#none of this is probably coherent but fuck it I just need somewhere to vent for the time being

[starlit-roses-ships]

don’t you love it when you just burst into tears in front of someone and basically have an anxiety attack over something that is not even a big deal in the slightest 🙃🙃🙃

[theycallme-tunathot]

sleep. [chapter 5]

Pairing: Wonho x Reader/ft. Jeon Jungkook, Kim Jisoo, Park Jinyoung, Min Yoongi and a few other idols. Rating: NC-17 or M Synopsis: Dreams keep your succubus form at bay. Your best friend has news for you and it’s stolen all of your focus. Author’s Note: Coming in at a whopping 8.1k words and 18 pages, here it is. We’ve got some movement in one of the plot points and a new character! I hope you guys enjoy this and please don’t hesitate to drop by and tell me how you feel about it! :D Love you guys so much!!

“You owe me dinner.”

His hands were strong, grabbing my hair by the fistfuls. The more entangled my hair got with those thick fingers, the harder he tugged. When he tugged my hair again, this time harder than previous times, it elicited a low growl from me, my lips pressed hungrily against his lips.

And those lips...

Usually a pink Starburst candy color, his lips were now like a Starburst cherry color. Deep red, swollen and absolutely unrelenting in their pursuit of my own. At some point I could've sworn it was too much for him. He'd been breathing so ragged for minutes now, possibly ten—I couldn't keep track of how long we'd been like this, tangled up in each other's lust and kissing like our very lives depended on it—with no end in sight. He stopped being able to make sense for quite some time. At one point, he tried to ask me if we should go to his or my place, but it came out so garbled that all I replied with was, "Somewhere away from Jungkook."

So here we were, in a small dorm room. It was one of the newer ones, the smell of fresh construction dust blowing through the vents. This beautiful man, both strong and weak in every possible way, was sprawled on the futon he collapsed on when we first entered the room. The moment I pounced on him, desperate for some kind of release to the sexual tension, he fell back onto the futon and we'd hardly moved from this spot.  

His legs were far apart, almost comically so. Thick thighs spilled to either side, hard and muscular as he tensed every so often. And when they did? It sent me on some insane high, a powerful wave that my true form was willing to ride until it finally bottomed out and he flexed his thigh yet again. I was straddling him, my own feet firmly planted on either side of his thighs as I squatted uncomfortably over him. But that didn't seem to matter much to either of us as we continued our assault.

Just when it seemed like the beautiful man beneath me was about to fade out, I sank to my knees, my hips aligning with his. The moment I finally made contact with his own, I felt him pull his lips up just enough so I could swallow his delicious gasp. Another appetizer to that monster that laid in wait beneath all of my beautiful trappings.

"God," he breathed out against my lips. "You feel like heaven."

I couldn't help but smirk. If only he knew how infernal my intentions were and if only he knew how fucked he was having crossed my path. Heaven was for angels and good boys and girls who followed the rules, not bad boys and girls who crossed paths with a creature like me.  

But I moaned in response because he felt so big, pressing against my lips as I held my hips steady.

"Please Y/N, move," he moaned out.

And with the go-ahead, my hips lifted and cocked back, my spine perfectly arched to push my chest into his shoulder blades. Recapturing his lips, I pushed my hips down and rolled forward slowly, my core warming up instantaneously with the contact made. The drag felt delicious, but I knew it wouldn't satiate my appetite for long. I'd eaten snacks and starters with this guy for so long, I couldn't deny myself a full meal any longer.  

So, without any hesitation, I pulled my hips back and repeated the process, rocking back and forth as I felt him shuddering beneath me, his strong thighs constricting only to contract as he moaned with the movement.

I kept my eyes open, observing every little detail. His pale skin seemingly glowed as I peppered kisses down his thick neck. His strong hands abandoned my hair and roved down my back. His touch started uncertain, almost as if he was unsure if he should touch me. But when I gave no indication that he was wrong, he proceeded a little less timidly. At first, his large hands stayed there at my midback, his fingers probably finding out that I was sans a bra. When he realized this, he became slightly bolder, letting them drift down the length of my spine until they hit the small of my back. It was the only part of my skin exposed above my hips and he seemed to linger there with feather-light touches of his fingertips.

"More," I moaned out, mildly louder than intended.

Our lips connected once more and his fingers found the zipper to my skirt just there at the back. The bodycon skirt was tight, accentuating the curve of my hips and thighs, something that he'd already commented on tonight. In fact, it was our ice breaker. So maybe that's why so little hesitation went into the action of him unzipping my skirt. For a tiny moment, he seemed more focused on making out with me and not trying to blow his load right there against me, but it was all forgotten as he felt the cool metal, gripping it tight and pulling down.

The moment the garment parted for that four or five inches, his fingers worked their way within the garment, making another discovery: I wasn't wearing panties.

Guys always seemed to respond to positively to no panties. While that always seemed to earn bonus points, my lack of underwear was far more practical than the chance to entice another man into bed tonight. No, it had everything to do with how tight my skirt was and not wanting panty lines to ruin the overall look.  

He moaned at the discovery, his hands barely able to wiggle in between my skin and the fabric but, somehow, he made it work. My breath stilled as we continued kissing, his luscious lips desperate for more of a taste, for something to anchor him after that discovery that only seemed to make him harder. And that's how we stayed for a few minutes. Locked at the lips and his hands encouraging my hips forward, my motions only becoming harder, faster and more deliberate. We were both in ecstasy and that thing inside me was becoming more prominent. I could feel her leaning forward, ready to go in for her meal, but she knew it wasn't quite time.

