#tho maybe one more piercing and then update

[glitzybunny]

Thank you lovely moots :3

Love ya'll sm

#side note #kinda vent in the tags?? #now back to work I go! #pffffbejfjdjskf #kinda wanna do one of those meet the artists things cause I gotta update my sona hahaha #I got my haircut and ears pierced more #tho maybe one more piercing and then update #2024 has already been so big for me like genuinely sjdjgkksf #i moved out of my abusive mothers place #I did things I wasnt allowed to do before at my old place! #like going out late at night! #AND GETTING MY EARS PIERCED MORE THAN JUST MY FIRSTS ON MY LOBE #AND GETTING MY HAIR CUT DJQKGKKSKGM #im planning in dyeing it too im just lazy to gtfo pffff #tw vent #i think fjsjfjdwkg #I have many things to do! #IM LIKE 20 BTW IDK WHY MUM KEPT ME TRAPPED LIKE I WAS AN INFANT BUT FUCK IT WE BALL CJSJCKSKV #so glad to be out as weird as it feels now! #jfkskgkekvke

[etheries1015]

Did you know that hair-pulling helps blood flow? /idk

Did you know that I’m grinding my thighs for Lilia rough(beeping) us?

Kids stay away from me for at least 5 miles away

Did you know that I really want Lilia to go vampire mode and yank us by our hair while he’s ramming us from behind, our neck exposed from his motion and ~~~ ^0^ (won't detail much since I'm not sure if ur comfortable with Blood)

Lilia X reader - Living out a fantasy

18+ MINORS DNI.

General warnings: Gender neutral reader, hair pulling, biting, rough fucking...I haven't written many "full" smuts so...sorry if its rushed or not particularly good, I'm open to advice and learning new things 💜✨

TW: None? Maybe some mentions of blood tho. Tell me if I missed anything, I'll update this section accordingly.

Lilia yearned for this moment. The moment you fully submitted to him as he had fantasized over and over again, with his filthy thoughts of defiling you flashing in his mind from the very second you placed yourself in his life. From bumping into each other in the halls to seeing you in the cafeteria talking it up with another student, he could feel this burning desire from the deepest parts of him.

Lilia didn't particularly enjoy this part of himself. He felt in a way with his dirty thoughts, he was making you dirty, too. With every moment he zoned out during class to imagine himself taking you against one of the desks, he found himself forcing a smile in front of you and hiding the bulge throbbing in his pants with his coat, almost unable to look you in the eyes. He would later find himself in his bedroom, groaning your name before staring shamelessly down at his hands after his release.

Yet he couldn't help but wonder those times when he spoke to you, was that blush upon your cheeks and glances simply a fragment of his imagination? Perhaps you felt the same, he would notice the way your thighs rubbed together after your eyes locked with his for a certain period. He was either going senile, or you truly had the same viciously naughty thoughts about him.

The Fae soon had his answer.

There you were, his hand full of your hair pushing your head into the pillow as his hips roughly snapped against yours. Slapping filled the air of the room along with your feeble high-pitched cries of pleasure mixed with whines of pain, Lilias hand roughly handling your hair and showing no mercy. The mischievous Fae would often pull out to where only his tip barely remained inside your swollen hole, and In one fast movement, he snapped his hips to meet your ass, which was now bright red and stinging with every new thrust.

"can't," you panted, "can't ..cum anymore...hah.." The sticky residue of cum and sweat pulled apart with every time he would pull back and thrust back inside of you from the previous hour of the sexual act, you felt your body unable to keep yourself up go limp and fall to the mattress while he continued with reckless abandon.

"Not- yet," Lilia groaned, taking the fist full of hair and pulling your head back mercilessly much to your dismay yet also pleasure. You let out a yelp of surprise at the instantaneous action and sharply sucked in air as Lilia removed his hands from your hair in order to forcibly grab you by the hips and lift you back upwards toward his eager body.

"Tsk tsk...you're not done until I say you are, little bat..." The way your hair fell exposed your bare neck, Lilia took the initiative the lean forward taking slower and more impactful thrusts as his tongue outlined his intended target upon your soft and mark-free skin.

"You're doing amazing, precious," He purred into your ear, "You can take more for me, right?" Grinding his hips into yours, Lilia took the slight nod of your head permission to continue. His teeth grazed the crook of your neck, revealing his teeth. Using his sharpened Canines to pierce your skin, you hissed in discomfort, feeling some sort of liquid trickling down your neck before Lilia used his tongue to sensually clean up the blood that drew from the wound he left. The fae pressed a gentle kiss against it, almost as if to apologize. The gesture was left short-lived, Lilia smirking against the skin of your neck, he took another bite before ramming his hips against your own. This time, Lilia grabbed your hands and pulled them back as he abused your tired, sopping-wet hole, groaning as the fae pressed his hips intimately against yours climaxing. Your legs trembled as his cock twitched releasing ropes of creamy white cum inside of you for the nth' time. He pulled out, letting go of your arms and allowing your body to fully succumb to the comfort of the mattress. he watched as his seed trickled out of your puffy hole, a satisfied grin on his lips.

His shit eating grin remained even after you turned to face him with a scowl and eyes of daggers. You were weak, your body covered in bruises and love marks from hours of intimacy, yet it didnt stop you from bonking the top of Lilias head. He only laughed at your feeble attempt to attack him.

"I told you I couldn't cum anymore," you pouted, grabbing a blanket and wrapping your naked body. Lilia hugged you through your new little blanket home, and although you were not looking at him, you could envision the puppy eyes he had.

"But you did so well for me, little bat! Won't you look at me, please?" He pouted, poking at you. You peaked through the blanket with an angry stare, narrowing your eyes at Lilia.

"Are you gonna take care of me now? You made this mess." Lilia smiled brightly at this, excitedly planting a kiss on your now exposed forehead.

"Of course~ I'll go draw you a warm bath and prepare some ointment, do not move a muscle, my dear!" You watched as the fae made his way to the bathroom, hearing running water you smiled to yourself, re playing the events over and over in your head with a light blush and a giddy giggle.

You had to admit, despite the aching of your body and the sticky mess between your legs... You wouldn't mind doing it again, sooner than later.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #lilia vanrouge #twst x reader #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #twst x reader smut

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #23] Cherry Picking

warnings: ohhhhh we have arrived!! okay! a lil (not so) dry hump, bird manipulation!!, panty sniffing!! panties in mouth??, titty sucking, fingering, oral (f receiving), jungkooks nose <3, kissing !!! oh god the loveliest of kisses!!! unprotected sex, 'baby', cum on tits, jk cleans her up with his tongue! a gentleman! over stimulation, squirting, (just friendly tho!!)

soundtrack: diamonds - luke hemmings, finally // beautiful stranger - halsey, ruin the friendship - demi lovato

a/n: just two updates tonight as it cuts off at the perfect place!

wc: 15k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"They'll be wondering where you are," you say quietly, as the door behind you clicks shut. There's a slight rustle - the synthetic material of your padded jacket rubbing against itself - when Jeongguk comes to stand behind you, before he drapes it over your shoulders.

"Shouldn't start the New Year with a cold," he simply states stepping over the stone bench to sit down beside you. It's cold beneath his body, but he's got his coat on too. You've a hand warmer in each pocket, so pass one over to him. "Thanks."

"I mean it, Gguk," you double down, voice soft. "It's nearly time."

He just shrugs. Looks up to the sky.

You're in the tiny courtyard that's attached to the staffroom; Jeongguk's secret hiding spot for when he needs to escape from the chaos of Dionysus. There are some sheets of plywood in the corner that Jeongguk needs to take over to Yoongi's studio, but he's still putting off the expansions his boss wants doing. Doesn't want to lose his little sanctuary just yet.

It feels like he's losing more and more comforts day by day.

His final university deadlines are approaching, and he's gonna have to decide if he stays comfortable or does something far more terrifying a lot sooner than he's really ready for.

Change can be daunting, so he's choosing to keep things as they are as much as he can. Feels safer that way. The curse of Jeon Jeongguk is his ability to let his fears control his life. He's always been this way. Fears he always will be. The irony isn't lost on him.

"They'll be wondering where you are, too," he says. Thinks that Danbi must be running around like a headless chicken trying to find you - but also knows she was holding Tae's hand as she was glancing around before he left, so maybe she'll be a bit distracted. Thinks it's about time. Tae's been looking at her like a lovesick pup for weeks, now. Months, even.

"Jiyeong-" You begin, but are cut off by Jeongguk.

He doesn't want to talk about her. Doesn't wanna have to explain what happened, because it feels embarrassing and bothersome. Pity looks so pretty on your features, but he doesn't want to be the recipient of such a gentle look.

"-Isn't gonna be a part of next year," he says. Though his tone isn't stern, it is incredibly final .

You bring your gaze down from the skies, and rest your chin on your shoulder to look at Jeongguk. His eyes are still searching for stars - the light pollution proves to make it impossible - chin tilted upward, dewy nose to the sky. His skin is beginning to blush from the cold. His lips are thin; folded in on themselves, lip ring shining ever so daintily as it flips in the corner of his mouth.

You've missed watching his piercing do the thing. When you've as much alcohol in your system as you do, you find it makes your tummy flip, too. It's silly of your body to behave like that. Drunk or not, Jeongguk is still just Jeongguk.

From the club, you can hear the echoes of a chant. The countdown has begun. If you ask questions now, he'll just brush them off.

You're a little too tipsy to really comprehend what he means, either way.

"We should go back inside," you whisper, eyes still on him, your chin denting down into the thick padding of your coat. You always think you look like an emo Michelin baby whenever you wear it. If Jeongguk heard the comparison, he'd laugh. Would agree.

When he turns to look at you, he barely notices the coat. Just thinks you look cosy. Is pleased to find the stars right here on Earth, instead.

"Won't make it in time," he says.

"Could try?"

"Why bother?"

"'Cause you should be around people who care about you when it hits twelve," you say, a little pout on your lips. He's being difficult.

And then he just shrugs. Knocks into your shoulder. Smiles. "Are we not already?"

There's silence for a moment. Just a second.

The sky above you both begins to sparkle; greens and blues erupting where darkness once was. They scatter into the night; pinks and yellows spiralling just like your mind so often does whenever Jeongguk speaks in riddles.

You're aware that the fireworks are deafening, but you're oblivious to the sound. All you can hear is the beating of your own heart. The explosions shimmer in Jeongguk's eyes, but it's still only stars you can see in them.

"Happy New Year," Jeongguk says quietly. Smiles tenderly. Fills you with a warmth that the frigid winter night had previously stolen. He doesn't look at your lips. Makes no indication that he's thinking about a New Year's kiss.

There are a dozen girls in that room who'd have jumped at the chance to lock lips with him, even if just for a moment as the bells rang out, and yet he's chosen to be with you.

He could have been with Hayun.

And yet he's chosen to be with you.

"Happy New Year," you smile right back. The exchange is soft, like mid-winter snow; warm like a breeze on a summer's day. Secure like a three-pin-padlock; secret, like the code written in the back of an old notebook.

"Hey, B?" He says quietly, eyes still on yours. The sky flashes a myriad of colours. They rain down on him; paint him better than Picasso ever could.

"Mhmm?"

He grins. You think his lip ring looks so pretty. Teeth, too. Pearly and perfectly proportioned for him.

"Stop looking at my lips," he teases. "Gonna make me think you wanna kiss me."

A gasp escapes your lips. You look away. Cover your mouth. Can't believe how fucking obvious you must have been.

"I was just..." you begin to excuse yourself, but then laugh. Choose honesty. "I was actually just thinking about the fact you missed out on a New Years Kiss."

Jeongguk shrugs in that boyish way he so often does, as if he has no care for the arbitrary realities of life. C'est la vie . He looks up to the skies, and lets his smile linger as the illuminations paint the midnight skies.

"Got all year for kisses, B. Only one chance to see the New Year in with my best friend."

And maybe it's because you've been rattled by Hayun, or maybe it's because he's one of the only good things to have come out of the past year, but hearing him claim you as his best friend makes you feel like a weight has been lifted.

"Best friend?" You question, just to make sure.

He nods. "Best friend."

It's laughable, really, how those two words take aim at the arrows shot by Hayun, and knocks them off course before they can really implode on your heart. Just a surface scratch, now. That's all.

"What about Jimin?"

Jeongguk tilts his head to the side. Considers it. "Family."

You're pleased to hear the conclusion of his consideration. You've a shared history with Jimin that could make things awkward between the three of you, and yet you all chalk it up to dumb drunk choices. Aren't the first you've ever made. Won't be the last.

"Be weird if I said you were like family, too," Jeongguk adds - then feels the need to clarify, even though he totally doesn't. "Fucked you. Would make for weird family gatherings."

You laugh. Nod. "Yeah. Probably best you don't ever tell girls I'm like a sister or anything like that," you muse.

He laughs, too, but doesn't say anything. Thinks of Hayun, and how he knows you had definitely had a spat with her before you left. Wants to know what was said. Knows it will be about him. Doesn't want to sour your mood. Is quite conflicted.

Luckily for him, your mind works in a similar way, and your filter is next to non-existent when you've had as many drinks as you have.

"I thought Hayun was your best friend."

Jeongguk looks over to you, his eyes a little hard, brows pinching above his nose. You don't look at him. The fireworks are dwindling, now.

"Friendships change," he admits candidly.

Won't tell you how the second he heard someone asking for star fuckers, he assumed it was you .

Won't tell you how he recited lines - already said to you - to her, because he wasn't comfortable enough in her presence to let his brain think of anything original. Went for something safe. Went for something nurtured with you.

Won't tell you how much the way you've subtly distracted him - with glitter and nonsensical conversations - throughout the night has helped him get his head straight.

Won't tell you how watching you leave felt like a sucker punch to the chest.

Won't tell you that he didn't even consider going over to his friends, because in that moment he was furious with the fact Hayun had made you want to leave so close to midnight. He likes to think it wasn't intentional, but celebrating with her while you would have been alone? Didn't seem like something worth celebrating at all.

If he hadn't been distracted (as always) by your disco ball eyes, and the way light shines from your very being, he never would have known you were speaking with her. Never would have seen her do that thing with her eyes - the cold, vacant, roll of them he used to know so well - that he hated so much. Never would have realised you were leaving.

You'd have spent New Year's by yourself, away from the people who love you, cold and quiet.

And it would have been her fault.

Mentally, he excuses her bad behaviour; tells himself it's probably a mix of alcohol and someone new taking her place that made her hostile.

But when he looks at you, and acknowledges the sadness that imposes on your features, the guilt creeps in. He blames himself . If he'd have introduced you two, maybe it would have gone differently. If Jiyeong hadn't been so rude to her, maybe Hayun wouldn't have been so malevolent with you.

Absolving Hayun of blame is something Jeongguk's been doing for years. Patterns of behaviour are easy to acknowledge; difficult to end.

He's trying. He's here. That counts for something.

You think Jeongguk is right. Friendships do change. You're scared that Hayun's presence will change yours.

"When do you clock off?" You ask, instead of venturing any further down the road of a topic you don't think will benefit either of you.

Jeongguk raises his wrist - the one without his watch on it - and hums. Pretends to read it. Makes you giggle.

"About five minutes ago."

The skies have settled once more. The only stars he can see are ones in his peripherals; the specks of glitter on his skin, and the girl beside him.

The chill of a winter freeze is sobering you up. You know that you probably can't walk straight, but you can think straight, and that's absolutely outrageous, as far as you're concerned. The night is still young and - as Jimin said - so are you. The heaviness in your heart is ageing you. You don't care for it.

"Starfuckers?" you propose - and the way Jeongguk smiles has you wishing you'd asked earlier.

"Thought you'd never ask," he grins, but catches himself.

Decides he needs to give you a little context on Jiyeong before continuing the night, 'cause he doesn't wanna talk about it when he's a few shots too deep to be sensible about things.

"Jiyeong gets really... argumentative when she drinks."

His slow speech makes it evident how careful he's trying to be. You know what it really means. Knows she must have said something awful for him to be mentioning it now.

"Was it bad?" you ask, a little clueless, and hating it.

Jeongguk nods. Bites the bullet. Doesn't look at you as he says, "She threw a drink on me."

"She what?!"

Jeongguk smirks, not because he finds it funny, but because he finds it awkward. Rolls his eyes, and shakes his head. "Was at the bar. Fucking mortifying ."

You study his face, looking for signs you might have missed.

"Where did she get you?" You ask, but realise as soon as your question finishes. You gasp again. Can't believe you hadn't thought to ask earlier. "The outfit change?!"

He confirms your suspicions. "Anyways, I'm sort of... done with her."

His hesitation is genuine, not because he's unsure of his choice, just because he's still worried about letting you down.

To his surprise, you're the one apologising.

The weight in your chest when he admits that he doesn't want to be with her is catastrophic. You thought you had picked well for him. You really thought maybe you'd helped him. You feel like the failure.

"Gguk, if I'd have known she was like that, I never would have set things up. I'm so so sorry. You didn't deserve that whatsoever."

"Not your fault," he says, offering you a sincere smile. "Just the way the cookie crumbles sometimes."

He's downplaying it, and you both know it. He doesn't want to talk about it though, so you won't push. Not now. Another time, yes.

Thing is, neither of you are at fault. C'est la vie.

"You know how many stars there are?" You ask, in a bid to change the subject to something a little easier to digest.

Jeongguk shakes his head. "Not a clue, B."

"Oh," you say quietly. "Thought you might. Always mumbling stuff about the stars, you are."

He smiles to himself. Thinks it's hardly a surprise.

Deflects, and asks, "You know much about manure?"

"What?" You chirp, then laugh. What a bizarre question. "No?"

"Oh," he hums, mimicking you. "Thought you might. Always chatting shit."

You tell him to fuck off, so he gets to his feet - but holds his hand out for you.

"C'mon," he knocks his head to the side. "Let's go get fucked up."

It's quarter past twelve by the time you make it back to your friends, Jeongguk double fisting drinks 'cause he's so far behind everyone else and needs to get fucked up.

It doesn't take much - four double dark rum and cokes, three purple starfuckers - for him to be doing the robot in a strange sort of avant-garde dance battle with Hobi and Jimin. You're not really sure what you're looking at as Jeongguk moves his body in a way you never need to see him move his body - but you find it hilarious. He's both smooth and awkward in his movements. None of it quite makes sense.

You smile through it all. Endlessly. Affectionately. Adoringly.

And then you're laughing, too.

Might just be the vodka. Might be the nerves of Hayun's eyes being on you. Most likely, it's because Jeongguk looks ridiculous. So sexy in one moment, and so goofy in the next.

You never know what's coming next. He almost stumbles over to you as you nurse on a drink by the sofas. Regains his balance. Tries to play it cool. Is suave as he says, "you good down there, B?" - but then he sinks down into the sofa beside you, a silly grin on his rum-drunk lips. You find that you'd welcome all his surprises, good or bad.

He hiccups. Scolds himself. Asks you how you are. Hiccups again. Listens as you tell him to hold his breath. Hiccups as he's doing it. Gives up. Hiccups freely.

He's still got a drink in his hand, so you take it from him and have a sip or two. He doesn't protest. Rabbits on about something neither of you will remember in the morning. The club lights hit him in all the right places, making his glittered cheekbones appear even more majestic than they already were.

"More glitter," you muse. "You need more glitter."

"Y'know," he slurs, looking all very poised and serious, a finger pointing as he speaks. "I was thinking the exact same thing."

He chats absolute shit while you dapple his cheeks with more pretty sparkles. They match his eyes, now.

You've managed to avoid Hayun since returning, and you're secretly pleased that Jeongguk has done the same.

Aside from a few awkward glances when you both arrived back to greet your friends, he's deliberately steered clear. Wants an orderly mind before they speak again.

He's still disgruntled by the fact you found her so intolerable you were willing to spend New Year alone just to not be near her. Trusts you. Trusts your judgement (even if you did set him up with Jiyeong). Trusts you always see the good in people, but knows you struggled to see the good in her.

Thinks maybe life would have been easier if he met you first.

Hayun over by the bar with Nabi and Tae. They seem to be her closest friends amongst the circle. Yoongi didn't say a single word to her all night, but Seoyeon was pretty friendly with her.

They left just after midnight, and were gone by the time you and Jeongguk returned from the courtyard. Namjoon's working the early shift tomorrow - "the news isn't gonna write itself" - so he'd dipped with them, too.

Like Yoongi, Jimin gives Hayun the cold shoulder. It's expected, given how close he is to Jeongguk.

You're unaware of the fact that she and Jimin go way back. Knew each other as kids. If anyone should have still been pally with her, it would be him - but he's the only one who knows how much Jeongguk suffered because of her. He knows the situation almost as well as he knows the plotline for The Notebook, and considering that it's his go-to hangover movie (while also considering how often he's hungover), it's safe to say he's got a decent understanding of it.

Jimin will never be on Hayun's side. He told her years ago that this would be the consequence of her dicking Jeongguk around, and is a man of his word when it comes to his friends. Used to really eat him up, how easily she let go of their friendship. Counts it as a blessing, now.

As he stands by the bar and notices what's going on with you, Jeongguk and a tube of liquid glitter, he smiles. Doesn't have a clue what happened with Jiyeong. Doesn't care. Really couldn't give a shit for any other girl in Jeongguk's life. Is just glad he has you.

You've been good for him.

"What's going on with them?" Hayun asks as she joins him at the bar. Is a little annoyed Jeongguk has been so... avoidant. It's a change to the norm. Jeongguk doesn't do change. Something feels... off.

Jimin's smile fades. She still tries to be his friend. It annoys him. "Nothing."

She laughs. It's insincere.

"I've got a pair of eyes, Jimin. He's sat there like a lovesick puppy while some girl covers him in fucking glitter," she sneers.

"So? Your point?"

"It's fucking weird."

Jimin rolls his eyes. Exhales a deep sigh. "You've not been here, Hayun. You can't come back and decide that everything is awful just because it isn't the way you left it. Life's moved on. You should try it, sometime."

"That's not it," she says.

