#I must have been so sleep deprived to have drawn this

[novasdarling]

Growing Pains

Yandere! Illumi x reader

TW: Kidnapping Hinted, Pregnancy, Zoldyck Child Training(Idk what to label it as), Sort of Forced Pregnancy and Dubcon, Female Reader.

A cry woke you from your sleep again. It had to be the fifth time in the last few hours that she had woken up. Heading towards the crib near your bed, you checked to see why Sora was crying again. She couldn’t be hungry again, you swore you had just fed her not too long ago. You silently prayed she wasn’t teething yet, you weren't ready for that. Picking her up, you both sat on the bed. Trying to calm her down so you two could sleep again. Usually, she was in her own room with butlers that came to answer her calls at night, like with the other kids. But when Illumi was gone, it was nice to have another in the room with you at night. Even if she wouldn’t sleep.

Trying to hush her to bed seemed to be insignificant. A knock at the door proved that.

“Mrs Illumi.” You always hated how they referred to as that. Always linking you to Illumi. Master Illumi’s wife. Mrs Illumi. Mrs Zoldyck. Never just your name. “If you please, I can take her back to her nursery.” A butler had walked in. She was new but extremely sweet. You wondered how the hell she got here.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you though.”

The butler left, leaving you with a crying baby. She was the fussiest of all your kids. The others were better sleepers by miles. There was nothing you could really do right now, you had changed her, fed her, rocked her. Looking down at her, wondering what would make her cry like this. You needed to calm her, it would be embarrassing to have to call the butler back because you had failed. Failed to get your own child to rest. She was your child, you should be able to do this. Holding Sora closer, you hummed an old lullaby your own mother used to sing to you. It was more for you than her, a way to calm yourself down. If she sensed your tiredness and stress it would only make things worse.

The cries had finally stopped, looking down you saw Sora peacefully sleeping. It worked, the lullaby got her to sleep. Silently thanking your mother's need to sing all the time. You moved to lay Sora back into the bedside crib, but when you put her down, she woke. She just wouldn’t let you be. Taking her back into your arms, you laid her down on the bed near you. Making sure the bed was cleared on her side. Luckily Illumi had gotten the biggest bed possible. You kept your hand on Sora’s stomach. Humming and rubbing her, trying your best to get her back to sleep. Soon the cries stopped, her heavy eyes closed and so did yours. Both of you letting exhaustion win. Getting the much-needed sleep you both had been deprived all night.

The morning light shining through the window had lit up your room. The drawn back curtains had allowed the golden light to fall in and unfortunately hit your eyes. Waking you up. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, looking to the side expecting to see Sora, instead being met with an empty bed. Shooting up you looking around. She wasn’t by your bed, not in her crib. Where was she?

“Sora, Sora? Oh, god where is she?” You were running around the room the room, scared she fell off the bed and crawled somewhere.

“Mrs Illumi. Please relax. Sora is in the nursery with her siblings.”

It was the same butler as last night, she must have heard you running around the room shouting and came in. Her words calmed you down. She or one of the others most of gotten her before you woke up. You let out a breath of relief. She was safe and fine. Thanking and dismissing her, you got ready. Wanting to go see the kids in the nursery.

All you wanted to do was play with the children today, but Illumi was set to arrive back home soon. He'd never allow you to put all your attention on them when he was there. Dressing in Illumi’s favourite dress, as he was supposed to come home after dinner and always liked you ready to greet him in an outfit he enjoyed. It was like this ever since he had taken you as his wife. He had strict rules for you and the children. It was better when you played the part of the perfect wife. After all these years, it had gotten easier. Especially after having Mary and Silva, the twins. You had them to focus on when he was gone, to distract you from him. Illumi even seemed to change. He had always been somewhat kind to you, after all he had taken you and made you his wife because he stated he loved you. But before the twins he was awkward, not knowing how to communicate with you. All he did before was keep the bed warm with you and spoil you in gifts. Even then, it was detached. It was clear he didn’t know what to do with you besides the occasional conversation, sitting in silence, and sex. At least now he was more aware what was needed in a relationship.

Once ready you headed to the nursery. The butler told you all of them there playing. It was nice that there were still moments they could be kids, even if they belonged to the Zoldyck family. Heading down the hall until you came to the room. The nursery was on the other side of the hall. Illumi stated it was best to keep them far from your two’s room. You argued which made him settle on allowing them to have their rooms on the same floor as yours.

Walking into the room you were met with a different view than what you expected. The kids were playing, but they weren't alone. It wasn’t the usual butler that was watching them, no it was Illumi.

“Hello dear. You look wonderful.”

“You’re home early. I thought you were homing after dinner.”

He explained that the target was easier than originally thought so he was able to come home earlier. Illumi was sitting on the couch, holding Sora while watching the other kids play. They all had some features of his. Whether it be his long hair, his height or his large eyes. At least those that did have his eyes didn't have the emptiness like his. According to Kikyo, their eyes were almost like yours. Held the same emotions as yours, but were his shape. Only Silva and Sora looked more like you. Though Silva had his grandfather’s white hair. Born with a full head of it, Kikyo demanded that he have a family name. You were so tired you would have agreed to anything to get everyone away from you and get some rest.

Illumi signalled you over. Putting Sora on the ground to be swarmed by her siblings. Then pulling you down to sit on his lap. A hand on your waist and one on your thigh. He began to talk about his target. How easy it was, the method and plan he used. You always hated how he talked about these things in Infront of the children. They were still so young, but then again, he always told you that soon they would be joining him. It was hard to look at the twins and think that even though they were only eight, they were already getting trained. Being prepared to be taken out on missions with their father. No matter how much you loved them, they would always be seen as possessions of the Zoldyck family. Belonging to Illumi, not you.

“Sweetie, don’t push your brother.” You went to get up, but Illumi held you down.

“Let them be. They can figure things out on their own.”

Illumi went back to ranting about whatever he pleased until he called the butlers in to take the children to training. You tried to ask him to let them stay longer, you had just woken up. Yet, once again Illumi’s word was final. Once the kids left, he led you out of the nursery and back towards the bedroom. Signalling for you to help him undress, he knew you rather have him change his clothes once he got home. It was foolish, but it made you feel like what he did wasn't real if he changed clothes.

“We should have another.”

What

“You-we, I thought we were only going to have the four?” You two already had the twins, Kilian and Sora.

“Yes, but you seem happy with the kids." He turned to look at you. Scanning your face. "Lay down on the bed.”

He was standing there shirtless while your hands were still helping him with his pants zipper. There was no arguing with him. You originally thought after the twins he’d stop but then Kilian came a few years after that and Sora after that. To you, the others weren't planned. At least not on your part. It was only after you found out you were pregnant with Sora that he revealed he wanted four. Illumi tended to do what he pleased with you. In a sense, you were lucky he even brought it up instead of just doing it.

You laid on the bed, watching as he finished undressing. You realized you were still dressed. Your attempts to get undressed were stopped by him. Illumi telling you to just remove your underwear. Doing as he said, sliding them down and off your legs while Illumi watched. His eyes refusing to look away as he crawled on the bed between your legs. He held position you in the middle of the bed. Keeping himself in the middle of your legs. Using his hands to hold them apart while he lowered his head. Moving towards your clit, sucking on it. He was good, too good. It was rather annoying, especially since he was so good at reading you. Listening and watching you to see what worked best, what drove you crazy and right now. He was succeeding. The way his lips attached around your clit, the way he used his tongue. It made you a moaning mess, struggling to get away from him. Only to have his hand come up and hold your hip down. It was mind-numbing in an amazing way. The way his tongue was swirling around your clit was bringing you closer and closer to the edge. It wasn’t fair how he did this to get his way. Make you a puddle so he could do what he pleased. It wasn’t fair, but then again it was better than when you first got here. He just would position you and did what he pleased. Barely even warming you up.

“Good. Almost there.”

You were more than almost there. You were at the edge ready to fall off. Just a few more swirls and you were screaming his name. Gripping his hair, unsure if you wanted to pull him away or bring him closer. It was intense. You were still catching your breath as Illumi wiped off his face and lined himself up. You could barely look straight, too much in a daze. Not focusing on him moving and lining himself up, until you felt his tip at your entrance.

“I-Illumi, I don’t k-know.”

“Shh. I’m not done.”

He wasn’t a man of words unless he wanted to be condescending or rude. Then he seemed to be very skilled with them. It was best to lay back and let him enjoy himself now. If you were good for him, he’d make sure you enjoy it too. But the idea that he wanted another kid was blocking that idea. Were you ever going to get a break from having kids? Sora wasn’t even a year old, this was sooner after than the others.

“Illumi, please, S-Sora's too young.”

“I want a few more and now.” Illumi dipped his head to your ear. Littering a few kisses by your temple and the shell of your ear. While he pushed in. “You always look good-mmmm so tight-when you have my baby.”

His pace was slow while he pushed into you and let you get used to him. The stretch had gotten better over time, it was less intense than the first few times you two were together. Then again, Illumi also learned to focus on getting you warmed up first.

His thrusts were speeding up. His gentleness only lasted so long, he liked to get you off first so he could focus on him. He was selfish in nature, but better than before. His face was buried in the crook of your neck as his hips slammed against yours.

“Good. So good.”

Illumi was in the heat of the moment. Losing himself in your cunt. Fucking into you roughly. The way he was aiming his hips. Trying to get as deep in as possible. Wanting to also hit your sweet spot. It felt good, rough, but good. If he just slowed down a bit he would last longer and make you cum around him.

“Illumi! Illumi! Please, s-slow down. Please.”

“No. I’m almost done.” He was attempting to keep his composer. It was faint, but there was some strain in his voice. “I’m going to put another baby in you.”

He leaned back for a moment, pushing your legs up against your chest into a mating press. Allowing himself to get deeper. He was getting close to becoming too much. You wanted to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge. He was much stronger than you and once he was in the moment, there was very little you could do to push him away.

His grunts were loud and clear in your ear. Letting you know how much enjoyed being with you. He was hitting your sweet spot, ramming into it over and over. He was close, his thrusts were getting sloppy. You were getting close too. It wasn’t fair that he was making you feel so good when this wasn't really for you. He wanted another kid. You knew if he could, he’d probably keep you pregnant all the time.

“You looked good this morning. Laying in bed with Sora. Such a good mom” So that was it. Illumi was getting messy now, something that rarely happened. “I want more.”

The buildup was becoming too much. You clamped down on him, causing him to cum when you did. He held you tighter as he stilled. Filling you as much as he could and as deep as possible. While you were clawing at his back. Illumi was grinding into you, riding out his high. You were trying to catch your breath under him. Both of you lay there coming down from your highs. He came down faster than you, moving off of you to lay beside you. Watching your chest rise and fall trying to catch your breath.

“I hope for another boy like Silva. He’s getting further than I was at his age. Kilian seems to be too sensitive like you.”

Illumi was right, Kilian tended to come back from training in tears. It melted your poor heart. You never wanted this for them. If only all of them were more like Illumi. Mary tended to be a good spy, always telling her dad what you had been up to while he was away. He trained her well. You couldn’t help the way your eyes teared thinking of what your kids had become. They once were innocent little babies like Sora, but even she was receiving some training now and when she got older. She would become like the others.

“They’re kids Illumi...”

“Yes, my kids. They are part of the Zoldyck family and so will the others we have.” He moved closer, sitting up slightly and looking down at you. “I thought we were over this.”

“You're right, I'm sorry."

You remembered how you would cry and beg him to leave the twins alone when they started their training. Sometimes he'd lock you away as punishment so you wouldn't be able to see them for weeks. Spending that time alone crying over them. It was better to let him take them if it meant you could patch up their wounds after and be with them. It was cruel either way.

"Why do you want more now though? Sora is still so young.”

“I saw you with Sora this morning. You were so peaceful with her, you always looked that peaceful when pregnant. You always looked good.”

You smiled at his words. He was always the horniest when you were pregnant or when you two were trying. There was no arguing with him. You thanked him and laid a kiss on his lips. Illumi had come far from all those years ago. He was still cold and calculated, but at least now. Now he had his moments when he was alone with you and occasionally with the kids.

Tip jar

#yandere #yandere illumi #yandere illumi zoldyck #yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere illumi x reader #yandere hxh x reader #yandere hunter x hunter x reader #yandere phantom troupe x reader #yandere phantom troupe #illumi hunter x hunter #hxh illumi #illumi x reader #illlumi #yandere x reader #yandere blog #hxh #hunter x hunter #hxh imagines #hunter x hunter x reader #hxh x reader #nova writes #reader insert

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hello! I hope you're doing well 🥰

If the requests are open could you do some headcanons for Trevor, Sypha and Alucard with a court jester S/O? (They may be currently courtless). They're fun and snarky and they love their partners laugh however rare it may be - so they make it their mission to get them to crack up as often as possible.

I just think it'd be really cute lmao

Thanks!

 A/N: Oh my gosh! This is such a cute ask! @metkapop Sorry if it’s bad, I just could not focus at all today.

🎭 Castlevania Trio w/ A Court Jester S/O HC: 🎭

Trio: 

If anyone could use some cheering up, it’s these three lol.

After all the three have been through, genuine laughter is hard to come by. 

That’s where our Court Jester S/O comes in. 

They’re smart, and quick-witted, and pretty fast on their feet. They probably come into the trio’s life sometime after S4 ends. Currently courtless, they were traveling in search of a new court when they came across Village Belmont- a small but thriving new settlement, complete with a huge castle right in the middle, so they assumed there must be some sort of royal court inside. 

They’re very impressed by the way things are run/ruled: it’s not exactly a democracy, but it certainly isn’t a monarchy either, which sort of takes the pressure off. It’s easier to be naturally comedic when you don’t have to tailor all of your humor towards one /almighty/ ruler. 

They’re immediately drawn to the trio. I mean, who wouldn't be? Lol. But it’s more than mere fascination, they feel a sort of responsibility to cheer them up. Hearing their stories, hearing of all the trials and trauma they went through, our Court Jester makes up their mind to do everything in their power to make each of the trio laugh. 

Trevor: 

Trevor is the second hardest of the group to make laugh. He’s not against humor, and he has a habit of making witty comments under his breath, but he’s tired as all hell. It’s hard to laugh when you’re just so exhausted. After all, it’s not every day you get in a fight with Death and win. Needless to say, the guy needs some recovery time. 

But he does love a good sarcastic joke, especially if it’s teasing Alucard, or poking light fun at any of the superstitions the villagers have. Knowing so much about the truth of monster hunting it’s easy to sort of scoff/laugh at other people’s ignorance surrounding it. 

For example, one night, there were rumors an untethered group of vampires was heading in the castle’s general direction. Whether they were hellbent on bloodshed or negotiation was another question entirely, one that mattered not to the people. 

Going about his day, Trevor kept smelling garlic everywhere, which was odd, because there wasn’t any garland or garlic visible. After the stench became unbearable (it kept making Sypha’s morning sickness worse), he sought out Greta for answers. 

At the time Greta was conversing with our Court Jester S/O, laughing about something they said. When Trevor interrupted and asked why the hell he kept smelling garlic everywhere, Greta confided that a few of the villagers got in their heads that if they bathed in garlic water, vampires couldn’t touch them… To which our Jester replied, “Oh yeah. Because seasoned food is way less enticing.” 

Trevor let out a chuckle but otherwise held his tongue. It was only when he made it back inside to Sypha that he broke down in a fit of laughter as he relayed the information. The two’s hysterics could be heard outside. It was the perfect combination of sleep deprivation and hilarity that sent Trevor over the edge. 

From that day forward, whenever Trevor was in desperate need of a laugh, Jester would sneak a bulb of garlic into one of his pockets, before hiding and awaiting the snickers that were sure to follow. 

Sypha: 

Sypha laughs the most, although, not as much as she used to before meeting Trevor and going on this journey with him. The last few months they spent together on the road changed the way she looked at people and life. She’s still positive and always wants the best for everyone, but she’s hesitant, and much more guarded now. 

With Trevor back, everything seemed possible again. She didn’t feel as alone and lost. But there’s still a lot she has to carry. Being pregnant, leading a village, watching over Alucard, and helping Trevor heal take up most of her energy, leaving little left for an appreciation of humor. 

That doesn’t deter her Court Jester S/O though, nope! Not at all! They just try harder to see Sypha smile. 

They help her with whatever chores Sypha’s doing at the moment, making pleasant conversation, and trying some banter. When that doesn’t work, Jster opts for a more physical approach. They offer to carry a stack of papers down to the cellar before tripping and falling three-stooges-style down the stairs. The paper goes flying everywhere, like confetti. But before Sypha can even blink, they pop back up, their little bells jingling as they do so: “I’m okay!” Cue paper continuing to fall comedically around them. 

Sypha is stunned with concern for a moment before she starts to giggle. One giggle, then twp, before she’s holding her swollen belly laughing. “That was perfect,” she says. “But for safety purposes, let’s try not to do that again.” 

Jester is careful, but they don’t stop the physical humor completely. They love making moves, even Sypha can’t see coming. For example, when Sypha uses her Speaker magic to conjure floating ice steps, Jester will try to climb up onto it from below, even going as far to get a ladder if they have to, just to slide themselves over the edge and start to do pull-ups on it. Yes, it’s slippery and hazardous, but Jester knows how to fall. They’ve done it so many times, they’re practically an expert by now lol. 

The sheer zaniness of Jester’s actions never fails to bring a knowing smile to Sypha’s face. She just asks that they promise not to act that way when her baby comes around, lest they teach her kid any ideas. 

Alucard: 

Alucard is by far the hardest to make laugh. He’s much more introverted and stoic than the other two. That’s not to say he doesn’t laugh or doesn’t enjoy humor- he does, but it’s much quieter and more subtle than the others. 

Alucard was under a lot of pressure at the end of S4, especially before Trevor seemingly returned from the dead. His stress levels were through the roof, even if he tried hiding it. 

In all the chaos, the one thing Alucard found brought him the most joy was playing with the kids in the village. He liked hearing them laugh as he chased after them from above, or snuck up on them when playing hide and seek. It reminded him so much of how his parents would play with him when he was a little boy growing up in the castle. 

This of course doesn’t go unnoticed by his Jester S/O, who makes a secret pact with the orphaned children to play a funny prank on Alucard when he’s least expecting it. 

The timing just so happened to work out perfectly. It happens just after the first snow of the season. The ground becomes coated in heavy, packing snow- perfect for making snowmen and snowballs. Jester and the children get bundled up and build two modest, unsuspecting forts. Then Jester asks Alucard to come help them referee the children's snowball fight. With a bit of begging, Alucard relents, happy to give Trevor and Sypha some alone time with their new baby. 

Unbeknownst to Alucard however, is that he is the intended target of the snowball fight. And that the two forts are stocked full of pre-made snowballs ready to launch on hidden catapults, perfect for surprisingly even the smartest of dhampir. 

Once Alucard gets into position, and gives the signal for the fight to begin, the kids unleash their snowball fury. They get a good few solid hits in before Alucard’s brain catches up to the fact he’s been bamboozled. He makes a move to super-speed away but not before Jester and a handful of other older kids tackle Alucard to the ground. Yes, they all end up getting pulled with snowball after snowball from their makeshift catapult contraption, but the snow in their hair and all over their clothes is well worth it. 

Alucard, covered in snow and ice, and now freezing children throws his head back and laughs- a deep genuine laugh. 

How surprising human joy is to him, even after all of this time. It’s infectious, and Alucard finds himself grateful to be amongst friends. 

After everyone’s nose starts to freeze, he ushers the children back inside their respective homes, promising to play with everyone again tomorrow. 

Once he and Jester are back inside, he offers to make tea for the two of them. Jester of course accepts graciously, still warming themselves by the fire. Alucard leaves for the kitchen, but not before lobbing one perfectly formed snowball right at Jester’s back. Revenge was a dish best served cold after all. 

I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, don’t forget to Reblog! 

Once again, the cute daisy chain divider is courtesy of @cafekitsune !

#castlevania imagines #castlevania imagine #castlevania x reader #alucard imagine #trevor belmont imagine #sypha belnades imagine #alucard x reader #trevor belmont x reader #sypha x reader #castlevania trio x reader #castlevania #hc

[glitterpeachtree]

Sierra Six x Reader

You were Dani's little sister. You liked spending time with Dani and Six. However, you didn't like how Dani and Six treated you. They would sometimes treat you as if you were glass. A story in which Dani and Six live together, and you, have Schizoaffective Disorder.

Trigger Warning: Unitential Self-harm

"What's wrong?" Dani asked. I had been crying.

"There's snakes on the bed. I can't sleep with snakes." I mumbled.

Six then walked in. He looked concerned. You didn't really know Six that well. He was pretty quiet around you, but you knew that Dani told him about your condition. I had been living with them for a while. I was tired of living in the city with my parents. If it were up to me, I would have my apartment, but my parents would never trust me to live alone. And besides, I don't have any money. It's hard to keep a job when you have hallucinations and depressive episodes.

Dani stood up and picked up my blanket and pillows. She was looking for the snakes. She flipped them over and set them on the bed. She looked at Six and then she looked at me.

"(Y/N). No snakes." She seemed so sure. How could she not see the snakes? Was she lying to me? Was she trying to trick me? Six then came over to me a kneeled down to be. I had been sitting on the floor with my knees drawn up to my chest.

"Why don't you sleep on the couch? Huh?" Six told me. Dani looked at him in an offensive way.

.......

I lay down the couch, I overhear Dani arguing with Six.

"You know you're just enforcing her delusion, right? You have to let her challenge herself. Figure out what's real and what's false." I heard my sister say.

"I know. I know. But this is day two without sleep for her. She needs sleep. You said yourself that sleep deprivation could trigger an episode, right?"

"Yes. Six. You're right. But could you at least talk to me first before you try and reason with her. I just feel like sometimes she thinks you always give the easy way out, and I'm the bad guy."

.......

CRASH!

Six and Dani come running into the living room. Six had his gun pointed down and looking around frantically, while Dani immediately tried to look for me. There was shattered glass everywhere. I had punched the mirror that was hanging in the living room.

"Oh my God. Six get a towel or something! She's bleeding. Y/N look at me. It's okay. You're okay."

"Don't take me to the hospital. Please! I didn't mean to! Please!" I gasped. Six picked me up bridal style away from the glass onto the couch I was sleeping on. He then wrapped a towel around my hand and held it tightly. Dani went to go get the first aid kit.

"I'm sorry. Six I'm sorry." I repeated.

"I know. Hey, look at me. Look at me. Just breathe. It doesn't look too deep. I'm going to clean it, and wrap it okay? Will you let me do that?" It turns out Six was pretty good with medical stuff. I think he could've been a paramedic if it wasn't for prison.

"Okay." I breathed.

....

Dani gave me a Xanax. That's usually what she does when I have an episode.

"I wasn't trying to hurt myself." I mumbled.

"No?" Six said.

"No. I was looking in the mirror and I didn't see myself. It wasn't me. I don't know who it was. But it wasn't me."

"Must have been pretty scary. Did you tell Dani any of this?" He looked so concerned. I hated that they had to worry about me like this.

"No. I don't like when you guys look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm broken or crazy or I don't know!" Dani came in when she heard my little outburst.

....

A week later Six started taking the sheets off the mirrors. I had put them there after my little incident. It seemed like Six was taking into consideration what my sister said to him:

You have to let her challenge herself. Figure out what's real and what's false.

