#so im not going to beat that particular drum at this moment

[note-a-bear]

Don't go into the notes of any of the posts about the proud boys getting bashed back. So many people adoringly and self congratulating themselves for wanting 'drag queen bodyguards because they're so tough'

If yall don't shut the fuck up fetishizing forced resiliency. And all the soft uwu 'I have anxiety but I'd merc a fash' riding alongside it isn't helping.

An article about drag queens/allies HAVING to physically fight off an attempted assault by state supported bigots is NOT the place to talk about how magical action movie badass they are. It's the place to ask 'what can we offer for post-incident support'

#the center is always on shaky legs financially #but its also got massive institutional support and is the most well known space/organization in the city #so im not going to beat that particular drum at this moment #but i will try to get info about specific programs through the center that could use targeted support

[lordprettyflackotara]

till dawn || eyeless jack || part three

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. TW: LOTS OF PLOT, being chased teehee scary, unrealistic demon sex bc be so honest w yourself that’s why you’re here, breeding kink, bondage/choking kink. there will be one more part, a finale to this lil series :’) i think for my next series for the creeps im gonna go with either jeff or masky, haven’t decided yet. ANYWAYS, enjoy!!

the finale to till dawn is here

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, threatening to burst through your rib cage.

The sound of crunching leafs echoed behind you, one set of footsteps in particular on your heels. Eerie laughter filled your ears as you threw one foot in front of the other, desperate to get away.

You had decided to follow Jack once he left your house. It wasn’t a logical thing to do, knowing that from what Jack talked about other beings like him existed. You knew Jack was a one of one and so were the others he told you stories about. He promised to introduce you to them someday, but not today.

Curiosity got a hold of your better judgment, causing you to slowly trail behind him. Curiosity was about to kill the cat. You could feel your lungs burning, a whooshing sound flying past your ear. You gasped as a rusty axe had been thrown into the tree beside your head. It had nearly nipped you, your ear millimeters from the blade.

What you didn’t realize, was that the moment you walked into these predators territory, you’d become the prey.

Jack knew you had followed him. He was fine with you doing so. Up until now, he had assumed the Supernatural borders prevented any human from entering. As an animalistic growl escaped his throat, weaving through the trees, he realized he had never been more wrong.

Toby was close behind you, Jack could hear his mouth twitching with pride as he got closer to you. Your presence had alerted every creep within a five mile radius, none of them aware of who you were. It was Jacks job to stop them from getting to you, ignoring the loud drum of your heartbeat. Thankfully Jack was the fastest, his killing style driven by animalistic primal hunger. He was gaining distance on Toby, reaching one hand out and grabbing him by his hair.

You forced yourself to not look back, to not question the sudden silence of your purser. Typically you thought of yourself to be a decent runner, now realizing track in high school could’ve never prepared you for a situation like this. Once all you heard was silence, you allowed yourself to slow down. Panting, you leaned against the sharp forest bark of one of the trees. Everything around you looked the exact same, like a never ending loop.

It was official. You were lost.

The sound of rushing water intrigued you, your eyes darting in each direction to find the source. Despite the eerie feeling of being alone in such a dark forest, you felt like multiple sets of eyes were watching you. Stalking you. Hunting you. The moonlight dimly lit the forest floor, your feet carrying you in what you believed to be the direction of the river. You had been camping before, the sounds of bugs or owls having previously been a comfort.

But here, in this forest, there were neither of those things. You trudged towards the river, a large river bank coming into view. The water was harsh as it crashed against the rocks below it. Murkiness and darkness prevented you from seeing the bottom of the river, unaware of how deep it was. Or from seeing what creatures lurked below.

Jack was close to catching up with you, his focus on Jeff and Jane as they slowly closed in on you. Jane was nimble, using her small frame and agility to swing through the trees. As Jack watched them both close in on you, it occurred to him neither of them realized the other was present. If the situation wasn’t so dire of your safety he’d watch in amusement just to see what happened next. Jeff went for the kill first, Jacks body flying forward to stop him. But Jane had beat him to it.

The loud crashing sound behind you caused you to jump, instantly turning around. A man and woman, whom you could almost think to be siblings, were visibly fighting in front of you. “What the fuck Jane? Can you not see i’m doing something here?” The man growled. Unsettling crimson blood dripped down the carvings on the side of his face. His cheeks were mutilated beyond belief, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull.

Fight or flight was not crossing your mind, your body frozen in fear. “I found her long before you did dipshit,” Jane snarled. Knives occupied both of their hands, her unsettling, soulless black abyss for eyes glancing at you. “She’s a cute one, I can see why you wanted the kill. Sadly she’s mine Jeffrey, all mine,” She smirked. Jack went to intervene, the overwhelming sound of two more heartbeats stopping him. Shit, Masky and Hoody. Surely Slender had sent the proxies to check on the situation, Toby beating them due to his speed.

Jack felt conflicted, trying to rationalize what to do. If he intervened Jeff and Jane now, he would have to take both of them on as well as the proxies. His gaze landed on the two pale killers, both of them still bickering. But, if he managed to stop the proxies fast enough, he could come back and retrieve you. The proxies wouldn’t be hard to find, their heartbeats and smell practically giving Jack a map. He felt awful leaving you, the petrified look of horror written across your face as you watched the fight in front of you.

As the sound of the proxies grew closer, Jack turned around, chasing after the sound of pounding hearts.

“You always do this! I find a good kill and here comes Jane!” Jeff argued. Jane rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault we have the same type,” She debated. Slowly you tried to back away, hoping they’d be so involved in their debate they’d forget about your presence. “You’re such a bitch, always copying me and my shit, find another hobby will ya?”Jeff spat harshly.You swallowed as you kept your eyes on them, trying to figure out if you could out run them.

Snap.

Both sets of eyes landed on you, your blood running cold. You could feel the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, everything in you screaming to run. Their eyes contained a certain unnatural hunger, the kind that would only be satisfied by watching you bleed. “You know, the more I think about it, maybe we can call it even just this once, since it’s a special occasion,” Jeff said softly, glancing at Jane. As his eyes moved you noticed that he didn’t blink, his never ending gaze shifting back and forth. His eye sockets were hollow, your mind struggling to make sense of his rancid appearance. He had no eyelids?

“Maybe we should, how often do humans stumble through our forest like this?” Jane replied, chuckling. The two had seemed to come to a decision, moving in unison. They seemed to be patiently waiting for a chase, waiting for you to run. As you turned your back you heard an animalistic growl, one that you could only assume came from one of the pale killers.

What you didn’t realize, was that Jack was ready to rip Jeff apart limb by limb. The two pale killers were blindsided, Jane gasping as she fell to the ground. The demon had Jeff pinned to the ground, snarling above him. It was forbidden to kill another creep, especially on Slender’s grounds. “EJ what-” Jeff began babbling, the animalistic snarl from Jacks throat silencing him. Jane scoffed as she stood up, brushing off her dress.

“If you wanted the kill yourself there’s no sense in being so dramatic, just say so,” She quipped. Jacks gaze stranded from Jeff, settling on Jane as she fully regained her confidence. Jack was never one to hurt a lady, so instead he came up with a different solution. Standing up fully he picked her up, harshly gripping her arms as he tossed her into the nearby river.

You could hear her screams of despair as you continued running into the forest. Whipping your head around to look behind you, for the first time since you had entered the land of terror no one was following you. Your legs burned, your mind spinning. You felt dizzy, your vision beginning to be clouded with stars. The only thing you had on you was your phone. Shakily you took it out of your pocket, thumbing in the password.

Who would you even call? Jack didn’t have a phone, you had no service. You sighed, blankly scrolling between the apps you couldn’t use. Your eyes widened as your screen went black. Did it die? On seventy nine percent? You tilted your head to the side as a camera came into focus, a young blonde man with black and red eyes staring back at you. “Oh wow, hello there gorgeous! EJ sure does know how to pick em huh?” He asked. His pointy ears twitched. That was the final straw. You tossed your phone onto the ground, stomping on it with your boot. The glass shattered, your once prized possession now garbage.

Tilting your head back you let out a pained sigh. How long was it before these maniacs caught up with you? Looking around you found a decent stick. In comparison to the knives and axes the others were equipped with it would be nothing, but you’d go down fighting.

Snap.

You quickly turned around, gripping your stick tightly. Wincing as the wood cut the palm of your hand, you braced yourself. Swallowing, you tried to find the noises creator. A gush of wind breezed past you from a different direction, your eyes darting to your left. What if they were all circling you? Like a pack of wolves? What if this was in the end?

In the dull moonlight you were able to make out a tall figure, your fight or flight kicking in. Hastily you rose your stick, slamming it down on the shadow in front of you. A large hand grabbed your stick, snapping it half, before sending you on the ground. Your collision with the ground knocked the air out of your lungs, your back hitting the dirt below. Instinctively you began thrashing, a strong set of hands pinning you down.

“Hey, hey, HEY, calm down! Look at me!” Jacks voice was firm, filled with worry. Were you going insane? Seeing Jeff was definitely enough to make someone do so. He didn’t want you to end up like Nina. You blinked a few times, Jacks mask long discarded. Blood dripped down his nose, staining his upper lip. A gash sliced across his cheek, the same crimson paint dripping down his gray skin. “Jack?” You panted.

Your heart was beating a mile a minute, Jacks attention temporarily preoccupied as you attempted to catch your breath. His mind returned to normal the moment you began rambling.

“Holy shit there was a guy with an axe who sounded literally like a ticking time bomb and then this like mutilated albino couple wanted to kill me as well and then this dwarf-”

Jack gripped your shoulders, shaking you.

“Why would you come here? Do you understand how difficult it is for me to protect you here?” He panted. His body was becoming tired. Sprinting across Slender forest and fighting off all of his friends was exhausting, even for him. Your eyes were widened as his hands gripped you harder unintentionally. “You single handedly alerted every monster in the goddamn area that there was fresh meat on the market,” Jack continued. You winced in pain as his grip tightened.

“Jack, you’re hurting me.”

His eye sockets widened, the demon releasing you. He stayed on top of you, the two of you blankly staring at one another. “You’re bleeding,” Jack commented. The deeper he inhaled the stronger the scent became, electric cravings crawling across his skin. You didn’t have a chance to tell him where it was coming from, the demon grabbing your wrist to examine your palm.

The blood wasn’t bad, a small stream dripping down the precious little lines of your palm. To think that when he wanted to, he could hunt down whoever he wanted. That truly, you belonged to him. No matter the danger that he created or that others around you did, he was able to restrain himself. To protect you. The scent of your blood made his stomach flip, his body flooding with desire. Your legs shifted under him, your body becoming warmer as he touched you.

Your voice was low, a desperate whisper, “Jack…”

The worry that clouded Jacks mind was washed away by the sound of your soft voice. The only sound that could calm him down and make him feel at ease,was the enchanting sound of you saying his name. You yanked his hoodie, desperately bringing his lips to yours. Your blood soaked into the clothing, a groan escaping Jacks throat.

The delicious sound of your heart beginning to race flooded his ears, his hips slowly grinding on yours. You whimpered, pawing at his hoodie to bring him impossibly closer. Your lips melted against his, submitting to his rougher desperate kisses. His large hands slithered up your shirt, squeezing and kneading at your breast. You groaned into his mouth, the demon trying to be careful as to not nip you with his teeth.

“Here?” You panted, whimpering as he pushed up your bra. Jack kissed down the side of your neck gently, the throbbing pulse of your throat almost too much for him to handle. “I’ll make it quick love, I just need to let everyone in a five mile radius know who you belong to,” Jack huffed, bringing your right nipple into his mouth. You felt his multiple tongues attack the bud, his name spilling from your lips. With a pop he released your nipple, kissing down your stomach.

“How long until they come looking for us again?” You asked nervously, Jacks nimble fingers quickly unbuttoning and sliding down your jeans. He looked up at the sky. “I’d say till dawn,” He guessed. You giggled as he repositioned himself between your legs, your jeans shoved down to your ankles. “Guess you better hurry up then,” You say. His slender fingers began teasingly rubbing your slick through your panties, the thin cloth drenched.

“Let’s make sure you can take me first you troublemaker,” Jack teased, grinning at the sound of you moaning for him. He slid two of his slender fingers in front of you, your walls squeezing him as he curled them inside of you. Desperately you bucked your hips upwards, throwing your head back as he hit your g spot. “All that running made you awfully sensitive, huh?” Jack joked, relishing in the sight of you grabbing at his wrist, the one that was connected to the hand inside of you.

“Jack, fuck, please,” You whined. Jacks eye sockets widened.

He hesitated, “Please what?”

Your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, the humiliation of him making you say what you needed settling in. “Please fuck me,” You pleaded, your voice cracking. Jacks hands were quick to work on his belt, the sound of the metal clinking sending a chill down your spine. You bit your lip as you eyed the leather, Jack noticing. A devilish sadistic thought entered his mind, his lips curling upwards.

“You want to try something new?” Jack asked, slightly guessing. You nodded, meeting his gaze. You vocalized a plea, Jack quick to flip you over. Your bare knees hit the dirt of the forest, the smell of the earth flooding your nostrils. Instinctively you went to arch your back, Jack stopping you by yanking you back by your shirt. “You might want to stay on all fours,” He purred in your ear, kissing your earlobe. He wrapped his belt around your neck, holding the metal buckle in his hand.

It cut off a decent portion of your airway, a groan escaping your lips at the sensation of being choked. “You’re into bondage now? Such a whore for me,” Jack chuckled darkly, stroking his cock. He rubbed his tip up and down your folds, trying to lubricate his cock as best as possible. Despite how drenched you got every time he was around, you always struggled to accommodate his size. And every single time it sent Jack into a frenzy, determination to make it fit ensuing.

He glanced up at the sky, the sun rising very faintly in the distance. “We don’t have very long, be a good girl and take it,” Jack snarled, shoving himself inside of you. You felt your body being split in two, his spare hand snaking down to your clit. He rubbed circles around the sensitive bud, trying to relax your body as much as possible. “You wanna be good for me don’t you slut? Relax for me,” He huffed, bottoming out inside of you. You were tense, grabbing handfuls of leafs and dirt.

He could feel you spasm around him as you struggled to accommodate to his size, whimpering as your vision became hazy. After what felt like forever to Jack, he could feel your body relax. “There we go, such a good girl for me aren’t you?” Jack purred in satisfaction. He pulled back his hips, taking himself out of you. He then brought himself back inside, pleased to hear the sound of you letting out a choked out moan. He continued to swirl around your clit, his thrust becoming faster.

You felt light headed as the leather pressed against your throat, choking on the sinful noises that echoed through out the forest. “Fuck, if I had known letting you into Slender’s forest would’ve gotten you so hot and bothered, I would’ve done it a long time ago,” Jack panted, his cock abusing your g spot. You were seeing stars, each thrust sending you into orbit. “Taking me so well, just like a good mate should,” He growled. His grip on the belt tightened, your airway temporarily cut off.

His thrust became more animalistic, the gears in his head turning. The savage and primal instinct washed over him, his coherent thoughts now vanished. Instead they were replaced with one thought and one thought only:

Breed breed breed.

“Fuck, you’re going to look so pretty with my cum leaking from that pretty cunt of yours,” Jack snarled. He released the belt, the leather flying forward and onto the ground. His large hands instead grabbed your waist, squeezing the flesh so harshly you swore you’d have bruise in the shape of his fingers. “Jack, fucking shit,” You moaned, his thrust merciless and brutal. He showed no sign of stopping, no sign of slowing. You could feel a familiar knot form in your stomach, one that Jack had made more times than you could count.

“I can feel you getting close for me. Need you to cum for me, need to fill you,” Jack huffed, holding back his own orgasm. Your back arched as you fell further forward, the side of your face pressed against the dirt. The sun was beginning to rise, your thighs trembling. “Jack I-,” You mewled, your orgasm washing over you like a ton of bricks. Jack couldn’t resist himself, fucking you through your orgasm. His hips began to stutter, the demon screwing his eyes shut as he came deep inside of you.

Dazed, you continued to hold your ass up in the air as Jack pulled out of you. The sight of his cum seeping out of your cunt was divine. With two fingers he scooped up the dripping cum, pushing it back inside of you, ignoring your whimpers. Gently he guided you onto his lap, wiping the dirt off of your face with his thumb. The sun began rising, the beams of sunlight dancing in between the trees as they hit the forest floor.

Jack could hear your heart rate begin to turn to normal as you inhaled deeper breaths. “Cmon, gotta get you dressed before the others get back from their hunt,” Jack murmured encouraging, readjusting your bra to fit you correctly. Still in a daze, you leaned your head against Jacks shoulder, allowing him to redress you. A small breeze blew past the two of you, the faint smell of blood hitting Jacks nose. He was sure the other creeps would be back any moment now, their kills fresh blood still staining their skin and clothes.

Quickly he dressed himself, scooping you into his arms. You had never been picked up bridal style before, instinctively you nuzzled your head against Jacks chest. Making sure you both had everything, Jack quickly looked around, noticing your shattered phone. He began walking towards the mansion, taking note you were beginning to drift off.

“Yeah, I think it’s time you met Ben. He owes you a new phone anyways.”

#eyeless jack x y/n #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack smut #eyeless jack x reader #jeff the killer x eyeless jack #eyeless jack x jeff the killer #eyeless jack #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta lemon #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta smut #creepypasta

[professional-sephiroth-scrungler]

I finally finished rebirth! Here is my unsolicited review cause i don’t want to melt my brother’s ear drums with my rambling

First off, Rebirth is a wonderful game. It’s not perfect by any means but it’s still great. The graphics are stunning, the soundtrack is absolutely amazing, and all the issues i had with story flow and confusion in the OG are basically fixed.

Story: I’ve got so much to say but thats mostly theories so i’ll keep it brief. I love where they are taking things. They’ve done a wonderful job of blending the OG story with the new stuff and the new directions its going. We arent really gonna full know whats happening until its all wrapped up but I am here for it!

Gameplay: its a good improvement on what they did for the first part. I however, have slow reflexes with the bumper and trigger buttons so they milliseconds they give you to block for immunity is not great for me. Dodging around is really fun though

Side quests/world intel: the side quests and world intel are hit or miss for me. Most of the stuff that doesn’t enhance the story, give lore, or deepen character relationships feels like a chore sometimes. Getting all the lifesprings, phenomenons, summon alters, and intel fights is repetitive and annoying sometimes but its easy to fall into the groove of if you have something playing in the background for the dull bits and running around the world to get to another story/side story beat.

Characters: Wonderful, amazing, exceptionally characterized. The nuances of the cast have been fleshed out a lot and it’s great. Even with their limited screen time, Vincent and Cid have so much substance and i am extremely excited to see where the story takes them. No, i am not ignoring one character in particular, what do you mean? None of the characters have made me seethe and mald at all and make me want to stop playing because of how annoying they are! And im definitely not afraid of the wrath my opinion of the character will bring if i say who! … Fuck it.

Yuffie: Yuffie definitely has more character than in OG and has sure been fleshed out since Intergrade… In the sense they took the happy go lucky, hyper, materia obsessed kid and multiplied it by 1000. It doesn’t help that she is also inserted into situations she 100% does not belong in. What could have been bonding moments for Aerith, Tifa, Barret, or Nanaki, what would’ve fit well in those situations, have Yuffie instead. And it seems her story is not until part 3 so why is she here so much? During tense or sad moments, she says stuff that ruins the vibe or is just irritating. Many time, she would say something during the story, and right after i would think that the moment would’ve been 10 times better if she was not inserting herself into it. Sometimes it feels like the writers are partially writing her as the main character when in the OG, she was an optional side character. Its not to say its all bad, she can have some funny moments. Except those where near when she just joins the party and the more those “silly moments” happen, the more grating they become. I hope that whenever her story arc happens in part 3 or a dlc (god i hope not a dlc the game is already $70), she has some growth and mellows back at least a bit. But who knows, maybe this is just a personal thing and she is actually a fine character. If you like her, thats fine. In the end, her character just isn’t for me and i just dont understand. These were just things that annoyed me personally and if you are fine or like how much more Yuffie there is in the remake trilogy, thats perfectly ok. Anyways

Expectations vs Reality: my only real gripe with the advertising is around Sephiroth and him being called a “protagonist” and supposedly us learning more about him in some english translations ive seen of interviews. I don’t quite understand where the protagonist thing came from. He is still very much the penultimate antagonist. But i expected to at least be able to read some in the manor about his childhood and play as him in combat a bit more. Maybe some TFS promo material got mixed up in my brain. If not, the best i can come up with from where the protagonist thing came from is that Sephiroth believes he is the protagonist, that he is doing the right thing, that he is the hero saving the planet and all other worlds through his twisted vision. And i guess through that, we have learned a lot about his motivations now and how he currently sees things. Not the backstory stuff i was hoping fore, but still really cool to see and analyze.

Over all, i would say Rebirth is an 8.5/10 for me. Some stuff dragged, was fluffed out a bit much in parts and such but over all a great game!

Actually, no. Sephiroth didn’t fast ball a materia at us in the basement. Maybe that will happen in Part 3. But that loss makes it a 0/10. RIP baseballiroth

#final fantasy 7 #ffvii #ff7 #final fantasy vii #ff7r #ffvii rebirth #ffvii rebirth review #my thoughts #final fantasy vii rebirth #mostly serious review except for the last part #please dont come for my throat yuffie fans #ff7 rebirth #final fantasy 7 rebirth #final fantasy vii remake #ffvii remake #review

[i-write-shakespeare-not-disney]

F, G, H????

F- (funnily enough considering G's question, though this was the first letter, it's the last one I'm answering because I had a crisis about it.) so these asks are really bringing it to my attention that I am very hard on myself lmfao. I haven't expressed pride so much as a steadfast decision. Mostly the pivotal dialogue scenes I write make me overthink and I ask advice for polishing it, so I can never claim to be particularly proud so much as relieved. Though, after thinking really really hard, I have two dialogue scenes that I'm very proud of the result for. I'll just put one here, but if you want the other feel free to ask for F again <3

From The Boys Back Home:

“Of course I believe you,” Rody whispered, his voice low and shaky. His voice broke, and with it, so did Izuku’s heart. “You put absolutely everything you’ve got into everything you do. I’m the lucky one here.” He squeezed Izuku’s forearms as he closed his eyes, leaving more rebellious tears to slide down and curve around Izuku’s thumbs. “I’m just scared, Izuku. I wanna be enough for you. I want you to have everything you want, I want you to be happy. I wanna give you reasons to stay in this mess. I….” Rody sighed, his whole posture slouching slightly. He opened his eyes, stormy gray gaze settling gently on Izuku. “I love you so much, Izuku….” 

The words pulled all the breath from Izuku’s lungs. Distantly, he could hear the panicked chirping from the cage, and somewhere was a drum beating a frantic, thunderous rhythm. But Izuku’s world had narrowed down to the beautiful, tragic expression on Rody’s face. Victory and defeat danced on his features, a new tranquility in his smile and his eyes, but his grip on Izuku was vicious, the tension in his body turning him rigid. 

I chose this one because when I started this fic, I think I also expected to have Izuku be the first to say I love you. And as someone who resonates with Rody regarding being the eldest, carrying the responsibility of raising them, and just kind of being on his own for so long without someone to depend on who won't just disappear, I think that it spoke volumes for him to be the first to say I love you. And I think this is the softest, kindest, calmest I love you I've ever written. I always try to make "I love you" unique in every ship and every fic, but this one came very naturally as I was writing. I felt that it didn't have to be this desperate thing or frantic declaration. It didn't have to be shouted or said in panic in the middle of an argument. Everything Rody says up to that point is vulnerable and it all accumulates to that soft, accepting, undeniable little "I love you so much." And I'd like to think that after reading it, when you go back and reread, you can pick up on all those moments where Rody feels that love or acts on it. And I love that it surprises and excites Izuku all the same.

G- I normally write from start to finish just because I don't want to have something in one scene and then completely have to change it because of something I write in an earlier scene that I wrote after if that makes sense. But if I'm so anxious to get one particular scene written out that it's making me rush or making me get stuck earlier, then I put brackets and write the scene im dying to do first then go back and connect wherever i stopped and the scene i was looking forward to (I actually did this with The Boys Back Home!)

H- Oh gosh oh gosh, that's hard!!! I have no idea how I'd describe my own writing, and I'd actually love to know how others would describe it skdjfaks ummm I guess. My style is definitely emotion driven and typically full of yearning for that sense of belonging in some way.

#phoenix speaks #ask phoenix

[jemshopes]

Joseon Era Namseok

--Namseok Prompt

Namjoon is the son of an important family, very rich, very high social standing. When he gets older he'll be set to continue the family bloodline, inherit the money, do important stuff.

Hoseok, on the other hand, is poor. His family have to scrape by and often go hungry because they don't have money. 

But despite these vast differences, the two of them meet as kids and become fast friends. Namjoon smuggles food to Hoseok all the time.They play together in secret. And they grow up together and... Well, let's just say it's not exactly platonic, but maybe Namseok haven't figured that out yet. 

They're about 17-18 years old when Namjoon’s father finds out about them and bans Namjoon from ever seeing Hoseok again. He puts Namjoon under house arrest. When Namjoon does go out, he must be chaperoned at all times (let's just say even though Namseok may not have figured out they're a little more than platonic, Namjoon’s father isn't blind. And he's not happy about what he sees). He also gets Hoseok's family sent away from the city, effectively separating Namseok by hundreds of miles. For all Namjoon knows, Hoseok could be dead. He's only told they're gone and he'll never see his "friend" (*wink wink*) again.

And so years pass. Namjoon grows up. He's a scholar, he studies diligently, he's all set to get married and do all that stuff straight people in the olden days did. 

Until one night he takes a stroll through the city streets. He likes to do this to clear his head. That's when he sees the posters for a performance that's taking place and he hears the crowd and the beat of drums. And so he pays and goes in because why not? He has time to kill. 

He manages to get himself a place quite close to the front, but not so close that he's conspicuous or anything like that. He likes to be just in the middle. Not really an important detail, but anyway—When he gets there the performance has already begun and it's good, he likes it. He's always enjoyed this kind of thing.

