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mrsha-ang-kim · 3 months ago

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𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲

pairings: hyunjin x afab!reader, non idoal au, strangers to lovers

synopsis: after flunking a test her friend persuades her to get her mind off it with stuff. instead of getting high with the substance, she gets high on the seller.

warnings: suggestive, crack, candy (don't do drugs)

a/n: heyyy babes! im partially back, but i just did this to overcome my block. i am better ofc but now im busy catching up on what i missed in my real world so...ill be back, enjoyyy, if you have extra eyes for errors no you dont

You.

The sweetheart with the pressed skirts and the highlighters neatly lined up on your desk. You had a planner for every semester, color-coded tabs, sticky notes filled with quotes about hard work and ambition. Scholarship student. Honor roll. Volunteer work on weekends. You were the kind of girl professors remembered—the kind who made the alumni board smile and shake hands a little tighter.

And baby, you wore that pressure like a second skin.

Because being "good" wasn’t just for you. It was for your family back home who had scraped together every dream they could just to send you here. It was for the neighbors who pointed at you like a success story. It was for the little girl you used to be—the one who promised she would make it out and make it matter.

You stayed away from parties.

You stayed away from boys.

You stayed away from trouble.

You had to.

---

The campus library was cold.

Not just in temperature, the fluorescent lights buzzed like dying flies overhead, casting everything in that weird sterile glow, like a hospital for broken dreams. You stared down at the crumpled paper in your hands. Big red letters slashed across it like fresh wounds.

D+.

You blinked at it. Once. Twice. Maybe if you blinked hard enough, it would change. Maybe it would rearrange itself into a B...a C...Anything but what it was.

You had studied so damn hard. Flashcards, mock tests, late-night cramming sessions until your eyes burned. You drank the coffee, you skipped the parties, you wore yourself thin because you knew the stakes. And still, here you were.

A failure.

You felt the heat rising behind your eyes before you could even stop it.

"Y/N!"

Your best friend's voice came soft, careful, like she already knew you were teetering on the edge of something dangerous. She rushed over, dropping her own books with a thud, her brows knitted in concern.

She crouched beside you at the study table, laying a hand gently on your shoulder.

"Hey... hey, it's okay. It's just one test, darling. It's not the end of the world—" You yanked your shoulder away before she could finish, your whole-body stiff and trembling.

"Don't—!"

The word came out sharper than you meant, jagged and raw, and your friend's eyes widened slightly. But you were past the point of caring. Your voice cracked as you stood up too fast, the chair screeching backward obnoxiously loud.

"I did everything right," you choked out. "Everything. I worked my ass off. I did everything they told me to do, and it still wasn't enough! It’s never enough!" You felt it break then your anger giving way to the helpless sob sitting stubbornly in your chest. Your throat burned. Your hands trembled.

"Y/N..."

She caught you this time when you stumbled, gathering you into a hug as the dam finally burst. You shook in her arms, silent tears leaking down your cheeks, your body going limp with exhaustion. She rubbed soothing circles on your back, whispering soft nothings like "it's okay" and "you’re not alone," but the words barely registered over the static screaming in your mind.

When you finally pulled away, she tucked your hair gently behind your ear, giving you a look that was all understanding and mischief tangled into one.

"You need to blow off some steam," she said, her tone shifting into something lighter, coaxing a weak, watery laugh from you.

"I mean it. You're gonna combust if you don’t. Listen—there’s this party happening Saturday. Off-campus. Lowkey but... not really. I know some people who could seriously help you forget this week ever happened."

You sniffed, wiping at your eyes like a kid caught crying in the playground.

"A party?" you muttered, half-horrified, half-tempted.

It wasn’t like you.

But God, wasn’t that the point?

Your best friend smirked a little, knowing she had you halfway convinced already. She leaned closer, dropping her voice into a conspiratorial whisper.

"I’ll introduce you to my guy friends. They're... cool. Different. You'll like them."

You hesitated. Your heart hammered at the idea of stepping even one foot off the carefully paved road you’d spent years walking. But sitting here, broken and tired and humiliated, you realized—

The road hadn’t saved you. Maybe it was time to step off it. You wiped your hands over your face, took a deep, shaky breath, and finally, finally nodded.

"Fine," you mumbled.

"One night."

Your friend grinned like she’d just won a bet.

"Atta girl."

---

You stood stiffly in front of the mirror, your hands clenching the hem of your skirt so tightly it crinkled. The reflection staring back at you didn’t even feel like you. Your friend was crouched in front of you, lipstick in one hand, a determined glint in her eyes.

"Stop moving," she said, grinning. "You’re gonna look so hot, it’s criminal."

You tried to smile. It came out weak, strained at the edges.

The outfit she chose for you was way outside your comfort zone—tiny black skirt, strappy crop top, leather jacket thrown over your shoulders to "ease you into it" (her words).

Your makeup was bolder than anything you ever dared to wear.

Smoky eyes, glossy lips. A version of you that looked ready to set the night on fire, even though inside, you felt more like soggy wood.

Your legs shifted nervously in place, the heels feeling foreign, unsteady. "Are you sure this isn’t... too much?" you asked, biting your lip. You stared at yourself again, trying to reconcile the you you knew with the you you were pretending to be.

Your best friend stood up, placing both hands firmly on your shoulders.

She leaned in, locking eyes with you in the mirror.

"Y/N," she said firmly, "you are gorgeous. You just don’t let yourself see it most days. Trust me tonight, okay?"

You hesitated, the weight of your nerves thick in your chest.

Then you nodded.

A tiny, scared nod, but a nod nonetheless.

"Atta girl," she smiled, bumping her forehead lightly against yours.

She grabbed her keys, swinging them around her finger with a casual confidence you could only dream of, and tossed you a wink.

"Let’s go blow some minds."

The drive to the party felt both too long and too short. The city lights blurred past the windows, all neon and chaotic, matching the buzz under your skin. Your friend sang along softly to the music she put on something bass-heavy and lazy, like it didn’t care who it seduced.

You twisted your fingers together in your lap, trying not to think too hard.

As she pulled onto a quieter street, you saw the house in the distance.

Already, there were people spilling out onto the lawn, solo cups in hand, voices raised in wild laughter. Music thudded from inside low and thick, a heartbeat you could feel in your ribs.

Your stomach twisted.

At the red light before the turn, your friend reached over and squeezed your hand.

"Hey," she said, voice soft now. "Listen to me. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, okay? One wrong vibe, you say the word, and we’re out. No questions, no guilt trips. Pinky promise."

She held up her pinky, wiggling it in front of your face. You smiled for real this time—small, grateful—and hooked your pinky with hers. It was stupid and childish but somehow exactly what you needed.

"Thanks," you whispered. "Always, baby girl," she grinned, letting go as the light turned green. The car rolled up toward the house, headlights catching flashes of students you recognized and a whole lot you didn’t. Somebody was already half-passed out on the front porch. You swallowed hard. This wasn’t your scene. This wasn’t your world. But tonight, for just a little while you were stepping off the road. Your friend parked a little ways down, turning off the ignition and turning to you with a wicked smirk.

"Ready to get a little stupid?"

You laughed, nerves and adrenaline tangling in your chest.

"Not really," you said honestly.

She bumped her shoulder against yours. "Perfect. That’s when the best shit happens." You both climbed out into the night, heels clicking on the pavement, leather jacket heavy across your shoulders. You tugged it tighter around yourself like armor.

Inside, the house pulsed with life.

The door swung open before you could knock, laughter and smoke curling out like welcoming arms. The house swallowed you whole the moment you stepped inside.

It wasn’t just noise it was living. The bass of the music slammed into your chest like a second heartbeat, making your ribs vibrate. Everywhere you looked, there were people draped across furniture, spilling drinks onto worn hardwood floors, laughing too loudly, moving in rhythms half a beat too slow or too fast. The air was thick, syrupy sweet, tainted with something almost electric.

A haze clung near the ceiling—smoke from god-knows-what—and the sharp bite of cheap alcohol hung in every breath.

The lighting was low, a chaotic mess of fairy lights strung carelessly along the walls, some blinking, some dead altogether.

It threw the whole room into this weird, half-lit dream where nothing looked quite real.

You clutched your jacket tighter around yourself, swallowing hard. God, you already felt out of place. Like a sore thumb dipped in glitter. But your best friend—beautiful, fearless, reckless—grabbed your hand and tugged you deeper into the crowd with a grin.

"C'mon, meet my people," she said, practically yelling over the music. You followed, weaving through bodies until you landed in a somewhat less suffocating corner where a group was huddled around a sagging couch. There were introductions you barely caught names flung casually into the smoke, faces blurred by the strobe of some dying LED light. Someone handed you a drink (you didn't ask what it was, and you weren’t sure you wanted to know), and for a while—surprisingly—you almost relaxed. The laughter was contagious, the jokes easy, the chatter flowing like warm river water.

You even laughed once. A real laugh, the kind that caught you off guard.

It felt... good. Foreign, but good.

You started thinking, Maybe this isn’t so bad. Maybe I needed this.

Until—

"Hey," your best friend's voice cut through the fog, soft and careful, right by your ear.

You turned to find her smiling at you—a little too sweetly. Immediate alarm bells.

"What," you said flatly, narrowing your eyes. She rocked back on her heels, trying to play it casual. "Okay, so... I didn’t just bring you here to, you know, socialize." You stared at her. Her grin widened sheepishly.

"Oh no," you said immediately, taking a step back.

"No. Whatever it is, no."

"Wait, wait!" she laughed, grabbing your arm to steady you.

"You’ve been so stressed lately, baby, I just—listen, there’s this new candy going around."

Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "It’s not like the usual shit. It’s different. Good different. Like—light, clean, almost makes you feel like you're floating."

You recoiled like she’d just offered you a live grenade.

"Candy?" you echoed, disbelief painting every syllable.

She nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling.

"Yeah, yeah! It's like—flavored now too. Blue raspberry, strawberry, mango... You barely taste the chemical. It’s honestly amazing."

You shook your head, hard. "I’m not trying any—anything," you hissed.

"Especially not from a party full of strangers who can't even stand up straight."

She pouted dramatically. You crossed your arms. "Even if I wanted to," you said, voice dripping sarcasm, "which I don’t—who here would even have it?" That’s when her expression changed.

Just a flicker. The tiniest, guiltiest little smirk pulling at her lips.

Your stomach dropped. "No," you said instantly, hands coming up like you could physically push the idea away.

"No. No. Hell no—absolutely not—"

She laughed, biting her lip to keep from laughing harder, and leaned in closer like she was about to tell you the world’s worst-kept secret.

"I know a guy," she whispered.

You stared at her like she’d grown a second head.

"A guy?" you repeated, deadpan.

She nodded, looking way too pleased with herself. "He’s here tonight," she added, voice sing-song. " You’ll know him when you see him." You glared at her, heart hammering against your ribs.

"I hate you," you muttered.

"You love me," she winked, already tugging you by the sleeve toward the deeper part of the house, where the lights were darker and the music hit heavier. "And trust me," she called over her shoulder, voice lilting, teasing, almost daring—

"Once you meet him, you’re gonna thank me."

"You’re insane," you hissed, your hand locked around your best friend’s wrist as she dragged you through the crowd. She didn’t even look back. Her smile was wide, wild, laced with that glint she always got when she was about to ruin your life “for fun.”

"You’ll live," she sang, tossing her hair over her shoulder like this was some kind of spa retreat instead of a warehouse party that smelled like sweat and sins.

“I don’t want to do this—” you started.

“—But you will,” she interrupted sweetly, spinning around just enough to walk backward in front of you. Her grin widened. “Because deep down, you’re curious.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Curious about death?”

“No, baby. Curious about him.”

That shut you up. Just long enough for her to find the host—tall, tatted, and shirtless with a joint tucked behind one ear.

She leaned in, whispered something into his ear, and you saw the shift immediately.

He looked at you. Then looked away. Then nodded, jerking his thumb toward the staircase like it was some kind of sacred passage. Your heart thudded. You weren’t sure if it was nerves or instinct or maybe some chemical floating in the air that was already getting to you. The host didn’t say much. He just started walking.

You followed. Up the narrow stairs, the music from below muffled with every step, swallowed by thick carpet and the weight of something else something unspoken.

The second floor was nothing like the first. It was quieter. Cooler. Dimmer. The walls were bathed in low amber light, shadows kissing the corners of the ceiling. The smell of weed still lingered but it was cleaner here. No bodies pressed up on you. Just tension. You and your bestie stopped in front of a plain beige door except there was nothing plain about it. Not the way the host stood before it, like he was entering a goddamn chapel. Not the way your pulse surged in your ears.

He knocked in a rhythm.

Tap. Tap-tap. Tap.

Three beats. Deliberate. You barely had time to ask what the hell that meant before the door creaked open.

And then—

There he was. Hwang Hyunjin. Not a man. Not a boy. A myth standing in flesh, leaning into the doorframe like sin was second nature. Thick black sunglasses hid his eyes, but you felt them.

Watching you. Eating you alive. A leather jacket hung off one shoulder, worn and heavy, the collar dipped low enough to show the soft stretch of his collarbone beneath an army-green tee.

There were rings on nearly every finger—silver, heavy, clicking softly as he tapped one against the wood of the door.

The campus knew of him long before they knew him.

Hwang Hyunjin—the name alone carried this weighty, smoky air like a legend passed around in dorm rooms and late-night parties. No one really knew where he came from exactly; transfer student, runaway, trust fund rebel—every rumor had a different flavor, but they all agreed on one thing:

He was untouchable.

Hyunjin rolled through campus like a storm dressed in leather and silver. White hair buzzed, gold chains, heavy rings, combat boots that thudded against the marble floors. And those sunglasses... indoors, at night, during exams—no one questioned it anymore. Because Hyunjin wasn’t just a student.

He was the Candyman.

If you needed something to survive a brutal week—pills to stay awake, smoke to mellow out, a little powder to blur the edges of a rough night—Hyunjin was the one you found. Or, more accurately, he found you. It wasn’t about the money for him, not really. He had it. It wasn’t even about power, even though the campus bent and buzzed around him like bees to honey.

It was about control. About being the one thing everyone secretly needed but no one dared to claim in the daylight.

His lips curled into a lazy smirk. That type of smirk. The kind that says, I already know what you’re gonna ask… and I already know you’ll beg for it.

