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muiromem · 2 months

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Just... repeatedly rotating An Idea around in my head

(and yes it's still Tom/Harry/B'Elanna OT3 because I'm obsessed with them, but I also love Janeway's and Tom's weird friendship)

Basically, something Big and Insane and Sci-Fi happens, and somehow all of the known universe in time/space is just sort of.... gone. Or dying, or being destroyed. Stars are going out, everything is vanishing out of existence. Planets, galaxies, creatures and anomalies and time/space itself - all completely gone.

Of course, Voyager is in the eye of the storm (so to speak) of this catastrophe that happened around them, and therefore one of the few things that remains for now (much like Kirk and the crew still existed after McCoy accidentally changed the timeline in "The City on the Edge of Forever"). Obviously, they're trying to stop it - to fix whatever this catastrophe was that could unmake all of existence.

With the wonders of Science-Fiction, there is a theoretical way to fix things; a jump-start essentially, to reset everything to what it was before this catastrophe and repair the wound it created. But even with this theoretical plan, there's something missing: a blueprint, of sorts. If they set off this insane spatial-temporal reaction, everything would be reset, but there's no telling what state the universe would actually be in after it was done. It would be like setting off a Genesis device on a war-destroyed Earth and hoping it would magically return everything and everyone to how they once were. There was nothing to guide this theoretical process of rebirth - and literally everything was at stake.

Even the great minds of Tuvok, Seven, B'Elanna and everyone else are at a loss for what to do. Unless they had someone like Q, omnipotent as he was, how could they feed something into this reaction of theirs to tell it what to do? How could they ever have enough information to rebuild all of existence from scratch?

It's Tom, of all people, who comes up with the answer: let him go.

At first everyone just sort of looks at him like he's insane because, what? What could he possibly be talking about? But even though he can't really remember, Tom still has a theory: the Warp 10 flight.

For a brief time, he was literally everywhere in time and space, all at once. Existing throughout all of existence simultaneously. Could his body, his unconscious mind, have somehow remembered that time? Could it have imprinted something onto him? Perhaps his very cells? He figures if there was a chance, even a small one, that his theory was correct - they had to take it. Because if he was right, then technically he was a living, breathing blue-print of all the known and unknown universe... and their only chance at saving everything.

That's when the riot starts, a great uproar of arguments. Facts and theoretical probabilities from Seven and Tuvok, horror and concern from Harry, even more from B'Elanna and the Doctor. They're startled, angry, because even if that were true the process would almost certainly kill him. And then there's Janeway, putting a stop to all the noise with a hand and saying that if there was a chance this theory would work, if the Doctor or someone could find even a speck of evidence to support it, then she would do it. Because even if everyone else forgot, she'd passed the transwarp threshold too.

Tom tries to argue, Chakotay and the Doctor too, but Janeway insists. She sends Tom to be looked over by everyone for proof of his concept, but says that if the time comes, she'll be the one to do it. As Captain, it's her job to keep everyone safe, no matter what. No one can argue, but no one is happy. Even this one chance at survival feels like it will come at too great a cost.

Time passes, with everyone rushing to do what they can before Voyager is also consumed by the nothingness. But eventually the verdict comes - Tom's idea has merit. His very atoms are somehow encoded with cross-temporal chronotrons and other signs that the theory may work. Once he knows what to look for, the Doctor scans Janeway and sees that she has these markers too, though hers are... fainter, for lack of a better term. She theorizes that it's because she only went through the Warp 10 process once, while Tom did it twice. The Doctor admits that there is a possibility Tom's the better candidate for this mission, only because he has a stronger "imprint" so to speak. Janeway still insists, refusing to send one of her officers to die in her place.

When everyone finally gets this complex and theoretical "reset" device figured out and constructed in one of the cargo bays, Tom begs to come with Janeway. He says that after everything she's done for him, he wants to see her off one last time. She relents, and once B'Elanna has started the reaction up from the safety of Engineering, shining beyond the doors like an imploding star, the two make their way there.

The entire deck has been cordoned off to keep chroniton and other radiations from killing the crew before they can set this whole thing in motion. It's just the two of them there. Tom takes a moment - as the doors open and they're both hit with a wave of heat, energy, and the unknown - and he thanks Janeway properly. For giving him a second chance, for believing in him, and for everything that followed after; like meeting Harry and B'Elanna, and finding a home aboard Voyager. Then he says "get them home" and before Janeway can realize what's happening, briefly thrown by his intense sincerity, he's shoving her aside - hitting the mechanism to shut the cargo bay doors. Inside, Tom grabs some tool and smashes the console so the door won't open without a manual override. That would probably buy him enough time.

Inside the cargo bay, it's like being trapped with the birth of a star; plasma, light, and colors all swirling in strings and shapes and a great sphere of something. There's no special switch for Tom to flip, no complicated sequence he has to follow. The best Voyager's brightest minds could figure out was for him to simply... walk into the singularity and hope for the best. He thinks of his family on Voyager, he thinks of his father and so many things unsaid, he thinks of B'Elanna and Harry and hopes that they'll still take care of each other when he's gone. And to keep them safe, to preserve everything that ever was or ever would be.... he walks into the fires of rebirth.

Outside the cargo bay, Janeway is screaming - trying to get in, to override the doors. She gets them open, only in time to see a tall silhouette disappearing - almost disassembled before her eyes, like dust being scattered away on the wind. Then there's just light - so bright it feels like it somehow pierces through her skin and bones and the very atoms of her being. Then.......

She wakes up. There's no telling how long it's been; all Janeway knows is that she's on the cargo bay floor, ears still faintly ringing, and Chakotay is gently helping her sit up. All around her it's... quiet. The cargo bay looks untouched - no crumpled bulkheads, no scorch marks, nothing. Even the vast, cobbled together machinery for the reset is simple gone. Once her head finally clears, Chakotay asks if she's alright, if her plan worked - but Harry's comm. from the bridge interrupts the question. Excitedly, Harry announces with great relief that the nothingness, the catastrophe, seems to be gone. His scans, Voyager's databanks - everything seems to be showing up normal. As far as they can tell, the universe was back to how it should be.

Back, except for one thing: Tom Paris.

As far as Janeway can see, Tom isn't in the cargo bay. She asks the computer to locate him; the reply is that Lieutenant Paris is no longer aboard. This is announced just as B'Elanna is running in through the cargo bay door, no doubt to see the result of all her hard work. She comes to a halt, looking at Janeway - staring because she wasn't supposed to be here, she was supposed to... After only a fraction of a moment, the computer's announcement finally registers and suddenly B'Elanna is running at Janeway with fists flying, screaming about how could she let him do this? Where is he, dammit, where the hell is Tom?!

She gets a few good hits to Janeway's chest and shoulders before Chakotay holds her back, and Janeway just lets her do it. Because this is her fault - she should have known Tom would try to pull that stunt with the doors, should never have let him come to see her off. She barely registers that B'Elanna's fury soon devolves into angry, choked back tears which Chakotay tries to soothe. When Harry arrives soon after and sees her expression, probably sees Janeway's too, it's all too easy for him to put two and two together. He and B'Elanna end up clinging to each other in their grief. Though Chakotay comes to Janeway to try and comfort her too, to reassure her that she's not responsible, all she can do is look at the cargo bay and see the silhouette where Tom last was - lost now to the ether of the universe.

The next few days are... hard. Harry might as well have aged a decade, and instead of the righteous fury that Janeway had expected, B'Elanna's just gone quiet. When Janeway stops by Sickbay, even the Doctor has become subdued, staring wistfully into the distance at nothing when he'd normally be working on some experiment or other. She still asks him, and Seven, and anyone who might be of use, if there was anything that could be done. But as far as anyone can tell, Tom Paris is gone - he'd sacrificed himself to save everyone else.

But Janeway feels like something is still wrong, like Tom's ghost is... haunting her somehow. It's a figure of speech when she admits it to a concerned Chakotay, but one night, she startles awake from a dreamless sleep, and there he is - standing in her quarters. Tom looks confused, exhausted, and he's... well she can see right through him. He looks at her, seemingly just as startled as she is, and she swears she hears him whisper "Captain?" But then suddenly he's convulsing, curling in on himself with a cry of pain and Janeway is horrified as she watches him.... unmade. It's like he's nowhere and everywhere, born and dying, unraveled but stitched together all at the same time until he's once again vanished into nothingness.

Janeway's heart is racing and she doesn't understand what she just witnessed. A dream? Hallucination? Some alien interference? She goes to the Doctor at 0400 and demands he scan her for a virus, temporal misalignment, anything. She's terrified that this was nothing more than the aftermath of radiation from being so near their "universal reset" as it went off. But there's also a tiny sliver of the smallest, most fragile hope, that this is something else - that there's a chance Tom isn't really.

The Doctor does find something, a strange resonance of sorts, connected - or perhaps coming from - Janeway. He theorizes that it's an effect of being so close to the singularity during the reset. As far as he can tell, she's not suffering from radiation damage, but believes that her guilt over Tom must have caused the hallucination. He offers to devise a treatment, and Janeway begrudgingly agrees. For him to say that what she'd seen was a hallucination though... it felt wrong somehow.

For the next few days, she hardly sleeps, too busy pouring over anything she can find - old Federation logs, complex theories, and all the research and schematics for the device they'd created. All in the slim hope to understand what had actually happened to Tom. Was he simply dead? He couldn't have been wiped from existence or surely, no one would have even known he'd existed. But had he been scattered throughout existence itself, a fundamental building block of the universe now? Seven helps her eventually, though it takes a good deal of persuasion. Chakotay and even Tuvok (though he'd never admit it) become increasingly concerned that she's grasping at straws, just trying to absolve herself of the guilt she feels because Tom took her place - but she knows it's more than that.

And eventually, she's proven right. The so-called hallucination happens again - but this time she's not the only one there. Seven and the Doctor were working with her on some experimental simulations on the holodeck when there's suddenly a terrible noise; something between electro-static and the wails of a dying creature. The holo-grid starts sparking, a console blowing out completely, until suddenly they all watch Tom Paris form out of nothingness before them. Whatever process was involved in his... reassembly, is obviously painful. Just watching the strange tangle of unidentifiable mass contort itself until it could become Tom was sickening. And when he finally takes form, still only semi-opaque, he collapses to his knees, shaking.

Janeway runs to him immediately, unsure what to do but calling his name. Here's there, he's there - it wasn't just in her head. The Doctor and Seven follow shortly, taking tricorder scans in shocked fascination. They ask questions, trying to understand what happened, but Tom doesn't know any more than they do. He says it's like he's everywhere but nowhere - and yet something keeps pulling him back into reality, back onto Voyager. He thought he would die, had come to terms with it, and yet he's still coming back. Even if he'd been completely tangible he looks awful, like he's dying every minute he's there. Janeway tries to reassure him that they'll find him, that they won't just give up, and that manages to make Tom smile. He says knows she won't give up on him - but as he starts to shift out of phase again, face clenched with pain, he asks her to promise him something. Janeway doesn't want to, knows she won't like what he has to say, but she nods anyways. "If you have to - let me go," is what he pleads. "Don't risk Voyager or anyone else for me. Just promise me that."

Janeway can't even form a reply, doesn't know how to let go, how to admit defeat. She's never given up on a crewman before, how could she possibly now? Out of habit she reaches out to touch Tom's shoulder - and even as he's fritzing, starting to disintegrate before her very eyes, she is surprised to make contact. The sounds of tricorders going haywire are behind her, but all Janeway can focus on is the fact that despite Tom literally unraveling in her hands, for a moment, just one moment, she could feel him. Then he's gone.

Everything is different this time - there was proof now, witnesses. B'Elanna and Harry are no longer withdrawn, instead racing full-steam ahead to do anything they can to help. They ask her about Tom of course, about how he's looking, and whether or not she thinks that they can save him. Janeway doesn't know what to say, how to tell them that Tom's clearly in pain and that she has no idea what even happened, let alone how to fix it....

Unfortunately, she doesn't have to. During some experimentation, Tom reappears again - much more violently this time, just when Harry and B'Elanna are present. The very air around them seems to crackle with energy, the temperature changing from too hot, then too cold, and back again. The atmospheric readings are going haywire and when Tom reappears, somehow less corporeal than before, he crumples to the ground in a heap. Harry is openly crying as they run to him, begging him to open his eyes - but when he and B'Elanna try to touch Tom, somehow their hands go right through.