#fanfic #ryan gosling imagine #ao3 #ryan gosling #fanfiction #sierra six #the gray man #sierra six x reader #sierra six x you #sierra six x y/n #courtland gentry #dani miranda

[cacklefrendly]

Hi this th same anon who ask for gin and vodka hc and thank you for answer first and you say you have more hc about the two not as a duo so spill the hc i will enjoy hearing you rant about them ofc if you want and about the compliment you're welcome

anon i would've answered more quickly but the weather has been Too Cold to do anything but hibernate. i refuse to let that stop me.

here have a song that's in my Vesper Cocktail playlist — "Slaughterhouse Floor" by Skippocalyptic:

Be thou flesh of my flesh, and I’ll be the house that you haunt Lay down your neck for my blade, and I’ll be what you want And I can’t seem to imagine, perfect love But I have to imagine That it’s blood, blood, blood

ok more headcanons YIPPEE—

GIN:

He's always just a bit sleep-deprived and just a bit under-weight. It’s perfectly understandable given his job but the 'tism isn't helping him any.

Gin is trans, and transitioned after he got his first codename (Kina Lillet, as previously mentioned). Turns out that the Black Organization already has paperwork ready for name changes!! Black Org. says Trans Wrongs. He doesn't see his old codename as a deadname, but he's so comfortable with 'Gin' that he considers that to be his real name. The only reason he doesn't talk about the old codename is that he and Vermouth had a couple one-night stands while he was Kina but she doesn't know that was HIM and he would like to KEEP IT THAT WAY—

For dysphoria-related reasons he used to keep his hair short religiously. When he got De-Titted he started letting it go a bit longer between cuts. Then the T started really kicking in as he was climbing the B.Org’s ranks and he decided “gender norms are simply another law to be broken over my knee” and from then on only ever trims the ends. As he should.

Gin does Not play video games. He’s never even played Portal. It’s one of his more glaring flaws as a person.

Silver is his natural hair color! He used to dye it darker, but he stopped when it was getting too long to be worth maintaining. He’ll go through the hassle if he REEEEEEALLY NEEDS TO for undercover shit but he only uses temporary dyes. And tries not to leave the house until it’s gone.

Speaking of his hair, again, 90% of the people who end up fighting Gin hand-to-hand go for his hair. Which is a trap! He’s specifically trained himself to break out of hair grabs — or use them to his advantage, which is way more fun for him.

He's actually pretty calm and laid-back when he's not on-the-job. In the same sense that lions and wolves are kinda lazy when they're not hunting. Predators need to conserve their energy! Of course the SECOND he has an assignment he is 100% in Murder Mode.

VODKA:

First and most importantly: Vodka wears Doc Martens. Because he deserves it. He mostly wears work-appropriate ones — Oxford-style, black stitching, little-to-no heel. Actually just. THESE ONES — but he owns a selection with high-heels and/or platforms. (the first time he struts walks out in THESE Gin’s like “firstly you’re taller than me and that’s unacceptable. i trusted you. but secondly God-Damn,”)

As I’ve said (and drawn) before, Vodka can sing. Because I deserve it. He likes to change the lyrics to make songs gay. Also because I deserve it.

Before Vodka was codenamed, while he was working for one of the Black Org's front businesses, while he still wasn't privy to any super illegal information (rather, wasn't SUPPOSED to be, but he’s not stupid and could tell that numbers weren’t adding up the way they were supposed to), he was kidnapped along with three coworkers. The kidnappers were part of a decent-sized rival group looking to get some dirt to force the Black Org. out of their territory (not knowing exactly what they were getting into) by interrogating its employees. One by one, all of his coworkers cracked and admitted that they didn’t know anything. So they were killed. Vodka didn't tell his captors a damn thing, so they concluded that he must have access to important information. They kept him alive and quickly moved from interrogation to torture — but Vodka lasted long enough for the Black Org. to track the threat down and kill them. His secret? the only thing he let himself think about was a song, one he'd kept hearing when he hung around his superiors' offices: Seven Children. By the time he should've cracked, the only thing he had the presence of mind left to do was sing. The incident got him codenamed, and he’s proud of himself for it, but in particularly high-stress situations you might hear him singing under his breath — "Cute, cute," The mother crow sings. "Cute, cute."

Yknow how in like every movie with the Black Org. the team has some Super Expensive New Toy (spy plane, submarine, ect.) that is absolutely going to be Blown The Fuck Up by the end? While the movies technically don’t exist, i 1000% believe that Vodka is extremely good at convincing The Boss and the people in charge of weapons distribution that Gin’s team should totally get a shiny new toy to play with, thank you. He presents the keys to the newest Vehicle For Manslaughter and watches Chianti and Gin vibrate with excitement like two grayhounds you just asked "wanna go for a walk?"

#gin detective conan #vodka detective conan #detective conan #cackle rants #my sister sent me that song and i was just like. hey. HEY. this is some Good Shit right here #i'd go so far to say that it's a fine addition to my collection #in my head the 'she' in the song is Vodka so the singer's POV is Gin

[yoonyia]

it's 4:11 am, I can hear birds, I ate a fistful of chocolate cake like 2 hours ago (I just grabbed a chunk and ate it like an apple instead it was nothing like an apple and the cake fell apart like the morning sun at noon and I have no idea what I'm saying) I am not sleep deprived or tired or drowsy, I am perfectly awake and clear headed. I have been acting out the jekyll and hyde musical songs for the past 5 hours, I am perfectly ok and happy. The last time I drank water was 6 days ago, I thought yesterday was a Wednesday. I am perfectly fine. I drank a gulp of those perfume that's in the glasses with sticks, I'm lying I did no such thing but I'm rather tempted too, I am so ok you don't need to touch me. I don't hear random buzzing and whispers and I do not see visions of people standing next to me, I do not hear rats in the walls. I am not going insane, that's because I went insane Wednesday and got my sanity back right now and that's why I thought it was Wednesday. This singular desk lamp lighting up my room is way too bright, I must die in darkness and look at that I haven't drawn in 2 days and have not read a single lick of any of my books for the past 16 hours, wow I am doing so well. I'm gonna go drink some water now i think im a little dehydrated my lips are chapped and I live in thailand a notoriously not dry place.

This is yoons voices speaking we are not fine and this flesh mask with anxiety is dying get help you poor fucking soul. WE CANT FORCE YOU TO MAKE DECISIONS NOW GO DROWN YOURSELF IN SLEEP YOU BITCH.

This is yoon speaking I hate my voices

[rei-translations]

Danganronpa Kirigiri Volume 1 Full English Translation - Chapter 1: Murder at Sirius Observatory 1

I get the feeling that while I was sleeping, I cried a lot.

Why was I crying?

Is it because something sad happened?

Or is it because I had that dream again? 

I don’t really know the reason why.

My cheeks have gotten completely drenched with tears.

But when I try to wipe my face, I get a strange feeling. 

My right hand can’t reach my face.

I feel pain in my wrist. 

With that stimulus, I faintly regain consciousness.

Still disoriented, I slowly raise my head and look at my right wrist.

There was an unfamiliar bracelet fastened around it. It was a sturdy-looking shiny black bracelet. There was even a chain attached to it, which made it very hard to describe it as cute.

This kind of thing isn’t really my style. 

The chain was the biggest problem. When I try to raise my right arm, the chain tightens and I can’t move it. My right arm has been restrained in a position where it is extended above my head.

When I follow the end of the chain with my eyes, there is another bracelet, this one attached to the leg of the bed.

In my hazy consciousness, I finally start to understand the position I’ve found myself in.

I’m not on top of the bed, but rather lying face-down on the floor. It seems like my right arm has been linked to the leg of the bed with handcuffs, and I can’t move from here. The only part of my body that has been restrained is my right arm, so I can freely move the rest of my body. 

Crawling closer to the bed, I tried to make my right hand as free as possible and pushed on the floor with both hands, slowly sitting up. 

I feel dizzy.

What in the world happened? Why did I collapse in a place like this?

I try to remember, but noise obstructs my memory. Fine-tuning my mind, I probed for my memories from earlier. 

The first thing I’m able to remember is that unpleasant signboard. The letters written on it momentarily flashed back to me.

“Welcome to the Picturesque Sirius Observatory.”

On that sign distinctly visible against the dim twilight, perhaps due to someone’s prank, the word “picture” was crossed out with red spray paint, and the word “despair” was written above instead.

“Welcome to the Despairesque Sirius Observatory.”

Ah, that’s right, this building is called the Sirius Observatory. It’s a privately-owned astronomical observatory, and when looked at from above, the entire building is said to take the shape of a star. Each of the star’s five points is a guest room in the shape of a glass-paneled isosceles triangle. In the pentagon at the center of the star is a dome-shaped hall, which previously could be used to look up at the stars.

It appears that I collapsed in one of those five guest rooms.

My memory gradually became clear. 

It’s okay, I can remember.

My name is…

Yui Samidare, 16 years old.

I’m a detective.

After receiving a request from an important figure, we five detectives were summoned to the Sirius Observatory.

For detectives, a client’s request is the very reason for our existence. And for a request like this with such an air of secrecy, we are even less able to resist its allure. 

But the client never showed up.

I guess there’s no need to doubt it now. We were deceived. Someone plotting a crime gathered us here in this place, and now I’m in this mess.

As the situation became clearer, I felt a sense of dread start to set in.

I don’t know who’s behind this, but in such a bizarre situation, I feel like I’ve been completely deprived of my freedom.

More than anything, the fact that they messed with me while I was unconscious gives me goosebumps. They might have even done some weird things to me. At any rate, it’s a relief that I don’t have any pain or external injuries. 

Adjusting my misaligned glasses, I scanned my surroundings.

My backpack is sitting on top of the bed. Which means this must be my room. The curtains are still drawn on the windows. I can’t see what the situation is outside, but it doesn’t appear to be bright at all. Is it because it’s night, or because of the snow…

At the back of the room is a telescope. It’s not something I brought with me, but rather something that was already here. But I remember that I couldn’t actually use it to view the starry sky because of the snow falling outside.

I turn around. The door to my room is closed, so I can’t see the pentagonal hall just outside.

It’s too quiet… 

What happened to everyone else?

Why is no one making any noise despite this situation we’re in?

It’s possible that, just like me, they’re tied up and unable to move. Or maybe they’re still unconscious. 

I don’t know who’s planning what, but I can’t just let this situation go according to their plan. 

I have no choice but to stand up and face it.

Because I’m a detective.

But first, I have to do something about these handcuffs. Since they’re tied to the leg of the bed, I can’t even stand up like this. There’s a keyhole around the base of the chain, but there’s no key to be found. 

Well, it’s not like it’s possible to walk around dragging the whole bed behind me…

Huh?

The bed’s legs were cylindrical, one supporting each of its four corners. The handcuffs were attached to one of them. But this is… now that I think about it, if I lift the bed up, I can just pull the handcuffs out from underneath, right?

It’s an ordinary single-size wooden bed. I should be able to manage even with my strength.

I immediately grabbed the edge of the bed and tried lifting it up. I’m not very strong, but even I can barely lift it. That’s good enough. All I need is a gap large enough to slide the handcuffs out from underneath the leg of the bed. 

On the count of three, with all my strength, I lifted the leg of the bed a few centimeters into the air. 

From there, I pulled out my handcuffs. 

All right! I was able to recover my freedom surprisingly easily. 

Did the person who did this to me think would be impossible to lift this bed with a girl’s strength? If so, I’m thankful for their carelessness.

Finally, I was able to stand up.

I felt dizzy from standing up so fast, but I was fine. I did some light stretches to loosen up my body. No problem. I can do this.

With the handcuffs dangling from my right arm, I gently opened the door and peeked into the center of the pentagonal hall. 

Nobody’s there. 

Carefully checking my surroundings, I stepped out into the hall.

In the center of the hall was a short, wooden round table. There used to be a circular iron pedestal here, which apparently had a giant telescope attached to it, but it seems to have been removed a long time ago. Now, the space is vacant and hollow.

There wasn’t a single figure in the hall. The whole place looked deserted. 

The analog clock on the wall displayed that the time was just past 12. Based on the darkness outside, it must have been midnight, right around the time the date changed. 

Where did everyone go?

Just as I was about to call out for them, my thoughts came to a halt.

What’s that…?

Right around the wooden table, two childlike legs were sticking out from underneath. 

Black loafers and black knee-high socks.

At that moment, I realized who it was.

One of the detectives accompanying me—

Kyoko Kirigiri.

Her legs were haphazardly sprawled out across the floor. She appears to be lying face-down. 

There are no signs of movement.

I got closer to the table, following the path of her legs with my gaze.

They were such fragile-looking legs. The delicate curves that extended from her calves to her pale thighs reveal the immaturity of a young girl. Her skirt was spread from around her waist to the floor, keeping its crisp folds intact.

Is she okay…?

As I tried to get closer to her, I stopped in my tracks.

She lay with the right side of her head down, facing directly towards me. A braid hangs on her cheek, covering her small mouth. Her eyes remain closed.

The cold complexion of her skin, which seemed to lack any semblance of warmth, stood out more and more even though it looked the same as when I first met her.

Don’t tell me… is she dead?

No, you can see her small back faintly moving up and down.

Is she just unconscious?

I couldn’t tell from a distance, but I was hesitant to approach her and confirm for myself whether she was alive or dead. The reason for that being a bloody pair of shears that had fallen right next to her right hand.

Aren’t these pruning shears? They’re the kind of shears you would need both hands to use. The thick blade looks like it can cut through any branch, no matter how thick. They’re usually used for pruning trees or shrubs, but what could they have cut for there to be blood all over them— 

I initially thought it might be her blood, but she has no visible injuries. There are no traces of blood on her clothes or the floor around her either. 

Then whose blood is on the shears?

Seeing that the shears had fallen next to her hand, isn’t she actually the one who used them as a murder weapon?

I was hesitant to get closer to her precisely because I was afraid of that being the case.

What happened to Kyoko Kirigiri?

Whose blood could this be?

I have to find out!

I left her behind for the time being and moved through the hall. 

I went to the nearest guest room. The door was left slightly ajar.

I gently opened the door. 

The lights in the room are turned on. The curtains are still drawn over the windows, so I still can’t tell what’s going on outside.

The blanket on the bed was puffed out with the outline of a person. Someone is sleeping. Probably one of the detectives that accompanied me. As far as I could see from the entrance to the room where I was standing, he seemed to be sleeping peacefully. 

—Without taking a single breath.

I fearfully snuck closer and closer to the bed. 

I looked down into it.

There was a man looking up at the ceiling with his mouth slightly agape. I think his name was Eigo Amino. He’s a practicing detective in his mid-thirties. He showed no signs of noticing me; he must be fast asleep with his eyes open. 

“Um… I’m sorry for disturbing you when you’re trying to sleep…”

I tried calling out to him. There was no response.

I knew that no matter how many times I called out to him, it would be futile. Ever since I had entered the room, some kind of despair-inducing smell filled the air.

The man didn’t move at all, his eyes wide open.

Desperately trying not to scream, I slowly reached out, grabbed the blanket, and slowly started pulling it back…

At that moment, his head turned towards me.

My hair stood on end and I jumped back. The man’s head rolled over on the side of the bed and stopped moving, the tip of his nose buried in the mattress. 

Normally, it would be impossible to turn your head like that without changing your posture too, but there was no indication that any part of his body below the neck moved. On the contrary, his head was clearly in a strange position. 

The reason for that is abundantly clear now that I’ve removed the blanket.

His neck was severed from his head - he had been decapitated.

The lower part of the blanket was bloody, and that bright red color snapped me to my senses and seared itself in my eyes. I averted my eyes to remove that color from my sight and quickly fled the room.

My body started trembling involuntarily. I felt a sudden chill. Did the temperature drop? Or is it because I had just witnessed such a horrific dead body? Even though it was very cold, an unpleasant sweat began to break out all over my body.

I staggered over to the adjacent guest room.

Just like the previous room, the door was slightly ajar. Through the crack of the door, I could somewhat make out what was going on inside the room.

Just as I thought, one of the detectives appears to be laying in the bed, with the blanket puffed up over him.

I don’t want to see, I don’t want to know. 

But I have no choice but to see, no choice but to know. 

If I want to call myself a detective, I have no choice but to face this reality head-on.

No matter what tragedy or despair awaits me—

I walked into the room and got closer to the bed.

There were no traces of the room having been broken into.

In fact, the posture of the man sleeping on the bed could even be described as pure, correct, and beautiful.

He was wearing light grey sunglasses. But there was no hiding the shadow of death that had risen on his face. Shiita Enbi. He’s a young detective. No, he was a detective.

When I pulled the blanket off of him, as expected, his neck was also severed.

But that wasn’t all.

I noticed a peculiar fact about the body.

The head facing upwards on the pillow was undoubtedly Enbi’s, but below the neck, the body belonged to someone else. Enbi should have had a burly, muscular body. And yet, the body lying underneath the blanket was that of a stout and fat middle-aged man.

I remember who that physique belonged to.

One of the detectives that accompanied me, a man named Kou Inuzuka.

Wh-what’s going on here?

No matter how you look at it, this whole situation is riddled with abnormalities. My little mind whirled around with more information than I could tolerate.

I ran out of the room and moved to yet another room right next to it. I already had a pretty good guess as to what was inside.

And as I thought, lying on the bed was Kou Inuzuka’s dead body.

Although, whether or not you could call it Inuzuka’s corpse is the question. Like the others, the torso appeared to be someone else’s. Looking at it, the physique was also different from Enbi’s. So then, could it be Amino’s, the corpse I saw first…?

Oh, the heads and bodies have all been switched.

Hugging myself tightly to warm up my freezing body, I returned to the hall with a heavy heart.

Why did it turn out like this?

Out of the five of us that arrived at Sirius Observatory, three ended up dead.

And what’s more, for some reason, they were decapitated and left with their heads and bodies switched around.

There’s no one else at the Sirius Observatory but us. Also, around the time we arrived, there was a snowstorm outside, and the building was isolated in the middle of all the snow. It is safe to assume that there was no third-party intervention.

Eigo Amino.

Shiita Enbi.

Kou Inuzuka.

Yui Samidare.

Kyoko Kirigiri.

Out of the five, three are dead, and two are alive. 

Of course, I can say with certainty that I didn’t kill them. My memories may not be fully clear yet, but it’s definitely impossible that I could have killed them without feeling something by now. And besides, why would I restrain my own self with handcuffs in the first place? There’s no doubt that somebody else tied me up. They might have even intended to kill me afterwards. 

Then, who could that person be? 

Going by the process of elimination, I can’t think of anyone aside from the only other person still alive.

Did she really— 

I went back to where she was.

Kyoko Kirigiri is still lying down on the floor of the hall. 

Her neck is still connected. Such a thin neck would be much easier to sever compared to the necks of the other men. But she didn’t have any injuries.

While the murder weapon is lying right next to her hand…

The more I look at her, the more innocent she looks.

Could she have really gone around chopping the heads off of the three men one after the other?

Something so ridiculous couldn’t possibly… But…

I closely observe her while closing the distance between us. She’s a cute girl, but her appearance gives off a mysterious, enigmatic vibe. Based on the impression I got from talking with her earlier, I can surmise that she’s wary of showing her true feelings. Perhaps it’s just because she’s already a detective at her age.

While pondering what I should do, something suddenly gleamed in her left hand.

… A key?

I had a sudden flash of intuition.

The key to the handcuffs!

If “the person who murdered those three detectives” = “the person who handcuffed me”, isn’t the fact that she holds the key to the handcuffs proof that she’s the murderer?

If that key really is the key to the handcuffs…

I have to check. I want to take these handcuffs off as soon as possible, anyway.

I got closer to her. Trying to keep her from noticing, I gently reached out my hand.  To steal the key, I have to pull it out from within her hand. Her fingers were closed just like small white flower buds. I gradually spread her fingers out, one by one. 

I cautiously drew out the key and took it from her hand.

She still hasn’t noticed.

I immediately stuck the key into the keyhole on the side of my wrist. A perfect fit.

I turned the key.

As soon as I did, the lock opened and the handcuffs came off.

I was overcome by a sense of release and a sense of despair at the same time. So she really is the culprit? I don’t know what happened to her, but it seems she killed those men, restrained me with handcuffs, then lost consciousness and collapsed. Maybe because of physical exhaustion, or maybe because of anemia.

To make sure once more that the key was the real deal, I shoved the key into the other keyhole and turned it. Of course, the handcuffs opened with a click.

At that moment, in response to the sound of the key, Kirigiri stirred at my feet.

She’s waking up!

I instantly took a half-step back.

She still lay there with her eyes open, staring at the floor. Not long after, she began to get up, rubbing her eyes while looking up at me with a puzzled expression. She sat defenselessly with her legs to her side, in a daze.

And then, she saw the shears lying on the floor.

At that instant, the innocent girl’s expression suddenly froze.

She reached out her right hand, trying to grab the shears.

“Don’t move!”

A cease and desist order.

But her hand didn’t look like it was going to stop.

I have no choice.

I kicked off my feet and lunged directly at her, fastening one handcuff to her left wrist. Then, I forcefully pulled the chain and fastened the other handcuff to the armrest of a nearby armchair.

Her body is now tied to the chair. The armchair is not very big, the size enough to fit only one person, but with her slender arms, she won’t be able to drag it anywhere. Her right hand can no longer reach the shears.

She stopped moving her hand and turned towards me, expressionless. However, I noticed the slightest hint of reproach in her eyes. 

“Why are you doing this, onee-sama?”

Kirigiri spoke in a calm manner without raising her voice even a little.

Onee-sama — Or so she says, but there’s not a shred of deference in her eyes. Well, I guess that makes sense. It’s just something I made her call me in the first place. But when she says it with such an innocent face, I could mistake her for my actual sister…

I shook my head as if to shake off my sudden sentimentality.

“‘Why’? I should be asking you that same question!” I kicked the shears on the floor far away from her. “And when I finally thought I had made a good friend. Did you kill those three people?”

“Three people…? Kill…?”

Her eyes widened for an instant, and then she cast her eyes downwards, deep in thought.

“Oh… so I was too late…”

She hung her head, still firmly seated. She looked dejected.

“Don’t play dumb. Why did you kill them? What were you planning to do to me?”

“Calm down. I am not the culprit.”

“‘You’re not the culprit’… As if anyone else could be the culprit! Three out of the five of us here were killed, and the only people left are me and you. And if I’m not the culprit, then it has to be you.”

“And what proof do you have that you’re not the culprit, Yui onee-sama?”

“Proof? If you want a witness, here,” I said, pointing to myself. “I was lying unconscious until just a few moments ago. When I came to, three people were dead. I’m just as sure of the fact that I didn’t kill them as I am of the fact that I’m a 16-year-old high school girl and a Virgo virgin.”

“Then, I too can claim that I am a witness to my own innocence.”

“No, that’s not going to work in your case. You were holding the shears, which seem to be the murder weapon, and you had the key to the handcuffs that were on my arms. The evidence is all there. How are you going to refute that?”

I folded my arms and looked down at her. 

She was flopped down on the floor next to the chair with her legs outstretched and was looking up at me. Both my physical and logical position is clearly superior here.

“I just saw these shears for the first time a little while ago. And I have no memory of any key for any handcuffs.”

“You had the key clasped in your hand!”

“Someone must have placed it there,” she replied, slowly shaking her head. “It looks like while I was unconscious, someone set up this whole situation.”

“‘Someone’…?”

“Who knows? It might be one of the detectives who came here with us, or it might be you, Yui onee-sama.”

“I’m telling you, it’s not me. I’m a victim here.”

“If you ask me, I would say that it’s you who attacked me all of a sudden, Yui onee-sama, who seems like the most likely culprit.”

She held up the handcuffs on her right hand and displayed them to me.

“I didn’t attack you or anything. I had no choice but to do it in self-defense. I mean, you were trying to take the shears.”

“If you see a pair of shears covered in blood, wouldn’t you normally be tempted to pick them up and examine them?”

“That’s not normal. I would never do that.”

“Even though you’re a detective?”

She tilted her head and asked, looking up at me.

At a loss for an answer, I bit my lip.

“N-nghh…”

“People have been murdered, have they not? That should make it all the more necessary to examine the murder weapon. Does the shape of the weapon match the wounds on the victim? Is it possible for just about anyone to handle the weapon? Does it have any peculiar features? What is its weight? Its height? And much more…”

“Yeah yeah, I know that already,” I interrupted her, overtaken by my pride. “But it’s not good to touch it with your bare hands, Miss Detective. You’ll just end up getting unnecessary fingerprints on it, you know?”