He catches a glimpse of one of the performers faces. And it's Hoseok. Grown up, ethereal, beautiful Hoseok. Like... 😌fiiiiine Hoseok, yanno what im sayin’? You've seen him dance, I don't need to go into detail.

Hoseok sees Namjoon too and their eyes meet and they share this moment of recognition, but Hoseok doesn't falter in his dance. And so Namjoon is sort of left in agony the whole performance wondering if Hoseok really keeps looking at him or if it's just his imagination.

BUT THEN the performance is over and people are filtering away, and Namjoon is just waiting, waiting for Hoseok to reappear because if Hoseok doesn't reappear Namjoon may have to tear apart every building in the city to find him. You know, just normal platonic friendship things.

He's craning his neck, very undignified and desperate-looking, at the front of the stage when someone taps him on the shoulder and he turns and oh my god, Hoseok is as tall as him and he's still dressed in his outfit from the performance. And they just hug so hard (in a totally platonic way. Totally) and they spend the whole night talking even though Namjoon is supposed to go home, but who cares about home when Hoseok is right in front of him again???

They tell each other all about their lives and what's been going on since they were separated. Hoseok's parents have passed, but he and his siblings have thrived. He, in particular, has clearly thrived. He's been travelling with the performers for a few years now.

And... well... Namjoon has to break the news to Hoseok that Namjoon is gonna get married soon. Some arranged marriage to a woman he doesn't care for. Honestly, Namjoon’s life hasn't changed that much—he's still in the same place he was when they were separated. Under his father’s thumb. 

Hoseok looks positively heartbroken to hear this news, but neither of them acknowledge that. And Hoseok just tells Namjoon he's going to be in the city for another month performing, so Namjoon should come visit whenever he can.

Of course Namjoon does, that's his very extremely platonic no homo bro bestie. He goes to see him EVERY NIGHT. And the long and the short of it is, about halfway through the month they do a little something-something that's not very platonic of them…And the next day Hoseok says Namjoon should run away with him when the performers leave the city. And Namjoon says he can't. And so there's pain and angst and they fall out. The performers leave. Namjoon's wedding is just around the corner. And he just realises he's the biggest idiot in the world. Like why is he marrying some random woman when the person he wants is Hoseok? Pure dumbassery.

And so he chases after Hoseok. And then he runs away with the performers and it's cute and they live happily ever after and stuff.

#bts #bts aus #bts fanfic #namjoon x hoseok #namseok #namseok au #kim namjoon #jung hoseok #angst #forbidden love #young love

[shadowofmoths]

top 5 geoff moments! top 5 thursday song moments (like lyrics, vocals,musical bits etc) too! and i would love if u shared ur bandcamp friday purchases :D

anon i love you sm for this . lets hold hands .

rq my bandcamp purchases thus far are two cds, bikini kill's the first two records aaaaand ghost quartet cd which i didnt know existed & am kind of losing it over im so excited i love ghost quartet myfriend ghost quartet?? anywya s. considering also getting ls dunes and pinkshift cds but ive already spent. a lot of money for my brain's comfort so maybe not lol.

putting the rest of the answer under a cut so i can ramble w/o worrying too much aslkdjfh:

ok . this is gonna be in like, no particular order, and also by "top 5" its gonna be "top 5 tihngs i can think of in 10 mins or less bc otherwise ill never answer this ask" so like . sorry if i forget the obvious answers or anything.

top 5 geoff moments: 1.

2. literally like, tricking/forcing tim and andrew to be in his band . this shit makes me lose it every time its so funny.

3. one time he said my art was "v nice" on twitter that was a pretty big win for me personally

4. going to a bajillion nine inch nails concerts & collecting like, broken guitar tuning pegs and shit from the shows and keeping them. geoff is to me what trent reznor is to geoff tbh. also the fact that he got to interview trent for like a "who inspires you" thing or smth like that but trent wasnt able to actually make it and then the person taking photos from the interview was like. "oh geoff hes super cool youd really like him." but then they didnt actually meet and did the interview online. thats an underrated geoff poor little meow meow moment honestly.

5. idk im a big fan of him sort of adopting a stray cat and calling her lola. i . yeah. <333

top 5 thursday moments: ok so funny i had to pause my war all the time cd to think thru this adslfjh

this is specific but clapping along to understanding in a car crash . its . i jsut. i . yeah. and the little two-beat drum thing the real quick little dun-dun at the very beginning? GODDD. yeah. tucker rule you aer everything TO ME.

2. the little spoken word part in paris in flames ohh my god . and the guitar part behind it? EATS IT WHOLE.

3. im so addicted to the transition btwn introduction/streaks in the sky it makes me full-body rock back and forth every TIME its so good

4. turnpike divides myfriend......... the screaming that kicks in on the chorus......dont wanna be a self medicator but its hard to sleep when youre born to run....all roads are pointing home again....YEAH.

5. when geoff introduces signals over the air live and does his silly little dance moves and says this song is called SIGNALS. OVER. THE AIR. that shit is so magical To me.

THIS GOT SO LONG BUT ANON I OWE U MY LIFE THANK U FOR THE QUESTIONS <3333

#asks #anonymous #thursday

[hongism]

touch of the devil - k.hongjoong 18+

↣ pairing: hongjoong x fem!reader | ao3 version (mxm seongjoong) ↣ genre: angst, fluff if you SQUINT, nsfw, fantasy, supernatural, demon!hongjoong, emo rocker!hongjoong, there do be plot tho. ↣ wc: 9.0k ↣ summary: you came to make a deal with a devil sure, but this is the last thing you were expecting out of a night in a dingy bar. ↣ warnings: explicit smut, mention of death, demons, it’s actually really heavy on plot and angst and less focused on the smut ↣ a/n: again i know it’s my birthday but this is my present to you guys, i am a person who prefers to give rather than receive on my birthday and this was the first thing i wanted to work on during my hiatus!! i’ve got so much inspo and motivation rn that it’s crazy and i can’t wait to have everything all set out for you guys when im back :3

﹊    ﹊    ﹊

Everything about the air around you is heady and thick in a way that chokes you as you step through the fogged bar. This isn’t your sort of scene – not one you would typically find yourself frequenting on a Friday evening without even so much as the company of a friend – and yet here you stand with hands pressed into the pockets of your black leather jacket. There remains a dull thrum in the atmosphere of the club, a steady rhythm of bass and vibrations that makes your ears ring but you do your best to ignore it in favor of reaching the bartender.

“Just a rum and coke please,” you murmur, hand sneaking out of your pocket to lay a few bills flat against the wood counter. You tug your ID card out as well and flash it in the man’s direction when he raises an eyebrow at you, but upon seeing it, he relents and steps away from you to get the drink.

The question remains of why exactly you are in such a dismal and hopeless scene full of people too drunk off their rockers to even fumble around the bar with some sense of dignity. You, who is neither dismal or hopeless yourself nor are you drunk in the slightest (at least not yet).

The answer is simple. This is a breeding ground, a festering cesspool of desires and greed, and it is the prime place to find what you are looking for in terms of deals with the devil. Maybe not one specific devil, but certainly whatever demon you can get your hands on tonight. And you have quite the lot to choose from it seems, because as you glance around the neon-lit building, you can spot many pairs of red eyes glinting under the lights. You know you have no right to be picky — any and all of them will get the job done — but you can’t help but to note that none of them are as appealing as you imagined they would be. When your friend said that these demons thrived off of lust and appeal, you figured that meant they would purposefully up the ante in terms of physical appearances.

The disdain must show on your features as the bartender begins to speak again as he sets your drink down before you on the counter.

“None of them are for you,” he utters, and you twist back to look him in the eye.

“What do you mean?” You inquire, chin tilting to the side in question, and the man huffs out a small laugh.

“They have their prey already. Picked ‘em the second they walked through the door. All it takes is one look to figure out what these needy people crave from them, what appearances they need to take, what voices to use, what outfits to wear. For people like you, though, something more is required before the real games begin.” He points a single bony finger at your face, staring you down over the length of his digit like it’s the barrel of a gun, and that has you shifting in your seat a bit.

“Something… more?”

“One must have a particular level of certainty before coming to make a deal with a demon, ma’am. But you — you don’t seem to truly know what it is you want. And for that reason, the King will see you with no ruses or deception.”

On the contrary, I wouldn’t have dared set foot in here if I didn’t know what it is I wanted, you want to say. However, your attention is held rapt by his final sentence, the one that held unspoken promise to it.

“And by that you mean physical alterations?”

“You catch on quickly, Miss.” The man leans forward, tongue darting out to swipe over his lower lip, and you glance over the motion only once before pushing away from the counter. He notes the slight annoyance in your features a moment later. “The King will like you quite a bit.”

“When can I expect for this ‘King’ to present himself?” You prop an elbow up on the counter and give one last forlorn glance around the bar in the hopes that someone will come over your way, but it’s to no avail.

“Patience, human. The show hasn’t even begun yet.” He motions towards the middle of the bar, the starkly empty space with a glossy stage set in the center with only a microphone held delicately in its stand and nothing else. You had been hoping to make this a speedy trip — a quick in and out with your deal made and nothing else — but it seems you won’t be having that luxury. And it is a bit frustrating, honestly, to come to this place with the expectation of having a demon cater to you and your wants only to be told that you aren’t certain enough for these supernatural beings, so you’ll have to wait on a demon who won’t cater to you or come to you immediately.

You take a quick swig of your alcohol with the desperate hope that perhaps drinking will make you more certain of what you want, although you already know it won’t. The bartender offers a shrug in response to your annoyance then pulls away to tend to other customers, and you take it as an invitation to swivel in your stool and face the stage. It’s still fucking empty, but at least it gives you a better view than the old wood of the counter that now sits under your elbows.

“Leave it to men to make me wait on them, demon or not,” you mutter under your breath, breath fogging the side of your glass a bit.

You nearly choke on the liquid inside in your next breath because the swirling red neon lights come to a halt on the center of the stage, and the suddenness of the shifting lights startles you so much that you have to sit up straight and inhale deeply to keep from coughing on the alcohol in your mouth. The hazed mist hovering above the floor of the bar seems to swirl towards the stage under the beams of light. You watch the movements as though in a trance, slowly leaning forward until your elbows come to rest on your knees. Out of everyone in the bar, you seem to be the only one interested in what’s going on at the center of the room. Mind you, everyone else is preoccupied: demons with their humans, and humans with the mask-wearing demons who cater to their desires. And while you have no reason to be so intrigued by the scene before you, you truly cannot bring yourself to look away, especially as the dull thrum of music in the bar heightens and gains momentum.

There is no way of describing the sounds rumbling around you. Perhaps if you were fully in your senses, you would be able to distinguish the instruments and beats of the song, but the bass clogs your mind and leaves you squinting at the hazy stage. It could be poetic, the way a lone figure pushes his way through the crowds of the bar like he holds all the power in the universe, studded black leather jacket slung around his shoulders. And as the red lights come over him, you can see his features better. Dusty brown hair that shines a bit, one side exposed and cut shorter than the other, which has bangs that hang loose over the side of his face. Metal bars line both ears, another near the end of his left brow, and a final more intricate one that loops around the middle of his lip and connects to two long metal chains. You follow the path of those chains with your eyes, watching them trail downwards until they loop around his chest and disappear behind his jacket. It’s just a black turtleneck that he wears underneath the dramatic leather regalia and chains but somehow he makes the garment look expensive. You dare glance a bit lower, just enough to make out the frayed and distressed jeans that cling to his skin like a vice, leaving hints of enticing skin underneath to peek through. You can’t see his feet thanks to the fog, but you can practically hear his footsteps drumming in your ears with the rise and fall of his shoes.

Simply put, you are entranced by the sight of this man — if he can even be called that, because you wouldn’t find yourself at all surprised should he reveal himself to be a demon on the tail end of this encounter. He barely looks up from the floor on his trek to the stage, only stopping when he comes before the mic stand and exhales against it in a way that sends shivers down your spine. It’s hardly reasonable for any creature to hold your attention in the palm of his hand the way this one does, but there is no chance of you looking away now, especially as his voice begins to drawl through the microphone and coat your ears like honey. There are words, you recognize enough in the music to know that it should be a song you’re familiar with, but none of them truly process in your daze.

It’s all you can do to just sit there and watch his performance. Between the gentle sways of his shoulders and hips, the teasing drag of his tongue over his lower lip whenever there is a break in his lyrics, and the overall intoxicating nature his aura exudes, you are hooked on every breath he takes. You don’t realize how relaxed your body has become under his spell until it’s too late, and that happens to be the last note of the song as well. It is accentuated with the drop of the glass in your hand and a sharp shatter of the cup against the floor. And just as you inhale a startled gasp and break out of your reverie, his deep crimson eyes flicker over to find yours across the bar. Those twisting lips churn something ugly in your gut. You can’t find the strength in your body to move.

“Mine.”

Your heart leaps in your chest as the word leaves his lips, and while you can’t hear it grate against your ears, you can clearly read his lips enough to know what he’s saying.

His eyes glint a bit in the darkness. It shouldn’t leave you wanting more, but that bitter taste of curiosity is nipping at the back of your throat, and you are far too intrigued to turn back now. You just want more. If he seems to understand that at all from the gleam in your eyes, he makes good on it, stepping off the stage and letting his hand drag over the mic in a way that is almost tantalizing. Step after step, he comes closer to you with his lips still curled into a smirk, and the way the lights hit him makes him seem to glisten and glow in the darkness. You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until he breaches your personal space and you release a shaky exhale that seems to fog in the air between you. He stretches a hand out to close the space between your bodies and curls his index finger under your chin. The touch is simultaneously hot and cold — your whole body seems to light on fire under it, yet at the same time, the chill in your bones deepens to an alarming degree.

“What is it you desire above all other things?” You can hear him now, loud and clear, and whilst you heard his singing beforehand, the simple rasp and lilt to his regular tone is something that has you unashamedly weak in the knees. “I can give you everything,” he whispers as he presses closer to you. Your knees brush against his form but he keeps on pushing forward until he’s slotted himself between them. The chain hanging from his lips rattles like a chime, singing its unknown song like church bells in the night, although you are far from God and heaven now. “All you need to do is ask.”

You cling to some semblance of reason while you can, knowing full well that it will all leave you soon enough, but for now, it lets you choke out a single statement that has the demon before you laughing under his breath.

“That’s not how it works.”

“And who are you to tell me how it works?” His finger curls a bit harder at your chin, and you can feel the blunt of his nail scraping over your skin. Your eyes are glued to his, so enamored and consumed that you can’t even think to look anywhere else.

In that moment, it is as though the universe is nothing but a speck of dust in the corner of your vision. Something so raw and whole like the man standing before you is all-powerful and vigilant in a way that has every nerve in your body at full attention, ready for whatever his next step might be. And that turns out to be quite the curveball as it seems because he leans closer to you, breath intermingling with yours, and you subconsciously curve your back into his touch to reach him closer. Still, even though you physically show how ready and desperate for the touch you are, he waits and glances over your features.

“What is it you desire from me, human?”

You have to vehemently restrain yourself from simply saying ‘you’ and getting on with it.

“Your name.”

“Is that all you would have from me?” As a demon, it is his life’s work to know the inner-workings of the festering desires of humans. You have no doubt in your mind that he knows exactly what is it you want, even if you are not sure of it yourself, and you do not doubt that he won’t use that to his advantage either. But that’s what you asked for in coming here, and that is exactly what you both expected and wanted out of this.

Perhaps it is shameful, but just for once, you wanted to surrender control. Too often are you asked to have everything set out and planned and under control, and too often do you find yourself wanting someone to just tell you what it is you should do. That could be why the bartender labeled you as ‘uncertain’ because even in this moment of vulnerability, there is still the thinnest thread of thought tethering you to that control. And as of now, you want nothing more than for this demon before you to break that thread.

“I would have your name before I asked for anything else from you. Calling you demon over and over would certainly wear out its welcome, no?”

“That all depends on the context, my dear. But… you can call me Hongjoong, if that’s suitable to your tongue.”

“Hongjoong,” you try, testing the way the name rolls off your tongue in such a delicate manner that the demon before you flutters his lashes a bit.

“Sounds so pretty coming from lips so innocent.” He tilts his head to the side, and the movement flashes the pretty expanse of skin below his jaw. You aren’t shy in the way you let your gaze slip over it before trailing back up to meet his eyes again. “Would you close your eyes for me, doll?” He doesn’t have to ask. He could just make you do so with no resistance but still, he asks as though you could say no if you wanted to. You don’t though, and as such, your eyelids fall shut and your vision turns to black for the time being. “Do you know who I am?”

“Th-The bartender called you the King.”

“And do you understand what that means? Truly understand with every fiber of your being?” The question is heavy on your bones, and it is one that you feel like you should know the answer to yet you can’t find any response to his inquiry. Perhaps he means to confuse you because you hear the soft huff of a laugh fall from his lips. “King of the Underworld, Lord of the Dead. Some would call me Pluto, others Hades, it varies from religion to religion and in every culture. Sometimes I pick up rather banal and common names, other times I find myself seeking something extravagant and luxurious. Now… Hongjoong will be a good middle-ground for us.”

You should be falling to the floor in absolute shock due to his words, but the steady finger under your chin keeps you steady. That and the growing fear in your gut as you come to realize that this man holds so much power in just his pinky finger and could absolutely crush you under his heel whenever he wishes. What are you to a god besides an insignificant fleck of dust on the pavement?

“And what of your appearance? Is that… manifested as well?” You dare to ask.

“I have many faces, yes, but this one is one I wear boldly and frequently. You could say it is my natural form. After so many millennia of fantastical myths and legends, however, I’m sure that would seem odd to you.”

“Are you truly a demon then?”

“King of demons, yes. Whether I am truly a demon myself is something that could be ambiguous, I suppose, but if they are all part of my creations, then would that not make me one myself? Though you could say they are all fragments of my own being, making them all mythical gods. It’s all a matter of perspective; however, I doubt that you came searching this place for a lesson on perspectives.”

“No, I came for…” You trail off, and that blossoming uncertainty from before presents itself again.

“There are two things your heart wants right now. One, I can give you with ease and grace, only if you would allow it. That desire is a fleeting one, however, and I do not think it is what you are truly after in being here. The second… that is a wish I cannot deliver, and I think you are more than aware of that. The reason everyone left you to me is because of what you want. It is a domain only I could ever touch.”

You blink your eyes open in haste, searching his deep crimson gaze for some sort of confirmation of the words. The demon dares to look forlorn and lets his stare drop to the floor rather than looking you directly in the eye. Confusion blossoms in your gut. Yes, you figured there was a slim chance that your wish could not be granted, but still you clung to the desperate hope that maybe there was just a small window of opportunity for such a wish to be granted.

“Death is irreversible,” the demon, Hongjoong as he wishes to be called, says in a quiet tone. “I cannot give that which you want more than anything else.”

“Then what can you give?” You ask, squeezing your eyes shut as tight as possible to keep your emotions from slipping out the corners.

“One of two things: I can give you time to speak with him once more or I can make you forget the pain.”

“And if I choose the latter?”

“It would make you forget everything about him and leave you with no memory of him at all.” Hongjoong exhales a small sigh, the bouncing rhythms of the bass rumbling against your ears along with the sounds of his breaths. “You need not decide right this instant. The payment will be the same either way, so we can settle that first if you’d like.”

“W-Wait,” you stammer. You dare to open your eyes once more. “How would I be able to speak to him if you can’t bring him back?”

“I cannot bring him back the way you want. He… he is gone, and though I am the King of the Dead, there are powers even I do not have. Bringing him back to life is impossible, but I can create a doorway for the two of you to speak through for a short period of time. I have no control over how long it would be, just a forewarning. That is all up to him and his willingness to see you.”

“I can’t imagine he wouldn’t want to see me,” you murmur, but the pang in your chest tells you otherwise.

“Sometimes, death and the underworld change fundamental parts of people. They are no longer alive, after all, and as such, those human vices and personality traits dissipate. How you knew him in life could be vastly different than the spirit who now resides in my domain. It is all a matter of weighing risks, my dear. What matters most to you? Remembering him or him remembering you?”

“So if I ask to see him, I would remember him but there’s a chance that he would have no recollection of me? And should I ask to forget, there will be no way of knowing whether he remembers me in the afterlife or not?”

“Precisely.”

That is a hefty bargain to weigh. It is almost too much for your shoulders just to think about it. One is starkly more selfish than the other, but if he’s dead, what good will selflessness do you? It won’t bring him back, that’s for sure. Either you are left with the painful realization that he does not have any memory of you in the afterlife, or you forget it all to avoid that pain. Maybe thinking about the payment before deciding would be a good idea after all.

“As for the payment? How many years do I owe you?” Demons have no use for human currency or trinkets that could be traded for favors. You can barter the only thing you have — years of life. Whether it shortens your lifespan or turns you into a personal slave for a certain amount of time, that is a price you must be willing to pay for such services. You are more than prepared to barter it all off right now if need be.

“None,” Hongjoong answers coolly, and you quirk a brow upwards at the nonchalance in his tone. “I do not deal in years of life. Not often, at least. My abilities are bound in… passion. Lovemaking, fornication, sex, fucking – whatever you wish to call it. Of course, it wouldn’t have to be that exactly, should you not desire that. The other option is a blood pact, a ritual that would take hours to complete, although both could take quite some time depending on your stamina.” There’s a breath of silence that allows Hongjoong’s lips to twist into a suggestive grin, and heat brushes the base of your neck as you fight off waves of embarrassment. “I cannot guarantee that the blood pact would be painless. With sex, I could at least provide some comfort that the pain would only be temporary; however, the choice is yours. Both are binding and would mean that you could never make a deal with another demon again, and you would be marked as mine for eternity.”

“What does being yours entail?”

“Nothing diabolical or unsavory, I promise. Just… when the time comes for you to pass on and join the Underworld, you would take a place at my side.”

“How many people have you laid claim to? Did they all agree to the same terms? How can I trust your word?” The questions tumble from your lips without relent.

“For what you desire, the cost is far less than what I would usually ask for. Those lucky enough to deal with me in the past paid less for their debts. The blood pact… the fornication… both are binding elements. The real cost is your service. Most have agreed to give me their servitude in the afterlife, all with their own places in my domain. That is what you would be offering as well. You will live just as long as you would without making this deal but make up for it after your death.”

“And that’s it?”

Hongjoong’s eyes twinkle a bit under the lights above your heads.

“What did you expect from me, doll? Savagery? Unfairness? Everyone deserves a fair price for what they want, regardless of station in life or status in society.”

“Deal,” you utter without any more hesitation, blinking up into Hongjoong’s dark orbs. There lies a lingering sense of regret in your gut, one that you cannot chase away no matter how hard you try, but you do not need to dwell on it any longer.

“And how would you like to bind our deal, my dear? Neither can be handled immediately. The blood pact requires special preparations for the ritual, but the other — I would not have you in such a place as dirty as this.”

“I-I, um, sex will work just fine,” you bite out, the skin of your cheek caught between your teeth.

“Then when the time comes that you are ready with your decision on what it is you truly want, all you need to do is take this—” Hongjoong retracts his hand from where it rests gently against the column of your throat and digs into one of his pockets. He pulls out a gilded card, one that is black and gold with flecks of red across the surface, but there are no other adornments to the material. “Tear it in half and it will bring you to our meeting place, and I will join you there to seal the deal. Should you decide that you do not want this after all, then all you need to do is burn the card. The decision lies in your hands, and yours alone.” He has to lift one of your limp hands and forcefully place the card into your waiting palm, closing his fingers around yours to make you cling to the item.

“I – th-thank you,” you stammer as you blink from your closed hand to Hongjoong’s features.

“The pleasure is all mine, doll.”

Those are the last words you hear from the demon before he slips away from you, the dense fog lingering in the air swirling up around his body, and within moments, his shadowy form disappears entirely from sight. The air grows cold around you once more. You are left with only the fleeting desire for that warmth to return, for you to feel less alone than you are in that moment, and even if it’s the briefest visit ever you just want one last chance to tell your lost lover how you feel without mistakes this time.

///

The night, as per usual, is cold and unforgiving. It allows for too many opportunities to be alone with lost feelings and thoughts. It has been weeks (if not months) since you visited that dingy club and your fateful meeting with none other than the King of the Dead. Yet you are still here, wallowing in the memories that you’ve been left to suffer with alone, and the gilded black card sits in your nightstand untouched. You open the drawer just to stare at it from time to time, when the nights are particularly rough, and it already had begun collecting a thin layer of dust the last few times you looked at it.

It isn’t that you haven’t made your decision about what you want from your deal with Hongjoong. The more terrifying fact is that you are fully aware of what it is you want, and you simply cannot rectify the guilt that comes along with the pure selfishness of your decision. The feeling is so potent that it swarms your every thought. You know it wouldn’t be an issue once you meet with Hongjoong; the demon will take it all away and leave you with nothing. You won’t even know enough to be guilty any longer, but the pain of committing to the decision is strong enough to make you sick to your stomach.

Wooyoung — the one who suggested you go to the club and make the deal in the first place — will not shut up about how worried he is about you. You won’t recall the deal or why you made it, so what’s holding you back? A temporary guilt that won’t exist longer than a few seconds once you’re actually in Hongjoong’s presence? As he said, you just need to swallow the feeling and get on with it. Prolonging the regrets any longer won’t do you any good.

You huff out a quiet laugh in the silence of your darkened room. The black gilded card taunts you again now, gleaming up at you through the shadows with its faint hints of gold and red. Maybe Wooyoung is right and the only way to get rid of missed opportunities is to forget about them entirely. Yeosang was but a chapter in your life, one that is past and gone now, and as Hongjoong said, there is no reversing death. Seeing him one last time won’t give you anything but pain.

You stretch a shaky hand towards the card in the drawer. It’s cold to the touch, dust billowing up with even the slightest touch of your fingers. You have to dig your nail under the material to pull it up, and once it’s safely set in your palm, you drag your thumb over the surface to brush the dirt away. No words on the surface, no sign that it has been touched by a demon, and not even a hint as to what it could possibly be for.

