#why are there two colors. i dont want to search

[bows4tyun]

MINE - 최연준 ˎˊ˗ ⸝⸝

୨ৎ: ""mother fucker... " yeonjun snarled under his breath, trying to get a glance of the jackass who had the nerve to approach and even touch his girl. he felt his blood begin to boil, coursing through his body like wildfire. he normally was never like this. "

𓍼 pairing! - fratboy boyfriend!yeonjun x fem!reader

𓍼 warnings! meandom!yeonjun, whinysub!reader, ass smacking, big dick yeonjun, unprotected sex, breeding kink if you squint, slut shaming, groping, yeonjun referred as jjunie by reader, yeonjun calls reader baby, slut, and whore

𓍼 lexi adds! - I dont know how I've been able to finish TWO stories in the span of two days but ye enjoy frat boy yeonjun !! ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽ (i was too impatient to let the poll end) anyways merry christmas to anyone who celebrates!! hopefully you enjoy this gift

the party was supposed to be like any other, or at least that's what yeonjun thought it would be.

his parties were the most popular; everyone would be showing up, dressed to impress as the house was lit with bright shining colorful lights and loud music. good thing the music wasn't loud enough to wake the neighbours

yeonjun stood near the door, greeting guests one by one as they entered just as a good party host should do. maybe yeonjun's cool and funny yet approachable demeanour was the reason he became the most popular guy in college.

just because he was a fratboy didn't mean he was rude and distant like the rest. yeonjun was quite the opposite. thats the exact reason why you fell for him the same day you met him. it was only your first day in college, yet yeonjun talked to you as if he had known you for years, giving you a warm welcome as your upper classmate.

you definitely fell hard for him, but yeonjun fell even harder. he loved you so damn much, all of the small things you did reminded him why he fell for you. he just couldn't handle himself

whenever he threw these parties, he made sure your body was protected from any creeps who were trying to get a free show out of you. this time, it didnt really go as yeonjun wanted it to.

his eyes were looking around trying to find you amidst the crowd of people who were dancing inbetween the living and dining room. at the same time that he was searching, he was rejecting girls who tried flirting with him, giving them a quick "I have a girlfriend." after each of their attempts.

one girl in particular just wouldn't leave yeonjun alone, continuing to flirt and try to seduce him even after his polite rejects. yeonjun decided to stand up and go search for you but before he could walk toward the crowd, the girl stopped him, her hands running up and down his chest in a seductive manner.

"where are you going, jjun? stay with me, yeah? I promise you a good time~" she spoke, her voice full of lust and her eyes hinting desire.

yeonjun began to grow impatient his anger starting to get the best of him as he attempted to push her away lightly. oh but she wouldn't budge, staying put in her place and not wanting to leave yeonjun.

yeonjun chuckled nervously as the girl smirked with mischief. his eyes darted around the room, finally landing on you, and a guy...?

were his eyes playing with him? uncertain of what he was seeing, he blinked rapidly, trying to reset his vision.

he opened his eyes and looked again, the guy was still there yet this time, his hands were on you.

"mother fucker... " yeonjun snarled under his breath, trying to get a glance of the jackass who had the nerve to approach and even touch his girl. he felt his blood begin to boil, coursing through his body like wildfire. he normally was never like this.

that was when yeonjun lost it.

he pushed the girl aside a bit roughly, causing her to curse at him, but yeonjun didn't care. that's not what was on his mind at the moment. his only goal was to make sure you were safe.

he made his way through the crowd, finally finding himself infront the you and the guy.

"what the fuck do you think you're doing touching my girl as if she were yours?" yeonjun asked sternly before grabbing the guy by the shoulder and turning him to see his face.

the guy had the nerve to smirk at him, not caring to hear yeonjun's question. he kept his hand on your thigh which wasn't unnoticed by yeonjun. he looked at you, your eyes clearly showing discomfort.

that was all yeonjun needed. he grabbed you by your waist, catching you by surprise and you yelp. "jjunie!"

before you could say anything thing else, your lips were against his in a searing kiss, his tongue invading your mouth and dancing with yours. the guy could only watch in jealousy as yeonjun's hands dragged down along your hips and gripped your ass.

"whatever man, fuck you." the guy spoke for the last time before leaving the party completely.

yeonjun broke the kiss as you both pant to catch your breath. "that 'outta show that fucker."

"thank you, he was making me really uncomfortable... " you spoke warmly, pressing your head lovingly against his chest.

yeonjun signalled the dj for a microphone before speaking in a blunt tone, "party's over, go home."

the crowd awed in unison before obeying and grabbing their stuff to leave. you sit on the couch with yeonjun as you watch everyone leave. yeonjun's still hugging you with his arms wrapped around your shoulder, his grip tight. when a particular girl leaves she looks at you with a snarl. confused you turn to yeonjun who just kisses you in the same rough manner again.

after the party's officially over, yeonjun leads you to your shared bedroom, the room only really clean room in the whole house.

yeonjun sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "that fucker had me all worked up, what a piece of shit..." he huffs out, voice still hinting of anger. "baby, you would do anything to calm me down, right?"

"of course! why do you ask?" you questioned him innocently as you sat on the soft bed. he answered your question with a lustful glare in his eyes.

⸝⸝

"hmph-! jjunie, too fast! ah-!" you cried out pathetically, gripping onto the duvet sheets under you as yeonjun pounded into you mercilessly.

"shut up, slut." he spat out harshly before smacking your ass, causing you to yelp with tears soaking the bed. "all you do is whine and complain. I bet you liked it when he was touching you, didn't you?" he huffed while quickening his pace.

"you're going too fast oh god-!" just as you whimper and whine, you feel your head get yanked back by the hair, your scalp burning deliciously.

"what did I just say, whore? you don't ever tell me what to do. know your place shit-..." he groans and uses your hair as a way to pound even faster than before. "take it! you know you can, slut. your hole was made for dick." he says this as you pussy clenches and gushes around his cock.

"jjunie! 'gonna cum fuckfuckfuck! please, let me cum!" you plead as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten. his grip on your ass tightens too as he chases his high as well.

"fuck! that's it baby, cum on my cock like the good little whore you are! that fucker wishes this were him." just as you thought he couldn't go any faster, he does.

right as his pace increases you cum on his cock, moaning out his name in a high pitched manner. "jjunie!!"

yeonjun keeps going, you could hear him huff and groan softly behind you as he continues to fuck into your spent cunt.

"you want me to cum inside? want me to claim and mark you with my cum?" you're too fucked dumb on his cock to understand what he's implying and just agree.

"yesyesyes! jjunie please-! i need it!" you mewl and grip the sheets with all your might before you hear yeonjun curse behind you

"fuck-! take it, baby!" he groans out, plunging completely i side of you, shooting out his white sticky cum into your womb, getting the perfect angle. he leans toward you, his lips right at your ear "you wouldn't get mad if you get pregnant, right baby?"

you shake your head, feeling worn out, "not at all..." he kisses your shoulder and grips your chin to make you face him.

"good, that's what I like to hear..."

𓍼 taglist! - empty! (lmk if you want to be added for future works please and thank you!!)

[miyakiwiii]

GUESS NO ONE EVER TAUGHT YOU HOW TO BE A REAL MAN...。o○ [1]

-KANG DAE HO X FEM!READER

WOOOO SECOND DAE HO FIC OF MINEEE(ilhsm) HOPE U ENJOY!

TAGS

Reader and dae ho are both in squid game... uh no warnings except swearing and player EUGH 100

NOTE:

This is really long, since i made this while rewatching squid game s2 lmao. Also your kinda like sae-byeok but more chalant also this is really longU^ェ^U (did not expect this to turn into a series)

WORD COUNT:2,15k!

NEXT PART..

MASTERLIST

The debt was passed to you when eventually one of your only remaining family members were missing.

It was always because that family member always had to go to loan sharks, to get money, and to use for what? The common answer: Gambling.

The debt that was passed to you was... 320 million won.

Your dad, when he was alive.. you were inspired by him, after all, he was in the ROK Airforce before.

You wanted to be like him, but he didnt want that for you, you were his precious jewel.

"Pa! I wanna be like you when i grow up! All strong!" Younger you said as you flexed your tiny arms, flashing a big grin. Your father chuckles as he puts a hand in your head and starts patting you, messing up your dolled up hair.

"Now now kiddo, Being one of us is really difficult, i dont want my sweetie to be hurt." He says, kneeling down to face you as you pouted.

"Nuh uh! Im still going to become an air enforcer like you!" You said as you crossed your arms.

"Im warning you kiddo." He stops kneeling down.

Well, that dream never came true.

Sitting in one of the benches, it was dark. Now why would a woman stand in the dark all by herself? Isnt that dangerous?

Not at all for you- okay that was cringe.

You fought for yourself always, learning to survive and such.

"Need to go home now.." you sigh, standing up from the bench and fixing your jacket, putting your hands in the pocket, whew it sure is chilly.

"Now now... whats a pretty girl like you doing all alone in the dark?" A creep asks, you could tell it wants something for you, so you kept walking, fastening your steps even more.

"He-Hey! I was talking to you! Come back here!" The creep yelled out.

"Get the fuck away from me." You said, the man finally quiet down and just stood there, watching you walk, and dissapear in the distance.

Finally, arrived to your home... or small apartment, you searched for the keys in one of the pockets you put your hands on, now holding onto the small key, you took it out of your pockets and opened the door.

DAY 2.

You went into the subway for absoulutely no reason at all, going down the stairs on the subway station's tunnel entrance, now sitting in one of the chairs to relax,you saw a... man in a suit, smiling weirdly with a briefcase approaching you, Guess he was a scammer?

The man smiles at you and sits beside you at the bench.

"Hello maam, may i talk to you?" He says, looking at you strangely.

You ignore him and just look at the ground of the subway station.

"Would you like to play a game with me?" He says, looking at you, eugh that stare kinda creeps you out(ik some of yall be simping)

"Eh... who even are you to begin with? Some kind of buisness man exactly?" You say, looking at the man.

You find him, his suitcase opened, finding a red and blue folded paper, along with... won.

He holds out both of the folded paper, and asks. "So, which color do you want to play as?" He says.

"...Blue." You say.

A FEW ROUNDS LATER.

He had explained the round, basically, the two of his slaps were decreasing of the 100k won, but instead, we pay with our... body? That sounds like prostitution but its done anyways.

He looks at you as you stood silent, looking at the man.

"Here's your won." The man says, the man's slap still aching.

"You can make money after playing game's like this do you know that miss?" He says, as you held the money.

"Would you like to try it out?" He said, the hint of mischieoveness achived in his voice.

You thinked, looked at the man. "Huh? Are you trying to fool me sir?" You say monotonely.

"Miss [Reader]." He said as he stood up. You went quiet as you looked at him, how did he know your name?

After that, he said everything, every information you had, school, work- whatever else, even your fathers name.

"As now, one of your family members passed a debt to you about.. 230 million won due to loan sharks."

"Wha- what are you..?" You said, looking at him terrified.

He pulls out a card from his coat pocket, holding it out to show to you.

"We have many spots left." He says, you took the card fastly from his hand, basically snatching it.

"Give me a call." He says as he walked away, you were left there, standing.

DAY 3.

You wake up, in a strange place. Looking around, you held your head as you sighed. Rubbing your temples.

"Fucking hell... my head hurts. You sat up, and took off the duvet that was covering you. Realizing that you had new clothes, you decided to unzip the zipper of the greenish blue jacket, you saw that something was written on your shirt.

238.

"What the... fuck." You stood up and went to the center, as someone accidentally bumped into you.

"Hey-! Watch where your going!" You say, the music that was coming from the speakers finally stopped as the man spoke to you "You watch ou- oh.. i apologize miss."

"Yeah, you better." You said, looking at the man.

You observed the man as you saw that he had a hair length that was reaching his neck a little bit, he had a strong jawline, and a part of his hair was tied to the back, he kinda looked cute whatsoever, but you didnt pay mind to that.

You looked at his jumper, the jumper has a number.. '388.'

The front door opened as three men with masks, the middle one has a square mask, the other two? Both circle.

"Thats strange, this isnt a costume party at all." You say, hand on your waist.

The man was still beside's you, you didnt notice him looking at you, and then he looked back at the guards.

Murmur's filled the room, as you stayed silent, the man beside you tried talking to you.

"Real- ehem, real strange for sure." Yet you still ignored him.

TIME SKIP OF THE SQUARE TALKING.

"Excuse me." A voice said from afar, you turned around to see, it appears to be a transgender woman, you respected her of course. She stepped down some few steps and said..

"You said i'd be playing games, but you practically kidnapped me." She said, looking at the guard.

"I apologize." The man in the square soldier says. "Please understand it was necessary to maintain the game's security."

"... I agree, we didnt consent to this at all." You spoke out, looking at the guards as people leaned their head torwards you.

"So how can we believe that?" She says.

"Whats with the mask then? Is your face also a secret?" A random female says.

"Yeah! Why are you hiding your face? Is this some kind of illegal gambling house?" A random man says.

"Even the dealers dont cover their faces in those place's!" The random woman says.

Murmur's build up as i listened to some of them.

"To ensure fair gameplay and confilentiality, it is our policy not to reveal the face's and identities of staff please understand." The square says.

"... i dont really give a shit about all this talking.. except taking us to some- some place else." i sigh, crossing my arms.

A diva- i mean a girl holds out the jacket given and holds it up. "Did you take off my clothes and put these on me?" The girl says.

"My shoes are limited fucking edition." A forked up- i mean a purple haired guy says, rotating the shoes. "They're hard to find, you goin' to replace em if they get" RUINED?!"

"These dont fit and the color sucks... can i just have what your wearing instead? I like pink" the girl says.

I sigh, looking at the girl from afar, hands now in my pocket's.

TIME SKIP WHEN THEY ANNOUNCE THE PPL W/ DEBTS CUS IM LAZY..

(sorry chat)

"Hah, a crypto scammer in this game...? Noted." I say as i scoff, after hearing the mans words.

"Player 333, llee myung-gi." As the square presses something, the tv that was placed up the screen showed something, the ddakji game..!

"Age 30, Used to run a Youtube channel called MG coin. After Convincing subscribers to invest in a new crypto coin called dalmatian, causing losses of approximately 15.2 billion won. You shut down and dissapeared. Your wanted for fraud, and for violating telecom,and financial investment laws. Current debt level, 1.8 billion won."

"Player 196, Kang Mi-na, 45 million won in debt."

"Player 120, Cho hyun-ju, 330 million won in debt."

"Player 238, [READER FULL NAME]. 230 million won in debt."

'What a fucker..' i stay silent looking at the side.

"Player 230, Choi Su-bong 1.19 billion won in debt."

"Player 198, Jang do-yeong 1.4 billion won in debt."

"Player 226, Kim Yeong-san 1.9 billion won in debt."

"Player 444, Kim Nam-du, 2.02 billion won in debt"

"Player 343, Sim Jae-Seok 2.89 billion won in debt."

"Player 006, Park Mi-hwa, 3.1 billion won in debt."

"Player 283, Lee Eun-jun, 4.02 billion won in debt."

"Player 100, Im Jeong-dae, ten billion won in debt."

"One more game!" The screen's speakers yell out.

"What a greedy old grandpa, huh?" You tried talking to the taller man beside you.

"Uhuh.. totally.. haha.." he says, scratching his nape.

"Who is that? Who is he?" Some people say.

"WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT!?" it yells out. "DO YOU THINK- BLAH BLAH BLAH blah blah..."

'Yeah we dont really care whatsoever.' You rolled your eyes, murmurs still surrounding him.

"All of you in this room, Have crippling debts, and now on a cliff-edge. When we first came to you, you did not trust us either. But as you know, we played a game, and gave you money as promised, And so you trusted us and volunteered to participate according to your own free will. You have one last chance to decide, Do you want to live in a piece of trash running for creditors? Or will you seize the last opportunity we are offering?" The square finishes.

I listened carefully (finally) to its words, processing all of it inside my head.

The light's suddenly darken- and now there was a golden glow emitting from above.

"Is heaven taking- woaah... never mind i guess." I look up and above, a piggy bank, not just any ordinary piggy bank, a fucking. Huge. One.

The music that appeared fastened up when the piggy bank was going down.

"Whoa, thats huge yanno'..?" The man beside's you says.

"What you see now, is the piggy bank where your valuable prize money will be stored. After each of the six games you will play, the prizs money will be accumalated in this piggy bank." The square says.

A mama's boy- i mean a man speaks up and asks "how much is the prize money?"

The square answers the man's question. "The prize money for the game is 45.6 billion won in total."

Shocked gasps and sounds build up.

"45.6 billion... won..." i say, my eyes blinking "thats insane."

"And one of us will get it?" The man asks.

"We will give you the detail's about the distribution of the price money after the first game. For these games, you will be given a special new advantage." The square says.

"What is it?" The old bit- i mean man says.

"After each game, you will be given a chance to vote on whether to continue the game or not. If the majority votes to stop the games, you can leave with the prize money accumalated up to that point." The square says.

"Are you saying.." a man says from behind,not in the crowd, but in the sides of the bed- whatever its called

"We'll receive the money after we leave the first game?"