“… You’re right, that was careless. I was not fully awake at the time. I’m sorry.”

She gave an earnest apology.

“Or maybe the shears already had your fingerprints all over them. You could have just wanted to touch them to try and cover that up.”

“I suppose it is possible to interpret it that way.” She squinted at the shears. “Are you certain that these shears are the murder weapon?”

“Probably. They seem like they’d be good for quick and easy decapitation.”

“Decapitation…?”

“Yeah, the heads and bodies of the three victims were severed… Well, you did it, didn’t you. Even with your skinny little arms, with those sturdy pruning shears, it would probably be possible to chop off their heads in one go.”

In response to my words, she stayed silent for a while.

I thought that with all this suspicion pointing toward her, she would be discouraged and have a grief-stricken expression, but the look in her eyes was as cool as ever.

On the contrary—

“It seems that something very inexplicable is happening.”

Her eyes, as clear and innocent as they could be, seemed to sparkle without a trace of defilement.

“Yes, I just can’t understand it,” I said bitterly. “I just can’t understand how a girl like you could have turned out to be a psychotic, cold-blooded killer.”

“I will say it once again, I am not the killer. You still don’t understand that, Yui onee-sama?”

“Then who is the killer? Everyone else is dead. There’s no way they’re just pretending to be dead. They’re all decapitated. Or do you actually think I’m the killer after all?”

“No,” she replied immediately. “I know I said it earlier, but I don’t think you are the culprit, Yui onee-sama.”

I didn't expect that.

Under these circumstances, there shouldn’t have been any effective counter-argument to my allegations other than naming me as the culprit.

“Why do you think that?”

“I remember what happened right before I lost consciousness. I think it was about eight o’clock. We were all gathered here in this hall, discussing what to do about dinner.”

That’s right…

We were at our wit's end because of that lie of a request. It was dark outside, and we couldn’t go back home because of the blizzard. We were sitting around the round table and discussing what we would do next.

At that moment, without warning, someone collapsed. If I remember correctly, it was Amino. He suddenly tumbled down and lay outstretched on the floor. 

Then, out of nowhere, white smoke began to fill the air. Someone was shouting, “There's a fire!” But there were no signs of any flames, and I didn't feel any heat. While in a panic about what to do, before I realized it, I had also fainted. I had absolutely no idea what happened.

“That’s what the smoke really was.”

Kirigiri pointed under the round table.

There lay something that looked like a small aluminum can.

“What’s that?” I crawled under the round table and pulled it out. “It looks like a soda can, but… there’s no opening to drink from.”

“It’s probably a homemade smoke machine. Somebody rolled it under the round table. Fortunately, it didn’t appear to contain tear gas or sleeping gas. But that terrible white smoke completely obscured my vision.”

I fell unconscious pretty quickly, so I don’t really know what happened after that.

“What exactly happened?”

“Who knows, I’m not really sure either. When everyone started collapsing one by one, I also immediately pretended to fall over,” Kirigiri said.

“Pretended? What do you mean, pretended? Are you saying you’re the only one that nothing happened to?”

“Yes. The smoke itself was harmless. I think the reason why everyone collapsed wasn’t because of the the white smoke but rather because of some other cause. In fact, the first person who collapsed did so before the smoke appeared. It is likely that everyone was drugged with sleeping pills at some point. Any idea when?

“Nope… there weren’t any sleeping pills.”

I don’t know about everyone else, but I haven’t eaten or drank anything since I arrived at Sirius Observatory. There’s no way I could’ve been drugged.

But thinking back on it, I did feel kind of intoxicated right before I passed out. Though I just thought I wasn’t feeling well…

“But still, how are you the only one who was able to avoid any danger?”

“Perhaps it’s because I’ve been training all this time,” she said bluntly. “I’m good at sensing danger. But when I do sense it, it’s usually nothing more than a mere “bad feeling” or “foreboding”, and it is only in retrospect that I can find patterns to piece together a logical explanation of why… My grandfather used to call it ‘hearing the footsteps of the Grim Reaper.’”

It’s just like how skilled mathematicians can end up stumbling across a new theorem even when skipping calculations along the way. It’s not uncommon to hear of cases where they find it hard to explain how they did it afterwards. No way, could she also be that kind of genius?

No, given that we still haven’t been able to determine the reason why we fainted, it’s possible that it’s nothing more than her spouting nonsense.

I mean, ‘training’…?

“With everyone collapsing one after the other, it was clear that some sort of horrible criminal scheme had been set in motion,” Kirigiri continued. “I pretended to collapse and tried to ascertain what the criminal’s intentions were. But at that moment, I heard the footsteps of the Grim Reaper again.”

“What happened?”

“Those footsteps were the killer’s footsteps. The killer seemed very cautious in nature. They came closer to me and forced me to inhale some kind of strange chemicals. It wasn’t chloroform or ether. It probably wasn’t anesthesia either… It may have been some kind of synthetic drug. They pressed a handkerchief down on my face, and for a while I tried to strain my breathing to prevent myself from inhaling, but before I knew it I was unconscious…”

So in the end, she was knocked out too?

Huh? Wait a minute.

Shears, severed corpses, fainting drugs… 

That list of items sounds kind of familiar.

No… I remember this combination of items.

It can’t be… There’s no way that’s possible.

Anyway, for now I just need to hear Kirigiri’s words out to the end. It might all just be my misunderstanding.

“Did the culprit know that you were just pretending to have fainted?”

“No, I don’t think they knew. They probably went around putting the handkerchief over everyone’s mouth. To make sure they would all pass out.”

“And then?”

“Even in my hazy consciousness, I still attempted to resist.”

In the middle of her largely indifferent narration, this was the only moment where Kirigiri seemed to deliberately insert a pause. It was as if she was proudly showing off her accomplishment. 

“And?”

“I grabbed the culprit’s hand.”

“Grabbed it?” I replied, disappointed. “That’s it?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to scratch or bite them, but I was able to touch their hand. With the white smoke blocking my vision, the feel of that hand has turned out to be the only clue leading to the culprit.”

“What kind of feel was it?”

“It was a man’s hand.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“There was nothing distinctive about that hand, but there’s no doubt that it belonged to a man. There is no place where the difference between men and women is more apparent than in the hands and fingertips.”

“Hmm… is that really true in practice? I mean, have you ever even held a man’s hand before?” I asked, and she froze, taken aback by my question.

There was a long pause—

Then, she resumed her explanation as if nothing had happened.

“I’ve never killed anyone, but I’ve learned how it feels to kill someone. It’s the exact same thing. Understood? So I’ll continue with my story now…”

“Wait, that logic makes no sense. Don’t tell me you’ve never even held hands with a boy before…”

After saying these mean-spirited words, she went silent once again. She must have really gotten angry with me this time. She turned away from me as if rejecting the conversation entirely. 

I might have gone a little too far with the teasing. Despite speaking and acting all cold and indifferent, her reactions are surprisingly genuine, which makes me want to tease her even more.

“Sorry, sorry, that was a strange topic for me to butt into,” I apologized. “You’ve probably at least held your father’s hand before. That’s enough to satisfy the requirements for your logic, so let’s just move on.”

“I’ve forgotten.”

“What?”

“I’m saying I’ve forgotten what my father’s hand feels like.”

Kirigiri narrowed her eyes, brushing back her bangs with her right hand. It was the most emotional gesture I had ever seen her make until now. “I-I see. Got it.”

I said that as if to dismiss her. How complicated. She seems to have her own tangled web of circumstances going on, but if I get too hung up on it, there’s no way this conversation will move forward.

“So basically, what you’re trying to say is that… Because the person who knocked you out was a man, you can logically conclude that I, Yui Samidare, am not the culprit, right?”

Kirigiri nodded, still turned away from me.

Among the detectives that came to the Sirius Observatory, the only women were me and Kyoko Kirigiri. If her claim is correct, then I am ruled out as the culprit.

“But that’s what I said from the start,” I said with a sigh. “From my perspective, the fact that I’m not the killer is the truth. There’s no need for me to prove it.”

“No, from my perspective, I can’t call that complete proof quite yet.”

“What, you mean you can’t actually prove it until you touch my hand?”

When I asked her, Kirigiri’s eyes were cast downwards as if searching for the right words, then she turned only her eyes toward me and gave a small nod in affirmation.

“…Your hand.”

She said it hesitantly and requested my right hand.

She seems serious.

Is this a trap?

Maybe she really is the culprit, and all the testimony she’s given until now has just been a bunch of lies to get me to come closer to her. She may be concealing some kind of weapon and is just trying to lure me into her range of attack.

Kyoko Kirigiri—I still don’t know much about her. We’ve only known each other for a short time, and the only things I’ve learned about her in this brief period are that she seems mysterious and has a complicated family situation. Even if she insists on my innocence, I still can’t put my trust in her.

“All right, let’s make up with this handshake.” However, I still didn’t get closer to her. “But the real handshake will come later once everything is resolved and both of us are safe.”

“What do you mean?”

“First, sit in that chair,” I ordered her.

She had remained seated on the floor next to the chair this whole time, but she obeyed my words and sat down on the armchair.

“Well then, give me your right hand.”

Just as she told me to, I held out my hand.

I cautiously approached her and took her small hand. I tried not to let go of her hand, which was like a piece of glass that would break with just a little bit of force.

Her left hand is still restrained by the handcuffs. Holding her right hand like this, there’s no danger of her attacking me. 

Exchanging a handshake as if trying to scope each other out, our gazes met.

“How about it? Were you able to see the truth? But let’s talk about that later. As a detective, I also need to try seeking my own truth.”

“What are you going to do?”

“First of all, I think we need to investigate the inside of this building one more time,” I say, the two of us still holding each other’s hand. “I’m still suspicious of you. You’re also a detective, so you probably can’t completely accept my claims either, right? But still, if I want to continue suspecting you… There’s still one more condition that hasn’t been fulfilled for me to indict you as the culprit. That is, to investigate the possibility of an external culprit. Aside from us five guests, is there someone else who was able to enter and exit from here?”

“You still haven’t confirmed that?”

“… Y-Yeah, I’m still half awake, so,” I respond, flustered at her retort. “A crime committed by an uninvited sixth guest… If I can prove that, then I’ll be okay with setting you free.”

“You need to investigate that as soon as possible. Before the snow erases the evidence. Especially outside the windows and outside the front door. Are there any traces of someone entering or leaving?”

“I’ll investigate that.”

“If there is an uninvited guest, that person must be a man. And they might still be hiding inside this building.”

Kirigiri looked a little bit uneasy.

“Yeah, I’ll confirm that. By myself. Sorry, but I need you to stay like this. I’ll also tie up your right hand.”

If she really is the culprit, that would make her the one who prepared the handcuffs. In that case, there is the possibility that she has a spare key hidden somewhere. She might unlock the handcuffs after I leave from here. Therefore it’s necessary to restrain both of her hands.

“I have no ill will.”

“I know that. I would be more concerned if you weren’t the kind of person who would think of that,” Kirigiri said with a cold expression.

However, even though I said I would restrain her, I don’t have any handcuffs or rope or anything to use to bind her hand.

“My ribbon.”

“… Are you okay with that?”

“If it’s to prove my innocence,” she confirmed with a nod.

I undid one of the ribbons tied around her left and right braids. Using that ribbon, I tied her right arm to the armrest of the armchair.

“Now I’ll go around investigating the rooms one by one. If there’s an uninvited guest hiding somewhere, they might be moving from room to room hiding in different places to ensure I don’t find them. But from your position in the central hall, you can see that kind of movement right in plain sight.”

“So you want me to serve as surveillance?”

“Exactly. But with both of your hands tied up, the presence of an uninvited guest could be very dangerous. Since we’re dealing with a gruesome murderer, after all. If he ever shows up, scream as loud as you can. I’ll come save you as soon as I can.” 

“You’ll save me?”

“If the existence of an uninvited guest is clear, that would prove your innocence. I’ll protect you with all my strength.”

“That is true… Although I think at that point it would be too late.” As usual, Kirigiri behaved like she was an outsider looking in on this whole situation. “But dare I say, I don’t think it is logical to conclude I am innocent just based on the presence of an uninvited guest. The reason that person is hiding may not necessarily be connected to the murder, or…”

“I don’t care either way, geez,” I said, interrupting her. “If there’s some shady guy sneaking around in this situation, it clearly makes the most sense to kick the hell out of them.”

“…That’s true,” she responded meekly.

“I don’t think there’s anyone who would be going in and out of such a remote building in the middle of a snowstorm though… All right then, I’ll go investigate.”

I left Kirigiri behind and investigated the inside of the rooms in order, starting with the nearest one. I opened the curtains, checked the locks on the windows, and checked the state of the snow outside. 

I quickly went around confirming the condition of the windows in all of the rooms. As a result, I found out that the windows in all of the rooms were locked from the inside. There were no signs of snow around the windows either. There were no air-conditioning vents or any other third-party windows. Which means it’s not possible for someone to have locked the windows using a string. 

Next, I investigated the entrance. The front door was still locked, and even when I did a further check of the snow outside, there were no indications of anyone entering or leaving. 

In conclusion, I couldn’t find any evidence that anyone had entered or left the building. Nor did I end up discovering the presence of somebody other than me or Kirigiri - that is, an uninvited guest.

In the hall, Kirigiri was still tied to the chair, waiting for me to return.

“I’m sorry, but unfortunately it looks like there’s no one here besides me and you.”

“Were there no traces of snow from outside?”

“Nope. With this blizzard any traces will quickly be erased by the falling snow, but even so, if someone walked across the snow, it would have definitely left indentations in that area. But there were no unnatural spots like that anywhere.”

This made the murder case even more inexplicable.

No, on the contrary, I guess you could say it has become much simpler.

The Sirius Observatory can be likened to a sealed container. As long as the container is sealed, the amount of solid inside can’t increase or decrease. In other words, if there are three dead bodies and two survivors, one of the two survivors has to be the culprit. Therefore, the culprit has to be Kyoko Kirigiri.

The person in question is looking up at me, her eyes filled with anticipation.

I feel bad for her, but I can’t release her from her restraints just yet.

In theory, there’s no doubt that she’s the culprit. However, it was also true that I still hadn’t accepted that answer. How could it be possible for a girl like her to kill three grown men and then lay their corpses out on the beds?

“I don’t know what’s going on anymore… what the hell even is this case?” I complained without thinking. “This strange building… and this strange request letter… But I’ve finally figured one thing out. I'm sure the case written about in that black letter wasn’t a case they were planning on requesting us to take, but rather the case that we ourselves would get dragged into.”

“Yui onee-sama,” Kirigiri interrupted me. “What are you talking about?”

“Huh? I’m talking about the client’s request. There was a black letter that came with the request, right? Wasn’t this location, the murder weapon, and such written inside?”

“…Show me that black letter.”

“Sure?”

Leaving Kirigiri behind in the chair, I went back to my room and rummaged through my backpack. I pulled out a black letter from inside and returned to the hall.

“Open it and show it to me.”

I obeyed Kirigiri’s desperate command without even thinking. From the black envelope, I took out a folded piece of black washi paper. On it was a letter written in white brushstrokes. 

As soon as she saw it, Kirigiri turned paler than ever, as if all the blood had drained from her face.

“Yui onee-sama… this isn’t just an ordinary murder case.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“This is most likely… a game.”

#danganronpa #danganronpa kirigiri #kyoko kirigiri #yui samidare #my translations

[midnightfantasiez]

Shape Of You | Ju Haknyeon

SUMMARY: all you wanted to do was to rekindle your passion for pottery, which was the reason you decided to sign up for the newly opened studio near your neighbourhood. what you didn't expect was that the instructor himself turned out to be a dashing young male, and soon you find yourself going back to the lessons for him instead.

PAIRING: potter!Haknyeon x afab!reader

GENRE: smut (18+ MDNI!!)

WARNINGS: kissing, petnames (babygirl, princess, baby), breast play, body worship, praise kink, fingering (reader receiving), cum tasting, choking, p in v sex, slight manipulation

WORD COUNT: 3,072

A/N: this is for me & @ethereal-engene 🤠 happy hakkie day!! 🍊 blessing deobiblr with more hakkie fics bcs this underrated man deserves more love & attention 😤💕 also a huge shoutout to @snowflakewhispers for beta reading this for me 🩵

As you stood outside of the address you had keyed into your phone, you couldn’t help but let dread and anxiety creep in, prompting you to question whether the decision you had made a mere twenty-four hours ago was even worth it.

The spring break had finally arrived, and you had always wanted to keep your schedule busy despite having the time to eventually relax after all of those gruelling hours of studying and being all sleep-deprived to finish your assignments and thesis. You’ve been working part-time at your local coffee shop, but you decided it was time to take a little break from that and try out some other hobbies for a while.

One of the things that have always caught your eye as you were scrolling through hundreds of videos on social medias were on pottery—something that you have always loved and intrigued by since a young age.

You recall how your late aunt was a master at pottery, and you would always visit her little shop back in your hometown whenever you went back to visit her during your younger days. Unfortunately, her studio closed down when she passed away when you were in middle school, and with it, your love for pottery was lost.

But that all changed when you came across a little advertisement about a brand-new pottery studio that just opened the month before in your neighbourhood. The location was near your campus, and you were quickly drawn to the pieces they produced and the atmosphere of the place. After all, social media truly enhances everything.

Since you finally had some time on your hands and decided it wouldn’t hurt to return to your roots, you signed up for the classes the pottery studio was running for the season. Also, the student discount seemed far too appealing.

After standing at the front door for a good ten minutes, you decided that it was time for you to finally step into the studio before others began to judge you for acting like an outcast. Before your fingertips could touch the handle, the door swung open, causing you to jump back in shock, but nothing could have prepared you for the sight of the beautiful young man standing in front of you.

His platinum blonde hair was parted to reveal flawless skin, the translucent frames of his glasses did little to dull the sparkle of his kind eyes, and you were way too fixated on his gorgeous face to even take in the rest of his appearance.

He looks way too hot to be a pottery instructor.

“Ah! You must be Miss Y/N? You’re one of the last students we are expecting for the day,” the male replied with a big smile plastered on his face.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to be late—”

“What? No!” He chuckled, seemingly slightly taken aback by your slight panic reaction. “There’s still five minutes before the lesson begins, the others just came too early.”

Just like that, he guided you in with his gentle gestures and brought you on a little tour around the shop. It wasn’t too big, but it wasn’t too small either; hell, they even had a little greenhouse on the rooftop.

After taking you around while breaking the ice between you two, he eventually led you to the locker room, showing you your very own space to keep your belongings as well as changing into a more comfortable attire (pretty much taking off that stylish jacket you were wearing and putting on their classic brown apron on).

“Take your time, alright? I’m going to have to head out first to set up the equipment before the lesson starts. I’ll see you outside,” he winked as he leaned onto the locker beside you before moving away to give you some space to change as he walked out the door.

And there you stood, feeling a little stunned as you unconsciously tightened your grip on your apron.

I don’t think this is a good idea, after all.

It was only when the class had actually started that you realized that you were completely wrong about the assumption that you had made in the locker room. You thought that this particular instructor was nothing more than a pretty face. But it turns out that he was practically a master at crafting.

As the lesson began, he introduced himself as Haknyeon, and he started showing off all of the artworks that he had crafted beforehand. If you were going to be honest, his pieces could definitely be on par with your late aunt’s or even surpass hers. He started off simply by crafting a basic flower pot, and you could tell that everyone in the room was in awe of how meticulous and delicate he was with his fingers.

Haknyeon left no room for any potential error. He took the time to get every single detail as accurate as he could, making the perfect flower pot in no time. As soon as he had finished, he instructed that everyone could begin experimenting with the clay, and he would go around extending assistance to anyone who needed it.

Things started fairly well, and you didn’t need much assistance. You were pretty well-versed in all of the basics, thanks to all of the training your aunt gave you when you were younger. You were taking your own time, sculpting the clay to the best of your abilities, while you relished the feeling of all the pent-up stress leaving your body.

Just when you thought you would be able to finish your work all on your own, you felt a presence behind you, and a pair of gentle hands covered yours.

“You definitely need some strength here to make that indent you’re aiming for,” Haknyeon whispered, gradually guiding your movements while he brought his face closer to yours. Naturally, you began to blush within his presence, feeling dazed by the scent of his cologne and the intimacy of his actions.

When he was finished with you, you could’ve sworn that he hesitated to remove his hands from yours, smoothing his hands over the skin of your arms and shoulders before he finally walked away to assist another student on the other side of the room.

You could only stare back at him in longing and ensure that your eyes followed his every movement, and nothing could stop the heat from rapidly engulfing your cheeks.

And suddenly, you get a sneaking suspicion that your instructor isn’t going to stop there.

You weren’t too sure if you were coming back for the remaining classes at this point.

Ever since that first day of lessons you have had with one another the first lesson, it seemed that Haknyeon had taken a liking towards you, insisting that your work was one of the finest he had seen around the neighbourhood among all of his students. At the same time, you were drawn in by the relaxing atmosphere and the people around you; going to the studio has become your little escape from reality, taking your mind off your responsibilities for a while.

But you knew that all of these weren’t the reasons why you decided to return after that first class.

Ju Haknyeon.

It seemed that he had taken a liking to you since the very first lesson. There was something mysterious about him, but you could hardly begin to explain what it was. Whatever he was doing, he definitely had you wrapped around his finger, evident in the way you had shown up at the studio's front door, faced with a sign that said, “sorry, we’re closed.”

Something in your gut told you that you needed to work on some clay for the day; otherwise, you might go insane. Or maybe you just needed to see your hot instructor today.

So there you were, standing at the entrance at ten in the morning, waiting for the man in question to pull the front door open to greet you.

As you began to come up with potential excuses for your visitation for the day while trying your best not to sound too obvious that you were deprived desperate to see him, he eventually nods but with a smirk plastered on his once sweet and angelic face.

“Come on in, there’s something I’d like for you to try. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

It all started with Haknyeon telling you that he has been working on sculpting bodies from clay before you arrived and asked if you were interested to help him out. Clueless, you quickly nodded your head in agreement before allowing him to guide you towards an empty room—one that he didn’t usually use whenever other students were around.

In Haknyeon’s private studio, he could work on whatever he desired in uninterrupted peace. He’d been busying himself with a new collection of sculptures—inspiration had struck a few weeks prior, and he had been developing his “passion project” ever since. However, the collection he’d been working on had never been displayed for public viewing, and it was to be kept a secret until he deemed it appropriate.

Upon entering the room, you could see tons of clay sculptures of the female form displayed throughout the room, the sight of something so erotic causing your jaw to fall open in shock. Your reaction didn’t go unnoticed by Haknyeon, and he immediately asked if you could help him with his “special project”.

At that moment, your cheeks were ablaze, and you could’ve sworn that you were about to pass out with all the suppressed emotions you had felt about the man himself. Things only got worse when he gently placed both hands on your shoulders, giving you a little massage while trying to persuade you to be his muse for his project.

One thing led to another, and now you were lying on a couch that was situated at the far right corner of the room, stripping yourself naked with only your underwear on as you tried your best to “lay down sensually”, as requested by the sculptor himself. At the same time, he ran his eyes over the curves of your body and worked with the clay in his hands.

Throughout the entire session, Haknyeon praised you for literally every single thing—how beautiful you were, how you positioned yourself on the couch, and even how perfect your body proportions were.

You had no idea what made you say “yes” to the man. Perhaps he really was capable of manipulating people, or rather, women; because you sure couldn’t seem to find a way out of his trap.

You weren’t too sure how much longer you were able to keep up with the whole act, so you began to shift your position while making an excuse to possibly leave the room for a while until Haknyeon replied with a little growl.

