#2:36pm | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

awrkive · 4 months ago

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summary: where you and jungkook love to play the push and pull game

w/c: 4.7k

warnings/misc: idol!jk x (fem)producer!reader. the usual. mean words being exchanged to each other in the name of banter 😕 they dk how to be nice to e/o and i enjoy writing that way too much methinks. explicit sexual content (penetrative s*x, unprotected s*x, c*wgirl position, d*ggy, shower s*x, cre*mpie, dirty talk) idk what happened but there is angst here

note: due to popular demand here is pt 2 🤩🤩 i actually kinda have more ideas for this universe tbh and would love to go thru with it but it def depends so dont expect anything!! anywho. hope u enjoy!!!!! its unedited tho will fix later

index: part 1 | pt. 2

jeon jk. (bighit) [10:25pm]: im stressed i need to eat you out jeon jk. (bighit) [10:50pm]: whats taking u so long to answer? jeon jk. (bighit) [10:58pm]: will it kill you to reply

you [11:31pm]: shut up i just got off class

jeon jk. (bighit) [11:32pm]: who gets off class at 12 fucking midnight jeon jk. (bighit) [11:33pm]: are you fucking ur professor again jeon jk. (bighit) [11:36pm]: who was that. kim namjin. the lame ass linguistics prpfessor

you [11:40pm]: kim namjoon* and if im fucking him again whats it to you? you [11:40pm]: hes not lame and hes got a bigger dick than you

jeon jk. (bighit) [11:41pm]: yeah by like 0.05 inch.

you [11:43pm]: if thats what makes you sleep at night ig

jeon jk. (bighit) [11:44pm]: funny bcs who did you come back to after all that? def not namjan

you [11:46pm]: only bcs u send me stupid shit like “im stressed need to eat u out” when u dont get to fuck me

jeon jk. (bighit) [11:46pm]: youre infuriating as hell

you [11:46pm]: I literally do not care.

Your doorbell rings for the second time. Rolling your eyes, you let out a loud sigh and drop your highlighter on your book, dragging your feet to the doorway and opening it against your will.

“What the fuck took so long?” Is what Jungkook welcomes you with, taking off his black mask aggressively and stepping inside the threshold without you even inviting him inside.

You lock the door again, watching as Jungkook expertly navigates the space of your apartment, used to the way he heads to the kitchen with ease where he places the – you noticed it just now – bags of take-out on the counter.

“I told you, I can’t get into anything right now. I have to study for a test.” You cross your arms under your chest, following him. You stop by the counter across Jungkook, looking at him as he opens your fridge to get a bottle of water.

He’s worn all black from head to toe for obvious reasons because you live downtown and near Gangnam, and there’s no way nobody would recognize him if he didn’t get into any disguise.

Jungkook turns to you once he’s chugged the rest of the drink, leaning onto the counter, brow raised as he says, “Who said we have to get into anything right now?”

You shoot him a mirrored look.

“We only see each other for sex. And we can’t have sex tonight. I need to spell it out for you?”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. Instead, he gestures to the food on the counter and begins shrugging off his leather jacket and cap.

“Eat. You look pale.”

“Jungkook—”

He furrows his brows. “Is it that time of the month? Why are you so mouthy more than usual?”

“Fuck off.” You flip him off which makes him chuckle. It takes you aback a little.

“See. You’re irritable because you haven’t eaten yet. So what if you have to study? Eat first. I’ll help you with your flashcards later, then we’ll have sex. Easy.”

“Who are you and why are you telling me what to do?” You bite back.

“Because you’ll probably die at 27 if I wasn’t constantly reminding you of eating your meals,” Jungkook shrugs and starts tearing off the tapes on the take-out food. “And you like having sex with me. So.” You purse your lips, making a small scoffing sound, prompting Jungkook to glance at you. “Yeah?” He quirks a brow with a hint of a smile on his lips.

You frown. “You’re cocky.”

“You get me hard when we argue. Save it for later.” He says, as if chastising you and redirecting your attention again to the food.

You roll your eyes again, annoyed that there’s a weird feeling in your stomach about the whole exchange and your mouth muscles are itching to curl up a little at his… stupidity. It irritates you, the way Jungkook goes through life in an easy-going way because he knows exactly who he is.

You almost let out a moan as you start digging in the chicken he bought, feeling relieved to finally have something. Jungkook was only half-exaggerating when he said he had to tell you to eat, because most of the time you really forget all about it.

Today was one of those days… you didn’t have to clock in at the company on Fridays but your classes go from 5 to 9pm which drains the hell out of you. Waking up midday means not bothering to eat… and aside from the bagel and coffee you grabbed at the cafe earlier, you haven’t consumed real food.

“I don’t like this.” you suddenly say.

“What?”

You look up at him. He still looks weird.

“That.” you point at his general direction. He raises a brow, growing confused. “You look happy. I’m not sure if I like that.”

“Ouch.”

You can’t help yourself. You laugh at his completely blank face. Cutting yourself off completely, you clear your throat.

“It’s weird. Why?”

“I smile and it just… what? Ruins your day?”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook laughs out loud. “You’re infuriating.”

You hum, weirdly satisfied with that.

Jungkook has been over your apartment many times because as much as his place is way nicer, you don’t like going there. Too risky, too many eyes. Too… scary. You know Jungkook improves his security every three months, as sad as it sounds, but still. You don’t feel comfortable going there, probably why you refused to use the keycard he’s given you. You do fuck a lot in your studio, though, or in the empty rooms over at the company, but when you’re not, Jungkook and you drive here. It’s almost safe to assume that Jungkook knows this place already like the back of his hand.

Probably because whatever the hell this is between you has been going on for eight months now.

After Jungkook and you inhaled every last bit of the food (because he was apparently starving as well), true to his words, he actually did help you study a bit. But that didn’t really last when Jungkook suddenly had his fingers in you thirty minutes later.

One moment you were talking about phonological change and sound laws, the next thing you know, you’re cumming on his fingers, while Jungkook sits on the edge of your bed frantically helping you straddle him. Meanwhile, half of your clothes are forming a heap on the floor as you heavily make out with each other.

“F-fuck,”

Jungkook sighs when the tip of his cock finally enters your pussy as you slowly push down on him, thighs clenching at the way he’s stretching you out.

You gasp when you fully sit on him, open mouths breathing against each other.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so b-big–”

And you might never really get used to it, no matter how many times you do it.

You let out a shaky moan when you feel Jungkook’s dick twitching inside you, opening your eyes only to see him already staring right at you.

“You okay to move?” He rasps, the veins in his arms telling you he’s trying to hold back.

You nod eagerly, placing your palms on his shoulders and preparing yourself to go up. Your slick from the foreplay doesn’t make the stretch of his cock fully burn, making it a little easier for you to slide out and bounce back down on him until you’re repeating the movement faster, with Jungkook taking a hold of of your breasts, squeezing the flesh tightly in his huge palms. He groans, leaning down to capture your nipples, biting the pearls a little too rough you whimper a little too loud.

“O-oh—! Not too rough, Jeon.” You whine, grabbing the back of his head. Jungkook looks at you with brows raised, rightfully confused ‘cause you usually like it when he’s rough with you. You bite your lip, continuing to ride him. “Just a little sensitive. My period’s next week.”

Jungkook nods understandingly, squeezing your chest again, quite apologetically might you say so. He licks over a nipple, this time considerably more gentle with it.

“How’s this for a studying session?”

“N-not bad,” You bite your lip when you feel your thighs quivering, already starting to run out of breath, digging your nails in Jungkook’s shoulders. His hands travel down to your hips, where he grips it tight and starts guiding your ministration, literally bouncing you up and down on him. “Ahh– fuck.” you moan, shutting your eyes close at the delicious sensation of his engorged cock touching every part of your pussy.

You’re dripping on him, both of your bated breaths filling your room as he picks up your own pace.

“You – fuck – enjoy riding my cock like this?” He suddenly cups your jaw, making you look at him. The sides of your eyes sting with unshed tears, whimpering when his dick slips out of you when you try to go down again. Both of you look at it, with Jungkook quickly helping you put it back in, moaning in unison when it enters you again. You tighten your grip on him, soft sighs falling out of your mouth. But Jungkook suddenly lets out a quiet tsk, looking at you with furrowed brows as he says, “Answer me.”

“Y-you know.” you say, mirroring his look. You start rocking back and forth instead, heightening the pleasure.

With the way Jungkook’s face contorts, you know the new movement feels just as good for him.

But he suddenly thrusts from under you, grabbing the back of your hair – the stretch on your scalp didn’t hurt, but it’s enough to make you gasp.

“Why do you gotta be such a fuckin’ brat, huh?” Jungkook groans, guiding your face closer to his. “You act like this around— who’s that guy again? Professor Kim?”

You bite your lip to prevent yourself from smiling at that. You knew he was gonna bring that up one way or another. You and Professor Kim fucked that one time — okay maybe two times when Jungkook and you had this weird cool-off thing going on four months ago, and he made sure to remind you of it every singe chance he got.

“No,” you firmly say, leveling him with a look, still keeping your pace on his cock. “He likes it when I’m a good girl.”

Jungkook’s expression darkens, and you moan when his grip on your hair tightens.

“You’re far from a good girl, sweetheart. But he wouldn’t know that ‘cause he only got to fuck you twice.”

“Y-yeah? You sure it’s not more tha—”

Jungkook cuts you off with a hot, angry kiss. Your teeth cling together, and with the aggressive way he inserts his tongue into you unprompted, you know he’s getting a little heated.

It’s juvenile, but you take a little pride in how much it's so easy for you to piss him off.

But one second you’re sharing a searing kiss, the next moment you feel a sting on your bottom lip.

“Oh—! What the fuck!” You push Jungkook away so hard he unceremoniously plops down on the mattress, bringing you down with him. You manage to support yourself with his hard chest, looking at him with bewildered eyes, touching your bottom lip. The fucker just bit it.

Jungkook lets himself rest against the mattress, gripping your thighs instead.

“He’s fucking weird for fucking his student, by the way.” he says, apparently still not done talking about Kim Namjoon. His hands have made their way from your legs to your breasts, but you whisk them away, shooting him a glare.

“You’re a dick,” you jab at his chest, making him let out a slightly pained “Oh!”, soon exchanged with a grunt of pleasure when you reach for his cock behind you to sit on it again, grinding against it. You lean on his chest, keeping your daggers on him. “You can say whatever you want but you can’t blame Prof Kim for fucking his student.”

Jungkook immediately scoffs. Because you refuse to have anything to do with his hands, he crosses them under his head, eyes casting a glance down where you meet, darkening when you roll your hips against him deliciously.

“He’s a person in power. That gotta be unethical.”

You roll your eyes almost automatically.

“So you wouldn’t fuck me if I was your student, then?” you raise your brow, taking note of the obvious surprise coloring Jungkook’s face.

But he quickly shuts it down with a smug response.

“I would just have to look at other professors to fuck. Especially at SNU? Have you seen the women professors there?” There’s a bite to it, and the smirk on his lips heighten that. Like he’s telling you he has way more options than you – and those options can come easy for him. If he wants to.

“See how you’re not fucking any one of them? Exactly.” you retort.

Jungkook snorts. “I don’t have to,” He removes his hands from his head. “Besides, I fucked Hana before in a professor outfit. Does that count?”

You grit your teeth together at the mention of Hana. She’s a friend of yours, also an idol like Jungkook. You actually do have a lot of friends in the industry, and coincidentally, Jungkook has fucked most of them.

“What’s the matter? Don't like the reminder that much?” Jungkook grins. “I remember Jiyeon being in the same position as you now. She really loves riding my dick. Kind of like you. You two really are friends, huh?”

Kim Jiyeon, a member of a famous group in the country. Another one of your friends and one of Jungkook’s on and off hook-ups too. You don’t know if they still do it from time to time – as far as you know, they ended just as you two began. But you don’t ask either, don’t really care at all.

But it’s funny since you remember him saying awhile ago he hasn’t fucked anybody other than you in a long time. Was that a lie?

“Sure. Don’t feel special though, I rode Jaehyun exactly this way. Went at it for hours because my pussy just gets so wet for him.”

You relish the fact that Jungkook’s smile immediately falls off his face when you say that. But that victory only lasted for a brief moment when he spoke his next words.

“You have a dirty mouth on you, I’ll give you that. Shin’s was dirtier, though. Gives crazy head too.”

You don’t really know why he’s mentioning all your idol friends, but fine. If he wants to play that game, you’ll give it to him.

“Don’t you just love a crazy head? Mingyu gave me one when we finally went out on a date, and I still think about it,” You made sure to grind against his cock painfully slowly, making a show of moaning out loud. “Oh god,”

Thankfully, that shuts Jungkook up.

“So he did ask you out.” Jungkook says, and it sounds so… firm. You can’t even recognize the look on his face.

“Yes.”

He goes quiet after that, but his hands on your waist are tight.

Like nothing happened, you continue riding him – and maybe because you talked too much that the momentum got killed, but suddenly, you stop your ministration.

Jungkook’s brows furrow, about to say something. Just as when he opens his mouth to speak, you get off him, leaving him astounded on your bed with his dick still stiff and hard against his abdomen.

“What the hell?”

“I’m going to take a shower.” you say nonchalantly, already heading to your bathroom.

“Seriously?” Jungkook says, the disbelief in his tone palpable. “I’m still hard and I haven’t even cum yet.”

You look back at him. “You can take care of that.”

Jungkook gestures with his hand. “Are you fucking kidding– you’re serious?”

You turn away and go straight to the bathroom, locking the door and immediately turning the shower on – aggressively so.

You’re not mad, is what you tell yourself. You know you started it when you goaded Jungkook about Namjoon. But you also shouldn’t have taken the bait, because Jungkook is competitive in all areas that affects his huge, dumb ego.

Well, fuck him. Figuratively this time. You can’t believe you let him in your place tonight. You can’t even fucking remember what you were reading earlier, because his stupid horny brain decided it was okay to finger you when you were memorizing the mor—

“What the—!”

You look at Jungkook in shock when he suddenly barges in the shower, all naked just like you and goes under the stream too, looking just as pissed as you left him.

“I know where you keep your keys and you can’t just walk out on me like that,” He turns off the shower and you’re about to complain when he suddenly looks at you again, brows furrowing and tone a little dark when he says, “So what? You play this little I’m-fucking-other-people-and-not-just-you games on me every fucking time and expect me to just take it? When I decide to ride along you get a little pissy and act like a child?”

Your jaw slacks, not expecting the call-out. Jungkook steps closer to you, heavy footsteps sounding like a ticking clock above your head. You’ve always known he’s muscly, and much much taller and bigger than you, but his presence especially looms over you when he’s obviously heated like this.

Your backward steps are futile when he only takes steps forward, until you feel the glass wall on your back.

Jungkook follows, and even though his hands are wet from the water, warmth spread through your body when he takes you roughly by the waist.

“Now you have nothing to say because you know I’m right,” he rasps. You whimper when he presses his body to you, his dick flatly rigid against your stomach, the tip aching red when you glance down to look at it. Jungkook clicks his tongue against his cheek, cupping your cheek to redirect your face to him. “Turn around.”

He doesn’t even bother hearing you out, just manhandles you around himself. You suppress a moan when he rests his dick against the cleft of your ass, his body heat spreading within you when he leans down to whisper in your ear, “You know what’s funny? Your mouth looks adorably small when it’s stuffed with my cock, but it sure is big enough when you run it just to piss me off.”

Your thighs clench at his words. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you look back at him. “S-so what are you gonna do about it?”

Jungkook raises a brow. “The best option is to put my dick in it but you’d be way too happy with that.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re so full of yourself—”

“God, can you shut up for even just a minute?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes again.

“Can you just fuck me and get this whole thing over with?”

You don’t expect the slap in your ass that comes after that. Looking back at Jungkook with a gasp, you’re about to voice out a complaint when he suddenly inserts a finger in you, cutting your train of thought.

He slowly eases out of your pussy, but shoves his digit back in, settling with a steady pace in and out.

“Look at you, you’re a cockslut. You like when I’m mean to you, that’s why you piss me off, right?” He says, nibbling on your ear.

You whimper when he adds another finger, moaning at the sensation. Jungkook picks up his pace, and your lewd sounds bounce off the shower stall as you start feeling the hot coil in your stomach.

“J-jungkook,”

“Hm?”

“I want– more.” You say, looking at him with your mouth agape, tears forming in the sides of your eyes. Your thighs feel like giving out, and you feel so empty even though he’s two fingers in it’s almost criminal.

“Say it. What do you want?”

You fight the urge to flip him off, but your tone is still snarky when you simply say, “Dick.”

He chuckles, sending shivers down your spine. “Whose dick? And what’s the magic word?”

You shut your eyes close, grinding your teeth in quiet anger.

“Your dick and please.” You say in the most monotonous voice you could ever muster.

You fully expectd Jungkook to prolong the moment a little longer, but fucking finally, you see him stroking his dick a few moments later, shaking his head and chuckling lowly when he adjusts your position against his crotch.

“You whine and I give you what you want. Aren’t you too spoiled, princess?” He says, aligning the head to your oussy until you feel the tip slowly entering you.

You inhale, relief of having his cock back inside you washing over you.

“Y-you love giving me what I want.” You retort back, pushing yourself on him, careful to keep a tight balance on the glass before you even though Jungkook’s got a tight hold on your waist with his other hand.

He only hums, and soon he thrusts inside with no warning – but it’s a pleasant stretch when it happens, a loud moan escaping your mouth from the sudden movement.

“O-oh god!” you yelp when he begins sliding in out of you at a fast pace, gushing as he kept on giving it to you.

You try to keep your voice low but Jungkook’s stretching you out so well, his thrusts so precise and forceful, dick growing impossibly bigger every passing second.

Soon, the cramped shower stall is fogged, with nothing but your heavy breaths and moans and groans filling the air, Jungkook beating your pussy with speedy trusts your breasts are starting to hurt from the jiggling – thank god that Jungkook decided to fondle them with his palms, squeezing and holding, flicking your nipples every now and then.

“It’s–shit–it’s only me who gets to see you like this, begging for my cock because you fucking love it so much,” Jungkook says against your neck. “So fucking wet, such greedy pussy – and it’s mine, right?” You only whimper, but that obviously does not make Jungkook happy. With a forceful tug on your hair, he makes you look at him. “Answer me when I talk to you, baby, or you’re not gonna cum.”

“Y-yes!”

He hums, slowing down to give you a slow, purposeful trust.

“I don’t care who else you fuck, __. Because at the end of the day, it’s me you come back to.”

You could almost cry by the way he’s going so slow that you feel almost every ridge of his cock, but it feels so good. He’s so big and hits all the right spots, even when he talks shit.

“Shit.” he hisses before speeding up again, and you can feel fhe tell tale sign of his orgasm when his rhythym becomes uncoordinated for a bit of a moment, groaning a little loider than usual, until one of his hands on your waist let go to squeeze his dick in your pussy.

“I’m gonna cum,” Jungkook says with heavy breaths, staggering a little. “Where can I cum?”

“Inside.” you say, “Please cum inside. I need it, Kook. Cum inside me.”

“Yeah?”

“Y-yeah. Please. Need it. Need it so bad.” you bite your lip, feeling a little delirious.

When Jungkook moans a little louder, that’s when you feel the hot liquid running down your legs. It makes your pussy flutter, whimpering when Jungkook inserts his cock in you to push his cum back again, stuffing you with his cum.

“So damn pretty… fuck,” Jungkook whispers, rubbig the base of his cock against your lips.

“Kook–”

He doesn’t let you say any more, just creeps his finger in your pussy, thumb rubbing your clit in eights. And because you’ve been basically edged as well, it doesn’t take too long for you to follow him, cumming down hard.

Jungkook helps you get up, lets you rest your back against him as you try to regain your mobility, chest heaving up and down.