[itsfairly]

if no one is going to talk about nanami's suspenders, i will.

nanami dresses really professionally, who else is going to wear a suit when going to fight curses? but it's the way he dresses professionally that it's interesting. sure, the colors on his suit aren't the most common combination to see in an office job, but when you focus on the pieces, you can tell he puts an effort into looking that way. slacks ironed right in the middle to get that prominent line, how he always makes sure to shine his shoes before they become too dull, and then his suspenders...god, you still remember the first he took them off in front of you.

you see, his suit can be pretty deceiving, hiding all his body underneath it. not just skin, but also build. so its no surprise if some things get tight around his body. Some things being said suspenders.

once the blazer was off and nanami placed his cleaver away, he sat on the bed with his back facing you as he unclasped the clips of his suspenders, the small click-click getting your attention from your phone as you stole a quick glance at him. you didn't thought much of it at first until you hear a quiet, but very noticeable in the silent room, groan as he slipped the garment off, making your heart skip a beat.

from there on, you continued to enjoy the view in silence, mentally thanking that his back was facing you and he wouldn't notice you staring. his shirt was the next to go, agonizingly slow as he worked through the buttons with the little energy he had from his mission today. but once unbuttoned, nanami took the shirt off and you felt your heart make its presence to you once more as it beat faster and faster. not because more skin was exposed to you, but because you understood why it was his suspenders that made him groan.

they were tight around his body, and after a day's work, they had left marks behind.

you dont know why the sight captivated you so badly. i mean, he wore something so elegant to work, something other people wouldn't wear given his line of work, something that probably left his skin sore. but god, you would be lying his seeing those marks didn't spark something in you.

but now, the backseat to this sight didn't satisfy you enough, so you stood up, walking to the other side of the room to steal a glance or two under the pretense of getting a sweater. if his back was a sight, the front was just as much. the x shape on his back extended over to his shoulder, draping the marks down his chest in two lines until they ended on both his sides. it was hard to play off the glances, having to remind yourself that you shouldn't be too obvious as you turned to your closet and search for your excuse (a sweater).

in a weird way, those marks were almost erotic, reminding you that nanami is much more muscular than his clothes make him seen. after all, just how tight (and how long) those suspenders could be if they left such marks? you just wanted to trace them with your fingers, letting the marks dictate where you would caress, feeling the slight dents in his skin as you soothed them over with your lips as you kissed over them, hearing him sigh and groan the more you went south until you...

"something wrong?" nanami asked, snapping you out of your thoughts as you turned your head to look at him.

"just choosing a sweater. i got chilly," you smiled at him, taking whatever sweater as quickly slipping it on.

nanami, to your dismay, had already changed out of his clothes and into his sweatpants, hiding away those marks that had caught your attention so quickly. he stood up from the bed, coming behind you and wrapping his arms around you with a chuckle.

"my darling is cold? i can't have that, you know?" he said, rubbing your sides affectionately to warm you up, not that he needed to when you were already quite hot and bothered now. "i can make you some tea if you want."

you chuckled, ignoring his hands on you (otherwise you would push him onto the bed when his body was probably too sore for that). turning around to face him, you place your hands on his shoulders to try and sneak a touch over where his suspenders would be, making you feel that anticipation was your hands roam down to rest on his chest as if you were already following along his marks.

"sounds nice, love," you nod, letting him taking your hand and guiding you to the kitchen.

maybe next time you would get a chance to feel those marks. this time, skin to skin. even better, take off those suspenders yourself.

[gooselycharm]

severance comic process write up (unasked for)

i finished season 1 of severance jan 24 and maybe by then NL had already begun his apple tv tirades. so maybe that's why i thought of the get it twisted speech? dont remember exactly but i was like wait......... this kinda fits...... and basically the images were forming in my head and i had to get them out. this is the best kind of inspiration to have. when it feels like you are afflicted with a life-threatening disease and the only cure is to draw pictures

i decided i wanted square panels and a black and white color scheme pretty early on. i wanted the pacing to feel kind of fast, so one line per page (basically i was trying to match the monologue). black and white also made sense because 1) i didn't want this to take 2 years like my last comic 2) fits theme of the show and the monologue rapidly whipping back and forth 3) i thought maybe i'd riso print this in the beginning and 1 color would be cheapest/easiest

the sketching phase was really smooth. it was like the images were in my mind already and just needed to be brought to life. my motivation was strong as well (i thought it was really funny and if no one liked it at least i really really liked it).

^ my sketches. most compositions made it to final without major edits. i did cut almost all of the last 8 because i didn't feel like I needed the moment to be dragged out so much AND i was getting pretty tired by that point lol.

one page i'm glad i changed was the ms casey one. the reason i changed it at first was because i thought it was too similar to the irving/burt one. and then i ended up really liking the new composition.

as i moved to final, i had a couple of inspirations in mind. i'm a huge fan of sophia foster-dimino's work, and in particular her sex fantasy comics

^ books/zines i looked at for inspiration. second image is a spread from sex fantasy #4.

i also was inspired by jennifer xiao's comics and how chootalks and nogoodwithcat handle linework and value

i was inspired by jennifer's pop up ads comic for this page. i like the humor in her work and wanted to bring an element of that into my comic.

i love these drawings by choo that showcase these eerie tableaus of desserts/cakes/hammers/etc! i was trying to evoke the same vibe with the two "get it twisted" pages with the stack of waffles.

also, just tons and tons of references taken from the show and stock images.

i pretty much just worked for two weeks straight until i finished. what unemployment does to a motherfucker. even though it's fanart and the words aren't mine, it's a pretty personal comic. i got suddenly laid off last fall which has made me feel all sorts of feelings, and then starting up my job search this year has been grueling. it kinda blows my mind that anyone expects you to love your job. i love my cat. i love the people important to me. i love moving my body and eating good food and listening to music and being out in nature. i love the color green. i dont love my fucking JOB lmfao!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! are you freaking CRAZY???????? literally do NOT get it twisted. but also please hire me. <- this dichotomy has been making me nuts

anyway. the reception to my comic has been mind blowing. people have said some insanely nice things. i also really appreciate anyone who's read and enjoyed the comic without knowledge of severance or northernlion LMAO honestly amazed and in disbelief.... ty so much..... it really means a lot!!!!!!!!!!

okay i ran out of things to say for now byeeeeeeeeeeee

[helplesslypurple77]

Day 10-Cunnilingus-Hisoka/Reader

Notes: this one is kinda short, sorry. Went to a concert tonight so i dont have much time lol

also title is from 'Guess' by Charlie xcx & Billie Eilish

...

The music pounds in your ears, numbing your brain as you stir your cocktail stick uselessly, watching the colores flash across the bodies on the dance floor, across the far walls. Your friend Vera, sitting beside you at the bar takes a sip of her drink and winces. 

“Bad?” You say over the music, grinning as she shoves it away from her slowly.

“Terrible,” She says, rolling her eyes. “My fault, I felt adventurous. Maybe trying one of their specials was a bad idea.”

You laugh, eyeing the ambiguously labeled specials on the menu, and take a small sip of your own drink. It's not bad, but you played it safe, and ordered a drink you knew this club made well. 

“It's nice to have you out again, Name.” Vera says, smiling genuinely across the table as the two of you lean forward, shouting back and forth. “It's been a while.”

“I guess,” You say, taking another sip to let yourself think. “I’ve been busy.”

Vera eyes you out of the corner of her black eyes, the silver glitter on her eyelids glowing with each flash of light.  You stare at her, catching in her cute clubbing outfit, and then past her to the mass of moving bodies on the dance floor. 

Vera raises a delicately plucked eyebrow at you. 

“It's not because of—” 

“No, Vera.” You say with a roll of your eyes. You actually have been really busy. “I had to help my sister move, remember. And then work was a handful.”

“Those kids giving you trouble?” Vera asks with a wink. You smile.

“No, they're very sweet.” You say, taking another swig of your drink. “Just a lot.”

The sweet kindergarteners you had gotten this year were very well behaved kids. You’ve only had to break up one small fight over a pair of pink scissors, and not the dozens you got last year. You shudder, the problem children had moved on to first grade. 

Managing any large number of small bodies was a time sink, and mentally draining. But you wouldn't trade it for the world. 

“So, you're really over him?” Vera says, leaning forward to shout directly in your ear. You feign ignorance, spinning your glass on the counter.

“Who?” You ask, looking a bit over her left shoulder and not in her eyes. Vera has a scary talent for telling when someones lying. Not like you're lying, just stretching the truth a bit so she doesn't worry. But you're totally over him.

Vera’s eyes slide over the dance floor, surveying the thrusting bodies and you take the opportunity to take a small sip of your drink, smiling in relief. At least she's not looking at you with those knowing eyes. Vera hums conversationally. 

“Wow, there's this really tall man with red hair—”

You don't even let her finish her sentence. You spit your drink, turning your head so fast you almost choke, and survey the crowd.

“Wait where?” You shout, looking over the crowds of moving and twisting bodies frantically. “I can't see where he is, Vera. You gotta hide me.”

A short silence falls, as Vera fails to respond. It takes you about ten seconds of searching the crowd until you realize she's fooled you. You flush and turn away from the crowd, avoiding her eyes.

“Over him, huh.” Vera hums, swiping your drink to take a swig. You sigh, turning back to her and away from the dance floor, trying to cover for your embarrassment. 

“I am, I promise.” You mutter, snatching your now empty drink glass away from her with a sigh. “Why does it matter anyway? It's been months, and it's not like he's here.”

“You never know. Better to be safe than sorry.” Vera shouts, hopping down from the bar stools with a grin. “Wanna dance?”

You shake your head, smiling. “Later.” You say, you're a bit too tired for the dance floor right now. Maybe after a couple more drinks. Vera frowns.

“You want me to stay?” She asks, hand on her hips. You shake your head, tossing your hair over your shoulder with a smile. Vera’s a good friend, but you dont wanna hold her back. She's gonna be tearing up the dance floor any moment. 

“Nah, you go ahead.” You say, motioning towards the bartender. “I'll join you in a bit.”

“Alright,” Vera says, “If you leave early, text me.”

“Same,” You shout and she waves a hand back towards you as she disappears onto the dance floor. You smile after her, watching the silver of her top vanish between the writhing bodies. The bartender slides another drink across the bar and you pay with a smile, sinking back into your bar stool with a sigh. It's nice to be out again, letting the music run through your bones, the alcohol smooths down your anxieties and worries and leaves you with just pleasant thoughts. You down the drink quickly, politely declining the next one offered to you with as much of a smile as you can muster. Thankfully the guy takes it surprisingly well, accepting it and moving on to the next girl. How rare. 

At some point you get up and join the people on the dance floor. You don't dance well, you don't even really dance, you mostly let the bass take you, whirling you around your small circle of space. There isn't much room inside the twisting and writhing bodies. At some point you find Vera, tangled with a man and the two of you dance together, until you're pulled apart again.

It's nice to let go, to writhe and twist and scream with the other people on the dance floor. You're not even drunk, just buzzed enough to forget your problems and dance. 

The man who is dancing behind you smells really familiar. A faint perfume you cant place, mixed with sweat and what might be the copper tang of blood. You disregard it, swaying to the music, until you trip back into him. He's quite tall, you notice as your back his his chest. Muscular too, with how hard his chest is. His hands wind around your waist, studeying you on your feet with a small chuckle. He sounds a bit familiar, feels a bit familiar, like you should know him. But your buzzed mind doesn't want to think too hard.

You throw a half hearted apology over your shoulders as he steadies you, hands feeling lovely on your waist. 

And then you never move away. 

Somehow his hands just stay on your body, moving up and down, occasionally around, letting your sway and grind against him. In your half drunk mind it all feels familiar, and comforting in a way. Not to mention the usual doses of arousal. 

As large hands, planning over the skin of your stomach, want to praise yourself for the thin tank top you were wearing with your low waisted pleated skirt. Your future self is thanking you very much right now, as the man's large hand winds under the hem of your tank top, fingers sitting on your navel. The other one has found its way up to rest on your boob. Not squeezing or touching, just resting. You wish he would do more. 

Out of the corner of your eye you can make out a familiar flash of red as the man leans his head down, breath brushing your left ear. 

“It's been a long time my dear.” Hisoka whispers in your ear, teeth nipping lightly at the top. You whimper, but make no move to pull away. He chuckles.

“You don't seem surprised.” 

You already knew. Maybe from the moment you first caught his scent. How in the world could you forget the scent of a man you’d dated for three years. Your own body is a liar, clearly. You sigh, spinning around in his arms and pressing your face into his chest.

“Shut up,” You mutter against the black t-shirt he wears. “Don't ruin it.”

“I wouldn't dare,” Hisoka coos, hands winding down your waist, hands resting on your ass. You sigh, hands entangled in his body, arms entangled together. His hands are cold, a strange sensation among the sweaty crowd, pulsing with heat and life. And they send a chill through your body as they trace a thin line where the fabric of your pleated skirt meets the top of your thighs. A line as thin as your restraint. 

You want Hisoka. Badly. You shove down your desire and bite your lip. 

“I've missed this,” You mutter, the alcohol thinning the net of restraint between your arousal and your common sense. You hide your face in his muscled chest. It shakes as he chuckles, rewarding your lack of restraint with a gentle trace of the meat of your thighs. You sigh.

“You're certainly loose-lipped.” Hisoka chuckles as his fingers trace gentile lines below the hem of your skirt. And then, after a slight pause, “Me too.”

You don't want to delude yourself into thinking he sounds more sincere. But your more conscious mind notes the words. You know he's not lying. His body is as eager as yours. 

“Here all alone?” He asks, somehow managing to sound condescending over the raging electronic music and the raging fire of arousal and resentment mixing into a heady cocktail of delight. You shake your head into his chest, hands notting in the fabric of his shirt and digging into his back. Hisoka's hands are towing the line, tracing father and farther under your skirt. You don't protest.

“No,” You murmur, “With Vera.”

“Ah, no boyfriend then?” He asks, one of his cold fingers brushing your butcheek. Your pussy drools against your black panties, longing for the familiar touch of his thick fingers. Flashes of a past relationship flit in your touches, behind your eyes. 

“No,” You mutter, grinding against his hands. “Not right now.”

“What a surprise,’ Hisoka coos, “I would have assumed you would have no trouble finding a decent replacement. Maybe a less attractive one.”

You sigh, digging your nails into his back. You know it wont do anything but turn him on, but you want to show your annoyance somehow. Hisoka’s cold hand takes a handful of your ass, squeezing it appreciatively. 

“You're hard to replace.” You sigh, as you pull your head off his chest. Looking up at him was maybe a mistake. Hisoka is really sexy, more sexy than you had even remembered in your dreams. That fire red hair, down and distracting, hiding the flickering yellow of his eyes. He grins down at you, as if he's gazing upon a prize or a treasured painting. You hate the hint of emotion you catch behind his eyes. You wish it was pure lust. 

His kisses taste like alcohol. Like fire and salt and the past, and you melt into his arms with a sigh, resentment lingering in your touch. A hand slips fully under your skirt, fingers sliding over your panties. He chuckles, fingers slick against the mess you know he finds down there. 

“Messy,” Hisoka coos, as a single finger slips under the lace. A tease of what's to come. You whimper, yanking at his shoulders. 

“Wait.” You murmur. To his credit he freezes, hands placed incriminatingly on your body, your waist, your pussy. It's like he's been caught doing something he's not allowed, someone he's not allowed to do. “Not here.” You finish, as your hips grind on that hand, against your will. 

“Hmm,” Hisoka coos, as his thumb finds your clit. “Back area it is then?”

Your back arches against him, moan tumbling from your lips. The people around you haven't noticed, but you know they will soon. You nod. 

♥♥♥

There are a lot of things you could be doing instead of making out with your ex in the dingy back area of a club. Work, for example. Or maybe finishing your newest painting. Or perhaps even chores, or folding laundry, or grocery shopping. But instead you had your legs hooked around the muscled hips of Hisoka, as he practically eats your mouth off your face entirely. 

You pull your hands from his hair, head falling back with a clunk against the wall as he mouths at your neck, leaving possessive little hickeys for a future you. 

You don't want to stop him. 

“We shouldnt do this,” You maon, head rolling to the side, resting against the wall. You can hear the pulsing from the bass through the wall, the muffled sounds of music and bodies. Hisoka has you against a wall, tucked away in the corner of a hallway, behind a do not enter sign. But the two of you were never one to follow directions anyway.

“Why not?” Hisoka purrs against your neck. “It's just meaningless sex.”

He sucks another hickey into your neck and it stings, matching with the words that escape his mouth. You whimper, digging your nails into his back. You want to rip the damn shirt off those broad shoulders.

“It's meaningless.” You murmur, grabbing that red hair and yanking him up to kiss you again. “Just sex.” You moan, tapping the muscled arms holding you suspended off the ground. He lets you drop to the ground, your heels clacking on the ground. 

It's just meaningless. You can do meaningless, emotionless sex. If Hisoka isn't attached, neither are you. You'd rather roll around naked on a hotbed of coals than let that damn man hold something over your head. 

Hands tangled in that red hair, you force him down to his knees.

Hisoka is strong, much stronger than you both physically and in terms of nen. If he wanted to he could easily resist your guidance, he could shove you through the wall if he really tried. But he lets you push him, sinking to his knees with the kind of grin that splits you between slapping him and cumming. You whine, gripping his hair and shoving him close to your pussy. Hisoka smirks. 

“You're so eager for me,” He coos, cold hands stroking your thigh. “Are you sure you aren't still attached?”

You glare, hoisting one leg up and over his broad shoulders.

“Shut up,” You moan, head falling back against the wall with a clunk. Hisoka smirks, and does as you instruct.

Hisoka might be an annoying egotistical asshole, but if you could give him anything, he was extremely skilled in bed. 

You watch as he grips the gusset of your panties, arms flexing as he rips the place clean in half. You want to complain as you watch the lace pieces fall off your thighs and tumble to the floor, but then he puts his tongue to work and any complaints dissolve in your throat. 

God, you missed this. You anchor your hands in his hair as his hands grip your thighs, forcing them apart. The bass thumbs through your body, as Hisoka works his magic on your pussy. His nimble tongue dances around your clit, working up your already tense body, tying it as tight as a bowstring. You whimper, hands yanking and pulling at his hair.

Hisoka looks so good like this, on his knees, hair mussed and eyes hazy, a large bulge tenting his pants. And most importantly, silent.

Slurps and dirty squelching noises fill the empty hallway, accompanied by moans and groans, and of course the bass pumping through the walls and connecting with your body. 

Fucking your ex was a terrible idea, logically speaking. But as your body archings off the wall, as Hisoka suctions his lips around your clit and sucks, the idea seems really bright and clever. God he's so good at this. 

“Fuck,” You mutter, back arching as you feel your orgasm looming closer and closer. “Want more.”

“How eager~!” Hisoka pants, pulling away from your pussy for a moment, his spit slicked lips shining in the lowlight. You groan, muttering something in between his name and ‘shut the hell up’, and then your complaints dissolve into a whine as he abruptly shoves his fingers into your cunt.

Your back arches off the wall, head tipped back, mouth parted in a loud moan. Hisoka knows what he's doing. He knows what you like, how many fingers you want, how fast you want it, how you like your clit sucked. 

He knows it all. 

And you hate that. 