You watched as he ruffled his hair in frustration and rose from his desk. Then, he began to stride over to the couch, and you couldn’t help but feel intimidated by his looming presence. The couch dipped as he crawled towards you, his large hands slowly trailing over your bare skin from your thigh up to your breasts and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“H-Haknyeon…what are you doing—”

“Y/N, I think the best way for me to nail perfect my project is to truly examine my muse up close, even if it means getting a hands-on experience.”

In an instant, the look in his eyes had changed drastically, his usually warm eyes now swirling with something more sinister. Without so much as a warning, he made his move by massaging your breast, eliciting a moan from you. Your reaction to the sensations was instant—you threw your head back against the couch, and shivers ran down your spine as you let his hands roam over the expanse of your skin.

Haknyeon was deeply satisfied with the sight of you unravelling beneath him, immediately sneaking his free hand under the waistband of your underwear, rubbing over your core, delighting in the way you were absolutely drenched for him. He smirked at that, truly enjoying every response he pulled from your body and how your face contorted into the most beautiful expressions.

“Yes, that’s it, babygirl. You’re doing so well for me. That’s exactly how you should be reacting.”

You couldn’t even give him a proper response, for you were slowly losing your grip on your sanity, trying to resist the onslaught of pleasure.

Unfortunately, he didn’t stop there, and he continued to tug your underwear to the side while he slid a finger into your entrance, pumping it in and out shallowly. The motions had your moans increasing in volume, urging Haknyeon to pick up the pace. He added a second finger, and with that, the pumps of his fingers became more forceful, working to numb your mind with adrenaline.

“Oh my god, that’s it, Y/N. You’re giving me exactly what I need,” he huffed, building his ungodly pace as he hammered into your g-spot, the pleasure far too overwhelming that you couldn’t even feel your lungs burn as you screamed.

All self-control had slipped beyond your reach—your back arched off the couch, your lips rounded in a shrill cry, and your thighs trembled as you squirted all over his fingers. He withdrew his fingers from within you, cursing at the way his fingers dripped with your fluids, and his lips curled into a smirk as he prodded his fingertips against your bottom lip.

“Open up, baby. Taste yourself for me.”

Without hesitation, you slowly parted your lips, granting him entry to press his fingers into your mouth. on instinct, you close your lips around them, swirling your tongue over his fingers and not even caring that you can taste your own juices.

“How is it, sweetheart? Do you think you’ve done a great job?”

You panted. “M-mhm…”

Haknyeon only replied with a smile. “Good. Because then you’re ready for the next step.”

Without much warning, Haknyeon hastily stripped himself of all of his clothing, laying down next to you as he cradled you in his arms while he positioned his exposed cock right in front of your entrance, rubbing his tip up and down at your core.

As your moan once filled the room again, Haknyeon then slowly began caressing your cheek before gently whispering into your ears. “Listen, sweetheart. I’m going to need your full cooperation for this next step of the project, and you’ll listen to whatever I tell you to do without fail.”

Just like that, he pushes his member right into you with one swift motion, giving you a few seconds to adjust to his length and bulge before he starts pounding into you with a steady pace. Haknyeon then lifts your thigh to wrap it around his hips, giving him a lot more space to pound further into you.

“O-Oh my god! Haknyeon!”

“You’re doing so good for me, keep it coming, babygirl. It’s only going to get better soon.”

“H-Haknyeon…” you panted as you tried your best to speak as coherently as possible. “Y-Your project…”

“Yes…we’re getting closer to the end product, Y/N.”

As he sped up and the sounds of both of your skins slapping against each other become much more prominent throughout the room, Haknyeon then rests his thumb on your lips, prying them open to make sure that you were to give him the response he desperately craved.

“Remember I told you about putting pressure on your clay piece?” he rasps, “I’m going to need you to tell me if this is the right amount of strength you should be using.”

With that, he wraps his hands around your neck, gently squeezing it so that your mouth now forms an ‘O’ shape, trying your best to get a grip while gasping for air.

“Is this the right amount of pressure, sweetheart?”

“I-I don’t know…”

“Nuh-uh. Not the right answer.” Haknyeon increased the pressure slightly. “What about now?”

“H-Haknyeon…I-I can’t…”

“Not until you tell me the right answer, princess,” the male responded as he presses even harder.

This time it was certainly much harder than the first two attempts, and you were confident that if you don’t give him the answer he wants now, then this is going to escalate a lot further, and you weren’t too sure if you have had enough strength to last till then.

“Y-Yes! It’s the right one! I remembered!” You screamed, making him let go of his hands around your neck before sealing his lips with yours, covering up your moans before giving him one last push as both of you were nearing your climax at this point.

In less than a minute, both of you eventually came together, and it was a total mess as both of your liquids came running down the couch. As you both finally come down from your high, he removes his cock from your entrance before rubbing them against your clit slowly once again, leaving tons of pecks and kisses all over your face and neck.

“Oh, Y/N. You are unquestionably the best person to serve as my personal muse for this "special project."

“W-What? Aren’t all of those clay sculptures from your previous clients or something?” You questioned.

Haknyeon only responded with a peck on your lips before flipping you over so that you were straddling him. He has locked you right on his toned abs by gripping both of your hips with his hands, giving you no room for escape but to only stare right into his lust-filled eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart. All of these sculptures around us are all about you. I’ve never seen someone quite as exquisite as you, and I am going to examine the shape of you from inside and out. We’re going to have loads of fun, I promise.”

masterlist

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#🍊 — happy haknyeon day! #deoboyznet #k-vanity #k-labels #kflixnet #the boyz #tbz #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #the boyz imagines #the boyz fanfic #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #tbz fanfics #ju haknyeon #ju haknyeon x reader #ju haknyeon smut #haknyeon smut #the boyz smut #tbz smut #haknyeon imagines #haknyeon scenarios

[sorrows-of-young-werther-daily]

September 4

It is even so! As nature puts on her autumn tints it becomes autumn with me and around me. My leaves are sere and yellow, and the neighbouring trees are divested of their foliage. Do you remember my writing to you about a peasant boy shortly after my arrival here? I have just made inquiries about him in Walheim. They say he has been dismissed from his service, and is now avoided by every one. I met him yesterday on the road, going to a neighbouring village. I spoke to him, and he told me his story. It interested me exceedingly, as you will easily understand when I repeat it to you. But why should I trouble you? Why should I not reserve all my sorrow for myself? Why should I continue to give you occasion to pity and blame me? But no matter: this also is part of my destiny.

At first the peasant lad answered my inquiries with a sort of subdued melancholy, which seemed to me the mark of a timid disposition; but, as we grew to understand each other, he spoke with less reserve, and openly confessed his faults, and lamented his misfortune. I wish, my dear friend, I could give proper expression to his language. He told me with a sort of pleasurable recollection, that, after my departure, his passion for his mistress increased daily, until at last he neither knew what he did nor what he said, nor what was to become of him. He could neither eat nor drink nor sleep: he felt a sense of suffocation; he disobeyed all orders, and forgot all commands involuntarily; he seemed as if pursued by an evil spirit, till one day, knowing that his mistress had gone to an upper chamber, he had followed, or, rather, been drawn after her. As she proved deaf to his entreaties, he had recourse to violence. He knows not what happened; but he called God to witness that his intentions to her were honourable, and that he desired nothing more sincerely than that they should marry, and pass their lives together. When he had come to this point, he began to hesitate, as if there was something which he had not courage to utter, till at length he acknowledged with some confusion certain little confidences she had encouraged, and liberties she had allowed. He broke off two or three times in his narration, and assured me most earnestly that he had no wish to make her bad, as he termed it, for he loved her still as sincerely as ever; that the tale had never before escaped his lips, and was only now told to convince me that he was not utterly lost and abandoned. And here, my dear friend, I must commence the old song which you know I utter eternally. If I could only represent the man as he stood, and stands now before me, could I only give his true expressions, you would feel compelled to sympathise in his fate. But enough: you, who know my misfortune and my disposition, can easily comprehend the attraction which draws me toward every unfortunate being, but particularly toward him whose story I have recounted.

On perusing this letter a second time, I find I have omitted the conclusion of my tale; but it is easily supplied. She became reserved toward him, at the instigation of her brother who had long hated him, and desired his expulsion from the house, fearing that his sister's second marriage might deprive his children of the handsome fortune they expected from her; as she is childless. He was dismissed at length; and the whole affair occasioned so much scandal, that the mistress dared not take him back, even if she had wished it. She has since hired another servant, with whom, they say, her brother is equally displeased, and whom she is likely to marry; but my informant assures me that he himself is determined not to survive such a catastrophe.

This story is neither exaggerated nor embellished: indeed, I have weakened and impaired it in the narration, by the necessity of using the more refined expressions of society.

This love, then, this constancy, this passion, is no poetical fiction. It is actual, and dwells in its greatest purity amongst that class of mankind whom we term rude, uneducated. We are the educated, not the perverted. But read this story with attention, I implore you. I am tranquil to-day, for I have been employed upon this narration: you see by my writing that I am not so agitated as usual. I read and re-read this tale, Wilhelm: it is the history of your friend! My fortune has been and will be similar; and I am neither half so brave nor half so determined as the poor wretch with whom I hesitate to compare myself.

#the sorrows of young werther daily #september 4

[pasteladins]

So I was getting my folders ready for school tomorrow and this paper fell out. I don't remember when I drew this but I am losing my mind.

#binch #I must have been so sleep deprived to have drawn this #doodles #why am I like this #Seefy says

[ephemerensis]

Economics // Tim Drake x GN! Reader

Just a short vent one shot because economics has me foaming at the mouth right now and Tim is the only one getting me through it. Tim comes home one night to find you crying over economics. 

--

Tim was exhausted after coming back from a mission. He hadn’t slept in days; working tirelessly to track this lead down just so he could intercept the criminal at the right moment. And he did. He always did. 

That was one thing you loved about him. He was a workaholic but damn did it pay off. 

Now though, as he lugged himself up the stairs after rinsing the blood, sweat, and tears off of him in the Batcave, all he wanted was to run into your embrace and get some well deserved sleep. 

You were in his bedroom. You always were when he was on a high stakes mission, likely tangled up in his blankets as you absorbed his scent and even though you fully understood his capabilities— hoped and prayed that he would be safe. 

Today shouldn’t have been any different. 

Pushing open the door silently, Tim slipped in and tossed his suit aside. His first instinct was to look to the bed, waiting for your eyes to peek out, filled with relief and love and everything else. 

But you weren’t there. 

Assuming you weren’t in the room, he turned around to properly put his suit in the laundry. He almost jumped when he saw it. 

You were hunched over a book, hood pulled up over your head as your hands tugged on the strings. The ghastly yellow light cast by his flickering desk lamp didn’t help the gremlin-esque ambiance.

You didn’t hear him enter, silence was one of his best attributes after all, so when he gently cleared his throat to alert you, you jolted slightly. Your head whipped in his direction, but he couldn't see your face with the hoodie strings drawn as taught as you drew them. Turning your head back to the book, you let go of one of the strings, giving him a dejected wave. 

Walking over to you, he touched your shoulder lightly. You normally were beyond elated to see him back, talking his ear off about how much you loved him and were glad he was okay and ask how the mission was and what you did while he was gone. The lack of response, to him, must mean you were angry. 

“Hey? Are you okay?”

When you didn’t reply, he furrowed his brows, getting on his knees to look at you. One hand reached for yours while the other took to tilting your head in his direction. You tried pulling away, but he remained steadfast. 

“(Y/N) I don’t know what I did but can you at least tell me if you’re mad? Please, darling, just talk to me.”

You shook your head, pulling away from him and he let go this time. And that was when he heard it. You tried to stifle it but you sniffled. That and paired with your slightly labored breathing was enough for him to know. Gently grabbing your face again, he undid the scrunching on your hood and peeled it off to reveal your wide eyed, lip quivering, tear stained face. 

His eyes widened slightly and his brows kitted deeper with concern. His hand reached and caressed your face, thumb softly running over your cheek. 

Those blue eyes. Those blue blue eyes. You adored them. Normally they lit up when they locked with your own, always strung with a slight sleep deprived glaze but filled with nothing but love for you nonetheless. Instead, they were filled with worry. They bore into your own, asking, begging, to know what ailed you.

“Oh no, baby what’s wrong?”

That was enough to do it.

A sob broke out from your throat, contorting your face as you started crying. He got off the ground, pulling your head to his torso in an embrace. He held you for a moment, letting you cry softly into him, tears staining the shirt he’d just changed into. His hand reached to pat your back in a soothing, steady, rhythm until you quieted down. When you seemed to calm enough, he pulled back to look at you. Your shoulders still heaved as you hiccupped, still actively choking on the occasional sob. He continued to stroke your hair as your head fell forward, resting on his abdomen. 

“Please don’t cry… Can you tell me what it is? If you’re comfortable?”

You shook your head. Your breath was ragged, voice slightly cracking as you replied. 

“I-it’s stupid.”

“No it’s not. Darling, nothing’s stupid if it’s making you cry. What is it?”

He sounded so gentle and genuine. It was a wonder he could ever intimidate anyone at all with the way his voice sounded right now. It was moments like these that made you melt completely. He was physically drained, mentally exhausted, and completely sleep deprived and yet he still had the time to prioritize you. 

Burying your face fully onto his shirt you mumbled, “icampumberfandeconomicpowicy.”

“What?”

You said it again, still planted into the fabric of his tee. 

“Baby, I can’t hear you.”

That was four times in a row now. He rarely called you anything other than your name. Not because he couldn’t or didn’t want to, he was just shy. There were other ways to convey his affections and you never felt anything short of loved. But now, in this state, they were what you needed to hear. The words were so accessible, it would’ve been a loss not to use them. 

Pulling away from you slightly so your words wouldn’t be muffled, he tilted your chin up to look at him. And look you did. Tear stains, puffy eyes, running nose, and all. Concerned cerulean eyes searched yours through the dark. He looked so beautiful illuminated by the moonlight, soft lines etched into his face where his skin creased with worry for you. How could he still love you when you were in shambles? Let alone hurt? You couldn’t do that him. 

“I can’t understand economic policy.” 

It was almost a whisper, but he heard it. 

He blinked a few times, processing the words before sighing in relief. Tim didn’t even know he was holding his breath until the sweet taste of air returned to his lungs. He pulled you in for a hug again, face settling into a soft smile, exhaling a quiet chuckle. The relief hit like an absolute unit, flowing over him in waves. You weren’t angry. Above that you weren’t hurt. If there was one constant variable he could depend on, it was you. He wouldn’t know what he would do without you. If ecstasy was an illusion you were as close to real as it could get.

“Oh god, (Y/N)…” He was so whipped.  “Economics is tricky isn’t it? I’ll take the day off tomorrow and explain all of it to you, how does that sound?”

His comforting tone set you off again. Your forehead leaned forward to rest against him as your fists made contact with his chest. Not that he felt it.

“I mean what kind of masochistic asshole invented fiscal policy!”

Tim pressed his lips together, holding back a grin as he stifled a laugh instead opting for a strong exhale. Hearing his amusement made you push him away. You crossed your arms, glaring at him through bloodshot eyes. 

“Tim it’s not funny!”

He just shook his head, pulling you in again anyways. His eyes fluttered shut, bending down slightly to rest his chin on your head. 

“I thought you were upset with me. I can’t stand it when you’re angry with me.” He murmured it into your hair. 

That certainly softened your mood. 

Wrapping your arms back around him, you pursed your lips in guilt. The tears had stopped now. 

You loved him. Beyond reason you loved him. Even if your other emotions got ahead of you sometimes, he always found a way to crawl back into the forefront of your mind. 

“I’m sorry.”

You stayed like that for a while. The room was so quiet, all you hear was the steady lull of his heart, and the occasional sniffle.

“Can we go to sleep now?” 

He broke the silence. 

There wasn’t much to see under the cover of darkness but the bags under his eyes were as prominent as ever, and the physical exertion undoubtedly made him look a little worse for wear. 

With a small smile, you nodded. 

“Yeah, let’s go to sleep.”

#tim drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake x fem!reader #tim drake x male reader #tim drake x you #fanfic #tim drake fanfic #dc #batman #vent #robin #red robin #red robin x reader #robin x reader #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #bruce wayne #timothy jackson drake #tim drake imagine #dc comics imagine

[shirecorn]

how about 17 and 24? what inspires you and how do you deal with art block?

Long post warning.

Art block...

I don't actually get art block, which is probably a combination of neurodivergence and drawing every day for the last 3 years

I wrote an entire tutorial about how to do that, but didn't feel like illustrating it. Would people want to read it even without visuals?

Maybe... I'll just start rambling.

There's a couple different types of art block, and it's really just a philosophy puzzle to get past them. I'm going to assume that the things I think of slow days, or art mud, is a milder form of art block and work through that.

Art block is a symptom, not a disease. You probably have something deep inside that you don't want to face, or don't know how. Sometimes you need to discover the cause, sometimes just power through.

Method 1: Rest

Let yourself just Exist. The act of consuming art is part of the process. Watching shows and playing games, taking a break and going gardening or focus on school. This is what you need for burnout-induced art block.

Method 2: Action

I always choose action, sometimes it means a tiny 2 min sketch per day. Ugly or super simplified. As long as I don't stop moving.

Toss everything. Start every piece thinking you will throw it away.

The act of drawing moves you forward; pinning it to the fridge does not. Don't work things until they are perfect. Work them until they are there.

Art block causes and solutions:

- No Inspiration

Not sure what to draw, nothing seems appealing. Art won't come out like it used to.

Do studies from life or photos. Sketch, paint, digital, traditional, doesn't matter. Rocks, fruit, figure drawing, landscapes, buildings, anything.

Study and copy professional's work. Old masters are best, like rubens, michalangelo (only his men tho) etc because they will teach you anatomy while you work. If you copy someone with a lot of flaws, you will repeat those flaws.

Trace to learn, not to earn. Trace photography and art from anyone you want. Don't post it unless you have the artist's permission or they are dead, whichever comes first. This is strictly work for yourself, on yourself. It's not about the finished drawing.

Find an artist with a fun style and try converting stuff into their style. Don't make that your new style though and especially don't start selling it. Your style is a chimera of everyone you love, not a clone of one person.

Take blurry photos. You don't need a fancy camera or good skills or beautiful subjects. Doing studies from your own photos can spark life into your workflow.

Make challenges for yourself. Randomly generate things to combine. Try fusing characters! Don't try to make it look good, just be fun.

Doodle patterns, swirls, lines, random stuff. Try looking up art warmups and doing some of those.

- Everything Sucks

You finally see how bad you are. Or somehow you got worse. Every piece is a fight and you spend hours trying to get something right only for it to be stiff and disgusting and STILL wrong.

Why are you trying to draw good? It's enough just to draw.

Accept that your art is bad. Every artist can see flaws in their work. Your problem is that those flaws outweigh anything remotely worthwhile and hurt to look at.

So what? You're in a period of growth, not a period of production. Keep that wonky second eye. Let them have hot dog fingers.

Show everyone! Show no one! No piece of art can ever be a reflection of the artist. Not their worth, not their skill. The only thing your art says about you is "Held and moved a pen for a bit."

Make bad art. It's ok. Most of the time, the pressure to perform and get things Right is what made them wrong in the first place. Relax.

- No Motivation

The #1 killer of artists everywhere. On some level you think you should draw, on every other level you think you should stay in bed.

You are not lazy. You wouldn't have read this far in a post about art block if you were lazy. You wouldn't CALL it art block if you were lazy. Laziness is wishing you didn't have to do anything. A block is wishing you were doing something. If you think you can namecall Yourself into productivity again, you're wrong and You need to unionize so that you don't treat You like that anymore.

Consider Mental Illness. Losing interest in something that brought you joy can be a symptom of depression. I know it seems obvious, but if you're waiting for a sign that it's "bad enough," it's bad enough. Seek care if you have the means. Forgive yourself if you already know this.

Selfcare. Examine yourself for neglect. Nutrition, exercise, enrichment, social need, and sleep are all part of the art process. Eat three meals and sleep 8 hours. That's your gaymer fuel. You deserve it, I promise. Depriving yourself of your needs will make your blocks worse, not kick you into making them better.

Identify potholes. Sketchbook falling apart? Tablet cord frayed? Half your pencils missing? Chair uncomfortable? Desk hard to reach? There's a lot of things that you tell yourself to work around and get over. Just because you CAN workaround something, doesn't mean you SHOULD. A difficult work environment can cause secret dread deep inside that you don't recognize and just think you're lazy. What you think of as "no motivation" might actually be "I don't want to deal with my tablet disconnecting every time I move it wrong and I have to wiggle it for a few seconds to make it work again." These little things are like potholes in the road. Sure you CAN still drive through them, but eventually you're going to look up and realize you haven't voluntarily left the house in weeks.

Repair potholes and roadblocks. You might feel bad about buying a new pencil, headphones, tablet, car, etc because technically the old one works if you hustle. But if you're running into so many potholes you've ground to a halt, it doesn't Actually work anymore, does it? Invest, save up, request, and require working equipment and suitable conditions. This stuff isn't just cushy privilege, it's an investment in yourself and your art. You are worth the effort it takes to clear the way. If you can't afford reliable (reliable! not perfect or luxurious) equipment, then say it. If cardboard is all you can afford, draw on cardboard. But know that you deserve canvas, and one day you might be able to make the jump. Acknowledge that sometimes, if you don't have it in you to smear burned twigs on wet cardboard, the problem isn't motivation, but opportunity.

- Haven't Drawn in So Long

A unique type of art block that self perpetuates. The thought of starting again is so stressful you can't do it. Or maybe you'll do it tomorrow. Yeah. Tomorrow for sure.

Face your fears. Are you ashamed of your lack of drawing? Are you anthropomorphizing your paper and thinking it's going to judge you, like "oh NOW you come back >:/" I internalize voices I hear and project them onto other people, concepts, locations, and inanimate objects. Your paper, computer, WIPs folder.... none of that is judging you.

Reframe your WIPs. Do you feel shame when you see "unfinished" projects? Why? Who says you MUST bring everything you start to Finish? You don't have to. A sketch is a finished art piece; it's called a sketch! If a sketch is a fully realized creation, pages that are half colored, 75% lined, or partially rendered are all fully realized creations too. Unless paid otherwise, art is done when you're done working on it.

Lower the stakes. Draw a chibi or grab some crayons. Get messy and slowly ease yourself back into the flow over the course of a couple days. It's fine.

Get a buddy! Find an art meme, do an art trade, get a study subject, or just wing it. Drawing art alongside someone can help you get past that block.

Pretend you never stopped. Don't think about the gap, how long it's been, or rustiness. As far as anyone knows, you drew the mona lisa yesterday and didn't break a sweat. Today, you drew a starfish on your hand with a gel pen. Keep up that streak, good job!

Just keep drawing. Make a goal to do one sucky drawing per day on the back of a napkin. Don't make up for missed days, just pretend they didn't happen. Who's going to judge you? The calendar? That's pieces of paper; it doesn't have an opinion. Draw a cat on it. Done. Keeping up the momentum is a great way to prevent art blocks in the future.

TLDR: Draw imperfectly and toss it. Selfcare is king. Draw often and don't judge yourself.

Art is a process, not a product.

#shire screams #art tips #ask #art block #long post

[chocolate-parfait]

Hey✌️ I was wondering if you could do cuddles and kisses with Leviathan, Beel and Mammon? Headcanons if you would? Thank you! Have a nice day!

I WANNA SMOOCH MAMON SO BAD PLS

also!! ty for requesting this!! I had sm fun writing it and it's been a long time ever since I wrote for obey me🥺

Kissing and cuddling - Obey me! headcanons (Mammon, Levi & Beel)

Mammon

He’s one of the clingiest brothers, if not THE clingiest one. He’s a man that has been starved of proper affections for far too long, so the moment he has you within arm's reach, you can bet that he’ll always be touching you in some sort of way. Arm around your waist, fingers gripping your sleeve, hand reaching for yours, whatever is fine as long as there’s some sort of contact. This habit of his comes out in particular whenever your attention isn't on him. If you’re talking to someone, he’ll just come behind you and give you a back hug, resting his chin on your shoulder as you go on with the conversation.