"So what is it?" Jimin questions. He doesn't really want to be having this conversation, but everyone's fucked. He thinks he'd rather know if she's up to no good. Might not remember it in the morning, but at least he'll know now.

"He's changed."

"He's happy," Jimin says bluntly. "That's what's changed."

"She's not his girlfriend," Hayun states.

Jimin knows about Jeongguk's desire to call things off with Jiyeong. Doesn't know about the fact he kind of already has. Also doesn't think it's his place to air Jeongguk's dirty laundry, so he says the safest thing he can.

"Nor is Jiyeong, if that's what you're getting at. Not sure if you remember, but Gguk has a hard time saying no to girls who treat him like shit," he says with a little venom. "His relationships are frankly none of your business. You revoked rights to that sort of information years ago."

"I'm just concerned," she says - and she sounds like she actually means it. Jimin doesn't buy it for a second, but lets her talk. "I used to know him better than anyone. It's like looking at a stranger, now."

"And who's fault is that?" Jimin snaps, but either Hayun is too drunk to really notice or too narcissistic to actually care.

Instead of actually responding, Hayun muses aloud. "All of it...the glitter, the puppy dog eyes... her attitude problem... It all just screams quarter-life crisis."

She's unaware that your glitter session ended a few minutes ago. Is unaware that you've dashed to the staff room to put your phone on charge. Is unaware that you'd sent Jeongguk on the hunt for more drinks.

Doesn't realise until Yeonjun flashes a grin, and says, "fuckin' hell. Shoulda put a bet on you morphing into Disco Ball."

Jeongguk smirks, resting his palms on the bar. He is, admittedly, DB2.0 at this point. There's glitter in his hair . "Starfuckers?"

"Trust me to make them?" Yeonjun checks - not that Jeongguk is stepping a foot behind the bar, not when he's as trashed as he is. The palms resting on the bar aren't just because he knows he looks good - it's because he needs to steady himself.

He nods. Taps Jimin on shoulder. "Starfucker?"

"Stupid question."

"I think the word you were looking for is 'yes'," Jeongguk grins, turning his attention back to Yeonjun. "Three, please, mate."

Hayun doesn't hide the smile on her face. Some things, apparently, don't change. She likes Jeongguk when you aren't around.

"Hey, buddy," she smiles in that way she always did when she'd been up to no good and wanted him on her side again.

Jeongguk is silent. Isn't smiling. Doesn't look at her. Just simply says: "Careful, Hayun."

"Hmm?" she questions, wondering what on earth she needs to watch out for. The bar's nearly empty, now.

"Watch your mouth when you're chatting shit," he says dryly, his voice just as flat as his eyes are vacant. "You never know who's listening."

Yeonjun can't help but smirk. Has been watching Jeongguk's entire life blow up right in front of his very eyes all night, and it just never ceases to surprise him. Has no idea who this bitch is in front of him, but the way Jeongguk looks like he wants to chew her up and spit her out? Oh, he is living for it.

He pours the shots. Decides the bar needs a good wipe-down. Stays close just to listen in.

Is surprised when he hears Jeongguk mention you by name. Had almost forgotten you actually have one. Is so used to calling you Disco Ball.

Admittedly, he thinks there's a tenderness to the way Jeongguk says your name. Thinks it's really fuckin' sweet.

He says your name, knocks back his shot, then says, "I dunno what you said to her earlier, but you were outta line. She's our friend." He passes the next shot over to Jimin. Finally looks down at Hayun. Is surprised when it doesn't hurt like he half thinks it should. He's never spoken to her like this before. "So play nicely, and keep her name out your mouth unless you're telling her how pretty her glitter looks."

Hayun thinks Jeongguk's gone absolutely clinically insane.

Yeonjun thinks this is brilliant .

From the corner of his eye, Jeongguk notices the staff room door open and close, so he picks up the spare shot that Hayun mistakenly thought was hers. As you approach, glittery and gorgeous like always, he holds it out for you to take.

"Oh, you star. Thank you," you beam, accepting it without a second thought. You ignore Hayun.

"Charging?" Jeongguk asks, just to make sure the dodgy wire in the staff room is working. You nod, and assure him it's fine. "Dancefloor?"

Again, you nod. "Please."

Yeonjun thinks he's gonna watch the security cameras back later just to see all of that unfold again. He's never seen a face look so much like a slapped arse, but Hayun? Offt . She's going through it.

"Y'know, maybe he has changed," Jimin smirks. "Ain't that a blessing."

Hayun is silent. Jeongguk has never spoken to her like that. Ever. Not even when they were fighting. The life she's returned to no longer has space for her, or so it feels like.

You're too drunk to care. Decide that you're better off pretending like she doesn't exist. You derive no joy from her existence, and think that this year you should only do things that make you happy.

When Jeongguk forces you to dance with him? You're happy.

When he yawns, and starts talking about kebabs? You're happy.

When he holds your hand and drunkenly traipses down the clubbing district to the kebab place he swears down laces their fries with crack? You're happy.

Happy when Jeongguk insists you walk instead of catching a cab, happy when he offers you a piggyback, happy when he doesn't put you down, not even in the elevator of his apartment complex.

Doesn't put you down until you're both sat on the floor between his kitchen area and sitting room. The lights are off, but early morning is breaking; the city intruding on your privacy.

Your hair is so long now, he thinks. How long has he known you? He can't remember. But it was short when you first met. Just above your shoulders. Now, it finishes midway down your chest. You're not the same person as you were back then, and nor is he.

It's a realisation; he's still learning about you. If somebody had asked him even a day ago how quickly your hair grows, he wouldn't have had an answer. Had never noticed. Knows your roots need doing, but he likes them so never comments on them.

Jeongguk knows you so well, and yet not at all.

He knows your favourite drink in a dive bar, but doesn't know what you'd get at bottomless brunch with the girls. Knows that you demolish Psy's It's Art in a noraebang, but has no idea what your favourite song is. Knows so much and yet knows nothing at all.

Knows your fears; doesn't know your hopes.

The realisation upsets him.

And so he asks. Lets you drunkenly natter on about your childhood dreams; plays the band you said soundtracked your childhood from his phone. It's set on the floor a little bit away from you. He chooses not to play it through a proper speaker. There's an intimacy to this. Thinks it's important you keep this shit analogue.

There's a dozen birds above Jeongguk's bed that outline the a-z of your intimacy textbook, but none of them include this.

None of them mentions talking about your childhood pet, and watching Jeongguk's pretty little smile appear on his scrunched-up face as he enthuses over puppy pictures.

Not a single bird includes candid admittance of times you threatened to run away from your family home as a teenager; nor do they include the way the Jeongguk asks about your escape plans, and tells you how you definitely could have done it.

There are no birds that tell you to bare your soul, and yet, you do.

Jeongguk is so kind with it. Accepts it graciously, and touches it with tender hands; places it down beside his own, and finds you fit perfectly in the empty space.

He finds himself nervous. Not in the lip-biting, ring-flipping, unsure eyes kind of way you're used to seeing him in, well, any uncomfortable situation; but in a different way entirely.

He worries that the night will end. Is concerned that you'll leave, and that things will be cemented in this awkwardly 'okay' stalemate.

He knows more about you than he did a few hours ago; has learned itsy bitsy tales of childhood and saw your face cringe as he scoured your mum's facebook page for pictures of your teenage haircut that you swore was cool at the time (not that his mother's kitchen scissor bowl cut was much better).

You've an idea of the layout of his family home, thanks to an overly explained prank that he says he pulled on his brother, which you also learn resulted in no eyebrows for either of them (another thing to thank his mother for ( "a punishment to match the crime" is how Jeongguk phrased it as he mindlessly stroked over his since-recovered brows)).

These aren't little things to know about one another. They're candid revelations packaged in awkward smiles and tied with liquor-laced ribbons.

Little presents, squirrelled away in each of your minds; reminders that the most intimate we can be with another person is when we're fully clothed.

Foolish of you not to consider that. C'est la vie.

That's what Jeongguk worries about. He worries that you'll leave, and the physical intimacy won't have matched the emotional intimacy and it will fuck with your head. Will have you ignoring him, or avoiding him.

You don't say anything, but as you watch him get to grips with a karaoke mic by the sofa, a song about makgeolli playing in the background, his giggles echoing into the speaker system, you don't ever want to avoid him again. Hated the time spent keeping a distance. Life is so much better when he's around.

He encourages you up, and forces you to dance with him like a pair of lunatics to an old Psy song. It's one of the ones Psy would always sing at his university campus shows, and when you mention this, Jeongguk cannot fathom the fact you've seen him live . Forces you to find it on youtube. Tries to find you in the crowd - but it's like a game of where's wally.

Eventually, he gives up. Says he's found you. Points to the mirror in the corner of the room - and when you look over and see the pair of you as you are, you decide that maybe bad decisions would be a good idea.

Glitter speckled, you're both messes. Still in your club clothes, there's something funny about the way your hair is in a lopsided bun on top of your head, his hair kind of all over the place. You'd be forgiven for thinking the pair of you had been at it - when in reality, all you'd been doing was singing your hearts out in a make-shift home noraebang.

You're busy laughing, toying with his little tufts of hair that stick out on end when his front door beeps, Jimin finally entering the code to return home. Dawn is breaking, and you're surprised that he's alone. He's busy chewing on a sotteok sotteok stick - mini sausages and rice cakes threaded onto a wooden skewer - to pay you much attention. The spicy sauce drips into the container he's holding, which you both recognise to be from the convenience store down the road.

"Here he is," Jeongguk teases, as Jimin casts his housemate a small grin.

He's pissed - still drunk as a skunk - and slurs his words as he goes to speak. "There's a disco ball in our living room."

"It's not a party worth having if you don't have a disco ball," you assure him, to which he lets you know that it's not a party if there are only two people.

"When there's two," he mumbles through a mouthful of tteok, waving the half-empty stick in the air. "That's not a party."

"So what is it?" Jeongguk asks.

The way Jimin smiles before he starts talking makes Jeongguk regret ever asking.

"A couple."

Jeongguk shoos him away. Tells him he needs a good night's sleep before he inevitably watches The Notebook tomorrow morning, like he always does whenever he wakes up alone with a hangover. A depressing way to start the year, you think.

"DB, you like Gosling?" Jimin says, in his pants and t-shirt now, sitting on the floor. He's holding a glass of water like it's a sippy cup. You cannot believe you've had sex with him. Twice. "Wanna watch?"

"Prefer Reynolds," you say of the famous Ryan's.

Jeongguk squeezes your knee. Smiles. Remembers the Deadpool marathons with you and Danbi. Likes how much you've both integrated into one another's lives.

This is just reality now.

And for the first time in a long time, Jeongguk realises just how lucky he really is. His life may not be grand, and it may not be written about in history books; but it's a fulfilled life. He's happy.

Jimin falls asleep on the living room floor. Is dragged into his room by Jeongguk. Won't remember any of it in the morning.

When Jeongguk finally retires to his room, you're poking around at the birds on his desk.

"I missed some?"

He nods. Sits on the edge of his bed, legs spread, leaning back to rest on his elbows. He's tired. Doesn't wanna sleep. Has missed you too much. "Fell a couple of weeks ago."

You pout. "I've missed the kids."

Jeongguk is soft as he says, "they missed you, too."

Looking at you now as you scan his room, party dress sparkling as the early morning sun intrudes on his room, he struggles to remember what life was like before he knew you.

And then he wonders if he'll ever forget what it felt like to fuck you.

He doesn't mean to think about you improperly - he's just in that god-awful state of post-drinking pleasure-seeking.

He's not even gonna deny it. He wants you.

There's a dilemma that comes with Jeongguk's desire: morals.

He's not sure how drunk Jiyeong was. Isn't sure how intentional she was with her threats. Doesn't know if she'll remember what she did, or if she'll even realise Jeongguk called it quits when she wakes up the next morning.

If he were to check his phone, he'd see that one of the personal trainers from the gym had tagged him in an insta story with the caption 'come get your girl, bro', and said girl necking on with some guy Jeongguk wouldn't be able to pick out from a crowd.

He doesn't check his phone, though. Regardless of everything, he was never her boyfriend. The way she treated him is exactly why he never asked. She burnt her bridges time and time again. Jeongguk doesn't care to rebuild them again, not when she never lends a hand.

It's not that he wants to be cruel. It's not that he never cared. Nothing like that at all.

But he is drunk, and he is single, and fuck it's so nice to be around someone that makes him feel as lovely as you do.

When he holds out his hands, you gravitate towards him. Stand between his legs. Look down at his pretty face, hands delicate beneath his jaw.

Jeon Jeongguk is gonna ruin your life, you think.

As his hands stoke up your bare thighs, and encourages you onto his lap without a single word?

Life, ruined. You're certain.

The way you do whatever he asks of you has you considering that maybe your life isn't even yours anymore. His. All his.

You know you shouldn't entertain this. The Jiyeong shit is too fresh. Hayun, too - but that only encourages you. You have what she wants. You'd like to keep it that way.

His grip on your waist is tight as he pulls you up his lap, the thick ridge of his bulge beneath you perfectly positioned to rut up against you.

There's hesitation to your movements; delicacy.

His are the opposite. Decisive. He knows what he wants - and as he uses his grip to push you further down onto his crotch, your soft whimpers let him know that you want it, too.

"Gguk," you whisper, heart beating so fast you're scared it might short circuit. He nudges his nose against yours. Nods. Could kiss you, if he wasn't behaving himself.

It's laughable, really, how he's humping himself up against you, and considers it 'good' because he isn't kissing you.

Your voice is barely audible when you say, "I hate my rules."

Jeongguk's jaw tenses. His eyes close, nostrils a little flared as he tries to control his breathing. Nudges his nose a little deeper against yours.

"Me too, B."

He despises them. Loathes them. Will never break them. No matter how hard is cock is and how difficult it is to think straight when he's suffocated by your hair. They're yours to break. Yours alone.

So while the admission makes him needy - gets him squeezing at your soft flesh, body grinding a little faster - he keeps his lips away. Kind of. There's a very small gap for you to close.

You could do it.

Could sink your lips down onto his, and experience what it's like to feel his moans vibrate into your mouth. Could let his tongue lick against yours. Could hold his jaw, lips hard and deliberate as they press against each other.

Could do a million little things. Your nipples are hard just from the thought of it all, and your thin lace bra hides nothing. Nor does your dress.

Jeongguk can feel them against his chest. Can't stop himself from tightly squeezing at them, his thumbs settling over your hardened bud. He rubs against them, knowing just how sensitive they are, even through your clothes, and is pleased when your breathing starts to get heavier.

A moan gets trapped in your throat, nails scratching against the nape of his neck. You're matching his movement, hips grinding against him.

You wonder how long it's been since he used someone else to relieve him. Find yourself worried it hasn't been long enough. Don't want him thinking about her while he's with you. It's not like you can control his mind, but then again, you're unaware of the catastrophic hold you have on him.

He takes a second to scan your eyes, and as much as you want to hold his gaze, you're distracted by his glitter. His cheeks, the rogue specks on his nose, his jaw... along the indent of his cupid's bow.

Jeongguk has enough experience with glitter-induced mindlessness, so knows that's what's happening - but he wants to check that you still want this. Still want him . It's been a while, and he knows the fact he'd been with someone else could hinder your desire for him.

Funny. He's not thinking about the fact you hooked up with Jimin at all. Couldn't give a shit about that.

All he can think about you, and your wants, your needs. Brushes a strand of hair away from your face, as he says, "if this is too weird, we can stop."

But you just shake your head, a soft smile on your pouty lips. He licks across his own.

"I've missed you," you admit all rather foolishly. Laugh, then cover your face with your hands. Jeongguk likes the rings you're wearing. Always the same three. Thin and dainty, they're as much a part of you as your glitter is.

His fingers wrap around your wrists, as he pulls them down. There's a little resistance from you, but eventually, you concede. Look at him a little helplessly, but are pleased to see him smiling.

"Missed you, too."

When you chirp a small hum in reply, Jeongguk laughs. Holds your waist again, stroking your sides ever so tenderly. Reassures you. "Of course I have. You know how much I like having you like this."

You narrow your eyes now, but it's playful. Feign a little offence, just to keep him smiling. "Have me like what exactly, Jeon?"

He rolls his eyes, but just pushes the hair that's covering your neck away from you. Leans a little closer, and presses a kiss into your skin. The contact of his lips, a little wet and torturously firm, has you sighing, hips pulling up. He encourages this. Grips onto your waist a little tighter. Pushes you down onto his crotch. Lets himself grind up against you once, twice, then husks against your neck, "Like this, B. Like you wanna get that pretty pussy of yours all messy for me."

He pulls back. Holds you tightly in place over his cock, of which he knows is embarrassingly hard. Sometimes he thinks all you have to do is glance in his direction to get him like this.

The way you're looking at him - eyes all wide, lips parted ever so slightly - gets his hips pulsing again ever so gently. Your body moves with his, the sensation of his hardness beneath you making you feel a way that could only be compared to Nirvana.

You're the one who pulls him closer, now, a hand cradling his jaw, the other sinking into his hair. It's a control thing. Want him close, but can also pull him away. It excites him. Always does whenever you take the reins back from him.

As your grip tightens in his hair, his breathing shallows. Nose nudging against his, you know you're a little too close. Know you're being mean. Know how much he must be dying to close the gap, 'cause you are too.

"I do," you whisper back. "It's already messy."

"Hmm?" he moans an incoherent reply. Has his lips firmly pressed shut, cause he doesn't trust himself. Has closed his eyes, too. Can't risk it.

"Mhmm," you murmur back. "So messy, Koo."

The way you soften the sound of his name has him desperate to fuck himself into you. You're so soft, and tender, and everything he's been missing.

"For me?" He asks, because formulating words is the only way he can stay focused - but even that's failing him, now.

"All for you."

His cock throbs beneath you. He knows he must be messy, too, precum pooling from the tiny slit at the very tip of his cock. Hates that he's trapped in his clothes, but loves the idea of slowly getting you out of yours.

"All mine," he smiles to himself, lost in the way he feels. You nod. Giggle. Let your hair drape around his face as your forehead leans on his. He laughs, too.

You're both highly aware of the fact that this is wrong .

You shouldn't be acting like this. Shouldn't be feeling this.

But you are.

And you'll continue to do so until the night draws to its inevitable end.

"What should I do about it, then, huh?" Jeongguk asks, tilting his pretty face up a little bit. The glitter on his cheeks catches in the light of his bedside table. The room around you feels too big. You don't acknowledge it. Only him.

You're so quiet when you reply. Know that you're saying things you shouldn't be; tempting him like you're some kind of divine serpentine being. Jeongguk's got one trailing up his arm in thick black ink. He likes snakes. Likes you, more. Likes how delicate your voice is when you say, "clean it up."

One of his hands grips your ass. Squeezes. Hard. Makes you mewl.

"And how should I do that?" He asks softly, knowing that if he doesn't get some kind of release soon, the friction of your still-clothed pussy over the bulge in his trousers will end him. Write him off entirely. Might even make him die.

You could be demure in your answer. You could play coy. Stop this from escalating

Or you could continue grinding against him, breath laboured, heartbeat unstable. You could run your thumb along his bottom lip. Nudge your nose against his in that tender you always do.

And then you could simply say, "Eat me out."

"Yeah?" He would say. Would want you to repeat it.

"Yeah," you'd reply. "Eat me out. Please."

So that's exactly what you do.

Jeongguk's mouth waters at the mere suggestion of getting his tongue between your folds. Has thought about it so many times. Never thought he'd see the day that you ask for it.

The tiny 'please' you whisper? The way you beg for it? His cock aches. Needs relief from you.

You're finicky to a fault though. Smirk as you say, "Real shame the bird hasn't fallen, isn't it?"

There are a few birds on his desk, but none of them are that specific bird.

Of all the ones you wrote together, there's only been one that you've ever known the identity of as it watches over you.

There's a small mark on its wing. You'd been holding the pen between your teeth as you'd folded it, but been distracted by Jeongguk mumbling to himself. Had narrowly avoided leaving a blotch of ink on crisp white sheets.

Instead, you'd cursed a bird - and so for the past six months, you'd look up at birds and wonder when it would fall. It was the only one you felt apprehensive of, but that simply was down to fact you knew what it was.

"Maybe we can do an I.O.U. for the birds?" He offers. Is keen.

You know you shouldn't cherry-pick the birds. It goes against their free will. Playing God will only ever end in tears - but you're still tipsy, and all you can think about is how much you need this.

It's been so long since anyone has eaten you out that now the idea is floating, you won't be able to rest until it's happened.

His hands stroke up the back of your legs as you stand up on his bed. His head is level with the tops of your thighs, so he lets his lips brush against them. Presses wet kisses up them. Is slow. You take a little extra pulling the right bird down. Lean in such a way that he's dangerously close to your panties. He can smell your arousal. Wants to taste it.

You settle back into his lap, bodies close as you hand him the bird. He looks at you. Wonders if there's magic behind those starry eyes of yours. Thinks there must be.

When he opens it up, and is greeted with the exact same act you've asked him to perform, he knows there must be magic in you.

The truth of it all is that you'd just made a bad decision when you made it. Shouldn't have dropped the pen. But you did; and now you're here.

"Make me feel good," you implore as you toy with his hair.

He wants his lips on your body; wants to feel the pressure of his lips brushing against yours.

Just isn't brave enough to take things that far, yet.

He tucks a little bit of your own hair behind your ear. Studies your face.

"Look at me when you ask."

You're slow to do as he asks. Spend a little time toying with his necklaces, instead. You know his eyes are on yours. He could count your lashes if he wanted - but he doesn't. Mainly because he can't think straight, let alone count above the number ten.

"B," he encourages, index finger curling beneath your chin. He tilts your head upwards, your eyes trailing up his features until they settle on his eyes.

"Want you to make me feel good."

He nods. Is eager as he does so. It's so hard to not kiss you.

"I will. Gonna make you feel so good, Byeol. You want that? Want me to make your pussy feel good?"

You nod your head. Widen your eyes as you beg. "Please."

Jeongguk respositions you. Gets you sitting in his spot. Stands as he grabs his shirt by the nape of his neck and pulls it over his head. Chucks it at you. Makes you both laugh - but fuck. He's gorgeous .