Then suddenly, he pulled back, lips literally peeling from mine as he tried to level out his breathing. "Fuck, you taste good," he mused, head lolling back as he closed his eyes, almost fully coherent. "Sweet."

"Like candy?" I supplied, grinning back at the sight of him.  

Even though his face was completely out of my view, his neck was on display from this angle. The Adam's apple rose and sank as he swallowed back his want and need. I even watched it flex as he shifted the position of his head so he could stare directly at me.

"No, no, not like candy," he said softly. His eyes stared back at me with an expression I'd seen before. He was trying to find words to express his thoughts. It left me in a prolonged silence, my breath suspended somewhere deep in my lungs as I waited to hear his correction.

"Wonho," I whispered out, desperate for him to say something.  

"It's a richer sweet than candy."

"Honey?"

"Not quite."

"Maple syrup?"

"That's way too sweet."

"Then what?"

"Red velvet."

And suddenly, something within me shattered. I stared, wide-eyed as a feeling began to engulf and squeeze the life out of me. This moment was far too familiar, far too exact for me to brush it off casually. Before my mind could wander off to the very first person to compare me to red velvet, I felt myself stand up, backing away from Wonho's seated form.  

Confused, he cocked his head to the side as he stared back at me. I wished in that moment, I had the words to explain why I looked so spooked. I'm sure this was the feeling humans got when they realized they opened a door they shouldn't have or when they did something they weren't fully prepared to do. It was like I told myself I was ready to have sex with someone who I'd somehow developed a bond with, but I wasn't even aware how deep that bond had become and I certainly wasn't ready to reap another soul.

But as I backed away, the scenery changed and I was standing on some dirt road in the middle of nowhere.  

I was dizzy and confused. How did I end up here? How had I left Wonho's dorm room without even using the front door? And why was I so far away from the city? Our campus was urban, in the middle of a mid-sized city, too far from dirt roads and scarcely lit areas.

The wind was soft though the air completely humid. It was spring and despite the humidity, the cloud coverage was nowhere in sight. One of the few days where all the stars could be visible. An arm was wrapped around my shoulders, my own digging into the man seated next to me. Somehow, my whole body was calm and this spot on some abandoned dirt road in the middle of the countryside seemed like home.

"You don't feel real," came the mid-tenor voice from beside me.

The sound of the voice, the texture, the accent—none of it was like Wonho's. In fact, it was a voice I could pick out of a crowd of thousands. Just then my heart began to slow, painfully pumping at a staggered pace. I felt everything inside me crumbling. Every bit of work I did to harden myself, to recover from this horrific moment in my life, it all imploded with just the sound of his voice.

I couldn’t even bear to look at him. I was the reason for his already fleeting life being cut so short. I was the reason he couldn't go on and live his life as he should've. It was my arrogance, my pride and my selfishness that caused the tragedy I was so sure I deserved to suffer with for the rest of my life. He was a beautiful light that I should've never tainted.

"Don't go quiet on me," he said with a nudge to my ribcage. "I don't mean that in a bad way, I just mean that...things don't go right for me most of the time--"

"Stop."

"And you...somehow feel right."

"Please don't--"

"I'm not saying I love you or anything like that..." he trailed off, pulling me closer to his body.

Planting a soft kiss at the top of my head, I felt my whole world decentering. I felt unstable in the worst ways as this moment replayed. All I knew for certain was that I lived this moment a thousand times before and it's painful sting never truly dulled over time.

"I'm just trying to say you're nothing like I've ever had before," he continued, ignoring my pleas to make him stop. Tears pooled and glossed over my eyes and I refused to look over at him. I knew he was vulnerable and opening up to share something with me he should've never shared before. "Just...don't hurt me, please."

“You owe me dinner.”

A loud thud against the nearby nightstand, I woke up with a start. I was halfway still in my dream and halfway awake. Thankfully I wasn't crying but I was having trouble getting my eyes to fully focus. Blearily gazing over at Jungkook, I groaned before burying my head into the pillow. How long had I been out for?

“Wake up,” he said, nudging my mattress with his foot.

I was starting to become acutely aware of the time and realized I must’ve slept through most of the afternoon. Part of me could already feel the annoying sensation of nagging about how I should’ve been studying for my Psyche quiz tomorrow. But that would have to take a back burner as I would have to study my biology work from last week. I was somewhat agitated by myself for letting my nap last this long.

Groaning again, I moved my comforter just enough to see Jungkook grinning down at me from above. He was clearly proud of himself.

“Why are you looking like that?”

“Aren’t I the best fucking friend you’ll ever have?”

I eyed him, no verbal response given. He stared at me for what felt like a minute before he gave a restless sigh and reached over my head. The heavy packet. He then dropped it on my face, repeating his previous claim about being the best fucking friend I’ll ever have.

With a small whimper, I rubbed at my forehead before sitting up and getting a good look at the packet.

The calculus exam review.

How was Jungkook the one giving me this and not Lisa? I distinctly remember the text I saw just before I fell asleep saying she would drop it off to me at the apartment and she would text as soon as she was on her way. I looked at my phone, pretending to look at the time but there weren’t any notifications.

I stared back at him.

“How do you have this?” I asked quietly, my voice still groggy.

“The better question is why you don’t have it,” he said, eyes practically glowing with enthusiasm as he took a seat on my bed. “I mean, it’s expected of me to skip a class, but you? Did you die? Did you fall off a cliff? Wait, no! Did you eat?”

The quick succession of questions only made my clouded mind more confused. So, the only way I could respond was stare back at him, eyebrows knitted together as I tried to process what he was saying. This didn’t change anything for my obviously curious friend.

“Don’t act so innocent, you ate, and right after I fed you too,” he grinned as he nudged my arm. “You’re turning into a real fiend these days.”

