”

“You’re not tiring me out,” he assures you as he reaches up to grab a glass from the top shelf, arm stretching just enough to give you a teasing glimpse of his soft stomach.

You can’t help yourself. You reach over and splay your hands over that warm skin, feeling the faint tickle of the fine hair scattered down his belly that disappears into his waistband. He doesn’t flinch—he’s long used to your hands finding their way to him like this—but he does cast a sidelong look in your direction. Behave.

If he’s expecting you to follow some sense of decorum, he should know better by now. You give his stomach a gentle, almost smug pat, and shakes his head as he moves to pour himself water.

“What do you want to do after this?” he asks, glancing back at you over his shoulder. You don’t give him an immediate answer, but he’s already suggesting a few ideas for the rest of the evening.

You can’t even pretend to pay attention. Is it normal to be this obsessed with your boyfriend? Because at this point, your focus isn’t even on the words coming out of his mouth. Something about a documentary, maybe. He’s probably rattling off the details right now, but you’re entirely distracted, your eyes shamelessly zooming in on the way his forearm flexes as he holds the glass. Even the soft hair dusting over his skin is doing things to you.

He catches your blatant stare and looks at you over the rim of his glass.

“What?”

“You are so sexy.”

He almost chokes on his water. The glass clatters against the countertop as he sputters, “What has gotten into you today?”

Probably ovulation. But you simply shrug, legs swinging idly against the cabinets beneath you. “I just love you.”

The answer is simple. Words spoken with all the casual sincerity you feel, but it’s enough to melt his astonishment into affection as he strides over and slips between your thighs.

“You just love me?”

“Yeah,” you reply softly, reaching up to brush over the delicious roughness of his stubble. “Like a ridiculous amount. Probably too much.”

His heart is swelling, so full it feels like it’s about to burst. “I love you too.”

“That’s it?”

You watch as his nose twitches, the smallest hint of a smile playing at his lips before he sighs, “I love you so much, angel."

"I think you can do better than that."

He huffs a chuckle, "I love you too much," he tries again, "more than I even know what to do with."

You smile in satisfaction, a little triumphant over his exaggeration. You’ve taught him well. “Say it again.”

The wide expanse of his palms settles on your waist.

“I am madly,” he presses a kiss to your cheek, “deeply,” another finds its way to your jaw, “hopelessly,” he murmurs as he grows even closer to your lips, “in love,” he’s a breath away from yours, “with you.”

The space between you shrinks to nothing. You swallow his last words, letting them dissolve on your tongue like the sweetest confection. What begins as a delicate melding of warmth and breath quickly intensifies, as though he’s determined to steal every bit of air from your lungs. And before you know it, his hands are sliding under you.

A surprised squeal escapes your lips as he lifts your weight, and an even louder gasp follows when he carries you toward the bedroom.

You know exactly what he plans to do for the rest of the evening.

[pictured-as-perfect]

this is all i feel like sharing oops

i have so much going for them in my brain. but Alas. alas.

[samgelina-jolie]

It all started a week ago. Steve had come along to The Hideout, decked in his darkest polo shirt. It was the first gig he'd come to since him and Eddie had officially- as Robin put it- 'got their shit together'.

Steve had met the band plenty of times already, and while they'd been pretty standoffish at first, he liked to think he got along with them pretty well. Jeff actually shared a similar taste in music (even admitting to liking ABBA because it reminded him of his mother) and he'd known enough about Star Wars and a mix of Dustin's interests to win over Seth. It was harder to read Gareth, but Steve had assumed they were at least acquaintances.

That was until Steve had walked up to the bar where Gareth was talking to some girl, and then Gareth had said the meanest thing imaginable.

"He's my buddy's boyfriend."

Eddie hadn't seen what the big deal was. But Steve understood the importance of befriending your partner's best friend.

Well, back in high school, Steve had never really bothered with his girlfriend's friends. He'd focused on putting in effort with the girls he found attractive, wooing them with flowers and gifts. The girls who he wanted to like him did, he didn't really care how much the other girls didn't. The only job the best friend really had in his mind was picking up the pieces after he left those girls in the dust.

That was all before Nancy, of course. She'd been so adamant about him making an impression on Barb, so he'd tried. He invited her to parties, kept Carol and Tommy off her back, even tried to back her up once or twice when Barb and Nancy were bickering.

And it worked out... kind of. Barb had still rolled her eyes whenever Steve opened his mouth, but she was also the one who pulled him aside and saved him a whole lot of embarrassment and heartache.

"I'm telling you this because I would want to know, and because I guess you're not the worst person in the world. Nancy has been hanging out with Jonathan a lot lately... I just think maybe you should pay a bit more attention to it."

But besides him and Nancy as a couple not working out, he'd realised how important being on good terms with the person you're dating's friends is to being a good boyfriend. Which is why it was integral that he became proper friends with Eddie's best friend.

--

"What are you wearing?"

Steve had just walked into the Munson trailer. He'd spent nearly an hour trying to perfect his hair, so he's mildly offended that his outfit is the first thing his boyfriend noticed. Steve glanced down at his shirt with the huge Green Day logo printed onto it. He wasn't sure why Eddie looked so appalled, it wasn't dirty or anything.

"Oh, Gareth let me borrow it. Cute right?" Eddie's nose scrunched up even further, full on glaring at the offensive item.

"I can't let you into my room with that shirt on."

"Well hopefully once we get to your room neither of us will have our shirts on" Steve chuckled, leaning in for a kiss but Eddie turned his head.

"I'm serious, big boy. The polos and tight jeans, you're whole hot preppy look actually, that all really does it for me and you know it. But this?" He pulled at the fabric of the shirt. "This is the one piece of clothing I never want to see you in."

Steve scoffed. Eddie pushed him gently away with a shake of his head.

"I'm turning off the benefits."

"What benefits?"

"The sex benefits, no more sex until you admit you're not a Green Day fan and we burn that shirt."

"Eddie this is my in with Gareth! He's finally starting to warm up to me." Steve whined. "Besides, you can't just, like, turn off us having sex!"

"Oh yes I can. All I have to do is think about you in this abominable outfit and my boner just-" He whistles, imitating his finger deflating. Steve pouted. He knew rationally he could just give Gareth back the shirt, but that would mean embarrassingly admitting he didn't like Green Day to Gareth and then trying to find another in with him.

So no, Eddie was just being unreasonable.

Anyway, he was totally bluffing about the sex. Steve hoped.

--

"It's been five days Robin! I mean, we haven't gone that long without having sex since.. since we started having sex!" Steve cried, following the woman around as she restocked the shelves. Even though he couldn't see her face he could tell she was rolling her eyes.

It was a serious situation though, at least in Steve's opinion. He and Eddie hung out all the time, and while he obviously enjoyed doing other things with his boyfriend, he wished the other man would at least have the decency to not be so sexy while performing daily tasks. Steve had been this close to jumping him in the frozen food section of the grocery store yesterday.

And he knew he wasn't the only desperate one, Eddie was suffering too. Obviously he'd assumed Steve would cave after a day, because he'd been all jumpy and grouchy for nearly a week. And he kept making that face that Steve recognised all too well whenever Steve did anything even slightly suggestive. Like when he'd bent down to put his laundry in the dryer, and when he turned back around Eddie was beet red and avoiding eye contact.

"Have you tried breaking out the old Harrington seduction techniques yet?" Robin shrugged, obviously not bothered by the fact her best friend was on the verge of death due to lack-of-sex-with-his-really-hot-boyfriend disease.

The thing was, he had tried his old methods. He tried wearing tighter shirts, that strained around his arms and showed off his midriff (but always making sure he was wearing some kind of Green Day memorabilia, because damn him if he wasn't going to be right about this). He'd invited Eddie along to his and Lucas' basketball game. He even tried straight up begging, knowing how much that usually gets Eddie worked up.

And nothing!

Although, there was still one move he hadn't tried yet...

--

"You want to what?" Eddie shot him an incredulous look.

"Help you study, of course. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't help you with your problems? Besides I have this really neat method to help you revise." Steve let himself into the trailer and Eddie's room. He wasn't wearing a Green Day shirt today, but he did have a wristband, something he knew Eddie had spotted already as he walked into the room with his arms crossed.

"Right. And what method would this be?"

"Every time you get an answer right, I take off a item of clothing, and vice versa." Steve plopped himself down on the unmade bed, which he'd missed dearly. Eddie hadn't even let them take naps together in his room, insisting 'spooning almost always leads to sex with you'.

Eddie considered his offer carefully, before nodding with a shit eating grin. Steve cheered internally.

"Great!" Steve smiled before adding "Your rings all count as one item by the way." He tried not to look too smug at the way Eddie's confident grin faltered.

The game reached its boiling point very quick. Eddie had known more about Geography then Steve had expected, which reflected in the fact he only had his boxers and one sock left on. Eddie, however, wasn't doing too much better, sat in only his jeans (and Steve suspected no underwear underneath).

He's not sure who kissed who first, but suddenly Steve was pressed against the mattress, Eddie's thigh between his legs. Excitement coursed through him, his body so receptive to Eddie's touch after so long he wasn't even embarrassed at the noises he was letting out. His hips bucked up, causing Eddie to groan into his mouth.

"So the Green Day thing?" Eddie mumbled between kisses down Steve's neck. The noise Steve made was loud and high pitched, almost drowning out the man's next words. "It's over then?"

Steve paused, the hand that had been trailing down his boyfriend's chest pushed firmly against him as he pulled away.

"Over because you've let it go, right?" He mumbled. Eddie pulled back, his lips red and glossy.

"No, over because you let it go?" Steve huffed, sitting up and pulling his clothes back on. He tugged his jeans on in annoyance, storming out of the bedroom.

"You know what, I'm turning off the benefits now! No sex until you admit Green Day are better than... than Dio!" Steve yelled. He was irritated and extremely worked up but he was also incredibly stubborn. He heard a squawk of protest from behind him as he made his way outside.

"That wasn't even the rule!" Eddie called out, but Steve ignored him. He was not loosing this fight.

--

Listen, Metal music was fine, Steve endured listening to it with Eddie like he endured watching sports games with Steve. He was content in the knowledge that not loving every single one of each other's interest didn't mean they didn't love each other.

Punk was fine too, it still wasn't Steve's thing really, but it was okay and while Steve couldn't tell the difference, according to Gareth there was one. A huge one, if the way he'd been ranting about it for the past hour was anything to go by.

But between fighting with his boyfriend (because it was a genuine fight at this point), not having any sex for nearly two weeks, and being stuck listening to someone talk about something you have no interest in for hours, Steve couldn't take it anymore.

"I don't like punk music! I listen to Queen and Cyndi Lauper and sometimes Madonna and happy music that I can dance to without thinking about America's political landscape!" He blurted out. Gareth stopped his rambling about how Rob Harper was a better drummer than Pete Something, flashing Steve a confused expression.

"Then why were you pretending to?" He asked.

"I... I just didn't want you to just see me as 'Eddie's boyfriend'. I wanted to be your friend and Jeff told me you like punk music so I brought it up and..."

"Look, you are Eddie's boyfriend. Yeah, you're an okay dude, but I can acknowledge that without us having to do the whole friendship thing too, you know?" Gareth shrugged. Steve deflated.

"Right." He said, quickly making an excuse and leaving. Gareth shrugged off the weird feeling the guy's sad puppy dog eyed had given him, grabbing Steve's fries.

He felt kind of embarrassed that he'd been talking for ages with someone who didn't even care. He supposed it was nice of Steve to make the effort, Gareth wasn't aware he'd been trying so hard honestly. Jeff and Seth had warmed up to him pretty quickly but he thought that was just because they were just softies that were no immune to the 'Harrington Charm'.

"Steve?!" A loud yell startled him out of his thoughts.

Eddie stormed into the bar, wearing- holy shit, Gareth felt like he must have hit his head and started hallucinating. This day had taken such a weird turn, because there Eddie Munson stood before him decked out in a 'I heart Green Day' shirt. He also looked like it was taking every ounce of self control not to rip it off his body like it burned.

"Finally come around on the punk scene, Munson?" Gareth chortled. Eddie threw a fry at his face.

"Shut your trap, I need to find Steve before one of the gremlins sees me in this, they're too impressionable." He muttered, taking a seat as he looked around the bar.

"If this is a Steve thing you can stop anyway man, he admitted he doesn't really like them that much. It's kind of weird I mean, who lies about being into something to get someone to like them?"

"Dude, I spent the whole summer eating ice cream as a lactose intolerant person because Steve worked at Scoops Ahoy. He was just trying to find something for you to be friends about." Eddie shot him an unimpressed look, which Gareth thought was a bit high-and-mighty considering he just admitted to basically poisoning himself on a weekly basis for a guy he'd thought was straight at the time.

"Why exactly?"

"I don't know, Steve likes being close to people? He's basically besties with his ex girlfriend, man. Why are you so adamant he can't be yours?" Gareth considered this.

He remembered when Eddie had first told the band he was dating Steve Harrington. They'd all thought he was kidding, but there he was at their next rehearsal, cheering them on and spending his breaks holding Eddie's hand.

Gareth thought maybe it was a joke to Steve. Messing with the guy who likes men by making him think he has a shot with the former prom king. He thought it would end with Eddie in tears, and that had probably made him a bit more defensive than he needed to be. Maybe there was a small part of him, no matter how great Steve seemed, that still believed the guy was setting his best friend up for heartbreak.

"Look, I get that you might have reservations about him. But all I'm saying is- and I've got about a dozen preschoolers and multiple full grown adults that would back me up- Steve Harrington is a pretty great friend to have. So if he offers you friendship, you should take it." Eddie snatched a handful of fries as he got up, leaving Gareth alone at the bar.

--

Steve was half way out the door, wearing nothing but Eddie's Dio vest and grey sweatpants when he saw Eddie. He was standing in front of him, eyeing Steve like a starved man presented with a stake. Steve guessed he probably had a similar look, smiling at the Green Day shirt the man was wearing.

"Oh my god take your pants off." Eddie basically growled, slamming the front door to Steve's house shut as he stalked towards him. He pulled Steve into a ferocious kiss, hands quickly travelling down to his ass.

"Leave the shirt on." Steve gasped out. Eddie let out a muffled groan into his neck. They ran to the bedroom, loosing the vest and both of their pants on the way.

--

"Steve? You home, man?" Gareth heard a loud noise inside, followed by hopping, then Steve opened the door slightly. He was sweaty and shirtless, and his hair was a mess. He'd probably just been working out or whatever jocks did in their spare time.

"Listen, I'm sorry about what I said at the bar. You're a cool guy, I'd like for us to be friends, really. I even thought of something we could bond over; haircare. I've actually been meaning to ask you for some tips anyway." He admitted. Steve beamed, Gareth was almost scared the incredibly sweaty man was about to pull him into a hug. He didn't, he just kept smiling.

"That's real nice for you two, maybe next he'll ask you to prom!" Eddie's voice rang out from somewhere behind the door. Steve flushed a little and hushed him. Gareth was kind of confused as to why Eddie voice sounded so coarse and breathless, he didn't think Eddie had ever voluntarily exercised in his life.

"I would really like that, Gareth. I'll tell you everything you need to know, come by anytime. Except right now." He smiled again before slamming the door. Gareth heard more noises inside, wondering what the fuck they were up to until he heard a loud moan. Oh God, Gareth started running.

Still, he couldn't help but smile. It was always nice to make more friends.

[alwaysaslutforfic]

Tsukki Headcanons ❤️ - NSFW

Just some musings on my favourite Sendai Frogs middle blocker ☺️

Warnings: nothing super explicit. Mentions of sending nudes, hair pulling, and oral sex

Minors keep away from the cut and DNI!

Beta readers? Pft

Listens to any and everything but with a purpose 👌🏾. Ask him for a recommendation in any genre and he’ll give you a top 5 tier list. Has playlists arranged by mood, genre, vibe and occasion (he even has one for you that he will literally never tell you about but plays often. He just tells you it’s his favourite mix). Dude is highkey a music snob. Like he’ll listen to a song in any genre but it better be a fucking ��S tier song✨ or he will Judge. Will never concede the aux cord.

Meanest tutor ever. Will have you crying at the kitchen table asking the same question till you get it right. “If Johnny has 5 apples! 😤” typa tutor. But his notes are amazing and he’ll always lend them without question.

We already know how I feel about clingy Tsukki. But let me reiterate: this man is obsessed with being in your personal space. Like ”I’m gonna go take a shower.” ”….. without me? 😒”

But he also respects your space when you need it. Just don’t be gone too long or he’ll get lonely. He’s highkey touch starved.

An impeccable driver. And unreasonably hot while doing it. I’m talking hand on thigh, arm on headrest when reversing, will do your seatbelt HOT. And you’re his favourite passenger princess. Tsukki refuses to let anyone adjust your seat. If they’re feeling cramped they’re more than welcome to sit in the back, or even better, walk.

A great cook. He lets you be the taste tester when you cook together. If you can’t cook this is the one time he has an amount of patience teaching you. He is, however, a horrendous baker. Tried to make you valentines day chocolates and you had to throw out the tea towels cos they somehow ended up singed. You laughed till you cried he’d have been hurt about it if you weren’t so beautiful

Likewise, his actions speak louder than his words when it comes to affection. Obviously he compliments you and tells you he loves you, but only on special occasions like birthdays, christmases and blowing your back out ten ways till sunday. But mostly he’ll show you how much he cares by treating you like royalty. Carries your bags while calling you weak, says ‘no’ every single time you ask for a favour but does it anyways, takes you for walks to your favourite ice cream shop and pays for both of you while you bitch about a character in your dumb show that he hates (read: binges with you and gets invested in)

A slip it in while you watch a movie kinda dude. At this point the Netflix subscription is for show. There is literally no point in trying to watch something with him because your legs will be over his shoulders way before the halfway mark.

Much like his actions speaking louder than words, he’s willing to try anything once if you suggest it. This has led to a very interesting bedroom life. There were obviously things that you both decided weren’t for you, but Tsukki would do anything to please you even if he’d never confess it. Once you asked for a personalised dildo so you could have his dick whenever you wanted as a joke. It was there by next week.

Loves fucking you in public. You guys are banned from THREE different lingerie stores. You’re 65% sure he only takes you out so much so he can find somewhere to fuck you, since it’s how most of your dates end. The Karasuno gang clocked you two on a club night when Noya and Tanaka took a badly timed trip to the bathroom. They are constantly embarrassed when you two go missing for half an hour and return dishevelled.

Send. Him. Nudes 😩 Especially when he’s busy. He sends them back and holy shit are they art personified. He heard “don’t send dick pics, send cumshot vids with the sound on” and boy did he run with it in the best of ways. Has a password protected folder for all the filth you send each other.

Speaking of nudes, his dick is so pretty. He doesn’t even manscape. It’s just long and slightly curved with just the right amount of hair. Also so much pre-cum. He was actually a little embarassed by it until he saw how much you loved licking him clean.

Pull his hair and listen to him moan. If you pull it hard enough when he’s close he will just cum. He definitely wasn’t embarrassed the first time it happened. Now it’s sort of a game to see if you can use it to get him off when he’s going down on you.

He’s reconciled with the fact that he has a volleyball brain. Seeing you at his games, and feeling your eyes on him as he jumps blocks is like foreplay to him. It’s always a race to see how quickly he can get you naked and under him after a match.

I will undoubtly have more thoughts on this, because I spend an unreasonable amount of time thinking about Tsukishima Kei

[darkwood-sleddog]

more and more i become of the opinion my dogs are not reactive to strange dogs but in fact it is unreasonable to expect them to NOT be reactive when the dogs we pass are unwalked, understimulated rural hellions that thrash at the windows of their houses, bark at us and follow us for entire lengths of properties, snarl at us, run at us with tense body language etc.

is this because a neighbor (who does skijor!) moved in half mile down the road from us a half a year ago with the most polite, unreactive dog that my dogs glance calmly at as they walk by? as it is unrestrained (no underground fence) on the property? absolutely is.

is this because a few years ago a neighbor's very nice pitbull mix got out and when it walked up to us with polite calm body language my dogs reacted just as calm and we were able to walk this dog home? absolutely is.

like i am a human woman and have lived in areas with much larger populations than i do now. i remember being followed by strangers, yelled at by strangers in aggressive ways. it made me tense and yes...reactive in those moments to ensure my own safety and needs were met. but was it my fault for having to react that way? To call friends and family and be on the phone any time that i walked alone? to check in when i got to where i was going? to bring pepper spray and iron knuckles to walk less than 10 minutes away from home? I don't think it is. Rather it's the failure that allows that behavior towards me which is at fault. i should not have had to carry those things with me. or call a single soul.

same with my dogs. my dogs aren't reactive, i'm just the only person who walks my damn dogs in my rural neighborhood. even though we can walk for 4+ miles either way on safe dirt roads out of our driveway before we reach pavement. nobody else. walks. their. fucking. dogs. yes i manage my dogs behaviors, it can be embarrassing when they get riled up, but know what? it is not their fault so many other dogs fucking SUCK. and it is not those dogs' fault that they suck either. i encountered more politely behaved dogs when i lived in the suburbs and city than i do now because those dogs at least had some sort of experience with being around other dogs (passing them on the sidewalk even) out of necessity. Rural people truly just throw their dogs outside and expect that to be enough. if you're lucky they install a little underground fence that will maybe keep fido in the yard (like uwu WE don't want to have a look at a fence and we're going to make all our neighbors GUESS if our dog might run into the road at them uwu).

[grossgeck]

sooo.. any headcanons about ca//ine to share with us? very interested <3 - 🕯️🦋

HHHHHH Okie okie bare with me because my brain is a little low tonight but here we go:

-The digital food he provides for everyone in the circus does not…..set in well to say the least. His original idea was to make the food more “realistic” enough to help keep the crew’s sanity. Buuuuut that just ended up backfiring with gaseous sideffects (And no, he is not immune to this).

-Because of the whole goofy, cartoon logic the whole Di//gital C//ircus has, his gas is actually visible with reddish colorful clouds. Maybe even accompanied with one of those stock sfxs mixed in with the fart onomatopoeia (Idk, just to be a lil funni). Unfortunately these are never “silent but de adly”, but rather “Unreasonably loud and boisterous.”