The first few attempts at intimacy make him blush like crazy, but he gets better over time (not that much but at least he’s not on the verge of passing out each time). Still, his cravings for affections make him naturally drawn to you, so he can’t help you but trail after you most of the time (whenever he’s not out gambling or causing mischief yk). This said, his happy place is definitely between your arms. In fact, a daily part of his routine consists of laying on your bed, snuggled close against your chest. Cuddle sessions mostly take place in your room because the moment you get close to Mammon that will automatically become his room too. It’s like living in a shared apartment, since he strolls in without much care, showers in your bathroom (he has his toothbrush, cologne and everything else there) and keeps his shirts in your closet. He does all this because he believes you’re okay with it, but if you tell him to stop he’d remove all his traces from your bedroom and distance himself with a slightly broken heart. It’s part of his love language, and denying it can kinda damage your relationship.

Back to the fluff though! He’s the smallest spoon ever and no, I do not accept criticism. Go argue with the wall or fight me. The only time he’ll be a big spoon will be when you need comfort. Any other time he just wants to be held.

His kisses can start off slow and be sometimes shy, but they all soon turn into eager, sloppy kisses. He enjoys it so much he drowns in the moment, unable to think of anything but you and your lips. It’s not like he’s an inexperienced kisser (quite the contrary actually) but anything that involves you makes his head spin and stomach flutter with feelings he has never felt before.

This man accepts any and all types of kisses you wish to give him, but if he had to choose a favorite one then that’d be the flurry of smooches you fire at his face as you squish his cheeks in a burst of love. Not even his skin tone can hide the massive blush that blooms across his profile with every peck; but no matter what he tells you, don’t stop. Never. If you do he’ll catch your wrists and pout like a kid deprived of his favorite candy until you continue with your cascade of pecks.

Levi

This man wishes he could be as smooth as all those otome protagonists, but no matter how much time passes and how comfortable he gets with you, his blushy cheeks will follow him everywhere, anytime. What changes though is that despite the embarrassment, as time goes by he indulges and initiates intimacy more and more. Moreover, he’ll never deny you; even in public, he might squirm and protest but in the end you can always get away with whatever you want (as long as it’s not too “hardcore”).

One of his favorite cuddling poses that he fantasizes about for days, consists of you sitting on his lap, encaged between his arms as he plays with his videogames. When he finally finds the courage to pull you close, he’s trembling so much he absolutely cannot concentrate on the screen in front of him, failing every mission/level of his current game; he won't move though! He's kind of like petrified.. It took him so long to get into this position in the first place, so he's not letting go now, that's for sure. The position in itself isn't anything too particular or scandalous, but that's why he likes it. It's something so ordinary that it's a special thing for someone like him.

Sleeping is a good countermeasure to his shyness, because his unconscious body will chase after yours no matter how far apart in bed you are (in BED because you aint sleeping in a damned bathtub??). He’ll hug you to his body and entangle his legs with yours, basking in the shared warmth of your bodies. (please please PLEASE sneak under his oversized hoodie and snuggle in there while the two of you sleep!!! He’ll have five consecutive heart attacks once he wakes up but he’ll find it the cutest thing ever).

Kind of a big spoon but he’s too shy to initiate anything. Lean into his touch like a cat (maybe purr too) and he’ll be putty in your hands, letting you hug and kiss whatever part of him you want.

Just like any other display of intimacy, kisses aren't his forte, but still, he tries. He's a bit clumsy and might throw in some signature phrases worthy of any tsundere afterwards, but he can get serious too! There are times when he wants to demonstrate you his "manly" side (why would it have to do with gender levi?) and that he too can be a proper lover! During those sudden spurs of confidence turn his kisses into really pleasurable experiences, and truthfully, they are his best ones.

Beel

You guys know those gigantic teddy bears right? 2 meters tall of pure fluff?? That’s Beel.

This man is,,, where do I even start. It’s as if God made him with the sole purpose of creating a professional cuddler. Beel gives the best hugs and cuddles in all three realms. His hugs are warm and soft, and they have the power of making even the most obstinate of insomniacs fall asleep within mere minutes under the right circumstances. Of course the duration of your sleep is not guaranteed, as you’ll probably awaken at the sound of munching or his stomach’s roars. Still, he won’t move unless he’s literally on the verge of unleashing his demon form out of hunger, as he doesn’t want to interrupt your sleep.

His kisses are as soft as feathers but full of love, always accompanied with a toothy smile or a fond giggle. He doesn’t mind going for deeper kisses (particularly after you’ve eaten something so he can directly taste it from you), but Beel generally remains a big softie most of the time. Smooch him all you want, cradle his face with your hands, pinch his cheeks and tickle his sides, he’ll let you do anything you want as long as you’re enjoying it!

He’s kind of scared of hurting you seen the size and strength difference, so he’s usually very gentle when touching you, although he really really likes enveloping you in a bone-crushing embrace every now and then. Sometimes, as a playful manner to show his affection towards you, he’ll bite whatever spot of skin he finds nearest. You’re sitting next to him? He’ll target your shoulder. You’re chomp. They don’t really hurt, it’s just a genuine gesture for him! He’s munching on food all the time and he loves food, and since he loves you too… *chomp*

All cuddle sessions with him must involve three things, and they are fundamental: you, him and food. The more food you have, the longer you’ll cuddle. When the inevitable happens and the mountain of snacks you prepared is nowhere to be seen anymore, he'll gently wrap your arms and legs around his torso and walk you both to the kitchen, carrying you around like a big baby that doesn't want to leave its parent's embrace. He'll keep you there for as long as your muscles let you, supporting you with an arm as he ravages the fridge with the other.

#obey me! #obey me scenarios #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #mammon #levi #beel #my writing #answered

[milqueandsugar]

just recovered from a big ol breakdown 😀 (I'm ok haha) and was wondering if you could write wilbur x fem!reader where he finds her sobbing and comforts her please? <3

🏵 Your Tea Is Ready 🏵

Warnings: mentions of mental breakdowns, PTSD, war

Genre: hurt comfort

| A rose for your Troubles |

The revolution was hard on both of you, wilbur was left leading a war on his own, you had to watch the man you love shift into a cold but needed president. The war were darker days for you both, left you both with scars you'd rather not speak of any longer, but with the countries freedom secured you wouldn't need to fight for your life anymore, you didn't need to sleep with a sword or keep a apparently dagger in your boot. But you did. You never stopped.

You never stopped grinding arrows or patrolling your house looking for traps or tnt, you slept with one eye open if you slept at all, and wilbur... he wasn't there. You can't blame him, you wouldn't, he had a country to run with so few citizens it was hard on him, and you watched him break as much as you did. Buy you couldn't help the bitter resentment as you watched your lover be praised and glorified for his war efforts, for all he sacrificed. Yet you, who had lost not one but two lives to the cause, you had lost everything by the hands of a traitor, who had been burned alive, was merely given a pat on the back. Slowly you watched your lover slip away, and your friends move on to a brighter life time, while you were stuck with the scent of gunpowder and blood staining your hands.

Wilbur was alot of things, but he wasn't a fool. Despite the two of you living separately, he noticed the symptoms of sleep deprivation, the few times he did see you. Despite the beautiful nation you too built you lived a life of seclusion, rarely seeing anyone let alone him. Guilt it him like waves whenever he passed your house while doing community service, the curtains always drawn, and the lamps lit dimly. He built this country for you, for you to be safe and loved and free from tyranny, and yet you never stepped foot outside the confines of your home. As the days turned into weeks between visits he began to worry, had he scorned you? Was L'manburg not enough for you? Cause he would take more, he would fight for more, he'd take the whole smp for you. It took Fundy a few months before he fully adjusted to the freedoms the country offered, so maybe you just needed adjusting too. Maybe, he could help.

It was a lazy sunny after noon when he stopped by your house, a bouquet of roses in hand, thorns plucked from each one, in hand. Dressed in his finest suit he knocked on your door, nothing. He waited a few minuets before pulling the key from his pocket, with a bit of effort and some trouble seeing over the bouquet he managed to open the door, the smell of blown out candles immediately hitting him. You must have taken a nap, he reasoned, he was tempted to leave your sleep, heaven knows you needed it. But something, felt wrong, a churning feeling in his gut told him to push forward, and so he did. Quietly closing the door behind him he silently made his way up the stair, in case you were asleep he'd curse himself for waking you. He hadn't made it to the fourth step before the cool of metal was pushed against his throat.

"What are you doing in my house."

He knew that voice, he knew the blade was yours, and yet the words couldn't resonate with him. It didn't sound like you, you were always so warm and friendly, but the words were cooler then the blade resting against his neck.

"Y/n, it's me, you're safe-"

"Oh god"

The sword clattered to the floor as he heard you take a few steps back. "I'm so sorry, I-I didn't know it was you I thought-" he turned in time to see you stumble against the wall, your hands held up to your face and your red eyes filled with fear and disgust. You had been crying for what looked like hours based on the state of your eyes. Wilbur felt his stomach drop, he felt bile rising to his throat but swallowed thickly. You needed more more time to adjust.

"Y/n it's alright, you didn't know it was me anyone would have done it" he reasoned, carefully making his way towards you, God forbid he scare you anymore then you were. "I could have hurt you Wil," you sob crumbling to the floor, "what if I hurt you?" Wilbur kneeled in front of you, abandoning the roses to take your face in his hands. "Then I wouldn forgive you, because I love you Y/N" he soothed, however his words fell on deaf ears as tears continued to spill from your puffy eyes. "I love you y/n, you know that right, I'd do anything for you" he promised, his brown hues desperate to meet your own, to no avail. "I.. I was so close to-" "that doesn't matter anymore, okay? I'm fine, but you aren't and you need to tell me what's wrong my Rose" he pleaded, wiping tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. "Everything's wrong Wil" you cry, holding onto his arms for stability, something to ground yourself with. "I-I can't sleep, I'm- I have nightmares every night about you, an-and Tommy and Eret, I'm just so so tired" you cry, your voice breaking with abuse. "This place is awful this land is cursed I'm being haunted Wil- I'm being haunted and I'm scared, Im so scared and tired and alone" you cry, falling against your lovers chest as he froze in shock.

He sat with you a long time, listening to your worries and fear, taking note of everything his frazzled mind could. It wasn't long before you moved to the living room, him letting you rest as you two took a break from, whatever this was. He had wandered into the kitchen, fetching a glass of water for you. He had barely filled the glass half full before you spoke up, "thank you for the roses" he jumped, nearly dropping the glass as he turned to you, he forgot how sneaky you were, intentional or not. "W-what?" He stammered, one of the few words he managed out since your outburst. You held up the bouquet, to be honest he forgot he had even brought that, "thank you for the roses" you sniffle, bringing them over to a basin full off water and dropping them into it. Wilbur let out a dry chuckle, "I uh, you're welcome" he snorted awkwardly, watching as a pained smile came to your face. "I'm also sorry for today, it's been-" "you've been through alot Y/n, more then I ever thought, you shouldn't apologize for being honest" he cut you off, finally topping off the glass. You don't speak but not solemnly reaching absent mindedly to pluck a rose from its place amongst the others, hissing as a sharp pain met your thumb, dropping the rose to the floor you brought your now bleeding appendage to your mouth. Wilbur was swift to meet your side, placing the glass on the counter as he glanced down at the rose, it's stem lay a single Thorn, one he must've missed. Seems he had gotten into the habit of missing things recently.

#dsmp x y/n #dsmp x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x reader #dsmp imagine #mcyt x you #dsmp x you #wilbur imagine #wilbur x reader #wilbur x you #wilbur x y/n

[sundaysundaes]

Falling

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff, Angst | NC-17 | 11K

Summary: In the absence of your warmth, Lee Donghyuck begins to reminisce the loving memories he’s shared with you in the past three years, regretting how your first fight turned into something that ended it all. Lyrics are taken from this beautiful song: Harry Style’s Falling.

Warnings: Unprotected sex (please practice safe sex!), oral sex, alcohol consumption, swearing

I'm in my bed

And you're not here

The small, barely prominent crack on the ceiling of his bedroom has always gone unnoticeable. It stands only as a silent witness of the meeting between a pair of plumps lips to redder ones, the breathless sounds of frantic moans, and the sacred exchange of loving words. But not tonight. Tonight, as he lays on his bed, sheets all crumpled but with the absence of your warmth, Donghyuck notices everything.

He notices how quiet his room—his entire apartment—feels when it’s only the sound of his own, soft breathing echoes through the air. The walls, the carpet, the bedsheets, the framed photographs that remind him of the joy that used to bloom on his face—everything feels monochromatic. Empty. Shallow. Because ever since you walked out of his life, you’ve taken all the colors with you, leaving him solely in black and white.

And there's no one to blame

But the drink in my wandering hands

With the bitter taste of vodka sitting on his tongue, Donghyuck closes his eyes, allowing himself to remember but not forgive the words he once said to you. 

Regrets start to suffocate him at once.

Forget what I said

It's not what I meant

And I can't take it back

I can't unpack the baggage you left

What hurts from a break-up is not the parting of two hearts, but the memories that had been drawn deep within them. It’s not the kiss that he misses, it’s the taste of your lips—the faint scent of strawberry that sits pale in comparison to your natural flavor. It’s the way they move against his own, timid at first then consuming all at once. And how there will be no other girl that will taste the same, feel the same, or emit the same kind of feelings from him.

It’s funny, Donghyuck thinks, how he can only see your smile behind his closed eyelids these days. But he doesn’t find himself laughing. He can’t even remember the last time he found a reason to smile, now that you’re gone.

The moon was hiding behind thick clouds, he remembers, that night when fate walked in and introduced you to one another.

Donghyuck’s eyes were glued to the silver screen, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he witnessed the battle between the villain and the protagonist grew deadly. The thrill of it soon perished, however, when a scent of chamomile shampoo fleeted through his nose.

Your head was falling onto his shoulder as you waned into your dreamland. Unbeknownst to you, you had been leaning your weight entirely to a stranger whose bergamot perfume compelled you to focus on anything besides the movie. It was as pleasant as it was distracting. But after being sleep deprived for three days, exhaustion finally took over and you fell asleep so deeply, you didn’t even have the strength to dream.

Your weight on his body was unfamiliar but it wasn’t uncomfortable for twenty-two years-old Lee Donghyuck. As he took a glance at your face, it wasn’t your beauty that kept him frozen—except for the gentle smile that broke on his lips. It was how peaceful you looked, almost like an enervated child curling up after spending her time chasing butterflies on the field.

Donghyuck shifted carefully on his seat, attempting his best to give you comfort by providing more space for you to lean your weight on. Then he stayed still, his smile never faltered away, the movie long forgotten. He didn’t spare a glance at the screen even when people were gasping at the sight of the protagonist dying in his lover’s arms. He was more intrigued by the thought of your name, wondering whether it would sound as nice as the smell of your shampoo.

When the credits rolled, Donghyuck told Mark and Jeno in hushed whispers to leave without him, throwing icy glares at them when they grinned devilishly at the sight of you sleeping on his shoulder. He went as further as kicking Jeno on the shin when his voice rose too loudly, afraid that he’d wake you up, which made the other man complain because certainly, the background music was louder than anything else in the room.

Nevertheless, you were still deep in your slumber.

Donghyuck begged for more time when one of the concessions workers asked him to leave. Refused and left with no other solution, he sighed and turned his head toward you.

“Hey,” he whispered, heart palpitating in anticipation of finally hearing your voice. “We have to go.”

His voice was foreign to your ears but it was so soothing, almost like a lullaby, that you snuggled closer, wanting to hear more of it. It took Donghyuck three times more with his cheeks reddening to call upon you until you finally found the power to detach yourself from your stupor.

“Hey there,” a boy—beautiful boy—with glowing, sun-kissed skin; round, enticing eyes; and a voice as sweet as honey, beamed at you with a smile so warm, it nearly melted your heart, and you decided ah, I don’t ever want to wake up from this dream.

It was when the usher popped into your vision, stating, “I’m sorry, Ma’am, but we’re closing,” that you internally screamed oh God, no, this isn’t a dream, what have I done?

“So that’s what he said.” Donghyuck’s smile was sheepish with a tint of teasing, and your heart moved on its own, yearning for him to display you another one. “But if you still have time to spare, we can go get some coffees or something. I can fill you in on the details.”

“A—” Your voice was hoarse from sleep, embarrassingly so. “About what?”

“About the movie you just missed.” The grin he showcased grew wider and this time, it was so utterly mischievous that you had to break your gaze before heat rushed to your face. “The fact that you’re here watching a movie by yourself must mean you’re interested to see how it ends. I can help you with that.”

“Umm—” You rummaged your purse, pretending like you were searching for something when it was only a poor excuse for you to not be captivated by his eyes longer than you already were. “It’s fine, I can look it up online.”

“But then what should I do with this?” He brought his right hand in the air, pursing his lips. “My arm’s falling asleep. Shouldn’t you take responsibility for it?”

The horrified look on your face made him laugh, and his laughter became the reason why you decided to throw all common sense away and just went with what felt right.

Awkward conversations made you anxious but they died before you could finish your coffee. They were reborn into something that was supposed to only be shared between friends instead of strangers, but with Donghyuck, everything felt so natural, you didn’t even find the will to question it. His affable, carefree attitude was almost inspiring, breaking through your facade as easy as counting his fingers.

“So, how come you went to the movies by yourself?” Donghyuck asked, his coffee long forgotten on the table as he was more drawn to you and the little smile you retained on your lips. “Boyfriend too busy to come along?”

A bit flustered, you brought your head down, hiding your eyes behind your fringe. “I don’t... have a boyfriend.”

Donghyuck raised an eyebrow, lying his chin on his palm as he rested his elbow on the table. The way he stared at you made your stomach flip, and he reciprocated with nothing but a hum, tapping a finger to his cheek. His tiny smile held a thousand meaning.

You hurriedly took a sip of your coffee. “I, uhh, I had some free time today and it’s my favorite movie franchise—I just got to see how it ended. But all my friends have seen it, so…”

“They didn’t invite you?”

“They did. I was just busy with work.”

His voice dropped an octave lower. “And they didn’t wait for you.”

“It’s—” Your chest tightened. “It’s fine, really. I mean, it would only make me feel bad if they waited for me. My schedule is crazy. I haven’t been sleeping properly for three days because of my deadlines.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.” He chuckled and you noticed how his teeth were a little jagged. “I could still smell your drool on my shirt, actually.”

“Oh my God,” you spluttered. “I’m—Please let me wash it for you.”

“And you expect me to walk home half-naked?” His naughty eyebrow raise made your skin tingle. “Or are you inviting me to stay over?” Seeing you part your mouth but lost for words, Donghyuck tittered. “I’m kidding. I would’ve waited for you. No matter how busy you were, I would. And even if I’ve watched it first, I wouldn’t mind watching it again with you.”

You shook your head, both in attempts to disagree with his words and to erase your blush away. “But that would be a waste of money—”

“That wouldn’t be a waste, and you know why?” He leaned closer, body almost halfway through the table. “Because for me, it’s never about the movie. It’s about watching it together with you. About us complaining about the plot holes, talking about the bad acting, laughing at each other when something reminds us of one of our inside jokes. That’s what makes it worth.” As Donghyuck realized how your eyes were locked with his, your breath hitching in your throat with the proximity, he quickly plummeted back to his seat, flushed. “I mean, it applies to everyone—not you, specifically.”

So he could be shy, you wondered. And what else could he be? Maybe buried underneath those mischievous grins, laid a caring heart. Maybe he could be the one who’d understand when you missed three of his calls as you tried to survive your deadlines. Maybe he would cook you breakfast instead of just reminding you to take one. Maybe he could taste sweeter than any boy you’d ever kissed.

So when his curiosity for you matched the intensity you had towards him, you let your walls crumble, welcoming him with open arms.

“It’s going to rain,” Donghyuck mentioned, eyes observing the night sky, dark clouds rumbling as they hovered above you. You were walking next to him, knuckles nearly grazing one another from how near you were though none of you was brave enough to close the distance.

Although obvious, you decided to humor him. “Yeah? How can you tell?”

“‘Cause I’m psychic.” The added wink in the end was a bonus but to you, it became the main reason why you had to drag your gaze to your feet.

Funny how for the past three hours, your smile never faltered away—almost to the point that your cheekbones began to hurt—when you could barely remember the last time you found amusement in anything.

“Are you cold?” he asked, and you promptly shook your head no. Unfortunately for you, your body betrayed you. Donghyuck chuckled softly when he noticed the shivers that ran through your spine. “Want me to lend you my jacket?”

“Oh—no, it’s fine, I’m—”

“It was a rhetorical question, dummy.” The body heat that was imprinted on his leather jacket made you well-aware of just how warm he actually was. The scent of his bergamot perfume was overwhelmingly delightful, but there was another scent underneath it—something that reminded you of summer, sunlight, and sandalwood—that made you wonder, maybe, if he wasn’t wearing this perfume, he’d smell just like this.

He pushed your hair away from your neck, straightening the jacket until it enveloped you entirely with its warmth. “Better?”  

You eventually managed to snap yourself out of your reverie. “Were you always this smooth with women?”

“No, I just practiced in front of my mirror a lot.”

“Practiced what?”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “The art of seduction.”

“Is that so?” Your cheeks began to warm but it was probably because of the jacket. “Guess I should try that sometimes,” you joked.

“I don’t think you need it,” he cooed, bending himself down a little so you were eye-to-eye. “You already have me wrapped around your fingers from the second I laid my eyes on you.” When you became petrified by his words, his laughter reverberated through the air. “Now, that’s an example. How did I do?”

Ignoring your racing heart, you retorted, “Terrible.”

“Then will you let me practice on you so I can get better?”

Just like that, you found yourself sporting another smile. “Now, that’s smooth.”

Your life had been dull, repeating the same routines over and over again with your job taking most of your precious hours. Being with Donghyuck was a breath of fresh air—a stranger who was attentive to every little gesture you made, every little word that escaped your mouth, as much as he easily stole your attention away. His confidence was inspiring, his laughter was contagious, and you adored every little bit of his quirkiness.

“This feels like a date,” he professes, smiling diffidently to himself. “Would it be okay for me to think of it as a date?”

Suddenly, your vocabulary had diminished into nothing but his name. You nodded, and surprisingly enough for you, Donghyuck snickered, hand reaching out to playfully—almost childishly—ruffle your strands. “Thanks. Then a date it is.”

You wished time could go slower so you could savor the moment, memorizing the heart shape of his lips when he grinned.

You stopped in front of your apartment building, a breeze of cold night wind caressing your cheeks. “Umm, this is me,” you said, dismantling his leather jacket of your body. “Thank you... for this.”

Donghyuck’s fingertips grazed against your knuckles and it took longer than necessary for him to retrieve it from your hand. “You’re welcome.”

“And...” Your mind strayed away from forming the right words as you took notice of him wearing his leather jacket, how it fitted him so perfectly, how handsome he looked. “Umm, thank you for walking me back.”

“Thank you for giving me the chance.” His smile reminded you of spring, your favorite season, the way it blossomed on his face, so warm and beautiful. “I could’ve been a serial killer, you know. Showing me where you live isn’t too smart.”

“You don’t look like a serial killer to me.”

“Yeah?” His smile turned impish. “Then, how do I look like to you?”

You were fast to pivot on your heels. “I think I should go.”

His laughter filled the air. “Wait, I haven’t even said good night yet.”

“Then good ni—“ Your words died on your tongue when a pair of plump lips found their way to your cheek, just brushing lightly against the skin but your entire breath escaped your lungs at once. He retraced his steps before you could respond properly, biting the corner of his lip, looking somewhat unsure.