"Yoo," he greeted your bestie casually, voice low and smooth as dark honey.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek like it was tradition. Like she was just another regular in his church of temptation. Your stomach twisted. He hadn’t even looked at you yet. Your friend tilted her head toward you.

"This is my girl," she said, smiling like this was some kind of glorious gift she was offering him.

"She’s curious."

That made him move.

His head turned—slow, precise.

And then—finally—his eyes landed on you.

Even behind the glasses, you felt it. The shift. The sting. The trap. He didn’t speak. Didn’t smile. Just looked at you like you were something breakable and delicious all at once. You felt your heart stumble. The hallway air seemed to thicken, weighed down by his silence, by the way he looked at you. Slowly, he stepped aside. Just enough to let the door open wider.

He didn’t ask your name. Didn’t ask what you wanted.

Just said, quietly,

"Come in."

When you stepped past the threshold, it hits you like a velvet slap. The smell. It’s thick. Heavy. A mix of sweet syrupy grape-flavored smoke, musk, and something spicy like cinnamon gum and danger. Not the kind of weed scent that clings to a hoodie after a backyard sesh. No, this is premium, imported, rolled by hands that know rituals better than religion.

And the room? It’s a vibe. The lighting’s low and moody—just a few red LED strips curling along the corners of the ceiling like blood vessels, and a neon pink sign over the bed that reads:

SWEET TOOTH.

There’s no overhead light. Just shadows dancing in corners. A king-sized bed with deep wine-colored silk sheets lies untouched, perfectly made like it hasn’t been used yet tonight but the couch, the couch is war-torn. It’s low to the ground, plush, velvet, L-shaped, and crowded.

Four people lounge across it—two girls, legs tangled, laughing with their heads thrown back like everything’s funny when you’re high enough. One guy with dyed blue hair lazily exhaling smoke from a rose gold vape pen, letting it curl around the room like a spell.

And another guy with locs and a septum ring sitting shirtless on the floor in front of them, nodding to the bass playing low from a speaker tucked into the shelf—some underground R&B that makes you feel drunk just listening.

There’s a low glass table in the center. On it? Everything from edibles shaped like gummy bears to powdered "candy" in sleek, silver tins. A tray with perfectly rolled joints stacked like cigars. A black lighter shaped like a skull. Half-drunk wine glasses and three bottles of expensive vodka with the caps missing. It’s organized chaos. It’s the kind of place where secrets are currency. Where loyalty is shown in silence. Where rules are only suggestions…unless Hyunjin makes them.

And he?

He glides in like he owns the air itself. His buzzcut looks almost metallic under the light—white-blond and razor-sharp, adding edge to the smoothness of his presence. He doesn’t say much. Doesn’t need to. He snaps his fingers once—not loud, just casual—and someone tosses him a joint. He catches it one-handed, lights it with that skull lighter, then turns to your bestie with a smirk that says this ain’t her first trip.

Your friend? She slides right in. She throws herself onto the couch, instantly welcomed like a sister of the smoke. One of the girls lifts her legs for her to sit, then plops them right back in her lap. The guys dap her up. One even kisses her hand.

She fits here. Like velvet to velvet. She’s already laughing, already high, already home.

And you? You’re standing at the door like a wide-eyed lamb in a room full of predators with perfect cheekbones. Hyunjin notices. Of course he does. He walks past you—not looking, not touching, but his presence brushes against you like a breath of hot air.

He leans down by the table, grabs a tin of candy, and offers it to your best friend without a word.

She pops one into her mouth, hums, and turns to you.

"Still nervous, baby?" she teases, licking her bottom lip. "You don’t have to do anything. Just… feel it. Try it. Or don’t. But you gotta breathe."

You’re about to respond when Hyunjin finally speaks. Soft. Lazy. Velvet-over-glass. “You brought her to the garden,” he says, eyes still not on you.

“She can pick the fruit if she wants to.” And now? Now he turns. Finally looks at you, jawline clenched slightly from the drag of the joint between his fingers. His voice is lower this time, smoky.

"What's your name, angel?"

You tell him your name. It comes out soft, stuck somewhere between your lips and the tightness in your chest. He hums it. Slowly. Like he's letting it melt on his tongue.

“Pretty,” he says, letting the word linger in the low fog between you. And then he leans in.

Closer.

He’s not even touching you, not really, but somehow his heat is crawling up your spine like your nervous system has been hijacked. He cocks his head, eyes half-lidded but locked in, and asks,

"So… why’d you come here?" Your throat closes up.

You blink—once, twice—trying to form a sentence that doesn’t sound like “because you look like sin and salvation at the same time.”

Instead, your voice comes out breathy.

“I-I didn’t plan to… My friend, she—she said— I mean I wasn’t gonna—”

Hyunjin grins.

Not mocking. Not smug. But slow and warm like he finds your panic endearing. He raises an eyebrow and taps the side of the tin in his hand.

“You ever tried any before?”

You shake your head quickly. “No. Never.”

“Mmm,” he murmurs. “Then we’ll start with something light.”

He reaches into the tin. Fingers poised. And just before he picks, you blurt it out—

“No—wait!”

Your voice cracks, a little too loud for the hush in the room.

Some heads turn but your bestie just watches, wide-eyed and hopeful like she’s seeing you shed skin for the first time. Hyunjin freezes. His eyes flick up.

You swallow hard.

“I don’t want light,” you whisper. “I want to forget. I want to forget what happened. Please.” It slips out of you, ragged and raw—like someone tore the band aid without warning. Hyunjin stares at you for a long moment. The music fades into background haze. Then he exhales smoke through his nose, slow and thoughtful.

“…Are you sure? Whatever happened can’t be that bad?” Your best friend chuckles from the couch “Yes, yes it was.” And even though your lungs tighten and your stomach flips, you nod.

“Yeah.”

He holds your gaze for a beat longer. Something unreadable flickers in his expression. He doesn’t smile this time. Instead, he reaches into the tin and pulls out a candy glossy, smooth, faintly lavender in color.

“Okay,” he says. “This one’s special.”

You take it with trembling fingers. Place it on your tongue. Let it melt. The taste hits slow at first—floral, citrusy… like honey and thunderstorms.

And then—

Your body begins to slip.

The floor becomes the sky. The air is liquid silk sliding against your skin.

Everything feels warm not hot. Not burning. Just… comfortable. Like slipping into a tub the exact temperature of your soul. Your head lolls back, and a lazy giggle escapes before you can catch it.

“I feel like... like the air is... hugging me,” you slur, your voice soft and half-lidded. “Hugging... hugging real tight.” Hyunjin’s beside you now, arm supporting your back before you even realize your knees started to give. You fall into him. And he lets you. His hand finds your hip like it was made to sit there. The other one gently cups the back of your head, guiding it to rest against his chest. His shirt smells like smoke and sandalwood and something lemony, something fresh.

“You’re okay, angel,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. Your hands clutch his shirt like it’s the only solid thing left in this world. Your words spill like syrup.

“I—mm, I thought you’d be mean... like cold and scary, you know? But you’re... you’re like... warm. Like toast." Hyunjin chuckles. Soft. “Toast, huh?”

“Mmhm. Fancy toast. Like... croissants.”

He laughs again, low and fond, and something about that sound sends goosebumps all down your spine. Meanwhile, your best friend is squealing half-laughing, half-sniffling.

"Look at her! Oh my god, she’s so gone—finally! It’s what she needed."

But Hyunjin doesn’t let you fall apart in public. He gently lifts you, one arm around your waist, the other keeping your head steady against his shoulder.

“Come on,” he says, mostly to himself. “Let’s sit somewhere quieter.”

He guides you to a corner of the room just far enough from the noise. Still low light, but more cushion. A loveseat covered in faux fur and velvet pillows. He settles down, pulling you gently into his lap like it’s instinct. You curl into him, face hidden in his neck. And his arms stay locked around you, firm but not suffocating. Like he’s not going to let you drift too far.

You sigh into his skin.

“Your heart's loud... I can hear it...” Your fingers rest on his chest.

And Hyunjin? He doesn’t say anything. He just lets you listen.

Your body’s loose.

Your thoughts, liquid. You’re sprawled in his lap like he was made to catch you, and maybe he was because he hasn’t let go of you since the second you melted into him. You’re safe here. You know that. But your lips still ache. And your fingers start to wander first curling into the cotton of his tee, then trailing up his chest, brushing the silver chain around his neck. Absent-minded. Delirious.

And then—

You tilt your head up, eyelids heavy, gaze glazed and pleading.

“Hyunjin…”

He hums, low in his throat, not quite a word. His hands rub slow circles into your back. You lick your lips.

“I wanna kiss you.”

Hyunjin goes still. The air changes—like the music pulled back, the shadows leaned in. He clears his throat. “You’re high,” he says softly. “You don’t want that. You just think you do.”

“I do want it,” you mumble. “Been wanting it since you said my name.” He sighs through his nose. “You don’t mean that.”

“Do too,” you pout, slurring. Your fingers slide up to his jaw, tracing the sharp edge of it. “You’re so pretty. You’re like—like an angel that smokes weed and paints with blood.” That pulls a laugh out of him. Raspy, reluctant. But real.

“Jesus,” he mutters, and tries to look away—

But your hand tugs his chin back to face you. “Can I?” Your voice drops into a whisper.

“Can I kiss you? Just a little?” His jaw tightens.

He’s quiet. And you can see it in his eyes—the war. The part of him that wants to be good. Respectful. Safe. But also the part that’s been dying to know what you taste like since you first sat across from him. “You’re not thinking straight,” he murmurs, but it’s not a no. You hear it—the edge in his voice. Like it’s costing him everything to stay still.

“Please, Jinnie…”

The way you say his name? He flinches. Almost imperceptible. But his hand clenches the velvet cushion behind you. You lean in. Close. Lips brushing his cheek, then trailing toward his jaw.

“I just wanna feel something real,” you whisper. “And you feel… real.”

And that’s when he breaks. A breath. Shaky. Shattered. His hand slides to the back of your head. The other curls around your waist like instinct.

“…Just one,” he warns, his voice gravel, threaded with restraint. “Just one and we stop.”

But you’re already leaning in, lips parted—

And when they touch his? Everything stops. The kiss is supposed to be soft. Chaste. But it isn’t. Not when your mouth still tastes like that candy sweet, citrusy, dizzying. Not when your lips part for him so easily. Not when you moan his name into the kiss like you’ve been holding it back for days. Hyunjin groans low in his throat, like the taste is hitting him. The drug lingers on your tongue magnetic, devastating. And it messes with his head.

His grip tightens. The kiss deepens. Your hands find his chest, sliding up his neck to tug at the back of his buzzed hair, and his lips open wider, tongue slipping into your mouth like a man starved. It’s not careful anymore. It’s hungry. You shift in his lap, thighs sliding over his hips, and he lets out a hiss between kisses, one hand falling to your hip to steady you. (But God, he doesn’t want you to stop moving.)

“Shit,” he gasps against your lips. “We shouldn’t—fuck, we shouldn’t—”

But he doesn’t stop. His mouth finds yours again, sloppier this time. Open. Wet. Wanting. You’re gasping now soft, whimpering sounds between kisses, hands all over him like your body’s trying to memorize every ridge of him before the high fades.

Hyunjin is losing it. Your taste, your voice, the way your thighs bracket him so carelessly it’s driving him insane. He pulls back for a second, breath heaving, eyes wild.

“God, you’re gonna ruin me,” he says, voice wrecked.

You smile, dazed and drunk on more than the drug.

His lips are flushed.

Yours are glossy. The air around you is thick with weed smoke and tension, the kind that clings to skin and sinks into your lungs. Music thumps in the background, the kind of rhythm you feel in your chest more than your ears. Someone’s laughing on the other side of the room, but it sounds miles away.

Because all you can focus on is him.

Hyunjin. Eyes gleaming under the hazy lights. Hands warm around your waist. Lips still wet from the last kiss you gave him like he was air and you were drowning.

You giggle against his jaw, all dazed and mischievous.

“You taste like peach gum.” Hyunjin huffs a breathy laugh, cheeks pink, eyes dangerously soft.

“You taste like trouble,” he murmurs.

“And you like trouble, don’t you?” you tease, tilting your head so your lips graze under his jaw dangerously close to that pulse that jumps beneath his skin. He opens his mouth to respond, but you don’t give him the chance.

You kiss him again. Harder this time. Your hands tangle behind his neck, and you press your chest to his like your body already knows exactly where it belongs. His head tips back slightly, letting you take the lead—inviting it, even. Hyunjin’s hands have found your thighs now, gripping gently, but tight enough to let you know he’s still hanging on.

Barely. You move your mouth to his neck, and the second your lips latch onto that soft patch of skin under his ear? He chokes on a breath. His fingers dig in just a little. You start to suck.

Hyunjin swallows hard. “Y/N… f-fuck…” His voice is so wrecked you barely register the click of a phone camera a few feet away. But your best friend sees it all.

Her eyes widen. She zooms. She snaps the picture. And then—

Finally, your bestie calls your name loud.

“Y/N!”

You blink, half-lidded and high, and lazily pull back from Hyunjin’s neck. “Huh?” She points at you from across the room, phone still in hand. “Get off of him! You’re embarrassing yourself, babe!”

You pout like she just took away your favorite toy.

“No…” you murmur, nuzzling back into Hyunjin’s neck. “I wanna stay with him. He’s warm…”

Hyunjin laughs under his breath, half flustered, half wrecked. “You’re really not making this easy, you know that?” You wrap your arms tighter around his neck like a koala. “Don’t wanna be easy.” Hyunjin bites his lip. “Oh my god,” your best friend groans, stomping toward you. “Get your lips off his neck before I come drag you!” You glance at her then back at Hyunjin.

And with the most impish grin?

You go right back in. Hyunjin makes a noise—somewhere between a groan and a laugh—his hands now trying to gently push you off. “Okay, okay, hold on—wait—nope, not the neck again, that one’s still—oh god—Y/N!”

But he’s laughing. He’s loving it. Your lips drag against his throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses as you giggle, high and loose.

Until—

“GIRL, I SWEAR—”

You’re yanked off of him by the arms. “NOOO!” you whine, kicking gently as your best friend pulls you away like an angry mom removing her child from a boy at the playground.