It’s weirdly calming when he runs his hands over your body, caressing your stomach and squeezing your tits as you both come down from your high.

“You okay?” Jungkook whispers against your head. You nod. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it.”

You’re about to ask if he plans on showering as well, but you stop yourself before you can even say it out loud, looking at his disappearing figure when he walks out of the shower box and the bathroom altogether.

It takes you a moment to start the shower again.

But it was only a quick one, and you didn’t exactly think about where Jungkook would’ve gone by the time you're finished, but once you’ve emerged in your bedroom again, you see him pulling up his pants, buckling his belt.

“You’re leaving?” You say, pausing. Then you realize it came out kind of weird, so you try to scratch that. Glancing at your alarm clock by the bedside table, you clear your throat. “I mean, it’s 3 am.”

Jungkook looks up at you. “Yeah. I have practice at 6.”

“Ah.” you nod, blinking at him. You head to your closet, picking out your clothes for the night. “You have three hours left. Tough.”

Jungkook snorts. You can hear him shuffling behind you while you wore another clean camisole and shorts. When you turn around, Jungkook’s dressed now in his black shirt and jeans. His cap and jacket are in the living room, so he'll probably just grab them when he heads out.

When you plop down on the bed, you watch as Jungkook picks up his wallet and his phone, stuffing them in his pockets. You thought he’d leave by then, but he suddenly speaks.

“Hey.” He calls. You raise your brow at him to continue. Jungkook pauses for a moment, looking a bit unsure. Before you can ask, he finally says something. “You can fuck Kim Namjoon or whoever you like,” he starts, staring intently at you. “Just tell me beforehand so we can sort it out.”

A few beats.

Jungkook doesn’t follow it up with anything, and nor do you say anything quickly to that.

The silence sounds way too loud.

“Okay.” Is what you settle with. Jungkook stares at you a little longer than necessary, so you arch your brow. “What? Anything else before you leave?”

It takes Jungkook awhile to say, “Nothing.”

“Okay… and uh, thanks for bringing food.”

He arches a brow, lips curling up a little. You squint your eyes, rolling it when he gives you a knowing smile.

“Good night, I guess?” Jungkook lamely offers.

You nod. “It’s 3 am but okay.”

“You can’t tell me good night, too?” Jungkook says.

“Uh, have a good sleep and sweet dreams?” you say with the flattest tone and face.

He scoffs, but he looks amused. “You can be a little more sincere than that.”

You wave him off. Jungkook shakes his head, turning on his heels to head out the door.

“Jungkook.”

His hands around the door handle pauses mid-air to look at you.

You look away.

“Mingyu did ask me out,” you start.

Jungkook’s face is unreadable when he says, “I didn’t ask.”

You shake your head. “No, I know you didn't, I just–” you sigh. “That was a week ago. I just want to say that… nothing happened.”

It takes awhile for Jungkook to understand.

“So…”

You lied. About the head or whatever the hell you said about Mingyu and you together. Mingyu was a nice guy, and the date was also really nice. But it just… didn’t work out.

“Yeah.” is what you settled with.

You don’t really know what you expected from him, but he just nods.

“Alright.”

That was the last thing he said when he walked out of your door.

You look away, grabbing your phone to check some notification. There’s something on instagram, and there’s a message from Yoongi. Some mp3 file. Music stuff, you guess. And there’s one from Yena too, a member of a rookie female group over at the company who’s getting into songwriting.

When you lie down to sleep, you feel empty.

#jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #bts smut #bts angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #p; drabbles #fic: idol!jk

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dakusan · 1 month ago

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How skz texts you when you're upset

stray kids ot8 x reader | comfort, emotional support, quiet love, soft boys with warm hearts

🌙 synopsis: you're not alone. not ever. eight boys, eight different ways of showing up when the world feels too loud. some send you memes. some send you playlists. some just send a quiet “i’m here.” when you're unraveling at the seams, they don't ask you to hold it together. they hold you instead—in texts, in voice notes, in the silence between words. this isn't about fixing you. it's about loving you exactly as you are—soft, sad, and still worth everything.

💌 a/n: hi hello yes. i promise i have a job (whilst looking for a new one) but i am also a girl with free time and nothing to do, so i write for you people. plus, i just think everyone deserves to be comforted like this, okay?? anyway. if you’ve had a hard day, I hope this felt like a warm hoodie straight from the dryer. or like… a text that says “u up?” but emotionally stable. as always, thank you for reading my little delusions 💗 p.s. i know it’s a short one but like... short and sweet, right?? i hope it’s sweet??? idk anymore 😭 p.p.s. YES I KNOW MY PIC AESTHETICS ARE WEIRD AND DON’T MATCH OR WHATEVER I’M TRYING… I SEE THE VISION IN MY HEAD OKAY THE EXECUTION JUST BE SUFFERING. leave me alone. smh. p.p.p.s no, i haven't made any songs to match this vibe. lmfao, soz •ᴖ•

📍credits: @cafekitsune for the dividers

🎶 Now Playing: "Star Lost" — Stray Kids

Bang Chan // 방찬 the gentle leader energy

[3:14PM] Hey, angel. I know today’s rough. I won’t push, but I’m here. Want to hop on call? We can sit in silence or talk, your pace. [3:17PM] You’re not alone in this. I promise. (You wake up to a Lo-fi playlist he made just for you, titled: “for when your heart’s tired”)

Lee Know // 리노 silent acts of care

[4:52PM] What do you need? Be honest. [4:54PM] I can cook. Or just sit with you. Or send you mean messages about the universe. [5:01PM] Here. Cat pics. Instant serotonin. (He drops off warm food at your door with a post-it: “Eat. Or I’ll be annoyed. 😒”)

Changbin // 창빈 aggressively loving

[5:03PM] WHO. UPSET. YOU. [5:04PM] I will fight them. Emotionally. And maybe physically. 👊 [5:07PM] Also… I’m proud of you. For just… being you. (He sends voice notes of him beatboxing silly rhythms with your name mixed in. Pure serotonin.)

Hyunjin // 현진 the poetic soft boy

[2:27PM] It’s okay to crumble sometimes. Even stars need to rest. [2:29PM] You are still whole, even when you don’t feel it. [2:34PM] Do you want a drawing? Or a distraction? I can write you a silly haiku. (You receive a photo of a messy sketchbook page with your initials in soft florals.)

Han // 한 chaotic comfort personified

[3:59PM] I see you’re feeling like 🍞 soggy bread. [4:00PM] BUT GUESS WHAT. YOU’RE MY FAVOURITE TOAST. [4:02PM] I’m gonna spam you with memes until you smile or block me. (He sends 17 voice memos. One is a fake commercial for “Anti-Sadness Spray,” voiced by him in 4 accents.)

Felix // 필릭스 human sunshine, through and through

[1:36PM] Hey, beautiful. I felt something was off today… Do you want hugs, words, or just my presence? [1:40PM] You deserve kindness even when your mind says otherwise. (You get a video of him baking cookies, captioned: “Saving one for you, always.”)

Seungmin // 승민 realist with a warm heart

[6:18PM] I know you think you’re being dramatic. You’re not. [6:21PM] Want comfort or tough love? [6:25PM] You’re handling more than most would. Let yourself feel it. (He sends a carefully curated playlist titled: “not okay, but surviving.”)

I.n // 아이엔 the shy but intuitive one

[5:40PM] Hey… are you okay? You don’t have to answer. Just wanted you to know I care. [5:46PM] Do you want to watch something later? I’ll even pretend not to hate romcoms. [5:49PM] You matter to me. Just… wanted to say that. (You later find out he stayed up playing your comfort game just to send you tips.)

#stray kids #skz #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #bangchan x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #sundaysoftdrops

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currrentfixations · 1 month ago

Text

the cut that always bleeds 2 — park hu-min

pairing: park hu-min (baku) x gotaksister!reader

genre: just fluff tbh, they deserved a happy ending.

word count: 2,115 words

note: friendship?? they love each other, your honour. also thank you so much for all the love on my first fic it means a lot 😭🫶, hope you guys enjoy this one as well!

part 1

you were woken from your slumber by your phone buzzing next to you.

hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ flashing on your phone screen, before the screen went black again.

you had fallen asleep slumped against the door. your eyes swollen from crying, and your body stiff and sore from the rigid position it had been frozen in for the last couple hours. slowly getting up, you reached for your phone.

your head was throbbing, like someone had struck it with a hammer. tapping your phone, you checked the time. 11pm — you had been out for almost 2 hours. under the time, you noticed all notifications you had missed.

4 missed calls from hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ 1 voicemail from hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ 6 messages from hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ 2 messages from seo jun-tae 🙇‍♂️

nothing from hu-min. you never deleted his number. the last time you messaged him was the day of hyun-tak's accident, wondering if he'd seen or heard from hyun-tak. he never replied.

pushing the thoughts about hu-min aside, you opened up jun-tae's messages first.

seo jun-tae 🙇‍♂️ [9:42pm]: hey, it's jun-tae! seo jun-tae 🙇‍♂️ [9:43pm]: hyun-tak was worried bc you're not answering, call me or him when you get this 😊 delivered — read at 11:03pm

you loved jun-tae — he was a recent addition to your brothers friend group. he was absolutely adorable, and had won you over with his polite and respectful nature. tapping on his contact, you hit the call button. the phone rang 6 times before it went into voicemail.

with no response from jun-tae, you decided to check your brothers messages.

hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:17pm]: hey idiot hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:18pm]: sorry i haven't messaged or called, just got caught up with friends hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:18pm]: call me when you get this hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:36pm]: hey don't purposely ignore me hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:36pm]: i know for a fact you're stuck to your phone 24/7 hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [10:59pm]: ok did something happen, call me when you get this delivered — read at 11:06pm

wow only 6 messages, that was a new record for hyun-tak. better than the time he had messaged you a single word at a time causing your inbox to inflate with 248 messages. you clicked on his contact, checking what time you had missed his calls.

hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ — 2 missed calls at 9:20pm hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ — missed call at 9:38pm hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ — missed call at 11:00pm

you giggled, it was just like him to call you 2 minutes after messaging because you didn't immediately answer. tapping on the voicemail, you gave it a listen.

"hey baby sis, are you okay? i'm worried that little miss glued to her phone isn't answering. anyways whenever you get this, call me back. also don't be mad, i'm at the hospital."

were you really related? your brother was a dumbass. instead of assuming you were asleep, the first thing he thinks is that something is wrong.

wait. hospital. what?

you shot up, panic flooding in. running into your room, you grabbed a small bag, shoving your phone, wallet, keys and headphones inside.

running back out to the entrance, you forced shoes onto your feet. as soon as your shoes were on, you sprinted outside to grab a taxi. the drive to the hospital felt endless. you were beyond scared, imagining all different types of scenarios.

thanking the taxi driver, you rushed inside the hospital and upon entering you heard hyun-tak's voice.

"man, you crybaby. did you cry again?"

and hu-min's voice.

"i didn't."

"si-eun, don't worry he cries all the time." — "i didn't cry, jerk."

hyun-tak sounded completely fine. speeding up a little, you reached the group of boys. seeing hyun-tak with no injuries, you wrapped your hands around him, a sense of relief washing over you. he's okay — your brother was okay.

wait, you were supposed to be angry.

pulling out of his grip, you smacked hyun-tak on the shoulder. "owww, what the hell was that for?" he whined.

"what the hell was that for!?" you said, your eyes bulging. you smacked him again.

"you're an asshole, do you know how worried i was? why on earth would you end the voicemail with 'i'm in the hospital' when you're perfectly fine! you scared me!".

you wanted to smack him more but your body betrayed you, wrapping your arms around him once more.

"i'm sorryyyy —" hyun-tak said, smiling and gently patting your head. "the voicemail ended before i could say anything else. i was going to include that i was in the hospital to see si-eun".

"i'll deal with you at home." you huffed, pulling away from him. forcing a smile, you turned around.

"hi jun-tae, long time no see!" you said to the boy who stood to the right of you, giving him a side-hug.

"hi si-eun, i hope you're okay. nothing serious right?" you asked, giving him a polite wave. si-eun wasn't much of a hugger or talker, especially with those he didn't know well. but he knew he could trust you, you were like a mini hyun-tak.

"i'm okay, just a minor accident. only a few scratches here and there" si-eun replied, smiling softly.

"i'm glad" you responded, mirroring si-eun's smile.

"hey ___". you were surprised hu-min was talking to you, considering he hadn't acknowledged what you had said to him while he was leaving.

you almost didn't want to respond to him, but feeling the eyes of your brother and his friends on you, you settled for a simple 'hi'.

you stared at hu-min in silence, waiting for him to say something. but instead juntae cleared his throat, "i'm going to drop si-eun back to his room. let's go si-eun." — "i'm gonna go with them" hyun-tak added.

they hadn't left because they weren't uncomfortable. they'd left to make you feel comfortable, to give you the privacy you needed. hyun-tak had told them about your past with hu-min, how you had been harbouring feelings for each other, both afraid to do anything about said feelings. how his accident was the tipping point for you.

watching their silhouettes disappear, you felt a hand grab your wrist. you looked up at hu-min with a confusion expression that translated to 'what are you doing?'.

holding onto you, hu-min led you outside. the cold wind hitting your face as you exited the hospital. "what do you think you're doing?" you asked him. "i need to talk to you. sit." you slowly lowered yourself onto the wooden bench.

the frosty air settled on your skin making you realise that you'd forgotten a jacket. out of the corner of your eye, you saw hu-min removing his hoodie and before you could refuse, it is in front of your face.

"i'm fine, it's fine."

"just take it, you're shivering like crazy" he exhaled, placing the zip-up over your shoulders. you, unconsciously, pulled his hoodie closer to you, feeling his lingering warmth in the fabric.

"what did you wanna talk about hu-min?" the cold weather was making you impatient causing the words coming out sharper than intended.

taking a deep breath, hu-min gathered his courage. fighting with other boys, easy. talking to the girl he likes, no thanks. he'd rather fight a 100 boys than feel the emotions he was feeling right now, ever again.

"your brother forgave me, why can't you?" he whispered. he was right. hyun-tak had forgiven hu-min — technically he had never blamed hu-min to begin with. so what about you, what was holding you back for forgiving him?

a heavy silence settled between you. "nevermind... forget i said anything, i'm sorry". hu-min was getting restless, shifting his weight from foot to foot, wondering if he'd said the wrong thing.

"no... you're right, i'm sorry hu-min." you've gotten this far, now it was time to just rip the bandaid off.

tapping the space next to you, you silently invited hu-min to come sit down. he had been standing the entire time, worried that being too close would make you uncomfortable.

"i'm not angry at you —" you spoke slowly, trying to keep your voice steady. "i mean i was angry, initially i did blame you for what happened to hyun-tak. all i could think was, had he not been friends with you, he won't have gone through what he did".

taking a deep breath, you continued explaining how during the first two months of hyun-tak's recovery you were so so angry at him and how by month four, it had become tiring.

not only did you not want to hate the boy you love, you'd realised you were incapable of it.

"soon after, hyun-tak had picked up on the fact that i wasn't speaking to you. and you know what he said to me?" you let out a quiet laugh. "don't hate hu-min too much, the guy is a bit of a dummy. just go talk to him". what you had tried so hard to hide, your brother had picked up on in seconds.

after hearing those words from your brother, you realised that the anger and resentment you had held towards hu-min for being the "cause" of hyun-tak's accident had dissipated. and the real cause was something else altogether.

"the reason i've been upset with you is something else. did you think i was angry because of what happened all this time?"

"yeah..." — "well do you get why i was actually upset?" hu-min shook his head 'no'. you were starting to believe that he did, in fact, have a 99iq.

"hu-min!" you slightly raised your voice, slapping his shoulder. "can you please explain to me why you were actually upset with me?" he asked, with the most innocent look on his face. "are you serious?" was he trying to tease you?

"i was upset because you didn't reach out to me. after i walked past you in the hospital you didn't try to contact me. not once." you sighed, taking a breath to prevent tears from welling up in your eyes.

"i felt abandoned. i thought i meant more-" hu-min pulled you into a hug before you could finish. 'i'm sorry' he repeatedly whispered, like a mantra, his voice full of regret. you pressed your lips together, trying your best to not cry, but it was too late. tears had began to slide down your face, dampening hu-min's shoulder.

"hey, you're making me look bad, why are you apologising? i'm the one who is sorry hu-min, it was wrong of me." you spoke, your voice muffled.

"ialsomayhavebeenupsetbecauseyoudidn'tfeelthesamewayaboutme" you quickly murmured under your breath, praying he hadn't caught onto what you said.

but he had. hu-min pulled back just enough so he could see you, his eyes softening at the sight of your slightly puffy eyes. "oh dear, my poor baby —" he said in a teasing tone, wiping the remnants of your tears. " ___, do you have 99iq or do i? i think we both do."

"i like you".

"i like you so much. my every waking thought is about you. hell, even my dreams are about you." you were speechless, your brain was short-circuiting. "i was worried that baek-jin would go after you so i thought the easiest and safest thing to do was to stay away. i'm sorry i should've told you."

"please say something."

without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around hu-min.

"i like you too, god we're both idiots." you laughed, with a final few tears making their appearance. hu-min hugged you tighter — "guess we are" he mumbled, laughing softly.

"c'mon lets go inside". standing up, you laced your fingers through his. "give me a minute, you head in first" he replied.

you nodded and made your way towards the hospital entrance. realising there was one important thing you forgot to tell him, you turned back around.

"hey baku" you yelled with a grin on your face, "you know you're not alone right, you have me, hyun-tak, jun-tae, and si-eun. try not to hold the burden all on your own, i don't want my future boyfriend to get squashed. now hurry up and come inside".

hu-min hadn't realised how much he yearned to hear that nickname from you. and for the first time in a while, hu-min smiled. not a polite one to show everyone he was okay when he wasn't, but a genuine one.

turning back around, you headed inside. you felt happy, happier than you have been in the past year. even though there was still the whole union mess to clean up and even though you technically weren't dating yet, you were happy. you didn't mind waiting for hu-min for a little while, not when he had waited for you.

for @bloodysxxl who wanted a second part 🫶

and as always lmk your thoughts!! :)

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hyunjincanraptoo · 25 days ago

Text

Dress is karma, perfume regret- L.MH

Requested by my baby @skzaddictsincedebut. It was supposed to be a Hyunjin fic but as we talked, turned to be a Minho fic hehe I hope you like it, baby 💜

Pairing: non idol!Hyunjin x non idol!Minho x reader

Word count: 6.7k

Warnings: multiple sex scenes, sex in a public place, dom!Hyunjin, rebound relationship, Minho is a bit possessive in a few moments

Alexa, play Attention by Charlie Puth

Hyunjin told you he was over her.

He said it like it didn’t matter anymore, like the sentence itself had been chewed over and over until the taste was gone.

“She’s gone”, he whispered once, not to reassure you, but himself. His eyes were hollow, red at the rims. You could smell the cigarettes on his hoodie, and somewhere beneath that, the truth he carried like a secret he never meant to reveal.

You nodded, letting him believe it— letting yourself believe it too. Because you needed to.

There were no dates, no titles, just dark rooms, late hours, mouths colliding in desperation. He kissed you like he didn’t want to remember someone else but never like he wanted to remember you either.

Still, you stayed— always.

When he touched you, it felt like you weren’t just a rebound. It felt like maybe you were helping him heal. Like maybe, if you were soft enough, patient enough, he’d fall for you by accident.

He said he stopped going to parties for you, that things with you were “getting serious”.

You never questioned the glitter on his sleeves, the smudged lip gloss you didn’t wear. You ignored the 2 a.m. messages lighting up his phone, the perfume that didn’t belong to you when he swore he just went to grab a drink with friends.

He’d say, “You’re the only one I see”, and you’d bite your tongue until it bled. Because if you asked questions, he might leave. And he was all you had left.

But it was always about her. Always her.

“Do you think she still goes out with Mingi?”