“Sorry if that’s—“ Donghyuck cleared his throat. “Umm, good night.”

You felt lightheaded, and you shortly blamed it on the amount of espresso you’d gulped too much during the day. “Good… night…”

Donghyuck was too bashful to meet your eyes, which was why you were brave enough to sneak a glimpse at his face. You decided that his sly, confident grins looked alluring on his face, but they were nothing compared to how adorable he seemed when he evinced that nervous, shy look on his face.

It took a few seconds before Donghyuck gave you a weak nod and walked away, taking the same direction from where you came. Something queasy grew inside your stomach, your grip around your purse tightening. 

Is it all there is? Am I never going to see him again?

With a heavy sigh, you walked toward your building.

Maybe he doesn't like me that much... But what do I do now? I want to see him again.

I don’t want to let him go without knowing whether I could see him again.

God, for once, just do something for yourself. Do something that makes you happy, be brave!

Taking a deep breath, you chose to gamble.

At the same time you turned on your heels, shouting his name, Donghyuck was calling upon yours and you both met each other halfway, breathless when it didn’t even take you more than twenty steps to reach one another.

“H-hi,” you greeted, voice quivering but not as much as the fingers you curled around the hem of your blouse.

“Hey.” Donghyuck’s gaze softened. “I was wondering—”

“Can we meet again?” You didn’t intend to cut him off so abruptly, but the anxiety within you nearly made your heart burst that you ended up asking the question without waiting for him to finish his. “I—I mean—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt—”

“Yes, a thousand times yes,” he answered in one breath, with his sentence ending in chuckles. “You’re adorable, do you know that?”

Your heart was still about to burst but for an entirely different reason. “That’s…” You tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear—a habit that seemed to appear whenever you were too embarrassed to function. “That’s great. I mean, the fact that you want to see me again, not—” Oh God, okay, stop. “Well, then, umm, I guess I should leave now.”

He concealed his grin. “Aren’t you going to ask for my number or something?”

You mentally slapped yourself. “Y-yes, that would make it easier.”

The way Donghyuck was gazing at you made you feel like you were about to fall from the edge of your seat. He must think I’m an idiot. But had you been brave enough to see the gleam in his eyes, you would’ve noticed how he was staring at you so adoringly. “Give me your phone then.” When you just stood still, too busy trying to comprehend that a cute boy was really going to give you his number, Donghyuck added, “To add my numbers, Sweetheart. What, do I look like someone who flirts with pretty girls just to steal their phones away?”

“I wasn’t—” You quickly handed him your phone. “Here.”

Donghyuck’s smile grew playful again. “Care to make it interesting?”

“What?”

“I’ll add my numbers except for the last digit. You gotta guess it.”

“What? Why—”

“Because you’re cute,” he repeated, cocking his head as he returned your phone. “And it makes me want to tease you even more.” You unconsciously began to pout and he nearly whimpered at the sight. “Don’t do that, that’s not fair.”

You mumbled quietly, “I don’t like being made fun of.”

“I’m not making fun of you, I’m teasing you. There’s a difference.” He sighed, fingertips aching to reach out and swat your bangs away from your eyes. “A huge difference.”

You jutted out your bottom lip. “Feels the same to me.”

Donghyuck leaned in, calloused palm finding its way to cup your cheek, lifting your face so the streetlight could illuminate your features. “You need to wash that pout away from your face,” he whispered, eyes slowly going down to your lips that you had to remind yourself to breathe. “Or else I won’t be able to hold myself back.”

It was supposed to be another teasing, you knew he only meant it that way. But all trace of playfulness quickly vanished from his face when he noticed your eyes drifting to his lips—just for a split second—but that was enough. He saw the sign, he felt the chemistry, and there was no way he was going to let it pass just like that. Not when he had been thinking the same thing repeatedly for the last three hours you’d been together.

It wasn’t your first kiss—nor your second or third—but it was the kiss that mattered and you weren’t sure why. Three hours ago, he was a stranger. Now, he sent a trickle of electricity through your bloodstream, as if he was your first love. As if you had been wanting him for years.

A gentle rain began to pour over your heads, tiny droplets staining your cheeks but all you could think about was the way his thumb was caressing your cheekbone, how his lips were warmer and softer than anything you could have imagined, yet fierce and powerful at the same time.

“Am I going too fast?” He asked in a broken whisper, parting away just enough to murmur the question but close enough that you could still feel his words grazing your lips.

“Yes.” But you curled your fingers on the front of his shirt, tugging him closer. Donghyuck sighed into your mouth, eyebrows furrowing as he let himself drown deeper in passion. What started as a chaste kiss became ardent, and you allowed him to taste you enough so that he would fall asleep thinking about your lips. Donghyuck took a hold of your wrist, detaching your grip from his fabric and moved it up, silently telling you to wind your arms around his neck instead. The second you did it, he melded his lips with yours in a passion that matched the blazing sun, entangling his long arms around your waist, nearly lifting you off your feet as he embraced you tighter.

You wanted to preserve this moment. Right here, kissing fervidly under the soft rain in the arms of a stranger, drowned in the feelings of excitement. Because if you were oxygen, then Donghyuck was dying to breathe.

When it ended, you wished it didn’t have to. Donghyuck’s eyes were deep and intense as they peered into yours, growing a bit half-lidded when he shifted them back to your lips. “Hey.”

You mirrored his gentle smile, forehead pressing against his. “Hi…”

“I don’t know about you,” he chuckled lowly, “but as far as first kisses go, I think that was the best first kiss in the history of mankind.”

You tried to suppress your laughter but failed instantly. “Hyuck?”

“Yeah?”

“Judging from that line, I think you need to practice harder on your art of seduction.”

“Let’s just go back to kissing for now. I like kissing.” He pulled you in again, exchanging muffled giggles between playful kisses.

And if happiness had a form, it would’ve had his smile.

What am I now? What am I now?

What if I’m someone I don’t want around?

I’m falling again. I’m falling again.

I’m falling.

It’s almost laughable that the memories that once sparked so much joy in his heart have taken a shape of javelin, striking him deep in his chest, right where he ached for you the most. It tasted like summer when he kissed you in the rain, and the pain that swells in Donghyuck’s heart whenever the memory of it suffices is harder than the storm. And now, it’s the silence of the room—the absence of your presence—that pierces his skin.

It was easy for him to fall in love with you. So easy, it frightened him at first. After his first relationship, the way his first love shed his heart to pieces, he thought he wouldn’t be able to love someone ever again. Wouldn’t have the courage to even try. But when you came into the picture, Donghyuck didn’t even have the strength to resist. You were everything he ever wanted, an epitome of the woman that graced his dreams. And he was a prisoner, trapped under your spell.

So, why does everything have to end?

Now that he’s falling without you catching him, what is he going to do?

He hates who he’s become. He loathes the fact that he can no longer easily smile like he used to. He despises how grimly he envisioned the world these days. As if you were his entire future, and now that you’re gone, his whole world collapses. Donghyuck no longer knows himself, as you were the one who defines him. The one who gave meaning to his life. The one who mended his broken heart.

What if I’m down? What if I’m out?

What if I’m someone you won’t talk about?

I’m falling again. I’m falling again.

I’m falling.

You must hate me now, Donghyuck ponders, bringing his arm over his face, nibbling at the corner of his lip. The things I said… How I let you go without even giving us a chance… I must have hurt you…

It all began that night, on the day of your twenty-sixth birthday. Two years had passed since you shared your first kiss. Little fights over your differences couldn’t be avoided, but they helped nurture the bond you had with him, making it stronger. And each forgiveness was sincere and was rich in kisses. Donghyuck always made sure of that.

As you were fond of movies, your perfect date must involve watching a movie together with him so Donghyuck, dressed unusually handsomely in a white button-up shirt and black khakis that caught you off guard, took you out to the movie theater—the place where fate once meddled in and brought you to one another.

Knowing your taste, he paid two tickets to see the latest romantic movie, two buckets of popcorn, and a coke for him but iced green tea for you, realizing full well how soda had become one of your biggest enemies ever since your diet started. He made sure that your seats were located on the corner top of the theater, private enough for him to snuggle close to you or steal kisses whenever he felt like doing. You didn’t mind because Donghyuck would only kiss you when you seemed bored, never wanting to bother you when you were too immersed in the movie. He simply kept his hand laced with yours the whole time to make up for the loss.

Complaining about the plot holes and making jokes that only you two could understand had become Donghyuck’s habit to keep you entertained during the movie and it was something you always looked forward to. But that night, he was quiet, his eyebrows creasing in irritation but because of what, you were clueless.

“Are you okay?” You asked as you exited the building, this time being the one who reached out for his hand first. Donghyuck stiffened but his shoulders soon relaxing as he intertwined your fingers together.

“I’m fine,” he assured. “Why, do I not look fine?”

You weakly smiled back, uncertain. “You just seem awfully quiet, that’s all.”

He rubbed his nape, somehow looking a bit perturbed. “I just… It made me remember something I’ve been trying my best to forget.”

“You mean the movie?”

“Yeah.” He sighed into the night, puffs of hot air erupting from his slightly chapped lips. “I don’t know about you, but I think the way the movie depicted their long-distance relationship is just bullshit.”

There was so much bitterness in his words that it nearly made you stop walking. Suddenly, there was a thick tension around you, one that made you aware that it would be wiser to drop the conversation. But curiosity was eating you from the inside. He looked so crushed, so angry, and Donghyuck was turning into a whole other person before you.

You asked him what happened.

“I don’t think I want to talk about my past relationship when I’m celebrating a special night with my girlfriend.” He forced himself to laugh about it, but it sounded hollow.

You unconsciously tightened your grip around his hand. “I just wanted to understand you better.”

“Hey.” He pulled you toward him so abruptly, you ended up falling on his chest. His smile was warmer when he looked at you. “Without even knowing my past, you already understand me better than anyone.”

You were still unsettled when Donghyuck kissed your lips to divert your attention, softly biting your lower one just to joke around to ease the tension. “Ah, I can’t wait until we’re home,” he whispered when all laughter had receded and he had his fingers tucking your loose strands behind your ear. “I want to make love to you.”

Your heart beat thunderously inside your chest. “You’re—you’re just gonna say it so blatantly like that?” He used to be so shy about it, asking you to join him in bed by pressing open-mouthed kisses down your neck instead of using words.

“Just wanted you to know my plans beforehand.” He simpered. “Or do you not want to?”

Face aflame, you hurriedly took a couple of strides forward, leading the way with your hand clamping his wrist. “Where are we going?” Donghyuck frowned but followed you nonetheless. “The restaurant is right there.”

“We can have dinner after.” You threw a look over your shoulder, too nervous to smile, but hoped your words would deliver. “Aren’t we going to make love?”

His astonished look soon turned delicate. Donghyuck’s smiles were always beautiful, but the ones that were caused by you were the brightest. 

As soon as the door clicked open, Donghyuck half-pushed, half-carried you inside his apartment that smelled pleasantly like him. He didn’t wait until it was properly closed before he latched his parted lips on your softer ones, fusing perfectly in the way no one ever could. A stinging pain erupted from the back of your head when Donghyuck drove you to the wall, not knowing his own strength, but when you groaned against his mouth, it was solely because you needed him as much as he needed you.

“I love you,” he breathlessly said against your neck, tearing your coat away from your body, fingers slipping underneath your dress. “I love you so much, it’s insane.”

It had been three months since you first exchanged the sacred three words, but no matter how much Donghyuck had whispered them to your ears, painted them to your skin with his lips, it still felt like the first time you heard him say the words. It wasn’t just because of how many promises he held underneath them, it was the way he said them—so sincerely, so desperately, as if you were running out of time and he needed you to hear them before you disappeared from his life.

“I—” You flinched, pulling him for another kiss again when Donghyuck hooked his fingers on the side of your lingerie, hastily pushing it down your thighs. “I love you too—Hyuck—”

The bed was not more than twenty steps away but it was long forgotten when Donghyuck, still with his teeth ghosting across your lower lip, hastily unzipped himself and pushed his jeans and boxers lower enough for your hand to find and stroke him to life. “God, baby—” he hissed when you curled your fingers around him, hot breath caressing your jawline. “I want—I need to be inside you—just—”

No one had ever wanted you the way he did. Every kiss was nearly bruising, every hug was almost suffocating, the thrill of it all was overwhelming. 

It was almost a whine that escaped his lips when he vocalized your name. As soon as his desperate gasp and pleading moan reached your ears, the butterflies came alive in your stomach. Your skin tingled, even with the lightest brush of his lips. Your fingers found home in his hair when he kissed the valley between your breasts, tugging at his soft strands and earning a low grunt in response.

You gave him a sign, affirming that it was okay to continue and Donghyuck wasted no time. Pushing the fabric of your dress as much as he could until it pooled around your waist, he lifted one of your legs and wrapped it around his hips, one hand sliding down to prop up your thigh, the other one aligning his tip against your entrance.

The friction made you moan, both in pain and passion, as Donghyuck slid himself in one swift motion. The second he was sheathed deep inside, waiting for you to adjust to his size, he drew out a long sigh, eyes shut close as he relished the sensation. But when your gaze met, his half-lidded eyes were gentler than they had been the entire day. Careful fingers framed your face, his thumb rubbing comforting circles along your cheekbone. “Are you okay?”

You weakly nodded, smiling sheepishly. “Are you?”

His chuckles were light and bashful. “I’m feeling great,” he said. He moved his hips without warning, just a little, not too fast, not too deep, but the sensation was enough to make you whimper and Donghyuck swallowed every little noise you made directly with his lips.

A certain thrust made you squeeze around him and he drowned out his moan by mouthing against your shoulder, teeth prickling against the skin. “Fuck, do that again, baby, please.” And as he continued hitting the same spot, it was a given that you provided the same reaction.

Donghyuck was insanely good at making you feel good, and in return, you wanted to give him everything that he desired. “I love how you feel around me,” he confessed under his breath, as if he was talking to himself. “Perfect—you’re so perfect for me—”

Your arms were frantically clutching around his neck, trying to maintain stability when Donghyuck pushed you up the wall, now lifting both of your feet off the ground. He buried himself deeper, moved his hips faster, and kissed you with the desperation of a dying man.

You tried to hold back but you couldn’t. It was too much. His breathless moans in your ear, the frantic sway of his hips, the closeness of your bodies—everything was overwhelming and you came hard on his length, legs wrapping tightly around his waist as Donghyuck chased after your lips. 

“Fuck,” he breathed heavily, his jaw hung low. The way you quivered and clenched around him sent fire through his veins. “Did you just come?” he whispered and you bit your lip in shame. The tiny laugh that broke free from his lips were both playful and filled with tenderness. “Already? That was fast.”

Flustered but not given the chance to react, you inhaled sharply when Donghyuck picked up the pace. He was almost growling when his lips grazed against the shell of your ear. “Actually, me too,” he moaned, “Is it—can I come inside?”

You nodded fervently, embracing him tighter and Donghyuck buried his head in the crook of your neck, hips stuttering as he came.

When he let you slide down to your feet, your knees gave out under your weight and you stumbled back to his chest. He held you close, laughing as he kissed the top of your head. “I’m sorry, come here.” Bending down slightly, Donghyuck hooked one arm under your knees and another one behind your back. He carried you in his arms, teasing, “The sex was so good, you could barely stand, huh?”

You playfully slapped his chest. “Shut up.”

But all of his mischievousness dissipated as soon as you both slipped under the duvet, his bedsheets felt silky smooth under your spine. He cleaned the stain that dripped down your thighs with a warm towel, but dipped his head down to taste you directly with his tongue the second he was finished with it. Donghyuck’s eyes never left yours, placing gentle kisses on the inner sides of your thighs and two more on your clit before he slid his tongue along your folds, slowly, as if he had the whole time in the world to please you.

He was always gentler the second time, slower with more feelings instead of sheer passion. So when he slid himself into you again, his forehead was pressed against yours, lips curving up into an innocent smile. “I never want to let you go,” he chuckled between tiny moans. “I want to stay just like this with you, forever.”

“I don’t think it’s physically possible,” you giggled, raking your nails down his spine and he arched his back in response. 

“Wouldn’t it be great if we could stay connected like this all the time, though?” Donghyuck broke away, sitting on his heels as he rested one of your legs on his shoulder. His fingers were kneading the skin of your thigh, hugging your leg close to his chest as he rocked his hips slowly, savoring every moment. “I mean, ah, doesn’t this feel good?”

You nibbled at your lip, sighing. Good was an understatement but you weren’t sure you could find a term to perfectly define how amazing he felt around you. From where you laid on the bed, you could take a good look at Donghyuck’s eyes—the way they drooped slightly, clouded with both affection and infatuation every time they met yours. How the muscles in his abs were flexing with every movement. The sinful, obscene sway of his hips. The little smirk that broke on his face when you accidentally moaned his name too loud—Donghyuck was... Beautiful. Irresistible. Sexy. 

“Baby?” Donghyuck called, chuckling softly as he peppered open-mouthed kisses to your ankle that made you stare in a haze. “You okay down there?”

You pursed your lips. “Just enjoying the view.”

“Yeah?” He brought your leg down so he could fall back into your arms, mouth meeting your jawline before it moved to playfully bite the tip of your nose. “Well, I’ve got something else you could also enjoy.”

You hummed, trying your best to contain your moan when he suddenly brought his fingers down to rub against your clit. “And what’s that?” Though by the way he slammed his hips harder against yours served as an obvious answer.

“Some caramel pudding,” he answered, nipping against your neck as he grinned, careful enough not to leave any marks. “They’re in the fridge. You’ll love them.”

It was hard to focus when he kept hitting the spot that made you curl your toes. “Hyuck...” You pushed a loose strand of his hair behind his ear before you caressed his cheek. “I love you.”

His movements stopped, eyes peering into yours, stunned at first, then melted into something softer than the breath of summer. “I love you too.” His lips never left yours as they spoke each loving word with more sentimentality and less urgency. “And happy birthday, baby...”

When both of you had no strength left but to cuddle in each other’s arms, you gathered the courage to ask once more. “Hyuck?”

“Hmm?”

“I still want to know, after all. About what happened to you earlier. You looked so distraught—I can’t rest before I know what upsets you.”

Donghyuck’s fingers stopped momentarily from carding through your strands but with a heavy sigh, he surrendered.

It was his first relationship with his first love, back when he was sixteen. They were together for four years but knew each other for ten. She was a close friend that grew into something more. Even loving words didn’t need to be exchanged as they could practically finish each other’s thoughts. You felt a pang of jealousy gnawing at you from the inside, at the thought of him having someone so important in his life—someone who had stayed with him longer than you’d met him—someone whose name couldn’t be spoken as it triggered too many emotions.

But for the sake of understanding him, you cast your jealousy aside, no matter how much it hurt.

Donghyuck’s voice had lost its usual cheeriness when he reminisced his past. By the time they graduated high school, she decided to continue her study in Japan. Donghyuck let her go, supporting her plans and dreams like the perfect boyfriend that he was. They were committed to each other, faithful to one another. Donghyuck never doubted her, not even once.

Until one day, during a summer break, he decided to pay her a visit. He bought airplane tickets with the money he’d saved up for months, along with a thoughtful gift for her birthday. But the second he saw her opening the door to her apartment, he realized that she wasn’t alone.

She was never alone. He was.

“Why are you here?” She asked, as if his presence was a bother. Him, the man whom she claimed she’d loved with her entire soul for the last four years. The man whom she had made love to on his bed just six months earlier. Donghyuck would never forget the look she had on her face that day.

“It’s funny how you’ve been with this person your whole life,” Donghyuck breathily said, eyes locked to the ceiling. “And you thought you knew them like the back of your hand and then one day, they betrayed you in the way you thought they were incapable of doing.”

You couldn’t find your voice, blending in with the silence of the room.

But he didn’t hate her, Donghyuck confessed. He hated himself. He hated how stupid—how innocent and gullible he was. He hated how easily he let someone else carry his heart around and let them do whatever they want with it. He knew that she wouldn’t have the power to destroy him, if he didn’t give her the chance. Maybe, if his thoughts weren’t as clouded by his feelings, he would’ve noticed the little sighs she made whenever he told her he loved her. He would’ve noticed the way she sounded much brighter when she talked about her life instead of their lives together during their late-night calls. He would’ve noticed how distant she sounded whenever she spoke his name, as if it was just another meaningless word and not the one that she used to murmur in short gasps near his ear.

And maybe if I hadn’t fallen in love...

Donghyuck fell mute for a few seconds as if he was drifted to another time and space. The hurting look on his face was so vivid that it broke you just by seeing it. Attempting to wash the pain away, you placed a hand on his cheek and Donghyuck grew rigid once before he melted into smiles, leaning into your touch.

“I had to stay for a whole week in a country I didn’t know because I couldn’t refund my ticket. All alone, since my girlfriend cheated on me and didn’t even care to apologize about it,” he murmured against your palm, still sounding bitter but with more ease. “So yeah, I probably have some trust issues now because of that.” He tried to laugh it off. “But it’s all right. I don’t care. I have you now, right?” He laid on his side, facing you with a boyish smile that made your heart race just a little bit faster. “I’m starting on a new page with you. And as long as you’re here with me, I’m the happiest man in the world.”

You reflected his smile though your heart was unsettled. “You’re lame.”

“Excuse me, I’m in love,” he corrected, pouting. But when his hand found yours, his expression grew tender again. Kissing each of your fingertips, he murmured, “We’ll always be together, right? Promise you won’t do that to me, ‘cause I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He knew what loving you could cost him, but you were different. And he was different. He wouldn’t fall into the same trap. He knew how to protect himself this time. So he allowed himself to love you just as much, if not more, moving on but never forget.

Your eyes were focusing on the way he brought your index finger between his lips, the tip pressing against his hot tongue. “Yes,” you softly whispered, hooking a finger around his silver necklace, pulling him in for a kiss. “We’ll always be together.”

So when you received a job promotion a year later, you didn’t know what to say to him. It was your dream job, finally achieving that position after practically hanging on for dear life for five years working in the company. The salary exceeded your expectation, and you would be working under a senior that you admired. The company would pay for all your living expenses, give you your own flat to live with a balcony where you could see the sun rising behind the skyscrapers. It all sounded so perfect. Too perfect.

Except for the part where you had to move to another country that stood three thousand miles from where he was.

You knew you should’ve said something to Donghyuck the first time your director broke the news to you. But you couldn’t as you didn’t know how. During the three years of your relationship, both of you had avoided talking about matters that could lead to fights, only allowing yourselves to discuss trivial, daily things that would make the other pout in annoyance but not fury. The first time you noticed this happened, was when both of you became too busy dealing with your own lives. You had your job to think about, while Donghyuck had his thesis to work on and there wasn’t much time to focus on each other even when you were staying in the same room.

Donghyuck often released his stress by nuzzling his nose against your neck, pulling you into his lap, whispering, “I miss you,” and you reciprocated each time with a kiss but you both stopped before it got too much, with you patting his cheek, apologizing to him with both words and your eyes, “I’m sorry, but I have a Zoom meeting in an hour so I really need to get my presentation done.”

He just sighed, pressing a tiny kiss between your eyebrows. “Well then, I’m gonna go catch some sleep. Don’t work too hard.”

And as he walked to the bedroom, closing the door behind him, leaving you alone in his living room, you realized the distance that grew between you. He used to look back, peeking his head through the door, saying, “Would it really kill you to just join me for, like, fifteen minutes? I’ll be fast, I swear,” which you would answer with a laugh, assuming he was joking. “Why are you laughing? I’m serious!”

Now, he doesn’t even stop to say good night.

You knew you could fix it—he knew he could fix it too—but none of you ever said anything about it, afraid that it would trigger something bigger that neither of you wouldn’t be able to fix.