Janeway is completely flummoxed. She'd touched Tom before, she knows she did. But it seemed he was becoming less and less stable each time he returned to a corporeal form - perhaps that explained the change? As the Doctor and Seven are once again running complex scans, Janeway goes to Tom's side and slowly reaches out a hand. As it lands on his shoulder, as Tom tries to sit up, she does make contact. The tricorders instantly go haywire, and Harry and B'Elanna wonder in despair - Why now? Why her? Why can't they touch him? But all Janeway can think is that this is progress. It must mean something, especially since Tom he seems to regain consciousness as she maintains contact, becoming a bit less transparent - a bit more real. When Tom sees Harry and B'Elanna this time, his eyes begin to water too - and Janeway wonders how tears could form in whatever state of flux Tom has become entwined with. But when she removes her hand to give them some space, to ask Tom if he's alright, he starts to fade once more.

This time Tom tries to reach out, to touch Harry and B'Elanna - but is just as unable to make real contact. Instead he tells them he loves them, begs them to take care of each other, to let him go - and it's painful to watch as he's once again gripped by whatever agony has been tearing him into reality and back. Hoping it might do something, Janeway grabs Tom's hand and this time she makes a promise she's going to keep: to bring him home dammit, no matter how long it takes. Just her hold on him seems to stabilize him a bit, taking the floating sands of his dissolving form and pulling them together for just a moment longer... but then the temperature goes haywire, energy crackles around them and Tom is gone once more. With him goes every sound as even the beeping of tricorder scans finally cease. In the silence, Janeway can barely seem to breathe and knows that Harry and B'Elanna must feel infinitely worse. Even more terrifying, each time Tom appears, he seems to be getting weaker, losing whatever cohesion he's managed to retain. She has no real basis to understand anything that's been happening, but Janeway has the sinking feeling that if they don't do something soon, Tom will be lost to them for good.

But then the Doctor clears his throat and holds up his tricorder, and suddenly hope floods back. "I believe I know what's happening to Mister Paris," he says, with not an ounce of boastfulness for once. Instead, the Doctor is as grim-faced as the rest of them, but holographic eyes no longer seem so empty. "And I think there's a chance we can fix it."

The process is... complex. Even for a mind as scientifically adept as Janeway's. The only important part is that Janeway wasn't just imagining that there was something connecting her to Tom. In reality, it was the other way around. Tom wasn't just being pulled back to Voyager - he was specifically being pulled back to her. It was all down to the the second transwarp flight, which they'd taken together. Crossing the barrier had created a sort of tether between them - a connection point across the vastness of reality. When Tom had entered the singularity to "reset" all of existence, in a manner of speaking his very existence was used to rebuild what had been lost. The price for this was Tom himself - every atom and molecule destroyed like the fuel necessary to keep a fire burning. But Tom and Janeway had gone to Warp 10 once together - existing everywhere in time and space at the same time. Because of that, a part of Tom still existed in Janeway, safe from the "reset" aboard Voyager within the eye of the storm. Janeway had unknowingly become a sort of temporal anchor, pulling Tom back into existence where he belonged.

At the moment though, he was trapped - pulled between reality and the strange purgatory of nonexistence. But with the magic of incredibly complex Science-Fiction and Technobabble, the crew essentially find a way to use Janeway's own Warp 10 resonance as both a magnet and a waypoint - to pull Tom back, and then reintegrate him into their time and space with the help of B'Elanna's ingenuity and a lot of Borg-enhanced technology. Harry describes is as being "like a temporal transporter" and that's already enough to give Janeway a headache, so she doesn't try to ask for details. The main idea boils down to grabbing onto what's left of Tom's "pattern" of existence, which has been imprinted onto Janeway, and using their newly constructed technology to "rematerialize" him back into reality.

Once they've found the method a jurry-rigged some machinery, the Doctor is standing by, both for Tom and for Janeway should anything happen. The others are farther off, manning the various machines while Chakotay and Tuvok have evacuated various decks in case of any explosions. The risks are immense, and this time Janeway had actually assembled the crew - asking them if they thought it was worth it. They'd potentially be putting the ship and everyone onboard it in danger, in a last-ditch attempt to bring one lost crewman home. It had warmed her heart when not a single person balked at the danger; Tom Paris saved them, their homes, their families and futures. Why shouldn't they try to save him too?

When the process happens, Janeway feels a sense of déjà vu; the light, the swirling mass of indecipherable colors and shapes and feelings, all cascading before her. This time she's strapped up with various bits of technology, hoping against hope to become the lighthouse that guide's Tom's way. In the very same cargo bay, bulkheads rattle and crumple this time, machines start screaming their warnings, and Janeway can feel the heat and pain and dizziness as radiation tries to eat away at her. But she can't stop yet, she won't stop. Even as the Doctor is yelling that the radiation levels are reaching critical, even as she hears Harry calling out that there's a new singularity opening and it's becoming completely unstable, Janeway sees it - a silhouette. It's only just forming, scattering in and out like a dance of lightning and sand, but it's there.

This time she won't be thrown through a cargo bay door and left to rebuild in the aftermath. This time she listens to her gut, and runs forward. She'd been the only one able to hold onto to Tom before because of whatever this bio-temporal tether was that had connected them - she sure as hell wasn't going to let him go now.

So she runs and sees an outstretched hand, breaking and reforming and scattering like light through a prism, everywhere and nowhere all at once. She ignores the pain and the feeling like she herself might be consumed by the fires of the unknown.

Kathryn Janeway takes a leap of faith, she grabs that outstretched hand, and for the sake of every person on her ship, she pulls.

Watching from afar, all the others see is a gigantic explosion of light and colors and sound. The cargo bay had been nearly cleared out before this process, but every piece of newly-made machinery has been completely destroyed. Bits and pieces scatter the floor, bulkheads have been wrenched open, sparks are flying, and Harry and B'Elanna find their ears ringing as they choke on smoke. They'd erected a level 10 forcefield for protection before starting the procedure, but in the aftermath it's been completely torn away. Even as the environmental controls kick in and start clearing out the haze, they look up from where they'd been thrown to see a massive scorch mark, spread out like a starburst across the cargo bay deck.

At it's center, they see.... something. Dizzy, confused, and still trying to see through ash and debris, initially they can't make it out. Even the Doctor is nowhere to be found, his emitter lying on the floor. It's fritzing but, after a brief inspection, seems repairable. Whatever happened must have shorted out many different systems, as Harry's attempt to use his combadge goes unanswered. He and B'Elanna make their way instead towards the center of the scorched cargo bay floor and behold... Captain Janeway.

She's covered in ash, with burns on her skin and uniform, and as they watch she kneels to the floor. There's something in her hands and after a moment it becomes clear; she's draping an emergency blanket over a long, familiar form. One with a head of messy, tawny blonde hair.

Harry and B'Elanna are running then, falling to their knees as they reach Janeway's side and behold Tom Paris - naked save for the blanket Janeway has brought to preserve his modesty. He's overly pale and clearly unconscious, but he's there, he's alive.

Harry cradles Tom to his chest, rocking him gently and bawling like a baby. B'Elanna runs her hand over Tom's hair, his face, his bare shoulders - anything she can seem to reach. They don't even know if he's fine really, but at least he's breathing. They didn't blow up the ship and they didn't have to lose him. Janeway looks exhausted and it's obvious her burns are painful, but she just stars at her three crewman, clutching onto each other with such love, and she smiles.

It feels like she sits there for an eternity, just watching them, basking in their reunion and the knowledge that they did it. In reality, it must only be a few minutes before the cargo bay doors are being forced open and Chakotay, Tuvok, and Neelix come through, bringing medical supplies and asking if everyone is alright.

By then, Harry is finally wiping his eyes and asking B'Elanna if she can get the Doctor back online because they're probably going to need him. For once, she looks reluctant to work, clearly wanting to stay there with him and Tom. In the end she agrees, but not before pressing a kiss to Harry's knuckles and Tom's forehead before taking the holo-emitter and leaving.

Afterwards it's all a long process of scanning, repairing, and treating everyone's wounds. Janeway tries to shoo Chakotay away once they bring her to sickbay, far too worried about Tom's condition, but he pulls out the big guns. Chakotay knows that she can't say no to Neelix when he gives her those big concerned eyes and tells her that "the crew needs their Captain to be taken care of too". So she ends up lying on a bio-bed for half an hour while the Talaxian carefully treats her burns and radiation poisoning as best he can. Unsurprisingly, B'Elanna gets the Doctor's program and holo-emitter working in record-breaking time, and they're all relieved when he checks over Tom and the prognosis is good; Tom's exhausted, dehydrated, and a bit worse for wear, but he'll be fully recovered in no time. Whatever madness they'd pulled of had worked.

Eventually, he wakes up, still very weak but every bit the Tom Paris they know and love. When he sees how distressed both Harry and B'Elanna are, he even jokes that they put an awful lot of effort in "just for him". B'Elanna looks like she wants to punch him for it, but instead throws her arms around him in a hug, and the three of them share a teary, heartfelt reunion. When the lovebirds have to split off so everyone can get some rest, and once the Doctor has given her a clean bill of health, Janeway goes over to Tom's biobed to see how he's doing.

He's obviously tired but he smiles up at her. However, the first thing she tells him is that she should court-martial him and throw him in the brig for the stunt he pulled in the cargo bay by taking her place. For a moment, Tom nearly believes her. But then Janeway smiles back and pats his hand with hers and says that he may be a reckless idiot, but she's proud to say he's one of her bravest officers. She also sincerely thanks him for what he did, to which Tom replies that she risked everything to get him back, so that probably that makes them even. Janeway doesn't bother trying to make him promise never to do something that risky again, since she knows he'd only break the promise anyways if the circumstances required it. Instead, she says that if he's going to continue doing insane, reckless stunts for the good of her ship, then she'll just have to keep doing insane reckless things to keep his sorry ass alive. She receives the patented "yes ma'am" for her troubles, and Tom says that after all, he learned from the best.

The last thing she does before telling him to get some rest though, is tease him - threatening that, even if she understands why he did it, if he ever tries that switcheroo he pulled with her again, she'll have to tell the gossip mill about all the places she hadn't realized he has freckles.

Janeway can see by his slowly-dawning expression that Tom does recall something about emerging from the nothingness, naked on the cargo bay floor. The last thing she hears as she walks, grinning, away from Sickbay is a sputtered yell of "You wouldn't actually... Captain? CAPTAIN!" before the automatic doors swish shut.

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exslytherin · 2 years

Conversation

pre-debut namjoon: listen here, pretty boy

pre-debut yoongi: why is "pretty boy" even considered an insult

namjoon: wha--

yoongi: call me "pretty boy again"

yoongi: I want to be the prettiest boy you've ever seen

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permian-tropos · 1 year

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disco elysium fandom I know there are many jean dislikers as well as likers and he’s probably a really contentious character and I don’t want to poke a Discourse hornet’s nest too hard

but I am just saying I have read fics where he’s reasonably sympathetic and it’s not BAD or anything but the whole time I was wondering how this version of him correlates with canon where he makes a lot of noise about grumpily caring about harry despite being mad at him and then the one occasion where harry really really needed help he was like. not remotely interested

I read post-canon fics where he comes to help when harry is suffering or in danger and think damn where was that energy in the game

#kim even calls him out for it in canon if he is hospitalized right???#why do fics just gloss over it like do y’all just not have a satisfying answer to this problem #do you have to ignore that situation to rehabilitate jean and harry’s relationship?#I would forgive a fic if it tackled that head on and had jean admit fault there ffs #untitled disco game #disco elysium spoilers

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glosskirt · 3 months

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dream 💭 | KSJ

synopsis: you're lim y/n, and you take your dreams a little too seriously. since the cafe you work at extended the hours of everyone's shifts, you've been losing some sleep. however when you do sleep, it's almost as if you never want to wake up. it's him. . he doesn't have a name, but he's always in your dreams. that doesn't mean he's in your reality too...right?

genre: smau, romance-comedy, fluff

warnings: swearing,

pairing: dream (?) kim seokjin x f!reader (lim y/n)

a/n: creds to @haecien for telling me his dream thing cuz it gave me this idea. now imagine finding your dream man on the street? and this man being kim seokjin.. i'd die.. anyways here's the story

dream 💭 m.list

profiles: tiktok gang // namjoon and co.