It is surprisingly flexible, at least moreso than you would have imagined, and you give it a few testing bends to see how easy it would be to break. Hongjoong simply gave you the instruction to tear it in half and that was all. You don’t expect him to suddenly materialize before you on a whim, but surely such a creation is bound by some sort of magic on his part. It is hard enough to believe that demons are real living creatures, but magic as well? Maybe you’ve passed on and just don’t realize it yet. Still, you exhale one last huff of air into the darkness before letting your eyes flutter shut. Taking the card between your hands, you begin to slowly rip the material until it separates with the force, torn in two mismatched pieces.

Nothing fantastical happens.

That fact alone is so overwhelmingly disappointing that you really think for a moment that Hongjoong was just some goth rocker in a stoner bar who pulled an elaborate trick on you. It can’t be too difficult to get your hands on some weird red-toned contacts and weave some elaborate story about being the King of Hell. You could do that yourself. Why did you think he was incapable of such a charade?

Because he knew what you wanted without you having to say it.

Yes, well, Wooyoung claimed that your regrets and grief were evident in your features every time he looked at you. Maybe Hongjoong could see it as well.

You fall back onto your bed, flattening your back against the mattress with a small shout of frustration. The urge to cry is strong; if you’ve spent all these weeks uselessly worrying over something that could all be a farce, you don’t even know how you would react. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, blinking away the tears that blossom in the corners there as best you can. The rolling emotions in your system distract you from the sudden shift in temperature, and before you know it heat washes over you and fills the void of cold in your body. You jerk but refuse to sit up quite yet, eyes flying open in your shock only to choke on air as a bright golden light fills your vision and swarms you with warmth. The cushion under your body doesn’t feel the same either; it is not your bed, it’s too plush and soft, too warm under you, and you feel like you are absolutely drowning in the sensation.

Gold flickers above you, twinkling lights that glisten like small stars above you, and the ceiling is so dark that you nearly think it’s just an opening to the night sky. You sit up in a mad panic. The gold and red decorations littering the far too lavish room barely process in your vision as you look for a way out, and you don’t even see the figure coming up along your side until he’s upon you. A hand stretches out to brush over your forehead. You nearly shriek in your state of terror, but the sound is all but stolen from your lungs instead.

“It’s only me, doll. You’re safe.”

Hongjoong. Ah, Hongjoong. Then… he was telling the truth. It wasn’t a farce or a deception meant to be a game. He claimed to be the Devil Incarnate, and here he stands before you in a room too rich and exquisite for words. You can’t find it in you to think he’s lying now.

You dare to glance up and meet his gaze, finding it so soft on your face that you have the audacity to blush under his stare despite the things you’ll be doing with him soon enough.

“Have you made your decision then?” He asks, tone soft and light. It isn’t one that demands an immediate answer. You know he could ask what took you so long to decide, complain about your hesitance, say that you kept him waiting for far too long — instead, he exudes patience with you, hand slowly combing over your forehead down to your cheek and brushing over the skin there with a touch so featherlight that you almost don’t realize it’s there at all.

“I-I have,” you whisper like the two of you aren’t the only ones in the room and it’s a secret meant only for your ears.

“What would you have from me first then? As I told you before, the payment is the same regardless of your decision, and as such, we can bind the deal first if you’d rather.”

You swallow around nothing. There is no harm in going through with the decision now, but your nerves are so frazzled and out of sorts that you almost desire the sex simply as a means of stress relief. Hongjoong steps in front of you, fully coming into view, and you are shocked at how… mundane he looks. You blink fervently at the man — demon, rather — and take in the gentle part of his hair, the soft glow of his skin that makes him look simply ethereal under this light. He hardly looks like a demon to you; his features are too smooth and perfect for that, from the curves of his lips to the even line of his nose. Although you suppose that’s all he wants you to see, yet it still seems oddly intimate to a certain degree.

“You aren’t worried that I’ll try to run away after my wish is fulfilled?” You ask. Hongjoong arches his brows at you, and his neutral expression slips into one of momentary shock.

“Where are you going to go, my dear? I brought you to this place, and you will need me to send you back once we’re done here.”

It sinks in at that moment how you are completely at his mercy right now. Not that you had any plans of running away, but the question was moreso just to test the waters, see if he is truly as merciful as his features make him out to be. The underlying danger in his tone proves your point and sends a chill down your spine.

“Is that something I ought to be worried about, doll? Should I claim you now to make sure you keep your end of the bargain?” The question sits on your ear like warm honey. It chokes you, fills your senses with Hongjoong’s scent, and you almost find yourself leaning into his curling lips before catching yourself. That seems to pique his interest in the very least, and his smile twists a bit more. “The decision is in your hands as always. I won’t do anything you don’t give me explicit permission to do.”

“Permission granted,” you mutter before catching a hand on Hongjoong’s collar. “Do it all.” You aren’t too worried about damaging his clothes as he’s not wearing anything drastically fancy or expensive-looking, and thus you twist your fist into a ball around the fabric of his black tee and yank him down to your height. He bends at the waist, hands catching on the mattress before his forehead can smack hard against yours. There’s a bit of tension in his neck, and that keeps him far enough back so that he doesn’t kiss you quite yet. It’s almost as though he is waiting for something else, eyes carefully tracing your features with great care before he settles on your lips, and a sharp inhale of breath follows before that thin line in his composure snaps.

His lips hit yours with a surprising amount of force, and the kiss isn’t at all what you were expecting — well, to be more accurate, you aren’t quite sure what you were expecting in the first place. It’s much more pleasant than you could have imagined though, and Hongjoong isn’t shy with the touch at all. His tongue is quick to swipe over your lower lip, hands darting upwards to brush over your sides before reaching your face, and he brings a knee down on the mattress to support his weight as he leans over you. You follow the motion when he pushes forward and lean back until you have no choice but to scoot back on the bed. Hongjoong moves with you with the same amount of fervor, still pressed to your lips without relent, and you don’t even think to stop as he completely drapes himself over your body, knees still up and supporting his weight. The cushion of the mattress dips by your head, a telltale sign that he’s placed his hands there, and you use that as your opportunity to stop for air. Hongjoong surely has no need to breathe like you do since he is undead, but he still pants above you, chest heaving as a pretty flush rises to his cheeks.

“Putting that much power in a demon’s hands is dangerous, is it not?” He mutters. You let your lashes flutter shut as he moves back to your lips, hot breath ghosting over your skin. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“I’ll tell you if it’s something I don’t like,” you murmur, opening an eye to peek at him. He meets your gaze with a soft laugh, but your answer seems to please him enough to bring his attention back to your lips. You inhale as his tongue breaches your mouth and pushes into the wet cavern inside. There’s no chance for you to fight back for any sort of dominance because he only thrusts deeper and coats the inside of your mouth with his taste until you can feel his tongue brushing over your palate. A quiet moan reverberates through your throat and against his lips. You feel the barest hint of a smile in the kiss, then his lips are suddenly gone from yours. You gasp for air with the freedom. Heat pools in the depths of your gut, a pleasant one that leaves you wanting more, and you aren’t sure if it’s simply been so long since you last had sex or if Hongjoong truly has that effect on you.

He returns to touching your body a moment later, hands trailing to the row of buttons on your nightshirt, and one by one, he pulls them apart until the material is barely clinging to your skin. His lips replace his fingers then. First at your jaw placing a wet trail of kisses and soft nips that leave you with goosebumps. Then he reaches the midpoint of your sternum and rests the flat of his tongue there, tasting and teasing your skin until you can do nothing but writhe under him because he is taking so damn long. Your impatience is laughable to him, as evidenced by the quiet huff of air that leaves him next.

“I want to taste every inch of you,” he mumbles against the skin of your stomach, hands pulling your nightshirt away to expose more of the skin underneath. He makes good on his words, and that damn tongue traces lower and lower until he reaches the band of your pants and underwear. You instinctively dart a hand down to tangle in his hair. “F-Fuck.” The curse slips out when you give an accidental tug to the hair close to his nape, and you nearly think that you’ve hurt him in some manner until you catch sight of the blissed-out expression on his features.

“D-Do you — can I…?”

“Do it harder while I eat you out,” he growls. His fingers close hard around the remainders of your close, and you don’t even have time to nod before he’s yanking both your pants and underwear down in one fell swoop. It leaves you more than a little exposed — you’re suddenly nearly nude before the demon who is still fully clothed, and that realization draws your thighs tight together in a sudden rush of embarrassment. You swallow hard around nothing, eyes darting away from Hongjoong’s prying gaze.

All of a sudden, he shrugs your hand off his hair and sits back on his heels. You don’t understand what his reasoning is until you settle your eyes back on his body. He’s leaned back to start stripping layers of clothes off in a rush, hands fumbling and struggling to pull them away in an orderly manner. There is no composure to his actions, only a hastened fervor that has him tossing his shoes far from the bed along with random articles of clothes until he’s laid fully bare before you. You really try your hardest not to glance down at his… you know, but the urge is overwhelming. Before you can even catch a glimpse, however, Hongjoong is on you again, hands latched around your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed as he kneels before you on the floor. The sudden movement has you squealing in surprise, and that noise is broken off into a startled moan when Hongjoong’s lips brush through your folds without warning.

“O-Oh god,” you gasp out. Hongjoong’s tongue gives a long and dragging pull through your heat, teasing some of the juices out of you with little restraint.

“Far from it actually,” he replies against your clit. A cheeky grin eats away at his features, but it quickly disappears as he returns his focus to your cunt. Your hand finds its way back down to his hair once more and tugs hard at the strands. Each tweak of his tongue through your folds has your legs jerking a bit, and he has to tighten his grip on your thighs to keep you from moving so much under his touch.

“I’m not — I w-won’t last, pl-please, I–” You can’t even finish the sentence as Hongjoong flicks the tip of his tongue right over your clit and cuts you off. He repeats that same motion, again and again, brings you right to the precipice of an orgasm only to tear you back down from it with soft kisses pressed to the outside of your folds. You can’t keep track of how many times he repeats that process, but it is more than enough to have you shaking from exhaustion and desperation even though you haven’t even been able to come yet.

“Are you going to beg for it, doll?” Hongjoong hums after what feels like hours of pleasurable torture. “I promised to make you feel good, did I not? You just have to tell me what you want.” His words are so taunting that it burns you with embarrassment. The need for that orgasm hangs on every nerve ending of your body, and you could cry just out of the need to come.

“Please,” you whisper in a tone broken from constant moans and cries.

“Be more specific.” It’s so cruel. He dangles the promise of pleasure before your eyes again, this time nipping ever so gently at your bud, and you really do cry this time, fingers digging harshly on his scalp. That draws a prolonged growl from his lips, and it reverberates against you so nicely that you could come from that. Hongjoong pulls his head back too soon though and the sensation is dashed away.

“N-No, no, please. P-Please, Hongjoong, I — please let me come. I need it, I need it so badly. Shit, just – just please let me come,” you wail as tears slip out the corners of your eyes and spill onto the sheets under you. That’s the breaking point for him as well, or so it would seem, because the next time his mouth brushes through your cunt, he doesn’t relent. You come undone on his tongue, riding out the waves of your intense orgasm as he fucks his wet muscle into your heat. He won’t stop chuckling either — a low noise that just prolongs the pleasure and makes you quiver from overstimulation. He doesn’t let up until a dry and choked sob pushes past your lips.

Suddenly he is back up on the bed, bent over your body to be eye to eye with you. His fingers trace over your wet cheeks then clasp hard around your jaw.

“Too much?”

“N-No,” you stammer through the wet cries. “So good. So so good.”

“Mm, can you take my cock too, doll?” He all but purrs the words against your skin. His soft and trailing kisses return to your skin, peppering the line of your jaw just past his fingers.

“Yes, please, I c-can. Please. I want i-it all.” You never thought you could sound so overwhelmingly desperate, but the tumbling sensation that swerves through your stomach as Hongjoong’s demeanor shifts has you falling into absolute shambles. He shifts your position, pushing you up higher to rest against the pillows, and you start to drape your legs around his waist. That must not be the position he had in mind though, because his hand clamps down hard on one of your calves and pushes it to the top of his shoulder. Before you can even blink, he does the same with your other leg, effectively folding you in half and into a position you weren’t even aware that your body was capable of. That shock is momentary as you feel the tip of what must his cock rubbing over your pulsating hole. You can’t do anything but ball your fists around the sheets under you and cling to them like a vice. It’s the only thing that can prepare you for his girth; the stretch may not be as much as you thought it would be, but it still stings like a bitch even after he bottoms out in you. That pain must be showing on your features – in the way your brows are tightly knit together and your eyes are screwed shut so that excess tears from earlier slip out.

The soft caress of lips touches your forehead. It’s so gentle and delicate that you nearly miss it in your efforts to grow used to the sensation between your legs, but Hongjoong repeats it time and time again until your breathing steadies and your chest stops heaving as much. It’s only then that he dares to resituate his hips. You crack an eye open to look at him, and it’s abundantly clear that he’s trying his hardest to hold back and keep from fucking into you with reckless abandon.

“I’m okay now,” you whisper, pulling a hand off the bedsheets to brush some loose strands of hair out of Hongjoong’s vision. “Please fuck me as hard as you’d like.” You snake the same hand around the back of his neck. When he still doesn’t move, you offer a sharp tug to the hair that falls over his sweat-slick nape, and that spurs him into action. His hips snap roughly against yours, pushing your back further into the crude curve it’s already in. Now that the dull throbbing pain has dissolved into a sensation of pleasure, you drown yourself in the drag of his member inside you. It’s quite possibly the best feeling you’ve had all night with the way his tip rubs over your bundle of nerves at just the right angle.

Hongjoong drops his elbows to the pillow under your head, and you greet him with a kiss that is mostly just an awkward clash of teeth for the most part. He gains enough composure to shift the angle to one that’s easier for both of you, hips still working hard as he rocks into you with the same force and speed as before. You are so lost in the euphoria that you can’t even feel your next orgasm sneaking up on you, but when it does, it pulls a noiseless scream from your lips. Hongjoong mouths at the corner of your lips as you ride it out. He still seems far off from his own high, even as he slows the pulses of his thrusts. You claw your way back from the high of your orgasm to grip his hair tighter and pull him closer to you.

“In me. I need you to come in me or not at all,” you demand through a huffed out sigh. It’s a moment of throwing caution to the wind, one that is quite worth it thanks to the expression of hunger and lust that fills Hongjoong’s face.

“You can’t just say things like that, doll,” he growls into the shell of your ear. You try to laugh but he interrupts you with a thrust harsher than any of the ones before. Every sound that falls from your lips now is stuttered and broken at the seams, and you let him fuck you with that same level of passion until he finally seems to tire and lose his rhythm. The only warning you have that he’s about to orgasm is the slight whine to his tone when he moans next. You push what strength you have left into clenching hard around his cock, and that is ultimately what tips him over the edge and pulls a delightful moan from his lips as he spills into your tight heat. He releases his hold on your legs, letting them slip away from his shoulders and back into a more comfortable position on the bed, but he refuses to move off your body.

You aren’t sure how long the two of you stay like that: with Hongjoong continually mouthing small kisses to the underside of your jaw and you just staring blankly at the glittering ceiling with a mind nearly empty. However much time passes doesn’t quite matter because once you recover your senses enough to be coherent again, you recall what is supposed to come next. Shaky hands find their way to Hongjoong’s arms and trail up to rest atop his back.

“Take it all away,” you exhale through a pant, hands clinging desperately to the milky skin of Hongjoong’s shoulders. “I don’t want to remember him anymore.” His chest heaves against yours, and a few loose strands of dark hair fall forward to stick to his sweat-slick forehead. This time when he kisses you, it is hot and searing, a brand against your lips, one that burns the inside of your mouth and sets your tongue alight. The sensation slips down the back of your throat, fills your gut, burns you from the inside out, and all your thoughts go hazy under the touch of his lips. With that one kiss, Hongjoong takes it all away. He gives into your desires, heeds your wishes, and grants you the ultimate peace and serenity you so deeply craved. He continues to cling to you like he’s never held something so desperately or lost in his infinite existence. You return the embrace in full while you can, strength already leaving you in the afterglow of your fornication, and you rake your nails down over his back if only to leave him with some sort of trophy to leave with. He is already leaving with your memories though, a trophy to hold close to his heart should there ever be a time when you ask for them to be returned to you. Perhaps in your afterlife, you’ll ask for them back, and Hongjoong would gladly give them should it be what you desire.

That is what he is, after all. As much as he takes, the Demon King of the Underworld gives in return, where he can with what he can. His duty, his bond, the sole purpose for his existence is to maintain that balance between giving and taking. But if it’s for you — a creature so lost, dismal, and hopeless — perhaps he can tip the scales a bit further in your direction.

At least, that’s what he thinks as you curve your body into his and press your lips with more fervor than before. That maybe, just maybe, endless years of his own hopelessness and confusion were all meant to lead him to finding this: a purpose in his undying life.

﹎    ﹎    ﹎

#atzinc #kdiarynet #kwritersworldnet #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong angst #hongjoong imagine #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong oneshot #hongjoong scenarios

[pleasantmag]

Interview: Q&A with Slo TV

Photo by Rosie Simmons

Philadelphia’s Slo TV are gearing up to release their debut album, Incomplete Structures, which was produced and recorded at True Level Studio by Tom Conran and Holly Smith. Additional recording was done at Sound Acres Studio by Conran. Guest vocals on this album feature True Level Studio owners Casey Cavaliere (The Wonder Years) and Adam Ackerman (Honeyjar). We caught up with Tom Conran for a Q&A session to talk about the band, the release, and their future plans! Check out the interview below and don’t forget to check out Incomplete Structures, due out May 6, 2022. Pre-order it here! 

______

Pleasant Mag: Thank you for being here to talk with us today. We’re so excited to interview y’all. So tell us, where did your band name come from & how did your band form?

Tom Conran: Working as a producer the past few years, I started experimenting with recording and mixing techniques as a sort of release or escape just trying to detach from the stress of life and make something.  When it got to a point that I wanted to realize some of this stuff I just started fully recording tracks before even deciding they would have lyrics.  It went from a few songs to an album quickly and I went to some friends for help.

I had been thinking about slow tv(marathon style broadcasting) as a format and idea during this time and it was the only name that felt right. We wanted to play with the contradiction of media and nature, another escape and influence for us.  

PM: What was the process like bringing on UnWoven’s Charlie Singer, CaraCara/Steady Hands’, George Legatos, & Darla’s Brendan Monohan?

TC: When I was writing the tracks I knew i wanted Charlie to record drums so when he was down to join the band I was stoked. He beats the living shit out of the drums and it really comes through in a beautiful way on the tracks. On the record Adam Ackerman lent his talents to the bass and some background vocals, so when it came time to translate that live, Honeyjar drummer Richie Straub, linked me up with Brendan and It was a perfect fit from the get go so I eventually got him to find me George as well.  First practice we had with George, he knew the songs better then me. Again a perfect fit.

PM: Can you tell us a little bit about what was the writing process like for your debut album? Was it collective among the band members?

TC: These tracks started out as ambient synth demos that were totally free form and were scoring some of Holly’s old art school video workfilms. Slowly the tracks built up into full band arrangements. After all the instrumentation was tracked, the songs just called for more. So Holly and I started to write lyrics with the focus of bringing some pop and poetry to them. It’s wild to reflect on the transformation of these songs since their inception.

When I got together with the band we focused on the emotional story we wanted to tell with each song.  Im still always working on l demos so I’m am excited next time around to bring them to the band and get their influence early on.

PM: Why did you choose a full length album to release first rather than an EP? Any reason in particular?

TC: I was really using this process to, process, if you will, a lot of events in my life and it was a large span of time so I ended up with 20 songs. I edited that down to 8 and felt like that’s what it needed to be.  

PM: Do you have a favorite song on this album? What is it and why?

TC: One of my favorite moments, sonically, is the second chorus of “Free Hands”. The overall composition of the section always guts me. It‘s a perfect photo of the exact emotion I was trying to explain.  This is the one song on the record that was actually about the past unlike the others which were reactions to the these two years. It is also the one Holly pushed me to write about, and her favorite on the album

PM: What was it like recording this album at True Level Studio, which you co-own with Casey Cavaliere of The Wonder Years?

TC: It was great, I was able to experiment and sonically carve out exactly what I wanted to portray. It’s such a a privilege and a pleasure to say that the entire record is made in spaces myself and Adam have acoustically designed, tuned, or made. True Level is co-owned with Casey, Adam and myself. We went to Sound Acres to track drums and then brought it back to True Level Studio to track everything else. Holly was able to step in on vocal production and recording, and as co-writer that led to really vulnerable tracking sessions.

PM: What are you most excited for now that the album is out?

TC: I am ecstatic to show people how these songs translate live. Rather then a direct redo of the sonic experimentation and exploration the record goes down, we went for a more emotion based translation of what the songs felt like. This creates an experience that has a relationship to the record but is also completely new and has room to expand.

PM: What are you hoping to get out of this release?

TC: I wanted to put it out there as a way to heal myself but if it helps anyone else get through anything that would be a cherry on top

PM: Any plans for touring this year? As a studio owner and a band with band members who are involved in many other projects, will that make touring challenging, if that’s something you’re interested in?

TC: As of right now, we hope to play locally as much as possible, and our release show is May 11 at Ortliebs! No tour on the books as of yet, but I’d never count it out! We’re all getting good at working from where and when we can these days so hopefully we are able to take any opportunities that come our way.

PM: Are there any bands you’d like to tour with? Dream tour lineup?

TC: Dream line up for me would be opening for Pedro the Lion, Broken Social Scene, and probably Radiohead headlining. Wild.

PM: What are some artists you’ve been listening to lately?

TC: Right now it’s the new Orville Peck, Soul Glo, and Wet Leg records with some old Willie Nelson records mixed in there.

PM: Anything else you’d like to add?

TC: Our record Incomplete Structures comes out tomorrow (5/6) and our record release show on (5/11) in Philadelphia at Ortlieb’s!

#slo tv #philadelphia #true level studio #new candys #greg mendez #half thought & goings #philly bands #philly shows #interview #interviews #q&a #pleasant mag #stay pleasant #album release show #incomplete structures #the wonder years #twy #Casey Cavaliere #ortliebs #ortlieb #shows in philly #bands in philly #new releases #2022 releases #behind the scenes

[xiaodejunletsact]

i still love you | zhong chenle

word count: 17, 367

genre: high school!au, basketball!player, angst, fluff, you are a bet au??? lol idk 8 letters!au

warnings: lots of angst, playing of emotions, mentions of panic attacks and sex.

authors note: im finally back!! with a chenle fic!! okay so,, i wanted to thank everyone who loved 8 letters, the reaction to that fic was better than anything i could’ve ever imagined, so thank you so much!! this is like a chenle version from the same universe. but most importantly: i decided to put songs in some scenes to enhance the experience while reading, you don’t have to but if you want to listen to the ‘soundtrack’ of this fic click the ‘🏀’!!!!! please enjoy!! 

synopsis: high school can be complicated. thats why when your crush of three years, zhong chenle, approaches you out of nowhere offering to drive you home you are right to question his intentions.

🏀

You can hear the loud thumping of your heart in your ears as you watch the players dart across the court. The squeaking of their sneakers against the polished floor as they furrowed their eyebrows in concentration. Well… as he furrowed his eyebrows in anticipation, you wouldn’t know about the rest of the players on the court because your eyes were focused on one boy in particular. Number 22, Zhong Chenle. Your crush since sophomore year and soon to be captain of the basketball team (even if this is your personal opinion you’re 87% sure of it). The boy had caught your eye when he first smiled your way back in 10th grade and offered to help you with everything since you were new, leaving a stamp on your heart that would mark it as his own for the next years to come. Of course, you hardly ever spoke to him, too nervous and clumsy to even think of approaching someone so out of your league but there was something about his crinkly smile eyes and fluffy hair that got a hold of and never let go. 

Which is why you find yourself seated at the school’s bleachers watching the basketball game like you did every week, hands clutching the sides of the bench as you watched Chenle get the orange ball passed to him, and the scene plays in slow motion. 

Sweat drips off the tips of his newly dyed blond hair as he gains impulse with a jump, shooting a perfect three pointer and deeming the game of victory for his team. You proudly smile as you watch his teammates cause a ruckus around him, cheering and hitting him occasionally. However, your mood dampened as you watched Chenle escape the clutches of his team, running to the side benched where Ava, (the bitchiest girl in school but also his girlfriend), sat. He leans down to peck her lips, only to be stopped when she holds her hand up, pushing him away with a disgusting, “you’re sweaty!” He looks dejected for a second, before forcing a smile and turning back towards the team. You wonder if you’re the only one who noticed the interaction, you wonder if you’re the only one who cares enough to want to march down there and tell her off. You huff, instead opting to march your angry way to the entrance of the gym starting the trek home. Wondering if Number 22 will ever be yours like you desperately want him to.

-

It’s funny how much of your life you could dedicate to one person without any sort of reciprocation. You felt almost embarrassed as you shoved yet another letter into an envelope that increasingly got thicker and thicker with every burst of your emotions. You see, every time your feelings for Chenle got too strong to bare you would write short letters about how you felt, obviously, with no intention of Chenle ever getting his hands on them, just for your own catharsis. It helped, most days. 

Today is not one of those days. 

“Uh huh…” you said absentmindedly at your friend, Donghyuck , who tries to explain to you what intricate contraption they are building in this week's robotics class. However, you’re too busy looking over his shoulder at Chenle who laughs half heartedly at something his friend says, before going serious once again. You furrow your eyebrows and say, “have you noticed anything off about Chenle?” 

Donghyuck  sighs, knowing he has lost you once again. Nevertheless, he humors your narrative turning to watch the boy in question along with you. “I mean… he is kind of down.”

“Right?” You reply, shutting your locker and clicking the lock. Donghyuck  shrugs.

“Maybe it’s because he broke up with his girlfriend this weekend.” 

You stop dead in your tracks, “He did what?” 

Donghyuck  nods, (like it’s not a huge deal!) “at the party you missed this weekend, they got into a big fight and he told her it was over and stormed off.” 

“A-and you didn’t think to tell me this?” You respond to which he just shrugs.

“It’s not like you had a chance with him anyway.” 

“Ouch, Donghyuck .” 

The words stung, of course but you knew Donghyuck  was just being realistic with you, never one to lead you into things that could only hurt you in the future. 