“Let me goooo, I was gonna kiss him again!” Hyunjin leans back on the couch, dazed, buzz a dissarranged mess, neck marked and shining, smiling so wide you’d think he just won the lottery. “You’re insane,” your best friend hisses. “She’s cute,” Hyunjin says with a wink, his fingers brushing the hickey you gave him. “Kinda possessive though.” You reach out for him again like a drunk kitten. “Hyunjinnnnn—”

And he just laughs, shaking his head as he watches your best friend drag you off knowing damn well the second, she lets go? You’ll probably come running back. Hyunjin stands now, eyes low, playful smirk still tugging at his lips as he walks over and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You stare up at him like you’ve just a god.

“One more kiss?” you whisper, voice barely there.

Hyunjin pauses—like he’s considering, fighting every bit of logic in his head—but then he sees your pout. Your hands on his chest. The way your high has made you all gooey and clingy and sweet.

He sighs softly, then tilts your chin up.

“Alright. One more.”

He kisses you gently—slower this time. Less rushed. Less high, more… lingering. His fingers slip into your coat pocket mid-kiss, sliding in something small and smooth. Then—

He leans in again, lips barely brushing your ear.

“Call me when you’re sober. I want to know what you’re like when you remember everything.”

Your breath catches. Your body reacts before your brain can even register it. Goosebumps. Heart hiccuping. He pulls back just enough to see your fluttery expression, then smirks. Your best friend, holding another little bag of candy, gives Hyunjin a nod. “Thanks for the hospitality. She’s gonna be crying about you the entire way home, just so you know.”

He only shrugs, eyes locked on you. “Let her.”

---

You’re slumped in the back seat, head against the window, glossy eyes staring out at the blur of streetlights. The city looks like a dream—golden, liquid, not quite real. Kinda like how your lips still feel. Like he’s still kissing you.

Your best friend glances back at you. “You good?”

You sniffle. “No.”

She sighs. “What now?”

“I miss him…” you whisper dramatically, eyes welling up again. “He was so… perfect. Did you see his lips? Did you feel his voice? Why did you make me leave? Why did you do that to me?!”

Your best friend can’t help it. She laughs. “You’re gonna be so embarrassed tomorrow.”

“I don’t care,” you sniff, pouting. “I wanna call him. I’m gonna call him and tell him I love him.”

“You don’t love him, baby, you’re just high.”

You sit up, teary-eyed and passionate. “No. I love him. And his buzzcut. And his pants. And his hands. And—and the way he whispered in my ear like he meant it!” Your best friend grabs your phone before you can unlock it. “Nooope. You’re not drunk texting a man named Hyunjin at 2am while still tripping.”

“But he put his number in my pocket like a movie, girl…”

“Exactly why you’re not texting him.”

You sniff again, quiet for a beat… then—

“I’m gonna marry him.”

“Oh my god—”

“I’m gonna marry him and we’re gonna have a cat named Bento and he’s gonna kiss me like that every morning—”

“Lord have mercy.”

You curl into the seat, hugging yourself, eyes glassy but soft. “He was so sweet, though… and so pretty…”

And back in the party? Hyunjin’s still sitting on the couch, head tilted back, lips still tingling. Smiling to himself. Your gloss is still on his mouth.

And he doesn’t wipe it off.

---

The second you stumble into the dorm, the scent of Hyunjin—cologne, weed, and that warm skin-sweetness—follows you in like a ghost. You barely make it two steps before your best friend gently tugs on your arm and sets the mini first aid bag she keeps (because she’s that kind of responsible) on the kitchen counter.

“Alright,” she says, flipping the light switch, “before you go all ‘oh-my-god-he’s-the-love-of-my-life’ again, take this.”

You blink down at the painkiller and water bottle she hands you, pouting like she just asked you to eat your vegetables. “Whyyyy?”

“Because your body isn’t used to being blitzed, princess,” she sighs, brushing your hair back, “and tomorrow morning I’m not waking up to you crying in the toilet because your brain feels like scrambled eggs.” You groan dramatically but take it anyway—tossing the pill back and gulping the water down. Then you just stand there, slightly dazed, like you forgot what your body was supposed to do next. Your best friend nudges you toward your bedroom. “Go. Shower. You smell like a party and desperation.”

You scoff, wobbling off with a muttered, “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, bitch…”

You undress slowly, the cool air hitting your flushed skin. Every movement makes your brain feel like it’s lagging, but the moment the hot water hits your back?

He’s there.

Hyunjin. That smirk. That voice. Those lips.

Your fingers brush over your own mouth and you swear you can still feel him. Taste him. It’s like the water only wakes up the memories instead of washing them away. You press your forehead to the wall and groan. “God… I kissed the hottest man alive… and then moaned on his lap like a freakin’ drugged-up romance novel…”

And you didn’t regret a single second. You pad out into your room, towel still wrapped around you, head dizzy—not just from the drugs wearing off, but from something more dangerous: anticipation. You yank open your closet, tug on your oversized sleep shirt with trembling fingers, and then pause… eyes locked on your jacket hanging from the chair.

You rush over and plunge your hand into the pocket like it’s hiding treasure—because it is.

And there it is. Folded. A little crumpled. But still carrying the ghost of his fingers. Hyunjin’s number. Written in quick, slanted handwriting. With a small arrow. And a dumb little smiley face. Like he knew you’d be freaking out about it.

You grab your phone with sweaty hands, unlock it, and type his number in so fast your thumbs trip over themselves. Then you just stare at the message box. What do you even say to a man who kissed you while you were high and whispered the softest threat of obsession into your ear?

Eventually, you settle on something simple. Soft. Just barely flirty.

Y/N: “I’m home. Don’t think I’ll forget your face anytime soon.”

Then you hit send. And drop your phone like it’s radioactive. You climb into bed, sheets cool against your skin, body still thrumming. Every time you close your eyes, he’s there. Every time you breathe, it feels like he’s still on your lips.

You turn over. Then again. Then back. Still nothing. You reach over and check your phone. No reply yet. You groan and throw it on the pillow beside you.

“Hyunjin…” you whisper into the dark, cheeks flushed. “Please don’t ghost me, you beautiful demon…”

And that’s the last thing you remember before the painkiller kicks in, your lashes flutter shut, and you drift off…

Dreaming of slow kisses and smirks that should come with a warning label.

---

The light bleeding through your window is offensive. Aggressive. Your eyes crack open with the kind of regret that clings to your bones. Mouth dry. Muscles sore. Thoughts? Scattered like your dignity at that party. You try to sit up—bad idea. The world does a cute little somersault. You flop back down like a Victorian woman mid-faint.

“…am I dying?” you croak, your voice sounding like a gremlin’s first words.

Your phone buzzes somewhere beside you. You fish around, knock it off the bed, cuss dramatically, then finally snatch it up like a beast reclaiming its prey.

Your screen lights up with two notifications:

Hyunjin: Couldn’t forget you if I tried. Let me know when you wanna kiss me while sober.

Crazy AHH: 4 Attachments. Caption: MY GIRL WAS GONEEEEEE LMAOOO

Your soul leaves your body. Ascends. Then crash-lands straight back into your chest with a painful thump. You open the photos. And boom—there you are.

—Straddling Hyunjin’s lap.

—Your hand in his buzzcut.

—Your face halfway eaten by his.

—One pic is blurry because you’re literally giving him a hickey with enthusiasm.

You let out the most horrified gasp known to man. “I WAS A MENACE.” You don’t bother changing. You don't brush your teeth. You're marching down the hall like a woman on a mission—shirt askew, socks mismatched, your hair doing post-apocalyptic things.

You throw open your best friend's door like you pay rent for it. “WHAT. THE. FUCK.” She’s sitting cross-legged, happily eating dry cereal out the box. Doesn’t even flinch. “Good morning, slut.”

“DELETE. THOSE. PHOTOS.”

She squints, pops another Frosted Flake into her mouth. “Hmm... no.”

“YOU TOOK A PICTURE OF ME TONGUING A STRANGER—”

“Technically not a stranger. Technically a drug-dealing, underground-party-hosting, buzzcut-having, Greek-god-lookin’ legend.” She grabs her phone and waves it. “And technically? I took four.”

You groan and faceplant into her bed. Your muffled voice whines, “I gave him a hickey… I think I begged him to kiss me…”

“Oh, you begged all right,” she hums proudly. “Full-on ‘please daddy I need it’—like a champ.”

“Kill me.”

“Can’t. You’re finally interesting now.”

You roll over, dazed. “God… I barely remember anything. It’s like flashes. Warm hands. Cold couch. His mouth…” She sits beside you, patting your thigh. “I gotchu. Here's the SparkNotes version: You showed up, shy. He showed up, hot. You tasted one slightly rebellious candy drug and then proceeded to fall in lust like a Disney princess on molly.”

You groan again, pulling a pillow over your face. “I have to apologize. Like, actually. To his face. I was so embarrassing—he probably thinks I’m a psycho.” She gives you a look. “Babe… you kissed him like the rent was due.”

“EXACTLY. I need to apologize or die trying.”

“Well, good luck with that,” she chirps, hopping up. “You’ll probably never see him again. Hyunjin doesn’t do public appearances like that. Man’s like the final boss of a video game. Rare sightings only.”

You blink. “Wait… seriously?”

She shrugs. “I’ve only seen him four times. And once was in a dream. Whenever he’s doing transactions and stuff he’s rarely the one delivering by himself.” You sit there, pillow clutched to your chest, brain slowly rebooting. You want to laugh. Cry. Apologize to the ghost of your sober self. Then you grab your phone again and reread his message.

Couldn’t forget you if I tried. Let me know when you wanna kiss me while sober. Your heart does a little somersault.

You whisper, almost reverently, “Maybe… just maybe... I’m his glitch.”

Your best friend throws a sock at you.

“Get your high ass up and drink some water, Romeo.”

Back in your room, the walls feel too quiet. Like they’re watching you. Judging you. Whispering behind your back like, “That’s the girl who turned into a Greek tragedy over a man with cheekbones.”

You shut the door and lean your forehead against it. You exhale.

“…okay,” you murmur to yourself. “Okay. Breathe. Be normal. Apologize. Then die.”

You shuffle over to your bed, plop down like you’re made of wet laundry, and snatch your phone again. Hyunjin’s message is still glowing on the screen like a taunt:

Couldn’t forget you if I tried. Let me know when you wanna kiss me while sober.

Your thumbs hover.

You type:

Hey, I'm so sorry—

Backspace.

Hi, I really didn’t mean to—

Backspace.

This is embarrassing but—

Delete.

You sigh, fingers shaking like you’re defusing a bomb. Then you finally send:

Hey. I’m so sorry for last night. I was out of it. Like... a lot. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable or weird you out. I never do that. I’m not even the type to go out like that. I literally came for candy and my best friend.

You watch the little “Delivered” icon appear. Then panic sets in. So you send another.

Like, I’ve never even smoked anything before. Not even cigarettes. Or like… cinnamon sticks. Okay that’s not a drug but you get what I mean.

Another.

The point is I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a mess. You were really sweet and I probably acted like a drunk toddler and I kissed you without permission even though I begged and like—

You don’t stop.

—you probably think I’m crazy now but I promise I’m not I just had a lot on my mind and I kinda wanted to forget everything and you were there and you were really hot and then your lips tasted like strawberry sin and I kind of malfunctioned—

Before you can finish another unhinged paragraph, your phone buzzes violently.

Incoming Call: Hyunjin

You stare at it like it’s a mirage. Then, after a full 3 seconds of panic-screaming into your pillow, you pick up.

“H-Hello?”

There’s a chuckle. Low. Warm. Smooth like velvet soaked in caffeine.

“Damn, angel. Did your thumb get possessed or something?”

You groan, already facepalming. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. That was a spiral. I spiraled. I tunneled. I backflipped into hell.” “Yeah, I could tell,” he laughs. “I was trying to respond, but you were texting like your life depended on it.”

“It did!!” you cry dramatically. “I defiled you in public and now I’m gonna get banned from every party within a five-mile radius.”

“Oh please,” he snorts. “If anything, you just made the party memorable. And gave me a free neck tattoo.” You whimper. “You moaned, didn’t you?”

“…A gentleman never confirms nor denies such things.”

You groan again and flop backward on the bed, phone against your cheek.

Then, quieter, “I just… I really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’ve never been that out of it before.” His voice softens. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I was just trying to be careful with you.”

A pause. “Did you mean what you said? About trying to forget something?” You swallow. “Yeah. I just had a rough week. And for a second, when I was with you, it felt like none of it mattered.”

The line goes quiet. Then he murmurs, “Well… for the record? I liked holding you. You talk a lot when you’re high. But it was cute.”

“…I talk a lot when I’m sober too,” you mumble, a bit shy now.

“I know,” he says smugly. “I read your entire novel in real-time.”

You both laugh, and the sound makes your chest warm. Then he hums, voice deepening just a touch. “So… you still wanna kiss me while sober?”

Your breath catches.

“…maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

You’re curled up on your bed, tangled in your sheets like some post-drama princess, phone still pressed to your ear like it’s a lifeline. Hyunjin’s chuckling softly on the other end, and your cheeks are still warm from the way he said “I’ll take that as a yes.” Like it was obvious. Like you were already his.

You roll your eyes, trying not to smile too wide.

Then he drops it, real casual:

“So… when can I take you out?”

You blink. “Wait, what?”

“A date, babe,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You, me, daylight. I wear a shirt with sleeves. We eat food. Talk without the scent of questionable choices in the air.”

You sit up a little. “…You wanna take me out.”

“Mhm.”

You frown, trying to piece together the logic. “But… I’ve never seen you on campus. Like ever. You just—appear at parties like the final boss of temptation and then vanish.” You hear his breath hitch in a laugh. “The final boss of temptation, huh? That’s a new one.”

You shoot back, “Don’t dodge it. Seriously. Why now? Why start showing up now?” There’s a pause. A short one. Then he exhales through his nose.

“I don’t really hang out on campus unless I have to. Most of my classes are online this semester, and… I guess I just keep to my space. Fewer people, less noise.”

He adds after a beat, “I’m not… sketchy. No offense taken. I get why you’d think that. I just know when I’m in the right place, with the right people, and when I’m not.”

You stay quiet. Processing.