“I didn’t eat.”

“No?” Jungkook obviously didn’t believe me. “Then why are your eyes so bright? Your complexion is glowing.”

There was no way I fed in the last few hours, so I wasn’t sure how to explain any of that. Instead of directly answering that question, I lifted the thick exam review and watched as Jungkook’s eyes drifted to it.

“How do you have this?”

He shrugged, “Easy. Someone dropped it off for you.”

“Who?”

For some reason I had a weird feeling about this situation and it probably had everything to do with the events earlier today. I hadn't done anything on my to-do list and I was feeling it.

“Lisa.”

“Lisa dropped this off for me?”

“Are you two not friends anymore or…? How is that so strange?”

“Who said it was strange?”

“You’re looking at me like I told you the sky was purple.”

“Lisa dropped it off?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why do I owe you?”

Jungkook gave a derisive snort and rolled his eyes. He didn’t seem all that happy and I wondered why his demeanor changed.  

“I had to actually talk to Lisa for a total of five minutes so, you owe me dinner.”

I laughed, my drowsy voice getting stronger the longer I sat on the bed with Jungkook talking.

“Not good enough. Knowing you, you probably said something completely lewd and she verbally castrated you, which you would’ve fully deserved.”

He rolled his eyes again and shook his head. “You’re supposed to be my best friend, not hers.”

“Yeah, but I have to side with her on this. Besides, I know you’re lying.”

Jungkook looked taken aback for a few seconds, tilting his head to the side. “Lying about what?”

“Lisa hasn’t texted me which means she might still be in her modern dance lecture, which means,” I drew out with a lazy smirk, “you’re a dirty, rotten liar and I caught you.”

“I still don’t see how 1+1 equals 2.”

“She was supposed to text me when she was dropping by to give me the exam review. Yet there’s no text on my phone.”

Just as I mentioned it, my phone lit up with a text notification, conveniently from Lisa.

Hey did u get the eXaM rEvIeW i LeFt 4 u?

Sighing deeply, my eyes slowly roved over to my best friend. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

He pointed a finger at me defensively, “Are you accusing me of something, because I’m very innocent in all of this.”

“The words very innocent don’t exist when you’re in the context.”

“I’m not calling you a bitch but that was a very bitchy thing for you to say.”

I slapped the side of his head, “I’m definitely accusing you of using your powers against me. Lisa doesn’t even text like that!”

This guy had some gall. I was a succubus. Did he honestly think I wouldn't notice him using a power we both shared by making the other see something that obviously didn't exist? I could strangle Jungkook at times like these.

“Are you sure she isn’t drunk or aging backwards in maturity?”

“Even if that were possible, she’d be more mature than you,” I shot back, my mind now really wanting to know how Jungkook had our calculus review if he didn’t even bother to show up for the lecture today. “I’ll ask again: How’d you get this?”

He shifted his eyes away from me. “I already told you Lisa gave it to me.”

“Why would she give it to you if it’s for me though?”

“Because I promised her no new snaps for a whole week if she didn’t step over the threshold. So, you owe me dinner at the very least.”

“That still makes no sense.”

“It’s simple you dummy. Snapchat is my life—“

“Did you go to class today?”

I interrupted him with a thought that didn’t make sense in my head but it wasn’t any crazier than what Jungkook was saying. I knew for a fact Lisa didn’t come to this apartment while I was asleep because Lisa has wall-to-wall classes from noon until mid-evening. Then she went to eat dinner just before her modern dance lecture which she was currently in. The soonest she would’ve been able to drop by the apartment was sometime after 6–right about now. But even then, Lisa knew I had my biology study group and would've texted me to ask what time I would be back in my apartment before stopping over to avoid running into Jungkook.

The incredulous look Jungkook gave me when I accused him of actually going to class when he’d established he wasn’t going was expected. It seemed somewhat rehearsed in this current context but he seemed overly sensitive about most things right now.

With an overindulgent sigh, I leaned back against the headboard of my bed. “You’re such a sloppy liar.”

“No, you’re just being way more delusional than usual,” he argued. “Why would I have gone to class today? I was here at the apartment until a little after 2.”

“I know Lisa didn’t drop it off, so this has to be your copy or a copy of your copy.”

“I didn’t go to class.”

I hummed in response, basking in the feeling of having the upper hand over Jungkook. This wasn’t an often occurrence but when it happened, it was spectacular. And I could tell I had the upper hand just by the look on my best friend’s face. The way his big eyes widened and stared ahead at me, lips thinner than normal as he was no doubt chewing the inside of his cheek with anxiousness.

“I never said you did, just asking.”

“But that’s what you were getting at isn’t it?”

I shrugged lazily, “That’s highly presumptuous on your part.”

“I didn’t go to class!”

The hummed response seemed to only annoy Jungkook further and I was more than satisfied with that. As I looked through the packet I heard him cough and shift on the bed, his hand resting over my exposed ankle.

Fingertips lightly tapping over the bone that stuck out naturally, I relaxed as I read over how important limits would be on the upcoming exam. Jungkook's fingers easily moved over my ankle to my lower calf, his movements slow but steady. He was obviously worked up about something, but I would have to leave soon.

“So,” Jungkook began, voice seemingly different from the demeanor he had just moments prior. “A little bird told me you and Wonho talked earlier today. Is that why you missed lecture?”

My eyes shot up to meet my best friend’s hazel hues. I thought about lying, challenging him on his source, but the expression that contorted his features into one of anticipatory happiness made that idea pointless. It seemed his source was highly reliable.

Hesitantly, I looked away long enough to look at my phone and see Jungkook was no longer trying to pull off a fake text from Lisa. “I did. And?"

