#this inspired me to start back on truth or dare noona

[taeyongdoyoung]

act three: i might kill my ex

summary: unable to sleep, you try to think of something that will finally free you from the demons of your past... characters: reader, heeseung, sunoo, sunghoon, jay, jake, jungwon (mentioned only) genre: thriller, dark romance(-ish) warnings: insomnia, trauma, prison visit, allusions to prison violence, threats, nightmares, guns, tattoos, illegal activities, breaking in, manipulation, toxic ex, cops, blood, murder (?), suicide (?), songs+scream movie references author's note: hello everyone! the title is inspired by the scream movies and this awesome song, once again this can be triggering for some so read at your own discretion! 💙 also, this is the final part of my scream trilogy, check out the other parts if you're interested: part one & part two word count: 3k

Another sleepless night. Even though Sunoo is in prison and you now live with Heeseung as his place is better protected from breaking and entering, the mere thought of Sunghoon roaming around freely is enough to make every second of your existence a living hell. You wish the cops would take your testimony more seriously but the lack of fingerprints works magically in his favour.

You feel like a burden to your boyfriend. You follow him around like a lovesick puppy everywhere - to his work, to the gym, to the supermarket. You don't dare leave his side for fear that the second you do, something bad will happen and Sunghoon will be back and take you again. You hate being like this. You ask Heeseung multiple times if he's really okay with you being clingy and he patiently answers each time that your well-being is the most important to him and that he seriously doesn't mind you being around him all the time.

But you do. So you try to take baby steps. The first one being something you've been planning to do for a while. And finally gathered the courage to do. Visit Sunoo in prison.

"Are you sure it's a good idea?" Heeseung asks cautiously, gripping your hands.

"I can do it. There will be guards and cameras and stuff, I will be safe," you promise.

"No, I'm aware you'll be physically safe but are you sure you're ready for this? I'm talking about the mental aspects of it..."

You nod, thinking about how lucky you are to have such a considerate, warm boyfriend.

"I think I'm ready. I don't wanna be your shadow all the time. I gotta learn how to be my own person again. I figured this was a good a place to start as any."

"You're very ambitious, but okay. You know I love it that you're next to me, right? I feel safer myself when I can see you," Heeseung murmurs reassuringly.

"I know, I know," you repeat, giving him a hug. "But I gotta do this for myself."

"I trust you," your sweet boyfriend replies.

This. This is why Heeseung will always be your choice. The fact he sticks by your side and trusts you unconditionally is something Sunghoon could never achieve.

When the hours for visitation arrive, you are all nerves. Gone is the confident you that was sooo sure she could do this by herself. But you have to be stronger. So, you face your former best friend.

"Hi, Sunnie," you greet him calmly.

"N-noona, you c-came to see me," Sunoo's eyes are watery with emotion and he looks a little battered. Oh God. You don't want to imagine how hard prison life is on him. He looks so pitiful and small. But then, you remind yourself of the reality. He betrayed you and helped Sunghoon kidnap you. He's just facing the consequences for his own actions. But still...You can't help but feel a surge of sympathy for him.

"Of course I came. You're my best friend, right?"

"I don't deserve to be your best friend," Sunoo shakes his head. Good. At least he's aware of it.

"You're right, you don't," you say coldly. "And I might be an idiot but I still don't. So I'll give you an offer. Ask for a retrial, tell the truth about Sunghoon, tell them he forced you to help him and you'll get a lower sentence. From five to three years. And I'll consider forgiving you."

"I can't do that, Y/Nnie," Sunoo shakes his head.

"He will never love you. I know it, you know it, we all know it."

"It's not about that anymore. If I tell on him, he's gonna kill me," Sunoo whispers, terrified.

"Did he threaten you?"

Sunoo nods, looking around as if to make sure no one else saw or heard.

"Fucking hell, Sunoo, then all the more reason for you to testify against him! So the cops will take action and capture him."

"Easy for you to say. He could send money to some of the prisoners and I could end up dying in here."

"Well, you might die in here but I might die out there, have you ever thought about that?" you exclaim angrily.

"He won't kill you."

"You can't know that," you strongly disagree. "Just think about it, okay? You might be saving two lives by telling the truth."

Sunoo sighs deeply.

"I'll sleep on it, alright. How have you been, though?"

"Oh, suddenly he cares! I'm holding up, I guess. I can't exactly erase the traumatic memories of being kidnapped by my best friend and my ex."

"I'm sorry. I mean it," Sunoo says sincerely. And maybe he really does mean it.

Because three days later you receive a call from the police that Sunoo has asked for a retrial and he testified against Sunghoon, telling the whole truth. Even with no fingerprints, his statement, along with yours, holds more power now. And the police will start investigating further and looking for Sunghoon. That's some progress, at least.

But it's not enough. You still have a hard time falling asleep. 2-3 hours per night tops. And whenever you do sleep, you are haunted by terrifying nightmares and traumatic memories. It can't go on like this. You need something more. Something to help you feel safe.

"I need to ask you for a huge favour," you talk to Heeseung one afternoon.

"Oh?"

"It's illegal," you mention the seriousness of it.

"OH?" Heeseung is in shock.

"I need you to help me get a gun."

"Babe, what? You're not gonna do anything stupid, right?"

"Stupid is my middle name. No, but seriously. I just think I'll feel safer if I have it. For like...potential self-defense. If you know who manages to get to me. If I happen to be alone."

Heeseung shakes his head fearfully.

"I don't want to leave you alone," he insists.

"You're not my babysitter, Hee. Sooner or later, it'll happen. And I just wanna be prepared. A precaution, nothing more. I'm not planning to actively look for him," the way you say the last word is full of bitterness and anger. "But if he comes, I'll be ready."

"Okay, um," Heeseung replies reluctantly. "I have this American friend. His name's Jay, he's a total sweetheart but he might be able to hook you up with a gun. You know, just for self-defense purposes."

"Sounds perfect. Thanks so much, Hee," you squeeze his hand, already looking forward to it. Maybe that will help you sleep better at night.

