#and i say this as i repost this for the second time after deleting my first blog which i had for four years | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jj-one · 1 month

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HATE YOU

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

pairing: enemies to lovers ? (sorta one-sided tho), college au, fuckboy!jungkook x f!reader genre/tags: smut, angst, alcohol usage, dirty talk, lowkey perverted!jk, fingering, piv, unprotected sex (oof), drunk sex, public sex (reader & jk do it at a house party), riding, video recording **pls don’t do none of this irl LMAO words: 2.7k

**old repost from my deleted blog

Hate is a strong word— at least that’s what people try and say. You meant it though, it was a word you didn’t use lightly. Especially when it came to your opinion on 99% of the male population at your school. You couldn’t stand most of them, they all just wanted one thing. Getting into your pants.

You despised hook-up culture with a passion and it didn’t help that most guys who tried talking to you were all the same. You had a special hatred for a particular individual the most though— Jeon Jungkook from your physics class. He was the most arrogant, conceited, egotistical person you’ve ever met your whole life.

Every class he would have a different girl with him wrapped around his arm, walking him to the door like he’s some kind of royalty. The way almost every girl would swoon over him just because he’s good looking was baffling to you. Yeah he may have a pretty face but does that cancel everything else out? Of course not. You’ll never understand why these women would choose to go after someone like him, you felt embarrassed for them honestly.

“Jungkook, meet me after class I’ll be waiting for you!” Some girl shouted through the door to get his attention.

He was sitting two seats from you, looking at his phone while paying no mind to the obvious screaming being directed to him. He was so full of himself it was ridiculous.

“Hey y/n, what’re you doing tonight?”

That voice startled the hell out of you. Who gave Jungkook the right to even be speaking to you right now? Looking over in his direction, you give him an empty stare.

“Why do you care?” You said harshly.

It makes no sense why he would even try talking to you, you’ve never given him any indication you liked him.

“Sheesh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” he chuckles, “you should pull up to my party tonight!” You wanted to almost physically gag at the wink he just gave you.

“I’m good.” You shut him down quickly and try moving on but he doesn’t let you off that easy.

“You sure? The whole schools practically gonna be there, you don’t wanna miss out on all the fun do ya?” That annoying smirk on his face was really starting to irritate you.

“I said I’m good, I’d never show up to one of your dumb ass parties.”

“I think you got me mixed up with someone else, my parties are always lit. If you have a change of heart though, I’ll make sure to show you a real good time.”

You scoff, utterly disgusted by his last comment, just about everything he said had sexual undertones to them. His humor was weird and extremely perverted which heavily pissed you off. You couldn’t wait for this class to be over.

“We’re almost here!” Yuna exclaims in the passenger seat.

You were in the back with two of your other friends as you were headed to a party. You weren’t totally up for partying tonight but ultimately your friends were able to convince you to go. You don’t even know where the party is but maybe it’s good to get your mind off things.

“Oh, by the way who’s party is this?” You ask suddenly as Lisa pulls into a driveway.

The car got silent for a second, no one answered your question. It was a bit odd to you the way they all froze up.

“Actually… it’s Jungkook’s party…” Lisa finally spoke, her eyes kept trailing away from you.

“What the fuck? Of all places you choose to go you pick him?!” You felt so betrayed.

They really drove you all the way here just to trick you into coming and now you have no escape plan. They all begged and pleaded for you to suck it up and let loose for just one night. You finally agreed but only under the condition that you want to be far away from him as possible.

“Why do you even dislike him so much? You would think he had murdered someone or something!” Your friend asks.

“I just think he’s a pretentious asshole that doesn’t deserve all the hype he gets.”

They just shrug your opinion off and get out the car. You huff as you open the door and head to the party with the rest of them.

You instantly felt claustrophobic once you go inside. There were crowds of people everywhere. Jungkook was right, everyone at the school was practically here. Loud rap music was blaring through the speakers, red solo cups scattered the floor, people getting sloppy drunk or stoned; the perfect stereotypical house party.

You haven’t seen him yet so that was a good sign and you go up to the kitchen to get drinks with Lisa. 20 minutes pass by now and Lisa was left out of your sight. You have no idea where she could’ve run off to and now you have to search the place to find your friends.

Heading outside into the backyard, your balance was becoming unstable from the alcohol in your system. You were taking shots of Hennessy back to back and it caught up to you faster than you could blink. You sat down on one of the lawn chairs since your head was starting to feel really heavy. You felt a sudden tap behind your shoulder and hear a voice that even when you’re drunk, you can sense with disdain.

“Well, well, well if it isn’t little miss ‘i’d never show up to one of your dumb ass parties!’” Jungkook teases while coming from behind you.

“Get the hell away from me!” You lean away from him to leave you alone but he only came closer.

“This is my house so I don’t need to go anywhere, if anything I think I should kick you out for being so mean to me.” His face inched towards yours further, putting you in an uncomfortable position.

You don’t know why your body felt paralyzed though, it was probably just from all the alcohol inebriating your mind.

“You know, I never understood why you actually hate me. I never hurt you did I?” He says, slightly cocking his head to the side.

His tattooed hand landed on your knee, just planting it there while keeping strong eye contact. You couldn’t speak for some reason, it was as if an enormous lump has formed and got caught inside your throat. He looks down at the skirt you’re wearing and bites his lip, playing with his lip ring.

“Why aren’t you talking? You usually have a lot to say to me, why so quiet now sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?” He continues speaking in that condescending tone of his and you’ve had enough now.

“I fucking hate your guts Jungkook, I absolutely despise you. You’re a cocky, perverted fuckboy that needs to be humbled and finally put in your place!” You snap back at him while pushing his hand away.

“Woah girl chill out, that was a bit harsh don’t ya think? Also, I’d love for you to put me in my place any day.” Yet again, he never fails to make a sexually charged comment.

“You’re disgusting, seriously get help!” You attempt to get up from the lawn chair but he pushes you back down.

“You know, I’ve always liked my girls a little feisty. I find it hot when girls yell at me.”

Either this man has a humiliation kink or is just plain stupid— either way you don’t want to be anywhere near him but he wouldn’t let you leave.

“Please just go away Jungkook, I don’t want you in my sight anymore.”

“Really? Because if that were true then you would’ve been left already,” his hand went to stroke the side of your hair “seems like you really don’t want me to leave.”

His other hand went back to your knee again but slowly trails up to your thigh and goes under your skirt this time. You were surprised within yourself that you were even letting this happen. He leans in to your face, being just a few inches away from his lips. You became almost in a trance by those pink, pillowy lips. You don’t know what came over you but you grab his face and messily kiss him. The movement of your lips colliding and syncing together as he deepened the kiss. He sensually touches your thigh while you moan into the kiss and he squeezes your thigh tightly in response. Looking around to see all the people still here when you pull away from him; you can’t fathom you just made out with Jungkook in front of all these goddamn people. You just lost all respect for yourself.

“You know I’ve always secretly had a crush on you y/n?” Jungkook admits, “I kinda like it when girls are mean to me. Or maybe I just like it when you’re mean, I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Let me show you how mean I can get then.” You reply, staring up at him with hungry eyes.

That cheesy grin never leaving his face as he hears you speak. The tension only grew thicker and he wasn’t about to waste another second.

“Sit on my lap.” He uses his hands to maneuver you and leans back in the chair.

You drunkenly stumble on top of him, feeling him against you. Your body heat raised through the roof but this time you were sure it wasn’t because of the liquor. You straddle his lap as you go back to hastily making out. His wandering hands kept slipping down to your ass to squeeze it and you were starting to feel dizzy from the way he was kissing you. You feel his touch under your skirt to play with you some more, not caring if anyone’s looking at this point.

“I don’t think we should be doing this.. not here at least. Too many people.” You say when pulling away from his lips.

“I really don’t give a fuck, it’s my party let them watch. Let’s put on a good show for everyone, yeah?”

You know this goes beyond against every moral you’ve had before. You’re about to do the one thing you told yourself that you’d never do.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Agreeing to go along with his narrative.

He lets you in charge now, letting you have full control over the way you get to ride him. You push your panties to the side and he undoes his pants to free his fully hard member. You didn’t realize how much of a nice cock he has, it was well groomed and had the perfect size/width.

“You have a really pretty dick, must I say.” You still can’t believe these words are being said to Jungkook.

“Thanks baby, I can’t wait for it to be in that pretty little pussy of yours.”

He drags two of his fingers down to your core and swipes in a circular motion, smearing the wet slick as he watches your mouth open wide with pleasure. His digits sink into your cunt harshly, pushing them deeper and deeper.

“Fuck! Your fingers feel too good…” you hid your face in his shoulder as he splits you open.

Your eyes hung low and your mind was hazy. Unable to think straight, you just wanted to feel Jungkook inside of you already.

“Need to fuck you nowww!” You yell, almost sounding a bit whiny.

“So do it then cutie. Come fuck yourself on my cock.”

He withdraws his digits out of you and licks the juices off them one by one. His grin would only get wider as you lowered yourself on his cock. You were so soaking wet you sunk down on him easily while resting your hands around his shoulders to brace yourself a bit before moving. Once you regain focus you slide up and down on his shaft nice and slow; making him bite his lip, moan, and curse under his breath.

“Your pussy feels so good… so tight… fuck..” his mind was going blank as you pick up a steady pace.

You were so out of it by now that you were bouncing on his cock in a frenzy. He roughly thrusted his hips back into you while you sloppily rode him. The way he filled you up felt like you were in heaven. You open your eyes for a second, forgetting that you were at a party. Almost everyone was looking at you, some people even took out their phones to record the scene in front of them. It was probably all the alcohol you drank but you didn’t even care anymore, you continued savagely riding him. You’re moaning louder as you slam down into him harder, pulling his body closer to yours. He loudly grunts from your walls aching around him, his cock was throbbing so intensely he felt himself wanting to burst already.

People were beyond shocked to see this happening, it was a wild party but they weren’t expecting all this. You try not to pay attention to everyone and focus on Jungkook so you can make yourself cum. Then out of nowhere, he spontaneously lifts you up while you’re still on his cock. Engulfing those large hands on your ass cheeks to keep you balanced and thrusts into you deep while he’s standing up. You had your arms wrapped tightly around him, you weren’t too scared of falling since he had a strong grip on you. You were taking his cock with each harsh stroke he gave, screaming out his name over and over so the whole party could hear it.

“Fuck yes Jungkook! Keep fucking me just like that, you’re so good!!” You could feel yourself coming close and so does Jungkook. Wet strands of sticky hair cling to his face from all the work he’s putting in, his eyebrows furrowed to concentrate solely on making you cum.

“Gonna cum on this cock for me baby? I feel you getter tighter ‘round me.”

“Yess, wanna cum on your cock so bad please!”

He was hitting all the spots in you just right, the slight curve of his shaft fit so perfectly in your core. Your mouth was back to being jaw locked again, feeling the heat wave of your orgasm coming through. It hit even harder when you were drunk, you felt like you were going to fall out of his arms but he noticed you slipping and pulls you up into a firmer grasp. While shutting your eyes you feel your release take over, cursing and moaning his name repeatedly like a broken record.

“I’m ‘bout to cum ….” He pulls out of you and sets you back on the lawn chair, “look up and open wide for me.”

You open your mouth eagerly for him, he gives his cock a few pumps before releasing his white creamy load into your mouth. You swallow every drop of his cum and stick your tongue out for him to show your empty mouth. He smiles at the pretty sight of you and goes in to kiss you once again.

“This is fucking insane!” One of the random people at the party says.

You recognize the person since they’ve been watching you from the start. To say that you and Jungkook left everyone at that party speechless was an understatement.

“You know people were taking videos of us right?” Jungkook says cautiously.

“Yeah… it’s probably going to end up all over social media now, if it hasn’t already. Oh well, like I care!” You shrug nonchalantly.

Oh you’ll definitely care when you sober up.

“Let’s get outta here?” Jungkook zips his pants back up and takes his hand out for you to grab.

You hold onto him and balance your wobbly legs to stand up. You were both severely drunk but he held his liquor way better than you did. For the rest of the night, the party continued and you ended up finding your friends. They soon found out about you were doing and how you fucked Jungkook in front of everyone there, they were all completely taken aback. You went from hating his guts to him destroying yours— guess that’s one way you can end a burning hatred for someone.

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook x female reader #jungkook drabbles #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine

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onlyswan · 5 months

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summary: in which jungkook loves to see you smile and you are the god of mischief.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff / word count: 2.6k

content/warnings: mention of childhood insecurity, mention of biting during s*x, jk is very touchy, they watch a movie and the guard thinks they’re doing sumn nasty bc they’re both a menace honestly 😭, jk accidentally bites his lower lip and bleeds

> in which masterlist!

note: hi !! this is a repost of a drabble i wrote two (?) years ago but accidentally deleted lololol so if you’ve read it before that’s why! but this is now an edited version with a new title <3

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“baby,”

jungkook calls your attention out of nowhere, pausing the movie playing on the tablet you’re holding. the frown painted on his face is difficult to miss.

“i have a question.”

“so randomly?” you raise an eyebrow. “ask me then.”

“why do you cover your face when you’re happy?”

the wide-eyed look of genuine curiosity on his face is identical to yesterday’s, when he asked you what the word ineffable meant after hearing it in a song.

the question prompts you to take a glance at the screen, where a sophisticated woman has a hand over her mouth as she giggles with her elite acquaintances about an old but classic rich husband joke.

“it’s not that it bothers me, i just- i’ve noticed it lately and i-i wish to see you smiling and laughing more freely, you know?” he tries his best to choose his words carefully, offering you a kind smile as he lovingly caresses your head. “it makes me happy when i see you happy.”

“oh,” you blink at him, mind going blank as you attempt to form an answer in your head. his touch isn’t exactly helping you either— you just want to melt into him and not think of anything at all, float on cloud-nine and stay there forever.

however, seeing as he asked you the question out of the blue, he must’ve been thinking about it a lot. you’ve only been dating for a few months, so it’s understandable for him to eagerly seek the answers to his curiosities and observations. if anything, it feels nice to learn he gives this much attention to you— possibly notices things you don’t even know about yourself. for a split second the thought crosses your mind, that beyond a consciousness, you are tangible and real.

“it’s a habit i guess? when my teeth were falling out for the first time as a kid, i became insecure, so i decided that i’d just smile without showing my teeth from then on. like this.”

you demonstrate by lifting up the corners of your lips.

“and yeah-”

as if he’s helplessly pulled by the magnet of attraction, he leans down to kiss you and interrupt your sentence.

“i’d cover my face when i couldn’t contain my smile or laugh. and even when they grew back, it felt weird. like my smile didn’t belong to my face? if that even makes sense.”

“yah, that’s not true! you’re very pretty whether you’re smiling, or crying and-” his warm hand cups your cheek, and he stupidly grins as he’s about to say something cheesy. “even when you’re just breathing.”

the corners of your lips rise again. this time, it’s genuine.

“oh? how romantic.” you scrunch your nose cutely, and his heart flutters.

you hold onto his wrist, revelling in the way his thumb softly traces shapes on your skin.

“i’m over that, though. it was so long ago. i don’t think about it obsessively anymore at least. it’s really just a habit i haven’t gotten rid of.” you reassure him, meaning every word that you say.

we all have our secrets and fears that we keep only to ourselves, that much is understood between the two of you. there are circumstances in which withholding information is necessary. however, the one big promise you made to each other is to never lie. honesty and trust. ease and consolation. every word, every syllable hanging from your lips an addition to the naked history of your love. passed down stories. confessions. blurry memories. shutter sounds. curses. laughter. song dedications. that much is true.

“why are you looking at me like that?” you bite the inside of your cheek to conceal a smile, beguiled by his love drunk eyes seemingly stunned by your mere presence beside him.