He grips the bulge in the front of his trousers. Groans .

"See how hard you make me?" He asks. Waits for you to nod. Unbuttons his slacks and lowers the zip, so the top of his dark boxer briefs poke through. He palms at himself. Presses his lips together as a muffled grunt stifles in his throat.

The subtle movement of his muscles beneath his warm skin has you entranced. He's human, yes, but built like a God. Worshipping him feels like the only appropriate course of action - and yet as he guides you over and positions you how he likes it - face down, ass up - he's the one who's gonna be worshipping you.

Eyes closed, you smile into the scent of his sheets. Hadn't realised how much you missed how soft they always are; cotton fresh and a worthy home for the night. Of all the boys you've ever dated, not of them have cared in the same way that Jeongguk does about his laundry.

He's like that in all aspects of his life, though. Details. His senses. They align and overlap, and Jeongguk has to have things in a specific way, otherwise he isn't happy.

You confuse him, in that way. You're haphazard to a fault, and Jeongguk knows that glitter never really fit into his idea of what it takes to build a home, but he misses it being on his sheets.

He pushes your dress up, over your ass. Doesn't look at your satin-covered pussy 'cause he's trying to hold off. Grapples the flesh of your ass, then delivers a short, sharp spank. Likes the way you gasp, then sigh.

Doesn't like that he can't see the smile he knows is on your lips though.

It's all rather confusing. This is how he likes to do things.

And yet he finds himself getting you back into your original position. Walks over to his door. Checks it's locked.

Jeongguk turns around to look at you, eyes dark, his intentions perfectly clear.

He prowls a little closer. Taps on your knees and encourages you to open your legs. Not once does his gaze drop from your eyes. Not when your legs spread, not when he lowers himself, not when he can fucking smell your arousal. He wants to. Wants to look at your pretty little pussy so badly - but he'd locked in on your eyes.

His hands slide up your thighs, pushing your dress to your hips. Your underwear is black, and your wetness has seeped through - but he doesn't acknowledge it. Not yet.

He lowers his lips, but keeps his eyes on yours still, as he presses a wet kiss to your thigh. Up he odesseys; one, two, three kisses. A trail of evidence is left, little dewy marks mapping out his journey. He leans over. Repeats it on your other thigh.

One of his hands grips your waist, while the other strokes your thigh that's without his lips. He's taking his time. Keeping his eyes on you. Can see how your chest moves; knows that you're as desperate for this as he is. He licks his lips, and smirks.

"So patient," he husks, oh-so-affectionately. Squeezes the soft flesh of your thigh. Loves how you feel. So warm, and soft, and made for him. "Such a good girl for me, aren't you?"

You nod, a tiny whine catching on your lips.

"What was that?" He asks, before his eyes finally glance down towards your covered cunt. It's only supposed to be for a second, but he didn't anticipate quite how wet you'd already be; how it would be shining through the fabric of your panties. They're silky today, and it just makes your slick look even messier.

He inhales a deep breath, and lets out a shallow laugh as his head drops in defeat. Can't even play it cool. He wants you. Wants you more than he needs air to breathe.

It's just pheromones, and he knows this. Knows how gets when he likes a girl. Knows how fucking nasty he can get in pursuit of her scent. In the very worst cases, he finds himself enjoying feet . Underarms. Underwear. Anywhere that's gonna release them.

He always liked the smell of your perfume; the fragrances you'd layer over yourself to mask your natural scent - but it's 5am, and you've been in a club all evening. Your perfume has worn off. This is all you.

And he knows he's utterly screwed.

His lips trail up your thigh. Head tilts. It's his nose, now, that's making contact with your clothed cunt. He's slow. Tepid. Taking his time, 'cause he's thought about this during so many lonely nights and doesn't wanna waste it.

His nose rests against the fabric that's keeping you away from him. His perpetually dewy nose dampens as he nudges against you. He inhales. Is shaky, in the way that he breathes. "Fuck."

The pressure of his nose against you deepens. He groans. Mumbles some incoherent shit about how fucking good you smell. Presses his lips against the soaked satin. Kisses. Get his lips all glossy.

He kitten licks, then drags his tongue up your underwear. Knows he'll get so much more of your taste if he just takes them off, but he's scared. Worries that having your cunt in his mouth will ruin him for the rest of his life.

And so he continues taking his time. Uses his tongue. Teases where he thinks your clit could be. He's not too far off, but it's hidden by your folds that have swollen quite considerably. He's teasing too much. Getting you too needy. His thumb presses over the wettest part of your panties, where he knows your hole must be. The way the material gives just a little, and the way you sigh into his touch only proves this.

"Please," you whisper.

Jeongguk nods, not once losing contact with your cunt, until he slowly pulls back. Runs his fingers over your soaked panties. Studies the way they cling to you. Looks up at you as he gently massages you. Runs his index finger under the laces edge of your panties. "You want them off, B?"

The way you're looking at him - eyes all wide, lips pouty - has him desperate for you. You could ask him to spend eternity with his face buried in your cunt, and he thinks he would.

He taps the side of your thigh - "hips" - and encourages you to raise yourself. His fingers hook over the sides of your underwear.

"Dress," he says, indicating his desire for you to take that off too, now that you can. Is too busy staring at your cunt, and the way your slick juices string to your underwear as he pulls them down to even realise you're taking it off. Bra, too.

Jeongguk is tentative as he gets your panties off. Hold your feet as he slips your ankle through them, and repeats. Doesn't get rid of them immediately.

He's so fucking hard he thinks he might die - and it only gets worse when he brings your sopping wet panties to his nose. It's lewd . The way he inhales your scent is erotic to the point of it being perverse - but it has you leaking for him. His dark eyes fall open, and land on yours.

The material hooks over his fingers, as Jeongguk reaches over to squeeze one of your tits. He's missed them. Will scream 'I'm an ass guy' until the cows come home, but knows it's your nipples he'll be sucking on when you inevitably milk him of his cum a little later. Your panties drag over the hardened bud of your nipple as he toys with you. Smears your juices all over it. Glistens as Jeongguk sits up a little to bring your panties to your mouth.

"Wanna see how good you taste?" He asks, as if you aren't parting your lips for him regardless. You nod, all pathetic and needy as your tongue rests flat for him to do as he pleases - which, at the moment, is pushing your slick-covered panties into your mouth. Thinks they'll probably help. Will muffle your whines, at least. Works a treat as you whimper a little when he taps your jaw. 'Close your mouth', he's saying silently - and so you do.

He pulls back a little, fingers dipping to slide between your folds, eyes on your face, still. Smirks. Uses the fingers that aren't exploring your slippery cunt to squeeze at your chest. Your eyes are so wide. You whimper. He deliberately didn't stuff your underwear completely in your mouth. Likes seeing the satin. Likes knowing how willing you are to do anything for him. His thumb swipes over the slick on your nipple. Massages it in - and decides it's a waste. Leans down to latch his lips around your hardened bud.

He's the one whining now. Loves the way you feel in his mouth. Loves licking the taste from your skin. The fingers toying with your folds search for your slit, and push themselves into you as Jeongguk sucks on your nipple.

Not a boob guy, not a boob guy, not a boob guy - and yet as he pulls himself back, releasing you with a slight pop from the suction of his lips leaving your nipple, he smiles. Watches the way your tit wobbles, all soft, nipples hard, desperate for his return. He pushes his fingers deeper inside of you. Tells you how much he's missed them.

He reaches up to hook your panties in his fingers again. Pulls them from your mouth. Tosses them down. The way you're whimpering deserved to be heard, he decides.

His lips press a chaste kiss to your other nipple. Tongue flicks. He sucks. Just for a second. He's got places to be; a cunt plugged with his fingers that he's dying to taste again. Trailing down your skin, his lips leave a pretty dewy trail.

You hadn't been expecting the night to end like this, so while you're nice and neat and trimmed, your pussy is a little less bare than normal. Jeongguk likes it. Would never impose his preferences, but knows that this is it. Always has been. Enjoys the way your slick catches in your hair; how messy you look for him. Your juices string across your folds, and decides he can't keep his tongue away any longer.

The first lick is slow. Flat. He whines against you. Stalls his fingers, 'cause he wants to focus on the sensation; how warm you are, how delicious he thinks you taste. His tongue flicks as he reaches the northernmost point of your folds, and the way your body shudders a little is indication enough that he knows exactly where to focus. Of course he does. Your clit has swollen just as much as your folds, desperate for a little relief.

He doesn't give you it. Not yet. The lewd sounds of his fingers pushing back into your cunt makes him smirk. You're so unbelievably wet. Wetter than he thinks he's ever had you - and you've never been exactly dry for him. Maybe it's the alcohol. Maybe you've missed him. Maybe it's both. When his tongue presses back into your folds, you know it's neither of those things.

You're soaked because he just knows what he's doing. Understands your body. Drags his tongue up and down your cunt, fingers fucking themselves into you. The sensation is unbearable. You need more - and more is what he gives you when his spare hand eases your lips apart, spreading your pussy so that he can get better access to your clit. The tip of his tongue massages against you ever so gently. He's careful not to be too aggressive - until he spits at it.

"Shit," you whine, letting your back sink into his sheets. You'd been watching, but now all you want to do is feel . You're scared that watching him - his pretty lashes splayed over the top of his cheeks, his dewy, wet, nose nudging your clit, the way his tongue laps against it- will finish you off too quickly. And that's before you even consider the mirror on the far wall, and the way his broad back looks perfectly positioned with your legs hooked over his shoulders.

He spreads his spit with his thumb. Smirks as your body shudders. "You okay, B?"

"Mhmm," you mumble, teeth biting the pad of your palm beneath your thumb. You're trying to keep quiet.

"Asked you a question," he says as his thumb builds speed, flicking over you gently. He's careful, but controlled. Your body writhes from his touch, legs pushing down on his shoulders, encouraging his face back to where he belongs. He almost whispers as his lips ghost your clit. "Tell me you're okay. Chess is always an option."

Why the fuck you'd wanna play chess is beyond you - and then you remember. Oh, he's so attentive. So kind. So gentle. So deserving of a blowjob.

"I'm okay," you promise, and Jeongguk finally lets his lips wrap around your clit. There's a provocative nature to the way he lets himself get all breathless and grunty. His tongue licks tenderly against your clit, but his fingers have been going for so long he's scared he'll cramp.

The way you whimper when he pulls them out is like music to his ears. Needy and pathetic. Gets his cock all hard.

You loved being plugged by him. Love the fullness he gives you. Hate to lose it.

His hands push back your thighs now. He studies you. Watches the clear fluid leak from you. Knows that your pussy must be desperate for his cock. Doesn't want to let any go to waste, so quickly licks it up. Sinks his tongue into the entrance of your hole. Can't go too far, but doesn't care to. Just wants to tease. To taste you. Drink nectar straight from the source.

One of your hands clasps over his fingers by your thigh. The other tenderly scratches at his scalp. You love his hair like this, all messy and indicative of the fact he's been up to no good. As he pulls away from you, lips glossy, a string of slick briefly keeping him attached to you, lip ring coated in the very essence of you, you decide you never want another face between your legs again. He's too pretty. You'll always compare.

He looks up at you with total adoration, a lopsided grin on his face as you scratch behind his ear. He's well aware he must look like a fucking puppy dog, but he doesn't care.

"You're so good," you tell him. Want him to know. Smirk, because you're aware of the dog parallels, too. "Such a good boy."

That shouldn't make Jeongguk's cock twitch as much as it does.

The hand in his hair encourages him back down, and he decides to show you just how good he really can be. His tongue roams between your folds, licking, and lapping. He's fast, and he's intentional, lips pouting as they press kisses against you, and even more so when they suck your sensitive bud between them.

Eyes closed, hands in his hair, legs wrapping around his head, you think of how pretty he is; how unspoilt his features are. You've never seen a nose so perfectly sloped or a cupid's bow so idyllic. It's the perfect ridge for your juices to gather, and Jeongguk knows this. Already isn't looking forward to his shower, 'cause he doesn't wanna lose the scent of you.

His pace increases. Fingers sink back into you. He's taking you for all you're worth; will win your orgasm fair and square. Needs it. Thinks he'll die without it.

The sounds of Jeongguk eating your pussy echo into his room; his fingers pushing you to the point of no return as his tongue massages you to a hedonistic state of being. The pressure in the very pit of your tummy builds. Your grip on his hair tights. You curse. Whimper.

"Right there. Fuck . Right there."

He doesn't ease. Gets faster. Edges and edges until he can edge no further. The wave crashes over; your release dizzying and detrimental all in one blow. It jolts through you, legs shaking, hot walls clenching, breathless mewls of pleasure letting Jeongguk know just how well he did. He doesn't stop. Pushes you further. Gets you gasping.

"Gguk," you whimper. "I- Fuck."

He nods against you. Doesn't stop. Lets his nose nestle into your folds. Holds his tongue back, just to say, "this cunt... fuck ."

You giggle, now. Jeongguk feels you tightening as you do so. Eases his fingers from you. Keeps you spread apart. Wants to see how messy you are - but is cut short when you say, "c'mere."

He doesn't even think about it. Just discards himself of his clothes and comes to join you on his bed. Will do anything you ask of him. There's a silly little smile on his pussy-drenched lips as his head nestles next to yours, face still covered in glitter. He's so heavenly like this; so angelic when he's unmistakably yours.

You aren't really thinking as you move closer. Your natural inclination is to kiss him, for a job well done. You realise just in time. Stop yourself. Grin as you nudge your nose against his, not caring for the fact he's covered in your cunt.

He grins, too. Laughs a little. "Was that okay?"

You nod. Wanna kiss him so badly. Speak, just stop yourself. Echo a thought you've shared before. "You really should start an only fans."

He laughs again. It's hearty and wholesome, and pure - or as pure as it can be, when he's covered in evidence of making your pussy cum. Neither of you really care for cleaning up just yet. His smile is too big. Dimples too deep. Lines beneath his eyes too telling of his happiness. God, he's missed you.

"I'd be no good on my own," he tells you. "Would need you to help me out."

You protest. Tell him to buy one of those fake pussy fuck-toys. Says it's all he needs. He corrects you. Tells you they're fleshlights, but doesn't tell you he's got one hidden in the back of his drawer from a particularly dry spell.

"No, not those," you say. "I mean like, the full torso ones. The ones with tits."

"Why would I want one of them?" He smirks, as his hands are quite literally squeezing at your boobs. He's just keeping them warm. That's all. "Ass guy."

You don't even dignify him with a verbalised response. Just tilt your head down to where Jeongguk is rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

"What?" He feigns indifference.

"Your lies will catch up with you," you promise him. He pushes your tits up as far as he can, dipping down to suck delicately on your nipples. Just for a couple of seconds. Maybe five. Six. Okay, ten - but you feel so nice in his mouth, so soothing - and then it's twenty seconds. Thirty. Forty.

He switches nipples. Repeats. Pulls away. Is so hard he thinks he might cum prematurely if he doesn't get a release soon.

You've completely altered his sense of desire. Ruined him for anyone else. You'd argue you've made him better. Deep down, he'd know it to be true.

"Gguk?"

"Hmm?" he mumbles a little lazily against your skin.

You toy with his hair, raking your finger through his silky waves. Any product he had been wearing in it seems to be redundant now, your hands too busy messing with it for it to hold its shape. He had looked so pretty all night.

Looks prettiest, now.

"I'm sorry I stole your chance to have a New Year's kiss," you say, thinking of how many girls must have wanted him.

The smile on his face falters a little. He's quiet for a moment, then speaks with absolute sincerity. "Meant what I said. I've a whole year for kisses, B. They can wait. Wanted to be with you when New Year came in."

"I feel bad," you whisper.

"Don't." He opens his eyes, and sees how stark your self-imposed guilt is. Your hands are still toying with his hair, so he holds onto your wrists and rests the pad of his thumb in the palm of your hand. Is contented when your fingers close down on it. He shakes your hand a little, and smiles tenderly. "Don't. Really, B. Are you sad?" He asks. "That you didn't have one, I mean? Did you want one?"

Answers are complex when they're both yes and no; much like this one. You would have wanted one for the sake of enjoying a silly little tradition - but you didn't wanna kiss a stranger, and didn't want to kiss those close to you, either.

And so you deflect with a joke. "Why? Are you offering?"

Stupid joke. Stupid fuckin' joke .

Jeongguk knows it's a joke. Weighs up how he could respond. Sincerity seems too heavy. Joking back seems too careless.

And so he tries honesty.

"Yeah," he whispers. "I am."

His lips ghost yours, 'cause he'll never be the one to put pressure behind them first. He wants to. Is dying to.

Thinks, in classic Jeongguk style, that he'll die if can't do it one day soon.

The way you always get so close to him, suffocate him in your hair and the scent of your perfume, drives him mad. He's spent so many hours trying not to kiss you. Has never shared the taste of your tongue, but has shared oxygen with you. Thinks there's nothing to be scared of - but knows that you are.

He'll never ridicule your fears. Not intentionally.

And so he is patient, and perfectly restrained with you.

Some say it's a virtue.

Yet as you wish he'd just do it - rip the band aid - you can't help but think of it as a vice.

He'll never do you wrong. Sometimes you wish he would.

But that's the thing about wishes. There's no divine intervention from an arbitrary God. No stars changing alignment. The luck you manifest is yours and yours alone. Wishes come true because you will it to be that way.

Jeongguks grip on your waist tightens as your nose nudges deeper against his. There's a deliberate nature to your movements; how your hand rests on his jaw and how your leg hooks over his hip. The fluidity of your bodies together makes it so easy.

The grip on your waist is diverted to your ass. His fingers squeeze. Lips pout. Hips roll.

He husks your name. Not disco ball. Not Byeol. Your actual fucking name. Fucking whines against your lips. Can barely fuckin' breathe. "Please."

Your lips brush his. No pressure. Just aligning. Seeing how his lip ring feels. Jeongguk's semi begins to stiffen as he rubs himself against you again. His breathing is fucked.

Slowly - nervously, timidly - you slip your lips between his. Sink into the space left between them. Your bottom lip is plush between his. He doesn't press down. He waits. Waits and waits and waits. Has been waiting for months. What hurt will a few seconds do?

The hand you're resting on his jaw pulls him closer. Dictates his moves. This is all up to you.

The way your body nervously awaits the pressure you're refusing to apply is so telling. The delicate buds of your nipples that Jeongguk has grown to adore are hard against his bare chest. He's having to be careful as he rubs up against you, because your pussy is getting wetter and wetter. Coated in everything you are, Jeongguk's throbbing cock slides between your folds, massaging you in a way that you'll never grow tired of.

Jeongguk wants to speak; to encourage you.

Any words spoken would result in the closing of his lips and the removal of your ability to choose this - and so he stays quiet. Moans a little when the friction of his foreskin sliding back against your wet folds gets a little too good.

You smile. Like the way it feels. Can feel the slick build, then leak from the depths of your cunt. Know that you're one overly-eager rut away from him fucking himself into you.

Maybe you should pull away. Maybe you should let him fuck you instead.

But you've come so far.

You're safe. Warm. Content. With your favourite person in the whole entire world.

If you can't kiss him, then who the fuck can you kiss?

You still your hips. So does he. Deepen the position of your lips, until you know they can go no further. His nose is nestled next to yours, a shallow breath reminding you that life will go on - you'll still breathe - even if your lips close down on his.

He's always told you that he's not scared of you.

It's time to reciprocate that.

And so silently, as you press your lips down into his, you let go of a fear that's been holding you back for far too long.

It takes Jeongguk a moment to kiss you back. He wants to be sure you're sure.

But you are.

His lips slowly accept this new sensation; the softness of your bottom lip, the feeling of your nose as it nudges against his, the pining sensation that's so often left on his lips being remedied.

He's kissing you. Slowly, silently, serenely. It lasts for hours, but also for just a second. You're not sure which is more accurate as your lips naturally part for a moment; to breathe. To assess. To realign. To repeat.

He kisses you again. Once. Twice. Deeper, a third time. His hips begin to rut. His moans vibrate against you. The slipperiness of your pussy is juxtaposed to the innocence of such pure kisses. Lips still on his, you reach down to where your bodies are so well acquainted, it's like interrupting a conversation. Your nimble fingers wrap around Jeongguk's length. He moans. Wants to say something, but can't. Doesn't want to stop kissing you.

You move your hips. Line him up. Nod into the kiss. A hard breath exhales from his nose against your cheek, his whine echoing into your mouth as the tip of his cock penetrates your entrance. The fit is tight - snug - but so welcome. It's like coming home, he thinks.

"You're so fucking good," he whines into your lips, then presses down against them once more. "Such a good fuckin' girl for me."

He means it. You are good for him. Give him somewhere he belongs; somewhere he'll never feel alien. A girl full of galaxies, yet he's home no matter which cosmic entity you remind him of on any given day of the week.

You whine a little as his hips pulse up, pushing his dick into you. He's so big, and you're still so sensitive from how well he ate you out earlier, but you think you'd rather die than not see this through. You'll take the overstimulation, take whatever he'll give you, just to feel that fullness you only get from him.

Jeongguk grunts as he fucks himself into you. Gets breathless. Gets moany. Gets mean. Nasty.

"Gonna nut inside you," he tells you. You smirk against his lips. You love it when he gets all chatty and tells you all kinds of shit he never would if he wasn't on the brink of an orgasm. "God, I'm gonna fill your pussy up with my cum. Gonna fill you so well. Fill you forever."

That's not exactly how anatomy works and you go to tell him as such - but he changes position. Gets you on your back. Sits on his heels. Grips your waist with one hand, your chest with the other. Squeezes. Gets you whining. He pulses his hips slowly. Once. Fuck . Twice. Yes . And then he's back to a pace that feels more like him; fast and rough.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours is almost as loud as the breathless moans you can't be bothered to hide. He's making you feel so good as he pumps himself into you. It's only fair he knows just how well he's doing.