“And about last night,” he continues, voice steady. “That wasn’t me out of control. I don’t take anything unless I know I can handle it. There’s always someone there I trust, and I don’t make it a habit. No addiction. No spiraling. Just sometimes… I need a little quiet in my head too. You get that?”

You do. God, you do.

“So…” he says again, soft and sweet like caramel left too long in the sun. “Give me a chance. Let me show up. No candy, no smoke, just me. Sober. Present. And I promise you—”

You hear the smile in his voice.

“—the sober kiss will be worth it.”

You groan, flopping back against your pillows with your arm thrown over your face. “You’re so annoyingly smooth.”

“I really am,” he agrees smugly.

You exhale. Your heart’s doing that annoying thing again thudding way too fast for someone who was just whining into her pillow about this man twenty minutes ago. But then you smile, teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“…Okay.”

“Yeah?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Hyunjin. You can take me out.”

He exhales dramatically. “Thank God. I was one dramatic inner monologue away from begging.”

You snort. “I was already there last night.” “I remember,” he teases. “Vividly.” You’re already regretting this. And also looking forward to it way too much.

---

Parked just outside the gates of your dorm area, it’s warm in the backseat of Hyunjin’s car. Not temperature warm, energy warm. Like the windows are fogged with heat they didn’t even notice rising. Your fingers are tangled in the lapels of his jacket, your lips still tingling from the last breathless kiss, and Hyunjin’s hands are at your waist, thumb tracing soft, unconscious circles against your top. You both pause, lips inches apart, breathing each other in, and then he laughs. Quiet. Airy. Disbelieving.

“How did we even get here?” he mutters, forehead brushing yours.

You grin, leaning back just enough to raise a brow.

“Oh, I’ll tell you how,” you say, poking his chest, and he watches you like you’re a slideshow of every one of his favorite moments.

Earlier That Night

It started at that art café you never knew existed—dim lights, jazz playing low, the scent of coffee and paint lingering in the air. Hyunjin had booked one of the private studio pods in the back. You raised a brow when you walked in and saw the two canvases and all the paint.

“Don’t tell me we’re painting each other,” you teased.

“I was gonna say your soul,” he replied dramatically. “But sure, your face works.”

You both ended up painting… chaos. He painted a cartoon version of you with exaggerated lips and a crown of Cheetos, and you drew a sad pigeon with his hairstyle. You laughed so hard your stomach cramped, and Hyunjin got paint on your nose—on purpose. Then he wiped it off with his sleeve like a gentleman, only to accidentally smear green on your cheek.

Afterward, he took you for tacos. Not a fancy restaurant. A literal taco truck parked near the river with plastic chairs and napkins that flew if you didn’t hold them down.

“I like it simple,” he said with a shrug, handing you a bottle of Jarritos. “Besides, the best dates end with oil stains on your shirt.”

“Bold of you to assume this is one of the best,” you teased.

He tilted his head, smiled lazily. “It is.”

You tried not to blush. Failed. He noticed.

Then came the riverside walk. He didn't rush it. You talked about favorite movies, bad habits, weird childhood dreams. You found out he used to write poetry. He found out you used to pretend you were on a reality show whenever you were alone in your kitchen.

“I still do,” you admitted, and he laughed so hard he tripped over a pebble.

The stars came out. You leaned into his side.

And now—backseat of his car. Lips swollen. Breath short.

“So yeah,” you whisper now, fingers tugging gently at his jacket. “That’s how we got here. From pigeons to tacos to… tongue.”

Hyunjin grins, gaze flicking to your lips. “What a cinematic journey.” You hum, thumb brushing over his cheek. “Can we go back to making out now?” His grin turns slow and sinful. “Sure thing, baby.” You slap his chest. “Don’t—call me that.”

He leans closer. “Why not, baby?” You whine, actually whine, and smash your lips to his.

The kiss that follows is messier than the last. Greedier. No pauses this time. His hands find your thighs, your fingers curl in his hair, and he moans quietly into your mouth when your teeth graze his bottom lip.

It’s intoxicating—the way you fit, the way the tension coils tighter with each touch. His jacket ends up discarded somewhere between the seats, and your lipstick is absolutely wrecked. He doesn’t care. Neither do you.

And when he pulls away for breath, pupils blown and lips swollen, he smirks.

“We should get lost more often.”

The windows of Hyunjin’s car are fogged over, the air thick with warmth and echoes of every kiss traded like secrets. Now, your head rests on his shoulder, your fingers curled lightly into the folds of his sleeve, and his arm is slung lazily around your waist like he couldn’t let go even if he tried.

It’s silent for a while.

Not awkward—comfortable. Like the universe finally stopped spinning for just the two of you.

You sigh, tilting your head slightly to look at him. “Can I ask you something?” Hyunjin turns his gaze down to you, that soft half-smile forming again. “You already are, aren’t you?”

You flick his chest gently. “I’m serious.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, shifting so he’s facing you a little more, one leg folded up on the seat. “What’s on your mind, pretty?” You play with the hem of his hoodie for a second, then look up. “How’d you get into… all this? The candy. The job. Everything.”

His smile dims—not in a sad way, more in a way that says he wasn’t expecting that, but he’s not running from it either. He looks away for a beat, his thumb still stroking circles into your side.

“It started with my cousin,” he says after a moment. “He was older. Got into the wrong crowd, dragged me along when I was still trying to figure out what the hell to do with my life. First time I ever touched anything was at a house party with him. I hated it.”

You glance up at him. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “I hated how it made me feel like I wasn’t in control. But then… life kept hitting. My parents got divorced. I flunked out of a program I didn’t even care about. Everyone expected me to be something I wasn’t, and—” he sighs, resting his head back against the seat. “Taking just the right amount? Made me feel like I had room to breathe again.”

You nod slowly, your hand finding his and holding it. “Do you take it often now?”

“Not really.” He looks at you again. “I know my limit. I help people who don’t. I only ever take it when I’m sure of myself. When I’m in control.” You study his profile. He looks so different in the dark. Less cool. More real. More Hyunjin, less the mystery boy with perfect lips and a car too nice for a college kid.

You lean your head on his chest. “What would you be doing if you weren’t in that world?”

His voice is quiet, but honest. “I’d be painting.” You blink. “Painting?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles softly. “I actually got a partial scholarship to an art school. Didn’t take it. Thought it was stupid. Thought I was stupid.”

“You’re not,” you say immediately, looking up at him. “I think you’re—actually… you’re kind of amazing.” He lets that settle between you two for a second, then smiles—one of those real ones, the ones that tug at the corner of his lips slowly and warm his entire face.

“You think so, huh?”

You nod, cheeks heating. “Mhm.”

“Even after I gave you that sneaky light candy?”

You gasp in betrayal. “You lied to me?!”

“I saved you from passing out,” he laughs, nudging you with his shoulder. You’re both still giggling when you check your watch and—shit.

“Crap,” you sit up straighter, reaching for your phone. “I didn’t realize it’s so late. I have a lecture at eight, and if I show up hungover from sugar and spit-swapping, my professor will literally murder me.” Hyunjin chuckles, adjusting his seat so you can climb out more easily. “You sure you have to go?”

You look at him, biting your lip. “I really want to stay.”

He shrugs, running a hand through his hair. “Then make me your reward for surviving class.” You roll your eyes. “Wow. Humble.”

“But honest.” You lean forward, kiss his cheek. “Thanks for tonight.”

He tugs your wrist gently before you go, pressing one last kiss to your lips, softer than the others. “Sweet dreams, pretty. Text me when you get to your room, yeah?”

You smile. “I will.” And as you step out into the night, the cold biting against your skin, you swear you feel a little warmer than before.

---

The next morning, Hyunjin’s car still smelled like her.

Faint traces of her perfume clung to the back seat—warm, soft, something expensive-smelling but chaotic, like her. Like a scent that didn’t belong to one person, but to a thousand moments all tangled up together. The memory of her fingers curled in his shirt, the whimper she made when he bit her lip too gently, of her voice whispering “Can we go back to making out now?”—

Yeah. He was doomed. Hyunjin leaned back in the driver’s seat, now parked outside his place, staring at the ceiling like it might give him answers. His phone buzzed beside him. Not a notification. Not even a new text. Just the screen lighting up every few minutes from him checking it over and over again.

No new messages yet.

She’d made it back to her dorm. Texted him that she was in. Sent a sleepy, slurred voice note that said something like “Tell your backseat I said thanks for the ride, and your lips, too.”

God, he’d replayed it three times.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. She’s unhinged. He liked it. More than liked it. There was something wild about her. Something he couldn’t predict, couldn’t label. One minute she was pressing kisses down his neck like she owned him, the next she was asking him about his past with eyes full of genuine curiosity—not pity. Not judgment.

Real. She was real. In a way nothing else in his life had been for a long time. Most people flirted with him because they liked the thrill of his mystery, the edge of danger that came with his name. But not her. Not Y/N. She didn’t want the high. She wanted him. She asked him about his cousin. His art. His stupid dreams. Stuff no one ever cared about unless they were trying to get something.

She wasn’t trying to get anything.

Except maybe another kiss. He groaned, grinning at nothing. He hated being soft. He despised it.

And yet…

The softest he’d ever been was last night—his hands running down her spine as she giggled against his lips, her voice sleepy in his car, her smile tucked into his chest like it belonged there.

He grabbed his phone again. Opened her contact. No message yet. He typed something out. Deleted it. Tried again. Deleted that too. Eventually, he just saved her contact name as Backseat Bandit and laughed to himself. God, he was so gone.

Hyunjin turned the engine off, leaning forward to rest his head on the wheel. “What am I doing?”

Then his phone buzzed. A new message.

From her.

[YN]: Hey. Made it to class. Barely. I blame you. Also my lips still tingle. I think I hate you. But not really. Just a little. Okay bye.

Hyunjin smiled down at the screen like a complete fool.

Then typed out his reply:

[Hyunjin]: Still thinking about last night? Same. Hope your lecture’s boring so you think about me more. Also—I miss your lip gloss. And your mouth. In that order.

Send. He tossed his phone onto the passenger seat, smirking.

Let the chaos begin.

the picture did a number on me and i don't care if its edited.

Taglist: purple means i can't tag you

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#stray kids #stray kids x reader #straykids #skz #bystay #~kc's 💗#hyunjin #hyunjin scenarios #hwang hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #fanfiction #fics

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kissoflightning · 9 months ago

Text

Master-List of Active Detroit: Become Human Writers On Tumblr

(Updated November 22, 2024)

[Update includes the addition of some new names & AO3 but unfortunately the hyperlink is capped, so I still dropped their pseuds and regular links in the list!]

[Colors to indicate my reader checklist have been scrapped; Tumblr tag colors do not show up on mobile, so I have highlighted the AO3 names with the applicable colors.]

New to writing fiction for the fandom, or your name isn't on the list? Comment/Reblog and I will add your name to this post! Note that I am adding writers with fics already up on AO3/Wattpad only, but I will continue to add more as we grow!

Apologies for mass tagging people, but I wanted there to be a list of active DBH Fanfiction writers to make it easier to find each other on here! LINKS TO fanfic source and Tumblr are included!

I also would like readers to take note that EVERY WRITER that I post here will appreciate positive comments on their fic! Even if it's just a heart, emoji, "I enjoyed it", or "Second Kudos", it will MAKE THEIR DAY! Please comment on fics that you enjoyed no matter hold old they are!

Also stats such as Hits, Kudos, or the fact that I have read the fic is in no way a reflection of the quality of the fic! I will put the writers in alphabetical order based on their Tumblr name for organizational purposes!

Also if you wish to be taken off this list, just shoot me a DM and I will do so. It is so awesome that there are not only so many active DBH writers but also - if you made it to this list, that means you haven't blocked me yet, so Kudos to you for that! :D

[Update pending: Will add relationship/family/character tags in a future update on December 5th, 2024. (You can also feel free to comment your fave ship to write about in the replies) Sorry this is just a list of names with any distinguishing of category, but this already took so long, you will just have to try your luck! Please notify if one of or more of the links is wrong/broken; Tumblr has a limit on hyperlinks unfortunately, so for some I had to just drop their pseuds.

Color coding:

Recent - Updated within the past 3 months

Active - Writing for the Fandom (Updated within the last 13 months)

Hiatus - Updated over 13 months ago/Leaving Fandom

??? - 2+ Years Since Last Update/ No Longer Writing for the Fandom, but still replies to comments!!!

[Sometimes I'll mix colors 'cause they wrote recently but are leaving the fandom or something]

[Example of my color system would be:

@kissoflightning because this writer has posted a DBH fic in November, 2024]

Okay, brace yourself for a LONG LIST below the cut!