Hisoka holds the power to drive you wild, panting, insane, and you hate it. 

“Gonna cum,” You whine, bucking your pussy against his face. HIsoka mutters something unimportant into your pussy, but all you can muster is a moan of warning before you come.

Your orgasms overwhelms you, stars and lights and red bursting on your eyelids as the arousal falls around you, pumping through your veins in time with the bass. 

“Oh god, Hisoka,” You moan as you cum, and faintly your common sense scolds you for letting him know he has any power over you. But the rest of your body is currently occupied by the orgasms running in waves through your body, by the man on his knees before you. 

“Good, huh my dear?” Hisoka coos when you cum down, rising from his feet with an obnoxious smirk. It turns you on. 

“Shut up,” You whine, pulling your skirt over your naked ass. Hisoka laughs. 

“You’ll have to stand me for a little longer, I'm afraid.” He purrs, hand on your waist as you hobble out of the hallway, and towards the main floor of the club. “I know you can't get it this good anywhere else.”

You want to ignore him, to bruise that massive ego of his but right now you would rather ride the massive dick he has hidden in his pants.

“Fuck you Hisoka.” You mutter as the two of you wind your way across the dance floor and towards the exit of the club. Hisoka chuckles.

“Soon, dear.” He says, hand winding under your skirt to stroke your bare pussy. “Be a good girl and be patient?”

You choke on a moan, slapping his hand away from your bare pussy lest you cum on the floor of the club. You shoot Vera a text before you leave, informing her of your bad decisions. All you receive in response is a simple text.

‘I knew it.’ 

And then

‘Enjoy it.’

You laugh a bit, stepping out into the cold air as Hisoka’s hand winds under your skirt to smooth over your pussy again. You think you very much will. 

...

Endnotes: yay, all done! hope yall enjoyed

[floylia]

# MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾

04. I’m so wet tonight 💌

Destiny and fate are liken to strings you can’t untangle with ease. Two simple words with inexplainable concepts. A belief split into millions of definition.

But this might be fate—a doomed fate.

Cerulean eyes meet yours upon striding inside the store. The contact lasts longer than necessary. But within those few seconds, recognition is acknowledged on both sides.

That fateful day when a guy embarrassed himself and you watched it unfold.

You thought that was the last of it. Perhaps not.

You scan the small dairy isle, searching for an energy drink and a bucket of ice cream, while ignoring the pleads in the back of your head—constantly screeching about the humiliating past.

But who are you to feel embarrassed for him?

Why do you feel shame in the first place?

“Cash or card?”

“Cash.” You pass him the total amount, grabbing the wrinkled change you had in your wallet.

He takes it hesitantly, “By the way, about last time...”

Here we go.

“There was a rat in the locker room so I ran out like that. As for what I said… I don’t remember why I did that. But I promise, I’m not… a pervert,” The last phrase was faint as he whispers it in a breath.

You chuckle, “It made me laugh, don’t worry.”

One moment ago he was a grey cutout, now colors are back in his face as a grin reaches the wrinkles of his eyes, “So we’re cool?”

He looks like a dog wagging his tail after seeing a treat.

You nod, “Was that bothering you for a while?”

He breathes a sigh of relief—staring at you as if he had been derived of oxygen, “Yes! I was tossing my body back and forth that night, because my head refused to stop replaying the scene every time I closed my eyes. Can you imagine yourself doing that? Here I thought I was being mysterious.”

Not a single bone in his body was mysterious.

“People remember their own embarrassing moments more than other people’s, don’t stress about it.”

He shows his paper white teeth, “You have a way with words.”

“And you don’t,” You blurt out, recalling that moment.

Laughter engulfs the tense atmosphere.

“Fair enough. Fair enough. I’ll never live that down. My friends tease me enough already,” he hands you your change and the plastic bag worth of snacks.

The pit-a-patter outside makes your head swerve towards the window. Rain droplets fall from the heavens, gearing up as you spend minutes inside the establishment.

Checking the weather today slipped your mind, otherwise you would have brought an umbrella. Even though your dorm is nearby, running through the heavy downpour is not something you enjoy doing on a school night.

Navia would jerk her head in disapproval.

The ginger must have realized your conundrum.

“Here,” He offers you a small black umbrella, “You can use this.”

“No, no it’s alright. You might need to use that later.”

He shakes his head, “The store owns it. We have extra. Just borrow it for tonight. Then you can come back and return it. Think of this as an apology.”

“Thank you. I didn’t want to be drenched today. I’ll return this, I promise!”

A gentle smile pervades his face as he waves a goodbye. He observes you, crossing the street from the foggy window until your silhouette fades with the night sky.

In truth, the store didn’t own the umbrella. They don’t have an extra. It was his — but that is his little secret.

No harm done with a white lie.

NOTES:

kinda rushed (wrote the written parts in one night, i dont usually finish fics in one sitting)

ig he gained aura points?

was gonna post this later but fuck it 🤷‍♀️

SYNOPSIS: There’s a line Childe knows he shouldn’t cross; A line built on years of friendship; A line that happens to cross you, his best friend’s younger sister, grieving her first love; A line where he plays savior, wears a halo, then feign ignorance, because love is a game for fools—and he happens to be the biggest idiot when it comes to love.

When a new stranger invades your life and an old poet writes back.

CHILDE x FEM!READER

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[beefboyandbabygirl]

Girl Code (18+)

pairing: student!jihoon x student!reader

genre: college au, angst, smut (MDNI), lotta crack, friends to...?

description: when you and your friends find out jihoon's been writing down everything you've off-handedly said about "girl code", you simply have to know why.

warnings: brief bondage/restraint, heavy insecurity on readers part, self-doubt, dirty talk, pet names, dom!uzi, sub!reader, desperation, oral (f. receiving), praise (f. receiving), muscly uzi, unprotected sex (dont do it guys....), pining, bad writing, red velvet are your friends, theyre super fun, mingyu is excluded badly, he just wants to b a part of it :(

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "i am simply a hole for him", "pussy? wet. heart? pounding. me? yearning", "every1 talks ab sapphic yearning but what ab just. jihoon-yearning?",

wordcount: 12.0k

a/n: idk why but this is deffo not as good as my previous works. n e way also sorry to @onlyseokmins bc i promised her a seokmin fic WHICH IS STILL COMING i just felt like this was kinda genius and needed to happen first ok bye

It’s mid-spring, and the world is blossoming and flowering around you. Grass sprouts greener, plants drink in the heavy rainfall and flowers are blooming, slowly unfurling their pedaled heads to crane into the beautiful sky. At odds with nature, people walk the street to be drenched in the downpour, only to be dried off by the shyly peeking sun, and to have freckles surfacing on their skin and hair, getting frizzy from the humidity, when they’re biking along the streets. It’s serene, it’s natural. You’re reminded to love the place that birthed and fostered you. 

But that’s out there.

You’re sitting, bottom planted firmly on the sticky surface of Joshua Hong’s couch, looking distantly into artificially colored lights, flickering across the floor, where people are dancing on one another in skimpy outfits and makeup, and everything is very far from the moon and the flowers. 

“The second one is a lie!” Seulgi yells over the music, cup of god knows what in her hand, and slurring her words.

Sitting on the couch and stools surrounding the coffee table is you, Mingyu, Soonyoung, Seulgi, Irene, Yeri and Jihoon.

“No, I know she likes anal!” Screams Soonyoung giddily (forever oblivious to his surroundings), receiving a glare from your roommate, Yeri. You were currently playing two truths and one lie, and attempting to discern whether Yeri was lying about being on television, lying about having black belt in taekwondo or lying about having tried anal. “It’s about whether or not she’s tried it!” Irene rolls her eyes and huffs. “My point still stands,” Soonyoung grins and eyes Yeri, and you watch somewhat disgusted, reminding yourself to ask her about it later.

You’re sitting next to Mingyu, utterly small next to him, and the two of you are only watching the scene unfold, sharing snickering glances when something funny happens. “I’ve never done taekwondo!” Yeri screams at Soonyoung, and you and Mingyu fall back in your seats laughing and slapping each other, when Soonyoung’s face drops for a moment. 

“They’re so dumb!” Mingyu cries, and you nod buried in a decorative pillow. 

“Screw this noise, I’m finding Junhui,” Hoshi mumbles, a little deflated from his loss. Then he’s standing up, cargo-pants and all, and trudging away, pouting over his shoulder when he hears the laughing continue.

Jihoon - who’s been incredibly quiet and observant throughout the night, only sipping a single bottle of beer, slaps his thighs. You’re hoping in his ever searching eyes he hasn’t seen the way you’ve been staring at him all night. Are you drunk or is he so complex and sexy, and wearing a t-shirt that shows his huge arms and pants that show his thick thighs? You’re almost certain you can chalk this up to only ever seeing him in sweaters that totally swallow him - almost. “I’m going too,” he announces, standing up and not leaving much room for argument.

“Why? I’ll be the only guy,” Mingyu whines, pout pushing out his bottom lip. You scoff. You know he loves feeling like he’s one of the girls. “Paper,” Jihoon says, and adds more, when he realizes he’s being so curt it’s almost rude: “Tomorrow. I have a paper tomorrow.” 

The group seems to accept this, knowing the stresses of college are weighing on each of them heavily. But your eyes narrow. You’re not buying it. 

You watch him sling his jacket across his body, biting back more words. He’s quiet, sure, but never this quiet. With how he’d slumped back in his seat all night, almost bent into himself, there must be something bugging him. Jihoon’s eyes meet yours. It’s a half a second, but you feel like he knows you’re on to him, the way he hides his face under his long, black hair again and turns his back to you. All of a sudden he’s hurrying away, excusing himself half-heartedly. You narrow your eyes even further and purse your lips.

“Be right back,” you say. Seulgi pouts.

You’re trudging after him, fussing with your hair all of a sudden and adjusting your dress and - God, you care so much how he sees you. But you suppose you care more that he’s okay. That’s why you’re squeezing through the dancefloor, getting grinded on by several anonymous bodies, before pushing out to the entrance and finally breathing air that wasn't coming directly from someone else’s mouth. 

“Jihoon, wait-” 

You catch up to him by the doorway, where he’s stopped his journey, to slip Vernon a bill for a ziploc of mediocre weed.

“Jihoon!” 

Finally, he hears you and he turns to you, where you’re regaining your last leg from the mass of bodies. Vernon is apparently still sober enough (you wouldn’t have thought so) to understand time and place, so he gently pushes past the two of you into the crowd. 

You’re not ready for the look he gives you. Eyes so sharp and face darkened from his shaggy hair, curling into his face, and frowning and furrowing his brows as if he couldn’t understand why you’re here. 

It sends your out-reaching body slamming backwards. You’re shrinking away from him, eyes flitting downwards self-consciously. You consider your history with him for a moment, weighing it in a glass of vodka-cranberry. This is pathetic, you realize, and it feels terrible. You’re pathetic and desperate and clingy and why would you feel the need to ask him this.

And then one moment to the next you’re scolding yourself for thinking that way. For thinking it was wrong to reach out a helping hand.

Jihoon apparently has enough of you debating with the angel and the devil on your shoulder, because he speaks finally: “What is it?” 

There’s a pause.

“Are you okay?” 

Another pause. You watch Jihoon’s face soften in shock, mouth falling open for a split second, before he’s closing it again and looking away. The ziploc crunches in his fingers, when they tighten and he shoves it into his inner pocket. 

“I’m good,” he says.

“Okay.” 

And this time and even longer pause! You can barely take it, the way he looks at you, and it almost feels like he suspicious of you, like he’s trying to discern what you’re doing here in front of him.

“Have a good night,” you say. He nods slowly and begins to walk off, and you watch him and the way the moonlight fills the entrance, so you’re coated in for a moment. Then it disappears with a slam of the door. You let out a shaky sigh. 

Why did you do that? Why would you even think to do something like that? 

You decide against standing there for any longer, not allowing yourself to overanalyze it, and you turn around to go back to your friends. Yet again comes the song and dance of trying to navigate the most terrifying human cesspool, face scrunching up in disgust as you make your way back to the sofa, almost unscathed, except you think you accidentally got caught in an armpit. 

“Y/n! Come quick, so you can be a part of this momentous- momentous.. Moment!” You hear Mingyu calling and when he’s finally in view, you realize something very, very terrible is about to happen.

Mingyu’s holding a leather notebook between his fingers - Jihoon’s notebook. It’s the one he’s always writing in; the one he shuts closed whenever anyone gets too close, the one he keeps tucked under his arm at all times; the one he’s inexplicably writing in, even if he’s blasted on Vernon’s weed. And it’s private and he’s somehow forgotten it.

“We’re not opening it,” you say immediately, power-walking back to your spot in the couch. Mingyu snaps his head towards you, and he almost looks offended at that. “What do you mean we’re not opening it, of course we’re opening it!” 

“It could be private, Gyu!” You retort and Seulgi chimes from her spot on the couch: “I’m with Y/n.” 

“No, what? Fuck you guys! We’re seeing what’s in that notebook!-” Irene spits. “Thank you!” Mingyu says.

“Yeri, it’s up to you,” you say, eyeing your roommate sharply, as you sit down again. The entire group turns to her, fury behind their retinas, and she gulps, shrinking a little. 

“Me, I just…” she shrugs abashedly and trails off. There’s a moment where you think she’ll side with you and leave the poor boy alone. You have some semblance of faith in your friendship, and maybe, maybe she’ll back you-

“He’s a music major, it’s probably just angsty lyrics, now open!” 

“Yes!” Irene and Mingyu gloat, and despite wanting to respect his privacy, you scoot closer to Mingyu (he scoffs at you, but does not mention it further, as he is itching with curiosity). With a solemn, heaved sigh, as if about to unfurl the world’s grandest mysteries, Mingyu’s large hand flips the book open.

There’s no justified way to put word to the shock that follows this. The first page reads:

“Girl Code Rule #1

Guys should bring flowers on the first date. Either lilies, roses or tulips. Depends on vibe.”

There’s a confused silence - as much as silence as you can get from a bass-boosted room of drunk college students. 

“What?” Irene quacks in disappointment, leaning closer to read it again. “Why-.. Go to the next page.” And Mingyu does, turning over the page and the next couple of pages follow suit. 

“Girl Code Rule #2

Whoever offered the date pays for dinner. First date should always be dinner, ‘none of the bowling crap’.

Girl Code Rule #3

Guys are more attractive the more hygienic they are.

Girl Code Rule #4 

It’s an ick to wear skinny jeans. *Google what an ick is.”

They come one after another, each more confusing than the last, and it’s not until number 5, that the heavy, suffocating spread of realization begins blooming among you. Clarity - your minds open like leaves of a flower in spring.

“Girl Code Rule #5

The cinema on Attacca street is a nightmare and we hate them. Never go there.”

“That’s-” you begin.

“Us!” Yeri finishes, pointing her finger at the page but directing her eyes, wide and pupils small from shock, towards you. The group exchange gaping glances. It’s undeniable - the cinema thing is relating to an incident that had happened months prior. You refuse to go into detail, but it had gotten grim.

“These are all things we’ve said!” Seulgi snatches the book out of Mingyu’s hold, beginning to mindlessly scroll through the book with furrowed brows, etch growing deeper and deeper in outrage. 

“That’s- This is crazy. That’s so not cool!” You shriek and Yeri nods in agreement: “Girl code is for girls only!” 

There’s a general agreement on the outrageousness of this. That is, except for one big boy on the couch.

“I meaaaan,” Mingyu is looking a little sheepish sitting in the middle of you and Yeri and Seulgi and Irene. All eyes flit towards him, small and sharp. He’s talking slowly, lowly and carefully:  “You guys have to have said it out loud while he was there, so you weren’t exactly being discreet…” 

“Men don’t usually listen to women, we thought we were in the clear!” Irene hisses.

“No man has ever listened to me in my entire life,” Seulgi deadpans, looking at Mingyu from beyond the book. Mingyu throws his hands out, incidentally hitting Yeri in the face, and ignoring her pained groans when she falls back on the couch. “I listened. Just now. Check that off your list-” 

“Why is he writing this down..?” You mumble, seemingly the only one grasping the gravity of the situation (although maybe there is none? You can never tell when it’s with him) and it truly is such a mystery. Was he attempting to pry open the minds of women? You don’t exactly think he has trouble finding dates, so you’re left a little at a loss. 

“Let’s ask him-” Mingu says.

“He just left, dumbass,” Irene spits and you can tell she’s almost disgusted with herself for ever siding with him.

“Let’s ask him tomorrow, then, after class,” you say decidedly. 

“Ugh, don’t talk about tomorrow..” Yeri groans, and you can see the regret settling in because why do all the hot guys throw weeknight parties? “Y/n, can we go home?” she asks and you’re nodding immediately.

“Seul?” 

“Yep.” 

And in the span of just a couple of seconds, your entire friend group is packing up, Seulgi stuffing the book into her tote bag. Mingyu’s still sitting, much smaller when you’re standing over him, and when he has that almost starstruck look on his face. “I’m so glad I’m a part of this, guys.” 

“You’re not.” 

“You’re not.” 

“Yes, I am,” Mingyu counters, clearly thinking otherwise. He’s grinning stupidly. “Hey, wait, where are we confronting him tomorrow?” he calls out suddenly, but you’re already on your way out.

“GUYS! WHERE ARE WE MEETING?”  _____________________________

You, Yeri, Seulgi, and Irene sit side by side on the middle-back row in class, eyeing Jihoon from the peaks. It’s a quiet, morning class, and the teacher rambles on while the four of you glare down at him. Or at least they glare. You hope it’s not noticeable how there’s something softer in your eyes - something almost tender. He’s fidgeting a little. Maybe he feels the pairs of eyes on the back of his black-buried head or maybe he’s noticed the book is gone and he feels the consequences coming.

It was certainly a strange situation to tackle. Mingyu did have a point, if it was a private conversation, you certainly had not discussed it as such. And even then, was there a crime in what he was doing? You just couldn’t understand how Jihoon possibly felt the need to garner all this information on women. He’d never had trouble picking up girls. You would know.

You shake the terrible, terrible thought away, when Irene speaks up: “The coward is all nervous.” 

“Okay, let’s calm down. We can’t know he’s an evildoer, before we find out his true intentions.” Seulgi reasons, a hand soothing over Irene’s arm. Yeri nods softly. “God, I wish class was over.” 