You meet Heeseung's friend Jay at a lowkey shady looking place that is a tattoo parlour. Jay himself has lots of tattoos of eagles and ravens and cats. Damn, you might consider getting a tattoo yourself one day. If you survive this shithole that has been the past few months.

"Nice to meet you," you shake his hand.

"Likewise," Jay responds firmly. "Heeseung talks about you like all the time."

"That's weird 'cause I only found out about you recently," you reply, honest to a fault.

"Ouch. I don't blame him, though. If my girlfriend was so beautiful, I wouldn't want her to meet any of my friends," Jay jokes.

"I'm flattered but uh-"

"Relax, sweetheart. I have a boyfriend. And even if I didn't, you're not my type."

"Point taken," you shake your head in amusement. "So, I can get the story behind the eagles but what's with the cats?" you ask curiously, pointing at his tattoos.

"They're meant to represent my love for my cat-like boyfriend Jungwon. He's a real cutie. I feel like you two would really get along. We should go on a double date sometime!"

"That's kinda weird but in an adorable way," you chuckle. "And I'm game for the double date thing."

"So, let's get down to business."

"To defeat the Huns?" you finish the thought.

Jay eyes you strangely. Okay, not a Mulan fan but has tons of cat tattoos. You can get past that.

"Hee told me you want a gun?"

"Um, yeah. As a precaution. For potential self-defense against my shitty ex who kidnapped me."

"Do you have any preference in mind? In terms of weight or design?"

"I don't know anything about that. Whatever you recommend is good. Just something that will help me sleep comfortably, I guess."

"I have a couple of options, I'll let you try them out. There's also a shooting range underneath the tattoo parlour. I'll show you a couple of tricks, just in case."

"That sounds amazing," you reply enthusiastically. "It's more than I could ask for. Seriously, thanks!"

"Anything for my friend's girlfriend," Jay shrugs as if it's not a big deal.

After trying out a couple of guns and Jay showing you the ropes of shooting, you feel more confident and pick the weapon that speaks to you the most.

"This one," you whisper, enthralled by how light and yet powerful it feels.

"Good choice," Jay hums approvingly. "Well, I hope this whole situation ends for you soon and stay safe."

"Thank you for everything."

"Don't forget about that double date!"

"I won't," you promise and you hope that happy day comes sooner rather than never.

Time passes and there is no trace of Sunghoon. As if he was a ghost you imagined. But you know better. You know he's out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right opportunity to strike. Let him come. You're ready now.

Heeseung receives an amazing job opportunity that would entail him going abroad for one week. You encourage him to take it. He's really worried about leaving you alone. But you know you can handle this.

"Are you sure?"

"Yep, I'll be fine, don't worry."

"What will you do if something bad happens?"

"I'll call you or your cop friend Jake or your lowkey sus friend Jay."

"Good girl," Heeseung praises you and kisses you gently. "And if your phone isn't nearby for some reason?"

"I'll use the gun only in self-defense."

"Right. Um, I love you, baby," Heeseung hugs you tightly.

"Love you too, Hee."

"Be back soon," he promises.

"You better," you smile.

Night comes and you are more uneasy than ever. You have been sleeping better lately with Heeseung by your side and the gun under your pillow. What has become of your life?

You make peace with the fact you probably won't get much sleep during the following week. It's okay. You'll get to sleep forever one day. But not today, Satan.

And then, speak of the devil, you hear it. A sound you know all too well. A door being attacked. But this time, he doesn't have a key. And uses something that is perhaps a bobby pin. He is slower. And you are fast. Your right hand is on your gun in no time and your left hand is on your phone. It might not even be him, but you don't care. Heeseung must be on the plane right now since he doesn't pick up so you call his cop friend Jake.

"Hi, Y/N, is everything okay?" he picks up immediately.

"Hi, Jake, someone is trying to enter Heeseung's place right now. I mean...our place."

"Oh my God, I'll assemble a squad and we're on our way! Don't do anything stupid!" Jake advises you. Heeseung might have told him you own a gun now. Oh well. You know Heeseung trusts Jake so you probably won't get in trouble with the police.

"I'll try," you chuckle and hang up. You send a quick text to Jay, informing him of the circumstances and just as you hit send, the door clicks.

He's in.

"Hi, princess," Sunghoon greets you. Oh, he looks so angry he hasn't seen you in ages. Good. Anger is good.

"Stay back," you warn him warily, pointing the gun at him.

"Aw, you're not happy to see me?" Sunghoon pouts in disappointment.

"You look like shit, Sunghoon," you hiss.

"Gee, thanks. You're as beautiful as ever," he compliments you.

"I know," you say even though you don't feel beautiful. You have dark circles under your eyes, your hair is greying from all the stress and your mental health has never been worse. But you're still here, fighting against all odds.

"Come back to me, Y/N," Sunghoon begs, straight to the point.

"Never," you shake your head with determination, tears clouding your vision. Fuck, you hate that you still get so emotional when facing him. It's a weakness that might be your downfall. But you won't let it.

"Were you pretending when you said you can learn to love me again?"

"I could never love you," you admit honestly. "And neither can you."

"N-no, that's not true," Sunghoon argues. "Just come with me, please. No one has to get hurt. Not Heeseung, not Sunoo. Just us two and everyone you care about will be safe."

Heeseung's on a plane right now. Sunoo's in prison. As much as your heart is telling you that Sunghoon could really hurt them, your mind is aware that he no longer has any power. The power is in your hands right now. Jake and the cops are on their way. But they'll be too slow.

"Well, that's too bad, 'cause I only ever cared about myself," you smirk coldly.

"You don't. You're full of love and light and warmth," Sunghoon insists blindly.

"Not anymore. You took them from me. I'd ask you to give them back but I don't think you can," you say openly. You don't even believe half of what you're saying. But that doesn't matter. You just have to make him believe it.

Sunghoon pulls out his own gun, pointing it at you. A mirror image. Did you make him worse? Or did he make you worse? You don't know. And you no longer care.