#friendly neighborhood gloss #bts seokjin #bts fics #bts #jin smau #seokjin smau #kim seokjin #kim seokjin smau #bts jin #bts smau #masterlist #dream

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ghoul-haunted · 1 year

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the depeche mode to disco elysium replay pipeline

#it's more like jean brainrot thoughts but more critical bc this fandom isn't good at parsing out uh. workplace abuse.#we sure do like assigning a lot more power to jean than he actually has given harry's pre-memory wipe out behavior #especially given the decade age gap and the satellite officer power dynamic #i love harry's potential redemption as much as the next person but glossing over the everything else he did throws the impact under the bus #theres a tendency to pivot jean's behavior into something that it's not re: harry's drug use #and the conflicts between jean not wanting to be around harry while simultaneously covering for him #are a lot more interesting than 'jean represents all the cop ideology in the game' when kim fucking kitsuragi is right goddamn there

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catboyieejeno · 5 months

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.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・★

cw: soft dom! mingyu x slight pillow princess! reader, fem! reader, pwp, oral (fem and male receiving), slight overstimulation, praise, mentions of cum, npr

18+ minors do not interact !

boyfriend! mingyu who is completely obsessed with burying his face in your sopping cunt until your fingers are weaved between his locks and you’re coming multiple times in a row. he won’t let up, not because he’s being mean or punishing you with overstimulation—although occasionally, that is the case—but because you, his sweet, pretty girl, deserves nothing less than his tongue lapping restlessly at your folds. It’s embarrassingly easy for him to get pussy-drunk, grinding himself into the bed as he goes down on you for well over an hour. By the time you plead out desperately for his cock, he’s already left a thick puddle of his cum on the spot in the bed he was fucking his length into.

kim mingyu is a simple man of simple pleasures, some of which include your cries and sputters, your trembling thighs and heavy pants, and the infrequent, though appreciated, indiscernible blabbers of praise you manage to let out through drooling lips. when you can actually manage to form words, that is.

you are his pillow princess, whether you bestowed that title upon yourself or not. The chances of you going down on him? slim. giving him head is a rare occurrence; in fact, you’d have to beg him to let you try, plead with him to stuff his considerably large length down your throat. you’d have to convince him you need him there so bad, that you want him to feel just as good as he makes you feel, but even then, his responses are rehearsed.

“but baby, i don’t need all that, let me treat you instead,”

“‘wanna do all the work for you, honey. you deserve it.”

“you really want me to fill your mouth up baby? first you have to come twice on my tongue,”

“I’d rather come in you, sweet girl.”

“s’too big for your pretty little mouth, don’ wanna hurt you,”

at first, you thought he didn’t want you to give him head at all, or that he assumed you would be bad at it. But, when you finally begged enough, your pretty boy caved and it became apparent very quickly why he was holding off for so long. from the moment he lays back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other pressing his thumb onto your swirling tongue, he knows he’s done for. watching you crawl over him, leaving kisses and licking stripes as you make your way down his torso, makes his pre-cum leak freely from his flushed tip.

mingyu has his lip caught between his teeth, eyes glossed over in a haze. the very moment your velvety lips wrap around his head, he’s groaning out, arms and legs dropping limply onto the mattress. you have absolute power over him in that moment, and both of you are very, very aware of that. all of your insecurities dissipate as you realize he’s falling apart, melting like putty in your hands. his chest that previously rose and fell calmly is now puffing up with air he pushes out through his nostrils and the noises he’s letting out? other-fucking-wordly.

he eventually regains feeling in his hands and they rotate between holding your throat, your cheek, and simply sliding along the ridges of his abdomen. all the meanwhile, it’s him who chokes up on his words, slurring his speech.

“please, please, please…”

“your mouth feels s’good on me, fuck,”

“doin’ so good, so fucking good, all for me…”

“if you do that again, i’m not gonna last—shit.”

“just like that, yes, baby… oh, god, you’re gonna make me—“

when your tongue swipes deliciously over his tip, he drags out a strangled moan, shooting his hot load into your mouth and down your throat. knees locked, toes curled, and hips bucking up into you, he throws his head back to ride out his orgasm.

a few seconds later, his hands fly to your hair to lift you off, but in a small act of defiance for all the times you were overstimulated by him, you grab his wrists and pin them at his sides. he lets you do this because it’s so, so fucking hot to watch you have a sliver of control for once—both of you are well aware he could overpower you if he wanted to. instead, though, he laces his fingers with yours and takes what you give him like the good boy he is. it takes less than ten minutes for him to come each and every time you give him head going forward but thankfully, his stamina doesn’t betray him. he recovers while he returns the favor, devouring you and drinking up your juices as his cock that never fully softened, swells up all over again.

⋆ ★

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beenbaanbuun · 4 months

Text

first kiss with ateez

park seonghwa

i’m of the belief that seonghwa is a gentleman through and through

unfortunately that means no kiss until at least the third date, and even then your lips would have to look particularly plush and tempting for him to even dare

a bit of pink lip gloss does the trick, drawing his gaze to your lips more than once during the restaurant date that you find yourself on

he studies them when you talk about what’s going on in your life, watching your pretty teeth peeking out from beneath them

in fact, the more you talk, the harder it gets to pull his gaze away to look you in the eyes

how can he when your lips look so, what’s the word, kissable…

and before he can even stop himself, he’s leaning across the table and is oh-so-gently holding your face in place with a hand on your cheek

your words stop in your throat as he breathes against your lips and perhaps you can’t help but find his lips a little tempting too

you close the gap, pushing your lips against his own soft pair and holding yourself in place for just a moment or two

neither of you forget that you’re in the centre of a restaurant so you pull away, sharing a silent promise that it would be the first of many

kim hongjoong

hongjoong didn’t quite know why he felt so compelled to show you his studio so early in the relationship

it was his safe space away from the rest of the world, and yet there you were, stood right in the centre of it looking like you belonged there

and he believed that you did because why else would you look so pretty under the dim lights that shone from the ceiling?

why else would he be so tempted to pull you over to his desk chair and have a long, passionate make out session with you?

he tries to shake the dirty thoughts away, but a few linger on for longer than he’d like

and as you look around the space, he can’t quite help but imagine what it would feel like to hold his lips to yours

feeling braver than usual, he struts up to you and leans into your personal space, mouth barely an inch from your own

“can i?” he whispers, eyes flickering down to watch your lips part and your tongue dart out to wet them, “want to feel your pretty mouth on mine…”

you nod and before you know it, he has a hand on your shoulder, pulling you close and his lips on yours, drinking you in

he doesn’t pull away until you’re both dizzy from a lack of oxygen, but before you can even fully catch your breath, he’s delving in for more

jeong yunho

another gentleman except he is more than happy to kiss you on the first date as long as you’re as willing as he is

because he never really believed in love as first sight, but when he sees you for the first time, kissing you is all he can thing about

spends half of his time staring at your lips, and half of his time staring at your eyes wondering how pretty it would be to watch them flicker closed as he kisses you

tries his hardest to listen to you as you talk but how is he supposed to concentrate when all he wants to do is lean in and press his own lips against yours

ends up asking you to repeat yourself pretty much every sentence but you don’t really mind because you like the way he pouts when he asks…

both of you so desperately want to kiss the other and yet neither of you say anything, until…

“is that lipstick on your teeth?” yunho asks. you try to rub it off but you’re rubbing at the wrong tooth and yunho is just giggling to himself

you ask him to get it for you, and he freezes up because he’s unsure as to whether you’re genuinely asking him or whether it’s some sort of weird way of you asking for a kiss

he plays dumb and hopes it’s the latter, leaning in a little and extending the invitation for you to close the gap, which of course, you do

you giggle against his lips as he pushes the tip of his tongue into your mouth to wipe away the lipstick

kang yeosang

you’ve been dating for a while and you both desperately want to kiss the other but you’re shy and yeosang is clueless

the two of you are trapped in a weird sort of tango where one of you will get just about brave enough to lean in for a kiss before uncertainty kicks in and you take it back

your friends can’t be around you two anymore because it’s genuinely annoying to watch you two perform this weird ritual

they’re all silently begging for the two of you to just quit the bullshit and make out (preferably not in front of them)

but even with the hints the guys drop to yeosang, he still doesn’t seem to understand that of course you want to kiss him as badly as he wants to kiss you

until one night, you’re at his dorm for a movie night that yunho invited you over for

eventually, though, he gets fed up of watching you two love sick idiots watch one another instead of the movie and he stands up with his popcorn bowl and his blanket

“i’m going to bed,” he grumbles, shooting the two of you a frustrated look, “you two need to get a grip and make out already…”

it’s the most direct hint any of the members have given to yeosang, and finally it sinks in that holy shit! maybe you want to kiss him too???

your lips are already on his the second yunho is out of the room and he can’t help but squeak in surprise before fully leaning into the kiss

it’s unsure to start with, but the two of you soon find your feet and as per yunho’s instructions, you do in fact ‘get a grip and make out’

choi san

another gentleman but only in the sense that he likes to get verbal consent before kissing you

and he’s been waiting so patiently to ask you all night but he can’t quite bring himself to interrupt you as you very cutely ramble on about some random topic

but as much as he could sit and listen to you talk about anything with your angelic voice, he just wants to lean over to where you’re sat on his bed and kiss you

you notice him zoning out after a while and your sentences trail off

“sorry, was i rambling?” you ask, growing shy

“huh?” he shakes himself out of his trance and pouts at you, “aw, you could never ramble, babe…”

while you’re grateful that he’s so quick to squash any insecurities you might have about talking too much, you can’t help but wonder what had him so deep in thought

but before you can ask, san gets there first

“can i kiss you?” you nod, but san doesn’t do anything until you actually say it

when you finally get the word out, he smiles and lunges forwards to let his lips crash against yours

it’s not a gentle kiss, but it’s not an aggressive one either

it’s more like a long awaited one, switching from slow and sensual to desperate and depraved, before going back to the former in mere seconds!

song mingi

this man can and will kiss you whenever he feels like it

don’t get me wrong, he gets so incredibly shy around you, but he is also so incredibly impulsive that the moment he gets the idea to kiss you in his head, he can’t shake it out until he’s done it

it’s only your second date, but the two of you click so well that mingi thinks he might already be in love with you

and then he says something jokingly mean, purposefully to make you pout, and he just freezes

have your lips always looked that kissable? because right now, that’s the only thing he can think about

they look so soft and pliant and pink and before he knows it, mingi is leaning down to your height, his own lips just a breath away from yours

“do you want to kiss me?” he asks with a dopey smile, “i want to kiss you…”

you nod with a dazed expression and he closes the gap, wasting no time in deepening the kiss

he puts his huge hands on your waist and holds you flush against him as he explores your mouth

after what feels like a blissful eternity, he pulls away, panting deeply as he licks at his own lips that are covered in your spit

jung wooyoung

this little shit wants to kiss you soooo bad and unfortunately for you, he can tell that you want to kiss him too

with anyone else, that wouldn’t be a problem, but wooyoung is evil and is absolutely determined to make sure the only thing you can think of all day is his lips

he spends all day biting at his lips and flicking his pretty pink tongue over them the make them glisten in the sun light

acts extra pouty just in case he didn’t already have your full attention on his lips

he can tell by the way you zone out mid sentence to stare at his mouth that he does in fact have your full attention but that doesn’t stop him

oh no, it only drives him to be oven more of a little demon

he decides he wants to get ice cream with you despite it being the middle of winter, and for some reason you agree

he eats it in such a way that gets it smothered on his lips, but with the smirk on his face you can tell it’s intentional

you try and dab it away with a napkin but he just pouts and leans in close

with a sigh and a roll of your eyes, you take the hint and press your barely concealed smile to his own lips

he transfers the ice cream to your own lips before letting his tongue dart out to lick it up

you pull away with a grossed out whine, but he pulls you back in immediately for more

choi jongho

for jongho, the urge to kiss you built up over time

like sure, on the first date he notices how pretty your lips look but all of you is pretty and that doesn’t necessarily mean he wants to kiss you

but then on the second date, he can’t help but notice that you like to chew on your lips and somewhere in the back of his mind is a thought that has him shocked at himself

like, he’s known you for a little over a week, why is he daydreaming about tugging your bottom lip between his teeth before diving in for a kiss

and then suddenly, it’s the fifth date and you’re sat on his sofa curled into his side and he just can’t stop staring as you nibble on your bottom lip

there’s a deep internal conflict about what he should do because he just can’t sit and watch you unintentionally tease him anymore!