Donghyuck  says something after that, that you don’t quite catch but you guess it’s fine since you didn’t really want to listen to him right now anyway. 

Especially since Zhong Chenle just caught you staring at him and is now staring just as intensely into your eyes as you were to the side of his face. 

You don’t know what kind of glitch you go through that you are unable to form any type of reaction or look away. Instead just kind of… freezing. 

He brings up a hand and slightly waves in your direction. A kind smile on his face. 

Oh no. He actually sees you. 

Before you can even process it, you realize that you're running down the hall in the direction opposite to him. Out of the back door of the school, heaving as your heartbeat reaches 3000bpm.

🏀

Recalling the memory as you walk to the bus stop that afternoon causes you to slap your palm against your forehead once again. “What was I thinking? Now Chenle is really going to think I’m a freak.” 

You couldn’t believe yourself, kicking the gravel underneath your sneakers in frustration you beat yourself up over having ruined the only interaction that could’ve possibly been your chance to win his heart. It could’ve been the last time he ever looked your way again, and you wouldn’t blame him. 

But it wasn’t. 

Because just minutes after, like a miracle from heaven, you hear the roar of an expensive car engine near you before hearing his angelic voice call the syllables you thought you’d never hear him say: “Y/N!” 

Wide eyed, your snap your head to the sound of his voice only to see him through the window of his shiny million dollar car. He smiles and you feel like running again. He notices. “Wait! Don’t go!” 

You hear the buckle of his seatbelt being undone and watch in shock as he jogs around the car and suddenly he towering over you with a sweet smile. “Hi.” 

Say hi back! What are you doing? “Uh- I- uh- Hi?” 

He chuckles, looking down at his shoes before looking into your eyes once again. “How you doing?” 

“I’m- im good.” You stutter. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

The silence that follows makes you want to get swallowed up by the ground and never see daylight again. 

Chenle notices how you avoid his eyes and chuckles once again, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well, um, I just saw that you were walking and wanted to know if you wanted a ride.” 

“In your car?” You ask in a quiet voice. Chenle laughs. 

“I mean, yeah. Unless you want to rent bikes from the tourism center.” You allow a small smile to grace your lips briefly before remembering the circumstances you currently found yourself in. Chenle (Zhong Chenle, Number 22, Yes. Chenle.) has just offered you a ride in his fancy car. The same car you watched him pull up in for two whole years. And he wants you to get in it. 

The millions of scenarios that go through your head as to why this could be happening but as you painfully remember today’s events, you realize what this is about. 

Chenle shoves both his hands in his jean pockets as he awaits your answer. “...So?” 

You breathe in deeply, “Listen, um, if you’re doing this because you feel bad about earlier or something, please don’t.” 

Chenle’s eyebrows furrow together and he comes closer to you. “That’s not the case at all, I just saw you walking all by yourself and thought to offer you a ride home.” 

“But you drive past here every day and you’ve never offered me a ride before?” You question out loud, wincing as you realize that you could possibly sound creepy for knowing where he goes in the afternoon. “I mean- you always drive in the same direction as my bus stop! So I see you!” You feel how clammy your palms are rubbing against the harsh fabric of your jeans. “Speaking of the bus, I should probably go before I miss it.” 

Just as you turn to walk away, Chenle’s hand grips your wrist where your sleeve has ridden up, allowing the first skin to skin contact you ever made with him. Your eyes widen at him and he lets go immediately, awkwardly. “I guess I was focused on other things, but now I’m focused on you.” 

-

In the fever dream that was Zhong Chenle flirting (?), and the insistent drumming of your heart in your ears you come back to only realize you were moving into Chenle’s car. (The doors opened upwards!) 

The boy took the liberty of opening it for you, closing it once you were settled in. You took the moment he was walking to the driver’s side to take in a deep breath and compose yourself. 

What the hell is going on? Why Zhong Chenle talking to you? Why is he driving you home? Why did he tell you he’s focused on you? What? What does any of this mean? 

Before you could begin pulling your hairs out in frustration, Chenle’s door opens and he plops down onto the driver’s seat. He looks over at you with a smile as he fastens his seatbelt, “Buckle up.” You do so quietly, biting your lip to prevent any further embarrassment. 

The drive begins with little to no talking, the only thing filling the silence being the constant humming of the air conditioning and static of the radio.

 “Do you want to listen to something?” He presses his pale fingers to the glossy touch screen in between you two. Soon enough, a soft beat travels through the ambience of his car. You see from the corner of your eye that he looks over at you and smiles, but keep your nervous eyes on the road in front of you; Chenle faces the road once again, tilting his head to the side in a gesture that you would find unbearably cute any other day makes you want to open the car door and jump out into the street, running away from the awkward silence and the confusing thoughts plaguing your mind.

-

Chenle leaves after promising to pick you up tomorrow morning, you can only nod your head rapidly and run into your house, afraid that he would be able to hear the loud beats of your heart.

Once the door of your room is closed safely behind you, you finally breathe for the first time this afternoon. “What the fuck? What the shit? What the hell?” You mutter to yourself as you pace around the room. 

Could it be that your dreams are finally becoming a reality? Had Chenle seen you the way you saw him this entire time?

The one sided crush wasn’t as one sided as you thought! Is what you wanted to think, but there was part of you that questioned where his intentions lie due to the abruptness of the situation. What if there was an ulterior motive behind his actions? No. Chenle wouldn't do something as bad as play with someone’s emotions like that? Right? 

As you lay in bed pondering the thought you decide it's best to ask him tomorrow.

-

You wake up 30 minutes earlier the next day, showering thoroughly and waiting in the living room so as to not make him wait too long to leave when he arrives. 

This moment comes while you’re sitting at the table with your family, your eyes widen as you hear the knocks on your front door. “I’ll get it!” You stop your mother from reaching the door as you run to it. 

Chenle smiles politely as your face appears from inside the house. “Hey.” 

You smile back nervously, “Hi.” You proceed to stand at the doorway for a few awkward seconds before your mother comes to see who it is. She is pleasantly surprised to see someone of the male species there in front of you. 

“Oh?” She says, smiling at him then looking at you suggestively. You try to convey a silent plea to not embarrass you before she looks away to shake Chenle’s hand.  “Hi! I’m Y/N’s mom, are you one of her friends?” 

Chenle smiles at her sweetly, “Yes, I am. I’m actually here to pick Y/N up for school.”

“You’re taking Y/N to school?” Your mother’s shocked face is enough to tell Chenle that it was probably the first time anything like this has happened to you. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Your mother sends you a sly smile that she thinks Chenle doesn’t notice before nudging your arm. “Then what are you doing standing there? Don’t make him wait!” Your groan and rub the spot on her arm where she pushed you as you go upstairs to grab your backpack.

Downstairs, Chenle accepts your mother’s offer of entering your humble home. Your house is a modest abode with strange decorations hanging up on the walls, along with pictures of your family. The living room looks like an orphanage where mix matched furniture goes to live. There's one pale green couch, one beige and one a bright yellow. Chenle thinks back to the pristine state of his own living room, the pure white furniture and modern, classy decorations hung up on the marble walls. He realizes that it is nothing like his own, in fact, he doesn’t think it could’ve been more different but he finds that he likes it. That it feels homey compared to his usually liefless house. It’s the kind of place he would stay in for a long time. 

Chenle shakes those thoughts out of his as soon as they appear, remembering why he was doing this in the first place, he couldn’t risk getting attached.

-

“Be honest with me.” 

Chenle startles upon hearing your voice above its normal shy muttering. You, on the other hand, are shaking in your shoes having practiced what you would say and thought over doing this millions of times last night. “What are your intentions? Like, it’s not that I think you’re a bad person or anything but I just don’t understand because of the suddenness.”

Chenle averts his eyes from the road to glance at you, smiling. He faces forward once again sighing slightly. “Okay, I’ll be honest,” He starts, you sit up straighter and involuntarily lean toward him. “I think you’re really cute, I always noticed you at my games and the way you would cheer me on was really endearing and it encourages me a lot.”

The butterflies that erupt in your stomach with his words are undeniable. “You noticed me?” Your quiet voice is back, still, he hears you. He smiles, and it’s genuine. 

“Of course I did,” he says, “And i know that it was very… sudden but if you give me a chance i would really love to take you on dates and maybe… more.”  

He sounds slightly unsure of himself. Rubbing the leather of his wheel with his hands. 

Your mind is mush. Chenle likes you! He thinks you're cute and he noticed you at his games! What is life?! 

“What do you say?” he says after the awkward pause in which you freaked out. 

‘No’ is not a word in your dictionary.

-

The cycle continues throughout the next week; Chenle picks you up every morning (never forgetting to bid your mother a good morning) and takes you home every afternoon (always politely rejecting your mother’s offers to stay for dinner), always spilling banter in the car, learning about each other. Chenle notices how you open up to him and he likes it (though he can’t really pinpoint why), he likes talking to you, and laughing with you and he finds himself wanting to be around you more often. Though this wasn’t initially part of the plan, he figures he can enjoy it until it had to end. 

The thought makes an eerie feeling rise in his chest, even if he doesn't know why, he thinks things will be a lot harder than he planned.

🏀

It’s friday when Chenle invites you to come watch his basketball practice.

You had imagined this scenario in your head plenty of times before but not once did you think you would ever actually be here sitting on the players bench watching up close as Chenle maneuvered across the court along with the rest of the players. There was sweat dripping off the tip of his blonde hair which made him look 10 times more attractive than he already was and you have to stop the drool that threatens to leak from your lips as he sits down next to you on the bench. “Hey.”

“Hi,” You reply, trying to keep yourself together.

“Practice is over.” Chenle says motioning towards the now empty court. It's only then that you realize that you and Chenle are alone, and suddenly, he’s sitting a lot closer to you than you thought. You turn your face to him and realize that your noses are nearly touching, Chenle smiles. “Hi.” He says, coming a bit closer until he feels the moisture of his sweaty arm against your dry one, he recoils. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. I’m so sweaty right now.” There’s a dust of embarrassed blush on his face as he slides away on the bench. Your heart starts beating erratically as you watch him try to rub his sweat away with his small hand towel.

You can’t find the words to tell him it’s okay (slightly scared to tell him that you like it) so you say the next best thing. “You looked cool playing.”

This eases him a bit, he smiles. “You think so?”

“Yeah!” You say, “Like Curry!” 

Chenle laughs, “Oh man! I can’t believe you just compared me to Curry.” He stands and takes a bow, waving his towel dramatically. “I am honored.” 

The scene causes you to giggle, and Chenle has to take a breather to calm his own beating heart. 

“Especially when you blocked Jaemin at the 3rd point and scored on the spot. I was impressed.” 

“You must know a lot about basketball.” He points out. You shake your head. 

“Not really,” is your response. “I only learned from coming to watch your games.” The sudden confession slipped from your lips and you momentarily panicked. 

Upon not hearing  a response from Chenle, your breathing deepens and you think maybe you ruined the moment. 

Unbeknownst to you, Chenle watches you with curious eyes. He senses the tension coming from you and walks away, leaving you alone in your troubled state. 

You think maybe Chenle left without, freaked out and uncomfortable because of what you said, however, you’re proven ridiculously wrong when you dribble a basketball on the floor. 

You lift your gaze to Chenle who dribbled the orange ball with a teasing smile on his face. “Why don’t you show me what you got?” 

“I- I don’t-“ you begin. 

“Oh come one, Y/N!” He says, passing the ball to you, “You have to be good. I mean, you did learn from the best.” The cocky shrug of his shoulders and teasing smile bring you peace of mind and you find yourself agreeing. 

-

It’s safe to say that Chenle is surprised at your skills. He should’ve known you had paid enough attention to him to learn all his techniques and dodge them while playing. And to think he was planning on letting you win so you could feel better. It eventually became a full competition. Sweaty bodies and heavy breathing, running, dodging, scoring. Teasing words and intense competitive gazes. 

The score was 7-7. Chenle sweeps in to swipe the ball from your hands but you pivot and shoot the three pointer right from your spot. “Yes!” You exclaim, throwing your hands in the air with a celebratory dance. “I won!”

Chenle is leaning with his hands on his knees, his chest heaving. “I need-“ he breathes, “I need to stop being so good at basketball. So heathens like you can stop learning my best tricks.” He brings his hand up to pinch your cheek teasingly. “You should join the team.” He says jokingly. You chuckle, rubbing the spot on your face that was just touched by his fingers. 

“As if.” 

“Hey! Does the idea of being in a team with tons of rowdy sweaty dudes that unappealing?” Chenle jokes, placing the basketball back in its place. 

“It’s enough with you.”

Before you can retract the statement, Chenle speaks. “That’s right, you only need one sweaty rowdy basketball player in your life.” He winks. “And that’s me.”

You laugh at his words but can feel your heartbeat all throughout your body. You can’t stop your mind from thinking: 

You’re damn right. It’s you. 

-

As you walk back to his car, Chenle is the first to break the comfortable silence. “You know… it was nice to see you so talkative and competitive today. I had fun.” 

And despite everything, he meant it. He knows he probably shouldn’t, but he does. 

Unaware of his inner turmoil, you smile. “I did too.” 

He gives you a lopsided smile in return before sliding the strap of your backpack off your shoulder and onto his own, keeping his own backpack company. “I’ll carry it for you.” 

You wonder if this is the start of something magical. Beside you, Chenle wonders the same but his thoughts are weaved with something more, something that meant trouble. 

You, however, hurry home to pour your feelings into a letter. Hearts drawn on the borders of the loose leaf page and a smile on your face all throughout. 

🏀

Every week it gets harder to become immune to Chenle’s charm. 

Today, he did something as simple as drop you off at home after school. However, before bidding you goodbye as song rings from the radio of his car. Chenle perks up. “I love this song!” 

He turns up the radio to its full capacity and rolls down the windows, making the music sound through the street. 

“Chenle! Turn that down!” You exclaim but the laughter in your tone hints that you want the exact opposite. Chenle shakes his head. 

“No can do!” he waves his arms dramatically in the air, “Dance with me!” 

You laugh once again at the wonderful boy, “You’re ridiculous!”

“Oh yeah?” He says challengingly. Suddenly he is opening the door and dancing on the sidewalk where everyone could see him. His movements are almost manic and all you can do is continue laughing. “I’m not leaving until you dance with me.”

“My neighbors are going to see you.” You warn. He shrugs.

“It's fine. I’ll just tell them I’m with you!” 

“Oh my god no.” You say, stepping out of the passenger’s side, walking around the car until you’re in front of him, you cross your arms. 

“Show me some moves, I’m getting tired.” 

And so an impromptu two people dance party breaks out on the sidewalk in front of your house. Even though in your imagination dancing with Chenle would require the presence of an elegant ball gown and fancy chandeliers, all there is to be seen is loud music, laughter, grabbing of hands and playful banter. And you wonder if it could ever be more perfect than this.

-

Of course, like any other human, Chenle has his moments. 

The morning car ride was as silent as could be. Chenle’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, angrily. His usual smile is replaced but a scowl that only left momentarily when you stepped into the car earlier, a (clearly forced) polite smile is what you saw.

Since then you didn’t dare to speak, not wanting to bother him when he was clearly having a bad time. 

You arrive at the school and escape the still awkward ambience, bidding him a quiet farewell before running in. 

- 

You proceeded to spend the entire school day wondering what was up with Chenle that morning and what you could do to help him. It’s when you meet at the end of the day once again that you ask, “Hey, is everything okay?”

The boy freezes up, before clearing his throat. “Yeah, why do you ask?”

You shrug, “Nothing, you you were just kind of, like, quiet this morning… so i figured you were upset.” 

The blonde boy in the driver’s seat keeps his eyes on the road ahead of him, “It’s nothing, Y/N.” He says in a rough tone, one you’ve never heard or thought you would ever hear him use. “It doesn’t concern you anyway, okay?”  

Your form deflates into the seat, wishing you had kept quiet like you did this morning. You reply, “Okay.” 

There’s tension. Body swallowing tension that lasts all throughout the car ride to your house, as Chenle pulls up in front the driveway and you have already unbuckled your seatbelt before he got the chance to put the car in park. 

In the passenger’s seat, Chenle feels the guilt creeping on him. He realizes that you only asked because you cared. “Wait-” Seemingly, he is too late since you’ve already shut the car door and made your way up your driveway. “Goddammit.” He sighs to himself, working to take off his seatbelt.

Your feet hurriedly take you to your door after you exit Chenle’s car, your nerves increase as you hear Chenle leave his car. “Y/N, I-”

The door opens before you can turn the handle, your mother’s smiling face looks back at you. “Hey, Honey.” You smile back at the woman, who immediately notices the emotions behind your smile. Quietly, she asks: “Are you okay?” 

As soon as you nod in response, her eye catches Chenle standing guilty behind you. “Chenle! How are you?” 

Chenle smiles with a nod, “I’m doing alright.”

“Well, I would invite you in for dinner but I can imagine what your answer will be.” She says jokingly, teasing him for all the times he had rejected her offer. To her surprise, Chenle doesn’t laugh awkwardly or agree with her, instead, he ponders for a bit. His gaze finds your own causing you to quickly look away. He feels his heart contract as he thinks of starting at square one with you; back to when you couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Actually,” He says, “Dinner sounds great.”

🏀

Even though the tension between you and Chenle is painfully obvious, he feels his heart become lighter as he watches how you interact with your little siblings. Laughing at their childish antics and playing along with them at the dinner table. Your parents engaged in conversation with each other across the table and Chenle sat next to you, smiling and nodding as your little sister animatedly explained to him why the rocks she found next to the trash can at recess just had to be magical. As he looks at the dynamic you have in your home, he realizes that this feels more like a home than his house ever has. All of you are sat at the table, the splash of colors brought by the miscellaneous decorations, the laughter and the love radiating from every corner makes Chenle want to stay there forever. 

“Woah!” He acts, “Are you serious?” 

The little girl nods proudly, “Mhm! And I’m going to give this one,” she points to a particular shiny one on the dining table, “to Y/N, so she can make her dream come true. But don’t tell her it’s a secret.” 

He chuckles at her before whispering, “why do you think she’ll ask for?” 

She giggles, leaning closer. She puts a hand over her mouth as she whispers. “Number 22.” 

Chenle refrains from gasping, “Huh?”

“She talks about him but she never wants to tell me who he is.” She explains. “But I think if she had a rock to grant her wishes, she would wish for him.”

Chenle takes this moment to look over at you, studying your side profile as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, helping your little brother with his food. 

That’s when it hits him. He realizes that this isn’t what he planned it to be, that the bet he set up with his friends had gone too far, and that if he himself had a magic rock for his use… he would wish for you too.

-

“Thank you so much for the food, it was delicious.” Chenle says, rubbing his full belly to emphasize. Your mother chuckles. “It was my pleasure, Chenle. You can come back anytime you want, you are always welcome here.” 

“I definitely will, ma’am.” He says with a lopsided smile before shaking your father’s hand firmly. You can already tell by the way your father affectionately claps his hand on his shoulder and smiles at him that he too has taken a liking to the boy, like your mother. 

“Y/N.” She says sternly, turning to you who currently battled to avoid Chenle’s eyes. You hum. “Be polite and walk Chenle to his car, please.” 

You grimace subtly, not wanting to be the awkward air that would come with being alone with him. You want desperately to say no, but the gaze your mother gives you tells you that would mean trouble for you. 

The basketball player notices your hesitation and looks down sadly at his sneakers, remaining that way as you lead him to the front door of your house. Its then that Chenle looks up to the view of the back of your head, his hand twitches in want to smoothen out the ahi at the back of your head for you. 

You catch Chenle mid dilemma as you turn to face him, gesturing towards the open door. His eyes shift from you to the door. And to his car, he thinks about the ride home and how once he gets home it will just be him and he’ll be alone. 

He doesn’t want to be alone. Strangely enough, he wants to be with you. 

“Chenle?” He hears your soft voice. Your eyebrows are furrowed as you watch him stand there, unmoving, with a look of confusion. He looks into your eyes and realizes you’re waiting for him to walk through the door first. He does so, head tilted down. You follow him out the door and close it behind you. 

You trail behind him until he reaches his car, however, instead of getting in like you expected him to, he turns abruptly to you. His eyes are glossy and startled at the sight of them. “Do you-“ He pauses, hesitating. “Do you wanna go for a drive?” 

“A drive?” You ask, watching him fiddle nervously with his keys. 

“Yes.” 

“Right now?” He nods firmly. 

“I don’t- I don’t think my parents will let me go out this late.” You say, wrapping your arms around yourself to combat the winter wind. Before saying in a quieter voice, remembering the events that took place earlier that day, “And I thought you wanted to be alone.” 

Chenle feels guilty upon hearing your words. Knowing you felt hurt by his words from earlier. He shakes his head, stepping closer to you. “No. I don’t. That’s the last thing I want right now.” 

You see something in his eyes that you had never seen before. Exhaustion mixed with sadness and worry. The usually mischievous happy go lucky look nowhere to be seen amongst all the turmoil you found looking at him. You immediately grew more concerned. “Chenle…” you say, he looks away momentarily. “I’ll- let me ask my parents.” 

-

Much like many times before, you’re sat in the passenger's side of his expensive car. The scene has become common, except the ambiance is different. Chenle doesn’t attempt to start conversation like he always does, instead, he just stares forward blankly. Occasional tears rolling down his pale cheeks which he wipes away as soon as they appear, you are itching to ask the boy what is going on in his pretty head but decide against it once you remember how that turned out earlier. So you keep silent as Chenle presses harder on the gas causing the streetlights of the empty highway to become a blur above you. It momentarily impressed you how fast his car could go, however, once you look over at the boy, you see his state. Chenle has strings of tears running down his face, snot dripping out of his nose and even his hair is sticking to his forehead due to his excessive sweating. 

“Chenle, maybe we should pull over.”

He doesn’t seem to hear you, only pushing further down on the accelerator. Fear and concern enters your bloodstream as you watch him become a version of himself you’ve never seen, a version you didn’t even think existed. You reach over took him and rest your shaky hand on his arm. Upon feeling your touch, his head snaps to you and he hits the brakes abruptly causing your entire body to jolt forward. “Woah!”

Chenle’s chest heaves as he sees how scared he has made you. “I’m- I’m sorry.”

“Pull over, Chenle.” You say sternly, pulling your hand away and instead of doing what he wanted to do which was pulling your hand back to him, he does as you told him and park his car on the side of the road. The two of you sit in silence for what feels like forever, until you hear a sniffle come from Chenle’s side of the car. Looking over, you notice how he is hunched over the steering wheel, crying.

“Chenle?” You use the softest voice you could muster. “Chenle, what’s wrong?”

Your immediate response is silence. He takes in short choked breaths, it seems like every breath he takes causes him to fall into a state of agony. 

“I think-” he said, voice quivering. “Y/N, I think I’m a bad person.”

The sentence confuses you. “Why would you think that?” 

“Because I did something terrible to someone I care about.” He answers, you note that he is not able to meet your eyes. It scares you. “What did you do?”  

“I can’t-” He says breathlessly, his hand fumbling to open his car door. Stumbling out, watch as he makes his way around the car, leaning against the cement railing with his head in his hands. 

You watch him in momentary shock before following him his actions and getting out of the car as well. You carefully approach him. “What is going on with you?” 

Chenle sighs, pulling his hands away from his face. “I had a fight with my mother this morning, and everything was just piling up and I guess that was just the last straw.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“I just… everyone expects so much from me.” He breathes. “My parents, my friends, my teachers, everyone at that damn school!” The railing in front of him takes the blows of his frustration. “And I don’t think i’m as good as they think i am, i'm not worth it.” He looks over at you and you immediately straighten at the sight of his red face. “Like you, Y/N. You’re so good to me, so nice and sweet. I don’t deserve it. Especially from you.” 

You don’t know what he means by that. Chenle knows you don’t know but he stays silent. You take this as your chance to speak. “I’m not only nice to you because I want to be. Because you’ve always been nice to me too, Chenle.” You dare to step closer, into his bubble. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, it would be impossible to meet everyone’s expectations so just be yourself… that’s enough for a lot of people.”

Chenle’s mouth speaks before he can stop it. “Is it enough for you?”

To forgive me? To still be the same after you realize what I’ve done. 

There is a silence that follows that one sentence, Chenle avoids your gaze nervously, he doesn’t realize that your silence is the product of your racing mind. The mind that is currently trying to find the words to describe what is happening in your heart. You ultimately decided that the best way to go is the truth. 

“You know… I kinda had a crush on you all throughout high school, which is kind of embarrassing but that’s not the point,” you start, “the point is that I had this perfect version of you in my head. Of what you would be like. And then when you came up to me that day… I didn’t know if I could talk to someone who wasn’t the Chenle I knew up here.” You take the liberty of poking a finger against your temple. “But I did anyway, and I realized you were nothing like the Chenle I saw in my head…”

Chenle chuckled sadly before commenting, “Ouch.” 

“You were better than him.” Chenle’s gaze snaps towards you in shock, you look forward. Too afraid to meet his gaze. “Nicer, funnier, and way more handsome than I thought up close.” You chuckle, having made the comment to help him feel better. “So yeah. I would say you are enough. More than, even.” 

“You really mean that?” 

For the first time you make eye contact, you furrow your eyebrows to try and make your sincerity as apparent as possible. “I do.”

He knows you do and that mends his heart as much as it breaks it into tiny pieces. He wants nothing more than to pull you towards him and smash his lips onto your own, but he also knows that it will only worsen the situation that is yet to come. Still his hands reach before he can stop them and reach to cup either side of your face. 

Your heartbeat is running at an unearthly speed, Chenle can hear it but knows his own is probably the same. Betraying his common sense, he leans into you until your lips are almost touching, the top brushing enough to have you wanting more. You think he’s going to kiss you and close your lips tightly. However, instead of his lips, you feel his hot breath when he utters the words: “I’m sorry.” Before removing his hands from your face and backing away. 

You can’t say the action didn’t cause a hurtful blow to your feelings but you also knew Chenle was in a tough place right now. You smile at him. “You don’t have to be sorry.” 

Chenle hates how you smile at him when he does things that hurt your feelings. He hates that you’re so considerate and nice to him despite what he is doing to you behind your back. He hates that you will find out one day and that you’ll hate him as much as he hates this. He hates that he doesn’t want to lose you, and that in the end he probably will. 