"Well, if I can't have you, no one will," Sunghoon glares at you.

"Not in my movie!" you scream.

You genuinely cannot tell who fires the gun first.

You can only hope it's you.

The End

author's note: if you like open endings, you may stop reading here. if you don't like them and are not satisfied with the uncertainty, keep reading for three possible endings i have in my head 🖤

Ending One: I hope you die first

Your whole body is shaking and your hands are covered in blood.

It's over. Sunghoon's dead. You really killed him. You can't believe it.

As you hear the police sirens surrounding you, you suddenly feel dizzy.

When the time for a trial comes, the court rules it was in self-defense. Considering how Sunghoon stalked and kidnapped you, the law is lenient towards you and you get away with a fine for owning an illegal gun. Well, having a cop friend also helps.

You spend the rest of your days surrounded by people you care about. Heeseung is always by your side, supporting you through everything. You can't imagine making it this far without him. And Sunoo serves his three years in prison. Once he's out of jail, he makes it his mission to make you forgive him. Slowly, he creeps back into your life. And you let him. Somehow time has eased the hurt from the betrayal.

There are happy moments, there are sad moments and then there are the moments when you just feel empty.

But the guilt and pain stay with you. Your forever companions. Sure, you are free from Sunghoon. But you can never be free from yourself.

Ending Two: I See Red

Sunghoon drops on his knees the moment he realizes what he's done. Fuck. You're gone. He killed you. The one and only being he truly loved. Or deluded himself into thinking he loves you. Perhaps you were right. Perhaps he wasn't even capable of it.

With no reason left to go on, he points the gun at himself, pulling the trigger. Maybe in another life, he'll do better. Maybe you'll meet again.

The cops and Jake at the crime scene they're immediately struck by the sight of the two bodies. Sunghoon's hand is reaching towards yours but your face is turned to the other direction. Even in death, you don't want to look at him. Alas, they came too late.

When Heeseung learns of your death, he is completely devastated and heartbroken. Miles and miles away, he cannot even get to your funeral on time. At first, he contemplates doing what your ex did to himself. But he knows you wouldn't want that from him.

So, he spends the rest of his life trying to help victims of abuse or kidnappings, aiding the police whatever way he can and organizing therapy sessions. It's not much, but he'd like to believe he's making a difference.

As time passes, the pain is still there, but diminishes in magnitude. Heeseung eventually finds comfort and love in the arms of his friend Jake. But a part of his heart stays there with you, in that cursed night.

Ending Three: Scream cause we wanna go faster

Both guns fire at roughly the same time. Both you and Sunghoon apparently suck at aiming them. You manage to injure each other, but nothing lethal. Seconds later, the police arrive, apprehending Sunghoon. The medics show up soon after and take care of you.

Sunghoon gets a life sentence for stalking, kidnapping and attempted murder. You don't visit him. Not even once. You don't want to see him, not even to gloat. That chapter of your book is over. Your only wish is to put it behind you for good.

Heeseung finds out about what happened right as his plane lands and he wants to return as soon as possible but you tell him to finish his work and then come back to you. Now, you will have all the time in the world.

"Welcome back, Hee," you greet him at the airport once he returns.

"My God, darling, I'm so glad you're okay," your boyfriend hugs you tightly, not wanting to let go ever again.

"Of course, I'm okay. I promised Jay we'd go on a double date with him and Jungwon, didn't I? And I always keep my promises," you tease.

"Damn right, you do," Heeseung laughs. "But seriously, just thinking about what might have happened, I feel sick."

"Well, let's just be glad it didn't," you kiss him deeply.

In another universe, maybe you're dead. In a different world, maybe Sunghoon died.

But this is your world. Your movie. And you just pressed play.

The End (for real this time)

[cutesilyo]

if music be the food of love (play on) — a fruk fanfic

But he wasn't France right now, not in the soft morning light of Calais. Far from the bustling city life of Paris and his obligations as a nation, he was only a young man in love.

A day in the life of Francis Bonnefoy, featuring his piano and his soppy affection for Arthur Kirkland. Domestic fluff.

Also available on AO3 and FF.net

---

Arthur was used to living alone, so Francis often found his lover singing to himself.

To lead a better life I need my love to be here, he heard from the garden. Arthur had always sung his most tender when he was taking care of the roses, he knew; he'd wax poetic over any flower, of course, but he could go on for hours and hours about the one he loved most.

He could see Arthur through the windows, meticulously inspecting each and every bloom for the slightest hints of tear. He was wearing one of those ridiculously huge gardening hats that, at this angle, was covering most of his face. Together with horrible posture and his frumpy sweater, he cut quite the awkward figure. Yet still, Francis could picture his piercing green eyes, the slight flush of his face, that odd little upturn of his too-long mouth during those rare times that he felt relaxed and at peace.

They've had more than a millennia to get acquainted with each other, more than long enough for them to recognize the things that stayed constant: bright eyes, sorrow, and the empty promises of immortality; England and France fighting with each other, and Arthur and Francis simply having to live through it. There was a loneliness there that he couldn't put into words, not on his own.

Each one believing that love never dies, Arthur sang. Each note hung in the air a little too long.

Expecting him to come in soon, Francis quickly boiled a kettle for the Englishman's morning tea before leaving the kitchen. He could spend the whole morning looking through the windows, but the ambience demanded he partake a more active role than just sitting around. He was the country of love, after all. And today, he was so full of that confusing, exhilarating emotion that he simply had to do something about it.

He scarcely used it these days, but he certainly hadn't lost any of his skill with the piano. Playing some scales for warm-up, he let himself get re-acquainted with an old friend. It was not too long ago that his musicians were praised worldwide, not too long ago that those same legendary maestros had been invited into his own home and asked to play. Those memories shine golden to him, lazy afternoons of nothing but song and delight and knowing with all the instinct of a nation that these men were going to be remembered one day. He carried them, and their music, with him always.

Francis was lost in the melodious trills of one of their century-old songs when Arthur entered, with his tea and a small plate of the biscuits they had made the night before. He settled into a nice sofa chair beside him with a contented sigh.