“like what, baby?”

you shy away from his gaze. “like you’re either thinking that i hang the stars on the sky every night… or that you want to eat me alive.”

to confirm your words true, he takes your hand and sinks his teeth on the flesh of your palm where your thumb is connected. his wide doe eyes peer at you innocently, sparkling like of a little kid eating the fluffy pancakes he’s been craving since last night.

the latter might sound like a joke to others, but jungkook does eat you alive. almost. basically. you’re not even shocked at the act anymore. soon enough, you’ll memorize the mark of his teeth carving their mark on your skin, both in sexual and non-sexual setting.

“babe,” you send him a bewildered stare. “i really don’t think i taste as good as you make me out to be.”

he parts away with his eyebrows knitted in disagreement. “not true. you’re yummy.”

“oh, shut up!” you burst into a fit of giggles. your hands automatically attempts to fly to your face, but he has your wrists bound with his secure grip. you don’t resist. you only laugh harder when your sight lands on your hands tangled together.

“there’s ____’s beautiful smile.” he coos, proceeding to pepper your face with appreciative kisses.

and you fold. your back lands on the soft mattress, and your belly starts aching from laughter when he purposely blows on the spot on your neck where you’re most ticklish. hot tears gather at the corner of your eyes, and jungkook watches them fall down your temples as his lips graze your skin and your body shakes underneath him.

tears of joy and pleasure are the only tears you’re going to shed, he promises himself. you’re going to smile and make flowers bloom everyday, he promises you and the earth.

—

your teeth chattering from the cold is a shy away from your awkward smile, he notices the endearing resemblance as you shiver beside him.

“hmm, what did i tell you about cinema one?” he teasingly asks as he draws back the armrest that serves as a divider between the two of you.

“that it’s fucking cold in there-” you surrender, tone sounding annoyed. “here. whatever!”

“and who still decided to wear their smallest pieces of clothing?” he continues to taunt you while he pulls you into his body’s natural warmth.

you sigh, whether it’s in relief or annoyance, you’re not quite sure.

“i just wanted to wear my new cute clothes.” you whisper-shout.

the giant screen is still playing trailers of the upcoming movies this year, and you’re already mentally updating your calendar to accommodate them despite your hectic schedule. a two-hour vacation, you would always describe films.

he chuckles, and more shivers run down your spine at the deep and raspy sound being so close to your ear. “you do look cute today, baby.”

he catches the cloth of your skirt between his fingers, and somehow, he ends up squeezing the soft flesh of your thigh. you swallow thickly, unconsciously closing your thighs together and trapping his hand in between them.

“thank you, handsome.” you grip his wrist to move it away. you tut. “no silly business, though. i really want to watch this movie.”

his shoulders drop dramatically in disappointment. “okay… want to sit on my lap so i can keep you warm then?”

you look behind you to see that there’s no people sitting on your side, so no one’s view would get blocked if you were to agree to his proposition. the room is practically empty, with a few scattered people sitting on the sides.

you spend the first fifteen minutes of the movie in comfort and bliss, with your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you. he took off his jacket earlier, and he splayed it over your lap as to not neglect the goosebumps rising all over your freezing legs.

“so stubborn,” jungkook muttered under his breath while he was taking off the jacket, an amused smile etched on his lips. you would’ve felt bad, but you knew he likes doing these things for you, so you only playfully stuck your tongue out at him.

look, to be fair, it is your first time in this cinema. you’ve been on many dates at this theater with jungkook, but for some reason, you’ve never watched a movie in cinema one until tonight. it’s cold in the other three cinemas as well, the kind of cold you’ve gotten comfortable with, so when jungkook booked the tickets last night and told you ‘it’s really cold in there, wear something warmer,’ you thought he was just being ridiculous.

hah, how cold could it possibly be? right?

fine, jungkook is right. you are stubborn.

and you prove it once more when a flashlight shines over your face. the security guard holding it approaches your seat- wait, no, jungkook’s seat. jungkook is your seat. what?!

“i’m sorry, but only one person can sit on the chair. please comply.”

you trace the direction of her eyes to find jungkook’s hands tucked underneath the jacket on your lap, resting on your inner thighs to steal their warmth. you send him a sharp glare, but it doesn’t affect him one bit. he only shrugs, obviously hiding a smirk as he pretends to be the most innocent person in the room.

you pull up the armrest next to you with a pout, slipping back into your original seat against your wishes.

“he was just warming up his hands. i promise!” you whisper not so subtly to the guard.

she only clears her throat and awkwardly nods in response, walking up the stairs to observe the rest of the movie watchers.

you bury your face in your hands as your body vibrates with mirth mixed with humiliation, and jungkook’s jaw nearly falls on the floor.

“sometimes i can’t believe you’re real. how do you never get shy?”

“i was just clearing things up!” you whine, hitting his arm using the side of a closed fist, which he massages with a squeaked ‘ouch.’ “you’re the one who put me in a compromising situation!”

“well, nobody told me taking care of my girlfriend was a crime!”

you carry on with watching the movie after that embarrassing scene, and you’ve forgotten that you’re cold until you’re uncontrollably shivering again. you begin rubbing your arms in a pathetic attempt to get rid of the goosebumps, but you eventually abandon all hope.

you sadly look over at your boyfriend to plead for help once more, but he has gotten too engrossed with the film to feel a pair of shaking pupils beseech him intensely. he finally opened the box of popcorn he’s been saving for the climax.

and he was the one who wanted to do something other than watch the movie.

you grimace.

you are no stranger to his confusing attention span.

after carefully studying the room to ensure the guard is no longer in sight, you unceremoniously climb on jungkook’s lap again. your actions cause some pieces of popcorn to fall from the box, and he scrambles to stuff them all in his mouth before the powder stains any of your clothes. yours are new, after all.

his face displays a puzzled expression, screaming i thought this was supposed to be a compromising situation?! and his soft rosy cheeks on the other hand-

“you look like a chipmunk who got caught in the headlights stealing food with its mouth full.”

the screen flashes a frame of the clear, blue sky in the aftermath of a ferocious storm. it sends the fleeting sunlight to shine on your face— just long enough for him to capture the image of how pretty you are when you giggle, and most of all, how your hand moves to cover your face, but drops on his arm before it could reach its intended destination.

he recognizes it as a conscious effort, and he feels a tug in his heart. his sweet, precious lover. you will never do anything wrong in his eyes, he thinks to himself as he hugs you closer for a kiss. the feeling of your smile against his lips might just be one of his most favorite things in the world.

he pulls away with a toothy grin to match yours, offering you the box of popcorn. the beautiful smile you claimed to not belong on your face lingers as you turn it down and sip on the lemonade instead. and then it simmers down to your usual mellow smile, to a deep frown, until your lips quiver as the resolution of the film reduces you into a puddle of tears.

jungkook likes to keep mental notes about you.

an excerpt from today:

1. how to make ____ smile? act cute.!! :)

2. how to make ____ cry? watch a son and mother reunite after eighteen long years.

p.s. i think i cried harder, but quieter ????

3. how to make ____ angry mad furious? kill off the said mother unnecessarily at the end of the movie for the sake of shu shock value.

the lights turn on all at the same time as the credits start rolling down on the plain black screen. your body slumps back on your boyfriend, drained by the series of overwhelming events that transpired in the past two hours. he waves his hand infront of your face, but your eyes remain unfocused and unblinking.

“this is the worst movie i have ever seen in my life. four out of five stars.”

he snorts at your unseriousness. “that is the most stars you’ve given this month. and it’s the 29th.”

“see? it’s the worst! i’m going to have nightmares!” you cry out with an exaggerated shudder, grabbing his forearms to envelope yourself in his embrace.

“honestly, pushing her off the cliff was a bit too mu-” his sentence gets rudely cut off when your shoulder accidentally hits his chin. you scrambled to go back to your seat, and this escalated to him accidentally biting the inside of his lower lip. the unusual mix of the bitter and salty taste of metal permeates his tongue as an unexplainable expression spreads across his face.

on the other hand, you’re too preoccupied with mischievously smiling at the guard standing down on the floor. she measures you up with a displeased look worse than earlier’s, but much to your relief, she proceeds to walk out after scanning the room one last time.

“baby!” jungkook yells in pain to grab your attention, jutting out his bottom lip to show you the wound that you inflicted.

“oh my god- shit, shit, shit-” you curse, digging your hand in your bag in search of your handkerchief. “i’m so sorry!”

you press the cloth on the bleeding, profusely apologizing to him with a wince. “i panicked! i’m sorry, i’m sorry!”

he pushes your wrist away for a moment, doe eyes squinting at you accusingly. “you just wanted to play around with her, didn’t you?”

you chew on your bottom lip, the sight of blood that has stained the handkerchief sends a pang of guilt across your chest. “sorry… her face- she was just so funny.”

“fuck, why are you like this?!” he throws his head back with a bright laugher that echoes throughout the theater. “ah, you’re so adorable!”

“come back here!” you scold him, holding his face in your hands to crane it back down.

he juts out his bottom lip again, but his body continues to vibrate with lighthearted chortles.

“does it hurt?”

“it hurts…! i think i might seriously cry!” he answers despite his high tolerance for pain, distorting the truth so that he could drown himself in the gratifying feeling of being doted on by you.

he writes another mental note as you inspect his wound, repetitive bloopers playing in the background of the love bubble the two of you share.

4. ____ likes playing games with strangers. must protect with my life.

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taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

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#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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churipu · 4 months

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JJK MEN & THEIR SLEEPYHEAD GF !

featuring. toji fushiguro, yuuta okkotsu, choso x fem! reader

warnings. absolutely nothing

note. anon, first of all, again, i'm so sorry i accidentally put your post up in the queue list when it was unfinished and the pen symbol wasn't there so i screenshotted this before deleting the og post. i hope this post comes to find you by itself :(( second of all, thank you for liking the first part, means a lot to me <33 last of all, hope you enjoy this one!

TOJI FUSHIGURO. i feel like he's the kind of person who doesn't mind having a sleepyhead gf, in fact he'll gladly sleep with her no matter what time or place. he'll just look and then you're asleep, all of a sudden he's asleep too.

people find it odd how you and him are able to just doze off anywhere, especially toji being a pretty "busy" man. would ditch his work sometimes just to have a nap with you, and i feel like he's the type of guy who would use you like a bolster when you both sleep. so you just lie there, arms by your side — while he on the other hand, is all up on you, holding you close to him.

sometimes toji would chuckle upon seeing you asleep at the most random time and places, in a diner, in a fast food restaurant, in the park standing up (and you woke up because apparently a kid bumped into your leg), just anywhere. he finds your sleepy habit quite interesting really.

"toji... 'm tired."

"when're you not, hm?"

he absolutely loves it when you just clung onto him like a koala for a nap, makes him feel proud (oh and i feel like he's the type of person who would take pictures if you sleep with your mouth open with a string of drool coming out of your mouth, he says that it's adorable. you don't think so though).

YUUTA OKKOTSU. yuuta is just so adorable. i feel like he gushes out a lot when you fall asleep on him, like he will silently fawn over you but at the same time he doesn't know what to do. should he let you be? wake you up so you could sleep in a more comfortable place? or carry you to the said comfortable place?

he just ends up waking you up because of how fidgety he is, "yuuta?"

"i'm so sorry, did i wake you up? sorry.."

honestly, you don't even care about the whole wake up thing. you just wanted to sleep so you always end up latching onto his side like a baby, "five more minutes."

it's never five minutes, longest is twelve hours. although yuuta doesn't mind — he even joins you for a bit, and if he has to go, he will make sure you're tucked in well and comfortable with a pillow fort he built just for you incase something (the monsters comes for you) happens.

CHOSO. i feel like he gets confused at first to why you're always falling asleep near him, he even asked this "Google" to that — and Google did not in fact help, but instead drove him into a state of panic because it told choso that you were dying. so when you fall asleep the next time, choso wakes you up almost immediately.

"don't die on me."

you didn't know what he was talking about and assumed that he was just messing around so you closed your eyes, and he had a full blown breakdown because he thought you were actually dying.

but when you told him it's because you feel safe to sleep near him, he's never been so much happier. and whenever you fall asleep, he always has a blanket ready for you both. so here's how it goes, you fall asleep and lean your head on his shoulder, he drapes the blanket over the both of you, he leans his head onto your head and falls asleep.

you both always end up in such an uncomfortable position after (either with your hand or foot in his face, or vice versa), but you guys never cared, at least the sleep was good.

"cho, get your foot out of my face before i bite them off clean."

"'m sorry, it just happens."

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #fluff #toji fluff #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jjk toji #choso #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso kamo #female reader

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imthesilliestspider · 3 months

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sunshine twins fuck hard♱.

warnings : mild spanking, rough sex kinda, fingering, some name calling !

a/n : i night starts writing again.. but i’m definitely reposting the rest of my work i previously deleted!! enjoy!

everyone always thought that jisung and lix would be so sweet in bed, cherishing you, treating you so gently like you were made of glass. now, on the outside, totally, in public they were so sweet with you. always giving you the princess treatment you deserved.

but on the inside? oh they could not be more wrong. they were evil. they played the innocent act so well, even you were shocked when you got them into bed. you assumed you’d be the one in control the whole time, using them how you wanted to. but oh you were wrong.

so when you three were in bed, you were getting them all riled up, because again, you assumed you’d be the one in charge of them. so it was easy to say when they both practically pounced on you, grabbing at you and tugging your clothes off quickly, that you were stunned.

‘what’s wrong baby? didn’t expect this?’ felix whispered in your ear, as jisung worked on getting your clothes off. the way you looked up at him with wide eyes had him smiling innocently, like they weren’t in this situation.

‘i-i though—..’ you started, but got cut off by jisung ‘you thought you’d be in charge? awh..’ he snickered, you were now basically naked and so was jisung, felix pulled away from you to take his clothes off aswell. as he was doing that, jisung took it upon himself to kiss you and move his hand down to your slit, inserting two fingers in you, stretching you out for them.

you mewled into the kiss, trying to move into his touch more to distract yourself from the stretch of his fingers. soon after you’d adjusted to the second finger, a third was being slipped into your cunt. the squeal you let out was muffled by his mouth. you felt felix’s hands trail to your tits and gently squeezing at them as jisung played with you.

felix soon pulled you onto his lap, jisung pouting momentarily at being pulled away from you. felix pulled you up by your hips, your hands falling down infront of you to help you not fall into the sheets. you felt his cock gently thrusting against your cunt, getting it wet with your slick.

‘felix hurry up..’ you can’t help the whine that leaves you, feeling the tip of his cock catch and drag on your clit was driving you insane. you barely miss jisungs snicker. felix hears you, pushing his cock inch by inch into your cunt. you held onto jisungs waist as felix sets his pace, quick.

your body writhed, legs trying their hardest to hold you up as felix wrecked your poor pussy. jisung let you hold onto him, gently petting your head as you pushed your face into his stomach.

‘feel good little girl?’ felix grunted, his hands holding your hips to give you extra support to hold you up. your meek little nod make him giggle, his hips snapping against your own. occasional smacks hitting your ass

‘felix hurry up i want my turn!’ jisung interrupted, reaching his hand under you to pinch and toy with your clit. felix sighed, picking his pace up more, adjusting his position a little to hit your sweetspot better.

‘both of you are fucking sluts.’ felix gritted his teeth, a small snicker leaving him as he smacks your ass again, loving the yelps that left you. you felt your stomach tightening from felix’s rough touches and jisung pinching and flicking your engorged clit.

jisung laughed at how loud you were getting, and also at felix’s mean words. he kept rubbing your clit till the arch in your back bends much more and he feels you cum around felix’s cock. felix follows quick after, moaning loudly.

a small whine leaves you as felix pulls out, your lower body falling onto the bed. jisung happily gets up, swapping places with felix. jisung has a smile on his face as he flips you onto your back, prying your thighs open quickly. ‘hi baby.’ he smirks at you, letting felix settle behind you, your head laying onto his chest. your weak little smile makes jisungs widen.

he pushes his cock into your cunt, wasting no time to start thrusting into you, one of his hands holding your thigh up, the other flicking your clit with his thumb. the way your thighs shudder makes him and felix both grin.

