Ryeowook squeaks and tries to wrench himself out of Yesung’s grasp, but Yesung’s grip on his arm is strong and his other tentacle is firm at the back of his head— Wait. Tentacle?

Heechul had standards. Which was why he was fucking the little newbie in the back room, after shooting, after nearly everyone had left.

He’s fucking beautiful, even though men aren’t supposed to be beautiful. You don’t care.

In his dream, Kyuhyun is locked in a tower.

“We could’ve died.” Kyuhyun nonchalantly lit a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth. “Although, I guess, if you were alone, you could probably get away. Being able to turn invisible and all.”

Feeling wasn’t a program. They didn’t have hearts. Nothing was supposed to be real.

Kibum had filled out nicely—Donghae never saw Kibum’s awkward stages, doubted they even existed.

Jongwoon’s just a rockstar, he doesn’t pay attention to any of his fans. Well, most of his fans…

Kyuhyun wonders if fighting with doormats is the mature way to handle this. Not that he’s mature.

they’re young and in the back of hyukjae’s car.