"No need to stop on my account," said Arthur, when the piece ended and Francis didn't immediately transition to another one. "Are you taking requests? You know I don't know shit about the classics."

"Yes, you're very artful like that," Francis teased. "Truth be told, you're distracting me."

Arthur huffed, and it was the exact reaction Francis wanted to see from him. He looked adorable with cheeks puffed like that. "Well, if you're going to be like that, I could stop paying for my half of this house and leave. Maybe invest in something actually worthwhile."

"Invest in some sense then, would you? You're being ridiculous and dramatic."

"This, coming from you?"

"I have a certain style of doing such that makes me charming and irresistible, but when you do it, you are like a pitiful donkey."

He thought he really had a good one there, but Arthur only looked faintly amused. "You're losing your touch, if that's all you could think of."

Francis smiled back. "If I lack any bite today, it's not any fault of mine. You are a distraction, like I said."

The other man rolled his eyes. "Oh, of course it's my fault, is it?"

And it was.

He loved seeing Arthur anywhere, but he especially loved seeing Arthur here, in this house that they had quietly bought together without the interference of their respective governments. He loved seeing Arthur now, in this time of peace and normalcy that they had never been given in their youth. He loved seeing Arthur like this, warm and content and alive and close enough to hold without fear, without anger, without hate. It was always a game of play-pretend when they stayed here, and Francis was enamored with domestic bliss every single time. The intimacy, the privacy, the romance — how could he possibly pay attention to anything else but Arthur in this moment? They were not nations here, in their sleepy, cozy abode in Calais. They were only Arthur and Francis, and they were in love.

"You will be less of a distraction if you sit with me," Francis said, instead of I am so much happier now that you are here.

He patted the space beside him, watching Arthur set his cup and biscuits down as he took his seat. Francis turned back to the piano to take position, while Arthur shifted closer so he could lean his head on his shoulder. It made movement a bit more difficult, and he knew that Arthur knew this. The both of them also knew that Francis wouldn't tell Arthur to move away for the world.

"You're always making things so hard for me, aren't you?" he said, affectionately.

"The course of true love never did run smooth, as they say," quipped Arthur. "And you knew I was a handful when you met me. It's not my fault you have bad judgment."

"You must think so lowly of the both of us to say that. My judgment, along with everything else about me, is impeccable." Francis started playing a light ditty, just to give his hands something to do. "And you are the light of my life, fire of my loins—"

"Your sin, your soul?" Arthur finished, dryly. He looked up at him in vague annoyance. "Francis, please. You can do better than that."

"Aussi longtemps que tu voudras, nous dormirons ensemble," he recited, then he laughed when Arthur lightly slapped his arm. "No, you cannot be angry at me for it! It's a line from one of my respected poets, it's not my fault that he phrased it like that—lapin, it was an easy shot to take. I do not know what you expected of me."

"Certainly not bad, perverted poetry," grumbled Arthur. He stared at the ivory keys, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "You know, if you wanted me to play with you, I should've brought my guitar. I can never remember where my fingers are supposed to be on this thing."

"You and your guitars!" The piano made a dissonant noise as Francis slammed his hands on it in surprise, barely holding back his helplessly, helplessly besotted grin. "No, my love. You would've had to go upstairs, discover it has been misplaced, and then spend hours searching for it. You would've surely placed a curse on the entire house for hiding your beloved instrument before you remembered that it was still back in London. By that point, I would've retired to our bedroom, long past the mood for musicmaking."

Arthur's ears were flushed red.

Recognizing his lover's embarrassment, Francis reached out, held his face by the cheek, and gently guided Arthur into looking at him. "But I am still here, yes? Stay with me, Arthur. Sing with me."

He would never tell him this, of course, but he had grown strangely fond of the Englishman's nasal, sardonic voice over the years. Harsh as though it sounded when it was used for his constant, indignant screaming, in the quieter moments it was rhythmic, melodic — as though he never grew out of Shakespeare's characteristic rhyming scheme. It was one out of the many proofs Francis had collected to support his theory of Arthur being a closet romantic at heart, and it was by far his favorite.

Who could dare think of his little England, savage little bunny that he was, the feisty, imperious island nation who grew up shooting arrows and sailing the seas and conquering the world's hegemony in the palm of his hand, doing something as humanly mundane as song? Certainly not France, who had spent centuries at war with his neighbor and still sniped at him countlessly at every single meeting they attended together.

But he wasn't France right now, not in the soft morning light of Calais. Far from the bustling city life of Paris and his obligations as a nation, he was only a young man in love.

Arthur's eyes were so wide, and so green. It felt like eternity before he covered Francis' hand with his own.

Then, softly: "Play me a nice song then, would you, dear?"

Francis only smiled, and set his hands to the keys.

---

Notes:

Title comes from Shakespeare's Twelfth Night.

The song Arthur keeps singing at the start is The Beatles' Here, There, and Everywhere, which is a sweet and short tune about wanting to be around your lover all the time because it makes you so happy. Paul McCartney wrote it while he was waiting for John Lennon to wake up, which is very sweet in a way. I was going to make Francis play it at the end, but I couldn't figure out how to write it in, so now it's up to you! I really love Sangah Noona's piano cover of the song, so if you have the time, I really recommend you give it a listen. It's so classy.

The piano song that Francis is playing when Arthur walks in is Jeux d'eau, a 1901 piece by French composer Maurice Ravel. It often gets translated into English as Playing Water, and it's inspired by the sound of (you guessed it) water! I feel like the piece reminds Francis of Arthur a lot.

The course of true love never did run smooth is another Shakespeare quote, this time from A Midsummer Night's Dream. I originally wanted Arthur to say something like: "Well, that's why the Bard titled it Love's Labour's Lost," after another Shakespeare play, meaning that love is something difficult so Francis will just have to put up with him, but I couldn't find a way to make it flow smoothly. So I went with the quote instead, because it's simpler and its intention is the same, and I like it better! I like that Arthur implies that Francis is his true love. Aww.

