*HITCHED BREATING

*kang seulgi, our resident atrocity but she supposes no one is complaining

[atrophist-blog]

throat: fisted,

*---

He destroys better without fire, after all.

Umma gave birth to a boy that swallowed the knife and made it his tongue, and she raised him into a beast that grew his teeth into blades, too.

His spherical silence breaks when she settles on the stool next to his. His gaze is on the rust of his drink. Takes in another mouthful; he is not a design of cordiality when it’s uncalled for.

[247seulgi-blog]

* oh sehun exists in that bar, in that very seat. and oh, how fucking dare he? 

bars aren’t really her idea of a fun time. but then again, the things that get her going are superficial giggles and the belief that she’s slipping into some infatuation (and into another man’s pants in a kiss and sealing it away in her bedsheets). 

liquor doesn’t come up as much of a fancy either, she is in the least control of her antics then. it’s the blurring visions and the recklessness of the dumbing alcohol that makes her teeter in the grasp of a wallet or back to her two room apartment.

but oh sehun is there, in his internationally acclaimed fame and face, just sitting there. and vengeance (to be melodramatic) or an irritant to her line of sight begs her face to contort. it’s a sneer almost. 

but she doesn’t sneer, sweet, pretty girls like her don’t sneer. 

seulgi is ‘virginal’, her genetic paleness and eye smiles deludes not only the men she lays a hand on but herself. she provokes carnal desire even in the deepest and most modest of pockets, a simple oh sehun isn’t a hinderance, but a conquest that once existed and dares to ignite now.

she exists to knock men to their knees and cower in her brilliance, her devil says (the one that sits on her left shoulder). the angel on her right shoulder doesn’t appear -- it’s been long gone for a while. 

pride and ego, as if she is a male in the core of herself her delicate facade only exists to conquer. seulgi thinks as she saunters over, feigning some confidence and graces the stool with an ass men groan for a glance. and yet, her devil asks:  ‘wasn’t oh sehun the one who even gave her confidence in the first place?’ 

-- well fuck. 

and the pin drops, so does the petty facade (seulgi wants to laugh, but if she does it’ll hit her that it’s her being pitiful). “so, you’re in seoul, here to terrorise us again with that sick mind and dirty mouth now are we?” 

cheongnam flashes almost immediately, how fucking cliche. and memories of flushed cheeks and aimless confessions that only end up tugging at her heart strings and not his. the rushing atrocity makes her want to clamp up and apologise for such biting remarks. 

because she’s sitting there on that stool, next to him in her last season louboutins, and he is still imperially male and she it makes her ineptly female.  

[247seulgi-blog]

*ELUSIVE PERSUASIONS

@247youngjae​

* she wants to be considered pretty, lovely and all-in-all the apple of every man’s eye (apple of every moneyed man anyways). she parades in love and knowing that the attention, fulfilment, and even the mere thought of cash showered onto her pretty little head is enough to get her going. seulgi thrives on it of course, she only expects the other halves (aka: the spending half/ the moneyed half/ the whipped half), to follow along as well. 

follow along, no questions asked and drooling for her. 

it’s usually the case and yet here she is. seulgi is lucid, even transparent in her attempts and drawls for his attention, hopefully calling at a sane spec of lust in a man’s testosterone. hints of something she can’t shake off, seulgi knows it. 

after years and years of this, it’s a sixth sense, natural jolt in her system per se. but she can sense, yes, she can sense it drumming in her veins or maybe it is aching in the marrow of her bones. choi youngjae was playing a game, and she’s not sure if she likes it or not. because, after all, seulgi is the one who gets to leave them in the dust. 

it’s simply the laws of nature, no? 

in the quaint coffee shop they throw flirty gazes towards each other in an almost a hostile way, at each others throats through their gazes and metaphorically. “now why should i? what’s in it for me?” they taunt each other in the minutes they’ve shared, similar to of how a dog chases the cat. except she doesn’t know who is chasing who, and she’s not supposed to have a power struggle.