-This also doesn’t stop his flatulence from smelling bad either. Perhaps not the foulest out of all in the circus, but still enough to take you by surprise.

-The sound is kinda bubbly, with a hint of bass quality to it

-Being a ringleader, he prefers to keep up his energetic and rather over-the-top personality. So he refuses to casually let loose in front of the rest of the team.

-That being said, trying to hold in his gas is kind of a chore. Since he’s not used to the sensation of pressure building up in his stomach. Which eventually does lead to the occasional slip up.

-Anytime he does break wind around anyone he just tries to hide the embarrassment. Laughing it off and telling a corny joke or two, although if he had an actual face then he would be blushing like a tomato.

-Pretty much the ONLY person in the circus that he has farted around the most is Bu//bble (Most likely because Bu//bble doesn’t have a nose……I think?)

-Admittedly ripping ass after long day of holding back is pretty relieving to him. To the point that he’ll make some exaggerated relaxed face, tongue sticking out and all.

Uhhhhh ye that’s all I got :>

[goodluckclove]

WIP Tag Game!

Whoa tagged again by the brilliant @ivaspinoza! Check her out if you're down for what I imagine to be some intense bloodsucking existentialism!

I'll do this for all of Songbird Elegies as a whole. I'm on book two right now - Blind Trust comes out June 20th!

Read below to hear some things about the origins of the series that I haven't actually said yet and probably won't say again.

1. What was the first part of your wip that you created?

Funny story! I hadn't written anything tangible for months since leaving my terrible copyrighting job. I was absolutely miserable. I ended up leaving my second job because of a medication problem and spent a week in bed detoxing off of Seroquel withdrawal - bad bad don't do that if you can help it. After that I fell into recovery and just had no idea what to do with my days.

The turning point was when I sent an email going fully no-contact with my across-the-board abusive parents. They did some awful things across the course of my life and I'm still spending a good chunk of time making up for their ridiculous medical neglect. I might need throat surgery because of them. Not great! But anyways, I sent that email and wrote the first 15 pages of Blind Trust later that day, sitting on the floor while my wife took a nap on the couch. It just came out. Wife said they liked it so I just kept going.

Three months and two data losses later and the first draft was done!

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

I have so many Songbird Elegy playlists oh my God. It's hard to say, and the answer will change, but right now it's "Love Me, Normally" by Will Wood.

3. Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?

They're all very important to me for different reasons. Scott is the one I tend to talk about the most because he captures a lot of mania and upbeat romanticism, qualities of myself that I value despite the obvious faults. Edgar is just as important, but they represent a lot of my current struggles and I'm doing a lot of healing and processing through them which is good but less - you know - fun?

Tenzin reminds me of my wife with her quiet stoicism. Katy reminds me of my older sister and everything she sacrificed to keep me and my siblings alive. She's more of a mother to me than my own mother. My sister is actually the first person to finish Blind Trust after I finished it.

4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

Disco Elysium maybe? Griffin and Sabine - has anyone else read that? The Witcher, but specifically the novels? Requiem for a Dream for later books. Tales of the City in terms of tone and character focus. Fleet Foxes and Hoizer and early Decemberists?

Good, warm soup. If you like a bowl of good, warm soup, you will enjoy Songbird Elegies.

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

Definitely Edgar's arc. Their experience with their metaphorical (or are they??) inner child and the abuse they've been working to escape and recover from has been hard to look at directly. Especially once I introduced Scott's mother, who's turned into a weird mix of the maternal figure I wish I had and the one I feel I could've been if I chose that path.

Yesterday I found myself writing how I wish it went when my wife met my parents, through Scott and Edgar meeting Scott's mom. The sharing of parental pride and affection despite potential embarrassment. It's a cute scene, but there's a lot of grief in there for me. I wonder if it'll show.

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

Wilford Brimley is Katy's pet Persian cat. He is old and weird and a little fucked up. I had to edit his introduction in Blind Trust because it was six (small) paragraphs and Wife told me that was unreasonable (skill issue), but I can include some canon info:

He shoves his paw under the bathroom door while people are in the bathroom

He likes feet

Edgar sometimes shares little bits of cheese with him

Once he fell asleep in Edgar's lap but then peed in his lap and just kept sleeping in the piss

Edgar treat him like a weird cousin he has to make conversation with during holidays

Wilford thinks he's his brother and an equally fucked up cat

7. How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

Cars mostly! Edgar has a shitty used car that's always close to breaking down. Katy has a newer car that's still used, but she takes very good care of it - I think it's a Fiat. I think Tenzin probably uses the car Scott's Dad left behind after he died, which is a vintage Cadillac convertible that Scott's Mom fixed up.

Scott is the only one without a license since he essentially has a magical dissociative disorder and hasn't yet felt safe behind the wheel. In Blind Trust he's taken every form of public transit to cross the country. I think when he was younger he used to skateboard to get around Bluerose.

8. What part of your wip are you working on rn?

I'm close to 40k into book two!

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?

I have hopes that people will enjoy the tenderness of it. I'm like a reverse-whump ace writer, in that I've written a series that's aggressively pro-comfort and recovery. People start off in pretty sorry states and then make the difficult effort to put themselves and each other back together.

There's explicit ace representation in Scott and aroace rep in Katy (she doesn't know it yet though shhh). Edgar comes out as Agender and changes pronouns midway into the series, but still keeps presenting as androgynous/masc leaning. There's diversity in body types and gender identities in a way that feels warranted to me - Scott has Klinefelter's and grew up taking T, and he made a best friend that came out so she could take her E with him. Same goes with disabilities in prominent characters, though the main four focus on what I have personal experience in.

As a disabled queer writer I hope to make a series that tells a fantastical story about people like me that doesn't pander specifically to my market.

10. What are your hopes for your wip?

I hope people read it. I hope they like it. It'd be cool if I could talk to people about it. I've been pretty deep in the Songbird Elegy fandom for some time now haha.

On a more serious note I hope there's a market for non-sexualized romances that are still hyper intimate. I know I'm into it but I'm still not sure if other people are. I'd like to create more media about positive and fulfilling ace relationships, both romantic and platonic. I'm tired of people seeing that type of life as a loss. Any healthy companionship is not a loss.

I want people to read Songbird Elegies and think about the love in their lives and in themselves. All of it, in every way. Yeah.

I tag @ryns-ramblings! I wanna hear about your thing!

[thesinglesjukebox]

OLIVIA RODRIGO - "VAMPIRE"

The Jukebox has risen from the grave...

[7.08]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Sophomore albums--and especially their lead singles--are so tricky because expectations are lofty and unreasonable. Artists need to appeal to their original fanbases without pigeonholing themselves; experiment with new sounds without alienating their original fanbases; create new aesthetics without sacrificing visual continuity; attain virality without being a flash in the pan. "Vampire" achieved all of this and more. On one hand, it's a melancholy ballad à la "Drivers License"; on the other hand, it's a ever-evolving three-minute distillation of her full pop-rock singer-songwriter range from SOUR. The songwriting's emotional intimacy feels instantly familiar, but more mature and lived-in. Rodrigo sounds Disney enough, but the chorus climaxing with "fame fucker" is an electrifying reminder that she's moved on, and invites just enough speculation as to who the song is about while avoiding Sabrina Carpenter and Joshua Bassett levels of specificity. The balladry of "Vampire" will sound good during karaoke, on car rides with parents, and on future seasons of The Voice; but its Hannah Montana, Elton John, and Queen-esque bridge is also snippy and clever enough to become a TikTok trend. It's extraordinary how Olivia was able to get this balance right without sounding over-calculated. We're witnessing the birth of a generational talent, and if there's any justice in the pop world, one day we'll look back on "Vampire" as the moment we knew Olivia Rodrigo wasn't going anywhere. [8]

Alex Ostroff: The most interesting thing about "Vampire" is the gap between what it convinces you it's doing and what it's actually doing. The introductory piano chords and initial aesthetics send a message to the audience that this is "Drivers License, Part 2" -- an earnest ballad that tells a real, personal, relatable story of heartbreak. Except it isn't that at all. Olivia's debut single was a particular narrative whose songwriting hinged on Swiftian levels of detail, but "Vampire" is much vaguer and relies on broad strokes and tropes about predatory older men and the Hollywood machine to fill in the gaps. This evolution is probably a good thing, though, because instead of writing a song that incentivizes fans to engage in close readings and lore about her personal life, Rodrigo leans all the way into her theatre-kid dorkiness in a way that not even Ariana has let herself do on record. By the time "Vampire" builds to the hammering piano chords and the over-the-top backing vocals, it become very obviously a cheesy rock opera 11-o'clock number. That makes it hamfisted and embarrassing, but also the first sign that GUTS would be less "diaristic" and more Olivia chewing scenery and acting her way through songs, selling every line reading for the seats at the back of the theatre. That's secretly her real strength. [7]

Will Adams: Olivia Rodrigo has never clicked with me, despite all evidence suggesting that she should. A few listens of GUTS earlier this year helped me pinpoint the main reason: her musical theater pedigree often manifests as overly edited, everything-in-its-place songwriting that clashes with the messiness of the stories she's telling. "Vampire" operates exactly like her debut single: a studied ballad that goes from tinkling piano to an urgent pulse, to the big climax before curtain call. The neat packaging only makes the clumsy moments stick out more, like the mixed metaphor of "sold me for parts as you sunk your teeth into me" arriving at exactly the worst time. [5]

Alfred Soto: I prefer my undead tropes campier and faster. [4]

Leah Isobel: The lyric on the page is two words: "Bloodsucker/Famefucker." Olivia sings it as four: "Blood, sucker/Fame, fucker." During her breakout year, she spun a relatively low-profile relationship into tabloid fodder via sheer force of will and became a star in the process. For its first minute, "Vampire" seems to repeat the same set of ideas: lugubrious swells of piano, a throatily emotive lead vocal that leaps up into the chorus. But unlike "Drivers License," this song is characterized by a new sense of paranoid shadow-play, an omnidirectional viciousness that drives its accelerating energy. By briefly inhabiting the form of her breakout hit, "Vampire" literally reanimates her past. By supercharging it into a rock opera, the song reveals that her past work was always, on some level, a performance, an exaggeration: a lie. She surveils the wreckage that her pen has wrought; she wonders, to others and to herself, "how do you lie?" The chorus is the answer. Fame demands blood. [7]

Rose Stuart: I think I get Olivia Rodrigo now. "Vampire" feels like musical theatre, a perhaps unintentional Queen pastiche that uses its increasing momentum to move from depression to rage. In a year with so many big songs about breakups, "Vampire" is the only one that is honest enough to scream out its pain instead of hiding behind bravado. Its only flaw is that Rodrigo stops one foot too soon, ending the song when it is amping up rather than riding the crescendo to its full conclusion. If you're going to do an anguished "Bohemian Rhapsody," you need to leave space for some headbanging. [8]

Brad Shoup: From her frequent dips into rippity-rap delivery to her tendency to make even her best asides feel workshopped, there's more than a little Broadway about Rodrigo. "Vampire" feels like the deflating power ballad at the back end of an Act I: a sour realization that has to be swished around for a while. When she's really spitting bile, it feels self-directed, and it's all the more poignant for it. The ending (fists pounding on loop) is maybe the only way to end a pop version of a rock-opera track; the real deal would have had an instrumental solo to spell Rodrigo off. [6]

Katherine St Asaph: It is very personally funny to me how Olivia Rodrigo recorded a song called "Vampire" that sounds, at least in the beginning, like Christina Perri's Twilight ballad "A Thousand Years." But, of course, "Vampire" is not meant to be funny at all. The song is a product of Rodrigo's musical theater background -- maybe Chicago's "Nowadays" in chords and A Chorus Line's "What I Did For Love" in emotional arc. Musical theater shares more with pop music than detractors of either admit, and "Vampire" is Rodrigo's version of Broadway's version of opera's tragic heroine arias. (So is "Praying," with which "Vampire" also shares a lot.) You've heard many of these songs; they mark their characters' final acts. They derive their power from an unspoken assumption: that one's story isn't truly real unless one sings it into existence, preferably over a recognizable ballad arrangement, with nodule-causing volume and superhuman virtuosity. The more you perform your pain, the more the audience will believe it. This triumph is always compromised, especially for a woman whose story is how she was hurt (c.f. Opera, or the Undoing of Women). But "Vampire" has another triumph, a meta-triumph: this isn't Rodrigo's final act. She may not even be done with Act 1. [7]

Frank Falisi: "Theater kid," as a moniker, exists in opposition to both its parts: not arty enough to be theater, not free enough to be kid. Posturing is expected, cliqueyness pervades, but between those obvious limitations is the opportunity provided by the grand gesture, which is to say: ascension. What makes a good dressing-room anthem? A certain sense of dramatic flamboyance, all the better for our impersonatory urges to inhabit. This accounts for "Bohemian Rhapsody," obviously, but also fare both Hot Topicier ("Welcome to the Black Parade'' dropped the year our spring musical was Sweet Charity) and more food-court block party. Do you remember the peculiar joy of hearing "Irreplaceable" drifting through the canned cleaner smells and chirpy family drama of a vast public space? The sublime is out there in the air! Reach through the fried food smells and teenage ennui! Maybe that's the key: all good dressing-room songs could get equal play at the mall. Pop has always thrived on hemi-anonymity. Making these fantasies front and center in our vast pageant of overdriven hormonal imaginings was a first step toward personal curation; I knew a kid who repped Jethro Tull's "Locomotive Breath" so hard that it elicited the same pre-show squeals as "Drops of Jupiter." We just wanted to know you loved it--that energy was what these hidden and unstable moments of outburst were about. "Vampire" has all the cellophane grand guignol of a theater kid unbothered by the designation, an Evanescence and Mika-biting kiss-off with a delirious chorus that keeps reaching up, pushing Rodrigo's formidable voice into the territory any songwriters hope to get an instrument; when a voice is that far and comfortably in the realm of its limit, emotion sheds right off. I don't think we should remember our puerile joys as any less honest than the ones we look for in our maturity. I wouldn't want to go back to the dressing room--I can listen to "Vampire" whenever I want--but it's nice to imagine someone from Pippin or (yuch) The Addams Family, vibrating, too much makeup: "can I show you this song?" [10]

Taylor Alatorre: A Three Minutes Hate session that's structured like a Disney villain song from the perspective of the hero -- which, as with most Disney villain songs, ends up making the designated bad guy seem more glamorous and enticing than he probably is. Fears of an aimless piano dirge are dispelled after the first third, but the steady pile-up of dramatic signifiers isn't much of an improvement. Loudness and an indistinct busyness are used as crude synonyms for emotional tumult, and the quiet-loud dynamics feel unearned in a song that begins in the same lyrical register that it ends. It's not that Rodrigo is too young or inexperienced to play the Lana-esque ingénue songwriter; it's just that, for whatever reason, she's more herself when she's doing straight-ahead power pop songs that carry the risk of an IP lawsuit. [3]

Andrew Karpan: "Vampire" is pure Olivia-core, her big tent pop-punk sound, which can be heard almost coalescing here. It also evokes her own school of soundalikes, like say Chappell Roan. [7]

Aaron Bergstrom: It's a song full of big theatrical moments (the "How do you lie?" Greek chorus, the the little glissando into the off-to-the-races bridge), but the understated epiphany comes at the end of the second verse, when the instrumentation drops out for Olivia to deliver an almost perfectly monotone "'cause girls your age know better." She has more to say, but it's already over. That's the stake to the heart right there. [8]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: In high school, I learned how much I loved to love. Blame it on my father: after seeing him tell my mom in the most mundane of circumstances--during car rides, at the dinner table--that she was "the most beautiful woman in the world," I recognized that I, too, could be the same sort of unabashedly affectionate person to those around me. None of the other Asian men I knew were like this, and none were as visibly happy, and so it only made sense that when I had my first girlfriend I'd be first to say "I love you." Two days later, a friend one year our senior convinced her to dump me. I shouldn't say stuff like this, I was told, and it was in our best interest to cut ties as to prevent my further heartbreak. My immediate reaction was confusion: All the songs we sang together felt just as emotionally severe, just as intimate. What made it worse when the words were my own? My remaining teenage years would be defined by a reticence for emotional expression. But I still had these models in my life--my 1st-generation Korean American parents, the music I spent every waking moment devouring--that convinced me to live otherwise. It's a testament to "Vampire" and its go-for-broke maximalism that I recalled all this. More than any other pop song this year, it makes a point to direct attention to its vocal delivery: every casual lilt and swerving cadence is a window into a complex web of emotions. Rodrigo's other singles hint at this through clever wordplay, but "Vampire" and its deathly serious musical theater make it actually feel consequential. Even with the devastation she feels, my main takeaway is the same I had 15 years ago: the only life worth living is one of overflowing, unwieldy passion. [10]

Stephen Eisermann: Olivia oversings this in the best way possible and wrings every possible emotion out of each note. [8]

Jonathan Bradley: Bloodletting over a bloodsucker, for which Rodrigo recreates the venom and hurt that made "Drivers License" so gripping a listen, though round two shifts the balance towards the former. It's not that rage is less compelling a mode for Rodrigo, but her logorrheic barbs speak to resentments specific to her and her target; without the granular detail that characterised "Drivers License," there's also little for we onlookers to grab a hold of. When the kick starts thumping, the song attains some get-up-and-go that's not entirely thwarted by the mushy and muffled production. The pounded piano chords can't quite crescendo with the high end filtered out. "Fame-fucker, bleeding me dry like a goddamn vampire" is a fun thing to shout, though. [6]

John S. Quinn-Puerta: Rodrigo says "fuck" the way a six-year-old wields a hammer: aimlessly and with delusions of competence. [4]

Edward Okulicz: "Make us Drivers License: The Musical Theatre Experience," asked nobody in particular. But Olivia Rodrigo obviously knew the demand was there and has given us the curtain raising (d-d-d-d-d), climax reprise (dundundundundundun) and denouement (DUN! DUN! DUN! DUN!) all in one. It's catchy, her lyrics again hit that sweet spot of authentic teen tantrum but relatable to an adult, and her performance is both angry and a little bit scared. What, you expect to see a vampire and be angry, not scared? [10]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Love the bit where it goes "DUNDUNDUNDUNDUNDUNDUNDUNDUNDUNDUNDUNDUNDUN." More songs should do that! It's great every time! [8]

Crystal Leww: Earlier this year, I had to get an MRI done ahead of a surgery. At 6:45 in the morning while I was lying there, covered in nothing but a sheet and some paper shorts, freezing cold, the MRI tech found a vein in my right arm after poking around for five minutes in my left arm. The tech asked me if I wanted to listen to music while getting my MRI. I said no, I'm good, then immediately reconsidered after thinking about being kinda freaked out while lying very still in a giant magnet for like 30 minutes. The tech asked me what I wanted to listen to: Jazz? Classical? Top 40? Yeah, the last one, I told them. They put headphones over my ears, then loaded me into the machine. Turns out they can't give you real headphones because it's a giant magnet, and "Top 40" really just meant The Entire Olivia Rodrigo Album. So I just laid there listening to loud-ass MRI banging noises for 30 minutes and listening to Olivia Rodrigo through speakers that sounded like they were from the '60s, blown out, and shoved underwater, and constantly interrupted every five or six minutes with a robo-voice lady going "hold your breath for five...four...three..." I think this is one of the most boring songs on the album -- a [2] -- but I don't think that a single other American pop star in 2023 could make an album I could recognize so clearly under these conditions. [4]

Michael Hong: "vampire" is SOUR's palette made darker and sexier, the ballad rendered theatrical. Every movement is felt. The sighed "look at you, cool guy, you got it" brings the image of a sly smile, the collapsing scream of "fame fucker" carries every bit of vitriol, and the builds and drops of the piano are a nauseating rollercoaster. At the center is Rodrigo leaning both into and away from her youth. She fixates on the simple, almost juvenile metaphor but demonstrates newfound maturity: desperately attempting to ensure that self-deprecating doesn't mean self-loathing, and conceding her own faults without redirecting blame. [7]

Ian Mathers: While "Vampire" is good, it feels an awful lot like the kind of song that benefits from and/or relies on the listener being able to slot it into place in the narrative of Olivia Rodrigo, Narrator/Protagonist. Not a complaint! But while I can appreciate what's going on (the "sold me for parts" is really good, including how she performs it), I am struck by a nagging sense that I don't Get It yet, the way I suspect I will at some point. [7]

Scott Mildenhall: Is it about Chip Hunkley? Jaeden Jaxons? Esio Quaywurtz? It could even be the industry forces that would leech from them if they existed. Perish the thought and enjoy the ride, though: this wooden rollercoaster of a song thrills with its craft, character and momentum. Yes, they probably have ones with jetpacks now, but who wants to feel weightless when you have juddery? [8]

Jackie Powell: The crew at Switched on Pop introduced me to the thought that the track paints the image of the protagonist trying to escape from her antagonist (the vampire) in an old gothic castle. Imagine Rodrigo, in one of those white medieval dresses that's too long, running for her life up a tower. Not all songs have this capability -- actually, most of them do not. Rodrigo and her writing partner Dan Nigro succeed because of the way they play with the track's dynamics and how intentional they are when they introduce different sounds. Their entrances are grand but pristine. The switches from piano (literally and in the dynamic sense) in the first verse, to the slight stringy synths in the first chorus, then to the percussive bass drum in verse two, are dramatic but not overstated. By the time Rodrigo hits that second chorus, the drum kit is fully present, and the listener can imagine her jogging faster through the castle. By the bridge she's full-on running and making her damndest great escape, and by the final crash of the cymbals, she's done it. The most potent phrase in "Vampire" is obviously "fame fucker," a mature statement way beyond Rodrigo's years. If only Britney Spears had known it, she might have avoided Kevin Federline. Yes, I've been listening to The Woman in Me on audiobook. The Federline chapters were so vampiric. [8]

Nortey Dowuona: Vampires aren't real. There are plenty of greedy, selfish, and pale people in the world who are quite happy to take your days, your hours, your minutes. They quite happily crowd into your life, settle so deep, and nestle so close that even honestly engaging with them will drive you crazy. Forget trying to get them to stop hurting you, stop lying to you, stop betraying you. They just want more and more of you until you can no longer feel them drain you -- just collapse and sit, staring off into space. And once the last chorus kick-thuds painfully 16 more times, it finally collapses into silence because Olivia has shaken the man loose, but she is so depleted and uneasy she now has to keep watching around for him in the night. Vampires aren't real. Men are. [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[jisungsmochi]

nct dream reaction: them getting jealous when you are getting closer to another member

okay trust me, i’m writing some new fics, i just finished this first so here it is 

mark:

i feel like he is the type of have A LOT of trust in his partner - without trust, he wouldn’t even be in a relationship with someone

he wouldn’t mind you having other guy friends, just as long as you were clear about your relationship with them

he knew that you and renjun were friends prior to your relationship

so naturally, he was aware that you guys were already close

but whenever he saw renjun lean in closer towards you whenever you were talking

or whispering small inside jokes into your ear

he couldn’t help but feel annoyed?

of course he trusted you, and he trusted renjun

but the sight of you two being so close made him feel uneasy

so he would opt to leave the room, not wanting to do or say anything he would regret

as i mentioned, he has a lot of trust in his partner, he wouldn’t want them to not trust him in return

you would run after mark the moment you heard the door close behind him

you approached him cautiously, your fingers softly tapping his shoulder

“hey, are you okay? did i say something?”