Light of my life, fire of my loins; my sin, my soul is from the opening lines of Lolita. Yeah, you can see why Arthur was a bit disturbed. Fun fact: Lolita was first published in Paris!

Aussi longtemps que tu voudras, nous dormirons ensemble is the last line of French poet Louis Aragon's Nous dormirons ensemble. It translates to As long as you want, we will sleep together. It's a short (and yes, slightly perverted) poem, but it's actually pretty sweet.

[honeymoonjin]

WTLTLD part two - jimin x reader

Read the first part to Would You Like to Live Deliciously? here. Part two: when Jimin accidentally fucks up and ticks an invite to his friend’s hangout as ‘plus one’, he freaks out and contacts the only girl he knows - you, a succubus whom he had previously summoned to take his virginity. Unfortunately for you, blending in as a human girlfriend will be difficult when his friend group consists of some familiar faces. Mentions of sexual content but nothing explicit. 2.9k words. This will have more parts to come! Please let me know what you think!

--

“Just call her, dude.”

Jimin huffs in irritation. “It’s not like it’s some random girl, Jungkook. She’s a fucking sex demon. Besides, I don’t want to bother her.” He focuses stubbornly on the road ahead as he holds on to the steering wheel a little tighter.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Jungkook narrow his eyes at Jimin and pout. “It’s not fair,” he whines, “I was the one that found the incantation in the first place. If you’re too pussy to call her again, then I should be allowed to!”

He exits off the highway with a harsher turn than is probably necessary. “I’m not a pussy, Jungkook. And you can get your own sex demon. No one’s stopping you.”

Judging by the toothy grin he’s being sent, that was the wrong thing to say. “Ooh, Jimin’s jealous! Jimin likes her! Whatever, dude. I told you yesterday; if you don’t call her when we get there, I will.”

The two of them were headed to a weekend hangout at their mutual friend Hoseok’s beach house. It had been a couple years since the last of them had graduated high school, and most of the others had moved away even before then. Their group of seven which had remained unbreakable, even over the distance, was finally reuniting in person, and the two in the car couldn’t have been more excited.

There was only one issue. Jimin had fucked up and accidentally hit the plus-one on the electronic invites Namjoon had made, and he was too proud to admit it was a mistake, so now an entire false narrative had been created around Jimin apparently having a girlfriend, and the only girl he had really spoken to and was comfortable with was, ironically, a succubus that he literally summoned from the depths of hell.

“I’ll call her,” he finally admits in resignation, “I made sure to pack the salt, I just… What can I possibly offer her, Gukie? There’s no reason for her to say yes.”

Jungkook falls into contemplative silence for a few moments, clutching at his seatbelt where it sometimes dug into the skin of his neck. “You know,” he says slowly in an odd tone, “I reckon I have an idea.”

Jimin takes the opportunity of a red stoplight to twist and stare at Jungkook, the younger boy’s eyebrows knitted in thought, nodding slowly. “What is it?”

“Okay, bear with me,” he starts, protesting when Jimin sighs. No doubt it would be another one of his hairbrained schemes. “Hey! Seriously, hear me out! Y/n wants sex, right? And obviously, last time you were more than happy to offer your dick up, so she probably won’t want to do all this work for something she’s already had before-” Jimin rolls his eyes, starting forward jerkily when the light turns green again, “bu-ut, maybe if you throw in a little extra she’d be willing to work for it.” Jungkook stays quiet with a big smile on his face, expectant.

Jimin groans. “Wow, so that whole spiel was just so that I’d let you fuck her, huh?”

“No! Well, yes… What I’m saying is, all you gotta do is sweeten the pot, buddy. Think about it- we’re going to be spending a whole long weekend with five other dudes. I was FaceTiming Namjoon the other day and he mentioned about how jealous the other guys were of you having a girlfriend, because they’re all single.”

Jimin frowned. “I thought Yoongi had a girlfriend.”

“Are you kidding? They broke up ages ago. I’m thinking you plus six other horny boys is a pretty great bargaining chip.”

A great sigh leaves Jimin’s nostrils as the car pulls onto a residential street running parallel to the street. “So, you’re telling me I should tell everyone Y/n is my girlfriend and then also get them to have sex with her? They’re not going to take part in that, because for them, it’d be cheating.”

“I’m not an idiot, hyung. Tell them you’re in an open relationship, because the little minx has a raging sexual appetite and your chili pepper dick can’t keep up.”

“Fuck off,” Jimin snaps reflexively, but his mind is already whirring.

--

“You seem grouchy,” Namjoon teases as the two of you sit in the bed of his truck at the old train station crossroads half an hour out of the main city.

Your frown deepens, and you take another swig from the glass bottle of vodka dangling limply in your hand. Demons couldn’t get drunk, but you very much enjoyed the burning sensation of high percentage alcohols. “No shit.” You sigh, letting your legs swing off the edge aimlessly. “I got summoned for the first time in, like, forever. And then he acts like he’s all smitten, and his friend was there, and I was hoping they’d summon me again. I could do with a regular fix, you know. But nothing.” You laugh bitterly. “Fuck, it’s stupid. I shouldn’t have given them my name.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen. “You what? Y/n, why would you risk it? If they found the resources to summon you, they could easily…” He breaks off with a sigh. “I hope for your sake they’ve just forgotten about you or moved on from seeking out the company of kind like us.”

You hum noncommittedly. “Anyway. I was thinking you and I should go downtown and spend some of those souls of yours this weekend. Splurge a little.”

He laughs incredulously, dimple deepening as his eyes stay locked on the slowly setting sun. “Oh, so you have one bad day and now you want to use my hard-earned souls for a little retail therapy? I see how it is.” He nudges your shoulder, but then drops the smile. “No can do, sorry. I have plans.”

You place the bottle on the metal bed of the truck. “Plans? Since when do us demons plan anything?”

He shrugs. “It’s… a thing. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back on Monday; we can go then. Deal?”