-

Friday is a holiday, so you don’t see Chenle the day after he took you on a late night drive with him. (You wrote another letter that night). In fact, you don’t hear from him until your phone chimes Saturday morning, Chenle’s name above a text message.

22 [9:15am]: hey

22 [9:15am]: I hope you’re good :)

22 [9:15am]: I just wanted to let you know there’s a party at my house tonight

22 [9:16am]: if you want

22 [9:18am]: actually, I really want you there so…

22 [9:20am]: please come.

You read the texts over a few times, it dawns upon you that you've never seen Chenle’s house. Sure, you’ve heard from classmates who had gone to his huge parties that it was extravagant as can be, resembling a hotel lobby rather than a house. The thought of being in his home made your hands sweat. Still, you remember how anxious you were to see him, especially after the other night, and you find yourself typing a reply of confirmation before tossing your phone to the side and walking to your closet to find something to wear for tonight. 

🏀

As soon as your parents drop you off in front of what was easily the biggest, brightest, classiest house you’ve ever seen in your entire life, you get the unnerving urge to go home. 

The abundance of people did nothing to help the creeping anxiety, the stares of some that briefly trained on you before whispering something to their friends. You couldn’t help but feel out of place. That is, until you see a familiar face. Jisung walks up to you with his hand wrapped around his girlfriend’s. “Hi!” He calle brightly as the girl waved friendly. 

“Hey guys!” You try to stabilize your voice. “How’s the party?” 

“Honestly… it kinda turned sour once some lower class men came and started to get wasted.” Jisung chuckled out, his girlfriend nods in agreement as she grips his arm affectionately. You smile when he looks over at her and smiles. There’s a part of you that feels envious of the relationship the two have but most of your thoughts surround how happy you are for the two. “We’re probably leaving soon anyway.” Jisung adds on. 

After getting over your monetary panic of having to be alone once again you nod your head, smiling at them. “Okay, I’m going to try to find Chenle.” They nod and bid their farewells, you sigh out loud as you walk through the crowd once again, searching for the blonde hair of the boy you so desperately need to calm right now. 

“I heard that she is the one Chenle left Ava for?” You hear someone say. 

“No way! Chenle wouldn’t stoop that low, plus I heard Ava broke up with him.” 

“Either way, I don’t understand why he would be hanging with her anyway, he probably feels sorry for her. What a loser.” 

It’s strange how you can hear their comments over the loud music that causes the walls to vibrate. You feel like vomiting as your insecurities take over and another sweaty presses against you. You push them away and run the rest of the way, not looking to find Chenle anymore just wanting to get out of here. You find what you hope is the bathroom and open the door, running inside and shoving the door closed, chest heaving.

“Y/N?” You hear from behind you, you turn around in shock and make eye contact with the red faced boy you spent your whole night looking for. “Chenle.” 

It’s then that you realize that he’s not alone. Across from him is an equally red faced Ava, eyebrows furrowed and lips turned down in a frown. 

It dawns upon you that you might have just interrupted something. 

You look between the two before averting your gaze back to the floor. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Hands grabbing the door handle and turning it quickly in a desperate attempt to flee the room. Completely deaf to the , “Wait!” That leaves Chenle’s mouth as you leave the room. 

Soon enough your back in the sea of sweaty drunks, trying to stabilize your voyage to the front door. To escape the stormy waters this night has caused your nerves. 

And you almost make it, had it not been for the harsh shove you received that sent you tumbling onto the floor. Suddenly, the people around you become giants and their huge feet stomp around you, threatening to squash you under their sneakers as if you were an irrelevant bug. 

Your shaky legs prevent you from standing up, and you only realize you’re crying when you feel a tear run down the side of your neck. No one seems to notice you’re there and you suddenly remember why being invisible sucks. 

It feels like ages have passed when you feel hands gripping your arms and lifting you onto your feet. Chenle’s voice sounds distance even if he’s barely an inch away from you. “Are you okay?” 

“I think-“ you say, shakily. “I think I’m having a panic attack.” 

Chenle takes your head and shoves it into his chest, making sure to keep a hand over your eyes as he leads you through the crowd. “It’s okay.” He whispers. “Everything is going to be okay.” 

He repeats the sentences over and over until you two reach a quieter place and you hear the door of a shutting door and the music becomes muffled. 

Chenle keeps a hand secured around your head as he holds you for a few more seconds before slowly letting you go. 

“I need you to breathe with me, okay?” He says. Before you can think, you nod. “In through your nose.” He demonstrated, you follow. “Out through your mouth.” 

You continue this until the beating of your heart has slowed down and you don’t feel like you're physically suffocating anymore. Instead, you feel tired. Chenle must have noticed because he ushers you to lay on the neatly made bed behind you, tucking you in before you had time to protest. 

🏀

It takes a whole ten minutes for either of you to speak, you half expected Chenle to leave after throwing this blue blanket over you, instead, he sits at the edge of the mattress and picks at his nails. Kind of like he wants to say something. 

“Thank you for helping me.” You speak first. “I don’t know what went wrong.” 

Chenle sighs, “I’m sorry for not finding you, I just- I was-“ 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain.” You interrupt, remembering where he was when you finally found him. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, still you know it’s not your place to question him. “I should get going, anyway.” You rush to slip on your shoes only to be stopped by Chenle. 

“No, it’s not what you thought it was.” He starts. You avert your gaze from him in fear of what he had to say. “Ava and I ran into each other earlier and she was just going off about how horrible I was in front of everyone. I think she was drunk, but she was causing a scene so I wanted to take her somewhere where it wouldn’t cause a commotion. I didn’t want to bring her in here so I just took her to the bathroom” He says, “We got into a bit of an argument, and that’s when you walked in.” 

“It’s-“ 

“She told me she wanted to get back together.” He blurts out, like he was getting something off his chest. 

“Oh.” Is your reply.

“Obviously I said no.” He says, almost expectedly. He doesn’t know that the knot that was tightening in your chest loosened a bit at his words. He watches you for a bit before speaking again. “What- what’s on your mind?” 

The question catches you off guard. You don’t really know what’s on your mind, the messy twister of thoughts going too fast for you to be able to reach in and grab a coherent thought. Only one thing pops up and you go with it. 

“Is this your room?” 

Chenle is silent for a second before he says. “Uh, yeah? Yes, it is.” 

You hum, laying on your back once again. It’s then that you notice the glow in the dark stars Chenle has stuck to the ceiling of his room, identical to the ones in your own. “You have stars on your ceiling.” 

He chuckles embarrassingly, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’ve lived here since I was a kid my grandad put them up there when I was young and I just never got around to taking them down.” 

“I have the same ones on mine.” 

“Really?” He asks. But he can’t help the shift his heart takes as he thinks of the two of you laying under the same glow in the dark stars every night. 

Before he knew it, he was walking towards the light switch and flicking it off. The lights shine to their full potential over you. It eases you a bit, until you feel the bed dip next to you and you smell his close proximity to you, feeling the warmth coming his shoulder where it touches your own as you lay side by side. 

The silence is comfortable this time. 

“Do you ever have panic attacks?” You ask suddenly. 

Chenle shakes his head but remembers you can see him, “No.” He whispers, as if someone would hear him. “But Jisung does sometimes, so I learned some techniques to be able to help him through it.” 

You smile into the darkness. “That’s nice of you.” You lower your voice to his whispering tone.

Suddenly words are absent and the two of you just stare at the stars to the ceiling. 

You know it’s weird, that after the other night, you are lying in Chenle’s bed beside him like nothing happened. Like you had always been there. You wondered whether you should be glad or scared that you feel that way.

Beside you, Chenle is having his own dilemma. On one part, he feels relieved that you’re safe now, that no one can hurt you now that you’re here with him. He feels comforted that you look so at home in his room, blending in so well it almost sends his head reeling. (Partially the reason he turned off the lights.) On another part, he feels so scared that he wants to think you blend in and that he wants to tell you everything in his head. That he wants to let you in, when he knows he shouldn’t. That he felt concern in his veins when he saw you in such a panicked state earlier, and all he wanted to do was tuck you into his chest and protect you forever. 

Why did he want to protect you forever? 

He turns on his side, you feel it. His breath fans on the side of your face. You turn to his darkness, staring to where you knew his face would be. 

“Can I tell you something?” He says, it’s too late to take it back now, since you nod. “The other night when I ate dinner at your house…” he starts, “I was in such a bad place, And I never thanked you for putting up with me and having me over for dinner, it made me feel so much better, you know before everything blew up in the car.” 

You furrow your eyebrows at his words. “That was actually my mom’s doing, but I will make sure to tell her you said so.” 

Chenle shakes his head, kissing his teeth. “No, that’s not it. It was because you were there, Y/N.” 

You hold your breath when he said that, not replying. Chenle takes his own in an attempt to calm his rapid heart. “Spending time with your family kinda made me feel like I was a part of something special.” He confesses. “Something you were a part of.”

An unsteady exhale tumbles from your lips, his statement doing a number on your heart. “What… what are you trying to say?”

This is it, Chenle. Tell her about the bet, confess what you did and fix everything before things get too serious and you break her heart. Tell her the truth! 

‘The truth’ Chenle thinks. ‘Okay.’

“I like you, Y/N.” You don’t see that he is squeezing his eyes shut even if the room is pitch black.

“What?” You say in disbelief, even if the butterflies have already started erupting in your stomach. 

“I like you.” He repeats. “So much.” 

You stare in his direction in a state of shock and happiness. Meanwhile, Chenle beats himself up in his mind, taking your silence as a bad sign. “It's okay if you don’t want to be a thing or anything, I just thought, you know, since I like you and you like me… Liked? Is that past tense?” 

Your head shakes and causes a ruffling noise against his pillow. “No, it’s very much present tense.” 

The warmth pressed against your shoulder disappears. And you hear Chenle’s footsteps throughout the room, suddenly the world turns bright and Chenle walks back to the bed. Now with the light on, he can see the blush on your cheeks and the small smile you wear. He smiles back at you, but he feels bad. So, so bad. 

So bad that leans down to lay over you, kissing your breath away. 

It's only after the momentary surprise that you begin to kiss him back.

His lips are rougher than you thought they would be, but still held some pillow like softness you expected. His hands hold your cheeks as he dips down further to bring his lips closer to yours. 

Now you totally understood why everyone was so crazy about kissing. It’s the best thing ever, and you never want it to end. However, breathing becomes an issue when you kiss someone, you learned. Chenle is the first to pull away, keeping his face a barely centimeters from your own, your breaths meet in the middle. 

When you finally open your eyes, you are met with Chenle’s worried ones already watching you. You immediately frown. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask. Are you a bad kisser? Does your breath smell? Does he regret it? His response is unlike those, shocking you when the words leave his mouth. 

“I don’t want to break your heart, Y/N.”  He looks away from you. His body is still positioned above you, the position being one that makes it hard to avoid your eyes (and one that is even suggestive).  Still he tries his best, that is, until he feels your soft hands cradling his cheeks just as he has been doing to your own just a few minutes ago. 

“Chenle, look at me.” You say, though your voice is wavering. He obliges. “Why are you worried about that?” 

“I just-” You can tell he would look away if you weren’t holding his head in place, he can’t hide his eyes now. “I’m just afraid I'll do something to hurt you and that you’ll hate me.” He says, which isn’t the whole truth but is also not a lie. 

“Why would I hate you? I could never.” Chenle wants to scoff sadly when you say that but you cut him off. “I’ll promise to not break your heart if you promise to not break mine.” You extend your pinky in between your faces. 

Chenle winces internally, feeling like he already broke your heart. And he is more scared now that it’s real. That you like each other and this probably makes you guys a thing, that he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings like he knows he will. But he also thinks about the fact that he has never felt this way with anyone else, that you were the first girl he ever felt comfortable enough with to let in his room, that you have glow in the dark stars like him and that it kind of feels like you’re split-aparts that have finally found each other. The longer he could keep you by his side, the better. 

That’s when he decides to let himself live in this world, at least while he can. He wraps his pinky around yours and lets your thumbs touch, sealing the deal.

He doesn’t have time to regret his decision because you lean up and catch his lips before he can think of anything but you.

🏀

Two weeks later, and most of your days have been spent much like this one. Chenle’s arms wrap protectively around your middle as you read the messages on your phone. One being a reminder from the president of the student council about the special dress code for Valentine’s Day. 

You turn in Chenle’s hold and meet his sleepy eyes, he smiles. “Did you see what the student council is doing?” 

“Mm?” He replies, you turn your phone to him. “A dress code?” 

“Yep, white for single, pink for complicated, and red for taken.” You say, bringing attention back to you phone. “I’m glad I look good in pink.” 

The statement confuses Chenle. “What do you mean pink? What is complicated?” 

You startle at the awareness and worry on his voice compared to the sleepy mumbles you were getting just moments ago. “Well… I mean, you never asked me to be your girlfriend.” 

Chenle freezes. You were right, he never did because part of the bet was to have a girlfriend by Valentines, it made him feel as though he wasn’t a complete asshole if he hadn’t completed the bet. “You’re right.” 

You watch him expectedly, but receive no response. Holding back a sigh, you bring your attention back down to your phone. 

“Are you upset with me?” His soft voice meets your ears. 

You shake your head. “Of course not, why would I be?” 

“It’s not fair to you that I keep you waiting.” None of what I’ve done to you is fair, he thinks. 

You reach up and stroke the hair that frames his face, smiling softly. “I’ll wait until you’re ready, Chenle. You know that.” 

It scares him how soft you are, how warm and safe he feels when he’s with you. That’s when he decides, it’s best if he waits out this week and lets himself live like this longer, even if it’s for a bit. 

“Kiss me.” He whispers. And you do. Pushing your chest flush against his, making sure every part of your body touches his own; remaining like that until you are sure you have blisters lining your lips from how much you’ve kissed him. 

The two of you end up hotly panting, you straddled over his lying figure. Chenle looks up at you from where he is before sitting up, suddenly, you feel the warmth of his hands tug at the edge of your shirt. His eyes ask for permission, which you reply to with a nod. 

You’re nervous. Very much so. You wonder if this will be the first time you have sex or if anything else will happen. 

Chenle lifts your shirt off your head and places it next to your body. “Is this okay?” He asks, his big innocent eyes looking up at you. 

“Yes.” Is the only answer you can formulate. 

The boy maintains eye contact with you as he says the following words. “Do you want to take off mine?” 

Your face flushed red, you can feel it. “I-if that’s okay with you.” His answer is in the form of his hands leading your own to the hem of his shirt, before letting go and putting his arms up. Your hands are shaking as you grab the clothing, slowly pulling it up, exposing his pale abdomen inch by beautiful inch. 

You smile at him as his head finally reappears from the whole in his shirt. “Hi.” You say, he smiles.

What he does next is something you didn’t expect from the lead up of events, unlike anything you’ve seen in erotic movie or read about in novels. 

He wraps his arms around your waist and pushes you down to lay next to him, he then pulls you towards him so that your the heat of your torso melts into his own. He shuffles until he is as close to you as he can get, only then is when stops moving. Resting his cheek against your own, you feel his breath on your ear. 

“I just want to be close to you, to hold you.” 

Just like that your heart is full to the brim once again. 

-

It’s the night before Valentine’s Day and Chenle is restless. He had decided tomorrow would be the day he would tell you everything. He would come clean and the two of you would start over (right?). He had practiced what he was going to say for hours earlier that night, wanting to have the perfect words so that his message got across to you. Still, even with all that practice, he knows there’s no guarantee that you won’t hate him. That you will swear him off and never speak to him again, when he has become so fond of you. The thought makes his hands ache and toes curl in an angsty feeling. 

After tossing and turning for nearly two hours, he finally gives up on sleeping and opts for looking at the stars stuck to his ceiling. He wonders if you’re awake right now. If you’re thinking about him while looking at your stars. He imagines your messy hair and pajamas and smiles softly to himself. “I miss her.” He says out loud, to the darkness of his room. 

Suddenly, everything happens in a flash as he throws his covers off himself and marches to the closet, pulling out his favorite red hoodie, grabbing the Valentine’s Day gift he had gotten you days ago then he’s in his car. Desperate to get where you are. 

-

It’s nearly 1am when you hear the knocking on your window. You had just begun to fall asleep when the noise startled you awake. 

Upon inspecting your window cautiously, you gasp when you see Chenle’s blonde hair. The window opens with a click. “Chenle! What are you doing here?” 

What is he doing here? “I just wanted to see you.” 

His words flutter your heart. “But it’s 1am, on a school night.” 

“I know that, I just…” he scratches the back of his neck because in reality he doesn’t know why the hell he even came here in the first place. “I had to give you something.” 

He extends the bag in his hand out to you. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

The bag contains two items, the first being the red hoodie you had seen Chenle wear many times before. His smell reeked off of it, causing you to nearly die of delight. “Wear this tomorrow.” He says. “Cause you’re mine.” 

You don’t know that his heart hurts for you, he pities you for being the one who causes him to lose all self control and make decisions that will hurt you in the long run. He feels so sorry that he couldn’t wait until tomorrow, that he just wanted you today, now. Before you get the chance to hate him. To run away. He wanted you to be his. 

You say nothing to him, only smiling bashfully as your cheeks matched the color of his clothing item. You look into the bag and see a black box that would be the second item. “What’s this?” You say to yourself, smiling up at Chenle. You open the box to reveal a beautiful necklace with a pretty pink diamond hanging off the end. You gasp. 

“Chenle, I can't accept that.” You say, closing it. You knew the necklace probably cost more than your house, you felt guilty taking it. 

“Please accept it. I bought it for you. I want to see it on you every day.” He seizes the opportunity to reassure himself. “And yes. It cost a lot, so that means we have to continue seeing each other, hm?” 

“Chenle…” you say. 

“Please.” He says in a way that makes you wonder if this is only about the necklace. 

“Okay.” 

You pivot and allow him to clip the chain, you turn to him and catch his reaction to the jewelry resting against your upper chest. “How do I look?”

Chenle’s eyes study the necklace before looking into your own. He smiles somewhat sadly as his arm reaches up to stroke your own. “You look beautiful.” He whispers. “Just like I knew you would.” 

You can’t put your finger on it, but something about his demeanor is unsettling. “Chenle, is something wrong?” You ask, to which he shakes his head weakly, but the sad look on his face tells you otherwise. You figure it had something to do with his family and refrain from asking. Instead you cup his cheek to provide him comfort, he leans into your touch and shits his eyes momentarily. “I love it. Thank you.” You say in a quiet voice. Chenle watches your features move into a soft smile before impulsively leaning forward to peck your lips. 

“I’m so happy.” To be with you, to be yours. “Let's be happy together for a long time, okay?”

You don’t say no.

-

The next morning you arrive before every other student to school. Chenle’s red sweater rests on your figure as you reach your locker and take out what had been heavy in your mind since last night. The letters. You were going to give them to Chenle and ask him to be your boyfriend. Sure, you were nervous to do so, but you knew Chenle was someone you wanted to have in your life for a long time. That's why you slip the envelopes decorated with his name one by one into the vent of his locker. 

You remember thinking this would be the beginning of something great. 

You were wrong.

🏀

There’s a pep in your step as you make your way through the halls after school clad in Chenle’s red hoodie, heart eyes searching for the boy. 

And for the first time in probably ever, you wished you wouldn’t have found him. You wished you didn’t have to see Chenle pressed up against his locker with his hands resting on Ava’s hips as she kisses him roughly. 

“Oh my god.” You say, voice small but enough to catch Chenle’s ear. The boy immediately pushes Ava away from him and turns to the sound of your voice with pleading eyes. 

“Y/N-“

“Look who showed up!” Ava interrupts, turning fully towards you. “I was wondering when you were going to come looking for him like you always do, I bet you’re glad it’s over, right Chenle?” 

The way the boy looks away from your eyes to shift his guilty gaze to the floor makes you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Chenle what is she talking about?” 

When the boy remains silent, Ava’s high pitched voice answers for him. “Well, since he doesn’t seem very talkative right now, I’ll just tell you myself.” She clears her throat, as if setting the scene, your hands are starting to ache. “A month ago, our darling Chenle made a bet with his friends after our break up, you know as boys do, they said he couldn’t get another girlfriend before Valentine’s Day. Obviously, Chenle’s competitive self took that as a challenge and it’s obvious that you had been in love with him for like ever so you were the easiest target.” 

The way the world stops spinning isn’t like it’s described in all the romance novels you read, it’s not the good kind that makes you feel like you're floating that nothing could stop you, it’s the kind that weighs you down and makes you feel dizzy, causing you to stumble. This is what you feel when you ask: “Chenle… is this true?” And the boy just stares at you, for a second before looking away once again. 

“Of course, it’s true. He was even showing me the pathetic love letters you wrote to him.” She motions to the stack of letters in Chenle’s hands. You gasp, feeling like every last bit of you was torn apart. The thought of them reading the deepest tellings of your heart and laughing at it, all when you wholeheartedly believed that the boy you spoke about in the letters was finally all yours.

When he wasn’t. He was never yours. But he wanted you to think that. 

“Oh my god,” you run to him and attempt to rip the letters out of his hands only for him to hold on tighter. “Let go, Chenle.” 

“Y/N, please-“ 

You can’t help the sob that creeps up your throat as your attempt weakly to shake your heart out of his hands. “Please, let go.” 

Chenle watches you cry before him and feels like that the act of ripping his actual heart out of his chest would hurt less than this. 

You take this moment of weakness and rip the letters out of his grasp, before running down the hall. 

-

It’s only when you feel a hand grasp your shoulder and spin you around that you realize that Chenle has followed you all the way out to the parking lot. 

Seeing him caused every bone in your body to ache, and the contractions in your heart were hard to ignore. “Wait, okay? I need to explain somethings to you.” 

“I don’t want to hear your explanations! I just want to go home.” You realize that you probably sound like a bratty child but you couldn’t care less. 

Chenle nods, “Okay, then let’s go.” 

“Not with you.” 

Chenle can't help the dagger that the sentence shoots into his heart. “Then I’ll say what I need to say right here!” He exclaims, trying to mask his pain with anger. “It’s true that I made a bet with my friends to date you the day I first drove you home, and it’s really shitty of me, I know. But I had just broken up with Ava and everything was so messy and I just wanted to make her feel bad so I said yes. “ He pauses, “I said yes and so I went to you since I knew you liked me-“

“Jesus,” you wince, embarrassment creeping up your throat and clogging it up. Your eyes water as you think of how truly fucked up the situation is. 

That day, one month ago, you were right to question Chenle’s intentions. No, he didn’t admire you or see you the way you saw him, you were just easy bait. And everything has been a lie. “I can’t- I can’t do this.”

Chenle tries to stop the tears of guilt that threatened to leak from the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

“No you’re not.” Your bitter words are a shock to Chenle, he had never heard you use that tone with him (or with anyone) before. “You’re not fucking sorry.” Tears of humiliation and frustration run down your face and Chenle wants desperately to cradle your cheeks in his hands, but thinks he might never be able to after this. “It might not have been a big deal to you Chenle, but you were my first kiss, you were the first guy who ever took me on dates and drove me around in his car, you. And I thought you were the first boy who ever liked me.” The smell of him you once loved reeks of the hoodie covering your body, however, instead of feeling welcomed and happy you feel like it’s creeping up the sides of your neck and suffocating you to no end. You groan as you grab the hem of the article and rip it off your body, leaving you in a flimsy t-shirt to combat the winter cold. 

Chenle sighs, “I know you’re mad at me but you’re going to get sick if you walk home like that. It’s cold.”

You scoff in response, “Lucky for you then, because you don’t need to worry about me anymore.” In a quieter voice you say. “I was probably just a burden to you this whole time.” 

The boy immediately opposes the statement, “You were never a burden, I liked hanging out with you. I care about you.” 

“Only because it helped you win that stupid bet, and to make your ex jealous!” You exclaim, finally looking into his sorry eyes. He looks tired, you almost falter in your stance before putting up the wall separating you two that had always been there before the day he drove you home. 

You wished he had never approached you, because the Chenle in your dreams would never do this to you. 

It’s in that moment that you feel the weight of the dove on your neck, your finger move to unhinge it as you place it on top of the hoodie resting against his chest. You watch his jaw tense as he looks at you. You make eye contact one last time with the blonde haired boy in front of you, Before sadly turning away. 

“Y/n please,” it’s the weakest you’ve ever heard his usually booming voice. “Don’t leave me like this. What about our promise, huh? You’re breaking my heart right now.” Chenle knows the attempt to get you to stay is pathetic and desperate but he’s at a loss of what to do. 

Angrily, you spit. “You broke my heart the moment you approached me that day so I guess that promise was made to be broken wasn’t it?” 

Chenle watches you walk away with your arms wrapped tightly around your shaking body. He sees as you walk past a trash can and dump all your letters into it, wiping your tears and starting your journey to the bus stop. 

And he would never share this with you, walks up the trash can with tears in his eyes and reaches into the garbage, picking out every letter in there. He figures it’s the only piece of your heart he can manage to save for himself. It’s proof that the hate you now hold in your heart for him was once love. 

Even if he ruined everything. 

-

You never knew they called it heartbreak because your chest physically hurts this much. At times you feel like throwing up, at others you want to throw all your belongings across your room. The pain was almost unbearable at the beginning, embarrassing and hot flashes of anger running through you constantly as you think back to that moment.

You don’t go to school that Monday, telling your mom you were feeling sick. Which isn’t entirely a lie, especially when you see Chenle’s car pull up outside your house that morning. You feel like throwing up again. You’re angry at him. So so angry that he thinks things will be the same after what he did. That he thinks he can pull up at your house and drive you around after completely breaking your heart. 

You pull the blinds down as your mom comes through your door. “Honey, Chenle is here.”

“Tell him to leave.” You seeth, tears running down your face. You wipe them away frustratedly. “Tell him to never come back here, Mom.”

Your mother watches with sad, sympathetic eyes. Before nodding solemnly and closing the door on her way out. 

Due to a strange urge, you peek through the blinds and wait to see him walk out your driveway. He does, dragging his feet. Much to your dismay, he stops suddenly and turns to face your window. You immediately step away in the darkness of your room, away from the light and Chenle’s eyes. 