‘getting tired?’ felix whispers in your ear, his head on your shoulder, hands tweaking at your nipples. a little ‘m-mhm..’ leaves you and jisung can’t help but giggle, speeding up his thrusts. his thighs smack the back of yours with force.

your thighs can’t help but squeeze shut, a bit overstimulated. jisung sighs, grabbing your legs and tossing them over his shoulder. he goes even faster, smiling at how you look, dumbed out from both of their cocks.

felix squeezes his hands through your thighs, tweaking at your clit. you feel the coil in your stomach tightening more. your whines get louder and louder as you grasp at felix’s wrist.

‘a-ah.. please.. please..’ you whine quietly, back arching away from felix’s chest and stomach. jisung smiles, rubbing his hands up and down your thigh before smacking it hard, clearly trying to push you over the edge.

‘cum for us baby, cmon.’ felix smiles, rubbing your clit more. you finally cum again, your body writhing away from felix and jisung, twisting as little sobs leave you. your body calming down like thirty seconds after, your vision going hazy and dark.

you wake up almost 20 minutes later, in a clean set of pajamas, all cleaned up and buried in cozy blankets. and jisung and felix by your sides, felix looking at you worrily and jisung putting a movie on.

‘h-how long was i out?’ you look at felix’s now relaxed face.

‘20 minutes love.’ he smiles, kissing your head.

you were definitely gonna do that again.

#stray kids smut #skz #skz smut #stray kids #skz imagines #skz x reader #straykids x reader #felix #lee felix #skz felix #straykids felix #felix smut #lee felix smut #han jisung #skz jisung #jisung x reader #jisung smut #han jisung smut

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strawberryspence · 1 year

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Because I am obsessed with the famous trope here’s another one that kept me up all night.

Steve and Eddie dated right after Vecna in ‘86 and it’s perfect. They date each other and it’s like two puzzles clicking together. But they’re young, foolish and they both have mountains of trauma. And sometimes, the passion and love, just isn’t enough to keep a relationship going.

They have a messy break up that has Eddie packing all his stuff up in ‘88. Eddie goes to LA or New York, either way that’s where he gets discovered. He then goes on to write some very angsty and angry rock/metal music about the break-up that gets him up on the map.

Steve hates it. He hates it with every fibre of his soul because it’s one thing when you and you ex still have the same friends and have to be civil with each other, but it’s a whole other thing when you open the radio and this man you dated, this man you loved and cared for and failed is just out here singing it for the whole world to hear.

And yeah listen, it’s petty and dumb. But Steve writes his own fucking songs, it’s not the direct response to Eddie’s song but it’s close. By that time it’s already ‘90 and Eddie’s made a whole name and career out of their relationship. Steve writes the songs, he sings, and he sends the damn demo to almost fifty different companies. And he gets picked up by one company.

Steve takes the pop star route, and with his looks and his somehow amazing vocals, by ‘94 Steve’s on the charts with Whitney and Mariah. The whole Party has solemnly promised to not get involved with their petty songwriting fighting anymore. They also haven’t spoken in person in almost six years, and the only way they communicate now is through the freaking songs.

There’s not a lot of overlap with the rock and pop community, and no one notices it until ‘05. It’s one fan that makes this one blog post talking about this weird freaky coincidence in Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson’s songs. It becomes a whole thing, like someone from Hawkins pulls out the yearbooks and finds out that they could’ve known each other. Their faces are splashed together into every magazine and celebrity entertainment shows.

They don’t say anything about it. No one comments about it for a few years and it infuriates the public even more. The next time Steve comes out with a song, Eddie comes out with another song a few months after and it’s once again a literal conversation about their relationship.

The whole thing continues until ‘11 and by then there’s blog dedicated for all the clues. It’s now a long running thread, and it gets updated when there’s another clue to this massive confusing puzzle. There’s a whole subsection with names of every Party member and how they connect the two artists together. There’s freaking flow charts and pictures and family trees.

It only ends when Eddie finally posts two pictures on Twitter. The first one is taken backstage. All you can see is Steve’s back, but you will know it’s him because of his hair. He’s standing at the side of the stage, and on the stage is Eddie Munson singing. The second one is a picture of Eddie sitting in a couch as Steve looms over him, hands crossed on his chest. Eddie’s signing his own album with a smirk, while Steve glares at him. If you zoom, you can see the sign on the album saying, “To Steve. This album is for you.”

The caption says: “Me and my biggest fan. Circa 2004.”

Steve replies to the original post saying: “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Eddie deletes the post and reposts it with: “Me and my wonderful, gorgeous, talented husband. I can’t believe I am married to THE Steve Harrington.”

It’s the first time the term “break the internet” is ever used.

Turns out, they were just writing the songs to spite each other and to add fuel to the fandom fire. (In an interview, Eddie says, “It’s our foreplay.” and Steve doesn’t talk to him for a solid 30 minutes for running his mouth. It only lasts for 30 minutes because Eddie made it up to him by using his mouth for something else.)

#HA #i love famous steddie #theyre so petty #also dont come for me #i dont know where the ‘break the internet’ term came from #so dont get mad #anw #i love them #steddie #daeheadcanons #steve harrington x eddie munson angst #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie headcanon #steddie hc #famous steve harrington #famous eddie munson

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arieslost · 8 days

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pole! | ln4

summary: user arieslost got so excited about a lando pole that she wrote a blurb about it

word count: 774

masterlist — join my tag list here!

a wet track is no one’s dream, really.

it certainly isn’t yours, especially because you’re one of mclaren’s many supporters concerned about the layout of the shanghai circuit. the long turns and endless straights had you chewing your nails just looking at a picture of it, much less actually being there in the garage watching your boyfriend and his teammate during free practice 1— the only time they had to acclimate to the circuit before sprint qualifying.

as if that in itself wasn’t stressful enough, it starts raining during the qualifying session.

you know lando is good in the rain, really good even, but that knowledge doesn’t stop your heart from beating faster when it’s properly raining, everyone is slipping and sliding on the track, and lap times are being deleted left and right. which is why you have to restrain yourself from immediately celebrating when lando goes to the top of the time sheet, nearly 1.3 seconds clear of lewis hamilton, and gets on provisional pole.

“come on, come on,” you mutter to yourself, thumbnail between your teeth as you keep your eyes glued to the screen.

and, sure enough, his lap time is deleted for exceeding track limits at the final corner. you watch, crestfallen, as his name goes from first to the bottom. at any rate, you’re happy that someone other than red bull is on pole, but even seeing lando on the front row was exhilarating.

the time runs out on the session. you’re in the middle of letting out a long sigh, mentally preparing to comfort your boyfriend, who you’re sure is kicking himself already, when you happen to glance back at the tv at the exact moment his name shoots back up to p1.

“yeah baby!” you hear lando say over the radio in response to being told he’s officially on pole. “beautiful. simply beautiful.”

the rest of your sigh leaves your mouth, but instead of disappointment it’s complete and utter relief, a giddy laugh following right after. you’re always excited to see lando after he’s been in the car, but now you’re really excited.

you wait as patiently as you can while he talks to the media, and the moment his eyes meet yours you can tell that he’s having just as much trouble keeping his true excitement at bay.

you meet him halfway when he makes a beeline for the garage, letting out a quiet oof when his arms go around your waist and your feet leave the ground.

“fucking pole! holy shit, babe,” you laugh breathlessly in his ear when he sets you down and hugs you tight. “you scared me so bad.”

“you’re not the only one,” he replies, subtly kissing your temple before pulling you into the garage, away from the three cameras that have swiftly turned to face you both.

“p-freakin-one,” he says as soon as you’re both in the quiet safety of his drivers room.

“how does it feel?” you ask, taking a seat on the bed.

he leans against the closed door for a moment, a dreamlike smile on his face. “amazing. it always feels amazing.” he pauses. “almost forgot what it felt like, honestly.”

you hum. “hopefully it’s the first of many this season, hmm? i think you’ll win.”

“of course you do, baby.” he laughs, joining you on the bed.

“i’m serious!” you huff, bumping his shoulder with yours. “as long as it rains again. otherwise you’re cooked.”

lando’s jaw drops, and you press your lips together to poorly conceal a smirk. “all you ever do is hurt me,” he says dramatically, turning away from you.

“oh, come on,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his middle and resting your chin on his shoulder. “you and i both know that i have the utmost faith when it comes to you.”

“do you? do you really?” he asks, continuing with his little act.

“look at me,” you coo, turning his chin to face you.

even acting all mad, he still fixes you with such a loving look that you can feel yourself melting a little.

“i. love. you,” you say, punctuating each word with a short kiss on his lips. “and when you win tomorrow, you know exactly what i’ll say.”

“yeah, i know,” he tugs you into him, finally giving up on his act.

and so, when he wins, he’s perfectly in tandem with you when you scream, “i told you!” as he practically jumps across the barrier to get you in his arms.

lando norris. sprint winner. the love of your life, who would have been way less confident in himself if he didn’t have you.

note: i know i said i wasn’t posting this week but as it turns out, i am a liar. something something don’t blame me love made me crazy

my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther

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lintwriting · 24 days

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I'm making this post to compile the Weibo allegations against Jullian Champenois, the voice actor for Kim Kitsuragi, since I found navigating the screenshots to be a bit confusing. I've translated some of them to the best of my ability and would definitely be open to others reviewing these translations for errors, as I am Chinese American and therefore could be missing some cultural context. I've linked to Chinese definition websites to explain some of the translation choices that are more inferences.

The rest of the translations are from 阿阮 @woon__ton on twitter, who has been in contact with the original Weibo poster to ask for permission for their translated reposts, as well as permission for my repost here.

Outline of the Weibo Post

The allegations originated from a post on Weibo by a Chinese artist. The body of the post contains a summary of their experience, and attached are:

Screenshots of their personal Instagram DMs with Jullian

A screenshot of an older post where they express feeling weary about Jullian's DMs

Screenshot of vent messages demonstrating how this experience has affected their work.

After posting, other commenters chimed in with similar experiences, and this caused the original poster to update the original post.

They first updated it with a screenshot showing them blocking Jullian Champenois

Next, a testimony from a commenter

A second testimony from another commenter

Screenshots of DMs from that second commenter

*Update: Additional testimony from the original poster

The Body of the Original Weibo Post

Below will be screenshots of the body of the original Weibo post, with translations from @woon__ton on twitter.

(via 阿阮 @woon__ton on twitter)

This text was later edited to update about the additional testimonies and to add greater context. The added context explains how the Weibo poster could tell that Jullian Champenois's DMs were targeted, unprofessional, and sexual in nature, as the poster had gone through a similar situation before with another creator. The updated context is translated below.

* I realized something was wrong so quickly because I had a similar experience at the end of 2019. Scott lobdell, a DC comic writer and screenwriter of Happy Death Day, came back to like my drawings and privately messaged me after I followed him on Instagram. His account at that time was nuked (chinese internet slang for when accounts get banned or suddenly have all their content taken down) [so I can't access the logs anymore], so I don’t remember the content of the chat, but for specific news discussions, you can google the keyword “Scott Lobdell sex harrasment”. This situation is very common in the industry. They deliberately prey on people from their fan lists.

For context, Scott Lobdell, from what I can tell, would hit on young female artists working at the same cons as him, both in person and in text messages, with implications of him holding his position in the industry over them.

Although the Weibo poster can no longer access the log of Scott's harassment of them because his account got banned/deleted (at least, I think that's what the usage of 'nuke' is saying, they could also be saying that their own account got nuked), they note how their chat with Jullian Champenois was reminiscent of the same conversation they had with Scott Lobdell—a man known and 'retired' for his harassment of young female artists.

Lobdell's harassment is a good example for context due to how he demonstrates the inappropriateness of 'flirting' and hitting on young female artists in professional contexts.

1. Screenshots of their personal DMs with Jullian Champenois

Below are the screenshots of the Instagram DMs the Weibo Poster had with Julllian Champenois. Note the profile picture, as his profile picture will look the same across other screenshots with him in it.

Also note the way the conversation starts out polite, focused on both of their respective arts. Then he shifts the conversation to sexual topics, first by mentioning his explicit song, then by suddenly bringing up an explicit art account, @ken_chk, they were both following. The Weibo poster steers the conversation away from these topics.

They also mention this in the comments, but they find the fact that he asked their age, ethnicity, and sexuality afterwards to also be suspicious/sexual in nature. The sentiment being "Why would the artist's age matter?" or "Why would you fixate on me potentially being 17 years old when I've mentioned college graduation finals?" or "Why would you ask that if not for sexual reasons?"

@woon__ton on twitter notes that he is seemingly consistently looking for college aged girls, and other commenters/victims got the sense that the strange insistent questions about nationality were related to "yellow fever."

2. Weibo Screenshot of an older post where they express feeling weary about Jullian's Dms

The next attached photo was a screenshot of a Weibo post the Weibo poster had made in 2023. I'm assuming that in this screenshot that they're talking about Jullian Champenois, since this whole post is about him.

First I'll be transcribing the translation. Then I'll be clarifying the idioms/translation choices with asterisks, before giving an overall summary of the screenshot.

Feel free to skip to the 2. Summary section, as the translation clarification section is a little long.

“It reminds me a bit of my PTSD, the last time I was praised in private [instagram] DMs it was the Scott Lobdell [situation] where [he] later disappeared from the internet for some reason[.] I don't remember the reasoning, but at the time I had suddenly felt that he was kind of creepy so I indirectly lost my interest on Jason Todd(桶 is the Chinese nickname of Todd/Red Hood, Lobdell was the writer of n52 Redhood comic). It was not a good experience haha..." * "I feel that there is a cultural difference where Chinese people may take getting sent private messages out of nowhere a bit harder. It may also be a me problem. Maybe I am a Sakura girl at heart (internet slang, sakura is the culture symbol of Japan so it’s the nickname of Japanese girl, they tend to be a little bit more shy and social in a more careful and polite way to avoid offending anyone, no negative meaning behind this). uneasy desu ('I am anxious' but using the word desu to stand in for "I am")" "I don't remember the timeline, but it seemed like someone in the industry accused him of sexually harassing young female artists." “As a result, even when I am excited, I am still very wary of people because I have become disillusioned."

*UPDATE: I have updated this post''s translation with clarification from the Weibo poster.

I translated a phrase as "pulled up carrot," but it was actually the transliteration of Scott Lobdell's name into Chinese. I translated a phrase as "climbing the wall" "bucket," but it was actually the Chinese fandom term for 'no longer liking' and the Chinese name for Jason Todd.

In addition, I translated Sakura Girl as (slang based on Japanese animation, meaning a delicately stupid young girl) but the poster has clarified that Sakura girl is not supposed to have a deprecating connotation. The focus is on shyness or politeness, not stupidity!

I will keep my first translations in the next few paragraphs in to maintain transparency and to keep some necessary information, but they are no longer accurate. The paragraphs in brackets can be skipped over.

[[[[[The full idiom goes "the pulled up carrot also pulls up mud," or the idea that investigating a criminal who was arrested first can lead to the exposure of other criminals. The same way pulling a carrot out will pull loose some dirt, exposing one person may also dig up dirt on their associates.

With the mention of "later disappeared from the internet," I think the Weibo poster was referencing Scott Lobdell, whose account was nuked and who also had privately DM'd them with praise/sexual advances. The implication could be that the last time they got DM'd like this, it was in a creepy way and they were too afraid to speak out for fear of getting attacked/exposed themselves. Or that he disappeared to avoid getting exposed. This paragraph is a little unclear.

The 'pulled up carrot' situation might also have something to do with the explicit artist, ken_chk, mentioned in the DMs with Jullian. The weibo poster clarifies in a later edit that they didn't censor @ken_chk's handle in the screenshots because ken_chk was also embroiled in a sexual scandal involving targeting his fans.

"*About why I didn't delete the artist Ken mention in the chat history—because he was the reason why I raised the alarm. One of the reasons is that I read something about his character on Weibo about a few months ago. I just forgot to unfollow him on Instagram. I can’t find any evidence about what he did, but the Internet has testimonies, so I won't write it off." "* Regarding the artist Ken, the matter has been issued with the consent of the person involved. According to the person involved, Ken will also select fans to target. Please see the person’s experience for details"

So another implication could be that Jullian bringing up such a shady person in the DMs unprompted demonstrates his shady associations. Jullian is the 'carrot pulling up the mud' by doing so.