He squeezes at one of your boobs. Pinches your nipple. Pulls a little. Makes you moan. Does the same to the other side. Watches as they move from the momentum of his hips. Is fucking obsessed. Can't believe he wasted so many years convinced he was an ass guy. Loves your ass, granted, but fuck .

And when your hand sinks down to play with your clit while he's fucking his fat cock into your tight hole? God. Jeongguk thinks he might just die.

Tells you so.

"Gonna kill me off, you are."

You giggle. The way your pussy throbs around him? Yeah. Chances of death? Rapidly increasing.

"Feel good?" you check, just in case.

He nods. Wishes you could experience what it's like to fuck you; how good feel. How much he loves being trapped inside you. Makes his already desperate cock throb when he has those moments of clarity; he's fucking you. His cock? It's inside you. It's a simple thought process, but one that always overwhelms him.

Sinking down to suck on your nipples, tits in a white-knuckle death grip, Jeongguk knows if he thinks in any great depth, then that will be it. He'll cum. He wants this to last. Knows it can - but also knows your pussy is gonna make him cum so so soon.

So lost in his thoughts, he almost doesn't notice when you call his name. If it weren't for your hand cupping beneath his chin and pulling him down, he might not have realised at all. "Gguk?"

He follows your lead. Is about to sink his lips in yours when he replies, "Yeah, baby?"

He doesn't mean to call you that. Knows he absolutely should not have called you that. Kisses you again to distract from the fact he did. Ruts into you faster. Harder. Revels in the tightness of your walls, and the softness of your lips.

Knows he should check what you needed, but it was nothing, Just wanted him to look at you. But he'd called you baby. Oh, you're all sorts of fucked up. Try not to think about it. Your distraction method? A kiss . The waters are getting so muddy. This is so bad. Detrimental.

But fuck. He's close. So close. Doesn't wanna stop; any of it. Doesn't wanna stop fucking you. Doesn't wanna stop kissing you. God. He can't believe he can . Can't believe he knows what your moans sound like when they're vibrating into his mouth. Can barely wrap his head around the fact your tongue is in his mouth. He thinks he's going crazy. Thinks he might have already died. There's no way he can feel this at home inside another person's body.

But he does.

Knows that there's no pussy that's ever gotten him like this. Would be foolish to think you're the only person who will ever make him feel this way, but he quite enjoys playing the fool.

Jeongguk's skin is clammy. Sweat beads on his skin. Some of it catches on your skin as you move your hands from his back to cup his sharp jaw, and find yourself obsessed . Primitive desire, you think. Just like Jeongguk's obsession with your scent. All just survival of the fittest, built to breed, type shit. Of all the people he could fuck his sperm into, his body seems to think you'd be a good match. He trusts it. Agrees with it.

"Fucking me so well," you tell him. "Working so hard."

He nods, forehead resting in the crook of your neck. "Working so hard, B. Wanna make you feel good."

There are no words to articulate the way Jeongguk feels inside of you. No size grand enough, no adjective complimentary enough. No sensation even close to the euphoria that comes with being fucked by Jeon Jeongguk.

You press a tiny little kiss to his lips. "You do." And then you kiss him again. Deeper. Tug on his bottom lip with his teeth. Get him whining. His cock stalls. Left leg begins to shake. His right will follow, but it's always in that order. Left, then right. The way he whimpers into your mouth makes you wanna edge him for all of eternity - but he deserves this orgasm.

"Where should I- Fuck. Byeol, I'm there. I'm gonna- Fuck . Where do you want it?"

"Tits," you say without a second thought. You wanna watch him cum. Wanna see it. Wanna see how pretty his cock looks as his cum pulses out of it.

You hate how it feels when Jeongguk pulls out - how empty you are - but when he's shakily getting himself in position, jaw hanging slack, brows threaded together, lewd moans escaping his mouth as he wanks him over your tits, you know its worth it.

"That's it," you encourage. "All over my tits."

Jeongguk curses. Tightens the way he's straddling over you. Tugs at himself. Loses his fucking mind when your hand wraps around his. He lets go. It's all you; one hand around his shaft, the other softly playing with his balls. "Yeah. Yeah, Like that. Oh, fuck."

His legs shake; torso tenses. Has to grab onto his headboard just to keep himself from fucking keeling over. He's stimulated to a point he doesn't think he's reached before. Doesn't even feel like his body is his.

"Cumming," he mumbles. "I'm fucking cumming."

The way his cock twitches, balls tightening, is enough to confirm this. You keep going.

"All over my tits," you say again, just to really drive it home. "Good boy."

His whimpers are quiet as he unloads his cum onto you in thick, creamy spurts. You hold his cock against one of your tits, and let his spunk trail down them. A few more releases drip onto your skin. He sits up straighter. Looks at the mess. Wants to fuck you all over again.

He grips his still-hard cock and spanks it against your cum-covered tits. Massages his leaky head against them; rubs his cum into your skin. Lets go of his cock. Grips your tits instead. Pushes them both together, and watches as his cum smears all over them. Squeezes your nipples. Wants them in his mouth. Moves a little down the bed, and positions himself beside you. Encourages you to face him as his tongue licks against your cummy chest. He circles around your nipple. Takes it in his mouth. Sucks. One of his hands grips your other boob. Holds it close to his face so he can switch between your nipples, of which he does. Sucks for a moment or so. Teases with his tongue. Then switches. It's a back and forth that has you going insane.

And when his spare hand dips down to play with your folds? Sinks a finger back into your soaked cunt? Heaven. He fucks a second finger into you. A third. Keeps his lips suctioned around your nipples, utterly obsessed with the way it feels to have them in his mouth.

He's a little careless with his fingers, but it's exactly what you need to come undone again. You need it rough. Need him to override the overstimulation you're fighting. It doesn't take long. Your body writhes, but he keeps you close. Doesn't bother talking you through it. You both know it's his tongue against your sensitive nipples that's working the magic. Words would be wasted.

Your orgasm hits you hard. Fast. It waves over you so violently that you almost kick him. Jeongguk smirks as he begins to feel your orgasm contract around his fingers.

Your wetness seeps from you, Jeongguk still plugging your pussy. Your muscles are tight in a way he doesn't think he's experienced before. Your climax is violent. All consuming. You have to bite his pillow just to stop yourself from screaming.

It's never felt like this before. He doesn't relent. Is obsessed. It's so much wetter than usual. Your whimpers are different, too. The way your legs shake? The way you can't fucking breathe? How your pussy is quite literally clamping his fingers inside of you? It's all different. It's so much more than an orgasm.

He's never taken you this far beyond the point of a climax. Didn't know you could do this. Has only ever seen it in fucking porn. Sort of thought it was a myth - but you're squirting for him. Because of him. On him.

He will die, and you absolutely will be the cause of it.

"Fuck, B," Jeongguk curses against your lips as he realises what's happening. Keeps going. Fucks his fingers into you, still. His hand is getting wetter, still . You shake, still ; squirt, still . Jeongguk's gonna fuckin' die. That's all he can think about. Death, and pussy. His, and yours. Hell, and heaven. "That's it. Squirt for me, B. Such a good girl."

You nod, almost delirious from the pleasure he's administering. His fingers fuck into you still, your pussy contracting around him.

Eyes closed, teeth pressing down on your bottom lip, you can't think of anything except the sensation of your pussy giving itself up for him. The wave of pleasure was so intense that you hadn't noticed your release at first; not until the lewd sounds of his fingers inside of you became louder, and Jeongguk himself had realised.

You don't even really have grasp on the fact it happened. Knew that it could, but you've been the only person to ever get yourself that far. Never has someone else ever made you squirt. You don't think you ever really trusted anyone enough with your body to give it up entirely.

But Jeongguk is Jeongguk. There's nothing to be scared of.

"Koo," you whimper as you finally get some control over yourself, body jolting from the intensity of it all.

He's slow to withdraw his fingers. Doesn't want to, but also knows he has to be gentle.

"I know, baby," he husks a little breathlessly, as he presses a kiss into your shaky lips. "I know."

In all honesty, he doesn't know. Doesn't have a clue what you could possibly be thinking. Just knows he's feeling all sorts of fucked up, and that you probably are, too.

It's been a long night. You've both been through it.

But you both feel overwhelmingly at ease.

"Sorry," he whispers. Presses a kiss against your hair.

"Mhmm?" You question, still deliriously spent. There's so much to do. Sheets to change. Showers to be had. You just wanna laze with him a little while longer. "What for?"

Jeongguk holds you close. Doesn't wanna lose this, either. He knows how you get once the morning comes and regrets start creeping in. He's doing damage control early. Letting you know that it's okay.

"I broke your rules," he says, as if you weren't a willing participant.

You shake your head. You kissed him first. Kissed him when he called you baby. Rewarded him for his misdemeanours. Of course he'd be a repeat offender. You're just as much to blame.

"Don't do that."

"Apologise?"

"Don't put all the blame on you. It's not," you say, before leaning up to steal an ever-so-sacred kiss from his lips. "There. I did it. I broke them. My fault."

"B-"

"If you try and apologise I'm gonna think you regret it," you tell him.

Jeongguk shuts up. Plans to remain silent. Can't help himself, though. Thinks it's important you know how he feels about you, and the birds, and this whole fuckin' mess.

"I've never regretted a thing we've done, B. Never."

His tone consumes you. Is so serious. So sincere. It makes you nervous - so you deflect.

"What about that time we accidentally ordered the extra spicy tteokbokki?"

He smiles. Laughs. Is serene as he eases up. "Okay. One regret."

You kiss him. Lips soft. Touch tender. Just 'cause you can. Just 'cause you wanna.

Have resigned yourself to the fact this is one-night-only kind of thing; that come the next morning, you'll laugh about it.

'Can you believe we kissed?' 'Let's never do that again.' 'So weird.' 'Just a friendly kiss. Sort of like kissing a fish, actually.' 'I'm gonna sew your mouth shut one day.'

And so for now, as Jeongguk encourages you up - "c'mon. Shower. You get in. I'll sort the sheets. Will join you in a second, okay?" - and kisses you again before you leave, you revel in it.

You stand alone under the crashing water, wondering what the fuck you've just done. Contemplating how badly this will all end up biting you in the arse.

Jeongguk does much the same. Looks at himself in the mirror; naked and alone. Can see evidence of you all over his skin - scratch marks, pretty purple bouquets delivered by your lips, the sheen of your slick - and decides he likes himself better this way. Doesn't think he'll look like himself when it's all washed away.

He makes up his bed. Puts a fresh sheet down, and tosses the old one by his door, ready for a wash. Goes to chuck his pillows on the floor - and then just doesn't. If you want the space, he'll give you it, no questions asked. He doesn't want the space, though. Wants you in his bed again. Wants you close.

And as he comes to join you in the shower, a protective arm slinking around your waist, lips pressed into your neck, you know that you don't want to be alone. Not for the rest of the night, at least. The glitter might wash away, but this feeling? He's not certain.

You're not sure that waking up beside him will be sensible for your fragile heart, but can't stand the idea of not falling asleep beside him. He's so warm. It's the smart thing to do. Will save on his heating bill.

A good decision, you think.

But since when have you ever been good at those?

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

#jungkook smut

[chaepink]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Works in Progress! ❤ - 25

last updated: 11.29.23

- this only include requests I've received and not my own ideas - i can choose to write your request into a drabble instead of a full fic if i feel like i can't write it into a fic (or if you don't really specify)

disclaimer: i reserve the right to combine requests if they're similar

Haikyu!!

♡ tsukishima kei

bratty tsukishima w edging and overstim pls bae :)

Aha ay Can I request edging and overstimming Tsukki as punishment after a whole day of him being a brat? Maybe some dacryphilia if you're up for it Ty so much for your time! I love your work

♡ kenma kozume

Kenma as a part-time stripper? Or just a stripper please

♡ osamu miya & atsumu miya

Can I request one where we peg osamu in front of atsumu as punishment for being a brat, we just keep calling osamu a good boy while completely ignoring atsumu, and once we're done with osamu we pound the fuck out of atsumu 😫🙏

My Hero Academia

♡ midoriya izuku

Hey, Can you write for Midoriya with a mommy/Daddy Kink where Midoriya had a bad day and wants to be pampered

I AM BEGGING YOU TO WRITE ABOUT FEM!READER PUNISHING (SPANKING) A SENSITIVE AND SPOILED IZUKU MIDORIYA EVEN THO HES BEING THE GOODEST BOY AS ALWAYS

♡ iida tenya

can i have a iida being hit by sex pollen and reader helping him out please

request numero dos idk but iida with nipple piercings has me reeling. tbh the chance of him actually ever getting them is zero but he actually does and reader discovers them? hoo boy. Imagine he got them all for reader too

♡ dabi

hiii can i request a sugar baby!dabi x sugarmommy!reader were dabi weres the most sluttiest things every day just so people can compliment him and so that the reader punishes and fucks him everyday cause reader is possesive and is turned on by what he wears and dabi also trys to stick his ass almost everywere cause reader is an ass person

♡ shigaraki

hey I was wondering if you could write about sub tomura shigaraki whose a virgin and like being humiliated and degraded? Thanks&lt;3

Chainsaw Man

♡ aki

hi chae!! can i request a sub aki w bondage ? he'd look so good tied up ughngnng..,.,

♡ denji

can i request first time w denji??😊 he would be so pussy drunk n dumb n begging for more loorrrddd

Demon Slayer

♡ rengoku

hii so can you do a sub!rengoku x femdom!vampire reader one? details: y/n is having a bad day and rengoku wants to see whats up with her yk? and when hes finally sick of seeing her bottling all this anger up he wants her to take out her anger on him. Like he just offers her his neck with no hesitation yk? AAAA im down bad (pls include choking and her marking him as well)

Jujutsu Kaisen

♡ gojo satoru

If you're up for it, I have a request or a concept you're more than welcome to add on to or take away from! Please and thank you &lt;3 You know how Gojo thinks he's all that? He's rich, charming, and the greatest sorcerer. He should be worshiped and praised at all times for it, right? Basically, he's being annoying so you punish him by riding him and while acting tired and disinterested at the same time since he lives for attention and praise. It should totally eat him up the fact that you're not praising him for being a good boy, for making you feel good- paired with your lazy movements, pretty much edging him the whole time. You bet your ass he tears up when you fake yawn lmao

Bully reader with nerd virgin Gojo please

ALRIGHTALRIGHTALRIGHT- Can I request making Gojo keep a remote vibrator up his ass for a day. Like you'll go to meetings and missions with him while fuckin around with the remote kicking up the intensity to make him squirm and hold back moans.

Sub bully gojo like he was planning on fucking and bullying reader when the opposite went way? Like reader had enough of his bullshit and makes him cry and overstimulates him?

Can i request sub yandere Gojo hcs , him as a boyfriend

♡ sukuna

Request for fem!reader × sukuna. I'm sick of these fanfictions where a character humiliates, insults, changes and the reader accepts it with adoration. Why not put bully!sukuna in its place? It can be a Sukuna king or a Sukuna at school. Facesitting, strangulation or a strap that will make a Sukuna regret

♡ geto suguru

Hi! I'd like to request for something with Geto Suguru and dumbification please. How about a scenario where gn!reader (with yandere undertones if you're okay with that) gets jealous when Geto was just being too nice with someone else, and takes him home to fuck him roughly until he's drooling all over himself. <3 Thank you if you do this!

♡ megumi

Coyld u pls write megumi with dom and mean reader with mommy kink. Then the reader's overstimulating him till he cry or smthng. (Then there's a fluff in the end?)😭 LIKE PLLSSS

♡ toji

Hi I was the anon who asked about requests- may I request Toji being a brat so you edge him And if you're up for it some knifeplay too with his own cursed dagger Tysm in advance and I love your writing!!

♡ yandere

Could you write sub!yandere/dom!reader where the reader doesn't actually feel sexual attraction but likes to watch their reactions to things like overstim, edging, object insertion, toys, etc?

BABE ILY AND YOUR WORK PLS PLS CAN YOU MAKE MASC!DOM READER WITH A HAREM OF HEAD OVER HEELS YANDERE BOYS!! reader is teasing, cheeky, taunting, etc, yk the personality like a fox? Yeah! And reader is a experimentalist master who is a really addictive sadist? -love you♡♪

Just another brat Yandere w strict gn/m!dom🤭 look straps are very versatile too you know sizes…

#chaepink.wips #dom!reader #sub!character #dom reader #sub!mha #sub!haikyuu #sub!csm #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #mha x reader #mha smut #csm x reader #sub!ushijima #sub!kageyama #sub!kuroo #sub!tsukishima #sub character #sub!hinata #sub!kaminari #sub!yamaguchi #sub!izuku #sub!oikawa #sub!aki #sub!sugawara #sub!denji #sub!kirishima #sub!kenma #sub!bakugo #sub!bokuto #sub!midoriya

[cursedalthoughts]

PR7 Predictions - Sardegna Empire (1st take)

"Wow, isn't it a bit too early to do Priority Research 7 predictions?"

Yes, yes it is. Hence why this is my 1st take/iteration on it. Maybe in a few months from now - around April or May of 2024 - I make an updated post on this.

However, Wargaming loves giving weird fucked up ships that never existed to Italy, and it is my duty to fantasize about their shipgirl forms and tell you all about it. Like the other times, these are all the possible ships that could be added as a research option in PR7. None of them are more likely than any other in my opinion, although I do have my biases.

Venezia

Let's begin strong. Venezia is by far the strongest heavy cruiser in terms of broadside throweight - that is, the amount of shells she can ditch out in one salvo. 15 203mm guns in triple turrets, guns that can shoot semi-armor piercing shells which are extremely funny against destroyers and cruisers. Venezia also has, like most Italian cruisers, a crawling smoke screen that follows the ship even at maximum speed (a thing - speed - she has plenty of), meaning she can remain stealthy even in open waters. She's very funny imho. Potential DR.

Napoli

I said we would begin strong. Napoli, especially after the recent commander skill rework, is an absolute menace. Her main guns are strong but not the main focus of the ship (3 triple 254mm turrets, so 9 guns), as she doesn't have access to SAP; only HE and AP. Her torpedoes are good but not the main focus either. Instead, the main thing about this ship is her secondary guns. Napoli has a total of four 152mm triple gun turrets and six 90mm dual gun turrets, with an 11km max range and absurd built-in accuracy (rivaling that of a fully built secondary-gun Ohio, one of the most accurate secondary gun battleships in the game), and they all shoot SAP.

Napoli is a dangerous ship to face, as she also has access to the standard crawling smoke screens of other Italian cruisers. She, too, would be DR.

Michelangelo (don't have her yet so have this official promotional pic)

If Napoli wasn't enough, she has a brand new, even more unique cousin at Tier 9. Michelangelo has half a kilometer less range on her secondary guns (10.5km) as she's one tier lower and isn't a German cruiser (Admiral Schröder has 12km range at the same tier lol), but that doesn't make her worse.

Her secondary guns are centerline, meaning her 3 quadruple 152mm turrets and her fuckton of 90mm dual turrets (haven't counted them) can focus on one target very efficiently. And to make the ship worse even better, she has two quadruple 320mm main battery guns in the middle of the ship, meaning they get absolutely dogshit angles at all times. And all these guns shoot SAP.

Like, legit. If you want to know how funny this ship can get, I recommend watching Potato Quality's recent video on her (only if you know anything about WoWs tho).

Ruggiero di Lauria

The final ship, Ruggiero di Lauria.

She's a battlecruiser with standard Italian BB dispersion (so, awful) and 8 457mm guns in dual turrets that can shoot SAP. Her whole deal is ignoring the angle of enemy cruisers and some battleships, as those 457mm guns do ridiculous damage against angled ships with their SAP.

Other than that, she's rather mediocre in every other regard.

#azur lane #gacha game #gacha #priority research #azurlane #world of warships #wows #sardegna empire

[beheadedhoward]

HIHIHI THIS IS MY INTRO POST THING FOR MY PINNED!! :3 ITS NOT VERY WELL PUT TOGETHER BUT I'LL FIX IT EVENTUALLY I SWEARRRR

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DNI

mainly just basic dni criteria (racist, lgbtqphobic, ableist, etc)

radinclus and radexclus, terf, antineoprns/antixenogender, zionist

nsfw accounts and proshippers

-------------------------------------

ABOUT ME :3

my name is robbie or kenz/kenzie, idrc what im called but those are like always good kinda names for me yk

he/ghost and really any neoprns, dont use it/its for me unless we're close pls

im NOT used to tumblr yet ive barely used it until a few days ago but ive had it for a while, im one of those twitter refugees from that one time. so that might explain some stuff yk

this is not my main i made this just for six and other musicals maybe. my main is @/feelterribleinc

I am autistic, bpd, bipolar, anxiety and cptsd

im a trans guy (and prob bigender with that but like mostly a guy) and most likely gay, also aroacespec

I AM A MINOR!!!

i am always way too scared to message first so if you ever want to become friends or talk to me you have to do it first I will not ever get the hint!!!

i am cringe but i am free or whatever o7

i experience delusions often! i am delusional! a lot of the time its harmful things but i won't talk about those often! less harmful delusions of mine are genuinely believing i am someone else/a character i like

im an artist and a kind of writer!! i will likely only post six fanart on here, but all my art will be on my other account. keep in mind all the art there rn is old

im very very very passionate about my interests be warned ...

-------------------------------------

WHAT I LIKE:0c

this will be a list of my main interests, and some music i like and some musicals ive seen

main interests:

Six (obv)

^ because of this, the tudor family and royals in general !

Monster Hugh

Scott Pilgrim

Coraline

MLP

SpongeBob (more so the musical than the show, but both either way)

Into The Woods

Musicals I like/have seen:

Six

SpongeBob

Legally Blonde

Addams Family

West Side Story (havent seen the newer one tho)

Matilda

High School Musical

Dear Evan Hansen

Into The Woods

this list will be updated as i watch more so. yaur !