decides to be a little bold and takes a deep breath before using his thumb to tug your bottom lip free of your teeth

you look at him in surprise, but you have barely enough time to be shocked before his lips are descending on your own and you’re leaning into the best kiss of your life

it’s slow and passionate and jongho is holding onto you like your made of glass with his hands splayed across your lower back

you pull away before delving back for more immediately, gasping when you’d feel jongho’s teeth scrape against your bottom lip…

#ateez headcanons #ateez reactions #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #atz reactions #atz x reader #atz fanfic #atz fluff #atz scenarios #atz drabbles #ateez drabbles

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koocycle · 1 year

Text

over wine | jjk | teaser part one

↳ synopsis. designer dresses, spa weekends and rare wines are no longer enough to keep your marriage afloat. with your husband gone from home and a marriage standing on shaky grounds, you stumble back to your neglected career in the hopes it’ll fulfill the void in your life. you’re ready to take the risk this time, whether that is with the emerald cut diamond around your ring finger, or without.

over cocktails and dior-bowed roses.

pairing. husband! jungkook x ex-model! fem reader

teaser word count. 2k

estimated word count. 35k+

au + genre. rich couple! au, established relationship! au, married couple! au, semi sugar daddy! au, suburban couple! au, angst, fluff and smut.

teaser warnings. mild cursing, suggestive and mature themes

send me an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

series masterlist

released on thursday, july 6th 2023.

Jeon Jungkook must be easy to love.

You figure he is, because anywhere the well-dressed man goes, curious eyes follow. Though you find it hard to pinpoint what exactly it is that makes the man so lovable in the eyes of your friends and neighbors. Your husband owns a great sense of fashion, in his defense. If we’re talking 10-minute trips to the only supermarket available in town, where the man makes sure his hair is slicked back and the first few buttons of his blouse are undone, then yes, Jungkook might have hit the bull's eye. It’s noticeable on people’s faces no matter where his feet carry him. Take the red-haired divorcée across the street for example, whose skirts get shorter each time she comes out to get her mail. Or take the head of the community garden every Saturday morning, who stoops a little lower each time she plucks another stock of radishes from her dirty, little yard.

Long story short, the man who got voted to grow the ‘’reddest tomatoes the neighborhood has ever seen’‘, is considered one of the hottest men on the block. Not like it ends there when he carries his good attitude with him no matter the day. As a beloved one who drives off to the office no matter the rush he’s in, Jungkook makes sure to slow the speed down and send a sweet wave to the elderly couple at the end of the street. After business hours, he would find lost mail in his letterbox, wrong packages at his porch, and missing kittens hidden in the trimmed bushes of his backyard. Yes, great guess; Jungkook in formal attire makes sure they find their way back to the rightful owner before it turns dark out. A smile on his face that’s sweeter than the candied apples he gifted Kim Namjoon’s 7-year-old the other day.

Yes, Jeon Jungkook from number 09 is the neighborhood’s heartthrob.

What is there not to love about your beloved Jungkook?

Perhaps his despicable wife?

‘‘You might want to lose the attitude before she comes back.’’ It is the first thing your husband says that is directed towards you, breaking the tense silence like nails scraping against a chalkboard. There’s a large gap between the both of you on the rather firm sofa and the silence you grant him does little to calm either of you down. The two-seater isn’t a very broad piece of furniture on itself, though it seems bigger when each of you is seated at the opposite arms. Glued to them like teenagers who got into a fight in the lunch cafeteria in between classes. You watch Jungkook slump down his seat in the corner of your eye, an arm resting over the edge in a way that makes his Blancpain watch shimmer prettily around his thick wrist.

‘‘Attitude?’’ You end up asking, glossed lips pursed together.

‘‘You know what I’m talking about.’’ He says flatly. Jungkook sounds like he couldn’t bother any less, but truth be told, the tight pause in his defense betrays him. His eyes fall to your folded arms and travel lower down your bare, crossed legs after. ‘‘You look like you don’t want to be here at all.” The Versace dress he got you hugs your hips just the way it’s supposed to and rides higher up your thigh with every minor movement you proceed to make. Ruby red polyester clashes with the neutrals in the room and you definitely seem like you don’t belong in such a formal setting, but fuck, he would have you bent over Mrs. Kang’s desk with your dress hunched around your waist if he weren’t supposed to be an angry fuck now.

You scoff at his foolish accusation. “Please, Jungkook,” a humorless chuckle dies down on your tongue when you can’t find it in you to fake it. “I was the one who had to beg you to clear your schedule for today’s appointment in the first place.”

“Then act like it. Don’t just sit here and sulk.” He bites like he had his response ready and set. Sharp eyes meet yours. “You’re acting like a child, pouting like it’s gonna get us anywhere. Seulgi is here to help us sort our shit out. At least let her do her damn job.”

Jungkook’s head slowly lolls to the back of the ivory-colored sofa when it’s off his chest, a puff of air leaving his lips like today’s session got him exhausted before it could even make its start. His eyes fall to a close as he pinches the bridge of his nose. The sight of it only makes the tight knot in your stomach grow and you can’t seem to tear your eyes off the heated man, a snarl on your lips you wish he’d notice.

“I told you, I want a second opinion.”

“And I told you, we’re not going through the hassle of finding another therapist when we got a fine one just under our nose.” Jungkook’s jaw tenses and he slumps down the sofa some more. “Give her time. She’s analyzing our relationship.”

His words trigger something inside you. They make you sit on the edge of your seat with heat rushing to your head, the Valentino Garavani mini bag falling off your lap and onto the cushions at the movement. “How much of an analysis does she need when we visit two times a week?” Your eyes fall on him. “Open your eyes, Kook. She always asks for my opinion and uses it against me a minute later. She is always on your side. We need a second opinion.”

“Just fucking drop it.” He mumbles to himself though he swears it’s for your own good. Also because the waiting area is only a door away and he doesn’t want to walk out of the heated office with judging eyes on him like last time. The walk of shame back to the car must have been the highlight of your visit. “I’m not gonna run around town and find you a straight, male therapist who’s blindly gonna agree with you the minute you flash him half a boob. Wasting our money like it’s nothing.”

Jungkook regrets saying that as soon as it’s out. He didn’t have to say that, he figures. Though when he’s met with silence and catches the roll of your eyes on his side, the pang of guilt disappears as soon as it came. You didn’t come here to argue here with him. Quite the opposite, considering your surroundings. Though it is getting hard to block that road when you aren’t one to bite your tongue either. “Of course you won’t. You love it when people suck on your dick.”

He should have seen that one coming. And he knows either one of you needs to stop barking back if you want to see any progress throughout your sessions with Mrs. Kang. Jungkook could be the bigger person if he wanted to be, but his egoism is rocket high. ‘’Say that again?’’

You fall to the back of the sofa as well, mirroring him with your arms crossed tight against your chest. “Seulgi is sucking you dry and you’re eating it up.” You mutter with gritted teeth. “Always picking your side, always defending you. . . you’re loving it and you can’t get enough.”

Jungkook says nothing and just listens to your quiet, angry mumbles at first. To him, you’re almost whining the words out like it’s going to get you anywhere. And maybe it would if the circumstances would be any different. If you weren’t forced to kill time in an empty office waiting for your couple’s therapist to return with your preferred coffee and biscuits. Kang Seulgi knows the deal by now; you like your spiced chai latte and he likes his shot of espresso so bitter that it sits on his tongue for the rest of the session.

He continues to watch you. Examine you, in some way. The sound of your rambling drawing out the more he loses himself in his own world. Issues roll off your tongue like you’re reading them off a long, unending list, and he feels like you’ve argued about these same things over and over again. Too many times for him to keep his focus when your breasts are pressed together so prettily in that dress.

You’ve had it for a while, Jungkook then recalls. A couple of years at most, but he remembers the day he bought it for you like it was last week. Initially, you told him no; you didn’t need him to buy you a dress for a price so ridiculous. He could buy you an extra large salmon bagel for lunch and you’d be the happiest woman in the room, is what you tried to convince him of. Though your eyes glimmered with adoration the minute you entered the store and held the designer piece in your hands. Moments after swearing you only wanted to see it up close and get a good feel. He remembers loving that glimmer in your eyes.

He wanted to see it more often, so Jeon Jungkook got you that Versace dress like it was nothing. You yelled and shrieked at him through the entire checkout and earned some nasty glances from the saleswomen, but he didn’t mind. He could take a hit from you. If a simple swipe of his card meant he’d see that look more often, then yes, Jungkook was willing to sell his soul for you.

“Are you even listening?” He doesn’t notice the corners of his lips slipping up until you tug him out of his daze. The apples of his cheeks show as quick as they die down.

“Yeah,” Jungkook groans and sits up straight. “I hear you. You’re just not making any sense, babe.”

Jungkook often finds several ways to make you roll your eyes and tighten your jaw, though he rarely makes you fume with steam blowing out of your ears.

Today is one of the days where he makes you fume with steam. He can tell by the way you avoid his eye in the hopes you won’t go all feral on him. Or how your glossed lips pettily press together, the Dior Addict lip oil one step away in your lip-combo routine from cussing him out until your voice goes hoarse.

You huff quietly, clearly holding back. “How am I not making sense? You’re not listening to a word I say.”

“I listen. You just have a hard time understanding me.”

It’s a thing you guys do, the finger-point thing. And it is something you do a lot. It’s a thing where either of you hopes that the other backs up when you point for long enough. A healthy relationship doesn’t work like that, is what Seulgi told you during your last session. As if you didn’t already know. But old habits are hard to get rid of, and certainly when it comes to you two, where someone else has to lose in order to win.

You didn’t think of her words as useful and made sure to voice the complaints about your newly found couple’s therapist the entire ride back home. Jungkook, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure what to do with your critical feedback. The entire session, he was just waiting for Seulgi to hand him that step-by-step handbook to a successful marriage, which he hoped was attached to her clipboard. But he knew she wouldn’t have made it so easy for you even if she had it. Not with the amount of money he pays her per session. Because if we’re going to be honest, then no, Jungkook didn’t get Seulgi either. But he was willing to learn from her and understand her. Unlike you, who just sat there and might as well have filed and groomed your nails while you were at it.

Maybe you’re scared of whatever is yet to come, he ponders. Maybe you think you’re better off than whatever the future has planned out for you and Jungkook. He doesn’t know, and he can’t figure you out either.

full version, date of release july 6th 2023.

taglist: @codeinebelle @cxcotin @hrts4kook

please send me an ask to be added to the list.

#jungkook #jungkook teaser #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jjk #koocycle

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kardashiannwannabe · 7 months

Text

Just girl stuff

#it girl #fashion #iconic #beautiful #kim kardashian #luxury #pink #lip gloss #painted nails

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cheriewony · 23 days

Text

boo, you whore — huh yunjin

genre; smut, smut with plot

pairing; mean girl!yunjin x fem!reader

warnings; mean yunjin, degredation, size kink, strapon use, cunnilingus, face sitting, voyeurism, mentions of filming

note; this is a repost from my old blog (cheriejen) i honestly loved writing this request, want jen to call me a whore and rail me senseless ♡ - would you guys like a pt 2? i was thinking of doing a foursome with the plastics-

minors ++ men, dni

huh yunjin seemed to have spawned her wretched way into this world with a silver spoon in her mouth, wearing perilously tall jimmy choos and a matching pink birkin. this hadn't changed much in university. you had thought that after the horrid interactions the two of you had had back in high school, university was going to be a fresh start.

you couldn't have been more wrong.

whilst yunjin's friends-since-birth miyawaki sakura and kim chaewon were studying elsewhere, she had been able to make a new trio of plastics quickly enough. yu jimin had been connected to yunjin's hip since she had stepped onto campus. she was the life of the party- organising mixers, socials and parties like this very halloween one. jang wonyoung, a fashion major and the titled prettiest girl on campus, had been an obvious choice as the final piece in the highly-respected trio.

just like she had cornered you in the cafeteria in her short little tennis skirts in high school, here she was, in a short pink slip dress that was hardly covering her hot pink lingerie, her glittery lip gloss smudged from an intense makeout session she'd just had with the captain of the university football team. oh, and the bunny ears that had been propped onto her college-blonde hair, almost like an afterthought.

you had learnt that college halloween parties were an excuse to dress slutty the hard way- after showing up, fake blood, teeth and warts as frankenstein's wife to your first halloween party in your freshman year. today, you were wearing the same veil you had to your first party, instead paired with a white front-tie corset, the shortest skirt in your closet and a wash of dewy tint on your lips.

yunjin's lip curled into that smirk she always had in front of you. despite years of witnessing her lip curl in that manner, you still couldn't really understand what it meant. disgust? irritation? amusement?