(but they exude sexual tension and undeniable -- attraction to say the least.) 

[marxna-deactivated20160319]

get in bitch, were going shopping. // ks+yb

&. 247seulgi

bora had many activities she loved to participate in, including ones where others were required as well. one of these others, damed kang seulgi often tagged along because a.) she and bora had more in common then they knew and b.) bora simply liked her. she was brash, spoke her mind, and didn’t take shit from anyone. traits the blonde admired, and kept her entertained. so she drives her red porsche through the busy streets, heading in the direction of her friends home, music moderately loud, and a smile on her scarlet lips.

pulling up against the sidewalk, she digs out her phone from her pocket and sends a swift text to the intended.

[ ✉️ seulgi 👑 ] hey bitch 💕 get your ass out here were going on a well deserved shopping trip, I need you to tell me if my ass looks good. 💋

[247seulgi-blog]

* shopping, right, yes, shopping. something in which the kindly named gold digger finds some sort of materialistic lust to fawn over. so yes, shopping, especially with yoon bora was a delight in itself. entertaining and the rush of (careless) expenditures does get a girl going, does it not?   

they both lacked an orthodox, good nature set of morals and preferred the lavish wrong-doings in return for illicit happiness. that’s girls for you dear men, well, stereotypical socialite women anyways. they’ve always got their panties in a  twist for some good millions and no-goods. 

and so, in receiving the devils letter in a form of a text message, the pale purity can only reply (tainting herself along with it): 

< *yoon bora > fucking hell, fine. but you gotta watch out for my ass too, i didn’t work for this butt for nothing

swiftly along, phone in hand and keys jiggling. scampering from her banjeom empire, she finds the one and only (devil’s advocate), yoon bora. “here to drag me around to stare at your ass again? get over yourself.” of course this is all said with a grin to her lips and a fondness in her yes. seulgi always gets some sort of rush with other women, perhaps she lacked the company of most but hey, there is no complaint is there? 

[247jonghyun-deactivated20160303]

&; layers. kjh + ksg

*---

( she’s special in ways he can’t bring himself to admit, special in the kind of thought that if it wasn’t for her maybe he would’ve been dead and people would’ve already moved on. so he cherishes her smile and indulges in her voice and there’s nothing romantic in that part. there’s only need. only nooks and crannies that yearn to be filled. )

his hand lingers before he peels himself apart from her and leaves only the view of a painting, modern and sleek and the kind she once said she had always dreamed of receiving. jonghyun can’t find the strength in him to wait for her reaction before he speaks, excitement leaking through, “david hockney.” his voice gets lost somewhere in the echo of the walls, when he slides a hand across her shoulder to urge her towards it, “happy birthday, seulgi.”

[247seulgi-blog]

* jonghyun looks like and angel, sings like an angel and talks lovely conversation like an angel. he’s blissful, with that striking jawline and sweet tone reminiscent of a honey vocal singer chimes with. there was something dreamy, a tinge of something covered in a half-lucid state that grows in seulgi’s girlish chest. 

adoration was it? maybe, she’s always had a knack for getting breathless over boys that make her think of dreams and lust for feet tangling and innocent cajoling that’s almost pure. emphasis on pure. 

even if their meeting was a scenario of constant shouts of his name and the sensation of tears battering down on her psyche. that voice, once charmed by the gods with lyrical finesse and blush of sweetness still was flippant in her heart. 

hand in hers, sight gone black there is a pink twinge on her cheeks, it’s almost naughty, the situation. it’s not like seulgi is very much pure herself. seulgi loves it, the thrill sedates her and the slight pining for fluttering adorations for each other is entirely too transparent. they get each other to knock at the backs of their knees and the pumping organ in their chest to pulse and yet they still manage to boil this stirring in the air as platonic. they’re exciting, to say the least. 

his hands no longer in hers and all said thoughts slipped out of the window and selfishly drawn through the wind. seulgi’s heart, still raw, red and beating. i thumps, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, all too quickly, that voice and the untying to the blindfold. 

only surprises and men like kim jonghyun can get her going like this. 

the familiarity of the solid colour and the suntan afterglow of los angeles shaded on the hues of the colour only make her gasp. heart searing and the muscles on her face work on their own, stretching in wonder. “fuck off kim jonghyun.” breathy, kang seulgi is always breathy with him. when his hand slides against the planes of her back and the little awestruck fawn at the 2d mild pop art extravaganza tore at her chest. 