“I heard she changed her number. What kind of person just… disappears?”

“Her friend posted a picture. I swear that’s her jacket”

Even though it hurt you, you just brushed it off, changed the subject, memorized her name like a hymn you didn’t believe in.

And still, you stayed. Love, you told yourself, could grow in ruins.

Until one night, your body gave out—- feverish, you could barely stand. Your hands shook as you typed the message.

You [6:18pm]: I feel really sick. Can you come over?

He didn’t reply. But you saw the stories— Hyunjin on a rooftop with Felix and Jeongin. A drink in one hand, a wide smile on his face like nothing else mattered— like you didn’t matter. That’s when something in you broke.

The next morning, still burning with fever and humiliation, you sent one final message:

You [8:03 am] : Do you really love me, like you say you do?

You looked at your phone for hours. The screen stayed dark— your heart, even darker.

And then, hours later, he finally answered:

Hyun💜 [10:36pm] : I’m trying

Not yes, not no, not I’m sorry— trying. Like love was homework, like you were a task he never planned to finish.

You blocked him, deleted the messages, the playlists. Sat on your bathroom floor and sobbed like your ribs were cracking open.

But your heart didn’t get the memo— it kept beating like he might still come back.

✧˖*°࿐

A week passed, then ten days. Still, you didn’t cry. Not because it didn’t hurt but because you were too hollow to do so. You saw Hyunjin in places that didn’t make sense— the detergent aisle, the back of a taxi, the doorway of Jisung’s apartment when he opened it with open arms and didn’t ask questions.

Then, late one night, there was a knock on your door— Hyunjin.

He didn’t say a word at first. Just stood there, wet from the rain, eyeliner smudged under his eyes. You almost didn’t let him in, but you did— of course you did. Because love is stupid like that.

He said all the things you used to beg to hear: “I miss you. I don’t want anyone else, I’m ready this time. Please let me prove it”.

You shouldn’t have believed him. You wanted to tell him to leave you alone— you should’ve. But when love has been starvation, even crumbs can feel like a feast.

So you kissed him— let him stay the night. Let him into your bed, into your heart, even without knowing if he still deserved to be there.

At first, he was different— he brought you flowers, called you instead of texting, told you he hadn’t been with anyone since, said your absence felt like a hole in his ribs.

And for a while, you believed it. Until the nights got longer again, the silences asphyxiating, the lies messier.

He still stayed out late, ignored your messages, still talked about her. And one night, finally, it broke.

It started small, you asked where he’d been. He flinched, didn’t answer.

You asked again, voice quieter this time, terrified of the answer. That’s when he snapped

“What, you don’t trust me now?! God, you’re always checking me like I’m some fucking criminal”

Your jaw tensed, “What do you expect? You keep lying to me”

“Oh, right!”, he scoffed, “Because you know everything, huh? Always so perfect, so patient, acting like some damn martyr just because you put up with me!”

Your throat closed, but you didn’t look away, “I’ve loved you through everything! Through every time you left me guessing, every time you swore you were over her and then said her name in your sleep!”

His mouth twisted, “Don’t bring her up!”

“Why not?”, you snapped, voice breaking, “She’s always here, Hyunjin! In every silence, in every night you come home tasting like someone else!”

“That’s not fair, Yn”

“Neither is giving everything to someone who only half shows up, Hyunjin”

He stepped back like you slapped him, “You think I wanted to feel like this, huh? Like I’m never enough for anyone? You think I enjoy being this messed up?”

You blinked fast, “Then why make me proof of it? Why break me just to prove you’re still broken?”

His chest heaved, “I didn’t ask you to fall for me”

You paused, then said it.

“It’s not like you will ever let me”

The silence grew thicker between you.

His voice came lower, colder, “Maybe we should stop this. Before we ruin each other”

“No”, you whispered, holding back the tears, “You already ruined me, Hyunjin”

Your legs gave out right there in the hallway. You slid down the wall like your bones had turned to water, arms curling around yourself as your vision blurred. Your breath came in short, panicked gasps.

But he didn’t move— didn’t kneel, didn’t touch you. Just stood there, like watching you fall apart was easier than catching you.

That night, you left. No more words or apologies. Just an emptiness that lingered.

✧˖*°࿐

You cried for three days.

Not all at once, grief isn't so merciful. It came in fragments, like tiny glass pieces you found all over the house.

The first time was in Han’s apartment, where you’d been crashing on his couch. He handed you a grilled cheese sandwich with a post it that said "cheese heals" and you laughed so hard you started crying. He didn't flinch, just sat down beside you and offered a paper towel.

The second time, you found Hyunjin’s hoodie in your dirty laundry. You held it to your face, breathed in the scent of him, and then cried so hard your body ached for hours after.

The third was the softest, barely a sound. You just looked at yourself in the mirror, red eyed and hollow, and whispered, “I can’t do this anymore”. Then you didn’t leave the bed for a day and a half.

Han never pushed, he just kept showing up. With soup, dumb jokes, the Netflix password he stole from Chan. And when he caught you trying to rewatch old videos of Hyunjin, he gently closed your laptop and said, “Okay. You can cry now, we’ll figure out what to do with the sadness later”

You never figured it out. But eventually the weight shifted anyway.

✧˖*°࿐

Days passed in a blur. You still flinched at notifications, still woke up thinking it was Hyunjin at the door.

But then one night, two weeks later, Jisung dragged you to a gig at a small venue, where Jeongin’s band was playing, to "touch some grass." You still wore your sadness like a winter coat— long sleeves, collar up to hide the bruising underneath.

Jeongin was there looking like chaos in eyeliner and cut sleeves, scolding the tech guy about the lighting. You were just trying not to run into someone acquainted when a voice cut through the noise.

“Hey”, someone said, “You’re Han’s best friend, aren’t you?”

You turned.

Minho. Han already talked about him— slim, not very tall, with soft glowing black hair, and a flawless face

“Didn’t expect you to survive this long around his sense of humor. The guy’s like a washed up comedian with no jokes left”

You blinked, caught off guard.

“You’re Minho, right? The one from the band”

“The one and only”, he extended a hand mocking formality, “Lee Minho. Chaos incarnate, occasional guitarist, permanent menace”

For your own surprise— you laughed. It caught in your throat, unusual, but it was real. He tilted his head at you, amused.

“See?”, he said, eyes glinting, “Told Han I’d get a laugh out of you before the night ended”

You let out a weak laugh, “Guess "I haven’t exactly been a fountain of joy lately”

His smile didn’t falter, “Everyone’s been there. Some of us just silence it with louder lies”

“You don’t have to tell me what happened”, he said, “But I hope it didn’t make you feel small”

You looked at him and maybe that was the first time in a while you felt seen.

That night, you talked. Just a little, enough to make you feel noticed.

Minho didn’t ask about Hyunjin, didn’t make you feel like your sadness needed to be hidden. And for the first time in forever— you fell asleep without replaying every terrible thing Hyunjin ever said or done.

You started seeing Minho more. Not dating, not quite. But he’d walk you home after shows, show up with bubble tea before you even asked. Brush your hair out of your eyes like it wasn’t a big deal.

And maybe it wasn’t. But to you, it felt like life was worth living again.

✧˖*°࿐

Minho didn’t try to fix you. He wasn’t soft about it, either. He was teasing, annoying, an expert at breaking your walls down one joke at a time. When you sulked in the corner, he threw popcorn at you. When you frowned too long, he told you your “resting heartbreak face” made Seonghwa— the bassist— cry.

He didn’t hold your sadness, but he didn’t ignore it either. He just existed beside it like someone unafraid of walking through your storm without an umbrella.

And over time, your laugh stopped sounding forced. You started choosing the clothes you liked again, picking your own coffee instead of Hyunjin’s order, listening to your own songs in the car. It stopped feeling like you were the victim and started feeling like you were the protagonist of your own story— finally taking the lead in the life you’d been living on pause.

You realized that on a soft afternoon. You were leaning against Minho’s car outside the venue with a melting cup of ice cream in one hand. He said something dumb and you shoved him playfully, making the cup tilt dangerously close to his shirt. He retaliated by stealing a bite and making a dramatic sound

“You’re such a menace”, you said, grinning.

He grinned back, lazily, “Takes one to know one”

Suddenly, he paused.

“You’ve got… wait”, he pointed, reaching up with the back of his knuckle, “Ice cream. Right there”

You blinked. His fingers brushed the corner of your mouth— too slow to be innocent, too warm to be friendly.

“Sloppy”, he murmured, thumb ghosting your bottom lip

Your breath caught. He must’ve felt it, because he didn’t pull his hand back. Not right away.

Instead, his gaze dropped— mouth to eyes, eyes to mouth. Like a question, like a maybe.

You nodded.

Minho kissed you carefully, like the first note of a song he didn’t quite know how to play. At first, you hesitated— caught between doubt and memory— but when you kissed him back with certainty, that was all he needed.

His hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer until your ice cream cup was squished somewhere between you, completely forgotten. You cupped his jaw, fingers tracing the line over his jaw, catching on the rough patch that hadn’t been shaved. It wasn’t fireworks or crashing waves— it was the kind of kiss that made you feel quiet inside.

Like nothing else was asking to be heard.

When you pulled back, your forehead rested against his. Both of you breathless, neither of you saying what it meant.

But you genuinely smiled for the first time in weeks.

And across the street, unseen in the shadows— Hyunjin stood frozen.

You were laughing, you were kissing someone else.

And for the first time, Hyunjin tasted the bitterness of a goodbye he didn’t get to say.

✧˖*°࿐

It had been hours since the kiss, and the quiet between you and Minho still felt tender.

You sat on the hood of his car, legs stretched out beside his, empty ice cream cups forgotten between you. Minho leaned back on his palms, facing the stars. He wasn’t looking at you, but he was thinking about you. You could feel it in the silence.

“Wanna talk about it?”, he asked eventually.

You glanced sideways, “The kiss?”

He smirked, a breath of a laugh escaping, “No, but now I kinda want to”

You nudged his knee with yours, hiding your smile, “What, then?”

He flicked a glance at you, “Hyunjin. I saw you freeze when I leaned in, like you remembered him”

Your breath caught, just for a second

“I did”, you admitted, “But not in the way you think”

“Then tell me”

You picked at a tear in your jeans, “I used to think that if I moved on, it would mean I forgave everything. But when you kissed me, it wasn’t about forgetting him. It was about…”, you paused, “Letting myself want something else. Something better”

Minho turned to you fully, touching your ankle lightly with his fingers

“I’m not trying to fix anything”, he said, “I just like being the person who makes you laugh again… and kiss occasionally”

“You’re more than that”, you murmured.

The words lingered between you, dangerous. Then Minho cleared his throat, “Okay, before I combust, let’s talk about something stupid and distracting. Like what you’re wearing to Jeongin’s party this weekend?”

You blinked, “Jeongin’s birthday is this weekend?!”

“Saturday. Whole band’s going. Han said you might not show”

“Yeah”, you said honestly, “Didn’t want to deal with Hyunjin acting like some post breakup martyr”

Minho scoffed, “You mean his ‘I suddenly want to change and be a better man’ performance act II ?”

“Exactly that one”

You paused for a few seconds, then your lips curled in a wicked smile, “What if I do go?”

Minho raised a brow, “What changed?”

You looked over at him with something devilish in your eyes, “What if I show up like I don’t remember how much he hurt me? Like he’s not even worth the pain. What if I make him feel like a leftover?”

Minho’s gaze sharpened.

You sat up straighter, “What if I wear something unforgivably hot? Like a revenge dress. You know the kind”

His jaw tensed but you kept going

“Red, short, backless. Or maybe something black, silk, sinful. Something that screams I’m not yours anymore”

Minho exhaled through his nose, “You’re enjoying this a little too much”

“You said to distract you!”

“I didn’t mean with fantasies that’ll make me want to lock you in a closet for my sanity's sake”

You laughed, “What? Are you jealous?”

He met your gaze then, quiet and piercing, “Yes”

It came out light, but your breath caught anyway

“But I’ll help”, he added, and his voice got rougher, “If this is what you need to do to get over him, then I’ll be the one zipping you into that stupid dress”

“You’re not scared I’ll like the attention?”, you teased

“I’m scared I’ll like it too much”, Minho said, “That I’ll forget it’s not about me”

He looked away, cleary bothered

You slid off the hood and stood in front of him, “Maybe… it’s not only about Hyunjin”

Minho looked at you like he wanted to believe it. Like the words touched a place he didn’t realize was sore.

“I’ll pick you up at eight”, he said finally, standing tall in front of you, “But if anyone touches you, I’m throwing hands. Even if it’s Jeongin. It’s his birthday, not a free pass”

You laughed, “That’s fine by me… Thanks, Minho”

He didn’t say you’re welcome. He just nodded once, and reached out like he might tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, then thought better of it. But the gesture lingered— like the memory of his kiss, like something still waiting to bloom.

✧˖*°࿐

The zipper stuck halfway up your spine. You stood in front of the mirror, arms twisted, fingertips slipping on the silk as it clung to you like steam on a mirror when Minho’s voice cut through the room

“Let me”

You stepped aside without saying a word. Minho stepped closer, his fingers brushing the base of your spine— warm and cautiously. He didn’t speak, didn’t rush, just followed the curve of your back with care, dragging the zipper upward like he was sealing some type of relic.

You looked like sin in that dress— black silk, sleeveless, shoulders bare, the fabric hugging your ribs and waist. The fabric slid down your thighs, revealing a glimpse of skin through the high side slit— just enough to tease, like a secret begging to be spilled.

It was not just a dress— it was a blade. And Minho felt every inch of its cut.

You caught his gaze in the mirror— fixed on you, dark and unreadable. His jaw flexed, lips pressed tight, Adam’s apple bobbed once as he swallowed.

“You look like a threat”, he murmured, voice rough.

You tilted your head slightly, “That bad?”

“That good”

But his words were tight like they hurt to say.

You turned to face him, your hand rising slowly, fingers brushing his collar, smoothing down his chest. Just enough for him to feel the heat beneath his shirt.

“You hate this”, you said, soft as velvet.

He didn’t answer— he didn't need to.

“You hate that I’m wearing this for a room Hyunjin will be in”

Your gaze lingered on him. On the way his fingers twitched at his sides, how his jaw tensed as if grinding down the urge to scream.

You leaned in, so close your breath brushed his neck, “Do you want to hate me a little more… or forget he exists for a minute?”

His brow lifted in confusion as you dropped to your knees.

The air left his lungs, “What are you…”

“Shh”, you said with your fingers already on his belt.

He didn’t move, just watched, locked in place, pupils blown wide as you unbuckled him. You pushed his pants down enough, shifted the fabric aside, and found him already half hard.

You stroked him slowly, with purpose, like he was something to be adored, not undone. You kissed the head softly. Then again, tongue flicking just enough to make his hips twitch forward.

He groaned— low and gutural, a sound pulled from somewhere deep.

“You’re not helping me forget”, he choked out, one hand cradling your jaw.

You looked up, lips still barely wrapped around him, “No?”

“You’re making it worse”

But his hand tightened on your jaw. Not pushing or guiding— asking, needing.

You hummed around him, taking more of his length, letting your throat stretch and burn as he slipped deeper, inch by inch. He cursed under his breath, completely broken, as you kept going until he was buried deep and your eyes filled with tears.

His other hand found your hair, just to hold— to ground himself.

You felt him tremble as you worked him cruelly— lips slick, tongue precise, hands unstoppable. You felt the moment his self control snapped— the way his breath hitched, the curse choked back, the way his hips stuttered forward once, then twice. He didn’t last much longer.

And when his orgasm hitted, you swallowed everything.

As you stood up again, you swiped your mouth with the back of your hand, eyes locked on his, lips curved into something wicked.

He grabbed you with both hands, yanked you in and kissed you like he was trying to brand you with his mouth. His palms found your waist, your back, your ass— squeezing, grounding himself in your body, even as the fabric slipped beneath his grip.

“I still hate that you’re wearing it”, he growled against your mouth.

“I know”

“But if you’re going to walk into that party looking like vengeance…”, his eyes narrowing, “Then remember who had you on your knees first, Diana”

“I’ll be thinking of you the whole time”

And he believed in it. Because he had to.

Because the taste of you was still on his tongue and he was terrified of you coming back from that party tasting like someone else’s lips

✧˖*°࿐

The room hushed when you walked in.

Even with the music pounding— there was a shift. You felt it. Hyunjin saw you almost instantly.

He was across the room, his drink halfway to his lips, laughing at something Felix said. But his laugh died because you looked like revenge in heels.

You didn’t even glance at him. You walked past, slowly with Minho beside you, smirking like a villain. You let Felix eat you with his eyes too and smiled just enough to make Hyunjin’s blood boil.

And then, clearly enjoying the chaos, Minho leaned in.

“Everyone’s staring”, he said, voice low in your ear, “Should we give them something to talk about?”

You hummed, “Let’s do it, pretty boy”

He took your hand, tugged you to the middle of the dance floor, and pulled you flush against him— his palm flat on your back, his other hand gripping your hip like he’d done it a thousand times before.

The music was bass heavy and loud.

“You’ve been going ‘round, going ‘round, going ‘round every party in L.A

Cause you knew that I, knew that I, knew that I’d be at one”

You moved with him like your bodies already knew each other. Pressed your chest to his, let your hands tangle behind his neck. You smiled up at him, letting him see all of it— your recklessness, your want, your hunger.

And Minho, smirking, leaned down and kissed you.

It was slow at first, a soft claim in the middle of the crowd.

Then your fingers tightened in his hair, and he tilted his head to deepen it— tongue slick against yours, a groan low in his throat. The bass thrummed through your bones, but it was nothing compared to the heat curling in your stomach.

“I know the dress is karma, perfume regret

You got me thinking ‘bout when you were mine”

From across the room, Hyunjin was losing his mind. You felt it— the way his jaw clenched, the way his body shifted forward like a storm gathering speed.

By the time he reached you, you pulled back from Minho, just enough to look at him. But Hyunjin didn’t say a word, just grabbed your wrist and tugged— hard, possessive.

Minho’s brow arched, calm but defiant, “Jeongin invited both of us, man! Chill”

“I’m not yours anymore, Hyunjin”, you added

He ignored you both. He just dragged you down the hall, up the stairs, and into a dark, empty corridor. Your back hit the wall as his mouth hovered near yours— not touching, just shaking with control.

“Is that what you’re doing now?”, he breathed, “Grinding on random guys in front of me?”

“You told me we shouldn’t do this anymore”, you whispered, trailing a finger down his chest, “So I stopped”

His eyes darkened, “You’re punishing me, Yn”

You smirked, “Was it working?”

He grabbed your waist, pulling you against him, letting you feel how hard he already was.

Your voice was a whisper, “Looks like it”

He didn’t answer, instead, he kissed you—rough, desperate. His hand slid down your back and under your dress, finding bare skin. No panties. He growled into your mouth.

“You came out like this?”, he asked, fingers teasing the slick between your thighs, “No fucking underwear?”

You bit his bottom lip, “Didn’t think I’d need them”

“You’re unbelievable”

“And you’re the one who let me go”

He placed his thigh between yours, grinding you against it while his fingers dragged slow and wet through your folds.

“This”, he growled, “is mine”

“Not anymore”

He slipped two fingers inside you then, just to prove a point. Your knees buckled. You moaned into his neck, nails digging into his shoulders.

He moved excruciatingly slow, curling his fingers inside you, pressing his palm to your clit while his mouth trailed kisses down your neck.

“Say it”, he murmured.

“Say what?”, you gasped, rocking against his hand.

“That you missed this. That you missed me”

You shook your head, teasing even more, “Why should I? You watched me leave”

He pulled his fingers out, sucked them with a moan, then turned you around, bending you forward against the hallway wall. His cock dragged over your folds, flushed and hot through his clothes.