"who would've thought a little suck up like you would be at one of my parties?"

you hesitated to correct her. this technically wasn't her party- after all, it had been karina who had thrown the party. your lips remained shut; any party huh yunjin actually showed up too soon became her party.

your hesitation was interrupted by yunjin's perfectly manicured hand fastening around your wrist. she ends up tugging you along with one hand, the other hand sneaking another small tray of filled red solo cups on it, continuing to weave neatly through the throngs of drunken young adults before pushing you into the bathroom, not even bothering to lock the door behind you two.

she can only smile over at your flushed face, how your lips had pursed into pants after clumsily rushing into the bathroom behind her. yunjin props herself onto the bathroom counter top, draining one of the solo cups in one, squealing aloud once she finished.

"actually grew yourself some tits, huh?" she questions, that cheshire-cat grin still tugging at her lips. she steps forward to tug the bow holding the from of your top together loose.

part of you instinctively shielded your now bare skin, cheeks stained red as yunjin chuckled over at you.

"no bra? what a slut."

your cheeks could only get warmer at her words as she pushed you to settle onto the bathroom counter, moving to stand between your legs, lifting your skirt up to get a view of the lacy pink panties you were wearing. she smirked at the sticky patch that was beginning to form between your legs.

"what a fucking whore."

the next view was something you never expected; huh yunjin, propped on her knees as she pushed your panties aside and began to lap at your dripping cunt, playboy bunny ears askew on her halo of blonde hair.

your were obsessed with her. anyone would be with how her tongue teased your clit, drawing long licks against your sweet pussy. all you could do was moan, tugging at wads of blonde hair to force you closer, only causing her to bite at your inner thighs.

"do you know how much that stylist cost me? don't you fucking dare."

so you don't, your hands fiddling with your tits instead, rubbing the nub of your nipple to make your eyes roll, tongue propped out of your mouth as yunjin continued to lap at your pretty pussy. as soon as your legs begin to roll alongside her licks, she pulls away, lips shining with your wetness.

"it's that easy to get you to cum? fucking slut, bet you've thought about this for so long? what a creep-"

she moves to the side, removing her own clothes, only revealing more perfect curves. she was venus and you were under her spell as she moved out of view to put something on. by the time she arrived back in front of you, you were salivating. the strap on was huge. and glittery pink. obvi.

you immediately drop to your knees, eager to lap and suck at the tip of the dildo but yunjin only scoffs in disgust.

"i don't want your foul mouth anywhere near this. lie down."

and you did. she forces you to lay down as she aligns the pink dildo with your entrance, lubing it down with your own wetness. she slowly pushes in, the two of your moans sync. her hands find purchase on your hips before moving faster, ignoring any of your whines or demands.

"listen here bitch. i make the rules here. all i want to hear from you are those dirty little moans-"

your eyes become glassy, almost doll-like as she does as she pleases, grunting almost animalistically as her thrusts get more incoherent and shaky, your gummy walls tightening around her.

"f-fuck- keep taking me, don't make me stop-"

your whines are pornographic at this point, making your own hips move alongside her thrusts, your thumb teasing your clit as you reach your high. as if a puppeteer had dropped your strings, you collapse onto yunjin, hands gripping past her tits to rest on her shoulders.

yunjin groans in disgust, pushing your weak frame flat onto the counter before taking out her phone, beginning to film your twitching self, your pussy still quivering around her pink cock. you try to cover your face, which clearly doesn't please yunjin one bit. she pulls out in frustration, and grabs her stuff before glaring at you.

"boo, you whore."

#♡ — lala's archive #huh yunjin #le sserafim instagram #lesserafim #le sserafim #yunjin #yunjin smut #yunjin le sserafim #yunjin huh #huh jennifer #jennifer huh #le sserafim smut #le serafim #le sserafim yunjin #girl group #girl group smut #kpop girl group #girl group x reader #girl group imagines

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chlorinecake · 4 days

Text

🎙️ star-crossed lovers 【薄幸な恋人】 ⛦

summ✩ry ⭑⭒⭑ As rehearsals and promotions for your big collab stage with Enhypen become progressively more intense, you and Niki face challenges that might effect your secret relationship and standing with the company...

p✩iring ⭑⭒⭑ idol!niki x popstar!reader PREVIOUSLY

cont✩ins ⭑⭒⭑ band au, fluff, secret romance, kissing + a slightly heated make-out scene, mild bullying, LOTS of drama, reader is younger than Niki, 3.6k words

It felt strange having your hair, makeup, and clothes managed by someone else, especially in such a meticulous way.

Today was the big day of the Riot Grrlz x Enhypen fan meeting that Hybe was hosting in honor of your upcoming collaboration stage, the event acting as some sort of promotional.

The fashion theme for the day, as decided by the likes of an online poll distributed by Enhypen's Instagram account, was 'Schoolgirl / Schoolboy,' which meant everyone would be dressed in plaid neck ties and neatly-ironed button-down blazers.

“This'll have to do,” murmured one of the makeup artist's on duty, simply dusting you with a bit of blush, some gloss, and shimmery eye shadow because they couldn't find a foundation shade that matched your skin color.

“I can't find my contact solution!” Serenity exclaimed frantically in the dressing studio, searching through her sparkly teal duffle bag for the fifth time this hour.

Of course none of you were willing to assist her on the aimless contact solution hunt, especially not with the way she verbally harassed the makeup crew for not "lining her eyes right."

“Just let it go, Ren,” Sunghoon said with an annoyed sigh, “the stylists are making all of us wear glasses for the concept today anyways...”

“Okay first of all, don't call me by my nickname. Second, it's not my vision I'm worried about, but my image,” she clarified matter-of-factly, “I wanna impress the Korean fans with a big and bright boba eye moment...”

“You have sooo many problems,” Jade added with a similar irritation, rolling her eyes at the diva before a hairstylist ran over to clip in another track of fake hair.

“Tell me about it,” Serenity huffed despairingly, sticking her arms out like a scarecrow as the fashion crew adjusted the belt around her waist.

“Let's just try and maintain a good mood before the meeting guys,” you started optimistically amongst the tension, “the fans might pick up on our bad energy if we all show up pouting like this...”

“Easy for you to say,” Niki replied teasingly, “you slept like a baby last night… meanwhile, you kept me up with your insistent snoring…”

“Did not,” you whined in protest, looking back at his attractively playful expression, “it’s not my fault that the stories you tell in your groggy bedtime voice are so relaxing.”

Niki meant to reply but was rudely interrupted by Serenity’s stinky attitude, “Aww, late night bonding moment, I see? Hope a little ‘story time’ was as far as it got for you two lovebirds...”

You and Niki shook your heads in unison at her senseless comment, the rest of Enhypen and your band mates soon rushing out of the dressing room and outside to the awaiting limousine as the schedule manager directed.

“Make sure you have everything you need, guys! We’re running a bit behind on time and can’t afford any more set-backs,” exclaimed a tall, broad man in athletic wear, a black Hybe hat topping off his look.

“Got it, sir,” Jungwon replied politely, double-checking his leather cross-body bag before stepping into the vehicle, the rest of you following after him.

You didn’t expect to see Miss Kim in the front seat with the chauffeur, but you greeted her nonetheless.

“Morning, Miss Kim!,” You and Hearin started enthusiastically.

“Morning, Riot Grrlz,” she returned while not looking at any of you, writing hasty yet neat notes down on her clipboard, “I’ll be bold and assume you ladies have never attended any sort of fan event, correct?”

“Y-yes, that is correct,” Jade answered before you, crossing her legs in her seat, “this’ll be our very first experience today…”

“Oh, that’s cool for you then, isn’t it? Don’t worry if you don’t know what to say or do, by the way... just copy us,” you heard Heeseung encourage somewhere behind you, but your mind was more focused on the way Niki’s hand accidentally brushed against yours while you two glared out of the same window...

Accidentally… maybe…

“I was just getting around to that, Heeseung,” Miss Kim continued after clearing her coffee-stained throat, “Korean fans as a whole are pretty cutthroat, and whether you’re a foreigner or not, they expect you to present yourself a certain way…”

“Perfect,” Sunoo thought out loud, “they expect you to be perfect…”

“That’s just the way this idol life goes, I'm afraid,” Jungwon sighed from his seat, not empathetically, but in a realistic sense.

“Either way, you girls should be safe to mirror whatever the boys are doing if you ever feel confused…” Miss Kim trailed off, the limo being just a few feet from reaching the fan meeting center, “Good luck today, you all.”

▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊| • • •

Things were turning out surprisingly smooth at the event, to say the least.

Needless to mention, you and Niki stayed pretty close the entire time, and the fans seemed to be amused by your attempt at famous duo heart poses with him.

“Just extend your hand like this,” he instructed while giggling, watching as your overhead heart ended up looking more like an oval to the audience.

Serenity was received as a fan favorite, too, her “boba eye” look captivating the male attendees while others were more entertained in her beginner Korean skills.

“Hwaiting,” she exclaimed confidently before the fans one too many times for your tolerance, Sunghoon’s face clearly showing just how much he was enjoying not being the cringiest person in the room for once.

Or, at least that was until an older fan requested that he and Sunoo sing and dance to the infamous aeygo Ottoke song for good luck at the show tomorrow.

“The things we do for engene,” the two boys collectively thought to themselves while fastening coquette bunny ears atop their heads, hoping that their enthusiasm would override the embarrassment.

It was all just such a culture shock for you and your group.

“Uhhh, a little help here?” Haerin worriedly called out to Jake as a particularly excited Korean fan approached her with a lot to say that she could barely understand.

“Oh- allow me,” Jake offered between the language barrier, translating to Haerin what the fan was trying to tell her.

“She thinks I’m a what now?”

“A K-pop Idol, mostly because of your trendy look today,” Jungwon giggled warmly, “the prophesied eighth member of Enhypen, in fact...”

Haerin laughed with both embarrassment and flattery, trying her best to explain to the young fan that she was a member of the Riot Grrlz and Riot Grrlz only.

Interactive activities continued just as well after this, the event nearing its end as you and Niki did a few TikTok dance challenges for the fans on stage.

Dance challenges that you had practiced with him in eery hours of the night, or whenever you two were left alone in the dance studio.

That, alongside other things too… like stealing sweet kisses here and there… or nearly melting while staring into each others love struck eyes—

“____, right?” A fan asked, approaching you with a blue marker and square of paper.

“Yes, that’s me. Nice to meet you,” you returned, keeping eye contact with her, despite the dark shades she wore.

“Nice to meet you, too! I have so many questions to ask you about what it’s like working with Enhypen!… and I really like your hair, too! The highlights look really nice with your outfit hehe… ALSO, I've been listening to a lot of your groups songs recently, and my favorite has to be the main track from your most recent album, it’s so unique!…” the fans voice eventually trailed off shyly.

“Oh my goodness, sorry for rambling!! Uhmmm, can I get your autograph by any chance?”

“Aww, thank you,” you smiled brightly, “and it’s okay! I find it cute how interested you are in my experience and music…”

Your hand reached out to grab the marker from her grasp, your body leaning forward slightly as you signed your name on the photo, resting your weight on the desk before you.