“kim j-jonghyun,” shaky. “oh my,” shaky again, she’s twenty two now and she still can’t keep a handle on her fluttering heart beating on as if she was a coy elementary school girl. “you didn’t have to.” legs stared, almost leaping toward the painting. “this isn’t real.” escapes under her breath, chest bearing a bubbling affection. 

seulgi turns her head. 

and she’s never looked at kim jonghyun like she has now. like a gatsby to her daisy, they were flawed, overwhelmingly fitting and very much not made for each other. but still-- still, she looks at him with a level of devotion unlike the others. 

and she is rendered into a girl, wispy and (foolishly) besotted with. 

but of course that’s all momentarily, seulgi plays her part (too well). 

[247seulgi-blog]

* GRIT TEETH

[247jinri-blog]

*---

so what use was trying to calm yourself down when the other was a wretched concubine who still failed, after all these years, to learn their place? just like the mean girls movie, (but not in her imagination this time) jinri did something she’d been wanting to do for a long time, she let her instincts loose and the hand holding her glass loose with it.

a snap of a wrist. that’s all it was. that’s all it took before the crimson red wine from jinri’s glass made its journey to slap seulgi on the face like she deserved, (and asked for, quite frankly) dripping down her now not-so-pretty face. 

“oops, my hand slipped. you were saying?”

[247seulgi-blog]

* choi jinri, choi jinri, where does one begin? if she could try, if seulgi really put in the effort and bust a sweat with it the best way she could put her finger on the incomprehensible mishap of this apparent ‘queen’ choi jinri was perhaps an unpopular thought. but you see, kang seulgi doesn’t think like the mundane because she very much is not, don’t you agree? 

choi jinri was a pretentious uppity queen bitch with a stick too far up her ass (and perhaps missy. queen probably likes it up there, from the looks of her irritation). 

irrelevance, redundancy yadda yadda you know, the usual petrifying ‘abhorations’ in this petty reunion. 

and speaking of petty, seulgi almost wants to laugh, her chest begging to bloom with a mocking laugh, taut with disgust (as always, for her dear queen jinri).  petty, petty and just petty! tossing her drink at her and a coy gasp of exasperation and disbelief follows. her gorgeous face drenched, smells like burgundy -- a lot. (oh how the the gasps of attention that follow almost wrings the pathetic event off her mind, but only a mere moment.)

how cliche. 

eyes shut, sputtering the pungent wine from her lips and a hand slowly grasping a napkin to dab on that poor, poor lovely face. she won’t give choi jinri the satisfaction of a reaction, seulgi knows better, after all she’s smarter and doesn’t stoop so low to humiliate others. no, she stands on their shoulders and weighs them down to sink of course. 

“i was saying,” sighing momentarily, cleaning up the trivialness off her face. “that i don’t have to stoop so low and cliche to bring a girl down. didn’t know the queen bitch liked to get her hands dirty.” surely, she should know better. but words process better than the mouth and seulgi refuses to let her anger show. 

and her image is to be pretty, lovable and dreamy. not angry, fuming and feral like jinri. 