“You’re going to beg for me, pretty girl”, he whispered, voice like poison, “And when I fuck you right here, you’ll remember exactly who you belonged to”

You looked back over your shoulder, lips parted, dark eyes shining.

“Let’s see that”

You felt his hands burning your hips, the heat of his cock dragging through your folds, the weight of him behind you.

The hallway wasn’t private, anyone could walk in, anyone could hear. That was the point— letting everyone know you were still his.

Hyunjin didn’t even unzip fully. He just tugged his pants low enough to free himself and lined up, one hand bracing the wall beside your head while the other slid between your thighs again, teasing.

“You’re soaked”, he murmured, dragging his tip through them, “Dripping. Is that all for me, babygirl?”

You gasped, hips twitching back, “N-no, it’s for Min…”

He didn’t give you the chance to finish, he just slipped in with one thrust, and everything in you clenched. You moaned his name so loud you had to bite your own arm to muffle it.

He didn’t give you time to adjust, he didn’t want patience— he wanted possession.

Each thrust was brutal, paced to punish. The slap of skin on skin echoed down the hallway with each sharp snap of his hips. You arched, hands flat against the wall, feeling every inch of him stretch you, fill you, ruin you once again.

“This what you wanted?”, he rasped against your ear, “Me fucking you where anyone could walk by? Where your new boyfriend could walk by, huh?”

Your lips parted, eyes rolling back, “Y- you wish”

His hand snaked around to your front body again, thumb pressing tight circles on your clit in time with his thrusts, “Bullshit. Let them hear how much you still need me”

Your moans turned uncontrollable, broken, needy. Every part of you was on fire, your thighs shaking, your stomach so tight you could barely breathe.

Hyunjin groaned, forehead against your shoulder, “You feel so fucking good. Fuck… I missed you”

When your orgasm hitted, it hit hard. You came around him with a cry, your body spasming, stars bursting behind your eyes. Hyunjin kept fucking you through it, chasing his own high, until his hips stuttered and he growled your name into your shoulder, spilling inside you in thick, pulsing waves.

You kept in silence, just panting. Just feeling him pressed to your back, cock still inside you, both of you ruined. When suddenly…

A voice called out, “Hyung?”

You froze. He froze.

“Yo, hyung… you out here? Someone said you ran off looking crazy”

You looked around and there, at the end of the hallway, stood Felix, blinking, stunned, holding a slice of cake on a plate.

He paused, scanning the scene— your disheveled hair, pulled up dress, Hyunjin still panting and buried inside you.

Felix slowly nodded, “I’ll, uh…”, he raised the plate, “I’ll just leave this here. It’s red velvet”

He set the plate on the floor and backed away, mumbling, “Y’all are nasty. Get a fucking room”.

You burst out laughing as Hyunjin groaned into your neck, “I’m going to kill him”

Still catching your breath, you both sat on the floor like kids who had misbehaved. Your lipstick was still smudged, your legs were still trembling, and his hand was still under your dress.

Hyunjin panted quietly beside you. The hallway buzzed with the echo of what just happened, and neither of you spoke.

Until he reached out and pulled the slice of cake.

“Aftercare?”

You rolled your eyes, but leaned in. He held up a plastic fork but you bit it directly from his fingers, obscenely licking the frosting with purpose.

“God”, he muttered, watching your mouth, “You’re going to be the death of me, Yn”

You shrugged, “Then die right”

The silence lingered, heavy

“Can I ask something?”, he said suddenly, quieter

You nodded.

“Did you ever actually believe me? When I said I was trying?”

You tilted your head, “I wanted to”

“But you didn’t”

“No”, you said honestly, “I just hoped trying would eventually become truth”

That broke something in his face— guilt. He looked down.

“I never deserved you”

“You still don’t”, you said, lifting his chin.

He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, they were softer.

“I want to try again”, he said, “For real this time. No lies, just us”

You stared at him like you were inspecting his soul. Then, grabbed the cake and smashed it into his chest, making him gasp.

The red batter slid down his designer shirt like justice served sweet.

You grinned.

“You don’t get to have me just because you finally want me”, you said, standing up and straightening your dress, fixing your lipstick in the glass of a photo frame.

“And Hyunjin… Minho’s not a rebound.You’re the reason I needed to start over”

His jaw clenched, eyes desperate. “Yn… don’t do this”

He touched your face so gentle, like he was afraid of breaking you

“Please,” he whispered. “Don’t go back to him”

You looked at him— his eyes were red, lips swollen, hair a mess. He looked like everything you ever loved and everything you couldn’t survive loving again.

“You think this means anything?”, you asked, tilting your head, “You think a few minutes against a hallway wall undo everything you broke?”

He stepped closer, voice raw, “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. I was stupid, and scared, and I thought…”

“You thought I’d wait”

“When… when I saw you with him for the first time”, he said, “I knew I screwed up. I knew that… deep down, I always loved you”

“And that’s your burden to carry”, you replied.

Then, slowly, gracefully, you turned around to walk away. He followed a step, then stopped when you looked past your bare shoulder. You smiled, just barely, and kept walking.

And Hyunjin? He stayed behind— right where the past belonged

You descended the stairs slowly, like the whole room was watching again.

Minho was by the drinks, one brow raised, casual as ever.

“You good?”, he asked, handing you a slice of cake

You took a bite.

“Delicious”, you said, licking a bit of frosting from your lip.

His gaze dropped to your mouth, “You get what you needed?”

You nodded, letting your hand settle on his chest, “I did”

Minho chuckled, shaking his head, “Remind me to never get on your bad side”

You pointed your plastic fork to him

“Don’t give me a reason”

He laughed, then you ate cake together

✧˖*°࿐

The party faded behind you both as Minho helped you to get into his car. The engine hummed softly beneath the weight of the tension between you. His fingers brushed against your skin as he adjusted the seatbelt for you, and the moment lingered longer than necessary.

"Come on, let's get you home", he said, his voice low, almost intimate. The streetlights outside flickered as he drove, the air thick with unspoken words.

You didn’t say much on the drive, your mind still tangled in the remnants of what happened with Hyunjin. But Minho didn’t push you to talk, he knew better than that. He could tell, just by the way you shifted in your seat, that you were unraveling. That whatever you had with Hyunjin was done, even though the weight of it lingered.

You didn’t expect him to follow you in when you unlocked your front door, but he did— silently, like his feet knew the way without permission.

Minho stood by the window, looking out with arms crossed. He didn’t take off his jacket. You leaned on the kitchen counter, unsure of what to do or say.

And then, without turning around, he said it, “I heard you”

Your heart stopped.

“I wasn’t trying to” he added softly, “Wasn’t listening. Just… you were quite loud”

You let out a shaky breath, “Minho…”

“It’s fine. I’m not your boyfriend”

You walked over, stood beside him, “No, it’s not fine”

He looked at you then. Not angry, just… guarded. Eyes searching yours like he didn’t know what he was hoping to find.

“Did it mean anything?”, he asked, voice low, “You screaming his name like that”

Your cheeks burned, not from shame— from knowing that he heard it in the first place.

You shook your head, “Not in the way you think”

He waited in silence for you to continue

“It wasn’t about wanting him back, you finally said, “It was about showing him what he lost. What he’ll never get again”

Minho’s brow creased just slightly, “So it was revenge”

“Closure”, you corrected, “Closure that just happened to look messy”

He looked away again, lips twitching in something like frustration

You moved closer, “Look, I don’t expect you to understand…”

“I do”, he said quickly, “That’s the problem”

You blinked in surprise

“I get it”, he continued, “He hurt you. Left you like you were disposable and then he sees you again and suddenly realizes you’re not. That you never were”

He sighed through his nose, “But I hate that he still got a piece of you anyway”

You didn’t respond right away. You reached out, gently took his hand on yours

“That part of me… the one that loved him… it’s gone, Minho. You don’t have to compete with something that is dead”

His fingers curled around yours tightly, “Then why does it still feel like he’s in the room?”

You leaned in, rested your forehead against his.

“Because closure can be loud”, you whispered, “But love is quiet. And I’m here, with you”

Minho exhaled like he’d been holding that breath all night. His other hand came to your waist, grounding himself in your warmth.

“Stay with me tonight”, you said softly.

He nodded, “I was never planning to leave”

His hand cupped your chin gently, “I’m not gonna leave you like he did”, Minho murmured "I’m going to take care of you”

You didn’t answer, just leaned in and kissed him.

His kiss was nothing like Hyunjin’s. There was no rush, no fury, no desperation to claim— there was steadiness. His lips were soft but certain like he’d already decided this was happening, and he knew you’d say yes.

And fuck, you did.

Minho’s fingers curled around your waist as he pulled you closer, his other hand rising to pull you closer from the back of your head. You melted into him, exhaling into his mouth as his thumb swept across your cheek.

He followed you to the bedroom— hands in your hair, mouth on your jaw, your neck, your shoulder. It wasn’t about anger, it wasn’t about proof, it was about the way your body melted into his without trying.

He undressed you slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, as if memorizing every inch of you. His hands were gentle, almost reverent, as he pulled your dress over your head, and the way he looked at you made your heart race— gentle, intense, and completely focused on you.

He took his time, touching, kissing, exploring every curve of your body, and you felt the remnants of Hyunjin’s touch fade away, replaced with something tender, something that made you feel whole again.

"You deserve to feel safe”, Minho murmured against your skin, "And I’m here to make sure you do”

When he laid you down, he kissed your knee, your inner thigh, your stomach, respecting your time, letting you breath

“You’re not his anymore’’, he whispered

“Minho…”, you whispered back.

He pressed his mouth between your thighs with a tenderness that burned. His tongue moved with precision, not chasing your reaction, but pulling it from you— earning it.

You gasped, fingers threading into his hair, hips jerking when he flattened his tongue and dragged it up softly like silk slipping over skin. The sound he made in response— low, guttural— vibrated against you, pulling a whimper from your throat.

Minho moaned when you trembled, like your pleasure was his pleasure too. He held you steady with strong hands on your hips, thumbs stroking circles into your skin as if to calm the building tension.

You came with a loud cry, legs twitching around his shoulders, back arching from the bed— it didn’t stop him. He guided you through it, licking you through every tremble, kissing your inner thighs in reverence, like you were fragile.

And when your boy collided on the bed, he kissed a path up your stomach until you could feel his breath ghosting over your lips. He whispered soft things against your skin,too quiet to catch in full but enough to make your heart stutter.

He finally undressed— fingers slowly unfastening buttons, pushing his pants down mindfully. Exposing not just skin, but the depth of everything he’d been holding back.

His hands were warm when they touched you again, sliding over your thighs, your sides, up to your breasts. And when he entered you, he did it slowly, like it meant more than just physical intimacy. Like he belonged there, each inch asking if he could, each one answering that he already did. His hips rolled forward, deep and unhurried, burying himself in you with a groan that sounded more like relief.

Your breath caught, arms tightening around him as he whispered it in your ear, possessive, “You feel that?”

He thrusted so deep that it made you gasp, “That’s me. Not him”

You nodded, tears escaping your eyes, your chest aching. You dug your nails into his back, mouth finding his like you needed it to survive. The kiss turned desperate— not rushed, but heavy, like it carried too much. Like it had waited too long.

Minho moved in a slow, grounding rhythm. With presence, chasing another climax from you with nothing but devotion.

You came again with a moan so soft that didn’t sound like yours, face buried in his neck, your whole body ruined and shaking. He held you close through it, letting you tremble in his arms, murmuring your name again and again like it was sacred.

And then he followed, hips stuttering as he pulled out just in time, spilling hot and thick across your belly with a broken sound that melted against your shoulder.

And when it was over, he didn’t leave. He stayed right there— skin to skin, chest to chest, legs tangled. His thumb brushed your cheek, his lips found your temple.

"You’re mine”, he whispered.

And you didn’t question.

Because Hyunjin broke you, but Minho... Minho was the rebuild.

If you enjoyed it please consider liking and reblogging. Feedbacks, loves notes and requests are very much appreciated 😊

Taglist: @hyyunjinnn , @jehhskz , @mbioooo0000 , @nightmarenyxx , @rozsdascsaptelep, @thatonegirlonhere , @notmedina127, @sweetlifeofjoy , @jeonginsleftcheek , @yelhsaa, @my-neurodivergent-world , @hyunles , @lexlikesbts , @imagine-all-the-imagines , @mysterysold , @teenagepeterpan , @hangonhyunjin , @yxna-bliss

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mr2swap · 6 months ago

Text

Late Christmas gift

I looked at the kitchen clock again, “6:36PM” It had only been 2 minutes since I last looked, after that I looked at the phone just to confirm that the time was correct, Maybe Grandpa Greg's flight had missed. Delayed? We hadn't seen each other, I placed my grandfather's glasses over my eyes, which I had easily gotten used to always having at my side.

I hated these stupid glasses, Grandpa's eyes work as much as his tiny, wrinkled cock, it's been over a year since me and Grandpa swapped bodies, I'd forgotten to buy a damn gift for Grandpa Greg, I didn't even know he liked me. To old people before I became one... I should have given him a foot massager. This huge belly makes my feet so tired that I prefer not to move from the couch for hours.

Anyway, I didn't have a gift, so I just wrote on a piece of paper “Valid for any gift.” How the hell was I supposed to know that what I wanted for Christmas was to be young again?”

The day after Christmas we simply woke up in each other's bodies and the worst thing of all is that we can't say anything about this ridiculous body swapping! Every time I try to tell my parents or one of my friends that I'm trapped in my grandfather Greg's obese, disgusting decrepit body, those thoughts just disappear from my mind and I start talking like I'm a 60-year-old old man. The last time I tried to tell my ex-girlfriend Stephanie, I “woke up” at the racetrack showing off my enormous stomach with a pipe in my lips and several empty beer cans around me.

But all this would end soon... or at least it was supposed to. We had tried everything to swap again, we even watched a long marathon of body swap movies to try various methods, but nothing worked... the only solution was to try to recreate what caused this problem in the first place, I just had to give him the same gift, and he would write “my body back” or something like that.

My family was preparing for dinner when suddenly a sound that came from my cell phone made me put the beer I was drinking on my huge belly.

“I'm sorry kid, but I didn't know how to tell you in person, I decided to leave things as they are for a while, I still have things to do with your body, but don't worry I'll be back for the new year... maybe, I just met a guy incredible on the beach and I wouldn't want to ruin it”

Hey guys! happy holidays!

This is a little story I wrote last year for my Ko-Fi page, thank you all so much for another wonderful year, if you like bodyswap and stories you can support me on my Ko-fi page to access my archive of over 250 bodyswap stories, from my old patreon and discord…

oh! And join my discord server, if you like RP or if you have any ideas that you would like me to write in a future story, I'm taking suggestions for ideas and images.

#body swap #male body swap #bodyswap #body switch #male transformation

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answer2jeff · 2 years ago

Text

break-up, make-up.

song : post break-up sex

warnings : fem!reader, porn with some plot, smut, unprotected piv, make-up sex, lip being needy, mentions of alcohol and smoking (tobacco), reader has scumbag friends, sad pathetic banging, intentional lowercase. (lip and reader are 18.)

word count: 3,707

authors note: this is only like my 2nd time writing smut.......

your abdomen felt cold pressed against the marble of your bathroom counter. pulling at the skin of your face, running your fingers through your messy hair, and picking yourself apart in the mirror that doubled as a medicine cabinet. you didn't feel like yourself. you swung the cabinet open, reaching for a hard candy eyeshadow pallet, a black eye pencil so old the label had rubbed off, and a mauve-brownish lip liner.

your phone buzzed against your pocket. you groaned, dropping your products into the sink before snatching it from the depths of your jeans.

773-642-3719: party @ ashleys 2night. u coming? 2:36pm.

it must've been karina. ever since you gave her your number on your break during your waitressing shift at patsy's, she'd been trying to drag you out of the house. you couldn't blame her. mopey from your breakup, picking up as many hours as possible, spending your free time collecting coupons for shopping sprees you'd never go on to spend money you didn't have, she was sick of you ruining the atmosphere everywhere you went.

or, wherever you didn't go, more accurately.

"he's just a guy. just—go fuck someone else! who cares if he's a dick just like him. focus on the task at hand: getting laid," she told you, licking strawberry jam from the tip of her middle finger.

"i'm just gonna miss him more," you sighed, watching the clock tick as your 15 minutes of what was supposed to be relaxing free time, was going to waste.

"*** ******** is not some kind of sex god, okay? the sex was good. you can find good sex anywhere."

"whatever."

he was more than that. he was more than the sex. he was the kisses in the early mornings where you'd wake up with him in your sheets. he was the whispers of 'you're so beautiful,' and 'i love you,' whenever you doubted yourself. he was the shitty jokes and late night walks, splitting cigarettes and dabbling in gossip. he was your best friend.

but he was also the hands that slammed your bedroom door. he was also the alcohol on his breath. he was also the words that told you to 'get your shit together.' he was also the broken promises he could never keep.

but he was more than anything karina saw him as.

i'll be there :) 2:38pm.

773-642-3719: bring some1 cute with u! 2:40pm.

you stared blankly at her text.

👍 2:42pm.

bring someone with me? who the hell would i bring? daniel's working tonight. and he's not cute. well—he's not ugly, but...no. stop. just drop it. you don't need to bring a guy with you. jesus. you don't need anyone. relax.

i'm here. 12:37am.

you knocked about 3 times before a lanky, raven haired boy with puke all over his title fight t-shirt swung the door open. you looked past his shoulder to see a group of familiar faces behind him.

"please tell me that's not h—" a short blonde girl groaned before a redhead, eliza, butted in.

"there she is!" she yelled, calling karina over.

the warm glow of the living room complimented the post-punk rock that rang through the poster filled walls of ashley's house. you were met with waves from your friends. karina beamed and quickly made her way over to the front door to greet you. her chunky sandals boomed against the hardwood floor, her red solo cup nearly falling out of her hand.

"you made it!" she smiled, taking your hand and dragging you into the makeshift frat house, slamming the front door behind you. the atmosphere was uncomfortably warm. probably due to everyone sweating their asses off from drunkenly dancing and grinding on each other.

"uh, yeah—i'm kinda late. sorry."

"fashionably late," she corrected you as you followed her through dozens of other girls and into the kitchen.

you analyzed the space. you knew a couple people here, either from work or highschool, since it was the summer after senior graduation, but there were plenty of girls and guys you'd never seen in your life. for the first time in months, meeting new people was sickening. immediately reaching for the bottle of tito's to help ease your mind, eliza stopped you. she furrowed her strawberry blonde eyebrows at you, shaking her head.

"uh-uh. you're the designated driver, sweetie. we can't have you drunk, too!"

your mouth gaped open in disbelief. were you seriously dragged here just to play babysitter?

"but there's plenty else to do," karina peaked her head out of the kitchen and eyeing a couple of her friends that resided on the couch, beer bottles in hand. you couldn't help but turn your head to look, too.

"mikey's got weed," she pointed to a shirtless brunette, "and i think destiny brought some—fuckin, i don't know, xanax to cool your nerves."

you nodded, lips pulled tight in a painfully neutral expression that read 'okay' and 'fuck you i hope you break every bone in your body and live your life as a spiritless vegetable,' at the same time. your arms were crossed against your chest, your body pretty much caving in at the amount of sheer embarrassment that coursed through you.

"since you're, y'know, kinda losing it," eliza wiped the corner of her mouth where whiskey-soda had been dripping from it, pointing her finger at you. her messy red nail polish on healthy long nails taunted you.

you felt like a wad of pink chewing gum: slammed between teeth and tongue just to be spit out and drenched in spit. but you weren't useless enough to be thrown away. just stuck under a table for some gross, unsanitary bitch to pick it up again and stick it right back in her gossipy mouth. cursing yourself for being here, you stormed out of the kitchen and made your way toward the back porch.

if you left, you'd be a prude. but if you stayed and drank, kissing strangers and making up stories filled with little white lies, you'd be deemed a slut for the rest of the summer. your last choice was to stick around, being that annoying girl who smoked cigarettes outside of the party to freak people out.

and so, you did. you hung around outside, watching people come in and out. occasionally, someone would stop to ask if you were alright, if you wanted a drink, or just someone to talk to. you politely declined every time. almost like you were waiting for some other opportunity to spring up in front of you.