And suddenly it was. Well, twenty more minutes of suffering through a class that was totally lost, picked up by the pollen-saturated wind. Then the professor is excusing himself and wiping the board. 

Never in your life had your group been so fast at packing up their things, pencils and computers shoved down bags, before you’re strutting (model-walking) over to Jihoon. “We need to talk to you,” Yeri says, once she’s in front of his desk, hand on the wood. Jihoon looks up from where he’s packing his bag, eyes peeking through the thick strands of hair. He nods. He knows. 

As you wait for students to exit the class (Minghao giving Jihoon a confused grimace, before he squeezes out), you study Jihoon. He’s still sitting, and you’re all towering over him. His pale skin is glowing in the light and he purses his lip and bounces his leg - God, his thick leg - in nervous await. 

Students are slipping out the door in droves and when the last, tired body escapes, Seulgi reaches into her bag and pulls out the leather-bound book. “We read it.” 

“I figured,” he mutters. He’s avoiding your eyes, flinching a little when Irene slams her hand onto the book. “So, why have you been writing down the girl code?” 

Jihoon sighs. His lips make a tight line, and you can see how he wonders what to say. The pause would’ve been more tense had you not had the girls with you. 

“The girl code is for girls only,” Yeri supplies. 

“Well, you weren’t exactly being discreet about it-”

“Just answer the question, Jihoon!” Seulgi snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. “This is, like, top-level strange.” 

“Alright!” Jihoon throws his hands up in the air. His eyes flit to you, totally quiet and scratching your nails on the wooden table. You look away. He sighs a little. “I… It’s..” 

You almost want to hug him when he buries his face in his hands, tugging at the ends of his hair. 

“You can’t tell anyone.” 

The four of you exchange glances.

“We won’t.” 

He pauses.

“It’s.. IhaveacrushonthisgirlandIdon’twanttomessitup.” 

There’s a beat, where the information glides cooly into your skulls and you begin to process. Jihoon - cold, cynical, loner Jihoon - has a crush on a girl and is trying to improve himself for her? 

Holy hell.

“Jihoon!” cries Seulgi and Irene chimes in, equally as adoring and diffused: “That’s so cute, you should’ve just said something!” 

There’s an uproar of coos and cries and oohs and ahhs and compliments being thrown at Jihoon and he just sits there, cheeks blazing bright red, although with a little, shy smile on his lips. 

And then there’s you. It’s so dumb. Why can’t you help the slight disappointment that lowers on you, like the fog does in the blooming season? Why can’t you smile wider, happier for Jihoon? Why do you feel this way? Does it really take all this commotion for you to realize how much you want him? You half-smile and look at your shoes. Just as how your feelings blossomed like a flower in spring, you hope they, too, are destined to wither away once more. 

“Congratulations,” you say to him, giving him a dignified nod. Jihoon looks at you for a moment, before he smiles tightly and thanks you.

“Jihoon!” Yeri says, and you know you’re about to hate her for what comes next: “We can totally help you with the crush!” 

Jihoon’s eyes widen. “Really? I mean- you guys don’t have to-” 

“No, no! You can come to our girls’ nights and we can tell you everything!” Irene cuts in, nodding in reassurance. Jihoon smiles to himself a little sheepishly.

“Who is it?” Seulgi asks, and you can tell her heart is triple its usual size.

“I’m not telling you.” 

“Come on!” Seulgi begs, but Jihoon is steadfast. He gives her cheeky smile and shakes his head again. “No way. It’s my secret.” 

“We can keep a secret!” Yeri begs, bending her knees in plea. You, unusually quiet, speak up again: “We can.” 

There’s a pause while Jihoon looks at you again. He narrows his eyes and it’s almost like he’s trying to decode you. Maybe he’s noticed you’re just as quiet as he was, at that party. You hate yourself when your heart picks up at the thought of him caring about you. 

Suddenly he’s snapping out of it and smiling and shaking his ruffled head of hair again. “No. If girl code was supposed to be a secret, then I don’t even wanna think about telling you.”

This time there’s no talkback, only somewhat embarrassed nods.

“We deserve that.”  _____________________________

You come back to your dorm room that afternoon, and lie down in bed. Thoughts of Jihoon plague your mind and you feel disease-ridden, attempting to push away the thought with the same useless reminder: You should do your paper, gotta do your paper now, it’s due very soon…

But no matter how many times you tell yourself, you can’t overcome the crushing feeling in your chest, like your entire rib cage is being compressed. 

You know when these emotions started. It was at the Halloween party, six months ago, and Jihoon had been wearing a cop-outfit and you, with a more humorous approach, a lobster costume (Mingyu was a chef). Somehow, he’d still found you sexy though, because he was laughing in the bathroom of Seungcheol’s frat house, ripping the costume off of you. 

“I can’t believe I’m gonna fuck a lobster,” he’d said in between kisses, laughing again as he caught sight of the costume, discarded on the floor. You giggled. “Me neither. There are plenty of fish in the sea, you know?” 

And he’d thrown his head back, still with that black hair, still in that sexy fucking uniform, and his nose all scrunched and adam’s apple bopping in time with his joyful laughter. “Stop making me laugh while I’m trying to get you wet!” 

“I’m already wet,” you’d shrugged, “you’re hot.” 

And before you knew it you were handcuffed and he was rutting into you against the sink. His cock was disappearing and reappearing from your pussy, hooked onto him like a vice. Groaning and listening to your withheld moans, he’d left the most sinful hickies along your shining neck, while mumbling desperate praises to you: “You’re so pretty, N/n, letting me have you like this, so fucking hot.” 

You supposed you’d buried those feelings, because you felt so pathetic for catching feelings from a one night stand.

And it is pathetic. And you are pathetic, and desperate, and alone, and God, is it even Jihoon, or is it the way it suddenly feels like no one wants you? 

“Stop that,” Yeri says suddenly, lying on her bed on the opposite side of your room. You tilt your tired eyes towards her. “What?” 

“I can hear you thinking. What’s up?” She said nonchalantly, dropping her phone, that she’d been mindlessly scrolling through. Cheeks bunched up on your pillow and mascara smudging under your eyes, you look at her and sigh.

“Just tired,” you hum. _____________________________

Jihoon has been adopted. For a whole week following that incident, suddenly, your friends are taking him with them everywhere, and your safe space is invaded by his hair, his laugh, and his subtle cologne. It’s him with you during movie nights, it’s him during girls’ nights, and it’s him while you’re getting ready for a bar-night, all sitting in Irene and Seulgi’s pink-tastic room, doing makeup on the floor and on the desks and on the bed. 

“I love your eye makeup,” Seulgi says to Yeri (it’s a pink number with glittery inner corners), under eyes totally covered in white powder, as she’s baking her makeup. Jihoon is sitting on the floor, hair tied up in two pigtails that Irene had given him. “Thank you, Seul.”

You’re doing your own makeup, working blush into your cheeks and trying not to look at him, the way he’s half-lying on the carpeted floor, looking absentmindedly into his phone. His thighs are huge, and he’s wearing gray sweatpants, and you think you’re going insane.

Irene (who’s done with her makeup before anyone else, always) looks up from her own phone. She narrows her eyes deviously. “Jihoon, what do you think of Yeri’s makeup?” 

Jihoon snaps his head up, pigtails bouncing. “Uh,” he looks a little lost, when he turns his head over to Yeri, who smiles sheepishly, not totally understanding what was happening. “It’s nice.” 

“Just nice?” Irene smirks, and Jihoon finally seems to catch on to the fact that this is some sort of test. Indeed it was, and you knew it from the moment Irene began to talk. Your eyes flit between them, sitting behind you in the mirror. “Can you elaborate on that?” Irene smirks.

“It’s…” Jihoon considers what to respond, almost nervous. “She looks better without makeup.”

“Son, no!”

“Never!”

“Absolutely not!” 

It’s a cacophony from the girls, even a pillow is thrown at his head, which he dodges in shock. “Never say that to a girl, Jihoon! It’s rude!” Irene lectures, a finger pointedly thrown in his direction. When he doesn’t seem to get it, Yeri explains: “Imagine spending time on something, only for someone to say they’d wish you hadn’t done it all.” 

Jihoon, who’s been bristling like a disturbed cat up until now, softens in understanding. “Oh. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, our child, you’re learning,” Irene says, face turning back to her phone, as she apparently has lost interest in the conversation. 

You watch quietly with a bemused smile, having paused your ministrations on your face, brush held in the air before you. Jihoon’s eyes flicker over to you, an unreadable expression on his face. You meet his eyes in the mirror, pitch black and blank. You look away quickly.

You can feel him, still looking at you, and you feel self-conscious at the way you crooken your back to better focus on your face. What’s he thinking? That you look ugly? That your back is ugly? Your makeup?

“Are you okay, Y/n?” 

You freeze. His voice is soft as ever, and you understand now, better than ever, why he’s a music major, because it’s so melodious and sweet in your ears. All eyes in the room snap to you and you eye them all in the mirror. “Yep.” 

Yeri sighs, exasperated. “She’s been depresso for, like, a week.” 

“I’ve been fine,” you correct, smudging out the pencil on your lid. “I’ve been fineeee,” Yeri mocks, making her voice nasally and high. You glare at her through the mirror, but all she does is stick her tongue out at you. 

“I’m just stressed out, okay? I've got a lot on my plate,” you mumble bitterly, and it’s true, because every time you’re trying to do assignments, papers, write notes and focus in class, you think of him, and how he doesn’t want you. And one wrong thing leads to another, and then you’re thinking about how no one wants you, and you haven’t had a boyfriend since you entered college. And then it’s something about how you look, or it’s something about how you are, as a person, and you just sit at your desk with this terrible feeling in you gut, trying not to cry, or hoping that your sniffles don’t overpower Replay by Shinee blasting in Yeri’s headphones, as she’s eating crackers in bed, just a few feet away from you. 

“Just talk to us if you need anything, okay?” Seulgi frowns and you smile at her, hoping it looks convincing. She nods at you, turning back to her handheld mirror. But alas one person stays staring at you. You avoid his eyes, trying not to look like you’re about to cry.

“I can arrange a spa day? We can get our toes done,” Irene asks, and she wiggles her toes in the air for emphasis. “Ooo, yes!” Yeri exclaims. 

Finally, Jihoon’s attention is ripped from you, wincing at the thought of another person handling his feet. “Can I skip out on that, maybe?” 

Irene scratches her chin, pretending to think about it. Then she says, bluntly and directly: “Nah.” 

_____________________________

“Let me come with you to the spa!” 

“No! Jihoon, walk faster,” like a mother, Seulgi is grabbing Jihoon’s wrist and dragging him further from the tall, huge man behind you. Mingyu is following you all like a dog, whining and crying, and pouting. “Please, guys! I don’t wanna go with Seungcheol and Jeonghan, they’re mean!” 

“Spa day is for girls only!” Yeri yells over her shoulder, as the five of you stumble away from Mingyu, crying out to you. “What about him?” Mingyu yells and points. 

“Don’t listen to him, sweetie,” Seulgi tells Jihoon and he nods very seriously. “He’s our adopted son! Now shoo!” 

Finally Mingyu gives up the chase, and you disappear behind the outerwall, beginning down a busy street towards Irene’s favorite spa. “I don’t get how you’re friends with that guy,” Irene says, elbowing you, and you both snicker. “He’s a pup,” you shrug.

The streets are filled with people, the sun is shining, and it’s spring, and everything should be great, because you’re with your friends. But he’s here too. Swallowed up by his hoodie, pitch black in a sea of colors, he’s still here and his very presence has you tense, and yearning for the touch of a masseuse. The streets that had grown so familiar, that you thought you had learnt and mastered, had become so foreign, and you’re trying to escape into yourself, trying to find a backdoor out of the constant blabbering, teaching Jihoon the importance of gossip and female communication and companionship. These are your friends. The sadness eventually musters into frustration.

Soon enough, you’re sighing so hard you think your soul escapes with it through your mouth. A spa-worker begins massaging your feet, and working her thumbs into your sore soles. Irene laughs at your reaction, two seats over. “Told you all you needed was a spa day!” she beams. Yeah, a spa day and maybe a new friend group that wouldn’t adopt the guy who you should certainly not be around!

And speaking of him, he’s sitting in the chair right next to yours, grimacing and flinching back from the disdained worker. 

“What are you gonna tell her?” Yeri quips, smiling at the end of the row. Jihoon takes a second to snap out of his constant flinching, looking over at her nervously. “Oh, uh…” 

The girls are all looking at him expectantly, but you’re squeezing your eyes shut and wishing your ears could shut too. 

“Probably, like.. ‘Hey, I like you, would you maybe wanna go out on a date sometime?” 

“Pssh!”

“Absolutely not!”

“As if!” 

Jihoon is a little flabbergasted.

“Here’s what you’re actually gonna say,” Seulgi leans over in her chair towards him, directing him with a finger in her armrest. You hear Jihoon scramble in his chair, and you know he’s taking out that stupid notebook again.

Seulgi lowers her voice to mimic his, when she talks again: “‘Hi, crush, how are you?’ Wait for her response… Then: ‘I’ve always thought you were very beautiful. Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date, would that be okay with you?’ And be suave about it.” 

“HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH.”

Yeri and Irene burst into laughter, hitting the armrests of their chairs and covering their bright smiles with their hands. Even you snort in amusement. “What?!” Seulgi exclaims, outraged. “What’s so funny about that?” 

“Nothing, I just-...” Irene wafts herself, trying to ease away that tears of glee that spring in her eyes. “I can’t imagine any man, let alone our son, saying that to a woman.. Wow.” 

“It’s good! I would be flattered,” Seulgi defends herself viciously. Yeri snorts from her seat: “It’s not a drama, Seul!” 

“Well!” Seulgi scoffs, twisting her upper body to face Yeri now. “Maybe I would like my life to be a drama, thank you very much!” 

Their argument continues viciously, insults and laughter being thrown at each other left and right and you can almost begin to tune them own, letting the feeling of pads on your feet and a gentle, cool brush on the nail lure you to sleep.

Then there’s a hand on your forearm. You peek an eye open and see him - God, it just has to be him - leaning over his chair to gently grasp you. He looks at you through lashes, and he’s so sincere that it kills you when he says: “I can tell you’re not okay.” 

You’re a little taken aback, one second prior you were being lulled to sleep and now he’s talking to you, so low, so seriously, while the girls try to attack each other behind him. You wish your heart isn’t suddenly galloping, and you wish his warmth on your arm and radiating onto you isn’t so nauseating. “I-”

“Don't say you are, when you're not. You’re very obvious, you know?” he hums, smiling softly when he sees you flush from his intense gaze. You avert your eyes nervously. “Uhm. I just.. I don’t really want to talk about it, Hoon.” 

You flick your eyes back up to his to survey his reaction. His expression softens at the nickname, and he holds your gaze for a moment longer, before he nods in understanding, all the warmth of his closeness disappearing, when he sits back down in his seat.

“That’s okay,” he smiles at you in reassurance, and your heart leaps, and you can’t help but think that he doesn’t need anymore training to make his crush - whoever the lucky girl is - completely and totally happy for several lifetimes. 

He’s a beautiful, sun-beamed flower, where he sits, light flitting through the store-front windows. You’d be happy for several lifetimes. If only he wanted you. _____________________________

“What is going on?!” 

It’s Mingyu, and he’s somehow found you, as you’re trudging out of your latest class, suddenly hot on your trail and outraged about something or other. “What?” you mumble, heading to the cafe near the end of the hall.

“With Jihoon?! Why does he get to be your son when I don’t?!” Mingyu wafts his arms and pouts and you cringe, leaning away from his loud voice. “Ugh…” 

“I need to know why he was writing that girl code stuff, Y/n. Why is he suddenly allowed at girls’ nights, when I’ve been trying to get in for months?!” 

You take a turn into the cafe and sigh at how crowded it is, immediately placing yourself in line, Mingyu right behind you. “Calm down,” you say, just wanting a sandwich and maybe some peace and qui-

“I will not!” he snaps back, brows furrowed and a determined look on his face. You look up at him, pursing your lips in thought. Did Mingyu deserve to know? Maybe. He had been trying to get into girls’ nights forever, always going on about being ‘an honorary member’. 

“I’m not sure I can tell you- Hey, can I get a tuna sandwich, please?” You say, quickly turned to the clerk behind the counter. “I won’t tell anyone, pleaseee- Can you get me one of those too? Thanks.”

You’re handed your sandwiches, and you hold both of them, drifting over to a table by the window, both of Mingyu’s hands on your shoulders and his voice in your ear: “Please, please, please, pretty please with the sugar on top?”

You plop down in your seat, simply exasperated, and hand him his sandwich. He’s settling himself down when you answer: “Okay.”

“Yes!” Mingyu fists the air in victory, mumbling self-assured under his breath: “Begging always works.” You snort and take a big bite of your sandwich. 

“Stop eating and tell me!” he whines. “I’m hungry– Hey!” 

Mingyu snatches the sandwich right out of your hands and grins at you deviously, dancing with it. You hate him. You hate him, but it is a little endearing.

“Jihoon has a crush on some girl and he’s been writing down the girl code in an attempt to understand women,” you deadpan, and when Mingyu’s mouth and guard drops, you snatch your sandwich back and begin gulping down hungrily. 

“Are you shitting me?!” You shake your head.

“So, that's why he's allowed at girls’ night?” You nod your head. 

“So, that’s why you’ve been so down?” You almost choke on your food.

“What?” 

“Because you like him,” Mingyu says seriously and, with a totally stunned look on your face, you shark down the bits of sandwich in your mouth painfully. “How do you know that?!” you cry, head suddenly snapping in seventy different directions, relief washing over you, when none of your or Jihoon’s friends are around.

“Because you’ve been acting all weird around him since you fucked at Seungcheol’s Halloween party,” Mingyu shrugs. You wave your arms wildly.

“How do you know that?!” Whining, you throw yourself back in your seat, and bury your head in your hands. This couldn’t be happening. Your delicate secret, the one that could have - should have - simply faded away into summer, was now out and open, and you look out the window, and it’s spring.

“I know everything,” Mingu says ominously, giggling evilly.

“Mingyu, I will fucking kill you.”