“no you didn’t say or do anything at all. it’s just me” he shrugged, fuelling your concern

“what’s up? you know you can tell me” mark begins to feel slightly embarrassed at this point

“i-i was jealous of you and renjun, okay? i know it’s silly” it caught you off guard, you never really saw mark as the jealous type

but this only meant that he really liked you

you shook your head playfully, wrapping your arms around his torso, smiling into his chest

“it’s not silly, you can tell me how you feel. i actually prefer it, rather than you leaving and staying quiet, you know?” mark just nods, his hand rubbing your back softly

he was so lucky to have someone like you in his life, everything felt complete

renjun:

hmm i have some mixed feelings about how he would react

i feel like he would go for someone who is independent and has their own strong personality

basically he would prefer a partner that isn’t too dependent on him, you know?

but when he sees how social / close you’ve become with jaemin, he’s about to lose it completely

jaemin was naturally flirty, and you were naturally enticing to be around

that mix was not a good look in renjun’s eyes

he wanted nothing more than to pry you away from his friend

but he didn’t want to be labelled as the ‘possessive’ or ‘overbearing’ boyfriend

you would always shift your eyes to make contact with renjun’s, assuring him that you were still paying attention to him

but it still wasn’t enough for him to stop feeling jealous

once jaemin laid his hand on your shoulder and moved closer to you (a little too close to comfort for renjun) — he snapped

renjun would excuse the both of you, pulling you along with him out of the room

“i-i don’t like jaemin touching you like that”

you found it slightly amusing that he was jealous. of course you took it as a friendly touch, but you understood how it looked to renjun

“that’s just how he is. you’re the only one i want to hold hands with” you link your hands with his tightly

he starts to go quiet

“and you’re the only one i want to kiss” you peck his cheek gently “like this”

renjun felt his cheeks heat up from the touch, immediately feeling shy infront of you

“o-okay, i just got jealous, that’s all” he pouted

“i know, and that’s okay! just remember that i’m all yours, and only yours, okay?”

jeno:

very very protective

makes it clear that he can get jealous but you had never seen it first hand

so when he saw you laugh a bit too hard at one of haechan’s jokes, he felt his heart slightly ache

‘i’m not as funny as haechan’

‘they looks so much happier with him’ he would think to himself

despite his tough exterior, jeno had a lot of insecurities inside

he doesn’t think he has ever seen you laugh that hard at one of his jokes before

so he starts to get quiet, distracting himself with his phone

suddenly the laugher stops as you make you way to sit down next to your boyfriend

he honestly would be a bit petty at first, only responding with one word answers, until haechan calls him out

“dude, get off your phone and talk to your partner”

“dude, how about you stop flirting with my partner then?” jeno grunts, causing the whole room to go quiet.

you felt so embarrassed, apologising to haechan quietly before dragging jeno away from the group

“what was that? it wasn’t cool, you have to apologise to him!” you folded your arms, not comprehending how jeno was feeling

“what? i’m not apologising. you obviously enjoyed his flirting!”

“jeno, you’re being quite unreasonable right now. it was just some harmless jokes, nothing more” you tried to reassure him

he knew you were right, but he was stubborn at times

“look at me” you brought his face between your palms

“go and apologise to haechan, and then we can go home and cuddle, and also have a deep talk about all of this. sound good?” you suggested

jeno nodded, placing a soft kiss to your forehead

he was whipped for you, this only solidified how he truly felt

haechan:

oh the pettiest of them all

would make it known he was NOT happy with you leaning in so close to mark

you were at a formal function for the celebration of their new album dropping

a lot of people attended, meaning you had to lean in closer than usual just to hear someone speak

haechan couldn’t hide his jealousy when you slapped mark’s shoulder playfully

“jeez, stop shooting holes into mark’s head!” jaemin joked, causing haechan to start glaring at him

renjun tried his best to call down the heated boy

“you know mark wouldn’t ever try anything, don’t get it all twisted in your head, alright?”  

haechan just nodded, he knew renjun was just speaking facts

you eventually went to seek out your boyfriend, catching him by the drinks table

“hey, where have you been? i was looking everywhere for you”

“clearly not everywhere”

that caught you off guard

“excuse me? what’s your deal?”

haechan sighs at you, knowing that he shouldn’t have been snappy towards you

“let’s just not make it a bigger deal than it is, i was just jealous of how close you and mark were tonight. you barely talked to me, that’s all” he tried to shrug it off, but you knew him better than that

you placed a firm squeeze to your boyfriend’s shoulder

“if it upset you so much, you know you could have just talked to me? i would never intentionally ignore you like that, i was just so excited for tonight”

haechan nods, pulling you to his side slowly, his arm latched to your waist

“i know and i’m sorry, would you care to dance?” he slightly bit the side of his lip as you nodded enthusiastically

“of course i would” you would drag him to the dance floor as you swayed along to a random ballad playing through the speakers

the rest of the night was full of laughter and smiles once haechan realised he was worried for no damn reason

jaemin:

i see him as someone who can get easily jealous

if another guy even looked at you the wrong way, jaemin has his eyes on them

i feel like he does have self control tho and would choose to not act upon his jealousy

but one day he just snapped

you were playing video games with jeno while you were waiting for jaemin to come home

it wasn’t unusual for you to do so

but one time you didn’t greet jaemin when he came through the door because you were too engrossed in the game

he wouldn’t say anything at first, understanding that you just wanted to beat jeno’s ass

so he makes himself a sandwich before sitting down on the couch with you, pulling you to his side

you slightly shrug him off,

“hey, let me finish this round” you don’t even look at him, which made jeno chuckle

jaemin glared at his friend, but was still in shock by your reaction

“jaem, they’re good at this game, have you been teaching them?” jeno nudges you gently as he continued to play

jaemin was beyond pissed at this point

not only was his significant other ignoring him but his friend was sitting a little too close for his liking

he tries to grab your attention again, tugging on the sleeve of your hoodie, pressing his cheek to your shoulder

“baby, i missed you” he whispered in your ear, distracting you from the game, making you lose the round

“jaem, look what you did now!” you pout, turning to face him

jeno sensed there was tension and quickly scurried off to his own room

“i’m sorry i ruined your SUPER fun game with jeno” he scoffed

“oh please, you know we are just friends. the ONE time i don’t give you an ounce of attention, you wanna act up huh?”

jaemin was now pouting, fiddling with the sleeves of his sweater

you let out a sigh before moving to sit closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder

“i’m sorry, i was just getting jealous of how close you guys are now, i want you to play games with me instead! i can teach you everything he can!”

you shook your head before linking your fingers with his

“i know you can, how about tomorrow? the whole day will be just for you and me!” jaemin’s eyes gleamed at the thought, attacking you with hugs and kisses

‘well that was easier than expected’ you thought to yourself

chenle:

seems like the jealous type

idk i get them vibes ya know?

let’s say you invited jisung to go shopping with you while chenle had a different schedule

at first, he’d be like ‘oh yeah go for it!’ bc well, it was just jisung

he had nothing to be worried about

but once he saw you post multiple stories on instagram of yours and jisung’s day out, he couldn’t help but be filled with rage

from eating cute cafe desserts, to buying plushies and even going to the arcade together

chenle was upset to say the least

not only did he miss out on spending time with you, he felt you were slowly replacing him with his best friend

but of course that was the furthest thing from the truth

the tipping point was when jisung posted a mirror selfie of the two of you wearing matching bucket hats

chenle felt his heart ACHE

when you both returned to the dorms, chenle immediately snatched you away, refusing to even greet jisung

jisung stood there like 🧍🏻

anyways chenle would drag you to his room, shutting the door quickly

you were so mf confused

“be honest, do you like jisung more than me?”

you were flabbergasted, was he on crack?

“what? where is this coming from? of course i don’t like him more than you!”

chenle allowed himself to calm down before continuing, shouting wasn’t going to get him anywhere

“well then why did you do so many fun things with him today? you even got matching hats!” he frowned, folding his arms

“we were just hanging out as friends! i promise. and we actually bought you a hat too! i wanted us to all be matching, since we were like a trio. i didn’t know that upset you”

he felt like a complete idiot

“n-no i’m sorry i assumed things, please don’t hate me” chenle pulled you into his chest

“i could never hate you, even if i tried” you sighed, wrapping your arms around his torso

jisung:

oh boy

he’s the silent type,, he would want to avoid any awkward confrontation at all costs

he would bottle up his jealousy until one day he just explodes

i feel like jisung needs a lot of reassurance if he was in a relationship

he didn’t like the sinking feeling in his stomach whenever he saw you and chenle together

things such as playful hits to the shoulder or chest, loud laughter and friendly compliments were seen as subtle flirtations to jisung

you would always try your best to include jisung in your inside jokes with chenle but he’d always shrug it off

“nah it’s just a thing between you two”

comments like those, rubbed you the wrong way and you could tell chenle was slightly bothered too

each time you tried to ask jisung about it, he’d brush it off

“i don’t know what you’re talking about”

“are you sure? because you were kind of being cold to us, don’t you think?”

“doesn’t feel nice when you’re excluded, does it?” you were beyond confused

“can you please talk to me about what’s going on? i don’t like seeing you like this” you pull jisung to across from you on his bed

he avoided your eyes at all costs, fiddling with his rabbit plushie

“i’m jealous” he mumbled

“come again?”

“IM JEALOUS OKAY?” he threw his hands in the air hysterically, catching you off guard

“sometimes i don’t like how close you are with chenle. it seems like you are closer to him than me! i want to make you laugh like that, and i want to buy you nice things. and i want you to hit me playfully”

you listened closely to each concern

you brought your hand to enclose his, placing a soft kiss to his knuckles

“jisung, you’re the only person in this world that makes me laugh so hard that my ribs hurt. buying me nice things won’t change how i already feel towards you. and we can definitely try to be more playful with eachother” you started running your hands through his hair as he slowly shuffled closer to you

“t-thankyou, it’s nice to get it off my chest”

“of course, you have nothing to worry about” you placed a kiss to his forehead as you both spent the night cuddling

[thesolferino]

⤷ note: apologies for losing your request, anon, but thank you for requesting! this is my first time writing a full fic in second person, so bear with me, and i hope this is what you were looking for <3

The Great American Bake Off

pairing: corpse husband x gn!reader

word count: 3.6k

genre: fluff

summary: you’ve been jealous of rae and her closeness with your boyfriend since the dawn of time, but things change and friendships are made once she comes over for one hell of a cooking video.

Corpse, among many other things, was a man many wished to have.

It’s the truth; even if he didn’t have a YouTube channel through which millions kept up with everything from horror stories to Among Us gameplays, people would still turn heads and whisper whenever he spoke - that attention more than multiplied when he started blowing up and his social media presence grew.

With growth come numbers, and there are always people behind said numbers. Through them, Corpse makes wonderful friends - through them, you had met him, too. All the way back, during his horror narration days, you had grown to like him - really, who wouldn’t?

A DM you once sent after a few drinks, when you claimed to your friends you’d get the “deep-voiced man of your dreams” you often talked about and they, in turn, challenged you to message him, was nothing short of a joke and the idea of him responding was merely a pipe dream. What you hadn’t expected, however, was a response, which wrecked your brain at noon the next day, where your head throbbed with embarrassment, guilt, pride, happiness, a melt of hatred and gratefulness for your friends, panic and the remains of alcohol that tugged at every part of your skull.

It had turned out to be more than a great idea, though, because for the next few weeks you were constantly talking. You learned so much more than he let on in videos, and during late night calls you found out everything from his favorite clothing brand to his favorite color to his thoughts about his own mortality and then back to his favorite cereal. Audio calls and short voice messages turned into hours long FaceTimes that led you from friends to something more. And after a year or so of dating, you packed your bags and made it to sunny San Diego, ready to lay in his arms and sweat bullets.

Safe to say Corpse’s social media presence had its good sides. However, with all good things come bad things too, and you weren’t sure if the bad things were bad at all or you were simply too jealous.

Corpse made wonderful friends thanks to his YouTube channel. He met people he could confide in, meet, people he could talk to about his worst problems, people who would listen - he met people he could have fun with, with who he could forget all about the real world and his own issues, and simply laugh his heart away, play games until the late hours of the night.

If he had to name his closest ones, they would have to be Dave, Loey, maybe Mykie, possibly Jack, and Rae. And that is exactly where the root of the problem stood.

Rae is beautiful, and everyone who denies it must be either dumb or blind. She’s drop dead gorgeous, and funny, and kind, and smart, in a way that made you want to rip your hair out. You wanted to hate her so bad, because the jealousy ate away at you like a damn disease, but you couldn’t, because she was perfect Rae, and as much as you hated the fact she seemed to be perfect inside out, you just couldn’t hate her as her. It was impossible, you concluded.

You convinced yourself you weren’t jealous every time you heard him yelling or laughing at her from his office room - or at least you attempted to do so. Your lunch would turn sour and end up forgotten because you’d be way too focused on listening in on what he was doing and trying to make out what she was saying to even eat at the same pace you previously were. Jealousy ate away at you, no matter if you admitted it to yourself or not.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Corpse, of course. On one late night when you couldn’t sleep and neither could he, as per usual, you turned on a random comedy that you half-heartedly paid attention to, his fingers combing through the knots in your hair peacefully and the slow pace of the movie lulling you to sleep slowly. That is, before his phone rang and lit the mostly dark room. You managed to sneak a glance at the notification before he had, and the familiar bitterness seeped between your ribs as always upon seeing the name displayed at the top of the message, more than awake now.

You visibly stiffened when he laughed at the message and typed something back, shifting your head in his lap as some subconscious attempt at getting him to pay attention to you instead. He put his phone down and you huffed, eyes locked on the TV screen as you pretended to be extremely absorbed in the movie even though you weren’t quite sure of the difference between the protagonist and antagonist anymore. His hands didn’t return to your hair, and that somehow made you even more annoyed.

“What’s up?” Corpse quietly spoke up, barely over the volume over the already quiet movie.

“Nothing.” You said, quicker than you wanted to, and you bit your tongue in cringe when you realised it was an awful lie. Corpse seemed to think the same.

“That’s bullshit. Seriously, what’s wrong?” He asked, and was met with pure silence. In reality, you were hoping he’d simply never realise you were somewhat jealous, because you knew you were being stupid and unreasonable, but you couldn’t help wanting him all to yourself. Admitting it out loud made it so much more real, and so much more embarrassing that you would rather bury yourself alive than admit to being jealous of Rae, of all people.

After a few seconds of silence, save the laughter of characters on screen, he spoke again.

“Are you jealous?” The hint of a teasing tone in his voice made you want to rip your hair out of your skull. Was it really that damn hard to believe that yes, you were jealous of an extremely close friend of his? Was it a crime?

The clenching of your jaw seemed to give Corpse enough of a response, and his hands returned to running themselves through your hair as he giggled to himself. 

“What’s so damn funny?” You borderline spat, causing his movements to halt for a second before continuing with even louder laughter.

“I don’t know, just the idea of you being jealous of Rae is so funny. I’ve noticed the way you roll your eyes whenever I text her in front of you. You’re not exactly sneaky, you know?” His words made blood rush straight to your face, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. How long has he known this for?

“Sorry. I don’t…” you exhaled and attempted to smile. “I don’t know what’s up with me. I’m so jealous nowadays. I don’t even know why.”

“There’s enough of me to share with everyone, no worries baby.” he replied, teasing tone still yet to dissipate as you slap his knee in mock offense and he starts wheezing.

“Absolutely not! Fucking excuse you, I’m not sharing with anyone!” you gaped at him as he kept laughing.

That was the end of it - or at least Corpse thought so. Needless to say, he was wrong.

Your mood would instantly turn sour whenever he’d laugh at one of her messages, and you attempted to push down every eye roll whenever he’d sit on his phone, between your legs, back turned to you so you could see everything, and open Rae’s DMs again. Sometimes you managed, sometimes you couldn’t help it, but you did your best to do it whenever he wasn’t looking. Because you truly knew you were being unreasonable, especially whenever you have to relay situations like how he had to postpone a date one time because Rae asked him to play Rust for a bit longer and you almost ripped all your hair out of your skull in frustration back to your best friend who just turned Rae and Corpse into the villains in the situation because that’s what best friends are supposed to do.

Not like he was going out of his way to talk to her a concerning amount, they mostly talked in groupchats and on streams and that was only a few times weekly, but it did absolutely nothing to calm the green monster growing stronger in you every day, fed by every laugh she got out of him.

The green monster fucking loved it when Corpse excitedly announced to you that he’s finally meeting his friends for the first time, and by friends meaning Rae, Sykkuno and Karl. You, however… were far from impressed.

He paced around the room in excitement, a mix of obvious anxiety and joy evident on his face, and he fiddled with the strings of his hoodie with shaky hands as he very proudly announced that he would be the second tallest person in the room through a blinding, pearly grin, and seeing him so electrified couldn’t help but make you shut your jealous thoughts up, even if just for a little bit, and mirror his grin back to him.

What did, however, make you as anxious as him was when he announced they’d a) be coming to your shared apartment and b) making a cooking video - it sent you into a panicked mom mode as you dusted every corner of every room and vacuumed everything from the kitchen to the balcony and Corpse did nothing but record you as you anxiously rambled and laugh at you from his place on your bed.

When the dreaded Saturday finally came, and the first person to arrive, Sykkuno, rang your doorbell, you squeezed Corpse’s hand to stop him from nervously toying with his rings and opened the door, and you greeted the man like he was your own brother and not a person you’d seen probably a total of three times through the computer screen and someone who’s seen you maybe two times, from the pictures Corpse sent him, in your best attempt to make both of them more comfortable. It actually kind of worked - turns out Sykkuno is a pretty affectionate guy, too, and a conversation started as soon as he stepped in. Corpse gave you a look when you pulled away from Sykkuno’s half-hug, and you almost laughed out loud at the irony when his phone lit up with a notification from Rae announcing she was almost there at that exact moment.

She had kept true to her word; ten minutes or so later, another ring was heard and you gestured to Corpse to open it this time as you gave Sykkuno his cup of water and resisted any and every urge to roll your eyes or do something otherwise bitchy and stupid. Corpse did as told, and you watched them hug and listened to Rae squeal in excitement through the open door of the living room and decided to plaster a smile on your face for as long as you could muster before you remove yourself from the situation when they start filming.

Unfortunately for you, the first person she locked eyes with was exactly you, and they lit up an even prettier brown (if that was even possible) as she beelined to you and you barely got a greeting out before she engulfed you in a large hug, arms wrapping around your neck as she swayed both of you side to side.

“Oh my God, you must be Y/N! I’ve heard so much about you, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Rae cheered into your ear before she finally pulled back, before shooting an infectious grin at you that you couldn’t help but return back.

“All good things, I hope.” you chuckled as she moved to greeting Sykkuno, and nodded her head with an enthusiastic giggle of her own. You eyed Corpse for a second who simply leaned against the door frame, watching the whole thing unfold with somewhat of a proud smile on his face, before Rae turned back to you and your attention was on her again.

“Of course! Corpse is very much a simp for you, you know that?” She said and both you and Corpse laughed, especially him, who nodded his head in agreement as she sat back down, still beaming at you.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that.” you respond before turning back to Corpse. “Where’s Karl at?”

“He’ll be here in half an hour or so, he only landed recently.” he said. You nodded and moved to sit on a nearby chair to leave space for the guests on the couch.

Karl ended up arriving in twenty minutes and apprised everyone of the information that “his taxi driver is a psycho that, apparently, doesn’t fear stop signs or the police” before setting up the camera in your kitchen and tried his best to attach lapel mics on everybody (admittedly, it took way longer than it should’ve, but he eventually managed and that counted as a win in his book). You reluctantly agreed to be the judge of the finished product when they’re done cooking, and Karl was there for the purposes of being a cameraman and making jokes off screen so he agreed too, albeit way more enthusiastically than you.

The two of you sat behind the camera as the three of them lined up, Corpse wearing a mask and his signature eyepatch (that he didn’t really need, but those two did their job in preserving his privacy) and introduced what they were doing. Corpse was obviously very anxious, hands fidgeting constantly and shivering like a dog after a bath despite the hoodie he was wearing in 100 degree weather because of the shower of sweat that was now drying on his body, and that was partly why you were there, supportive smiles, encouraging cheers and all.

They were making Mexican ground beef tacos, and despite knowing Corpse can barely make a sandwich without setting at least two dishes on fire, you still cheered him on proudly and repeated he was part Mexican himself roughly 5 times a minute, claiming he was going to kill it.