"hey," a voice behind you rasped.

it startled you. it was painfully familiar. so much it made your heart drop to your empty stomach. you turned yourself around, eyes met with blue orbs that stared directly into you.

there he was. lip. your lip.

except he wasn't yours. not here. not now. possibly not ever.

"oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me, gallagher."

your hands grabbed onto the wooden railing of the porch steps. hoisting yourself up, you brushed off any dirt that smeared onto your dark blue jeans. your eyes were glued to the ground as you tried to swiftly move past him the moment you could stand up.

"no, c'mon—" he pleaded, rolling his eyes and following you back into the house. he hadn't had a sip of booze. for once, his mind was completely in the clear.

eliza and karina sat on the kitchen counter, their shoulders pressed together while shared a beer bottle, possibly their 6th or 7th of the night. you seriously wondered what they even talked about. they didn't have much in common other than the fact that they both liked reeking havoc on innocent people. and you.

"did one of you fucking invite him?" you spat, stepping just a foot away from the two of them snatching the beer bottle from karina's hand, you held it tightly in your fist, your fingertips turning pink at the brute force.

"lip? yeah, i did! wait, did you guys break up, or something?" eliza laughed, twirling a red curl around her finger while she gave an obnoxious wave to lip as he stood behind you. he bit the inside of his cheek, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets and balled into enraged fists.

your jaw had been nailed to the floor at this point. karina looked down at the ground in shame. she didn't care about your 'healing' or 'getting laid.' all she cared about was stirring shit. it was such a middle school stunt for a 19 year old girl to pull. finally snapping, you slammed the beer bottle onto the ground, watching it shatter into a million pieces. clenching your teeth, you looked back up to see the disturbed expressions on your 'friends' faces. they weren't allowed to make this decision for you. you would decide if and when you were ready to act like a normal fucking person around lip.

a boyfriend wasn't the only thing you lost. you lost a friend, a piece of yourself.

hot tears pricked at your waterline. you spun back around and darted towards the front door. shoving through people, your hands grabbing onto their arms and not-so-gently moving them out of your path. you could feel lip's footsteps behind you, his pathetic whines calling out for your name; calling out for his friend ex-girlfriend.

"hey, would you just fucking talk to me? please?"

you finally stopped, taking a deep breath and letting the salty tears that streamed down your face smudge your mascara before turning to face him. the angry knit of his brows from earlier was gone. his face relaxed, a breath of relief escaping his mouth when he could finally just look at you. he took in the sight of your tears, your swollen lips, your shoulders that tensed under your jacket, the way your jaw trembled when you cried.

"i don't wanna talk," you muttered as you shook your head, "i just—i don't wanna talk here. can we go upstairs, or something?"

you stared back, half of your bottom lip barred behind your teeth, analyzing every inch of him. the way his hair that ended at the middle of his ear had grown a bit too thick, the line that formed between his chin and his lower lip when he frowned, his short eyebrows, how prominent his philtrum was, and his blue eyes that caught your attention the day you met in 10th grade chemistry. you missed the way the top row of his small teeth would beam whenever he laughed.

"yeah," lip nodded, "we don't have to be down here, alright? c'mon," he reached for your hand, tilting his head as he tried to stare into you.

you worried about forgetting the feeling of his hands gently caressing your face, rubbing your back when he held you close, twirling your hair around his fingers, when his palms would indent the plush of your thighs, or when he'd grab onto your waist when you kissed him.

there was no way you'd ever forget now.

"jesus, lip—" you huffed through open-mouthed kisses, your fingertips digging into the flesh of his shoulders. the cold wall against your warm back made you shiver once he tore your shirt off from over your head, along with the jacket he zipped down and gently slipped it off from your arms as he trailed kisses from your jawline to your collarbones.

in the most needy, starved way possible, you tugged at his cotton t-shirt. almost as if he'd read your mind, despite him being on a completely different planet, he pulled away from your mouth and peeled his grey t-shirt off with the same hands that rubbed those fucking circles against your hips the way he always did when he kissed you again.

some things just never changed.

your fingertips pressed against his bare abdomen until they made their way up to his chest. you missed seeing that little triangle tattoo that tyler gave him in the school bathroom. kissing it, tracing your fingernails around the perimeter, occasionally biting and soothing the mark with your lips.

"fuck this stupid party," he scoffed, his hand getting a hold of your chin and tilting your head back up to face him. you looked into him through your lashes, lids low with desire. the look in your eyes ruined him.

"yeah. fuck it."

you glanced at his lips and back into his eyes, just for him to smash his mouth into yours again. it was a mess of teeth and tongue while you entangled your hands in his hair.

"shit—" lip detached himself from your mouth to fill his lungs with hair that smelled like your perfume and sex.

his hands cradled your face so gently it was like you'd break if he ever dared to let go. your hands moved over the groves of his arms and up to his shoulders over and over again, the feeling of soft, supple skin never getting old.

"c'mere, pretty girl," lip breathed against your ear, his hand wrapping your neck gently.

he desperately began sucking and biting the tender skin, coming back to comfort it with pecks and blows of fast, cool air. tuffs of curly blonde hair tickled your jawline every time. his veiny hands roamed down the sides of your torso, never traveling up, until you tried removing your bra yourself. lip shook his head, removing his hands from your hips and reaching behind you to unclip the uncomfortable fabric while you clung to his shoulders for support.

"lip—" you protested, slowly growing impatient.

"i got it, baby," he whispered, kissing your shoulder before carefully slipping the straps over your shoulders and off of your body. that pet name hadn't bounced off of his tongue and rang through your ears in weeks.

once he tossed the bra to the floor, your body relaxed as lip backed away just an inch or two to admire you. he smiled, teeth and all. maybe he really did miss you. your hands rested on his shoulders, slowly backing him up towards the bed of the guest room.

funny. you swore what you and lip had was more than the sex. and it was. you weren't lying about that. but my god, the crave for his skin against yours was unbearable. flashes of your hookups projected over your head. the moans that erupted from you while you tugged on his blonde curls for dear life as he pounded into your weeping cunt—you missed all of it.

"i can't believe you even showed up here," you muttered, using the pads of your fingertips to shove lip onto the soft mattress, silk sheets feeling cold against his back. he glared at you through furrowed brows, propping himself up on his elbows. but his expression softened when he saw you unbuttoning your jeans, zipping the fly down and hastily kicking them off.

"me? you—" he let out a shaky breath, gnawing at the inside of his mouth and sitting up right, "you haven't been out of the house for days."

he stared down at the white lacy underwear you wore, fighting the urge to get up and tear them down your ass until they fell at your ankles.

"and how the hell would you know that?"

you raised your eyebrows, signaling to lip to fall back again so you could reveal the aching bulge in his pants. that same bright smile of excitement made your stomach stir as you were unbuttoning and unzipping the denim that imprisoned his cock.

"been spyin' on you a little bit," he joked, but he wasn't totally kidding. for the past week and a half, he'd been taking 'shortcuts' to get to any destination just so he could briefly stop in front of your place. just to see if you'd ever come out and coincidentally run into him. he even started going to your usual hangout spots to see if you'd turn up.

but you never did. him even going to this party was solely based on the off chance that you might've been here. possibly with a new guy. but you weren't. you were alone. just like he often was.

"how sweet," you teased, tracing the tattoo on his chest. caving into your urges, you tilted your head lower to pet it with a kiss, your eyes closed before trailing your lips back up to his own. he huffed through his nose, laughing at your gesture. it was cute. you were cute. lips hands moved down to your hips, his fingers slipping underneath the waist band of your panties. that little puddle of arousal shining through the white fabric of your thong only egged lip on. he looked into your eyes for permission, not wasting any time to help you remove them the moment you nodded your head.

letting him pull them down the plush of your thighs, you turned just enough where you could slip them past your calf's where they pooled at your feet before finally slipping off onto the floor. a delicate hand reached to pull down the fabric of his boxers, his leaking, pink tip practically making you drool the moment his cock sprung out. the heat and humidity of the room making the thick vein down the side of his length twitch just the slightest. you felt a yearning heat build up in your core as you wiggled your hips closer.

"now," you reached between your thighs to coil your fingers round lip's hardening cock, "i need you to fuck me like you haven't gotten laid in a thousand years."

"that's pretty much what it's felt like." lip mumbled so quietly you barely caught it. he looked up at you, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before he used his thumb to caress your cheek.

"wait, you—you haven't been with anyone else?"

lip paused, realizing he admitted to not seeing a single other person since you broke up. it almost surprised you that you weren't the only one who was sex deprived.

"fuck would that do? bring you back?" he tried to laugh, accidentally gasping at the feeling of your wet cunt brushing past his throbbing dick. you noticed this, smiling back at him and slowly trying to position yourself perfectly.

"well, you have me now."

those words were all it took. with one swift motion, lip finally caught a grip on the fat of your hips, guiding you gently down his cock, your wetness making a makeshift lubricant.

"always so fuckin' wet for me," lip praised, smiling at the sight of how easily he filled you up to the brim of your cervix. watching your face contort from slight discomfort and into full bliss was his fucking kryptonite. you gasped, the immediate stuffed feeling hitting your stomach. lip winced at the tight sensation, already cursing under his raspy breath and whispering incoherent praises. "so—so fuckin' tigh...fu–ck" you gave him some time to adjust, propping your hands behind you so you could grind against him just right.

lip began rolling your hips back and forth, wet sounds of sex filling up the room. whimpers of "fuck, yes lip," and "just like that," only made his sexual frustration worse.

"'missed you so fuckin' much, baby. shit—you make me feel amazing. so, so fuckin' good." his hands dig deeper into your hips, making their way to your ass to squeeze and occasionally slap the flesh. you flinched with a moan, his dick hitting your gummy walls at a slightly different angle each time.

"m—fuck, missed you too, lip. you have no idea," your lungs begged for air, your tits bouncing slightly at the constant movement of your hips as you chased your high. you looked down at him, tears of arousal filling up your hooded eyes. lip marveled at the sight of your pleasure, inching closer and closer to cumming inside of you right then and there—but he had to savor this. grunting

how could he have waited this long to make amends with you? his groans felt like they practically echoed and bounced off of the walls. he needed to focus on your needs tonight. he pried between your crotchets, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing sloppy, rough circles against the bundle of nerves.

"slower, hun," you cooed, moving up and down his cock to keep his tip pounding right into your g-spot every time. the idea of staying quiet had never been this hard—but the music and shouting from downstairs was bound to cover for the two of you. lip nodded his head, slowing down his pace and gently grinding his hips into yours as his thumb remained at work.

after the few moments of pure bliss, moans and cries of lip's name coming from you that he wished would last an eternity, he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. similarly, you started forcefully catching your breath as you stared up at the ceiling. your head went foggy, every word that fell out of your mouth turning into messy gibberish. lip could tell you were close, but he wasn't quite ready to give up.

"i don't think i'm gonna last any longer," lip clenched his teeth, his hand aching from prioritizing your pleasure while his thrusts became sloppier and sloppier. he'd been fucked out without even finishing a single time.

"me neither—"

desperately trying to get a hold of yourself, your body gave out. your thighs began to shake, your cunt contracting. trying to muffle your shrieks, you cupped a hand over your saliva-slick mouth. your hips moved as fast as you could ever dreamed was possible, forcing you to grab onto lip's shoulder blades for support. lip could literally see his dick rolling up and down your stomach as he moaned your name, his eyes screwed shut. finally, just at the very last second, he took every bit of strength left in his body to flip you over, your back pressed against the sheets while you reached your climax. he pulled out with a groan, white ropes of sticky cum coating your lower stomach and the space right under your tits.

makeup sex was not how you envisioned this night would go. but how could you complain?

#lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher #lip gallagher x reader smut #oh my god he's so hot i cant #makeup sex trope #i need him biblically #lip gallagher x you #proud lip gallagher apologist #my man my man my man #hope y'all enjoy #idk what this is tbh

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wisteriagoesvroom · 11 months ago

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moodboard for @jusst-you-race's chatfic because it is hYSTERICAL and you should all read it

the condominium community - 2:36pm

Oscar and Logan have been added to the chat

George Hello, welcome to a group chat we have for the Formula apartment building! There are only 18 (20 now) of us so we like to keep in contact about the building maintenance and other neighbourly orders of business. I’m George, and I liaise with the building manager on behalf of all of us when there is a building specific issue rather than an apartment issue. Welcome to the building!

Lando do u copy and paste that from ur notes every time

Alex I bet he has it memorised

read on ao3

#landoscar #fanfic rec #f1 fic rec #lestappen #f1 rpf #seriously i got to read ch1 and like died laughing #it's rare a fic makes me literally el oh el and this is absolutely the ticket #u will not believe how many attempts it took me to spell condomiunium.#<- and I still spelled it wrong wow #wiz.mbs

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durrtydawg · 2 months ago

Text

The Sadir Inheritance

{Sam Drake x F!Reader} Chapter 11 | 'How the hell do we explain this?'

alright so you might have to re-read c10 to get the gist, but here's their phone call from his perspective... and of course the aftermath. please mind any errors, grammatical or sensical. I'm sure i'll amend soon. mwah x

masterlist ✨

Other chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Just when Sam thought crossed wires would be the worst of his problems...

CW: blood, vomit, & graphic injury mention, general cringe

Word count: 4.4k-ish x

The British Library’s reading room isn’t exactly an arc-hive of chaos. If anything, it’s the opposite. The kind of quiet that makes one’s own breathing feel obnoxious. Just the occasional paper rustle, the pesky buzz of outdated fluorescents, and someone clearing their throat at oddly even intervals.

Sam leans back in a particularly creaky chair, one arm slung over the top of it, squinting at the screen in front of him as though it’s offended him. It flickers softly, whirring as he turns the dial, dusty even though he’s already wiped it down twice.

Bzzz.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, breaking the hush.

Sam fumbles it out, thumb clumsy on the screen. He stabs at the green button.

“Yeah?”

“Alright, Sammy?” Scott’s voice is chipper, plastering on a high-pitched exaggerated London accent. He snorts. Alongside his mockery of their companion, he hears a rhythmic thrum of what he presumes is car tyres on tarmac. “How’s the exciting world of yellowed paper and copyright law?”

Sam huffs through a grin. “Screw off.”

Scott laughs. “Hey, I did my time. Only fair you got your hands on the boring stuff for a day.”

“Been here four hours. I think my corneas have dried out.” He glances down at his coffee, tilting the cup towards his lips. Lukewarm. Fantastic. “Did you find anything today?”

“Maybe.” A rustle of paper on Scott’s end. “Got some papers… hard to tell what’s useful and what’s some aristocrat’s creative writing project, but I’m hoping it’s… something. There’s a weird little necklace thing in the mix too - worn engravings, yada yada. Looks old. Could be junk, but...” He pauses, clicking his tongue as if he’s pulling a load of thoughts together. “I figured we could take a look when we both get to the site. Should be another twenty, twenty-five minutes.”

Sam sighs, pulling his phone away from his face to check the time. 8:36pm.�� And he’s nowhere near done here. He pushes aside the slight discomfort he feels towards the fact that the phone understands the concept of eye contact, and tucks it back between his ear and shoulder.

“I’m stuck here for a while. Still waitin’ on the marriage records pull-” Sam glances up, scanning the stacks for the nervous wreck of what he presumes is an intern he’d flagged down earlier. No sign of her. “Think I've been abandoned.”

Scott makes a sympathetic noise. “Shame.” There’s a pause before he clears his throat. “Well… you reckon Little Miss Sunshine could swing by instead?”

Sam goes still, the corner of his mouth twitching. He can’t tell if the nickname irritates him or not. He exhales, wry. “Your idea of a date night or somethin’?”

Scott chuckles under his breath. “What’s the matter? You gonna get all jealous if she rides shotgun with me instead of you?”

Sam twists his tongue into his molar, inexplicably miffed. “Funny.”

Scott laughs. “I just need a second pair of eyes, is all.”

Sam scrubs a hand over his mouth, masking a reluctant grin. “Yeah. Yeah, alright.”

Scott continues, “Sweet. I’ll give her a ring, then.”

Sam straightens, hand tightening instinctively around the phone. It would be easier to let Scott handle it. Certainly, more logical. But the thought of Scott calling her, of his voice sliding easily into that teasing charm, of her laughing at something he says-

“I’ll call her,” Sam says, sharper than intended.

A beat.

“You sure?”

“Might as well. She trusts me more than you, anyway.”

Scott snorts. “Charm’s wasted on you, Drake.”

“Can’t all be blessed,” Sam deadpans.

“Let me know what she says.”

Sam hangs up with a quick hum of acknowledgment before Scott can say anything else, staring down at the phone now cradled in his palm.

He throws a glance around, casual-like, then fumbles with it. Screen’s too bright, for starters. He squints, jabs at it wrong once, then manages to scroll. His thumb hovers over her name. Then he backs out, checks the lock screen, and stares into space.

Screw it.

Pull yourself together.

He hits call and brings the phone to his ear.

The hell’s he even going to open with?

He thinks back to the tight-lipped librarian at the counter when he first arrived, and the pointed sign by the entrance: Reading Room materials may not be removed from the premises. The side-eye he got when he asked if they could make an exception. The stack of dusty registers now waiting for him at the desk because the digitised records ‘weren’t comprehensive’ or some such bullshit.

There's a click - the beeping stops - a faint rustle. He winces as he rifles through lines in his head.

Eureka.

“Did you know the British Library doesn’t actually let you check out books?” Nice and casual. But topical all the same.

Her voice crackles back through the line: “Every day's a school day, Samuel”, and something in his chest loosens. Still got it. He replies with his regular confidence.

She snorts. He loves that sound. It punches a laugh outta him, too loud for the sacred hush of the room and, in turn, the people in it.

Some guy in his peripheral shoots him a look.

With a smile, Sam mimics zipping his mouth shut. Classic. The British. Eternally pissed off by ya, but too polite to actually say anything about it. Highly skilled at simmering and casting judgment in absolute silence.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Gamble number one.

“Eh.” He shrugs like she can see it, lowering his volume to appease his new buddy. “Just wanted to hear your voice.”

There’s a beat. He suddenly becomes hyper aware of how close the guy at the next desk is. Oh dear. She didn’t like that, did she?

But then: “Oh yeah?”- light, a little scoff in it - and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, grin sliding back in place like it never left in the first place.

“Yeah.”

“Sweet-talker.”

“Guilty.”

Oh-kay, gamble number two, then.

Keep it ‘cheeky’ - she likes using that word, doesn’t she? Keep the mood up. Don’t scare her off with... whatever the hell this thing is clawing at his ribs.

He hears her driving - the shfffffff of tires over asphalt. He hears her smile, too. And when she asks about his week, he slips into gear without thinking.

“If I see one more oil painting of some smug bastard with mutton chops, I’m gonna start growin’ 'em in my sleep.”

She laughs. A full on, belly-laugh. He feels it deep, but doesn’t know what to do with it.

He ducks his head, like that’s gonna stop the grin creeping in, pressing the phone a little closer to his ear, and picking up the scratchy old biro from the desk - something to do with his hands. Suddenly, he feels like he’s twenty-five again, loitering by a payphone, thumbing around for a quarter before the line goes dead.

They volley words. Regular rhythm. Somewhere in the middle of the back-and-forth, he slides in the request, asking if she can help Scott out. Keeps it breezy. Just ticking a box.

That’s gamble number three. Let’s see if she bites.

She does. But not how he expects.

There’s a pause - just a breath too long. Like she was elsewhere and had to yank herself back.