“Fine! I needed to pee and you guys were super loud,” Mingyu pouts and takes a bite of his own sandwich. “No need to be so rude.” 

“I can’t believe you know,” you groan, head collapsing on the table. Mingyu, forever and always silly, finally softens and frowns. You’re scattered. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“No,” you say. Then, a moment later (in true Girl Code fashion) you’re lifting your head from the table and burying it in your hands: “I just. I don’t know, Mingyu. I feel so pathetic for liking him after a one night stand! And now he’s doing all this for another woman and he’s with us all the time…I haven’t had a boyfriend in college, Mingyu. I just feel so…” There’s a pause, when you’re trying to find the right word, and Mingyu stops breathing, looking at you and fearing the worst. Then comes the word, ripping itself from your lips:

“Unlovable.” 

Mingyu’s frown deepens. Big, puppy Mingyu who’s always silly and happy, just slumps in on himself. “You’re not unlovable,” he mumbles, sounding genuinely disbelieving. You scoff.

“Thanks, Mingyu, it’s just.. That’s how it feels,” you admit, running a hand through your hair and looking at your half-eaten sandwich on the table. Mingyu’s quiet for a moment. When he speaks up again, he’s determined, and you can discern almost immediately that there’s no escaping this plan. Or he’ll for God’s sake start begging again.

“I’m going to wingman you,” he’s nodding to himself, and you can see the plan falling into place in his head, “I’m gonna wingman you and set you up with my friend at the party on Saturday!” 

“Please, don’t,” you groan half-heartedly, but a piece of you brightens with hope, with summer, like maybe this was the thing you needed to get over your schoolgirl-crush on Jihoon.

“No,” Mingyu responds simply. “This is happening.”  _____________________________

Indeed, it is happening. 

The frat house is practically bumping with each beat of whatever pop song is playing over the speakers, and you lean into the rhythm that reverberates in the kitchen table beneath your fingers.

You somewhat wish that you hadn’t been as excited for this as you were, that you hadn’t spent hours picking out the perfect pink dress and doing your makeup, and that you aren’t hopelessly dependant on Mingyu (of all people) to find you a fuck. But you are. Putting on that dress and hoop earrings and doing your hair and declining Yeri’s invitation to the girls’ (and Jihoon’s) pre-party, you feel like you’re scrambling, like constantly falling through the air, flailing for something to ground yourself on. 

Now, scanning over the tinted lights and the dancing people and feeling the slight, warm buzz of vodka in your blood, you know you need this. And still, you combat that slight anxiety, the insecurity that you hadn’t felt in years - what if Mingyu couldn’t find a single guy that wanted you? 

Mingyu doesn’t seem worried though.

“Okay! We just gotta figure out who to set you up with. Take your pick,” he places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing and gauging your reaction. Your brows furrow as you shrug. Somehow, even when half the guys are objectively hot, you can’t say you find yourself drawn to any of them. You don’t linger on the feeling, fearful that maybe you’ll realize all the things they’re missing, the things they’re falling short of, are just Jihoon’s traits. “I don’t know, man. I just-..” 

Mingyu senses your struggle and elects to give you his excellent guidance. “Alright, well you could do Joshua?” He’s pointing somewhere in the crowd, and sure enough, you notice Joshua, majoring in communications or something like that. “He’s a star: total hottie, super smart, sweet and considerate, and-” 

“And he fucked Yeri,” you deadpan, head lolling over to look at Mingyu disapprovingly. Mingyu’s mouth falls open: “What?!”

“Yeah, like, two months ago!” you argue, wafting your hands. Mingyu’s mouth stays open, and he’s seemingly totally appalled by this. 

“What?! Okay- nevermind. How about him?” He points his long limbs again, and this time you notice- 

You narrow your eyes confusedly. Hopefully Mingyu was not trying to set you up with the biggest player in your year? “Jeonghan?!” 

“What? No, the guy beside him, dickwad,” he playfully smacks the side of your head as you refocus your eyes. Indeed, a blonde guy is standing next to Jeonghan, seemingly whining at him. “Who’s he?” 

“Lee Chan. Super sweet, great bod, a little dumb, but very doting-” 

“Is he a freshman?!” you cry, almost as if it were a crime. Mingyu huffs. “You’re not making this easy, you know?!” 

“I’m not dating or fucking a freshman,” you cross your arms and Mingyu senses the air of finality in your words. He sighs, slumping behind you for a moment, before he spots something across the room.

“Wonwoo! What about him?” he doesn’t even bother pointing at this point, simply tilts your head towards the man, who was currently talking to Seungcheol a little ways from the kitchen. You spot him. You suppose you’d always been a little curious about Wonwoo. From what you’d seen of him in passing, he was sweet and polite, absolutely gorgeous and extremely smart. You nod solemnly.

“I could- I could see that,” you say and Mingyu’s eyes light up. He bounces victoriously, punching the air. “He’s great, you’re- you’re gonna love him,” Mingyu delights and before you can even get another word in, Mingyu’s yelling across the room: “Hey, Wonwoo! Wonwoo, scootch over here!”  

Your eyes widen in shock. “Wha- we’re doing this now? Just, on the fly? No warning?” 

“It’s fine,” Mingyu waves you off, eyes trained on where Wonwoo is now walking towards you. 

“Do I look okay?” your voice is wavering nervously. You still can’t help how you feel, even in your dress and your makeup. Where had all your confidence gone? The confidence with which you’d literally fucked Jihoon in a lobster-costume? Even the thought of him stings. Mingyu’s confident facade falters for only a split second at the vulnerability in your tone. His gaze softens and he looks at you: “You look great, N/n. Calm down, Wonwoo’s super nice.” 

“Hey, Gyu,” Wonwoo’s voice is cool, as he approaches Mingyu. Standing in front of you and Mingyu, he briefly scans you, then acknowledges you with a nod and a sweet smile. “Wonwoo, hey, you know, I was just wondering if you’ve already done the history paper?” 

Wonwoo is unamused. “I’m not doing your paper again, Mingyu.” 

“Oh well, shucks, that’s simply too bad,” Mingyu (poorly) feigns annoyance and defeat, before he’s grabbing your shoulder. “Anyway, Wonwoo, have you met my very good friend, Y/n?” 

You fake a smile, hoping the absolute pain of the current interaction was not showing on your face. If you’d known Mingyu was this bad at wing-manning, you would’ve gladly put up with his begging instead. You want to crawl into a hole and die, because based on Wonwoo’s smug smile, he has a pretty good understanding of what’s happening.

“Whoops, look at the time!” Mingyu looks at his wrist. He is not wearing a watch. “Damn, I guess I gotta go and- and leave my two good friends alone with each other, such a shame, uh, anyway!” As he speaks he backs further and further from you, trying to ignore the glare in your eyes, before he’s bolting at his last word. 

There’s an awkward silence as soon as Mingyu’s gone. You feel like an unshelled turtle. You purse your lips and stare at your heel-clad feet. 

“So, Mingyu was trying to wingman you?” Wonwoo’s voice is deep and bemused. You look at him in horror, trying to think of a way to salvage the situation.

“Yeah,” your breathe, and he immediately begins laughing. “Sorry about that, he was- he was just trying to be helpful, although it’s hard to defend him right now.” 

“He’s wingmanned me before, too,” Wonwoo muses and, thank God, this was actually a good thing. You find a balance on the common ground. “Really?” you grin, looking up at him.

“Yep,” Wonwoo admits, “safe to say I did not get my dick wet.” 

You laugh hard, and it feels like a switch has flipped inside you, restarting your joy-generator, because you’re laughing and hitting Wonwoo’s arm, and he’s smiling because he’s just made a pretty girl laugh. 

“He’s so bad!” you say when you’re done laughing. “Everytime!” Wonwoo drawls, “Everytime he pulls that shit and he’s never wearing a watch!” 

You and Wonwoo laugh together, throwing (good-hearted) snarky comments about Mingyu around, and your cheeks are rosy and shining in the kitchen-light. Finally, party still bumpin’ and pumpin’ in the near distance, your laughter dies down and you’re both half-leaning against the counter. Wonwoo looks down at you with a smug smile. 

“What?” you ask, growing insecure again under his gaze. He hums.

“So you asked for me?” 

“Hm?” 

“When Mingyu was wingmanning you,” Wonwoo reminded you, tilting his head. “You asked for me?” 

“I-” you stutter, and your heart clenches nervously, because if things had been right, if things were different at least, you would have asked for Jihoon. It’s this gut-punching guilt. It feels wrong to use him, Wonwoo, to overcome Jihoon. “He was laying down my options.” 

“Options?” Wonwoo quips, brow raised questioningly, but he doesn’t interrogate further. Instead, he leans his head down, so he’s much, much closer to you, breathing hitting your face when he whispers: “But you wanted to fuck me. Isn’t that right?” 

You gulp. His presence is almost suffocating. Avoiding his eyes, you flicker them onto the dancefloor, where- 

Where Jihoon is storming out of the house. 

You squeeze your eyes shut - something Wonwoo thinks is out of embarrassment, from the question he’s just asked you - and try to refocus on Wonwoo. Try to ignore how the thoughts about Jihoon come bubbling in your head. It was probably something with his crush. You want to do nothing more than comfort him, hold him, steal away every bad thought he may ever have. 

You open your eyes, hoping that somehow seeing Wonwoo’s face would fill you with a need for him - him, and not Jihoon - but seeing him in the low lighting only serves as a reminder that Wonwoo is not him. 

“I’m- I’m so sorry, Wonwoo. I gotta go. I’m really, really sorry-” you say suddenly, and immediately you’re scurrying towards the door. Wonwoo frowns, eyes following you in your path. “Did I- Did I make you uncomfortable?” 

“No, you were hot!” you say absent-mindedly, before you’re disappearing into the entrance, and then further along, out the door.

Wonwoo stands alone at the counter, still somewhat leaned towards your ghost in front of him, and shakes his head in confusion. “What the fuck?”  _____________________________

“Jihoon?” 

You exit just in time to see him, stomping on the other side of the road, armless denim jacket wafting in the wind. It’s spring, just warm enough that you’re not freezing, but still cold enough that you curl your arms around yourself. Your hair blows gently. It smells distantly like flowers. 

He turns around at your voice. When he does, you know your suspicions were right. He looks so defeated. His gorgeous long hair, that usually only makes you clench your thighs together, is limp and drags him downwards. His arms hang similarly at his sides, fists clenched at the bottom, causing veins to ripple along the forearms. He stands just below a street light, spot-lighted, as if on a stage.

“Leave me alone!” he yells out to you across the road, voice breaking halfway. This does nothing to dampen his demeanor - this tough front, this anger he suddenly carries. You still in the grass beside the road, looking at him pleadingly. He can’t hold your gaze.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, Jihoon,” you begin, choosing your words carefully. “But I can just.. Support you. You don’t have to be alone right now.” 

This almost seems to piss him off more, clenching his jaw, sharply defined by the harsh shadows, and steering his head away from you, like a sunflower following the sun in the sky. It hurts your heart. The way he almost seems angry with you. And yet again you’re made to feel pathetic for following him out here. Like you’re on your knees and he’s standing there in front of you, spitting on you. Why does it hurt so much? You almost wish you’d stayed with Wonwoo - that you’d followed him to his room and let him fuck you and pretended you weren’t thinking about him the entire time.

“Shouldn’t you go back inside?” he’s prickling with hostility. “You seemed like you were having a good time.”

“Jihoon,” you say breathlessly. “None of us is having a good time if you’re not.” 

Whatever cog you unturned, whatever screw you unscrewed, Jihoon’s tightly wound posture unwinds, and he softens and withers before you, one hand clamping over his eyes. You take this as a sign to move towards him, heels clicking on the asphalt warning him of your advance. It’s deadly quiet, save for the heartbeat of the frat house behind you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, finally lowering his hand and looking at you. You smile sympathetically, relief flooding you, when he lets you gently place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.” 

The two of you begin to walk in silence, and you recognize it as the path that leads back to the dormitory. It’s calm, steps becoming rhythmic and breeze easing your muscles with its cool touch. You study his face as it’s lit and unlit by the systemic presence of street lights. You’re able to put your own feelings aside for him, to be a martyr, and to sacrifice yourself to comfort him. It feels like cutting your own throat to talk to him about another woman, a woman he loves, truly, but you know it must be done.

“So,” you muster finally. “What happened in there?” 

He scoffs bitterly, looking at the pavement underneath his shoes. You frown. “Nothing happened.” 

“Nothing?” you repeat, a little confused.

“I didn’t tell her.” 

“Oh.” 

You’re honestly not the best comforter, you realize, cringing and hoping you’re not making it worse by talking to him about it. You see the faint outline of the dormitory at the end of the street. 

“Why not?” you quip quietly. His mouth makes a tight line. He breathes out shakily, and you fear you’re riling him up again by asking further.

“She was talking to some other guy,” Jihoon says, eyes flitting to yours before immediately ducking back to the pavement. You furrow your brows. Could it be you? That thought nurtures the spring garden in your stomach, the one you’d been trying to kill. But the insecurity that had come with it, and with him, only manages to squander that light.

“I’m sorry that happened,” you say softly, hand finding his arm, but he pulls it away from you immediately. Ouch. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles without humor. 

Finally, you decide to just shut up, to stop pushing him when he’s so vulnerable, but this time it’s Jihoon who doesn’t stop speaking. “You know,” he begins and again he’s laughing, but you can tell it’s only a cheap plaster for the pain in his voice, “I’d memorized that- that confession thing Seulgi made. And I followed all the- the style advice and the-” his voice breaks and he hisses at how pathetic it sounds. “Everything. I did everything,” he summarizes finally and when you look you see orbs of tears forming at his waterline, like the dew drops that sparkle on leaves in spring. 

You don’t know what to say. It’s almost too hard to see him like this. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, but Jihoon shakes his head.

“Stop saying that,” his voice is harsher, groggier, thick and stained by the sobs in his throat. You pause your steps. You’re standing in the yard outside the dormitory now. Hundreds of windows become an audience to where you now stand before each other. 

“Why?” you ask. 

“Because-” he wipes the tears away aggressively, composing himself before he finally, finally looks at you. “Because you’re gonna make me think that you actually care.” His voice is suddenly laced with venom again. The hostility that you’d tamed returns and it’s so much stronger, more bitter. You’re taken aback.

“I-I do care? Why do you think I don’t care-” 

“Oh, please, Y/n. You didn’t want me at your girls’ nights or at spa day or fucking whatever. You didn’t- You don’t care about my book or my crush or my-” 

“I do care!” you interrupt, voice stern and much louder. “What, you think I follow you out of parties for fun? Because I don’t care about you? And yeah, maybe I didn’t want you at the girls’ nights, but what does that matter-” 

“It matters because!–” he stops himself in his tracks, hand coming out to halt you. “Fuck it, wait here,” he orders, and suddenly he is trudging into the darkness of the courtyard. You stand still, flabbergasted, and thoroughly confused. It’s so dark you can’t even see what he’s doing, only hear him in the dirt, silhouette blending into the shadows. Then, he’s walking back to you and you finally see him. 

There are flowers in his hands. 

It’s a makeshift bouquet, held tightly in between his veiny, pale hands, consisting of flowers that grow in the courtyard, red, yellow and lilac. It’s a slow-burning realization as he stands himself before you, looking into your eyes with a sincerity that is laced with pain. You know this part of the girl code. 

“Hi, Y/n, how are you?” he breathes, and his voice is shaking and he’s looking at you and practically begging you to play along - to indulge him, even if you would turn your back on him. You can hardly register anything but him and those flowers, because your surroundings, the moon, the stars, the shadows and the streets are overpowered by the blooming in your chest. A single flower unfurls the pedals of your heart until you are open before him. You meet his eyes.

“I’m good.” 

He nods. 

“I’ve always thought you were very beautiful,” it almost seems like it physically pains him to admit these breathless feelings. “Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date,” another pained, gulping pause. “Would that be okay with you?”

It’s as if time has stopped in this moment; how his chest rises and falls under his shirt, how his hair gently nuzzles his face, how his eyes blear out at you from underneath his bangs, how he glows in the moonlight, and how his hands shake around the stems of the flowers. 

“Was I..” his voice is hoarse, “Was I suave about it?” 

“Yes,” is all you can manage, because all those flowers that you had stomped into a half-death were coming alive again and this time it was more than welcome.

“Yes?” 

“Yes, you can take me on a date,” you break into a wide smile and, upon realizing you probably look like an idiot, you lower your gaze and your warm, shining cheeks to the pavement. He gasps, and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever heard.

“But- you and Wonwoo-?” 

“Do you wanna know why I was even talking to Wonwoo?” you ask, and when you meet his eyes again, he’s also smiling. You can’t help but reach out a hand to wrap around one of his, still frozen in holding the flowers. He quickly maneuvers the bouquet to the other hand and intertwines your fingers. Your heart soars. “Mingyu found out that I was sad because you had a crush on someone - I didn’t think it was me, you know? So he promised to wingman me at this party.” 

“Son of a bitch,” Jihoon whispers, and you laugh, feeling so floaty and lovely. “Don’t call him that,” you say, but Jihoon only smiles cheekily, eyes matching the crescent moon in the sky above you.

“No, I meant me,” he says. He looks down at the flowers and frowns. “Is that why you were so quiet? On girls night?” 

You nod and he sighs. “I’m such an idiot.” 

“No, you’re not. You’re so sweet,” you say genuinely, and Jihoon nearly melts at how much you mean it. There’s something so wonderful about the way all the words, that he would never use to describe himself, float around your head and sparkle in your eyes in this moment, looking up at him.

Jihoon needs to kiss you.  He’s not sure he’s ever needed anything as badly. He rips his free hand from yours only to place it tenderly against your cheek, pulling your face and your warmth into him, bouquet held out at his side to allow you snugly in his chest. 

His lips are so soft and his nose nuzzles your own, plush hair tickling your forehead, and his huffed out breaths dance along your cheeks. Your lips mod perfectly, unlocking the shackles with which that earth-shattering yearning had held onto you. The world is anguish but will momentarily and suddenly be interrupted,  cleaved apart with a sudden gash, by a planet-killer: love. 