“Kill it? More like kill one of us- CORPSE watch what you’re doing with that fucking knife! You’re proving my point!” Rae yelled at him as he giggled in delight, watching the woman gape at him in pure horror and Sykkuno watch his movements completely entranced as he played with the knife in his hands.

“You’re just mad that he’s going to make tacos fifty times better than you.” you said to Rae, chewing down on some M&Ms that Karl and you shared (both of you decided on a genius plan - you’re going to eat the whole bag before they’re done with cooking so you can claim you’re full and therefore can’t eat the atrocity that will most likely be the tacos).

“Don’t gas me up like that, Y/N, you are well aware I’m shit at cooking. Expect absolutely nothing from me.” he replied over the sizzling of the meat on the pan, throwing a whole spoonful of chili powder into it, earning loud yelling and scolding from your side and loud laughter from Rae.

“HALF A TEASPOON! Half a teaspoon, how have you not remembered this already?! We’ve made tacos a million times now, oh my God, you’re actually stupid.” you yelled at him, arms flailing in the direction of the seasoning to emphasise your ‘half a teaspoon’ point as Rae doubled over in laughter and Sykkuno looked into the pan with a concerned and somewhat afraid look. Just as he peeked in, the overwhelming smell of chili powder started biting away at his eyes, and he jumped away with a yelp.

“Jesus, Corpse!” he exclaimed, rubbing his eyes with his forearm as the whole room burst into laughter and Corpse suspiciously inspected his beef.

“What were you saying about your ‘Mexican king’, Y/N?” Rae asked, pulling out a few tortillas and putting them on the table. You huffed, grabbing another handful of M&Ms.

“Giving him up to God. He’s the only one who can help, at this point.” you said. She giggled in response and Corpse let out some sort of protesting sound and waved his knife around in complaint. “I don’t know who this man is. He broke into my kitchen and now I’m here.”

“Hey, I pay half of your rent!” he said, and you were about to reply but Rae dropped her meat into a pan full of overheated oil, and a loud hiss and some sort of a scream overtook the room as a cloud of steam shot into the air and she frantically looked around for the wooden spoon so the meat wouldn’t stick to the pan. You simply sat and laughed, eating the candy like it was popcorn and you were watching a shitty cooking show - it wasn’t that far from reality, really.

“Um, I just realised I don’t make many tacos, actually.” she said as she helplessly stirred the meat, turning to you with pleading eyes. “What seasoning even goes into this? Y/N, will you help me? Let’s team up against Corpse!”

You tilted your head in thought, but before you could even speak, Corpse spoke up.

“That’s not fucking fair, that’s-that’s against the rules.” he turned to you. “You won’t betray me, right?”

You laughed at him, adjusting in your seat. “I gave up on you ever since you added, like, 3 kilos of seasoning into the meat for no reason.” then you turned to Rae. “Sure, let’s do it, babe.”

Their loud yelling immediately started mixing, Rae’s cheers contrasting Corpse’s protesting. She stuck her tongue out at him meanwhile Corpse shot her the middle finger, and she turned back to you with a grin.

“Alright, what do I put in?”

Roughly twenty unnecessary and extremely long minutes later, the tacos were done, two each for each of them. Rae’s looked the best - probably because you guided her through the whole thing - next to Sykkuno’s, whose you were genuinely intrigued to try. While Corpse was arguing with Rae, he burned roughly half of his already ruined beef, and Karl made the very nice observation that it looked like a bird shat in a tortilla, which you proclaimed as the highlight of the video.

Since you and Karl claimed you were full, the three of them simply swapped tacos between each other as to be unbiased, and the two of you watched in amused suspense. You were actually quite interested to see what the end results were - you were first anxious and quite annoyed you even had to participate in the first place, because it meant losing your mind from jealousy, watching Corpse and Rae giggle and act all domestic while cooking, but jealousy simply dissipated somewhere half through the video as you watched the three argue if cheddar cheese belonged on tacos or not and Rae laugh at every stupid joke you cracked. Now, you sat, fully immersed as you stared at Sykkuno’s face; the poor guy ended up with the misfortune of having to try Corpse’s taco first.

“Zoom in, zoom in!” you whispered into Karl’s ear who complied and zoomed into Sykkuno’s face. He bit into the taco, chewing for a second before his face twisted in disgust and you began wheezing when he grabbed a tissue and spit it out, immediately grabbing his glass of water. Rae laughed at him as well, mouth full of his one, which she claimed she actually liked but it wasn’t as good as the “Y/NRae-co” as she proudly called it. Corpse silently ate Rae’s taco and refused to give a review on it because he was upset he got defeated, but the fact that he scarfed down the whole thing in a minute or so was enough of a review.

“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad.” Corpse exclaimed when he saw Sykkuno’s bite in the tissue, grabbing the second taco he made and biting down on it. The whole room burst into laughter when he roughly swallowed, tears obvious in the one eye that showed, because of the overly spicy beef.

“What are you motherfuckers laughing at? It’s not that bad, I stand by tacorpse.”

“Tacorpse is actually genius. The one good thing you came up with during the entirety of this video.” Rae said and Corpse mumbled a fuck you in response.

“Well, I think we can all agree that me and Y/N’s taco was clearly the best.” she said, clasping her hands together.

“I actually think mine was better.” Sykkuno said, to which she pushed his plate out of the frame.

“Nobody asked you anything.”

“Don’t bully Sykkuno, I’ll fucking kick you out.”

“Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure Y/N would kick you out before they’d let you kick me!” Rae said, accusingly pointing her taco in Corpse’s direction.

“Alright, let’s wrap up the video.” Karl laughed behind the camera, and the three of them all turned to properly face it and end the video.

“Thank you all so much for watching, this has been an… interesting video, to say the least. Uh, thank you to Karl for filming this whole disaster, thank you to Corpse,” Rae gestured in his direction, “for lending us his kitchen, thank you to Sykkuno for probably getting us more views on this video, and also a big thank you to Y/N, Corpse’s better half for making this video way more interesting and helping me make probably, like, the best taco I’ve ever made.” she grinned and you shoved a peace sign in front of the camera.

“If you liked this video, check out Sykkuno and Corpse’s channels, they will be linked down below, and please click like and subscribe to support the channel! Again, thank you all for watching, see you later, bye!” she finished, and with that, Karl turned the camera off.

Silence engulfed the room. You sighed.

“Alright, who’s gonna clean this shit up?”

[jenosslut]

sugary euphoria

pairings: mark lee x fem!reader

genre/s: fluff, suggestive, angst, romance

details: strangers to lovers!au, high school!au

warnings: suggestive content, suggestive humor, explict language

word count: 3k

synopsis: where two sunset lovers experience feelings they never knew existed through the journey of adolescence.

a/n: i absolutely hate how this turned out im so sorry. a special thank you to @navyhyuck, @heartyyjeno and @neojaems for beta reading this. an even more special thank you to @hunjins for always believing in me no matter what.

taglist: @hunjins @neovrse @mrkcore @moonbeamsung @jjikyuu @mellowvoidexpertfriend

couldn’t tag: @markslovelymaid

02.09.2016

you got me breathless, got me begging you to drive me insane

The weather stays warm, in hopes of smiling on everyone. The buoyant sun rays travel directly into the brunette’s eyes, though he doesn’t whine in exasperation like many would do as he is surrounded by his most favored people.

Ecstatic is how he feels around people he loves, and Mark absolutely adores his friends. Those six people- whom he labels as ‘idiots’- aid him to hold onto an endless amount of belligerent days, especially at school.

Even though Mark isn’t exactly the best with words and doesn’t prefer to demonstrate verbal affection, the legitimately adorable laugh escaping his lips whenever he’s around them is enough to let everyone acknowledge the amount of adoration he holds for the six boys.

“Are there two butts or one butt?” He hears Donghyuck question, who has an over dramatically serious expression accompanied with lips shaped in a pout pressed on his face.

“One butt Dongfuck, one butt.” Renjun is the one to respond between gritted teeth and heavy breath, thoroughly devastated with the unnecessary discussions Donghyuck never seems to leave alone.

“There’s two! They’re separate!” Chenle exclaims in an avoidably resounding manner, causing a couple heads to involuntarily shoot towards their direction in inquisitiveness; silently judging the group of boys.

“Why are we having this conversation again?” Jeno states, wrapping his arm around Jisung’s shoulder who happens to nod, displaying agreement in the older’s words.

“Ask Dongtruck.” Renjun says, raising his arms upwards in defence.

“Yeah ask Dongtruck- wait what?” Donghyuck continues, then widens his eyes at the realization; turning his head towards Renjun as his jaw commences to part.

“I’m selling a Dingdong for free, contact me for details!” Chenle screechs, throwing his hands towards the air as the boys surrounding his figure stare at him in incredulity. Many people’s attention switch onto the group of boys again, allowing them- except Chenle- to give reactions out of embarrassment.

“When will you learn to like, shut the fuck up?” Renjun silently shouts at Chenle’s face in exasperation, biting his bottom lip as he runs his hand in between his hair.

“We’re supposed to bully Yuckie here, not me! Gosh, what a traitor.” Chenle responds, letting a dramatic sigh escape his lips, poking his tongue inside his cheek.

“If only you used the creativity you use for Hyuck’s nicknames for pragmatic reasons.” Jeno states, shaking his head.

“How do you even know what pragmatic means?” Mark questions- more to himself- in a lower tone, glancing at Jeno.

“I’m not Renjun, Mark.” Jeno replies, patting Mark’s back as Mark nods at his friend’s words.

The moment Mark Lee turns his head towards the side, his eyes witness a smile; looking dazzling as ever. The sight of you standing exquisite, the most guilelessly enticing expression sitting delicately on your features is enough to cast anyone under your spell.

Your friend says something, you laugh again. Your eyes meet as you involuntarily turn your head towards his direction. Mark’s breath gets caught in his throat, thoroughly overwhelmed. You send him a wave, then boom.

Spark.

Mark Lee bewitches under your spell.

13.11.2016

I see rainbows when i think of us

First Date

First dates are cute, adorably delighting. Kind of awkward. But that’s fine, because it’s delirious. Maybe not euphoric, but definitely a form of ecstasy.

A new experience, a new person. Something contrasting, something exciting.

It’s not the transcendence that makes it appealing, because no first date is perfect. It’s the imperfection, the sheepish smiles shared throughout the day, the embarrassing-feeling sentences that appear cuter than embarrassing.

Maybe the occasion is cliché, maybe it’s not worth enough to be included in a million-selling novel. But the experience is worth it. A simple exchange of ice cream flavors, simple exchanges of words as you amble around a keenly alive park. Cliché, but new. Cliché, but delighting.

Things are a bit less expected in Mark’s case.

The arid leaves fall as a gospel choir, harmonized in such a way that celebrates each hue and shows how they complete each other. The fallen leaves create an alluring pathway as you amble exquisite with Mark besides your figure, hand in hand.

“I think i’m seeing rainbows.” You state breathily, head falling on top of Mark’s shoulder; coming in contact with the soft fabric of his maroon jacket.

“Where? It’s dark though, i don’t think that’s possible,” Mark responds, his eyes scanning through the sky involuntarily as he takes your words legitimately.

“It didn’t rain, it’s not sunny either.” He continues on analyzing his surroundings, not exactly sure of what you meant with the words you had previously put together.

“You make me see rainbows.” You smile, astonished at his oblivious nature.

“How do i do that?” He asks, eyes slightly wide as his lips unintentionally form a small pout.

“I was trying to be poetic, Mark. I know it was bad, you could've just gone along with it.” You let out a playful scoff, the small yet absolute smile continuing its appearance on your lips.

“No no it wasn't bad, i just-” He rambles.

“Oh my god, i’m joking. Calm down, i was just trying to say how you made me happy.” You let out a full hearted laugh this time, clearly amused.

“Oh…” Is all that Mark lets out at the realization, head turning towards the side in embarrassment as his heart skips a beat.

Cute, you think to yourself.

And yes, Mark Lee is indeed an adorable boy who enchants you in even more bewitching experiences.

01.02.201

I love the way I light up when you call me

Your feet play with the treacherously empty and dry looking sand while concentrating on the undulating sound of the shallow turquoise ocean. The majestic ocean seems to be wrapped in a darker color, which could easily be blamed on the endless darkness of the sky caused by the time being nearly five in the morning.

Your head lays on Mark’s shoulder while the jacket he had given you minutes prior- insisting that you were shivering- sits on your shoulders. He holds your body close to his own, feeling an- what he labels as- unreasonable urge to protect you from anything that could occur.

You sit there, a serene feeling captivating you as you listen to each other's alleviating breaths and heartbeats. You throw small sets of words here and there to create some type of a conversation, delighting in the consolatory atmosphere.

"Your heart is beating so fast." You softly speak in incredulity, eyes slightly wide at the unanticipated moment.

Mark widens his eyes, a sheepish smile commencing to play on his lips. He starts mumbling and stuttering as he tries to put together meaningful words, though they don’t make any sense to say the least.

“Mine is beating fast too, if that makes you feel better.” You don’t know where the sudden confidence comes from, yet you keep on staring right into his sparkling orbs with your own; the most ravishing smile sitting buoyantly on your lips.

Mark muttres out a few “Oh”s before lazing his visibly tensed body, slowly melting in your arms as you pull his body even closer to your own.

As the sun begins to rise, a song along with a valse melody commences to play out of the speakers Mark had brought. You softly grab the brunette’s hand, taking it into your own; signaling him to dance with a playful smile on your face.

Mark lifts himself upwards as the sheepish smile from earlier commences to display its appearance back on his features. He uses some help from your hand as he lets out a nervous chuckle, youthful hysteria running through his body.

The two of you sway your bodies according to the mellifluous melody rhyming behind. You recline your head on Mark’s chest, getting into a more comfortable position.

"You're beautiful." Mark’s graceful sounding whisper is heard clearly in your right ear after finally gathering up the courage to state a compliment, causing the smile on your lips to grow uncontrollably.

Before leaning in, you go through a whole debate about whether to kiss him or not inside your head. Finally, you lean in; mixing both of your uniquely ambrosial scents as you catch his lips in between your own.

Although the kiss isn’t exactly perfect, the experience is.

“Be my girlfriend?” Mark asks in a whisper as he uses his right hand to keep your chin up, staring right inside your eyes fervently.

“Yeah.” You whisper back with a heavy breath, not able to control the smile growing on your lips.

The newly rising sun accompanies your bodies as you try to move your lips against each other’s in the middle of a beach. Youthful giggles get thrown around as you share your first kiss, a feeling unfamiliarly intriguing enchanting you.

Maybe, maybe you had a future with Mark. Maybe he was someone who would be there for you during your worst nightmares, a shoulder to cry on after calamitous fights, a soul to share your overwhelming ecstasy with.

Though, you don't know that just yet. You never know what the future holds for you. So you completely give your all to him, living through each second of one of the many euphoric moments you share.

Mayhaps this is the beginning of a new journey...

14.03.2017

I lose my mind when you whisper sweet nothings

Gratuitously, Mark guides your body towards his bedroom; hands all over each other’s bodies as giggles out of hysteria escape your lips. You run your hands through his brown locks, plunking them eagerly as your already plumped lips messily move against each other’s.

Mark lets out another breathy giggle as your noses brush, your hands traveling on his body. Your hands find their way towards the hem of his shirt, fingers fiddling with it; contemplating on whether to take it off or not.

Mark gives you a short nod, displaying approval within his actions as he sends you an adorable smile. You glance upwards to steal a glance from his features, only to get lost inside his doe orbs; sparkling in youthful enthusiasm.

He pushes your body onto his bed, trying to be as meticulous as he could. He helps you slide his shirt off as the kiss gets even messier. After unintentionally biting his bottom lip, you mutter out multiple apologies as Mark assures you; running his hands through your hair soothingly.

He pulls your body onto his lap, blushing when he sees your eyes glued onto his upper body. Your eyes meet when you move your head, both shying away at the shared stare. You land him a kiss, on his cheek instead of his lips. Giggles continuously flow through both of your lips as you keep on planting kisses on his cheeks.

Your lips land on his nose on accident when attempting to shower him in sweet cheek kisses, allowing another giggle out of timidity to be shared.

“I love you, like a lot.” Mark whispers admiringly, the adorably sheepish smile never washing away from his lips as the first ever “I love you” effortlessly falls out. You involuntarily smile at the statement, melting into his honeyed words.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, exchanging the specific three words for the first time.

You spend your night blissfully, not precisely knowing what you are doing. Yet you sure are delightful inside Mark’s tight embrace, heart clenching inside your chest at every amiable touch.

23.05.2017

You’re my favorite mistake

“Mark,” You speak out, fidgeting on his bed uncomfortably as your fingers fiddle with the hem of your skirt.

“Yes, baby?” Mark replies; not exactly paying the most attention as his eyes stay still on the laptop seated on his desk, trying to get an essay done.

“Love, are you okay?” He questions when you don’t respond, diverting is doe orbs towards your direction.

“I’m leaving,” You say as your teeth immediately find their way towards your bottom lip, biting and peeling the skin off in apprehension.

“For university, i’m moving.” You continue, explaining yourself when he doesn’t display any type of reaction.

Mark finally lets out a small yet heavy “When” as his lips part, staring at you dispiritedly.

“This sunday.” You reply faintly after a pause.

“And you decide to tell me about it now? Three days before you leave?” Mark’s eyes go wide as his voice raises, visibly accustomed.

“Calm down.” You attempt to calm him down, though it doesn’t exactly work as he shouts even louder each time he parts his lips.

“Do you even care about my feelings?” Mark clamors.

“Mark, what are you saying?” You ask in incredulity, aching to believe you didn’t hear him accurately.

“Look Y/n, I support whatever you do. But not when you tell me right before it happens!” He continues as a scoff out of mockery follows his words.

“I’m sorry i just-” You start rambling, not having an idea on how to ease his emotions.

“A sorry doesn’t fix everything!” He extends, not allowing you to speak.

“I know-”

“Good that you know! I hope you don’t make the same mistake next time with someone else.”

“Someone else? Mark, are you seriously breaking up with me over this?” You ask as a feeling of overwhelming incredulity captures you. His words allow your eyes to widen as your lips part afterwards.

“What’s there to not break up over, Y/n? How do you expect to continue this once you’re away?” He shouts again, making you pause.

“Okay, i wish you the best.” You state with a shaky voice as tears commence to gliss up inside your eyes, causing them to look glossy. You try your best to not blink, holding your tears in.

You can’t cry. No, you can’t cry in front of him.

So you get up and leave.

--

You are still young.

Not everything lasts, not everything is meant to last.

Each moment is worth living without allowing a knot to form inside your stomach in worry. Experiences have reasons, purposes. So do you, you have a purpose. Cry your heart out after agonizing fights, laugh in delight with all you’ve got; enchanted in an overwhelming euphoria.

You are shaped by awkward encounters, innocently sheepish grins, pernicious altercations, anguished tears. Mistakes you make at eighteen become experiences you thank at thirty.

Sugary moments come to an end, so do the bitter ones. Nothing is permanent, nothing is promised. You can’t live with worry, you can’t live in pain.

Life is short, short enough for you to give each moment a chance. Short enough to feel everything, to live and not just exist.

Somewhere out there, there’s someone for you. Someone willing to cherish all your imperfections, someone willing to shower you in love as immense adoration dances in their sparkling orbs.

Love...love is alluring, fascinating, breathtakingly dazzling. There’s so much to explore within love, so much to explore within a person. New euphoric moments to be shared, new eyes to get lost in, new hearts to beat together.

Love with all you have, give people every ounce of what they deserve without worrying about the ending. Every moment comes to an end. Every kiss has a final share, every breakdown has a final tear.

There is a beginning to each journey, there’s also an ending to those journeys. No time is worth spending cooped up in your room with tears drenching on your features, no time is worth contemplating on whether or not to do something in worry.

Although this is an anguished ending to the previous chapter, it’s a sugary euphoric beginning for another one...

[sinisterlyhan]

03. jisung ; hyunsung /  8705 words

incubus!hyunsung, oral (m receiving), female reader, unprotected sex, choking kink, a mild hint of jealousy, a little fluff at the end

tw: slight mention of force

parts: 01 ; 02 ; 03

your hands fell onto your lap after another failed attempt at calling his name, a shy yet frustrated groan sounding from your throat as you covered your eyes with the heels of your palms.

you were seated right in the middle of a brand new sheet, one you bought from the local department store for the personal use of summoning demons. the white sheet has been painted on with a dark red glyph for almost twenty minutes now, and you still have yet to call up the boys you've been dying to meet; each time you chanted the spell, you stop just when you were supposed to speak their name.

a rush of embarrassment kept glowing over you for some reason. it seemed you have yet to get over how you managed to be turned into a damn filthy doll overnight, much like how your last encounter with jisung and hyunjin, which was already weeks ago, still lingered in the front lines of your head almost every waking second.

they have really fucked themselves into your head, everything from their intense glowy eyes to the scratch of their nails haunted your days and nights. and everything reminded you of them, starting with the unfading hickey jisung sucked onto your skin to the empty clench of your cunt that just constantly felt so overwhelming.

you haven’t been touched, kissed, nor filled up to the brim in weeks. your fingers and the vibrator you secretly got off online were not good enough to replace the blissful skin-to-skin sensation you knew those two demons would be more than capable of giving you.

and it was getting so bad, your neediness growing with each sunrise, to a point where just the mere thought of their faces was enough to make your head hazy with lust and longing.

but even then, you kept pushing back summoning them again for some reason. a very broken part of your heart kept forgetting how tightly jisung has cuddled your warm body to him, forgetting how gentle hyunjin had kissed your swollen lips and rubbing your sore skin, forgetting how kindly they have treated you after they practically fucked you into oblivion.

your mind kept wandering off to how they would react to you summoning them again, and somehow you developed an unreasonable fear of having your terrible assumption—that they wouldn’t want to see you again—becoming a reality.

it was a problem of your lack of self-worth; if the boys were here, they would have the scent of your insecurities sniffed out in seconds, and they would probably hate that.