And that’s the thing. Lately, she has been elsewhere. Not just the last ten days - before that, too. Zoned out. Cagey in a way that doesn’t sit right. Like she’s wrapped herself in nettles. And when he or Scott get too close, she dodges, deflects, and treats their concern like it’s some radioactive thing she can’t risk touching.

He doesn’t like it. Doesn’t like the guessing game. The brittle edge to her voice when they push a little too far. But he’s not about to strong-arm it. That’s not the game.

What was it that she threw at him back in Jordan? Babysitting. That's it. Too protective. Too… close. Couldn’t give her room to breathe-

Hang on - Jesus, what’s with the over analysing, here?

This isn't… He’s not the guy who spirals over a phone call. He’s the guy with the exit strategy, the backup plan, and the one-liner on standby. Samuel flirts like he breathes. Samuel always knows the angle. Samuel doesn’t get... weird about stuff.

That’s the bit right? The roguish charm. Flash the grin. Crack the joke. Keep it moving.

He shakes it off, takes a gulp of his coffee, and it's - eurgh - cold, chalky, awful - spits it right back into the cup with a wince. Silver lining: at least it snapped him out of whatever whirlpool his thoughts were spinning into.

She says something snarky, all teeth and sass, and it pulls a smile from him before he can stop it.

Time to wrap this up.

“You goin’ or what?” he says, aiming for laid-back, tossing the words like they mean nothing.

“Of course I’m going.”

He twirls the pen between his fingers, lets it tap against the desk in a lazy rhythm. Not overthinking it. Not digging. Just riding the hum of her voice and the grin he can hear but can’t see.

Maybe that's why it slips out:

“Atta girl.”

He knows it’s trouble.

Not bad trouble, necessarily. Just the kind that makes your throat feel tight and your heartbeat a little irregular.

He didn’t mean for it to sound like that.

Or maybe he did.

There’s a hitch of silence. Not long. Barely a breath. But enough that Sam feels uncomfortable.

The pen stops dead between his fingers, and he leaves it hanging there, waiting.

For her to… snort, maybe? Or to tease him, the way others would’ve. The way he’s used to.

A smartass remark. A little flustered giggle. Some sort of acknowledgement.

Instead, the dvvvvt-screeeeee of the wipers and a brusque shift to: “Scott’s already there?”

Right. Okay.

Guess he misread the room.

Sam leans back in his chair, huffing out a slow breath through his nose as his jaw tightens just a tad. He’s mildly annoyed. yep. At himself, mostly. At her, maybe a little. At how easily the shift unsettles him. The pen stills in his hand, caught between fingers that suddenly feel clumsy.

He rustles through his notes loud enough that maybe she’ll hear it and know he’s busy, That he’s not sitting here overthinking. “Yeah. Pokin' around.” Why the hell is he - he - overthinking? “I’ll get him to send you the details.”

“Sounds good.”

Short. Sweet. Relatively professional. Hm. He chews his lip.

Sam rubs a hand across his mouth, trying to swallow down the sour taste rising in the back of his throat. What the hell was he expecting, anyway? Pathetic. Christ. Get a grip.

Another pause. Longer this time.

He almost hangs up. Almost says ‘Alright, catch ya later, kid,’ like he doesn’t feel akin to a deflated balloon. Like it doesn't sting a little.

Instead-

“Hey,” he hears himself say.

It sounds rougher than he meant it to.

She hesitates. Of course she does. “…Yes?”

His jaw ticks. He rolls the pen across the table and lets it clatter to the floor.

"Be careful, alright?"

Stupid. Dumb. Amateur-hour bullshit. She doesn't need him hovering. And make sure you look both ways before you cross the road, dear!

There’s another stretch of quiet on the other end that needles him raw.

He shouldn't have said it. Should'a kept his mouth shut, kept it light, kept it cool, kept it Samuel.

When her voice comes back, it’s polite. Clipped. Like a pat on the head.

“I’ll be fine.”

“…Yeah,” he mutters. “I know.”

Another awful moment, nothing.

Is he being dramatic? He’s… he's being dramatic.

“Alright,” he says, forcing nonchalance. “Go forth, kick some doors down. I’ll tell Scott to give you a buzz.”

She lets out a breath. Probably glad to be getting off the phone.

“Thanks, Sam.”

He smiles like it doesn’t feel a little… itchy.

“Yeah.”

He ends the call before he can embarrass himself any further.

The phone hits the desk with a clatter. He slumps back, scrubs both hands over his face, and stares up at the ceiling like maybe its slightly-yellow-round-the-edges water stains will morph into answers.

A throat clears softly nearby.

He glances over to see the nervous intern from earlier - the one he’d practically begged to double-check the archive - holding a grey box like she’s afraid Sam might bite her if she lowers it any further. He raises his brows expectantly.

“Found this,” she mutters, setting it down with a clumsy thud. “From the overflow. No digital record. Couldn’t see it on the inventory list. Sorry.”

“Perfect,” Sam grunts, already reaching for the box. "Thanks."

The kid skitters off with a curt nod, probably thrilled to be rid of him. He can't blame her. If he had to be stuck down here, day in, day out, pleasantries would be the last thing on his mind.

He cracks the lid open. Paper and dust hit him in the face. Great. Manual search it is.

Forty-five minutes and one eye-watering sneeze later, he’s popped a new reel into the microfiche reader. It clicks through slowly, the whirring wheel sounding ten times louder in the quiet than it probably is.

He’s on the verge of giving up, already mentally drafting the text to Scott that says 'Found sweet fuck-all, might’ve inhaled a Victorian disease…' - when something flickers past.

He scrolls back. Slower this time.

Sussex County Records. 1892.

Marriage Registry:

Campbell, Esq. William Charles

Sam stills.

Then leans forward, squinting at a crossed out set of Arabic characters.

ماي بشار

His heart gives a slow, hard thud.

Next to it, in a slightly fainter, more careful hand:

Bashar, Mai

He rifles through his own notes - creases, scribbles, loose sheets tucked into the back of a notebook - until he finds what he's looking for.

Layla Bashar.

Mai. Mai Bashar.

So the surname tracks. Could be a stretch… but if this Mai was Layla’s daughter, then she might also be Emaan’s.

A Sadir, married to Campbell.

The potential link between William and Emaan. It's too much of a coincidence to ignore.

He stares at the document for a moment longer than necessary, just to be sure.

Has he just single handedly solved the case of Emaan’s mystery child? Now that... that might be worth the tedium.

An hour later and they’re closing up. He’s scanned what he can, jotted the rest down in his notebook, taken the odd prohibited photo, and given the intern at the front desk a tired thumbs-up on the way out.

Rain’s coming down in an irritating, indecisive drizzle - fine and misty but just heavy enough to soak your shoulders if you stand still too long.

He ducks under the narrow awning outside the station, flicks his lighter once, twice, then sparks a smoke to kill a few minutes before his train.

Bzzz.

She's sent him a picture of the exact sort of portrait he was complaining about earlier, and a remark to match.

He huffs a laugh through his nose, takes a drag, and squints at the screen.

One-handed replies are a nightmare. He doesn’t even bother trying. Just taps out two emojis instead:

Me :👴🏼❌

He hovers on the message, then debates texting her about the registry. The name. The potential link.

But... nah. Better to tell them both in person. Have his moment. Two birds. One dramatic reveal.

Fuck it.

He drops the cigarette, grinds it out with his boot, kicks it into the gutter and starts towards the entrance, thumb clumsily tapping out one more line as he pushes through the glass doors:

Me: Did I use those correctly?

He’s grinning to himself as he boards the near-empty train, collapsing into the window seat with all the grace of a man who’s been hunched over dusty reels and papers for nigh-on five hours. The carriage rocks gently as it pulls away from the platform, the overhead lights humming in time with the rain against the glass.

As the city fades into more rural surroundings, his phone buzzes again. This time, with an incoming call from her.

***

You wake like something’s grabbed you by the scruff of the neck and smacked your head against the floor. No slow drift back to consciousness - just thwack.

You’re face-down on. Head pounding behind your eyes like someone’s taken a blunt axe to between your brows.

You blink hard. Once. Twice. Through a ringing, static haze that won’t quite go away. God, your head is pounding. The air reeks of iron and sweat and rotting wood. You dry heave.

With a shift, your cheek peels from the floor. Something cracks in your neck, and your fingers twitch. Your knees drag against splintered wood - your entire body feels like it’s just run a marathon. Your hands are wet. Covered in sticky viscosity.

Every muscle aches. Your mouth tastes foul, something metallic, crusted thick around your lips and chin.

Blood.

Except it’s not just dried on your face. It’s everywhere.

Your eyes finally begin to re-adjust to the moonlight filtering through the boarded window. Your palms have been planted in it. Your sleeves are saturated. It coats your fingers, crusted under your nails, mottled and tacky on your wrists.

Oh God - There’s a body beside you - a man. Face down, Still. A dark puddle beneath his skull that’s spread across the floor and pooled beneath you. His head’s twisted at an unnatural angle. You can’t see his face. A saving grace, perhaps.

It’s… it’s the one that was on top of you before everything went black.

You recoil, scrambling up to your elbows and rolling onto your back with a strangled gasp. Your stomach pitches, heart slamming against your ribs - this - this blood isn’t all yours.

You don’t remember-

How long has it been?

You turn frantically and - Scott.

He’s here.

Standing over the man, facing away from you.

His hands are bloodied, too. One hovering over his mouth, the other hanging by his side, both shaking. He’s breathing hard, shoulders rising with each inhale like he might throw up, eyes locked on the man. Like he’s waiting for him to twitch.

You try to speak. His name comes out hoarse.

His head jerks towards you, eyes wide.

For a second, he looks just as confused as you feel.

“Jesus,” he breathes roughly, stumbling a half-step backwards, “You’re- you’re awake.”

You push yourself upright too fast and the room spins. You land flat on your ass, knuckles smacking against the floor.

Knuckles?

Something’s clutched in your right hand - it’s sharp, digging into your palm. Your skin is sore - the whole thing feels like it’s been balled up tight enough to crack - you didn’t even notice.

You bring the hand up, letting the thin stream of moonlight streaking into the room illuminate it - a thin chain is tangled around your fingers - you unclench your fist, the small pendant of a necklace now dangling from your palm, blood-covered and trembling violently along with you.

You swallow thickly - your throat feels tight and dry, like you could choke on nothing.

You look at Scott.

You look back at your hands.

You look at the man on the floor.

All while starting to hyperventilate.

“I don’t- didn’t-” you whisper, voice cracking, hands shaking so violently you nearly drop the locket. You swallow again in a desperate, but ultimately fruitless attempt at grounding yourself.. “Scott- what happened?”

He doesn’t answer. He just continues to stare down at the body, like he’s only just registering it all.

Your eyes dart to the necklace still dangling from your palm. The chain is looped around your fingers. Any tighter and it'd be cutting off your circulation. You have no idea when you grabbed it, or how long it’s been there.

But something in you refuses to let go.

Scott had it before. That much you remember. What is it that guy - the - HA - the dead guy lying on the floor said? ‘Took this from your buddy over there’... or something similar. Which means you’re not giving it up now.

You look back at the body.

Back at the blood smeared across your arms.

Back at Scott - red-knuckled and wide-eyed - as he slowly turns himself to face you fully.

There’s something fraying at the edges of his composure - panic, disbelief, pain. His face is streaked with blood, a shallow cut beneath one eye still weeping. His jaw is clenched hard enough to tremble, doing very little to help the gash on his lip. You can see how stiffly he’s holding himself now - like his ribs ache every time he breathes. He’s probably almost as disoriented as you.

“I-" he sputters, his voice cracking, eyes flitting over the ceramic shards littering the floor around you all. A vase, you think.

After clearing his throat, he continues, “I didn’t mean to hit him that hard.” His brows pinch inward as he speaks, like he’s trying to convince himself just as much as you. His eyes flick down to your bloodied arms, then jerk away, back to the body. “I woke up and… he was on top of you. I didn’t know if- if he’d hurt you or-”

You follow his eyes to a gash in the back of the man’s head. His hair is matted thick with blood and bits of….

Your stomach flips.

You reel sideways, crawling backwards in a blind scramble until your back hits the wall and before you can control it, you retch, bitter bile burning its way up your throat, landing onto the floorboards. You choke on an acidic sob and he finally moves.

Scott steps towards you. Bloodied hand running through his hair, shaking.

You shake your head, unable to process it all. It hits the wall as you slump back, breath hitching, silent tears tracking down your cheeks. They sting as you wipe your mouth on your shoulder, crusted blood peeling off of your skin.

Scott draws in a deep, shaky breath, visibly trying to pull himself together. He wipes his own face with the heel of his hand, smearing sweat and blood into a tired blur across his cheek as he swears under his breath.

“What- what do we do?” you whisper through sporadic pants.

He glances back toward the body. You do too, briefly, and your stomach twists all over again at the sight.

“We leave,” Scott says, the words clipped, like he’s already made the decision and just needs you to agree.

“What?” Your voice cracks with disbelief. “We- we can’t just leave- he’s fucking dead.”

“He’s not dead,” Scott cuts in sharply, and for a second his composure wavers again, voice cracking in denial. “I think. I don’t know. But we can’t stay.”

You shake your head, wiping your eyes with your sleeve, forgetting how sodden it is. “We have to call someone - an ambulance - or - or, the police-”

“No,” Scott says, firmer now, making you flinch. He pushes himself down to your level with a wince, bracing a hand on the wall. “No CCTV here. No one saw us come in. This place is secluded as hell, we don’t even know who he is. We’re trespassing. If we call someone now, we open up a whole can of shit we can’t afford.”

“You can’t be serious,” you whisper, shrinking back from the hardness in his voice. “We leave him? Just- pretend this didn’t happen? What… what about the other guy? What if he’s coming back?”

Scott exhales shakily, grimacing.

“Then we make sure we’re gone before he does. Whoever they were, they weren’t here for a friendly chat. If we stick around, we’re putting ourselves in their hands. And you…” He trails off, eyes flicking to your bloodied clothes, your shaking hands. “We don't have time for that.”

You don’t answer. You can’t answer. Your pulse is still thrumming in your ears, your limbs numb, throat closed tight.

He lowers his voice again, gentler this time. “Please. Let’s just go. Get cleaned up.”

He extends a hand out to help you up.

You pause, glancing down at your hand, still shaking - the necklace’s chain still looped tight around your fingers like you’ve been clinging onto it for dear life. You hesitate, then hold it out toward Scott, your voice wrung out.

“This is yours.”

He looks at it, frowning for a moment before he looks back at you. “Keep it,” he says, quieter now. “We’ll take a proper look once we’ve got our heads screwed on.”

You nod, reluctant, not sure you even want to hold it anymore, but not trusting yourself to let go either, as you allow him to pull you to your feet. You wipe your fingers on the edge of your sleeve and look around, searching shakily for your bag.

It takes a second to register what’s missing.

“My notebook…” Your voice falters, eyes scanning the dark room again in a blind, rising panic. “It’s gone.”

Your heart kicks hard in your chest. You push away from the wall too quickly, the room pitching as you turn in a frantic circle, hands shaking. “No- no, it was right there - in my bag-”

Scott’s expression hardens, voice going flat. “Cunt took the fucking ledger, too.”

You swallow down a noise that might be a sob, the room closing in. Your breath comes fast and shallow. You press a trembling hand to your mouth and stare down at the bloody mess on the floor, the open, repulsive, mushy mess splurging out from the skull just inches from where you’d been lying.

Just like that, a second wave crashes over you.

“Oh God,” you whisper, staggering back a step. “Oh God - oh fuck, I-”

And then-

A sound from the hall.

A bash, then a creak of a floorboard. Footsteps.

Scott straightens instinctively, posture tight as your eyes widen. He shifts in front of you without thinking, arm half-extended as if to keep you behind him. You both freeze. Your breath catches on an involuntary hiccup.

Then a voice- your names, loud, from just down the corridor.

Sam.

Scott's shoulders drop but he shoots you a quick look still - wide-eyed, breath tight - as if to say how the hell do we explain this?

And then he's there too, bursting through the doorway you'd tried to escape from, chest heaving, your phone clutched in his hand.

His eyes take in everything at once- your wild, teary expression, Scott’s bloodied knuckles, the corpse on the floor.

As he does so, his face changes - contorting in slow, dawning horror.

“...Jesus Christ.”

____

please trust me when i say: this will all make sense <3

#sam drake #samuel drake #uncharted #sam drake x reader #samuel drake x reader #tsi

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gyupinkys · 2 years ago

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SVT- mafia series

SVT mafia au one shots.

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

Seungcheol is not a nice man. How could he be? To run a mafia you need to be ruthless and you are no exception to that behavior. No matter how many times he fucks you and tells you he owns you, he will never mean it. Thats until he see's you being a little to friendly with Shownu.

POUT SOME MORE

CRY SOME MORE- pout some more pt.2

YOON JEONGHAN

You were assigned this case and expected to succeed. 7 years working as a detective gives you experience like no other. So what happens when Jeonghan figures you out? Offers you an ultimatum, help him out or he rats you out.

ONLY ANGEL

THE DEVIL-only angel pt.2

HONG JISOO

People need to stop telling Joshua he's crazy. You just make him do crazy things. Like stealing one of Seungcheol's helicopters to break you out of jail, but what was he supposed to do? Leave you in there to die? He could never let his love be out of his hands for too long.

MR.J

WEN JUNHUI

Jun hates lying. He especially hates lying to you. When you two were 7 you promised to never lie to each other, but here Jun is 20 years later lying to you. If you find out what he does you'll hate him... but Jun doesn't want to lose his first and only love best friend.

coming soon..

KWON SOONYOUNG

Soonyoung doesn't play around when it comes to his girl. Despite you being able to fend for yourself, he can't help but worry when you turn up missing. You on the other hand, you're having the time of your life putting a bratty Soobin and his friends in their place.

USE YOU

JEON WONWOO

Wonwoo is a bad man. You're the good girl. So he doesn't understand why he wants you so bad. He wants to own you, keep you as his to fuck, to love, to worship. Tonight is the night he'll finally take you away.

MINE

LEE JIHOON

Jihoon was never one for relationships. His stoic behavior tends to bore the ladies, but he's had is fair share of flings. However, when some low life hacker tries to access his files; he cant help but look into you more, and some more, and a little more until he becomes obsessed. Jihoon makes it his mission to find you.

FOUND YOU

LEE SEOKMIN

"DK, I know you're trying to kill me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

AMANDA?

KIM MINGYU

Mingyu didn't know a little lady like you could put up such a fight, then again, who would willingly get kidnapped? For the week they have you in the warehouse basement you never shut up and you're driving him insane. Insane enough to accidentally let you go, and accidentally go to your house, and accidentally let you do all the nasty things you promised to do to him.

BOSS YOU AROUND

XU MINGHAO

Minghao is hiding something from you.

You're hiding something from Minghao.

APRIL 6TH, 3:36PM

BOO SEUNGKWAN

Seungkwan's got jokes for days. But whenever you're around he gets tongue tied. You're just so pretty and your hair is so nice and you smell so good and your smile is so bright and you never say hi to him which makes him want you more and- ok he's rambling.

BOO BEAR

CHWE HANSOL

Vernon's a regular at your cafe. All he does is order a large chocolate milk and pretend he's not staring at you. So when four scary looking men walk into your cafe asking about vernon, you dive head first into a life you didn't ask for.

coming soon...

LEE CHAN

You fucking hate Chan. What kind of bullshit name is "Dino". It's like every time you think you've escaped him he's right behind you. You've gotten so used to him constantly bothering you, when he's finally gone you feel incomplete. And to make matters worse he reappears with a girlfriend, a very pregnant girlfriend.

Coming soon...