Music:

The Front Bottoms

Pierce The Veil

Penelope Scott

System Of a Down

Korn

Mommy Long Legs

and a LOT more.

after here isnt as important BUT i would like it to be read if you so desire

if youre not reading on, thank you for reading byee:3

more info regarding the fandoms im in

i am VERY passionate abt my fav ships and such (i'll list my main ones that will be posted abt at the bottom of this section)

i headcanon my favs very heavily, and it will show when I draw them or write about them. for characters i hc to be a different gender or use different prns than canon, i will try to use the prns and such they use in canon when i talk about them

while i have a lot of interests, im mainly gonna post about six and some spongebob since those two are my most recent hyperfixes. with that includes anything with theatre

if you read to here thanks! and bye!! if you have questions then uh yeah do your thing

my main ships: araleyn, clevemour, parrward, plankaren, patbob

(also: not at the same time as the other six ships but parrleyn, katanna, parrmour, aramour)

THANK YOU GOODBYE XO BABYS

#pinned post #pinned intro

[gas-stxtion]

//been meaning for a while to make some updates to my designs for the tftgs gang so that's what i've been trying to pick at today lmao- nothing too major, but refining how i depict them now that i'm MUCH much more settled on my headcanons.

if anyone's interested, potential changelog under the cut lmao:

i wanna draw jack with slightly curlier hair in general, rather than completely straight (heh). i also wanna give him some freckles and a biiiit more in the facial hair department. he'll never have a full beard unless he goes a while without shaving, but i wanna see how i feel about making him scruffier and more unkempt.

jerry's gonna have a lot of changes- i wanna change up how i draw his hair and make it like. simultaneously messy but in a clearly intentional way. really thinking about that one artist on tumblr who gives him a big ponytail... that feels right. also making him a little chunkier and changing how i draw his piercings. BIG THING THO is i wanna give him a gap between his front teeth!!!! i think that's such a fun idea. also my friend calvin draws jerry with heterochromia and that haunts me so i'm gonna see how i feel about doing that with my jerry.

rosa i'm not thinking about making that many changes to tbh, maybe just giving her a shorter hairstyle- more of a bob cut than shoulder-length. and probably simplifying her streaks a bit.

spencer i also wanna change up a bit, mainly like... i'm genuinely OBSESSED with my friend chai suggesting with spencer, that he just chops off his hair whenever it gets too tangled instead of actually taking care of it. so i wanna try and do that with him too. also i gotta bulk him up a little, i've done him a disservice making him a little twink. i can DRAW muscles now so I'M GONNA-

tony i mainly just wanna work my ideas for his scars in a bit more- i like to write a tony who got shot in the head and survived and i wanna play with what scars he'd have for that. i've had ideas in my head for months and i just wanna draw 'em. also thinking i'm gonna give him a cane or SOME kind of mobility aid he uses at times. otherwise he's perfect as is.

amelia i honestly never really nailed a design for i don't think- so i just wanna finalize my ideas for her. i have a specific image of her in my brain and i've never properly drawn it, so i wanna fix that.

#you know this whole thing is one big experiment‚ right? and you're the little mouse? {ooc} #//i also wanna draw a proper lil ref for sabine #//trying not to set this up to be anything too ambitious tho

[jonyxtion]

TW: Death, Sexual Language/Description, Drugs, Necrophilie

Full Name: Kimani [Redacted]

Alias: Bonme (Ohh, i am a bad bunny)

Gender + Pronouns: Woman; She/Her

Age: 26

Body Type: 🍐

Weapon of Choice: Knife Kit (pretty little shiners)

Occupation + Specialization: Stripper + Bait

Romantic Interest: M!Host

Background

"More infos on ME? Of course here ya go honey ;). Well what can i say.....OTHER then that i am fucking EXREMELY good looking, i mean ma body of course not my eyes, they suck cause i got freaking poor eyesight, can't even look as far as my hand goes :(. Anyways, i am cute 5'5, very seductive and flexible. I am an absolute party girl and have always been an attention centre. During highschool i was the head of the cheerleading team, haaah i loved every second of it, after graduating i went straight to the strip club where my mother used to work and applied for a position, yes you heard right, i wanted to continue the legacy of my mother." "Since we are talking about my mother, i guess i can say a bit about my past, even tho i- i am reluctand to talk about it. *Phew* ok...ok, so i am a only child, and have been brought up by my mother alone since my fathers death in a fatal car crash, when i was 6 years old. Even though she was a very loving parent, and i am really grateful for her, she fell into a drug addiction which sadly ended with her getting killed during a drug session by some stupid jerks, who wanted to know how it is, having sex with a dead person. I still loathe them and hope they get what they diserve. *Phew* Ok...wow t-that was hard, but i am glad i got it out of me."

Tidbits

Piercing: Nipple, Navel, Clit, Tongue

Tattoos: Tramp Stamp, multiple small ones

Birthday: October 01

Zodiac: Libra

Highly oragnized

Multilingual

Cooks for Carter and herself = great cook

Vegan

Hemophobic

Seduction GOD

Sexual Infos

Lost virginity at 16 to the captain of the basketball team

Body Count of 80+

Has tried many kinks, loves BDSM, powerplay and gloryhole sex

Massive bratty sub

Extremely flexible

Would be willing to get a tattoo, which shows that she is "owned/claimed"

Fav positions: Bomb, Missionary, Throat swap, Niagara Falls

Relationships

-Carter: Family (i wish it wasn't like this) -The Host = Crush (he's hot, like really hot)

-------------------------------------------------------

IF: @harlequinoccult (SlaughterSquad)

-------------------------------------------------------

This was honestly so much fun to do, obviously this will get updated the more the story progresses and maybe i will make a different post for a more detailed background, but it was a blast to make this what you already see here. This is one of two MCs i have and i am starting to work on the second one, pretty soon. I also tried to do something different, cause i let the character actually tell the background, tell me how it came off, was it good, was it bad, honest criticism is always appretiated.

Long story short, it was fun, NOW go PLAY this amazing IF

#if wip #my oc character #also this is the first time i made a moodboard #hope it is ok #i am very nervous #lets hope the links aren't f*cked up

[meowmeow-hours]

Sculpt update:

No pictures for this one because i really just wanna jot down some notes. So a little background, for faces in xiv you're limited to 4 materials. Fac_a (where makeup normally goes), etc_a (brows/lashes and tattoos go here), etc_b (exclusively used for rpr eyes) and iri_a (the way your eyes look). There's a lot more to it than that, but im just trying to explain the basics.

So, here's the thing. I want a few things on this sculpt: facial piercings, modded teeth & hopefully the reaper eyes. I can make do with the facial piercings & rpr eyes going on the same material for technical reasons, its going to be tricky but it's doable.

However, what's going to be a lot trickier is fitting the teeth in. I could just say "pick one or the other" but that's no fun. I want the ability to easily pick /all/ options. So what's my best course of action? Editing the layout of fac_a so that the textures required are on that sucker. But there's the problem, as you may recall makeups are exclusively on fac_a, so by doing so i'd lock users into my personalized makeup. I don't like that!

So instead, what I think im gonna try to do is include a psd file where users can just throw whatever makeup they like in under the edited layout, save as a png and import as a loose file. Idk is all of this worth rpr eyes, piercings and teeth all at once? Maybe it might just be best to say "pick one or the other, but not both."

A little more technical talk under the read more

Ok so the reason i can make the rpr eye and piercings work is pretty simple: rpr eyes have the standard/default material preset, so they come with a colorset! this is basically all that piercings need, so i was going to atlas them together by moving the rpr eyes to the left on the uv and having the piercing on the right.

That's the problem tho, all the teeth use the skin/face shader preset for materials. so they would either have to replace the etc_b (which is normally what's done), or be mapped onto fac_a which has the correct skin shader, but that goes back to what i was talking about above.

I suppose I could do something like: you choose reaper or teef, and have the piercings on an accessory. But that's... to easy.... and i like options! I shouldnt keep making more work for myself but i really do love my options

#in progress

[siivn]

as a silly habit, a little more than a year ago, I decided to start writing a dream log. you know, as one does.

mind, i only wrote down the dreams that my sleep-clouded memory could pierce together in a semblance of coherence, so I expected that i wouldn't be regularly updating this silly record. (keep also in mind that i don't usually have time to write on my phone, or anywhere really, as soon as I wake up, and by the time I can make some time during the day, I have long forgotten what my dream of the day was about)

at first, it went well.

I was excited to start recording my dreams. It was a way to familiarise myself with writing again, since I had hit a writer's block and picking up a pen or typing on my laptop only ever filled me with dread at the time. I figured jotting down a few sentences in the morning, without thinking about the grammar or the right words to use and without a pretence of making sense because dreams most of the time don't make sense, would have made the act of writing less daunting to me.

And so I started this little (foreshadowing) record of my dreams.

the first month was okay i guess. It's not like i dream every night, you know. and I don't remember all my dreams. So by the end of the first month I had written four entries. which was more than I expected, honestly.

then from september to the end of january, I wrote a whopping 1 entry. LOL

and it's not like I forgot about writing down my dreams. No. somehow, i didn't dream anything. (and even if I did, i wouldn't really know) it was like I had a blackout of dreams during those months idk

the last entry is from yesterday. which brings us to 6 dreams that I wrote down in the span of one year. not really an impressive number, but you know... It's something at least.

and since it has been a year, i figured that I would examine the little data that I collected, as I would always put a few tags for every entry, just for funzies of course, and here are the results.

i dreamt about:

getting chased by something/someone 4 times out of 6 (which is a lot)

someone trying to murder me 3 times out of 6 (fun ahah, and only once, someone's was chasing me,, which means,,)

6 out of 6, i was in some sort of danger, and that should tell you a lot about the moods of my dreams

but it really doesn't, since i tagged 2 dreams wholesome, 3 funny and only 1 bittersweet (my favorite one, btw)

4 times out of 6, my brain dreamt about someone who didn’t exist and it always was the same person (though, once he was my saviour, another he was my killer and two, he was just a random dude)

And once, I have been abducted by a fae, or something, creature with another dude (not the guy above tho) and they told us to decide who would be allowed to escape and i got yelled by dude's bigger brother (rude) bcs dude told me to escape first since he has some secret powers and would have been able to escape on his own but big bro didn't know that and thought that I selfishly abandoned his lil bro to his fate and that I was the worst person ever (I am very bitter about this dream, even after months, i hope it's not too obvious... 👉🏻👈🏻)

other tags that I used are, as follow, 1. survinging (written like this, bcs you know, I was half asleep - and that is roughly how are written all the dreams lol), 2. fighting and 3. falling

did it help with my writer's block? I don't think it did, but it's true that I am more excited about writing than I was last year, though maybe not because of this little project I started and kept up sporadically

am I going to continue writing my dreams? I mean, I really would like to... but you know how this year went, and it's possible that this trend of mine will continue, so who knows?

all in all, I would recommend everyone to try keeping a dream log, if only to read again in moments of boredom and wonder, what's wrong with my brain??

#rants n rambles #dream log #writers block #dreams #memories #ven

[pomegranates-and-blood]

Those who weave (New Series Snippet)

So, I’m starting a new series! I’m not dropping Nostalgia of course, and that series is still my priority so this one won’t have scheduled updates, but I’m having a really tough time writing (in general, and for Nostalgia in specific) so I decided to start posting this one.

It is a Reincarnation fic, basically, with some curse elements. Of course, an AU, takes place mainly in the Viking era, late Middle Ages, and modern times.

It is an Ivar/Reader fic, but it does have a lot of Freydis in it, because...it’s me, of course it has Freydis on it. I am trying a new side of her on this one tho!

A few things about this story:

It is a Reader-insert, and though I do have a faceclaim for her (Turkish actress Özge Törer) it is for graphic thingies, no descriptions in the story. However, it isn’t very inclusive, since in some of their lives her and Freydis are half sisters. I’m sorry for that.

It will be divided into three acts/lives: Sight, Love, and Time.

It is a fucking mess. I have to leave behind very important themes of the canon story, like the aspect of Valhalla, and Ivar’s ambitions of fame, and many other things, because they simply don’t fit as conflicts or themes with a multiple-lives dynamic. But I have fun writing this, and I hope you will have fun reading it.

So yeah, I really don’t know how to make these announcement thingies, but I wanted to make one for this cause a) I worked really hard on that graphic thingy and I want you to see it cause I’m stupidly proud of myself, and b) I wanna check who wants to be tagged for this.

I’m tagging those on my ‘All’ taglist, please lemme know if you wanna be added or removed! Love ya!

Snippet of...something under the cut. It technically happens during the Love Act, but it is a scene that doesn’t happen in the main story, an alternate POV of sorts.

So, quick ground rules: Ivar remembers their past lives (not all of it, but he remembers the Reader and Freydis, and sometimes other people), Freydis and the Reader don’t remember anything most of the time (but Freydis has premonitions regarding her and her sister’s futures).

I hope you like it 😉

Katia sits before you on the bed, her back to you and her eyes closed as you methodically brush her hair. Just like you used to when you were children.

Your mother taught you differently than Katia’s mother did, and she remembers how endlessly fascinated you were while growing up at how she chose to wear her hair with rarely any coverings, just as she was so delighted in finding linens and jewels to make and adorn your shawls and veils.

Your fingers replace the brush, and she feels you carefully toying with the strands of her hair.

You sigh, a little wistfully, a little lost.

“I liked it better when your hair was blonde,” You tell her, chuckling after your words like you haven’t just stopped her heart with but a sentence, “I miss braiding it.”

Katia tells herself this is nothing out of the ordinary. Since you were children she has heard you talk of a world neither of you ever knew, little lost promises of a life that was nothing but a dream.

She remembers how you’d wake her up saying your chest hurt and that you didn’t want to leave her alone, how you’d sit at her side in the mornings and ask if you’d ever be back home even as you had breakfast in the only home you had known; and she remembers how just as easily you’d lay by her side and sleep again with no memory of your pain come morning, how you’d smile wistfully and forget your nostalgia with a bite of a biscuit and the start of your day.

All her life, she has written it off as nothing other than illusions, nothing other than the soft heart of her sister lingering in a world of dreams.

Now, she isn’t so sure they are dreams. Now, she isn’t so sure she doesn’t know Ivar, now she isn’t so sure he is crazy.

The man towers over her, but strangely enough, Katia doesn’t feel fear.

All she feels is anger. All she feels is rage and hate.

And a part of her feels strangely vindicated at the lost look in his eyes, like someone she never was -or someone she never stopped being- is cruelly delighted at his pain.

“You are Freydis,” He tells her, and she keeps careful eyes on him but says nothing, “You’re playing games with me, y-you’ve cursed me.”

“Cursed you?” She asks, the beginning of a smile on her lips. To anyone else, she might look like a woman that has lost her mind, but, to him, she dares think, she looks like a woman powerful, a woman he’d wage war against. “I would think I’d have a reason to curse you. Tell me…did I?”

There’s something there, something human in all the rage of a monster, something like pain, like grief. But the man doesn’t allow it to linger for long, and the pain morphs into wrath before her eyes.

“You took everything from me.” He snarls, rough hand grabbing Katia’s arm and forcing her closer. His eyes are piercing and wrathful as they look into hers.

“What is going on here?” You call out from behind her. And the man’s eyes leave her to focus on you as you approach. His hand drops from her arm, and Katia holds her breath.

Pale blue eyes shine as your soft footsteps approach, and as the man’s expression trembles with something like pain, something like hope, something like love; Katia finds herself afraid to turn around and find a woman she doesn’t recognize in her sister’s place.

She notices the change in him at the sight of you, and for the first time she feels fear.

And she waits now, with baited breath, for you to shake off the veil of dreams, the chimera of something that never was, that never would be.

But you don’t. You continue trailing soft and delicate fingers through her long hair, as if you aren’t making dread and fear poison her from the inside with each passing breath of silence.

“Blonde?” She asks, and her voice trembles, but she doesn’t care.

“Mhm,” You mumble, not really paying attention. After a moment, you take a breath and start again, “Ivar’s eyes were very blue today, di-…”

“His name isn’t Ivar. You should know that by now.”

“That’s what he said his name is.” You insist, but there’s a strange stillness to the way you hold yourself now, when she turns to meet your gaze.

“And he says my name is different too, do you believe him?”

“You aren’t Freydis,” You chuckle, saying the name that haunts Katia’s dreams with terrifying ease. And it feels familiar, coming from your lips. As familiar as the curve of your smile, as familiar as the way you look at that monster that pretends to be a man. You reach with your hand to put a lock of dark hair behind her ear, and offer a soft smile, “Your hair is different.”

She asks what she hasn’t dared ask in a whole life at your side, “W-What else is different?”

“Everything is, and…nothing is,” Your eyes are dazed, and though you are looking directly at her Katia would swear you cannot see her. “You’re my sister, and you love me. That hasn’t changed.”

She doesn’t quite understand why a part of her sighs in relief at hearing you admit you know -knew?- of her love for you, but she does understand why a part of her tightens in fear at the implications that swim in her mind.

And she voices another question, “And what he is to you, has that changed?”

She doesn’t say his name, maybe because she doesn’t know which one to utter.

You smile, and your eyes focus a bit on her, see more of her, “That could never change.”

Her eyes fall from yours, for she cannot keep looking into a familiar hue and see familiar warmth.

She feels you lean forward and press your brow against hers, a gesture of comfort that only makes her shut her eyes tight and bite back a sob.

“Alll our Fates are woven together,” You promise, a death sentence as you grasp your sister’s hand. “We may forget, but those who weave our Fates cannot.”

Come morning, you won’t remember the previous night; come morning Ivar’s eyes will be less blue; come morning, his pain won’t make the memories return to you like strings that tighten and tell you he needs you, or who you once were.

Come morning, you won’t remember. But Katia will.

And she will vow to do whatever it takes not to lose you to him.

____ ____ ____

Thank you for reading! Hope I could catch your interest! The first chapter will be up between Tuesday and Wednesday :)

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @1950schick @ietss @peachyboneless @encounterthepast @maggiescarborough @fae-sedai @zuxiezendler @crazybunnyladysworld​ @stupiddarkkside​  @northumbria​  @aprilivar​  

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar #Those who weave masterlist

[kuiinncedes]

relight that spark

jatp au - chapter 1 - part 2/15? - 9,385 words

the prologue/part 1 (tumblr link) if you missed it!! (ao3 link) :D

so obviously this is pretty slowly updating already and it probably willll get worse 🤪 i might post the next part in like a week tho, it's not a full "episode" chapter and i already have it fully written and i'm pretty happy with it 😗✌️

this chapter is pretty long and i apologize for that bc i know i get annoyed when i have to stop in the middle of a long chapter and then my phone like loses my spot or whatever lakdshgjfs but idk how else to do it so .. just have my apology lol sorryyy <3 the next "episode" chapter is looking to be longer tho sdlkhglsj

LASTLY BUT NOT LEASTLY A HUGE MASSIVE FUCKING THANK YOU TO MEG @neversatisfiedwithlife FOR BETA READING THIS FOR MEEEE AND BEING SO SUPPORTIVE AND WONDERFUL LOVE YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU SM 💞💖💓💗💕

chapter title and lyrics in this part from "wake up" from the julie and the phantoms soundtrack (whichhh if you haven't heard it... you should listen to it after reading maybe 👀)

plot and a lot of the dialogue from julie and the phantoms so like credit to all those creators and writers 🤪

warnings for this chapter: grief, mentioned character death (regarding kurt's mom)

read below the cut or here on ao3!! <3

--

2020

There’s a deep-seated weight of dread in Kurt’s stomach that he’s unable to ignore for the entire morning.

His last chance at the music program -- he needs to play again today, for the first time in over a year, or he’s done.

It’s all he can think about all day. He makes it through his first few classes, somehow, walking through the halls almost mindlessly, thoughts far away and only worrying about what he’s going to do, barely paying attention to who he’s almost running into, because he doesn’t know what he’s going to do.

It almost feels like last year again, when school started and everyone knew and everyone was staring at him in the hallways, even though he knows that they’re not right now and he knows most of these people couldn’t care less about him not being able to play at this point, but in his head it feels like they all know, like they’re all waiting, waiting and watching for him to play again and sing again.

He has been, too, for over a year.

He stops at his locker to wait for Mercedes before going to class.

“We’re gonna get tattoos together,” comes her familiar voice out of nowhere.

Involuntarily, Kurt smiles a little, turning to Mercedes. “Umm…?”

She shrugs and smiles back at him. “You know, when we’re adults and out in New York together or something. Just -- you know, at some point.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow, silently saying, where the hell did this come from. Mercedes raises both of hers as if to say, answer the question. “Just curious,” she adds out loud. “Could start planning them now.”

He chuckles. “Of course. I’ll get all the matching tattoos with you.”

Grins and silent agreement pass between them and they both turn toward the lockers, a welcome break in the slowest part of the day, the voices and noises of other students filling the air.

“I know you don’t want me to ask, but…” Mercedes starts slowly after a moment, and Kurt nods his head in acknowledgement; he knows what she’s going to say. “Do you know what you’re going to do today?”

He puts some books in his backpack, mainly for something to do. “I’ll know in the moment,” he says, somewhat truthfully. He could just say what he thinks will happen, which is nothing. But Mercedes can see right through him anyway, so might as well stay somewhat positive until it happens. Or rather, doesn’t happen.

Mercedes sighs a little. “Mrs. Harrison said today is your last chance,” she tries, leaning on her side against the lockers.

“I know, I was there,” Kurt says lightly, letting his eyes scan the contents of his locker a tenth time. Mercedes reaches over and squeezes his hand lightly. Her eyes tell him that she’ll stop talking about it for now, and he squeezes back gratefully.

The conversation with Mercedes has really helped, though; it always does. If he’s going to spectacularly embarrass himself in front of his music class, and probably for the last time, at least he’ll have Mercedes there.

She sees it in his smile, and she sends it back. You always will, is her silent whisper.

A sharp, cheery voice pierces the air and makes them both turn their heads, and the uplifted mood from the conversation with Mercedes disappears when Kurt sees none other than Quinn Fabray, in her Cheerios! uniform, complete with a tight ponytail and perfect smile as she hands out what appears to be flyers to passing students, who are immediately won over by her status, closeness, sweetness. Finn Hudson lingers behind her with his guitar case and his own stack of flyers that he’s not handing out nearly as enthusiastically.