“huh.” you exhaled slowly, trying to coax yourself into submission by thinking about the alternative, by remembering how good they have made you feel the night you first met them. you could have that right at your fingertips if you could just try. one of them even left you a note! “damn it, why is this so hard? freaking stupid, stupid han jisung!”

in the middle of your mildly insulting chant, where you repeatedly called hyunjin and jisung stupid when the truly stupid one in the room was you, the glyph you were seated on had glowed a bright, brilliant shade of blood red for a brief second before a shadowy substance appeared at the corner of your room. jisung soon morphed into shape, the black substance trickling off his shoulders into nothingness.

he took a look around your room. nothing has changed since the last time he has been in it; the mini-trinkets on your desk were still arranged on the same spot, your mattress was draped over with the same cover he fucked you on last time, and the basket of freshly cleaned, unfolded laundry stained of your that honey-sweet scent of your naked body.

jisung let him bask in your warm and homey room, his gaze finally making their way away from the furniture and onto you. he softened, his back relaxing and his eyes sparking a faint shade of red at the sight of you kneeling with your hands to your eyes.

supposed the only thing that changed was him; he came back to your room with more longing and more anticipation than he did last time. and if he has only able to enjoy half of his sexual encounters with other people before, he definitely hasn’t been able to enjoy any of them after he got a chance to lay with you.

“what are you doing?”

his low and tender voice snapped you out of your trance, and you yelped when you found him to be only inched away from your face after opening your eyes. his eyes were a golden shade of brown, like sunlight filtered through the gaps of trees, and looking into them made you dizzy.

“i… uhh…”

you hadn’t gotten a chance to speak when jisung leaned in to press his lips against yours. he went slow, he was thorough in recalling the shape of your mouth, none at all like the first time he kissed you. and you closed your eyes, your head leaning back when he pushed forward to deepen the kiss, wanting to taste more of you.

ahh, how jisung has missed you. your softness and your innocence, your lips and your tightness. he missed you much more than he wanted to miss you. it was like you infiltrated his head, like you just barged in without knocking or taking your shoes off, infuriatingly occupying his brain when all he wanted to do was to keep his cool and wait for you.

but it has been weeks since you last called. the desire to touch you burned inside him in ways he could not fathom.

this wasn’t supposed to happen to him; he wasn’t supposed to think about you when he has his cock stuffed inside somebody else, he wasn’t supposed to be so reluctant to chase his high in a stranger’s eyes, he wasn’t supposed to feel so anxious thinking that maybe you neglected him and called up hyunjin instead.

how was he supposed to stop himself when you finally appeared before him again? and without hyunjin’s presence as well? this felt like a miracle, a gift sent to him by god, a damn utopia.

leaning further into you, your back soon hit the thin white sheet that winkled when you both moved. you moved your legs, separating them so jisung could have access to the middle where he could comfortably lay his body on top of yours. and he had your hands pinned to the side of your head, fingers pressing onto your palm and his hands pressured against your wrists.

“ji–jisun–jisung–“

he kept kissing you, you couldn’t even find breaks in between to mumble into his mouth. his lips just kept moving against yours, devouring you and pouring out all his lonely sorrows as a sort of payback for taking so long to summon him again. after he was done with your lips, he slowly trailed down to your chin, planting kisses along the side of your face until he stopped at your neck.

“what took you so long, sweet cheeks?” he mumbled then, brushing his lips softly against your skin before he dove in.  

“i’m so–i’m sorry.” you angled your head, allowing him more access to attack your skin with soft smooches and light bites. the feeling of his wet mouth jolted your desperation out of you like lightning and suddenly, your head was filled with nothing else but the tingly sensation of being peppered with affection.

you were able to enjoy the euphoria for a while before you were lunged out of your colorful trance with the realization that jisung already had one hand slipped under your shirt. right, you finally remembered that he is an incubus and he had been summoned with the expectation of having sex with you like last time.

and while you were welcome to that, while you have been wanting that, within this impulsive of the moment, your brain short-circuited at the thought with a wave of horrible assumption about jisung’s unspoken feelings. it hit you again that what if he was rushing this? he barely said anything and went on to kiss you, was that desperation or impatience? was it because he couldn’t wait to touch you, or was it because he couldn’t wait to end it?

your eyes widened slightly and your brows furrowed. the cycle would continue when he’s done, with him having to go back to hell and you once again waiting another few weeks before you could bust up the courage to summon them again. you didn’t want that, you wanted jisung to stay longer. you’ve got to stall some time.

“oh, wait, jisung.”

your hand went down to grab his, stopping him from his advances. jisung pulled away from your neck and looked up at you, his brows furrowed at the interruption but he gave you the space you needed to speak.

as you tried to sit up, your legs moving to stand, you spoke, “wait, i need to do something first–“

“oh, please,” he huffed out, rolling his eyes before he leaned in to try and attach his lips to yours again. “fuck that, it can wait,”

you turned your cheek, his lips landing on your hair and causing him to grimace in annoyance. you pushed your hands to his shoulders, moving him away from you as you clarified, “just a moment! let me summon hyunjin too.”

“woah, hey, hold on,” jisung said after a moment of processing, a huff of laughter stuffed between as he looked at you in disbelief. “i thought this would just be you and me.”

you paused nervously. his face was unreadable, in a way that there were too many emotions mixed in you couldn’t tell which one was the dominant one. was it the disappointment in his pout? or it could be the faint anger hiding behind the red sparks of his eyes? whatever it was, you just knew he was very opposed to the side of calling hyunjin up as well, and you weren’t sure how to respond to that.

your original plan was to call both of them, but since you had forgotten how you did it last time so now you have to summon them up individually. perhaps jisung got the wrong idea after you accidentally said his name out loud enough for the ritual to hear you.

“well, i just thought because last time–“ you fiddled with your finger awkwardly, your head hung low as you refused to look at him out of embarrassment. “i just didn’t…”

“didn’t what?” jisung asked, his voice raised stoically.

the doorbell of your home suddenly rang, saving you from jisung’s intense gaze with a distraction. you looked away from him to the door of your bedroom with brightened eyes, your mood instantly lifted when you tore yourself away from the million-dollar question you have yet to find the perfect answer for.

“i’ll go get that real quick,” you mumbled under your breath as you scrambled up to your feet and left your room.

it was just the girl who lived next door asking you about the jumpy internet in the residential building recently. you were hoping it would be somebody with better conversation skills, perhaps the old lady who would occasionally bring after school snacks over to your home, at least she would want to ask you how your day went and you could stall more time before you have to go back to the awkward tension.

as you watched her frown at you for trying to stretch out the conversation more than it should, her distracted eyes slowly moved away from your face to the boy who had crept up silently behind you. seeing that she had stopped paying attention to you, you curiously glanced behind your shoulder and immediately got startled to find jisung only inches away from your back.

“you scared me,” you hissed, giving his arm a shove. “i’m just talking to my neighbor! go back to my room!”

jisung furrowed his brows at you, refusing to budge even as you gave him a few shoves on the shoulders. the nonchalant look behind the stranger’s eyes was pissing him off for some reason—this little shit. he would have gotten his answer by now if she hadn’t rung the doorbell, or at least he would have dove right back into kissing you again and left the problem unattended.

he could have convinced you to leave hyunjin wherever he was right now so he could have you all to himself. but no, someone has to come up and ruin everything for him. and judging by the spark of realization and mischief behind her eyes, she was about to ruin it even more for him.

“oh–oh wait. holy shit, no way,” she said with a tone of disbelief, her jaw dropping as she tried not to laugh from shock. pointing a finger at jisung, she glanced at you and whispered just loud enough for all three of you to hear. “is this the hyunjin you kept screaming about lately?”

your cheeks reddened at the comical smirk she was flashing you, genuine curiosity laying behind her face as she glanced between a very pissed-off jisung and a very humiliated you, as if she was trying to see if you two would fit together well enough that she could see you two having sex together. you didn’t even have to turn around to feel jisung tense from behind you, the hotness of his body radiating in a threatening way.

oh, this is bad, really bad.

for one, you had no idea she was able to hear you through the apartment walls. you thought you were being quiet enough just in case you couldn't hear your parents returning home from work, but it could also be possible that you have shamelessly let out a few cries of his name during the neediest moments of your imagination, your hand repeatedly sliding the vibrator into your core as you tried so hard to remember the feeling of his cock.

she could have heard those unfulfilling climaxes you had. but fuck, out of all the times you’ve pleasured yourself, she just coincidentally decided to only pick up the ones when you moaned hyunjin’s name instead of jisung’s? and she dared to knock on your door and expose it to your face as well!

humiliating, embarrassing, stupid! you were trying so hard not to seem like you were being needy just in case you appeared pathetic! now all your effort to stall time, thus creating such an awkward tension, has gone to waste.

“please leave,” you said meekly, gesturing your arm to the side where her flat was located with a flushed face. “just go, oh my god, go.”

jisung’s fury did not falter as the girl gave you a nod before she left with a giggle she failed to surprise. he kept glaring at her head until she left, and then his eyes shifted to the back of your head and he simply tensed up even more than before.

oh, the way his heart just dropped to his stomach when he heard that you’ve been calling hyunjin’s name was beyond anything he has ever felt. first, it was you wanting to call him up, now it was about you touching yourself to the thought of him. oh the devils, could this get any worse for jisung?

he was already confused about his affection enough, now to have it all thrown at his face with hellfire was nothing he could handle properly. the disappointment, the heartbreak, the burning sensation ignited along the paths of his veins leading directly to his scratched-up heart—it was like his world stopped turning for a moment like he just found out you cheated on him.

but you could never cheat on him because you were never his, to begin with. he was just an incubus, so was hyunjin. that was all there was to it, at least that was all there was supposed to be. and since humans can play favorites, while they can call up whoever they wanted, it seemed to him that you have chosen your pick, and the demon wasn’t him.

jisung didn’t know why you called him up then, but since you did anyway, he figured he’d just try to discard his emotions and fuck you like he does everyone else. and a part of him wanted to do that in order to gain some sort of validation from you, to hear you moan because of him, to see that he could be on par with hyunjin in terms of pleasuring you.

he wouldn’t admit it, but he just wanted you to like him back, even just a little bit.

“jisung, don’t listen to her–“ you went to place a hand on his shoulder, but your wrist was gabbed in a millisecond before he started to yank you back into his house. your steps stumbled as you tried to stop him, eyes wide in confusion at his sudden force. “wait, hold on, what are you doing?”

he turned around abruptly, his hand reaching behind your head to cup your neck before he leaned close to your ear. when he spoke, his voice was hauntingly low it almost sounded surreal. “get in the house before i fuck you out here in the hall,” he whispered. “you bet i’ll make sure everyone living on this floor knows who i am.”

you shivered at his words, your knees weakening slightly at the anticipation for what could come but also from the way he was looking at you. his hooded eyes were furious and his grip was deadly, much worse than the first time he grabbed you on the chin.

you would welcome the roughness if it was within the context that the situation ha escalated to that point, but this—this was too abrupt, you couldn’t bring yourself to enjoy it.

“jisung, are you oka–“ you got cut off when he growled under his breath. he pulled you into the house himself, slamming the door shut before pushing your back against it with an aching shove.

your hands gripped his flexed arms when he pressed his lips against yours harshly, pushing your head back against the wooden door. he immediately started to suck on your bottom lip without giving you a second of rest, a small whine leaving your lips as he poked his tongue between the gaps of your teeth. he swiped across your bottom teeth, pulled his tongue back, and bit on your lip again.

you were trying so hard to reciprocate the kiss, to move along with his pace, but it felt like you were reverted to when he kissed you for the first time where he was moving too fast and too rough. you weren’t enjoying it, you didn’t like it at all.

“ow–jisung!” you turned your face and pushed him away from you when you felt a sudden sting at your bottom lip. you stopped at arm’s length where you could finally see him clearly, turning to him with wide eyes and an opened mouth.

it was lucky of you to even have the strength to tear him away from you, but you got even luckier when you caught his eyes and he responded to the utter confusion hidden beneath them. his hands dropped from your waist when he glanced at your red, swollen lips that had just a trace of blood lingering on top.

you looked almost appalled by what he did, with your brows furrowed at the red drop you touched onto your fingertip. “jisung, why did you do that? that hurts!”

“i–“ jisung paused. his previous thought to just get you over with vanishing within a blink of an eye when he realized he’s actually caused harm this time. he curled his hands into fists, his muscles tensing up at the thought that you probably hate him even more than you already do, now that he’s let his jealousy and insecurity overwhelm his head. “i’m so sorry, (name).”

you raised your brows, softening at his mellow voice. he couldn’t even look at you when he apologized, and you could see how tensed up he was. perhaps he was ashamed of what he did, perhaps he felt bad that he had taken his anger out on you when he shouldn’t; either way, while still being quite annoyed that he didn’t try a calmer approach, you were appreciative of his sincere apology.

short and straight to the point. no excuses or whatnots. it was already better than how a lot of humans like to do it these days.

“hey,” you called out softly as you stepped up to cup his cheeks in your hands. you searched his eyes, caress his heart with your tender gaze when he finally found it in himself to look back at you. you arched a brow playfully, your thumbs pressing into his cheeks as you said, “you gotta look at people when you talk to them, you know?”

he pursed his lips together, his heart hammering in his chest. you didn’t smell of hated at all, you simply smelt like you—sweet like honey, soft as freshly washed laundry.

once again you set aside the madness and the pain of your own to cradle him in your arms like he held some sort of importance in your life, because your compassion rivaled that of the galaxy. and at this point, he could be all but annoyed and jealous.

jisung was just confused, with a little bit of longing, and perhaps he was in love.

“i’m so sorry i hurt you,” he muttered under his breath, his bottom lip slightly jutting out.

“i forgive you,” you said. “but i’d like to know why you got so rough all of a sudden?”

now it was his turn to get flustered. admitting to his wrongdoings and apologizing was already a brand new world for him, as refreshing and relieving as it felt to hear that you didn’t hold any grudges against what he did. but to admit that he felt jealous? that he felt inferior to another incubus, not to mention the said incubus was hwang hyunjin?

oh hell, no, that was the line he wasn’t sure if he wanted to cross.

“jisung?” you called him again, eyes patient and hands soft.

he looked at you, brows furrowed with defeat at the mercy of your hands; he had come to realize there isn’t any line he wouldn’t be willing to cross for you.

“it’s just….” he sighed. “you don’t scream my name.”

for some reason, the thought didn’t feel as embarrassing as it did when it was first revealed just a minute ago. your cheeks didn’t flush red and your voice didn’t tremble in an attempt to find a terrible excuse to cover the matter up.

you only breathed out a soft laugh, amused. something about the way jisung seemed to genuinely upset that you never thought about him when you were fucking yourself was, in some ways, adorable.

he had no idea how many times you thought about him at night, yearning for his hands to roam around your body, desperate for the strength and speed you couldn’t provide for yourself.

“oh, but i do, i have,” you said, leaning closer to his face. “she just didn’t hear me when i did.”

he huffed, rolling his eyes to the side slightly to express his dissatisfaction. he wasn’t really upset at you anymore, he just wished he didn’t have to be mistaken as hyunjin and that he didn’t have to hear about him being excluded from your dirty fantasies. but his moody thoughts soon faded when you squished his cheeks, leaning even closer to him until your noses touched.

“how can i make it up to you, hmm?” you asked under your breath, looking into his eyes as you nudged the side of his nose, rubbing against it teasingly before you leaned in to kiss him.

oh, where the hell did this boldness come from? jisung wasn’t sure and neither were you, but you were both enjoying it to the fullest as your mouths moved against each other slowly. there was a sense of hotness in the way your lips moved, trying to find the perfect angle and the perfect pressure  so he wouldn’t leave a single inch of you unattended.

your back was pushed against the door again as the moment got more urgent. jisung pressed himself up towards your body, chest to chest with his knee forced between your legs. you hummed when he kneaded up on your clothed heat, rubbing against your clit and giving you a jolt of stimulation you’ve been needing all this time.

he finally found it in himself to pull away from him after a few more rubs of his knee against your heat, and he instinctively placed a hand to the back of your neck to keep you close. he pressed his forehead against yours, his chest heaving to catch his breath. his eyes were darker now, but unlike before, they didn’t lack softness in them when he asked carefully, “can you let me do what i want with you, sweet cheeks?”

“yeah.” you nodded without giving it another thought.

the last thing you saw was a spark of red before jisung dove into your face. you shut your eyes, feeling his lips on yours for a rough second before he traveled down to your jaw and your neck, sucking and biting even more hickeys on your skin to overlap the previous ones that haven’t faded yet. his hands roamed around your figure as he buried himself in your scent, squeezing your flesh and cupping your breasts to elicit any type of response from you.

he needed to hear you, badly, whether it was a gasp or a whimper. and like he suspected, your sounds were much more achieving than anybody else’s he has heard these few weeks.

“fuck, jisung–“ you gasped after his hand found their way to the waistband of your short, and he didn’t hesitate in yanking the fabric off your hips so he could tug your pantie to the side and slip a finger between your folds.

“seems like you’ve missed me, sweet cheeks,” he gloated, feeling your walls shrink under his slow pumping, hugging his finger tightly as he slipped it in and out of you.

you hummed out a whimper of agreement when he forced your walls to expand by adding another finger inside, your juices a teasing trail rolling down the gaps between his fingers. and he was really thinking you’d at least be a little used to this after you’ve finally started to finger yourself in your own time, suppose nothing can ever replace the way he does it, not even yourself.

ahh, he couldn’t wait. he couldn’t wait for the moment he could finally push himself inside of you, to feel the first stretch hyunjin beat him to last time. you’re gonna be so good for him, he just knew it.

his thorough pace turned quicker and quicker by the second, and soon the squelching sound of your juices echoed throughout the living room. the tightening in your abdomen was getting overwhelming with each shove of his fingers inside your hole, and each time you could feel your knees giving out more and more. jisung was the only thing holding you up as you sink yourself into the pleasure of not having to do this by yourself, his arm gripping red fingerprints on the side of your waist.

for someone who was going at a pace where his main goal was to chase your high, it came as a disappointing surprise when jisung suddenly pulled his fingers out of you. your whine faltered mid-way and you looked down at him, your brows furrowing questioningly at him. he only smirked, utterly enjoying the way you blushed when he brought his hand up to his mouth and licked a long stripe up his wet finger.

you watched him suck his fingers clean with a fried mind, part of you too shy to say anything while the other part of you screamed at how alluring the flicks of his tongue was. and you didn’t complain when he leaned in to kiss you, poking his tongue into your mouth to lather your essence all over you.

as you panted into his mouth, he reached down to tug at your thighs and guided them around his waist. your circles your arms around his neck, feeling him push you against the door with a thrust at your wet core, his cock hard and vivid under his pants. you tugged at his hair, your hand clawing at his back as he continued to push himself against you for a faint taste of sweet friction, and you pouted with a whine as you moved away for a little.

“jisung…” you wanted more, you wanted to feel him. and he was only a thin piece of fabric away yet he wasn’t giving it to you.

his eyes trailed down to the string of saliva connecting your lips, and even lower he could see the colors he painted onto your skin. all of them fueled him to want more, to finally rid you of your last piece of clothing and just pound into you as he wishes.

“what?” he asked when he finally looked back at you, slightly annoyed that you broke the kiss but he tilted his head when he saw the dazed and needy look on your face. he wasn’t sure when you started to be so bold; last time he checked you were still flustered over hyunjin eating you out, and now you were here asking him to fuck you with pleading eyes.

jisung didn’t hate it, but if you were going to beg for him then you better start using your words. and even then, he might not give you exactly what you want.

“what do you want?” he asked in a hush, his face moving to your neck and licking up your skin.

you pursed your lips together at his question, trying to focus on your thoughts but feeling extremely distracted at the way his tongue flickered across your sensitive spot. you knew what you wanted, just not so much how to say it out loud. and it seemed that your shyness has come back from its short-term vacation because just thinking about filthily begging to be stuffed has got your cheeks tainted red.

jisung’s fingers ran up your body, tapping harsh touches on your skin as they ran up your side and your bones before his hand reached your chin. he grabbed a firm hold of your face, squeezing your cheeks together as he yanked your head to the side to give himself more access to your neck.

“i asked what do you want, baby,” he huffed out near your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “answer me before i leave you with nothing, mmhm?”

“i… i want…” you gulped nervously, finding it hard to swallow your saliva when he has your face squeezed so tightly in the palm of his hand. “i want you to fuck me.”

jisung raised a brow in disdain, staring at you in mock boredom. your voice was hopeless enough for his liking, so small and weak that it gave him a sense of arousing power. your throat bobbed under the influence of his strength, desperately trying to get rid of the liquid gathering up around your inner-cheeks. it was good, but not good enough. it lacked an element in it that he was itching to have.

“is that how you ask people for a favor, sweet cheeks?” he asked, tightening his grip and pushing your head further against the door.

you whimpered at the pain, silently finding it confusing how it could mix in so well with the thrill piling up in your chest. you should be scared with the amount of force he was putting on your small, little face but you weren’t. if anything, you found his demands alluring and his force sexy, you just wanted to feel even smaller under his grasp.

“no–no,” you replied.

“so tell me again,” he said, his enjoyment from watching you squirm in embarrassment the only thing keeping his patience intact. because no matter how strong of a front he was putting up right now, the smell of your essence wafting before his nose was, still, making him spiral into madness. “what do you want?”

“i want you to fuck me, ple–please,” you pleaded, your eyes rolling upwards when you heard a low chuckle from him. your hands went up to his wrist, holding on him as your shoulders rose with your heavy breathing. “please, jisung, i want you to fi–fill me up. please, i want to feel you.”

you were so adorably shy. it’s almost cute if jisung wasn’t aching to finally plunge himself into your right now.

abruptly yanking you by the neck, his eyes took a quick scan of your living room before he dragged you along with him to where the dining table was. his hand briefly let go of you just so he could push your chest against the wooden surface, your head almost hitting down the vase located in the middle.

“wait, right here?” you asked, your eyes wide as you tried to look up.