So lost in the moment, you didn’t even realize that the photo you had just signed was one of you and Niki hanging out just outside of Yeouido Park the other night.

It was impossible to hold back the gasp that escaped your throat at the realization, your finger loosing its grip around the marker as your stunned eyes met her knowing ones.

“Look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she chuckled in a facetiously sweet tone, you and her hands fighting over the now autographed-polaroid before your grip overthrew hers.

“Where did you get that—”

“Your secret’s safe with me, alright?” She interrupted with a sharp whisper, “So long as you work on distancing yourself from Niki moving forward…”

You blinked in feigned confusion at her words, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re just colleagues—”

“And he’s an idol,” she cut in again, “idols don’t belong to silly American girls like you… you don’t even belong in our world…”

At this point, you're certain she could see how upset you were with her, and you didn't even care to hide it. “Everyone has welcomed me here, expect for you… and to what gain? I’m here with my band solely for work purposes, and I can assure you there is nothing you have to worry about concerning my professionalism.”

Your strong reply seemed to have rubbed her the wrong way, one of her hands fastening the bag over her shoulder while the other adjusted the glasses sitting at her nose.

“Thank you for your time,” she nearly growled at you, that same phony smile plastered to her lips before she hurriedly walked away, disappearing into the crowd of fans.

You let out a breath that you didn't even know you'd been holding, trying to calm yourself down before anyone noticed the silent commotion that had occurred on your side of the meeting booth.

All you could do was hope that this was the only copy or evidence of you and Niki hanging out that night as you folded the paper into a small square, tucking it under your sleeve in a way that no one would notice.

Above all though, you were just glad that the event was coming to an end soon, a few on-set staff members already helping to put away some stage props, meanwhile Sunoo, Heeseung, and Jade helped themselves to bringing along some gifts from fans.

“Hey... uhm, Heeseung? Can I-”

“Yes, Jade,” Heeseung answered with a giggle, “you can have all of my kitty plush gifts...”

▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊| • • •

The limo ride back to the HYBE building was quiet, the sole thought roaming in the back of your mind being that one fan's cruel words…

…𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘈𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶… 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥...

It wasn’t like you were trying to infiltrate the world of K-pop.

You and your group were simply expanding your collab horizons upon being invited, and it seriously boggled you how anyone would have a problem with that—

“Knock knock,” Niki said with a smile in his voice from behind the door to your private backstage dressing room, waiting for your cue that it was safe for him to come in.

“You can come in, Niki,” you replied softly, standing in front of the body length wall mirror while struggling to fix your hair into a suitable style for the stage practice in a few minutes.

“Hi,” you greeted again once he reached you, watching as his eyes traced your reflection, almost immediately picking up on your nervous demeanor.

“You did great today, ____, y’know that?” He started with a low voice, guiding your stressed hands away from your head and resting them at your sides.

“Niki, I have to get ready—”

“And you already look more than prepared,” he encouraged, securing his hands around your waist before leaving a kiss below your ear, “gorgeous, even...”

“Thanks,” you answered shyly, somehow already feeling a bit better about things now that he was near you.

“So. Are you gonna tell me what’s got you upset or are we gonna make this a guessing game?” He teased, making you chuckle a bit as his attempt to cheer you up.

Your eyes fell to the floor, his grip on you loosening as a little sigh escaped your freshly glossed lips.

“A fan…,” you began quietly, “at the meeting today… she asked me to sign this photo.”

Reaching into your bra, you pulled out the mysterious square photo and watched with a pout as Niki carefully unfolded it from each corner.

“I… I don’t understand…” he stuttered, eyes glazing over the sight of you and him holding hands at the firework show that night.

“I know, it’s my fault that—”

“No…,” he interrupted your words before meeting your guilt-ridden eyes, “I don’t understand why you’re letting this get to you…”

“Excuse me?” You asked with a confused expression, “if something like this gets out, it could ruin both of our careers, y’know?”

“Sure,” he responded nonchalantly with a shrug, “but I couldn’t care less about some jealous sasaeng’s creepy little photo fest… by now, it’s gonna take a lot more than an innocent, harmless photo of us hanging out to make me question our status in this field.”

“You never take anything seriously, Nishimura,” you smiled with a sigh, shaking your head as you watched his fingers tear the photo to pieces.

“Well you’re definitely an exception to that trait of mine,” he smirked, tucking the torn shreds of paper into his back pocket before finding your face in his hands, placing a tender kiss to your left cheek.

“How sweet of you to say,” you whispered softly, grabbing the neckline of his shirt and pulling him closer to your height, “now how about you kiss me properly this time?”

He hummed at your teasing tone, sharp features softening as he tilted his head, sealing the space between you and him with the sweet kiss you’d been waiting for.

“I’ll never get tired of this,” Niki sighed against your lips, his right hand removing the rubber band securing your ponytail so his fingers could roam freely through your curls.

Things were escalating pretty quickly now, both of your breaths sounding more labored with each second as you stumbled backwards onto the desk, his energy leading the kiss as he remained on top of you.

It was almost more than you could handle, his hands roaming at your sides before your eyes barely fluttered open, the sight of his slightly blushed button-nose making you feel like melting on the spot.

Thats when you realized his pink hue was a result of two reasons: (1) The way your hands shyly clung to his shoulders right now, and (2) the shadow of footsteps peeking behind your dressing room door.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Hello? Miss ____, its Kim... Are you decent?”

“Erm, one second!” You responded in an obvious frantic.

Niki helped you get up from the vanity table, kneeling down quickly to hide himself under the it as the stern lady made her way into the room anyway.

“Sorry to intrude,” she began abruptly, not even taking note of your currently disheveled hair and flushed expression, “but I’ve unfortunately been appointed as the bearer of bad news for today…”

“Oh... uhm, w- what is it, is everyone alright?” You asked with a concerned tone, trying to take your mind off the fact that a Niki stained with the glimmer of your peach flavored lipgloss all over his mouth was literally under your desk right now, a mere two feet away from Miss Kim’s leather boots.

“For the most part, yes… but it concerns one of your band mates… Serenity, specifically… Since you are the leader of your group, I found it humble to have at least this much respect to tell you first in private.”

You let out a breath, closing your eyes for a moment before opening them back up, restoring your usually confident aura and making eye contact with the woman.

“Thank you, Miss Kim… I’m listening…”

▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊| • • •

The sounds of shoes rhythmically scuffing, mics going in and out of focus, and layered fits of heavy breathing filled your ears for the next two hours.

Design tech, stage directors, and performers alike were giving it their all to perfect things before the big show coming up.

You paced around the shiny stage, a sweat rag secured lazily around your neck as you and the Enhypen members just got through with rehearsing the main choreo at the performing arena for the first time.

Everyone except Jay and Jade that is, who were still busy with working on their guitar duet for the intro show backstage with the music writers.

“I have no idea how you can still see after being in front of these bright stage lights all the time,” you huffed out tiredly, glancing at Sunoo who only shrugged while taking a few gulps from his grey water bottle.

“I’m not too sure either, but for the lot of us, it’s just something you have to get used to,” he tried warmly before letting himself fall on the ground, limbs spread out like an exhausted snowman as sweat trickled down his forehead.

“Here, lemme show you a little trick I like to use,” Niki offered with a smile while approaching you from behind, his larger frame casting a shadow before you.

“Look down there,” he started, guiding your waist with one hand as he pointed ahead of you with the other, “do you see the tech crew down there?”

You looked to where his finger was pointing, eyes being met with the sight of workers who sat in reclining chairs while others drank some coffee, a few sporadic employees carrying clipboards with stacks of paper, giving out orders to their fellow floor members.

“Yeah, I see them,” you answered, making Niki laugh slightly for reasons you didn’t fully understand.

“That means you’re too close then,” he replied, still holding your waist as he guided you to take a few steps back, which ended up being more steps for you given the leg length differences.

“There’s a rule of thumb that if you can see the audience, they can’t see you… are the lights still bothering you now?”

“Not as much, actually,” you said, turning to face him as he still held you close, everything in your body fighting not to kiss him in this moment given the way he looked back at you, “thanks again…”

“Anytime,” he smirked smuggly, “but uhhh, I think people might be looking at us now—”

“Oh,” you giggled shyly, backing a few inches away from him.

“Ahem,” a nagging voice cleared from beside you two, breaking the wholesome presence of the moment.

“Do you guys think you’re invisible or something?” Serenity asked, crossing her arms while staring the both of you up.

“Uhm…. No?” Niki answered for you, furrowing his eyes at the blue-eyed diva.

“Then why’re you just standing there? You’re blocking my light…”

You let out a scoff at her words, feeling baffled at the thought of how insecure girls like her could have such egotistical tendencies.

“Sorry, Serenity…,” you said half-heartedly, “didn’t mean to disturb your… solo mid-break practice session...”

“Really appreciate it, leader lady,” she replied sarcastically, very intentionally bumping into your shoulder as she walked past you before stopping in her tracks, a loose copy of the stage schedule getting caught under her baby pink sneakers.

She leaned down to pick it up, examining the text before her eyes stumbled over a line of bolded words. All of this was for reasons she didn’t understand, but either way, would soon resent.

“Ugh?!!” She exclaimed with a confused scoff, “HYBE is kicking me from the show??”

Your eyes widened at her words, the furious, confused, and torn look on her face doing nothing but make Niki smirk to himself, “Serenity, I can explain—”

“And you knew about this, didn’t you?” She accused with balled fists, looking between your nervous face and Niki’s shamelessly proud one.

“I just found out today, okay? But Miss Kim specifically instructed me not to say anything about until she revealed it to you herself after practice,” you clarified with a shaky voice.

“Please,” she said with a scoff, “And what’s with the face, Nishimura Nimrod? Huh!? Your little girlfriend told you before she told me, her own band mat—”

“I didnt tell him anything!” You retorted with a slightly raised voice, cracking with nerves you couldn't keep buried anymore.

You never liked being in the hot seat unless you were sitting there with Niki, thanks to his ability to always maintain his cool under pressure...

However, for some reason, even with him next to you right now, you still felt like hurling yourself to the ground.

“You had to have told me him something, so just stop with your insistent lies, ____,” Serenity spat, poking a finger in the center of your chest. Hard.

“You couldn’t wait to get rid of me, its been all over your rotten little face ever since we got here… You’re so jealous of me and it’s honestly depressing at this point…”

Oh Serenity, you thought in your mind, if only you knew this was all brought on by yourself…

You’d had enough of her ignorant speech, holding a fierce eye contact with her while trying to conceal the tears forming behind your eyes.

The sadness growing in your heart…

“None of this was my decision, Ren, so if you have a bone to pick with someone, try taking it up with Miss Kim herself,” you said firmly, walking back a few steps in case she tried touching you again, “I'm sure she'd be more than happy to inform you on her reasons for exiling you from the main activities…”

“What’s going on you guys?” Haerin asked timidly in the midst of the chaos, having just come back from washing up in the restroom.

Serenity practically burned holes in your face with her venomous glare before turning sharply on her heel, footsteps loud and startling as she marched off the stage, murmuring a string of curses under her breath.

“Soooo,” Sunghoon started with a curious accent, “I’m usually not the best at comprehending things, but I’m assuming that whatever just happened was a lot more serious than the usual Riot Grrlz drama, correct?”

“Yeah, what's the big deal ____?,” Jade asked alongside Jake, who gave your shoulder a comforting shake.

You fought with everything in your body to not to let any tears fall...

Because in this moment, it just felt right to cry, but at the same time, was it really worth appearing weak in front of everyone?

Everyone who counted on you to remain strong?

You exhaled with a deep breath, wiping the pricks of moisture from your eyes before speaking, “Serenity won’t be performing with us for the special stage anymore… only the ending song.”

A cacophony of gasps filled the room at your words, Jungwon having picked up the loose schedule copy to analyze it for himself, the bolded words reading:

>> SERENITY TAYLOR Authorized to be PULLED from Furthering Her Performance Activities in Sight of Behavioral Decency Violations Under HYBE's Collaboration and Code of Conduct Standards

“Will she be allowed to attend the award show at least,” Heeseung inquired, not out of empathy, but curiosity as all of this was unfolding pretty fast.

“Perhaps, but for now, we can rest on the thought that we’ll have one less problem while preparing from here on out,” you answered, feeling a large hand take your hand in theirs before giving it a gentle squeeze.