-

Three weeks pass, things at school remain the same for the most part. You hang out with Donghyuck like you used to. You try your best to not look over at the athletes table even when you feel Chenle’s eyes on you. However, somethings do change, you no longer spend your class time daydreaming about a certain blonde boy, or writing love letters on the back pages of your notebook about how pretty his eyes look when they catch the light. Instead, you stare out the window of your classrooms, wanting nothing more than to be in your room away from everyone once again. You sigh and look away from the window momentarily before looking up again. You startle as you see Chenle on the other side of the glass. Watching you with eyes that looked like they had a lot to say. You shudder  when you take in the bag under his eyes and exhaustion written all over his face. You want to believe it’s because of you, you hope it is. You hope he can’t sleep at night thinking of you. Nevertheless, you remember what happened on Valentine’s Day and realize you were probably too insignificant to him to have caused him to be this way. 

He softly smiles at you, bringing his hesitant hands up to wave at you, only for you to avert your eyes away from him and to the teacher at the front of the room. 

Chenle looks down dejectedly before continuing his walk, meanwhile you sit at your desk, wanting to escape more than ever. 

-

Three days later, your mother informs you that you have a visitor. “Tell him I don’t want to see him.” 

“It’s not Chenle.” She says before confusedly adding: “He said his name is Jisung.” 

Jisung? What the hell is he doing here? “I’ll be down in a minute.” 

When you finally get down stairs Jisung smiles awkwardly at you before gesturing towards the door. “Do you like milkshakes?” 

-

“What is this about?” 

The words that say heavy on your tongue the whole car ride here finally leave you as you sit across Jisung at Billy’s. He sips his milkshake before clearing his throat to speak. “How have you been?” 

You’ve been really shitty. “I’ve been fine, I guess.”

Jisung hums, rubbing his hand together before sighing. “I guess we should just get straight to the point, then.” He pauses, “Have you spoken to Chenle recently?”

While you figured this meeting had something with Chenle, you still sit up straighter when you hear his name. You clear your throat as if this is a kind of declaration. “No. I haven’t spoken to him since Valentine’s day.” You don’t want to ask about him, so you try the next best thing. “Why- why do you ask?” 

“I haven’t seen him since last week.” Jisung says, something in your stomach doesn’t sit right. “He’s been missing practice, which he never did, and he’s not answering any of my messages or calls. And the pre-final game is tomorrow and no one has heard from him.” 

His words are bazar. Basketball is unarguably the most important thing in Chenle’s life, why would he risk this chance of winning the championship like this? “He hasn’t spoken to me either, sorry.” You say, but your mind is fogged with worry as to where the boy could be. Jisung remains silent for some time before he clicks his tongue. 

“I know what happened between you two.” You avoid his gaze and feel blood rush to your cheeks. “And I think you’re right for not talking to him after that.” 

How could he say that about his best friend? Still, you nod. “But I think you only know a part of what’s really going on here.”

“Huh?”

“I mean, yeah. The whole thing started as a bet, but after a few weeks Chenle told me that something changed. He said he didn’t want to do the bet anymore, that he felt guilty for using you like that because he ended up really really liking you Y/N and I’m not just saying this because he is my best friend or anything but I think when the time is right, you should give him a chance.”

You finally look up at him and realize upon feeling a tear trail down your face that you were crying. You wipe it away quickly and sigh. “I don’t know, Jisung. He really hurt me, I was so embarrassed I felt like I could die.” 

“Sometimes we make stupid decisions.” The ‘we’ reminds you of the story of Jisung and his girlfriend’s love story that Chenle animatedly told you about one night you stayed at his house. You remember wondering how someone as sweet as Jisung could do any of those things, and how his girlfriend could forgive him for any of it.However, you knew the love they had for each other in their hearts was more than the anger due to his actions. You wonder if the attachment you have for Chenle would ever be enough. 

Jisung reads your mind. “I think he loves you.”

Your eyes become wide as planets before you scoff in disbelief. “Don’t say that.” You say, weak hearted.

“He does! While you two were still a thing he wouldn’t stop talking about how cute you were, how good you are at basketball and how you have the same glow in the dark stars on your ceiling that he does.” 

What? You didn’t think cared enough to talk about you or to remember those details. “He told you that?” 

Jisung nods, “And a lot of other things, but I don’t think we’ll have the time.” 

“He… he never told me he loved me.” You thought Chenle had just come into your life as a lesson to always be on your guard, to never let anyone in and protect yourself above others. But now… you wonder if you meant more to Chenle than you thought.

“Take it from me,” Jisung says, “sometimes those 8 letters can be the hardest to say.” 

🏀

Once you’ve parted ways with Jisung, (who offered to drive you home to which you politely declined to, telling him the walk home would give you time to think) you make your way home on your dirty sneakers and think about what Jisung said. 

It’s hard to believe that Chenle would actually say those things about you, while knowing he was playing you. You wondered if it really did change for him like Jisung said, and if he really felt sorry like he was telling you that day in the parking lot. 

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t realize the familiar car parked in front of your house until you hear the voice your heart has been longing to hear for weeks now. “Is Y/N home?” 

You bolt to the nearest bush and duck behind it, close enough to hear their words but far enough that Chenle and your conflicted mother are unaware of your presence. “Oh, I’m sorry sweetie she went out a few hours ago.” 

“Oh.” You flinch when you hear the disappointment in his voice. “Can you tell her I stopped by?” And that I miss her, he wants to say but you don’t know that. “And please give this to her too if it’s not too much trouble.” You hear shuffling as Chenle hands whatever it is he wanted to give you to your mom. 

“I will, sweetie.” Your mom says. “And Chenle?” There's a pause in which he hums. “Get some sleep, honey.”

You can imagine that Chenle throws her his signature polite smile, “I will try, Ma’am.” 

It’s not longer after that you hear his sneakers against the steps of your porch and see him get into his car. You have a perfect view of him from where you are. Watching as he frustratedly runs his hands through his hair and throws his head back against the seat. You don’t know why you feel sorry for him. You know you should be angry but after what Jisung told you, you need to stop yourself from going to him. 

-

You contemplate if even looking inside the bag is a decision. 

It sits in front of you neatly on your bed where you had placed it after your mother handed it to you with a worried: “He looks so tired, Y/N.” Which caused hurt to arise in your heart. 

The bag is a bright red one, the type that usually is full of candies and sweets, maybe flowers. You want to know what is inside manically, but you're afraid about what this would mean for your relationship (if you could even call it that) with Chenle. Is this his final goodbye or is this him trying to get you back?

You had to know.

Upon opening it, you are shocked to see a pale yellow envelope with your name written in Chenle’s messy handwriting on top. You grab it with shaky hands, the texture is different somehow, because for the first time ever, this letter was meant for you.  

Inside, there is a loose leaf paper much like the ones you had sent to him neatly folded. Your heart beats in your ear as you finally see the first words, you breathe in deeply and read away.

“Y/N, 

       I thought for a long time about what I would say to you in this letter, I’ve been sitting on it for three weeks trying to find the right things to say that would convince you to forgive me before I realized that they all sounded tacky and cliche when I read them back. So, i’ve decided to just go with the truth. It’s true that at first I wasn't honest with you, that I only approached you to complete a dare my friends had given me that day and I won’t make any excuses because I was such a huge asshole to you. I was just so hurt that day because of Ava and I wanted to make her feel like shit so bad, I wanted to hurt her like she had hurt me and I used you to do so, Y/N. But after I approached you and started spending time with you,I started thinking back to all the times I would look at you when the sun came in through the window in the English classroom before I had even spoken a word to you. I bet you didn’t know I did that, did you?” 

You didn’t, the you at that time would’ve freaked out if she knew though.

“I remember thinking you were so pretty, that you were untouchable to me so i just never tried. But something changed when i got to know you, i realized that you were the coolest person i’ve ever met, that you were real and that you were there with me whenever i needed someone. No one has ever made me feel so safe and comforted. I became selfish with you because I never wanted it to end. I didn’t want to tell you because i was scared you would hate me do you hate me? The night before valentines i went to your house because i planned on telling you everything the next day, i wanted to see your happy eyes just once more just in case i ruined everything. On Valentine’s day, when i got to school and read your letters. You wouldn’t believe how happy I was to read all the wonderful things you said about me. I was so happy that you held me as close to your heart as I held you to my own. I was going to tell you everything after that, i was going to confess and tell you that i couldn’t go another day with this secret. I was going to tell you how i felt but Ava stopped me, she told me she knew about the bet and then she kissed me and that's when you showed up. I’m so sorry you had to see that, I’m so that i used you like that. I’m sorry that I took advantage of you but I want you to know that I meant everything I told you, I loved spending time with you, and being with your family made me feel so special. I remember thinking we were split aparts and i know that sounds stupid but i really want you to know that i meant it. And every kiss we shared and every time I held you I felt it and I really really really mean it when i say that i loved you. I loved you so much that I didn't ever want to lose you.”

The past tense makes your chest tighten.

“I won’t tell you to forgive me, but your spot on the bleachers looks so empty without you. The pre finals are tomorrow and i would love it if you came, to cheer me on like you used to. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to but I wanted to give you something that would portray how serious I am about this. That if you are willing to come cheer me on with a part of me with you.”

This when you reach into the bag and pull out the item that once laid underneath your letter. The 22 of Chenle’s basketball jersey stares back at you, you gasp as you hold the fabric in your fingers. You had watched him run around the court with this very jersey plenty times before, you knew how much being number 22 meant to him. You were grateful he would trust you so important to him, you really wanted to grab his face and tell him that. Instead, you finish reading the letter. 

“You make me feel brave. And I will forever be sorry for what I did to you, but I mean it when I say I loved you I still love you. 

Please come.                                                         - Zhong Chenle.”

He loves you! Present tense. You could almost jump from joy. You want to see him, tell him you love him too. A million times if you can. You want to say that you forgive him for everything, that you have felt incomplete without him these past few weeks and the Chenle you made up in your mind was too perfect anyway. 

-

Chenle sighs for the upteenth time the next afternoon as he stretches along with his teammates. He tries his best to take his mind off of you for the time being, at least until after the game is over, he needed to focus but he found it very hard when he began to wonder what was going through your head when you read his letter, and if you were coming today.

He startles when he feels a hand on his shoulder. Hopeful, he turns. His hopefulness fades away when he sees Jisung standing before him. 

“Damn don’t look too sad to see me.” He jokes. Chenle shakes his head

“It’s not that…” Chenle explains, biting his lip nervously and subconsciously looks toward the bleakers where your empty seat was. Jisung gets the hint. 

“Chenle,” he says. “It's okay, she’ll come.” 

Chenle wants to ask him how he is so sure, that if he were you, he would hate himself too. Instead, he nods at him and readjusts the waistband of his shorts on his hips as the coach calls for the team to step out onto the court. 

People immediately start cheering for the players as they come into the view, girls go crazy in the stands and the members’ friends and families cheere enthusiastically from the side lines. The players smile and wave at their ‘fans’ doing a lap around the court to warm up and high five audience members. 

Chenle can only bring himself to smile half heartedly and wave weakly due to the fact that your spot on the bleachers still remains empty. 

He sighs out again, puffing his cheeks as the referee finally calls for the first round. That’s when his adrenaline starts pumping and he feels a bit better. 

The game goes on. 

-

Chenle’s jersey is only a bit big on you, almost fitting like something that would be your size, still, you try to pull it down over your hips in a nervous habit. You finally made it to the game, having fun late due to traffic. The spot you usually sit in is occupied by a woman holding a baby, so you decide to stay and watch from the sidelines, standing. 

The first time you see him, he is running across the court so fast he becomes a blur. You only know it’s him because of the head of blonde hair you see in the blurry image. He looks breathtaking as always, his hair being pushed away from his face by a sweat band being an addition to his look you wouldn’t mind seeing again. 

His sneakers squeak against the floor as he gets in position to shoot. You cross your fingers, but something is off. His eyebrows are furrowed in something that doesn’t look like concentration, but more like worry. His legs give him the impulse to jump up and soon enough his arms are shooting the ball towards the basket. You watch in disappointment as it hits against the rim and bounces back at him, he catches it with a frustrated click of his teeth. 

The audience has already begun whispering, having never seen the star player miss a shot. 

One of his teammates comes up to give him a fist bump of comfort, Chenle accepts it but still holds a troubled look on his face. The thought crosses your mind that it might  be because of you, it troubles the organ in your chest as much as it warms it. You notice he keeps glancing at a certain part of the bleachers, this is when you know he meant everything and that he surely is waiting for you. 

“Chenle!” You yell, trying to get his attention.

The boy doesn’t look your way, your voice getting lost in constant shouts and chatter from the people in the crowd. You try again, louder this time. Nothing. 

You groan frustratedly, the boy continues the game the best he can, but he’s out of it. You hate to see him like this, a deep hurt in your chest rising up. You cheer for him as loud as you can, deciding it would be better to wait until after the game to see him. 

As the game is coming to an end, Chenle appears to grow more and more tired and absent. Nevertheless, his team scores the winning point and the audience goes wild, including you. Chenle smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

 You can’t wait to hold him and tell him you forgive him for everything and that everything is going to be okay, and be with him for real this time. To have him be yours and be best friends against, go on nightly drives and have impromptu dance parties, to lay on his bed and count the plastic stars on his ceiling, to kiss him and be close to him. 

And for it to be real.

🏀

Chenle can’t help but feel dejected when your seat was never taken by you. He should’ve known this would happen, that is true but there was a fraction of him that thought you would read his letter and realize how sincere he was, he thought there was a part of you that knew it had been real and there was no way everything he said could've been made up. But he was wrong, and now as he packs his gym bag to go home, he faces the consequences of his high hopes. 

He’s mad, practically throwing his belongings in his bag, he almost throws his phone in the trash can next to him when he hears the ringtone go off. Chenle answers it with an irritated, “What?”

“Hey.” He recognizes your voice that same instant, still he pulls his phone back and makes sure its your caller ID before speaking again. 

“Y/N? Oh my god, hi!” He clears his throat  before repeating himself. “I mean, hi, hey.”

You hold back a laugh, noting his nervousness. “I’m sorry for calling so suddenly.” You decide to tease him, although, unbeknownst to him, you wear standing about 20 feet behind him after finally finding him in the now that the crowd of people has dispersed after the game. 

“No, don’t worry about it. I was actually…” Chenle flicks the zipper of his bag with his nervous fingers, “I was waiting to hear from you.” 

“Were you?” 

“Yeah, I wanted a chance to talk things out with you and uhh… i'm sorry if me asking you to come out to the game was too much or if it made you uncomfortable I didn’t-“

“Chenle.” Your voice cuts his rant short. You internally marvel at the fact that you aren’t the one caught in a nervous ramble for once. “It didn’t make me uncomfortable. I’m here.” 

“You’re here?” Someone clicks in his mind as he frantically looks around him in an effort to find you. When he does, his eyes turn soft and a smile takes over his face. “You came.” 

You nod at him, feeling a bit overwhelmed when you finally make eye contact with him. There are people between you too, Chenle begins to close it as he walks forward. “I did. I just wanted to tell you that I missed you.” 

“I missed you more, I swear on it.” He replies.

Your eyes burn, you wipe them and lighten the mood. “And that Curry would be sad to see you so out of it at a game.” You click your teeth jokingly. “What do you think he would say if he saw you like that cause of a girl?” 

He laughs, “I think he would understand, after I tell him how amazing you are.” 

You blush. “I also wanted to tell you that your jersey smells like you, and I like it.” This makes him beam, speeding up his footsteps that carry him to you. 

“Is that it?” He asks, jokingly. 

“And that I love you, Zhong Chenle. Not the Zhong Chenle that I had a crush on for 3 years and not Number 22 but you. The rawest versions of you. I love all of it and that i forgive you for everything.” He slows his pace in shock, his chest heaving. 

“You mean that?” His voice is wavering and you can see the flush on his cheeks from how close he has gotten. Suddenly, he is taking big steps until he is directly in front of you. He puts his phone down and his pretty eyes look directly into your own. 

Chenle’s face is hopeful, happy and lovestruck. He whispers: “You love me?”

You can only nod, overwhelmed. Chenle smiles wide, you can almost see his molars and his eyes disappear. “Say it.” He says, in a wondrous tone. 

“I love you, Zhong Chenle.” 

“Oh my god, yes!” 

And he’s kissing you, arms wrapping around you and pressing your body against his, his finger grip at the jersey on your body and he moves his lips against yours. Every memory that you have ever shared, every kiss, every touch, and every laughing fit come to your mind. It’s all you can think about as you think about this boy. You don’t think about the bad part, because that doesn’t matter anymore now that Chenle is yours and you are never letting go.

-

4 months later; Graduation 

“Chenle! Come on!” Jisung yells as he sees the boys floppy newly dyed orange hair amongst the crowd of people. 

You were all posed for a picture, blue cap and gowns adorning your bodies and your parents huddle you together for a picture. “I’m coming!”

Your boyfriend appears from the crowd with his cap in his hand along with a giant bouquet of flowers. He walks directly to you, extending it with a smile. “For you.” 

Your friends start squealing, playful hitting you and Chenle and your parents smirk at each other at the portrayal of young love before them. You cover your face with your hands to hide your blush. Chenle laughs and hugs you to his side. 

“Y/N! Chenle! Pose for the picture!” 

The two of you run to where your other friends are posing, haphazardly getting into the frame and posing crazily. 

The air is full of laughter and youth as the sun begins to set on your time in high school. For a moment, you’re too busy basking in the presence of the relationships you have developed while in there that you forget you won’t be seeing these people every day like you had been for so many years. Or that your lives might take completely different courses and things won’t be the same after this. Instead you allow yourself to enjoy this moment. 

🏀

You do think about it when you are on your way home though, in the passenger’s seat of Chenle’s car. His hand holds yours over the gear and he smiles to himself while humming along to the songs on the radio, unaware of the internal conflict going on in your head. 

It wasn’t until he parks outside your house that he realizes that something is wrong. 

“What is going to happen to us now?” Is your reply to his questioning. Chenle’s eyebrows furrow.

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean-“ you collect your thoughts, “high school is over, and we’re going to go to college and we will be so busy and what if-“ 

“Whatever you think will happen, won’t happen.” 

You look at him, offended that he could dismiss your worries so easily. “You don’t un-“ 

“I do understand. You’re worried that now that we won’t see each other every day that we’re going to drift apart, right? And that we won’t be together, am I right?” 

You nod silently. 

“Y/N, how many times am I going to tell you that I’m crazy in love with you? I won’t let you slip out of my hands, baby. Not again.” Chenle says firmly, sincerely. His eyes widen so you can see right through him and know he is telling the truth. 

His pale hands come up to cup the sides of your face, making you face him. Your tear filled eyes meet his own. He brushes away your tear that rolls down your cheek. “I’m sorry, I was just overthinking.” You say.

“Don’t be sorry.” Chenle shakes his head, leaning forward to kiss your cheek lovingly, letting it linger for a few seconds before pulling back. Smiling upon seeing your smiling face. 

It happens in a flash, now that the moment was right. Chenle gasps, starling you. “What?! What’s wrong?!”

“I love this song!” And he’s turning it up all the way on the car radio, rolling down the windows and stepping out. “Come on, Y/N!” 

You don’t let him see the pure happiness on your face that you wanted to mask with annoyance. Chenle dances on the sidewalk crazily and you laugh in the passenger’s seat. You decide it was best to not let your boyfriend embarrass himself alone, wiping the excess of your tears and step out of the car. “M’lady has arrived to the dance party!” He exclaims. 

And as you start dancing wildly together, the sun begins to set causing a golden hue to fall over your features. Anyone watching the scene could either think that you’re crazy or they will see what is really there: split aparts that have finally found one another. 

Chenle thinks so too, he stops dancing for a bit to catch his breath and just watches you. He remembers the pain it took to make you his, how much you both cried and the beginning of the relationship was far from ideal. But there is no doubt in his mind that there are not enough glow in the dark ceiling stars in this world that will amount to the love he harbors for you in his chest. He was so happy that he had met his split apart, he couldn’t thank the universe enough. 

This when he reaches forward and spins you around to face him. His chest against your own, you feel the rumble of his words from his chest when he says: “I’m so glad I found you.” And then he is kissing you, and the ground seems to melt away from your feet. You’re floating hundreds of feet in air and forget to take a view of your neighborhood from up here because Chenle is all you can think about. Because he makes you feel this way. You whisper in between kisses, he smiles knowingly, he feels it too. 

“We. 

Are.

Off.

Our.

Feet.”

#chenle #zhong chenle #nct dream #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct #nct 127 #nct 127 scenarios #wayv #wayv scenarios #nct imagines #nct fanfiction #nct fluff #nct angst #nct chenle #nct dream chenle #nct dream fanfiction #nct taeyong #nct mark #nct yuta #kpop fanfiction #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #nct smut #8 letter #nct jisung #jisung park

[nepenthendline]

Trust - Tsukishima

wow is this actually part 2 of what I started like two months ago? mental

this is what was going to be the reality series but honestly, we all know thats gonna take ages for me to actually find motivation to do so im just doing them as and when I feel like it lol

Summary: Your relationship with Tsukishima isn’t going as strongly as you wanted, but Tsukishima is struggling to trust that you won’t hurt him (angst but it doesn’t end badly, 2.7k)

Tsukishima had been part of your life for the last two years, you both now being in your third year of high school. You had been in the same class every year, and little interactions such as brushing past each other to get to your desk, and asking him for a pen every now and then, turned into a budding friendship that left you both feeling safe and settled. You’d become close friends with Yamaguchi who was also in your class, so spending more time with Tsukishima was unavoidable. You were thankful for it though; both of you were.

Tsukishima was difficult; you either loved him or hated him, and unfortunately most of those who loved him were girls who thought he was hot and had never actually spoken to him, but his cool persona alluded them. Even you at first found his personality a little too prickly, not knowing how to deal with his teasing or aloofness, but slowly and subtly, you began to see these little parts of him that drew you closer. 

Like the evenings where the three of you would hang out and his walls seemed to fall a little to the point where you’d see him smile and let out little giggled that he hid behind his hand, the time when you went to a museum together for a school project and watched as he beelined for his favourite exhibitions and spent hours reading every single informative poster, or how he would present you with small encouragements whenever you were getting overwhelmed. He was more than his teasing, his remarks and the detached role he played. There was a warmth to him that sparked at times; this particular quality that surfaced whenever you needed someone to talk to or take time away with.

He hated that you had become such a big part of his life, but he didn’t want it to end. You were so different from him, yet so similar. There was a brightness to you that he could never emulate, but you understood him. You never got pissed off with his, sometimes rotten, personality; you listened to him and you never once pushed him further than he was comfortable with. He appreciated it, but he had no idea what to do with that. Slowly, he noticed how his heart would race slightly whenever he was around you, how his palms got a little sweaty and the way you plagued his thoughts way into the night. 

Late into your second year, you confessed your feelings to Tsukishima, someone accidentally as you had been ranting to him about your thoughts recently one evening. Shockingly to you, he accepted your confession. Even more shockingly was that he didn’t tease you at all for your feelings towards him, but instead offered you a nod, and a ‘me too’. 

You were nervous, but excited at how your relationship could progress and deepen with him. There was a sense of pride in you about how this distant boy had chosen you, that maybe there was someone good enough for him and that would be you out of all the others. And that you would get the be the only one that heard about his secrets, his deep thoughts, his happy moments where he couldn’t help but smile, and darker ones. That you would be the one who could warm his heard and show him a life of light. 

It was never like that. After 6 months together, it was as if nothing had changed between the two of you. Sure, you hung out together away from Yamaguchi at times, and you still talked to him when you needed to offload at points, but it was like you were just friends. The relationship wasn’t bad by any means; he was never nasty to you and he showed you nothing but respect. It was as if his walls were being rebuilt, one brick at a time. 

He rarely told you how he was feelings or his thoughts, he never showed any sign of vulnerability to you, but he also rarely showed love. You didn’t want to get ahead of yourself, after all you hadn’t been together for that long, but it felt like any previous feeling he had for you had disappeared. But maybe not? There were nights were you’d be talking, sitting on his bed together, and his hand would brush over to yours, lightly trailing over your skin as his eyes focused on you. He seemed so settled with you, so calm, and he would talk to you, tell you things about his past and his struggled. But then the next day he would keep his distance, barely laying his eyes on your or sharing his mind. You’d walk into class and he’d simply place his headphones on, turning his head away from you. 

His mind was tormented, and you knew that. He had told you on a couple nights about the haunted thoughts that spiralled in his brain often, of the anxieties that built up in him that he wasn’t worthy, that there was no point trying because it was already decided for him to fail. Even if he didn’t tell you, it wasn’t so hard to figure out when you actually paid attention to him. Often at school or around his club members, he’d mention how he could never compare to anyone else and that he was merely an inferior being. 

And so he pushed. He pushed people away with his quick quips and his disinterest in anything or anyone. His brother, his team and even you. He removed any chance of himself getting hurt, or rejected, or used. He wasn’t going to make a fool of himself and put his heart into things that were only going to hurt him in the end. If it wasn’t for the way his heart twisted in pain at the idea of leaving you, he would have never let you into his life. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, but he knew how things were going to play out, so he did the next best thing and pulled himself away from you. Every day, he tried to drown out the thought of you in his mind, the idea that, possibly (almost definitely), he wanted to be your everything. Because if you hurt him, he would have nothing left. It would simply prove every worry, every excruciating thought he bottled up for the past many years. 

You two were sitting in his room, somewhat late into the evening, with him laying on his back on his bed with his headphones on, reading a magazine, and you sitting sideways on the bed too with your back resting against the wall. You were reading a book before, but your attention on that bad been long gone, and now deeply set on your thoughts. You looked over to Tsukishima, you boyfriend, although you’d never have guessed if it wasn’t for that fact that you were the one that asked him out. 

His expression looked so gentle though, something you didn’t see too often expect the odd times where you’d catch him looking at you. His honey eyes moved side to side as he flicked through the magazine, and his fingers often drummed against the pages in what you assumed was the beat of his music. You really couldn’t blame half the girls in your class that gushed over how attractive he was.