“Sure, whatever.” You huff and lean back, staring up at the deep orange wash of the sunset as it blends into navy. “You and I never hang out anymore. Not since…”

“Y/n,” Namjoon warns, voice a little more distant now that you’re lying down, “it’s not that I’m avoiding you, because I’m not. I just think there’s no point in being so bitter towards him anymore. He didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just how he is.”

You scoff and kick one leg out into the air petulantly. “Why is everyone on his side all the time? He walked out before I could even get any closure. He didn’t leave a message, nothing. How is he the victim here?”

Namjoon sighs patiently, turning around to face you, leaning over and blocking the last warm rays of the sun. “Need I remind you that you broke up with him? He’s still not over you, Y/n.”

You sit up suddenly, and Namjoon has to jump back to avoid your heads colliding. “Min Yoongi can go suck a dick. He didn’t have to be an asshole and leave like he did, even if he knew what I was going to do. It’s just cruel.”

Namjoon tilts his head to the side. “Y/n,” the crossroads demon begins slowly, “have you really never considered that he left like that because he couldn’t bear to face you and deal with the goodbye?”

Your face falls solemn for a moment, eyes distant, before you shake your head roughly and get up off the truck, landing heavily on the dirt. “It doesn’t matter either way,” you spit, “I’m never going to have to see him ever again, so he can find some succubus pussy elsewhere if he’s that hung up on it. Goodbye, Namjoon.”

“Y/n, I wasn’t trying to upset you, I just-”

His voice is abruptly muffled as you depart from the earthly plane and return home to your silent, cold apartment.

--

You wouldn’t dare admit it to anyone, but later that night when you feel that tug in your chest and the telltale tingling in your extremities that signifies you’re being summoned, you happily drop everything and stand up in anticipation. Finally.

Quickly schooling your expression into something a little more neutral, your heart races as your new surroundings materialize in front of you. It’s a cold, dank room, with a naked light bulb dangling from the ceiling. To your right is a bay with a washing machine and a dryer, to your right lies a metal rack with wet clothes strung over it. And in front of you, dinner.

“Mortals,” you recite slowly, hoping your smile comes off as sly rather than genuinely happy, “for what purpose have you summoned me?”

Jimin, who’s back in his childish clothes – this time a thin white sweater and pink skinny jeans – flinches at the burst of hellfire and waves sheepishly, but the younger just grins widely. “You can drop the formalities, noona,” he gushes, “we’re like friends now.”

You roll your eyes, though the comment inspires a muted bloom of joy within you. “Why am I here?”

Jungkook grins and leans back to stare down at his friend wordlessly. Jimin rubs the back of his neck and laughs awkwardly. “The thing is, uh… I kind of told my friends I had a girlfriend. A-And I don’t. So, I was wondering if you might, uh, pretend to be my girlfriend?”

You blink at him, eyes narrowing slowly. Any spark of excitement at the thought of feeding well again is snuffed out. “Excuse me? Why would I do that?”

The older boy helplessly shrugs with a pained expression, so Jungkook takes over. “Here’s the deal. Jimin needs a hot chick to show off to his friends; you’re a hot chick. You’re a demon from hell who needs to fuck for survival – huge fan, by the way – and we have seven people in our friend group who would love to assist in your plight, I’m sure. We’ll tell them you and Jimin are allowed to have sex with other people, and you can have your pick. Quid pro quo.” Proud of himself, Jungkook nods once decisively and falls silent.

You glance over to Jimin. “He’s telling the truth? You believe I’ll be able to feed well here?” Realistically, you should just say no and return to hell, or perhaps somewhere else on Earth for a midnight snack, but an offer like this had never come around for you before, and it’s not like you were going to do anything this weekend anyway. Jimin nods cautiously, and you sigh in resignation. “How long do I have to pretend? I do not know anything about mortal relationships, so I cannot guarantee I will be very convincing.”

“It’s easy,” Jungkook blurts in passionately, “all you have to do is be touchy feely, compliment Jimin, and always agree with him. Those are the three pillars to perfect PDA.”

“One weekend,” Jimin clarifies gratefully, “just until Monday morning when everyone heads back. I can, I don’t know, tell them in like a month from now that we broke up. Thank you so much, Y/n.”

“Also!” Jungkook very nearly yells, and you cringe at the way it fills the small room. “Also, human girlfriends always wear sexy clothes. You know, tight dresses, short skirts, low-cut tops. Hoseokie-hyung has a pool, so you should get a bikini too.”

You glance down at what you’re wearing. Clothes were normally unimportant to you unless you were on the hunt, so you had been spending the evening in your apartment wearing a loose tee and some sweatpants. In your experience ‘sexy’ varied from person to person, and so it seemed the younger boy found showing skin to be attractive. “I’m not your girlfriend,” you answer simply, “so it is irrelevant to me what you think of my attire. Jimin,” you focus your gaze on him, “what do you want me to wear?”

“Uhh…” For a moment, you wait and stare at the way his mouth drops open and his eyes widen in thought. Beside him, Jungkook is mouthing something you’re pretty sure is ‘lingerie, lingerie’ but Jimin doesn’t pay him any attention. “you don’t have to be sexy for me, you can just wear whatever you want. Whatever’s comfortable.”

You refrain from rolling your eyes at the non-committal response, and instead shut them briefly so that you can focus on slipping into his mind. Smiling a little at the way his kinks and fetishes seemed to have evolved from last time, you let yourself savor and get to know his taste.

“…is she okay? Fuck, Jimin, she’s probably glitching out or something. Throw more salt on her; maybe the call is running out.”

“I’m not gonna throw salt on her. Y/n, are you good?”

You crack open your eyes with a satisfied smile, then look down at you clothes, dematerializing the casual attire and replacing it with a pair of black shorts and an oversize yellow sweater that hangs off one shoulder to expose your bare skin, no bra strap in sight.

Jimin’s mouth hangs open, and he closes it to swallow hard. “That’s… that’s my sweater.”

“The one you were wearing at our first meeting, correct. It was the only item of clothing of yours I had seen in enough detail to recreate. Is this acceptable attire?”