You truly don’t mean to make it heated, hell, you’d be content just kissing him forever, feeling how his tongue prods at your lips and meets your own, but his sculpted chest under your fingers draws out a pathetic moan. His eyebrows spring up and he pulls back to look at you. You blush under his gaze, fiddling with your dress.

“Holy fuck, that was so fucking hot,” he gasps, lips swollen from your insistent sucking on them, panting into the night air. You brighten at his compliment. “Inside. Now. To my room.” 

“You know, girl code says to not have sex before on the third date,” you say smugly, unprepared when his free hand pushes you back into his chest, and his lips drag over half of your face, finding home at your ear. His voice is a growl: “Fuck. Girl code.” 

He begins a somewhat dramatic march to the front door and you can’t help but run after him, taking his hand, and seeing how he smiles at that feeling. He looks so happy. Your heart skips a beat, because it’s you - you’re the one making him so happy. 

And he’s so hot, it’s all you can think about as he drags you along the corridors, how nice his arms look in the sleeves denim, how pretty his hair is, his fucking face, and the chest you just barely felt under your fingertips. You’re watching doors pass in a monotonous routine, jittery and unable to wait for the one that might be his, for him to take you through it, and for you to bloom, totally and perfectly under him.

“Fucking finally,” he breathes, voice gruff and much lower than you’re used to when he stops at his door, fishing for his keys in his pocket. It enters the lock and with a click, everything you fantasized about is opening to you. 

As soon as you’re inside, he’s kicking the door shut and pushing you against the wall, nails gripping into your dress, when he finally drops the makeshift bouquet on his nightstand. He cries out into your mouth at the way your chest bounces from the impact, immediately capturing your lips in his again. 

You can’t help the way you’re tugging at his hair, trying to ground yourself in the feeling of him, when he shoves a thigh between your legs. You moan into his mouth, rutting into him, while his wandering hands pull your skirt up you to pool around your waist. He pulls back to look at you, how your hips cant into his strong, big thigh, and how your pink, lacey panties cling to your wet pussy. 

“Off,” he mumbles, apparently having decided that the simple tugging of the fabric of your dress won’t be enough. You turn around in a daze, not even uttering a word, simply shoving the zipper at the back of it. 

Jihoon groans, he has to, seeing the way you stick out your ass to him, while your hand lay flat on the wall. You shake your hips teasingly at him, and his hands float to your ass, petting it and squeezing it in his fingers, and biting his lips because it looks so fucking good and plump, and there’s a wet spot in your panties. He grabs your hips and rubs his dick into you. You gasp at the feeling, nails scratching against the wall.

“You make me so hard, baby,” he says breathlessly, unable to help himself humping against you, pre-cum spilling from his tip. “Shit,” he grunts, and you’re squeezing your eyes closed at the outline of his dick pressing into your pussy. 

Finally Jihoon collects himself and his cold hands drag the zipper down. The top of your dress loosens and slides down your shoulders, where Jihoon aids you in slipping it off. His hands spin you around, finally taking a breath to marvel your bare chest in front of him. 

You blush, suddenly so bashful, when just before you were wiggling your ass at him. You curl your arms over your chest, but Jihoon’s own come to stop them. “No, no, no, no,” he tuts, almost sad, “why are you doing that?” 

You don’t answer immediately, but apparently it’s not a rhetorical question. His hands intertwine with yours to prevent you from covering yourself up. “Uh, I don’t know,” you stammer sheepishly, “I don’t wanna, like, kill the mood or any-” 

“You’re not killing the mood, pretty,” Jihoon whispers so, so achingly sincere and your heart hurts. 

“Sorry, it was just-” 

“Don’t say sorry,” he lectures, interrupting again. He tilts his head and he looks at you with a flaming intensity. “Try again.” 

You pause, flustered out of your mind.

“I-I’ve just been feeling a little insecure lately, I guess,” you say and you’re positive your face is beet-red, but if it is Jihoon says nothing, only pouts and releases one hand only to direct your eyes back to his with a hand on your chin. 

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n,” he says and even when you seek it out, you can’t find even the slightest hint of lying in his voice. “I want to show you, but I can’t do that if you cover up. Understand?” 

You nod, lips breaking into a little smile, that his heart becomes hot like the spring-sunshine. “Okay,” you say and he smiles brightly, releasing your chin from between his fingers. 

He guides you onto the bed, but it’s no longer heated and rushed, it’s so soft and gentle, and he pulls off your underwear only after you whisper in agreement, and then he lowers himself into it, again, only allowing himself the pleasure when you whisper a strained yes and nod vigorously. 

He fully makes out with your pussy - his lips are wrapped around your clit, licking and sucking it, and fucking moaning into it, sending vibration straight to the coil in your stomach. You’re moaning so loud, broken cries bouncing off the walls, while your finger wrap into his hair and your legs thrash. His tongue flattens against your folds, then dips down to trail around your slit. 

“Jihoon!” you cry, hips bucking into his mouth. He groans again, releasing your pussy with a soft pop. “Fuck, baby, keep saying my name like that.” And then his face disappears in your pussy again.

And you do, everytime his nips and gums on your sensitive folds, tongue trailing back up to your nub to fully envelop it. He sucks, hard. And you think you might cum the second you look at him, because the image of his full head of hair buried in between your legs and lapping like a starved man is so pornographic, your head spins.

He might go insane from just the taste of you, he realizes, because even when you cry that you’re cumming, and your legs shake around his head and your pussy is soaked with your cum, he can’t bring himself to pull away, strong arms wrapping around stomach to still you as you begin to wiggle from the feeling of his tongue just continuing to lap at you.

“Jihoon! Fuck, t-too much,” you whimper and the sound shoots straight to his cock. He finally pulls away, eyes still trained on your pretty cunt, and the way it clenches around nothing. “Clenching so hard, sweetheart, only for there to be nothing, shouldn’t we fix that?” he hums, leaning down to trail his finger through your folds, gathering your wetness on its tip.

You whimper uncertainly, when he crawls back over your body, hair tickling your face when hovers just above you and he shushes your pathetic squeaks. He pushes the wet finger into your mouth and you suck obediently. “Shh, baby, just taste yourself on my finger, how can you be insecure with a pussy like that, hm?” 

You cry around his single digit, tongue sliding over it eagerly. He wants to fuck your face, the way your pretty, plump lips wrap around his finger, but he’ll save that for another time. “Shh, baby, I know. You’ll be stuffed full of cock soon, don’t worry,” he rasps soothingly, and slips his drenched finger from your mouth. 

Finally, he rips the denim jacket off, white tee following soon after, and you’re left, mouth gaping, at the how toned his stomach is, how big his pecs are and how fucking thick his arms are at his side. 

“You’re so fucking hoot, Hoonie,” you drawl, making grabby hands to urge him back to you. He smiles at those words, even gains a small dusting of pink on his cheeks, but he shakes his head. “Gotta get my pants off, baby.” 

“Hurry up,” you grin playfully, and he scoffs at you from where he stands, pants and boxers coming off in one fell swoop. “So needy,” he mumbles to himself, but you can tell by the overjoyed expression on his face, that he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. 

His cock is finally freed, and your eyes float to it, drinking in the sight of him. He’s so pretty and so red, and a single vein creeps up its curved surface towards the oozing head. You gulp, eyes sparkling. 

“Wan’ it in my mouth,” you mumble, where you’re now half sitting up and glowing from your first orgasm. Jihoon looks at you and laughs, as he climbs on top of you again. 

His face hovers over yours, finger carding through your hair tenderly. He looks in your eyes. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah.” 

He coos at you, eyes flickering to your lips for a moment, and you feel his cock twitch where it rests heavily on your stomach. “Not right now, pretty, I wanna fuck you.” 

“You don’t have to cum-” you reason, mouth practically watering at the thought of having him in your mouth. He stops you though, hand still brushing through your hair, so delicately, as if you were a lily, or a rose, or a tulip.

“I’m not gonna be able to hold back if you look at me like that with my fucking cock in your mouth,” he whispers, and it’s so intimate, despite being so vulgar. How warm you both are, naked and holding onto each other and his dick is oozing onto your stomach and your pussy is leaking onto his sheets. “Like that,” Jihoon emphasizes, when you look up at him adoringly. You smile. 

“Okay,” you say, a determined look on your face, “later then.” 

He laughs. “Eager baby. Relax, you’re gonna get a pussy full of cock now, your mouth can wait.” 

You wanna retort, say something snarky, anything, but you’re abruptly interrupted by the feeling of his cock pushing into you. You moan and your nails claw at his back, because it’s so big and so raw in your pussy, you feel that fucking vein dragging against your walls. “Shit, Hoonie. Fuck, fuck.” 

He’s groaning too, hands on your waist and face in your neck. “So fucking tight, so pretty.” 

You’re both panting when his cock is fully nestled inside you, sitting snug against your walls. You look up at him and he’s pretty, all flushed and lips swollen, and the sight makes you clench. He hisses, jerking abruptly, making the both of you moan. 

“Fuck, baby, can’t just clench on me like tha-” 

“Please, please, just fuck me now, can’t wait anymore!” you cry, clawing at him, nails raking over his flexed biceps, where he holds onto you. And he can’t help but fulfill your wish.

You honestly don’t know where he gets his stamina, because the second you’re done asking, he’s ramming into you so hard and so fast, your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open in a long whine. The whole bed is shaking from the impact, as his hips sheath and unsheath from your warm, welcoming pussy. 

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he drawls, hands trailing up from your waist to your bouncing chest, thumbing over your nipples. “Bet Wonwoo wishes he got to see you like this, hm?” 

The way your pussy has his cock in a chokehold, the way you’re lying beneath, it has him fully dazed, and now he babbles all that comes to mind. “Yeah, but you’re mine, princess. No one else gets to see you like this, no one else can have you crying like this for their cock, right?” 

“N-No one else,” you whimper, sopping cunt clenching and unclenching around his dick. “That’s right,” he pants, humid breath on your cheek, “Say you’re mine, pretty girl, say you’re fucking mine.” 

“A-ah, ‘m yours, Hoonie,” you cry and he thinks he might cum just like that, at your blissed face, glowing beneath him, and your pussy sucking him in, and you obeying him thoughtlessly. 

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he rewards you by dragging his hand down your stomach to rub your clit. Your whole body convulses into his, hands dragging over his big arms for support. “Come on, sweetheart, cum on my cock now.” 

And you do, the tension in your stomach tightening beyond what you can take, before it finally unfurls, and it blooms, and it’s spring, and your squirting all over Jihoon’s abs, because God, he’s so fucking hot and he fucks you silly with his dumb, big muscles and his dumb, cute face.

The sight of your squirting, thrashing and shaking underneath him is all he needs. Jihoon shoots you full of his cum, making you feel so full and wet, before he finally halts his rutting hips, stilling on top of you. 

You’re both panting. You’re sweating so much, your hair sticks to your forehead, and you’re gasping for air. Jihoon is still on top of you, holding himself up somehow, and licking at your neck appreciatively. 

There’s a pause, where you’re basking in each other's warmth, and there’s so much love between you it’s almost suffocating. Then you're narrowing your eyes at the head of hair in your neck, growing suspicious. 

“... Are you still hard?” 

He laughs into your neck, peering up at you with a sheepish smile.

“Are you still open to that dick-sucking thing?” _____________________________

“So,” Yeri trails off.

You’re sitting in front of her, Seulgi and Irene at the campus cafe after a thorough round of congratulating you and Jihoon’s new relationship. They’d been both surprised and somehow not-at-all-surprised. 

“He can’t come to girls night anymore,” Irene states the obvious, and immediately you, Seulgi and Yeri are nodding along. 

“Thank God, I wasn’t the only one thinking that.” 

“It just wouldn’t work,” you supply, agreeing. 

There’s a pause. Seulgi pouts. “I can’t believe we don’t have a son anymore. They grow up so fast,” she says and she sounds genuinely sad about it.

You sigh a little, debating whether or not to play this card. Then you say: “I know someone who would like to be our son.” 

“Oh, no..”

“Don’t say..” 

“Yep,” you shrug, and then you hear him. Lumbering clumsily down the hall, like a galloping horse. 

“I HEAR THERE’S A NEW POSITION OPEN DURING GIRLS NIGHTS!!!!! I MADE MUFFINS!!”

Mingu is running through the cafe, dodging stools and chairs like he’s on Ninja Warrior. 

Irene frowns. “I guess he’ll do as our new son.” 

“We can always kick him out if he gets too annoying,” Yeri shrugs, just in time for Mingyu to stand before your table with a fresh tray of muffins. 

“Yes!” he cries with glee, voice incredibly high because he just can’t believe it.

“Begging always works!”

[princesssmars]

unexpected

an ellabs x black!streamer!reader

some times your viewers expect you're in a relationship, and one time you spell it out clearly for them.

wc : 1.860

contains : reader is feminine ! the picture is more lightskin but all shades can read <333 ltlvc reference

a/n : coming up with chat usernames is so hard what the fawk??? but yeah while i ignore trolls the ones under these tags were pissing me off so i wrote this for my fellow black girlies <333 i hope u enjoy :)

lets get one thing out of the way, you loved being a streamer. now that you had a good following of a few thousand regular watchers, you were more than financially stable, got to do something you enjoyed as a job, and even made a few new streaming friends.

but when it came to those friends, every content creator knew simple friendships could stir up drama. you had heard of many cases of friendships being strained or ruined because of this job. more specifically because of the fans.

which is why you took an oath to leave finer details like relationships out of your work. if you did tell a story about that time you and your friends nearly got kicked out of a local mall's journey's, you would keep descriptions of friends brief and blank, even resorting to calling people "friend number one, friend number two..."

luckily most of your fans were more than understanding that you wanted to keep some of your life private.

most of them.

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case one : the first p.o. box

it was another po box opening stream you decided to start early in the day, wanting to show and appreciate chat with the things they got for you.

lululemonsz : babe i hope its a new keyboard urs is on a iv drip !

wariolover96 : open it open the box OPEN IT

shelovedantee : damn is there a bomb in it hurry up

you laughed looking at all the people in chat begging you to open the current package in your hand.

"everybody chill out. look, im gonna open the first one now."

you quickly got a pair of scissors to cut off the packing tape on both ends, hurrying to pull the cardboard from its place.

the chat started speeding up when your mouth fell open in shock, slowly reaching in and pulling out the keyboard. it was sleek, mechanical, and your favorite color.

biiiigpoo : omg isnt that thing like $250?

lululemonsz : this as the first gift is CRAZY

ilovestardewmc1237 : one of your viewers is in love with you

you couldn't even respond, turning the keyboard over and back again to admire the details of it. out of the corner of your eye you spot a little yellow sticky note at the bottom, bringing it up to read it without letting the camera see. once you got to the end, your eyes widened and you quickly moved on to the next gifts.

but the light reflecting from your window and monitor was enough for chat to see a few letters on the note. after that, your fandom quickly began talking of a person named "A" who had not only the money to get you crazy expensive keyboards, but was also able to fluster you with a small note.

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case two : the search history.

every so often, your mods would host little events on your stream. these could include giveaways, shitty chat therapy, and little games for everyone to play. today it was a challenege : the more bits people donated, the crazier stuff you had to do for them. it was all pretty tame, and the end goal was one you didnt think you'd manage to hit.

never doubt the power of charisma and a pretty face, because after only three hours you manged to reach that two thousand dollar mark, and chat was raving at what you'd have to reveal next : your search history.

ariagatorr : damn this lowkey invasive 💀

devonchcgo22 : and we dont give a fuck

plantsnparsnip : right open that shit up

"i hate yall, do you know that? like genuinely." you groaned, slowly movied your mouse to open your chrome history.

there wasn't much for chat to bully you about thankfully, just some light teasing about how much you use pinterest and asking what it was you bought on etsy. and just when you thought you were done, someone had to open their big damn mouth.

pian0picass0 : wait a minute why did you open ellies stream THREE times ????

chat started moving faster as they read the comment, everyone asking you to open the stream and show them what was going on. sucking your teeth and denying them as you had shown them what they wanted!

after quickly wrapping up the stream and giving your thanks and goodbyes, a portion of viewers went on a manhunt for any ellie who was streaming at the moment.

once clicking on the stream, they found it was just a casual stream with ellie. she was obviously pretty, but was super laid-back in her jeans and converse as she strummed some songs on her guitar.

"oh hey, welcome to the stream i guess. any requests? i was gonna practice some radiohead because my friend asked for it."

pian0picass0 : hey ellie! do you know who (y/u) is by any chance?

"'sup casso. uhhhh no i dont think i do. did she send yall over here? maybe ill check her channel out."

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case three : the enhanced dm's

"everybody shut the fuck up and lets start this stupid thing."

this was it, one of your biggest streams of the year. and also the most fun. and most aggravating.

the gist was simple. you and 5 other streamers were thrown into a discord call and whoever lasted the longest through the sleep deprivation and challenges won a heap of cash.

what the hell was it with you getting screwed over by challenges?

it didn't seem that bad. the host, a close friend of yours, told you to share your screen so everyone could decide something to tweet from your twitter.

now, your friends in the call didn't notice what was on your screen when you shared it, and if they did they didn't say anything. but never doubt the perseverance of your crazy ass viewers, because one took the liberty to see exactly what you were saying in that split second they could see your dm's, because they swore they knew that profile picture...

abby : don't worry you'll do fine

abby : you're not gonna get embarrassed by any of the challenges

abby : i hope

y/n : seriously

abby : come onn you know i'm rooting for you &lt;3

y/n : aww thanks bee

abby : yup. for the whole event i'm gonna be your personal cheerleader ^3^

y/n : oooo you gonna put on a uniform for me?

abby : don't push it.

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case four : the voice chat slip up

at this point, there was no point in acting like you didn't know the two streamers.

the first was abby. mostly posted fitness, health, and lifestyle videos on youtube, but would occasionally go live on twitch to talk with her fans or stream herself working out at the gym.

(you may or may not have admitted live that you found her by watching a few of her workout streams. whoops.)

and then there was ellie, a gaming streamer who was known for being chill and quiet when playing music but as loud as a plane engine when playing cs:go. don't even get her started on cod.

but luckily you'd manage to convince her to play some games with you on your latest stream! some stardew, maybe some overcooked. even if she kept burning all of the damn food.

leave it to ellie williams to always surprise you, though.

when you hear the du-dum of the discord join noise, your face lights up and your mouth opens to greet ellie before she beats you to it.