“What?” His voice suddenly jolted you out of your stare. You quickly looked away with your cheeks burning a little. 

“Uh-nothing,” you stuttered in a low tone, picking up your book again and doing your best to just look like you were reading.

“You were going to burn a hole in my skull if you had stared any longer,” he teased, raising his brow. 

“Sorry,” your voice was quiet, weak, as you barely acknowledged what he said. You were too focused on this wandering worries that swirled around inside. You felt him shuffle beside you, putting down the magazine and lifting the headphones off. He sat up, pulling his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms loosely around them. 

“What is it?” The frown on his face and the way he searched yours was mismatched to the annoyance in how voice, but you were used to it. Honestly, if you said nothing, or didn’t speak, he wouldn’t make you go on and you knew that, you could easily make it out to be nothing. He knew you were lying when you did this, but he wasn’t going to make you talk, and he didn’t want to seem like he cared too much to get it out of you. 

“Kei, what do you think about us? About me?” You asked hesitantly, turning to look at him. You couldn’t back away anymore. 

“Huh? What do you mean?” His eyes widen a little, and he sat up a little stiffer than before. 

“Do you have feelings for me, or not?” As much as you wanted to tiptoe around this, Tsukishima was the master of getting out of difficult conversations and bluntness was exactly what he needed. 

He turned his head away from you, looking at the floor beside his bed and took a deep breath.

“I’m with you, aren’t I?” 

“That doesn’t answer my question. Do you have feelings for me, or not?” You repeated. He turned back to look at you, his eyes small as he squinted at you from behind his frames. 

“Yes, I do,” he replied, letting out a sigh. Hearing that should have made you felt comforted, loved even, but it set fire to this anger in you.

“You don’t act like it,” his brow raised at you, as if edging you to continue, “we’ve been together for 6 months and what? I probably speak to you less than I did before we were dating, and you don’t seem to care at all.” You let out a heavy breath, looking away from him and staring at his wall. “I’m used to you being distant, but I thought things might change when we agreed to this. I feel like you’re just pushing me away. If you don’t feel anything for me when why lead me on instead of break up with me?” You spoke with a little more hostility than you intended, but you’d been overthinking this for a while now, and it felt good to say aloud. 

“I said I do have feelings for you, so can’t we just leave it at that?” He stood up, walking over to his desk and leaning over it, one arm holding himself up and the other picking up his water bottle. 

“Then why don’t you show me that? Why don’t we talk more than we do? Why don’t you hold my hand or hug me, or even kiss me? Why do you barely even acknowledge my existence when I’m around?” Your voice grew as you spoke, flooding the room. The room was plummeted into an awkward silence after you spoke; Tsukishima said nothing, and stood over his desk. All you could hear with the thump of your heart and your breathing. 

“What do you expect me to do?” He spoke, a bitterness in his voice. Your sight became blurry with tears that threatened to fall, what you expected of him? As if this some transaction that the two of you were involved in?

“I don’t expect anything from you, but if you do have feelings for me then surely you’d want to show me that? And let me show you too?” You lifted up from the bed, quickly coming to his side, “we could be so good together if you let us.” Your lip quivered; thoughts filling your head that maybe this was it, this would be the end of you together if Tsukishima decided he didn’t want this anymore or that he never did. Standing beside him, you saw his close his eyes, his head falling down towards the ground. 

“We could be. And then what if we aren’t?” You barely heard him as his muttered, laced with a poison you’ve never experienced before.

“Huh?”

“What if you decide you don’t want this and then leave? What if we both put all our heart into this, and it goes to shit? What’s the point?” He turned to you, his eyes wide and flaring. 

“W-well we can work things out. It’s not going to be perfect but we can deal with issues when they come up.” He pushed up from the desk, standing inches above, looking down towards you. His eyes glowed in the dark of his room, but it wasn’t a bright one, more like the light of a raging, agonised flame. 

“And what if you decide I’m not enough?” The silence returned as you stared at him, your jaw slack and left speechless. You saw him swallow hard as his throat wobbled, but he remained stiff in his spot. “The more I love you, the more it’s going to hurt when you leave.” 

Confused, your brows knotted together and your head titled as you looked at him. “Leave? I’m not going to leave you.” The corners of his lips curled upwards into a sickening grin as he let out a dark, sarcastic chuckle.

“Of course not.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” you said, firmly, your hands tightening into fists as you watched him. “Look, I can’t promise you that everything’s going to be perfect between us because it probably won’t be, or that we’ll be together forever because neither of us know that, but I can promise you that I’m not going to intentionally hurt you, and that I will do anything I can to make us work. But I need you to trust me.” 

His head turned to the side, looking away from you as his fingers fiddled together. You moved forward, slowly brushing your fingers against his, then taking his hand when he didn’t flinch away. “I know it’s going to take a while, I understand. I came into this knowing that, but if you want this too then I need you to try.” You lifted a hand and gently placed it on his warm cheek. You felt him ease ever so slightly into your touch, and you guided his face to look towards you. “Yeah, it’s going to hurt if this doesn’t work, but it could be so amazing, and we won’t know that until we try,” your voice cracked, and you bit your lip to hold back your tears. 

His eyes were glassy, empty-looking as he stared back. You both stood still, quiet for a few moments. You were just wishing he would say something, do something. You didn’t expect him to start gushing his love to you, but just something that would show you he wanted this, and that you could both move on together. You searched his face but it was as if he wasn’t even there, simply an empty shell of a body that had already been devoured by the demons in him. A single tear rolled down your cheek and you let your hand fall from his face. 

Just as you were about to take a step away, he pulled you into his arms, trapping you close to his pounding chest. One arms wrapped around your waist and the other holding your head close, shaking a little. You let out a gasp, but relaxed into him, hugging him back. 

After a few moments, you let yourself nuzzle into his chest, tightening your grip around him for the first time. It felt so comfortable, so natural being in his hold. 

“Please, just let me in,” you croaked, tears staining his shirt. His fingers tangled themselves into your hair, the other hand digging into the skin on your hips as he rested his head on yours. “If you think you could, let yourself love me, please.”

He nodded, tilting his head down to place a kiss on your head, leaving his lips to rest there as he shut he eyes, breathing in your scent. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever be enough for you, but I’m too selfish to let you go.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu scenarios #haikyū!! #Haikyuu x reader #Tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei x reader #Tsukishima x reader #Haikyuu angst

[disney8733]

finding our song book one

begging

The lights of the stage flashed on showing the band members on it. You could hear the hum of the lead starting the opening of the song “ Put your loving hand out, baby 'Cause I'm beggin'' The rest of the band starts to join in the song known as, Beggin’. From the right side of the stage, you could see him as the main bass of the band Daichi Sawamura, A five foot nine well-built dark-haired brown-eyed man with thighs so thick they could crush a watermelon in half. It was the beginning of the trash heap tour for Junkyard scrap. The alternate punk rock band that everyone knew. They were known for being an attractive upcoming popular All-Star Band. Their lead singer had an amazing voice that could go and reach the low notes of a song but sound smokey and sweet and loving. Their bass guitarist could play the strings of his bass like nobody else. Their lead guitarist could play any guitar ranging from electric to ukulele. And there was their drummer. He was the rhythm of their band and could make a beat out of a pencil tapping on a table. But that's not all the band had to offer oh no there is much more. At first glance, junkyard scrap looks like a normal band but that's not all they had. Each one of the band members could do more than just what they were known for. junkyard scrap was nicknamed The Multiverse band, their lead singer Kōtarō Bokuto Also known as the owl was a Bombastic, friendly, energetic guy. Also known as The Moody one tending to sometimes in the middle of an interview going into an “emo mode” because he was sad. Bokuto could also play the drums, guitar, and song right to a certain extent. Tetsurō Kuroo the lead guitarist, is also known as rooster head due to the way his hair looks. Although he looked laid-back, he always seemed to be scheming for something and liked to provoke others' well-dishing outside remarks to them. But the truth of reality is that true karoo is a kind of surprisingly genius man both in music and somehow chemistry. The man could not only play electric guitar but also the bass, the acoustic, the ukulele, the piano, the trumpet and is an absolute god at writing love songs. Daichi Sawamura The bass guitarist of the group. Known as the dad of the group he's responsible, caring, understanding, and patient. Except for when you piss him off then he becomes utterly terrifying and everybody seems to be attracted to that. He can also play the electric guitar. If and when he does sing it's a very low soft and sweet velvet voice. And lastly Hajime Iwaizumi on the drums. A stubborn yet reliable member of the band with a strong intimidating vibe. With a firm yet caring attitude towards the rest of his team everyone tends to respect him and all his fans see him as a bad boy. He can also sing very well. These four young men make up the group known as Junkyard scrap. Clear their fan base they were gods that can play music like nobody else the hottest things on Earth. But to the four of them, they were just a bunch of friends who decided to play at a concert one night with the rest is pretty much history. From the crowd, you can hear the girls screaming their heads off for Daichi. Indicating that they were playing the song ashes which was sung by the drummer Iwaizum. “I fell in love with a boy I met in hell”. As the concert continued The Stylist walked up to their manager Kiyok.

“Are we going to do an outfit change?” the stylist asked

“Not that I know of unless Bo has other plans” She replies with a heavy sigh. Bo had a habit of taking his shirt off in a particular song known as Glory and throwing it in the crowd because according to him the song had just such a “vibe” and “he was so pumped he didn't know what he was doing”. The entire band called them out for just wanting to take his shirt off for no reason. And he did not deny or confirm this action. As the two were talking at that very moment You could hear Kuroo starting to play his electric guitar to the notes of none other than the song Glory. Kiyoko Turn to The Stylist rolling her eyes towards the stage saying “ well the answer to your question is yes Suga, we will be an athlete change in which Bokuto will need another shirt”

“Noted” he replied back quickly leaving her at the side of the stage to go get him a new shirt. At this point, he wasn't surprised he had been with the band as their stylus for the past 6 months and he had gotten pretty much used to the clothes that he had either hand-picked or made himself for Bo, being thrown into the crowd. At first yeah totally annoying the crap out of him. But then the bass player of the band talked to him stating how typically they get the shirts back because most of the fans know but was not allowed to do that anymore even though he still does it. Daichi promised that he would talk to Bo after every concert and yell at him for doing so. Now it wasn't that Suga would say that he was in love with Daichi. But he loves the idea of having a strong Rockstar boyfriend. Though it was never going to happen, he knew that and that was fine. What he didn't know is that Daichi himself had fallen head-over-heels Suga from the day that they met. As the concert ended you could hear the loud roaring of the crowd. The band thanked everybody for coming out and giving them a chance to start a brand new tour.

As the band members came off the stage. They were talking and laughing in a way that made you feel at home.

“That was a good show” Kuroo stated “Even if Bo took his shirt off again” the Rooster continued

“ I told you guys every time you play the song. I just get this feeling that I just can't explain it I just got to be free it's glorious if you try it sometime” Bokuto responded well laughing

“ You know Bokuto. First of all, it's just weird and secondly, you throw away all of Suga's hard work. You jerk” Daichi replied looking at Suga

“Oh, it’s ok. There just close

“No, it’s not ok. It costs us money every time he does it. Right kiyoko” Iwaizumi said

“Sadly Iwaizumi is right,” she said without even looking up from her notes.

“IM SORRY SUGA” Bo bowed his head. Suga just smiled.

“Don't worry, let's go get the shirt back together this time ok” the beautiful silver hair boy stated. As they walked away Daichi couldn't help but stare at Sugawara. To him, Sugawara was a beautiful 5' 8.7" slender-built guy, with light grey hair, and hazel-brown eyes. Not to mention, a birthmark mole under his left eye that Daichi just wanted to kiss. Kōshi Sugawara had a soothing and gentle personality. he kind of acted as a pillar of support for the crew and the band. He was a kind and sweet man. Daichi was unsure of when he had fallen for the man, maybe it was when they first met. That was the start at least.

“You if you ask him out, no one would stop you and every owner would approve,” Kuroo said smiling as they walk to the dressing room.

“I can't I have to Maintain appearance for the band's image” he s simply replied

“ You're joking right, In case you forgot I'm dating Kenma. You know the guy who wright more then half our song” Kuroo Side as he sat down in the chair taking his shoes off

“That's different. You two were dating way before we came to fame” Daichi huffed out as he took his jacket off. Just then Kenma walked while playing on his Game Boy.

“Kuroo,” the short boy said not looking up

“Yes, kitten?” the roster replied

“I want cuddles and apple pie”

“Ok kitten, just let get changed” Kuroo hurried up getting out of the outfit he had on and into sweatpants and a sweatshirt then picked up his boyfriend, leaving the room to go get apple pie and cuddle. Leaving Daichi alone. “Maybe he’s right,” he sighed as took out his shirt.

“Knock knock Dai-” Suga said, opening the door just as Daichi’s pants groped. Leaving him in nothing but his boxer. “OH, MY GOD IM SO SORRY I- I’ll um” He stumbled to figure out what exactly should say.

“It’s fine, just give me a sec,” Daichi said as he grabbed his sweatpants, He had decided to leave his shirt off for a multitude of reasons, mainly because he wanted to make Suga blush. “So I'm guessing you need the outfits from the performance today,” He said as he smiled. “Um yes please… and thank you” Suga replied calmly. Daichi nodded, picking up the clothes in the room and heading them over to Suga. Just as Suga took them he ended up trying over his feet, falling on Daichi. When Suga opened his eyes he realized both of his hands were on Daichi's chest, his shirtless chest realizing. where his hands were he blushed training his face into the color of the Tomato he stood up to grab the clothes and ran to the door. “I'M SORRY...Again… AND THANK YOU… GOODBYE!” He said that he closed the door behind them running down the hallway away from the embarrassment that just happened. Leaving sitting on the floor as red as the color of a tomato. “Your welcome,” he said to no one but himself.

To be continued

#kōtarō bokuto #daich #tetsurō kuroo #kuroo #iwaizumi hajime #hq iwaizumi #kenma #sugawara koushi #haikyuu #bokuto #akaashi

[thebiasrekkers]

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff | Smut

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence (bloody violence), Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Additional Warnings: Video footage of torture, graphic physical violence, captured/kidnapping

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,778

Tag List: @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali​, @shrimpmsg​​,

AN: It’s about to get dark, dark, and even darker still. I just want to remind everyone that I love you all for coming on this journey with me. Thank you for loving this story and remember that you are loved.

Chapter 49: Danger

“You’re in danger right now, why are you testing me? Why are you testing me? Stop confusing me.“

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Three Days Later Seoul – Hannam; Yongsan District South Korea

Hoseok took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned back in the plush leather chair. Soft music played from the stereo in the corner of the room; a semi-vain attempt at quieting his thoughts. They were pervasive, loud, and extremely unwelcome these days. Namjoon insisted he take the day off, reassuring Hoseok that both he and Yoongi could handle things while he was away from the office. He wasn’t one to be fussed over, but even he had to admit that the mounting stress from the last few months was finally beginning to take a toll on him.

It was quiet. Too quiet. This disturbed him on various levels in ways that he couldn’t possibly describe. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried. He had. Hoseok tried time and again to empty his feelings at Seokjin and Namjoon’s feet. But it always fell short; something felt incomplete about his trepidation.

There shouldn’t have been a reason, however. Hoseok knew this. He’d made his stance very clear with Changkyun the last time they crossed paths with one another. He would not be part of the little games he was attempting to play, and he wouldn’t be coerced into walking back into darkness. None of them would.

Too much was at stake now. They were all slowly building something with their own hands; something that was of some semblance of clean. Happiness fluttered around his brothers like butterflies and he enjoyed that they were able to indulge in the little things in life for a change; things they often took for granted when they were living in the countryside.

Anastasia was pregnant, her belly swollen with the life that she was nurturing. Seokjin babied and pampered her and the others were getting used to the idea that they were all going to be uncles. When the topic of marriage was brought up, Seokjin merely smiled. He said nothing else on the matter and they didn’t push. It was clear that he would do things at his own pace.

Raelyn, too, was pregnant. Truth be told, it stung Hoseok in a way that he wouldn’t dare admit aloud. Taehyung loved her and it was clear she cared for him as well. Who was he to get in the way of that happiness, regardless of his own lingering attachments? It wasn’t fair. He wouldn’t be unfair. She was only a month behind Anastasia and Taehyung made a point to notify everyone that Raelyn was forever spoken for. No one mentioned marriage at all since Taehyung had plans of his own.

Jungkook and Eden were now living together. He remembered the look on his youngest brother’s face when he closed on the house, notifying the others that he would be moving out of their home in UN Village. The others protested at first. They didn’t think it was necessary for Jungkook to move out when Eden could have easily moved into their home instead. They had plenty of room and privacy. But after a conversation Hoseok had with Jimin and Jungkook both, he realized that it was the better option. He didn’t want to pour salt into any wounds. Especially not Yoongi’s.

It came as a surprise, at first, when he’d heard about Yoongi’s relationship with Eden prior. None of the others poked or investigated their brother, believing that he was going off to be with someone he cared about after being dragged through the dirt in the underground. While he knew that Yoongi’s loyalty was absolute and he cared deeply for his brothers, sometimes even The Lightning Claw yearned for an escape from the shadows that clung to their ankles persistently.

As he leaned back in the chair, he pressed his forearm against his temple while his other hand rested along his stomach. Dark eyes idly stared at the ceiling, looking at nothing in particular. His heart beat softly against his chest and he drummed his fingers along in time with the sound. He hummed a tune to himself, closing his eyes as he took a moment to think about everything they’d gone through to reach this point. It was a long journey – seemingly endless. Ten years flashed by so quickly that Hoseok often questioned if it was a dream they were all sharing; one where they hadn’t been able to wake up from yet.

So much fighting, stealing, and climbing over horrifyingly large mountains. Their knuckles burned white and their fingernails bled from how hard they were holding on to both themselves and their goals. Reaching the peak of the mountain, gazing over the horizon – over their kingdom – Hoseok could claim that it was something they could look back on with a mild feeling of fondness.

He couldn’t help but wonder if things would be different had they all decided to remain in their hometown.

Letting his arm fall against the armrest of the chair, he scoffed and shook his head. What’s the point of worrying about that now?

They all decided things together. They agreed to uproot themselves and walked hand-in-hand into the pits of Hell. Hadn’t everything they’d accomplished to this point, means be damned, been the result they wanted? It was all so they could have a better life at the cost of their innocence.

Im Changkyun had been right about one thing. Sacrifices had to be made. They had to be willing to make them.

The soft chime of the doorbell rang throughout the house. Hoseok sat up, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Looking at the video phone, he picked it up as the person near the front gate lifted his face toward the camera. The young man wore a uniform, presumably a delivery service. He had a small package in his arms. He waved to the camera and Hoseok felt his brows furrow. He wasn’t expecting a delivery.

“Can I help you?”

“Uh, yes Sir? I have a delivery for Jung Hoseok?”

“Who’s it from?”

“There’s no return address, Sir.”

He sighed. “Just leave it.”

“It’s requiring that someone sign for it, Sir.”

Something uncomfortable settled in the pit of Hoseok’s gut. He could have just told the delivery boy to go away and have the package returned to the shipping company. It wasn’t like he’d be punished for it and Hoseok was certain he hadn’t ordered a parcel. If anything, this was a potential headache in the making and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with it.

“Uh, Sir? Are you there?”

Hoseok pressed two fingers to his forehead and groaned. “Fine, I’ll be right out. Stay there.”

Rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, he exited his office and headed toward the front door. Sliding into a pair of sneakers, he grabbed his wallet and slid it into the back pocket of his slacks. The security lock beeped behind him as the door closed and he slowly trudged down the winding path of the front garden toward the front gate. He entered the passcode and pulled the gate open slowly, his back rigid as he prepared to brace himself for anything that might have attempted to catch him off guard.

The young man smiled, holding out the small parcel toward Hoseok. He took it, cradling it under one arm, while he signed the tablet with the stylus. The delivery man checked his signature, bowed, and bid him a wonderful rest of his afternoon. Hoseok merely nodded, closing the gate and began heading back toward the house when the security lock beeped again.

Mindlessly inputting the passcode, he entered the house while examining the package. It was a simple white box with red and blue accents around it – presumably the logo and color scheme of the shipping company. It was no longer than a standard envelope and as thick as two decks of cards. His name was on the front but like the delivery man stated, there was no return address.

For the sake of argument, Hoseok shook the box and heard the soft rattling sound of something hitting the inside along all four corners. Whatever was inside was small and light. He tossed the box up and down, confirming much of the weight was from what was concealed in the box. Opening the flaps from one end, he held the box at an angle and a small USB thumb drive fell into his palm. There was nothing about it that stood out; just a simple red and black thumb drive with the manufacturer’s logo on it. He shook the box again but nothing else was inside.

Tossing the box into the nearby waste bin, Hoseok entered his office and closed the door behind him. His legs moved toward his desk and he flopped into his chair. Pulling up a virus scanner on his computer, he made sure it was ready and waiting before sliding the thumb drive into one of the USB ports. Two minutes went by and the virus scanner confirmed there was nothing malicious on the drive, deeming it safe to open.

Clicking on the icon for the drive, there was a folder with his name on it. He opened it and saw three files inside: two video clips and a text document. There was nothing urgent on the text file’s label. It merely read For Hoseok. The video clips, however, had two different dates on them: three days ago and today, followed by the numbers 1 and 2.

He clicked on the first video.

The picture was dark, showing that whatever room the video was being filmed in had poor lighting. He could make out a couple of silhouettes, but there weren’t any distinctive features that could help him discern who the figures belonged to. About ten seconds into the video, a light clicked on – illuminating one of the people in the video.

It didn’t take him long to recognize who it was and the moment he did, Hoseok thought his guts had fallen out of his body.

In the video, there was a woman sitting in a chair. She was tied up with what looked like a combination of regular ropes and large chains. Her mouth was gagged with a bright red cloth and her head hung forward, the light over her head shadowing the rest of her face. The intensity of the light hanging over her made it only slightly difficult to discern her skin color, but her dark curls that fell around her neck and across her shoulders was unmistakable. Something dangled from her neck – he could only assume it was a necklace of some kind.

But he still couldn’t see her face.

“No,” he whispered while shaking his head. He could feel a cold sweat forming on his brow. “There’s no way that’s…”

All the moisture left his mouth in mid-denial. A masked man grabbed a handful of the woman’s curls, yanking her head back. A muffled yell of outrage pushed from her chest, lost against the bright red fabric pressed over her mouth. Her face was fully illuminated in the light and even Hoseok could no longer deny who was sitting in that chair.

It was Eden.

The video was only ninety seconds long and it abruptly ended with a hand holding up two fingers in front of the camera lens. The person in the video was telling him to click on the second video file.

He clicked on the other video file labeled with today’s date.

It was the same nondescript room and Eden was still sitting in the chair. A trail of blood seeped from her temple and her shirt was torn open from the neck to her stomach, exposing her bra and skin. The necklace continued to hang from her neck and he could see there was a ring looped through the chain. It appeared that her shoulder was injured, the denim jacket stained a darker shade of blue on just her right shoulder. A large cut decorated her thigh and he could see where the blood blossomed across her jeans – staining her entire upper leg red.

Eden looked like she was fading in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, water was splashed over her face and chest, jolting her awake and it appeared that she was attempting to focus on her current predicament. When it seemed like the answer was dawning on her features, Eden raged through the bandana over her mouth, her body rocking back and forth viciously to break free from her restraints. One of the men backhanded her hard and she went limp, her head rolling forward.

Hoseok saw the blood leaking from beneath the gag.

The video ended.

Horror and fury tore through Hoseok’s entire body, threatening to rip him asunder. His shoulders vibrated from his anger and his vision blurred from the onset of furious tears. Getting his hands to steady over the mouse was a task in and of itself. When he managed to finally tether it down to move it, he clicked on the text file with his name on it.

It felt like the ground opened beneath him and swallowed him whole.

Hoseok Hyung,

I have to say, I’m impressed. Truly. I can’t find a single weak point in your defenses. But that shouldn’t come as a surprise, should it? You’ve always been so careful; always fully aware of your surroundings. The others are the same; a habit they’ve picked up from you, perhaps?

It’s a shame that same skill wasn’t embroiled in your women.

Not that it’s their fault. When you believe that you’re safe, what reason do you need to keep your guard up? Blissful ignorance does that to a person. Believing you’ve won makes you sloppy.

Your brothers have become sloppy, Hyung.

As interesting as it would have been to go after the women carrying your brothers’ children, I’m not a monster. Besides, Eden is the strongest of them and breaking her will only prove my point further.

That you’ve all grown weak in the light.

Hyung, this is my final offer. Stop letting the light blind you. Stop letting those weak dreams and ambitions dictate the rest of your lives. You can’t protect the things you love when you don’t have the power to stop anyone who would try to take it from you. You had that power and you threw it away.

And for what?

For love? Success? So you can lay in your graves, close your eyes, and think you’ll greet the Reaper with a nice clean conscience? Don’t be ridiculous.

Let’s see how long it takes you to find her. You already know asking for the police won’t do you any good. We have the Chief in our back pocket; we have for years.

By the time you read this, the boys and I will be out of the country on a business trip. Tracking us down will just be a waste of time. Both yours and hers. Every minute counts and the longer you take to find her, the more she’s going to suffer because of your inability to act.

The clock is ticking, Hyung.

And the game is still on.

Good luck.

Im Changkyun

For a moment, all Hoseok could do was stare at the words on the screen. He couldn’t breathe. He could barely think.

Then he saw red.

Hoseok jumped from his chair, grabbed the monitor, and hurled it across the room. The sound that ripped through him was beyond anything a human being should have been capable of making. Glass shattered as it crashed into the wall, breaking into numerous pieces. He picked up the keyboard and began to smash it across his desk, breaking the glass top as the keys popped off and scattered across the floor. Even when the keyboard was split in half, he continued to pummel his desk – creating more spider vein cracks along the surface.

And then he blacked out.

Hoseok didn’t know how long he was out. What brought him out of the darkness was the sound of Namjoon’s voice, as well as his body moving back and forth. Slowly, Hoseok’s eyes opened and he saw his friend looking down at him with extreme concern.

“Hoseok-ah!” Again, Namjoon shook him. “Are you alright? Hey, come on!”

