#p.s. where do all the basses go

[dreamaze]

every bg needs a baritone & i don’t mean a token baritone who is a rapper who occasionally sings 3 notes in a song & i don’t mean a token baritone who gets 2 inconsequential phrases which may or may not be identical to everything the tenors sing i mean a BARITONE this isn’t just about range it’s also about timbral diversity

[yunopouts]

scream - l. jeno

-> lee jeno x fem reader

-> frat! au, pure smut (jeno lee is one nasty mother fucker in this one y'all)

-> CW: dom! jeno, rough sex(??), choking, edging, a small... TINY (VERY TINY) bit of ass play, protected sex, handjob, overuse of the word fuck, overstim, head god jeno, fingering, spitting, squirting, slight praise, lots of crying (reader), dumbification, marking/biting, scratching, blood, nipple play, gagging, bdj (big dick jeno LMFAOO)

-> a/n: this is my apology for going on such a long break T-T, i'm telling you i didn't even realise it went on for that long. i was checking in every now and then but i feel so bad T-T anyways! I'm back :P this one doesn't have THAT much dialogue, so i hope you guys enjoy the gory details 😁 also i think this is the filthiest, most smutty, smut i've ever fucking written, and i've written a lot... trust me on this.

-> upcoming: dilf! jaehyun next week and maybe another halloween special idk. oh btw, everything has some sort of halloween aspect to it :)) psst! requests are open!!

-> word count: 4.2k!

-> also p.s: idk how to explain the way he's acting in this fic... he's like very sweet and cute when he's kissing, but he's being a bitch when he's fucking and being rough... idk, i hope you understand what I mean. but also, as rough as he maybe, he's very touchy-feely and kissy :D ANYWHO! I present to you, six pages of pure filth!

safe! master list

mature! masterlist

“When you said we’re going to a party, I didn’t know it was a frat party.” Minjeong said as the three of you walked through the door. The house reeked of weed and sweat, all the criteria for a proper frat party, except everyone is in a Halloween costume.

“Girl, where else would the party have been?” Jimin scoffed lightly. She paused in the doorway, looking down at her phone before she sighed. “Apparently Sungchan’s waiting for me in the living room, I’ll see you two later?” Both you and Minjeong nodded, wishing the girl goodbye and watched as she walked away in her cheerleader costume. 

Turning to each other, you silently agreed that the first thing you needed was a drink, so you headed off to the kitchen. 

“I forgot to tell you how hot you look in that outfit.” She said in your ear, loud enough for you to hear over the music, and you gave her a smile while you poured yourself a drink. 

“So do you,” you whistled as you looked her up and down, the way the gross boys in movies do when they spot a hot girl. 

Together, you looked like an odd pair, seeing as you were dressed up as Jennifer, from Jennifer’s Body, and Minjeong was Little Red Riding Hood. The music thumped through the air as the two of you stood in the crowded kitchen, surrounded by costumed partygoers. The laughter and chatter blended with the bass, creating a symphony of Halloween revelry. Your playful compliment still lingered in the atmosphere, adding a touch of warmth to the otherwise chilly, dimly lit room. You took a sip from your drink, the alcohol burning your throat, but your attention was momentarily drawn away from the sensation by something else. From across the room, you spotted a familiar figure, the ever so iconic Ghost Face mask, in the back corner, talking to a boy dressed up as a mummy.

The menacing presence seemed to defy the festive atmosphere, and your eyes were drawn to it as if by some magnetic force. The Ghost Face mask turned slowly in your direction, and even though you couldn't see their face, you felt a shiver race down your spine. It was as though an invisible connection had formed between you and the enigmatic figure, a connection that transcended the costume and the anonymity it provided. There was something magnetic about their presence, something that sparked a potent and unspoken attraction.

For a brief, electrifying moment, your eyes met those hidden behind the Ghost Face mask. Time seemed to stand still as you locked onto each other, and a subtle, unspoken acknowledgment passed between you, like a silent agreement in the midst of the raucous party. Your heart quickened, and the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that charged moment.

Feeling a surge of heat and anticipation, you reluctantly tore your gaze away from the enigmatic figure and turned back to Minjeong, who had been watching the silent exchange with keen interest. She met your eyes, and the shared understanding between you two was palpable. “You saw him too, didn’t you.” Minjeong said in a way that had her sounding winded. With a knowing smile and another sip of your drink, you and Minjeong silently toasted to the unspoken intrigue that had captured your attention.

As the night continued, the magnetic pull you felt towards the Ghost Face figure in the corner didn't wane. It was like an invisible thread connected the two of you, and despite the ongoing revelry, your attention kept drifting back to that mysterious presence.

Minjeong, ever perceptive, nudged you and raised an eyebrow as if to say, "Why not go for it?" Encouraged by her silent urging, you decided to take the initiative. Setting down your drink, you nodded toward the Ghost Face figure, indicating your intention to approach.

Minjeong gave you an encouraging thumbs-up before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to navigate the sea of Halloween costumes on your own. You weaved through the dancing crowd, anticipation growing with each step.

As you approached, the mask-wearing figure seemed to sense your approach and turned slightly in your direction. They leaned against the counter with their arms crossed over their chest, waiting for you to arrive. The closer you got, the more you could feel the intensity of the connection between the two of you.

Finally standing face to face, the silence was almost deafening. The mask stared at you, unmoving, but you could sense a palpable tension beneath it. Without exchanging words, you both seemed to understand that this moment was special, a secret shared between you in the midst of chaos.

Slowly, your hand extended, and you reached for the Ghost Face mask. Your fingertips brushed against it, and you felt a rapid heartbeat beneath your touch. The mask gave the slightest nod, and you grasped it, carefully pulling it up.

Beneath the mask, a pair of intense, dark eyes met yours. You were momentarily lost in their depth, captivated by the enigmatic stranger who had held your attention all night. The corners of your lips curved into a small, knowing smile, and a spark of recognition flared in those deep, mysterious eyes. 

The unspoken tension that had been simmering between you erupted in a whirlwind of excitement. It was a dance of anticipation and curiosity, an unspoken agreement that you had both been waiting for this moment. And even though the music continued to thump, and the crowd continued to revel, for that brief, electric moment, it was just the two of you, locked in a silent, thrilling connection.

You told him your name when he asked for it, and he introduced himself as ‘Jeno’. 

“You wanna take this upstairs?” he asked with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You sucked in a breath and nodded before he pulled the mask back down and took your hand in his to lead the way through the crowd.

The staircase was crowded with a few people, Minjeong included. You spotted her talking to a girl in fairy costume and when you caught her eye, she gave you a grin, wider than you’ve ever seen. 

Every now and then, Jeno’s leather gloved hand would lightly squeeze yours as you climbed up the stairs. You held on a little tighter each time, but before you knew it, you were standing in front of a room with a big ‘JN’ poster hanging in the middle.

The boy opened the door for you and let you enter first before entering himself. The door clicked shut behind you as you sat down on the bed, your eyes locked on Jeno's every move. With a seductive confidence, he slowly peeled off the Ghost Face mask, revealing a mischievous smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.

As he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours, you sucked in a breath in response to the sensual tension that crackled between you. His gloved hands, still gripping the mask, dropped to his sides, and he advanced with a slow, deliberate purpose. The room was drowning in desire, and you couldn't tear your gaze away from him.

Jeno moved in until he was standing directly in front of you. His presence was magnetic, and you found yourself unable to resist as he placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin. The touch was electrifying, and you leaned into it, your eyes closing as you savored the sensation. You reached up slowly and pulled his hands away, suddenly regretting it, but you went on with pulling the leather gloves off, exposing a set of large, veiny hands. 

Kicking off your shoes, you moved to the top of his bed and watched as he concentrated on your every move with dark eyes. In a flash, Jeno had pulled off the cloak, leaving his chest exposed and him only in his jeans. It felt like you were freezing without his touch on you, but soon enough, he was in front of you, inspecting your face before his eyes ultimately landed on your lips that were stained red from makeup.

His lips rushed to meet yours in a tantalising kiss, a soft exploration that soon deepened into a passionate melding of mouths. The taste of him was intoxicating, and your tongues danced in a heated rhythm, exchanging breathless sighs and moans. Every kiss, every brush of his lips against yours, sent a rush of heat through your body. It was amazing.

His hands travelled from your face, down to your waist and they pulled you to meet his body. Jeno groaned into the kiss from all the friction caused by his chest rubbing against your sweater, making his nipples hard and sensitive. 

While your arms wrap around his neck, Jeno’s hips dig into yours, creating a tent in his pants. It’s hard and uncomfortable but the pressure it’s putting on your cunt is to die for, so you grind… hard. Jeno moans your name while his hands tug at your jeans so aggressively you thought he would tear them if he continued. After blindly messing around with your pants, Jeno popped the button open and pulled down your jeans, exposing the lacy underwear you had on. 

You whined as he pulled away from your lips but you shut up quicker than ever when you noticed how he was staring at your pussy. He looked hungry.

He looked like he was starving.

And starving, he was.

Jeno practically tore off your panties, tossing them somewhere behind him, before he dove into you. His tongue pressed flat against your pussy, licking a stripe up, the muscle’s warmth and making you moan softly. His nose poked at your clit as his tongue toyed with your hole. He lapped at your folds, making sure no spot was left untouched by his tongue. Jeno loved the way you tasted; you had the best pussy he’s ever eaten, he felt like he could spend all day eating you out, and he’d never get tired of it. 

Jeno pulled away for a second to put his middle finger in his mouth, coating it in saliva before pressing it to your entrance. A hum escaped your lips as his thick digit slowly pulsed in and out of you as your hands worked to take off your sweater and shirt. Soon, one finger became two, and Jeno went back to eating you out. Your moans were driving him crazy; they were making it hard focus on your clit because his cock was so fucking hard. The hand he had pressed on your lower abdomen moved down to his button, undoing it and moving the zipper down far enough for him to get his dick out. 

As he rubbed his cock, Jeno’s teeth grazed your clit before his lips latched on to it, sucking forcefully. With that, it didn’t take long for that feeling to start to form. As your moans quickened, the pace of Jeno’s fingers grew faster, and he sucked harder on your clit– if it were even possible. He loved the way you were tightening around his fingers, like you were trying to keep them inside you, wanting them absorb your juices.

“Fuck, Jeno…” you gasped, fingers tugging at his dark, messy hair. “God, I’m so close.”

Your eyes squeezed shut right as you were about to cum, but you never did. You felt so high, but now you dropped back down to zero, and you were empty and cold. Opening your eyes, you saw Jeno looking down at you with a smug expression. He leaned down and kissed you softly, which allowed you to taste yourself off his tongue, the somewhat sweet taste filling your mouth. 

Reaching down, you felt for his cock, and began stroking when you found it. He was girthier than other guys you’ve had sex with, and he had a slight curve upwards, but my god was he long. You didn’t know if he would fit, but there was nothing you wouldn’t try. 

Jeno moaned as he kissed you, the feeling of your warm hands rubbing him up and down forced him to thrust at the pace you were moving at. He pulled back from your lips to drop his head into the crook of your neck, marking and panting against the soft skin. Behind the shell of your ear, he wet a small spot with saliva before he kissed it softly, and he did the same to a few other spots. He sucked on your skin until it bruised while he moved down to the curve of your neck. Jeno’s hot tongue laid against your skin once again before he closed his teeth around it. 

You jerked his cock harder as the boy continued to bite into different spots until his husky voice whispered a demand. 

“Stop.” Jeno told you.

You did as you were told, but you kept your fingers trailing up and down his shaft as he kissed back up your neck, to your lips.

“Gimme two seconds.” he said against your lips with a smile. You kissed him quickly before he got up, which made him chuckle. 

You watched as he got up, cock out and everything, which made you smile a bit. Jeno slid off his remaining clothes and tossed them in what presumed to be a laundry bin, and opened a drawer of his dresser, only to pull out something wrapped in a gold foil. 

Oh…

Not one;

Not two;

Or three;

But six.

Jeno pulled out a strand of six condoms before he turned back to you. “Just in case.” he smiled innocently, even though he absolutely was not. He tore one from the line and ripped the top off with his teeth before he handed you the open package. 

“Only six?” you asked in attempt to make a joke out of the pain you’re going to be in tomorrow. 

Jeno chuckled as he shrugged while you took the condom and rolled it on to his cock. “We can use the whole pack if you want, it’s new.”

And that was that, seeing as Jeno grabbed your face and kissed you passionately. His tongue eagerly explored your mouth once again, grazing your own tongue and cheeks before he pulled away. A string of your mixed saliva hung like a teather from your mouth to his.

“Turn over for me, won’t you?” you nodded in a daze and turned so that your face was in the pillows. “Good girl,” he said, his cool hands grazing down your back, sliding all the way down to your ass. He spread your cheeks far enough apart to see everything, and you swore you heard evil laughter coming from somewhere. 

What you thought was going to come, did not, in fact, come. Instead, you were surprised to feel a warm glob of spit fall on to your ass and how it trailed down to your pussy. Jeno leaned down and licked one long stripe, starting from your clit and ending at your ass. His tongue poked into your hole, once again, but this time he scisored in and out, the same way he used his fingers earlier. His tongue was warm and soft inside you, but that feeling didn’t last very long. 

Jeno pulled his tongue out, subbing it out for his fingers, but instead, he used his tongue on your ass, sending shivers down your spine. He licked at the puckered hole, warming it up a bit as he fucked your pussy with his fingers. 

“You doing okay?” he asked, but you were only able to moan out your response. His fingers fucked you faster, his thumb was ruining your clit with friction, your ass was slick with his spit. Everything was happening just as it needed to be for you to cum. “Oh fuck, Jeno, I’m gonna cum.” And this time you did. Jeno’s fingers curled inside you as they fucked you through your orgasm. Your body shook, your pussy was covered in spit and cum. Jeno’s fingers were coated in a mixture of his and your fluids, and he sucked it off like he was eating icing from a cake. 

You felt hot and sticky; he hadn’t even fucked you with his cock yet and yet that was the best orgasm you’d ever fucking felt. “Jen… Jeno, I need you.”

The desparity in your voice sent Jeno spiraling and in no time, the fingers in your pussy were gone and his cock was poking at your enterance. He spit into his hand and coated his covered cock in it, even though he doubted he needed it, considering the fact that you were so wet you could drip on to his bed.

With a slow push, Jeno’s cock entered you, but refrained from moving after hearing you gasp. You knew he was going to be big, but you didn’t know he would be that big. He was a length you’d never taken before, so it took you a few minutes to adjust to his size, but soon enough you were able to build up to a medium pace. 

Jeno’s hands snuck up your back to undo the clasp of your bra, exposing your breasts. Jeno firmly gripped your ass, with his thumb prodding at your assshole. You hummed with pleasure as the thick digit dipped into you slightly. With that, along with the pounding from his cock, you were basically in heaven. 

“Faster,” you gasped, finally feeling only pleasure as he fucks into you.

Pulling you up by the shoulder, your bra slipped off in an instant, which let Jeno get a proper view of your tits, plump and beautiful. He watched how they jiggled with each thrust, and he grew more and more fond of them. Jeno even switched his grip on you from your shoulder to your neck. His hand gripped you around the base of your throat, just tight enough for there to be a handprint later. Meanwhile, the other snaked down to your pussy, where he drew fast circles on your clit. Jeno’s cock was deep inside your cunt, it filled you to the brim and you were loving every minute of it. 

And so was he. The sound of skin slapping on skin, how your pussy fit his cock like a glove, how you moaned his name like you knew it well, how your back was practically glued to his chest. That made him go crazy; that made him fuck you even harder– a more vigurous pace that felt so good it brought you to tears. 

Jeno got a hold of one of your nipples, it was hard and practically begging for it to be twisted. You moaned at the feeling and begged for more through your tears, so Jeno’s arms crossed over your stomach, his hands reaching up to play with your nipples some more. He pulled at them until they slipped from his grip, he squeezed them until you begged for mercy. When he shoved two fingers in your mouth, you gagged and yet you could still go further. Jeno pulled his fingers out and covered your tits in your spit.

It didn’t take long for his hips to pick up the pace once he that he was about to cum. Your moans grew choppier and choppier as his thrusts became more sharp. 

“Shit, baby.” he groaned, his teeth biting down on your ear loab as he came. Your breaths were ragged in the moments of his orgasm, but you could feel his cock twitch inside you, even with the condom. Your body couldn’t keep up with the speed he was going at and soon enough you were shaking in his arms for a second time, cumming with him.

When Jeno pulled out, your head lolled backwards and you eyed him with a smile. Jeno kissed your temple and whispered his next words into your skin.

“On to the second condom, then?” You each laughed at his comment and Jeno wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly as he shook with laughter.

The boy helped you off of him before getting off the bed again to switch condoms. The exchange was quick and before you knew it, Jeno was hovering above of you once more, staring down at you like you were his prey. This predatory look formed a pit in your stomach, but the good kind. 

Jeno’s eyes scanned you from head to toe. 

Your body glistened with sweat, collarbones and throat covered with markings of all kinds, your nipples were puffy and wet, and your pussy was swollen and slick with juices. Everything looked delectable; you looked delectable and he was so tempted to consume it all. 

The boy picked up one of your legs and propped it over his shoulder and placed his tip at your entrance. He bottomed out smoothly, and this time you seemed to be able to handle his length much better. Your head sunk into the pillows as you let out a sigh. 

You watched how Jeno’s eyes closed when he felt your cunt wrap around him with his head falling back with pleasure. “Feels so good.” he groaned into the air, his jaw hanging open slightly as he continued to thrust. His head turned to the side and he brought your calf closer to his mouth, littering it with harsh bites and soft kisses.

Biting your lip, you reached your arm out, silently asking for him to come closer to you, to which he accepted. Setting your leg down, Jeno placed his arms on either side of your head, his face now just centimetres away from yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you wanted to keep the eye contact, so you mustered up the courage to look into his swirling orbs. In his eyes were a mix of emotions, ones that were unrecognisable to you, but you liked it. Tilting your head up slightly, you pecked his bottom lip lightly, which earned you a grin from Jeno. It grew wider when you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him in even closer to you. He hummed and kissed you back forcefully as he picked up the pace, his balls slapping against you sharply. 

The tears that ran from your eyes down your cheeks seemed to motivate Jeno. Before, he could only hear your sobs, but seeing you cry switched something inside him. It made him want to fuck you harder, just to see you cry even harder. You looked so pretty, with your makeup all messy and tears running down your face. He loved it. 

So he fucked you harder, and so you cried harder, you moaned louder, and you pawed at his back. His skin was under your nails, he could feel how they cut into him the harder he thrust. You were driving him fucking insane. 

Jeno leaned his forehead on to yours as he moaned out sweet nothings. “I fucking love your pussy, fuck.” he cursed. His words made you tighten around his cock, which only made him groan louder, but it was like music to your ears. He felt like your pussy was sucking him in the way it would constrict when he fucked into you. 

“Jeno, please,” you whimpered, but you didn’t even know what you were begging for. “Fuck, Jeno, you’re so fucking good.” you repeated your words as you whined out to him. 

His words made your insides flutter, his movements made your heart race and your breaths quicker. Everything felt so good you could barely moan out words anymore. 

He was fucking you dumb and silly. You were nothing but drawn out exclamations and tears. You were so sensitive, and yet you didn’t even want to tell him to stop. 

It was just too good to stop.

So he kept fucking you, and he kept filling you, over, and over, and over again until you felt it. “Jen… Jeno, fuck, I’m cumming.”  Suddenly, Jeno pulled out again, the same way he did earlier, but this time, he crawled between your legs again, fingering you until you came while jerking himself off. This one hit you so hard that your mind went completely blank and no words could even come out of your mouth. Jeno couldn’t even register what happened until he felt a wet substance leak on to his sheet. 

He couldn’t fucking believe it.

His mouth latched on to your squirting cunt almsot immediately, drinking in your juices like it was water. Some  liquid dripped down his neck as he lapped up the rest that leaked from your pussy, but he never let up. He continued to eat you out so well even after you came, you thought you were going to do it again.

As your hand raked through his dark hair, all it took was one tug at his roots for him to cum. Jeno rode his high by fucking himself into his mattress, and until he was done, he rest in between your thighs. 

Slowly making his way up to you, you looked down, only to find that his dick was still hard. “You’re joking, right?”

“How about we finish that pack in a bit, hm?” he grinned, making you scoff. 