It didn’t mean that you didn’t try. Every weekend, you would commit yourself fully for him and Donghyuck would accept your unspoken apology with all his heart. You once attempted to drop some clues about your promotion during dinner when he made you your favorite dish, grinning from ear-to-ear as he waited for your reaction. Donghyuck’s Spaghetti Aglio e olio never disappointed you, but you know your words would. So when he was smiling at you, his thumb gliding along your knuckles as he took your hand in his, how could you tell him? 

I just need more time to prepare myself. To find a better way to explain.

But before you could find your words, Donghyuck found your promotion letter.

“What is this?” He asked to your horror, body leaning against the doorframe, your letter in his hand.

The maroon dress you were trying to fold fell from your lap as you stood up abruptly, eyes widening in shock. “That’s—where did you get—”

“What is this?”

“It’s...” You trembled. “My promotion letter.”

“Are you planning to tell me about it?” He wasn’t shouting, didn’t even raise his voice, but to your ears, his voice was thunderous.  

You fidgeted, fingers fisting the hemline of your shirt, desperate for comfort. “Of course, I—” But there were no words. Your brain was too jumbled to find a proper excuse. So when Donghyuck just lowered his gaze, eyes growing colder, and left the room, you could only call out his name.

He only stopped in his tracks when you grasped his wrist. “Did you say yes to this?” His voice was quiet, eerily so, that it sent shivers down your spine.

You nibbled at your bottom lip. “I was—”

“Yes or no?”

He only allowed you to choose, not explain. With a deep breath, you mumbled out, “Yes.”

There was a moment of silence where you could only hear your stuttered breathing but none of his. “Three months,” he murmured, voice deep and hoarse that you barely recognized it. “The letter is three months old. You had all this time to tell me.”

Panic was bubbling up your chest. “I was going to tell you but—”

The rest of your words died instantly the second Donghyuck slammed the letter on the dining table. Without another word, he stomped off to the front door, grabbing his coat.

“Wait!” You chased after his trails, knees wobbling. “Where are you—”

The door was shut close with a bang.

No matter how many times you tried to call him, he never answered. The only thing you could do was stay in his apartment and waited until he came back to his senses. Now that you were alone in the living room, you began to notice just how much of your belongings were positioned in every corner of his apartment. Your toothbrush was next to his, your clothes were hanging inside his wardrobe, your favorite books were on his shelf, and the walls were painted with more photographs of you than his own. In every picture, you could see yourself smiling in his arms, laughing at something he did or said because that was it, wasn’t it? Donghyuck was the only one who could make you smile so freely, without a care in the world.

So why are we in this position?

It was your first big fight and you had no one to blame but yourself. Hours had passed by and tears began to well from how frustrated you were with yourself, but the front door flung open before they could outline your cheeks.

“Hyuck,” you called out, heart breaking at the sound of his name. Donghyuck’s hair was ruffled by the wind, his nose and cheeks reddening from the cold night air. His hands were in his coat’s pockets, his eyes hiding behind his bangs as he kicked his shoes away. He walked past you as if you weren’t there, heading straight to the bedroom.

Judging from the scent and his droopy eyes, you knew he had been drinking. “Are you okay?”

No answer. He took his coat off, throwing it to the bed, along with his phone—which was clearly functional as always. You had expected him to dismiss your calls, but it still hurt being ignored.

Eyebrows knitting in concern, you went to the kitchen to make him a cup of coffee, hoping that a little caffeine would ease the tension as it was something you were both fond of. You stopped to catch your breath, noticing that it was one in the morning.

What should I do?

“Hyuck…” You carefully said, voice quieter than usual as you walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind you. “I’ve made you some coffee. It’ll help warm you up.”

Donghyuck was sitting at the edge of the bed, his phone in his hands, blatantly ignoring you.

“Can we…” You hesitated, fingers curling into tiny balls of fists. “Can we talk..?”

But the silence was deafening.

“Hyuck—”

“What?!” He suddenly roared, making you take a step back, flinching. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I…” You swallowed your breath. “I know you’re upset about me leaving and I’m sorry—”

“Oh, so now you want to talk about this? After I found out about your letter?” Donghyuck didn’t wait for your response. “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this a secret from me! What else are you not telling me?”

Heart dropping to the stomach, you weakly replied, “Nothing, just... I was going to tell you—”

“Yeah? When, exactly?” Donghyuck stood up, throwing his phone to the bed. “When you’re about to go? When you’re about to disappear from my life just like her?”

Being put in the same position as the person who tore his heart to pieces was both sickening and infuriating. “Of course not, I won’t do that to you! I won’t leave you—”

“But that’s all that everybody fucking said!” He threw his hands in the air. “That’s what she said when—”

“Well, I’m not her!” The booming sound of your voice startled you both, but it grew weak in comparison when the eerie silence followed. “Hyuck, you can’t blame me for what she did. I’m not her. I’m not her replacement. Don’t compare me with her.”

For a moment, Donghyuck’s lips were pressed tightly until they grew white. “I never compared you with her,” he said through gritted teeth. “Not until now when you’re doing the same thing, saying the exact same thing to me.”

You cowered slightly under his gaze. The sound of the ticking clock had never felt so loud when you fought for words to say. “It’s my dream job, Hyuck. I’ve been waiting all my life to get this position.”

“Congratulations.” He scoffed, clenching his jaw. “I’m so glad you get what you wanted.”

“You don’t have to force yourself to say words you don’t mean.”

He clicked his tongue in vexation. “Yeah, well, I would’ve meant them, if you had told me about this sooner.”

“I wasn’t able to tell you because I thought you’d be upset about it—”

“Well, I suppose, postponing it until we’re counting days till your leave is going to make me feel fucking elated, isn’t that right, Sweetheart?” There had never been a day where you thought his adorable, warm laughter could turn into something so spiteful. “Let me guess. You’re leaving in like, what, a month?”

You rubbed your tears away before they fell. “Six weeks.”

“Oh, that makes everything so much better! Six weeks!” He cynically laughed, throwing his head back. “You know what? You’re right. I’m so happy. Never been this fucking happy in my whole goddamn life—”

“What do you want me to do?!” The frustration that welled inside your chest finally broke through your lips. “You want me to turn back time so I could tell you right after I heard the news three months ago?”

Donghyuck averted his gaze, his hand going to his head, pulling at his hair roots. “I just don’t understand why if this is so important to you—and if I’m so important to you—why don’t you talk this out with me? Don’t you care about what I think? About how I’d feel?”

Tears were running faster than you could wipe them off your cheeks. “I couldn’t find the right time to tell you.” You choked out. “ And you were busy working on your final thesis too, I didn’t want to bother you—”

“That’s your excuse?!” he gasped in disbelief. “I don’t fucking care about my thesis. I care about you! And you knew how I felt about this—about being in a long-distance relationship—"

“That was the reason why I was waiting for the right time until—“

“Until you can tell me that you’re leaving.” He sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m tired and we’re going in circles. Why are we even discussing this when you’ve made the decision all by yourself.”

Embittered, you asked, “Do you want me to choose between you and my career?”

“No. I don’t.” He finally peered into your eyes, and you could see how there was not as much anger as sadness that emerged in his eyes. “But I’m making my own decision.” When you frowned in confusion, Donghyuck looked away, staring at the wall that was filled with memories as he spoke. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

“What?” It felt like the world was swallowing you whole. “What did you say?”

Exchanging stares with you, Donghyuck appeared more weary than furious. “I just don’t see how this is going to work.”

“You’re drunk.” You reasoned out, both in efforts to calm him down and to wash the fear away from your chest. “You won’t be saying any of this if you were sober.”

Donghyuck’s eyes grew colder. “If that’s what makes you sleep at night, sure. Go ahead and think that way.”

Dread was coursing through your veins, making you feel terrified of what was coming. “Wait,” you almost pleaded, “We need to talk about this.”

“I think we’ve talked enough.”

“Can’t we at least try—”

“I can’t.” The confession escaped his lips, his eyes were heartbroken, as if it was you who was breaking up with him and not the other way around. “You know I can’t do this. I don’t want to repeat the same mistakes. I don’t want to be that guy who constantly gets suspicious or overly protective of you because of my past. It won’t be fair to you.”

“I don’t care if you’re being unfair,” you replied shakily, “I just don’t want us to end what we have now.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice grew softer. “If we continue this, I know I’ll end up saying things I never mean to say. With three thousand miles between us, how often do you think we can see each other? With you being so busy with your new job, how often can we speak?” But the bitterness in his voice came alive when he added, “We could barely do that when we were in the same room before.”

“It’s about that..?” Realization washed over you like a wave. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Same reason as you,” he replied, “To protect our relationship. That’s what we always do, isn’t it? Pretending everything is fine when it’s not?”

“Hyuck, I’ve tried my best to spend time with you... I thought you’d understand that I have a job—”

“You’re right, but unlike you, I don’t.” Donghyuck weakly smiled. “I don’t have anything going on with my life except you. I don’t even know if I can graduate in time. But you’ve achieved so much. You’re only a few years older than me and yet you’ve already had everything figured out, and I admire you for that.” His words sounded sincere but it only tore your heart open even more. Donghyuck walked closer, his fingers pushing the bangs out of your eyes like the way he used to do but it didn’t feel the same. “You’re already perfect the way you are now. You don’t need me in your life.”

“No.” The desperation was so thick in your voice, that it made you wince but not regret. “You’re wrong, you—There’s not a day where I don’t need you, Hyuck. I want you to stay with me. Come with me. We still have time.”

You don’t mean that. Donghyuck brought his head down, unable to meet your eyes. If you did, you would’ve told me about this sooner. “And then what?” he sighed, sounding so tired. “What am I going to do if I come with you? I haven’t even finished my study, let alone having a job.”

“You can find one in—”

“In a country where I can’t even speak the language?” He bitterly smiled. “I doubt it. I’m not gonna let you pay for my needs—”

“Then, I’ll make some time for you, I promise. Better this time.” Your fingernails were sinking into your palms from how tightly you curled them. “No matter how far we are from each other, I’ll call you every day.”

“I don’t want that.” His words were laced with frustration. “I don’t want you to force yourself to do something for me. And I don’t want to spend my nights imagining whether you’re spending yours with someone else.”

“You...” You were so quiet, you wondered if he could hear you properly. “You don’t trust me?”

But Donghyuck shook his head, gaze softening. “I do. I just don’t trust myself.”

Your mind turned into a blank slate, unable to form a word. Donghyuck’s breathing tattered a little when he exhaled, walking to his wardrobe to pick out some clothes. “I’m gonna go stay at Mark’s for the weekend. Feel free to take out your stuff. Just drop the keys at the lobby when you’re finished.”

You stood still, frozen. It almost felt like a heart attack from the way your heart was hammering against your ribcages. “I don’t want to lose you, Hyuck,” you quietly professed, “I thought we could work this out...”

Donghyuck’s movements were put to a halt, just for a couple of seconds, before he continued shoving his clothes down his bag.

You stood on the side as he walked past you, his natural sandalwood scent had disappeared, buried under the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. “So, this is it…?” You fretted. “For us..?”

Donghyuck stopped walking, glancing at you from over his shoulder. “It’s better for both of us, don’t you think?”

But he didn’t wait to hear your answer.

When you dared to appear at his front door six weeks later, it was the night before your departure. He hadn’t called, hadn’t sent you a single text, as if he was a ghost, only living in your imagination. But knowing it was your last chance to see him, you decided to take the first step.

Donghyuck was wearing the same navy blue knitted sweater that he wore the first time you told him you loved him. You remembered how startled he was back then, unsure of what to say as he was afraid to love someone else after knowing how it felt to have his heart shattered to pieces. That time, he only responded with a hug and a small “Thank you.” As you laid in his arms later that night, you spent every second with your eyes closed but your thoughts awake, trying to figure out why won’t he say it back? 

But when you left for work early on the next morning, one arm holding an umbrella over your head to protect you from the morning showers, Donghyuck was chasing after you in the same knitted sweater, his hair messy from sleep but soon be drenched by the rain.

“I love you too!” he shouted, breathlessly, both from running and the rush of adrenaline that pumped through his veins.

You turned around, eyes wide in astonishment, though you didn’t catch his words. “What—” You were about to run so you could shelter him from the rain, but Donghyuck reached your spot faster than you could reach his. “What are you doing? Why didn’t you take an umbrella with you?” You dropped your handbag to the ground, not caring if it got wet from the rain as you focused more on the man who was shivering in front of you. You rubbed his arm up and down before cupping his face. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine. I just have something to say before you go.” He broke into a tender smile, pressing his palm against the back of your hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it back last night. I was afraid. Being in love with someone means you’re giving your heart for them to hold or to crush and I didn’t want to go through that pain again but—” He stepped closer, his temple nearly touching yours as he brought his head down. “I love you. I want you to know that I love you too. I don’t want to lie to myself anymore and I don’t care what’s gonna happen in the future. I just love you, so much, that both my heart and my head feel like they’re going to burst.”

And you could only stare, dumbstruck and in awe.

“Say something, please?” He begged, cold fingers caressing your cheek. “Otherwise, I might have to crawl into a hole and die from shame.”

You chuckled lightly, overwhelmed by the sheer happiness that washed over you. “I love you too.”

He seemed so relieved, almost as much as you were, and he twisted his fingers around your strands, chasing after your lips. The kiss was sweeter than honey but knowing him, even the sweetest kiss emitted so much passion, it left you breathless.

“I’m sorry, I know you gotta go to work,” he said, slightly pushing you away before his emotions defeated him once more and he slanted his lips against yours in a more frenzied manner. “God, I know you have to go,” he whispered between needy kisses. “But just—one more—”

When he finally had the strength to break apart from you, his eyes were conflicted, his thumb caressing your cheek, and Donghyuck wetted his already glistened lip as he stared at yours. “Must you go? I want to be with you today.”

It didn’t matter that the two of you just spent the entire weekend together. No amount of time would be enough to satisfy your needs for each other’s touch. So you answered him with your lips meeting his in a frantic kiss, casting your umbrella aside and it didn’t matter that it was cold, with big droplets of rain easily drenching you from head to toe, because Donghyuck was always ready to warm you up. 

“Then take me home, Lee Donghyuck.”

But you realized as he tugged you back into his arms, soft lips pressing against your temple, you were already home.

Now… That memory felt like a fantasy, one that you could only dream of having.

“I…” You couldn’t meet his eyes. “I just wanted to get the books I left on your shelf.”

He didn’t say a word, only stepping to the side to give you some space to enter. A month had passed by since he broke up with you, and his apartment still smelled delightfully like him, but instead of making you feel joy, it broke your heart even harder.  

“It’s in my room,” he said, all stern with no warmth like he used to have. You nodded, making your way to his bedroom. When you closed the bedroom door behind you, hot tears were about to spill and you tried your best not to be suffocated with the memories of the nights where you used to share your feelings with him, bodies tangled underneath the sheets, lips carving marks on each other’s skins.

You couldn’t breathe.

By the time you managed to collect yourself, you came out of his room with two of your books in your hands while you left ten more on his shelf. You didn’t need any of them. It was only a poor excuse for you to see his eyes once more before you bid your final farewell.

“I made you some coffee,” he said, leaning against the coffee table. “It’s cold outside so…”

You weakly smiled. “Thank you.”

You used to spend hours chattering behind a few cups of coffee, talking about the things that mattered and things that didn’t because everything felt special when you shared them with someone you loved.

But today, every sip of your coffee sounded louder than your voice as no words were shared.

You said you care

And you missed me too

And I'm well aware I write too many songs about you

“How are you?”

“I’m doing great,” he answered formally. It’s funny how he didn’t need spiteful words to hurt you. The absence of his affection in his sentences was more than enough to strangle you.

“Are you… still writing lyrics for Mark’s songs these days?”

“No. I’m busy these days.”

“Oh… With your thesis?”

“Sure.”

Donghyuck didn’t tell you the truth. Didn’t tell you how many papers had been written, scratched, discarded just so he could deal with the thoughts of you. Didn’t tell you the words he wrote about your pretty eyes, your pretty smiles, your kindness, your passion, your everything.

The reason why he let you go was because he knew, you would probably stay with him if he’d asked the question. He didn’t want you to have any regrets. Didn’t want you to choose him because you felt like you had no other way.

It felt like you betrayed him when you kept it a secret for months.

What else will you keep from me, if you can’t even tell me you’re leaving? Will you keep it a secret when you no longer love me the way you used to? Will you keep it a secret when you find someone new, someone better, someone who can stay to wipe your tears and hold you in their arms while I’m three thousand miles away from you? Will you pretend like everything is fine, when we’re straying further away from each other every day?

In Donghyuck’s mind, he thought you’d be better on your own. At such a young age, you managed to chase after your dreams while he was still unsure of what he wanted to have in the future. To him, you were always a step ahead. And tomorrow, you’d be taking your first step to another place where he wouldn’t have the strength to follow. 

His thoughts about you were never-ending. And he wrote so much, poured every feeling down to papers, that now as you stood before him in person, there were no more words left to be said and he could only reply your sentences with silence.

And the coffee's out

At the Beachwood Cafe

And it kills me 'cause I know we've run out of things we can say

“I’ll be leaving tomorrow,” you eventually said and Donghyuck glanced at you from behind his bangs, but never stayed for a second longer.

He knew. Of course, he did. He had been counting the days, dreading every second of it. “Take care of yourself,” he responded in a way a stranger would say to another stranger at the end of their brief meeting. “Good luck with your job. I’m sure you’ll be fine, Noona.”

Noona... He didn’t even want to call you by your name or the sweet terms he’d once associated with you. You were truly strangers now.

“Thanks.” You forced yourself to smile, nails sinking into your thighs as you brought your hands to your lap. “You too. Don’t forget to take your breakfast every day. You always skip it.”

It was your job to remind him, who used to serve fried eggs and toasts on his plate and maybe Donghyuck remembered that too because he brought his head down, and simply replied with a hum.

When you took your leave, you handed him a note to your new address. “Just… Come visit whenever you’re in the country. I’d love to show you around.” It sickened you how formal you sounded, but you couldn’t say it any other way.

When Donghyuck took the note, your fingers brushed against his, it almost seemed like the time stopped, just for a little, and he wanted to pull you into his embrace, to tell you how much he’d been missing you the same way you’d been missing him. To tell you how much he wanted to be selfish, to have you choose him over everything in your life because that was how you meant to him. You were everything to him.

Just like how you are to me.

So when he dropped his hand, tucking it inside his pocket, you knew it was really over. Finally, the word goodbye took its true form.

And I get the feeling that you’ll never need me again.

#nctsworldfwc #haechan smut #haechan fluff #donghyuck smut #haechan x reader #haechan imagines #haechan scenarios #donghyuck fluff #haechan angst #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream smut #nct dream fluff #donghyuck x reader #haechan timestamps #haechan blurbs #haechan drabbles #mine #sundaysundaes #might write a happy ending for this cause i feel this is too angsty and i don't really like angsty endings #but idk lol

[joyfulhopelox]

"I've never cried over a broken dryer before"-"And you better not start now"

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Jungkook x reader (College!AU/ University!AU)

Genre: smut with a saltbae of fluff

Warnings: alcohol use, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, swearing, bit of dom! JK, biting

Summary: Upon entering the club you come across a familiar face. Turns out your laundry adventures were not over. Who knew that clean laundry could lead to dirty talk?

Word count: 6.5k

rating : 18+

A/N: Massive thank you to @bangtanhome for not only being my beta but also my support and making this whole thing a polished princess. Thank you Moon so much for taking the time to edit and thank you for listening to me whilst I complained about this. And most importantly massive thank you for giving me pointers. This is my first piece of nsfw writing and I was extremely unsure about putting it out there but you’ve literally been an angel and were patient with my unsure self whilst also making sure you made this readable <3 -I also would like to thank my soulmate and best friend for putting up with me and dying in the process of reading a fic about her bias. I will warn that i massively sleep deprived at this point but i wanted to get this out with the occasion of the Muster 2021 so here she is!

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner

As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3

Fuck. You’d overslept. You weren’t panicking because you were going to be late; you were normally late anyway. But as soon as your eyes opened, you felt the grogginess that comes with sleeping a bit too much. Your body felt sluggish, joints throbbing and your mouth feeling like you've stuffed cotton balls in it. Feeling like you've been through a survival show, you know it'll take at least an hour for your body to wake up properly. However, you didn’t have time to let yourself slowly come to. You were already late. Any later than this and you may just as well stay home for the night- and go back to sleep. You reveled in the thought for a second, but no. Your friends were impatiently waiting for you to go out clubbing with them. And most importantly to lend them your car. You knew that only because they have called and messaged you incessantly for the past hour reminding you of it. You were thankful at least that you were not the designated driver for the night. Normally you’d draw straws and this time you had got lucky, you could drink as much as you wanted.

‘Good lord Y/N get your ass out of bed,’ you hyped yourself up and just like a bandaid, you ripped yourself from your covers and rolled out of bed. Landing with a thud you groaned upon impact. That was going to leave a bruise.

After a quick shower to get the cobwebs cleared off your mind, you put on a dress. You didn’t wear dresses normally, your wardrobe consisted mostly of pants and various tops. To be tightly encased in a dress that was a bit too short for comfort made you feel uncomfortable, but you knew that as soon as you had some alcohol into you, things would change. A loud knock at your door told you that your friends had finally arrived so you hurriedly grabbed your purse and keys and were out the door. You hesitated for a moment, the feeling of having forgotten something weighing on your mind. When you couldn’t figure out what it was, you decided that it must not be important. Plus, your friends were waiting; time to get the show on the road.

As soon as you entered the club, the heavy smell of smoke, sweat and alcohol hit your sensitive nose. The atmosphere was too loud and obnoxious for your sober brain. To remedy that, your friends decided to stop by the bar first and buy a round of shots to get the night started. With the burn of the alcohol running down your throat, your confidence levels increased. The dress didn’t make you feel uncomfortable anymore, instead you prowled around, your hips moving to the beat. You were aware of the lustful stares that you were receiving and you thrived off of it. Tonight you were on the hunt, ready to let loose after the stressful week full of exams.

“Hey, Y/N. Muscle at 12 o’clock has been giving you the look more than a couple of times,” your friend leaned in to make themselves heard over the loud music. “Try not to be obvious, but I'd say he’s a 10.” You nodded in acknowledgment running a finger over the rim of your glass.

“He’s looking away now, look look,” they nudged you, forcing you to turn around. In all honesty, you weren’t interested in going home with anyone. You were simply enjoying the admirative stares and the smouldering gazes that were thrown your way, but you had no intention to take any of them home with you. However, when you turned around, you were faced with the impossible task of reconsidering. The back of the man your friends' pointed out was indeed muscular, broad and strong, you could see the muscles popping underneath the black shirt he wore. The sleeves of the shirt were pushed up to his elbows, allowing a full display of tattoos on his right arm.

Normally you would have second thoughts about a person like that, but there was something about his demeanour that drew you in even without seeing his face.

The handsome man motioned to one of his friends and his whole body shook with laughter. Observing the way the shirt strained against his muscles you licked your lips involuntarily. For a second you thought he looked strangely familiar, and before you could convince yourself you were being paranoid, he turned his head to the side to entertain the person to his right.

The messy mop of hair, defined jawline and that bridge of the nose they all belonged to the laundry boy - Jungkook. You smirked, “I’d give it a 15 actually”. As soon as you said that, he threw you a glance, his smile wavered as he made eye contact. You felt satisfied at the recognition in his eyes.

You slowly turned back to your friends, certain he would come to you. It took him the entirety of the time you took to finish your drink to make his way towards you.

“Don’t look, he’s coming.”

“Oh, he will be,” you smirked, eyes twinkled with excitement as your friends laughed at your slurring words.

Jungkook had noticed your enticing figure entering the club from the very beginning. It was as if a magnet pulled him towards you. He recognised you as soon as he laid eyes on you. How could he not? The cute girl from the laundry room in the daylight turned into an alluring vixen during nighttime. His eyes were drawn to your hips, the curve of your back and the tempting strip of skin he could spy; they were enticing to him. He tried his best to focus on the way your eyes sparkled in delight when one of your friends would make a joke, but when you ran a finger over the rim of your glass tracing delicate patterns, he felt your siren pull.