[247seulgi-blog]

*REPETITION

@247taemin

* edge art gallery, to put it best, is seulgi’s playpen. laden with figures with money who scoring a yearly salary of delicious looking numbers. specifically men too, might she add, has a good row with their numbers too. and her assumptions aren’t incorrect -- men in overpriced blazers and egyptian cotton sauntering round the gallery only come to look at art to buy art. 

men who can afford the overpriced contemporary pieces (and appreciate them, of course, she mustn’t leave that detail out). receptionist isn’t too much of a flashy, get-go, high salary job but the men with high up exec. positions in samsung, hyundai, kitec blah, blah, blah, keeps her head afloat well and good. 

call her gold digger, as if that’s a new one she hasn’t heard. 

glass door swings open and padded footsteps of (probably expensive) oxfords make their echoes sound through the gallery. an eye flashes up, seulgi’s got to keep tabs on prospective clients, that’s her job isn’t it? 

decked in well-dressed attire, she grimaces. lee taemin, in his glory, as if she could get away from him. (actually no, as if he had the power to get away from her, the last she remembered she still had him angry, swooning and heaving for sex.) 

apparently he’s picked himself up, and made a name for himself. 

and gosh, she does likes boys who have a branded name, that’s her type anyways. 

“lee taemin? oh my, it really is you.” the cliched receptionist pencil skirt doing her favours (she knows it after bumping some cute songwriter eyeing her down). the grimace, is replaced with a jarring smile, a bit too wide and forcefully stretched but nonetheless, still as gorgeous as ever. that’s kang seulgi for you.

click, click, click. goes her heels and their proximity is a little familiar. (seulgi remembers back in the day this closeness would drive their hormones screaming for... well, you know.) “i guess you can’t get enough of me can you?” 

she won’t be surprised if he came back, drooling after her cute extortion tactics. little boys love playing tag, even when they keep losing. maybe it’s an ego thing, not like seulgi minds, taemin is cute so she doesn’t mind going for another run. (she likes being all sweaty and huffy with taem.) 

[247jungmin]

sweetness ;; ksg + kjm

[247jungmin]

*---

putting the finishing touches on his outfit, he checks his phone again for her text and feels the surge of nervousness way away at him again as the time winds down. the monotonous ticking of the clock against his wall was only a minor distraction from his thoughts, memorizing the pace as he counted down each second slowly. he isn’t sure how long he’s been sitting there before the next text comes in and he’s quick to grab his keys and the small bouquet of roses off to the side before he heads downstairs.

a few quick rasps against the door and he’s waiting quietly, one hand tucked behind his back to conceal the gift and a subdued smile on his face; the anxiousness surfacing once again with each second passed until he’s faced with her saccharine smile once more.

[247seulgi-blog]

* she doesn’t owe him anything. but the tug at her lips and the ecstatic race of her heart (beating almost a bit too fast, her blood rushing and her heart throbbing as if she’s on some high). maybe the sensation come about her were the recurring flimsy flashes of memories. overly wide open laughs, hand holding and footsie in maths class pounds in her mind sweetly. to think that cheongnam should be buried in itself, rotting under the earth’s crust never to come back. 

she’d prefer it that way than have her heart prancing on a drugged up trance. it makes everything else she does much harder, her heart drumming in an inconceivable pace and stomach heavy with an unplaceable guilt. especially when he flatters her and the guilt sinks deeper and her want is etched harder into her skin. 

back then she would’ve played naive and didn’t put a title to it, but looking at it now, seulgi probably layered false pretences for lying about (the very sacred), love.

not that is existed, necessarily. maybe in another form it erupted in her chest. 

<txt:kim jungmin~~*> of course you can. i’ll be here waiting... and i can barely wait

‘and i can barely wait’ is an extra push, just to get jungmin to perk up and dash to his wardrobe a little quicker. not that she’s lying, she can barely keep her heart from beating at her in a normal pace. seulgi doesn’t owe him anything, but she thinks of owning the world and illicit adventures on the lavish side with him. kim jungmin begged a reminiscent form of wanderlust not only upon the world, but wanderlust for him. 

she wants every bit of him, and doubts she’ll ever give it back.  