[glossdebut]

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ 01

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SERIES SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you.

✧ SERIES TAGS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fake/pretend relationship (not main couple), rockstar!yoongi, model!reader, guitarist yoongi, singer jungkook, bassist taehyung, drummer jimin, manager namjoon, yoongi & maknae line are in a rock band, reader & seokjin are best friends, yoongi & hoseok are best friends (sope duo ftw), yoongi has a tongue piercing, reader is a brat

✧ CHAPTER WARNINGS: recreational drinking, yoongi is an asshole (see series masterlist for series warnings)

✧ CHAPTER WORDCOUNT: 6.1k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: NEW ERA NEW ERA NEW ERA! whew!!! i’m excited for this one! this is going to be a loooong ride, so buckle up and enjoy! please note the slow burn tag on this one, because i’m not joking around with it. trust me, it’s going to hurt me just as much as it hurts you.

a HUGE thank you to tanni @yooniivrse for continuing to beta read for me <3 your commentary never fails to make me laugh and your edits save my life.

P.S. everything i know about the korean music industry is informed by my years as a kpop fan. i don’t know much about the rock scene there, so expect inaccuracies galore going forward. i do my due diligence where i can, but that can only help so much.

CH. 01: ALL YOU PEOPLE ARE VAMPIRES!

You aren’t entirely sure when you stopped feeling at home in places like this. There has to be some kind of defining event, some kind of indicator of The Before and The After, but every time you try and figure it out you come up short.

In The Before, not all that long ago, you would be scrounging for the bus fare rattling around in your pockets to get to a place like this as soon as you punched out from your shift at the Speedy Mart.

During your short stint in college, your friends didn’t understand your obsession. Music venues, to them, were fun for a weekend’s night out. The thrill of flashing a fake ID, of flirting with the musicians after their set, of getting said musicians to buy them drinks—it was a satisfying rebellion, a fun story to tell people at school and hide from their parents.

But you were there every day, even after classes and graveyard shifts under fluorescent lights, always racing to the nearest show without even changing out of your polo. It was never a rebellion to you. The lights, the thumping bass, the secondhand smoke—it made every nerve ending in your body light up.

You were born in this smoke, as far as you’re concerned.

Maybe it’s different now because it’s work to be here. But what isn’t work, these days? Your life is micromanaged down to the minutiae—the meals you eat, the products you use in your hair, your goddamn piss breaks. There’s no clocking out for you, no gasp of relief that comes after. Such is life for one of Seoul’s many playthings.

Even in the dead of winter, your stylist, Hyerin, has you in a dress that begs to be pulled down every five minutes like clockwork. 

You learned a long time ago to bite your tongue on matters like this. The brands you work for pay you for the exposure you give them, after all. The chill that settles in your bones from the ten steps you take from your paid car to the venue door will be well worth it next time you count the zeroes in your bank account. At least, that’s what Hyerin told you as she pushed you out of the car and into the cold.

Wasteland looks the same as it did the very first night you ever stepped foot inside. Same red, glowing guitar sign above the entrance. Same shitty overpriced drinks. Same sticky floors. It’s nice that some things never change even when you do.

You’ve never been on the balcony, though. You’ve gotta hand it to Jeongguk—he’s really pulling out all the stops. To your knowledge, the balcony is normally reserved for VIPs. Close friends and family of the band, other celebrities, lucky and well-connected fans. Significant others. You suppose you fall under more than one of those categories now.

The crowd gathered on this side of the stage buzzes incessantly around you, waiting for the set to start. The excitement is palpable, and you understand why. It’s the very last show of Burn The Stage’s very first world tour following the release of their third studio album, and they’re ending it here: in Seoul. At Wasteland no less, the venue that housed the show that got them signed in the first place. Of course people are excited.

If you were the same person you were in The Before, you would be, too. 

Instead, as the stage lights go down and the crowd roars around you, you down the rest of your drink and pray it’ll do its job and calm your fidgeting. For a split second, the thought that maybe you shouldn’t be drunk tonight passes through your brain, but it disappears as quickly as it comes. Your hopes of making a good first impression were squandered as soon as Hyerin zipped up your dress. 

Besides, it’s not as if Jeongguk picked you for your shining reputation. More like the opposite.

With a flash of lights and a cacophony of sound, Burn The Stage launches into their first song on the setlist. The crowd roars around you, but you’re not here as a fan, so you try to remember everything Jeongguk taught you in preparation for tonight.

If you weren’t already close, most everything there is to learn about Jeon Jeongguk himself could easily be found with a simple Naver search.

Not only is Jeongguk the lead vocalist and rhythm guitarist of Burn The Stage, but he’s also the de facto face of the band, and he couldn’t be better suited for the job. He’s beautiful. Like, seriously beautiful. Well-built and knows it, sings songs about love and sex and anger with the sweetest voice known to man, covered in tattoos and piercings that eommas everywhere pretend to disapprove of when they’re actually ogling just as much as their daughters. He’s a teenage girl’s wet dream, and with that comes hordes of them using the deductive skills of the NIS to figure out the last time he took a shit. Very little in his life is a secret, whether he likes it or not.

The rest of the band, in turn, gets the luxury of a little bit of mystery.

Park Jimin, the drummer, and Kim Taehyung, the bassist. Jeongguk’s best friends in the world. You’ve met them both in passing before, at industry events here and there, and they both seemed nice enough. 

Jimin has a bit of a reputation for being temperamental, angry, but the way Jeongguk describes him paints him as something gentle. Childhood friends who’ve known each other since scraped knees and runny noses. 

It’s public knowledge that Jimin wanted to be a dancer, before this—that when he was in college, he suffered an injury that ended his dancing career before it even started. One moment he was one of the most promising ballet students in Seoul, and the next he was retired at nineteen. He doesn’t like to talk about it, but every time the band is interviewed the question is inevitably asked. Do you have any regrets? You’ve watched the videos, seen the way he shakes with anger even as he answers with a saccharine smile. You have a feeling getting along with Jimin won’t pose any challenges for you. You know a thing or two about regrets.

Taehyung is a bit harder to figure out, but not in any way that sparks concern. He’s just an interesting guy that way. 

He was the last to join the band, the first to answer a ‘BASS PLAYER NEEDED’ ad posted around the city. Apparently, he was so good that they didn’t feel the need to call anyone else.

He lives in his own world, does his own thing. Posts very artistic photo dumps on his Instagram with concerningly cryptic captions. He’s quiet when he’s around people he doesn’t know, but when he’s put in a room with Jimin and Jeongguk he becomes the loudest person there. He’s kind, caring, always seems to know the right thing to say even if it’s delivered in the strangest manner possible.

Jimin and Taehyung won’t cause any problems for you. Jeongguk assured you that they’d be easy to win over, that as long as Jeongguk likes you, you’re in with them. 

The real wild card is the guitarist. Min Yoongi.

According to Jeongguk, Burn The Stage wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for Yoongi. When the band formed, they were just dumb kids with a shared dream, but Yoongi was the one to set it all in motion. 

When they didn’t have anywhere to practice, Yoongi convinced the ajumma he worked for to let him cram as much equipment as he could fit into a tiny noraebang room. When venues wouldn’t book them without the guarantee that they would draw a crowd, Yoongi burned hundreds of CDs and stood on the streets of Hongdae begging people to listen. When shady entertainment companies started offering them laughable contracts, Yoongi found Namjoon and somehow convinced him to manage them for dirt cheap. When they finally got an offer worth taking, Yoongi made them mull it over for as long as they possibly could. Weigh the pros and cons and decide if it was what they really wanted.

If Jeongguk is the face of the band, Yoongi is the heart. Unfortunately for you, this particular heart is very well-guarded.

Yoongi takes his privacy seriously. He refuses to answer interview questions he deems too personal, he doesn’t use social media. When asked why, his answer is always that he wants the music to speak for him. 

Because that’s another thing: every single song that Burn The Stage has ever released has been penned by Yoongi. To his credit, it’s kind of what they’re known for. His lyrics have a raw honesty to them that’s gotten the band into trouble more than once. 

You finally tune into the show that’s unfolded below you, the words spilling from Jeongguk’s lips loud and clear in your ears now that you’re paying attention.

​​Well, I ain't got no dollar signs in my eyes That might be a surprise but it's true Said, "I'm not like you and I don't want your advice Or your praise or to move in the ways you do and I never will" 'Cause all you people are vampires And all your stories are stale And though you pretend to stand by us I know you're certain we'll fail

It’s rock music. It’s polarizing, controversial, edgy. Biting the hand that feeds them—especially in the eyes of the executives lining the band’s pockets, you’re sure. And yet everyone eats it up. 

Still, Yoongi wouldn’t get away with half of it if he wasn’t attractive, you’re sure of it.

Because he is. Attractive. They all are, and he’s no exception. He checks all of the boxes annoyingly well. The long hair, the signature smirk, the little silver barbell on a tongue that he seems all too happy to flash at a moment’s notice. Too bad he seems like one of those pretentious, tortured artist types that take themselves way too seriously. That’s never done it for you.

Jeongguk is the one singing Yoongi’s words, and he might as well be Korea’s sweetheart—if it weren’t for all the tattoos. He conveys the message of Yoongi’s songs exactly as intended, but he doesn’t have to act like an egotistical gatekeeper to do it.

Maybe it’s a preference on your part. You’ve always had a thing for sweetness.

★ ★ ★

After the concert, you’re ushered off of the balcony by one of the band’s security guards. It’s the same guy who escorted you up when you arrived, and you note to yourself that he’s very polite. Eunwoo, according to his nametag.

It tracks, given Burn The Stage’s reputation for making sure the women at their concerts feel comfortable in the crowd. You’ve heard stories about them stopping mid-song to have handsy men kicked out, and it’s nice to know their commitment extends to the people they employ for themselves.

Eunwoo offers you his hand palm-up as you descend down the balcony stairs, and you take it with a grateful smile. You’re feeling wobbly in these shoes, and the drinks you’ve downed since your arrival aren’t helping matters. Even with the assistance, you still feel like a baby giraffe as you step down, but thanks to Eunwoo, you don’t eat shit.

Eunwoo dutifully guides you backstage, to a grimy, graffitied hallway housing the dressing rooms for Wasteland’s talent of the night. Jeongguk waits outside of one of them, guzzling down a bottle of water as a female staff member dabs sweat off of his forehead with a pristine white towel. She’s only there for a moment before slipping back through the dressing room door. Finally noticing your approach, Jeongguk turns his head and grins at you, and you feel your nerves ebb away instantly. He’s good at that.

As you get closer to Jeongguk, you turn to smile and nod at Eunwoo in thanks. He smiles back politely, wordlessly falling back to give you some privacy.

“Daaaamn, YN-ah,” Jeongguk says, whistling lowly as you reach him. “You’re going to cause a bloodbath in there.” He nods his head towards the dressing room door, and you roll your eyes despite the heat building in your cheeks.

“I know, I know,” you say, smoothing your hands over your dress. “It’s not exactly a meet-the-family outfit, but I didn’t have a choice.”

“Nah, it’s cool. You look hot,” he says, grabbing your hand and making you do a spin, forcing a surprised laugh out of you as you try not to trip over yourself. Jeongguk keeps you steady, though, with a hand on your shoulder. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you say, although you’re sure your face gives away how terrified you are of what awaits you on the other side of the door. “Maybe you should’ve picked an actress for this, though.”

“I trust you,” he says softly, squeezing your shoulder. “It’s not too late to back out, though. I’ll understand…”

You believe him, of course. Those doe eyes don’t lie, and even so, he’s already told you over and over how bad he feels for asking this of you. But you don’t want to back out. Jeongguk has given you so much since you’ve met—it’s only right to try and repay him for it.

“I want to do this,” you assure him, reaching up to squeeze his hand on your shoulder. “I’m just worried I won’t be able to pull it off.”

“You will,” Jeongguk says, smiling down at you warmly. “Don’t sweat it too much, okay? We’ve got this. It’s not like I have to pretend to like you.”

Right. You wish Jeongguk’s words did what they were meant to and instilled some kind of confidence in you, but what they actually do is make your chest ache uncomfortably. Pull yourself together, you think. Now’s not the time.

You smile good-naturedly, hoping Jeongguk doesn’t notice the way it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “Let’s get this over with,” you mumble.

“That’s the spirit!” he laughs, sliding the hand on your shoulder around to the other one so his arm is slung around you. You hate the way your heart flutters, despite the fact that you’d prepared for this. Dumb bitch.

Jeongguk cracks the dressing room door open just enough to ensure that all of the men inside are decent, and then he’s guiding you inside, your hands flying down to smooth your dress over again, just in case. 

The dressing room is bustling with more people than you expected, people you recognize from the balcony and staff alike. There’s a fast-paced rock song playing over a bluetooth speaker, almost loud enough to drown out the chatter. 

Everyone seems to be in celebration mode after the last show of the tour. There’s a large sheet cake on a cart in the middle of the room emblazoned with the band members’ faces in frosting, plastic champagne flutes littered around the room in varying states of fullness. Judging by the bottle in his hand and the way staff members wipe at his face fussily, it seems like Taehyung took the liberty of pouring champagne over his head to cool off.

You’re used to having lots of eyes on you—it comes with the job—but something about the way Jeongguk’s bandmates immediately stop what they’re doing and take notice of your presence startles you, puts you on edge.

“Jeonggukie! You missed the cake,” Jimin calls, standing up from where he sat on the couch. He holds out a slice of the sheet cake to Jeongguk, tilting his head at you as he approaches. “Where do I know you from?”

Jeongguk removes his arm from your shoulders to take the plate, snorting at the image of his decapitated cake-head staring up at him. “Hyungs,” he says, grabbing a plastic fork and digging into the slice. “This is YLN YN.”

“Oh, we’ve met before! The model, right?” Taehyung pipes up from where he’s still being wiped down, and you nod politely. “I saw your Innisfree campaign last month. I couldn’t remember whether your skin was really that nice in person.”

You watch as he extricates himself from the staff, ignoring their protests as he walks away from them.

Taehyung gets close to you, close enough to inspect your pores like he clearly intends to, and you fight the urge to instantly recoil. Jeongguk seems too busy stuffing his face with cake to interfere, and you want to make a good first impression. So much for your personal bubble.

“It is,” he says, nodding sagely to himself.

“Th-thank you?” you stammer. Beside you, Jeongguk finally tunes back in.

“Jeez, hyung,” he says around a mouthful of cake. He chews for a moment, swallowing thickly before continuing. “Let her breathe.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung says sheepishly, backing out of your personal space, and you let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, shaking your head.

“It’s fine,” you say, mustering a polite smile. 

You note that despite his initial (albeit subtle) acknowledgement of your existence when you walked in the door, Yoongi now seems entirely disinterested in interacting with you. He hasn’t moved from where he’s planted on the couch, focused intently on strumming his guitar. How he can even hear what he’s playing over the noise is beyond you. It’s not even plugged into an amp. 

You’d be a little annoyed that he hasn’t even bothered to greet you, but you reason that he must be pretty worn out from all of the fanfare surrounding the show tonight. Introvert recognizes introvert. You try not to take it personally.

“Do you know Jeongguk-ah well?” Jimin asks, drawing your attention back to him. His eyes bounce between you and his bandmate. He seems to be putting the pieces together, so you glance at Jeongguk, wordlessly passing the question his way.

Thankfully, Jeongguk seems to get the hint. He tosses his plate in the nearest trash can before sliding over to you again, his arm slipping around your waist easily, betraying nothing.

“Hyungs,” he starts, glancing at you and nodding once. Let the show begin. “YN-ah is actually, um… my girlfriend.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi sit up. That got his attention, it seems. 

A hush falls over the room, even the eyes of the staff members within earshot widening in response to Jeongguk’s announcement. Oh shit, you think. Please let this go well.

“Since when?” Taehyung asks, curiosity piqued. Thankfully, though, he doesn’t seem upset by the new information. At least, not as far as you can tell.

“Well, um,” Jeongguk starts, tonguing nervously at his lip ring. He pulls you closer so you’re practically curled against his chest now, and you silently pray that the way you’re looking at him reads as sweet and not like you’re about to jump out of your skin. “It’s actually been a few months now… Since right before the tour, actually.”

“Right before the tour?” Jimin asks, his brow furrowing in obvious confusion. “So you’ve been doing long distance?”

Jeongguk glances at you, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, it was bad timing on my part,” he says, his eyes fixed on yours. Damn. If he didn’t have such great pipes, you’d say he should’ve gone into acting. He’s male lead material. “I just couldn’t leave without telling her how I felt.”

You wish that you could do or say literally anything useful instead of just clinging to Jeongguk’s side like a barnacle. This is supposed to be a joint effort, but you feel frozen in place, unable to find your voice. It’s a good thing Jeongguk seems to be pulling it off all on his own.

“So cute,” Taehyung coos, bumping his shoulder against Jimin’s conspiratorially. “Our Jeonggukie’s all grown up and in love.”

“He’s always been a romantic,” Jimin joins in, miming at wiping fake tears as if he’s a proud parent. He reaches out and grabs your hands, startling you. “Please take care of him.”

“Hyuuuungs,” Jeongguk whines, tearing his arm away from you to whack Jimin and Taehyung on their heads simultaneously. “You’re going to scare her away!”

“Doubtful,” Yoongi says from where he’s still seated on the couch. Oh, so he does speak. It’s the first time you’ve heard his voice all night. It’s low, raspier in person than in the videos you’ve seen online. His words are directed at Jeongguk, but when you turn your head to look at him you find that his gaze is fixed on you. Your pulse spikes at the discovery. “I don’t think anything could scare her away from you, Guk-ah.”

The words themselves are innocuous, even supportive, but something about the way he says them makes your gut twist. Nobody else seems put off by it, but you can tell something’s not right. You have to say something, to open your mouth and speak. You have to pull this off, for Jeongguk.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, forcing a smile. You manage to tear your gaze away from Yoongi, looking back at Jeongguk. He’s grinning down at you, and it’s real, even if the pretense of it isn’t. Your smile becomes a little less forced in return.

★ ★ ★

Jimin and Taehyung are insistent that you stick around and celebrate for a while, so you do. You end up enjoying yourself, despite the weird moment with Yoongi. 

Jimin and Taehyung are fun to be around, just like Jeongguk said they would be, although conversation between the three of them becomes a little hard for you to follow sometimes. They just talk so fast. 

They ask you questions about your job, your friends, your family. They also tease Jeongguk relentlessly in front of you and seem all too thrilled to find out that you’re their noona. You find it surprising how easily you open up to them, but it just… happens. Just like it did with Jeongguk when you first met.

You relax enough to convince yourself that your perceived pointed nature of Yoongi’s words earlier was all in your head. Surely, he couldn’t have a problem with you when he doesn’t even know you. Jeongguk told you himself that Yoongi’s a quiet guy. Maybe that was his own way of telling you he approves of you. He hasn’t said or done anything since to make you think otherwise. Granted, he hasn’t said or done anything, period.

Once he arrives, you meet Namjoon, Burn The Stage’s manager. Jeongguk told you a little bit about him, but it was mostly just thinly-veiled thirsting. Now you see why.

He clarifies right off the bat that he already knows who you are, which saves you the anxiety of having to go through the whole routine again, and then he apologizes for being late.

“I was talking to reporters. I wanted the guys to be able to celebrate without having to do any interviews,” he explains as he shakes your hand with a dimpled smile. Damn. Yeah, you don’t blame Jeongguk one bit.

After a while, the champagne catches up with you and you have to excuse yourself to the bathroom.

The staff member that was dabbing Jeongguk’s sweat earlier—Minji, you learn—directs you out of the dressing room and to the nearest women’s bathroom further down the hallway. 

You try to make it as quick as possible, much tipsier than you thought and all the more unstable in these shoes because of it. After one last check of your hair and makeup in the mirror, you make your exit, focusing down at your feet as you go.

Unfortunately, you run headfirst into someone’s chest in the process. Hands come up to grab your elbows, steadying you before you fall flat on your face. For a second, you think maybe Minji had been waiting to escort you back to the dressing room, but these are not a woman’s hands holding you up. Wait a second, you think. You definitely saw these ring-clad fingers displayed on a huge screen earlier. Strumming at a guitar, perhaps?

In a moment of amazing mental clarity on your part considering the state you’re in, you realize that these are Min Yoongi’s hands, and your head snaps up to look up at him.