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haveyoureadthisfanfic · 3 months ago

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Summary: the condominium community - 2:36pm Oscar and Logan have been added to the chat George Hello, welcome to a group chat we have for the Formula apartment building! There are only 18 (20 now) of us so we like to keep in contact about the building maintenance and other neighbourly orders of business. I’m George, and I liaise with the building manager on behalf of all of us when there is a building specific issue rather than an apartment issue. Welcome to the building! Lando do u copy and paste that from ur notes every time Alex I bet he has it memorised ~ or, the ridiculous chat fic where the f1 grid all live in the same apartment building

Author: @jusst-you-wait

Note from submitter: it's unfinished but still going!! i adore this and i read it far too quickly because now i have to wait T-T

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orchidyoonkook · 2 years ago

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To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 5

Title: Shocking Announcements and Camouflaged Explanations

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: I'm sorry the prince is dating WHO?

Warnings: PG16, swearing, drinking, pining, angsssttttttttt, Jk has a lot of feelings, and so does Reader. Yuri being Yuri. Adaline being Adaline. TOUCH of fluff.

Word Count: 6,006

Release Date: October 20, 2023, 2:00PM

A/N 1: brain mush. finally out. Thank you for understanding. Already working on 6.

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

It’s 2:30pm on the Wednesday before fall reading week.

Saturday’s looking so beautiful. Sunny skies and comfortable temperatures.

It’s 2:30pm on the Wednesday before the Friday you get to see Nel for the first time since August.

And by god you can’t wait. You’re counting the days, minutes and seconds till he’s in front of you again.

But it’s also 2:30pm on the Wednesday after you mysteriously woke up in your bed after movie night. And that thought alone has been in the back of your mind since you opened your eyes Monday morning.

You’d thought about asking Jungkook what happened, but also didn’t think you could face the mortification if his answer was the one you almost 100% knew it was going to be. Hell, you could already feel the nose dive your stomach would make towards pavement the second you got confirmation.

So instead, like any other rational person, you shelved it away in the back corner of your brain. Far, far back, hopefully being covered with dirt and cobwebs and lint as the days pass on.

Though you have a nagging feeling that someone or something keeps dusting—anyways, there are much more important things to be focusing on.

Currently at the greenhouse cafe, you’re sipping on hot chocolate and painting this week's florals on a canvas almost half the size of you. Perched onto an easel, a bunch of sunflowers is beginning to take shape when your phone dings so many times you're worried someone’s dead.

Dropping your brush, you scoop it up from its place on the edge of the table, only to see a series of texts from Yuri, and you loose a worried breath.

Her contact name is the same from when you two went to a party the first night of freshman year. While you were sipping from your first and only drink that night, Yuri was sloshed out her mind and slurring her words. And thus, SlurryYuri was born.

She whines every time she sees you still haven’t changed it. You were never going to, of course.

SlurryYuri [2:32pm]: BITCH

Oh, here we go.

SlurryYuri [2:33pm]: YOU WILL NEVER GUESS WHO WENT SOCIAL MEDIA OFFICIAL TODAY SlurryYuri [2:33pm]: BABE ANSWER SlurryYuri [2:33pm]: ANSWER ANSWER ANSWERRRRR SlurryYuri [2:34pm]: YNNNNNNNN

You [2:34pm]: Take a breath why dont you

SlurryYuri [2:34pm]: FINALLY. SlurryYuri [2:34pm]: By the gods YN… SlurryYuri [2:35pm]: ANYWAY SlurryYuri [2:35pm]: JUNGKOOK SlurryYuri [2:35pm]: as in PRINCE Jungkook SlurryYuri [2:36pm]: is dating ADALINE. SlurryYuri [2:36pm]: as in #1 ENEMY OF THE STATE EVIL BITCH ADALINE.

You spit out what was left of the hot chocolate in your mouth.

Thankfully, you had some of your mind about you and managed not to ruin your painting by turning your head…couldn’t say the same for the cafe wall though. Rustic brick now splattered with a lovely, Pollock-esque spray of brown.

Oops.

But Jungkook and…Adaline? That doesn’t make any sense whatsoever.

He hasn’t mentioned anything about this to you. You speak to him every day, see him almost every day, and nothing? Not a peep? A morsel? A hint? Nothing?

Maybe you two aren’t as close as you thought you were.

To be fair, you didn’t tell him about Nel. And now that you think about it, you haven’t seen or heard much from Jungkook since Sunday, which is unusual. He’s normally stuffing your inbox full of messages as the sun rises and sets, yet he’s sent maybe two a day since then.

You thought he was just busy with schoolwork.

Spiraling, you can’t help but wonder how long they’ve been seeing one another. How long he’s kept this little secret—not that it’s any of your business anyway, but he’s always seemed so open with you, with just about everything. So the fact that he kept this from you? What does that say?

Does he think you’d react like any other girl? That you would scream and cry and mourn and tell him he’s making a mistake, that you’re his true love? Like Adaline would if he weren’t dating her?

As if! And he knows that.

He knows that…right?

Doesn’t matter. Yes it does. No it doesn’t.

Ugh! Whatever!

Does he even know who Adaline really is? Or does she put on a mask in front of him too, like she does everyone else. She must because now you wonder how he could even possibly like someone like her, knowing…well her!

Bitchiness and duchess-ness aside, you and Adaline are incredibly similar, and Jungkook has never had any interest in you whatsoever, thank god. You and Adaline are both fine arts majors, both top of your class, talented, driven. You both work tirelessly for what you want, and don’t let others get in your way to success. Though only one of you will cheat if you have too, morals be damned. You both want your lives to yourself, to make your own path, to be trailblazers in your chosen fields.

That kind of woman doesn’t seem like Jungkook's type.

He needs someone who will follow him, and allow him to lead the nation. Someone who is okay submitting to him and his needs for the good of the people and the betterment of the Western Shores. He needs a politically inclined cheerleader, for lack of better phrasing. And that isn’t Adaline at all…or you, if you're still putting yourself in this conversation, which you’re not.

Also, wasn’t it a rule that princes could only marry princesses? Or was it that nice, genuine people shouldn’t end up with assholes who use and abuse those around them for social status and power? And isn’t that a thing for him too—that he hates when people use him for his name?

So how could he go for her? You can’t fathom a goddamn reason as to why—

Ah…Well.

You can, but you hate it.

Adaline is beautiful, and while no, not a princess, she does have a title the prince can be seen with in public without ridicule, friend or more than. Someone who wouldn’t be looked at like a charity case or a flavour of the week. Someone who’s used to the media. Adaline doesn’t have to hide from them. Isn’t scared to be seen by them with him. It wouldn’t ruin her future. It’ll only add to i—Wait.

Holy shit.

Adaline comes from one of the most influential families on the Eastern Shores. One with a lot of political power. Like, best friends with the Queen of the Eastern Shores, political power. Though she was only ever graced with sons. Adaline’s probably the closest thing she has to a daughter.

A marriage between Jungkook and Adaline could potentially unify the two sides again.

Jungkook and Adaline could re-unite the East and West after centuries of war and separation, and current amicable co-existence.

Now that’s a reason he would date her. to become power couple of the century.

The next step in history.

The whole idea of them makes more and more sense the more you think about it. Adaline, darling of the East marrying the future King of the West. And your stomach curls in on itself.

Just because it makes sense doesn’t mean you have to like it.

And you pray to whatever god or gods there are in this universe that he keeps her away from you and out of your conversations. Jungkook’s relationship isn’t any of your business, nor your interest, but you don’t know how well you’d be able to keep your mouth shut about her if he asks anything.

You know he likes that you’re honest. That you don’t hide things from him others would just to please him. But at what point do you put that aside to keep the peace in an otherwise very comfortable and still blossoming friendship? At what point does honesty become an obstacle rather than a building block?

You know that if Jungkook ever meets Nel and happens not to like him he would keep his mouth shut, mostly. Hopefully. He may give you a hard time but that’s just him. Jungkook knows your relationship is important to you, that it and Nel, make you happy. He would respect that.

So again, who are you to speak ill of the person he’s chosen for himself? Maybe he knows something you don’t, sees something in her that you haven’t.

Just…Why did it have to be Adaline?

He could have anyone, anyone—on campus, in the West, the East, for the love of god, he could have anyone in the entire ass realm he wants! It’s easy to forget when he speaks with his mouth full, dresses in baggy, comfy clothes, and whines about movie choices, but Jungkook is still Prince of the Western Shores.

He’s still the most eligible bachelor on the continent.

Yet somehow he chose the one person you can’t stand to be within 1000 feet of. He chose the one person you never thought he would’ve liked for himself because underneath everything, she is everything he claims to hate.

He chose Adaline Dupree.

So yeah, you wonder why he hid it from you. Why he felt like he couldn’t tell you. Sure, you hated her, but he doesn’t know that. Probably.

Maybe his love life is something he keeps private? Everyone has that right, and maybe that’s what he’s used to doing due to his every choice being splashed on every news and media outlet there is.

You roll your eyes. Merciless vultures.

So maybe he’s not used to sharing this side of himself with others. Maybe that’s why he didn’t tell you anything.

And with all of this chaos now flitting around your brain, you failed to notice the little slice of pain behind your sternum the more they ricochet around up there. You’re hurt.

You didn’t expect it to hurt.

Out of everything you could feel about this: confusion, anger, exasperation, annoyance, you don’t feel any of them. You just feel upset that he didn’t come to you about it. Didn’t feel like he could discuss it with you.

You are the person your friends—old and new—come to talk to. Always have been. You’re the one who has the rational, well thought out advice. The common sense distributor. The one sought out to help, regardless of the situation.

And you love it. You love that you’re able to help your friends. Love that they trust you with such things. That you’re the person they seek assistance and guidance from. The ear they bounce their thoughts off of. You’ve always been told you have ‘knowledge beyond your years’ as your mother says. You take pride in that. It gives your life that much more meaning.

So even though you don’t want to, and know you shouldn’t, because it has nothing to do with you and you know that…you’re taking this as somewhat of a personal blow.

Maybe you’re losing your touch. You hope not.

But, you need to react like you normally would. Like you still hate the prince for how he humiliated Yuri, just like she hates Adaline for you. Solidarity between best friends, even if it’s fake.

Come on YN you got this, you think to yourself.

You [2:40pm]: I almost feel sorry for him. After how he treated you tho? They deserve each other

No they don’t, no they don’t, no they don’t.

He deserves so much better.

SlurryYuri [2:40pm]: I’m just surprised he went for her tbh SlurryYuri [2:41pm]: isnt she like a total bitch? To you at least? SlurryYuri [2:41pm]: like just knowing what I do from the tiny bit of time I spent with him, she doesn’t really seem to be his type

Vindication!

You [2:42pm]: uh yeah, like 100% yes. Shes a rich party girl who doesnt know the word punishment, always gets what she wants, regardless if she works for it or not. And takes it when she especially doesnt deserve it You [2:43pm]: probably explains how she got him 🙄

Vivian pops outside to check in, and takes the couple steps to reach your table, some napkins and a large cup of water in hand.

“Hey! Are you okay? I saw that spit take and one; wow, that was impressive. But two; is everything alright?” she asks, passing you the napkins. The water gets thrown on the wall to wash off the splatter.

You wipe up your chin and remnants of projected hot chocolate on the table.

“Sorry, thank you. Yes, I’m fine,” you lie easily. A little scared of how easy it’s becoming. “I just learned some really shocking news is all. I shouldn’t have read it with a full mouth.”

“Oh! That makes sense. I hope whatever it is turns out fine.”

“Thanks, me too.”

You know Vivian means well, but she doesn’t know that that is the very last thing you want. You want Adaline’s corruptive, cutthroat, cruel nature away from Jungkook.

But is he just Jungkook anymore?

You’ve spent enough time together to consider him a friend, a close friend even. You’ve grown to care for him, platonically, similar to the way you do Yuri. And the fact that you want Adaline as far away from him as she can get so he doesn't go through whatever shit she’ll inevitably get him wrapped up in, definitely says something.

Adaline loves many things—art, fashion, publicity—but the thing she likes better than anything else?

Attention.

She thrives on it. The more eyes on her the better. She’s a ‘there’s no such thing as bad press’ type, and you worry what that means for him.

Especially now that she’s taken them public—because you know it was her that did it, he would have never—and she’s going to be the hottest topic in all of the newest news cycles.

Say they’ve been seeing one another since the beginning of the school year? Just a guess, but a likely correct one—you shiver at the thought. That’s less than seven weeks to get to know one another before camera crews and reporters start breathing down their necks. They’ll ask and comment on everything you thought you might go through at one point. But unlike you, Adaline will face it head on with a smile and win them over. Gladly welcome them with open arms.

Because exactly like Jungkook fears with everyone new, she desires everything a relationship with him would give her.

Status, fame, power, wealth, brand sponsorships, popularity, jealousy, people wishing they could be her. You couldn’t build a better trap to lure her into if you tried.

Jungkook is potentially unknowingly feeding her already enormous ego simply by publicly dating her. And it dawns on you that your classes with her are going to become even more insufferable.

Great.

You don’t even know if she’s going to care that she has him. As wonderful, kind and talented as Jungkook is, you have a very good sense that she’ll be just like rest; happy to receive what he can give her, and not a damn to be given about him.

So now you worry. You worry for him and for his safety and for his feelings.

Because that’s what friends do.

Right?

“Hey.”

You look up to see Jungkook rounding the back corner to the cafe, backpack slung over a shoulder, mask, hat and hoodie all too familiar. You’d be able to spot him a mile away now, it’s all in his posture and eyes.

Maybe he should invest in some sunglasses.

And slouch.

You’re elbows deep in yellow and brown paint from the sunflowers that now fill the canvas in front of you. You’ve been experimenting with texture, oil paint thicker in some places to give off a more 3D effect. Stripes of green carved into the medium by the edge of a long palette knife mimic stems, and fat leaves placed with precision also riddle the cloth.

As he nears, you try your best not to come off as upset, pissed off or worried when you reply.

“Hey,” you fail miserably, sounding exactly like you’re all kinds of upset, and pissed off, and worried.

Shit.

Like always, he notices immediately.

“Everything okay?” he’s taking his spot at the table beside you, the one that seats four, having abandoned his original one weeks ago.

You two both found yourselves here so frequently that over time, he started sitting next to you without asking. Always in the same spots. Always side by side. Him at the closest chair to you, you at the same one you always have.

Sure, you two shared movie nights and fun messages, you talk everyday and pretty much talk about whatever you want. But when it comes to academics, he knows he has to tread water a little differently around you. He can’t constantly start conversations the way he would at movie night when you’re at the greenhouse cafe. You’re here to work and to study, and if he wants to be there too, he has to respect that about you, and know not to take it personally.

So you work together in comfortable silence most of the time, occasionally breaking it to have a conversation, get snacks, or pose for one another’s homework. It’s become another routine you share, an unspoken agreement that when you were both there at the same time, you worked together.

And you haven’t minded since that first time. The one when you decided to say yes to your friendship.

You welcome it. Welcome him. His presence.

Company’s nice to have when it’s wanted.

When it’s him.

And whether you know it or not, you seem to work better when you are in each other's immediate orbit. You work better when he works alongside you, able to focus better due to body doubling and to have a second opinion at the ready when you need it. Just like he worked better when you worked alongside him, a willing model any time he needed, and an open ear when he wanted to work something out.

You two just work. And because of this, he also picks up when something isn’t quite right with the atmosphere you two have created.

Play it off YN.

“Yeah, just focused. Sorry.”

He doesn’t believe you for a second. When you focus you have a very distinct look on your face, eyes clearer, an eyebrow constantly quirked in self reflection, and that isn’t the one you have on right now.

But he lets it slide. For now. Somethings up with you, and he knows better than to push you before you’re ready.

“That’s okay. I’m running in, need anything?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you go back to painting, barely acknowledging him and shutting out the outside world.

Yeah, something’s definitely up.

You’re ignoring him so hard you don’t notice Jungkook lifting your hot chocolate just enough to feel it’s empty.

Vivian’s behind the counter as he enters and takes off his mask to flash her a wide smile.

“Hey Vivian, how are you today?”

She blushes like she does every time he comes in, hands slowing in their task.

“Hey JK, I’m good. You?” He had to ask her about a hundred times to drop the ‘your highnesses,’ ‘you majesty’s,’ and ‘prince’s.’ Telling her it really was okay, and that no, she wasn’t going to get in trouble for it. It took her some time, but eventually she came around and it’s made his experience here so much better. So much more normal.

She’d settled on JK because ‘it makes me feel like I’m listening to what you want while also not feeling guilty and weird about calling you Jungkook without the prince part.’

He could work with that logic.

“I’m alright, could I get my usual and a hot chocolate for YN? With a little extra secret ingredient if you're so inclined?” You shared the not so secret stash secret with Jungkook about a week after you said yes. “She seems upset. Have you noticed anything off lately? Has she said anything to you?”

Jungkook peruses the pastry display while Vivian starts on his drink.

“Not really, she did a wicked spit take earlier about some news her friend told her, but said she was fine, just surprised. Besides that, focused maybe? Or maybe the opposite of that and a little distracted?” She thinks for a second. “Does she have an exam coming up that you know about? She gets a little weird before those.”

He knows exactly what’s meant by that. Witnessed it himself, bunny slippers and all.

But no, you don’t. Your midterms aren’t until the first week of November, nearly two weeks away. You started studying for them last week.

He spots egg tarts in the back corner of the pastry display, hiding. Perfect.

“I don’t think that’s it, but thanks though. I’ll get it out of her eventually, especially if I have one of those egg tarts to butter her up first,” he says in a questioning tone to ask for one while pointing at them.

Vivian smiles a knowing smile. He wants to know what it means because she’s worn it around him for a while now, and he’s half tempted to ask at this point.

“I think that could be arranged.”

Jungkook pays and heads to your tables again. You’re still locked into your own world of colour and canvas. He subtly sets down the hot chocolate and bagged tart so that you won’t notice until you pop the bubble you’re in.

Halfway through a business assignment he hears your surprise. The weird look on your face finally breaking, a grateful one taking its place as you peek at him.

A soft, genuine, “thank you,” finds his ears as your lips meet lid, and you can’t meet his eye. He knows you often forget to drink or eat when you’re in the zone.

Maybe now with a warm drink and some goodies in your belly, you’re willing to talk about it.

“You sure everything’s okay?” he asks again.

Your deep sigh and unfocused gaze says enough to him.

You are willing to talk.

Quietly, almost ashamed sounding, you ask, “Why didn't you tell me about her?”

Her?

Oh.

Oh…

You meant Adaline. Why hadn’t he told you about Adaline.

“Why did I find out an hour ago from Yuri screaming at me through text messages and not from you? Is it something you’re private about? Do you not trust me?”

The truth was that he was hoping to keep it under wraps for a bit longer, actually, hoping you never found out so he wouldn’t have to explain the reason why.

He still doesn’t have too, and he won’t. Not the real reason.

He won’t ruin things. He can’t.

But he also should have known better. Should have known that not telling you would hurt you instead. Of course he trusted you.

You talk everyday, sometimes for hours, sometimes just to check in. You hang out during the week, whether it be at the cafe like you are right now, or for Sunday movie night.

Six weeks isn’t a long time, but it was plenty when he thinks about how much time you two have already spent together, how much you’ve gotten to know one another.

How comfortable you are in each other’s presence.

Six weeks isn’t a long time, but it feels like you’ve always been there with him, listening, cheering, supporting.

Six weeks isn't a long time, and yet it feels like it’s been forever.

Of course you’re hurt he didn’t tell you. So he doesn’t lie to you, but he also doesn’t tell you the full truth.

“Oh…uh, that.” He rubs a hand at the nape of his neck. “That just kind of happened recently actually, like Monday recently. My father’s been really pressuring me to find someone to court,” and I couldn’t go with my first choice. “So I did.”

“And you went with Adaline?” You ask carefully.

“Uh, yeah? Is there something wrong with her?”

Adaline isn’t his first, second or tenth choice. She's his father’s choice. Might as well appease him and at least try with this girl. It’s going…fine, so far.