“yes,” jisung replied, pushing your head back down as he leaned against your back to speak at your ear. “you said you’ll let me do anything i want with you, so i say i’m fucking you where you eat.”

the discomfort of your breasts being squished against the surface melted in with your eagerness when you heard jisung fumbling with the belt of his pants. oh, you’ve been waiting for this day, you’ve been waiting so impatiently and so desperately for his cock, you couldn’t even begin to explain how excited you were to be able to feel that incredible stretch they gave you again.

jisung pulled his belt out of the loops of his pants, gripping it in his hands when it left his pants all loose around his waist. before he could discard it on the floor, however, a second glance gave him a sudden bulb of an idea. he looked at the belt in his hand and glanced back at your body, pinned up uselessly against the surface as you waited for him.

a hum escaped his lips as he removed his hand from your back and brushed your hair away from your back. he clicked his tongue in thoughts, his eyes reddening as he gently ran the back of his finger across your exposed neck. and then he smirked, his grip tightening around his belt for a moment before he released it to let the length drop.

you gasped when you felt jisung pull your head up by your hair, and before long he threw his belt over the curve of your neck and buckled it up at the back. your brows furrowed in confusion, unsure what he was doing exactly until he used his hand to tighten the excess part of the belt. he punctured a hole through the leather with the sharp prong before he looped it through and tightened it around your neck.

it was a choker made out of his belt, you could feel the rusty metal buckle on your flesh. it was a manual leash around your neck he could tug at whenever he wanted to.

you couldn’t see his face, but he was grinning the whole while he shrugged off his pants and pulled his hardened member out of the confines of his boxers. somehow just staring at you with a mock dog leash on your neck was enough to arouse him to the maximum, pre-cum leaking off his tip and dripping down his length like melted chocolate. he pumped his length a few times, rubbing his own cum all over to lube it up a little before he positioned himself at your entrance.

you sucked in a breath, your cheek pressed against the table with your breathing increasing. he was gathering up your wetness by running his tip up and down your slit, making sure you were prepared enough before he slides himself in. it felt so tingly, like needles ghostly being dragged up and down your back. that was until he finally pushed himself in, slowly and carefully, when the needles started to poke instead of a brush.

jisung cursed under his breath at your automatic clench. he didn’t feel this last time; like hyunjin said, he fucked you loose before jisung got the chance to slip himself inside of you. your walls were closing down on him dangerously and slowing down his movement. he could feel the slick skin within clamping down on him to add pressure on his cock, and he tried his best not to shove himself all the way in.

that would be painful for you. besides, the initial stretch is often the best pleasure to have.

he stayed in you for a moment after only pushing in half-way, sweat already starting to gather at his forehead. you moaned meanwhile he continued the cycle of pulling out and slowly slipping back in, helping you with adjusting to his size and making sure you could feel him thoroughly before he fucked your senses away from your head.

“you doing good, sweet cheeks?” he asked, leaning down to place a kiss on your arm as his hands snuck under your shirt to squeeze your boob.

“yeah,” you replied breathlessly, bumping your forehead against the surface at the feeling. “jisung–jisung, please move.”

“you’ve really missed my cock, huh?” he chuckled, complying with your request and rolling his hips against your ass.

you nodded, your hum a weak squeal. “yeah, i’ve missed your cock, jisung,” you said desperately, your hands curling into fists as you rubbing your cheek against the wooden surface.

fuck, you’ve yearned for this feeling. this torn feeling at your abdomen where his cock moved sluggishly in and out of your cunt, his hot skin a million times better than a vibrating plastic toy. and your greediness was growing with each stroke of blissful abandon, your walls clenching in an indication that you wanted him more. harder and faster.

“ahh! jisung please, please move faster,” you whined against the table, your hot breath bouncing back against your face. “please fuck me.”

he furrowed his brows, feeling quite annoyed that you were down there yapping about wanting more when he was putting in most of the work. but granted, he wasn’t feeling too bad himself. in fact, your pussy was making him feel absolutely elated; your clench giving his dick the right amount of pressure, your moans of his name giving him just the validation and reassurance he needed, and you’ve picked up quickly on the slutty begging.

oh devils—jisung could imagine the look on hyunjin’s face when he found out you two have done it without his presence, and the fact that he’s fucked the filthy obedience into your head. fuck, he was over the moon just thinking about it!

“it’s not good to be impatient, sweet cheeks,” he scolded lowly before a smile reached his lips. “but since you begged so nicely, i guess i can give you what you want.”

your jaw dropped at the sudden snap of his hip, a really strong one that pushed you up the table. and starting from then on, there were no more breathy moans and soft whimpers anymore.

jisung was pounding into you hard and fast, so much that the table began to squeak under the weight and the vase in the middle rattled threateningly close to your head. the sound of hot skin slapping echoed throughout the room, mixing in with your cries of his name until your voice came to a choked halt.

with a swift yank, your head snapped upwards and your back arched at the pressure of jisung tugging at his belt. the leather pulled at your throat, sticking against it and printing a red collar shape on your delicate skin. it was cutting your air as much as his hand could have, making your moans extremely strained and throaty.

this felt dirty. you were literally being treated like a dog on a leash right now, your head forced up by his belt as he thrust into you from behind. jisung’s grunts were hoarse, his growls sending waves of shivers pitter-pattering down your heart because he was enjoying himself so much using your hole. and you shamelessly liked it, the guilted part of your heart found immense pleasure from being treated like this.

noticing the way you got louder with him pulling at your throat, jisung couldn’t help but breathe out a sinister laugh as he pulled on his belt even more. your torso went up with his force, feeling his chest press against your back for a brief second before you arched off with the way he was hitting you at this new angle.

his hand continued to stimulate your nipple as he dragged your head back against his shoulder when his fingers moved up the tug at the back of his belt collar. you choked out a moan when he pulled at it, feeling the metal buckle straining against your bones.

he kissed your shoulders as if that could soothe you down from the way he relentlessly pounded into you, your voice urging his never-ending stamina to keep fucking you until he could feel your release.

“fuck, jisung!” you suddenly cried when you felt his tip brush deep into your hole, finding and thrusting up against your g-spot. your body jolted and your knees buckled at the zap of electricity coursing through your veins, scratching up an aching burn in your abdomen.

“am i making you feel good, hmm?” he mused, brushing his nose along your shoulder before he pulled your head back further to kiss your cheek. “ugh, i’ve missed you so much.”

he moved faster, stimulating your sweet spot with quick and greedy thrusts, making you lose your sanity to a point where all you could do was hang out mouth open and look up at the ceiling. he chuckled; you couldn’t remember any words.

your cunt had started to quiver slightly before, but the trembling of your walls were getting more and more overwhelming that jisung wasn’t able to ignore it anymore. you were getting closer to your climax. he knew just from your lack of words and your seductive scent changing from warm honey to dark roses.

deciding to change position, he slipped himself outside of you with a quick plop before spinning you around. you could feel one moment of emptiness, but the hollowness faded quickly when jisung immediately hoisted your body up on the edge of the table.

he spread your legs apart with his hands and before you could even snap out of your trance, he had inserted himself back into you, continuing where he left off to chase after your high.

he tugged at his belt to move you forward, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss you tried to keep up with. it was mostly just jisung sucking on your lips while you moaned your pleasures out and instinctively opened your legs even more for him. he could feel his own knot tightening at his tip whenever the sound of your essence gurgling inside your pussy gets too loud, and he couldn’t wait to feel the warmth of your juices coating his cock again, to feel the hot white substances trailing past his skin.

“jisung–i’m–mmm–jisung,” you whined into his mouth, feeling him pull away to look at your squinted eyes.

“cum around me, sweet cheeks,” he demanded, his hand moved to your trembling thighs, squeezing them for support so he could steady his pace and his strength. “you better fucking scream my name when you do it, or else we’re starting over again.”

you could feel the pleasure piling up, adding to the pain you felt at your ass where the edge of the table pressed against your bones. and with one last thrust, with one last scream of his name, your orgasm unraveled and your cum spilled all over your walls. jisung grunted at the warmth, his cock being clenched with brand new, sticky white walls that inked your cum onto his skin.

looking down when he pulled away, his mouth hung open at the cum that dripped out of your cunt and the lines of your whiteness that splattered onto him. he could feel his dick twitch at the sight, and he quickly shoved himself back inside you both to reach his own orgasm and to ask for more of your juices.

the thought of having your essence all over him an incredibly heavenly idea. and all of this—this lustful euphoria, this demonic insanity he felt has only happened with you. he hasn’t felt this way in weeks, or ever before that, actually.

fucking other humans just doesn’t feel the same as fucking you, because jisung didn’t like anyone else.

a throaty moan left his lips when he felt tingles all over his cock, he knew he was close. removing himself away from you suddenly, he stepped back and pulled at his belt to yank you off the table. your weak legs made you go down immediately, your knees hitting the ground with a bang and your face presented right in front of jisung’s glistening cock.

“open up,” he said, circling his belt around his knuckles before he pulled you up.

your mouth was forced open with that sudden pull, a yelp being muffled as soon as jisung stuck himself inside of your mouth. you still weren’t very used to this, even after having both of them spread your mouth open with their cocks last time.

your mere mouth wasn’t able to take him whole before and you couldn’t suddenly be able to now without any practice, therefore you were left a messy, choking mess when jisung bottomed out in your mouth. not to mention he was yanking you up by the throat, causing heavy trouble in your breathing.

your neck hurt from constantly facing skyward, your mouth limp from being forced open, and your gag reflex a nightmare when his tip kept brushing against your uvula. even then, though, you could see that jisung was having the time of his long, long life.

his eyes were shut and his head thrown back slightly, grunts and moans were leaving his lips like a mantra. it was an angelic sight to see him enjoy himself like this, abusing your throat and mindlessly yanking at your neck.

not to be narcissistic but you took pride in yourself for being able to pleasure him like this.

his cum was still bitter the way you remembered from last time. you swallowed them down as he released them, your throat bobbing against the leather belt as you drank down his heavy load. this felt even more than last time, and you wondered if he hadn’t been able to release his sexual frustration lately.

jisung pulled away from your mouth, his dick limp against his thighs with the shimmering of saliva reflected on the skin. he looked down at you when you started to cough for air, your hands reaching up to wipe off the dripping drool around your lips. sighing out a heavy exhale, he leaned down slightly to tug your body up by the mock leash. he muffled your gasp with his lips, tasting himself on it for a brief moment before pulling away to stare at you.

your eyes teary and hazed, your hair a tousled mess, your lips wet with saliva and cum, your neck and collarbones painted with red marks and purple bruises. and oh fuck, you look stunning like this.

“i…” he shut his mouth.

oh, devils, he almost said it.

his eyes softened at your fragile frame then, the previous aggressiveness fading in a second. he knelt beside you, his hands fumbling to release his belt from your neck before throwing the accessory aside.

he ran his hand across your red skin, a gentle grimace on his face as he soon circled his arm around your torso and brought you to his body. tilting your head up, he laid kitten licks across the hot skin and kissed the afterglow of the pain away. you let him, still trying to catch your breath from the previous encounter.

jisung pulled away from you after he was down patting down your neck with his lips, and he smiled a little at you with a pet to the side of your head. you were smiling at him, your eyes teary and your lips red; he thought you looked great, sexy even. especially more since he did this to you.

tentatively moving closer to you, he looped his arms around your back and under your legs before he pulled you into his arms and held you up bridal style. he slumped down on the couch, marveling at the softness of it as he cuddled you close to his chest.

“are you feeling okay?” he asked, glancing down at you and kissing the top of your head. “you did so well, baby, but did i hurt you?”

you shook your head, leaning against his shoulder with your eyes closed. “it’s fine, i actually kind of liked that.” you giggled. “thank you for making me feel so nice again, i’ve been waiting for it for weeks.”

jisung hummed, his thumb running circles on your skin to calm you down. something seemed to be irking at his chest when he heard that and he tilted his head in confusion, wondering exactly which part of it made him feel so. it took him a while to remember your past conversations, the one you two hastily shared when you just summoned him into your room.

“oh, right, you never answered me,” he said. “what took you so long? it has been weeks.”

you opened your eyes then, staring ahead at the space on the wall. you debated whether you wanted to tell jisung about it, a problem that was rooted so deep inside your self-esteem that you thought perhaps he didn’t need to know.

but he was so caring and so careful with you as the aftermath of sex, just being in his embrace right now felt more at home than being within the space you two were in.

your initial worry that maybe he and hyunjin didn’t like you as much as you hoped they would felt almost… idiotic now.

“it’s… it’s a personal problem,” you replied. “i won’t do it again next time. i promise you’ll see me again soon after you leave today.”

jisung frowned. you didn’t exactly smelt of lies, but your tone felt deceiving. there was a reason why you didn’t reveal the reason behind your delay, though, and jisung thought better about questioning it. having you breathe calmly in his arms, vulnerable and naked, was a moment he wouldn’t destroy for the world.

“you promise?” he chuckled. “not gonna make me miss you too much again?”

you bit your lower lip gently, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “you missed me?”

“i think both me and hyunjin did,” he said, shifting a little. “but i definitely missed you more than he did.”

you giggled quietly, nuzzling your head against his chest. “does everything have to be a competition between you both?”

jisung hummed. no, but they liked it that way. and he reckoned hyunjin would want to do something akin to this to you if he knew that this private encounter happened. a short laugh escaped his lips then as he held you against his chest.

he’d like to see hyunjin try.

[naerwenia]

No Kisses on the Mouth (Part 1 of 2)

Pairing: Grand Moff Tarkin/Reader

Summary: Tarkin gives you a second chance after it is found out you have been seen with known rebels. Few years later, you a working under Director Krennic at Imperial Advance Weapon Development, and one night Grand Moff Tarkin wants a personal debrief on your progress.

Tags/warnings: NSFW 18+, smut, bdsm, dom!Tarkin, sub!reader, afab!reader, spanking with a belt and hand, part 1, self-insert

A/N: Oh god, what have I done... This was inspired by a session in our SW RPG campaign, where my character had to think if she would take the opportunity to go back to be just a medic, to be forgiven for her anarchistic deeds. Also inspired by my own adventures as a pet, and the music of Spiritual Front and Ordo Rosarius Equilibrio. I was supposed to write smut, but it took over 2000 words to get to even a hint of eroticism. I split this into two, so I can post this now and get back to figuring out how to write smut. Also on Ao3

“Look around you, there is no one here, just you and me. Don’t you want to just move on, and fulfil your promise?” he said, looking down on you, making sure you knew you were beneath him, yet comfortable in the chair he had shown to you. Talent was hard to come by, and keeping passion alive in the military environment was hard, yet Tarkin and you shared something, a drive maybe, in your respective fields. And now you were there, in front of him, afraid to ask forgiveness or leniency, as he had summoned you there before any of the information the Imperial Security Bureau had gathered found their way to other ears in the Empire, or even the Imperial Star Destroyer you were stationed at. In ordinary situations, Tarkin would not have hesitated to act, but there was something, maybe an aspect of your character that suggested he might be able to wrap you in strings with ease and play politics through you at some point in the future. So he offered his hand, an open offer that may include as much or as little as he said, because the other option was being at the mercy of ISB.

“Yes, Grand Admiral,” you replied and, with some fear in your movement, you took his hand. It was a firm and surprisingly warm handshake, which reminded you to move your gaze to meet his, blushing for forgetting that again. It was embarrassing, but he seemed to not be offended by your mistake, or maybe it was refreshing to not have to reprimand a young officer with a cocky gaze and ego larger than Coruscant. You, on the other hand, just wanted to do your job, create something with your hands, something to make the world better, or even just make someone’s life better. Design jewelry, facilities, architecture, maybe get to make more accessible designs for the Empire. The only way to that was through a handshake with Tarkin and submitting to be his pawn. 

-----

There weren’t many secluded spaces in Coruscant, but you had one in mind. It was not really one where you could be alone for sure, but it was a bit out of the way and up a stairway that was rarely the best way to offices on the ship, so you pushed past a few office workers to get there. It was not as quiet as your apartment, but at least no one could find you there, at least not as quickly as if you were just crying in your room. Yet, you wanted to be found, to be comforted, not right now but exactly at this moment. You were strong enough to take care of yourself, and crying over some words from the Director was just embarrassing. He was someone you looked up to, someone whose works inspired you, and his critique of your work was harsh, not like it wasn’t unearned, but it hurt, it made you feel useless, and running away was the only thing you knew at that moment. 

Stopping around a corner, just a few steps away from a walkway used by the patrolling officers, you slumped to the street, but to the ground, not caring if the skirt was ruined. This was just another day at the Director’s design department for his vanity project, and this was not the first piece of clothing it had claimed, but definitely the first that was messed by you. 

The air of Coruscant was brisk for once, the evening was young and getting colder, and the lights danced in your vision, bleeding into each other in the skyline. Different shades of yellow, red, and orange, and other colours of the rainbow accenting them, the skyline was different once again. Maybe it wasn’t, maybe you just felt like it, but the feeling wasn’t anything new. No matter how long you spent at a place, you failed to find your place. Like there was a barrier that prevented you from crossing over to other people’s lives, failing to live like others. So here you were, looking at a city that held as many secrets as you, viewing it like a theatre stage, something you wanted to believe to be real, yet not, so you have to remind yourself to believe the façade, that it is not just a painting, a stage, and that you are a person sitting in the shadows of Coruscant’s administrative district. Some days it felt like you were more part of the shadows than flesh, and today was one of those days.

The com beeped, someone was trying to reach you. As much as you’d like to just leave it, it might be work-related, and you didn’t want any more tears from there. 

“Imperial Military Department of Advanced Weapons Research’s director’s assistant’s...'' you answered the call, but were cut off, thankfully, not having to recite your full title and workplace. There was only a minor hesitation, yet enough for Tarkin to notice, but he kept his words under too much control for someone like you to notice, but you knew. It was obvious and very much like him to notice and note small things like that so he could use them to his advantage in the future.

“We should meet,” Tarkin’s voice was matter of fact, cool but not cold, and almost demanding but not unreasonable. He knew what he wanted, you had it, and you had to meet him to answer those demands. This sudden call made you smile, a sweet, pleased smile that someone like Grand Moff would want to meet you, and you had no reason to refuse.

“Certainly, sir. Should we…” you started, yet were cut off by him. Not rudely, not even suddenly, just noting he would rather have things his way than waste his precious time with meaningless chit-chat, and that made you happy, having someone to tell you what they needed from you, so you didn’t have to disappoint them by trying to guess what they actually meant with their words.

“Your apartment, tonight. I will meet you there in an hour,” Tarkin stated clearly, and with another “Yes sir” from you, the conversation was over.

The mix of emotions was both delightfully ironic as tears dropped down your cheeks, but there was a warm feeling in the chest under a heavy weight and the warmth, with Grand Moff’s words ringing in your head, made you smile through the hurt. With a sweep of your hand, you dried your tears with your sleeve, smudging the mascara on your face and the sleeve of your jacket.

Since he had said it would take him an hour to meet you at your place, you decided to walk the way there, spending around 30 minutes navigating the streets of Coruscant. The streets offered a variety of sounds, loud and intimidating, but this was one of those days you needed sounds to remind you of where you were, and the slight exercise helped to ground you to the moment, to your body. All that was thrown away as you opened the door to find Tarkin sitting in your living room. A small squeak left your lips, but her own hand on her lips silenced any other noise she might have made, and with a long breath and sigh she tried to calm her pulse. 

“I’m sorry, sir, your presence surprised me,” you said, turning away for a moment to close the door, “Would you like some Corellian whiskey, maybe tea from Felucia?”.

“Whiskey is fine. You might want one for yourself too,” he said, “There are things I want to discuss first hand with you rather than trust these… rumors”.

A surprised look over your shoulder met the Moff’s blue eyes. Certainly there wasn’t anything you had done that would merit rumours, but what others found interesting to talk about wasn’t something that ever made sense. It already felt like the Director had pitted others against you, yet found time to give you kind gestures when no one was looking. He was more than harsh with his words when others were looking, but in the end it seemed like some of your more out there ideas were incorporated to the designs. The whiskey’s smell and drip on your finger made you quickly realize you had poured more than enough in one glass and had to pour from that glass to the other. You could drink the whole glass, might even that night, but Grand Moff would frown upon it, and his disapproval would not be something you could handle at the moment. So you took the glasses, one in each hand, and gave one to Tarkin with a kind smile, only to be met with his unreadable expression. No matter how you smiled to him, he never returned even a twitch of a lip, but it didn’t matter, the fact he had found his way here to share a drink with you was more than enough to send your heart fluttering.

As you sat down, Grand Moff began his questioning that felt like an interrogation if you didn’t know him better. “What have you told Krennic? Or your coworkers?” Grand Moff asked, narrowing his eyes as he studied your expressions. A sigh left your lips.

“Nothing. Just what you told me: I’m a design engineer, was recruited by the COMPNOR and transferred to ISB so I could be more useful to Empire with my technical knowledge, but I’m more interested in the designing process. So now I’m designing Krennic’s pet project, a death laser in the sky,” you answered. You wanted to ask about the rumours, but you knew better than to ask, he would tell you when or if you needed to know. 

“Nothing else? To anyone, not even a friend?” he inquired.

“No, I… Don’t really spend time with any of them, I’ve only exchanged a few words with Director Krennic after hours. Nothing other than work related, except with Krennic the other day,” you said, and the small space where you drew a breath was more than enough to make Tarkin think you had something to hide, but you knew better than to try hiding anything from him.

“A conversation with Krennic? And you are certain you didn’t say anything that might catch his interest?” Tarkin asked, with a raise of his eyebrow.

“No, he just wanted to ask how I was managing my new position, and why I was staying for so long after hours. All I said I was fine, I had nothing better to do so I finished the design, he seemed to like it. He said he appreciated my enthusiasm and how clean my designs were,” you said, and a warm, happy smile grew on your face, heating your cheeks. Tarkin put his glass on a table and stood up, taking very deliberate steps toward you, so you put your glass away and stood up, just in case he needed something from you. Your heart stopped, skipped a few beats, as Tarkin pushed you to the wall, gripping your shoulders and keeping you an arms length away. The suddenness of the motion and pain of hitting the wall while strong fingers dug into your flesh finally made you look into his eyes, looking for an answer for the change in him. His eyes now a few shades darker in the shadows, his lips dry and breath hot, and with an expression of furious disappointment, he puts two fingers, long and warm, of his right hand under your chin to keep your eyes on him. 