"And? How'd it go?" He asked, leaning forward slightly, his fingers drifting higher over my calf and stroking along my shin. I was acutely aware of his finger's movements but playing it off. It made me a little curious as to why he was in such a mood, but I refused to dive into that, not when I had some studying to do and a study group to attend in less than an hour.

"What do you mean?"

"He told me he really needed to tell you something, something he wasn't able to say the last time you two were interrupted. Did he get to tell you?"

"Yeah," I lied with ease, not looking up from the review.

"I bet you feel stupid for letting a virgin work you up like that."

"Yeah," I mindlessly answered, too involved with the review packet to really listen. But just as I reached the last page and Jungkook gloated about how funny it was to watch me drown in a pool of my own drool the second I met Wonho, I realized what he'd said. He said virgin. But I was immediately confused by the statement and needed clarification. Who was a virgin?

"Jungkook?"

He hummed back at me.

"What did you just say?"

"I wish Michaela from my anatomy and physiology class was as orgasmic as that burrito I just had?"

Raising an eyebrow at him, I wondered how the fuck he went from talking about me and Wonho speaking today to one of his latest conquests that was turning to be a complete waste of time. It was a mystery to me considering how inattentive I was earlier.

"No, not that. What did you say earlier?"

"What? That Wonho and I went for a run last night?"

"No."

"Y/N, I've said a lot. What the fuck are you talking about?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Jungkook rolled his eyes as he shook his head. "The disrespect. As if you even get the right to disrespect me like that—you're the one who's lusting after a virgin."

"There you go saying that again! Who's a virgin?"

My best friend passed off an exasperated sigh as he lifted his hands up, fingers finally leaving my knee. "Where the fuck have you been the last four minutes?"

"Ignoring you."

"So, you lied when you said he got to tell you everything?"

I'm guessing the shrug was a good enough response because he shook his head and nudged my foot with his own knee.

"Wonho, the guy you treat as a sex god, is a virgin."

My mind immediately took me back to that massage room. The way his deft fingers masterfully worked me, the way he drew out every moan from my body with the simplest maneuvers. There was a subtle experience implied with his movement. I wasn't the first girl he'd buried his digits in and I wouldn't be the last—not with a face and a smile like that, not with dark brown eyes that sparkled perfectly in dim lighting.

We'd met at least three times now and, not once in our exchange did he seem inexperienced. The way he phrased certain things or shaped his responses to things I said gave me the impression he was very aware of the innuendos. In fact, I was positive he meant for those implications to be made.

“And something tells me you’d allow me to do a lot of things.”

There was something unimaginably unsettling with this discovery. So much so, that my first step to acceptance was fully underway.

“You’re such a liar,” I said, voice low and hesitant.

That only made Jungkook cackle. “When have you known me to joke about something this serious?”

While virginity had a lot of religious resonance with a lot of Christians, it was a highly rare quality in our world. As a succubus and incubus, virgins were hard to acquaint ourselves with but they held a lot of value. Think of it as delicacy. Virgin souls were like caviar—uncommon to find among the souls we typically picked from, but it was said to hold some of the richest and most-filling qualities. And just like caviar, the reviews were mixed. Some didn’t believe it was worth the trouble, some completely indifferent to the experience as a whole. And then there were those that swore by the experience.

Not to mention the reputation one gains from acquiring a soul like that.

While I thought about this, Jungkook’s grin only stretched further across his face in the most aggravating way.

“I can see it, you’re interested in knowing more aren’t you?”

“Shut up,” I replied distractedly. I shook my head. Words were failing me on a spectacular level. I didn’t know how to rework this entire situation so I wasn’t half as clueless as I looked right now, but Jungkook seemed to throw this brick out of left field. I had no way of even guessing Wonho would be or even could be a virgin.  

Dark brown eyes bore into me as I looked toward the small window in my room. Overcast skies made me want to stay in the warmth of my own bed. Quietly, I laid my head rest against the headboard, sighing at the sensation of Jungkook's fingers returning to my knee gliding in a borderline sexual way, but I knew he was trying to be comforting.

"You must've run off before he got the chance to say it," he snarked.

"Whatever."

“You still owe me dinner. Don’t forget,” he replied, playfully pinching the skin on the inside of my thigh. It only brought out feelings from the dream I just left. He gave an obnoxious snort before standing. “You’ve got that council of nerds thing in half an hour.”

Looking at the time I groaned, shoving my roommate away as I quickly rose to my feet. My biology study group was halfway across campus today since our usual study area was already booked. Our time was also far later than usual. So what normally took me a solid five minutes to get to by foot would take me somewhere around eleven minutes. My human body was starving after not having eaten for several hours and everything seemed topsy-turvy with the new information I just learned about Wonho.

How was I supposed to focus during my biology study group?

Forty minutes later I was freshly showered, stuffing my face with a sandwich I grabbed from the café nearby, apologizing profusely for being late.

No one seemed all that peeved or annoyed by my tardiness. Well, most didn't.

"Did you not receive the text for the location change? I sent it yesterday," Jinyoung said, his voice stiff and formal.

"I did."

"Is your phone losing time?"

My eyebrow quirked up in confusion. "No?"

"We're already ten minutes into reviewing last week's lab. We're not going back for you."

Jisoo popped Jinyoung on the arm. "Stop being so rude. It's not like Y/N has been late every time we meet."

I gave her a grateful smile as I hurriedly grabbed my notebook and lab manual out of my bag, plopping a seat in between Chanyeol and Namjoon.

"You didn't miss much considering Jinyoung spent five minutes complaining about the tedious nature of having our lab manuals spiraled instead of bound or loose-leaf," Chanyeol assured, his charming smile brightening his face and seemingly the surrounding area.