For context, the poster had felt the need to disavow ken_chk by clarifying that they had only been still following ken_chk by accident. Jullian still following him and even bringing him up unprompted could be a bad look in light of the similar allegations of misconduct surrounding both him and ken_chk.

I am unsure though, as I am not very familiar with this idiom, nor am I familiar with the allegations against ken_chk listed here. I could be totally misinterpreting this line of the post and the ken_chk edit, as I've had to infer some pronouns and commas that weren't originally there due to the nature of Chinese grammar.

'Climbing the wall,' in addition to cheating, can seem to mean getting over obstacles in various contexts, like getting over the firewall to pirate stuff. However, I've translated it as 'cheating' as there's the word "bucket" that follows it. Bucket is also a word for 'trash,' so it'd make sense to translate it as 'cheating trash.'

Later another victim who responded in the comments accounted that by sexually harassing them, Jullian Champenois was also potentially cheating on his girlfriend that they knew he had at the time, lending more credence to the idea that wall climbing comment is about Jullian, though I am still unsure.]]]]]

2. Summary Section

I think this post was first made right after Jullian first messaged the Weibo poster with the innocent messages about their art back in October 2023, months before the more recent sexual DMs from him on March 30th, 2024.

Despite the polite nature of these October DMs, the Weibo poster was weary of Jullian's DMs in this first 2023 post, mentioning how in the past they had gotten similar DMs from Scott Lobdell, only for those complimentary DMs to later be revealed as openings for sexual advances. Their 'PTSD,' as they put it.

In addition, they note a potential cultural difference between Chinese netizens and Western/English-speaking ones. It might be a bigger deal in China to get send someone DMs. Maybe it's more intimate/intimidating/professional, in contrast to it potentially being more casual in the West.

With the summary out of the way, I do want to say that some Western netizens have responded to the later DMs with the sentiment of "these are not examples of harassment, just flirting in bad taste," but this could be related to the cultural mismatch the poster mentioned here.

Getting flirted with in the DMs is very normal to a lot of people in the West, as 'sliding into their DMs' is synonymous with flirting, but perhaps in China, either this is not the norm or Jullian's type of flirting is not the norm, especially within the context of a professional art account.

If you find yourself thinking the same way as those western netizens, I'd ask you to reframe Jullian's DMs less as a casual instagram DM, and more like a work slack or LinkedIn message from a colleague/client, as the DMs we have been/will be talking about are in the context of their own work or hiring him for work. This should help you get a better sense of why the victims felt uncomfortable.

3. Screenshot of Weibo poster's vent messages demonstrating how this has affected their work

The next attached photo was a screenshot of vent texts. I'm not sure the context of the texts, but the content is definitely about their regrets with Jullian Champenois.

Why shouldn't I just be frank and rant a little? I want to be so woke (as in another way to say clear-headed, not related to American progressive slang) that you'll see me awake, anaesthesia-free on the operating table when they cut me open[.] Do you get me[?] Well Any way you look at it, I'm miserable On top of all this, I've got a big graduation project that's in comic form. That comic was adapting the poem that is currently acting as my temporary nicotine replacement for my disco elysium withdrawals*** So I would listen to [Jullian Champenois's] songs at the time God, it hurts so much Luckily, my nicotine replacement was for another character (they're probably saying that the poem reminded them of another disco elysium character, not Kim Kitsuragi, hence their relief) For a moment there, I was thinking of to talking to him about my graduation project and about disco elysium.

*** So I'm making the assumption that the original poster is talking about a graduation project that they're working on. Since they're an artist, it's a comic that they're making. They then say something about an original poem. They use the word that means "original" in the context of adaptation, like the original book a movie is based off of. So the full phrase is 'the comic's original poem,' which I'm taking to mean that they're adapting a poem into comic form.

This is relevant because I think they're trying to say that the poem is currently the thing they're obsessing over while waiting for more Disco Elysium content. They use the term "meal replacement," which seems to be a Chinese fandom term referring to the content people look at during a fandom drought—like people hitting the end of all the Disco Elysium content out there and deciding to check out Pathologic, since they've heard that game scratches the same itch.

So I think this screenshot is supposed to be them venting their feelings about how this situation with Jullian made them feel. They want to be clear-headed about his actions, even if it makes them feel miserable. And they note how his actions have tainted their experience working on a Disco Elysium-inspired comic.

1. Screenshot of the Weibo Poster Blocking Jullian Champenois

After talking with other commenters, the Weibo poster posted their closing remarks with Jullian Champenois, especially noting how he used their work and their interest in his work as a pretense for flirting with them instead of genuine artistic interest.

2. Next, testimony from a commenter

(translation via 阿阮 @woon__ton on twitter)

阿阮 @woon__ton also notes that "If anyone questions why I didn't release the screenshots, it's because this fan suffered severe trauma and was unable to provide the original chat log."

3. A second testimony from another commenter

Hello blogger, I also suffered sexual harassment from Jullian at the end of last year. Because my friends know that I like Disco Elysium very much, [they] said [they] could give me an autograph. I was very excited and happy at the time. A few days later, Jullian himself said that he could add me on WeChat, so I could directly tell him what I wanted him to sign. I was so happy and felt very lucky. After that, he was always very polite and took the initiative to chat with me, but within a few days he started to sexually harass me. I can't find the chat records from that time, only one or two that were sent to friends. I was very disillusioned at the time…so I blocked him, but he added me on New Year's Day. After I saw your Weibo, I remembered this incident again. He was really disgusting… I loved Disco Elysium so much, but he ruined it all. Okay, I hope you can share this. He is a habitual criminal and has yellow fever, and likes to chat up Chinese girls. At the same time last year, I searched for his name on Weibo and found that many people who followed him on Instagram were greeted by him. Everyone thought he was very nice, but that‘s not the case. When I first added him, I didn't expect him to talk to me a lot. Because it was such a surprise, I expressed a lot of my love for Disco Elysium and Kim. He asked me if I knew about Kim's sexuality. When I told him that I knew, he emphasized that he was a straight man, and then asked a lot about exchanging private information. After he sexually harassed me, I couldn't even tell him off for it because my friend was_____, I was waiting until he left _____ before I could block him. After I rejected him, he was still interested in striking up another conversation. I said that I knew he had a girlfriend, and it was very strange to do this. He said that his girlfriend didn't care and knew that he was doing it, which 'was its own kind of fun.' Made me feel very sick.

4. DM Screenshots from the Second Commenter

This commenter then submitted DMs that Jullian had sent them. The original poster has shared them, noting that the profile pic is clearly Jullian's.

This commenter also commented that the friends they had mentioned also had similar experiences with Jullian Champenois, which could push the number of victims to 4+.

I'd also like to share a comment on the original Weibo post from this same commenter:

"This incident did not affect my playing of Disco Elysium (the voice will be turned off hhh), but I really felt a huge spiritual pain, like my faith was completely shattered, like the statue of the Innocence in the church turned into a smelly rotten rag."

Additions

In addition, there is a testimony from a third person not attached on the post, which @woon__ton posted on twitter. It can be found here, and it outlines how an anonymous user paid Jullian in a professional context to voice for a product for her, only for him to make an unprofessional advance on her. Although the harassment is not directly shown in the WeChat screenshot, his apology for his inappropriate behavior is shown.

This testifier would like to remain anonymous.

*5 Update: Additional Testimony from the original poster on Weibo

The original poster is emphasizing the predatory nature of Jullian's DMs, differentiating them from the "just awkward flirting" narrative that some Western/English speaking people have had in response to these allegations.

First of all, his "yellow fever" aspect of specifically asking about Chinese girls, who are often fetishized to be more shy/submissive/less likely to talk. But in this case, it's also him specifically being inappropriate with people for whom there is a language/cultural barrier, making it harder for them to speak out—either due to a literal language barrier between them and his Western audience, or the plausible deniability of all this being a 'cultural misunderstanding' (which is very unlikely, since Jullian has apparently lived in China and therefore is very aware of the norms there).

Second of all, his usage of a professional/work account to make sexual advances. Again, comparisons to the Scott Lobdell situation should be made, as they highlight why it's sleazy to use their work as an excuse/opening to make sexual advances on someone. Not only does it cross boundaries, but it's also not treating the artist with the respect they deserve as someone just trying to work.

Closing

The Weibo poster would prefer if people not follow them on Weibo over this situation, as they posted the situation on their work/professional art account, and it is painful for them to see too many notifications about this.

They also note that they still love Disco Elysium and Kim Kitsuragi and that the allegations against Jullian Champenois should not reflect on the dev team of Disco Elysium, as there were also women working on the team, etc.

With this post, I've tried my best to accurately convey the sentiments of the original poster of the Weibo without commenting on the proof or the legality or what the ramifications should be or how we should interpret this, etc (beyond a quick mention of a potential cultural clash). I'll update the post with better translations if something comes up or if anybody mentions any suggestions/clarifications.

#disco elysium #jullian champenois #kim kitsuragi

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smallestapplin · 9 months

Text

For you

Request : really like your stories. I want a request. I want a story for Dracula. If you want, I want him to be possessive like Yandere. I want it to be long, a little long. I hope you continue writing stories.

Another repost from my deleted side blog

🔞18+only! MDNI!🔞

Dracula never thought he’d find love again, much less a third time. After all the tragedy and heartbreak he’s been forced to face, and to go through, he found a place with you.

Just another human.

But your kindness, your compassion made him fall all over again.

How you saw him, a mere stranger who looked troubled, and offered him company.

Your presence was warm, with a smile that outshined the morning sun. How you gazed at him like he was worth more than gold, how you attentively listened to everything he had to say.

Especially so late at night.

Dracula hung onto your every word, taking in everything you had to say to him. Every word you spoke, every question you asked him, had him enthralled with you.

He knew then he had to protect you, to keep you safe from the world.

To protect you from the same fate as those before. He can’t lose you too.

Even after meeting with you, and taking small walks around your little town every night, he can’t bring himself to leave back to his castle.

Not without you in tow, he needed to have you, to protect you, to hold you.

You remain unaware of the second shadow you have, but you do feel eyes on you almost every night. But you happily close your door, not seeing the nearly nine foot tall shadow behind you, with dim glowing red eyes staring at you as he trails silently after you.

Following you around your home.

Mutely cooing at your decor, already making a mental listen of anything that looks important to take with him. Oh! Maybe he will give you your own personal room next to his, just for all your things.

The vampire quietly purrs, watching you get snuggled into bed. You’re too precious, he can’t wait to finally have you in his arms, safe and showered in his love.

You’re oblivious to the man carefully picking up your sleeping form.

You awake with a yawn and a stretch, having felt like you got the best sleep in the world. You rub the sleep from your eyes, yawning once more before looking around, before sitting up, adrenaline rushing through your veins.

Everything in the room was black, red, and gold, looking like you went back in time.

The bed was massive, and incredibly comfortable. The room is dark, with the only source of light coming from a lit set of candles, dimly glowing.

Your breathing picks up, as your eyes dart around trying to find a clear way out.

This wasn’t your room, nor your home.

You needed to get back, and fast, before whoever took you came back. Though your arms are shaking, you slowly move closer to the edge of the bed, only to pause, feeling like you’re being watched.

You can feel your hair standing on end.

Yet, you feel almost….safe? You can’t explain it, you feel as though whatever or whoever is watching you, won’t hurt you.

But although you feel welcomed here, it feels hostile.

You slide off the bed as quietly as you could. Trembling as the coldness of the room washes over you, you are still only dressed in your sleep shirt and shorts, so you aren’t sure if that’s a good sign or not.

You slowly walk towards the door, pausing when the floor creaks under you. You wait to see if anyone comes, yet nothing happens. You let out a mute sigh before continuing, internally cheering once you reached the grand door.

You take a deep breath as you grasp the gold handle, placing your other hand where the door and door frame meet to soften the sounds of it opening. Peeking through the decent gap, you nearly choke.

Before you stand two inhumanly tall knights in gold armor, both their heads looking towards you, causing the bright blue feathering on their helms to move.

Your eyes keep darting between the two, and their monstrous swords. The moment one moved, you jumped back and slammed the door shut.

Your heart is pounding, and your skin becomes tacky with sweat.

Well, there goes sneaking out that way, it could never be easy. They two guards never enter the room, so you suppose it’s safe in here for now. Walking back, you try the windows, seeing if you could open those.

You push, you pull, you push, but the windows never budge, it’s like some invisible force is keeping them shut.

You huff, realizing you’re truly trapped here.

With those knights of whatever they are staying outside your door, you will have to wait until they leave. But you doubt they will ever move.

You jump back, head whipping around towards the door at the sound of three knocks. Your heart drops, only to be left more confused and nervous.

You’re shocked to see the man you’ve been talking to late at night, but a part of you feels like you should’ve seen it coming.

Dracula chuckles at your shocked face.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you, my love.”

You realize he’s holding a bed tray, one that’s filled with food and a nice cold drink for you.

“I apologize if the food isn’t perfect, it’s been centuries since I last cooked anything.”

Your brain is slowly clicking things into place.

Why else would he be nearly nine feet tall, if he wasn’t something supernatural. Your heart stops, now realizing escape would be impossible, unless you had help from another inhuman creature.

You try to think, and fast. It would be best to just play along, until he gives you an opening. You hesitantly sit down on the bed, allowing him to place the tray over your lap.

The food looks amazing, and like he took every precaution while making it just right for you. The bed dips under his weight as he sits next to you, looking at you expectingly.

You stare at the food before you, your adrenaline still going, making you not feel hungry at all.

“Is it not what you’d like?”

You jolt, looking up at him as you have so many times before, yet this time feels different.

“It looks good! Just a little nervous, I guess.”

You try to laugh your nerves away, but the way he’s looking at you only makes it worse. Your laughter gets caught in your throat, watching him drop to the floor, moving to his knees in front of you

Even still, he’s only now at eye level with you.

“Would you prefer me to feed you instead?”

He takes the fork, stabbing some of the food and holding it to your lips. You look between him and the fork before opening your mouth, as you aren’t sure if you should be afraid to disobey.

You hum as your chew the food.

“Wow, that's actually really good.”

Dracula purrs at your priase, as he happily keeps feeding you, taking breaks in between to hold a glass of water to you, helping your drink from it. He seems so happy just to pamper you, you aren’t sure what his intent is, but after all this time you feel like it’s not anything malicious.

He coos at you, joy clear on his face seeing that you’ve cleaned your plate. You watch him pick up the bed tray and make his way to the door.

Maybe, if you can ask him you can get a better lay out of this home of his.

“W-wait!”

He pauses instantly, like you have a hold on him. He turns back to you, black hair swaying with his sharp movements.

“Yes, Dear?”

You feel your words stuck in your throat. Swallowing thickly you finally ask.

“Can…can I go with you? I don’t want to be alone.”

You voice barely a whisper, but he hears you loud and clear.

“Of course you can, but please, stay close.”

The large vampire nearly melts when you get behind him, and hold onto him by his cloak. He knew he made the right choice, you’re perfect for him! By the second he can feel his love deepening.

You truly are too precious.

So trusting.

So bashful.

He finds you so endearing.

The guards you saw earlier, watch you both leave the room, but stay in their places. You take notes as you two walk.

You try to memorize the hallway as best you can.

Until you realize just how long this one hallway is, and how many stairs there are, just how big is this place!?

“This is quite the home you have, how do you not get lost?”

Dracula’s laugh echoes throughout the wide area.

“I’ve lived here for centuries, my sweet. Soon you will learn the layout as well.”

He is sure of it, once you get comfortable he will make you immortal like him, so you can never leave him, and if you are to die, he could revive you easily. Dracula lets out a soft sigh, dreaming of the day you call him your husband, and living a sweet, domestic life with him.

You two fall into silence, from him daydreaming, and you watching all the creatures you two pass. Fear grips your heart at the plethora of other worldly monsters you see, from walking skeletons, to axe wielding knights, to zombies and anything in between or more.