Adaline wanted to make it social media official as soon as possible, wanted what he could give her, like everyone else. Like he expected. And so he willingly suffered through a photo session where she staged everything to make it look perfectly unposed and natural. Even though none of it was.

She’d told him to put his arms around her waist and kiss her forehead, and it worked. The picture wasn’t bad, they both looked great. But he hated it anyway. It wasn't a spur of the moment decision, or sincere. It wasn’t a picture of two fools drunk on love, wanting to capture something beautiful for their future selves to look back on to reminisce over.

It was an uncomfortable hour and a half of touching and kissing a complete stranger, and it is the complete opposite of what he wants in a relationship.

He wants genuine and carefree and candid. He wants honest, true feelings and social media posts saved for anniversaries and birthdays instead of using them as a mini documentary of every part of his life through pictures.

He wants shitty birthday cakes made from scratch, and blurry polaroid pictures of kisses in the rain to put in his wallet when he’s away from them. He wants silly nicknames and inside jokes no one else will understand.

He wants midnight walks hand in hand under moonlight and quirky habits he picks up from them. He wants pictures of precious moments and holidays celebrated between just the two of you and movie nights under blanket forts with popcorn and hot chocolate and egg tarts.

He wants real.

He wants authentic.

He wants love.

Not some staged artificial bullshit for an online presence that means nothing once you’re dead.

But this is new and exciting for Adaline. He understands that a relationship with him is a very big deal, that she’s not used to it yet, and that it hasn’t been nearly long enough for him to see the true her yet.

It’s only been 44 hours. Not that he’s counting.

So he’s going to give her some time, and have some faith that maybe she shows him that side of herself if it exists. He doesn't think she's going to change all that much for several reasons, the first being her enormous reputation, and the second being that she’s a politician's daughter, but he’s going to at least try. The way he hopes she will.

And if nothing does change, and she stays the exact same, at least she’s pretty enough to distract him.

He knows that’s not the most mature or princely thing to do or think. In fact, he knows it’s quite asshole-ish of him, but if Adaline’s going to openly use him for her own personal gain, why shouldn’t he be able to use her just a little bit too?

She isn’t unfamiliar with political relationships, having been born from one, so he doesn’t think she would be against it either. And it’s not like he’ll be mistreating her, quite the opposite in fact.

He’ll shower her with expensive gifts and happily take however many pictures she wants. He’ll smother her in physical affection and get or do whatever she needs in order to make her happy.

Because as much as she clearly wants this relationship with him for whatever reason, he desperately needs it more with every passing day. He needs somewhere to put everything he’s feeling. And if that happens to be in a beautiful woman his father approves of who he could possibly, eventually grow feelings for? It’s a win-win in his book.

But at the same time, sometimes he really hates the shit he has to navigate in his Royal Life.

While Jungkook is caught in his thought spiral, you bite your tongue. Like actually bite your tongue.

Don’t say shit Y/N.

Don't say anything.

It’s not your business. What they have together and what’s between you and Adaline are completely separate, unrelated things. One’s a rivalry and one's a relationship. Those are not the same.

At. All.

So, still untrusting of your mouth, you shake your head and dodge his question by changing the direction of the conversation.

“Why did you go public so quickly?” you ask, feeling like it’s the safest question you can muster. “It’s literally only been two days.”

He shrugs. “She wanted to, and I didn’t say no.”

“Courseshedid,” you mutter under your breath. That should’ve been red flag number one. Two days? Who goes social media official after two days!?

“What?”

“Nothing,” you try your best to give him the closest thing to a smile you can currently muster, forcibly removing any acid from every word. “I hope she makes you happy.”

He doesn’t tell you she was hand picked by the king for him.

That at twenty-four, he still isn’t pulling all of his own strings. It’s pathetic.

“Me too.”

He hopes she’ll help more than anything. Even if it’s just for a little while. “I’ve never been in a public relationship before. But the kingdom and my father seem to like her, so I’m sure I will too, with time.”

It takes all of your focus not to roll your eyes.

Of course they do. Of course the King already likes her, she’s got the attitude and knowledge for politics, so she’s perfect! Strong potential to be the heartless, ruthless Queen to what you already know will be Jungkook's kind and giving King.

Great! Just great. That’s just…great…

Maybe you’re biased. Maybe there’s something in her that you can’t see because of your past with her.

Maybe they really are perfect for one another and you just refuse to see it. Opposites attract, isn’t that what they say? Well Jungkook and Adaline couldn’t be more opposite of one another.

So you decide that you won’t let your personal feelings get in the way. That you’ll keep the peace and support his choice, regardless of your opinion of her, even if you hate his choice.

And you really hate his choice.

“I have no doubt.”

The seat heater in the car you rented to pick Nel up from the airport keeps your tush toasty while you drive.

Friday night has never felt so exciting!

You can barely sit still, the leg not pressing the pedals won’t stop bouncing and you have to sit on your hands at stop lights to try and keep calm.

God you missed him, it's only been two months since you last saw him, and yet it feels like forever.

You have the piece of printer paper with ‘Smoosh’ printed on it in the biggest font you could have horizontally. It’s something you do every year, and every year it never fails to bring the biggest smile to Nel’s face when you wave it wildly the second you see him.

Pulling up to the terminal you keep your eyes peeled for the first parking spot you can find. Never an easy feat at this particular airport but you manage to find one somewhere in the J lot under section 1, whatever that meant. All you care about right now is that you’re decently close to the doors as you grab your phone, bag, sign, and that you’re perfectly on time.

Entering through sliding doors, you find the waiting area mostly empty, so you pick the best place to sit as you wait for his flight to land: dead center and up front.

You can’t wait. Just a few more minutes and you’ll see him.

You can’t wait. You can’t wait. You can't wait!

Your phone dings and you jump at it, looking for the ‘I’ve landed’ text from Nel, but it’s not from Nel.

It’s from Jungkook.

Me [10:42pm]: See you in a week. I hope you enjoy your time with Nel.

That sounds okay, right? It sounds neutral? Safe?

Like he hasn’t been dreading this week since that day you told him about it?

Jungkook hopes so. Because he wants you to enjoy your week off.

Your week off with Nel.

And not him.

That’s normal, he has to remind himself. That he’s not anyone particularly special to you, just a friend. Not someone you would go out of your way for to spend all your free time with over break. Not even for two hours on Sunday nights.

Just a regular, average, nothing important about him…

Friend.

He doesn’t want to feel like this. Doesn’t want to have all of these… whatever these feelings are, about and for you.

He really doesn’t want to. But more than that, he can’t.

He can’t have any sort of non-platonic feelings for the first person who didn’t give a shit about who he was. For the person who makes him feel more like himself than anyone else.

For the person who has a boyfriend.

For the person who isn’t his girlfriend.

For the person who’s you.

But he can’t fucking help it!

So he’s been shoving them down, down, down. So far down that he’s able to function around you.

Because it’s you.

You’re kind, and caring. Talented, beautiful, giving. Driven, smart. You respect what he asks for and what he wants for himself, not because he's the Prince demanding, but because it's him—because it’s Jungkook—that asks you, and you liste–

No! Stop it. He can’t. He can’t!

Stop, stop, stop—

You have Nel! 5 years in, loving, loyal boyfriend, probably soon to be more after graduation, Nel.

It’s expected that you would spend what little time off you have with the boyfriend you barely get to see, wouldn’t it? Makes sense that every second you have, is saved for him?

For being happy with who makes you happy?

Jungkook wants to see you happy. And Nel makes you happier than he’s ever seen you before, so he can’t be too upset with the guy, even though he wants to be. He wants to hate him. But how could he hate someone that gave you the smile that completely shatters his heart.

Picasso [10:43pm]: Thanks! I will. See you soon😊

With a broken smile, he turns his phone off and puts it in his pocket.

He’s up against a wall, red cup in his hand filled with something that he’s barely touched yet, trying not to be too noticeable.

Adaline’s dragged him to some party on campus he really doesn't care about. But she said it would be good to be seen out together now that things are official.

Out in the open, for everyone to see. For everyone to talk about.

So he went, because she asked him to.

And now he’s regretting it. The music is shit, the people smell and everything he touches is damp or sweaty. This isn’t a part of the university experience he ever intended on participating in, but here he is.

Adaline appears from the crowd, walking over to where he stands, a cup of her own in one hand and the other finding its way to his neck.

One thing Jungkook’s glad for is the alcohol. Something to help his racing thoughts, pounding heart, and roiling gut. Something to drown out the world. Even if he’s only had two gulps so far.

More, then.

Taking a hefty swig he revels in the burn that crawls down his throat. It feels good, it makes him feel less. So he takes another one and another, and then pours his turmoiled feelings about you and Nel into Adaline’s lips. Shoving them down, further and further, until it’s like they were never even there in the first place.

The only thing that's there now is the fire in his stomach, Adaline, and her cherry flavoured lip gloss.

Chapter Six: Eastern Arrivals and Unwanted Doubt

A/N 2: I'm so sorry this took for literal ever. I never intend on taking forever but unfortunately real life gets in the way and I'm left with no creative energy to output writing I'm proud of.

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

375 notes · View notes

stealanity · 1 year ago

Text

playlist one , the boyz ( cch to src ) :

⠀

ꕤ choi chanhee ,

the so-called boyfriend ( smau , hiatus )

better

yarrow

cry for me

strawberry flavor

champagne kiss

⠀

[ 8:42pm ]

[ 10:42pm ]

[ 11:12pm ]

[ 5:25am ]

⠀

ꕤ ji changmin ,

you did well

lying eyes

first love

dream of you

dream of you ( part two )

⠀

[ 10:32pm ]

[ 2:24am ]

[ 6:17am ]

[ 6:14pm ]

⠀

ꕤ ju haknyeon ,

our secret little date

⠀

[ 12:24pm ]

[ 8:23pm ]

[ 9:36pm ]

⠀

ꕤ kim sunwoo ,

color palette ( smau , finished )

game over ( ft. eric , written serie , discontinued )

you're save

late night kiss

a to z being your boyfriend

old toy

new toy

ghost train

just friends

easier

unashamedly

⠀

[ 3:47am ]

[ 3:45am ]

[ 9:45pm ]

[ 6:38pm ]

[ 11:57pm ]

[ 11:25pm ]

⠀

ꕤ sohn eric ,

endless race ( smau , finished )

game over ( ft. sunwoo , written serie , discontinued )

age of love

broken night

never be you

roulette to your heart

because of you

black hair & red lipstick

all over

one bed

birthday present(s)

⠀

[ 3:22pm ]

[ 2:56pm ]

[ 2:24pm ]

[ 2:04am ]

⠀

ꕤ ot-eleven ,

sorry, for breaking your heart ( written serie , hiatus )

kiss or kill? ( one shot )

the boyz as the vamps' songs

october 19 : international kiss your crush day

kiss their s/o for the first time

their s/o asking them for one last kiss

their s/o having a habit of sitting on their lap

their s/o being drunk

their s/o cutting their hair short

their s/o holding hands when they're anxious / clingy

their crush not being touchy

always having an extra scrunchie for their s/o

watching a horror movie with their s/o

sharing a bed with their s/o for the first time

accidently outing their relationship on vlive

⠀

. . . link to hyung line !

385 notes · View notes

eqt-95 · 9 months ago

Text

alone / sunburn

supercorptober / whumptober quinn's superwhumpcorptober master list

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*Missed call from Alex 🔫*

Alex 🔫 [8:11am]: jamaica? really? Alex 🔫 [8:14am]: i did no such thing. sam spilled the beans

*Missed call from Alex 🔫*

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Alex 🔫 [8:27am]: we have a guest bedroom for a reason

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Alex 🔫 [9:42am]: don't go ghosting us luthor.

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Alex 🔫 [9:49am]: really? even your own god daughter.

*Call from Esme 🌸, 3 minutes*

Alex 🔫 [10:03am]: i did no such thing. they offered their phones Alex 🔫 [10:07am]: you too,we love you enjoy the sun Alex 🔫 [10:08am]: don’t forget sunscreen

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Jess [2:26pm]: i’m already handling it; enjoy your time off

Andrea in ‘The Three Amigos’ [2:26pm]: well that didn’t take long: catco.com/breaking-news/super-and-a-luthor-on-the-outs-? Andrea in ‘The Three Amigos’ [2:26pm]: what good is being editor-in-chief if she can’t keep a lid on the rumor mill? Sam in ‘The Three Amigos’ [2:26pm]: ignore her. jess is dealing with the press Andrea in ‘The Three Amigos’ [2:26pm]: ‘press’ is an interesting way to say ‘ex-wife’

~*~*~*~

Andrea in ‘The Three Amigos’ [2:41pm]: it was just a joke, sweetie Sam in ‘The Three Amigos’ [2:43pm]: 🐶🏠 Andrea in ‘The Three Amigos’ [2:46pm]: shut up sam

*Sam changed the group name to ‘the two amigos and toto’*

Fly Ferris Air | Your bag #5006561792 is now arriving at carousel 6 in MBJ.

Amex Platinum Card: CCR LTD - $428.37

55986 [3:51pm]: Hi Lena, thanks for choosing to rent with us at City Car Rental Ltd. Customer service is our top priority, and we want to ensure that your rental experience with City Car Rental Ltd is an excellent one.

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BFV Spa & Care [5:13pm]: Welcome to Bluefields Villa & Spa. Your inclusive couples deep tissue massage is confirmed for tomorrow at 11:00 AM. We look forward to seeing you. BFV Spa & Care [5:14pm]: Cancelled: your couples deep tissue massage has been cancelled. To reschedule please REPLY. BFV Spa & Care [5:13pm]: Your deep tissue massage is confirmed for tomorrow at 11:00 AM. We look forward to welcoming you. *Esme 🌸 reacted with 🤩* Esme 🌸[6:44pm]: take me with you next time!

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Ruby [10:28pm]: Mom says we can catch the next flight out, but only if you agree Ruby [10:31pm]: ok 🥺 Sam [10:36pm]: what? so sue me for letting someone else be the bad guy Sam [10:44pm]: you know we’re just concerned, right? Sam [10:46pm]: i know, but you don’t have to do it alone Sam [10:49pm]: love you too, babe

CatCo Breaking News Clear Four alarm fire rings out in downtown Nati…

~*~*~*~ Do Not Disturb Active ~*~*~*~

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Amex Platinum Card: Bluefield C&B - $6.23

LL Foundation | Marketing meeting starts in 10 minutes

Jess [10:21am]: sorry, i meant to clear your calendar. no need to attend - i’ll send you the meeting minutes

Amex Platinum Card: Bluefields Villa & Spa - $244.60

Amex Platinum Card: Bluefields Villa & Spa - $33.95

BFV Spa & Care [12:14pm]: We are preparing your meal, to be delivered to your villa between 12:37PM and 12:52PM. To update your location, please REPLY.

BFV Spa & Care [12:18pm]: Hello Mrs. Luthor, your request has been noted. Your meal will be delivered delivered poolside between 12:37PM and 12:52PM.

*Andrea changed the group name to ‘sam is an asshat’*

Andrea in ‘sam is an asshat’ [1:23pm]: @LL please tell me you’re at least enjoying the beach Sam in ‘sam is an asshat’ [1:27pm]: don’t forget sunscreen

*Sam changed the group name to ‘sam looks stunning in a hat’*

85075 [4:51pm]: Hi Lena, this is your local City Car Rental Ltd. Thank you again for being a valued customer. We hope your trip is going well. Customer service is our top priority. Please reach out if you need assistance during your rental.

Esme 🌸 [10:44am]: picture Esme 🌸 [10:44am]: what do you think? *Esme 🌸 reacted with 🙄*

CatCo Breaking News Clear All Local authorities split over Supergirl’s late… Lena Luthor missing? Foundation in chaos…

*Missed call from Andrea*

Andrea in ‘sam looks stunning in a hat’ [2:41pm]: @LL we need to talk about this Andrea in ‘sam looks stunning in a hat’ [2:43pm]: i know you need your alone time, but these headlines are out of hand Sam in ‘sam looks stunning in a hat’ [2:48pm]: don’t put this on kara. you know she abstains from personal headlines Andrea in ‘sam looks stunning in a hat’ [2:450pm]: it’s not just catco. last night is on every news channel and front page from here to metropolis Andrea in ‘sam looks stunning in a hat’ [3:02pm]: @LL i will do no such thing Andrea in ‘sam looks stunning in a hat’ [3:14pm]: this is entirely within my purview. i told you years ago when i took this role this would become a liability and now i have a mayor’s nosy intern breathing down my neck Sam in ‘sam looks stunning in a hat’ [3:15pm]: you’ve never complained about that before Andrea in ‘sam looks stunning in a hat’ [3:17pm]: this is serious; they’re threatening a lawsuit

Jess [3:23pm]: of course

*Call from Jess, 21 minutes*

Jess [3:52pm]: they’ve agreed. i’ll keep you posted.

*Missed call from Kara ❤️*

*New Voicemail*

Reply STOP to Opt Out. Msg & Data rates may apply.

Outlook *Priority* | Jess The Secretary - Draft Press Release (for Immediate Issue)

Jess [6:57pm]: comments received. i will issue within the hour

*Missed call from Kara ❤️*

Amex Platinum Card: Sugarock Lagoon & Spirits - $68.88

CatCo Breaking News Clear Kara Danvers to take leave of absence as C…

Alex 🔫 in ‘Fairy Godmother’ [9:34pm]: i don’t need the details, but i hope you know what you’re doing Kelly in ‘Fairy Godmother’ [9:42pm]: I think what Alex means to say is that we’re here for you and support you and Kara equally in whatever you two decide Alex 🔫 in ‘Fairy Godmother’ [9:44pm]: how is that different from what i said?

~*~*~*~ Do Not Disturb Active ~*~*~*~

CatCo Breaking News Clear All Supergirl sighted in Gotham after Nationa… What’s next for National City’s Power Cou… Fall Looks: CEO-Chic on a Budget

Instagram | s3xy4u and 16,238 others follow you but you don’t follow them

Amazon | The 50 SPF sunscreen is still in your cart! Don't...

85075 [8:51am]: Hi Lena, this is your local City Car Rental Ltd. Thank you again for being a valued customer. We hope your trip is going well. We haven’t heard from you: is everything going ok?

Reply STOP to Opt Out. Msg & Data rates may apply.

85075 [8:53am]: Hi Lena, this is your local City Car Rental Ltd again. We see you have selected ‘Opt Out’ of future messages. We are sorry to see you go but are committed to customer service. Please take a short survey to help us improve future engagement: ccrltd.com/survey

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*Missed call from Kara ❤️*

Esme 🌸 [11:13am]: picture Esme 🌸 [11:14am]: better? *Esme 🌸 reacted with 😘*

*Missed call from Kara ❤️*

Amex Platinum Card: Bluefields Villa & Spa - $28.55

BFV Spa & Care [12:54pm]: We are preparing your order, to be delivered to your villa between 1:15PM and 1:31PM. To update your location, please REPLY.

85075 [3:53pm]: Hi Lena, this is your local City Car Rental Ltd again. We see you haven’t taken our short survey. It will only take 10-30 minutes to complete: ccrltd.com/survey

CatCo Breaking News Clear Supergirl press conference scheduled f…

BFV Spa & Care [4:07pm]: You’ve received a package. To have the package delivered to your villa, please REPLY.

BFV Spa & Care [4:11pm]: Hello Mrs. Luthor. Yes, we can confirm the package has been inspected by security. A note has been included. Advance opening requires your authorization.

BFV Spa & Care [4:11pm]: Yes, of course Mrs. Luthor. The contents are an 8oz container of aloe gel. The message says ‘Because I know you forgot sunscreen. - KD’

*Call from Kara ❤️, 42 minutes*

#this took a day longer than i meant; it was deceptively hard #let's just say i did NOT have fun in the sandbox today #supercorptober #whumptober #put them together and whaddya get?#superwhumpcorptober #supercorp fic

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