“Yoongi-ssi! I’m so sorry!” You quickly right yourself to the best of your ability, pressing your hand to the wall next to you for support.

Once he’s sure you can hold yourself up without his help, Yoongi instantly retracts his hands, crossing his arms over his chest. “I should’ve been looking where I was going,” you add, doing your best to bow in apology without losing your balance again.

Yoongi tilts his head at you as if he’s assessing you, his gaze inscrutable. Man, for a lyricist this guy isn’t big on words. You’re just about to politely say goodbye and head back to the dressing room when he finally speaks.

“I’ve spent the past hour trying to figure out what your angle could possibly be, but I’m coming up short.”

Um. What?

“Huh?” you manage, blinking at Yoongi like he’s suddenly grown a second head.

“It’s not like your career’s in any trouble. Nobody thinks you're Korea’s angel or anything, but your shit reputation hasn’t stopped you from getting brand deals,” Yoongi continues, scoffing to himself. “Are you just bored? Is this what you do to amuse yourself?”

Uh oh. He knows. He knows for sure, and even worse, he thinks that you’re the mastermind.

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, forcing your voice to remain level. You don’t even try to defend your reputation. It’s not like he’s wrong. 

“Right,” Yoongi says, leaning in a little closer, like he’s about to tell you a secret. “Well, a word of advice. If you want people to buy that you’re really in love with Jeongguk, you could try to look less like you’re going to throw up when he touches you.”

FUCK. You thought you pulled it off. You thought you pulled it off, and now here’s Jeongguk’s goddamn hero telling you point-blank that you didn’t. You wrack your brain trying to think of anything you could possibly say to defend yourself, to get this guy off your ass, because this cannot be your fault. You’d never forgive yourself.

“I—”

“Or,” Yoongi starts, cutting you off. “You could just cut the bullshit and leave Jeongguk alone.” He pauses, rubbing his chin as if he’s pretending to think about it and then nodding once. “Yeah, let’s go with that one.”

Jesus Christ he’s a piece of work. You feel your fists clench at your sides, your nails digging painfully into your palms. You just got your nails done, and there’s a strong possibility you’ll draw blood, but it’s all you can do not to strangle this asshole right here and leave Burn The Stage without a guitarist.

“Yoongi-ssi,” you say, your words dripping with fake politeness. Fuck this guy, actually. “I don’t know what I’ve done to give you such a bad impression of me, but I assure you that Jeongguk and I are very much in love.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t buy it?” Yoongi asks, voice tinged with impatience. “You may have everyone else in that room fooled, but not me, and if you hurt Jeongguk I can guarantee it won’t end well for you.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you snap. “Again, I don’t know what the fuck I’ve done to make you think so poorly of me, but I meant what I said in there. I’m not going anywhere.”

You need to remove yourself from this interaction right now before you do something stupid like burst into tears. You take the opportunity to push past Yoongi before he gets a chance to say anything else, making sure to essentially shoulder check him in the process because again, fuck this guy.

You stalk down the hallway, feeling much more sober now. It’s as if all of the alcohol got forcibly drained from your system in the face of total fucking disaster, and you’re honestly thankful for it, because the last thing you need is this asshole seeing you actually fall.

For a moment, you’re fooled into thinking you’d successfully ended the conversation, but of course he needs the last word.

“I know more about you than you think, dollface.”

Dollface? The fuck?

You chance a glance behind you and you immediately regret it. Yoongi leans against the wall where you left him, an amused smirk spread over his face, and the sight immediately fills you with dread, a type of primal panic you haven’t felt in four years flooding your senses.

He doesn’t… He couldn’t know about that. There’s no possible way. Jeongguk doesn’t even know about that. Nobody does, because you’ve done everything in your meager power to keep it that way.

You whip your head back around to face front, your heels clacking on the crusty linoleum beneath them as you continue down the hallway. Don’t look back, you think. He doesn’t know. 

You’re thankful that you brought your bag with you to the bathroom, because you’re very much not in the mood for a party now. Once you’re safely outside, you call your car and send a text to Jeongguk explaining your sudden escape. You felt sick, you tell him. 

It’s not like it’s a lie. 

Yoongi loves being on stage.

Over the past few years, there’s been a noticeable change in his demeanor. He’s become passive, apathetic to the normal day-to-day that comes with being a celebrity. Nothing really wows him anymore.

He remembers the way he reacted to the accommodations the band received when they first got signed. He was way too scared to ask for things at first, but the label gave it all to him anyway.

For instance, Yoongi’s always been particular about his stationery. The first time he filled a notebook after getting signed, he didn’t even think to consider it a company expense. Why would he? He was fully capable of buying his own shit, even if he had to save up for it. Sure, every time he had to write a lyric down on the back of a receipt his eye would twitch, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before.

But the label guys noticed. Before he even had a chance to buy his next batch of notebooks and pens, he was sat down in a spacious meeting room and asked point-blank what he needed. When Yoongi gave them specifics—Leuchtturm 1917 unlined hardcover pocket journals and a fuckton of Uni-Ball Jetstream Premier pens—they didn’t even bat an eye. When he—rightfully—warned them that he might strangle someone if he’s handed a gel pen instead of a ballpoint, they just assured him that wouldn’t happen.

Ever since then, there’s been an endless supply of exactly what he needs, always within reach. He’s still grateful for that, of course, because he goes through those fuckers fast. But it’s just a fact of his life now. It’s not special to get his fucking Leuchtturms anymore, not when he could douse his entire supply with gasoline and burn it on a whim and still have a fresh one in his hand within mere minutes.

And it’s not just journals and pens.

Namjoon is the band’s representative. Yoongi picked him personally long before there was any contract, or even hope for one, and if everything were to go to shit tomorrow, Namjoon would still be there. But after the single from their second album charted on the Billboard Hot 100, a label-equivalent to Namjoon was hired, as if anybody could ever be equivalent to Namjoon. Park Hyunseok. Park Hyunseok, whose sole duty is to buzz around Yoongi and his bandmates like a pesky fly and “make sure they’re happy.” They quite literally want for nothing.

Yoongi remembers when his skin used to buzz with the emotions simmering just under the surface. He was fiery in his youth, pissed off and ready to prove a point. He felt everything strongly, fully.

Not so much these days. Anger is only marketable for so long, or so he’s been told.

For the past year, Yoongi’s felt numb to the world. And he’s dealt with it, of course. That’s what he does. The album did great, the tour sold out, the boys are happy. That’s really all that matters. He just doesn’t know how he’s going to write another fucking album if he’s got nothing to write about anymore.

Still, he loves being on stage. There’s nothing like it. It never gets old, never gets boring. He still hasn’t gotten used to the feeling of stepping onstage and feeling a crowd scream his name, scream his lyrics right back at him. Lyrics to songs that he wrote in his shoebox apartment when he was eighteen and it felt like nobody gave a fuck about him. Funny how things change.

Nobody can take that feeling away from him, even if they’ve taken all the other ones.

It’s been a good night. It feels good to be back in Seoul after being away for months, feels even better to be on this particular stage again. Yoongi always feels keyed up after a good show, itching to do something with all of the energy thrumming through his body, and tonight is no different. He’s almost giddy with the opportunity to celebrate this tour with his bandmates and Namjoon and then go home and crash. Home. Fuck, it’s a good night. He has a hot date with his king size bed.

But then you.

It’s been years since you’ve even been a thought in Yoongi’s brain, and he liked it that way. Unfortunately, it’s apparently true what they say: all good things must come to an end.

Yoongi sees right through you. He's met so many of your type in his life that even if he hadn’t met you before he would’ve been able to sniff you out the second you walked backstage. Users. Social climbers. The bored and braindead looking for their next toy. The exact kind of person he’s been trying to protect Jeongguk from this whole time, and now you’re on his arm. 

And whatever, a hookup is one thing. Yoongi frankly doesn’t give a fuck where Jeongguk decides to stick his dick. The less he knows the better on that front. But a relationship? No, it isn’t real. Yoongi knows that much. Maybe it is for Jeongguk, but not for you. He's never even heard Jeongguk, hopeless romantic extraordinaire, talk about you.

Jeongguk introduces you as his girlfriend, and suddenly it’s like Yoongi’s watching a car crash in slow motion. He prays that he’s not alone, that Jimin and Taehyung have caught on to your piss-poor acting skills—seriously, you look like you’re about to pass out—but it looks like Yoongi’s entirely alone on this one. You have them wrapped around your little finger with minimal effort. He has a feeling that comes as naturally to you as breathing.

Of course, Yoongi has the added displeasure of having met you before, way back when. When you had the chance to be somebody, before you pissed it away, to what? To pout in front of a camera for a living? He thought he’d run out of ways to be wrong about you four years ago, but clearly you just can’t help yourself.

And of course you don’t remember him. Why would you?

Yoongi knows Jeongguk better than anybody. He also knows that thing people say about teenagers is true. If you tell them not to do something, they’ll only want to do it more. Jeongguk may be a grown man now, but he’s stubborn as fuck, and he never grew out of that. If he goes to Jeongguk and flat-out tells him that his girlfriend is a piece of human garbage, Jeongguk will only date her harder.

He tries to control the infection at the source by confronting you directly, but it’s clear the fire that he thought you lacked is, in fact, there, if only to piss Yoongi off.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say.

Okay.

If that’s how you want to play, Yoongi can fucking play. He’s going to make you wish you’d left Jeongguk alone when he gave you the chance.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future fics!

✧ TAGLIST: @jajabro @pitchblack0309 @sugar-snap @ot72025 @ktownshizzle

@futuristicenemychaos @tea4sykes @sugainmybowl @namjoonsbuspass @wobblewobble822

PREVIOUS CHAPTER ✧ MASTERLIST ✧ NEXT CHAPTER

[chosotallgf]

DOUBLE IDENTITY #2 - TOJI FUSHIGURO

🔙 previous chapter Next chapter🔜

SYNOPSIS y/n is a third year college student who is about to intern for the top business company in Japan in a week, what happens when she unknowingly cross paths with her future boss not knowing he's hiding a secret.

WARNINGS mafiaboss toji x fém!reader, geto x fém! reader, alcohol, moderate au, sexual activity, criminal activity & behavior, naoya is his own warning, angst & fluff (not really lol) not proof read

p.s my work is only on A03 & tumblr!

Fast forward arriving at the club, shoko usually gets us in faster by talking to the bouncer. So happen she found out he was the guy she fake flirts with at the gym she ‘occasionally’ goes to. She said he landed a job here not so long ago, that he needed the extra money and was helping out a friend. Finally stepping into the club it was pack as hell no wonder utahime wanted to get here as soon as possible.

This is one of the main popular clubs in the city, surprisingly it’s not just made up of college students in the area but locals come here as often too. As i squeeze through the crowd trying to keep up with my girls I can feel the loud bass of the club music in my chest. turning around shoko grabs my hand “come on I hear the the DJ is playing lots American of music tonight” she said while smiling. I haven’t listen too much to American music in my life time but if I had to pick it would be ‘Les’ by childish Gambino to be played at least once.

Reaching the other side of the club where the bar is utahime puts in a few orders of drinks than shoko, we usually always order something stronger each time we come here. not paying attention to what she was saying I happen to look down at the bartender hands, oddly his knuckles were bruise and you could tell they had been bloody by how dark they were from his pale skin but I guess that’s what happen when you work at a popular club with crazy drunks who don’t care. snapping out of my glaze when he clears his throat and utter “and what would you like ma’am?”

Now Looking up at his face trying to get out of my head “um can I have 3 margaritas and 1 rum coke pls?” I rely but soon enough utahime & shoko look at my funny they both know I have a low tolerance when it comes to drinking but I still do it anyways.

“What?” I question them “aren’t we suppose to have fun tonight like we planned, so I say fuck it” utahime smiles wides “you sure? You know you can just start off-“ but she gets cut off by the bartender guy “if she wants to have that much to drink let her life short” I nodded in agreement with him “see? nothing wrong that’s tomorrow me problem” “fine but don’t call us when you feel miserable from a hangover” utahime mumbles. “You should go find us a free section, we will bring the drinks out and find you” shoko slaps my shoulder from behind.

Off and further from where I left, I can’t find a free section maybe ‘maybe I should try the other side this club is huge tho’. Not looking forward I bump straight in to the chest of a man? I tumble backward but luckily before I could fall he catches my back. Now we are super close chest to chest i get a clear vision of his face despite the all black hoodie he’s wearing. dark dead eyes with a noticeable cut on one side of his lip. He’s staring back into my eyes This feeling of closeness is getting intimidating I wonder if he realizes his hands are clutching more firm on my lower back. I start to panic

“Omg I’m so sorry” I can feel heat in my face now. I can tell he was lost in thought too because as soon as I said that he quickly turned his face and pulls his hoodie down over his eyes and let’s go making me find my balance again. “Pay attention next time” he speaks in an aggressive but low tone. “I know I know I was just looking for a sect-“ he cuts and moves me out his way saying “tch, whatever” he mumbles as he walks to the private section area. how fucking rude I think.

Im surprise the club didn’t kick him out for being suspicious with a hoodie on in here, they honestly should after that. next think I know shoko is now in front of me yelling over the loud music clearly trispy “y/n stop standing around and come over here we found a spot” shoko starts pulling me along with her.

I get to our own section i assume but see two guys, both of them I recognize as utahime and shoko childhood friends. “since you couldn’t do a simple task I had to ask this dickhead here to let us sit” “you should be lucky, I wasn’t even planning on being here tonight, my usual dealer been Mia and I need stuff for next Thursday party” he wines.

“Anyways let’s get to drinking we’re wasting time” I grab and drowned the 2 cups of margaritas “well someone is in a hurry” I hear the other guy next to gojo say “I’m suguru geto” he reaches his hand out to me to shake. I do the same “I’m y/n and yeah I just wanna let loose tonight” his hands are so soft and firm I wonder if his long hair feels the same. “No judgement here me and satoru are about to do the same” “sooo shall we finally get started or what?” shoko utter as smoke leaves her mouth.

author note ~ if you are seeing this when it’s first posted I will post chapter 3 later on during the day it’s 5am rn for me and I can’t sleep lol. if you wanna be tagged in that just lmk :) 9/8/24

likes and reblog are appreciated

[darkeralmond]

Do you write smut for conrad fisher? If you do can you do a jealous conrad x reader? thank you!!

i do now! thank you so much for requesting ILY anon ❤️❤️

WANNA BE YOURS

Conrad Fisher x fem! Reader

summary: You and Conrad were at a party for Belly’s birthday hosted by Nicole. You were stranded by Conrad and notice a guy alone on the couch. You decide to be friendly and talk to him before dancing with him. Conrad and you get into an argument over this until you say the thing he’s been waiting to hear.

warnings: 18+, smut, angry Connie, car sex, penetration, she/her pronouns, arguing, vulgar language, Conrad calling you “good girl”, dirty talk

word count: 1.9k

a/n: connie is a popular guy in my request board 😭, not complaining tho i love him!! thank you again for the request!! P.S. I LOVE ARTIC MONKEYS AND PAXTON H-Y!!!

masterlist | request info

The music was loud in your ears as you entered the crowded living room. Conrad had left you alone to go find out where Steven was, but all the people in one space triggered your claustrophobia.

You looked over and saw a guy sitting by himself on the couch with a look of defeat on his face. There were people dancing all around him while he chugged whatever substance he had in his red solo cup. Usually, you don’t feel sympathy for strangers, but something about this guy made your heart wrench.

You approached him. “You alright?” Sure, it’s weird when a stranger asks others how they’re feeling, but some people need to vent to someone they don’t know.

He looked up at you with red eyes, you couldn’t tell if he was high or if he had been crying. He sniffled, “Yeah, uh, I caught my girl cheating on me with my homeboy upstairs.”

Shit. “Oh,” you replied.

You sat down next to him while he explained, “It’s chill. She was a bitch anyway.” He brought his cart up to his lips and took a hit. He was high. “You wanna hit?” He offered it to you.

You shook your head, “I’m straight edge.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “The fuck is straight edge?”

You laughed at his reaction. It was the same one every person had when you told them the same answer. “That means I chose to stay sober.” Your thought process was by staying sober, it helped you avoid all the drama that starts when you’re black out drunk. Drunk confessions, drunk fighting, the list goes on. “It just helps me stay out of trouble.”

He exhaled smoke from his lips and nose. “Ohhhh,” he laughed. “Respect.”

“Yeah,” you giggled. You then looked out at everyone dancing and having a good time. “Why don’t we dance?”

He smiled, “Sure.” The two of you got up from the couch and went to the middle of the living room. The Motto by Drake and Lil Wayne played over the speaker, the bass shaking the whole house. Due to all the people crammed in one room, you and the mystery guy danced fairly close to each other. “Hey, what’s your name?” he yelled over the music.

“Y/N!” you shouted back. “What’s yours?”

“Noah!” Noah yelled. You nodded your head while smiling. The two of you danced while screaming the lyrics to the song. “You’re really cool, Y/N! I think we’d make great friends!”

“What do you mean? You’re stuck with me now!” You and him laughed. That’s when you spotted someone familiar pushing through the crowd. It was your boyfriend finally coming back from his search. “Conrad, hey!” You waved. “Did you find Steven?”

He completely ignored your question, his eyes set on the guy who you were dancing with. “Get away from my girl.” He stepped in front of you.

“Woah, man. We weren’t doing anything.” Noah held up his hands defensively.

“Conrad, stop!” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s fine! We’re just chilling.”

He scoffed in response, “I recommend staying away from Y/N. We’re going home.”

“Conrad-”

“We’re going home.” He cut in.

He sounded pissed, it made your guy twist as you looked back at Noah. “Sorry about him,” you said with a frown on your face.

“Don’t stress about it, maybe I’ll see you around.” He waved bye as you got dragged out of the house by Conrad.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you yelled as the two of you left the house. “Am I not allowed to make friends now? Why don’t you ever trust me?”

He rolled his eyes, “I trust you! I just don’t trust that guy!”

You yelled, “You don’t even know him!”

“Neither do you! You don’t know what his intentions were, Y/N!” His eyes were wide with anger as he looked into yours, the veins in his neck strained. “Get in the car.” The car beeped as he unlocked the doors.

You didn’t want to cause a scene in front of everyone, so you just did as he said and got in the passenger’s seat. You folded your arms over your chest and stared out the window. He got in the driver’s seat next to you and started the car before putting it into drive mode. “Just so you know, his girlfriend cheated on him and he was by himself,” you mumbled while pouting.

“Y/N,” he said. This gave you a glimpse of hope that he’d finally listen to you, but he then followed it up by, “I don’t fucking care.”

You rolled your eyes and frowned, shaking your head. “You’re a fucking child.” He didn’t say anything, he just kept driving.

The radio quietly played music, the air was tense as you refused to look at him. He stopped the car at a red light. “Y/N, I’m sorry,” he finally spoke up. “I get really insecure, babe, and I just want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

You looked over at him, your expression softened as you said, “Connie, I’m yours.” You placed your hand over his that draped over the shift stick.

He glanced over at you and saw your innocent expression. You knew something instantly changed in him as you noticed his demeanor swiftly change. “Say that again,” he breathed.

Now it clicked. It turned him on to know that you and your body was for him and him only. You batted your lashes and smiled deviously. “I’m all yours, Connie,” you teased.

He stared at you longer, his breath slightly hitched. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. When the light turned green, he took a turn that was the opposite way of both your guys’ homes.

“Conrad?” you said, concern present in your voice. “What are you doing?”

“I’m pulling the car over so we can fuck.” Butterflies swarmed in your stomach due to the assertiveness in his voice. He pulled the car over close to the beach where there were no lights except for the car’s headlights. “You fine with that?”

You nodded your head, “Y-Yeah.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and look up at him. Conrad’s hand reached up to the side of your neck and connected his lips with yours.

He was hungry for your kiss touch. He was desperate for his hands to be all over your delicate body. He pushed into you, his tongue slowly licking the seam of your mouth, which led to a more forceful kiss. He gripped the collar of your shirt, pulling you closer.

You broke away and smirked. The anger from the argument earlier melted into lust. He slightly leaned the seat back as you climbed over the center console. You rested on his lap, your legs straddling him. He moaned as you kissed along his jaw line, then his chin before leaning down to his neck and sucking on it.

His fingers dug into your hips and pulled you closer, making sure you could feel his hardening erection against your lower body. “My… job is to make you… mhm… feel good,” he said between moans.