# - C

Tumblr: @8-rae-rae-8

AO3: emogoose

Tumblr: @a-feral-coffee-enthusiast AO3: Unfortunately_sentient

Tumblr: @aghostinmyownmachine @scribeofred @thewritinggrindstone

AO3: scribeOfRED

Tumblr: @alecthewreck AO3: AlecTheWreck

Tumblr: @andthekitchensinkao3 AO3: andthekitchensink

Tumblr: @angelgirl768 AO3: angelgirl768

Tumblr: @anonymousedward AO3: anonymousEDward

Tumblr: @autiacorart AO3: Autiacora

Tumblr: @archadianskies

AO3: Archaidian_Skies

Tumblr: @astrahannah AO3: AstraHannah

Tumblr: @average-mako-enjoyer

AO3: AverageMakoEnjoyer

Tumblr: @aydaptic AO3: Aydaptic (Fic & Webcomic)

Tumblr: @brokskar AO3: brokskar

Tumblr: @calamity-jc AO3: Calamity_JC

Tumblr: @chaos-thirium AO3: chaos_thirium

Tumblr: @connor-rk800 AO3: thespacebetweenstars

Tumblr: @connor-sent-by-cyberlife @timebird84

AO3: Connor sent by Cyberlife (Timebird84)

Tumblr: @connorboyyy AO3: hereforthegayy

Tumblr: @connorsjorts AO3: connorsjorts

Tumblr: @cptjh-arts (Fic Art) AO3: cptJH

Tumblr: @cryptidblossomd AO3: C0nt0l_cha0s

Tumblr: @changethecircumstances AO3: ChangeTheCircumstances

D-K

Tumblr: @detroitbecomeonline

AO3: TrinityOnline

Tumblr: @discodeviant AO3: DiscoDeviant

Tumblr: @einradi AO3: Einradi

Tumblr: @illegalvampire Wattpad: vampyrl0ser AO3: vampyrl0ser (TBD)

Tumblr: @incomprehensible-phasmid AO3: IncomprehensiblePhasmid

Tumblr: @insignova AO3: Insignova

Tumblr: @fadedflame

AO3: FadedFlame

Tumblr: @fizzlefudge AO3: FizzleFudge

Tumblr: @fumikosushi AO3: FumikoSushi

Tumblr: @gauzyfruitcake AO3: beeayy

Tumblr: @gavinisqueer @listeningboy AO3: ListeningBoy

Tumblr: @gildedfrost-ao3 AO3: GildedFrost

Tumblr: @glxyqst AO3: GLXYQST

Tumblr: @hauntedoneao3 AO3: HauntedOne

Tumblr: @headfulloffantasy

AO3: HeadFullOfFantasy

Tumblr: @hemlockdumpling AO3: Hemlock_Dumpling

Tumblr: @hothotpot

AO3: hothotpot (https://archiveofourown.org/users/hothotpot/pseuds/hothotpot/works?fandom_id=23172234)

Tumblr: @katlakitty AO3: katlakitty

Tumblr: @kamari2038 AO3: kamari2038

Tumblr: @karasgotagun @jazzmckay AO3: karasgotagun (jazzmckay)

Tumblr: @kissoflightning AO3: KissOfLightning

Tumblr: @konami-code-ao3 @alcatrazoutpatient AO3: AlcatrazOutpatient

L-N

Tumblr: @l1av AO3: L1av

Tumblr: @ladydrace

AO3: LadyDrace

Tumblr: @leelany-world AO3: Leelany

Tumblr: @lethotep

AO3: Lethotep

Tumblr: @lilaccadenza AO3: LilacCadenza

Tumblr: @littlehaize AO3: haize

Tumblr: @litoperezito (Webcomic) AO3: LitoPerezito

Tumblr: @lugiadepression

AO3: LugiaDepression

Tumblr: @mangabirdao3 AO3: Manga_bird Wattpad: Manga_bird

Tumblr: @mercilessflowchart AO3: Mercilessflowchart

Tumblr: @moonlitmilo AO3: MoonlitMilo

Tumblr: @mnictasbcl

AO3: mnictasbcl

Tumblr: @my-name-is-markus-with-a-k @unlisshed AO3: Unlisshed

Tumblr: @nartes

AO3: nartes

Tumblr: @negative-citadel AO3: Negative_Citadel

Tumblr: @nock-and-bolt

AO3: Nock_and_Bolt

Tumblr: @nothinggathers AO3: AtropaAzraelle (Polyoxyethylene)

O- S

Tumblr: @peachymilkshakes

AO3: peachienne

Tumblr: @peskellence AO3: peskellence

Tumblr: @r-ate-9

AO3: Kangarooney

Tumblr: @qrjung AO3 : qrjung

Tumblr: @ranunculus-bloom

AO3: Queerapika

Tumblr: @pseudonymmcwriter AO3: PseudonymMcWriter

Tumblr: @rking200

AO3: rking200 (Mawific)

Tumblr: @rk800-is-hot-change-my-mind @spensual AO3: Spensual

Tumblr: @sevdrag

AO3: sevdrag (seventhe)

Tumblr: @shinyportalsandthings AO3: FancyPantsu

Tumblr: @simping-for-kamski AO3: TranscientNight

Tumblr: @sunwarmed-ash AO3: sunwarmed_ash

Tumblr: @sweeteatercat AO3: SweetEaterCat

Tumblr: @systemic-dreams AO3: systemic_dreams

T-Z

Tumblr: @temporary-enthusiasm AO3: TemporaryEnthusiasm

Tumblr: @the-ineffable-wanderer

AO3: KetchupOnToast

Tumblr: @thenookienostradamus AO3: nookienostradamus (https://archiveofourown.org/users/nookienostradamus/pseuds/nookienostradamus/works?fandom_id=23172234)

Tumblr: @titaniumpsychologist

AO3: TitaniumPsychologist (https://archiveofourown.org/users/TitaniumPsychologist )

Tumblr: @veilder AO3: Veilder

Tumblr: @wamblings AO3: ambling

Tumblr: @wyntereyez @wynterscribbles @wyntergamez AO3: wyntereyez

Tumblr: @yayen-chan AO3: yayenchan

Tumblr (Inactive) : @zeliannetascho (Will actively discuss HCs with you in the breakroomDMs Discord server) AO3: ZeliaTascho

#Long post #KOL: Master List #dbh fanfic #dbh fanfic writers #dbh #detroit: become human #detroit become human #PLEASE COMMENT ON WORKS THAT YOU LIKE NO MATTER HOW OLD #links #ao3 #dbh fanfiction #KOL #wattpad #writers of tumblr #Detroit Fanfic Master List #dbh fandom #People actively writing DBH Fanfic #archive of our own

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ducksido · 29 days ago

Note

Hi! It's me again kskdkd take your time on making this no rush.

Housewarden (+other characters; you pick) with a yuu who's a pokemon trainer, their main pokemon is greninja and pikachu. How would the boys reacts to yuu's pokemon on battle or seeing Pikachu and Greninja for the first time?

Characters: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus (+Bonus: Lilia, Silver, Sebek, Rook)

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is instantly suspicious. You’ve brought unknown creatures into Heartslabyul? Without a permit?!

He first sees Pikachu perched on your shoulder during a tea party. “Yuu. That… rodent. It’s not some variant of a Savanaclaw familiar, is it?”

When Pikachu shocks Ace for teasing it, Riddle loses it. “Absolutely not! Electric attacks in a tea garden? That violates three house rules!”

When you explain Pikachu is a "partner in battle," and show him a battle with Greninja, he quiets down… impressed, if begrudgingly. “That frog is alarming. But I’ll admit… its movements are clean. Tactical. Not unlike a Spelldrive champion.”

Despite his complaints, he respects your discipline with them—especially Greninja's graceful execution of Water Shuriken.

Leona Kingscholar

Instantly intrigued. He spots Greninja training with you in the desert part of the Botanical Garden and raises a brow.

“That’s no regular monster. You summon it with no chant… and it obeys like a beast. Huh.”

Leona treats Greninja like a fellow predator. He watches it leap, disappear, and strike from the shadows. “Tch. Stealthy bastard. I like it.”

Pikachu? He’s less impressed. “The little mouse keeps shocking my tail. You gonna leash it or what?”

But when Pikachu zaps a group of Spelldrive players like it's nothing, he gives it a smirk. “Heh. Small and spicy. You’re lucky I don’t add him to my team.”

You may catch him throwing Greninja a meat skewer like a lion giving respect to another apex predator.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul’s first thought: “Can I market this?”

He sees Pikachu and Greninja for the first time after you help stop a delinquent group of Octavinelle students—your Pokémon made it look easy. “Fascinating! Creatures that battle on command, no potion or contracts? No binding rituals?”

He starts scribbling potential deals—Pokémon showcase nights, battle gambling rings, novelty plushies.

Pikachu shocks him after he tries to toss a Poképuff at it to win favor. “Y-you could’ve just said no…!”

Greninja, meanwhile, unnerves him. Its silent movements and ninja-like skill make Azul wary. “...It’s just staring. Does it breathe?”

Azul desperately wants a full classification of the Pokémon system. You later find him with a fake Pokédex app that Floyd coded.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim LOVES your Pokémon immediately.

“Whoa!! It’s like a little yellow camel-electrocuter! And the frog’s a ninja?! You’re the coolest, Yuu!!”

He’s constantly offering Pikachu dates, honey, or spicy curry. Pikachu is wary of Kalim’s chaotic energy.

Greninja silently blocks anyone too close to you—Kalim’s startled but delighted. “It’s like a personal ninja guard! You have your own bodyguard?! That’s so RAD.”

He asks to ride Greninja’s back like a surfboard. You… firmly decline.

Despite the chaos, Kalim genuinely adores them and tells Jamil he wants a ninja too now.

Vil Schoenheit

At first, Vil is skeptical. He thinks they’re messy and too cartoonish for his aesthetic standards.

“The mouse is… squeaky. And the frog has a scarf made of its own tongue? Hm.”

But then he watches a Pokémon battle. Greninja’s speed, control, and elegance win him over. “Its style of combat… fluid. Artistic. Like ballet meets warfare.”

Vil still insists Pikachu gets “groomed properly.” You catch him brushing Pikachu’s fur while muttering about texture.

He eventually develops a grudging respect, calling Greninja “the Gallant Shadow” and Pikachu “a spark of chaos.”

Idia Shroud

Idia IMMEDIATELY makes the comparison:

“Yo, yo, yo, hold up. This is just like ChronoMon—that one retro game with monster companions? Except... your guys look way cooler.”

Idia asks a million questions. How do you train them? Can they evolve? Do they faint or die? Do they lay eggs?

“Greninja’s got that stealth assassin build. Glass cannon type. I’d run him in PvP. Pikachu’s like the mascot type—very ‘main character energy’.”

He programs a game mod so he can simulate battles with your team.

Ortho is obsessed with Pikachu. They develop a “chu-to-chu” bond. Sometimes Pikachu rides Ortho like a flying mount.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus approaches Greninja like it’s a forest spirit. And Pikachu? He stares, silent.

“What realm do these familiars hail from? They are not of this world.”

When Pikachu shocks him accidentally, and he remains unfazed, you fear he might turn it to ash. But instead, he chuckles softly. “It bites. How quaint.”

Malleus recognizes Greninja’s shadowy nature and respects its strength. It reminds him of ancient magic warriors. “A shinobi of the mist. You are well-guarded, child of man.”

He offers to show them the fae forests of Briar Valley. You politely decline after Sebek nearly faints from the suggestion.

Bonus Characters

Lilia Vanrouge

“Oh~ what delightful creatures! That frog reminds me of the shinobi I fought in my youth!”

Lilia adores your Pokémon. He’s especially fond of Greninja’s ninja aesthetic.

“Back in my day, I used to vanish like that! Here, let me show you—poof!” (Cue him hanging upside down in a tree.)

Pikachu responds to his chaotic energy with playful static zaps.

Lilia swears he used to have a pet just like Pikachu, back in the “Ancient Beast Wars of Yesteryear.”

Silver Vanrouge

He’s startled when Pikachu zaps his hand while he sleepily reaches to pet it.

Greninja’s silent movements both impress and slightly unsettle him—he never hears it coming. “It’s… loyal. Strong. Like a knight in the mist.”

He treats Greninja with quiet respect and keeps a safe distance from Pikachu after learning it's “shock-happy.”

Sebek Zigvolt

PANIC. PURE PANIC. “A BEAST! A BEAST AT THE HUMAN’S SIDE!”

Screams when Pikachu glares at him. Immediately tries to defend Malleus. “I SHALL STRIKE IT DOWN!”

Pikachu shocks him once. He collapses theatrically. “I-I have failed… my Lord Malleus…”

Eventually, he accepts them as your "battle squires." Begrudgingly. While shaking.

Rook Hunt

“Oh là là… such curious prey!”

He adores Greninja. Says it is like a phantom cloaked in moonlight. Tries to follow it to test his own stealth.

Pikachu is cute, but not his type of hunt. He compares it to “a spark of divine mischief.”

He one hundred percent calls Greninja “La Lame Silencieuse” (The Silent Blade) and insists it is “the perfect prey... and protector.”

#twst #twst x reader #twst wonderland #twst yuu

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dovveri · 1 year ago

Text

twisted torturous love

synopsis: nayeon and your relationship has been on the rocks for some time now. when something finally breaks you apart, you find yourself lured back into her cycle of temptation. you could never get enough of her.

warnings: dom!nayeon who’s mean, manipulative, degrading, toxic! cheating, swearing, semi-public sex, fingering, cunnilingus, mirror sex, mommy kink, reader is reduced to nayeon’s dumb little baby aaaand edged once

w/c: 6.0k

a/n: requested! was in shock when i first got this like girl i could never write this and then i had an angsty weekend and i was like yk what! maybe i can! and i did! enjoy the filth if this is what ur into

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖

"where are you going?"

"out."

"where?"

"out."

you sigh in frustration, moving to stand in front of your door, blocking her exit and asking her again, "where are you going nayeon?"

she tuts, shoving her arms inside her leather jacket, picking out a cigarette, "move y/n."

"not until you tell me where you're going."

"why does it matter to you?"

"i'm your girlfriend. i want to know what you're getting up to without me."

"god y/n you're so fucking clingy. you don't have to know what i'm doing all the time. i have a life that exists outside of you too y'know?" she doesn't bother looking at you, trying to push past you to get out, but you resist.