"ok, babe, which game we playin first?"

to make a long story shot, your chat went ballistic and you gave a stern talking to the red head after the stream ended.

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case five : the instagram post

most of the time you leave most of your notifications off to avoid your phone sounding like a constant alarm. but you're guessing your recent endeavor of babysitting your cute but horrifically grabby nephew screwed you over, because before you know it the sound of dozens on instagram notifications are waking you up and pushing your bonnet from where it slipped down your eyes before unlocking your phone.

at first it seems like a normal picture abby posted, standing in front of a mirror in her living room , flexing her arm and covered in a thin sheen of sweat after an apparent workout session. ever the show off.

but when you zoomed into a blip of color in the background, your eyes almost pop out of your head when you see it.

its you and ellie, you sitting in her lap while she showed you some stupid meme on her phone she said reminded her of you.

the post was only thirty minutes old but already had a few thousand comments, the previes of 'OMG?????' and "no fucking way" giving you a hint to what people were thinking.

you turned off your phone, tossed it back on the nightstand and went back to sleep.

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case six : the joint stream

y/nsstan69 : not an unscheduled stream ??? is it judgement day ???

onlycuntz : "ft surprise guest" girl we aren't stupid

you had to hide the smile from appearing on your face as you read through the comments of your chat. you knew some of them were probably smart enough to know what was going on. the three of you hadn't really been discrete in the days following abby's slip up post, and viewers jumped at the chance to point you out in the background of some of her workout videos. and to point out how you were staring at her.

assholes.

so, here you sat in the comfort of your cute gaming chair ready to tell chat the big news with your special guest.

"so, i bet some of you are wondering why im streaming off schedule, but i had something big in my personal life that i wanted to tell you guys! in a few minutes my gest should be here..."

your voice trailed off as you kept your eye on chat, seeing a bunch of comments that you werent expecting from this big announcement.

motionpickers : lmaooooo are they serious

lululemonsz : she's gonna be so pissed

you begin to turn around in your chair when two pairs of lips press a kiss to each of your cheeks.

"you guys are so unserious."

"and you are so bad at hiding things." ellie pulls up and extra chair and rolls it up to yours so her knees touch yours. she tugs your hand into hers to sit on her lap, ignoring when you pinch her with your nails.

"ignore her. we could tell what you were doing and figured we should all do it together," abby is on your other side, resting her hip on the arm of your chair. "so, go ahead. it's pretty obvious already."

"wow, thanks for the support you guys."

"anytime, hun."

uhuhstasia : i literally cant tell whos luckier

niatargaryen : IS ANYBODY ELSE FREAKNG OUT

ilovestardewmc1237 : is it appropiate to say i called this

[falsebread]

Hello svss Fandom! Who wants a body swap au?

(I wrote this all on bluesky first lamo sorry if it looks weird ima write it out on ao3 later probably!)

Hear me out, LQG wakes up in SQQ’s body, which, he’s understandably confused about as SQQ is married to LBH speaking of, SY wakes up in LBH’s body, but then that leaves the question-

Where is binghe?

Liu Qingge woke up and knew that something was deeply wrong. For one, his hair was out of its usual sleeping braid, for two, it was FAR too quiet. And lastly, (most importantly) he wasn't in his bed!

The situation is immediately made worse when he hears a deep, rumbling snore from his left. He snapped his eyes open. And was met with a face full of slumbering heavenly demon lord.

He threw himself off the bed with a startled shout, immediately getting tangled in the copious blankets he was wrapped in. The snores cut off into a grumbling yawn.

"Binghe?" the demon himself sat up, eyes squinting and rumpled from sleep. "What..." He yawned widely, showing off a truly impressive pair of fangs.

"What has you up so...." He trailed off finally looking over at the frozen Qingge on the floor.

"...what the fuck?"

Lui Qingge scowled fiercly. "explain yourself beast!!" He spat and watched as the color drained from Binghe's face.

"...no, wait, shen Qingqi?" He asked, pale. Liu qingge scowled harder, finally drawing himself upright

"No. Why would you think-" and then he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror... or rather, shen qingqi.

They have a whole freak out moment, cause shen yuan thinks that SJ just came back from the dead untill he realizes "Oh wait that's lqg,....wait who am I then?... WAIT WHERES MY HUSBAND?!?!??!"

They go to Bai Zhan peak looking for Qingge's body, only to find that it apparently got up in what looked like a blind rage, grabbed a sword and stormed off peak like a rampaging bull.

'Ah,' thinks SY. 'That's where binghe went.' They go to get help, I think SY absolutely takes the opportunity to scare the absolute STUFFING out of SQH.

SY binghe: *growling and being a horrifying demon* "your time is up author- how dare you write me this way you hack!"

SQH: *terrified screaming* "DONT HURT ME- wait hack? Cucumber bro?!?! ;n;"

And then they get MBJ to help look through the demon realms cause binghe isn't on either peak and SY dosent really know where else he'd go, they also presumably get YQY on the search and by default the other peak lords... but that's a last resort as neither SY or LQG want this like.. known.

But try as they might, binghe is unfound and... shen yuan is getting worried. Like actually worried!

At first: 'oh, he's the protagonist he'll be ok'

To: 'binghe??? My precious husband???? Alone??? Without his kisses?!??!? Unacceptable!!!'

Qingge meanwhile is going through perhaps every stage of grief and inventing a few new ones! I headcannon he has a crush on SY, but only like... surface level SY, like post Canon he starts being more himself and the feelings fade for LQG, he deeply values their friendship but at most wants a QPR now.

But he's content being SY's tsundere bestie! But now he's stuck in his body and feeling very.... uncomfy! Also later he finds that whatever caused the body switch is a soul mates thing and he bluescreens because that means he, sy, and BINGHE?! (In my au of this au he's thrilled at this!

However in this au... he's not thrilled, like, he's not horribly opposed but also, not really enthusiastic) sy mentions perhaps platonic soul mates and that eases him significantly

Anyways yall wanna catch up on binghe? Or should I let this go from sy and lqg pov?

[gleefultogo]

page 893 & 894

Alright. so can't ignore the elephant in the room. but what the actual fuck where these two latest pages? First of all the most down played and terrible explanation on why your quote on quote father is "damaged" like i'm sorry but ronja's daughters are gonna be young adults very soon at some point and she had't told them about ranach yet? like girl what were you waiting on. this entire convo was long overdue and kique rushed it so fast and swept it under the rug to get it over with, it's so poorly executed. fucking vandi, kargo and ferah could 100% vouch for her explanation on why he's so terrible. cause no rogio doesn't count, he enabled his actions and did stuff for him. he's just as bad and their relationship wasn't toxic unless proved. I wouldn't trust rogio as my damn uncle as far as I can throw him. again fuck that guy lol. but anyways, vandi is technically their grandmother now, this entire convo should of at least been a decent amount of pages maybe 4 at most instead of just saying "oh he killed people" like he did way more then "kill" he raped and should have an eye awakening of the past tribe living and how he manipulated their own mother. naeva's reaction is bit bratty when I first read this page, and honestly I thought she was stupid. as she rather listen to her own morals then her mothers over a father she never met, it doesn't matter as he has never been around in their lives for her to give a shit about him. also how is naeva gonna know its her father? does her mother have a fucking picture of him somewhere? she never stated his color or anything specific about his character appearance. since these dogs are apparently clearly aware of color and markings. though in a small degree, i kinda agree how she is reacting? she's still being a bit of a bitch honestly. but because her own mother refused to give her a detailed explanation and have her daughters truly understand why he's a "big threat". i feel like she could of easily said their father died or something if it mattered that much to her that she doesn't want her daughters to truly end up seeking him. I just feel, now that we might have this anti child turning evil motive that doesn't really make sense? there's really no real reason for them to switch sides and betray their mother if that's a possibility other than to just appease ranach since he can manipulate thats about it. it'll just be for dramatic useless tension. anyways... so instead of ronja being a parent and not going after her own daughter to try and talk some sense into her as this is a vulnerable topic for both of them now. instead we get the worst and dumbest transition in the next page. its night time now and what does ronja do? well instead of again reaching out to her daughter. deer dog pops up into her tent and well they basically have sex. we are once given the cycle that sex cures everything and holy shit i don't know how she can be in the mood for that. like omg just talk about your problems for once without fucking each other. also idk what deer dog means by "tender soul" my dude you barely been around her kids, every-time you were on screen you were either by ronja or standing in the background. I doubt you know what her daughter is like and just exactly know how she'd react. but honestly if naeva sneaks off or goes searching for her father. gotta say it's ronja's fault at that point cause she didn't give a care enough about her own daughters safety and rather get bonded. also off topic kinda, but I keep seeing people claim that naeva as the "black pup" is it just me? I don't see her as black in color, unless my eye sight is really bad and I dont know it. but I honestly have been confused by it. I'd consider her dark toned comapared to her sisters. but not black color wise.

[raainberry]

Rewind You

« To rewind is to make something go back to the beginning or to an earlier point. »

Sana x gn!reader

Angst

synopsis - your ex’s concert is the last place you should be at after breaking up, yet here you are

⚠️this (very) short story is told backwards, so from end to the start. i wrote it so you can read it normally and from the end. both ways will make sense, but the chronology in which it’s told will change.

wordcount - 581

T/W - Food (One mention)

A/N - two crazy discoveries led to this: new sana pics and melanie martinez’s unreleased song You Love I from which the concept is inspired. enjoy! or not bc i actually dont know if this is good its too late for me to worry about that🥰

Everything was better with her…

You’d ask yourself how you ended up here, but you knew the answer already.

You felt lost, overwhelmed as a pain you couldn’t seem to let go of persisted deep within your chest, looking around in search for a distraction.

How deluding…

The music was loud, but the tune was off. The lights were bright, but they lacked color. The people around you were happy, dancing and singing along to whatever song came out of those powerful speakers, but it wasn’t infectious.

Your eyes followed the spotlight as it highlighted the artist you hadn’t seen in months. All you could feel when you laid eyes on her was jealousy.

Something you loved and cherished, a place and a person, they’d been ripped away from you the moment you’d parted ways. Yet there she was, still enjoying it all as everyone’s focus and passionate admiration landed solely onto her for the next two minutes.

Minatozaki Sana.

You should have gone to a nightclub... It was the most popular, if not customary short-term remedy to a breakup. Why on Earth were you at a concert instead—her concert out of all?

Needless to say, your split was a fall from grace. Heartbreaking, as you’d expect from a relationship that lasted this long. You’d never broken up with anyone, but you’d seen it in the movies. You knew it would hurt no matter how long you’d seen it coming. You even bought the ice cream in advance, which you unsurprisingly downed in days while living in your memories.

Years. Months. Days. Hours. Every minute you spent together, you made sure to love each other, feeling your hearts swelling at every gesture. A kiss, a touch, or even a simple look was enough to send you to cloud nine. High enough to only see each other.

You’re not sure when everything and everyone else faded out, what mattered was her. You truly liked her. So did she. Perhaps from the moment you’d met. But it took a while to realise just how much you cared about the other.

A first date only came after her clumsy confession one drunken summer night on your balcony. You thought it had been a dream when you woke up the next day. It felt like it at least, when you laid eyes on her and saw her clinging to your shirt in her sleep. Even unconscious, she seemed to be aware of your presence. To want it.

Her conscience never let a second go by without a thought of you either. She made it her mission to satisfy this mindful desire of hers. Texting you at all hours, calling you just to hear the sound of your voice, asking if you could meet her in between two schedules like you would even think about saying no to her.

She was all you could think about. Her smile, her eyes, her laugh, down to her scent. It remained in a corner of your mind, recalling each of them in the late hours of the night as you struggled to fall asleep. The feeling was enchanting, to the point you wondered if she was real. If you’d really met her and she was not someone you’d made up in your dreams to make it all easier.

Life wasn’t that much of a party until you crossed paths with her. While she described her ‘before’ as chaotic, you liked to see yours as the opposite. Just plain boring.

Nothing seemed as colorful, vibrant, or lush without her.

Everything was better with her.

[acetheta]

hiya!! ive been meaning to do this for awhile…

but uh! this is a music analysis for thoschei for so long, london (taylor swift ) !!!

( @thetorturedlovergirl @dykethoschei )

“i saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist” so i could be remembering wrong but i believe during the gallifrey flashbacks in divided loyalties, they talk about some sort of lights overhead? how koschei and theta probably saw them together.

“i kept calm and carried the weight of the rift” koschei was dying inside all that time at the academy, but she couldnt let herself show it. for theta.

“pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away” koschei tried so hard to hold onto theta. but the truth? theta was going to leave in every timeline.

“my spine split from carrying us up the hill” again, koschei just wanted theta. that was all. they tried so hard to hold onto him, but he didnt even see it. maybe he did. it didnt matter.

“i stopped trying to make him laugh” they used to be so close. one day it just wasnt worth it anymore. he couldnt pine after a ghost.

“thinkin, how much sad did you think i had” koschei was always there for theta. did theta even see it?

“so long, london” not leaving london, but gallifrey. afterall, koschei couldnt sit and wait around for theta to come back forever, could he? he had to move on. move on without theta.

“you’ll find someone” because theta did. again and again. companion after companion.

“i didnt opt in to be your odd man out” theta has loved so many, but apparently he could never bring themself to love koschei.

“i left all i knew” because he did. koschei left all he knew on gallifrey, and went to search for a purpose.

“you left me at the house by the heath” why did you have to go theta? didnt u understand koschei was going to love you forever? she did. they still do. it wasn’t enough.

“i stopped CPR, after all its no use” theres no use trying to be good when everyone has always treated u like what u r, a monster.

“and im pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free” they were just kids. koschei wasted her teen years loving someone that was always going to leave.

“two graves, one gun” in the end, its always theta pointing a gun at koschei, and koschei welcomes Death.

“and you say i abandoned the ship, but i was going down with it” theta was always so mad at koschei, but koschei would have sacrificed everything for theta. and didnt she?

“my white knuckle dying grip” koschei was always meant to die by the doctor’s hands. and he will continue to every time.

“holding tight to your quiet resentment” maybe it isnt so quiet. but its there.

“my friends said it wasnt right to be scared, every day of a love affair” this could mean multiple things. maybe koschei talked to the deca about theta?

“every breath feels like rarest air, when you’re not sure if he wants to be there” koschei never knew that theta loved him. she knew. of course she did. it didnt matter.

“just how long did you think i’d go? before i’d self implode” how long would koschei have waited for theta? not forever. he was always going to break eventually.

“you swore that you loved me, but where were the clues” again, koschei was begging to be noticed. theta didnt even see them.

“i died on the altar waiting for the proof” even now, koschei is just trying to get theta to look at him. he dies every time.

“you sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days” about how theta left (in the divided loyalties flashbacks) and went and found the toy maker. he was a god.

“and im just getting color back into my face” will koschei ever be over theta? no. i dont think so.

“im just mad as hell cause i loved this place” gallifrey, but more, theta.

“had a good run, a moment of warm sun” they were happy for a bit, so was it all worth it? was all the pain and suffering and death worth a few of theta’s smiles? theta will look at anyone but koschei. why?

[lulileetrait]

⸸ cursed; the legacy storytelling challenge

♱ i dont know why i though i would be the exception

; a mistake you commit, a heart you break, a secret you must keep, whatever is the torment in your mind, let them ruin your dreams and your life in this macabre and story-driven legacy challenge, where every heir must keep one simple gruesome tradition: being worse than the one before.

✘ ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ

everything in this challenge can be changed as you wish or as you need, the original requires basically all the expansions for it to be completed, so feel free to play it the way you want, it’s mainly a storytelling legacy, the rules and everything are there to help you/ make a bit more fun for gameplay as well; you can play as a legacy or separated stories, your story, your way; the only permanent/unskippable thing is the “choose one” rule, but again, your challenge, your rules; this thing it’s mostly based on corecore tiktoks, but i'm a girls girl so i planned all of this through a women heirs perspective, but the challenge is genderless.

generation 01 - original sin

prompt: you killed someone when you were just a frail teenager. someone you love took the blame for you, giving you the opportunity to run away. but the case was reopened, and the new detective is after you.

rules: master logic and archeology; have six friends and two enemies; have only one child; raise the children out of the city. choose one: kill the detective or marry the detective.

traits: ambitious, paranoid, insider.

aspiration: city native

career: school administrator or salary-person expert

color palette: red and black

generation 02 - sacrificial lamb

prompt: you were raised in a farm by a sinister and controlling family, you crave attention. killing animals was almost like a hobby, nobody taught you how to act, now you need to control everything and everyone.

rules: master all the cooking skills; have 6 partners at the same time; have at least one work rival; have two kids with different partners; return to the farm with only one kid (who’s not the heir) choose one: kill one of your rivals or one of your lovers

traits: foodie, erratic, gloomie

aspiration: villanious valentine

career: food critic or culinary chef

color palette: brown and white

generation 03: soulless model

prompt: you were left by one parent, and you and your sibling were separated for life. you face was a constant reminder of the abandonment, so you searched for adoration from the world, and caught the wrong attention.

rules: master acting and dancing skills; have a room filled with paintings; have only one enemy (the sibling); acquire “refined palate” quirk; complete aspiration; only have kids as an adult. choose one: kill your sibling or let them replace you.

traits: selfabsorbed, perfectionist, overarchiever

aspiration: world-famous celebrity

career: style influencer trendsetter or acting

color palette: blue and grey

generation 04: white dove

prompt: the worst nightmare of a shy person is being pursued by everyone. you tried your whole life to not be perceived by others, but the lust your body exhaled always put you in the worst of problems.

rules: master two instruments skills; master gardening skill; avoid relationships until young adult; get involved with a married person; have a child with the married person; leave the city and raise the kids alone; fall in love when older. choose one: feed a toxic love or kill an innocent one.

traits: unflirty, neat, loner

aspiration: freelance botanist

career: politician charity organizer or gardener botanist

color palette: light pink and cream

generation 05: western devil

prompt: you were a difficult kid, like many others in the small town. not knowing half of your origins was a good excuse for your riot. maybe all of the jealousy hided a scared kid, maybe the scared kid killed the future of the adult you could become.