You pulled away, “What? I’m not allowed to be in control?” This won a chuckle out of him. “I’m kidding, go ahead. I already said I’m yours.”

He ran his fingers through your hair while biting his bottom lip. “That’s my good girl,” he husked before locking his lips to your neck.

Your back arched off his lap as he sucked harshly on your pulse point, your breathing became heavy and erratic.

Your hands found their way onto his hair as he continued working his way down your neck. You couldn’t tell who was taking control anymore; the two of you were too busy focusing completely on each other. Your body began reacting.

One of his hands came up to your hip, gripping tightly as another hand traveled to your breast. Both of his hands were touching the fabric of your shirt and caressing the skin underneath. A gasp escaped your lips as your hand found its way to his crotch. Your fingers brushed against his sensitive member, eliciting a moan out of him.

‘You like that, huh?’ you thought to yourself.

He suddenly let go of your breasts and grabbed your face gently with his hands, pulling your lips forcefully to his own. He kissed fiercely, his tongue slipping inside your mouth. He bit your lip causing you to moan, his hands moving from your face down to your ass. He started grinding against you roughly, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your entire body.

A loud moan fell from your lips as you bit your bottom lip. “Connie, just fuck me already,” you pleaded. “Stop edging!”

He chuckled, “You’re still on the pill, right?” You nodded your head eagerly. “Good.” He reached down to his pants which caused you to back up slightly. He unzipped the zipper and pulled down his boxers slightly to reveal his erection. You got up on your knees so you could pull your panties, that were soaked, off. He helped lift your skirt up and slip your panties down your thighs. Once they were off, he threw them to the car floor on the passenger’s side.

Slowly, he inserted himself in you. A gasp escaped out from you while Conrad groaned from the feeling of your warm walls. His thrusting was slow at a steady pace, you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second. He placed one hand on your thigh as his free hand gripped your ass. Your breathing grew shallow as the pressure building in your body increased.

“Oh god,” you whimpered.  “Please! Connie, I need you so bad!”

He continued to work his way into you until he slammed his pelvis against yours causing him to let out a loud grunt. He rasped, “You take me so well.”

As you continued to grind against him, he let out an animalistic growl. “God, Y/N, please,” he panted. You continued to grind against him, he was close, you knew it. You bit your lip, trying to suppress the sounds that were begging to fall from your throat.

His grip on your leg tightened, causing you to cry out as a wave of pleasure that rocked through your whole body. “Connie,” you whined. “Cum for me, baby, cum inside me!”

He pounded faster and harder. You felt your walls tighten around him, squeezing his erection. As he came, you let out the loudest scream anyone has ever heard from you. You clamped your eyes shut and squeezed your thighs around his waist even harder to keep him in you.

After a few seconds you managed to open your eyes. You looked down at him and could see his face twisted in ecstasy, sweat drenched over his forehead. You felt something hot pool in the pit of your stomach. You leaned down to kiss him again before getting off him. You reached for your panties and slid them back on. “You feel better now?”

He nodded his head as he caught his breath. Both your faces were flushed red from the heat of the orgasm. After recovering from his orgasm, he smiled softly. He grabbed your hand and brought you closer to him once more, placing his lips on yours. “We should head back. It’s almost midnight. And I wanna have some fun with you somewhere more comfortable”

You giggled and kissed his cheek.

[undead-supernova]

HIGH TOLERANCE

Live Resin / Masterlist

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

warnings: gay disasters, Steve (derogatory), a bit of angst but that's a given for pining best friend!eddie so enter at your own risk, weed consumption (but what's new in a series about weed consumption)

pairings: modern!bestfriend!Eddie x fem!reader (both bisexual bitches)

plot: let's go sing some karaoke and feel like we're dying, shall we?

wc: 6k

p.s. I listened to "Watch" by Maisie Peters the entire time I wrote this and I just cannot for the life of me let The Good Witch go. Anyone else in a chokehold from that album? Anyways, here you go!

“For you, my good sir!” you exclaimed, feigning a British accent as you got down on one knee and presented Eddie with a joint like it was a sword. And it was an immediate scrape to your knee, your black crop top and miniskirt riding up. You tried to save yourself by planting your maroon Converse on the ground, but it was met with instant failure. Eddie chuckled, grabbing your arm to try and stabilize you before he continued the bit. 

(Leave it to Eddie Munson to commit to a bit.)

“For me?” he asked, feigning a gasp as he threw his hand over his chest, his rings clinking together. “You shouldn’t have.”

You exaggerated a wink as you stood back up. 

“Sure, I did.”

“Wha’da we got, Weirdo?”

You repeated what the guy at Jailbait Hemp told you. It was a THC-A pre-roll that was covered in live resin (which technically has a higher concentration level than just the THC-A alone). It burned differently than other joints, a glaze lining the paper to burn like honey. 

Let it in slow and watch it go.

“She sure is a pretty one,” Eddie said, lightly running the pad of his pointer finger along the resin. It didn’t flake off or leave any residue on his finger. Incredible.

You smirked. “I know, right?”

“Kinda like you.”

You swallowed immediately, nearly choking as the spit went down wherever the wrong pipe was located.

Panic, panic, panic. 

“Oh, whatever,” you said, waving him away. You distracted yourself with wiping the gravel off of the scrape on your knee that showed promise of blood but stayed put. The most embarrassing thing you could think of was having to ask someone for a Band-aid because you were too busy doing a bit with a joint to remember that you weren’t wearing pants. Eddie would love that a little too much and you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.

“You’re right,” Eddie said with a nod, causing you to look back up. “Doesn’t come close to you, m’lady.” Without another word or time for you to even remotely process, he held out his hand and made obnoxious grabbing gestures. “Alright. Gimme, gimme. Wanna light her up.”

With shaky fingers, you handed it over. Eddie took his black Bic lighter and ran the flame back and forth against the twisted end of the paper. It took him two or three tries to keep it lit, but he finally got it, moving it around in circles to let it burn as evenly as it could. The air instantly thickened with the smell. But to be fair, you smelled weed wherever you went in Atlanta. Even on the highway somehow.

You could hear the music from Go Ask Mary from two blocks away, the bass of Madonna’s “Vogue” booming through the walls. It was almost time for karaoke to start and, to be honest, you were excited. Eddie had picked up some extra shifts at the car dealership and your shitty retail jobs at the Lenox Square mall had been draining. Especially when you were surrounded by stores like Chanel and Tiffany & Co. It was always your dream to work at a Sephora where all the pretentious rich people complained about needing a new Balenciaga bag before arguing with you when their sheer Tom Ford lipstick was out of stock. 

This was the first time you’d seen Eddie in a week, despite him practically begging to come over at 2am to watch the first Lord of the Rings movie on a Monday. The extended edition to be exact, all three hours of Elijah Wood and Sean Astin being the most iconic couple of the fantasy realm. It was embarrassing to admit, but you nearly considered calling out just so you could.

Tonight, you couldn’t wait to let off some steam, especially with the person who made every day worth it. Eddie looked as he usually did with all his chains and rings and pretty face and attitude. It was disgustingly unfair that he could wear variations of the same outfit every time you saw him and somehow looked better and better every time.

“There you guys are,” Steve sighed as he and Robin walked over from the bar. 

Steve was still in his suit, just without his tie and blazer. A few buttons of his white button down were popped with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Robin wore an oversized cotton button down, white with navy stripes and a loose navy tie. She looked like she was going to the beach for the day, even going so far as to wear jean shorts and checkerboard Vans.

“We should’ve known you were smoking,” Robin said, nose wrinkling before she pulled out her flask from her back pocket and took a few sips. “Did you know that one joint is, like, the equivalent of five cigarettes? I heard it on a podcast the other day and, believe me, that sounds bad. Like, really bad.”

“What else is new?” you joked, taking the joint from Eddie and filling your lungs with a few hearty drags. “At least we’re not vaping. That’s, what, the equivalent of a hundred cigarettes?”

Robin shook her head. “Actually, I read that a thousand-puff vape is the equivalent of five to six packs.” She paused, moving her fingers through the air as she solved the problem in her head. “So…about one-twenty?”

Eddie hummed, nodding. “Aren’t you glad I stopped smoking cigs six months ago?”

“Well, yes.”

“So smoking weed should be the least of your worries, Buckley.”

“You have a point. But honestly—"  

“Rob!” Steve interrupted. “Rob, listen. I have exciting news.”

“What is it?” you asked.

“I’m getting the first round,” he said proudly. “I got a bonus at work.”

“Thanks, Steve,” you said, genuinely touched by the offer. “That’s awesome, though. You’re literally moving up in the world.”

“Bringing in the big bucks, this one,” Eddie teased with a big smile as he took the joint from you. “Always a generous giver.”

Steve glared at Robin. “She thinks I should quit.”

“No, I do not!” Robin argued. “I just think you’re in a weird environment with weird men—" 

The high was already making its way through you, causing you to not-so-subtly stare at Eddie again. His eyes were trained on yours as Steve and Robin rattled on, entering some bickering fest that you were positive he wasn’t listening to. And the way he was looking at you… Well, it didn’t seem that platonic, did it? 

His eyes were doing that thing again, that slow gaze down your body before reaching back up to your eyes. Your fingers inched just a little bit closer to his and you almost swore you could hear his rings again as they fluttered towards yours. 

Robin cleared her throat, causing you to look back at her. She was eyeing you specifically, not even bothering to look at Eddie. 

Could she see it? What did she know? Was there anything to know?

“Well, we’ll be inside,” she said, grabbing Steve’s arm. “Have fun with the extra cancer!”

Eddie chuckled. “Thanks, Buckley.”

You watched them walk away, right back in their little fight. It was nice to be around them again. Truly, it was. You didn’t have too many friends outside of Eddie, always working during the week and never truly finding time to go out unless Eddie dragged you along. You could engage in small talk with strangers at Go Ask Mary on the weekends, but it was different when you got home and found your phone void of anyone to tell those stories to. Zero messages, not even from your parents or your sister. No Instagram DMs of cute animals or Tumblr messages of photography and memes. Just a phone that looked more like a coffin full of wires than access to the whole world.

Except for Eddie.

As he turned back to you, he lifted the joint and let it hover just above your lips. 

“Want some more?” he asked.

You looked up at him, nearly startled by how close he was to you. God, what was it about him? Maybe it was the dark color of his eyes, still illuminated in the warm sunset, nearly glazed over with a golden sheen. Maybe it was the way his hair was doing that thing after a fresh wash where the ends were slightly curlier than the rest. Or maybe it was the way his tips of his sneakers were meeting yours and the smell of tobacco and car air freshener was wafting off of him.

“Come on, you can’t deny you want it.”

“Um,” you stumbled. “Yeah. Yeah, I want it.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, you felt his fingers grazing your mouth as he placed it in between your lips. You took a long, slow drag while your eyes never left his. You wanted to look away. Really, you did. If anything, the sparks settling in your stomach were starting to pop and sizzle unlike ever before. 

You just couldn’t help yourself.

And if anything, he didn’t seem like he could either.

Tonight was going to be interesting.

The bar wasn’t very crowded, but that’s why you liked to go as a group during the week. Even if there weren’t many people looking to do karaoke on a Tuesday, it didn’t matter. There were four of you ready to tear up the fucking stage.

You went in rotation for solo performances, Robin singing “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac followed by you singing “Love Is a Stranger" by Eurythmics (despite it technically not being from the Eighties) followed by Eddie doing “The Stroke” by Billy Squire and finishing with Steve’s off-key rendition “Africa” by Toto.

When Steve returned from his noteworthy performance, the three of you congratulated him. He did a little bow before wiping the sweat off his forehead. 

Eddie patted the table and said, “Alright, I’ll go get the next round.” As he was about to leave, he looked at you. “Still want a vodka Redbull?”

“Of course,” you said with a smile. 

He gave you a quick wink. “Just checking, Weirdo.”

“Thanks.”

You turned back to Steve and Robin, watching Steve dab his face with a napkin. He was mostly definitely inching towards being drunk, always starting to turn red and sweaty whenever he was getting close. That, and he started to run his mouth.

“God, he’s dreamy,” Steve said, leaning his head in one hand. You followed his line of sight, all three of you watching Eddie walk to the bar. “It’s almost annoying how hot he is.”

Robin snorted. “Yeah, okay. Keep dreaming.”

Maybe it shouldn’t have stung the way it did. Anyone was allowed to find him hot. It didn’t mean anything. Just a bit of flattery, that’s all. But then it was like you couldn’t stop yourself and suddenly you were unable to keep yourself from asking the one thing you never ever should have.

“Do you have a crush on Eddie?”

You watched Steve laugh pitifully. “I mean, maybe?”

“Maybe? What does ‘maybe’ mean, Steve?” Robin asked.

“I mean, he’s hot, right? But I don’t know if he’d even go for me.” As he talked, he popped open another button of his shirt, showing off a bit of his wife beater and chest hair. “Like, okay, he’s just so pretty and he fixes cars and plays in a band? It’s cool as hell. But I don’t think we even have that much in common, so I don’t know. He likes metal, I like pop. He likes D&D and I like, uh, I don’t know? Poker? Anyways, I don’t even know what kind of guys he’s into. Do you know, Rob?”

Robin shrugged, meeting your eyes before saying, “I don’t know, Steve. Ever thought about asking him what his type is?”

And you shouldn’t have asked. Really, you shouldn’t. Because now you were here, sitting at a table while Steve moaned and groaned about his chances with Eddie, like it was some statistics problem. And then someone was doing an awful cover of “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper, the shrill sound mixing with Steve’s whining. And you? You were sulking. 

You looked over and watched Eddie wait for your drinks at the bar, wondering if Steve had any chance and whether you were more likely to get the guy in the end. Surely there was a silver lining in there somewhere. You enjoyed metal music and even convinced Eddie to listen to other genres. You enjoyed listening to Eddie talk about Dungeons and Dragons and showed him board games you liked, like Catan. Relationships weren’t built off of just similarities and differences. Steve was wrong.

Right?

As if Eddie heard your thoughts, he caught your stare, his lips pulling back into a large grin as he waved and moved his hips a little bit along to the grating karaoke. You couldn’t help but laugh at how awkward he looked, in turn doing the worst arm wave in history. He immediately started laughing.

Eddie was looking at you, wasn’t he? Steve wasn’t even bothering to look at the object of his desire. He merely talked about the guy, putting his head in his hands and panicking as if Eddie wasn’t in the same room. But you were looking at Eddie and now you were in a makeshift dance battle, embarrassing yourself by doing an awful robot while he did that shopping cart move.

Could Steve have this kind of relationship with Eddie?

And what were the odds of you winning?

What were the odds of you losing?

After a good bit of chatter, Steve and Robin headed towards the other end of the bar to set up a game of darts. Eddie went along, but you decided to stay behind. He found it odd, asking if you were sure and you’d nodded, telling him that you wanted a moment to yourself. 

But Eddie didn’t believe you. Not one bit. You’d started acting weird merely seconds after he came back with drinks. It was strange. One moment you were dancing with him across the room and the next your shoulders were slumped, falling out of any and all conversation. Even when he nudged you and tried to be playful, you seemed to pretend you didn’t notice. Instead, you focused on your straw and nodding along as if you were paying attention. 

He knew you hadn’t. He knew there was something wrong and, of course, he wanted to respect your privacy but there had to be something else there. Had Robin let anything slip? Did Steve act like an asshole? Were you upset with him? 

Robin and Steve were in the heat of a tie when Eddie finally decided to walk back over to you. He didn’t like seeing you so sad, so vulnerable. And with the addition of the high, he knew how scary that could feel. If something didn’t feel right, it could get extremely uncomfortable. And you couldn’t just be alone in that hole.

“Hey,” he said as he approached you. “Are you feeling okay?”

You put on one of the fakest smiles he’d ever seen before replying, “Yeah, I guess I’m just tired from work.”

Lie.

“Is the high getting you down?”

You shrugged. “A bit, yeah.”

“Um,” he said, gulping as he held out his palm. “Do you need to hold my hand?”

You looked down at his hand before looking back up. 

“No, I think I’ll be okay. Thank you, though.”

“Yeah, sure. Sure,” he replied, placing his hand on top of the other. 

He squeezed it to elicit something resembling comfort for the rejection he felt. It was like your hand was some kind of phantom feeling that made his chest ache with want. And that want was slowly but surely starting to burn.

“Well, uh.” He gulped. “I’m gonna get myself another beer. Want anything?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m okay.”

Eddie nodded before turning away.

“Hey, Eddie?”

He didn’t think he’d ever spun back around that quickly before.

“Yeah?”

You smiled weakly. “If you need me to drive your van back tonight, let me know. I don’t mind if you want to get a little drunk with Steve and Robin.”

And just like that, he died a little inside. Again.

“Will do, Weirdo.”

Steve was back on his bullshit.

“Oh my god, do you guys think I should try to sing with him? Get the sparks flying, you know?” He moved his head from side to side. “‘Do a little dance? Make a little love’?”

Robin smacked Steve’s arm. “You did not just do that.”

You let out a tiny sigh, looking away from his hopeful expression. Steve genuinely thought he’d cracked the code to Eddie’s heart. And you couldn’t blame him. Who wouldn’t want someone like Eddie? 

But really, you wanted to put your head on the table and bang it over and over.

Over. And. Over.

Eddie had gone to get a third beer and Steve had wasted no time before bringing this shit back up. You were seriously starting to dislike him for the first time in three years. Three. Years. He was obnoxious when he was drunk, sure, but it was never like this.

Or maybe you just hadn’t paid attention until tonight.

You shook your head, desperately trying to get the feelings out of your body. The blunt was starting to get the best of you, fogging your brain while your limbs felt like they were vibrating. This was killing your high. No, it was more than that. It was magnifying all the feelings you once swore to be dormant. 

You looked over to find Robin staring at you, her eyebrow quirked up. Noticeably, you might add. You and Robin weren’t that close—you were one of Eddie’s best friends to the rest of them. You had fun whenever the group would hang out, whether that be at Eddie’s shows or unwinding at Go Ask Mary, but you never truly hung out alone. 

Steve, Robin, and Eddie had moved to Atlanta three years ago, after they wanted out of their small town in Indiana. Steve’s dad had gotten him a job at a big boy law firm in the heart of Downtown. It wasn’t the best way to get into the business, but it was the best way to get all of them out. To start over somewhere bigger, somewhere with more opportunities. Steve convinced them to save up for the summer before driving eight hours to their shitty new apartment. He swung Robin a waitressing gig at a nice restaurant he had a business lunch at—charmed the owner and everything. Eddie had worked at a local gay bar in Decatur and played there sometimes on metal or punk themed nights.

And here Robin was now, staring at you like she was trying to figure out how you were feeling, as if you’d ever be phased by Steve’s confession. Confessions. And she was making eye contact, all bold and unashamed. Like she was some freakishly keen hawk, two steps away from letting out a ca-caw. And if Steve paid just a fraction, just a millimeter of attention, he’d notice. 

It was all quite unnerving.

“Don’t you think sparks would already be flying after years of knowing each other?” Robin asked, eyes flickering from Steve’s to yours and then back again. “I mean, I think you would know by now. If there was something between you.” She gestured over to you. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

What was her deal?

“Pfffft.” 

A bit of Steve’s spit flew out and hit your cheek. You would’ve laughed three hours ago. Now? Now, you were seriously considering bashing his head against the table.

(It was a big night for head bashing.)

“Last call for karaoke!” one of the bartenders announced.

“Wish me luck!” Steve said to you and Robin before raising his hand. “I’ll do it!” he exclaimed loudly, pointing to Eddie who had just finished closing out his tab. “I’ll do it with that handsome man over there!”

Eddie looked surprised but shrugged, a pleasant smile reaching his lips. “Yeah, sure, Harrington. Show me what you got.”

As they moved towards the stage, you swallowed the words resting on your tongue.

I wanted to sing with Eddie tonight.

“I hope he doesn’t embarrass himself.”

You couldn’t look at Robin. You just couldn’t.

“What song did he pick?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“‘Under Pressure’.”

Oh, fuck. You’d sung that in the car with Eddie plenty of times, always with a silent acknowledgement that whatever conversation you were having would cease and the volume was to be turned all the way up. You went for Freddie Mercury's part while Eddie took the lower octaves in David Bowie’s verses. Eddie sounded amazing when he sang it, confident with his range and feeding emotion into the song. And you melted. You just melted.