You’ve never seen anything like them, and all of them watch you, or not even bother you.

It’s like you walking with Vlad protected you.

You move closer, pressing yourself against his back, hoping to put as much distance between you and the other monsters.

Dracula snaps from his thoughts, glancing down at you and taking in your visibly uncomfortable expression, how you look as scared of the things around you.

While he knows with time you’ll grow use to them, now is not then, and you need safety and comfort above all else. You don’t see the harsh look he gives the mindless zombie, who’s wandering too close.

Dracula shifts the bed tray to one hand, as to free up the one closest to you, and within an instant the creature flies, slamming to the wall and becoming nothing but a messy pile stuck to it.

You gasp, jumping at the sight, and watching Dracula shake his hand a bit, as if to get off the decomposing skin off his hand.

“There, that’s taken care of. I can assure you I will make sure nothing happens to you.”

You believe him, but that’s what you dread.

By the time you two reach the extravagant kitchen, your adrenaline has disappeared, leaving you tired and exhausted.

So much so, you don’t fight back when he picks you up, jusg simply laying your head against his chest.

You hear no heartbeat, and his skin is cool to the touch, leaving you less than settled. With a flash of light, and what felt like the world spinning, you ended up in a completely different room.

Sluggishly, you lift your head, taking in the sight of such a lavish throne room, and a very large chair, covered in gold detailing, with deep red cushions.

He sits down, keeping you in his lap and to his chest, as if you’d disappear. He kisses the top of your head, cooing at how tired you are.

He looks at you, taking in your much smaller form, and how perfectly you rest against him, like puzzle pieces fitting together.

He would wipe out his entire undead army for you, if they scared you so much.

“I love you, darling.”

His ears twitch, picking up the sound of your heartbeat speeding up.

“I would do anything for you, to protect you. You are mine to hold, mine to love. I will keep you from harms way.”

You lazily blink, feeling his grip getting tighter as he takes deep inhales of your scent.

“Your presence and warmth alone are more addicting than the finest ambrosia. I want you to myself.”

“Vlad?”

You fight back a flinch when he growls low and deeply, you can feel it in your chest.

“Say it, say you’re mine, please.”

You can feel yourself sweating, unsure how to answer him.

Do you want to escape and go home?

Or do you want to stay here, with the lord of the night as your beloved?

You weigh the pros and cons of everything.

Finally, you look into those deep crimson eyes.

“I’m yours.”

He smiles, fangs poking from his lips before he pulls you into a breathtaking kiss. His arms around you, hugging you to his chest, keeping you in place.

His lips firmly on yours, only pulling away so you could breathe.

As you pant, he can’t help but think about when he finally turns you into a vampire like him, you won’t need air, and can kiss him for as long as possible.

You’ll be tied to him forever, stuck with him.

He trembles at the thought.

He can’t wait to keep you with him forever.

#yandere castlevania #castlevania yandere dracula #castlevania dracula #castlevania x reader #castlevania dracula x reader #yandere dracula x reader #yandere #tw.yandere #tw.kidnapping

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ivy-loves-chocolate · 6 months

Text

Note: I had to repost this cuz I accidentally deleted the first one lol. Anyway, this is such a cute request, anon! ❤️ I had so much fun writing it, and I hope you'll enjoy it. Lmk if you want a second, smutty part 🤗;

Pair: Leon Kennnedy x Reader;

Type: fluff, but things get heated at the end;

If you want to commission me check my Ko-Fi. I also have a Patreon page if you wanna check it out. Thanks! ☺️

The day was about to end as the sunset blessed the sky with its beautiful amber rays. The patio was slowly becoming crowded as more people finished work by now, but Leon wasn’t bothered. He took a sip from his cocktail and watched the sunset, lost in his own thoughts.

Even if it’s been a week with no calls from work, he still waits for the familiar ringtone to disturb his peace. He brings one arm to his bicep and gently brushes his fingers over a certain spot. The pain was gone. All the bruises healed from his last mission.

“You alright?” You asked, seeing as he might not be here.

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just... everything is calm and peaceful, you know.”

“And I take it you’re not used to it.”

“Nope. Usually, I would’ve been hit by this table by now instead of having dinner at it. Some big, scary monster would’ve chased after me, and so on.”

“Hmmm, I guess that’s true. If you want, I can chase you around with this knife and give you some adrenaline if you miss it.”

Leon chuckled and shook his head.

“No, it’s alright. It’s not that I miss the adrenaline, it’s the fact that I keep expecting something bad to happen any time now.”

"Well, stop it. Hunnigan was very clear when she told you that no one would bother you in your free time. There are plenty of agents; they can manage.”

“I guess you’re right.”

He took your hand in his and squeezed gently while smiling at you. The gentle breeze moved your hair from side to side slowly and delicately. Leon stared at you for a few seconds, admiring how beautiful you looked in that golden light that highlighted your beautiful features.

“One thing I’ll never get tired of is having such great company.” He said it softly while looking at you. He took another sip from his cocktail.

You smiled and looked away for a few seconds, but you didn’t move your hand. The way he was looking and talking with you made you blush.

“What?” He said this as his big thumb began to caress your skin. “I mean it.”

“I know; I enjoy your company too. It’s just that such moments like this with you are rare, and when they finally happen, it feels surreal.”

“I know… Don’t worry, I promise I’ll try to make them happen more often.”

A full moon replaced the sun, and stars filled the sky. You and Leon went for a walk after the meal you just had. The breeze was still gentle, but the air was colder, so Leon gave you his jacket since you forgot yours home. You were holding hands as you walked on the crowded boulevard.

“Wanna get yourself something nice?” He asked as you passed in front of some stores.

“Hmm, no. Maybe later.”

Leon spoiled you this week a lot. He bought you various gifts, took you to expensive restaurants, and made sure that the hotel where you were staying was one of the top. You paid too for some meals and tickets to tourist attractions, but it was mostly him to use the wallet. Despite telling him there was no need for such treatment, he ignored you and continued to pay.

He also went everywhere you wanted to go. He didn’t say “no” once during your vacation. He just enjoyed your presence, and as long as you were happy, he was happy too.

"Are you sure you’re not cold?”

"Yeah, I’m fine; don’t worry about me.” He chuckled as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him. Then he pressed a kiss on your head.

“You’re such a gentleman, Leon.”

Under the soft glow of the moonlight, the streets were bathed in a gentle silver light. Both of you found a quiet corner of the city and allowed yourselves to be caught in the magic of the night. The distant hum of traffic and the occasional city sounds provided a subtle backdrop to the moment.

Leon couldn’t take his eyes off you, smiling the entire time like someone who had experienced love for the first time.

The air between you became charged with an unspoken connection. Leon looked deep into your eyes as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

The streetlights cast a warm halo around you, creating an intimate space in the midst of the urban chaos. The night held a certain stillness, as if time itself had slowed to allow you to savour your romance.

You placed your hands over his shoulder, then went behind his neck as you leaned forward, closing the gap between your bodies.

The anticipation hung in the air, a delicate dance of desire. Leon finally closed the remaining space, and your lips met in a tender, long-awaited kiss. With closed eyes, you let your bodies be consumed by the intense lust that this magical moment brought.

The moon dispersed its bright light as if it were aware of this gentle moment, subtly urging its sister stars to gather and cast their shine in the beautiful moment that was unfolding beneath them.

Your mouths melted together in a union of passion. Neither of you felt like pulling out any time soon. Leon’s hands began to gently caress your waist, shifting the fabric of your shirt as they moved up and down. Your hands began to play with his hair, running it between your delicate fingers.

“Leon…” you said in a needy voice.

“Yes?”

“I think we should go back to the hotel…”

With a sigh, Leon pulled away. A smile shortly appeared on his lips as he cupped your face with his hands.

“I think you’re right.”

He kissed your lips one more time and grabbed your hand, guiding you back to the hotel through the crowded street.

Tag-list: @lunarastrobabe @skylar-todd @rokurodokuro @brownsugarwrites @yourallyse @ravenrune (if you want to be added DM me 🤗)

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil leon #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon x you #leon x reader #leon fluff #leon kennedy fluff

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jj-one · 1 month

Text

A MODERN LOVE STORY.

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

When your tinder date who was supposed to be just a hook up becomes your boyfriend within a week.

pairing: han jisung x f!reader genre/tags: pwp, smut, fluff, jisung is such a gentleman, fingering, oral (m receiving), piv, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap), major size kink, slight daddy kink (not surprised), jisung has huge dick, jisung cums on readers face, i think that's it Imk if i missed any o_0 words: 4.5k

**old repost from my deleted blog

Dating apps were never really your thing, you’ve always been an “old fashioned” kind of girl. You’ve secretly dreamt of meeting your lover in a grocery store or bumping into them at a library where you instantly fall in love. Unfortunately, you can’t be delusional forever, your Prince Charming isn’t going to just come knocking for you at your doorstep. Unless…you find someone who can come to your doorstep but through an app, Tinder. You decided to give it a try and see what all the hype was about after your best friend Ryujin raved about all the hot guys she was meeting— and banging.

You often found yourself quite jealous of all the good sex she was getting, she could have anything she wanted all at her fingertips. You were always horny and looking for the next toy to play with but you decided maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to try and find a cute guy to hook up with and relieve some quick stress. You may be old fashioned but you weren’t too uptight to have a hook up once in a while.

You downloaded Tinder for once in your lifetime and wrote in all your info, chose your best photos, and made a silly little bio. Your bio was just ‘looking for a fun time, need someone who can break my back, not my heart’ you know it super lame but most guys like corny shit like that anyway. You swiped for ages and ages, barely giving anyone a right swipe because you were way too picky. They had to be top tier in the visual department even if they were just a one night stand, you’ll always have standards. You were getting tired of swiping and just about to call it a night up until you swiped on the next profile. His name was Han and he only lived 2.5 miles from you.

As you were scrolling through his profile, you couldn’t stop thinking how hot he was, his hair was blonde, and he always wore the same cross necklace in his all photos. You read his profile some more and saw that he has a dog named Bbama and you smiled at how adorable his dog was. You instantly swiped right after seeing the dog pics and you couldn’t believe you matched with him already. Your heart kind of skipped a beat for a second and you closed the app immediately. You didn’t think he’d be so quick to match with you and you wanted to message him but your pride got in the way. You figured he’s way too fine to even message you back, he probably gets floods of messages from girls asking. You decide to play it cool and not say anything, instead you took a screenshot of his profile and sent it to Ryujin.

She texts you back a couple minutes later and says she thinks he’s really hot, you’re glad she approves but you’re not surprised that she wouldn’t. You go through his profile again and see that he has his Instagram linked to his Tinder, you go to his Instagram account and continue your stalking spree. You see a bunch of pics of his dog, food, and mostly outdoorsy stuff. You didn’t figure him to be the wilderness type of guy but he was, he’s been hiking all over different mountains and has photos of him at the very top. You were in awe of how fearless this man was, you were swayed already by how he presented himself.

Your phone buzzes with a new notification.

‘Han sent you a message’ Tinder alerts you of 2 new notifications from him. You open the messages immediately, a huge grin plastered on your face as you read what he said to you.

‘Hi y/n’

‘What’s your favorite food?’

‘I’m taking notes on where I need to take you on our first date’

That was very smooth but also straightforward, you liked him already.

‘Pho, I could eat it everyday’

‘You’re already planning our date? lol’

You sent the messages and texted Ryujin straight away, telling her how much of a success this was already going. She tells you how much she was right all along and how you’ve been missing out this whole time, you just giggle at her shenanigans.

You get another notification from Tinder and it’s from your favorite new guy already.

‘Yes, how could I not? You’re a 10/10’

You smile to yourself when reading at that comment, you never really saw yourself as a perfect 10 but if someone this highly attractive sees you that way then you must be a smokeshow. Han sends you another message,

‘I can pick you up tmrw at 5? Dinner is on me babe so no need to bring a wallet ;)’

You bit your lip at that last sentence, who would’ve known someone this sexy could be your sugar daddy AND fuck buddy? Ok well maybe the sugar daddy part was just a joke. It definitely turned you on knowing that he’s willing to spend his money on you without you feeling guilt about it though.

‘See you at 5 <3’ you reply to him.

The very next day you’re in the car going to your date with Han. The moment you laid eyes on him there was a lustful nature that came out of you. You didn’t even think it could be possible but he looked even better in person, the pictures didn’t do him justice whatsoever. His jawline was insane, it was sharp and looked absolutely perfect from his side profile. His hair was a little messy but in a really cute way, he had a small silver stud in his ear and wore his cross necklace like the one in his photos. You couldn’t believe it was really him in your driveway, he had to be the most beautiful you’ve ever seen. He wore a plain black T-shirt with baggy jeans and converse, he looked effortlessly cool. He was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other was playing with his radio. He was trying to get the Aux cord to work properly but it just wasn’t cooperating with him, he decides to just leave it alone.

“So uh.. anyway is this your first Tinder date?” He asks trying to break the awkward silence.

“Yeah, actually it is,” you tell him “I’m not the hugest fan of dating apps but I decided why not give it a shot.” You say as your shrug your shoulders.

“Ah I see, well you met me so that’s a good sign so far right?” He asks with a goofy grin on his face, you couldn’t help but giggle at his quirkiness.

You talk for a bit more in the car and get to know each other, as you’re getting nearer to the destination he comes to a stop into a parking lot. He gets out of the car first and opens the door for you on your side.

“M’lady,” Han says in a funny voice, taking your hand in his as you get out the car. You’re loving his silly and fun energy so far, it’s definitely bringing your mood up as you had no expectations for how this would go.

The date ended up going extremely well, you both couldn’t stop laughing and cracking jokes together. Everything felt super lighthearted and easygoing with Han, you felt like you could say just about anything with him, feeling like you’ve known him for much longer than a couple of hours. He bought so much expensive meat for the both of you at the restaurant and the pho was fantastic. You’ve never been to this particular restaurant before as it was a bit too out of your price range, you were surprised when he told you he ate here frequently. You wanted to ask him what he does for a living but you don’t want to seem rude. You ate as much as you could and he definitely ate way more than you, lightly making fun at the way you eat. You do eat pretty slow so you aren’t shocked by the way he’s noticing that already.

You like the way Han eats because he stores food in his cheeks like a squirrel, usually that action would give you the ick but with him you find it quite endearing. Once you both finish eating at the restaurant he takes you to a pier where there’s pretty lights near the water. It was a nice day to go out on a walk so he grabbed your hand and led the way down the path. You guys talked so much for hours about any and everything, you talked for so long that you ended up watching the sunset together, then looked at the stars. When you looked down and noticed that you’ve been holding hands with him this whole time, but you didn’t want to point it out to Han incase he’d let go.

You’ve spent a total of only 5 hours with this man but you really do feel as though you’ve known him your whole life. He was so fun to talk to, handsome, and literally the sweetest person ever, it made you question how someone this perfect could even be single. You really couldn’t wait any longer for him to end up in your bed tonight and that’s exactly what you planned to happen. As the night progresses you ask him if he wants to come back to your place for the night. He looks surprised yet obliges and drives back to your apartment. It was pretty late at night and you only had your tiny lamp in the kitchen on, so you couldn’t see much of where you were going. You turn around to face Han who’s been staring you up and down this whole time.

You didn’t even have much time to take off your jacket before Han’s lips were all over yours. His hands roamed all over your body and yours were now tangled in his messy blonde hair. He startles you for a second when he picks you up and lifts you onto the marble kitchen countertop, not breaking the kiss once. He bites down on your lower lip slightly, making you gasp so he can easily slip his tongue in you. His movements were gentle and he kisses you so passionately, one of his hands comes up behind your neck and the other is stroking the apex of your thigh. As you both pull away from kissing, he stops to stare at you for the longest second.

“You are so beautiful y/n,” he says, stroking your hair and tucking some behind your ear, then he kisses your ear and licks it. He continues peppering a few more kisses downwards and to your neck, beginning to suck lightly, causing you to let out a quiet moan. He leaves a couple small hickies around your neck and kisses your lips once again. You tug at his T-shirt and motion for him to take it off, he does as he’s told and removes it from his body. You get a faint look at his chest since it’s a such little bit of light in the kitchen, from what you can see however, he looks perfect. When he comes closer, you can feel his rock solid abs, you know he works out but you weren’t expecting him to be this fit.