Jungkook sighs out dreamily. “Most certainly. Stealing his sweater? Classic girlfriend. Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

Before you can answer, a doorbell rings somewhere outside the room. Jimin swears and puts a hand across his forehead nervously. “Oh god, what if they don’t believe me? What if they won’t have sex with her and I have to sell my soul to make up for the deal? Oh god, what am I doing?”

“Calm down,” Jungkook commands with a soft punch to Jimin’s shoulder, “it’s probably just Hoseokie-hyung getting back from the store. Y/n,” he swivels and fixes his gaze on you, “just pretend like you only just arrived, okay? We’ll introduce you.”

‘Hoseokie-hyung’ turns out to be a boisterous, extremely friendly young man with black hair and tanned skin, and before Jimin even gets your name out, you’re enveloped in a tight hug, feet almost lifting off of the ground.

“So nice to meet you! Jimin’s been pretty hush-hush about everything. Guess he wants to keep you all to himself, huh?”

“No!” Jimin yells suddenly, making Hoseok flinch in surprise. “Uh, sorry, we’re just not, um, monogamous. I didn’t tell you guys much because…”

You smile softly, internally cringing at the way he awkwardly stumbles on his words. “I asked him to keep quiet,” you pitch in, “I didn’t want him talking me up too much!” Your eye twitches when Jimin laughs in relief a little too loudly.

“Oh,” Hoseok states, a little less energetic than before, but still with a radiant, friendly beam on his face, “that’s fair enough, I know Jimin certainly likes to overexaggerate things. But you seem lovely, it’s nice to meet you!”

“You too.” You remember Jungkook’s advice: compliments, physical contact, and agreement. Without warning, you’re leaning into Jimin’s side and slipping your hand into the back pocket of his jeans. Secretly loving the way the muscles in his ass jump at the pressure, you smile pleasantly. “Any friend of Jimin’s is a friend of mine.”

Jimin tugs at the neck of his white sweater, then lets his arm gingerly rest over your shoulders. “Hobi-hyung, when are the others arriving?”

Hoseok’s eyes light up. “Soon, I hope! Most of the others met up at the main station to get an Uber together, but-” A ding breaks his concentration, and you frown, craning your neck to locate the origin of the source.

Hoseok pulls out a black, flat device from his pocket and stares into the light that comes out the surface. You were of course familiar with mobile phones, had seen them in the wild, but had no use for one yourself. You watched curiously as he looked at it for a moment, squinting to try and make out what showed up on the surface. “Oh! Yeah, so as I was saying, most of them are en route now, but Yoongi showed up separately. He just text; he’s at the front door.”

Your head rocks back and your pleasant façade freezes. Jimin feels you tense up, and hastily removes his arm from your shoulders as if that was the problem, then asks you if you’re okay, but you’ve tuned out the earthly plane you’re on, homing in on your other senses.

It could be a different Yoongi, you had hoped for a moment. Maybe it had become a popular human name. But no. You could feel his familiar energy radiating through your skull, the way it did when he was near.

Another ding sounds in the back of your mind, but this one doesn’t come from Hoseok’s device, but the direction of the front door. Your ex-boyfriend is here.

[realrhythmskrp]

DISPATCH, (05/03/17): Kaleidoscope Records has officially released information about stylist, Moon Hyeji, on the staff’s official website! Moon Hyeji is a ‘92 liner and has been beloved by fans since she earned her job. Find out more about Hyeji below!

I, MOON HYEJI, have read and understand the terms and conditions as my position of STYLIST and agree to honor the standards that are to be expected of me as an employee of KALEIDOSCOPE RECORDS.

OOC INFORMATION

Preferred name: Chloe

Pronouns: She/her

Timezone: PST

Other muses: n/a

IC INFORMATION

Faceclaim: Pony (Park Hyemin)

Name: Moon Hyeji

Stage name (if applicable): n/a

Idol concept: Hyeji is Kaleidoscope Records’ resident stylist unnie/noona. Despite her young age, her open, mother-like nature makes her the one to go to for advice whether it be for personal life or what outfit to wear. Although she has tried to stay on the down-low as a staff member, she has already been spotted by several Kaleidoscope fans for her looks and style that don’t lose to her idol clients. Why don’t you try and be an idol or actress?, Hyeji’s small fanclub asks. Many people question why she doesn’t try to get in the business since she’s at the prime age for an idol career, but what many don’t know is that she is in fact an ex-idol. Either way, Hyeji feels just fine being behind the scenes.

Birth date and age: December 30, 1992 / 24 years old

Company name: Kaleidoscope Records

Group Name (if applicable): n/a

Group Position (if applicable): Staff member (stylist)

Strengths: (+) Flexible and talented. As a stylist, Hyeji can do hair, makeup, and fashion. Graduating as one of the top students of the cosmetology school she attended, she is more than capable to work with hair and makeup. Among the number of employees at Kaleidoscope Records, Hyeji is known to be one of the top stylists in the company despite only working there for 2 years so far. With just one look at a person, she can decide what colors/looks are most suitable for that person, bringing out their inner beauty and charisma. She has also previously lived in Japan, and despite the short time she gained an incredible amount of fashion knowledge and inspiration. She incorporates what she has learned as well as her own personal Hyeji flair into the looks she creates for her idol clients. (+) Approachable. Hyeji may come off as strong and intimidating at first sight due to her resting bitch face and flashy looks, but she greets everyone with a smile. She is ready to assist anyone who asks for help, and offers it when she sees people struggling. For this reason, she is even friends with some Kaleidoscope trainees as well as some idols from other companies due to interactions in the waiting rooms. (+) Perseverance. Whether it be in her work or in personal life, Hyeji will never give up until she has done all that she can. Even if you tell her she can’t, she will insist that she can and prove you wrong. Though this has sometimes gotten her in a bit of trouble with the senior stylists, her perseverance has always resulted in some of her best work.