Niki.

“Either way, the show must go on you guys,” he said with a deep voice, the faintest smile being on his face as he looked back at you, dark eyes sparkling with sincerity.

The stage lights flickered from ahead and above you, a key indicator that the radio would be picking up again soon, playing the instrumental to your practice track.

“Mic check everyone and it’s back to rehearsals in five,” yelled out a staff member from below the stage, the ten of you now lining up in formation while adjusting your headsets around your ears.

There was only one thought that remained in your head as the choreographer hopped up center stage to explain how the performance would accommodate for Serenity's sudden absence:

The show must go on.

🎙️For my baby, @microwvdstrawb3rri3s 💕 This is episode 3 for ya ~ Thanks for being so patient with me :3

⛦ TAGS: @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @yourmomscuntis2tighy @nikimeows @kimjiho1 @nikipedia07 @nishimuradaniel @ashgonedash @laurradoesloveu @caithefly @samhomo @rikikiynikilcykiki @3ngene--frvr @illymontyshit @filmofhybe @whoslug @nikiiitties

🎙️ Feel free to check out more fun reads on the pinned post at my home page ~

397 notes · View notes

rosemaeridream · 8 months

Text

seem to need you. || aespa - kmj

kim minjeong x reader

warnings: jealous!minjeong, extremely mild thoughts of death, oblivious!reader? (or are you?), non-idol au, college? au, mj just wants you to herself, should ryujin be a warning??, mj can be toxic about you a teenie tiny bit but she knows

A/N: HAHA ik i said jealous!minjeong but mj is a sad-jealous person it cannot be helped (she's a loser in my mind) :) sorry for the wait, i was too busy playing minecraft

Synopsis: 'Seeing you with Shin Ryujin was definitely making her mind reel.'

wordcount: 4.8k

Minjeong watched you from the other side of the room. It was murky, a haze of smoke — thick against the walls, and the bitter smell of weed permeating the air. The couch where she sat was sticky, whether it be from its leathery skin or from some kind of liquid spilt, seeping into the surface and leaving her mildly uncomfortable, she wasn’t exactly sure. Parties weren’t particularly her thing, it was always hard to breathe through the layering grey of the marijuana and the thud of the bassy speakers forced her mind to claw at itself, wanting just a moment of silence.

Nor were parties something Minjeong attended very often, preferring to stay at home playing Animal Crossing or Mario Kart with her roommate. Strawberry Milkis on the coffee table, drifting joysticks shared between the two of them as they throw playful insults into the space between them. But, (and this was a rather large condition), if you asked her to kick it at a party with her?

Only heaven knows the date and time she’d say no to you.

And so, Minjeong is at a party, despite it not being her thing, despite not being able to breathe properly, despite her tasks to do in her Animal Crossing island, despite the beginning of a pounding headache, and especially despite the fact that you had ditched her an hour earlier to talk to, (‘more like flirt with’), Shin Ryujin. She grumbles at the sight, no - the near mention of Ryujin’s name.

What did she have that Minjeong didn’t?

A driver’s licence? Pshh, she knew you liked taking public transport to places, seeing the world from the ‘ant point of view’. And she knew you liked taking the train from the student accommodation to the gardens just for her to walk around and point out flowers to you. Or rest your head on her shoulder aboard the bus home from university, practically shifting your entire weight onto her after an especially confusing lecture. So a driver’s licence wasn’t the sticky gold star that you were looking for on Ryujin’s suitor report card.

Sulking in the confines of the couch cushions, Minjeong watched as you laughed at a joke Ryujin made. The brash way your laughs pierced through the thumping beat of the music made her stomach roll with queasiness; but it wasn’t that either. She could make you laugh till the sun rose. She could make you piss your pants or laugh hard enough that a stitch would form in your side. That was easy stuff. But the way your eyes sparkled, like the glitter you applied to your upper eyelid, or the snowflakes in your beanie at last year’s Christmas party, practically confirmed to Minjeong that Ryujin had something on her.

She eyes the way your hand travels to rest on Ryujin’s collarbone, allowing you to lean part of your weight on her while you recover your breath from her joke. The girl has a smug, relaxed grin spread across her mouth and looks completely enamoured with you. Ryujin’s hair had grown out over the summer, back to the length it had been when you were freshmen; glossy black hair stark against her skin. Minjeong had considered growing her hair out too, but you’d been so adamant that her bob was perfect on her, that she’d chopped it off all over again - well, you had chopped it off. The hair had danced and twirled around her as you perfected her fringe, your eyes focused on the strands, while her own darted back and forth between the wall behind you and the shiny lip gloss spread across your bottom lip. When you had finished, she’d looked down at all the trimmings on the floor and mourned her loss, until you turned her around to look in the mirror and whisper in her ear that she looks ‘perfectly handsome’. Handsome? It wasn't usually a comment she took as a compliment. But whispered from your lips? Your voice? Her heart stammered, skipping not one but two beats, then making them up in double time.

Minjeong would compare her appearance with Ryujin more often, if not for the fact that you complimented her every day. Making sure to slip little notes into her textbooks or her pencil case scribbled with words of encouragement or doodles of puppies and rainbows. Her absolute favourites were the ones that made her cheeks sunburnt, even when she has an eight step skincare routine that most definitely includes sunscreen. They’re the ones she hides away in an old banged up shoe box she keeps tucked under her bed. The notes littered in the box like they’re littered in her mind and she pulls them out when she’s feeling stressed or anxious... or anytime you weren’t around.

Like now, Minjeong would kill to read one of your notes. She pictured your neat scrawl, fit with blue, not black – it was too harsh, pen and your name signed at the bottom.

‘Hey Jeongie !!!!! *doodle of a Maltese terrier* I know I’m not around right now, but you’re always my No. 1. No matter what, as long as the moon and stars chase the setting sun. P.s. There’s beer in your fridge.’

That’s the sort of thing you’d write, she muses, or something like that, probably less melodramatic. Maybe there is beer in the fridge of whoever’s house this is.

She rolls off the couch - it sticks to the skin of her palms like velcro - avoiding looking at how close your face is to Ryujin’s through the haze and walks into the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge. There’s a six-pack, well- five-pack of beer shoved at the back behind a cabbage. Clearly someone had tried to hide it from the non-residents of the house, but failed to realise that the shelves in the fridge were transparent and the beer cans were bright green. Minjeong shoves the cabbage to the side without care, fingers grasping one of the cans and giving it a tug to pop out of the packaging. Maybe the alcohol would offer relief from the turbulent reeling of her mind. And seeing you with Shin Ryujin was definitely making her mind reel.

Knowing she wouldn’t have the guts, nor the ability to be sloshed enough to separate the two of you, Minjeong retired back to her spot on the couch, sinking squeakily between the faux leather armrest and the still sticky cushion and nursing her beer which is dripping with condensation. The droplets wet her hands while she glowers at Ryujin; it makes her uncomfortable. She’d glower at you too if you’d just stop smiling so much.

The rest of the night continued that way. Minjeong’s eyes glued to you, your eyes glued to Ryujin. So much for enjoying spending time with you. Her eyes droop, the rest of the six-pack empty and crumpled at various spots by the foot of the couch, having snatched the rest of them after a rather tense moment when Ryujin had squeezed your arm. Maybe she was being melodramatic now. Maybe she was-

Your face appears in front of hers, happy and smiling wide. “Hey Jeongie!” You giggle.

Minjeong grimaces in response.

“Not feeling so good?” Your voice lilts with laughter and she can see you glance at the multiple cans of beer scattered around her, then to the one in her hand. “You’re a lightweight, Jeongie, you know better than to down... six? No-” Your hand lightly points as you count the rubbish around her. “Five cans of beer.”

Instead of fighting back or even giving an explanation, she just holds her tongue. There’s a trail of beer dripping down the side of the can making her hands wet and sticky. You wouldn’t understand it. You’d just get more disappointed if she told you why.

Your eyes continue to twinkle with humour as you take in her slovenly figure sunk between the couch cushions. “Come on, drunkard, let’s get you home.” You offer her your hand, dainty but there was a certain confidence and strength to them. It multiplies in front of her, your real hand is the one on the left, no, the middle, then she blinks and it’s back to one.

Minjeong wants to sulk more. Clearly she was only worth your time when on the borderline of passing out in some random person’s house, where you had taken her even though she really just wanted to be at home buried under her weighted blanket while cursing at Tom Nook’s 3D sprite. But she can’t reject your hand. Not when you’re actually paying attention to her for the first time that night. So she grumbles and whines but she slips her hand into yours and feels her butt being ripped from the mildly uncomfortable clutches of the cushions.

You walk her through the house and out to the footpath, dodging far drunker people than Minjeong, her hand clutching yours while blindly stumbling behind you. The air out here only barely smells of weed, every couple of breaths it’s strong again but then it simmers back to nothing. But with the haze of the room gone, the fog in her mind began to thicken, forcing Minjeong to concentrate on where her feet were landing. Taking in a deep breath as you pull her along, she watches the way your smile sticks to your face, even when you stumble a little. She desperately wants to know why you were here with her, instead of sucking faces with Ryujin. It makes the alcoholic fog of her brain worse. Why? Why? Why?

“What happened to Ryujin?” And it’s left her mouth before she could stop it, like a runaway train hurtling down the tracks and she doesn’t even have a stupid lever to pull to save five people instead of her own measly existence and maybe she-

“She saw you were a little bit... okay, a lot drunk and excused herself. Ryu’s really nice you know and I think you two would-...” Minjeong immediately stopped listening to you when ‘Ryu’ dropped out of your lips. Ryu. R. Y. U. A nickname. A cool nickname too, not some cutesy shit like Jeongie or Minnie or Mindoongie. If Ryujin gets a cool name like a senior or a jock, where does that leave Minjeong? Why didn’t you call her Min? And the way the corners of your lips twitched when you talked about her? And the way your eyes almost glazed over dreamily like you were imagining some intimate scene between the two of you?

“Hey! Are you even listening to me?” Your voice pierced back through her haze of nicknames. You look concerned like when you had found her crying in the bathroom over her marks in Grade 10, a mix of pity and worry, swirling in your eyes like sand in the waves crashing to the shore.

78% is perfectly acceptable, Mindoongie. You just have to study harder next time. Your hand had brushed through her hair then fallen to rest on her cheek, thumbs brushing at the stream of tears. She remembers stopping the salty trails from running down her cheeks only when she got a glimpse of your own paper crumpled in your spare hand. Red pen was harsher than blue and black, and so was the shape of ink, forming a scratchy 53%.

Minjeong gives a weak nod and gestures for you to continue with an indiscriminate nod of her head. Most of this was going in one ear and out her ass, like it always does when Ryujin was brought up.

“Anyway, she asked me to go see a movie next Friday!” You check the street right to left, then take a step out, pulling her along with you. Ryujin’s going on a date with you. Wait- Ryujin’s going on a date with you. Minjeong’s eyes bulge and she stops, standstill, in the middle of the road you were crossing. Her hand falls out of yours, despite the strong grip you kept on it. The fresh air begins to feel murky against her skin, like she was still inside the house, wisps of smoke invading her senses.

“What?!”

“Ryujin? She asked me to hang. See, you’re not even listening to me!” Your laugh fades into the background again as Minjeong mentally throws darts at a board with Ryujin’s face taped to it.

And all Minjeong can force out of her mouth is a pitiful, “Oh.”

Minjeong sits at the precipice of murder. Whether that be herself or Ryujin she hadn’t figured out yet. She also sat at the edge of your bed, legs swinging back and forth in a rhythmic motion, like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. Tick. Tick.

She always liked your room. It was cosy, walls lined with shelves lined with plushies and CD cases. There were always CDs around, one in the player you saved up for, a couple carelessly laying on the table outside their cases, the wall behind your bed was a mosaic of painted discs, a project you completed with Minjeong’s help. Today’s album on repeat was something she didn’t recognise. Her mind had glossed over when you had explained to her the genre, all she knew was it had guitars and it sounded sort of ethereal; like she was half asleep listening to a band through a wall.