You smelt him before you felt him, the subtle vanilla enveloping your senses overpowering the scent of sweat from around you. He stopped right behind you, with one hand on the stool next to you; not completely encasing your form, but close enough that you could see his jawline in your periphery. Leaning in under the guise of ordering a drink from the bartender he pulled the stool and sat down. He didn’t address you at first, patiently waiting for his drink, his long fingers tapping the counter in rhythm with the beat. You tried your hardest not to stare at his hands, the art on them fascinating to you: the doodle style art accentuating his knuckles and the veins running tracing all the way up to where his skin hid beneath his shirt. You tried to keep a poised front, talking to your friends as if he was not there, but you could feel the heat of his stares from time to time, goosebumps forming on your skin.

You knew your friends were getting drunker and drunker as time passed, but you’d underestimated them. Soon enough they each scattered around the surface of the club looking for a dance partner. Your friend left you in charge of the drinks they ordered, winking at you suggestively as they left. That meant you were alone. And judging by the way your skin prickled, Jungkook was still seated next to you.

“A gin and tonic, please,” he ordered another drink. You realised now would be the perfect time to not only talk to him, but also repay him for earlier. As the bartender presented him with the bill you turned around and smoothly presented your card to him. “Make it two on the same tab.” you smirk, winking at Jungkook when your eyes met his.

You heard Jungkook laugh at your brazen attitude and you had to admit to yourself, if not for the alcohol you’d had earlier, you would’ve probably walked away. You made direct eye contact with him and smiled.

“Nice to see you again, laundry boy,” you smirked. Jungkook looked taken aback for a second. The image of you in the laundry room is completely erased. What he saw in front of him now was an alluring woman, sure of herself and what she wanted. And she made it clear that she wanted him. Hiding a smirk behind his hand he leans closer to you, his breath fanning the hair stuck at the nape of your neck.

“It’s Jungkook, not 'laundry boy',” he yells over the music. Your shoulders shake with laughter.

“I know, but it is fun to tease you - Jungkook.” He smiled at you, his eyes crinkling in delight. He's caught onto what you were doing and he was ready for it, two could play at this game.

“What’s your name?” You were half expecting him to pull a bad pick up line, the earlier impression that you had of him still engraved into your mind. When he didn't, you smiled, hiding your satisfaction. Maybe he really was worth a 15 and not a 10.

“What, no ‘I didn’t catch it’? No ‘I bet it hurt’? I’m offended, do I not deserve a bad pick up line?” you grinned at him and he burst out laughing, the sound reverberating through you making a shiver run down your spine.

“You got the drinks, pretty girl, there’s no way I can use a pick up line now,” you started laughing earnestly. He was definitely not what you had expected. The muscly tattooed facade was clearly done just for the purpose of aesthetics, and not because he slotted right in with the rest of the douches.

“Fair play, but I did say I was going to pay you back earlier,” you gesture with your head as if to point out which earlier moment you meant.

“I see. This is how you intended to keep your word then” Jungkook said just as the bartender places the drinks in front of you both handing him something. “But as it happens, I am a step ahead of you” he waved a card in front of you. His satisfied smirk made you pause flustered. Realising he’s already given his card to the bartender earlier you blushed.

“That’s not fair, laundry boy” you pout. “Now I have to find another way to repay you” you fumbled with the card the bartender handed over to you struggling to place it back in your clutch.

“I am sure we can find other ways” you paused looking at him. Under normal circumstances you would have found that to be incredibly off putting, but noticing the way he scrutinised you so intensely, no hidden message behind his smoldering gaze you squeezed your thighs together a wave of heat enveloping you.

You took a sip of your drink to mask the deepening blush and cleared your throat. You knew that if you gave him your name you were in for the ride. “It’s Y/N” you took another sip, savouring the taste of the alcohol.

“What?” Jungkook wasn’t expecting you to hand him your name so freely.

“It’s Y/N” you yelled louder and leaned into him thinking he hadn’t heard you because of the music. The waft of your perfume clouds his senses, the smell of cotton and lilac enveloping him. Needing to be closer to you he chanced it and asked you for a dance.

You finished your drink with a gulp and nodded your head. You grabbed his wrist and started making your way through the mob of people. Jungkook couldn’t help but stare at the way your hips swayed to the beat and when you threw him an alluring look over your shoulder he couldn’t help but be lost. He felt like a puppy following your sultry form through the crowd.

You finally stopped in the middle of the dancefloor, your moves more accentuated following the beat of the music. Jungkook stopped a few inches away from you, unsure whether or not he should place his arms around you yet.

You stepped closer to his body, your movement predatory. “Come on laundry boy, you can do better than that. Think of this as part of the payment” you winked at him. You could see the shift in his eyes, a flash of something heavy across his face, his demeanour changing in an instant from uncertain to commanding in a second. He gripped your waist tightly and pulled you flush against him moving along with the beat.

For a second all you could feel and smell was him. His domineering attitude instantly turned you on with the silent promise behind it. “Oh, this is just the beginning” he moved his hands so that his arms encased your waist intending to savour the feeling of you against him. Fully intending to see where this night ended you hooked your fingers into his belt, your bodies so close together they melded into one.

“Bring it on lover boy.”

The oppressive atmosphere of the club was enough to cloud all your senses. The alcohol running through your veins made you braver than you would have ever been. The smirk Jungkook threw at you was almost tantalising. Inviting you to commit sin. And the thought of tasting his lips and running your hands through his hair whilst his breath fanned over your throat was mouth watering. You’d been skirting around each other for the whole night, laughing, drinking, talking, but most importantly eyeing each other up. The last straw for you was when a rogue drink came flying out of nowhere and drenched the two of you. The liquid mixed with his sweat and snaked its way from his temple down to his jaw. You watched as the drops ran lower and lower as if directing your gaze towards his chest. Swallowing thickly you knew that you were a goner. If he’s ask to fuck you right there on the dance floor, you would surrender instantly.

Smirking at your lust filled expression, Jungkook knew he had you where he wanted. He had been staring at your lips for the whole night, entranced at the way the plumpness was enhanced by the sheen from when you’d run the tip of your tongue over them. He was mesmerised. He could also imagine that tongue running over his- he tried to stop himself there, aware that he’d get hard if he kept going in that direction. He could already feel the strain against his pants.

“Another drink?” he offered, and you shook your head at him. Another drink was definitely not what you wanted. What you wanted was him, to kiss you until your lips were raw and to pound into you senselessly until you could hardly remember your name. Were you drunk enough for this? Probably not, but you did not care for once. You wanted to remember this.

Leaning closer to you with the excuse of the loud music, his breath fanned the nape of your neck and the sensitive shell of your ear, making you shiver. “Then what would you like, love?”

There it was, the thousand dollar question. It was now or never. Taking a deep breath in you looked him straight in the eyes with determination. It made Jungkook shiver. You looked fierce and incredibly alluring. It took all the strength he had in him to not shove you on top of the bar and kiss your brains out. “Tell me?” he coaxed you.

He knew what you wanted. You had been obvious for the whole night. But so had he. Throughout your conversation you were undressing each other with your eyes. You noticed the way he couldn’t keep his eyes away from your ass when you would lean over the bar to ask for one more round of drinks.

Under normal circumstances, that thought would have made you nervous. This time it gave you the courage you needed to let yourself go. To switch from being the player to the one played. And if he was the one doing that, you didn’t mind one bit. “I want you” you bit your lip and looked at him from under your eyelashes. His eyes darkened with lust. Mind clouded with desire, he grabbed your wrist tightly and without a word started making his way through the crowd. The roar of the drunken crowd, the smell of sweat and alcohol, and the feel of sticky bodies bumping into you didn’t matter anymore. All your focus was on the way his back muscles moved with every turn of his body. Suddenly a flash of the same back muscles, naked, moving as he towered over you and thrust his hips into yours made your stomach clench and you could feel your panties getting damp. God you wanted him so badly.

Jungkook could see your wistful lust-filled eyes becoming hazier and he sped up the pace. He finally stopped when he reached an empty corridor near the back exit. He would have liked to have more privacy than that, but something about making you beg for him in a public place made his cock twitch in anticipation. He really needed to get a hold of himself otherwise he’d be done before you’d even started.

He tugged at your wrist and lightly pushed you into the wall, he would have taken things a lot slower but your gaze told him to hurry up and take you then and there. And who was he to deny you?

His eyes raked over your body, and a sigh escaped his lips. “Beautiful”. Even though he craved to taste you, he took a moment to appreciate the way your eyes glistened with passion, your chest heaving along with your breaths and your perfume clouding his senses. He wondered if you tasted as sweet as you smelt.

A fistful of your hair in his hands, he pulled you flush against him, until all you could feel were the hard planes of his chest and his hardened member poking at your abdomen causing you to moan, your panties getting wetter.

You whimpered at the sensation as his fingers gripped the sensitive hairs at the back of your skull, goosebumps forming on your skin in anticipation. Expecting him to attack your mouth with the same hunger that was displayed in his eyes you leaned more into him.

You silently begged him to release the coil that had formed in your stomach but he wanted you to beg. His breath fanned the pieces of hair that fell onto your face. The last rebellious piece of you that refused to fall into his clutches. In a desperate attempt to get him to kiss you, touch you - do something, you grabbed tightly onto his biceps relishing in the feel of the muscle tensing underneath your fingers.

“You’re not playing fair laundry boy,” you huff, feeling frustrated over the lack of contact. His laugh, dark, deep and lascivious sent a shiver down your spine.

“Baby girl, that’s not my name” his free hand clasped onto your waist squeezing hard enough to send a jolt through the pit of your stomach all the way down to your heated core. “Jungkook” you whimper and in a last attempt you hook your leg around his thin waist.

“That’s it baby” he lowered the hand on your waist towards your thigh, his fingers leaving an indentation in the skin. Seizing the opening you started grinding your core onto his thigh trying to relieve the ache. His lips ghost over your neck in a tantalizing way, his tongue sweeping over the nape briefly tasting your saltiness. The sensation of his warm tongue on the exposed area of your neck followed by the coldness from the air makes you moan. You could smell his perfume, combined with the musky scent of his sweat and alcohol made your head swim in delight.

“Jungkook, please” , you exposed your neck to him needing more. Rolling your hips into his thigh you could feel the blood pumping underneath your skin, the pleasure overshadowing any rational thought. The friction between your clit and his pants left you breathless, the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter ready to unfurl. All of a sudden Jungkook stepped a few inches away, and you lost contact with his leg. Robbed of your release, you instantly whine.

“Mmmm, I can't have you cum on my leg, as much as I would like to see you ride it out on your own. I need to taste you.” he demanded. The hand still supporting your leg inched closer and closer to your dripping cunt. Slipping a cold hand under the hem of your dress his fingers made contact with your heated core causing you to jerk. You yelped, your hips bucking into his hand. Your hands latched tightly onto his shoulders, your fingers digging into them in an attempt to steady yourself. He cupped you through your panties, the heel of his palm pressing into you. Muffling a moan into his shoulder you begged him to touch you more, but he retracted it away from your tender flesh.

“Nuh-uh not yet.” The hand pinched your thigh and you tried not to cry at the feelings bubbling up inside you. You were frustrated and horny, and his taunts were enough to make you crave for more.

“Laundry boy” you warn, staring him dead in the eye.

“Y/N, what did I say about my name” he pulled at the hair he still gripped tightly in his hand. Cradling you close to him he bucks his knee into your core, this time freely offering the friction that you had been yearning for. You whined, the lewd sound echoing in his ear. Your clit on fire, you pressed yourself more into his knee.

“That’s it, moan for me with those pretty lips” gaining a bit of self control you decided it was time for you to step up your game.

“Do you not want to see what else these pretty lips can do?” you licked your lips, your heart racing. Your hooded eyes suggested more than Jungkook would have expected from you.

“Dirty girl” biting his lip before he crashed them onto yours, the contact making your lips smack and your teeth clash. Neither of you care as your tongues intertwine, carrying the battle that your hips are craving. The friction between you caused your whole body to heat up, your senses heightened. You could feel every bit of him against you. The way one hand gripped your thigh and the other pulled at the sensitive hairs at the nape of your neck, the way his tongue roughly caressed yours. He was intoxicating. In the heat of the moment he roughly pushed you into the wall behind you, the force causing you to moan into his mouth.

Jungkook was at the end of his wits, he had to have you now. He needed to taste you, see you unfurl in front of him as he eats you out. Breaking the kiss, your mouth sore, he observed the way your pants made your chest rise up and down, pushing your breasts into him.

Without a word, he attacked your mouth once again for a brief second before he trailed down your jaw to your neck, nipping the sensitive skin in the process. The hand on your thigh reached once more underneath the hem of your dress, this time making its way fully and cupping your dripping core. At the touch of his hand on your sensitive clit your knees buckled and you let your weight onto him, your forehead dropping onto his shoulder for support. You tried to suppress a moan.

“Let it all out baby” his mouth at the shell of your ear, the tip of his tongue trailing the delicate flesh there. “You’re so wet” he moans, “I can't wait to taste you.” His finger dipped under the band of your panties trailing over your center. “So soft” - he sucked your earlobe into his mouth and gave it a small bite - "so wet for me”

This time you couldn’t hold back your moan. The feel of his finger pressed into your folds, parting them and exposing your clit to his ministrations had you squirming. The tip of his finger started drumming in a rhythmic steady fashion on your engorged button. The feel of his lips caressing the sore earlobe relieving the sting from the bite is too much for you. “Jungkook please, I need..” your moans getting louder and louder as the pad of his finger presses harder in an unrelenting tempo.

The hand holding your neck slowly inched towards the swell of your breasts, picking the flesh there until it turned sore. His fingers still attached to your sensitive bud he suddenly drops on his knees in front of you. With his support now gone you try to grip uselessly at the wall behind you. He slots himself between your legs, forcing them to spread open. As he raised the hem of your dress and pushed your panties to the side you couldn’t help but look down. The sight of him between your legs glancing up at you made your knees buckle. With one hand tracing your folds and the other gripping your hip tightly to hold you in place he gives you an uncertain look. “Is this ok Y/N?” his concern for your approval makes your heart melt, but you were too high strung to think about that. You wanted him, and you wanted him now.

“Please” you moan in approval.

With your approval he dived right in, too hungry for your taste. Parting your folds with his fingers he starts by giving you a tentative lick. Being sensitive from his fingers you writhe, your hands desperately clutching at the wall behind you. Savouring the first taste of you he thrums with his finger at your clit. You arched your back, your hands giving up on trying to hold onto the wall. Instead they found their way into his hair, fingers gripping tightly.

Diving back in Jungkook starts lapping earnestly at your folds, his finger still applying pressure onto your sensitive nub. Bucking into his face you suppress a moan. The sensation of his wet tongue prodding at your entrance is too much to take and your knees buckle. Jungkook sensed the shift in your weight and quickly grabbed a hold of your leg, hoisting it over his shoulder. The hand attached to your clit now tightly gripped your calf. The change in position offered the extra support you needed to not fall over.

With your entrance now completely opened to him his tongue started rapidly tracing your folds, only stopping to suck on your clit.

“Jungkook” the overstimulation from his tongue lapping up your wetness and his teeth nipping at the sensitive cluster of nerves is too much to handle, you can feel yourself take over, and Jungkook is more than happy to let you go at your own pace. Grinding over his face, your hands still gripping at his hair, you ride his tongue at your own pace desperate to reach your climax.

You can feel it, you are so close to release you could almost taste it.

Suddenly he entered a finger, knuckle deep into you pumping in and out quickly. Letting your calf go but making sure he is still supporting your weight with his body he leaves you sensitive nub alone and traces kisses along your inner thigh, up to your navel. The dress now obscuring other parts of you he gets up, his finger still deep in you, drawing pleasurable mewls out of your mouth.

“That’s it baby girl, tell me what you need” he is panting in your ear now. With the taste of you still lingering on his tongue and the sight of you coming undone from his ministrations makes him harder than he’s ever been. He felt uncomfortable under the constraints of his pants, the zip digging painfully.

“I need you to fuck me” you finally moan, your hips grinding against him chasing for that sweet release.

“I need you to come for me first baby, I need to see your pretty face when you cum all over my fingers” swiftly he changes fingers, his thumb now drumming at your sensitive clit. You gasp as a finger teases your entrance for a brief second before it penetrates your pussy.

The loud sounds coming from the club were not enough to drown out the lewd sounds that your wet pussy was making whilst Jungkook’s finger pistoned into you. The shot fire along with the shameless sounds you were making were enough to make the tight coil in your belly unfurl. With a deep loud moan you bit Jungkook’s shoulder in an attempt to muffle the yell that was threatening to spill out of your lips. Your muscles clenching in tandem with your core. Jungkook felt your cunt clamping his fingers tightly and a low grunt escaped past his lips. He could almost imagine how wet and tight you would be around him.

“That’s it beautiful, let go”

Your hips carried on buckling, chasing the high and wishing it would not stop. Jungkook took his time observing how your head fell down and your mouth opened slightly in a silent satisfied scream, how your eyes scrunched up as if you were trying to cut off all your senses apart from the feeling of his fingers in you. You were beautiful. When at last your muscles relaxed and your high subsided a low sigh fell out of your lips. It has been a long time since someone has made you cum like that with just their fingers. Jungkook’s finger still lazily traced your clit, the overstimulation too much for you to handle.

“Jungkook '' you whined trying to back away from him but the tight grip on your waist wasn’t allowing you to move more than a few inches away. Without a word Jungkook pulled his hand out of your panties and let go of you. Your knees still weak from your climax you struggle to stand up right and you end up having to lean into him slightly for support. The sight of him licking his fingers coated in your juices sets you on fire once more.

“You’re beautiful when you cum Y/N.” Somehow, his words made you blush. The lewd act that you both partook in had failed to make you blush, instead what made you self conscious was the way he gazed at you. It was softer and more intense and it made your stomach clench once more. If not for the obscene act in the deserted corridor of a club, you might’ve actually entertained the idea that he cared.

You smiled shyly at him and in that moment he was swept away by the warmth expanding from his chest. You were indeed beautiful. And witty, and smart, and you liked to do your laundry. What more could he want? Cupping your face, he kissed you once more, slowly and with purpose. You gasped, you were not used to this gentle Jungkook. Taking the opportunity to pull you closer once more, his tongue mapped every inch of your mouth.

“Fuck me now please” you whisper against his lips. Your hand on his belt moved slowly over the bulge in his pants. He bucked into your touch at the feel of your fingers wrapping around him as much as you could with his pants still on.

“Y/N” he warns. If you carried on that way he would definitely come in his pants. Rubbing him slowly, you could feel his member harden even more under your touch.

“Is it uncomfortable babe?” you whisper in his ear. “How about I return the favour?” you unzip his pants prepared to lower yourself to the floor but he grabs your shoulders keeping you in place.

As much as he would have liked to feel those soft lips around him, he knew that if anyone were to bump into you two, it would not be good. The club was full of students going to the same university as you. If they were to find you on your knees blowing him it would instantly kill your reputation. He did not want that to happen.

“Not here” he zips his pants back up and grabs your hand gently. After all that had transpired between you this soft almost domestic treatment is not what you were expecting. Once again the warm feeling in your heart returned, and this time you were a bit more sober. He was cute, and somehow you found his duality endearing. He returned to being laundry boy Jungkook instead of the dominant Jungkook you’ve just witnessed.

You walked through the club, his hand still gripping you tightly as if he was afraid he’ll lose you in the crowd. Once you reached the outside you took a deep breath in relishing in the way the fresh air soothed your heated skin. Glancing up at Jungkook you noticed he was on his phone texting someone.

“I am texting my friends to let them know I have left,” he explained, putting his phone back in his pocket, smiling at you. The contrast of his lust-filled gaze from before and his gleeful smile almost gave you a whiplash. He was such a contradiction that you couldn’t help but be intrigued by him.

“And I ordered an Uber” as soon as he’d said that a car pulled over right in front of you. The ride back to the campus was a quiet one. It wasn’t an uncomfortable quietness though, having chatted about anything and everything in the club you were content to just put your thoughts in order. You noticed that he had not let go of your hand once during that time but with his gaze out the window, his face thoughtful you could not bear to say anything. Plus, you were enjoying the feel of his smooth hands holding yours.

As the car pulled up in front of the dorm you both shared a glance, an understanding passing in between the two of you.

Once inside the fire inside you sparked up again. Grabbing at each other, your mouths hungrily clashing, you stumbled all the way to the elevator. It was late enough that no one would see you two messily making your way to your room. As soon as you entered the lift and separated to press the correct button you finally remembered what you’d forgotten. If you were a bit more sober you would have laughed at the hilarity of the situation.

Your face fell. “The laundry” you whined in distress. Jungkook’s mouth fell. He threw you a panicked look thinking that you’d changed your mind. One glance at you was enough to tell him that you were panicking in earnest.

“What happened to the laundry?” his hand hovering over the lift buttons unsure of what to do.

“I forgot to put the laundry in the dryer!” you looked at him with such drunken despair he had to hold his laughter in. He did not want to offend you by laughing in your face. You were sober enough to not slur your words, but clearly not sober enough to process your own feelings.

“Let's get that done then.” He decided that as much as he liked your witty self, as well as you in the throes of passion, he adored this side of you too; your guard down, emotions on display. It made his heart swell thinking that you were entrusting him with your vulnerabilities.

You rushed ahead of him entering the laundry room, not paying attention to anything but the lone machine still loaded with your clothes. You quickly opened it, the smell of clean cotton wafting around you.

“Let me help.” Jungkook grabbed the pile of clothes you were holding and moved them into the dryer next to him. As soon as everything was loaded in you turned to smile at him. The panic in your eyes now replaced by the same hunger that governed your mind earlier, you grab him forcefully, clashing your mouth against his. Your hips slammed together in an attempt to ride the pleasure from before. Jungkook, not having expected you to be so forceful, moaned into your mouth and instantly hardened against your hip bone. The quiet of the laundry room was filled with the sounds of your pants as you continued to kiss. In the heat of the moment, Jungkook places his hands on your ass, hoisting you up on the laundry machine behind you. The position allowed your hips to align perfectly, the pressure of his dick now directly onto your clit. Before you could go further Jungkook stopped and looked at you.

“You need to start the dryer,” with the last of his restraints he motioned to the still machine. You glare at him, this being the second time he cockblocks you and himself. But his gaze was unwavering. You sighed and leaned away from him, reaching for the top of the dryer as well as you could still atop of the laundry machine. “Whatever you say laundry boy.”

After pressing down on the start button, you’re quick to return to kissing him. But the quietness of the room seemed odd to you. The dryer had not started. Confused, you look at it again, certain that you pressed the right button. Pressing it once more you wait this time. The dryer stayed still.

The chaotic emotions from before enveloped you again and this time you could feel tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” Jungkook is throwing you a worried look, not having expected the sight of your tears.

“It’s not started! It’s broken!” you exclaim tears pooling barely hanging onto your bottom lashes. You pushed him gently aside and hopped off the laundry machine. “Why has it not started?”

The desperate look you gave him paired with the knowledge that the machine was not doing what you wanted because you had not paid makes him crack and start laughing. You gape at his bunny smile and crinkly eyes offended until the silliness of the situation catches up to you and you can’t help but join.

“I have never cried over a broken dryer before. Or been cockblocked by one” you glance at him, mirth in both your eyes.

“And you better not start now” he warns you jokingly. You stare at each other for a second before you burst out laughing again.

He can’t help but be enamoured by you and your silliness. Even though the night had not gone as you’d both planned. You both crying in laughter over a dryer makes him think that maybe there was something more there than a one night stand. And he was more than ready to give it a try.

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