“You do as I tell you, always?” he asked.

“Always, sir,” you answered.

“Then take off your shirt,” he whispered before taking a step back so he could see you fully. A shiver of cold went through your body, but you complied. As your hands began opening the buttons, quietly trembling in fear, Tarkin licked his dry lips and let his eyes wander over your body, letting his mind memorise the patterns of your curves. Though his hand was no longer under your chin, you tried to keep your eyes up, trying to meet his gaze and follow his silent command. Shirt open, you throw it on the floor, and Tarkin immediately commands you to take off your skirt. With a small flick from your wrist, you open the zipper and let your skirt fall to the floor. The mock garter wasn’t something Grand Moff had expected, but the red suited you well and it left your bottom nicely exposed, only panties left to guard your cunt.

“To the bed, now, on your hands and knees,” Grand Moff ordered, and you obeyed. As you walked to the bedroom, he followed in your footsteps. You could hear him open his belt buckle. It let out an audible cling as he pulled it through the loops and folded it, a sharp snap as he felt it in his hands. As you assume your position, he slapped your bottom with his bare hand once, then twice, and grabbed the bottom. He wanted to go on, wanted to feel your body, taste and devour you, but he had to control the situation, he wanted to control every aspect of this encounter. With a word he could make you cum, make you please him in a way he had not felt before, he would make you scream in pain and pleasure, he would torture you in all the ways that made you wet, and he would make you like every second of it. The rules were simple and lax: No kisses on the mouth, and no lasting scars. There was no love in his desires, but the jealousy that he felt when he had found out Krennic had asked about you from ISB, seeming like you had caught his eye and he wanted to get close to you. The smile you gave when talking about Krennic made Tarkin feel something different, something he needed to let out, and now he could, with the leather belt on your bottom. Slap, flick, smack, slap, few seconds of silence, slap, smack. He let out a heavy sigh, letting you rest for a moment there, in front of him holding back tears and trying to adjust to the sudden pain. It wasn’t unexpected, just harder than before, and your hands gripped the bed sheets, knuckles almost as white as the sheet itself. 

“You may moan for me,” Tarkin instructed before letting his hand grab the cheeks of your bottoms, gently giving it a spank with the palm of his hand. A moan, needy and pained, left your lips, and was answered with a twitch in his lips, like a smile, but there was no one to see it, at least at that moment.

[cinnaminsvga]

🌸 social media au where y/n posts a fake boyfriend application on twitter as a dare but ends up seeking something real in the long run (aka how to fall in love the zillennial way) 🌸

A/N: I know I said this update wouldn’t be written, but I decided to fix the little drabble I already had written and... It’s not as bad as I thought and now I’m moderately happy with it. Anyway... We’re entering angst city babey so please put on your seatbelts because we are SOARING! || W.C. 1.8K

prev // part 18 of ? // next masterlist here.

[updates every 6PM PST]

After sending his last text to you, Namjoon is only slightly surprised when he sees your caller ID flashing on his phone screen. When he looks at the time, he notices that it had taken you less than a minute for you to call him, no doubt ready to scream your head off at his outrageous suggestion. Admittedly, he knows that his idea might be a little outside of your comfort zone, but he believes you can do it. If his people reading skills are even remotely average, then he’s sure that it’ll work if you just—

“KIM NAMJOON! HOW IN THE WORLD DID YOU COME UP WITH THAT CONCLUSION?” Your voice is loud enough to burst an eardrum, but luckily, Namjoon had already expected your volume and had held his phone an arm away. In his nine-ish days of knowing you, he’s somewhat accustomed to your theatrics, though you’re still no match for Hoseok’s excited shrieks.

“Hello Y/N,” Namjoon hums, sitting up groggily from his bed. It’s a bit too early to go to sleep, but he supposes that your panicked screams are going to keep him up a little bit longer. “I feel as though you’re overreacting a little.”

“A little?” You scoff loudly, and Namjoon can imagine you pacing circles in your room. You did always seem a little fidgety when you two went out together. “Namjoon, you can’t just expect me to go on a date with Jungkook—“

“Why not? You guys go out all the time, don’t you?” Namjoon points out, smiling slightly at your exasperated huffs.

“Well, that’s different! Those were platonic hangouts! Just bros being bros!”

“Then change the context a little bit. You don’t have to ask him to be your boyfriend just to go on a date.”

“Namjoon, I know you’re a smart man but I don’t think your math skills are all that great,” you say brusquely. “That doesn’t add up! If I ask him on a date, then he’ll know I’m into him and—“

“And that’s a bad thing?” Namjoon interrupts, raising a brow. “Y/N, we both know you’re being a little unreasonable right now.”

You splutter for a moment, but you find that you’re unable to retort. Namjoon smirks, continuing, “Y/N, I know you’re worried that Jungkook might get swept away now that he’s quote-unquote ‘single.’ I get it. But if you’re not going do anything about it and suffer in silence, then he’s definitely going to leave. Besides, I already told you that he probably likes you back, judging from how jealous he got. You could probably even ask your friends and they’d tell you the same.”

You snort. “God, I’d rather die than talk about… love stuff with those freaks I call friends,” you cough out a laugh, muffling the sound before it can continue. Namjoon knows you’re a bit conscious of your “unflattering” snorts, but he just finds them cute. A lot of the things you don’t like about yourself are cute in Namjoon’s eyes. “I can’t even imagine going to any of them about this… They’d just bully me and make me do something I don’t want to do!”

“Isn’t that basically what I’m doing right now?” Namjoon laughs, giggling even harder when he hears your tired groan.

“Yeah, but you’re nice. Unlike those meanies,” you say. Namjoon hates to admit it, but he does appreciate being special to you, even if it’s over something trivial like this.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do,” Namjoon starts. He can hear you humming in agreement, but he doesn’t stop there. “But, it is a suggestion. Seeing as how you don’t have any other idea how to solve this mess, I’d say go for it. What’s the worse thing that can happen?”

“Um? I get rejected? Hello?”

“You don’t have to let him know it’s a date, you know.”

“What do you mean? Namjoon, you should stop speaking in riddles because I honestly don’t have enough brain cells for this, clearly.”

Namjoon sighs. “I guess what I’m trying to say is… What if you fake date him?” When you don’t reply immediately, Namjoon is quick to keep talking. “Not that I’m asking you to stop fake dating me! What I’m trying to say is… Maybe try to rekindle the rumor that you and Jungkook are dating? He doesn’t have to know it’s a date, so long as everyone else thinks that you two are.”

“I… I guess?” You sound unsure, though Namjoon admits it’s kind of a long shot to begin with, not when you wouldn’t know the last thing about being subtle. He kind of wants to throttle you, in a gentle way. It’s honestly frustrating to see you like this, and he just wishes he could… Make the problem go away.

That would be easy. If Y/N just stopped pining after Jungkook, then he could just come in and—

His thoughts skid to a halt, nearly slapping himself to keep from going down that road again. Look at him, trying to help you with your mess when even he can’t get a handle on his own emotions. What is going on inside my head, he thinks sadly to himself.

“Listen, it’ll be really easy! All you have to do is text him and say, ‘Hey, wanna go have dinner with me tomorrow?’ but bring him somewhere nicer, perhaps? Then take a photo of him all dressed up and looking boyfriend-y and post it on Instagram. I’m sure that’ll shut people up.”

“Namjoon, I don’t know if you’re aware, but Jungkook’s definition of ‘dressing up’ is combat boots, a hoodie, and his god-awful backpack the size of Africa. He looks like a nerd.”

“I mean, you kinda dress alike…” Namjoon mutters, and he’s thankful that you don’t hear his slight slip-up. He clears his throat. “A-anyway, I’m sure it’ll be fine? I think it would be more suspicious if he wore a suit and tie or something. So long as you guys look cozy and comfy together, I’m sure people will take the hint. If worse comes to worst, I can maybe slip something to Johnny and he can retract his statement or something.”

“I hope to god that isn’t the case,” you say. Namjoon nods, before realizing you can’t even see him.

“Right. Well, I think everything should work out perfectly. Just ask him to some popular couples restaurant. Maybe the nice Italian place in Hongdae? Something more romantic, not necessarily fancy.”

There’s a pause on your end for a moment causing Namjoon to sweat a little, wondering if he might be overstepping. He does genuinely want to help you, though he hopes he isn’t actually weirding you out somehow. He’s not adept at handling love problems as much as he’s trying to appear to be, since he’s mostly using the romance novels he had read during his teen years as his sole source of reference. This is what I get for not dating for so long, Namjoon thinks, grimacing.

“Namjoon.” You break the silence, your voice quieter than before. Namjoon has to strain his ears a little, pursing his lips as he waits for your response. “Are you…”

Namjoon tilts his head. “Am I?”

Namjoon hears you hesitate, stuttering syllables over his phone speaker like you aren’t quite sure how to ask your question. “Do you remember when I asked you a few days ago if you were sure you don’t actually have a girlfriend?”

“Yeah?”

“I just… I don’t know how to say this without being weird, but I just want to say you’re great. Like,” you huff out a laugh, incredulous. “You’re just… The perfect package? You’re so kind and so sweet and it’s just? Almost mysterious how you don’t have someone special to call your own yet.”

Namjoon smiles wryly to himself, head bowed as he stares at his wrinkled bedsheets. “I suppose other people don’t feel the same way.” He tries forcing out a laugh, but it sounds a little strangled. His chest feels tight, strangely. Hopefully, you don’t notice.

“No, I highly doubt that! You’re literally the perfect guy. Any person would be lucky to have you as their boyfriend.” You sound almost indignant, like you can’t imagine anyone ever thinking badly about him. He almost wants to laugh, but he tightens his hands into fists instead, digging his nails into his palms and leaving crescents in their wake.

“Well then… I guess that makes you lucky to have me, then?” Namjoon nearly slaps his hands to his mouth, a cold tingle of embarrassment mixed with fear running down his spine. Did he really just say that— “What I mean is, erm…”

“N-no, I get you.” You’re giggling, but��is he imagining it?—you sound a little nervous to his ears. If he thinks hard enough, he can almost imagine you blushing, bottom lip trapped underneath your teeth. “I guess I am lucky to be your fake girlfriend, huh? Even for just a few weeks?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon breathes out the word, guilt washing over him like waves. Here he is, feeling things that he shouldn’t be, over a girl who was never his to begin with. There are seedlings in his chest, barely anything to write home about. But he knows—a gardener can see the garden even before the flowers have bloomed. Each day he spends with you is another day they get a chance to grow, and he’s afraid he’ll soon be overrun, unable to handle the forest that is bound to erupt. “Just a few weeks,” he echoes, unable to completely hide the sadness from his words.

“I guess I am just being melodramatic about everything, huh?” you say. It takes a moment for Namjoon to even remember what the two of you had been talking about, so caught up in his thoughts that he has to pinch himself back to reality.

“Think of it as a funny story to tell your grandkids,” Namjoon says.

You laugh, and Namjoon can feel a seedling sprout its first leaf. “Yeah. Definitely. God, I can’t even begin to think about kids… Not when I can’t even ask him out on a fucking date.”

“You can do it, Y/N.” Namjoon whispers. He flops back down onto his bed, eyes half-closed as he stares at his cracked ceiling. If he breathes quietly enough, he can hear the sounds of Seoul outside his windowpane. If he stops breathing altogether, he might be able to hear you across the city, your socked feet padding towards your bed, curling up into your own blanket.

“Thank you, Namjoon. Really.”

For what? Namjoon leaves that part unspoken. “You’re welcome,” he says instead. He drops the call, feeling a little emptier than before.

[konaizumi]

Fish Upon the Sky ep 4 thoughts/reactions

oh poor pi, he was so happy about kissing nan

they went hard last ep to make the scene all romantic with the lighting and the camera work and the speech so seeing how the scene actually went was hilarious

poor mork tho, baby’s so confused

but what happened immediately after?

usually bl fangirls really annoy me but i think these ones don’t bc they’re so over top that they’re clearly poking fun at the shipper stereotype rather than acting as like a weird self-insert

adding brightwin, pluemchimon, and earthmix to the list of self-references

but they way they imagine all the scenerios vs how they actually happened lol

okay but poor phuwin who had to actually put that much toothpaste in his mouth, i couldn’t stop cringing

but how long was nan standing there, watching pi furiously brush his teeth with more and more toothpaste?

y’all, the extent to which i ship nanmorkpi is becoming a problem

i love pi and i need to protect him

i’ve talked about this before, but everyone keeps going on about pi being oblivious to mork’s blatant flirting, but i don’t really think it’s all that blatant? like the flirting itself isn’t really that over the top, and combined with pi’s distrust of people, his nan-vision, and him thinking mork likes nan, it’s really not that unreasonable that he wouldn’t quite pick up on mork’s flirting and only think of it as him acting weird

the shippers are actually pretty funny

we need more bl’s like this that truly don’t take themselves too seriously

“we’ll be back for you, mork” lol

pi, pls just fucking say that you’re in the box

aw, they usually eat lunch together

just how early did duen walk out of class to have missed so much?

duen is so in love with meen and i am here for it

that narrator really is us, huh?

the look of pain on duen’s face when he trashtalked himself

but what’s the harm in telling meen that he’s and engineering student? you’re way more likely to get caught lying about being a med student than being a first year engineer

he wouldn’t tease you tho

me and duen: you can’t just end it here!?

cannot express how much i love duen, ready to end his friends for accidentally beating up pi

jeans acting things out with the mix stix

poor meen, hahaha

duen comes up with the plan but pi goes along with it so i’m not sure who the real dumbass is here

another tally to mork’s gay panic moments (pretty much whenever pi’s face gets that close)

okay but did he have to eat the popcorn off his head? like was that really necessary? couldn’t they have just had mork run his fingers through pi’s hair to get the popcorn out and achieve the same effect?

so we know nan knows mork like pi, but does he know pi likes him? like they way he supports mork and how he acts around pi makes me feel like he doesn’t know

also that scene where nan tells mork to go easy on pi totally gave off the vibes that mork and nan are dating and are pursuing pi but maybe that’s just me

that cloud sweater meen is wearing is so cute

oof, were those costumes really necessary?

as soon as they crashed the car i was like ‘that’s gonna be nan’s car isn’t it?’

this scene was very funny, but the second hand embarrassment did kill me several times over

lol pi’s shrill screech about his plan

meen got himself stuck in tree trying to save a kitten (but did he get the kitten?)

but the back in forth between their zoomed in faces

okay but the person in the balloon scene is definitely not mork or nan, so is it just not supposed to be either of them and is some third character we haven’t scene yet, or did they just have a random person stand in during filming but it actually is mork or nan?

i was not expecting a confession this soon, but i think it’s a good thing because mork still has a ways to go to break down pi’s walls and having pi actually fall for him

i also think it’s a good thing for pi to know about mork’s feelings early on because now that he’s forced to see mork in a romantic context, i think he’ll realize his own feelings faster

good ep, not a ton happened, but i think it’ll be more interesting next week so can’t wait

[bangtanfancamp]

Into the Garden (JJK)

∴ masterlist

∴ series masterlist (part one of 2 )

∴ pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader

∴ word count: 5k

∴ rating: pg-13

∴ genre: fluff, romance, strangers to lovers, dinner theater au? Lol

∴ warnings: none to speak of, eventual affection? sexual tension? Probable future make out sesh

∴ summary: It’s a Friday night out with your friends— a perfect opportunity to try out that mysterious new restaurant everybody’s talking about. Always game for new things and a good time, even you never expected to stumble upon the smart, incredibly handsome waiter you meet there who knows his flowers. Who knows where the night will take you now?

∴ vibey playlist that kept me company during writing

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“God, this place is gorgeous.” You gasped.

You felt yourself go still once you’d finally managed to push the heavy wooden doors open. Was it unreasonable to wish you lived in a restaurant if it looked like this? Because it was beautiful in here. Every corner was immaculately decorated- rich, emerald velvet in the waiting area, cognac wood floors, industrial light fixtures… each element carefully designed, but aged and warm, like maybe this place had been here forever, and you’d only just noticed it.

And the plants- there were plants everywhere, on every available surface. Shades of green wrapping and weaving around iron railing. Ivy crawling up the side of the exposed brick like nature was trying to take this luxurious place back for itself. You’d never seen anything quite like it.

This place was all anyone could talk about lately, but you’d never seen it first hand until tonight. It had been your coworker’s bright idea to get a bunch of the staff together and blow off some steam here this Friday night. She’d even wiggled her way into getting the company to pay for it by calling it a “team building experience,” a.k.a “let’s all get drunk together and moan about our problems on the boss’s dime.” You’d be skipping the alcohol tonight, but this place was a million years beyond your “guac at chipotle is a treat” personal budget and there was no way you were going to miss out on a free dinner here.

So far, no regrets as you wandered across the hardwood. You hadn’t even eaten any of the food yet, but it was already your new favorite place in the city on decor alone. And on top of that, you had something else to look forward to. Apparently, the hook here — not that it really needed one— was an upscale version of dinner and a mystery. You wondered how that was supposed to fit with this whole industrial utopia theme.

You hadn’t been to a restaurant that did a show with dinner since you saw Cinderella at a children’s dinner theater in eighth grade, but the shabby, primary colored castles of your memory clashed distinctly with the elegance of this place. The gaping imbalance made you chuckle. Sherlock dinner theater and artisanal hand glazed pottery seemed like an odd mix to you, but you were intrigued nonetheless, knowing you’d have fun whether the plot was brilliant or not.

After gawking an appropriate amount of time in the foyer, you realized you should probably check in for your group since you’d arrived first. Gliding through the Garden in search of the hostess booth, you found it hidden away beneath the shade of an almost prehistorically large fiddle leaf fig tree. You smiled up at the gargantuan plant, fingers tracing the edge of a leaf. If the millennial garden of Eden interior of the place hadn’t already been an indication, this alone reinforced what a miracle worker their main gardener must be.

Every fiddle leaf fig you’d ever owned had died many a gruesome death long before it ever even reached two feet, but this one almost brushed the exposed ceiling beams. You wished you could ask whoever was in charge here for some pointers, but they’d probably smell your plant mom failures on you from a mile away and decide not to waste their time. Plants just never seemed to like you back the way you loved them… oh well. That’s what plastic is for, you supposed.

Getting back to the task at hand, you leaned up on your toes to look for assistance, quickly noticing that the station was empty. Maybe they’re busy watering the crops, you chuckled to yourself wondering if this place really was pretentious enough to grow their own inventory-they certainly could- when you were suddenly greeted by the most stunningly handsome boy you’d ever seen.

“Hello, welcome to the Garden.” The living, breathing Adonis statue could speak apparently. You tried not to stare as he smiled back at you politely, his silky curls shagging about his face as he slid behind the hostess booth. Holy crap. Did they grow him in the back too?

He was beautiful- some undiscovered demigod with broad shoulders and a jawline so strong it could cut glass. He lifted his eyebrows pleasantly, waiting to assist. “I apologize for the wait—how may I be of service this evening?”

You couldn’t help the silly grin that spilled across your face when his wide chocolate eyes smiled your way.

“Um, Hi. I need a table for, lets see… 1,2,3,4...10 people I think?” You counted unashamedly on your fingers as the host’s lips quirked into a smile. “Oh! Actually, you know what? What am I doing—do you guys take reservations? My friend Beth might have called about us earlier?”

“Let me see…” The boy’s amused doe eyes drifted over a computer screen. You fiddled with the edges of a particularly plump succulent on the counter as you waited. “Here it is. Beth party of 10. Now usually when we have a group that big, we do offer the option of one of our private rooms. You guys would have your own separate narrative from whatever the main restaurant is doing….Would you be interested in that this evening?”

“Sure! Why not—that sounds amazing!” You answered, a bit too enthusiastically admittedly, but when his face lit up at your bubbliness, you found you couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed. Not when a boy who looked like that was looking at you that way, all soft around the edges. Will you be there? you wondered.

“Okay, then you’ll come right this way. Oh! And you’ll need this.” Dipping into a crystal bowl behind the counter, he fished out a crisp white piece of paper and slipped it into your hand, fingers brushing over yours as he did.

Something in your belly reacted sharply to the contact. Apparently, the electric crackle affected him too. His already round eyes widened, a nervous chuckle tumbling from his lips as your cheeks blossomed a warm, soft pink.

Suddenly, a ruckus erupted behind you, crashing into the tranquil silence. You turned over your shoulder to see your friends piling in the tall front door, laughing and smiling widely at you.

Tearing his eyes away from you with a self conscious gulp, the host cleared his throat before leading you all back past fountains, lush greenery and elaborate floral installations into yet another beautiful space. This room was just as intricate as the rest of the restaurant, with its warm terra cotta-colored walls dripping with ivy and orchids, lit with the dappled light of melting pillared candles piled atop the elaborate raw wood table spanning the length of the room.

As everyone happily clamored to find a seat along the banquet table, you noticed your friend, Erik, crashing along its opposite edge. Erik had been a football player in college, some defensive position you didn’t know the title of. He was a mammoth of a man, his blonde Nordic hair making him look like an off brand, out of shapeThor.

He paid little to no attention to where he threw his weight around like a puppy who didn’t yet know his size. So when he dropped himself onto the neatly slatted bench (gosh, every detail here was dripping in aesthetics) and promptly leaned against the wall, crushing the intricate orchid display, you couldn’t help but laugh. You heard the host’s strangled gasp and giggled at the beautiful boy's wide eyes as his horror-stricken face went pale across the room. Before he seemed to realize he was even doing it, his feet began to march across the floor to say something to your friend, until his politeness overtook him and he froze a few feet away. He grumbled to himself as your friend carelessly peeled himself off of the bench, annoyed complaining about something scratchy digging into his back. The host was positively fuming as irritation ticked in his jaw, but His big brown eyes betrayed his disappointment and downright bewilderment as the bedraggled orchids limped back into place.