rules: master fitness and guitar skills; join a gang as a teenager; move three times as a young adult; have a sidekick with “good” trait; be abducted and have an alien baby; at some point, be on a killing spree; never get married. choose one: be betrayed or kill the good guy

traits: jealous, loves outdoors, self-assured

aspiration: bodybuilder

career: manual labor or agent villain

color palette: orange and charcoal

generation 06: replicating human

prompt: an alien left to born on earth, abandoned by their own race, but loved by a stranger. you admire the human condition, but it’s clear that you’re not one of them. you’ll do anything to be like them, you mean it.

rules: master charisma and parenting skill; go to sixam at least one time; have a “enemy to lovers” relationship; write fiction books as a hobby; kill the enemy of your enemy; have at least four kids. choose one: betray humanity or betray your own kind.

traits: squeamish, genius, family-oriented

aspiration: big happy family

career: scientist or astronaut space ranger

color palette: purple and blue

generation 07: chameleon without identity

prompt: growing up in a big family sounds like a dream, but you were lost in the crowd, you don’t remember the sound of your name. who are you? you don’t know, and the lack of identity will be the death of you.

rules: master singing and programming skill; reach the top of the career; leave your home as a teen; have a romantic relationship with all of your coworkers, leave them all; have only one bestfriend; have an atrocious reputation; complete aspiration as elder. choose one: kill one sibling or

betray your bestfriend.

traits: slob, hot-headed, romantic

aspiration: beach life

career: social media public relations or computer engineer

color palette: yellow and black

generation 08: manipulative obsessive

prompt: you are incapable of getting over anything, you feel everything too deeply, you’re obsessed with letting go. as a teen you discover love, a new kind of fuckery! oh, you could never get over love, never.

rules: master painting and pet training skill; have ten lovers, never hate them; be hated by at least six lovers; have a painting of every lover you had; marry as an adult, divorce as elder; complete pet aspiration as elder. choose one: always cheat when married or kill one of your past lovers

traits: lovebug, art lover, glutton

aspiration: serial romantic/ friend of the animals

career: painter patron of arts or interior decorator

color palette: green and red

generation 09: possessed teen

prompt: you had a difficult childhood, with difficult parents, no space was left for you, but something in your head was wrong, not because of the external world, but something inside: you’re born broken, wrong, possessed.

rules: master any skills for the aspiration; steal an item from everyone you meet; ruin all your relationships as teen; only work part-time as young adult; select a career as an adult; marry someone “cheerful”; try to supress evil thoughts; have at least three kids choose one: give yourself a bad ending or to your partner

traits: evil, kleptomaniac, bookworm

aspiration: renaissance sim

career: militar covert operator or law private attorney

color palette: black and lime

generation 10: the jane doe

prompt: a curious kid, always lurking and being nosy, the worst nightmare for a family full of dark secrets. you need to know in what point your family was cursed, or you were just born unlucky? you couldn’t accept it.

rules: master writing and mischief skill; know secrets of at least three friends; get yourself in trouble all the time; always sabotage things; discover a family secret; marry your boss and later get fired (you can get married more than once); complete aspiration choose one: abandon your family or be left at the altar

traits: skeptical, nosy, snob

aspiration: sucessful lineage

career: writer journalist or detective

color palette: peach and beige

you can follow my version of the challenge on insta @lulileecursed

if you liked this challenge, consider following me, and if you do your own version please tag me and let me know so I can read your story!

[writers-wrongs]

I'm begging please yandere gotham oswald cobblepot with a male readers hc

For a queer character there is surprising lack of male reader stuff with him

i think thats bc you can just pretend youre eddie for the experience lmao. but yeah, we need more ozzie content. btw, this is only gonna cover season oneish, mostly bc this man goes through so much and i cant possibly cover it all in one post

yandere!gotham!penguin x male!reader

-you work at fish's club as a waiter, so hes known you for a while. youre one of the only people who treats him with any kindness, the only others being his mother and (sometimes) fish, so he spends most of his free time with you

-he falls for you hard and fast, but he takes a while to recognize it as love. hes been bullied all his life, so he assumes that his feelings for you are just friendship. of course, his mother recognizes her son is in love and gives him a little talk (she assumes its a woman, but her hearts in the right place). once he knows hes in love, he does absolutely nothing with that knowledge

-dont get me wrong, he utterly adores you. youre on his mind constantly. he just doesnt feel like hes important enough to have you yet. why would you ever want a pathetic little umbrella boy? so he stays friends with you, and he starts planning. if he doesnt deserve you now, he'll have to work to earn you

-then the whole "fish tries to have him killed for betraying her" thing happens. and up until he takes over her club, theres not much he can do about you. hes moreso focused on survival at the moment. but when he takes the club, he keeps you around and promotes you to co-owner

-this man spoils you constantly. you want a new suit? he gets you a personal tailor. you say you like a color? the club is covered in it within the week. you say you dont like someone? theyre found dead the next day, and zsasz has a new tally on his arm. anything you want, he takes to the extreme

-aaand now hes fighting for his life again. my poor boy, hes suffered more than jesus and weve only just finished season one. hes now the self-proclaimed king of gotham, and his ego is through the roof. his first act as king? shows up at your doorstep with a bouquet of purple roses and begs you to be his

-if you accept his love, you rule gotham by his side. directly by his side. you two share the throne in the most physical interpretation of the phrase, this man is so clingy. youre never out of his sight for more than an hour, and if you are, all of his men start searching the city for you. oswald practically worships you. to the gotham underworld, youre known as his better half. if someone can convince you to let them live, oswald will listen because thats what his lovebird wants, and what his lovebird wants, he gets

-if you dont, he does his best not to cry. in front of you, that is. he rushes to his mom and sobs for hours. once he calms down, gotham becomes a dark place. no mercy is shown to anyone who messes up, infighting is almost encouraged, and the only rule of the penguin is that youre not to be hurt. people are allowed to affect your life, though. any partners of yours tragically die, youre constantly put into (controlled) danger, your apartment even gets broken into so you dont feel safe at home. if youre not going to embrace oswald willingly, he'll just frighten you into running into his arms

[baylardo]

pasting this from google docs lmao editing a bit

trying to come up with nameeeesss

i got two species obvs: moth aliens and bat aliens,,, both dont have names i am broken

**moth aliens**

-had a ggggeneral idea of them being telepathic/having healing/prolonged life/free of disease properties. my thought was that peppa acquires baby before it is a baby and is in fact a pod/egg that senses/imprints/bonds to her and hatches lol. (figure the pod/egg is kinda like cryostasis for infants, sustains them but is effectively ageless and baby will gestate in it but will not be born/start aging until it “hatches”) also thought maybe baby would heal her if she gets injured at some point. maybe the antennae glow when theyre using their powers. antennae glow with heightened emotions too, less controllable when theyre younger. Also figured the antennae grow as they age; moss has lil baby caterpillar size ones rn, but they get bigger like a moth’s when he’s older.

-white/pale in scheme. my intent was to have them be like a trek species that still has "human" skin colors, just a little extra on their foreheads, i.e. antennae. maybe do something unique with their eyes? i didnt want them to have wings or extra arms.

-i thought IF they had winglike features, theyd be more like, technological inventions that respond to their brain patterns and extend from their backs when they wear certain clothing/suits. had a vague idea of them being kinda like, "light" and glowing. idk if ill do this, its like unnecessary lore that doesnt even apply to a baby lol. Maybe solar powered??? their whole planet is fueled by stars as it drifts in and out of their orbit

-liked the idea of silky clothing, dont know how to visually accomplish this yet in a way that seems "alien"

-also probably omnivorous? for contrast w/ the bats…..

-my meek little worldbuildy lore for them is that they're like, an advanced civilization and progressed rapidly in response to their planet's star reaching some stage of unsustainability for their planet. so they construct the ability to break their planet from orbit and it's effectively a planet-sized ship that houses their entire population (not fast, likely cannot go to warp, but it's a drifting planet). i figure its like, not huge for a planet lol, but still big. they somehow constructed this huge shielding technology/dome that surrounds the planet and makes it look like a big black orb but can pinch/extend itself to let light from passing stars in or protect the planet from debris. At the cost of this, theyre not super savvy on actual starships and are actually rather “grounded.” theyre also just VERY dependent on solar power as its how they sustain themselves and their planet-ship.

-I think the moth aliens are a bit naive/sheltered so like, maybe when i say “telepathic” its like, they see the best in people, but maybe not everything??? Idk get back to me on that one haha i had the idea of baby Moss digging philippa’s vibe and thats why he hatches/bonds to her. (((i also thought maybe its a maternal thing going on with philippa,,,,,,,,,,, WELL SEE))))

**bat aliens**

-to accompany the moth alien “lore”, this part’s still vague for me in my head bc its not fitting perfectly yet lol. But my current thought i dont 100% like is that the bat aliens are another civilization of aliens drifting in space aboard a starship this time so their numbers are drastically smaller. Theyve come from a similar situation but are way less smart so their planet became uninhabitable (another dying star maybe? I figure they sympathize with their plight) and they were forced to abandon it in search of a new home. the moth aliens let them land on their planet and they end up taking the bat aliens in and coexisting.

-Bat aliens end up like, substantially growing in numbers, maybe they have litters of children where the moth aliens’ babies take significant time to hatch SHRUG. And this is where im kinda like uuuuuuuh????? VERY PRONE TO CHANGE Like my thought was that somehow somewhy the bat aliens start using moth aliens’ blood for infusion type stuff at first, but it ends up exposing these perks to their biology of like, heightened brain function, maybe the lowkey telepathic abilities, etc. methinks bat aliens’ impression is that theyre looked down upon and its a way to rise above their cohabitants or w/e. stuff behind the scenes starts going down, moth aliens start mysteriously vanishing/dying, certain bat alien figures start rising into power, they kinda suppress the moth aliens, they start dwindling in numbers. Idk timewise how long it takes for all of this to go down, but their civilization eventually gets wiped out. Whether or not theyre all aware of what they’re infusing into themselves idk i havent really thought of the specifics other than like, the bat aliens that have been living off of it for generations are getting progressively changed in appearance and take on a lot of the moth aliens’ features/traits. it could be that only the higher ups in the society know the secret as theyre the ones with direct access to doling out the supply to their civilization.

-i could easily change what ive made with these guys ngl im PRETTY dissatisfied with my attempts lmao. But initially my visual thoughts for them are they’re scavengers, darker color schemes where its obvious they havent had sunlight on them in a long time, id wanted to give them features that would easily contrast with that of the moth aliens so its more like, blatantly obvious that theyve begun adopting their physical traits i.e. having whiter fur, developing little antennae, maybe their eyes change, etc.

-i also figured theyd have started off as having protruding fangs to blatantly show that theyre more genetically inclined to be carnivorous, but the ones that are infusing moth blood like, still HAVE fangs but theyre smaller. And because of their altered biology likeeee, meat isnt as appetizing to them now.

-ALSO didnt want wings for these aliens,, just want humanoid,,,,, i thought maybe going more gargoyle in their natural state and they straighten out their posture with the moth blood lol. But idk its vague and messy. :^)

[towriteloveontheirarms]

I know this is a bit.. dark I suppose, so dont feel like you have to. But could you write Modern!gamer Aegon trying to figure out how to help his s/o that has self harm issues? It can include smut but it doesn't have to:)

It is a bit dark, but thank you for the request nonnie. As someone who has suffered from this themselves before it helped to write about it. I hope you are doing good or are getting the help you need.<3

It will get better again

pairing: modern!gamer!Aegon II Targaryen x reader

synopsis: Aegon finds out about you self-harming and is determined to help you.

warnings: hurt/comfort, descriptions of self-harm, mentions of unhealthy familial bonds, talk about mental health and getting help

word count: 1.4k

a/n: This contains some serious dark themes, so if you feel like you aren´t in the right mental space to read, please skip for your own safety. If you are ccurrently dealing with self-harming behavior, thoughts of self-harm or even suicidal ideation, please please please look for help. You are important and deserve to get better!

You hear Aegon scream at the console in the living room. A daily occurrence ever since the two of you moved in together, alerting you that he was playing CoD with the Cargyll twins again. Yet the sound quickly fades into the background as you dig your nails into your upper thighs. Scratching at the skin until you see red drops of blood run down the smooth skin. You don´t even feel the burning pain in your limbs  anymore, only the numbness that spreads through your body as you watch the ruby colored liquid drop down to the pristine, white tiles. It looks so pretty, that you fully concentrate on the sight.

You don´t know how long you sit there, but eventually an urgent knocking at the door pulls you from your thoughts. Scrambling to your feet you try to clean up as fast as possible, before you open the door. Aegon rushes past you and so your behavior goes unnoticed once more. Well, at least until that night.

The two of you lie in bed and his hand ventures down to your thighs, running over them lightly as his kisses wander down your neck. When he touches the still sore flesh, you can't hold back sucking in the air through clenched teeth.

“Are you okay?” He asks between kisses.

“Yeah. It´s nothing.” You whisper back, but avert your eyes from him.

Of course Aegon catches that and immediately stop what he is doing.

Sitting up and gently taking your hands in his, his eyes search yours for the truth. It wouldn´t be the first time of you hitting a depressive phase while being with him. Yet the thought of it alone is filled with so much shame. Too much to admit it directly. You just didn´t want him to blame himself.

While you try to find an answer Aegon turns on the light beside you, to reveal the still fresh wounds along with multiple scarred ones.

“Doll… was that all… you?” His voice is cautious and you can hear the hurt drip from it.

The nod that you are able to give as an answer is barely discernible. “I´m sorry….”

“No! No, don´t apologize for that. Just… Why did you do it?” He tries to stay calm, but by the way his leg starts to bounce you can tell that he is anything but.

“I don´t know. It´s just all too much sometimes.”

“Too much?”

“Too many feelings. And then I can´t think straight and then… I don´t mean to do it. I swear.” Memories of sitting in your families living room while your mother screams at you for harming yourself flood back into your mind. Pushing tears to cling at your lower lash line. However you could never put into words, how glad you are that Aegon tries to find a way to get to the bottom of this. That he doesn´t close his eyes to it.

“I know. Shhh, I know you didn´t mean to. It just happens sometimes, but this can´t go on. Okay? You can´t keep hurting yourself.” His hug is so warm and so tight that there is nothing left but to let go of the tears. Through the shaking of your body and the droning in your head, his voice still faintly rings through to you, with soothing sounds and words. All the while his hand rubs soothing circles on your back.

“It´s okay. I know it can get too much. I´m here for you. Just let it all out.” He continues to soothe you until there are no tears left inside of you.

“I´m so sorry.” You apologize again, feeling like no matter how often you did, it would never be enough.

“Hey, you don´t need to apologize. Let´s just go to sleep and tomorrow we can talk about it in peace, alright?” Your eyelids get heavy even before Aegon has finished speaking.

You nod in answer once more. Unable to speak from exhaustion the two of you cuddle close and soon later you drift off into a restless sleep.

The next morning you wake up in bed alone. From across the hallway you can smell Aegon making breakfast and hear him talking on the phone with someone. You don´t feel like you have enough strength to walk or even stand up, so you simply wait for him to come back, which he does only  a half hour later. A cup of your favorite tea in one hand and his phone in the other.

“You´re up, That´s good. I, um…  just talked to Helaena. Figured that might be better than going into a rabbit hole on the internet.” He puts the tea down on the bedside table and crawls back under the blanket beside you. “Are you okay to talk about what happened yesterday?”

“Yeah.” Your voice is still rough and so you take a deep sip of the tea.

“I want you to know that I love you no matter what, okay? And I want to help you in any way I can, because you deserve to get all the help you need. We can get through this together.” It´s visible that his sister has told him a lot. Which in this moment you are greatful for as his calm energy keeps you calm as well.

“I love you too, Egg. I´m so sorry to bring you into this shit show. This is not your problem to fix…”

“Listen here, doll.” He lays a hand under your chin to make you look into his eyes. Where you are met with worry, but also an overwhelming amount of compassion. “We can do this. Together.”

“I don´t even know what to do…” You whisper into his chest. Relaxing a bit more as his other hand draws small circles on your arm.

“That´s fine. We can figure that out.” Aegon kisses the crown of your head. “Helaena even offered to help with looking for therapy if you are okay with that. Plus side  of the job she said.”

You feel his chest vibrate with a low chuckle under your cheek.

“Yeah, I think going back to therapy is a good idea.” For the first time you don´t feel the overwhelming urge to apologize to him, but instead “Thank you, for being there for me. I know this isn´t exactly what you pictured when you asked me out.”

“So, what? We all have messy phases in your life, but we can move past them.”

Together you spend the rest of the morning in bed, just breathing and existing by each other’s side. It´s so nice to know that he is there for you. That he even called his sister for you, when they barely even talked anymore.

In the afternoon he gives you some space, opting to go to the living room to hop on the console. You are glad that he does. He deserves to take his mind off your problems.

In the afternoon you feel like you have enough strength to stand up for the first time, so you use it to make yourself and Aegon a snack. When you bring it to him however you see that he isn´t playing any games as usual, instead he is talking to his friends while looking something up on his phone.

With a soft tap to his shoulder you make your presence known. “Hey, I made a snack.” You whisper as to not interrupt anything.

“Hey, come here for a moment.” He takes his headphones off and pulls you close.

“What´s up?” You ask slightly unsure as to what he was gonna say next.

“I did some more research.” He rubs his neck. “And I found this forum of people sharing what they did to redirect their thoughts of you know… whatever they did to harm themselves.”

“Oh?” His openness and willingness to help surprises you.

“If you are willing to try of course. I don´t want to jump anything on you.”

“Y-yeah, sure.”

Aegon face lights up ever so slightly at your affirmative answer. Telling you about all the stuff he found and while it feels quite paralyzing to take all the information in, you can find one way or another that might be able to redirect your thoughts.

“I-I don´t know what to say…”

“That´s okay. Maybe you can start by trying out one thing next time you feel yourself slipping.”

“Yes, I can do that.” You nod.

“I´m so proud of you for being so open to all of this. I know it must be a lot, but you can do this. I love you, doll” He kisses your cheek softly.

“I love you too. More than you could ever imagine.” You sigh. There still is a remnant of the cold numbness inside of your gut, but it is getting chased away by the warmth that only Aegon could provide.