Weaknesses: (-) Indecisiveness. It is easy for Hyeji to make decisions when it comes to her career as a stylist for idols. However, the same quality does not seem to quite transfer over to Hyeji’s personal life. It is difficult for her to make her own decisions on some of the simplest things, resulting in her close friends being quite frustrated with her when she texts them randomly for help choosing between this or that. (-) Perfectionist. Hyeji always wants to help people as much as possible, and with this comes her desire to give the best to her clients. Because she spends so much time trying to perfect her ideas for her clients’ looks, this sometimes results in too much work piled up for her. However, this perfectionism does result in some of the best styles for her clients.

Positive traits: compassionate, dedicated, enthusiastic

Negative traits: critical, indecisive, perfectionist

PERSONAL HISTORY

Age 1. To celebrate Hyeji’s first birthday, her parents set up the table for Doljabi. In this Korean tradition, parents put various objects on a table that reflect the child’s life in the future. Her parents put up the traditional items of string, calligraphy brush, money, and more. However, when the time came, Hyeji did not choose any of the objects on the table. She took a tuft of her father’s hair with her left hand, and a loose strand of her mother’s hair with her right hand. Before the two could understand what was going on– Yank. With her two small hands, she pulled down on her parents’ hair. There was a moment of silence, before her grandma laughed heartily. “Looks like she’s destined to take over the family salon,” she said with a smile.

Age 14. Starting from middle school, Hyeji had begun to help out at her family’s salon whenever she had free time. She wasn’t forced to do it at all—in fact, she really enjoyed her work. She was able to balance this “part-time work” with her schoolwork, maintaining her place in the top 15 students in her class. Though she was young, she often had long conversations with the customers as she did her thing—the elders loved her the most. “Hyeji-ah, you really have a talent. When you’re older, you can catapult this small family business into a salon chain!” many customers have said. Her parents were extremely proud of her, and thus began their goal of having Hyeji take over the family business.

Age 16. Hyeji was just working as usual in the salon when her customer gave her a card. Before she could ask what it was for, the customer had already paid and left. She looked down at it—“XXX COMPANY, Talent Agency Scout.” At the bottom of the card was a scribbled note, “We are planning to debut a girl group within the next few years. Please attend our audition.” She was utterly confused, but mostly in disbelief. Her? An idol? She wasn’t sure if she could do it, but in that moment she thought that she really wanted to do this. She was young and had no idea what she was doing. But her parents still accepted this, not wanting to restrict her. After all, what were the odds that their Hyeji would really make it as an idol?

Age 18. After that one fateful day 2 years ago, Hyeji was now about to debut in the girl group XXX after 2 years of training. She was excited, but scared at the same time. Was this all worth it? Would her hard work pay off? She took a deep breath as she, along with the 5 other girls, stood backstage on stand-by. It was their time to shine.

Age 19. Hyeji opened what seemed to be her third bag of potato chips as she sat on the beat-down couch that stood at the center of the small dorm’s living room. If she had become so famous, why would she have enough free time to binge eat junk food? Well, the truth is, she wasn’t famous at all. In their debut year of 2012, almost 40 girl groups made their debut. Of this large number, only a handful managed to make it out alive and succeed. Hyeji’s group was not one of them. She was now out of work and had no recognition. She resorted to eating her troubles away.

After the company finally got enough money, Hyeji’s group made their comeback to an unwelcoming audience. The comeback was low-budget, and they were unable to get their name up there. The only publicity they ever got was when they were ridiculed by netizens on the Internet for their lack of success. Even so, they were at such an epitome of “nugu” status that they didn’t even have that many antis. Among the bad things said on the Internet were hate comments directed towards Hyeji’s “drastic” weight gain. Though it was not much due to her metabolism, her stress-eating resulted in her gaining an obvious amount of weight. “Someone with that body can be an idol? Her legs are so stocky, she must have used all her free time before the comeback to eat!” a comment said. Hyeji didn’t dare to read any of the online forums. After just a little over a year of activities, with only 2 singles to their name, Hyeji’s group and the company itself dissolved. From debut to their disbandment, their songs never even reached the top 500.

Age 20. Hyeji was now well-situated back at home, and it was easy to adjust back to her “normal” life. Now free from the stress of the idol life, she worked on losing weight and changing herself through diet and exercise alone, never resorting to surgery. She wanted to do something for herself, to be successful at something. After her group’s disbandment, Hyeji used part of her savings to fly to Tokyo, Japan. She had decided to stay there for 6 months on a whim, gaining an interest in fashion as she walked the roads of Harajuku and Shibuya. She had been too scared to face her parents after her failed career as an idol, instead using Japan as her safe place to live freely by herself as she waited for the right time. When she came back, she was a whole new person. She exuberated confidence, and it was evident by her flashy wardrobe and colorful hair. She was now working at her family’s salon again, just like old times, and she was welcomed back with open arms by the regular customers. “Hyeji-ah, have you ever thought of pursuing a career in cosmetology? My daughter is currently enrolled at a cosmetology school, it’s the top beauty school in Seoul and I think you would do well!” one of the customers had suggested. Why hadn’t she thought of this as a Plan B? She already had the basic skills and talent to work in a field of cosmetology, but she hadn’t thought about it after being preoccupied by the memories of her past idol career. From then on, she enrolled in XXX Cosmetology School and began her studies.

Age 22. Being one of the top students of the school, Hyeji graduated with recognition and support from her fellow classmates. She was the role model of her underclassmen, and she felt truly happy with her chosen path. She was able to get work right after graduating, but despite many love calls was unable to decide on what to do from then on. That was when one of her friends, currently working as a stylist at a idol company, suggested that she put Hyeji’s name in as a suggestion to her boss. At first Hyeji was hesitant due to her past experience in the entertainment industry, but then it clicked. She decided that she wanted to try this out, to help people who were going through the exact same process she had gone through years before. She wanted to make them beautiful, to give them the confidence they needed to make it big and shine out there. What better place to do this than in the place where she has failed before? She still had regrets from those experiences, and she was never given the chance to redeem herself in the entertainment field. She wanted to start over.

And so began Hyeji’s career as a stylist at Kaleidoscope Records…