My breathy laugh said thank you more than I verbally could at the moment.  

Settling into my chair, highlighters, colored pens and page flags in hand, we began our study session. Typically, going over last week's lab was boring, but it kept my attention. I could easily discuss what results I got for the experiment and even argue over verbiage to use while writing up my lab report. But today was strange. No matter how hard I tried to focus on the page in front of me and actively participate in the conversation around me, my mind just wouldn't allow it.  

Instead, my mind drifted off to random moments in conversation with Wonho. It seemed my mind was looking to overanalyze every little thing that happened between us. Thankfully, we didn't have many conversations and each one was relatively short-lived thanks to my fight or flight reflexes kicking in at the very last second. But still, it was enough to keep me in and out of the current conversation I should've definitely been involved in.

"Yo, ground control to Y/N!"

Fingers were snapping right by my ear, making me shake back into the current moment. Wide-eyed, I looked around as the whole group had their eyes on me. Jinyoung huffed out an aggravated sigh. Chanyeol seemed amused while Jisoo checked her phone. Namjoon seemed to be the one staring at me in confusion, his hand still lifted and idling beside my head.

"What?"

"We were asking your opinion on the oxidizing section of the experiment," Jinyoung supplied exasperatedly.

"Oh," I replied lamely, looking down and noticing I was on the wrong page. Flipping through a few pages, I wondered how long I'd been out of it for me to be four pages behind the group. "I, uh—I think—you said oxidizing, right?"

Another agitated sigh fell from Jinyoung, followed by Jisoo jabbing her elbow into his side. Chanyeol hid another laugh behind his notebook and I closed my eyes, embarrassed beyond belief.

Namjoon clapped his hands and stood up. "I think this is a good stopping place for a break. I'm heading to the student center for a drink and taking drink orders."

Jinyoung thankfully yelled about needing a coffee with triple shots of espresso. Chanyeol quietly gave out a tea order and Jisoo replied she was fine with her water. I told him I wasn't sure.

"Do you want to come with me then? Help me carry the drinks? Maybe you'll see something you want."

Immediately I stood. This was a perfect escape and maybe this would offer me some time to breathe and clear my mind. "Yes, let's do that."

It was already dark on campus by the time Namjoon and I walked to the campus student center. The pace was casual despite how cool the night air was around us. Campus at night should've been a scary sight considering how few people dotted the usually bustling grounds, the dark corners and patches of walkways and how everything just felt more unknown despite traveling these paths every day. But I found peace in the stillness of my surroundings. It probably helped that I was with a tall guy like Namjoon, who, while he lost a fight to his tiny middle school sister in public, at least looked like he could take on just about anybody. Tall and a little stronger than the image his thin frame would have one believe.  

"Are you okay?"

I blinked a couple of times as I looked up at him, my eyes catching his dark brown ones. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged, "I don't know, you just seem distracted tonight."

Because I am.

"Oh, I'm just tired," I trailed off, wondering if that seemed like a good cover-up. Probably not.

"No, it's not exhaustion, I've seen you exhausted, this is something else."

There was no use in praying for Namjoon to let it go. It's not like I had anyone to pray to and even then, Namjoon liked puzzles. Right now I was posing a challenge because I was acting weird and not being forthcoming with the reason why after he plainly asked for one. While he was the next quietest member of the study group just in front of me, it wasn't for lack of observation. He was quiet because he was an observer. Wickedly perceptive, this lanky guy always stored every little thing he saw into some memory bank and knew when to use it or when to keep it handy for a later time. That always surprised and scared me about him.  

Now, it was just a nuisance.

I shrugged. "I don’t think I get what you mean.”

"At the beginning of the semester you were obviously exhausted, dark circles under your eyes, the whole lot. But you were really involved even then," he answered, using his hands for emphasis. "But this isn't exhaustion. You're clearly distracted by something."

"Clearly?" I asked, my voice colored with skepticism.

"Clearly. You didn't even know what page we were on."

"I got lost, I thought we were on something else."

"That doesn't even include the fact that I saw you staring at the carpet for at least a good three minutes before you went to stare at a blank filler page in the lab manual for at least ten minutes."

So, it seemed Namjoon had all of his facts. He had everything he needed to call me out for lying. My mind seemed to begin shutting down, offering no ideas for how to combat this intrusion into my life. But then it started to dawn on me: The only other person who knew about any of this was my overly smug best friend and I wasn't going to discuss this with him again any time soon. He got too much satisfaction laughing at how I was repeatedly at the mercy of someone inexperienced with sex. And if I didn't speak about it to someone soon, I might really have a mental breakdown.

And Namjoon was a trustworthy guy. He didn't superfluously talk about much of anything, let alone others. He hardly talked about himself. He could possibly be a good ally in this situation. Possibly. I assumed it mainly due to the fact that even if this conversation would veer into the territory of awkward or downright humiliating, it would stick between us.

He also struck me as a non-judgmental guy.  

At least that's what my gut told me on our first meeting and Namjoon hadn't done anything to change that opinion just yet.

"Are you okay?"

Pressing my lips into a thin line, I considered just how nerve racking all of this was. I was about to divulge my own personal thoughts to a guy who knew so little about me. It was a break with tradition slightly, considering this was really why I had Jungkook around, but it seemed my best friend set me up for a situation like this. After all, I would've never known Wonho if it wasn't for Jungkook. I also would've never had that first meeting with Wonho without Jungkook dragging me to the gym.

Cocking my head to the side, my eyebrows furrowed as I looked straight ahead. "It's...complicated?"

"Are you not sure about the complexity of your situation or...?"