And when the song started and Eddie’s eyes drifted away from Steve and landed on you, well, you couldn’t help but feel seen. He thought about those times, too, didn't he? It was something you both held special. Right?

But Steve took Eddie’s hand and started trying to dance with him. Eddie laughed, trying to follow his complicated rhythm. Steve was stumbling and nearly fell of the stage, but Eddie caught him, stabilizing him. Just like he’d done with you in the parking lot.

Things were going downhill for you. And they were going down fast.

Eddie cleared his throat dramatically before starting the first verse. “Pressure, pushing down on me, pressing down on you. No man ask for.”

You let out a sigh at the sound of Eddie’s voice, all gravely and husky and soft all the same. It felt even better tonight with whatever was in this joint. You could feel it inside, like it was somehow spreading through you. There was a part of you that was sure you’d never get over it for as long as you lived.

Steve pulled Eddie closer, grabbing at his waist and slowly moving it down.

Oh my fucking god. Eddie knows what he’s doing, right? you asked yourself. Can he tell? Does he like this?

Eddie cleared his throat before belting, “It’s the terror of knowing what this world is about. Watching some good friends screaming—”

“Let me out!” Steve shouted.

They stumbled through a laugh at the ridiculousness, and you began to feel like you were slowly dying. Again.

“I’m…going to go to the bathroom,” Robin announced before scurrying off.

And you tried to keep your eyes off of them. Really, you did. You made yourself look around the room, scanning the face of a drag queen who was currently walking around and engaging in animated conversations with the few other people here. Her eyes were coated in pink glitter and tall eyelashes; nude lips perfectly lined and wrapped around the straw of a cocktail. She was absolutely gorgeous, as most Atlanta queens were. Plus, how could you ever look away from a drag queen? They were angels, truly. Archangels.

But it was Eddie’s singing that brought your attention back, as effortless as Bowie himself. Like there was nothing to it. Like he was always on the track to begin with.

You found yourself thinking about the night you met Eddie, right here in Go Ask Mary. It was the five-month anniversary of their official move to Atlanta, the three of them wanting to go out and celebrate not completely fucking up. They’d gotten out and they were doing pretty okay for themselves by the look of it.

And you? Well, you were a native to the south. Grew up in Tennessee, moved here when you saw the opportunity for college somewhere that wasn’t Tennessee. Found your way through college and realizing you were bisexual and, well, found Go Ask Mary. At the time, you came here with friends, but there was a period time after losing some of those friends where you preferred coming by yourself. It was an accepting atmosphere, one where everyone seemed friendly. You could have a six-minute conversation with a queer stranger and never speak again. But it would be fond and unforgettable. It would be transcendent. 

You’d gone up and done a dramatic cover of “I Miss You” by Blink 182, mimicking the singer’s voice rather than being serious about it. A few people laughed—and Eddie was one of them. He’d even let out a few whoo!s and yeah!s. When you’d gotten off the stage, he approached you immediately and asked you if you could be best friends. You laughed at that, thinking then that neither of you were serious. 

But then you’d spent the whole night talking and watching Robin and Steve perform.

And then they tapped out and decided to head home.

However, Eddie wanted to stay. 

And you told him you could call him an Uber. 

And then you stayed until closing, just talking. Nonstop. Like you were seeing an old friend for the first time in decades.

(Is there a joke in there somewhere about three disaster bisexuals and one tragic lesbian walking into a bar?)

“Is that your man?”

You looked behind you, noticing the queen from earlier standing with her hand on her hip as she tapped her acrylic nails along to the beat.

“Which one?” you asked.

“The crazy haired one over there with the wallet chain.”

You could feel your chest start to ache. “No, no. We’re best friends, but we’re not dating.” She let out a hum. You looked at her again, feeling hot all of a sudden. “Um, why? Why do you ask?”

A smirk formed on her lips as she touched your shoulder, leaning down to speak softly into your ear. “Baby, that man’s only looking at you.”

“He is?”

“Mhm.”

“Are you sure?”

The queen looked at you again, her eyebrow raising. “Oh, so you’re jealous of the other one?” She laughed as you gave a defeated shrug. “You ain’t been lookin’ hard, have you?”

“I’m not sure—"

“Honey,” she started, tapping your jaw. You looked back at her. “I know that look. But you ain’t gotta look hard to see what he feels for you.”

“Really?”

She patted the top of your head and stood up straight. “Girl, look harder. Oh, and don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”

And then she was waving you a goodbye and walking away.

You looked back to the stage to watch Eddie. You didn’t know how to believe her. Couldn’t. He was right there, leaning in and sharing a microphone with Steve, their faces practically touching. Lopsided grins coming from the two as Eddie hit a high note perfectly and Steve butchered the harmony. Eddie’s voice was dark and angelic. Steve’s eyes were red and perhaps they were sparkling in the purple and blue neon lights. They were having fun. 

They’d be a cute couple, a voice in your head said bitterly. And you can sit and watch and be okay with it. Swallow all your emotions like you always do. Let yourself fade into background noise as you watch someone take the spot you want the most. It’s normal at this point, isn’t it? You’re going to be that pathetic and weak, aren’t you?

You looked down at your drink, riddled with those incessant voices in your head telling you that you weren’t good enough. Because you weren’t as forward as Steve, or as brave as Eddie. You couldn’t just say the words or say anything at all. Eddie said everything he thought and made it clear how he felt. It was so simple for him. 

Besides…where would the friendship go if Eddie rejected you? Would it remain firm, the foundation solidified enough to keep you where you were before? Or would it start moving away, returning less and less frequently before the inevitable crash? 

And how could you ever fathom surviving the implosion?

Eddie began to belt the final chorus, leaving Steve in the dust while secretly trying to get your attention. Maybe he was trying to impress you with his strengthened vocals and (pathetically) wanted you to notice.

But you continued to look down at your drink, scowling and swirling your straw around. He wanted to know what the hell was going on, why you were acting so strange tonight. It’d started out so well when he picked you up, letting the music be the only thing moving you forward. Even in the parking lot, with the jokes and a longing look that felt like it lasted for hours. And now you were…well. Whatever you were. 

And the song ended, alongside the minimal applause and stage lights being turned off. 

Steve patted Eddie’s shoulder as they got off. Eddie nodded at him before turning towards your table. 

But Steve pulled at his forearm. 

“Munson, wait.”

Eddie looked back. “Yeah, dude. What’s up?”

Steve smiled and Eddie could tell that he was utterly drunk. It was one of Steve’s goofy smiles, always seeming cartoonish with the way his lips curved into a wave. Eddie always thought it was kinda weird how he did that. Even a little creepy.

“Listen, I’m just gonna come out and ask you a question.”

“Okay…” Eddie trailed, now facing Steve completely. 

“Would you ever want to go on a date?”

Eddie’s eyes widened, scanning Steve’s face to try and see if any of this was a joke. 

But there was no punchline. He was serious.

“Like, together?” he asked slowly.

Steve laughed, having to lean on a nearby table to stable himself. “Yeah! I don’t know, I just kinda thought we had some chemistry or something. I’m drunk so I can’t articulate it very well, but I’ve wanted to ask for a while.”

Eddie raised a hand to scratch along his stubble and thought about it. Had he really not noticed that Steve was into him? He thought he’d made it clear to Robin his affections for you. He’d just assumed she would tell Steve but, clearly, she hadn’t. 

It was all Eddie ever talked about when him and Robin were alone, holed up in Eddie’s bedroom with a couple of beers and When Harry Met Sally playing on his TV. She told him over and over how he should just say something to you or even drop hints here and there. And to be fair, he thought he had. Even tonight with the joint in your mouth and the comment about it not being as pretty as you. And you’d just waved it off. Acted like it was nothing. Moved on so quickly and so suddenly.

But. 

Well. 

Was there such harm in saying yes to Steve? You certainly hadn’t said anything and maybe it would be good for him to explore something with someone who he knew for sure wanted him. It could be simple with him. Steve was fun to be around. He could be happy with him if it went anywhere. Because it could go somewhere…

Right?

He stared at Steve for some time before he responded.

You tried to leave with Robin and Steve, but Eddie pulled you towards his van instead. That meant two blocks of walking together and he didn’t waste any time before he started talking.

“Where are you going, Weirdo?” he asked, throwing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into a side-hug. “You know you live closer to me.”

He was right. After Eddie had snagged his current job as a mechanic at a nice dealership, he’d gotten his own place so that he could have a space for himself. He really liked his alone time as much as he liked being around you or any of his other friends. One of the main reasons was because he needed complete silence when planning his campaigns and, well, Robin and Steve weren’t necessarily quiet people.

You chuckled, but it sounded forced. “Yeah, sorry. I guess I’m crossed or something,” you replied. “You’ve always had a higher tolerance than me.”

Eddie gave you a concerned look. “You okay?”

You nodded and tried to keep walking. 

But he didn’t.

“You’re not holding my hand right now.”

His voice was soft, hardly above a whisper.

“Oh, I guess I just wasn’t thinking about it tonight.”

Or you’re not actually cross-faded, Eddie thought to himself. But he didn’t say anything, just bumped your shoulder with his and tried to bring the energy back. You hadn’t smiled since you’d all left and there was no way you’d leave tonight without one. So, he turned around and started walking backwards, shimmying his shoulders. He cracked the code, watching as you began to snort. Thank God.

“So, did you like my killer vocals?” he asked, his playful tone raising the energy back to its rightful place. 

Until your smile faltered.

“Ohhhhhh, yeah,” you said, hardly sounding sarcastic or playful. And it certainly didn’t meet your eyes. “You and Steve looked like you were having fun.”

Eddie hesitated, wanting to tell you about Steve’s…proposition. Should he casually drop it into the conversation? Would tonight be the night that he admitted how he felt? Or would he continue to rely on you doing it?

“He asked me out,” Eddie said before he could think further, heart racing.

“What?”

“Yeah, right after we got offstage. Crazy, right?” 

“What did you say?” you asked, stopping in your tracks. You were only across the street from his van now. Only twenty steps. 

But you’d stopped. 

So, Eddie did too.

“I told him I’d think about it,” he replied.

“And have you? Thought about it?”

He tried to read your expression, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

So, he pushed. 

“I don’t know. Hadn’t thought of it before he said anything. I mean, it’s kinda out of nowhere…”

“Do you like him?” you whispered. 

Eddie thought about lying, to try and elicit some form of jealousy from you so he could start the conversation. Gamble and see what happens. But he couldn’t lie to you like that. It wouldn’t be right. It’d just be shitty. 

“Not really. Like, Steve’s pretty and all and he’s a really good friend or whatever. But I just haven’t really thought much about it and then suddenly there he was, poof, asking me out. And, I don’t know, I just thought it was a bit weird.”

You nodded along, looking away. “Yeah, that’s weird.”

Eddie couldn’t help himself. “Do you think I should say yes?”

“You’re asking me?” you asked, your eyebrows pinching together. 

You looked…upset. Why did you look so upset at the question?

“Absolutely,” he said, nodding.

“Why do you want my opinion? I mean, you’ve known him longer.”

Eddie shrugged. “Well, I don’t know. I value your opinion or whatever.”

You scoffed. “I don’t think I should be the determining factor on who you should date.”

You have no fucking clue.

“And if I wanted you to be?” 

The words left his lips before he could save himself and, God, his heart was banging on his flesh, like it was trying to escape. Like it wasn’t able to handle it any more in his wired brain.

You hesitated again. 

“Well, I don’t know.” Before Eddie could ask again, you sighed. “Do what you want, Eddie. Just…be careful.”

He shut his mouth again and nodded. 

“Yeah, alright. Sure.”

Eddie spent that night analyzing your hesitation. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe you were thinking about how stupid he was or, even worse, maybe you were just too scared to say anything. Like him. 

Your lips had quivered slightly. You were holding back those words again, the ones that felt like they’d already been shared and were waved off by the time you spoke again. And it drove him absolutely crazy.

And instead of asking you, he texted Steve.

About that date… When and where?

[blackdollette]

"boy, look at you lookin' at me" | euronymous

high by the beach. - lana del rey

summary: one night, you caught euronymous's attention when you were up on stage.

p.s. this has nothing to do with the original oystein aarseth. this is rory's portrayal of the character.

bassist!singer!fem!reader x euronymous

contents: slight stalking, enemies to lovers (kinda.), rockstar girlfriend aesthetic. <3

euronymous had seen your posters all over town. people were saying that you were going to be norway's next biggest thing, and that was all it took to tick him off.

he'd originally thought that you were just some little whore who could strum a chord and pop a tit for your fans to go wild for you, but when he saw the crowd for his performances get smaller, and saw your publicity grow just as quickly, he decided to see what you were all about.

he had been keeping up with what some of your fans were saying, helping him find out that your next show was the next day at 6pm, just before sundown, and he knew he couldn't miss it.

he shut down his shop early so that he could make his way to your venue. people were buzzing as he pushed his way through the crowd, only making his resentment for you grow stronger. he got to where you were performing, and just in the nick of time. you were making your way onto the stage, a dark red bass guitar slung across your shoulder.

as euronymous saw you in person for the first time, he snorted out a laugh to himself. you looked more like a barbie doll than a rockstar, your dark red silk dress, black leather jacket, torn fishnet stockings and black boots making you look like a little toy that was meant to be played with by all the lust-filled men in the crowd.

after a few minutes, it was showtime. you did one final sound check, making sure your mic and bass were working. as you made some noise, the entire stadium filled with the sweet sound of your fingers running down the neck of the instrument.

you took a deep breath before starting to sing in the mic. your voice was smooth like honey, but eerie with a little bite to it. it sent a slight chill down euronymous' spine. the sound of your voice mixed with the low, deep notes of the bass was truly enough to set a euphoric vibe in the entire stadium.

he found himself getting lost in your motions, watching your hips sway as you sang and played, your dark red painted lips moving with each note you sang. he felt his body heating up, specifically his cheeks. your beautiful noises were enough to put a man asleep and keep him up all night.

you were like a siren. you could lure in anyone you wanted with your beauty and elegance, only leading them to their own destruction.

the song you were singing was melancholic, but electric. (think "high by the beach" type of vibe.) euronymous had never had a liking for that specific type of music, but everything about you made it the only thing he wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

his eyes were locked on you. he felt as if he was the only one in the room with you, making this moment so much more addictive for him. he'd always believed that "love at first sight" was a bunch of bullshit, but you were making him question everything he's ever known.

as you reached the final chorus, your voice got more passionate, the words you sang making euronymous feel like the song was just for him. he felt a little smile creeping onto his face as he started walking closer to the stage.

you ended your song with a loud ringing note, the entire audience bursting into cheers. people started throwing blood-red roses onto the stage, them landing right by your feet. you blew kisses out to the crowd, thanking them all for watching your show, even though the pleasure was all theirs.

euronymous was so mesmerised by the way your body and hair moved as you walked away from the stage. he only snapped back to reality when you had disappeared into the curtains, heading backstage.

he quickly rushed to an alternative entrance to your destination, but he was blocked by a large, muscular security guard. he glared at the guard before speaking. "i'm her boyfriend. you'd better get the fuck out of my way before i let this get back to her." the guard nodded before stepping out of the way.

euronymous walked past him, flipping him off as he got further away from him. his head was still turned, so he wasn't looking where he was going. you had seen his little encounterment with the guard, and now you wanted to know what was up.

you grabbed him by the collar of his leather jacket, a bottle of red wine in your other hand. he turned to look at you, his cheeks flushing as he saw you from this angle. god, you were even more beautiful up close.

you scowled at him. "boyfriend, huh?" his eyes were glued to your red lips, him fighting every urge to bite them with his teeth. he cleared his throat. "so, your norway's next biggest thing." his eyes travelled up and down your body. he was picturing you in so many unspeakable ways.

"what's it to you?" you bit back. you looked at where your hand was on his leather jacket. you noticed a little badge that read the word "mayhem". you took a good look at his face before a wave of realization hit you.

"wait... you're in that band, right? the most famous band in the country?" you narrowed your eyes at him a little, making sure that you weren't mistaken. a smug little grin crept up on his face. "so you've heard of me. i'm euronymous, head and guitarist of the band."

"well, i guess you've got some competition now." you smiled as you ran your painted nail down his neck. he shuddered slightly. he had only just met you and you already had him completely wrapped around your finger. you had a feeling that he would be a fun little toy to play with.

you turned around and sat on a black couch in the corner of the room. "why don't we sit down and have a friendly little conversation, hm?" the look on your face was anything but friendly, but he couldn't refuse. you poured him a glass of wine as he sat down beside you.

you handed him the glass before putting your lips by his ear, whispering gently. "i think we're gonna have a whole lot of fun together, euronymous..." you gave him a soft kiss on the neck, making his face turn as red as your lipstick. in the span of 1 hour, he had gone from hating your guts to being your little bitch, and this was only the beginning.

author's note: i think this may be my favourite fic yet. im working on a part 2 along with a few other things, so stay tuned! :))

[sherwees]

yin ٭ yang (intentional undercase)

- based off of uglies, supernatural events, dubcon, marijuana usage, high n’ fly intercourse, a character almost overdoses and throws up all over themselves and it's pretty nasty, said character's almost od is mentioned multiple times, is this considered slow burn?

– p.s : mind you, over the course of five months so much shit and stuff happened within these months so I kinda lost my writing touch.. I felt bad for just creeping around and never really posting much so I decided to conjure the motivation to finish this within like 5 hours..

@teasteeper heavy anticipator for this..

as always, you look outside to the bustling city of nykaura, where you wished you were.

you belonged there, you swore you did. 

fiddling with the metal hoop around your pointer finger, you looked back to the tallest skyscraper of them all with those weird ridges.. right in the heart of nykaura. it reminded you of the worn out chrysler tower from the rysuries but taller. now, most of the towers that remained there are gone, ruined and abandoned. the chrysler, in fact, holds itself at a tilt and there was a belief that was probably only believed by you that it's only held only by the thin trellises that wrapped up and around it.

you laid back on the bed with a huff but then raised your hand to eye the ring again. you were contemplating, but you weren't sure about what. “interface..” you paused, still unsure. “um— I'm going to bed..” placing your hand on the window sill, it took a little too long for your liking until there was the little soft chime and the familiar dimming of the white lights to a deep lavender that made you breathe.

you didn't realize you were holding your breath.

before you knew it, the window was already unlatched and you were going out and climbing onto the fire escape. you knew where you were going, at this point. 

you had these outbursts where you would just want to breathe. you weren't a nykaurian or even privileged enough to be one. “shit–” you grunted. your foot slipped to the slick concrete and you tried to catch yourself by latching onto one of the stairs’ curlicues but you fell flat on your back. it just rained dumbass, the harsh reminder mocked you as you tried to brush off the pebbles, dirt and etc. off your ass.

a normal nykaurian wouldn't do this, only someone that'll sneak in until they fit in. that's what you did, that's what nana did and you were just following the lead now; since she was successful. after 3 years, she finally managed to get a boyfriend from there; he's rich, yadda yadda supports her, treats her well yadda yadda. 

there was something you hated about the holographic barrier between the rysuries and the nelves, it's like the government was taunting you like “we destroyed your house for the hundredth time within a century and now not only did your ancestors have to live by our rule— guess what… you have to too!” the debris that flew around the area around the bubble that surrounded the dead environment made you nauseous but gave you a sense of a weird nostalgia.

you looked back to your possibly temporary— home, the nelves were just dark.. brown buildings, tired yellow-orangish street lights and shabby, worn palisades and fences; you hopped over another one. 

the bass of electronic music grew closer, you then were shaken to the core by a gust of wind. light didn't really exist in the alley ways of nykaura, it was the metallic barrel fires lit up alongside the corners of the walls that illuminated the alleyway enough to see what's within 3 yards in front of you. but there was only some that you'll notice every once in a while so you were just navigating from memorization.

the conforces didn't even bother with who lingered here anymore. it just smelt of burnt vinery, sewage and gasoline; the closest thing to natural that the world had now.

“you.” the voice bellowed from your left peripheral, you tried to ignore the dark corner the voice came from. it took you to have a lash of curiosity to finally turn and meet eyes with a satisfactory brown haired male, about your age and a big contrast to the hobo or conforce you imagined.

your lips moved but nothing came out.

“you're sneaking.. where?”

“I'm not.”