“Spirit rally Friday!” Quinn’s saying as she all but shoves another flyer into the face of a nervous freshman who takes it and scurries away, doing a double-take once they pass her. “Come see the Cheerios! do their new routine, and my group, the Unholy Trinity, perform our brand new original song!”

“What’s she handing out?” Kurt whispers to Mercedes. A corner of his lip quirks up despite the general unpleasantness of seeing Quinn.

“Desperation?” she answers with a small smirk. When Kurt turns back, Quinn is in front of him. He holds back a grimace at her fake smile and cheeriness.

“Hey, guys!” she chirps, as if they’re just any two other students at this school. “Here you go, my group’s performing at the spirit assembly on Friday!”

Kurt flinches back a little as a flyer appears much too close to his face and he takes it instinctively, holding it lightly in his fingertips. It truly looks like something Quinn designed -- perfectly professional, impressive, eye-catching -- and he can’t say it looks bad, as much as he might want to. He eyes Quinn over the top of the flyer.

“I’m sure you guys have nothing better to do,” Quinn continues, that smile still on her face, and there are the claws, Kurt thinks as he resists the urge to rip up the flyer right in front of her.

“Oh, my gosh, Quinn, thank you!” Mercedes says in an exaggeratedly sweet voice, clearly -- or at least clearly to Kurt, and likely Quinn as well -- imitating the specific tone of voice that Quinn takes, and Kurt stifles a laugh.

“Oh my gosh, Cedes, don’t bother coming!” Quinn says with a wide smile, turning away with a whip of her ponytail to continue pushing her flyers.

Kurt looks back at Mercedes, mumbling, “She did not just call you Cedes,” while Mercedes crumples up the flyer in her hands.

“Well, she did,” Mercedes says. Kurt can see the anger behind her eyes and he raises a concerned eyebrow. “I’m fine. She just… you know.” She dismisses his silent question.

“Yeah.” He loops his arm through Mercedes’ and they head down the hallway, almost running into Finn not three steps from Kurt’s locker.

“Oh, hey, sorry guys!” he says with a sheepish but genuine smile that contains all the warmth missing from Quinn’s. “Did you -- I guess Quinn already got -- ”

“Yep, she got to us,” Cedes says quickly, steering Kurt around Finn. “Thanks, Finn, bye!”

“Please tell me you are over him,” Mercedes says when they’re in a quieter area at the end of the row of lockers. Kurt realizes he’s staring and quickly looks away.

“Yeah, I am.” Mercedes looks at him skeptically and he insists, “I am, promise! You just… don’t find a nice jock like him around here that much.”

She nods, satisfied, and raises her eyebrows meaningfully. “You know they’re going to get married and have a bunch of demon babies.”

Kurt’s jaw drops open slightly and he laughs. “You can’t say Finn isn’t a sweetheart.”

“Only one of them has to be a demon to make a demon baby,” Mercedes says matter-of-factly.

“What… it’s a dominant gene?”

“Of course.” Mercedes turns back toward Quinn and raises her voice. “Demon!”

The two of them push against the wall, hiding behind the end of the lockers, when Quinn snaps her gaze back. Kurt can’t hold his laughs in this time, and he feels a little bad about it, but… considering what Quinn’s done to them, he can let himself and Cedes get away with it.

“There’s that smile,” Mercedes says gently as they gather themselves. “Now let’s go prove everybody wrong.” She pulls him toward the music room and slowly but surely, the sickening feeling in his stomach returns. He sits down next to Mercedes and just breathes. She squeezes his hand again.

Mrs. Harrison starts class soon after they arrive, getting into the last of the progress performances which are both a chance for the students to show off to their classmates, and also a checkpoint for participation in the music program, which is the part Kurt’s concerned about.

He barely hears as Finn finishes his drum solo and everyone claps and then Mrs. Harrison is calling his name and he’s standing and walking to the piano and oh god.

“Take your time,” Mrs. Harrison says gently.

That’s all he’s been doing for almost a year, just taking his time, but nothing has come of it. He sits down slowly, opening his music in front of him but it’s like his eyes don’t see the notes and just gloss over the page. He looks down at the keys, sets his fingers in place reluctantly.

It’s been so long that the keys almost feel foreign under his fingers when they once were the most familiar thing in the world. It’s been so long that he barely remembers how the song should go and why did he think he could just do this, it doesn’t matter how good at sightreading he’s always been. It’s been so long of him locking the memories in a chained and padlocked safe in the back of his mind and he’s terrified of playing again being what opens it because playing and singing and music has always always meant Mom, and she’s gone which he still sometimes forgets and it always hurts like hell to remember again, so letting himself remember so much more will only make reality that much worse. It’s been so long and what if he’s forgotten, what if he opens himself to the memories just to find that they don’t exist anymore?

It’s been so long; it’s been over a year, but doesn’t that mean he should be fine by now?

He knows avoiding the memories hasn’t been the best idea, but right now he can’t think of anything he could have done differently, can’t linger and regret his choices because he feels so vulnerable and exposed finally sitting at the piano in front of his whole class for the first time in a year, and the choice is right there and maybe he could do it but not in front of everyone his brain screams, and he can almost feel Quinn’s sharp, judging, so far from friendly gaze fixed on him and that is what breaks it, that is something he definitely can’t take and he pulls his hands back with a short inhale and the whirlwind in his mind stops and he can mostly breathe again.

It’s been so long.

Heart still pounding, he gets up and apologizes to Mrs. Harrison because she really has tried to help him and he appreciates it but he still can’t, and Quinn makes some comment and Mercedes fires something back but he doesn’t hear any of it, he just has to leave.

He knows Mercedes follows him out and she calls out his name when he’s halfway down the stairs. He’s started crying at some point and he doesn’t know when. All of it is just such a mess and so present in his mind; he was so close to music again, to Mom, but he’s not ready. He’s scared.

“Kurt,” Cedes calls again, quieter, her voice soft and choked, pleading. “Come on, please. Come back… and show them you can sing .”

He turns to look at her at the top of the stairs. “I can’t,” he says, voice rough with tears. “I’ve tried, for over a year I’ve tried…. I’ve tried for Dad, I’ve tried for Mrs. Harrison, fuck, I’ve even tried for Quinn.” He gives a short, bitter laugh as more tears spill down his cheeks.

“I’ve tried so hard for you.” He gestures up to her, voice breaking. “I’ve tried for Mom.” He closes his eyes for a moment, takes a breath. “And I’ve tried for myself.” Mercedes is also crying a little now.

“For over a year, I’ve tried,” Kurt continues weakly. “But I just -- I can’t. Not… not now.”

He runs down the rest of the stairs and out the door, and he knows he just got himself kicked out of music, knows he just ruined everything.

--

From mercedes 💖, 2:04 pm:

Are you leaving?

From mercedes 💖, 2:06

Tell me when you get home. I love you

To mercedes 💖, 2:08 pm:

i will, at the park for now

From mercedes 💖, 2:10 pm:

I’ll bring your stuff around later.

To mercedes 💖, 2:10 pm:

thank you

To mercedes 💖, 2:11 pm:

i love you. i’m sorry

From mercedes 💖, 2:12 pm:

Nothing to be sorry for, just take care of yourself okay?

From mercedes 💖, 2:13 pm:

Give yourself a hug from me until I get there to do it for you

--

“Hey, kiddo, how was your day?” Burt asks as he walks in, putting a hand on Kurt’s shoulder who’s doing homework at the kitchen table.

“It was okay,” Kurt responds with a small but hopefully convincing smile to hide the worry eating away at him inside, because if the school’s already contacted his dad about today, about Kurt ruining his last chance…

“I gotta go again in a bit,” Burt says, taking a drink of water. “Some guy really needs a car fix by tomorrow morning, but I’ll be done by dinner.” Kurt nods, some relief flooding his veins. He turns back to his homework.

“Oh, another thing,” Burt says and Kurt stiffens again. “I wanted to come and check in with you -- I talked to a real estate agent today, and they said if we’re serious about selling the house, we need to take some pictures and stuff, clean everything… and I was wondering if you’re up for cleaning Mom’s studio?”

Kurt’s immediate surprise and hesitance must show on his face even as he tries to keep his composure, because Burt quickly assures, “It’s okay if you’re not ready, I promise; we have time. You know I just -- I wouldn’t even know where to start in there.”

Kurt smiles a little. “No, it’s okay,” he says. “I can try tonight.”

“Awesome.” Burt ruffles Kurt’s hair, which from anyone else other than maybe Mercedes would not end particularly well, but Kurt just laughs and tries to brush the loose strands out of his eyes. “I’ll see you later, Kurt. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Dad.”

Kurt exhales slowly as his dad leaves again.

Cleaning out the studio means having to confront exactly what he’s tried to avoid for a year. The disaster that was music class today doesn’t make him feel better about it… but at least this time he’ll be alone -- none of the pressure of having to live up to the standards of well-meaning teachers or aggressive ex-best friends, none of the pressure of having to play at all, especially from the competitive nature at school. And… maybe he needs it.

Moving from here will only help you move on. Kurt’s aunt’s words echo in his mind. A part of him recoils at the idea of leaving his childhood home -- leaving the spaces his mom used to inhabit and her light and energy used to fill to the brim -- and starting over, someplace where there are none of those memories… he can’t tell if that’s a good thing. It feels like more of the running away that he’s been doing for a year, and he wonders if it really will solve anything.

But maybe he does need it. If staying in this house for the last year hasn’t helped, a change would be good, right?

Turning back to his work, he takes a deep breath and starts planning dinner in his head. He’ll tackle the studio after dinner’s ready.

--

To Dad, 7:39 pm:

dinner’s done, i’ll be in the studio

Kurt takes a slow breath as he opens the doors to the garage.

It’s not that it’s his first time in the studio after his mom died -- someone had to water the plants -- but he kept any interaction with the rest of the room minimal, so it still feels different to take in the full space instead of just rushing to the plants in the back with his head down. It always came with some guilt; it felt like the least he could do to keep some life in the studio when he could barely even bring himself to enter, let alone fill it with music as it needs to be.

He walks in slowly, some apprehension tickling the back of his neck, trying to stay calm. The familiarity is almost overwhelming this time as he looks around, actually taking in the room. The guitars on the wall, the couch and table, all of his mom’s decorations and knick-knacks. The chairs on the ceiling, story told with a fond smile from his dad about his mom wanting to decorate in a fun special way even while 7 months pregnant. The plants in the back, flourishing in front of the wall of windows positioned to let in the sunrise beautifully, not that Kurt has seen it happen recently.

And the grand piano -- in the center of the room, covered with a sheet, neglected for over a year. Kurt pulls it off now absentmindedly, letting the fabric pool over his feet. He takes a deep breath even though he probably just filled the air with dust, and goes over to the bench. He doesn’t open the lid, not yet. Some sheet music is on the seat and he places it on the piano without looking, sits down and gently touches the fallboard, inhaling shakily, not opening it to reveal the keys but just… remembering what it used to be, what it used to -- still means….

“I’m so sorry, Mom,” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut, “that I haven’t been here.”

With his eyes closed against the dark emptiness of the room, he can almost forget. It’s too easy to think that when he opens his eyes, his mom will be there, and she’ll be writing a song with him, or she’ll be playing, or they’ll just be talking…

Before the idea can flood his mind and leave him reeling when he returns to reality, Kurt stands and looks around the room again. There really is a strangeness to the place now. What used to be so comfortable and an extension of home -- sometimes even more home than the main house -- was always warm and brimming with emotion and joy and music and life -- now cold and dark and hollow, quiet. The familiar bones have an unsettling foreign emptiness around them. It feels wrong.

It needs to be filled. But… Kurt can’t do that.

He misses his mom -- always, but it’s amplified in this space that was always hers. He misses the feeling that the studio used to bring, that spirit that is now dimmed and suppressed. Covered, but still there. He can feel it like a gentle heat behind his skin. Not bad, but overwhelming, and he just….

The loft, Kurt decides suddenly. He’ll start with the loft. There aren’t memories and emotions so confusing and thick there that he’s barely able to avoid it, to push his way through with no energy left to untangle and understand. The loft is just full of random old stuff that his mom wouldn’t throw out and his dad teased her about.

So the loft first. And then he can ease into the rest when he’s more ready. After all, his dad did say they have time.

It’s significantly dustier in the loft; old instruments and random bags full of clothes are scattered and piled across the floor, his own electric keyboard propped up against the wall. Kurt stands on the stepladder a few steps below the actual loft floor, looks around a little, his eyes landing on a CD case lying on the ground -- black with a simple stark white word design: Sunset Curve. He picks it up, eyeing it thoughtfully, brings it back down to the main floor and decides to put it into the old CD player.

He doesn’t really know why he has such an urge all of a sudden. He’s listened to some music, but not nearly as much as before, and has actually chosen to listen to music only a handful of times since his mom died.

But… the studio needs music. As an apology for a year of neglect, and as a goodbye, he can let this music redeem the studio’s spirit a little, fill what he’s left hollow.

And he doesn’t want to be alone in the silence with his memories while he’s going through everything, even just in the loft. As something completely unfamiliar and random, this can give him the distraction and none of the pain. At least, that’s the plan.

Stepping down from the loft stairs, he glances at the picture in the CD case as he opens it -- a band of four who all look like teenagers, staring seriously into the camera -- he doesn’t get a good look at them, just slides the disc into the CD player and takes a seat on the couch.

The opening song starts strong with a gritty guitar riff and a 1, 2, 3! counting the band in. Despite himself, Kurt starts nodding along to the beat. It really is a great song, unique and upbeat…

Then some kind of… panicked screaming makes itself heard, first quietly and he thinks it could be part of the song, but it crescendos and gets unbearably loud --

And then there are three strangers appearing out of thin air before his eyes, screaming as they fall to the ground heavily. Kurt would wince at the sound of the impact --

That part’s certainly unlike any CD he’s listened to before.

He’s frozen, heart hammering and eyes widening as he stares at the three strangers picking themselves up off the ground, taking in their surroundings a little…

“How’d we get back here?” the middle one -- a shorter guy with black hair -- says breathlessly.

Kurt screams.

--

It’s not his finest moment, but three complete strangers just appeared in his mom’s studio, seemingly just popping into the air, and he can’t say he’s never been superstitious in his entire life or that he isn’t drawing immediate conclusions -- supernatural conclusions, fucking ridiculous conclusions. He doesn’t love that he runs into his dad on his way back into the house which may have also involved a little yelling about seeing ghosts (ghosts who screamed back, for the record), but he makes it to the safety of his room and texts Mercedes frantically, who doesn’t respond.

“Come on, Cedes,” he hisses to himself, shooting off another text. “Answer me!”

A knock from his doorway startles him and he just barely manages to hold back a shout, turning to see his dad leaning into his room hesitantly.

“You okay?”

Kurt gives him what must be a hysterical-looking attempt at a reassuring smile, all wide eyes and clenched teeth. “Yeah, no, totally fine, sorry for -- scaring you,” he replies choppily, tone not even convincing to himself. “Just, um, practicing for a school play.”

Burt definitely doesn’t believe him, but nods slowly anyway. “Well, I’m gonna go clean up -- ” He gestures over his shoulder with a grease-covered hand. “Dinner in like, ten minutes?”

“Yeah. Sounds good,” Kurt says shortly, forcing another smile and a thumbs-up.

As soon as the door closes, Kurt turns back toward his window and tries to get a glance of the studio, but it’s blocked from this angle by the trees in their yard. Apprehensively, he heads back to the garage, thankfully not running into his dad this time, phone in hand and thumb hovering over Mercedes’ phone contact.

When he goes in, it’s empty; no sign of anything out of the ordinary happening.

He scans the space warily, feeling jumpy and nervous, but nothing happens and he mumbles, “I know I saw something, I’m not crazy.”

He hears a soft popping noise and then, “Well, we’re all a little crazy,” from behind him and he turns with a sharp gasp.

“Oh, my god, who are you?” Kurt yells, maybe a little too loud because the black-haired boy winces slightly and all three of them step back a little. “What the hell are you doing in my mom’s studio?”

“Your mom’s studio?” the black-haired guy scoffs. “This is our studio!”

The tall blonde guy bounces forward. ���Yeah, like, the piano’s new, but -- ” He looks to the right and his face lights up. “My couch!” he calls, running over and jumping straight onto it.

The girl -- hair black and in braids -- rolls her eyes. “Not your couch, Sam.”

The blonde -- Sam? -- sits up indignantly, stabbing a finger in the cushions. “Hey, I spent more time on this couch than any of you. Pretty sure it’s mine at this point.”

Kurt just watches them with wide eyes, jaw hanging open, with absolutely no idea what to do.

“But these aren’t our instruments,” the black-haired guy says warily, looking around. At some point he and the girl have linked arms, Kurt notices. He watches as they all take in the studio, faces getting increasingly confused and worried. Kurt raises an eyebrow that apparently can go higher than it already is.

“Because… it’s my mom’s studio…” he manages to say again, mind still whirling at the hurricane of new and completely nonsensical information.

“Can you just -- give us a minute?” Sam says, jumping over the coffee table to join his friends. They turn away to talk in a huddle, and Kurt stands awkwardly as they talk in failed attempts at hushed tones.

--

Tina’s trying to ignore the pounding of her possibly-only-theoretical heart -- she’s dead, how can she even feel a heartbeat -- as she watches Blaine and Sam talk to the… living person in front of them. Sam makes his usual comment about “his couch” and Tina snarks back with her usual response and it gives her some comfort, some familiarity even in this studio which should feel like home, has for so long, and it still does to an extent, but everything here is suddenly different.

The comment does send the strange boy’s attention back to her, though, which she doesn’t really like. Blaine wraps an arm around hers and she squeezes his forearm in gratitude. He did that a lot when they were alive -- knew how and when to offer her his touch to reassure her a little.

At least there’s something that’s still the same.

At least her boys are still the same.

She tries to focus on Blaine’s arm in hers, on Sam’s dumb comments as he comes bounding back to them, hissing, “Guys, what is going on here?”

Tina shrugs. Blaine whispers, “Who is he?”

“He can hear you,” the person in question says pointedly from behind them, but Sam ignores him and says, “Maybe he’s a witch.” He looks up, pointing. “There are chairs on the ceiling.”

“There’s no such thing as witches,” Tina hisses.

“Are you sure?” Sam shoots back. “Because I used to think there was no such thing as ghosts!”

Tina swallows. “That’s fair.”

“So we’re going with witch?” Blaine asks.

“No!” Tina waves her hands at both of them. “No, come on. You guys are just -- he’s probably just overwhelmed, okay? Let someone with a softer touch handle this.”

Maybe “softer touch” wasn’t the right phrase to use in this instance, she thinks, but she really just wants answers and figures she might as well be straightforward. “Why are you in our studio?” she asks, maybe a little too aggressively, stepping up to the alive stranger.

He looks down with a shocked expression and Tina realizes she accidentally got close enough to touch him -- or… pass her hand through his, partially. They both watch as he brings his hand through hers again. It’s a weird feeling -- warm and kind of tingly, or like she’s putting her hand through water.

“Oh my god,” he says, eyes wide. “How did you do that?”

Tina raises their eyebrows a little. “Okay, clearly you don’t -- clearly, he doesn’t get it,” she says, addressing the guys behind her. She turns back to the stranger, gesturing to herself and the others as she explains, “We’re ghosts. We’re just three ghosts, and we’re really happy to be home, so… thank you for the flowers; they really brighten up the room.” She tries to smile at him.

“We’re actually in a band called Sunset Curve,” Blaine pipes up, stepping up to flank her on the left.

“Tell your friends!” chimes Sam on her right.

“Last night was a really big night for us,” Blaine says, a little sadly. “It was gonna change our lives.”

Tina whispers, “Uh, I’m pretty sure it did.” Blaine huffs and elbows her gently.

“This is freaking me out,” the stranger says, shaking his head as he takes something from his pocket.

“What is that; what are you doing?” Blaine asks.

Alive Stranger looks up, fingers still touching the face of the object. “It’s my phone -- nope, stop talking to them! There’s no such thing as cute ghosts,” he says, seemingly to himself.

Sam gasps. “Think we’re cute?” He raises an eyebrow, making one of his insufferable Sam faces; Tina almost laughs.

The boy looks up again with wide eyes, gaze flitting to each of them as if watching for a reaction, swallowing and going back to his phone.

“Who’re you calling?” Tina asks, trying to see the side facing him because that doesn’t look like any phone she’s ever seen.

“I’m googling Sunset Swerve.”

“Sunset Curve!” Blaine, Sam, and Tina correct him at the same time, Sam drawing a curve in the air with his finger.

The stranger laughs nervously, staring at them with wide eyes and then back at his phone. “Okay… so there is a Sunset Curve.” He swallows again. “You guys did die. But not last night.” Tina’s stomach drops a little; Blaine and Sam get closer.

“Twenty-five… years ago,” the boy finishes, a confused look in his eyes.

Tina barely has time to register this before Sam says, “That’s impossible. All we did after we floated out of the car was go to that weird dark room where Tina cried.”

Her mouth drops open. “I wasn’t -- I -- we -- ” she squeaks, voice jumping up an octave. “I think we were all pretty upset,” she says, but she supposes Sam is right.

He pats her back and doesn’t have a chance to respond again because Blaine steps in, “That was just for, like, an hour, though. We just showed up here.” Tina and Sam nod.

“Look,” the living one says, finally turning his “phone” toward them. They lean forward to see a screen with a photo of them -- and Artie, Tina thinks distantly; she feels his absence acutely and it spikes through her chest -- taken for their summer tour, and a bunch of small text around it that she can’t read, a bold headline at the top reading, Sunset Curve: A Hollywood Tragedy. “I’m just telling you what my phone says,” he explains. “You guys died in 1995. It’s now 2020.”

“So this is the future?” Sam asks incredulously as the boy pulls his phone back. Something else sticks out in Tina’s mind, though.

“So -- it has been twenty-five years,” she says, pausing to gather her thoughts. “I have been crying for twenty-five years -- how is that possible?!”

“You’re a very emotional person,” Sam reasons.