a sharp intake of breath comes and the excitement is doubled, some shot of adrenaline seeps into her without warning. it’s uncalled for, but seulgi knows that her physicality begs for kim jungmin without a shadow of a doubt. that it acts on it own accord for him and even the thought, the thought has the chemicals in her mind dancing in delight. cheongnam days where over, mentally, though, it stays in her head, never to rot but waiting to keep living. 

arriving rather quickly, her heart jumps drastically and an insecurity fixates itself momentarily. feet light, her miniskirt flaring at her skips to the door. an overexcitement hitching in her throat. (almost) throwing herself to the door, her hand on the door knob and head leaning towards the peep hole and seulgi sucks in another breath. at least she’s got a splendid miniskirt on cause, the sigh before her almost puts her lack of self-groom into shame. 

there he is. kim jungmin, as handsome as she remembers. 

she shudders the hitched breath lips tugging into a grin. opening the door she’s greeted with the face that drives her mind back to her seventeen year old state. giggling and very much lustrous under the sheets whimpering moans and ignorant ‘i love you’s’. seeing him again, that blessed sun-kissed skin (as gorgeous as she left it) and that face. that face, oh-how it made her think of hollywood and beverly hills and everything absolutely lush. 

kim jungmin was absolutely lush. and she had no words for it. “h-hey jungmin.” she’s breathy as always, on the naive side and blushing in a terrible flustered state. seulgi should stop acting like a fool before it gets the better of her. her smile widening even more, that face like she’s swooned for in movies before her. “h-how are you?” 

but hey, boys love it when she’s a little lost and frazzled. 

[247seulgi-blog]

*SLEEP SOUND

[247jh-blog]

*---

clad in sweatpants and a loose hoodie, the look is made complete with sweaty hair and a confused expression, hoseok looking downright classy as as he cracks open the door just enough to look down at his visitor. “what is it?” he asks, having to raise his voice to be heard over the thumping bass and drone of drake’s rap. the look on her face makes him a little bit afraid, to be honest, so after a brief pause he starts to close the door again, squinting. “uhh… sorry, i’m busy. please go away.”

[247seulgi-blog]

* patience (apparently, is said a virtue) is something the pretty pale wonder from banjeom two o five lacks very much in (in fact she has none). foot tapping, index tapping her elbow. every half a second wasted behind the doors of this fool’s apartment is valuable time she can’t afford to spend scoffing at the blaring hip hop on the other side of the door. 

it was more than stupid to get herself here and she’s already driven up the wall angry, it’s not like patience is her strong suit anyways. 

and finally, with much rage starting to simmer in her arteries, her poor ears damaged by such obtrusive volumes, the door opens. and gee-whiz! sweating and in horrifying style, she swears there is no way she could live in the same proximity-- no, building, as this being. men with a lack of class are very much not her type, he smells with a lack of financials anyways. 

this fool dares not to turn off the music even when greeting a visitor, a sneer is dying to make it’s way to scrunch the left side of her nose. “turn off your music.” arms from it’s crossed state, spread out in exasperation, having to shout over the too-loud music that shouldn’t have been on at such an hour. “are you a fucking idiot?” snapping isn’t very pretty on her either, but she’s doing the whole banjeom complex a favour. 

seulgi, your angel in disguise, at your service. 

and he fucking dares to shut the door. 

hand slapping the door, eyes jolting itself form a sluggish slumber, tongue dying to spit poison. it’s an ungodly hour in the morning, this atrocious monstrosity only deserves this, at the very least. “i don’t fucking care if you’re busy, don’t you dare shut the door on me when you’re bothering the many other residents who pay to have comfort when they sleep.” at the very least, yes. and christ, she asks for so little, does she not? 