You go back to making out for awhile and his hands are now laid on your chest. He cups both of your boobs in his hands and kneads them through your thin shirt, he realizes this isn’t enough for him so he slides his hands underneath your shirt. He ran his fingers against your nipples and starts to pinch them lightly, making you moan directly into his mouth. He groans when you bring your hand lower to his pelvis, trying to locate his belt so you can tell him to take it off. You finally reach something you presume to be leather and you grab it, bringing his body closer to you in the process.

“You want me to take this off huh?” Han asks, pointing to his belt but all you see is his erect dick print through his jeans.

You nod your head profusely, “yes pleasee, right now!”

He grins at you while slowly taking off his belt, throwing it down on the floor and now he’s stroking his cock through his pants. You hear him groan a little bit as you can see him palming himself, wanting to take him in your mouth so bad.

“Let me give you head,” you say almost desperately, you didn’t mean for it to sound so needy but you really wanted— no needed his cock.

“Okay,” he says smiling back at you, “sounds great to me.”

You get up from the kitchen counter and now position yourself on the floor, on your knees. You never pictured yourself to be the one sucking a random guy off Tinder’s dick but hey, things just so happen to turn out that way. You unzip Han’s pants and gently pull them down, he was wearing pink supreme boxers and you expected nothing less from him. You pull down his boxers too and his erect cock springs up out of them like a slinky. Eyes growing wide in awe as you couldn’t wait for his giant, thick cock to go into your mouth. You start to stroke his length and realize that one hand won’t be enough to do the job, you have to use two to get a good firm grasp around it and even then it’s still a few inches off.

You contemplate how you’re even going to fit all of him into your mouth but you think of the consequences later. You continue pumping his cock with your hands and he moans lowly under his breath. You lick the tip of his cock and he winces a little, that must be his sensitive spot. You suck on the tip and guide your mouth to slowly take in more of his cock, keeping a suction-tight grip on him as you keep lowering your head. You get to a point where you start to physically choke and gag on his cock, your saliva was getting everywhere now, all over your chin, your chest, his cock, and some even spilled on the floor. You know you have to be a good girl and take all of him but you never had someone this big before.

“You have such a nice dick,” you blurt out while taking a break, wanting to please him more than anything.

“Thank you baby,” Han smiles down at you while you bring his cock back into your mouth, this time breathing through your nose you have a better chance at taking him all. You were successful and managed to get most of it inside your mouth, maybe just a couple centimeters off. You kept at it, sucking his cock like your life literally depended on it, shooting your head back and forth making you feel dizzy.

“Mmm yeah… that’s it baby… just like that-” Han moans out for you with his eyes closed shut and head thrown back, you’re making him feel so good right now.

“I think I’m gonna cum y/n…”

You continue what you’ve been doing for the past 15 minutes or so, sucking his cock at an even faster rate. You look up at him and give him a sultry look with your eyes, you need to feel his cum all over you.

“Please cum on my face daddy,” you tell him, you used to let your ex cum on your face all the time and you were craving for that kind of thing at the moment. You keep deepthroating him and making gagging noises in the process, wanting him to know just how hard you’re working for his cum. He lets out a long moan and keeps saying he’s about to cum, you tap his dick on your tongue so you can get a taste of his load shooting out and then… you suddenly go blind. Han’s load comes out so fast that it got everywhere, causing some of it to get into your eye. You couldn’t see for a bit and rubbed your eye, feeling a thick, sticky substance on your left cheek. Han’s cum was now painted all over your face, some even got on your shoulder and landed on the floor. You smiled at how much cum you caused to come out his dick, feeling awfully proud of yourself.

You get up from your knees and start kissing again, he brings you back to the counter you were originally sitting on and he toys with the waistband of your skirt. He pulls your skirt down and begins rubbing your pussy through your underwear, dragging his fingers along your slit and teasing you. You whimper as you buck your hips up, wanting to feel his fingers on your clit. He finally moves your panties to the side and starts rubbing his middle finger against your swollen clit.

“Damn, you’re wet as fuck…” he says, looking at your glistening, wet pussy. He circles your clit and spits on it, mixing your juices with his saliva. He then dips his finger inside your hole, you let out a moan as he starts pushing his finger in and out. The sound of his fingers going in your wet pussy sound so dirty yet so blissful. He kisses you as he keeps fingering you, spreading you open with another finger. You’re such a moaning mess and it’s all thanks to Han’s wonderful fingers. You were arching your back at the sensation you were feeling, his thumb is now rubbing your clit while two of his fingers are still inside. You wanted his cock so badly, but you were going to have to ask nicely for it.

“I need you…” you whine to Han, you don’t know why you were too shy to say what you needed the most though.

“Need what baby?” He asks with his fingers still deep inside your sopping cunt, you were aching for something bigger and it’s making you go crazy.

“Your cock… need your cock, please!” You practically beg at this point for it. Han’s smile grew wider as he saw how needy you were already acting for him.

“As you wish pretty girl,” he says, taking his fingers out and licking the juices off of them one by one. He takes his cock in his hand and rubs it along your folds, he feels how soaking wet you are and it’s already enough to make him want to burst. He doesn’t think he’s a fast cummer (is that a word?) but for you, he’d nut instantly. He slides his thick, long cock into your little pussy, making you audibly gasp in pain and pleasure.

The size of him is enough to make you want to never be able to walk again, but you think once he’s done with you he’ll be leaving you permanently bed ridden.

“Just relax baby, you can take it all trust me..” Han assures you as he continues to slide his length inside, your wetness mixed with the sounds of his dick makes for the perfect porn audio. Your legs were spreading wide open and rested on his shoulders, he was taking nice and slow strokes at first. He wants you to become more adjusted to his size, he’s finally able to get all of himself in. You look down at your stomach to see a giant bulge, his cock was so big that he practically took up half of your torso.

“Ready baby?” Han whispers in your ear, asking for the okay to start thrusting deeper into you. You nod as you were finally getting used to him, he goes a little faster and starts to build a steady pace. His cock is hitting the back of your walls nicely and you feel every inch of him inside you. The cross necklace he was still wearing dangled over you, which was pretty ironic for the sinful act you two were committing at the moment. Wrapping your arms around his neck as he moves deeper into you, stretching you out like the little whore you are. You feel yourself growing wetter with each thrust and he’s grabbing your waist tightly with both hands.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good… my god..” Han says moaning, his eyes are closed again as he keeps fucking your tight pussy. You took his cock so well, you were so proud of yourself.

“Your cock feels amazing daddy,” you whimper out to him as you continue moaning his name, feeling like you’re about to cum already. Han’s breath becomes more irregular and his strokes are getting messier, you can tell he’s reaching his climax as well.

“Let’s cum together.” Han coaxes, holding your hand while fucking into you, his cock fits all the way inside without hurting you now and all you feel is immense pleasure. You nod your head in agreement with him and focus on reaching your high. A wave of ecstasy washes over you as Han hits a certain spot in you, his dick is so big that it can reach little places you never felt before, it’s an incredible feeling. Your head swings back as you feel your orgasm approaching, you let out a few curse words and catch your breath. Han feels his release coming too and quickly pulls out, he pumps his cock for a little bit with his right hand and watches his load shoot out onto your stomach. He lets out an erotic groan as he finishes off his last bit of cum and strokes his cock a little more.

“Fuck that was the best sex I’ve ever had..” Han says while panting, grabbing your face to pull into you a breathless kiss.

“Yeah, that was definitely amazing,” you respond after pulling away, smiling at his first impressions of you.

It was now midnight and you were both exhausted, you two were too fucked out to do anything else and Han was way too tired to head home that night. You didn’t mind Han staying over at your place, to be honest, it felt pretty normal. As you both got into bed he gave you tons of forehead kisses and cradled you to sleep, his embrace felt safe and protecting. You never wanted to leave his presence and neither did he.

It was the early hours of the morning and the sun is beaming on your face through the sheer white curtains. You wake up to a familiar smell coming from your kitchen, it was the smell of eggs and pancakes cooking. You put on some clothes quickly to head to your kitchen, you see Han in nothing but his underwear cooking you breakfast. You looked at the clock and saw that it was only 7:04 am, how is he already awake at this time of the morning? You make your way on over to him and give him a chaste kiss, telling him good morning. He finishes up cooking and grabs some plates for the both of you. You couldn’t believe your eyes right now, your Tinder date that you just hooked up with last night is now cooking you breakfast. You want to feel like you’re living in a dream but the more you keep blinking the more real this situation feels.

“Ready to eat babe?” Han asks, handing you a plate full of food. You nod, still trying to process everything that’s going on but you don’t want to keep questioning it. You sit at the table with Han and eat your food. You both talk as though everything is normal, still making little jokes with each other like yesterday’s date. The food he made was pretty good and you were wondering what other hidden skills he may have been hiding. You’re now questioning what could be wrong with him since he’s so perfect, why hasn’t someone like him not been snatched up yet? As you finish eating you head back upstairs, Han follows you.

“What’re you doing?” You ask him, turning around to face him in confusion.

“Im just following where you’re going,” he admits sheepishly.

“But why?” You genuinely want to know why he’s considered still being here and isn’t fleeing after finally getting what he wanted.

“I want to stay here for a while,” he says while looking away at something else, he was a bit shy to ask if he could stay over for another day.

“For how long?” You ask, wondering if he’s serious about his infatuation with you.

“I- I don’t know, can I just stay for one more night? Please y/n?” He holds your hand, gently caressing and rubbing it.

You feel conflicted, on one hand you want someone you can feel connected to on a deeper level but the other hand is making you want to keep this relationship as no strings attached. You sigh as you see the glint in his eyes, his eyes were all it took for you to give into him.

“Okay” you say, he smiles as he hears your swift response. He presses a soft kiss against your lips and lets you lead the way back to your room.

Four days have passed and Han is still staying in your apartment with you. You decided you didn’t actually hate his company and that it was just the fear of commitment that made you reluctant. Han was different though, he brought a side out of you that no one else has. He brings you flowers, makes you laugh until your stomach hurts, listens to your problems/needs/wants/desires, shuts up when he’s supposed to, and does anything you say at the drop of a hat.

He’s the perfect guy for you and you met him on something you wouldn’t have tried if it wasn’t for your best friend. You’re still in shock by how you and Han are basically in a relationship now, I mean who stays at someone’s house for almost a week if they weren’t falling in love? You should be happy yet you’re nervous, you’re nervous about telling Ryujin, what if she thinks you’re moving too fast? You didn’t tell anyone about this “relationship” yet since you’ve never rushed into things this quickly with someone.

Han was a great person and you knew that with every fiber of your being, you just didn’t know if others would see that through just a few days of talking. You know you’re going to have to do it at some point since you’re actually thinking about getting serious with him. Han has been nothing more than amazing to you and if everyone else doesn’t see that then they’re crazy, you can’t convince everyone to like him but you start to feel as though it won’t be an issue for him. You think he’ll fit in just fine with everyone in due time ♡

#han jisung x reader #han fluff #han smut #han jisung smut #han jisung fluff #han jisung x female reader #skz smut #han jisung drabbles #han jisung fanfic #skz x reader #han jisung imagines #skz x female reader #han jisung scenarios #skz drabbles #skz scenarios #stray kids x female reader #stray kids drabbles #skz fanfic

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cozycottagetarot · 8 months

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Trials and Tribulations with your Future Spouse

Pile 1 -> 3

This reading is all about hardships you may face at some point along the journey of being with your future spouse. It's also a repost of the original as I accidentally deleted it. 👀 It's lightly edited, but it's been a while so I can't offer clarifications on much.

PILE 1

Hello pile 1! In the beginning of you knowing each other, or prior to knowing each other, your future spouse may have struggled or at the time may be struggling financially. Through the cards, I see them having financial struggles/money or money loss until you come along. I feel like you guys may meet when you (the person reading this) are young (college/university age maybe). I see you *kind of* put up with their B.S until you realise they’re not making an effort to fix themselves financially. What I mean is sometimes when you’re (objective) with someone casually (romantic or platonic) you may not care as much about what someone does until their presence in your life starts to become more serious. Then it’s a matter of ‘how will their actions affect me/them/us?’.

After that I see you guys flipping the switch. You go from being their ideal person to this cold, independent (not to say you weren’t before, they’re just realising how independent you are) person. You’d threaten to walk away if they don’t clean up their financial situation, and I feel like in the end you do. But that can’t be the end of the story, right? After pulling a second set of cards the story shifts. Your future spouse, now having realise they’ve lost you, work on getting their finances in order and succeed. Once they do this, it’s a matter to them of being able to ‘win you back’. In my mind I get an image of someone showing up at the other's environment (work, home, hangout) looking dapper/classy with flowers or some other gift, along with the verbal offering to start over. I see you assessing them and realising they have made a complete 180 in the way they are presenting themself, but still, it’s up to you to decide if you reconcile or cut them off altogether. I feel like you do agree to a fresh start in the end because there’s The Fool. Through the images on the cards, I imagine you guys are able to move past this trial and have a passionate and romantic relationship together. They become someone dependable, loyal and hardworking and you return to your softer, more gentle energy with them.

PILE 2

This whole reading I felt absolutely nothing lol. What I mean by that is, that I felt so in control of my general being the whole entire time, it was so unusual. Pretty please, what’s your secret to being so chill? 😆. Jokes aside, I think between you and your future spouse, you’ll be the more calm and controlled one. The ‘Present One’, while they might more often find themself in la la land. In the cards, from their meanings and images, I see your potential trial & tribulation between you and your future spouse being a lack of recognition in how much you do for them. I don’t mean in a materialistic or caretaking kind of way but in the sense of reminding them there’s a doorway that leads out of that headspace. You both show up for each other in the relationship, helping care for the other when they need some extra help. Your future spouse knows this and is grateful for it.

What they tend to not be aware of however, is how often you kind of put a halt to them getting stuck in their head. For the situation that is showing up, there are a lot of pentacles so I’m going with a career related explanation. Your future spouse may get so invested in or overwhelmed by their work that they may find themselves focused on it 24/7 constantly mulling over ideas and solutions. You would notice and respond with a *insert caring sigh* 'Here we go again'.

The solution? There’s this level-headed energy, so I think you would bring it up with something as simple as a playful nudge over dinner, letting them know what’s going on and how you feel. They would realise that they’ve been so focused on their work and so in their head, they didn’t even see how you were working to keep the sun shining for them. Your future spouse would come to understand that it hasn’t been an equal give-and-take lately, and would want to correct it quickly. Obviously, it’s not something that can happen overnight, but I do see them learning to better control their mental focus, along with where they are investing their time and gaining balance. The end outcome is a restoration of harmony between you both, and you’re future spouse learning to be more present.

PILE 3

Pile 3, I’m going to be honest with you ✋I don’t see any seriousness to this relationship when this ‘trial’ is going on. It more seems like the trial is getting to one another… as in you two haven’t even met??? I pick up on a third-party situation in the sense of hardships presenting in your individual lives (one or both of you) and creating a blockage or stagnation. The cards come across so heavy, particularly the court cards since they are reversed. It makes me think that you (again could be you, your FS or both) are not in the ‘energy’ you’re meant to be in. But a happy ending awaits once you move away from those hardships. I asked about the hardship and The Hermit and Four of Cups came out, so I think it’s just a matter of some part of your life isn’t giving the results you want, or is causing you pain, so you’re rejecting it.

You know it’s not what you want, but you’re still kind of confused. I think the solution that leads to the ‘happy beginning’ is acceptance and peace of mind. Knowing there’s only so much you can control, only so much you can do and realising that you are doing it already, or taking the action to do the things that you can do. From there stems this inner peace, happiness, contentment, and a sense of freedom. The end outcome is a new beginning which I then believe will lead to you meeting your future spouse.