I shouldn’t have replied with a question. Namjoon wanted clarity and I was stuck here still unsure of how to explain that I was confused and frustrated with myself.

"No?"

"How about I rephrase this," he said, turning his head to look at me. "Do you need to talk to anyone? I mean, it doesn't have to be me. If you're more comfortable explaining or talking it over with a girl, I'm sure Jisoo would be willing to help you out. But I am here if you need to talk."

I nodded mutely, beginning to understand that over the month or so of the semester, somehow, my biology study group had become closer than I expected. We were in ways, non-conventional friends. We didn't necessarily hang out on the weekends, go to parties together, sleep over at each other's apartments, houses or dorm rooms. But the two hours we spent together three times a week? It seemed we all had grown fond of each other's company and began to care.

A deep breath was heaved as I looked up at Namjoon. It was now or never really. If I wasn't going to share the nagging and frustrating sensation that seemed to cloud my mind, I would've wasted an opportunity. I just hoped I wouldn't make this anymore awkward than it had to be.

"Are you a virgin?"

Fucking hell.

Dark brown eyes went wide as they stared back at me. Namjoon's pace had slowed and I knew I'd made a mistake leading with that question. It's not like we were the kind of friends that were close enough to know that kind of sensitive information from each other. We were just in the same study group. That's all.

Instead of slowing to match Namjoon's pace, I kept the original one, determined to continue toward the student center which was in sight. A mere 400 feet in front of me. I didn't dare look at my lanky study group member for fear he was actually regretting ever asking me what was wrong.

It didn't take long for him to adjust though. As I began ascending the stairs, Namjoon's heavy feet pounded against the pavement, crisp sounds echoing around the quiet area in an attempt to catch up with me. With his long legs and less than graceful trip when the toe of his shoe caught the lip of a stair, he was within arm's reach in no time. As his hand gripped my forearm, I glanced over to him nervously.

"Why do you need to know if I'm a virgin?"

It was obvious from his tone he was slightly concerned for my sanity. I'm almost positive he wasn't considering this as a profession of love or a crush, which was greatly appreciated. It just looked like he wasn't sure where the question came from. And that was the card I would play too.

My mouth did a perfect guppy impression. Turning oval-shaped as I tried to pretend it wasn't exactly me who said it, before flattening out into a line as I considered being honest and truthful. Because at the end of the day, that’s why I decided to answer Namjoon in the first place. Because I needed perspective on my Wonho situation without having some irritating incubus gloating in my face.

"Well, there's a situation and I'm not sure what to do about it," I mumbled out quietly.

I was almost certain I would have to repeat myself. There was no way Namjoon heard me. But when he gave me a knowing nod, it seemed he was acutely aware of what I just mumbled out. It was at that moment I wished I hadn't confessed this at night on a nearly dead campus. It should've been during the day, in the middle of a passing period.

"A situation?"

"Yes."

"What kind of situation?"

My whole body turned as I leaned against the metal railing. It felt cool even through the material of my jacket. As I visibly shivered, I mulled over another way to respond. "A confusing one?"

Namjoon should've been annoyed with me, but somehow, he looked so good-natured as he laughed at my response. It's not like he had any obligation to make me feel better about my "situation" nor did he have any responsibility to listen to me skirt around my problem, but here he stood. He didn't even look annoyed that I was failing to give him coherent responses.

"Well, let's start with something simple then. Do you like this other person?"

I blinked a couple of times. "I feel like it's a yes."

"Okay. And what level of 'like' are you on?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is this a romantic like, an amiable like?" As he looked at my expression, he seemed to only nod and smile. "Or are you not sure what kind of like it is?"

"It's definitely not amiable," I mumbled out.

"But not romantic either."

"I don't think we can be on that level at this point."

"But you're definitely attracted to them."

I hummed back in response.

"So, now that's established we can move onto the next section," he said, nodding as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Why were we stood out here in the darkness, just outside the steps leading to the very building we were trying to enter, I couldn't say. But I wasn't willing to question it. Namjoon was actually being a friend and trying to help me so he could further help me. "Now, does this person know you're attracted?"

I almost snorted. Of course that fucker does.

"I think so."

"And do you know if this person is attracted to you as well?"

"That's the thing," I blurted out, unable to let my quiet persona take over. "He told me this afternoon."

"So, you're attracted to him and he's attracted to you," Namjoon repeated.

"But, like, who does that?" I blurted, not even paying attention to my friend. Turning my body slightly to face the building not even fifty feet in front of us, I sighed deeply, frustration building in my marrow.

"Someone who wants you to know up front," he replied. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"I know."

"Now that we've got this all established, let's move on to the harder part. What's so complicated about your situation?"  

At that, I could feel my quiet persona coming back. I was hesitating. Even though, from this conversation alone, I could surmise Namjoon would be the least judgmental person about me revealing key facts about my situation, I've spent years lying and hiding things. By years, I mean a lot of years. It was part of what kept me and Jungkook alive. Revealing key facts about even the tiniest of things seemed like it could turn into a dangerous situation too fast.

It also didn't help that my situation was slightly embarrassing.

But before I could muster up the courage to admit out loud that I was crushing and sexually frustrated by a guy who'd never even had sex, Namjoon's face registered some kind of realization. I stared wide-eyed, wondering what revelation he just had. Thankfully, he didn't keep me in suspense long.

"I get it," he said, looking down at his shoes before nodding toward the glass doors. It seemed he wanted to keep walking. "You're unexperienced with this aren't you?"