[247seulgi-blog]

Who's your best friend?

the first thing that comes into her head at the throttling question is: ‘well,  that’s a rather stupid question’. still, the nature of such a question tugs the side of her lips, a hint of wickedness graciously dancing on her pink oh-so-desirable lips. someone is eager to cause a stir in the suffocating hellish concoction of socialites she once knew. the thought of it makes her want to grin. 

but hey, if people enjoy something juicy (which these dolts always do, see: deadlock), she’ll give them something to feed their starving barbaric quench for juice. “if you idiots love to call me gold digger so much, then i suppose it’s got to be my sugar daddies huh?” drama, drama, drama. that’ll really please these fickle fools, that’s what they want to hear, don’t they?

there you go, make what you want with her lack of discretion and too much of her sarcasm. 

[247seulgi-blog]

* STUDDED

[247baekhyun-deactivated20160328]

*---

baekhyun smiles, thanks him, and then steers seulgi away. “we’re filming a fight scene next,” he tells her, with the excitement of a little boy. “i get attacked in my home—here it is—” he gestures at the biggest set there; it’s a living room, one he’s used as a home away from home for the past few days. “you wanna stay and watch for a bit? you’ll get to see me kick ass.” and who doesn’t want to see that, really?

[247seulgi-blog]

* there is a hitch in her that she acknowledges. that she knows that she’s feeding some celebrity fool’s ego in order to float in (too much) satisfaction. seulgi doesn’t want to let him devour the bait, flinging herself around like prey but as always, as god damn always, kang seulgi lets the brace around her heart to loosen in embracing others. 

others with assets, of course (that’s kang seulgi’s type). 

yes, there is a sense of a flutter in her heart. a shared past and all those unbearable palpitations. yes, they do indeed exist. -- and maybe, that’s why it still drums an ‘a-okay’ from her surprisingly existing morality. plus, how could she reject him when a shudder haunts her in the marrow of her bones. things in the past, the ones which gets her breathing constricted do that to her. 

the girl swears she is over that ‘stupid shit’ but she never grew out of it, still living very much in it. really, how could she? when she feels a nudge and a director flashes in her eyesight. her chest roaring, in milliseconds and pound and sound like cameras clicking. (it’s an infinite number of cameras, if you’re asking).  flippant with joy, byun baekhyun has his ways. jutting a hand out for a shake, mesmerised bye the tinted hues and blurs of fame, a smile that forces her to intake a large breath. 

the ‘surrealnest’ of it all. 

maybe it’s the way byun baekhyun phrases his words or slightly the bend that he does to prove a reminiscent masculinity to his height. (she’s always been short anyways). 

big sets, flashy sets, large budget, flashy expenditure. it drives her wild. “you know i’d love to watch mister. south korea drive me wild and swooning.” -- no. she’d be the one who’d make him swoon but in the matter of distractions and minuscule games she tests her resilience with, it’s not worth the resistance. “woo me byun baek.” retreating to the said set, jaw set tight with an uncharacteristic anxiety and anticipation. at the end of the day, the act of ‘falling for it’ is her own claim to fame. 

[247seulgi-blog]

*MACHINE GUN

@247xjongsuk

* as per usual, kang seulgi finds herself loitering with her long lashes and new miniskirt (that holds in all-too-right places) in the ever so popular music house of KS entertainment. it is no surprise, as always. seulgi always finds herself in the hands of fame (she only deserves so much anyways). the household that contains the boom of k-wave entices her heart, a heart in a cage of a woman who dreams a lot, cowers a lot in greed for the spotlight and adorations. there is something in the brand name that spurs like butterflies within her. the greedy beauty, skirt flaring and hair tousling, wonders with a joyous awe. 

childish dreams go to live and waste here, but she thrives off it. somewhere, it pulses in her lusting, immature heart. 

it’s all too pleasant and when the thought strikes, ugly in it’s physical form tramples into her daze. turns out the saying: ‘good things don’t last forever’ really applies. 

the said horror, the ever so famous lee jongsuk, mr.’i leave hearts on the ground my love is a weapon. and yes, i use it well’ cliche curses her with looks that are said to match no one. a vile creature, his mind fleshy with nothing but spewing contagious stupidity still stirs a want in her. seulgi is shamelesslyand very much unsurprisingly-- mouth dry for his gaze. 

as always, seulgi plays it cool. heart stuttering to a lax ba-bump. “i’ve got a gun for a mouth and a bullet with your name on it.” she is here for herself and only herself. 

not a petty idol who juts his sex around like a toy, seulgi (likes to think she’s) a big girl now. 