"you used to like that i was clingy."

that makes her pause, finally looking at you. her eyes hurt you. she used to look at you with so much love, like you put the stars in the sky, rode the sun across the horizon each morning, now they're hollow and empty.

she turns away, forcing past you, "go to bed y/n."

you don't stop her this time when she slips her shoes on and slams the door closed behind her. you sigh, running a hand through your hair. things between the two of you haven't been good for a long time now. you don't know when it started, maybe it was when she started getting busier, preparing for her solo comeback, having to travel a lot more for her job leaving her with a lot less time to spend with you. or maybe it was when you started paying less attention to her when she was available to you, you wouldn't notice the way she smelt slightly different, didn't even realise she started smoking again despite caring so much about keeping her voice in top condition when she was younger. the slow deterioration of your relationship was certainly noticeable overtime, nayeon's members and your friends asking if the two of you were still together. you moved out and slept in your own bed a lot more than you slept in hers now, of course people were confused when the two of you were out with mutual friends but barely talked to each other, and then went home seperately.

you knew your relationship was hanging on by a thread, but a part of you still held hope that you could get back to what you once were. and nayeon must have felt something similar if she hasn't ended things with you yet. still, it wouldn't take much for that hope to break into a million little pieces.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖

the next morning you decide to try and make amends again. you were always the one to apologise first whenever you fought.

you punch in nayeon's apartment code, entering quietly and making sure the door doesn't make a sound when closing. but when you turn, you're faced with nayeon's apartment in a state you can only describe as filthy.

there are bottles lying everywhere, the smell of cigarettes making it hard for you to breathe. you immediately go to her kitchen window, opening it to let some fresh air in, her sink full of dirty dishes and takeaway boxes yet to be disposed of.

you habitually start cleaning. throwing out her trash and wiping down her countertop, not all that surprised that she hasn't woken up with the noise you're making. she was probably completely passed out judging by the state of alcohol bottles strewn across the apartment.

but then when you get to her living room and start picking up dirty laundry, you notice a skirt that was either new or definitely not nayeon's.

and then across the room there's a top that you've also never seen in nayeon's closet. you follow the trail to nayeon's bedroom door, shut tight, but you don't hesitate to open it gingerly, she was your girlfriend, you've seen her in all states of undress.

as you squint into the darkness of her room, you take a step forward, stepping on a bra that was not in nayeon's size and definitely not nayeon's.

your heart drops. you knew your relationship was on the rocks but you had never thought nayeon would be one to cheat. you always had complete and utter trust in her, even when she was overseas, she would always call or facetime you, making sure you didn't feel lonely without her despite her busy schedule and late nights.

just to confirm, because you still can't quite believe this is happening, you step closer towards the bed, eyes adjusting to the darkness better.

you peel back the blanket, and sure enough, the face you're looking at does not belong to the person you fell in love with. you're frozen for a second, staring down at the unfamiliar features, sharp lines, soft breaths.

and then all of a sudden the reality of it all hits you. you're stomping towards nayeon's blackout curtains, ripping them open and letting the midday rays flash into the room.

you turn on your heel, crossing your arms and wait for nayeon to realise you were there. the two people on the bed groan, trying to find where the source of sudden light was coming from. the girl you don't know sees you first while nayeon is still rolling around trying to crawl back under the sheets. she yelps at the unknown presence, pulling the sheets up to cover herself while nayeon groans, trying to pull the sheets back to cover her eyes.

now that there's more light, you can see the array of marks left across the girl's neck and collarbones. there's a pang of jealousy, remembering how nayeon used to mark you up like that, when you were still intimate that was.

"w-who are you?" the girl speaks up.

you scoff, "i should be asking you that."

you can see when nayeon's eyes open at the recognition of your voice, quickly scrambling up and reaching for her glasses on the nightstand, not bothering with modesty unlike her bedmate.

"y/n."

"so this is why you wouldn't tell me where you were going last night. you were going to fuck some other girl? how long has this been going on?"

nayeon stands, trying to calm you. you keep your eyes strictly on her face, not letting anything distract you from what she had done. "y/n wait i can explain. this was- i was drunk-"

"when are you not?"

she frowns, "that's not fair."

"isn't it? you were already tipsy when you came over to mine last night. and once that buzz wore off you just had to go out again and get drunk didn't you?"

"that's not- no-"

you tap your foot impatiently, "so who is she?"

nayeon looks back to the woman that's still in her bed, giving her a death glare that obviously meant get the fuck out of my house, the woman thankfully getting the message and scrambling upwards, pulling on her panties and then holding her chest while looking around for her bra.

you clear your throat, holding it up.

she blushes bright red, stepping forward and taking it from you, muttering a small thanks before dashing outside. you wait to hear the front door close before looking back at nayeon who's started to move around, cleaning her room up a little and putting on some clothes.

"she's no-one y/n. we just- i was drunk and she helped me home."

"i'm sure she helped you with some other stuff too." you glare daggers into her back, tracing the red scratch marks that are raked across the skin.

"don't be like that y/n."

"be like what?"

"look i made a mistake. okay? can we just move past this now?"

you scoff, "are you fucking serious nayeon? you didn't just make a mistake. you made the mistake."

nayeon turns now, fully dressed, her temper also flaring, "okay! and i admit it! i'm sorry! what more do you want?!"

"for you to actually fucking mean it! she's not even the first person you've cheated on me with is she?"

"what? what are you trying to say?"

"don't gimme that. i didn't want to believe it. when you'd come home smelling like someone else. when things would be better for short periods of time after you come back from your trips or from overseas, it was because you went and fucked out all your frustration right? frustration with this relationship? i'm sick of tiptoeing around this nayeon, let's sort our shit out right now because this has got to end somewhere."

"end?" nayeon laughs cruelly, "where do you want this to end y/n? if you've known i've been cheating on you for so long why haven't you ended things? are you so fucking pathetic you'd stay with someone who's actively sleeping with someone new every night?"

you're taken aback by her tone, but you steel yourself, spitting right back, "well if you think i'm so pathetic why haven't you broken things off?"

"too much work, too much drama. and i felt bad. what do you have if you don't have me? i was being considerate."

"considerate? you're fucking joking. you think cheating on me for however long is being considerate?"

nayeon throws her hand up in the air in frustration, "so what!? it's not like you've been trying to make this relationship work recently!"

"oh don't you try and shift the blame onto me nayeon! you're not the same person i fell in love with. you started drinking uncontrollably, you started smoking, sleeping around, lying to me, i don't even recognise you anymore. you know what? you're right. i've been pathetic. pathetic for holding on to the hope that you still loved me. that you still even fucking cared about me. so this is me ending things now. thanks for helping me realise that i guess." you start to go around her room, collecting a few of your things that are still in her space, moving out to the rest of the apartment to do the same.

nayeon's left in her room, fuming and lighting up a cigarette.

when you're almost done, she comes out again, seeming to have calmed down and recollected herself.

"y/n wait. don't go. why are we doing this? we don't have to break up. we've been together for so long, i won't cheat on you anymore. i promise, we can get back to what we were y/n."

your heart strings tug at the sight, wanting to cling onto her words, the only thing you've been wanting to hear from her since the start of the deterioration of your relationship.

she senses your hesitance, stepping forward slowly, and then engulfing you in a hug.

you almost burst then, sighing against her and breathing in. but what hits you isn't her usual lemon scent, it's the stink of cigarettes and another woman's perfume. that brings you back to reality very quickly.

you shove her off, "bullshit. we're done nayeon."

it takes everything in you to turn away from the confused, hurt look on her face, stalking out her apartment and not looking back.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖

the next few weeks are hell. nayeon keeps trying to contact you and talk about the breakup, all while you're slowly trying to let go of the pieces of her you've clung onto. throwing out her things, memoirs of your relationship back when it was good, trying to healthily move on as best you could.

but it's hard when nayeon storms into your office space, employees turning over to look on in curiosity at why im nayeon, face of TWICE, saver of JYP and the reason they all have jobs right now, was coming down to talk to lowly office workers.

she stops at your desk, "y/n."

"don't do this here nayeon. i'm at work. you should be too."

"i make the work. they can't do anything without me. stop avoiding me. let's talk."

you sigh frustratedly, looking around at the prying eyes, "fine but not here." you really didn't want to talk to her but this was better than causing a scene in front of the entire staff.

you lead her towards the staff bathrooms, locking the door behind you and gesturing for her to talk.

"look, i messed up. i admit it. these last few weeks have been hell without you. i realised how much you meant to me when i lost you. i promise to do everything i can to make up for all the shit i've pulled. i want us to be together again. i want what we used to have."

you sigh, "don't do this nayeon."

"what?"

"don't lie to me again. i can't take it."

"i'm not lying!"

"how can i trust that after you cheated on me?! after you lied about it to me for months?!"

"i'm sorry! i said i'm sorry! i want to earn your trust back again! i'm trying here y/n!"

"i tried for us for months. you didn't even acknowledge that. do you know how many times i've had to apologise to you? because i thought we were fighting because of me? how many times you've made me feel like i was just an insecure girlfriend? while you were out fucking half of seoul?"

"i'm sorry baby please! i'll never make you feel like that again. i promise to be honest and- and- i love you y/n please don't leave me."

"i can't believe you nayeon. and i don't want you to talk to me anymore. it's hard enough getting over you without you blowing up my phone every 2 minutes."

you turn around again, unlocking the door and intending to leave, but then nayeon rushes to hug you, squeezing herself against you, burrowing her face in your neck. you can feel her tears dripping down your skin.

"p-please y/n. i messed up. i don't want to lose you. i don't know what i'll do with myself. i was wrong the other day. i'm the pathetic one. i can't live without you y/n please."

everything in you is screaming to take her back. but she'd made a fool of you enough times. you shrug her off, opening the door and leaving her behind for a second time.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖

it seems your message got through to nayeon this time. the next few days are a little quieter. she doesn't try to contact you, nor does she try and come by your house or catch you outside on one of your routines.

your coworkers had tried to ask you how you knew the im nayeon, but you brushed them off, saying she was just asking you some things about her next promotion. you were thankful you didn't have to see nayeon too much at work, and she didn't try and confront you again either, so things returned to as relative normal as it could get working for a major entertainment company.

that is until, you're suddenly called up into the top brass' office on a random tuesday morning as soon as you clock in.

"y/n. please sit."

you hesitate, tentatively sitting down on one of expensive leather chairs, back straight and feeling sweat collect in your palms.

the directors in the room gesture towards the massive screen at the end of the board table, flicking it on.

your eyes widen as the audio starts to play. it was a shoddily recorded video from inside a bathroom cubicle, but you could clearly hear the argument you and nayeon had just a few days prior. your cheeks flare up as the video continues to play, you feel extremely small in the boardroom, your privacy completely invaded, your breakup argument aired out for everyone in the room to hear.

"now y/n, of course we knew about your relationship with nayeon, if we didn't, nayeon would quite literally be in deep shit right now."

you shuffle in your seat, deeply uncomfortable with the various men staring at you, "this was a personal conversation between nayeon and i. how did you get this video?"

"someone recorded the two of you in the bathroom and then leaked it to all the major news and gossip sites. this video is currently being viewed by everyone across seoul and has even gained some traction overseas."

your heart sinks, this is the worst possible outcome, worse than just losing nayeon, worse than finding out she was cheating on you, it's finding out all of that with all her fans, all her haters, who didn't even know nayeon was dating you of all people, find out it was actually you who broke up with her and not the other way around.

"you work in publicity. i'm sure you understand how this is not a good look for nayeon's public image right now yes?"

you nod dumbly.

"great. so we're gonna need you to fix this. we have press outside waiting for a statement from you already."

you stutter, "r-right now?!"

"yes. so you better come up with something quick if you want to keep your job." they're getting more impatient.

you gulp, nodding again, mind scrambling, ideas flying through your head while they lead you up, and then outside to a room with various journalists and photographers. you don't even realise you're standing in front of everyone on the podium until one of the directors nudges you, indicating for you to speak.

"u-um h-hi everyone. i'm sure you're all here because of the recent news about nayeon and i's... altercation."

cameras start flashing as everyone looks at you with bated breath.

you can tell the directors behind you get a little antsy under the attention, wanting you to hurry things up.

you clear your throat, "nayeon is involved with a new filming project that has not yet been revealed. as part of her publicity team she asked me to run a few lines with her in what we thought would be the privacy of one of the staff bathrooms. i have had a little experience in the film industry which is why she specifically asked for me. there is nothing else going on between us and there has been nothing going on between us. this is all simply a big misunderstanding and we hope that you will respect nayeon's privacy in the months coming forward as she prepares this new project for you all. thank you."

as soon as you're done the reporters all clamour forwards, yelling out questions but you're pushed to the side, being led away quickly, distantly hearing someone take over the podium stating a curt, "there will be no questions at this time."

you're still processing everything that's happening when they sit you down in a room you haven't seen before, terrified you're about to lose your job, but also concerned for nayeon. you wonder if she's seen the news yet? you shouldn't care about her anymore but you couldn't help it. it was still too soon to be completely over her. this was all happening so quickly. you knew falling for a celebrity was going to be difficult, and in the beginning nayeon had promised that as long as you had her, everything would be okay, neither of you expected this to be the outcome.

your head's in your hands when you hear the door open, the hushed whispers of people and footsteps doing very little to pull you out of your thoughts. you wait for them to quiet down, the door shutting quietly behind them. you take a breath, prepared for any outcome, looking up to face your consequences.

only to find it was nayeon standing in front of you. you finally take in your surroundings, it seems you were in one of the dance practice rooms. you didn't even realise you had been taken to the idol levels of the building, no recollection of even going into the elevator.

you stand apprehensively, "n-nayeon."

she stares you down, eyes fierce. she's silent for a moment, before speaking up, "are you fucking stupid y/n?"

you flinch at her tone "w-what?"

she stalks forward slowly, backing you against the floor to ceiling mirrors behind you. you can see your own face in the mirror on the other side of the wall, terrified and bloodshot.

"i said, are you fucking stupid?"

"n-no?"

"i thought you were meant to be on my publicity team." she spits out the words.

"i- well- they didn't give me any time. i had to come up with something on the spot."

"i told you when we first started dating didn't i? that as long as you were with me everything would be okay? that meant for you to leave things to me to deal with."

you gulp, your hands flat on the mirror behind you, trying to make yourself as small as possible, the coolness of the glass doing little to ground you.

she scoffs, "pathetic little baby. you really are useless without me aren't you? a film project? are you serious? now the company has to go find a screenwriter to write our private discussion into some shitty film that i have to work even more for. and they're gonna rush me too since you said we've had this in the works for a while already. not to mention it means we'll have to spend more time together. after i had just started letting you go too."

she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose and squeezing her eyes shut, bringing her hands up to mess through her hair in frustration. you nervously take her in, she must have just come from dance practice. her skin still has the sheen of sweat, clothes sticking to her body, you always had a thing for her after her workout sessions. you're not sure if it's because you hadn't been intimate in so long, or if you just missed her, but there's a twinge of arousal in your core at the sight of her so close to you, being able to smell the distinct scent of her sweat, clean of any cigarettes or perfumes you didn't recognise, it was just nayeon.

your eyes flick back up to her's when you realise they were open the whole time, watching you check her out. she knew the effect she had on you, her lips turn upward in a little smirk.

she takes a step forward, cocking her head. you don't have any more steps back to take.

"i thought you wanted us to be over y/n."

"i d-do." you're eyes are flicking everywhere, avoiding her dangerous gaze, but the mirrors only make you grow more aroused, able to see the two of you from all angles.

"really?" she's close enough you can feel her breath fan over your face, her voice husking out in a drawl she's reserved for the bedroom. "so you don't want me at all right now?"

"n-not at all m-" you slip, almost calling her by her title in bed, something you haven't used in months.

she raises an eyebrow, "what was that baby?"

"n-nothing."

she tuts, "so if you don't want me... you're not gonna be wet if i check right?"

your eyes widen, thighs clenching together uncontrollably, "n-no."