“you don't look like a nykauri–”

“you don't look like one either.” you spat back before he could even finish, you now fully turned to the mischievously grinning male; your fingers digging into your palm. you would– punch him, knock some sense to him but there was obviously a strength advantage.

you noticed the little gap in between his two front teeth, so your statement was true; he wasn't perfect aka nykaurian. but the gap wasn't that visible, so you were probably weirdly staring.. so stop it.

he exhaled loudly before crossing his arms and adding a little more lean to his stature on the stone corner, his dahlia piercings gleamed in the moonlight. fuck, why was he hot?

“you're not sneaking to a party, are you?”

“just tell me if you're a conforce and take me back home.”

“I'm not, just curious..”

“well, leave me alone.” you shrugged with annoyance before continuing your journey by hopping over the fence that's been in the way the whole time. but he followed. “what!—heave— what the fuck do you even want?!” you shoved him with all your strength and it just left you breathless, embarassingly.

“whatever you wanna do, just do it now because we're completely fucking alone and I'm vulnerable and you're the bigger person, obviously!” you looked him up and down to prove your point but his expression remained totally still and unbothered by your dramatic outburst. his eyes gleamed into yours; still continuing their relentless search of your weakest points.

“well, what if I just wanted a friend?” the weirdos' round orbs lowered as he queried the comment with a lazy smirk, his hands sliding to his pockets. he started to blink slower to allure you or attempt to because it was— wasn't working.

it wasn't, you conceded mentally. 

“then you're not getting one, fucking creep.” you made sure to mutter the last part right after you turned, what if his intentions were sour. tugging on your coat, you tried.. you really tried to not look back. you faltered and glanced a teensy bit back but as half–expected, he wasn't there.. you kinda wished that he was following you. you thought you were lost once you found yourself cutting into another labyrinth of alleys and fence hoppings until you noticed the familiar blinking neon sign of a doodled cat. 

you made it to the tritus plaza. 

nana's candle shop was right under her apartment, you had the key in your now clammy palms. as you struggled with the lock, you wondered why she would trust you enough to even lend you a key.

after 10 minutes of yanking, kicking, slapping and seemingly trespassing to a passerby's eyes, the door opened and you were met with a nauseam of sweet aromas. you’re used to it, it'll just combine into the main smell of vanilla with a mix of lavender weeds and a hint of spearmint and usual jean paul gaultier cologne that made your senses sting once you were inside for more than 20 seconds.

you could tell that she was gone based off the faint glow from her curved staircase to her room, you were hoping that she'll help you find an outfit.

her room was a mess, per usual. her white vanity was left on with scattered lipsticks, mascaras and eyeliners. coming closer, you cringed once you noticed that some of them were open on the pristine desk along two lipsticks and a mascara wand on her white fuzzy swivel chair.

ignoring the catastrophe, you looked at the array of 6 flamboyant dresses laid on her bed; the middle one missing. the neon sequins on the two dresses towards the end made your skin itch and the two beside you weren't really that bad.. after minutes of contemplating, you decided to just go with the horribly neon pink and orange romper-like dress. it was pretty, stand out.. but it was kinda cute and the only one that wasn't too tight. the orange and pink spandex bell flares paid off the horrid outfit but the tight ass orange romper went up your ass a bit and you swore that the tux belt was wrapped right around your lungs.

swish swish..

what was that? you walked around in a circle like a dog chasing its tail until you noticed that you now possessed a neon pink trail on skirt that followed right behind you and tickled the top of your calves. whatever.

once you got outside, it was cooler than before. maybe it was a fact that your pajamas had actual thick, cozy fabric; rather than latex that sticks to every crevice of your body like gorilla glue. every shiver wracked through your body with every step you took towards the center of the city, something inside you wanted to see the man again. it was just something about him that–

“so you were going to a party?” you yelped and nearly fell, he was right beside you. he still wasn't wearing anything showy; just the same jeans, black sweatshirt with a baggy white under shirt.

“yeah, guess so..” you conceded, looking at the corner of his lips before inching to his eyes. he gave you a playful nudge on the shoulder, “you're so solemn for a girl who wants a friend..” was he reading your mind or something?

“yeah I am.” you paused your journey, petrified.

“YOU'RE READING MY MIND??” you thought and said simultaneously. “yeah and you could read mine.” the weirdo thought and smirked before nudging your shoulder. “um I-I–” you clasped your hands together before popping your lip in to bite and spinning on your heel.

“how about I start us off.. my names hendery and—” whatever else he said drowned out, you were in your head again. why was he doing this? what's the point of all this? you both turned around a corner and you swore that you felt his finger feather yours. you didn't realize how close you were to him, a heat rose up your neck. but how did he know the way to belle's house?

“I just know, sweetheart..” hendery teased before grasping belle's iron swirly handrail and disappearing around another corner and up her staircase. you tried to match the pace of hendery's longer strides but they faltered once you saw jaemin stepping backward towards the ledge of the roof. 

the fizzy neon pink champagne in the bedazzled flute swayed with his uncoordinated steps. jaemin laughed and laughed until his foot bumped the edge and he just fell..

you stood there on the back porch, flabbergasted and watched him fall a couple stories down and just waited to hear the god awful splat of his body against the concrete. from the corner of your eye, you could see his friends and even some partygoers from a window just snickering, laughing and pointing at him but to your surprise, he bounced back up comically with a protective bubble around him.

the strobing lights that lit brighter and dimmed to the constant changes of amplitude in the song.. just to make it absolutely more draining, the lights matched the beat of it and the song was gangnam style. nana always recommended it for some reason, she said that it felt nostalgic and about how she felt like she was a kid again but her home was destroyed as a kid so what nostalgia was there?

it made you sick, everyone looked alike; same nose job, same doe eyes. the only thing that gave them some sort of diversity was their tones and hues of eyeshadow or how they swiveled or dotted their highlighter.

but— where's hendery?

“hendery!” you shoved another person's shoulder, they glanced at you and mumbled a curse.

he was just gone, no matter where east and west, high and low you scavenged.. he was just gone. it's been about 20 minutes and he was a big contrast with more.. dark.. sluggish.. weird.. outfit choice so he couldn't have been that difficult to find. your boots were killing you, the wedge of it tapped against the sore heel of your foot as you paced through another hallway. peeking past another greek–like pillar, there was a room that wasn't really considered a room because windows replaced the walls.

now holding onto the pillar and inching slowly into the room, you winced as your ears rang for an unnaturally long time. there was only silence besides that but it was broken by the squeaking of your outfit. something else that accompanied you was the set fog engulfing the other end of the hall, like a cliche way of alluring the protagonist into certain death. your teeth gnawed on a dry leaf of skin until it tore and stung, the taste of blood getting prominent by the second until your senses were swept but the deathly smell of marijuana.

there was a glimpse of orange hair, you peeked around the corner and got another glimpse of some stilettos; the expensive looking ones with the skull at the tip, the ones the cousins from breaking bad had. it was nana's boyfriend, yangyang.. you cringed.

you kinda hated him, he was unbearably bad; a double entendre but leaning towards the troublemaker mean. he was deemed a qualifier for the criminal title; vandalism, battery, fraud, conspiracy, disorderly conduct, bribery, burglary, disturbing the peace, counterfeiting, forgery, extortion, public intoxication, theft, obstruction of justice and now drug possession.

you peaked in a little more since he didn't notice yet, he was cackling with someone; his fangs on display. also, there was a throaty laugh that weirdly familiarized with you.. peeking a bit more, there goes the leather boots.

drug possession with... hendery.

you should've gone to law school, but you weren't a nykaurian.. the nelvian's weren't really considered as citizens. they were just morsels of a real human— a nykaurian and there's some nelvian's that tried to over-achieve and go beyond, and just fell out. they were all coincidentally just horrible people in the end. every "rebel" ran away and their families; if they weren't wiped out from the extirpate, their relatives would deny ever knowing them and— before your thoughts could trail off further, there was a thud—yangyang had slid face first on the ground.

hendery giggled before taking another inhale of his badly rolled spliff, he bent down a bit to shake yangyang's shoulder but he didn't really budge; he was obviously still alive. “I didn't know you were that hungry–” hendery slurred the tease before looking up at you. his eyes were an ugly red at his waterline, the lights made the bags under his eyes– that you now noticed, stand out.

“hey! I knew you were there, I heard you..” his dog-tired eyes squinted at you as he pointed his finger at you, quite accusingly. his hand was shaking slightly from the adrenaline and drugs that ran through his system; he couldn't handle it.

“you're stupid to believe that–” he was still teasing but there was a hint of reality in his claim. you were going to retort but yangyang suddenly heaved whilst clutching his stomach. his hand clawed into his ugly velvet turquoise monstrosity of a tuxedo as he coughed before laughing again; hendery joined. but it was only for a moment until he went into a violent coughing fit—you could even feel your own throat becoming sore— and he rolled over onto his back.

you still stood in the doorway, hendery paid no mind to it– of course, he was fucking high. yangyang's eyes with wide with some sort of terror but the crinkle of the side of his eyes made you think that he found this amusing or thrilling..

his chest heaved and his throat constricted; your mind was between throwing up or suffocating on his own puke until he actually retched.

and when I say retched, I mean retched.

bits of whatever the fuck he ate jumped on his face and on his neck– you stood there like an idiot; petrified to the fucking core. hendery's laughter tantalized you. your feet wouldn't move, your hands clenched and unclenched like you wanted to do something but you wouldn't move.. you couldn't.

he was choking on his own puke.

“hendery–” you fell to your knees beside yangyang, simultaneously, anchoring his limp head on your shoulder. you tensed at the feeling of his warm vomit sliding down your shoulder.  he heaved and coughed, you stilled in fear that he'll do another round but his body relaxed to your relief. 

he wasn't as light as you thought, he was lanky but he was still heavy enough to make you hunch. from the corner of your eye, yangyang's mouth was agape; his jaw unhinged loosely. looking closely, you gagged. a dandelion–yellow froth pooled in his mouth practically threatening to overflow onto your suspender strap, again. it was already enough that you could feel the warmth of the remnants pressing into your back and sinking into the orange cotton with each step and the bits pressing onto your spandex flares. 

you heard moderate footsteps, coming behind you from the room and it had to be hendery. to taunt you or.. to help you– yes, to help you. 

the weight dispersed from your shoulders— not just yangyang but the guilt; both were passed on to hendery. his eyes were heavy with it but the high was still there absolutely. his steps echoed through the halls like loud thumps— like he wasn't trying to fall face first from the bass rattling the hardwood floor or was he on the brink of overdosing soon. 

hendery had that same comically dead look too— jaw unhinged, mouth agape, eyes droopy like a basset hound. what were they even given, for fucks sake? what if someone slid a bit of fentanyl into their shit because of a shit deal that yangyang made 3 years ago? what if hendery messed with the wrong girl or— 

THUMP—

hendery fell and there was an exasperating weight on your left shoulder then—

SPLAT–

hendery’s lanky body splayed on the other cream wall. his latter was face first again and you pulled him up and shit— you muttered and thought at the same time. it was splattered across his face and you nearly pondered about leaving them here everyone would care about yangyang but not hendery— nykaurian and nelve. but one was a downright nykaurian so would it be different? or would he get the benefit of the doubt, just for being rich.

this is what you get for trying to fit in again. last month, your bikini got sucked up by a vacuum and you cried. it wasn't worth crying for but finding your tube top, half hanging out of a rumba was pretty agitating for a naked hungover woman in a room with unconscious male strippers in officer get-ups. now, you were dragging almost 130 pounds with both arms. thankfully, everyone was down stairs or on the balcony doing whatever the fuck or maybe some are bouncing in a bubble like jaemin. 

it was awful. 

sitting between two boys like an idiot. 

yangyang was slumped to the side; you didn't want to even bother to move his feet, just in case he would go flat on his back again and die under your supervision. hendery's body swayed too much so now his head was in your lap and mid-thought, a ruddy hand slid up your leg. it was weirdly warm but nowhere near clammy, it was pale and for sure, hendery’s.

his head slid up to your shoulder and he murmured something incoherent against your neck before his eyes fluttered shut. obviously, you thought he fell asleep again because of how his head lowered and leaned towards your awkwardly sweaty collar bone; but he kissed it. his pecks were gradually placed along the skin, you were absolutely terrorized. 

“hendery, you're high..” you tried pushing him up by his forehead, your shoulder jutting inward with every moment his weight leaned on you. hendery looked up at you with childish delight, that fuckass glint in his red eyes and that usual quirk to the corner of his lips. 

“high enough to fuck.” hendery concluded in a slur and grabbed your calf, swinging your right leg over to his right side. it was absolutely embarrassing as he tried to hoist you to straddle him but it worked out in the end. goosebumps rose and lingered where hendery's hands did. “the jumpsuit,” he looked up at you, his eyes gleaming like you were gold but to a california gold rush miner's eyes. “romper.” you got him back for interrupting you earlier and he let out that same squeaky laugh and purred, “I don't care, I want it off.”

hypothetically, you couldn't take it off because if yangyang suddenly arose from the ‘high dead’ then you would be running out, naked like the bikini-rumba incident. you still had his dried sick on you so it'll be reasonable to do so. a pleasurable tremor spread through your loins, your core clenched; the pad of hendery's thumb had pressed onto your clothed clit. the friction of the latex and the nylon of your panties aided hendery as his thumb rolled lazily over the bud, there was a stirring but it wasn't enough to bring you the high you wanted.

“that look–” what look? “THAT look.” he repeated feebly, oh.. yeah. in an attempt to read his mind back, you couldn't. it was just fuzzy and it made your skin crawl with another row of goosebumps. your eyelashes fluttered back at him again and his heart soared to the ceiling.

“you're stunning..” his hands engulfed your face and you whined, not from the initial contact but because the thumb that was at your swelling bud was now joined with the other; uncomfortably massaging your own eye bags. 

yours were caused from the hours you had to work to design and create billboard and city display advertisements for nykaurian pretty parties, restaurants, plastic surgeries to switch the nel in ‘nelve’ to new; your stomach crawled since you couldn't cringe at the moment. but hendery's were more prominent, probably from the hours of smoking, drugs, taking a toll on him in his early twenties. 

“I don't only do drugs, babe.. you know me!” he whined playfully but his eyebrows had an offended furrow. “I only do the natural shit—cough–either way..” he slid your thick strap to the edge of your shoulder then popped it back, you hissed and giggled at the thrilling sting. 

“you'll love me either way, won't you?” a knowing grin slid onto his face and everything he said after that was blurred. his thumb slid past your gusset’s outline and compressed your clit before ministrating teasing—borderline—agonizing circles. hendery pressed his thumb against your lips; your whimpers muffled into hushed whines as you felt his large hand moved to knead your ass. 

“prettiest thing i've ever seen..” hendery murmured. his eyes locked, mesmerized by the wetness forming on your panties’ crotch. your body tensed once you heard the familiar struggling of a belt and the slide of the leather through his jean loops. 

the sensuality was there.. until the orange hairball shuffled.

yangyang had obviously fallen back to sleep once he continued snoring, his body half off the muted lawson. hendery’s eyes flicked between your startled expression and a bit at your swollen lips and yangyang who snored softly. he read your discomfort through your face and obviously, your mind. he tried to diffuse the situation, “make it a threesome?” he dared you, a wicked glint in his eye.

it surely didn’t calm you down because you swore that when he whispered those four words, your knees almost buckled. well, someone fresh from an almost- od wouldn’t be up for a threesome but do drugs and alcohol enhance your nerves enough to be up and ready for a threesome? what even made you contemplate that. you freak.

shaking your head, hendery shrugged. it didn’t matter if yangyang witnessed the ordeal or not, it wasn’t like he was his friend; just an acquaintance, someone to be there for the moment. taking your distraction to yangyang as an advantage, his hand slipped from your ass to his cold zipper. 

he wouldn’t miss this moment for the world.

“fuck,” hendery thought and said simultaneously, he pulled back your panties to glimpse at your wetness. he swore that all the blood rushed right to his cock because he wasn’t thinking straight at all- from the second he grasped the base of his throbbing-nearly-exploding cock and once he heard your tiny mewl as he watched your slick folds engulf his cock. 

hendery bit his lip. maybe to conceal a moan but it was definitely a cry, you were- just taking it so well. it was like you were fit and trained to accommodate his cock or something- words couldn’t describe how fucking amazing you felt. “shit shit- don’t move” hendery strangled out, his hands preparing to grip your hips if you even budged. you seemed befuddled, your pupils dilated as you acknowledged the fact that you had a fucking cock inside of you.

“oh, hendery..” your eyes rolled shut, your hands splayed and braced on his thighs. managing just to lift yourself up near the tip of his cock was even difficult and being met with a pair of hazy irises and reddened scleras didn’t provide you the reprieve you needed. your slick slipped down to his base like a waterfall; his own pre-release caked up within her folds. 

hendery brought his calloused hand to the back of your neck, his head tilting once you willingly caught yourselves into a fervent kiss. his right bicep tensed as hendery finally wrapped his palm around your hip, keeping a steady rhythm. dazed too, you laid your head in the crane of his neck; the soft hums, groans and breaths that he took nearly lulled you to slumber.

his face was screwed up, he was taking it too slow for his liking but it was enough for now. his limbs were weak– he was just tired of everything but there was nothing to really be tired of so it was frustrating that he was just spiraling out of control over nothing. he just hated not being able to find the key to his problems; just not being in control spited him. 

maybe you were the control he needed so bad. but his mind disagreed, he wanted to get you over with. his hand roamed up and down your side before finding refuge at your hip again to fasten the pace a bit, you obliged immediately. “you’re.. fuck–” he breathed, looking down at your folds swallowing his cock and popping out with a bit more of sheen. with your stiff thighs quaking with every roll of your hips, he knew that you were close.

with that, hendery’s thrusts quickened to the point where he was pounding into you. you were left utterly speechless, your jaw went slack and you couldn’t do anything but stare at him wide-eyed like a fool. “hen-” the stirring in your abs finally unfurled, your legs shaking sporadically. your series of moans muffled from you baring your dorsal with your teeth and coincidentally, yangyang stirred for longer than usual and while he did so, hendery had pulled you by your wrist.

“hendery!” you mouthed it but it turned into a groan once he pinched your inner thigh, that aggravating whimsical expression from earlier plastered on his face once again. suspiciously, yangyang’s body was fully faced towards you two; specifically towards you.

“you’re so scary.. great first impression, hmm?” hendery’s laugh nearly bordered into a guffaw and him fucking his seed into you, yet so slowly, kept you on edge of the slumbering male just a few inches from your intertwined bodies. after looking around for another distraction or just a comeback to his joke, you found it and conveyed the conversation towards the red stitched slogan on his shirt. “welcome to the darkside?” it was a meek whisper but it still held its intentional play in it. 

“that’s so fucking corny.”

“but it’s true, welcome to the darkside.”

“whatever.” you tsked with a snort and a smile graced your lips. you pulled yourself off his cock and sighed at the loss and ugly feeling of his cock missing; kinda like it belonged there.. weirdly. once you got situated, your legs draped over hendery’s thigh and your head laid on a cushion positioned on yangyang’s thigh. hendery patted your thigh between intervals weakly like he got the best fuck of his life himself. 

the high of the moment dissipated slowly as you stared at the tv. the static lulling you to sleep, with aid of hendery’s soft babbling about nothing. it didn’t matter, it felt like nothing mattered with him.

staring up at yangyang, his breathing had changed like he was mocking the slower pattern of a sleeping person. for a minute, you scrutinized him and his rhythm stayed the same but something in your gut told you that he was aware. and as expected, hendery was too much in his own thoughts to realize your discovery. 

giggling to yourself lightly, you muttered “yangyang..” with a sly smile that rose at the corner of your lips. the male’s thigh tensing under your head, giving you the signal that he was. “fuck.” you breathed and let out a throaty laugh, so he heard and maybe peeped a look at everything.. didn’t he? well, duh.

yangyang’s head bobbed in a silent chuckle and he bit back his amusement. with a small flutter of his eyelashes, you finally got a glimpse of his warm brown irises that actually filled you with mirth.

“gosh– fuck you, yang.”

[tillthelandslide]

Same For You: The Love of Thieves - Instagram AU

Series Warnings: slow burn romance, eventual smut, age gap, complicated relationship (low-key unhealthy dynamics), eventual love...