His vision blurred in and out of focus, his head spinning, and he reached out blindly to grab onto Namjoon’s shoulder. “N-Namjoon-ah,” he croaked, realizing how raw his voice sounded, “the boys. C-Call the boys.”

Namjoon frowned, not sure what he was trying to tell him. Hoseok growled in frustration.

“GET EVERYONE HOME RIGHT NOW, GODDAMMIT!”

#networkbangtan #hyunglinenetwork #thekpopnetwork #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fanfics #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfics #bts mafia #bts mafia au #bts crime au #bts crime!au #bts mafia!au #bts angst #bts x angst #bts slowburn #bts x slowburn #bts romance #bts x romance #thebiasrekkers #bts thebiasrekkers #make it right bts #bts make it right

[fragranceofdarkness]

YES THAT MAKES ME HAPPY. OK. badflower is one of my favorites so here are my fav songs: x ana x, girlfriend, animal, drop dead, and ghost

im very scared tumblr is gonna delete this lets hope it doesnt <3

x ana x: this slaps!! im pretty sure if i read the lyrics straight up itll fuck me up but like the music is so fuck you that it almost doesnt match?? i rlly dig this tho!! it has like the spoken parts that parx does sometimes that i fucking obsess over so that makes it like 10x sexier

girlfriend: "girlfriend? i dont have that so i turn to the internet" fucking me. the instrumental is so fucking sick like it makes me want to be gay do crime yaknow?? another song id let beat me up honestly

animal: okay idk who the lead singer is but their voice is rlly sexy and i wish i sounded like that. once again fantastic instrumental but for some reason its reminding me of that one song abt the girl who fucks up her husbands truck bc he cheated and i cant rmbr the name or artist but theyre nothing alike but the instrumentals are?? idk. anyways this song is sick and i am filing it away under songs that will play in my head at random moments in my life and ill have no idea why

drop dead: the drums in particular are sick as fuck and im realizing that uke will probably like this song so ill drop him a link whenever we talk next. im vibing with this song so hard but i cant stop thinking abt the how bad can i possibly be correlations bc they sound vaguely similar and im actually sobbing bc thats so funny

ghost: this is the one i listened to bc of the parxie!! whenever im going through it this is what it sounds like in my head actually. i like this one the best because i relate to it the most oops. these lyrics are rlly fucking me up actually but like in a sexy way.... if i ever made a playlist abt songs i kin this would be on it

~ send song recs!! ~

#if tumblr deletes this ask too im going to the headquarters and demanding to speak w the ceo #also anon have you listened to palaye royale i think they have similar vibes in terms of like theatricalness if that makes sense #like mr doctor man #if you havent heard it theres my rec from me to you #asks #anonymous #long post

[vore-scientist]

In Which Sophia makes an Impractical Discovery (safe/soft M/f platonic GT vore)

A (mini) tale of the mystic woods

Premise: The Princess Sophia discovers a method to incapacitate the half-giant wizard Yonah from inside his stomach. Not exactly a practical method, but it sure is silly!

No warnings! Vore is slightly unwilling but mostly Sophia is just... fed up... heheheh

---

The princess Sophia awoke completely squashed by warmth, and mucus covered flesh. This wasn’t surprising, Yonah had gotten peckish last night and couldn’t be bothered to get normal food. Nope. It had to be live human. So without even asking he had gobbled her right up! Frustrating as Fuck, even if she was turned into glass so she couldn’t be digested.

In a very tantrum like manner Sophia lifted and slammed her feet down. No particular rhythm, and making a not exactly pleasant squelch each time.

Nnnnnnnnnnnnnn

The utterance rumbled down as the Wizard woke up.

Or sort of. He did his very best not to.

“YONAH! Wake the fuck up!” Sophia hissed.

“What is it… I’m trying to sleep.” He grumbled.

She could feel him shift to his side and rub at her affectionately. That earned him another kick.

“Let me out!” she ordered

The rubbing did not stop.

“Naw princess, you’re staying right where you are.” The rubbing briefly became soft jolts as he pat his full belly. Though she couldn’t see his face, she knew he was smiling. Jerk.

“I don’t want to be here anymore! Spit me up!”

Now he sat up. Finally awake enough to hear the harshness in her voice. He sat on the end of the bed, with a hand still pressing into his stomach. Gosh, if she wasn’t mad at him it would be a perfect moment. Well not really. He’d rather still be asleep. There was really nothing like sleeping with a permanently full belly.

“Come on, it’s only been,” he put on his glasses and lit up his eyes to shine upon the hourglass,

“Two hours. Is everything alright?”

He had two hours left of happy fullness (unless he reset the spell, but he wasn't going to try and convince her to do that… my). Two more hours, he wanted to use them! Maybe she was just cranky.

“Why must you be such a evil bastard?!” She bellowed. Pounding at his insides.

Her anger was sour but the massage provided by her punches and kicks were oh so sweet.

Sophia did her darnedest to protest her confinement. With her feet she cycled, kick kick kick kick kick, at the bottom of the stomach! It wasn’t enough to get her point across so she stretched out and with her hands she brought down punches like she was playing a big drum, slamming them into the flesh at the top of the stomach.

Infuriated as the wizard made small sounds of glee as increased her efforts.

Then the soft flesh around her tensed. The small giggles from above stopped. Yonah gasped. It was so loud, so sharp, so cold, that it sent shivers down Sophia’s glass spine. And a second later everything relaxed.  The stomach walls went softer than they’d ever been and the pressure from Yonah’s hand fell away.

As Yonah himself fell off the bed, with a THUMP, onto the floor. It would have hurt a bit if he could feel anything at all. His ears would be ringing with Sophia’s shouts if he could hear anything at all. He could be scared out of his mind if he could think anything at all. The only thing he could do was see whatever was in front of him. And even that he couldn’t see as he had taken off his glasses after checking the time. The world was dark and colorless, even his eyes were dimmer than normal in complete darkness.

“Yonah! Yonah!!! YONAH!!!”

Oh great gods of magic what had she done! For she was sure this was her doing. Yonah wouldn’t just pass out on her like that. And he wasn’t sick. Oh dear what if he had fallen suddenly and deathly ill!!!

It was great not having real blood or a heartbeat for she wouldn’t have been able to calm down enough to feel his slow, dull one. Regular and strong, just gentler. Or hear his lungs breathing shallowly but steadily. He was alive.

But for how long? How long would he be like this? Sophia had extra glass paste, so she could maintain this form for at least two more days. By then either he’d have recovered or would he dead. Right? Sophia didn’t know anything about the limitations of the human body. And Yonah wasn’t human. For all she knew he could go a week without food and water.

There was no point in giving up now, she didn’t need air and did not tire, so she kept screaming his name.

It was only about 5 minutes but it felt like an eternity to Sophia.

Groaning.

No change in heart beat. No other moments. Even the breathing remained the same as the vocalizations were made on the exhale.

“Yonah! Can you hear me?”

There was No real answer but the next groan had a distinct “uh huh” feel to it.

“Can you move?”

The body temples around here but to no avail. When it stopped the heart rate shot up. The next groan sounded like “nuh uh”.

Well, only a few minutes ago he had been completely unresponsive.

Nothing felt right. Everything felt very very wrong. As the fog drained from his brain and he regained feeling all the muggy bliss turned into panic. His brain was working again but his body was not! It felt filled with lead! Of course his stomach was full of glass. And while he couldn’t move, she could, and she was screaming!

No. No. No! It was horrible! How long had he been out? Was it minutes or hours? Or Days!? Was Sophia low on glass? She could be dying!

No… she was asking him questions. If she was in imminent danger she would be screaming to be let out. Not asking if he could do things like speak or move. He answered best he could be his mouth wouldn’t move at all. He could barely manage groans.

When his heart caught up to his brain the blood thundered in his ears. Feeling was coming back to his extremities. He moved his tongue around in his mouth.

“Sophia” he said, a little lispy, but he said it.

“Gods abound! Yonah! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know that would- if you had told me I wouldn’t have even! I’m sorry!”

Had she… done this? He couldn’t really recall much right now. He had to think extra hard. There wasn’t any other explanation.

“Im as surprised as you are, I couldn’t have warned you,” was what Yonah wanted to say but it was much too consonant heavy and it slurred badly.

“Take you time.” Sophia cooed, but his heart didn’t slow. His brain was still firing on all thrusters.

This made no sense! If her squirming had caused this, why hadn’t this happened before!? Surely some particularly large and strong thief should have triggered this reaction. It must be something else. But if it WAS that… He was glad it hadn't been a thief or adventurer. He didn’t know how long he was out but surely long enough for a human to die, or at least getting close to it.

For there were those who had struggled more fiercely than Sophia, those who were larger, who wore armor. Either he was sick, under some spell, or Sophia did something specific and unique.

None of those options were particularly good ones. However His own gasping breath bright him back to reality. And he felt Sophia nearly jump with excitement.

“Yonah!” She called again, “are you ok!”

When he spoke the words actually came out.

“I… I think so. I can’t move.”

“That doesn’t sound ok…”

She stroked his insides. any other time it would’ve have calmed him down.

“I can twitch my fingers!” He said, trying to offset both their worries, “I think I l- hold on.”

Shaking, he sat up. He had to brace himself on the bed frame but he managed it all the same. The effort left him panting, his body was still working against his brain.

“Great! Now spit me up!” Sophia was no longer concerned for him. Well. Nice while it had lasted.

“I will, I will, just.” He stopped to breathe, “need a few more minutes.”

“But you WILL let me out? You won’t go back to bed as soon as you’re able?”

He very much wanted to rest a hand over his stomach, over Sophia, and press down gently. But one arm was pushing against the floor, the other holding onto the bed. If he let go he would fall over.

“Yes, I promise.”

There was silence for a while then-

“Has this… ever happened to a thief?”

The question rang in his head but thankfully he had already thought about this. She too, had realized if it had been anyone but her, they would be dead. Still, Sophia sounded like she didn’t want to know the answer, assuming it had.

“No.” He felt her sigh with relief, “This has never happened before. And I don’t like it.” He added.

“So it was my trashing?”

“I think so…”

“There’s only one way to be sure!”

He didn’t like the devious cackle in her voice, and tended as she started kicking at his insides again.

“Listen!” He said, now able to rub at his stomach, “I agree we need to test this but not tonight.”

“Ok…” she said.

“I thought you wanted to be released?”

“I do! I do!” She insisted.

“I’m going to stand up.” He said, well, he was going to try.

Bad idea bad idea! His head swam and his stomach did summersaults. Which made Sophia do summersaults!

“What’s happening! Yonah! what’s wrong!?”

Sitting back down did not help.

Guess Sophia was getting what she wanted earlier than he’d planned, as he heaved violently.

He leaned over as he threw up. First came a noxious glob if bile, then the princess. As she entered his mouth he stuck in his fingers for her to grab onto, so he could pull her out, and lay her on his lap as he continued to retch. It made his head pound even worse, and his face flushed, a few tears ran down his cheeks.

Eventually he was just breathing hard in between infrequent coughs. Sophia had climbed onto his chest and he held her tightly in one arm.

Before looking at her he drew up some magic to clean himself off. And Sophia. Much better. Now he met her gaze and it was indeed angry, but also mischievous.

“Next time I ask to be let out, don’t fucking argue with me!”

He smiled, “I’ll try to remember that.” And he meant it. “Is there any particular reason you wanted to tonight?”

She closed her eyes and shrugged, “Nope, but  Idon’t think I need one. Sometimes a girl is just done being eaten.”

She reached up to scratch his stubbly cheek, he liked that “Deal with it.”

Fine. He could. He was able to stand now, if a bit jittery, and set her down on the nightstand, dismissing her curse and turning the hourglass on its side to top the clock. There was a rope bridge from the desk to her “room” (which was a massive, golden, ornately decorated, bird cage). But she did not cross it.

She watched Yonah get back into his bed, which he did very slowly. And lay down, facing her, he smiled and closed his eyes.

Well! She said she wanted to be let out! She had said nothing about sleeping in her own bed.

She backed up to the edge of the nightstand and ran, making the easy jump onto the bed.

Yonah opened his eyes, giving her a quizzical look as she climbed over his arm which was draped around his head,and snuggled against his face. The hair on his face was a bit scratchy, but the hair on his arm was soft, and Yonah in general was soft as well. So soft. So warm. And the air was fresh, she had a heartbeat and felt genuinely tired.

“Much better!” She declared. Flipping her braid at his eyes. He closed them again but his smile broadened

Once she got comfortable she felt his lips delicately kiss her back. And then they relaxed, slightly open, to blow a gentle warm breeze across her. While she was mostly ok with being eaten, and occasionally actually enjoyed it, she much preferred to be on the outside of the wizard’s body. She especially loved sleeping tucked into his arms. So strong, so powerful, but so gentle, so careful with her. And she knew he loved snuggling his face against her, even if he didn’t say as much.

And they fell asleep.

[FIN]

[Thanks for reading! please reblog/message me with feedback! for more mystic woods go to vore-scientist.tumblr.com/tagged/+mystic+woods+story or search ‘mystic woods story’ on my blog! For thief stories only search “MW Thieves”]

#safe vore #soft vore #extreme cuddling #g/t vore #gt vore #vore art #vore writing

[hongism]

risky - p.jimin 18+

➻ pairing: jimin x reader

➻ wc: 2.3k im so sorry

➻ genre: fluffy crackhead flirting n smut

➻ rating: nsfw

➻ warnings: public fingering, fingering with rings on, risque~, alcohol involved

➻ summary: you meet jimin in a bar and try to hit on him. it doesn’t end how you thought it would.

➻ @yolokoo​ asked:

“HEOLO CALYSPOA I WOULD LIKE JIMIN AND COCK(tail) AND HOT COCHOLCATE PLEASE MISS”

+

➻ @jintobean​ asked:

“hewwo mIGHT I HAVE SOME WINE AND VODKA FOR mishter jimin where y/n is hitting on him but he’s clueless and thinks y/n is a waiter or something absurd and somehow he ends up liking her and complains that she never made a move. ILY THANK YOU”

➻ a/n: y’all im so sorry idek what happened i have nothing to say for myself tbh

☽     ☾

“Hey, come here often?” You greet with a surprising amount of confidence exuding from your figure. You place one hand on the table, leaning over to look at the man with peach-colored hair. His features are even more stunning up close like this, and you cannot believe that your friend convinced you to do this. You blame the alcohol current running through your system; liquid confidence as some would call it. You have to agree with that statement now, because if you were one hundred percent sober you never would have walked over to this table in the first place.

“O-Oh, not really,” the man stutters in response. A pretty blush paints his round cheeks, a rosy hue that glimmers under the bar’s yellow lights. A wave of arousal rushes to your core just from the sight of the man blushing, and you again blame the damn alcohol in your system.

“That’s such a shame. I was hoping you could show me around some.” You pout and pull your arm off the table to glance at his tablemates. There are two other men with him, although they are far too preoccupied with the drinks in front of them to notice you. The pretty boy laughs, a nervous sound that dies in the din of the bar within moments.

“Co-Could I get some water?” He inquires. “Maybe?”

You don’t know what you’re doing when you say yes. You don’t work here. Hell, you’ve never even been here before. You aren’t wearing any sort of uniform either, but the man must be too tipsy himself to realize that fact. So, in your tipsy state, you agree and spin on your heel to head back to the bar for his requested water.

“Two waters please, bartender,” you request once you reach the wood. Part of you hopes that the man is watching your backside as you move. A one-night stand with the likes of a man that attractive is far too tantalizing for you to pass up, and you can only hope that he feels the same way about you. The bartender passes the drinks your way, and you snatch them up with a bright smile. As you walk back over to the peach haired man, you shoot a wink over to where your friends sit, watching from a distance as you shoot your shot.

“T-Thank you,” the man says as you place one of the waters in front of him.

“Can I join you?” You ask all of a sudden, motioning towards the empty space beside him. The man blinks up at you, and confusion shines clearly on his features. You don’t give him much opportunity to stay confused because you slide across the booth to be beside him. “I’m Y/N, and you are?”

“Oh, uh, Jimin. Park Jimin. Do you – I-I’m sorry, but do you work here?”

“Do I…” You trail off. It’s your turn to be confused and you aren’t sure how this miscommunication started when all you did was try to flirt with the man. “What? No. Uh, it’s my first time ever coming here.”

“Oh! Damn, I-I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, no! It’s totally okay. I’ve been mistaken for worse things than waitress.” You wink as you say the words, and Jimin’s eyes widen as your implications shine through.

“Ah, well, I understand that feeling. Sometimes they aren’t far from the truth though.” Jimin’s words slur a little as he guzzles some water. You watch his Adam’s Apple bop as he swallows, almost wanting to reach out and drag your fingers over the small bulge. You resist thankfully; it would be a terribly strange thing to do especially when he has two friends sitting directly across the table.

“What do you mean?” You ask instead, trying to divert the conversation so that you don’t have to think about touching his milky white skin.

“I’m a male stripper,” Jimin says as though it’s the most casual thing in the world. You choke on air at first then try to recover by gulping down some water, only to choke on that as well. Jimin glances over at you, concern shining clearly in his eyes. “A-Are you okay?” He reaches out to touch your shoulder, fingers meeting bare skin, and it’s like a thousand little jolts of electricity shoot through your whole body. You recover from the coughing fit to stare at him in wonder.

“You – you’re a stripper? I…wow, I never would’ve guessed.”

Jimin all but cackles upon hearing your words. “What on earth makes you say that?”

You flush as his gaze falls over you, a sudden heat to his eyes that has you melting already.

“Y-You just seem… you seem a bit shy.” All the confidence you had earlier dissipates, blown away in the wind by Jimin’s newly revealed nature. His full lips curl into a smirk. It’s almost like he’s treating your interaction like a game, a predator hunting its prey and toying with it before the final meal. Jimin drops a hand to the table and lets it linger near his glass of water. His fingers drum against the wood in no particular rhythm but it feels like your heart is racing along to the same beat.

“Shy, huh? I get that a lot. Many people think that of me prior to seeing me in action.”

“Se-Seeing you in action? Yea, yea, stripping. Yea. In action.” You struggle to get the words out, clothes feeling ten times tighter now, and you press your thighs together at the thought of seeing Jimin in action.

“You’re so cute. Girls like you are so easy to read.” Jimin chuckles and brings a finger under your chin. He lifts it ever so slightly yet you follow the motion like a dog being given a treat. Hot breath ghosts over your lips as he leans closer to you. Just when you think his lips are going to brush over yours, he ducks past your mouth and touches the shell of your ear with his lips instead. “So easy to get hot and bothered with only the slightest glance. It’s adorable.”

You swallow roughly, unable to formulate any proper words. Jimin continues to mouth at your ear. His breath cascades over your skin and causes chills to run down your spine.

“You were so confident when you came to the table, baby girl.” A wave of heat rushes to your core. You clench your thighs together so hard that it hurts but Jimin doesn’t relent. “Where did all that confidence go?” His tongue darts out and drags across your ear. You feel the ball of a piercing running over your skin and have to suppress a moan at the idea of Jimin having a tongue piercing.

One of Jimin’s hands snakes down from the table and hesitates over your thigh.

“Is this okay?” He asks, voice almost husky. You give a subtle nod. You’re far too wary of the two men sitting across the table. While they don’t seem interested in what you and Jimin are doing, you know that could change in the blink of an eye, and you don’t want to risk them seeing you in this state. Still, you have to admit that there is a certain rush to being caught with Jimin’s hand rushing up your thigh. “Words, baby girl. I can’t read your mind.”

“Yes,” you whisper as quietly as you can. Jimin’s fingers clench around your thigh once you mutter the word, cold metal from his rings a sharp contrast to the warmth of his fingers. You whimper ever so slightly. Jimin picks up on it, a low chuckle passing through his lips as he watches you squirm under his touch.

“God, you’re so adorable when flustered like this,” he hisses against your ear. As he speaks, his hand travels further up your thigh, slipping under the material of your dress to find the source of your arousal. His fingers brush over the damp spot on your underwear, and you release another small noise. “I want to see you unravel under my touch.”

Your teeth sink into your quivering lip, trying to keep any further sounds at bay. Embarrassment burns at your skin, and Jimin’s touch persists, dragging over the damp spot with the lightest pressure. It’s enough to be teasing and cause small shocks of pleasure to radiate from your core every once in a while.

All of a sudden Jimin sits back and reaches for his water with his free hand. The other one pushes your panties to the side, revealing your sopping core. He doesn’t hesitate in dipping his fingers into your heat and pushes past the thick strands of arousal to reach your hole. All the while, he sips at his water as though nothing else is going on. Once he takes a large gulp, he faces you again, this time with a teasing smirk to his lips.

“So, Y/N, what do you do for a living?” He asks. Your eyes widen in shock at the question, baffled that he even wants to attempt conversation while his fingers are in your pussy like this. You neglect to respond for a few moments. Jimin’s lips curve down ever so slightly, and his fingers pull away from your heat. You desperately try to keep them in place with your own but he swats your hand away before you can. A high-pitched whine escapes you. Jimin’s eyes grow darker as lust washes over him.

“I-I, uh, I’m–” You can barely speak because as soon as you begin to, Jimin’s fingers push back against your core, one finger dipping into you while his ringed thumb toys at your clit. “I work at a clothing store. Retail. I’m in graduate school full-time.”

“Ah, a smart woman.” Jimin smiles. He turns to the men sitting across the table as he drags his ring over your clit in small circular motions. “Guys, this is Y/N. I think you both were too preoccupied with your drinks to meet her.”

You can’t believe that he’s introducing you while he is knuckle deep in your pussy, but it’s painfully obvious that he intends to carry out an entire conversation while like this just based upon the persistence of his touch.

“H-Hi,” you manage to stutter out. You cannot bear to look the two men in the eye, the burning shame of what’s going on under the table too much to handle.

“What did you say you were studying at graduate school, Y/N?” Jimin asks. He tilts his head in your direction. A playful gleam flashes across his eyes as he pushes a second finger into your core. The curve of his rings drags against your walls, and you instinctively clench around him.

“U-Uh, biology. I’m doing – studying biology.”

“Oh wow! That sounds super neat!” One of Jimin’s companions says, a broad smile stretching across his lips. You mean to respond with a smile of your own but the moment your lips part, Jimin curls his fingers in you and draws out a faint whine. You bite down on your tongue so hard that you think you might bleed. Neither man across the table comments, leading you to believe that they either didn’t notice or are choosing not to embarrass you in the open like this.

You can see Jimin’s lips curling into another devilish smirk as he hears your small noise. He curls his fingers even more, brushing against your sweet spot. He knows that he’s hit it by the way your breath hitches.

“So what do you wanna do with biology? Do you have any plans yet?” The same man persists in talking to you yet you want to do anything except talking at the moment because Jimin is bringing you closer and closer to the edge with his ministrations.

“I, uh, just you know…” You trail off to swallow roughly. Jimin’s fingers continue to fuck into you. “I w-wanna do something in the marine biology field! But if that doesn’t work out I’m u-using biology as a safety – ah, a safety net.” You nearly squeal as you conclude your sentence. Jimin brings you closer and closer to an orgasm, and you can almost taste it. It’s dangling in front of you. You zone out as the man across from you continues speaking, focused solely on chasing your orgasm. Then –

Nothing. Jimin’s touch disappears. He pulls his fingers out of you, flicks your underwear back in place, and acts as though he didn’t just finger you to near completion in the booth at some dingy bar. You whip your head in his direction, and he’s staring back at you with equal tenacity. A moment of silence passes. You can feel the heated stares of the men across the table but pay them no mind in favor of looking at Jimin.

“If you’ll excuse us both, I promised to take Y/N home tonight. She needs to go to bed early tonight, what with school and work.” Jimin nudges you out of the booth with his fingers that are still coated in the juices of your arousal. The look in his eyes tells you that you won’t be sleeping early at all tonight.

☽     ☾

#bhqdrabbles #bangtanhq #btswriterscollective #btsbookclub #ficswithluv #magicshopnet #btsghostie #kpopuniversenet #ksmutclub #kwritersworldnet #park jimin #jimin #pjm #jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin crack #jimin x reader #pjm x reader #pjm smut #pjm fluff #pjm crack #bts #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts smut #bts crack #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts drabble #bts drabbles

[flowerwrites06]

The scene where she gets murdered and you can really see the hatred jimin has for her/ anger/ obsessiveness? The emotions they both were going through, her worries about taehyung, last moment thoughts / fear / betrayal

IM CRY

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Finally. It was going to happen today. Jimin had planned for a good enough moment right when Tempus gave off his prophecy and Taehyung, as he expected, pushed it off because of how drastic it sounded. Perfectly drastic. The prophecy spread across the heavens quicker than expected so the gardens were empty…save for two people. 

Angel would need a snack soon and ask her pretty friend to fetch her something. Unfortunately all the snacks were so so far away. All the way in the palace leaving the great Goddess alone in the gardens, peacefully watching the blossoms flow in the wind she created to cool herself. 

Walking closer to the tree, Jimin came into her sights while the steel knife brandished in his hand. 

The Goddess smiled immediately seeing the Ingar. “Are you feeling better, Jimin? I heard you were sick.” When the younger didn’t answer, confusion spread across her face softly trying to search his expression before her eyes moved down to the glimmering steel in his hand. 

“I’m doing this for my Master.” Jimin breathed out heavily, a sinister smile twitching on his lips before he raised the hilt of his knife and smacked it against her cheek causing her to drop on the ground. “H-He will thank me.” He grinned, watching Angel trying to slither away shakily. 

Ignoring her choking sobs when he turned her around and dragged the knife across her clothed skin, admiring the blue of her dress turn purple. “He will know this is good for him.” Jimin kept reminding himself breathlessly swinging against her pretty face that Taehyung talked about far too much, watching the perfect skin go red and purple. 

Angels body trembled violently as every breath burned, metallic taste on her tongue. The vicious beating of Tonitruas drum underneath her as something kept smashing at her arm, cracking sounds from inside her skin. Heat rushed to her head as her vision blurred and darkened. “Jimin…” She sobbed helplessly. She could only imperfect shapes…one in particular moving frantically as more pain panged on her chest before it all turned dark and empty. 

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