"hmm, and if you're lying?"

"i'm not."

"prove it."

you flush, the proximity making you feel dizzy, it was like your first time with her all over again.

"how am i gonna prove it?"

she walks back then, completely nonchalant, sitting on the couch on the other end of the room, legs spread, arms thrown over the back of the couch carelessly, eyes never leaving your body.

"strip."

"w-what?! we're not together anymore i'm not gonna-"

"strip."

"nayeon this isn't- we're both at work-"

"it hasn't stopped us before. i clearly remember fucking you on the rooftop of this building while everyone was at that special lunch event for JYP's birthday."

you're so flustered, mind torn between your brain and your throbbing cunt, she already had such an effect on you after not having touched you for months.

"i'm not doing this with you nayeon. this is completely unprofessional not to mention anyone could walk in and-"

"fine. leave."

you're completely stumped. her hot and cold attitude was sending you into a confusion you couldn’t make sense of. you walk towards the door, bring your hand up to the doorknob, but before you know it, instead of listening to your brain and leaving then and there, you lock the door, turning back to your ex-girlfriend who looks smugly sat and comfortable, expecting you to have chosen her.

"you can never be good can you baby? i have to tell you the opposite for you to do what i want you to do hmm?"

you mutter a small shut up, slipping out of your clothes quickly and moving in towards her. but the second you try climbing into her lap, she's pushing you up, standing, one hand on your chest, the other cupping your face.

"nuh uh. you don't just get to use me and leave me. i'm the one that's mad with you right now. dumb little thing couldn't even come up with a good enough excuse for that publicity stunt back there. you know you come to mommy first when something about my job comes up don't you?"

"i-i-! i didn't have a choice! they had the press outside waiting as soon as i got the news and-"

"there's always a choice. poor little thing's just too innocent, letting herself get taken advantage of. you know what the media are saying right now? that it's all a lie. that we do have history and you're the one that made the statement because the company wanted you to take the fall. that doesn't sound good does it?"

you shake your head, feeling terribly exposed in just your underwear and bra.

"no it doesn't. and now i’m gonna have to fix the mess you made."

you can't do anything else except bow your head in submission, mumbling out a small, "i'm sorry."

she tilts your head back up to look at her, and even though you had a few inches on her, her presence filled the room, you were tiny standing before her.

"at least you know how to apologise. now are you going to let me check if you're wet?"

you nod, afraid of speaking up.

she smirks, trailing her fingers down your chest, skimming over your nipples and your stomach, leaving goosebumps in her wake. you try your hardest not to shiver or squirm underneath her touch, anticipating what nayeon was to find at your core.

her fingers finally dip down past your hips, pulling down your panties slowly, watching you like a hawk. and then her long, long fingers are teasing down the line of your cunt, she tuts, collecting your arousal and pulling her hand back up.

"looks like you were lying after all. what are we gonna do about this hmm?"

your eyes clenched shut at the feeling of her fingers running down your pussy, you're unable to open them again when she questions you. "d-don't know mommy."

nayeon grins at the title, "so polite. so dumb. it's okay. mommy's gonna take care of you now yeah?"

and then before you can formulate your next thought she's turning you around, pushing you down into the couch. you land with an oomph, eyes opening at the shock of force, but nayeon simply gets on her knees and rips your panties off, pulling you to the edge of the couch and throwing your legs over her shoulders, diving in without another word.

your hand immediately comes to her head, gripping her hair and pulling slightly in the way you know she likes, moaning as you feel her clean all the slick that's leaked down to your inner thighs and outer lips.

she's absolutely insatiable. starved for pussy like she hasn't eaten anything in three days. she doesn't care when you whine and tell her to slow down or be softer, she knew better, you dripped at her rough treatment. it was like riding a bike to nayeon. despite not having tasted you in so long she still remembers each sliver of skin that makes your toes curl, every spot that makes your heels dig into her back and beg for more.

all of your senses are focused only on the feeling of her tongue inside of you. you can feel the vibrations of her moaning and speaking up, but your ears don't pick up on the words, strained only to hear the sloppy sounds of nayeon slurping up every drop of arousal that spills out of you.

"m-mommy- i- oh fuck-"

you don't hear her response, only a messy suck on your clit as she hums around it.

"g-gonna- fuck mommy please- make me cum please-"

she never stops her assault, her hands gripping your thighs, keeping them forced open while you wriggle and strain against her. one of your hands leaves her head, coming up to palm at your breast over your bra, easily finding your hard nipple through the fabric and pinching. you can feel yourself clench at the feeling, more arousal leaking out of you, all of which nayeon eagerly drinks up.

one more thrust of her tongue, another suck to your clit, another pinch of your nipple, and you're crying out her name, throwing your head back, hand clutching onto her head for dear life, but then everything stops.

you feel the orgasm that had near electrified you pull inwards and back up to your stomach, like the waves on a beach right before the tsunami hits. you're panting, looking back down and clumsily trying to bring your hand to your clit to bring back the orgasm she ripped away from you so violently.

she smacks your hand away, pulling you up onto shaky legs and then turning you around, pushing you back down so you're ass up, grabbing onto the back of the couch to support what your legs couldn't. she kicks open your legs wider, delirious at the way her spit mixed with your slick dribbles down your thighs, hands coming in immediately to scoop it back up, teasing the sensitive skin on your inner thighs.

she leans over you, pulling your hair back so you're forced to look into the mirror right in front of you. the scene is pornographic. your eyes are lidded, mouth open, drool slipping out, skin blotchy and red, while nayeon is behind you nosing at your neck, her mouth covered in you, hair a mess from the way you had pulled her out of her updo.

"look at you-" she coos, "so fucking pathetic for me. spread out like this with me between your legs, where anyone could walk in and see you come undone because of me. that would give the press a field day wouldn't it?" she laughs cruelly, tugging your hair back more to expose your throat, "what would you say then? would this be practice for another film again?" she bites down at the side of your neck, sucking a newly formed mark into your skin.

“mmf- mommy please- more please- i d-don’t know i-“

"god you don't know how hard these last few days have been for me. i don't know what more you want from me. i apologised and i told you i'd never do it again, that only you would get to see how these fingers feel inside of you." she punctuates her sentence by sliding two fingers inside, no further preparation needed with how soaked you were after she ate you out. you immediately clench around her, your body needing to keep her inside of you as long as possible, terrified she would leave you on the precipice of cumming again. "but that just wasn't enough for you was it? greedy little baby. i bet you missed me too. actually, i know you missed me too with how fucking wet you are right now. no one can fuck you like i can right? no one can make you feel as good as i do."

every filthy word that comes out of her mouth is accompanied with a thrust into your pussy. the squelch of her fingers entering and exiting you leave your thighs shaking, almost all your body weight held up by your arms on the back of the couch. it’s pathetic the way she has you wrapped around her finger, literally. you bite your lip, shame washing over you as you remember where you were and what she did to you. you’d expect that feeling to anger you, push her off of you, but you only clench down tighter against her, impervious to your more sane thoughts.

“what if you were the one who leaked that video to the press? did you want my attention on you that badly baby? want the whole world’s attention on us? was that your sick way of revenge against me, let the whole world know you were mine first instead of all those other randoms i fucked? you’d love if someone came in right now and filmed us wouldn’t you? release that to the media too? that way you’d be immortalised, everyone would see you’re just a fucktoy for im nayeon.”

you whine, needing to come so bad the overstimulation forces tears out of your eyes, the sight of her pressed up against you, your breasts bouncing with each thrust of her fingers, still contained within your bra.

nayeon notices your line of sight, hand snaking up around your waist to pull your cup down roughly, your left tit bouncing out, nipple already perked up and pretty. nayeon wastes no time, still whispering filth into your ear while she watches herself take your exposed tit into her large hands, squeezing as you moan at her touch, pushing out your chest submissively for her. she moulds and plays around with it, fingers coming in to pinch at the nipple, smirking when she feels your cunt clench around her fingers at the movement, rolling your nipple around between your fingers and pulling it roughly.

“you gonna cum baby? you’re squeezing me so fucking tight right now.”

you babble in response, a string of yes and please slurred together.

“mm you’re mine. if anyone ever fucks you in the future all you’re gonna remember is me. how i feel inside you right now. reaching parts of you no one else will be able to reach. you’re ruined for me baby. now cum.”

you shudder as you cum on command, legs completely giving out while nayeon holds you up, still thrusting into you to help you ride out your orgasm.

it takes you a while to come down and back into your senses, nayeon doesn’t seem to leave your body, her fingers still fit snugly inside you while you flutter around the feeling of being full.

finally, when she’s had her fun, she props you back down onto the couch, you’re sprawled open, cum leaking out of you, one tit falling out of your bra, arms uselessly laid against your side.

she smirks at the sight, fixing herself in the mirror before looking back to you.

“i’ll talk to the directors about the film. you don’t have to worry your dumb little brain about that anymore. but it is a little weird for one of my publicity officers to be running lines with me, so i’m also gonna talk to them about bringing you on as one of my managers. that means you’re gonna move your pretty ass back into my apartment, bring all your things and whatever else you need, non-negotiable. i own you y/n. and i know deep down you still want me too.”

she takes her leave at that, leaving you exposed and sweaty, head empty except for the fact that she was right. you’d never be able to get enough of nayeon, you’d always be in this twisted, torturous cycle of misguided love and lust with her, and you brought it upon yourself.

#nayeon #im nayeon #twice nayeon #nayeon x reader #twice nayeon x reader #im nayeon x reader #nayeon smut #nayeon imagines #twice smut #twice imagines #twice x reader #dovveri

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sailorsoons · 7 months ago

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SUMMARY: The Syndicates of Hyperion are at war. The Kim and Yong families have forged a fragile alliance against the long-reigning Choi Syndicate. But in a world ruled by shifting loyalties, ruthless ambition, and calculated betrayal, power changes hands as quickly as lives are lost. These are the stories of those caught in the deadly web of the Syndicate, where survival is never guaranteed. And victory comes at a price.

COLLECTION DETAILS: This collection contains individual fics with each member of SVT paired with a different reader that occur in the same universe/AU and timeline. Each story is a standalone, but three of them do have a connected/overarching plot. You do not need to read all of them to understand what's going on, and all of the fics can be read as standalone one shots.

RAITING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

COLLECTION WARNINGS: Criminal behavior, morally gray characters, murder, depictions of violence and murder, general violence associated with mafia/criminal activity, recreational drug sale and use, depictions and mentions of death, recreational drinking and drug use - each individual fic will be heavily tagged and warned appropriately.

MOODBOARDS: Soonyoung ▸ Hansol ▸ Chan ▸ Seungkwan ▸ Minghao ▸ Jeonghan ▸ Jihoon ▸ Mingyu / Wonwoo ▸ Seokmin ▸ Junhui ▸ Joshua ▸ Seungcheol

PLAYLISTS: Soonyoung ▸ Hansol ▸ Chan ▸ Seungkwan ▸ Minghao ▸ Jeonghan ▸ Jihoon ▸ Mingyu / Wonwoo ▸ Seokmin ▸ Junhui ▸ Joshua ▸ Seungcheol

NAVIGATE: MAIN M. LIST | ASK

HYPERION CITY POLICE DATABASE SERVER #192220 CHOI SYNDICATE FILES

A C C E S S P E N D I N G . . . G R A N T E D

DOWNLOADING BABY.exe . . . READ FILE

FILE NOTES: Soonyoung has been in your life for as long as you can remember. You haven’t spoken since your wedding to someone who isn’t him, but when you uncover your husband’s plans to turn against your family, you don’t know who else to call.

DOWNLOADING VENGEANCE.exe . . . READ FILE

FILE NOTES: You always knew you were different from a young age. The only person who has ever been able to understand you is Vernon. When things take a turn for the Choi Syndicate, your long-term relationship is put to the test.

DOWNLOADING CHERRY SOURS.exe . . . READ FILE

FILE NOTES: Nothing in your life ever comes easy. Not family, not money, and certainly not jobs to pay the endless stack of bills. The only thing easy is the smiles you give Chan when he comes into your convenience store at the same time every Saturday to buy his cherry sours. And then one day you run into him where you're not supposed to, and everything changes.

DOWNLOADING STREET DEMON.exe . . . FILE UNAVAILABLE

FILE NOTES: You've been street racing since you could reach the pedal of a car - it's the only thing you've ever been good at. When a rival decides they're tired of losing to you, Seungkwan steps in to show he's more than just a street racer.

DOWNLOADING TIL DEATH.exe ... FILE UNAVAILABLE

FILE NOTES: As the heir to one of the most powerful businesses under the Choi Syndicate, you’ve always known your marriage would be arranged, not chosen. So when your family announces your engagement to Minghao, it comes as no shock. Minghao, however, is full of surprises, each one of them more deadly than the last.

DOWNLOADING OMEERTA.exe . . . FILE UNAVAILABLE

FILE NOTES: Omertà (n) /ˌōmerˈtä,ōˈmərdə/ - code of silence, honor, and conduct that emphasizes remaining silent when questioned by authorities or outsiders. After your brother's death, you break omertà and betray your family in the worst way possible to become Yoon Jeonghan's knife in the dark.

DOWNLOADING CORROSIVE.exe . . . FILE UNAVAILABLE

FILE NOTES: Trying to unravel the Syndicates that run the city isn't what Seokmin ever dreamed he'd be doing. Turns out he's good at it. At least until he meets you and everything he knows about the city's criminal empires is turned on its head.

DOWNLOADING KEROSINE.exe . . . FILE UNAVAILABLE

FILE NOTES: Jihoon knew growing up he would be expected to practice law like his mother, protecting the assets and the associates of the Choi Syndicate. He's had no problem doing that so far - until he gets you as a client.

DOWNLOADING BELONG.exe . . . FILE UNAVAILABLE

FILE NOTES: Most people don’t understand your relationship with Mingyu and Wonwoo. They don't need to. What they do need to understand is that the three of you belong to one another, and you'd do anything to keep it that way.

DOWNLOADING GIN & TONIC.exe . . . FILE UNAVAILABLE

FILE NOTES: There is little benefit to working the underground fighting ring that belongs to the Choi Syndicate besides good pay. Another one? Getting to watch Junhui in the cage most nights and serving him his gin and tonic after he wins.