Series Masterlist

A/n: soooo you didn't think id make a whole series without doing Instagram AUs did you? Well here's the first one. Think this gives you a good idea of how the beginning of the series is going to go :) a little sneak peak into the chapters if you will... Hope you enjoy, love Lou 🫶🏼

Taglist: @scooby-doodoo @thereisaplaceintheheart @theoriginalwhatsername (if you want to be added please just drop me a message 🫶🏼)

yninstagram:

yninstagram might be small but at least our stage is pretty... Join us for our next show next Saturday ✌️

Like by clarabass, jamieoborne and 4381

View all comments

fan1 pretty stage for a pretty band

jaythedrummer ur so cool

clarabass we're just a cool band really aren't we?

↳ yninstagram that we are bby

🔔jamieoborne, trumanblack and rass1975 followed @yninstagram

fan2 the best band 🫶🏼

TheLoveOfThieves:

TheLoveOfThieves our very own Y/n on stage last week, join us again this week in Soho ✌️ in the mean time... Listen to us on SoundCloud - Clara

Liked by jamieoborne, bedforddanes75 and 12,183 others

View all comments

amazingabbie who's this sexy beast then?

↳ yninstagram I hate you

🔔jamieoborne and trumanblack shared this post to his story

75fan came from Mattys insta, you guys are sick

↳ TheLoveOfThieves thank you 😊

jamieoborne just say yes already

↳ yninstagram go away grandpa

↳ trumanblack leave her alone @jamieoborne

↳ yninstagram thanks Matthew ☺️

↳ trumanblack p.s you look very pretty in your element up there on that stage

↳ yninstagram you flatter me healy

yninstagram:

yninstagram your bf brought me a pretty guitar in my fave colour ✌️ jk jk don't go breaking up with your bfs guys

Likes by rass1975, trumanblack and 6518 others

View all comments

trumanblack cool guitar for a cool girl

↳ yninstagram why thank you ☺️

rass1975 pretty...

↳ yninstagram it is indeed

↳ rass1975 wasn't talking about the guitar

75fan I have no idea what's going on rn but damn... Why are the 75s friends so hot

75updates are the boys working with her?

1975stan um... Are we just going to ignore Ross' comment?

yninstagram:

yninstagram Exciting stuff on the way guys 👀 thank you to everyone who has joined us on this journey so far, we love you 🫶🏼 to the newbies: welcome 🤗 📸@rass1975

Liked by trumanblack, bedforddanes75, rass1975 and 8918 others

🔔trumanblack and jamieoborne shared to their stories

View all comments

trumanblack let's gooooo

↳ yninstagram oooo where we going?

↳ trumanblack you're so annoying

↳ yninstagram you love me don't lie

rass1975 very excited to be working with you love

↳ yninstagram bass lessons soon?

↳ rass1975 sure thing darling

1975adam heard you guys are smashing it

bedforddanes75 cool kid

jamieoborne dirty hits new addition?

↳ yninstagram not quite old man 😋

75fan she's so pretty...

fan1 ahhh Ross taking pictures of her?! Mattys comments on her other posts... I can't handle whatever the fuck this is ➡️❤️⚠️

TheLoveOfThieves:

TheLoveOfThieves we've been in the studio with some cool people for almost two weeks now... We will be returning to the Soho stage this Saturday so come by and say hello - Jay

Liked by rass1975, trumanblack, jamieoborne and 21,612 others

View all comments

📍 comment: TheLoveOfThieves there's nearly 21,000 of you following us now which is mental, thank you for all the support, we love you, watch this space, exciting things are coming. Massive thanks to our boys @the1975 for everything you've done over the past two weeks, it's an absolute pleasure to be working with you 🫶🏼 - Y/n

lovethievesfan we'll be there as always

↳ yninstagram see you there guys

clarabass exciting times...

75fan I'm so excited, you guys are so good and the boys are lucky to be working with you

trumanblack we shall be there, pleasure working with you too x

↳ 75fan lol Matty just replying to y/ns comment not actually the post caption hehehe he's down so hard

75stan I actually can't deal with how pretty she is like can she stop?

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Can you write a Ran x Fem reader, where he has to get out of bed to pick up drunk reader from a party?

P.s. I love how Ran is a sleepy head😭

I REALLY LOVE THIS

Sleepy Heads: Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: 533

tw: fluff, College AU

masterlist

The phone is ringing. The phone is ringing! The phone is--

Ran shoots out of his sleep, his eyes cracking open in the pitch dark to search for his phone. Your ringtone is playing somewhere underneath the sheets, the sounds of "Wannabe" by the Spice Girls filling his ears.

He finally finds the vibrating device underneath the blankets and swipes to answer without heistation.

"H-hey," Ran breathes, the sound of thumping bass and girls voices answering him.

"Ran!" you shout, your voice slurred and somewhat flirtier than usual. "Baby, how are you doing?"

"I was asleep," he replies, yawning loudly. "But I'm up now. What's going on, love?"

"I'm so wasted," you croon, then you giggle sharply. "Could you maybe... come get me from the Beta Rho house?"

"Uh, yeah," Ran mutters, looking at the clock on his nightstand. "just give me a few minutes."

Ran shuffles out of bed, letting you remain on the phone while he puts on his shoes, throws on a hoodie, grabs a spare, and fixes his braids before leaving his dorm.

"You said, Beta Rho?" Ran asks, walking down the sidewalk.

"Yeah, babe. It was a rager." Ran knows what "rager" is the code word for, which means you'll be drunker than most. Sleep is still biting at his heels when he arrives at the frat house, his finger pressing the doorbell slowly.

The door creaks open, and Ran is greeted by Mitsuya, who smiles at him tenderly.

"You here for y/n?" Mitsuya wonders, and Ran nods slowly. "Y/n, Ran's here!"

"Oh my gosh, thank you," you beam, exiting the house with wobbly steps. "You're the best, Mitsuya."

"Get some rest, y/n," Mitsuya urges you before giving Ran a quick salute and closing the door. Ran offers you his spare hoodie - it's cold - and wraps you up in it before holding you close.

"Going back to the Iota Kappa house," Ran mutters, and you shiver, snuggling into him for warmth.

"Cool," you reply. It doesn't take long for you to arrive back at Iota Kappa - it's only a block away - and when he opens the door, there's only silence to greet you.

"It's usually super loud over here," you notice, shuffling into the main room with curiosity. "Where is everyone?"

"Asleep or at the club," Ran answers, sitting you on the couch and taking your shoes off. "Do you want a shower?"

"Nah," you chuckle. "Don't think I'd make it out of there."

"Let's get you to bed, then." Ran takes you upstairs and pulls back the sheets before urging you to get as comfortable as you want. You take off almost all of your outerwear, dumping it on the floor, and take one of Ran's shirts out of his drawer.

"I'm gonna sleep in this." Ran shrugs, climbs into bed and waits patiently for you to join him. Only when you're in his arms does he hear, "Thanks for picking me up, babe."

"Of course," he replies, kissing your cheeks and pulling you close to him under the sheets. "I'll always come to get you and walk you home."

"Always?" you murmur drowsily, slipping off to sleep.

"Always. I promise."

[songdidi]

ఌ ℰ𝓋ℯ𝓇𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ℒℴ𝓋ℯ ☆彡

hiii!! this is my first post, i hope y’all enjoy it!!

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝖬𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂 𝖷 𝖸𝗎𝗇𝗁𝗈

𝗌𝗒𝗉𝗇𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗌: 𝖾𝗏���𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗄𝗉𝗈𝗉 𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝖼𝖾. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖬𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂’𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝖾, 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌, 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖺𝗅. 𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒, 𝖬𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂’𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽, 𝖸𝗎𝗇𝗁𝗈. . .

♥︎ 𝖸𝗎𝗇𝗁𝗈 ♥︎

𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾: 𝖩𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖸𝗎𝗇 𝖧𝗈

𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒: 𝖪𝗈𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗇

𝖺𝗀𝖾: 𝟤𝟪

𝗈𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇: 𝗄𝗉𝗈𝗉 𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅 (𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗓)

★ 𝖬𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂 ★

𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾: 𝖲𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖬𝗂𝗇 𝖦𝗂

𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒: 𝖪𝗈𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗇

𝖺𝗀𝖾: 𝟤𝟩

𝗈𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇: 𝗄𝗉𝗈𝗉 𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅 (𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗓)

A/N: thank you @palangsaeya on threads for giving me permission to write a fiction based off a little something they wrote!!

p.s: sorry if there are any spelling mistakes 😓😓

❦ 𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒 ❥

Mingi has been away from Yunho for a couple of years.

Finally the day came.

Mingi walked in the quiet corridors, trying to not run.

Finally, he came into the big hall.

No matter how many people there were, Yunho saw him right away.

He was singing on stage and having fun, but when he saw Mingi he stopped and just watched his beloved.

It had been only a few years, but finally the day came.

Yunho knew Mingi was back and now nothing would take him away from him ever again.

ღ ꧁꧂ ღ

Today was the day. The day where Mingi would reunite with his lover after two years of absence in the military.

Instead of meeting him at the airport, Mingi had decided to surprise Yunho at the stadium where him and his band mates were having a concert.

Mingi walked down the quiet corridors, the only sounds that could be heard were his footsteps and the clinging sounds of the colourful badges on his blazer.

Finally, he entered the big hall, starting to hear the faint sounds of their song Wave and the booming sounds of the bass and Atiny cheering.

He then entered the stadium.

It was breathtaking.

He had missed seeing such a sight.

All of the Lightinys shining bright, the fan chants and most importantly, the music.

He tried to hide himself near the front of the stage, getting ready to surprise his band mates.

Even a couple of Atinys spotted him, but he put a finger to his lips, signaling them to not alarm his band mates and possibly other Atinys.

He could tell how happy they were, the lights shining on them as he could see them crying and one of them holding a sign saying “we miss Mingi 🩷”

It made him happy that Atiny didn’t forget him during his absence.

Mingi finally stood up completely, being fully on display in his military suit.

He watched his band mates dancing, singing and having fun. Even going up to Atinys who were near the stage and holding their hands, giving them high fives or even taking selfies with them.

Even Mingi himself, couldn’t wait to get back on stage! Who cares about rest, he’d rather perform for Atiny and make them happy.

And then Mingi’s gaze fell onto Yunho.

Mingi felt his heart flutter.

His lover hadn’t changed one bit.

To his chestnut hair, to his big beautiful brown eyes, to his cute little nose, to his precious smile, everything about Yunho was still there.

Mingi even caught himself smiling.

He saw Yunho turn towards his direction, to go see other Atinys, but no matter how many people there were, Yunho saw him right away.

He’d recognise those sharp beautiful eyes anywhere.

Yunho couldn’t believe his eyes.

He couldn’t believe that his boyfriend was finally. . .home.

Yunho froze on the spot, just watching his beloved.

Mingi smiled contently, waving at his lover happily.

The elder covered his mouth with one hand, the other holding onto his microphone tightly.

The other members stopped what they were doing, and approached Yunho in confusion.

Even though they stopped, the music continued. Even the staff members were confused.

But once they saw Mingi they immediately understood and smiled.

Yunho felt streams of tears fall from his eyes, as his vision became blurry.

The other members noticed Mingi and froze as well.

Were they dreaming?

No, they weren’t!

Their princess Mingi, their tall shy giant was finally back!

San and Jongho burst into tears.

San fell to his knees as Jongho tried his best to wipe away his tears.

As for Hongjoong and Seonghwa, they covered they mouths just like Yunho. They couldn’t believe their eyes either.

Wooyoung and Yeosang were excited as hell! Their Mingi was back! They were ready to have a party!

Mingi smiled and walked up the steps that led to the stage and started making his way to the center.

He smiled at his other members and patted their shoulders, they all hugged him, San blabbering about being so happy to see his dongsaeng.

And then when he finally made it to Yunho, Mingi gently pulled his lover’s hand away from his mouth, which revealed his trembling lips.

The younger wiped away Yunho’s tears and observed Yunho’s face closely.

He had been dying to kiss those lips for the past two years.

Suddenly, Yunho pulled Mingi in for a tight, yet warm, hug. One that has been very much needed since these past two years.

The younger hugged his lover back, kissing Yunho’s shoulder and rubbing his back, as they rocked from side to side.

As for Atiny, they were really happy for the couple!

They were cheering them on and waving their Lightinys.

Mingi pulled away from the hug, as he held Yunho close to his chest.

“Look at you,” Mingi smiled. “Still as cute as ever”

Yunho blushed, “And you’re actually pretty sexy in this outfit” He chuckled.

“I knew you’d say that” Mingi laughed.

Yunho wrapped his slim arms around Mingi’s neck, “I missed you so much, I never stopped thinking about you”

“So did I” Mingi smiled softly, and closed the gap between him and his lover.

And at that moment, Yunho knew Mingi was back and now nothing would take him away from him ever again.

♥︎ 𝐅𝐈𝐍 ♥︎

[sputnik422]

aespa's SYNK: PARALELL LINE Solos: Review and Appreciation

Dear Reader,

On October 6th, 2024, it was announced that Korean girl group aespa would be releasing a special single comprised of the solo songs each member had debuted during their SYNK: PARALLEL LINE tour. It wouldn't be the first time that the girls dipped their toes into solo endeavors, as their previous tour also featured performances from each member accompanied by original songs. It would, however, be the first time that every single aespa solo had such a big impact on the wider K-pop fan sphere.

Let's just be honest here, these songs are infinitely better than their predecessors in every shape way and form. The upscale in quality was obvious from when the first fancams from the Seoul concerts began to drop. These songs are a different breed and in honor of their official release on all streaming platforms I wanted to take some time to talk about all of the reasons why I love them.

P.S: I don't know anything about musical genres, and I'm actually pretty bad at picking them apart, but I'll do my best for this post!

UP - KARINA

Starting off with the one I have the least things to say about. "Up" is a track that fuses old school hip-hop and R&B elements with electronic pop. It's a complete turn around from her last solo, "Menagerie", and its dark, psychedelic ambiance. It sounded as if you'd just entered the lair of the unbeatable final boss and they were monologuing to you before eating you for dinner. "Up" is dark too, but Karina's rich vocal tone and tasteful delivery elevate the song to a level of class above the former's brash exterior. Where her first solo was rough around the edges, the syllables of her rap being spat into your ears, Karina rides the waves created by Up's prominent bass and makes you want to hear more. Honestly its the best she's ever sounded.

The lyrics aren't anything revolutionary. Karina talks about how she's letting loose, not caring who stands in her way because she's going to get what she's owed. She's not the type to stand back and let the world have its way with her, Karina takes charge in her life. She knows that this confidence is attractive and urges the listener to come closer, being entranced by her. There's nobody else that could ever measure up to her and everyone knows it. The singer herself has been very vocal about how happy she was to be able to write this song and be apart of the development from the start and it shows. This track was tailor made for her. My favorite part about the entire experience is how the power of her deeper vocal tone gets to shine, taking me back to some of my favorite vocal moments from her (her part during the second pre-chorus of Drama, her chorus in Spicy). If I had to nitpick, and I will, I would say that the bridge doesn't really do anything for me. It kind of disrupts the flow of the song in my opinion. Other than that, it's a 10/10. A real testament to the strength of these tracks that something this good could end up as my least favorite. The performance, both her actual stages and the ARTi film, were cool as hell. Mob boss Karina, chef's kiss.

BORED! - NINGNING

Ningning is the member who had my favorite solo from their previous set. "Wake Up" is just as commanding as the title would have you think, with Ningning blatantly provoking the listener. It's a game of cat and mouse, the classic tale of a puppeteer and her craft. There's no use in trying to escape—she knows your every move and you will end up as her plaything—but she doesn't seem to hate the chase either. That fight, the sweaty face and thrashing heartbeat, it just makes the inevitable end so much more satisfying.

"Bored!" is very much in opposition to these themes. The lofi R&B instrumental serves as the backdrop for Ningning and her crazy situationship. In this song Ningning is someone who loves fast and loves strong, feeling drunk on the feeling of infatuation. There's just one problem and I'm sure you could guess from the title: Ningning tends to get bored. No matter how much she may love this person she's never truly going to fall for them, and she doesn't really want to. Just like this we've entered a similarly twisted yet way more lighthearted game. The lyrics lay this plot out for us with feather-light phrases like, "feel the caffeine kicking in / episodic visioning" and "paradise on venus in your eyes". That second line in particular caught my attention when I first heard the song and was even singled out in the behind the scenes recording video. My mind immediately went to the goddess Venus, otherwise known as Aphrodite, who is known for her short yet passionate bouts of love and lust. Perhaps Ningning feels similarly about the subject of the song. Lyrics like "I'm so pretty in your head boy" and "tell me where it goes out of my body / whisper "Pretty" in my head" make it clear that Ningning wants to indulge in their powerful mutual attraction while never intending to commit. It's just not in her nature. It could also be a way of saying that, whenever they're together, the love interest makes Ningning feel like she's on a different planet, floating along the milky way because of his love. Whatever the deal is, Ningning will take the attention and she'll easily hand over her own love too, but the listener can't expect her to stick around. Only until she gets bored.

I'm obsessed with her tone, the sweetness really compliments the lighthearted and playful vibe of the song. It makes everything feel so detached in a way, ungrounded just like the narrator's approach to relationships. I loved her first outfit for the actual performance, the white(?) shirt with 'Bored!' branded across the middle and sparkly black shorts. I hope she'll consider using more lighter colors and pastels in her outfits going forward, I think it fits the song and the concept better than her newer all black ensembles (outfit one, outfit two). The lighter colors make her look unassuming and innocent, heightening the sense of surprise when she turns out to be a bit of a player. Overall, another 10/10. Very well done, (Ning)²!

DOPAMINE - GISELLE

Giselle was the member who I was the most nervous to hear a second solo from. Call me dramatic, call me an over-exaggerator, but "2Hot4U" has to have been one of the most superficial songs ever conceived. Giselle curated an image as "aespa's hot girl" basically since debut and SM very much knew that. What they didn't seem to know however was that the image worked because of her distinctive style and aura, not because she physically had to tell you that she's hot for about three minutes and twenty six seconds. It feels like when a politician mentions a popular meme and suddenly its not cool anymore ("Pokemon GO TO THE POLLS!"). Giselle's line delivery is nasally, making her character feel like a petulant mean girl rubbing her rejection of you in with extra salt and lemon. The song wasn't good and it just didn't suit her at all.

So you can all imagine just how high I jumped for joy was when Dopamine ended up being a masterpiece.

"Dopamine" is a delicate pop R&B track that details a very similar situation to that of Ningning's "Bored!". Where the former has no intentions of committing to a relationship, messing with people as she sees fit, Giselle is very much in denial. She portrays herself as cold and detached "(I don't need a man, just accessories") meanwhile on the inside she is spiraling. HARD. Giselle knows that she's falling in love but she's been burned before and is afraid of being vulnerable with this person ("lock it up inside, I gotta hide the way I feel"). So, she keeps them at arms length, never letting them in and in turn never allowing them the chance to hurt her.

That first line in the chorus, "Be my little secret / Keep it hush hush, but I think I'm in love", it just hits. There's so much emotion rolled up in her delivery of the line combined with the narrative of the song as a whole. Giselle could very well tell this person how she feels, she could even cut them off and never see them again if that option is too hard (and from the look of the lyrics it would be). But still she stays, addicted to the rush of dopamine that she gets from every encounter. Since she can't or won't let herself have love, Giselle will take jewels, diamonds, anything to help fill the void created by her self-isolation, a void only made more prominent by the subject of the song. Its all just so toxic and tragic, the way she wants this man to be choking on his feelings the same way she is. How, deep inside, both parties know Giselle will never open up, yet they choose to act on their desires every time. That is, until the end.

The bridge into the outro itself is better than the entirety of her first solo. The music quiets down as Giselle talks to herself, only able to spill her true feelings when she's alone. She casts away her mask, admitting that her supposed heart of ice has been bleeding this entire time, that even the heavens know she needs this person in her life. She charges up this admission into a beautiful high note, allowing the incoming storm of synth to represent her emotions. Its that final seventy seconds or so, right after the 2:43 mark, that really makes this song for me. The art of the release, when everything falls into place and all of the feelings you've been holding so close to your chest burst from your body. "Dopamine" is gorgeous and mature and paints the picture of a fully realized human being. It's so much more suited to Giselle than the song SM gave her for their previous tour, and I mean gave in the most derogatory way. The subject matter is so real and you feel every drop of yearning in her vocal delivery. I'm glad she got the chance to work with the producers on this one and reinforce the fact that, when they allow her to carry out her vision, she's a very capable artist. The stage performance? Insane. I heard that the couch she used sold out after the first performances in Seoul, that's so hilarious to me.