So to summarize (since I’m not sure how well I explained that), your trial & tribulation to getting with your future spouse is a matter of making adjustments to your life so it aligns with something that brings you peace inside.

I just see heaviness and reversed court cards making me think of not being in the energy you were meant to be in. But there is a happy ending waiting for you both once you move away from those hardships.

Disclaimer: All readings are based on current energies. I read tarot for self-reflection and guidance purposes, but as always, this reading is for fun and entertainment purposes only. Any reading I post is in no way meant to act as or replace professional advice of any kind. You know yourself and what’s going on in your life best so I ask that you trust yourself above all else. I cannot predict the future, and prediction readings are to be seen simply as a potential outcome. Finally, please take only what resonates from the reading which may be some of it, all of it, or none at all.

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a picture #pac reading #pick a pile reading #pac #tarot reading #tarotblr

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boyfhees · 2 years

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🗗 MORE THAN ROOMMATES | k. ayato

precis. you plan to move out of your apartment and ayato sees his whole life flash before his eyes.

wc. 10.3k please please please read this do not ignore because of the word count. please read it for ayato in silk robes

genre. humour, roommates ! au, modern ! au, suggestive, roommate to lovers ( ? )

warnings. profanities, this gets sort of sensual pls, suggestive, mentions of sex, disclaimer : there's no style & only writing, very bad jokes i'm unhinged with this one, more or less an inner monologue, unsolicited crack, kys and kms jokes ( ? ), drinking, mentions of dying, open ending ? it's pretty obvious if you'd ask me, thoma and sara are absolutely shit at giving advices, both the reader and ayato are absolute simps oh god please forget i ever wrote this ( actually don't. come talk to me about this )

note. repost :( my brother deleted my account sighh anyway please read this ig this is my fav work ever rip. inspired by this fic by my dearest mai go read it

ayato has no business living in an overly expensive apartment with a broken heater and cracked ceilings. in fact, he can instead move out any second. one call and his chauffeur would pick him up, another call and the kamisatos will have another villa signed under their names— well, ayato’s name, to be specific. for someone with overflowing wealth and a father who’s an excellent architect, ayato is surely down to earth.

his sister, ayaka, drops by every few weeks to check up on her brother. well, honestly, she only arrives to check up on the apartment and try another shot at persuading her brother to move out, only to return back home with nothing but failure in her palms. much to your surprise, she even offered the landlady a contract to buy the apartment. ‘we can buy, renovate and decorate this— then you and ayato can live happily!’ her exact words, but you declined. after all, you can not keep leeching off the kamisatos and living lavishly with a million dollars debt threatening to decapitate you in your sleep. ayato has done enough by handling your expenses when you were fired from your previous job.

talking about you, your life in the apartment isn’t any better. if you ignore the benefits of being roommates with ayato— which solely includes free boba and the opportunity to watch him in a silk robe every time he takes a shower— you don’t have any reasons to not move out of the apartment either. surprisingly enough, you’re sure that if you continue to living there and keep using the dark and narrow alleyway as your shortest way home from the university campus, you’ll be murdered luxuriously.

that was four months ago, though, when you were a new resident who paid an offensively high rent for a shitty apartment and saw yourself on the streets in the near future. the you from four months ago is probably cursing the hell out of you; not even probably, it’s certain. every night, you entertain your two lovely, semi-functional brain cells telling you to gather your stuff and move out the day you get your pay cheque.

you’re reminded to move in with your parents again after you had the nastiest argument with them and moved out impulsively, saying you’ll ‘slay’ out there, in the world, all alone. well, surprise, you’re not. instead, the world is slaying you by having you juggle between three part time jobs while managing your hair-greying college schedule and an apartment who’s faucet goes out every other day. that’s when the landlady gave you the happiest news you’d heard in months : a roommate.

now, you see, for most people, having a roommate would be troublesome. no one wants to share the kitchen or their favourite spot on the couch or something, but the day you were informed about your roommate moving in, you were on cloud nine. you had a drink, blanked out completely in the middle of the living room for absolutely no reason, even cleaned the apartment extra carefully the next day for dear roommate. you’re crazy for that, you had your reasons.

first, the rent. thankfully, it is still around how it was before with a bare fifteen percent increase; but hey, you no longer have to carry the financial burden yourself and have your conscience call you an imbecile every night before you drift into sleep. moreover, you’d finally have someone to fix the faucet, change the bulbs, and most importantly, hear you venting about how shit the apartment is. you were also excited about your roommate being the ‘nice, college student in his early twenties’ guy, as informed by your landlord, but that’s for another day.

and that is how you had ayato as your roommate. his first look was intimidating. you remember wondering if he’s actually a college student and not some undercover assassin. but again, he looks too, if anything, decent, to be an assassin. ayato likes his boba extra sweetened and his closet consists of anything but hoodies and sweatpants. he watches bunny videos in free time and feeds stray cats whenever they come around. he also cooks two meals a day and ends up ordering the third one so you don’t have to overwork yourself after all the part time jobs and stressful classes, helps you with assignment, puts you to bed if you fall asleep in living room— yeah, no. he’s way too decent to be an assassin.

ayato thinks he’s doing a wonderful job at being a roommate who you can depend upon. from the first hour of the day to the last one at night, he helps you, greets you, stays by your side; he’s an amazing roommate, and it’s a fact. thoma confirmed, and sara thinks he’s being a little too generous but hey, it’s about you; and when it comes to you, nothing is ‘too much’ for aayto.

so when you tell him on one fine sunday morning that you’ll be moving out next month, ayato sees his life flash before his eyes. it’s been two days since you’ve informed him and he’s still too stunned to speak.

“hey,” ayato greets you in the kitchen, fetching a glass from a shelf higher than usual. there’s something off about the atmosphere, and it’s definitely not you. so, your eyes travel to ayato as he pours himself a glass of ice-cold water at the ass crack of dawn. “so you’re really moving out?”

what the fuck.

no because, you’re still half asleep. it’s half past five, you’re getting water and ayato waltz into the kitchen with his robe half draping off one of his shoulders and a raspy morning voice that has you weak in knees. perhaps, you expect a sweet little ‘good morning’ with his trademark smile that has the landlord’s daughter wrapped around his finger— and you too, honestly. instead, you’re met with a frown hanging on his face and a question about the topic that was last brought up about two days ago.

“yeah. surprise?” you let out the fakest laugh before letting it die just as quickly the moment the sound of your cracked voice hits your ears. actually, you don’t even care about how you look and sound. what’s more important is that ayato isn't acting like himself. well, he’s the one to react quickly and not resurrect a dead conversation two days after, especially when you’re in the process of mourning and grieving about the lack of ayato you’ll have in your life from the next month onward.

see, you have a disease, and it’s terminal. you could’ve moved out the day you moved in, or the day ayato moved in, or on any day in the past four months, but your condition didn’t allow you. first, it was the lack of green money in your hands to get a better apartment and after ayato moved in, he became the problem.

you’re down bad. outsold. you have one look at a fine man and you wobble on your knees; one sight of toned muscles and you’re a goner. flatline. dead. there’s no going back. the first time you saw ayato was after you came back from your classes with a cake in your hands to celebrate the welcoming of your roommate. you opened the door and before you stood ayato with his drenched hair and silk robe, smelling like primroses and everything that the man of your dreams could have ever.

he shot you a smile, and you were sold.

forget the cake, you had a whole five-star exquisite cuisine standing in front of you. rent was no longer a problem, you didn’t mind living under leaking roofs and honestly, even if someone murdered you, you wouldn’t mind. you have been planning to move out for a long time but if that was going to be the scene you came home to everyday, you didn’t mind any of the problems offered by the apartment.

that is what ayato did to you the day he moved in.

so, making a decision about moving out and telling that to him was a torture. not only were you losing your man— how funny— but also your daily free boba supplier. it was a life changing, heart wrenching, decision; but it had to be done.

you shoot him a smile, patting his shoulders as you walk towards your room. “hey, i’m not leaving until next month so don’t think you’re getting rid of me anytime soon.” you hear ayato let out an exaggerated sigh, one that could blow away the wig of your mathematics professor. you don’t know what occurred to him at five-thirty in the morning when he showed up with the saddest frown ever, but thinking he’s upset about you moving out would be getting ahead of yourself and making a clown of yourself once again, in the circus that your life is.

“dude, what the hell—” that’s thoma, and the saccharine words of compliments leaving his mouth are for none other than ayato. “what’s with your face?”

no no, not only his face; in fact, ayato, as a whole, is fucked up. he didn’t get a single ounce of sleep last night and you can blame some netflix shitshow for that. and just when he was about to fall asleep, his hydration requirements led him into the kitchen and the rest is history.

“why is she moving out?” ayato mumbles in the most disappointed and sorrow ridden voice. he didn’t even sound this heart broken when his last girlfriend dumped him in the middle of victoria’s secret because he didn’t help her choose, you know, her lingerie; as insane as it sounds. thoma hasn’t seen ayato this dejected in over a year and the blond head is convinced his one and only close friend, his bro, is losing his mind.

a second passes, thoma repeats ayato’s question in his head. “she, as in yn?” and the next second, he gets his answer. thoma sits straight, back tightened, eyes fixed on ayato who’s very, uh, desolate right now. he has a class in ten minutes but bros before everything, and especially before an hour-long lesson about shit newton did as a scientist. his priority at the moment is to beat some sense into his friend in the politest way possible.

“why shouldn’t she move out— i mean, have you looked at the apartment? it sucks ass, i’m surprised she made it till four months, i would’ve killed myself on the spot if i had to live there.” ayato shoots him a desperate look, a whine rolling off his pout as thoma’s face scrunches up into disgust because the fuck kind of behaviour is ayato exhibiting in middle of the cafe. “you know, you should move out too. i can clearly see the damage that place has done to you.”

oh no, the damage is yet to be done. it’s happening slowly, gradually, slower than the tortoise in that tortoise and the hare race, slower than a sloth, drop by drop, sucking the life out of him. ayato doesn’t have any interest in that sorry excuse of an apartment. instead, he’s interested in you. the day he moved in, you appeared in front of him as an angel. an angel with a cake, strawberry flavoured cake that he absolutely despises but you, on the other hand, looked edible— he means, you looked beautiful. you always do, even when you’re wasted after four bottles and a plattering mess.

god, ayato thinks it’s a blessing to be able to wake up in the same apartment as you. you may say you’re a potato but for ayato, you’re the longest and spiciest chilli in the bunch, he said what he said. and now you’re moving out, he can already spot the differences in the apartment. your stuff is no longer lying here and there since you’ve started arranging your things.

ayato can sense his descent into madness for several reasons. first, you’re just a roommate so why the fuck does he care if you live with him or move to mars; and second, you lived with him for two months without complaints so, why do you want to move out now. he wants to rip his hair out, drink bleach and sleep, hoping to wake up with a better thinking process and stability.

ayato feels like he has been stripped of humanity, all because you’re moving out in less than thirty days.

“hi— shit— you need to start sleeping, ayato!” this is sara, and once again, the elite words of compliments are thrown at none other than the boba man. kujou takes a seat next to thoma, observing ayato as he whines and sighs into his hand, looking like a sleep deprived, homeless man who probably has post traumatic stress disorder, but it’s literally just him crying over you, much to sara’s unawareness. “is he okay?”

thoma shakes his head, taking a sip from his drink, shooting her a ‘does-he-look-like-he’s-okay’ look before sighing at his friend’s state once again. “yn’s moving out and he’s not coping well.”

sara leans back on her chair, rolling eyes at ayato’s diseased situation. it’s surprising that someone hasn’t reported him to the infirmary or some asylum; but she knows the cure. unlike ayato, sara isn’t stupid. she knows; studying criminology gives her an advantage of knowing how to read between the lines, or in this case, ayato’s whines.

“it’s about time you accept your feelings.” what. she states and it feels like ayato’s heart skipped several beats. he looks at her wide eyed, flabber-gasted, with jaw dropped to the floor. “what? i know you like her. you’re fooling no one with that stupid face of yours.”

no, what sara’s saying is stupid. you’re a roommate. his roommate. ayato’s roommate. mate of the room. nothing less and certainly, nothing more. you don’t share a single class. his mornings start with your face and then ayato doesn’t see you for the whole day, unless you bump into each other on the campus, which is rarer than him getting hit by a meteoroid and dying. ain’t no way, he likes you. sure, you’re pretty. god, you’re gorgeous. human embodiment of goddesses but it’s just the beauty. apart from being extremely gorgeous and someone who ayato probably values more than his life, you’re basically a no one.

kamisato ayato trusts his instincts, and his instincts tell him that he doesn’t like you. he likes you, just not in that way, not the like-like. not the i-want-to-surrender-my-life-to-you kind of like, not the i-want-to-make-out-with-you kind of like. okay, maybe the last part is a lie— but he still stands by his words.

“you’re gaslighting m—”

“you’re gaslighting yourself.” thoma cuts him mid-sentence. “i still have the screenshots from the day you spammed me after yn posted that pic. don’t even try to deny.”

wait, that happened?

the, going crazy and spamming after seeing your post? ayato likes to think he was drunk.

“you we’re sober, by the way. never been more, honestly.” and oh god, he’s done for. but that’s okay, right? you’re his roommate, and it’s normal for a roommate to aggressively talk about how pretty their roommate is, isn’t it? ayato believes it is normal. it’s as normal as drinking coffee to sleep better. a human appreciating another human’s beauty, what’s so wrong with that? one should support their kind, mutualism is the way through the ecosystem. rhizobium doesn’t live symbiotically for nothing, after all. it’s just give and take—

“are you going to say something or…?” sara interjects ayato’s trail of useless thoughts. he still doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t know what to say. he doesn’t like you, right, right— it’s clear in his head, he just needs to put it in words. he’s unable to carry out the last part. “okay, if you don’t like yn, then why do you have a problem with her moving out?”

ah, yes. now we’re talking. the life in ayato’s eyes revisits. “look, look— she’s a great cook,” hah, what a liar. you’re a cook, not a great one. you don’t even cook in the apartment to begin with. the kitchen belongs to mister kamisato ayato and you sit by the counter to watch him cook and add another ten to fifteen years in your life. “and she can clean,” that’s something you’ve always been good at. truthfully, you don’t mind cleaning or doing any of the chores for ayato. you’re ready to get on your fours and bark for him. “and, she's pretty…”

“there,” thoma interrupts, slamming his hand on the table, having ayato look at him with a curious gaze; which looks horrifying because of his lack of sleep, by the way. “i don’t see how being pretty is anywhere close to why you need her to stay.”

sara nods in agreement, but ayato knows he makes sense. who wants to live with an ugly roommate? okay, maybe, all roommates are pretty, but thoma, if ayato had to live with him, he’d flee the country. so, being pretty does co-relate with living peacefully, because if you’re not pretty, your roommate will flee countries and that’ll cause unnecessary expenses. henceforth, point proven. ayato still thinks he makes absolute, completely, hundred percent sense.

“whatever, just ask her to stay if it’s that important,” thoma snickers, rolling his eyes. but what he’s saying is not possible. ayato may be good at flirting, he does have a pretty good record with dating, but he becomes a nervous wreck around you.

he’s nervous right now.

you make him nervous. just the thought of you makes him nervous.

and believe it or not, ayato can’t just walk up to you and ask you to not move away because you’re a great cook, you can clean and you’re pretty— no. he doesn’t have the confidence. the whole process sounds like a secret military operation where flexible deterrent options are a must if he wants to survive.

talking to you feels like writing finals for a subject he has never touched in his whole life. it’s like skydiving without a parachute, going into space without oxygen, and whatnot. despite spending two months with you in the same apartment, under the same roof, ayato’s communication skills haven’t improved past the ‘hi / hello’ stage.

it’s like stepping on his sister in front of his mother and then breaking her favourite vase before throwing his father’s golf clubs into the sewer. and even though ayato says he likes you, hypothetically, he wouldn’t stroll up to you and ask you to not move out. that's utterly selfish. you’re just a roommate, a chapter in his life, someone who he stumbled across on his way and took a liking to— platonically— that’s it. that’s all you are. ayato thinks it’s insultingly selfish of him to ask you to stay. so he wouldn’t ask you, but he wants to, he wishes for you to stay, no matter how selfish it sounds.