The way he said unexperienced let me know he was loading a lot of undertones to that meaning. Unexperienced meant virgin, the girl who might've never even been touched below the neck, let alone heavily groped or manhandled or manhandled another. And "this" was a heavily packed word. It was only after my initial thought that I realized "this" could mean so many things: relationships, sexual attraction, sex, a guy being forward about his feelings, feelings in general.

Following him up the remainder of the stairs and into the warmth of the student center, I shrugged despite Namjoon's back facing me. Part of me wanted to be offended for him expecting that I was the virgin in this scenario, but it only made sense to let him think this way. The less experience he thought I had the less likely he would assume or think I was capable of anything but being quiet and slightly awkward.

As we passed the main cafeteria and the food court, I decided to finally voice my response.

But yet again, Namjoon beat me to the punch.

"You know, there's nothing wrong with inexperience," he reassured, looking at me with a genuine smile, dimples deepening as he delivered a nice encouraging line. "Honestly, people make it seem like it's alien to be inexperienced—like we're all supposed to be born with this innate ability to have sex or be really good at dating or be the best love interest in the world, but the fact of the matter is simple: We're all inexperienced in a way in all of these areas."

I almost wanted to shout bullshit at him, but I didn't, because he was actually speaking the truth. If I could admit anything as a succubus, it would be how indiscriminate inexperience was. We were all inexperienced with something. My previous university taught me that. But that knowledge didn't make me feel any better. The man who was currently invading my waking and now sleeping thoughts was a guy inexperienced in sex. That was strange for a succubus like myself.

Namjoon must've sensed my embarrassment because he immediately took me into a one-armed hug, his hand squeezing my shoulder as we rounded the corner. The fresh scent of ground coffee beans filled my nostrils and I sighed as I looked up at my lanky friend.

"Seriously, you've got nothing to worry about," he said. "If that guy likes you, he'll be decent enough to be patient and walk you through all of it but only when you’re ready for it.”

“You sound like you know a lot about this.”

All he did was beam as he looked down at his feet and nodded. “Sex with someone you care about is definitely worth the wait,” he mused, his genuine happiness making him practically glow.

Taking his arm back, I watched in curiosity as Namjoon strolled into the café, me a couple strides behind him. I would have to have him explain how he could beam like that about a topic like this. But not right now, it didn't seem the right time to.

As we sauntered up to the counter, Namjoon didn't immediately start the long list of drink orders he had. Instead, he took a look at the cake pops in the confections case, seemingly mulling over the option to add them onto his bill. I watched silently for a few moments before flitting my glance to the barista patiently waiting behind the counter.

Well, I say patiently, but his expression was far less friendly and kind than the word patiently would have one assume. He looked bored. One really couldn't blame him. The café looked completely dead tonight considering midterms were right around the corner. We were the only people visible in the entire dining room and Namjoon was too bothered with cake pops to engage in conversation or to rattle off his order.

But even if he were kept busy, this guy looked hardly interested in much of anything. I doubted any amount of fun to be had at work would hardly ensure this guy's attitude would change.  

It seemed he noticed my staring because he suddenly, with all the irritation in the world bundled up in a thin frail body, turned his gaze toward me. His gaze was dark, hard. His face pixie-shaped. Peroxide blonde hair fell in his eyes and his lips resembled a single thin line. Nothing about this guy looked fun, or nice or warm and inviting. In fact, he looked cold and rigid and definitely stand-offish.

Staring at him for just a moment longer, our eyes locking, my succubus form ebbed in discomfort. Somewhere deep within me, it felt like he was familiar, like we'd met before, but that was impossible. Jungkook and I moved a great distance to be sure we couldn't be traced back to our last university. So, no matter how freaked out my succubus form became, there was no way we'd met before.

"Hey, should we get vanilla, strawberry or chocolate cake pops?"

"All three."

"Good call," Namjoon said before turning to the barista. But suddenly a surprised sound came from my taller friend and I looked up to him as he beamed back at the barista.  

"What's going on?" I quietly asked.

"Oh, Yoongi! You work here?"

At the loud use of his name, the barista gave a tentative glare in my direction, almost like he was waiting for me to say something before addressing Namjoon, eyes still lazily focused on me.

"Long time no see."

[karkatvantasistrans]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Uhhh BIG trigger warning on this one for depictions of mental illness mainly really shitty hopeless internal monologue stuff. And slightly less big ones for alcohol, alcoholism, casual ableist language, internalized misogyny. I mean it’s a fic about alcoholism so tread lightly I guess

Be Rose, 14 Hours ago

You seek out the murderclown.

This might be, had you ever grazed a text about addiction, something that might be called a bottom. Maybe not rock bottom, but enough of a sacrifice to your general set of sensibilities and morals that a particularly sensitive person could begin to see a problem with their lifestyle. Enough of a shock to be a wakeup call for someone still invested in their own life. You might be aware of the concept if, freshly thrust into the world of double-digit ages, you watched your mother's ability to care for you decline and began searching for ways to understand her. To care for her, potentially, if you had to see her decline beneath her own standards. If the "functioning" ever dropped off from before the rest of her descriptors. If you were wide-eyed, optimisitic and trusting enough to believe alcoholic adult men you'd never met to understand your mother better than you could.

But, of course, none of that could be the case. You know yourself as someone who would never allow herself to be that vulnerable, so that couldn't have happened.

So you seek out the murderclown.

Walking here, you'd followed trails of vents in overwhelmingly complicated articulations as they escaped the confines of the rooms' walls, and after a certain point most of the landscape around you became twisted vent shafts, curling around each other in the space between metal wall fragments. The connecting metal box greeting all these vents shifts down until it becomes a room, and this room spans out to meet you in the form of a hallway, shadows cast in such a way as to obscure the actual length of the hall with a blanket of black air.