DOWNLOADING DEAD TO ME.exe . . . FILE UNAVAILABLE

FILE NOTES: You and Joshua ended things on a terrible note and you haven't seen him since, doing your best to avoid him - that is until he comes to your untimely and most annoying rescue.

DOWNLOADING MENAGERIE.exe . . . FILE UNAVAILABLE

FILE NOTES: Choi Seungcheol has been struggling since he stepped into his father's role leading the family syndicate. Nothing has been easy, fighting a war against both known and unknown enemies. You're easy though, making all of his troubles float away. And then those troubles come knocking on your door.

#svt smut #svt fic #svt x you #mafia svt #hoshi smut #soonyoung smut #kwon soonyoung smut #kwon soonyoung fic #hoshi fic #sailorrhansol #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fanfic #i will add member tags as i post them so i stay in the relevant tags

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thesovereignsring-if · 5 months ago

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Devlog (03/16/2025)

Hello Hello! It's been a while since you last heard from me. Longest story short, I got caught in another writers block because of a kink in the plot. It was very annoying and demoralizing, but it's been solved now (I saw the light!) and I've made a lot of progress afterwards.

So what's new?

Well, I'm pleased to say that the first draft of the entire prologue is complete! That includes the Empress's route and the final half of the prologue (Firelight) that happens after. There is some coding and light editing left to do, but it is done. I'm so glad I can say that I'm free of it without any regrets.

After that we will be continuing the story and catching up with some additional material for the next few months!

What to expect:

PATREON BUILD:

Patrons will be getting the final route (Route D) of the festival on Saturday March 22.

The second half of the "Prologue: Firelight" will be due to release sometime early-mid April

Chapter 1: Departure & Catastrophe will be going through some small revisions. Subchapter names may be changing to fit the revised storyline better.

PUBLIC BUILD:

Bug fixes for some issues in Thea's route will be coming out tomorrow or the day after

SATURDAY MARCH 29 update and will contain the missing Festival Routes C & D (Linnet/Eirik & the Empress's routes).

Two weeks after the Patreon update with Prologue: Firelight, the public build will be updated.

The word count of this project as of today is 100k+ words (Insane. This is my largest project ever), but at this moment only about 30k+ of it is there for the public.

Thank you so much to everyone who has been supporting me and this projects throughout the hiatuses and the delays. Spring is back and my mental health definitely improves because of it. I hope to share more writing and artwork ( I will get to finishing the poll winners, have no fear) with you all in the future. I'll be going back into my inbox to answer questions, but I'll let this post sit for a few hours until I do ^^)

TTYL <3

Lili

#tsr #devlog #the sovereign's ring

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago

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UK publishers suing Google for $17.4b over rigged ad markets

THIS WEEKEND (June 7–9), I'm in AMHERST, NEW YORK to keynote the 25th Annual Media Ecology Association Convention and accept the Neil Postman Award for Career Achievement in Public Intellectual Activity.

Look, no one wants to kick Big Tech to the curb more than I do, but, also: it's good that Google indexes the news so people can find it, and it's good that Facebook provides forums where people can talk about the news.

It's not news if you can't find it. It's not news if you can't talk about it. We don't call information you can't find or discuss "news" – we call it "secrets."

And yet, the most popular – and widely deployed – anti-Big Tech tactic promulgated by the news industry and supported by many of my fellow trustbusters is premised on making Big Tech pay to index the news and/or provide a forum to discuss news articles. These "news bargaining codes" (or, less charitably, "link taxes") have been mooted or introduced in the EU, France, Spain, Australia, and Canada. There are proposals to introduce these in the US (through the JCPA) and in California (the CJPA).

These US bills are probably dead on arrival, for reasons that can be easily understood by the Canadian experience with them. After Canada introduced Bill C-18 – its own news bargaining code – Meta did exactly what it had done in many other places where this had been tried: blocked all news from Facebook, Instagram, Threads, and other Meta properties.

This has been a disaster for the news industry and a disaster for Canadians' ability to discuss the news. Oh, it makes Meta look like assholes, too, but Meta is the poster child for "too big to care" and is palpably indifferent to the PR costs of this boycott.

Frustrated lawmakers are now trying to figure out what to do next. The most common proposal is to order Meta to carry the news. Canadians should be worried about this, because the next government will almost certainly be helmed by the far-right conspiratorialist culture warrior Pierre Poilievre, who will doubtless use this power to order Facebook to platform "news sites" to give prominence to Canada's rotten bushel of crypto-fascist (and openly fascist) "news" sites.

Americans should worry about this too. A Donald Trump 2028 presidency combined with a must-carry rule for news would see Trump's cabinet appointees deciding what is (and is not) news, and ordering large social media platforms to cram the Daily Caller (or, you know, the Daily Stormer) into our eyeballs.

But there's another, more fundamental reason that must-carry is incompatible with the American system: the First Amendment. The government simply can't issue a blanket legal order to platforms requiring them to carry certain speech. They can strongly encourage it. A court can order limited compelled speech (say, a retraction following a finding of libel). Under emergency conditions, the government might be able to compel the transmission of urgent messages. But there's just no way the First Amendment can be squared with a blanket, ongoing order issued by the government to communications platforms requiring them to reproduce, and make available, everything published by some collection of their favorite news outlets.

This might also be illegal in Canada, but it's harder to be definitive. The Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms was enshrined in 1982, and Canada's Supreme Court is still figuring out what it means. Section Two of the Charter enshrines a free expression right, but it's worded in less absolute terms than the First Amendment, and that's deliberate. During the debate over the wording of the Charter, Canadian scholars and policymakers specifically invoked problems with First Amendment absolutism and tried to chart a middle course between strong protections for free expression and problems with the First Amendment's brook-no-exceptions language.

So maybe Canada's Supreme Court would find a must-carry order to Meta to be a violation of the Charter, but it's hard to say for sure. The Charter is both young and ambiguous, so it's harder to be definitive about what it would say about this hypothetical. But when it comes to the US and the First Amendment, that's categorically untrue. The US Constitution is centuries older than the Canadian Charter, and the First Amendment is extremely definitive, and there are reams of precedent interpreting it. The JPCA and CJPA are totally incompatible with the US Constitution. Passing them isn't as silly as passing a law declaring that Pi equals three or that water isn't wet, but it's in the neighborhood.

But all that isn't to say that the news industry shouldn't be attacking Big Tech. Far from it. Big Tech compulsively steals from the news!

But what Big Tech steals from the news isn't content.

It's money.

Big Tech steals money from the news. Take social media: when a news outlet invests in building a subscriber base on a social media platform, they're giving that platform a stick to beat them with. The more subscribers you have on social media, the more you'll be willing to pay to reach those subscribers, and the more incentive there is for the platform to suppress the reach of your articles unless you pay to "boost" your content.

This is plainly fraudulent. When I sign up to follow a news outlet on a social media site, I'm telling the platform to show me the things the news outlet publishes. When the platform uses that subscription as the basis for a blackmail plot, holding my desire to read the news to ransom, they are breaking their implied promise to me to show me the things I asked to see:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/06/save-news-we-need-end-end-web

This is stealing money from the news. It's the definition of an "unfair method of competition." Article 5 of the Federal Trade Commission Act gives the FTC the power to step in and ban this practice, and they should:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

Big Tech also steals money from the news via the App Tax: the 30% rake that the mobile OS duopoly (Apple/Google) requires for every in-app purchase (Apple/Google also have policies that punish app vendors who take you to the web to make payments without paying the App Tax). 30% out of every subscriber dollar sent via an app is highway robbery! By contrast, the hyperconcentrated, price-gouging payment processing cartel charges 2-5% – about a tenth of the Big Tech tax. This is Big Tech stealing money from the news:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/06/save-news-we-must-open-app-stores

Finally, Big Tech steals money by monopolizing the ad market. The Google-Meta ad duopoly takes 51% out of every ad-dollar spent. The historic share going to advertising "intermediaries" is 10-15%. In other words, Google/Meta cornered the market on ads and then tripled the bite they were taking out of publishers' advertising revenue. They even have an illegal, collusive arrangement to rig this market, codenamed "Jedi Blue":

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedi_Blue

There's two ways to unrig the ad market, and we should do both of them.

First, we should trustbust both Google and Meta and force them to sell off parts of their advertising businesses. Currently, both Google and Meta operate a "full stack" of ad services. They have an arm that represents advertisers buying space for ads. Another arm represents publishers selling space to advertisers. A third arm operates the marketplace where these sales take place. All three arms collect fees. On top of that: Google/Meta are both publishers and advertisers, competing with their own customers!

This is as if you were in court for a divorce and you discovered that the same lawyer representing your soon-to-be ex was also representing you…while serving as the judge…and trying to match with you both on Tinder. It shouldn't surprise you if at the end of that divorce, the court ruled that the family home should go to the lawyer.

So yeah, we should break up ad-tech:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-shatter-ad-tech

Also: we should ban surveillance advertising. Surveillance advertising gives ad-tech companies a permanent advantage over publishers. Ad-tech will always know more about readers' behavior than publishers do, because Big Tech engages in continuous, highly invasive surveillance of every internet user in the world. Surveillance ads perform a little better than "content-based ads" (ads sold based on the content of a web-page, not the behavior of the person looking at the page), but publishers will always know more about their content than ad-tech does. That means that even if content-based ads command a slightly lower price than surveillance ads, a much larger share of that payment will go to publishers:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-ban-surveillance-advertising

Banning surveillance advertising isn't just good business, it's good politics. The potential coalition for banning surveillance ads is everyone who is harmed by commercial surveillance. That's a coalition that's orders of magnitude larger than the pool of people who merely care about fairness in the ad/news industries. It's everyone who's worried about their grandparents being brainwashed on Facebook, or their teens becoming anorexic because of Instagram. It includes people angry about deepfake porn, and people angry about Black Lives Matter protesters' identities being handed to the cops by Google (see also: Jan 6 insurrectionists).

It also includes everyone who discovers that they're paying higher prices because a vendor is using surveillance data to determine how much they'll pay – like when McDonald's raises the price of your "meal deal" on your payday, based on the assumption that you will spend more when your bank account is at its highest monthly level:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/05/your-price-named/#privacy-first-again

Attacking Big Tech for stealing money is much smarter than pretending that the problem is Big Tech stealing content. We want Big Tech to make the news easy to find and discuss. We just want them to stop pocketing 30 cents out of every subscriber dollar and 51 cents out of ever ad dollar, and ransoming subscribers' social media subscriptions to extort publishers.

And there's amazing news on this front: a consortium of UK web-publishers called Ad Tech Collective Action has just triumphed in a high-stakes proceeding, and can now go ahead with a suit against Google, seeking damages of GBP13.6b ($17.4b) for the rigged ad-tech market:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/17-bln-uk-adtech-lawsuit-against-google-can-go-ahead-tribunal-rules-2024-06-05/

The ruling, from the Competition Appeal Tribunal, paves the way for a frontal assault on the thing Big Tech actually steals from publishers: money, not content.

This is exactly what publishing should be doing. Targeting the method by which tech steals from the news is a benefit to all kinds of news organizations, including the independent, journalist-owned publishers that are doing the best news work today. These independents do not have the same interests as corporate news, which is dominated by hedge funds and private equity raiders, who have spent decades buying up and hollowing out news outlets, and blaming the resulting decline in readership and profits on Craiglist.

You can read more about Big Finance's raid on the news in Margot Susca's Hedged: How Private Investment Funds Helped Destroy American Newspapers and Undermine Democracy:

https://www.press.uillinois.edu/books/?id=p087561

You can also watch/listen to Adam Conover's excellent interview with Susca:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N21YfWy0-bA

Frankly, the looters and billionaires who bought and gutted our great papers are no more interested in the health of the news industry or democracy than Big Tech is. We should care about the news and the workers who produce the news, not the profits of the hedge-funds that own the news. An assault on Big Tech's monetary theft levels the playing field, making it easier for news workers and indies to compete directly with financialized news outlets and billionaire playthings, by letting indies keep more of every ad-dollar and more of every subscriber-dollar – and to reach their subscribers without paying ransom to social media.

Ending monetary theft – rather than licensing news search and discussion – is something that workers are far more interested in than their bosses. Any time you see workers and their bosses on the same side as a fight against Big Tech, you should look more closely. Bosses are not on their workers' side. If bosses get more money out of Big Tech, they will not share those gains with workers unless someone forces them to.

That's where antitrust comes in. Antitrust is designed to strike at power, and enforcers have broad authority to blunt the power of corporate juggernauts. Remember Article 5 of the FTC Act, the one that lets the FTC block "unfair methods of competition?" FTC Chair Lina Khan has proposed using it to regulate training AI, specifically to craft rules that address the labor and privacy issues with AI:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mh8Z5pcJpg

This is an approach that can put creative workers where they belong, in a coalition with other workers, rather than with their bosses. The copyright approach to curbing AI training is beloved of the same media companies that are eagerly screwing their workers. If we manage to make copyright – a transferrable right that a worker can be forced to turn over their employer – into the system that regulates AI training, it won't stop training. It'll just trigger every entertainment company changing their boilerplate contract so that creative workers have to sign over their AI rights or be shown the door:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/13/spooky-action-at-a-close-up/#invisible-hand

Then those same entertainment and news companies will train AI models and try to fire most of their workers and slash the pay of the remainder using those models' output. Using copyright to regulate AI training makes changes to who gets to benefit from workers' misery, shifting some of our stolen wages from AI companies to entertainment companies. But it won't stop them from ruining our lives.

By contrast, focusing on actual labor rights – say, through an FTCA 5 rulemaking – has the potential to protect those rights from all parties, and puts us on the same side as call-center workers, train drivers, radiologists and anyone else whose wages are being targeted by AI companies and their customers.

Policy fights are a recurring monkey's paw nightmare in which we try to do something to fight corruption and bullying, only to be outmaneuvered by corrupt bullies. Making good policy is no guarantee of a good outcome, but it sure helps – and good policy starts with targeting the thing you want to fix. If we're worried that news is being financially starved by Big Tech, then we should go after the money, not the links.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/06/stealing-money-not-content/#content-free

#pluralistic #competition #advertising #surveillance advertising #saving the news from big tech #link taxes #trustbusting #competition and markets authority #uk #ukpoli #Ad Tech Collective Action #digital markets unit #Competition Appeal Tribunal

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