I want to briefly mention the special version of it that she performed in Tokyo, which switches up the big release at the end for something more subdued and playful. The original outro goes full steam ahead to emotional catharsis while this one, with its very electronic alarm type noises and little metallic tinks, feels much gentler. Like maybe she's learned to be a bit kinder to herself, she's a work in progress after all.

10/10, tens all around. This song was initially tied for first place as my favorite but with the official release I think the scales have begun to shift.

SPARK - WINTER

I don't remember Winter's first solo. I know it was a ballad, and I'm pretty sure it was called "Lips", but that where my knowledge of the whole affair ends. In one of their behind the scene videos for this tour Winter went on to say this about her new solo song: "Last time I did a ballad but this time I wanted to show off more of my dance. I like dancing too, you know". Well, she got me with this one. Boy, did she ever get me! I did not see this triumph coming.

If "Bored!" represents cheeky self-serving apathy and "Dopamine" is self-sabotage, "Spark" is self-actualization and the honesty that comes along with it.

From the very first note of you're left waiting, wanting, anticipation building alongside the beat. Winter's lines are delivered in this airy and sort of crooning tone, it's such a change up from how deep and robust we know her voice can be. In this self written track she urges the subject to tune in to her wavelength, study her down to the very last molecule and accept access into her soul. Winter doesn't shy away from her desires, unafraid of seeming desperate or being too much. She embraces the intensity of this love, this connection with the song's subject, and is practically begging them to acknowledge what is going on. These feelings that have been born between them are about to bear fruit and she knows it. Its only a matter of encouraging the subject to let loose, coaxing them into the headspace where nothing else matters other than the goddess in front of them. Winter needs to push the subject to their limit, until the build up becomes too much and they have to either take action or suffocate on this tension.

They both know what they need and what it takes to get it.

"One little spark and you set me free / Now one becomes two".

I urge you, if there's any part of the song that you choose to blast on full volume, let it be the build up into the chorus. Once again the art of the build and release comes into play here. The song has been steadily building throughout the verse and pre-chorus but as soon as Winter sings, "Now one becomes two", cementing the union between herself and the song's subject, something magical happens. Those four words become an incantation, a spell to open a portal to a technicolor dimension. Winter pushes you in and as you're left to freefall the colorful tunnel begins to churn and collapse in on you. Infinite shades of pink, purple, blue, and blinding white strobe violently; entering your system, charging through your veins and building on top of the already unbearable attraction. The force reaches your eyes as they begin to project a rainbow, different colors flashing into place in time with the quickened beat.

Winter is in front of you again and, holding out a singular matchstick. You both know she can't light it by herself. What is one to do when placed on the precipice, where the stable ground behind symbolizes everything you've ever known while the open air out front symbolizes everything you have ever wanted. Perhaps this was destined, written in the stars. After all, when faced with the latter conditions, is it ever really a choice?

You light the match.

"Only takes one little spark / And we're igniting"

The portal spits you out above a kaleidoscope of a city. You soar, high on the sheer intensity of your connection, the joining of two souls within a space illuminated by a myriad of brilliant colors. "Spark" is an invitation to face your feelings, face your truth. Should you choose to take the risk you'll be swiftly rewarded, sucked into Winter's world and warmed by the eternal flame that burns between the both of you. The moment your souls meet, that critical turning point where one becomes two, there's no going back. It's just so alluring and intimate and sexy and ughhhhhhh.

The live performance is everything I could have ever wanted from Winter. She's always been such a sharp and powerful dancer, the elements of vogueing really suit her and the piece overall. When I saw this fancam of her for the first time I was gagged, speechless because of her beauty and stage presence. That opening sequence with the shadows cast on Winter and all of her dancers as they move as one machine, it's so coooooooool. Her initial outfit is lovely but for the debut of the special version she wore a lilac corset style top with detached puffy princess sleeves and this long veil with flowers sowed onto it, I wanted to die. The special version also plays with the chorus drop, adding in a long moment of silence before the second chorus in order to build even more anticipation. They power walk towards the back, Winter looks back toward the crowd but the lights go out. Cue the lights and the big reveal: the dancers have formed a blooming sun shape around Winter. She flicks a hand and the whole thing implodes, sending the dancers away as she basks in the moment, in her power.

I am not exaggerating when I say that I need this song engraved in the grooves of my brain. The studio recording pushed this one to the top of the rankings for me, I was not prepared for the religious experience I would be faced with when we hit the pre-chorus and beyond. The genre of synth pop has so much potential for conveying the most powerful of emotions, truly one of my favorites. I think this song is single-handedly helping me come to terms with the fact that I'm very much Winter biased, something I've been steadily ignoring since Drama Era. I BOUGHT A TICKET TO GO SEE THEM IN FEBRUARY SIMPLY SO I COULD SEE THIS (and Dopamine, and Drama, and a couple other songs) LIVE!!! I think I might actual perish that day, we'll just have to wait and see.

Glad SM was able to scrape together some brain cells, read the room and actually release these songs to the public. I'm gonna have a blast with these leading up to my concert date. Credit to JUST, Timing, Tsuki, and Jiunan for the pictures that I struggled to make a collage out of. I'm kind of bad with technology sometimes.

Cheers,

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[lightsofthe-living-gvf]

good morning! its wednesday, so you’re halfway through the week! yay!

i love pink lemonade! it was probably the first sam fic i read and i devoured it. so good. i don’t read a ton of sam fics, but here are a few sammy friends to lovers: something stupid like i love you by mountain-in-springtime, loverboy by allieisacrybaby, to be loved by you by sacredjake and skeptical by capturethechaos. the last one isn’t technically friends to lovers but it’s uber cute

question time!

love that you play the bass! that’s so cool! favorite song/artist to play??

own any vinyls? if so what’s your favorite one? if not, what’s one you want?

ideal date night?

when you order food, what’s your go-to drink?

most recent book/series you’ve read?

favorite book/series you’ve read?

until tomorrow!

☃️

p.s. i’ll find some danny fics in the meantime to recommend.

Oh anon bless your heart for the fic recs 💕

Okay answer time 😂

For the bass one, thank you thank you! I love to play Alice in Chains and Black Sabbath songs! I am also currently trying to learn more GVF basslines (I only really know Caravel) but I have such a hard time choosing because they’re all so good 😂

I do own a few vinyls!! My favorites change a lot but lately I’ve been loving The Singles 1969 - 1973 by the Carpenters (which I highly recommend if you’re into that type of old jazzy pop) and True Blue by Madonna.

I think my ideal date night would be like cooking dinner or baking something together and then watching a movie or listening to some music :)

My go to drink is usually water with lemon

I think the last book I read was ‘A Walk to Remember’ by Nicholas Sparks. It tore my heart out and threw it at the wall 😂 highly recommend

My favorite series lately has been ‘We Were Liars’ by E. Lockheart. It’s so good!

I hope you have a wonderful day! And out of curiosity is it snowy where you are? We’re basically up to our knees right now

[maximumcatpress]

Full Writeblr Intro

I've done an introduction post before, but I'll do this the official way.

My name is Scott, and I use he/him/his pronouns. I'm cis, het, white, middle-aged, bald, suburban, and I work in IT, which probably qualifies me as the least interesting person in the world. I'm an NPC, basically. I'm GenX, and try to convince myself daily that I'm still punk AF.

Books and WIPs

I published my first book, Her Violet Empire, in April of '22, and then unpublished it this year. Why? I'm relaunching it as The Duchess and the Accidental Thief this October, as Book 1 of the Her Violet Empire Series.

(p.s., that's totally not the cover. the actual cover hasn't been revealed yet, and it's amazing.)

TDATAT is a mystery/technothriller set in London, and takes place between 2014-16. It's about an IT nerd (wonder where I got that idea?) who's partially psychic; a husband and wife who own a locksmith's shop, but moonlight as cat burglars; and a mysterious and powerful woman known only as The Duchess. Despite being a mystery/thriller, it's lighthearted with some absurdist scenarios, a la Douglas Adams.

Book 2, which only has a working title right now, is my current WIP. I'm about 33k words into it with a target between 75-80k. Because of my ADHD (Inattentive), I try to limit myself to one WIP at a time. If I get ideas, I make notes, but I can't start writing anything or it all falls apart.

I've been writing for about 8 years, but until I published last year, it wasn't much more than a pastime. Some friends read my manuscript and said it was worth publishing, so I did. Then, randomly, I won an award for it. Go figure! :)

Other Interesting Facts

I got my college degree in Meteorology. Never did it professionally, but I still love to watch the storms roll through.

I play bass guitar, and did do it professionally for a little while. The glamorous rock 'n' roll lifestyle is for the lead guitarists and singers; we get to load out gear at the end of the night.

I've been vegetarian/pescetarian for 22 years, mostly for health reasons.

I picked up recreational ice hockey as a hobby in my thirties, and it's still one of the greatest thrills in my life. It's also one of the few sports where my height isn't a disadvantage.

Despite my lengthy career in IT, I'm still pretty miserable at social media, but I'm really trying to learn. Hopefully the Tumblrati can help me not suck at it.

Anyway, so that's me. Looking forward to meeting everyone!

[pyan-nor]

I hate it all.

I hate that whenever I was six-years old, my fate was decided. That my life, my path, was decided by the person I have been from six-years old to eighteen. I was plagued by academics, the traditional-system deeming me a failure, and not inverting it. How could common-core be the failure? It isn’t as if the school-system took a $200 million bribe from Steve Jobs to reinvent math. It an attempt to make me an astrophysicist, I go to night-school and get my GED. It isn’t their fault that my parents will never see their daughter, 140 IQ, walk-across a stage, with a cap and diploma. That I will be rejected from opportunity because I didn’t do meaningless assignments, that I didn’t do the made-up bullshit they told me I had to do. It doesn’t matter that I’ve read every classic, or that I’ve been bilingual for years. I’ve written essays about nothing, for no-one, for fun. I spent free-time researching the quickest ways to be worthwhile, the licenses I can get to have a successful life, but I’ll never be happy.

I work in capitalism, fast-fashion. I work because these 5.99 shirts are .05 cents to make. I work because I cannot rise against it. I will never be anything that isn’t capitalism. I have a fantasy, of being an academic. In the sense of the Academy, of Plato, the Lyceum of Aristotle. Doing nothing but learning, everything and anything. I could spend the sixty-years I have left, pouring through every-fucking-book ever written. I could write nothing of my own, be completely, wholeheartedly, insignificant and I would be happy because I got to live. I got to learn.

It isn’t Athens in 367BC. It is Florida, on January 10th, 2024. I sit in my bedroom that my father owns. I read Lolita and The Divine Comedy, both, opened and flat on my bed. I have fantasies of being famous, being a god-damn rockstar, but my bass-guitar sits abandoned in the corner, by the computer, where I’ve created an alternative-account to message my ex-boyfriend. We dated for a month. We’ve been broken up for three, and I hate him. I want him so, so much that it kills me and he doesn’t comprehend what true, obsessive love is. K says that ‘she’s weird’, and that he regrets it. I say that I love him, that I need him, and he denies, and blocks, and leaves. It feels as if God doesn’t want me to be happy. Isn’t my life ruined enough? Let me get what I want, please. Lord knows it would be the first time. It aches that he hates me, he said he doesn’t but I know he does.

It destroys me, like a rot. I will still save myself for him. I will stay alone, if it means I can have my husband back into my lithe arms one day. I will lay, alone in my bed and masturbate twice a day. I will hang out with my cat, and cry, and sob. Secondhand CDs on my shitty, broken stereo. I hate metal. I hate pop-punk. I hate Radiohead if I can’t enjoy it with you.

Another day as Pyan-Nor.

Just one of the many trials and tribulations.

(p.s. it’s pronounced Ph-yawn No-are)

[bowievanfleet]

wish you were sober [jake kiszka]

genre- angst, very light fluff

pairing- jake kiszka x gn!reader

summary- jake is your best friend, sort of. your drunken escapades are destroying you, blurring the thin line between lust and love. will you be able to put your foot down? {based on wish you were sober by conan gray}

warnings- alcohol, 420, light sexual content (nothing ever happens), kinda toxic relationship

lmk if i missed any warnings!! i know this one is a doozy

wc- 1.9k

a/n- i had a vision, so i did it >:)) this is prob gonna be a multipart thing (prob only like 2 parts) so enjoy! there might be some mistakes cuz i didnt proofread it lol

p.s.- the song i imagined for the slow dance is fade into you by mazzy star, but its not required for the story :)

PART 1

this party’s shit

wish we could dip

go anywhere but here

you grimaced as you walked into the house, the smell of pungent alcohol filling all your senses. there were lights of all colors dancing off the walls, and some 2000’s rap blaring from the speakers. you could feel the bass reverberating through your chest, and you didn’t know if you wanted to give into it or get away from it. at least the music’s decent, you thought to yourself.

jake could feel you tense beside him in reaction to the overwhelming environment, so he wrapped a hand around your waist. “you okay?” he whispered directly into your ear so you could hear him over the music, lips brushing the shell of it.

you looked up at him, “yeah, i’ll get used to it in a second.” you replied.

he gave a smile and nodded, walking towards the bar with you by his side, never taking his hand off your waist. you desperately wished he would, because just by that simple action, you knew where this night was going.

he made you and him a drink, and you began to mingle around the house together.

he had always handled his alcohol well, but that meant he drank much more than you, often getting carried away most of the time. that left you as the designated driver, so you only accepted about 2 drinks from him.

you were starting to feel the light buzz as you and jake screamed along to whatever song that was blasting through the house, and you had to admit, you were starting to have a really good time.

you and jake had somehow found your way outside, and you grimaced as he pulled out a pre-rolled joint. “don’t look at me like that,” he jested with a grin.

“you know i don’t like that shit, it smells weird.” you argued, resting your hands on the back porch railing.

he just shook his head with a grin at your antics, and proceeded to light the joint.

you two made playful banter like always as he took a couple hits, eventually putting it out to head back inside. he got himself another beer on the way back in, much to your dismay.

don’t take a hit

don’t kiss my lips

and please don’t drink more beer.

“this one’s for all the lovers!!” the DJ yelled obnoxiously, and a slower song replaced the pounding bass through the walls. you watched in slight jealousy as all the couples gravitated together and started swaying, not even really dancing, just a sea of slow movement.

you stood on the outskirts of the dance floor, slowly moving to the music until you felt two arms wrap around your waist.

you knew it was jake immediately after you felt it, almost like your mind had unwillingly memorized exactly how his touch felt.

suddenly, all of your senses were heightened. you could feel every brush of his hair against your neck and your collarbones, the light pressure of his chin hooked over your shoulder, the subtle movement of his thumbs that he rubbed in circles where his arms were placed.

“we should dance.”

it wasn’t a question, more like a statement.

if you had closed your eyes, and forgot where you were, you could almost imagine this as normal. jake as your boyfriend, the both of you in a healthy relationship. you two would kiss, and actually talk about it in the morning. you would fall asleep next to each other, and not wake up scrambling away from each other.

don’t do it! don't be stupid like you always are! your mind tried to scream, but it was useless. you always knew how it ended up with him, and no matter how much you tried to stop for the betterment of yourself, you could never do it. you could never look at his face and audibly say no, it was like a wall in your head that you couldn’t get over, an unspoken rule.

you hesitated to make yourself feel better, even though you already knew the answer as soon as you asked it.

you turned around in his arms, looping your arms around his neck lazily.

i’m already this far, you thought. what is there to lose?

“okay,” you agreed, a half smile on your face. he gave you a smile in return, the softest thing you’ve ever seen, and you thought for a second you might collapse into him until he started walking you backwards toward the dancefloor.

when you were finally there, in the center of all the people, he pulled you closer and started to sway along with the rhythm. as you stared at his face, you realized something was different about this moment. he wasn’t trying to make a move. his hands didn’t go any further than your waist, he wasn’t trying to start something.

you felt a spark of something ignite in you. hope, maybe? hope that, maybe this was the night that you got what you had wanted from him all along:

returned love.

he was looking at you with the softest look you had ever seen.

not a look of need, or lust, or desperation. if you thought about it hard enough, you could almost identify it as adoration.

he looked at you like you had put each of the stars in the sky, and hung the moon just for him. he looked at you like you were a goddess, a divine energy that wasn’t from this world, like he didn’t deserve to be in your presence.

slowly, so slow that you could see exactly what was happening as it did, he dragged his hand up from your waist, along your side and over your shoulder, ending his journey with his hand on your jaw, right where it meets your neck. you felt your faces gravitate even closer than they were, and as soon as your lips met, it was like a light switch had gone off in his brain.

he tugged your face closer, working into your mouth with a force you had never felt before, but you didn't have the power to say no to it. you had convinced yourself that it was better than nothing.

and so you reciprocated, you mind going blank for a few seconds as you ran your hands through his hair. all of a sudden the song changed back to the excruciating bass from earlier, and he finally slipped his hands down where you had expected him to. he gave a rough squeeze as he made his way down to your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on the expanse of it. he made his way up to your ear, “need you. so bad,” he whispered, and you finally heard the desperation that always got to you. he started walking you both toward the door, but not before getting another drink.

ripped jeans and a cup that you just downed

take me where the music ain't too loud

he stumbled out of the door with you, barely able to keep his lips off your neck, and you had to manually clear your brain a few times to distract yourself from the feeling of it long enough to open the car door.

he got in the passenger side of his car, and immediately your lips were together again, molded like pieces of a puzzle. you let your resolve slip for a second as you kissed back with equally as much force, and you forgot for a second what it is you were trying to do.

you weren’t going to let him have his way tonight, you were tired of it.

you were tired of pretending you didn’t care and you were tired of the drunken escapades that were never acknowledged. you knew he didn’t feel anything on the same level as you did, and you were exhausted to the point of tears because it was destroying you;

exhausted from pretending that you weren’t hurt when he never made a move to talk about what you had done the night before, and you were tired of kissing the alcohol instead of him.

kiss me in the seat of your rover,

real sweet but i wish you were sober.

…

trip down the road, walking you home

you kiss me at your door

you had barely made it to his door before he started up again, kissing you all over, his hands roaming every square inch of your body that he could reach. you weren’t blinded by it this time, and gently took his hands away from you. he pulled back with a look of confusion.

“what's wrong, is everything okay?” he asked, and you could tell the alcohol was slowly leaving him by how concerned he looked.

“jake, i can’t do this tonight.” you pleaded, trying to keep your voice firm but convincing at the same time.

he didn’t even question it.

as much as you hated jake for what he was doing to you, you knew he would stop the second you told him to, you just couldn’t find the power in you to want to stop. he was everything you’ve ever wanted and more, and if this was what you had to do to have him for a night, you would do it a million times over again.

but tonight, it was your breaking point. right now, you wanted to scream at him till your lungs gave out for making you so addicted to him.

“okay,” he said, not even questioning your motives for the rejection. “can you at least stay over though?” he said, pulling out his puppy dog eyes.

you might’ve brought up the courage to reject his advances for the night, but a night with him, platonically, was something you could never turn down, no matter how much you wanted to.

at the end of all of this, you were still best friends, and you hoped that at the very least, that would never change.

pulling me close

beg me “stay over”

but i’m over this rollercoaster

as you got into his house, the first thing you did was head to the kitchen to grab him some water. if you were planning to talk to him tonight, you definitely wanted him to sober up first.

as he plopped down on the couch, you brought the water over to him, shooting you a grateful smile as you grabbed a blanket and curled up on the other side of the couch, turning on some netflix for background noise.

you almost let out a laugh at him shifting around, trying to hide the obvious tent in his jeans so as to not make you uncomfortable.

honestly, you always let me down

and i know we're not just hanging out

before you could start talking, he suddenly looked over at you, giving you that damned soft look again, “i really like you y/n.” he slurred, a lopsided grin on his face. “i think you're really pretty, too.” he added, and you noted how he was getting to his soft and cuddly stage of drunkenness.

and before you knew it, before you got to say what you had prepared, you were in his arms, head rested on his chest and his arm slung around your shoulders.

you started to feel the weight of your emotions settle down into your body, and you were drifting off before you could oppose.

it can wait until tomorrow, you thought to yourself, and slipped into the blackness.