You stood in the mirror, looking at yourself. This was a normal activity for the both of you. She would sit on your bed, watching you watch yourself getting prepared for a night out. Usually, she pre-prepared, showing up to your home and trudging to your room complaining that you’re forcing her to go out again. It happened like clockwork every Friday night. Always the same motions; it’s muscle memory now, the same way that Minjeong can find the right frets on her guitar she can find her place by your side.

Except this time Minjeong isn’t coming with you. This time she’ll watch you get picked up by a taller, more confident girl and then hold back the prickling sensation of tears as she traces her steps back home.

“Jeongie, do you think she’ll like this top or the other more?” You voiced your concern, holding the top you previously had on to your chest, then moving it away to show the one tight on your body. Minjeong looked up from the floor with a tired huff, studying both of the shirts. Did she really care about helping you impress stupid Ryujin?

“The one you’re wearing now is fine,” And it was. It hugged your body nicely, highlighting your figure rather than hiding it like the other one would. Minjeong traced the outline of your chest, naturally following it to the small amount of cleavage the shirt created before removing her eyes and focusing on the top in your hands. “It’d go nicely with that necklace I got you last year.”

You twirled to gaze in the mirror again, standing tall and checking how you look from various angles. “Mmh, I don’t know. Isn’t it too much?” Your eyes find hers in the mirror and she just lifts her shoulders in a lazy shrug.

“If you like her then it shouldn’t be too much.” Minjeong’s voice is small and it twists in an unfamiliar way. It slides through a couple tones before landing on nonchalant. “And you’ll be wearing a jacket, the temperature drops after six.”

She hears an amused chuckle from you, looks to see the corners of your mouth twitching ever so slightly and Minjeong feels her stomach clench again. “You take care of me so well, Minnie.”.

Her lips slip under her teeth as she chews on them, an anxious habit she’s never been able to kick. “You’re my best friend.” And the answer slips out of her grasp again, much before she was able to stop it; sticking to her mouth like the strong taste of alcohol, everlasting and unpalatable.

Staring at the floor, she holds back another set of jumbled thoughts she’d regret. She already wanted to take back these words, adding more would just complicate things. And they were true too. What were you if not her best friend?

Your eyes meet through the mirror again and Minjeong rises from the bed, padding over to you, her red socks muffling her footsteps on your bedroom floor. The display of your CD player adds a number as the next song starts to play. Still the layered guitars, still the gritty, hazy sound. She cocks her head as she analyses your outfit. “The black denim jacket.” She suggests with a flash of her eyes, looking up and down.

Minjeong reaches under, past your body, hand colliding with one of your jewellery boxers on your vanity before finding the necklace she’d gifted you the year before. It was sterling silver; dainty, but not flashy. At the end of the chain was a hollow star embedded with tiny moonstones that glittered in the light of your room. The necklace had barely even dented her bank account, having impulsively bought it from a market, two weeks before your birthday. It reminded her of you, the glitter akin to the sparkle in your eyes when you smiled.

The chain was freezing in her hands, colder than the air in the room. She steps behind you, lifting her arms to move the necklace over your head. The movement was slow, deliberate, her breaths sending tingles up your ear. Notes of citrus and lavender wafted over your shoulder as her scent surrounded you. She wanted to hold the chain in her hand, warm it up so that the ice of the silver wouldn’t make you gasp when it laid against the skin of your collar, but there wasn’t time for that. Ryujin would call, or text, or honk the horn from her stupid Mustang, and you wouldn’t be with her anymore. Instead she moves your hair over your shoulder, out of the way of her workspace.

Minjeong keeps her eyes away from your gaze, as she pulls the necklace around your neck. Letting out a small gasp when the chain cascades against your skin, you leant back into her body, just an inch. It slithered down to your cleavage then back up as she brought the clasp closer to her eyes to fiddle. The hook and loop was small and her hands were clammy enough that they slid and wiggled through her fingers, making it harder than necessary for her to catch the hook. The hairs on the nape of your neck rise a little out of the corner of her eye and she has to force herself to ignore it otherwise she’d ask you to stay.

She’d blurt it out. Don’t go. Stay. Please, with me? You’d turn and give her the smile she always gets. The one when she picks you up after university classes or when she buys you ice cream, even when you bugged her all day. You’d nod your head, wrap your arms around her waist – the smile still dancing on your lips, and press your forehead against hers. It would be a light touch, something only for her to experience. The music floating about the room would switch to something slower, softer, matching her lovesick expression. Your breath would puff against her lips as you accepted her request.

The hook finds the loop and Minjeong takes two small steps away from you. Enough space for her to breathe, but close enough that she could still feel your presence. Stay. She watches you in the mirror, the fond manner in which your fingers brush at the star before curling around to hold it. Like you were sentimental. Like you wanted her the same way she wan-

Your phone chimes and she takes another step back. Minjeong can feel a tugging in her stomach, rising to her chest and clawing up her throat. It’s like she’s being dragged away from you and she’s desperately scrabbling, her nails digging into the floorboards, filling with dirt and grime. You move across your room to pluck your phone from your nightstand, looking down at the bright screen. She knows it’s a picture of the two of you on the lock screen. Happy smiles staring up at you from behind the obstruction of her text. “I have to go now Jeongie. Ryujin’s about to pull up.”

Minjeong swallows the lump in her throat and watches as you carelessly throw your phone onto the bed then drift about your room, gathering the last of your accessories. Check your earrings, rings, look yourself over in the mirror, pack your ID into your handbag. I want you to stay with me.

You don’t even spare her a glance.

Time seems to slow down as she chews on her lip. It wasn’t fair. What did Ryujin have that she didn’t? The room plunges into silence as you eject the CD that was playing. It was too empty now but she didn’t have the guts to fill the silence with words.

Minjeong didn’t have the guts that Ryujin did and she never would.

Staring at your back walking out of your bedroom and towards the front door was all she would be able to do. She didn’t have the guts to stop you.

Your phone chimes again, this time louder in the now silent room. You don’t walk over, instead you vaguely make a motion for Minjeong to read it out to you instead. It’s a normalcy between the two of you, she often allowed you to read her texts too. Everything was shared, it was within the boundaries you had placed years ago. Maybe you didn’t even have boundaries together anymore. She reaches for your phone with clumsy fingers, one leg on your bed the other rooted to the floor.

The new notification blocked her vision of your lock screen. A pesky little notification. But, she was right; the wallpaper was the two of you smiling into the camera. And, she was right. It was her text message. Minjeong can’t stomach reading the text, nor does she even try. Instead she studies the picture behind the notification, swiping down to get rid of it. The two of you were at a fair, flowers in your hair with your hands wrapped around her shoulders, and hers around your waist. She wanted that back. She wanted you to stay with her. You were her best friend, isn’t she more important than some girl?

“Minjeongie? Everything alright?” She grunts and swipes the notification back into view.

“Ryujin’s two blocks away.”

Minjeong gets up and puts your phone in your hand. The action is more aggressive than necessary and it creates a little slap noise when the silicon of your phone case meets your skin. You look back at her with a slightly surprised expression, finally perhaps picking up on her annoyance for the other girl.

“What‘s wrong?” You mutter, your voice annoying Minjeong; it’s worried and she hates it. She hates it all.

“Nothing. Enjoy your night with Ryujin.”

You pause at her words, maybe she’s said too much. She trudges over to your bed and falls on it, stomach first. She can feel your eyes burning to the back of her hair. Her hair that you cut. That you called handsome. Handsomely perfect. Perfectly handsome.

Fuck you.

And fuck Shin Ryujin.

She doesn’t however hear your footsteps, and only notices your presence when there’s a dip in the bed and the sheets under her are tugged taut, making an uncomfortable bunching near her hip. She ignores it, like she ignores you.

“Jeongie, come on, you tell me everything. Anything. What’s up? Do you have an exam soon that’s stressing you out?” Your hand clasps her shoulder, then gently runs through her hair. From her scalp down to the ends and back through it all again. Her head tingles pleasantly and it takes all her willpower to continue to stay angry with you.

And stay angry with Shin-fucking-Ryujin. Who’s probably waiting outside in her dumb Mustang right now. She would bet $100 that it doesn’t even have seatbelts, and you were all about safety. Ryujin has nothing on her.

The more she thinks about the colour of the Mustang matching your purse or the way you had dreamily told her about your date or the way Ryujin pushed hair behind your ear at the party, the more Minjeong seethed in anger. It bubbled up from inside, heating up her skin and making her flush a sweaty, sticky red. They multiply and bond and break until her mouth opens and her voice splits in a bratty way.

“I bet Ryujin’s hot bod will keep you warm tonight.”

Instantly, your calming petting stops. Minjeong deflates, too scared to look over her shoulder and into your eyes. She just said something beyond stupid, probably something that didn’t even make sense. And she said it with the most clearly jealous tone possible. Hot headed and grouchy and stupid Minjeong.

The sound of laughter stops her thoughts in their tracks. It’s quiet but she’s completely sure it’s a laugh. So she looks over her shoulder and meets eyes with you. They’re crinkled into crescents, the glimmer still present, the one that gleams like your necklace. And the eye contact breaks when you can’t hold back another laugh. It’s pretty, however pretty a laugh could ever be, but then again, Minjeong’s whipped for you.

“Ryujin’s hot bod?”

Another laugh.

“Minjeong, are you jealous?”

Minjeong reddens and buries her head back into your pillows. She knows you’ll take it as a yes. You've always been able to read her well, sometimes even noticing her mood swinging before she can. Knowing she's already been caught in the deep, deep hole she's pre-dug for herself over the past couple months with her feelings, she mutters into the pillow. "I don't like her. She's not-"

She stops herself before saying another thing that she can't take back. It's not right for her to dictate your emotions and your relationships and she knows it. But the desperate feeling clawing at her flares up again when your phone chimes its reminder notification. Oh fuck it, can’t make it worse than it already is. And so she says the words she had been wanting to say since she trod into your room.

Well, sorta.

“If I asked you to stay, what would you do?” Her words are still muffled into the pillow, half-sure of themselves. She can’t just ask you to stay, at least not straightforwardly. If she asks and you don’t want to stay then... then what?

You don’t respond immediately, but your caresses start up again, and Minjeong doesn’t know whether it’s a negative response or not. The delicateness of your fingers and the rhythm in which your movements restarted themselves keep her from bursting out into tears. Four counts downwards, then two for replacing your hand at her scalp, then another four, then another two then...

“Can you sit up? I don’t like it when you mope into my pillows.” She knows it’s a joke, the tone of your voice light, infused with a hint of jest, but it makes her stress out more. Minjeong wanted to hide from you, melt into the mattress and start a new life in her pillowy prison. But she also wants you to stay, so badly.

And that’s what pushes her to sit up, slightly ungracefully, with the determination to look into your eyes, seeing nothing but affection swimming in there. A tiny spark of hope alights in her chest and swallows, ready for your words.

You hesitate a moment more before letting go of your perfect posture and relaxing under her gaze. She always loved to see you this way, a level of comfort and familiarity put back into place. When the moment of hesitation passes and you take a final breath in, the words finally hit her ears.

“Minjeong, I like her but she’s not you.”

She’s not you.

Something takes over Minjeong, maybe the look in your eyes or the way your inflection changes when you talk about her and without a beat, she smashes her lips into yours. She’s so sick of being a coward, not having the guts. It’s about time she got what she wanted, you. Your lip gloss makes it sticky but she’s not uncomfortable, in fact, the subtle taste of strawberries made her want more, and you weren’t pulling away, so neither would she.

Your phone chimes once more in the silence. Minjeong knows it’s Ryujin, but she doesn’t really care about her anymore. A lovesick grin spreads across her face, invading her eyes and creating smile lines in the corner of her eyes. It's her forehead resting against yours and as much as she wants to push away the feeling of accomplishment, her competitive streak is too strong; she's won.

“You should get that.”

Her lips brush your's as you gently push her down on your bed.

“Five more minutes, I'm staying here with you.”

A/N: fun fact! i rewrote the ending like 6 times (once was spicier sorry lol) and i still don't like it but i don't want this to haunt me anymore so :)

#!! dreamy’s pieces #aespa #winter x reader #kim minjeong x reader #kim minjeong #kpop oneshots #kpop imagines #idol x reader #kpop x reader #aespa imagines #aespa x reader #aespa winter #aespa winter x reader

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