“I am not!” she insists, but the tears already pressing in the back of her throat want to prove otherwise. Distantly, she reminds herself that she’s with her friends who’ve seen it all and she doesn’t need to hold back, but the presence of this complete stranger also overrides the ease of her relationship with the guys. Sam rubs a comforting hand over her shoulder, and she swallows the tears down.

Alive Stranger shakes his head. “I gotta go… eat dinner,” he says slowly. He turns back around once he’s walked past the three of them and says, “Look, I’m really sorry for what happened to you guys, but this isn’t your studio anymore. You have to leave.”

“But we -- ” Blaine starts, starting to go forward but a sharp glare stops him and he clears his throat. “We didn’t even get your name.”

“It’s Kurt,” the stranger snaps.

“Cool, I’m -- Blaine,” Blaine says hesitantly. “And this is…”

“Sam, hey.”

“Tina, how’s it going…”

“Ba-da,” Blaine sings weakly, gesturing his hands in front of them like he’s presenting them to Kurt.

They all watch for Kurt’s reaction, but he just sighs and leaves the studio. He leaves the doors open, probably to remind them that they technically just got kicked out of their studio -- or, Kurt’s mom’s studio -- someone’s studio, but really it’s been their home for so long…

“Kurt seems nice,” Sam says cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood.

Tina turns to him. “Did you miss the part where he kicked us out, or…” she says drily. Sam shrugs, a hint of a smirk on his face. “Okay,” Tina mutters, turning to wander around the studio some more. If they’re going to be kicked out, she wants to spend as much more time as she can here.

--

Kurt’s mind is a storm. He doesn’t know where to start with this new information -- with an evening that took such a sharp turn from reminiscing and sad and somewhat painful into just… something so completely different and unexpected.

Dinner Kurt can do. He can put the craziness of ghosts aside because dinner is easy, dinner is simple; dinner is important.

His dad has already set everything out so Kurt takes his seat across from him, sending a not-completely-true nvm everything’s fine, sorry for worrying you text to Mercedes, who finally got back to him at some point when he was distracted…

Distracted talking to ghosts.

“How’s it going?” Burt asks as he sits down and it takes Kurt a second to remember he must be talking about cleaning the studio, and not actually about ghost musicians.

Ghosts don’t exist. There are no ghosts in the garage. Don’t think about ghosts.

“It’s good,” Kurt says, poking at his food a little. “I’m starting with the loft.”

Burt smiles. “Those old instruments need a home.”

“Yeah,” Kurt says, returning the smile. “Mom would like that.”

The instruments probably belong to some ghosts, Kurt realizes, but… nothing he can really do about that. And that’s if the ghosts can even touch objects.

They eat in comfortable silence for a while and then Burt sets down his fork. Kurt looks up apprehensively.

“So I got an email from the school today,” he starts. Kurt fiddles with his fork and drops his gaze.

“Hey, it’s okay, Kurt, I’m not mad,” Burt promises.

You should be, Kurt thinks -- all that money spent for him to audition for and attend the music program, and for private lessons and sheet music and piano maintenance, just for him to throw it all away.

“I know those classes can be hard,” his dad says, and Kurt almost can’t take his gentle tone, feels guilty about it even though he appreciates it. “But… you still like music, don’t you?”

Kurt shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe?”

“I know the memories are hard, believe me, Kurt. But, every time I see you, I see Mom, you know? And I love that, I really do. Maybe, if you give yourself a chance, you can, too.” Kurt looks up hesitantly to see his dad’s gentle, loving expression and eyes slightly glassy with tears. Looking down again, he swallows, and nods.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I will. I’ll try.”

Because what he said to Mercedes earlier on the staircase is true, but… he’ll always try harder for his dad.

“It’s okay, Kurt,” Burt assures him. “We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

Kurt smiles and almost starts eating again, but music suddenly blares from outside, startling both of them, Kurt barely holding back a loud swear.

“What is that?” Burt says, getting up but Kurt rushes to reassure him, saying quickly, “I must have just left the CD player on in the garage! It’s fine, I’ll go get it!”

He runs back to the studio where the ghosts are still there apparently, and have somehow gotten instruments from the loft and set everything up to start playing, and play really loudly -- and it honestly sounds good but Kurt can’t focus on that because they’re going to disturb the entire neighborhood and get the cops called on them for a noise complaint and what is he supposed to say -- no officer, it was just the three ghosts in the garage being idiots, sorry?

Kurt yells for them to stop but it’s useless; he can barely even hear himself over how incredibly loudly they’re playing. Blaine, on an electric guitar that Kurt remembers seeing in the loft, turns and sees Kurt, walking towards him and finally playing one last chord when Kurt makes a horizontal cutting motion with his hand, and Sam, on the bass, follows, Tina playing one last short drum roll, looking up with a wide grin.

They all look… alive, Kurt thinks, despite literally being dead, so different from the confusion he left them with -- relaxed and loose and faces lit up, the energy flowing through them almost visible. If he didn’t know they were ghosts and made of air, he’d expect to be able to reach out and feel them, breaths hot and fast from the exertion and adrenaline, skin warm and slightly sweaty, hearts beating strong like the steady percussion of their band.

It reminds him of how music used to make him feel.

“Cut it out!” Kurt snaps, trying not to raise his voice too much. “The whole neighborhood could hear you! I thought I told you to leave!”

Blaine looks back at his bandmates, bewildered. “People -- people can hear us play?”

“Yes!” Kurt says exasperatedly. “My dad heard you from inside!”

“… What did he think?” Blaine asks after a moment. Kurt opens his mouth for an irritated response --

“Everything okay in here?”

Kurt whips around to see his dad in the doorway and smiles with wide eyes. “Yeah! I just -- had to turn off the CD player,” he lies.

People have told Kurt before that he’s a good liar; he really hopes that’s true after the evening he’s had -- he's having.

Burt’s attention is elsewhere, though, seemingly forgetting about the chaos from just a moment earlier. “Wait, is this the junk that was in the loft?” he says, excitedly eyeing the instruments and… the ghosts that he can’t see.

“Junk?” Blaine exclaims. Tina stands up, her eyes on Burt, drumsticks gripped tightly in one hand.

They all watch apprehensively as Burt weaves through the instruments, even going so far as to rattle Tina’s cymbals and tap the drums, much to her horror. She fixes Kurt with wide, urgent eyes, to which Kurt just shrugs and gives her a helpless look. Hey Dad, actually, the ghost drummer wants you to stop, so…

“Hey, this stuff’s in pretty good shape,” Burt says excitedly. “Maybe we can make a couple bucks, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Kurt agrees weakly, mostly just watching as Tina fails to push Burt away from the drums.

“I like the song you had on,” Burt says, finally stepping away from the instruments. Tina rubs down a cymbal with her sleeve.

“Sweet! We’re Sunset Curve,” Blaine pipes up.

“Tell your friends!” Sam says, to a fond eye-roll from Tina.

“It’s just an old CD I found,” Kurt says, ripping his attention from the ghosts.

“Well, it’s nice that you’re listening to music again,” Burt says sincerely. “Out here, you can play whatever you want, whenever you want.” He waves his hands out on either side for emphasis, going through Sam and Blaine’s bodies. Kurt chuckles weakly.

“Oh,” Sam says, looking down at where Burt’s hand was in his stomach just a moment before. “That’s nice.”

“Stay out of this,” Kurt hisses.

“Sorry, Kurt, I’m just trying to help -- ”

“Oh! No, not you, Dad,” Kurt says quickly. For fuck’s sake -- “Just -- just give me a minute -- ” He starts pulling his dad toward the door. Burt stops him and says, “Hey, we’re gonna figure out this music program thing, okay?”

“Thanks, Dad,” Kurt says with a smile, and gestures for him to leave.

Once Burt is out of sight, he turns back to the ghosts.

“Wait -- ” Tina waves her drumsticks around a little. “So -- only you can see us, but everyone can hear us?” Kurt nods in confirmation. “What kind of ghosts are we?” Tina says.

“Who cares, dude!” Sam says, stepping up to Tina’s drum kit with a grin. “People can hear us play!” The three exchange fist-bumps as Blaine says happily, “We might be dead, but our music isn’t.”

“And Kurt’s dad likes our music!” Sam cheers.

“He’s a dad, it doesn’t count,” Tina mumbles, smiling and pushing Sam playfully when he turns to her with an offended look.

Confusion and annoyance bubble up inside Kurt along with something like anger at, just, all of it and he groans and says loudly, “Why can’t you guys just be normal ghosts? You know, go hang out at an old mansion or something! I hear Pasadena’s nice!” and turns to leave, slamming the door on his way out.

He just… has had too much going on today. He needs to -- ignore his homework and the problem with school and maybe just sleep in for the next two days. That would be really nice.

He’s so caught up in his head and he jumps and yells when a ghost appears in front of him with no warning.

“Don’t do that!” Kurt exclaims.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Blaine says quickly. “ -- You do know how rad this is though, right? People -- people can hear us play!”

“Yeah, good for you,” Kurt replies, a little too harshly. “It’s just that I’ve had a really, really, awful day. I’ve gotta go.”

He walks past Blaine just to turn around again when he says, “I’m really sorry you had a bad day.” Kurt nods; he can tell Blaine wants to say more, so he waits.

Blaine continues slowly, “I just… three ghosts just found out they had a bad twenty-five years, and then they find out that the one thing they lived for in the first place, they can still do. So you can kick us out, but -- we’re not giving up music. We can play again; that’s a gift no musician would ever turn down,” he says earnestly, eyes wide and almost pleading.

That hurts in Kurt’s chest a little more than it should and he looks down again to avoid the passion and excitement shining clearly in Blaine’s eyes, in his voice, in his words. He swallows down the feeling that statement unearths inside of him, but suddenly his bad day is at the forefront of his mind again -- his bad year.

That’s a gift no musician would ever turn down … some musician he is, then. But he already knew that.

Blaine says softly, “You’ve gotta know that. Clearly your mom is into music.”

Kurt swallows. “Was,” he says, monotone and quiet. “She passed away.”

He hates that it’s become easier to say; he wants to either spit the words out or break down sobbing but he manages to keep his voice steady. (In the back of his mind, he wonders why he just told that to a random ghost he just met. Maybe he’s just going crazy. He’s literally talking to ghosts, after all.)

Blaine’s face falls. “I -- I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“Yeah, we -- we didn’t know,” Sam says quietly. He and Tina have also left the studio, standing on the other side of the low wall separating the garage area from the pathway back to the house. They look up with sympathetic eyes and Kurt looks away from them too -- can’t meet any of their wide, well-meaning gazes right now.

“It’s fine,” he dismisses. “Sorry I got mad.” The ghosts are thankfully looking at each other now, seemingly silent conversation passing between their glances. “You guys are pretty good,” Kurt says, trying to change the subject and lighten the atmosphere.

Blaine raises an eyebrow, turning his gaze back to Kurt. “‘Pretty good’? You know that’s just, like, 25 years of rust being dusted off, right?”

“Do you play, too?” Tina asks.

“No, no, I don’t play.” It’s not exactly a lie anymore but it scrapes in Kurt’s throat with his haste to answer. “That’s all my mom’s stuff in there.”

“She’s an amazing songwriter,” Blaine says.

“Yeah, she was,” Kurt answers. “Wait… how do you know?”

Blaine opens his mouth, glancing at the others for a second. “We found a song on the piano,” he says. “If it’s hers… your mom was really talented.”

Kurt nods. She really, really was.

He feels like he doesn’t have the energy to say it again, so he just stays quiet. Somewhat awkwardly, he turns to leave, sensing the end of the conversation and part of him desperately wanting to just leave and not have to see these ghosts again….

So Kurt surprises even himself when he pauses and turns back to face them. “I guess,” he starts, and their gazes snap back up to him. “If you need a place to stay… you can stay in there.” He nods toward the studio and the ghosts’ faces light up. Kurt can’t help but smile back. “There’s a couch that turns into a bed, and in the back there’s a bathroom with a shower, if you still need any of that stuff.”

“Awesome!” Sam exclaims quietly, earning an elbow in the side and a questioning look from Tina. “What? Dude, I just really like showers,” he defends.

Tina rolls her eyes. Kurt takes a breath, raising his hands to gesture vaguely at the three of them. “This is just… too weird.” He nods to himself, finally leaving this time, leaving the ghosts to… do what they will.

The fact that there are ghosts in his mom’s studio…. Maybe there’s a chance that Mom knows them -- sent them, he thinks… but decides to not get his hopes up. She’s gone and he needs to just keep it at that.

What he really wants is to tell Mercedes, but he doesn’t know how.

What would you say if I told you there were three ghosts living in my mom’s studio? Kurt thinks on his way back to his room.

You’d say I’m crazy.

--

It’s some point in the night; they figured out that they don’t need to sleep -- can’t sleep, it seems like, which is honestly really annoying in Tina’s opinion because they’re ghosts with literally nothing to do for too many hours at a time -- so they’re just hanging out in the studio, with the lights outside giving them a little visibility through the garage windows, but it’s kind of nice to just sit in the dark.

Tina has been on the couch with Sam, lying on their backs, heads in opposite directions, legs pressed up against each other. Sam’s bass is unplugged, laid on his stomach and extending over Tina’s legs. He plucks out notes and Tina accompanies with a soft beat using just her hands and body parts as instruments. Sometimes it’s a familiar bassline -- a Sunset Curve song rehearsed or performed or recorded before -- and they also hum the harmonies that they know, and sometimes they improvise -- Tina storing the good bits in her mind for a future writing session.

Blaine is in the loft where they hoped a light could be on and maybe go unnoticed. Tina assumes that he’s writing; he always was when they were alive. And of course, now he has 25 years of dark room and relative nothingness to catch up on writing about.

It feels like another quiet night from when they were alive, each of them with an excuse to escape their homes for the night, and they’d all crash here, filling the studio with soft music and noise. Blaine would stay up writing and sometimes singing while Sam and Tina (and Artie) would try to sleep, telling him to stop humming, or, since the main house inhabitants who would care about the noise were rarely there, they would sometimes join along with him and make it a Sunset Curve midnight rehearsal.

They’ve never had the best sleep schedules anyway.

Tina giggles quietly as she and Sam play into nothingness, both parts running uncontrolled and unable to get back on track. They both stop and Sam starts playing a familiar line -- parts they’d worked out before with bass, drums, and both guitars, but never actually put into a song. Tina waits for a moment to come in with her part.

She’s nearly startled off the couch when Blaine poofs down beside the couch with his guitar and starts his part. Tina starts laughing -- probably too loud but they’re pretty sure only their music can be heard anyway -- and slides off the couch to sit on the ground, picking the drumming back up on her legs.

“You guys wanna check out this teleportation thing?” Blaine asks, playing the challenging guitar riff meant for electric guitar messily on his acoustic without a pick.

Sam sits up and puts his bass to the side. “Absolutely,” he says. “Where’re we going?”

“I have an idea,” Blaine says, setting his guitar down. He pulls Tina up and extends a hand out for Sam. “I think I can take you guys with me.”

“What?” Tina squeaks, but a second later, she’s sitting far above the ground, outside, on top of the marquee of the Orpheum. “Oh my god,” she mutters, looking down dizzily at the people passing by on the sidewalk. Her body tingles with a weird uncomfortable energy for just a few seconds before it fades.

“Yes!” Blaine laughs, kicking his legs up excitedly. “I mean, I know being a ghost isn’t our first choice, but it sure is easy getting around!”

“Easy for you, maybe!” Sam cries on Blaine’s other side. “I lost my shirt on that one!”

Tina looks over and sure enough, Sam is shirtless. She stifles a laugh behind her hand. “Like that’s a concern,” she pipes up, but Sam’s shirt appears right as she says it. They all laugh and sit in silence for a moment.

“So why’d you bring us here?” Tina asks, looking out across Hollywood Boulevard, the new and old buildings and shops, the people and cars of the future. The light of the Orpheum’s neon sign shines in her periphery, same as it did on a night twenty-five years ago. “Just another reminder of where we never got to play,” she says wryly, turning to face Blaine on her left, patting his shoulder. “Thanks, Blaine.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “I’m telling you guys, it’s not over yet!” Tina reappears on the sidewalk right below them, almost losing her balance and falling through a person walking past. She shoots a glare at Blaine for teleporting them with no warning again, but he just grins back and starts down the sidewalk, Sam following. “Let’s see how many places we can play tonight, yeah? Check out the music scene of the future? And no trouble getting into those clubs anymore!”

Tina laughs, falling into step with them. She watches Sam walk straight through someone going in the opposite direction and doesn’t realize someone is in her way, which shouldn't be a problem, until she bumps into them.

She feels them.

“Hey!” she says involuntarily, turning to see who it was -- another ghost? A tall man with a cape and top hat nods at her with an acknowledging and almost menacing gleam in his eye, then turns again and walks away.

He could see her, he could touch her -- he has to be another ghost, right?

“Tina, you coming?” Sam calls. She swallows and takes one last look, the other ghost having disappeared among the other people on the sidewalk, before turning and running to catch back up with the guys.

“I just ran into someone,” she says, a little breathless -- she doesn’t know if that’s from running, which she doesn’t think she can actually get breathless from, or the fact that she ran into someone.

“Another ghost?” Blaine says.

“I mean, it has to be, right? Uh, Kurt -- Kurt can see us but he can’t touch us…”

“And his dad couldn’t either,” Sam adds.

“It must have been another ghost. He looked like a… performer, or something.” Tina wrinkles their nose a little as she remembers his whole get-up, completely out of place among what she’s seen so far of 21st century street fashion. (But then again, so is she, and her friends.)

“… I guess we’re not alone, then,” Blaine says, breaking a short bewildered silence.

“We’re never alone!” Sam exclaims, walking between them to throw his arms around Blaine and Tina’s shoulders. Tina laughs and grabs his forearm, mystery ghost forgotten for the time being.

Blaine responds with a grin, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

--

Kurt wakes up earlier than usual the next morning. He thinks he still has school -- he doesn’t know how being removed from the music program works, but no one told him not to come and besides, he does have non-music classes to keep up with, even if he doesn’t necessarily want to. He gets ready as usual, leaving breakfast out for his dad, and there’s still half an hour before Mercedes should be getting here.

Perfect. There’s something he needs to try by himself… for himself.

He heads out to the studio with his things, a fluttering feeling in his stomach, but it’s different from the feeling before he tried to play in class yesterday, like the butterflies had turned to stone and were rolling around inside him, weighing him down and making him nauseous. This time it’s promising, hopeful, familiar -- butterflies fluttering normally, peacefully.

The room is empty when Kurt pushes the doors open and drops his backpack by the entrance.

“Guys?” he calls hesitantly, to no response.

He wonders if he should be worried about where the ghosts might be, or relieved for if they really did leave after all, since that is what he wanted… but he realizes relief is not at all what he feels at that possibility.

But if the ghosts aren’t here, then all the better for what he wants to do, so he decides to ignore their absence for now.

Kurt walks up to the grand piano in the middle of the room, thinking. There’s something… something deep loosening in his chest -- something about Blaine and the others and their intense passion for music that is so different from the intense judgment and competition at school that made it so impossible for him to play yesterday.

The way Blaine had talked about music…

The one thing they lived for in the first place -- they can still do.

A gift.

Kurt spreads out the sheet music that he found yesterday, just placed on the piano lid without a glance and it’s still there, so Blaine and the others must have just taken a look at it. He recognizes his mother’s handwriting, achingly familiar and beautiful in a minimalistic way, the neat notes and lyrics, clean and legible even without the help of staff lines. His heart stutters and he gasps a little as he reads some of it -- he recognizes the song. Something his mom told him she was writing when she got sick.

Kurt used to be so involved in her songwriting, but as she got worse and Kurt grew away from the piano (and from his voice), he never asked about this song.

She’d finished it.

Here’s the one thing I want you to know, you got someplace to go…

And he needs to hear it.

His fingers tremble slightly as he places them gingerly on the keys over the starting notes of the song. It feels completely different than it did yesterday; he doesn’t know if it’s the lack of teacher and students watching, the insanity of yesterday evening in between, the song itself… but the stones turned back into butterflies and it almost feels like it did before….

He wants to play, to make music. For the first time in a year, he actually feels like he can. And he needs to.

And if -- when -- it unlocks the memories… he thinks he’s ready.

Kurt takes a deep breath and plays.

#i somehow added like 25 words in my final edit just now lol #idk if anyone really cares but suspend ur disbelief at kurt singing julie's songs XD #i definitely know it probably would not work with her songs as is #they have Very different voices i am aware but i'm also too lazy to do anything about it so . they can be adjusted #to fit his voice right lol i just have no idea how that works 🤪 i just play piano and even then not really 🥴 #so just like imagineee lol #i love how in the last part i said what would be endgame in this fic but like #damn i don't have any idea what's happening past what happens in the actual jatp show and #even then idk what's gonna happen within those bc it's not exactly the same 😂 #lol but those ships Will probably like #have hints or something if that makes any sense laksdhgdjfs anywayyyy #kurt and the phantoms #my ficsssss #glee fic #glee #idk how i tag things lmao i think that's good enough XD #DRUMMER TINA DRUMMER TINA DRUMMER TINA #oh my god it's finally happening skdghsdhdkghdhjfhgjfgh #i've been working on this since my family went on vacation at the end of june so like two months fuckdghjfdkl #anyway lol hope y'all likeeeee 🥺💖 #omg we're at 79 pages of google doc total lol

[pokeani-fankid-daycare]

ALL OF MY KIDS BY REGION (UPDATE 2)

This didn’t stay consistent T-T  Here is another update for some kids whose like names and parents I updated. Not as many ships changes this time I promise!

I put a + in front of the fankids that have one or both parents that are game only characters. My fankid universe is more anime centric but mingled with gameverse stuff. I left the + next to Hop and Victor even tho they were just in evolutions and are the whole reason I made most of these Galar ship changes, but it’s not the main anime so that doesn’t count.

I put a * next to kids whose names I recently changed, there is a ** next to kids that are new to this particular version of the list. The kids who changed ships but not names have ^ in front of them. ? aspect of the characters up in the air.