[ladywarpaint]

Visit Original Link

[247avery]

HANDS TO MYSELF

*---

“let’s kiss.” 

the curve of her lips tell a story, finishing off wordlessly what her voice failed to fill in.

let’s kiss like before– her head in her lap, hidden within aisles and aisles deep in the school library. lips against lips, fingers threading through soft locks and heart pounding in unison.

“let’s do it again.”

like before.

[247seulgi-blog]

* avery is deliciously attractive. maybe it was the thick plump of her pale thighs that made hers squirm and clench immediately at the thought and momentarily. girls were always so pretty and sexy in their pale purity (much like seulgi’s too). avery and seulgi. it’s something like that, and it’s been happening in periodic phases, and she is supposed to be a man’s sweet girl but the thought of soft, well shaven legs against hers echoes better in her body. 

no, not the body, it’s the hormones calling. 

junior year was it? they’d spend time together and seulgi won’t lie, she’s been baiting her chances with the other sex (because you never know, it may come in handy one day). -- “avery.” she replies with the intent of allure, she’s not subtle in her subtle advances (if that makes any sense). 

and looking at her now, in such feminine intimacy of ‘supposed’ friendship seulgi’s throat dries only slightly. avery’s round face and glittering eyes that yell innocence has her mind swirling. drunk on some sort of desire (which is lust, seulgi later realised), chest heavy with a light curiosity. 

avery’s perfume or shampoo or body wash or all of it always smelled so, so good. 

and seulgi wants to smell more of it. “avery.” sounds from her lips again, smirk tugging at the end of her lips quickly, the thought of avery’s plush thighs beg at her thighs to squeeze. like a magnet she automatically is magnetised towards her, hovering over slightly for a breath -- the surreal effect of avery, works magic on her rushing blood. 

she says they should kiss, again. magically, her tongue drying, chest heaving, seulgi wanting. 

avery’s plush thighs, seulgi’s thighs hints at a need for friction. the soft mounds of her chest and dreamy moans, seulgi’s thighs clench, again. -- and again, and again. and yes, they should kiss. 

again. 

it’s junior year and seulgi’s heart does a double take at the inhalation of avery and shamelessly quickly finds her soft lips. she could do this again and again and again. it’s light presses but seulgi doesn’t plan on letting go anytime soon. and cue the fireworks to explode, a hot summer’s ecstasy explodes again. and again and again... 

[247seulgi-blog]

* VIGNETTE

[247myungsoo-deactivated20160312]

*---

“get back to your work, i didn’t come here to waste time. unless you’re feeling unwell, in which case you have to tell me.” as his words came to an end, his gadget was once more brought in front of his eye, ready to snap a few pictures despite seulgi suddenly acting unprofessional. undoubtedly, the scene was quite amusing, but at the same time, irritating. wasting time trying to figure out a girl was useless, which was why, getting her to confess her state right away was the only good idea.  staying here, in front of her, for ages, was not his plan for the weekend.

[247seulgi-blog]

* even in her moment of weakness, despite it being just a flimsy string of it, he catches it, grips it tight and dares not to let go. that prick. 

and he’s revelling in this sort of misery of her insecurity but she grits her teeth, determination and some yearn to simply prove him fucking wrong envelops her quickly. myungsoo is snide and seulgi’s pride chars slightly. “don’t worry about me.” a competitiveness sounds through her teeth, saliva tasting slightly sour. she’d continue with a ‘go back to holding your front with your camera.’ but she’s here to be a loyal pup -- just for kicks and a good face like myungsoo’s looking at her. 