He shifts out of the darkness very deliberately, and you can appreciate the drama he invites. Green light bounces off one eye right before his gray skin starts painting itself into the air. He looks, soft. Not in a necessarily pleasant way, but his face lacks some of the more pronounced knotting and ridges of the trolls’ usual textured skin. Maybe it’s just the light, or the liquor, but he looks like he’s painted himself into the scene in front of you. There’s something inherently liminal about him. You admit it's somewhat distressing how little it feels like he’s actually occupying any space around you, and something is skittering around in your brain stem, scrambling frantically at the juncture of your neck. You can’t help but picture a gerbil trying to claw its way out, but you’re the cage, and you’re the table on which the cage is sat, and you’re the house in which the table is placed. So you’re not going anywhere.

“Gamzee,” You offer. He tilts his head.

A voice in the back of your head tells you this is a bit far to take your girlhood fascination with the macabre. You call it sexist. Men get to have real amitions and goals with their interests: why not you?

“Rose,” he hits back, and it’s the sureness that bugs you.

You uncaptalogue the bottle of wine.

He doesn’t flinch.

You’re already walking past him by the time he’s caught it in his hands.

“Come on.”

Be Rose, 11 Hours ago

You are leaning against the cold steel wall, your hair in a bunch above your head. It’s hooked on a screwhead, you think, or maybe it isn’t. You’ll figure out one way or the other inevitably. Gamzee is grinning, slick eyes narrowing more and more the more you talk. You are chatting, but you can’t hear yourself, about wine and the distilling process and the alchemy involved, and he is nodding every so slightly as light dances over his split pupils. They’re goatlike, you think, and watching orbs of light bounce off of them as they remain subbornly out of focus, they look unreal. You wonder if he’s taking information in with them or if they’re just there for display: two haunting, bewitching stones in his head as he watches you through his incizors. He feels like a ghoul; like a very ancient consort. You’re getting on amicably and he tells you about his religion; completely absurd but woven together with such a rich lore you’re almost convinced. You offer and interpretation and you swear the lights on his eyes all sync together. He’s enthralled, leaning over one knee and left hand’s claws flying through the air, gesticulating in time with every relevation he delivers. Excited, his wild hair and his horns meet in a soft circle, bouncing around his head as he expounds on the importance of different saints and jugglers, or saint-jugglers, you can’t actually keep straight what he’s talking about, and you find yourself home again. You’re comfortable; you’re invested in the kind of person you need him to be for you to survive. You, leaning against a third wall, watching the two of you conversing and understanding: you need this to survive. The both of you are strung together on a rope of liqour and the feelings of isolation have dug deep, deep into both your pores and if you had the chance to have this with the people who try to care about you you’re not sure if you even would. Your life and your girlfriend and your friends have too many artificial moments, stapled together and hanging on the reliance that Things Will Get Better and Feel Normal and you don’t know how to explain to anyone that it feels better to die with a stranger than to love them. Something churns deep, deep inside you as your girlfriend burns into your mind, her shadow on the walls of your skull as the ghost of her has to feel what you feel and your waking mind rushes back, angrily, and it’s fighting with you to feel w

you wake up in bed.

You are cold. Your clothes feel damp. You realize, with frustration, that it's because you were in the middle of pouring yourself a drink. You put down the cup, and the bottle, and lie down. You stare at the ceiling.

You feel like the ceiling stares into you more than you're able to stare into it. It's gray, it's unwelcoming, it's hostile. If it had the chance to, it would probably kill you.

Maybe it's trying.

You think about your girlfriend and you're, sad. You're so, fucking sad and you can't even be eloquent about it or put into words why you feel that way. You can't explain to yourself what the words and the feelings you have inside yourself are even supposed to mean. You can't even arrange them into something coherent. You heave.

You're holding your hands on your face and crying. Like you're a fucking teenage girl, like an idiot. You picture her and you think about yourself and you just fucking cry. You guess, you feel like you're failing her. So, there's a way to explain it. To organize the emotions, to give them a label. But it doesn't fucking help. It's not productive. It doesn't tell you anything new, it doesn't inspire meaning, it doesn't move you from point a to point b, it just stays the same. Moves you backwards into yourself. 

You keep coming back here, because this is you. You're tired of it. And when you wake up you're going to have to be her again and you fucking hate her. She thinks anything can ever be better and that she can solve any of these problems like what’s fundamentally wrong with you isn’t etched into the core of your being and that if you just keep trying you would make some real progress when you know you keep coming back here for a reason and it’s n

You wake up in bed.

Which is fine; that's always a good place to wake up, and it's certainly a reasonable activit

Be Rose, 21 minutes ago.

You call Kanaya.

You realize as she’s picking up: it’s conspicuous, it’s insincere, it’s overly formal and it invites questions: why call when you can just pester her like usual? Your throat clicks as she inhales on the other end and you feel her question you moments into the future. She’s going to ask what’s happening. What’s different.

But her voice pours out the other end, soprano with surprise, delighted and chatty and just the gentle rhythm of her speech click click clicking in your left ear. You’re pacified in the most mundane sense, soothed and calmed and curling yourself around your phone and onto the wall as she rambles out the speaker into the air. Lingering guilt and questions and blank memories swim in your mind but you’re too deep under the surface to bother. And somewhere beyond the shore of the lake in your mind you have an image of you shoving your own head into the water, anxieties and critiques bubbling up as your last breaths as emotion takes over and your life escaping your lips is the last disturbance in the still waters.

Be Rose Lalonde.

You think you might stop drinking for a while.

You tell Kanaya you’re coming over.

You are still Rose Lalonde.

You are in your girlfriend’s room.

You paint her nails.