Kanto (13) :

AmourShipping: Lyn and Taylor Ketchum

CavalierShipping: Azure and Ryder Oak

RocketShipping: Jamie and Josie Morgan ?(reworking the twins)

HandymanShipping: Samantha Sketchit

Jessebelle and Pierce: **Leo and *Octavia Hyde

NeoShipping: Eliza, Clay and Doe Parker (Doe is adopted)

VermillionShipping: Paige Cerise (last name might change)

Johto (6):

Violet Waterflower (Single Mother): Rio Waterflower

QuestShipping: Una Kim

JohtoFestaShipping (divorced): Sterling Swivet

+SoulSilverShipping: Vega Castillo

FastFoodShipping: Dominic Blakely

MusculatureShipping: **Dionne Sutton

Hoenn (3):

ContestShipping: Fiore Rosales

KantoContestShipping: Marisol Meadows

OriginShipping: *Niobe Rivera-Stone

Sinnoh (4) :

SnowPointShipping: Baron Donohue (Zoey’s biological nephew)

ColdCoffeeShipping: Hazel and Dulce Fyne

CurtainShipping: Orion Wayland

Unova (11):

SnarkyShipping: Cordelia Shutter

WishfulShipping: Ione and Chloe Primarie

SpokeShipping: Barrett Dunstan

SourGrapeShipping: Rosemary, Lavender and *Poppy Bordeaux (triplets born from Burgundy with Chili when they had a fling)

AirplaneShipping: **Sophia Avion

+ElectricBlackShipping: Nike Blackwood

+FerrisWheelShipping: Talulla Harmonia

+ RoyalLectureShipping: Chesil Brook

Kalos (7):

RoyalStalkerShipping: Araminta Regan

LaserBladeShipping: Camille and Lisette Ferrand

MarissonShipping: André Tremblay

BunnyPuffShipping: Cella Doux

FleurDeGrenadeShipping: Cybele Harlow

PhaesporiaShipping: Chrysanta Gardner

Alola (5):

JellowShipping: Felix Kapua-Himmel

MonolithShipping: Lucious and Kekoa Harrison

SteamShipping (separated): Leilani “Lani” Mahi’ai (Gladion is Lani’s stepdad w/Kiawe, Misty is Lani’s stepmom w/Lana)

SkullFlowerShipping: Keomi Maltby

Galar (7):

+Trainshipping: Skipper “Skip” Viorel

+PastelGothShipping: Sini Brine

+SuperSedeShipping: Peter Tate (Adopted by Gloria/Marnie/Bede)

+CuteDarknessShipping: Eirwen “Eira” and *Rhosyn “Ro” Magnolia

DeadlyRoseShipping: Gilbert Fang (estranged from parents and adopted by Raihan/Leon)

Bonus!Hisui:

Rei (aka Lucas) x Wanda (yes the NPC you have to keep hunting down in those side quests) their descendant eventually lead to Joanna and her daughter Dawn.

Irida x Adaman descendants eventually lead to Palmer, then Barry.

Calaba’s descendants stay in Sinnoh, and lead to Paul and Reggie. I am kinda subscribed to Brandon being their dad tho but he only goes to Hoenn for work. She is also an old holy woman with no kids to speak of in the games so maybe her line continues with a sibling or something.

Melli somehow leads to Harley. I know this man would never marry a woman but Harley comes from his loins somehow they are too fucking similar-

Akari is the ancestor to Lucas who eventually get’s thrown back in time. Thankfully they immediately pick up on the family vibes and just treat each other like brother and sister. Maybe she get’s with Wanda’s brother, Zeke, so that’s why Dawn and Lucas end up having similar appearances.

Cyllene x Prof. Laventon. Okay so this would make Cyrus, Leon and Hop related somehow but to add some degree to separation to that let’s just say Cyrus’s part of the family comes from a sibling of Cyllene. Also since Cyllene is someone who seems to care for others unlike Cyrus I want her to have the fun descendants. But Cyrus got the no eyebrows and bad at feelings part of that bloodline.

Iscan x Palina’s descendants lead to Marlon. It still works weather you acknowledge the weird tan or just pretend he’s that shade all the time. 

Tuli is the ancestor of Bianca, this was something I thought the moment I saw her in game but I am going to take something else from this video on ancestor speculation and say that she is also Ginter’s wife which would make Bianca and Volkner like cousins or something. (that video I linked is very good and it’s also where I got the Marlon idea from so go watch it 😊)

Total number of fankids: 55

#pkmn fankids #long post #I hope to never update this again but knowing me that won't happen anytime soon #there will at least be little things I have to fix #don't reblog this #thanks

[vagarius]

domestic misukazu hcs

1. their kitchen cabinets are full of mismatched mugs and bowls and plates, in a rainbow of colors and sizes. there is exactly one matching pair of cups and plates, hidden at the back of the cabinet, that they'll use if one of them is specifically trying to be romantic.

2. the two of them probably have a lot of unsynchronised late nights but they always leave each other dinner wrapped on the counter and sleepily wake up when the other finally crawls into bed to say "welcome home" before falling back to sleep next to them

3. misumi is Super Ultra determined to not lose his keys and to use the front door when they first move into their place but he can only keep track of them for so long and when he confesses to kazu that he had to climb in through the window kazu just laughs bc he loves this man, dw i made a copy of our keys, as long as you shut the window after you come in i dont mind

4. consider: kazunari, glasses on and book in hand, sitting in the middle of the couch with misumi sprawled across his lap, fast asleep

5. they probably share a closet in a literal sense but also a metaphorical sense bc all their shirts and jackets are around the same size so unless it is Tailored Formal Wear there is no distinction other than the fuzzy feeling they get when the other wears one of their things

6. they never officially adopt any animals but cats constantly pass through to say hi to misumi and update him on the latest kitty gossip and occassionally drop off triangular objects. kazunari never is sure what's happening, but he's learned to keep cat food at the ready.

more under the cut!!!

7. their place is the one you show up uninvited to looking for cuddles and an impromptu movie night and onigiri with your favorite filling and leave the next morning with coffee and even more onigiri and maybe a sticker on your hand

8. they raise three succulents named san, ka, and ku

9. going off from that the reason they have succulents is because both of them travel a lot for work (hc sumi as an actor and kazu having his own art/graphics based independent business) and they know san, ka, and ku can fend for themselves if need be

10. pls consider kazu with a "kiss the cook" apron except misumi may or may not usually do the cooking so kazu will put it on and then go up and kiss misumi on his own at random times of the day

11. they have a giant bookshelf along one of their walls filled with kazunari's plethora of hyper-specific reference books, random volumes of manga, and a whole shelf dedicated to scrapbooks, photo albums, and triangle knick-knacks

12. every mirror in their house has a picture or two tucked in the corner. kazunari's favorite is one from one of those arcade/mall photobooths, where misumi may or may not have kissed him for the first time. misumi's favorite is one with kazu on his shoulders at the park.

13. NOT NECESSARILY DOMESTIC HC SO MUCH AS A FUTURE ONE BUT KAZUNARI LETTING HIS HAIR GROW OUT WITHOUT DYEING IT... pudding hair long haired kazu. misumi puts it into a bun for him while he makes coffee in the mornings and may or may not buy him too many triangle hair accessories

14. ONCE MORE A FUTURE HC MORE THAN A DOMESTIC HC BUT i think. misumi should get more ear piercings. and kazunari peppers kisses on all of them when they're fully healed. and finds a lot of joy in pushing misumi's hair back behind his ears.

15. they are dummies that wash each other's hair in their too-small bathtub and give themselves soap bubble beards and trace hair conditioner triangles on each others' cheeks.

16. they don't "slow dance in the kitchen" so much as "misumi picks up kazunari and spins them around and sings a random tune while they wait for the rice cooker to beep"

17. misumi nurses kazu back to health whenever kazu gets sick but he always kisses kazu while he does so so without fail he catches whatever kazu had as soon as kazu is healed up and kazu takes care of him in turn (misumi is as much less willing patient tho)

18. if they live an apt building... just. the aesthetic of them sitting on the fire escape in their pajamas while pressed together from thigh to shoulder and watching the stars... good

19. kazunari prefers to work in silence but he very quickly comes to love hearing misumi humming and lightly singing whenever he's at home

20. whenever someone comes to visit they give the guest their bed and sleep tangled together on the floor or the couch

21. thinking about them grocery shopping together and kazu has their list organized by what order would be most optimal to grab things except kazu's calculations are Wrong and when he offhandedly says he's a bit tired misumi lifts him and drops him into the shopping cart

22. kazu holding misumi after a nightmare. he walks them to the window so they can see the stars. misumi's eyes lock onto vega, shining brightly in the sky.

23. misumi still takes non-acting part time jobs and will sometimes get called in early in the morning and on those days kazunari will wake up to a warm mug of coffee and a couple onigiri on the nightstand, and an extra blanket thrown over him

24. on that note misumi leaving little "anonymous" gifts in general around their place for kazu to find as if kazu won't immediately know who they're from

25. their fridge is covered in doodles, from kazu and misumi alike. kazu usually leaves drawings/old thumbnails and misumi will add sankaku-kuns in when he isn't looking

26. "Kazu?"

"..."

"I really, really love you."

"..."

"Let's stay together for a long, long time, okay?"

27. birthdays are for breakfast in bed and homemade gifts and dinner with their precious friends

28. consider: misumi gently coaxing kazu into bed while kazu insists "on more chapter" while he practically falls asleep on the couch

29. (since it is softly raining here) one of them walking the other to the train station in order to share their single umbrella after their second one broke and sending them off with a quick kiss on the cheek

30. even years later, misumi still marvels at all the little things about sharing a living space - having both their toothbrushes in the holder, the extra plate in the sink, the scribbled half-doodles kazu sometimes leaves lying around - they're all very, very precious to him

31. when kazunari stays at his parents for a weekend early on in their domestic, living-together life, he calls up tsuzuru (+others, possibly) to go visit misumi on the nights he's gone

32. they always greet each other with forehead kisses, especially since they both usually have their hands full (with either art supplies or triangles)

#act! addict! actors! #a3! #misukazu #kazumisu #ikaruga misumi #miyoshi kazunari #a3 #headcanons #ernb its me

[fmdtaeyongarchive]

q3 2021 update & plot call !!

below the cut, you can find an update on ash’s current life, career (or rather absence of), and development for quarter three, as well as plot and thread ideas! if you see anything that you’d like to plot out or write with him, like this or message me, and we can get to it! i have a lot in mind about where ash is right now, so i might add more and expand later on!

mentions of ash’s continuing struggle with mental illness under the cut in case you don’t wanna read that rn

professionally

ash is on hiatus the whole quarter so... not much going on here.

uhh basically the first two days of july he was still trying to get bc to let him take a break so schedule threads could be set then if they cross paths at the bc building! he’s going to be participating in concert rehearsals for knight to a less intense extent since bc, as of the beginning of his hiatus, fully intends him to participate in the concerts. he’ll miss about the first half of the tour, but in july and august he’ll still be attending knight tour rehearsals some to keep up. schedule threads can also be done then!

(note that he’ll be missing the bc city concert as well — i don’t see him dropping by just to support either tbh, sorry bc ppl. white knight duo ver tho let’s gooooooooooo)

ash will eventually start writing music and finding his love of that again though and that’s pretty much the most work he can do during his hiatus, so it’d be cool to maybe have him write, compose, or produce for a few people that might be releasing later this year or sometime next year if anyone is interested? :) we can see if ash would work for it. there’s also opening for him to ask a few people he’s close to to sing some demos for him when he starts trying to write again!

personally + plot ideas!

explaining how he got to his hiatus would take me all day but he basically forced bc’s hand in letting him take time off (well, he wanted to leave knight and retire ngl but his manager was like... you know that’s not going to happen let’s try a hiatus <3). you can read my badly-written solos for part of it (i still need to write more) but generally, the most other muses might know is that they might have run into him acting kinda moody/down or impulsive/irresponsible lately, he made a very uncharacteristic post on social media that hinted at being unhappy with his life currently and losing passion/excitement for even the things he used to value most highly before his social media was deactivated by bc lmaaooo. the post would have probably conveyed Something was up it it wasn’t like genuinely super triggering-level content i promise !! bc released a statement shortly after stating he’d be going on hiatus without mentioning a definitive end date.

so there’s the possibility a muse might have checked up on him after that post / the hiatus news to see how he was doing?

tbh ash isn’t going to be seeking out meeting new people during his hiatus. he’s taking time to himself and is only going to make any effort to hang out with people he’s comfortable with. those he’s not close to, he’s going to have to interact with by running into unintentionally.

he’s getting a place in jeju in the early-ish part of his hiatus. he’ll be spending a lot of time there at first because he just wants to get away from seoul, so it’d be nice to set some threads there if your muse has the time to hop over to visit him if they have anything resembling a free day. (again a certain level of closeness would be necessary, but i think one good heart to heart conversation beforehand could bring someone closer to him enough for that rn! even over text tbh lmao). chuseok would be a really good time for this !! i imagine catching up over lowkey dinners or heart to hearts under the stars, that found family ash has actively fought having lol

(that place in jeju is also going to be where he starts to want to write music again too, so music based stuff there would be chill?)

heart to hearts in general anywhere would be really good for ash right now so please give me those! they can be in seoul too for sure.

he’ll be moving into a new apartment in seoul eventually, though that will probably be a little later in his hiatus? he had some bad fan/sasaeng run-ins right before his hiatus and having so much time off makes him realize he wants to move. someone can help him house hunt or if someone else is looking for a place, they can talk together about it. i want him to realize he wants to move into a smaller place that can feel more like home

once he does move, muses are free to come over and help him set up / be his one-man housewarming party. that’s a little down the line tho !! so we might not want to plot that as a thread to write right this instant

he may also be getting a pet ! muses can come look with him at a shelter or he can run into people there!

this would be a little later in his hiatus, but it’d be interesting if once he’s doing a little better, he gets the urge to dance and runs into a muse at the dance studio. idk that he’ll ever fall completely back in love with dancing, but he might rediscover some of what he did love about dancing and ash and this muse often run into each other as he visits that dance studio a little more often and they eventually bond over it / do some dancing together.

those who still really have that passion for making music ash has lost, talk to him about it <3 he misses it. he might cry but tbh he’s liable to cry in any thread

he’s cutting his hair short and dying it back to black this month, so it would be possible to run into him at the hair salon!

ash will want to be inside at home mostly at the beginning of his hiatus, but as it goes on, he’ll start to branch out and that will offer some more opportunities to hang out. he’ll try not to go to bars and clubs really, but small music venues or jazz lounges, small indie cinemas, galleries, those kind of things will be up his alley

idk that there’s much plotting to be had around this, but this long hiatus on top of the other hiatuses he’s had and his acting out before this hiatus is going to make some of the bc team realize it might not be super wise to keep pushing him hard as a cf model (and in the long run, just less of pushing him as a major idol star within the company in general tbh) so he’ll be able to get some more tattoos and piercings and will become more comfortable, hopefully, with presenting himself how he wants to be seen / having some development in that good ol’ lack of bodily autonomy aspect ash has always had going on. he’ll be coming out of hiatus living much more of his 2021 jk fc truth with the full sleeve and the eyebrow piercing .

uhhh ? pretty far down the line but i’ll mention it while it’s on my mind :) i think it’d be cool if ash did a collab (mini-)album (or two?) at some point after getting off hiatus. i’d want it to be someone he really clicks with creatively (though they don’t have to be a songwriter — i can see it working as collaborative songwriting or as ash feeling really inspired to write for them) and wants to work with since it’s not going to be something he’s letting bc push him into it at that point, and something that just happens organically. realistically, this would work with a female vocal best by far, maybe a male rapper just based on the songs ash does / i can see him doing. probably wouldn’t want to commit to anything fully rn unless it really clicks but i wanted to throw the idea out there :)

uhmmm?? ig i should also mention ash will be paying attention to his health both mental and physical he’s been neglecting for a while. there isn’t too much to say regarding plotting here because he needs to handle it himself with trying new therapy, medications, understanding there’s some stuff beyond “just” his depression going on. coming to accept nothing’s ever going to be perfect, but that self-awareness and effort can help more than denial can. not super plot potential-y but i’ll mention it since this is all the personal update section

basically, ash is taking time to recover mentally (and physically) and ultimately hopefully leave hiatus in a better place than he started where he can be more comfortable in his career, even if just a little bit, in himself, and in his life. if he can have some good, developing threads during the time, that’d be great!

#&& there's nobody home | ooc #fmdcall #&& queued

[00def]

feel / ch. 3 (m)

-  producer!jaebeom x f reader

- romance/angst/smut warning: sexting  

- 1k words

-  summary: you are a hopeless romantic looking to forget your highschool  crush, jaebeom, until you match his fwb only tinder account.

ch. 1 / ch. 2 / ch. 3 (m) / ch. 4 (m)

It’s been two days since you last spoke to Jay. He didn’t message you, and you didn’t want to seem pushy. Sure, you have things to do and fill your time while you stressfully message Sooah saying Jay won’t text you but he can update his Instagram. And of course Sooah will insist he’s a fuckboy and that’s what they do, plus he doesn’t actually know you and is probably messaging other girls at the same time and his profile does say he wants sex so why are you so hell bent on being with a guy who doesn’t care about you? Well, because you’re a clown, and that’s what clowns with a crush on a fuckboy do. They message their crush again, because he doesn’t remember you exist. And yes, it’s 10pm, but he’s just updated his Instagram story so you know he’s on his phone.

You: Hey! How did work go?

And now you wait.

Jay: as good as work gets. wbu

Don’t you love it when a guy says “wbu?”

You: I just finished baking some cookies.

Jay: i dont have the patience for that

wish i could have some cookies

You: I could always send you some.

Jay: i don’t want them to crumble, you’ll have to come here. :P

i can order some fried chicken.

You: I don’t really like fried chicken that much.

Jay: what am i going to serve then?

It’s all been building up to this… the risky text.

You: I’ll have the chicken, you can be the dessert.

.

.

.

And now he’s not replying. Shit.

You: Was that too much?

Jay: that was perfect

you’re such a tease

You: I didn’t do anything

Jay: are you trying to make me fall for you?

You: You’re a catch, what do you want me to do?

Jay: how many catches are you reeling in tho

You: You’re actually the only one

The other guys here aren’t very desirable

Jay: so what i'm hearing is, you desire me :P

You: I mean

Jay: sounds like you deserve two servings of dessert

You: I’ll take it

Jay: i'm glad you’re willing to take what i want to give

You: What can I say, I have a weakness for guys with piercings.

Jay: :) and i have a weakness for women who know what they want

cute, charming, intelligent, are all bonuses

You: Now you’re gonna make me fall for you

Jay: what are you doing right now

that's the goal

You: Doing the dishes, sexy right?

Jay: yes you are

You: How do I reply to that?

Jay: :)

You: Do you enjoy making people flustered?

Jay: only if they’re enjoying it too

hey you asked :P

hopefully i can be a welcome distraction

You: Oh you are

Your phone’s battery is seriously draining from the location services required by Tinder. Plus, getting guys off the app is better.

You: Hey, this app is a little clunky. Do you want to talk somewhere else?

Jay: well, im not on much, but i have kakao

Defjayb

my kakao id

You open KakaoTalk, go into search and Add by ID. “defjayb”.

Jaebeom sent you a message.

Jaebeom: [photo]

Oh god. Did he send you a dick pic?

Jaebeom: hey there

You scroll and

.

.

.

It’s just a selfie thank God.

You: That was a risky click

Jaebeom: Were you expecting something risky

You: Please you totally set it up like that

Jaebeom: [picture]

Oh… why does he have topless selfies in his phone…

Jaebeom: How about a taste

You know desserts aren’t meant to be enjoyed alone

Maybe you could send him a picture that showed your cleavage.

You: [picture]

Jaebeom: Mm love it

You: Maybe I could show you more?

Jaebeom: Yes please

I’m so hard rn

Here goes nothing…

You: It’s how I want you

Can you show me?

Jaebeom: How do you feel about a risky click then?

You: Sure

Jaebeom: [picture]

Attached is a picture of his pants, with the shape of his erection.

And where do you leave off in your photoshoot?

Forget any work you intended to do right now, you have to take some nice pics without anything identifiable in them.

You: How’s this?

Jaebeom: Gorgeous

Jaebeom: [picture]

Oh God. This is the real deal. He really sent you a dick pic. He’s sitting on a chair, with his left hand on his hard dick, captioned “Need your lips here.”

Jaebeom: You look delicious

Can I see more under your clothes?

You: What would you like to see?

Jaebeom: I’m a sucker for a back view

But whatever you want

And this is where you spend 3 minutes contorting in order to send his the best picture of your ass anyone could ever take. While making sure nothing else is visible.

Jaebeom: Wish it were pantyless, but hot nonetheless

You: Sorry, they’re still on

Jaebeom: Sounds like you’re asking for punishment

You’ll have to be taught a lesson

Where do I put my cock when your panties are still on?

Shit… You’re gonna have to slide them so the side a bit, and take a pic.

You: [picture]

Jaebeom: You are getting warmer

Don’t disappoint me now baby

Give yourself up to me

There’s no going back, you take another one.

You: [picture]

Jaebeom: Now we’re talking

I want to lick everything I’m seeing

I want you to grab my cock

So you can put it inside you

You: Me too

Jaebeom: I love how wet you are

It’s making me harder

You: It’s how I want you

.

.

.

Read. He’s not replying anymore.

Five minutes later, however.

Jaebeom: [video]

It’s a video of him running him slowly rubbing his dick.

This took FOCUS

You: Wish we could exchange your hand for something else

Jaebeom: God how I wish it were your lips gripping it

Pussy lips*

You: Whichever you want.

Jaebeom: I’m not fucking around Im gonna cum while I still can

Send me one last thing I can cum to?

You send another picture.

Jaebeom: Good girl

God that was a trip

Thank you

I gotta get back to work now.

You: Right, good luck.

#jaebeom smut #got7 smut #jaebum smut #jaebum #jaebeom x you #jaebum x you #jaebum x reader #jaebeom x reader #got7 scenarios #story #jb #mine