his words were jarring, and seulgi, pathetically so, fell victim to them. pushing her head back, eyes half lidded, spite dancing on her tongue ungraciously. posing in a lax form, she won’t let him have it. won’t let him see such a shred of weakness flail past him so easily. 

seulgi is gorgeously (and we mean, gorgeously) delivering well enough. begging, throttling her mind to pray for myungsoo to at least raise his brows in the insignificant small act of praise for her ego to retain in her natural glory. “i’m fine, really.” a fake giggle (beautiful as it always is, the deliverer of serenity in her laughs) erupts in her chest, hiding much of her disdain. 

jaw set tight, the beating of the sun barely warming her in the biting weather. her head cocks to the light, lightly bathing in feign bliss. protruding her cheekbones for a defining shadow to emerge she shuts her eyes. 

slowly, and to his lens she opens them, slightly turning to him. wind sweeping her previous angers away (for now, anyways). the attention snapping back to her, back to the order of things-- thank the lord. 

she misses her arrogance confidence terribly. it seems as if she’s momentarily lost it in this wind. 

[247taemin-blog]

*---

Good news first, as usual.

The guidebook advises never to leave a lady empty-handed. He obeys, word by word, and nudges the box across the table top. His father’s assistant had made the purchase two days ago, the most expensive item in stock, as he has demanded. A necklace in gold, diamond stones glimmering on the charm – his own sunshine in a bag. It’s sensibly more intimate, more serious, than the usual small endearments he’d dedicated to her in the past, the usual passing token of silly, blind infatuation.

It’s a preamble.

[247seulgi-blog]

* she’s early. seulgi always is, she follows orders like a loyal dog (although, hopefully the thought won’t get to the better of the males she is waltzing over). the weather renders the beauty numb, fingers numb, as if frozen that even a bend of a single digit doesn’t curl but calls to shatter. hopefully lee taemin is enough of an (eager) gentleman to skip the chilly frivolities of whatever they’re doing in their usual meeting point and to the lush warmth of his mattress. 

seulgi has always had a fondness for the plush dip she gets when he lays her down. 

taemin and seulgi, seulgi and taemin, where do we start? 

seulgi was a sweet escapade but a trap, yes, very much. taemin’s hormonal attraction has left him looking like a fool (not to his knowledge anyways), trapped in her sex (quite literally). slipping into each other’s sheets, her’s over-washed cotton, and his much more expensive and tending to their own bodies. seulgi doesn’t mind being the vessel to the new money taemin to loll his head back in ecstasy and forget a named human degenerate ‘jinri’. 

well, she gets benefits, so that’s good. she also gets to taint the ‘ever-so-pretty-and-pristine’ choi jinri and that’s (perhaps) even better. 

but when she looks at him, there’s a hidden flustered heart in his chest and a flattered, brazen rush to seulgi’s cheeks. they’re meek and it was probably the charm of their relationship. ignorance and leg tangling giggles which are her forte and something she indulges too much for her own good. “hey taemin.” 

seulgi pretends to be breathy and acts as if her chest constricts at the sight of his lusciously gorgeous boyish eyes and a box sliding her way. “tae--” she acts as if she doesn’t want it. in a sense she lies to herself that she doesn’t want it, at this stage of her life she doesn’t see herself as that kind of woman. -- and like a placebo effect, seulgi falls into her own delusions. 

“you don’t have to shower me with such things,” a hand on the box, fingering the edges. “you know that.” (‘you’re not that kind of woman’ echoing in her head, but she is that kind of woman now that we think about it.) 

but seulgi can’t dare to open it and look into taemin’s very real, very wanting eyes. guilt still exists in the body of her lustrous trap and she can’t bear the chesty unease that may follow. 

lee taemin has always had an ability to leave her in agitation, stomach heavy with guilt. (at least the bed affairs made up for it, she supposes.) 

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[247avery]

                                            B L I N G  ♕  R I N G

                                        swing sweet charity, take what’s left of me                                               a new beginning or is this the end?                                         swing sweet seraphim, take me back again                                             or watch me make the messes of men