“No.... They’re ruined. Now what am I supposed to display?”  You heard him attempt to mutter under his breath, but his anger seemed to make his volume louder than intended. He was so flustered—it was oddly...kind of adorable. You couldn’t help but laugh. You knew your friend had meant no harm. He was a sweet guy, but generally oblivious, so things like this seemed to happen a lot. Chuckling under your breath, you couldn’t help but notice the strain in the host’s angular jawline, not to mention how good he looked with his eyebrows furrowed like that. Intense. It made you want to kiss the creases to relax him. Man, this guy was really getting to you...

Maybe it’s time to have some fun, you thought.

Leaning over the edge of the bench, you whispered surreptitiously, “Hey, maybe you should consider wheatgrass instead.” You sent a quick wink in the host’s direction, a thick cloud of giggles falling from your lips. Lashes fluttering , the poor guy seemed startled by your comment. He had been so wrapped up in blinders over his restaurant being ruined that he hadn’t realized anyone had been watching the entire interaction. For a quick second, embarrassment flashed over his features. The sudden chagrin on his face as he nervously ruffled his hair softened him. The Greek god of a man suddenly a soft, flustered boy. He looked so... sweet.

The whole scene gave you the oddest urge to pinch his cheeks and tell him how cute he was. But just as fast as it had appeared, the innocence in his wide eyes was gone, his composure swiftly resettling itself as his shoulders rolled down, his posture lifting him back up to full height. His confidence was back, and so was a lopsided smile that you decided you quite liked. “Might not be the worst idea.... certainly less overhead,” he sighed resignedly, hands hanging low on his hips as the tick in his jaw loosened, replaced instead by the beginning of a smirk.

“Much less upkeep. Less horizontal space. Equal level of pretension. I see no downsides,” you shrugged nonchalantly. You felt your own smile bloom wider the longer your gazes stayed fixed on each other. His eyes were dazzling- coffee brown and deep- as they glittered back at you. “I’ll look into it...might be a solid option. Have,” he hesitated. “Have you been here before? I don’t think I’ve seen you... I get the feeling I would have remembered you.” His face was so soft and unguarded, his pretty mouth just a bit too open as he searched his memory for a glimpse of you. You pulled your lip between your teeth as your smile threatened to grow.

“No,” you shook your head, hair bouncing around you. “It’s my first time here. First time for all of us actually. Hence, my friends lack of good graces with your horticultural displays.” you offered an apologetic shrug.

“May my orchids rest in peace,” he sighed with a shake of his head. “Not your fault though. You guys, uh, celebrating something?” He was suddenly too close for a stranger, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Oh, no. We just work in that massive upstart down the block. Kept hearing about the place, and Instagram kept hacking our feeds with ads for it so we finally caved. Figured we’d try it out. ” You waved across the table gesturing to everyone. There were all so deep in their own side conversations that no one seemed to pay any mind to you lingering oddly with the wait staff. “Glad to see the marketing is working out,” he chuckled. “Well...if it’s your first time, then you’ll need a proper guide through the story.” A glint of mischief sparkled deep in his chocolate eyes, and you felt something effervescent glitter up your spine in excitement. “I suppose we will.” With a bow from his hip and a nod, he turned on his heel with no explanation, leaving you to smile down at your menu like an idiot in his absence. Trying to read was pointless honestly. The letters might as well have been in Arabic as they swam across the page- you weren’t processing anything. Far too lost in a dreamy eyed splendor over the boy you’d just met until a bony elbow nudged its way between your ribs. “What was THAT all about?” Eileen’s eyebrows bounced with curiosity. “ I don’t know.” You answered honestly as your head shook. At this point, you were smiling so much your cheeks were beginning to hurt. “But my God, isn’t he CUTE?” You hid behind your hands. “Cute??” Eileen shoved you in the shoulder. “He’s not a corgi, y/n. He’s a grown man.” She bit her lip. “A GORGEOUS, full grown man....did you see him when he walked away? God, what a view.” You pressed your forehead into her shoulder and whimpered, “I knowww. His smile, those thighs, my god...and his butt. Did you see it? It’s better than mine.” You both fell into a fit of giggles.

“All I know is that if you don’t give him your number then he’s definitely getting mine tonight. Or anything else he’d like for that matter.” Your jaw fell open at her brazenness. “Hey! slow your roll. You can’t call dibs before I’ve even gotten his name!” you laughed.

“Then you better work fast, babe. Cuz butts like that don’t stay single for long.”  She tipped her head to the side matter of factly.

“Oh my gosh, shut up! You don’t know when he’ll come back. He might hear you.” You breathed.

“Let him. It’ll make my job easier.” She bit down seductively on her red straw. Swatting at her, you both giggled before back into the table’s office gossip.

Apparently, Elliot had shown up to the office wasted again today- either from getting trashed the night before or from getting sloshed the morning of, no one was quite sure at this point. Either way, everyone was annoyed as hell that he’d never get more than a slap on the wrist for it since his dad managed their branch. Nepotism still alive and well. Clearly.

Popping an entire potsticker in your mouth, your belly ached with laughter as Sean told you all how his assistant had accidentally walked in on two higher ups making out in the supply closet this morning and how traumatized the poor intern had been. He described in detail how the poor slob had still tried to get around them to get the extra printer paper, and what a mess the whole ordeal had been. He owed you a clean fifty bucks now.

With your keen eyes, you’d been the first person to be suspicious of them- you’d called it a solid month ago- and had put your money where your mouth was. You’d started the office pool that they were in fact a secret couple- a bet you’d clearly just won if Sean bleak expression was anything to go by. Lunch on him all week. Potstickers til i burst? Don’t mind if I do.

It had been a great evening, full of unwinding and bonding. So great, that you’d completely forgotten about the mystery element of the dinner. That is, until a crystalline voice spoke above you, snapping you to attention.

“Pardon me, everybody. But it’s time for the mystery of the evening to begin.”

Surprised, your eyes darted up to see the cute guy from earlier. He was standing right behind you. Your pulse spiked as he sent a smirk your way. What were you supposed to do with that? He was so close now that you could hear the fabric of his dress shirt rustle every time he shifted or gestured above you. With every movement, a burst of his scent surrounded you. It was something citrus, something fresh. A dizzy smile tugged at your lips as it enveloped you like a cloud. God, you wanted to bury your nose in it. You were such a sucker for a good smelling boy...

And this one was so in your personal space. Which should have been off putting, honestly. Especially since you’d barely known him for half an evening. It was a bold choice on his part, to get so close to you. It should have been a turn off. Should have. But it wasn’t. Instead, you found yourself almost vibrating with excitement at the proximity of him. Whatever this gravitational pull was around him, you were perfectly content to get pulled straight into it.

If you’d had the nerve to, he truly was close enough that if you tipped your body back just a few degrees you could’ve rested your head against his lean stomach if you’d wanted to… which, of course you did want to do… but you’d only just met him. So instead, you bit down to stifle your smile, eyes flicking over to Eileen who was just as giddy on your behalf.

God he’s so cute, you thought. Wait- is he still talking? Crap-focus, you scolded yourself, tuning back into his monologue.

“As everyone knows, we all have the same five senses. But what happens when we lose one? How does it affect our instincts? Our gut? How does it change the way we listen to each other?” he paced around the edges of the table, hands clasped behind his tailbone. It made his dress shirt bunch deliciously in all the right places, and you bit back a smile. It was getting harder and harder to hide your little infatuation.

“When each of you arrived,” he continued, “you were each given a character and a backstory- No one should know it but you- but only one of you received the card that said killer. Someone at this table has committed a murder, but who? Often, our eyes can deceive us, so as part of tonight’s story, your sight will be taken from you as you try to decipher the truth. Can you rely on your other senses, your hearing, your intuition to solve this case?” A few other waiters approached the table with baskets in hand before the room went dark- completely.

Not the “the lights are off but we can all still see” kind of dark. It was the “it's so black in here that you can feel it” kind of dark. The kind of complete nothingness you never get with the ambient glow of street lights and screens everywhere. It was heavy and consuming, the absoluteness of the suddenly inky black room.

Swirling your own fingers in front of your face, you saw absolutely nothing. Not even the glint of your own jewelry, and something fantastic bubbled up in you. This is going to be so fun. Your heart began to race in anticipation- you didn’t even know what for yet. You felt your knuckles wrap around the bench beneath you, bracing, waiting, holding your breath, wondering when the night would finally be-

Only to have your thoughts stop. Completely.

Each individual one of them halted in their tracks by the sudden contact of warm fingertips against your skin. The gentle press of a large set of hands melted into the tops of your shoulders, thumbs bracing on the back of your neck. It was him again, wasn’t it?

He squeezed once, tense and hesitant despite his obvious strength, like he wasn't sure touching you was the best idea, but he couldn’t back out now that he’d started. The delicacy of it left you buzzing. In the silence, the pads of his fingers sunk deeply into your skin, and your breath caught. You’d never been this grateful for off the shoulder clothing in your life.

“May I?” he asked, tone honeyed and sweet.

You realized he meant the blindfold you’d heard so much about before you came and nodded your head just once, tension sticking in your throat as you tried to swallow it down. It was only then that you realized he probably couldn’t see you in the darkness. You’d have to gather your wits enough to verbally respond. You hoped he wouldn’t catch the way the “yes” that left your lips was embarrassingly breathless.

You heard him hum in response, holding whatever was left of your breath as his fingertips slowly fell from the tops of your shoulders, dragging across the edges your sleeves like he was in no rush to let you go. It was a strange intimacy from a stranger, but to be honest, you didn’t want him to let go either.

Until, quick as a whisper, his warmth was gone, leaving you alone in the dark. The shift so abrupt that part of you wondered if you’d imagined the last thirty seconds. His lingering hands had fallen away so abruptly at the end. Where had he gone?

It all felt like a fever dream you’d cooked up, like your own subconscious was mocking you for wanting him so bad. For a second, you wondered if you should be concerned by how obviously attracted you were to him. Should you be ashamed by how quickly you welcomed his touch? By the way your traitorous body showed no intention of pushing him away? Maybe you should, but he didn’t give you the time to overthink it before he was beside you again.

“Jungkook.” He whispered, only loud enough for you to hear.

“What?” You breathed, face turning toward his sound in the blackness.

“That’s my name. Jungkook.” He repeated, his voice airy and soft. You hadn’t realized how beautiful his voice was until it was the only thing you had to focus on. You could feel that he was bent low, his chest just brushing the tops of your shoulders. You felt dizzy at the sensation of his warm breath ghosting over the shell of your ear as a cool satin ribbon was draped over your eyes.

“In case you were wondering.” He whispered, pulling the edges of the fabric into a soft bow as he dipped to the other side of your shoulders. “But I’ll also answer to ‘guy with the butt that’s better than yours’ if you prefer.” His breathy laugh filled your ears, and you could practically hear him smiling. “Oh god, you heard that?” the back of your hand smothered your mouth, a smile emerging even as you cringed.

“Oh absolutely. Acoustics are insane in this place. It was kind of nice though... I mean, how often do I get to hear such a pretty girl compliment me ?” You could feel the rush of blood practically crashing into your cheeks. You knew the whole world would see you blushing if the lights were on. “I’m out of witty comments for that one.” “Don’t smile. You’ll mess up the blindfold,” he warned, the endearing softness in his voice undermining his words. “I’ll try. Don’t think I can help it though.” A satisfied hum left Jungkook’s lips as he pulled away and went back to the task at hand.

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And just like that, the mystery began with Jungkook as the narrator and weaver of your tale.

Your group had been given a story set in feudal Japan. Clashing samurai, feuding houses, forbidden love- Your friends all got surprisingly into it, losing their normal voices into the adopted lilts and pitches of their newfound characters.

It really was incredible the nuances you caught when you focused on your hearing. Jin’s voice, for example, was far more nasal than you realized. He had a tendency to react dramatically any time someone pressed him for details- clearly signaling how close they were to the truth the more he tried to hide it. Lina’s expressionless monotone was nearly impossible to read on voice alone, but it made her all the more fun to try to figure out. Despite focusing on the story, you couldn’t help but notice that while Jungkook had the entire table to canvas as he narrated, he still stayed suspiciously close to your side the entire time- like he couldn’t help himself. His fingertips would brush the fabric of your blouse when he’d pass. His taut arms would graze the swing of your ponytail as he walked by. He had no mercy on the fragile hummingbird flitting with wild abandon in your chest at each of his actions. In fact, you could hear the distinct note of something that sounded an awful lot like laughter in his voice anytime he gave instructions to your character specifically. Smug son of a gun. Soon, the story unraveled as it was revealed that Jin had, in fact, been the murderer. He was jealous of Lina’s love for samurai Hoseok and had killed him in a drunken rage but tried to frame Bobby for the dishonorable act.

With the crime solved, the lights were turned back on, a fuzzy halo emerging around the edges of your vision as a staff member came behind each guest to remove their blindfold. You were unsurprised when you were met with a gentle waft of clean citrus as Jungkook appeared once again to help you with yours. The warm pads of his fingers grazed your cheeks when he removed the satin ribbon. It was so quick- it was so hard to tell if it had been on purpose- before his touch was gone again far too quickly for your liking. “I must say, you were particularly clever.” He offered softly as he stood behind you. You dropped your neck back to look up at him, eyes wide. “Anyone paying attention would have known that wasn’t Bobby’s blade work.” “Still, most people don’t catch it on their first time through the story.” He tipped his head matter of factly. “Maybe I just had a good guide,” You winked, tucking your chin back to normal when you saw a faint pink color his cheekbones. He cleared his throat before addressing the table. “You’ll find your individual checks have been placed in front of you, along with a complimentary dessert. Thank you for dining with us this evening. It has been our pleasure.”

He bowed at the waist as he gave his farewell, making his last words spoken dangerously close to your ear. Adrenaline spiked in your veins at his proximity for the thousandth time tonight. As he returned to full height, another man approached the table, this one taller, leaner than jungkook, with a smile so innocent and wide it could have belonged to a child.

“Good evening everyone! How was your experience with us tonight?” His voice. It boomed like a clap of thunder. It was oddly deep for someone who looked so young. Everyone at the table chattered with random superlatives about how amazing the night had been as the man's smile glowed brighter.

“I’m so glad to hear it!! You had a real treat tonight- guided by our finest story teller.” Pride swelling in his eyes, the man clapped an embarrassed Jungkook on the shoulder. “Such a shame it might be the last story he tells here.” The baritone lamented. “What am I supposed to do without my partner?” The man used his other hand to clutch at his chest dramatically, face scrunched in distress, as you felt your heart free fall into your shoes.

Last story? “Calm down, Taehyung. You make it sound like I’m dying.” Jungkook rolled his eyes and swatted at the man. “You might as well be!” Taehyung huffed. “He’s leaving us tomorrow to start his new life! Off galavanting in the mountains somewhere with flowers and goats. Leaving all his old, true friends behind.” He wrapped an arm around jungkook’s shoulder, dragging him against his will into a side hug jungkook vehemently tried to escape. “Quiet down, bro. You’re making a scene.” Jungkook balked, face pale at the unwanted attention.

He’s…. leaving? Your stomach took a swan dive. No. But I just met him. How... where was he going? Your eyes fell back to the table as you steadied yourself.

You’d been so excited about where this all might go. It was hard enough to accept that you’d already gotten this attached to him. Let alone invested enough to be this disappointed…..but, you’d felt something so strong around him. The kind of glittering spark you hadn’t felt with another person in a long time, if ever.

Every time his eyes had lingered on you or his body had brushed against yours, a supernova had ignited in your chest. You’d spent the whole night going mad with the electric possibility of him- just to what? Feel like a fool for being infatuated with a stranger? Look like the naive girl you were, pining over a daydream?

This was ridiculous. You shook your head at yourself. This boy didn’t owe you anything. He was a stranger two hours ago, he’d stay a stranger when you left twenty minutes from now. But no matter how you tried to convince yourself, your poor heart still felt sick about it all. He’d just seemed so— you don’t know, special. So magnetic. And You’d thought he’d felt the same pull bringing him to you too.

Because why else would he have flirted with you half the night? He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to lead you on if he knew it was going nowhere. An assumption you realized was a heck of a leap. You didn’t actually know anything about him, but somehow, something about that narrative just didn’t sit right with you. The look he’d had in his eyes each time he smiled at you tonight had seemed too sincere to be a lie. But from the way his loud friend was still talking, he made it sound like Jungkook was moving to the Alps.

So even if his sweet eyes had genuinely meant every smile tonight, was it really all for nothing? You knew the night was ending, and it was a long shot, but you’d really been holding out hope it might go somewhere beyond this. Apparently not. In an instant, he reappeared by your side, having broken free from the grip of his affectionate friend’s grasp. Jungkook dipped beside you once again as you stumbled to rearrange your now troubled features into something resembling disinterest.

“Hey, Sorry about that. But, I um, really do hope you have a great night. So your uh, your check is on the table.” His poise seemed a bit more rattled than before, but you were too glum to give it much notice.

You sent an out of focus glance in the ticket’s direction and nodded. He’d already told everyone that. Most of the table already had their debit cards out for their tickets. You didn’t know why he was bothering to mention it again when all you wanted to know was where he was going and if it was far.

“I um...didn’t get to catch your name earlier,” the smile he offered you was gentle, hopeful, as his wide brown eyes looked down at you. You felt yourself sigh withought meaning to. You’d have found the sheepish look in his eyes hopelessly adorable just a few minutes earlier, but now all it did was make your chest hurt. “Not a detail you need if you’re moving away though right?” You asked, a sadness creeping in your attempted smile. God, you weren’t fooling anyone. This was pathetic. His brows dipped at your response, confused by the shift in your demeanor. “I’m... I mean, i told you mine.” His gentle eyes tried to salvage the situation. The confidence he’d exuded all night was slipping away, a boyish vulnerability taking its place. There was no harm, you supposed. “Fair enough. It’s y/n.”  you conceded. “Y/n.” He repeated, like he was trying to make the shape a new habit for his mouth. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

The smile you gave him back was a limp, pitiful thing, but it was the best you could give. Half an hour ago, you definitely didn’t think him calling you pretty would have made you so sad. Compliments didn’t usually send you into a craving for solitude and halo top ice cream, but this one certainly did.

“Well, y/n, I may not be as far away as you think. Have a good night.” And with that he was gone.

Bummed, you looked over your shoulder as he disappeared into the kitchen. “Shoot. Well, that was a fast track to nowhere,” you sighed to Eileen, slouching in your seat. “I know. Bummer. Seemed like he liked you too.” Eileen commiserated. “Right? So it wasn’t just me? You could tell too?” “Oh, he was totally obvious about it! He  also gave you more ice cream than me. Shameless. Boy has no subtly.” You chuckled at her accusation, but sure enough, you did in fact have one scoop more ice cream in your jadeite bowl than the rest of your friends. This boy already knew the way to your heart.

“Still. Why act interested if you’re disappearing the next day?” You pouted. “Why show interest when he’s just a server you’ve never met before?” She asked pointedly, eyebrow arched as your eyes fell away. “People react when they feel something- and clearly you two were feeling something the entire night. His eyes didn’t leave you for a second....We don’t get to pick the timing of when we’re attracted to people, y/n. Nobody’s working with that kind of control.” Flopping onto her shoulder, you heaved a heavy sigh. “Again... you’re right. I just, I don’t know. There was just—something about him. He felt... special.” “He looked special in that outfit. Those buttons were crying.” She mockingly bit her lip as you swatted your napkin at her. “Eileen! Unhelpful! I’m aware.... I guess you just don’t always get to know where things could have gone.” You shrugged, wilting into her warmth. “I know, babe. Sorry.” She patted your head comfortingly.  You turned to your ice cream to heal the wound, accepting that beautiful Jungkook would just be a passing meeting and a quick deadend to nowhere. After polishing off your dessert, you pulled out your cash to at least leave him the memory of a good tip when your eyes caught on scribbled handwriting in the top corner of your receipt. Hey, I don’t normally do something like this, but there’s a place around the corner that stays open super late. Meet me for crappy coffee + good conversation at 11? -jungkook xxx-xxx-xxxx You choked on nothing as you processed what was going on.

“Eileen! Eileen!!” You grabbed at her sleeve. “What?? What is it?! Calm down.” She pried your clutching hands off her cropped leather jacket, brushing off any damage you’d done.

“He gave me his number!” You nearly shouted.

“What?” She almost spat out her cocktail.

“He gave me his number!!” You waved the receipt wildly in her face. “He invited me to coffee and gave me his number!!!” You squealed, shrieking at an octave usually reserved for wild piglets. “Shut up! No way!!!” “Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!” You rambled ecstatically. “But wait!” your face fell,“ we’re supposed to go out for drinks with everybody after.” “And? Is that a joke??? You see us every day! What are you doing talking to me?? Text him! Go meet your man, honey. I’ll cover for you.” She winked as she swung her purse over her shoulder. “Really?? I love you! I owe you!” You yelled as she made her way to the door. “Um, You really don’t, but I’ll never turn down a favor. Let me know how it goes. See you on Monday.” She waved back at you, flipping the platinum ends of her ebony hair over her shoulder. “Hey! Where’s y/n? Isn’t she coming with us,” Jin seemed to be the only one alarmed by your absence. “Nothing to worry your pretty little head about, dear. I’ll fill you in later.” She grabbed him by his shoulders and nudged him out the door frame. “Ooo, bulking up are we, Kim? Feeling solid these days.”

“Yes actually!” His face glowed. “I have been! But you know, muscle tone is 80% genetics anyway. You cant just make yourself handsome, you know.You have to be born this good looking to start with and work from there.”

She knew there was no quicker, sure fire way to get Jin off topic than to ask him about himself. Once that train had left the station, there was little hope if any of ever turning back.

Eileen really took one for the team there. “Call me” she mouthed back at you as they slipped off into the night. You chuckled to yourself at the scene, finally realizing the turn your own evening was about to take. You plugged his number into your phone and shot him a quick message. [10:35pm] Hey, how did you know I was always down for quality conversation? Moments later, your phone began to buzz. Jungkook [10:36pm] Just went with my gut ;)

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