“i can’t ask her that.” it’s a stern reply, ayato is way too confident with his words while thoma raises his eyebrows as an interrogative response. “what, you expect me to go ‘hey yn, please don’t move out’ one fine day?”

“no, but you can definitely go, ‘hey yn, you have a sexy and hot roommate who will do you right so don’t move out,’ at her.” ayato believes that the stupidest and most brain-degrading sentence that has ever come out of kujou sara’s mouth. “i mean, you don’t have to tell her to stay, show her.”

“this isn’t literature, sara.”

“i know, but show her the benefits of not moving out,” she repeats, her eyes enunciating a bigger plan behind those few insensible words. “seduce her with your skills, ayato.”

yeah no, there’s no bigger plan.

the only plan is to fuck up kamisato ayato’s already fucked up life with her illogical, useless fucked up plan. for someone studying criminology and nailing those charts, sara surely thinks less before speaking. no, she doesn’t think at all. her brain is probably in the suitcase she trashed last week.

“sara, shut up before i—”

ayato wants to continue his statement, but thoma beats him to it. “no no, wait. she, she makes sense.”

no, she does not.

she doesn’t make any sense.

no dots are connected, the dots aren’t here to begin with. head in hands, ayato sighs again. this sounds like something that would ruin his life beyond repair. to damage his reputation so much, he’d have to flee the country and change his identity. perhaps, the kaedehara family would take him in.

“dude, think about it,” ah, no. ayato very well knows that thoma doesn’t get to talk about ‘thinking’ and anything related to it after saying sara’s plan makes sense. her words are incredibly thoughtless. “you show her the benefits. drop her to campus and drive her back, cook for her, clean for her, arrange her bed for her, earn for her, spend on her, just anything— show her, ayato.”

no.

ayato doesn’t like the direction this conversation is heading in.

or perhaps, he’s just overthinking. well, he has been doing almost everything on that list, honestly. everything as in, cooking. that’s it. that’s important, cooking is necessary, one must survive to eat— he means, eat to survive. he has spent quite a generous sum when you lost your very first job.

this whole conversation is eating his brains out. you’re just a friend, not even a friend, a roommate. a fucking roommate he got attached to and how his abandonment issues are surfacing and god knows what will follow. he repeats thoma’s words in his head over and over again— now way, it makes sense. if anything, it’s going to give you the wrong idea that your roommate became a sugar daddy overnight and you’re going to be his first sugar baby, as sweet and horrific as it sounds.

talk to us when you’re in a state to accept your feelings. that’s what sara said before excusing herself out of the cafe with thoma following her shortly behind. yeah no, ayato is regretting every decision that led him to this conversation, this unsolicited therapy session that fucked his brain inside-out. he’s about to leave the cafe as well, planning to skip all his classes and probably go visit a temple or something, until you come around with your friends.

there’s a smile on your face, the one he wakes up to. he loves your smile. ayato thinks your smile is really pretty; you are pretty— platonically. a smile creeps up to his face as well, dissipating as soon as thoma’s words re-visited his mind.

show her. ayato bites the insides of his cheeks. he’s probably going to take that advice. after all, you can make anything make sense if you really tried.

ayato is on his way to the apartment.

he clearly disposed of all his responsibilities as an ideal student and sprinted out of the campus like a criminal on the run. well, he’s on his way to become a criminal. he’s about to seduce you using his skills and then you’ll report him to the police. doesn’t matter that he can get bailed out in minutes thanks to his mad rich family, he’ll still flee the country, get a new identity, dye his hair. kaedehara ayato doesn’t sound bad, not bad at all. it sounds delicious, healing, sounds like something that would save his life.

now, he’s on the elevator to the floor. he’s afraid the elevator would stop moving if another pack of stress stacks up on his shoulders. actually, that wouldn’t be half bad.

the elevator stops, security comes, you will come running, the management will open the door and he’ll die in your arms out of collapsing lungs? stress? anxiety? heart attack? you’ll cup his face and he’ll tell you about his last wish— please don’t move out. though, it would lack the necessary fucks to give since he’s dead but in case, he’s alive, in case, then you’d live with him. sounds like a plan. godbless to whatever sara and thoma have done, ayato is incapable of carrying out the general thinking procedure.

now he’s walking towards the door, fiddling with the key between his fingers. show don’t tell, show don’t tell, show don’t tell— fuck, if ayato ever paid attention to all the lessons about creative writing in highschool, he would’ve been the best selling author; which he is not. there’s a reason why he’s majoring in history, out of all the available options.

for some reason, ayato expected you to be home. if he remembers correctly, you only have half your lessons and he knows you wouldn’t attend half of those scheduled lessons to read webtoons in the library.

but you’re not home, and he’s going crazy. did you run away? oh god— what if you already moved out? surprise, with the haha, happy living alone note? he doesn’t wait another second before opening the door, coming across a living room that’s seemingly… normal.

he spots your plushie on the couch, your gaming console lying around like trash or whatever, and uh, a poster of some levi ackerman from that apocalypse au of the anime you watch after sacrificing sleep to you sleep paralysis demon. he remembers you ordering it a week ago, turns out it arrived this morning and you unpacked it, leaving it in the living room because you were getting late for classes.

you’re still living here, definitely. there’s no way you’re moving out without that silly poster of yours.

ayato picks it up, judging the man from head to his chest since that’s where the poster ends. he looks like a bergamot. that’s all, and ayato dumps the poster on the floor and leaves to take a shower.

it’s six in the evening.

you got drunk at two for absolutely no reason and passed out at your friend’s place. good for you, your hangover is evaporating. though, your head throbs like something else when you watch ayato in his silk robe after shower when he smells like the man you’d get on your knees for.

you don’t have high expectations this evening. it’s tuesday and ayato never returns on time when it’s tuesday. no he doesn’t drink and judging from how he’s always up at six on wednesdays, he doesn’t get laid either; which is actually good for you because you would never, ever, want any girl to sleep with your man, even though he isn’t yours.

you’re met with a pleasant surprise when you stand in front of your door with the keys in your hands, noticing that it’s already unlocked. perhaps, you can at least end your day with ayato in his finest attire. you smile, opening the door, your smile grows wider as you notice ayato’s shoes, it grows even wider when you smell freshly prepared creme pasta lingering in the air. you’re in for a ride. you step in further, eyes settling on your roommate who’s leaning against the kitchen counter with a wine glass in his hand— wait.

wait a damn minute.

wait a fucking second, that’s— ayato for sure— okay, you decide to take it from the bottom. that’s ayato wearing a silk pyjama, okay that’s new. new for you, maybe not for him, but you’re used to seeing him in silk robes with nothing beneath, you know, bare calves and feet. his toenails probably look prettier than yours. your eyes travel up further, completely leaving out the part you shouldn’t be thinking about especially when you’re still partly hungover, you see his abs— pause.

hold the fuck up, his abs? you blink, and look again, you stare at him for a better look. abs. fucking abs, you’re— but why abs?! no, you don’t complain. all you’ve ever seen is a part of his chest from the godsent chest window offered by his robes. nothing more, nothing below, not abs. never.

you— okay— you take a deep breath and process the situation. ayato is wearing the same silk robe, except it’s with pyjamas, however he didn’t tie it. he didn’t tie it, oh god— you’re watching kamisato ayato from the first seat, full access to his toned abs, you’re frothing at the mouth.

“welcome home, yn” silence. what. what. what the fuck did he say? no, ayato greets you everything but not like this. not in the seductive tone that makes your name sound a hundred times breathtaking and make you feel like you’re an empress to some crazy rich nation, not in a way where you can look at his abs, and he runs his fingers through his wet hairs before taking a sip from the wine. not in the sexy, knee weakening, voice that fills your brain with the visual depiction of ‘pregnant emoji’ over and over again.

you’re done. sold. dead. gone. mother of his kids, probably? you don’t mind because just when you thought you’re over your silly little crush on your roommate and ready to move out, he stands in front of you, looking like aphrodite’s son or just, aphrodite herself— except, this one’s male.

“yn, you okay there?” no no no, you’re not, you’re not. you’re not okay. you’re oscillating between having the time of your life and lying on your deathbed. it’s like you’re playing a quiz with your own mind where the first option is to die and the second option is to die as well. you’re— you’re failing to compose yourself and you’re sure if someone doesn’t drag you out of this, you will embarrass yourself horribly enough for you to dig a hole and decompose.

ayato chuckles. he chuckles. he has the audacity to chuckle at you after looking at that. does he even know about the effect he has on you? no, of course he doesn’t. he probably thinks it’s completely normal for him to stand in front of you, half naked, looking criminally hot; yeah no— someone needs to stop him.

“your face is red,” oh, i wonder why. “are you sick?” it’s such a rhetorical question, you’re not sure if he’s actually that innocent or whether he’s having fun teasing you like this. you nod, avoiding all sorts of eye contact and verbal conversation. you’ve figured out enough that if you open your mouth, it’ll get you in trouble. you’re bound to say something stupid, perhaps about how you want him to blow your back like a glowstick or something, or maybe you’d tell him to dress up and put on some clothes, despite the fact that you very much adore the scene in front of you right now, and make everything terribly awkward for the rest of your lives.

ayato smiles, putting his hand on your shoulder, and you feel several volts of electric current travelling down your spine. you’re getting butterflies, or perhaps the whole damn zoo with monkeys swinging off your ribs and vertebrates. you want to pass out. you want to faint right fucking now before something goes wrong because he’s standing right in front of you, and his hand is on your shoulder, and you’re getting a much much closer and clearer look at this toned muscles— you’re about to start barking.

“uh, i’ll go—” yes. leaving is the only option, the only correct option. exactly what you should do right now. gather your useless thoughts, run away, go to your room, take a cold shower, and don’t come out until ayato leaves for his classes the next day.

he smiles, taking his hand off your shoulder and you take a sign of relief. probably the best you’ve felt in months, really. “okay, i’ll set dinner.”

“i’m not hungry.”

“huh?”

“i’m not hungry, i feel sick. it’s uh— dysentery.” great. fucking marvelous. out of everything, it had to be dysentery.

“oh. do you need med—”

“no, i have benadryl.” you want to bang your head into the closest wall, want the ceiling to finally collapse, the tiles to break and take you inside. you just want to disappear because benadryl is a fucking cough syrup. you simply excuse yourself before he could ask anymore questions, hearing him suppress his laughter as you walk away. he probably knows you’re lying, doesn’t take a doctor to tell what a benadryl is; and you couldn’t thank him enough for pretending you’re absolutely right with the medications and letting you be.

you get inside your room, you shut the door, you lean against it and contemplate every decision you ever took in your life.

where did it go wrong?

was it the part when you moved in? damn, sure you should’ve moved out earlier. you should’ve ran away the day you saw a fine man like ayato standing in front of you, tagged as your roommate. you know you’d sell your soul or something for him, you are aware of the things you’d do for him, for ayato, because a man like him deserves the world. you should’ve moved out before your inner simp had started channelling herself.

you grab your clothes and decide to sit in the shower until you prune up and die. that’s probably the only right decision. you’re about to get inside the bathroom when you hear the doorbell, halting your steps as you hear footsteps approaching inside.

“hi,” that. that’s a woman. a lady, a female human, you didn’t think ayato would be capable of being friends with any other woman beside you and kujou sara.

now judging from the low, scarred intensity of the voice that’s reaching your ears, you can tell she’s a pretty woman. pretty like those campus crushes but in your head, she’s pretty like those main antagonists of some melodramatic television show that make you want to strangle her to death with every breath she takes. you don’t even know her but the way your fist clenches, it’s definitely jealousy piping out of you like candies from pez dispensers.

“i’m sorry for last night,” last— last what? “we can continue.”

continue what.

no. no fuck, you can’t.

if this is about what your rotten brain is thinking about then there’s no way they can continue. you’re here, in your room, the walls around aren’t soundproof and you aren’t ready for whatever obscene act they’re going to pull in his room, or perhaps in the living room because the woman seems to have zero patience.

“my roommate is here,” that’s ayato. yes. you nod in approval. tell her ayato. tell her to gather up her fantasies and desires and get he fuck out of your apartment. “hope you don’t mind.”

what.

of course, you mind. you didn’t sign up for some real life porn show when signing the papers for this apartment. moreover, you’re not stable and mentally, physically or emotionally strong enough to stand all the moans and groans that’ll fill up the room when he’ll do everything that you want him to do with you, and you’re thinking this with all your soberness.

“oh, she can join us! the more, the merrier.” no, never. you don’t want to join them in their silly little adventure. you’re not in for some monstrous threesome, as amazing as it sounds. you still have to live with ayato for around twenty-eight days and you can’t just join the two of them tonight and wake up the next day as if nothing ever happened.

you’re insane, but the sane part is still functional. your last two lovely, worn out brain cells are working day and night to keep you alive, successfully having you avoid all the pits of embarrassment and shame, you can not let them down.

you don’t hear ayato’s response, or perhaps, you want to pretend you didn’t. because you definitely heard something along the lines of ‘bend over,’ and then he cues some music.

it’s sway by michael buble. out of all the testosterone stimulating sex songs out there, ayato had to choose this. well, it doesn't change the fact that she’s living the life you’ve been dreaming for, ever since ayato moved in. you’re fucking glad the song is loud enough to block any R-rated sounds or else you would’ve suffered a trauma and piss your pants everytimes someone brings up sex the next time in your life.

you’re on your bed, covering your ears with your pillows, trying to sleep, while she’s in his arms, doing the deed. funny, very funny. is there a chance you would have completely misinterpreted the entire situation? maybe. but no woman randomly shows up at a man’s house after seven in the evening and the first thing she asks is to continue their last night activities.

you wish your ears would fall off and you’d forget everything you heard tonight. the sound of music isn’t helping you sleep and you can waltz to ayato and ask him to turn down the volume in middle of whatever the fuck they’re doing and infect your eyes and lose your virginity along with the last bits of your sanity, but you don’t have the balls to do so.

you don’t have the balls to do anything. maybe if you did, you would’ve told ayato about your feelings and maybe, tonight, it would’ve been you instead of that woman. so you just do what you can : bury yourself inside the covers and try to sleep.

maybe if you ignore it, it will go away.

waking up, you realise you haven’t had any sleep in the past twenty-four hours or so. maybe you did, thirty minutes, or so. that doesn’t count when all you’ve heard last night are some horribly weird sex songs and phrases like, ‘that feels so good,’ and other things along the same lines whenever the music stopped.

you looked at yourself in the mirror and almost passed out at the sight. horrible, literally. failing valak from the conjuring universe. actually, you can be the new valak except you’ll have real, actual, trauma and reason to haunt people.

what surprises you more is that you haven’t come out of your room since last evening and ayato didn’t even check up on you. not like he’s obliged to, but he must. despite the fact that he was probably having the best night of his life, he should have morals as a human who cares about another human; or, as a roommate, because what if you fell from bed and broke your back? what if you got stuck in a chair and died of poor circulation? he probably doesn’t care. you’re pretty sure he’ll call the woman from last night the moment he finds your body and they’ll dance and sing on your grave; maybe, even fuck around it too.

you want to get out of your room and go to the kitchen. you want to eat. but you’re scared the pair from last night would be passed out naked on the floor— nah, you’re not ready for that scene at seven in the morning. and this wouldn’t have been another issue to worry about if only ayato showed a little more patience and compassion and took her to his room.

well, you have to survive. there’s a harsher world out there.

you open the door and creep out of your room as if you’ve been meaning to steal something. you’re acting like this isn’t your apartment but the apartment of someone you’ve stolen a couple million dollars from. oh, and your eyes are closed. yeah. you’re not ready, not ready at all. you’d rather bump and fall and hit your head, die on spot; that'd be way better—

“oh, you’re up,” that’s a familiar voice. you’re sure, you look crazy standing in front of your room with your eyes closed, but that’s for another day. the main question is whether you should open your eyes or not. “you didn’t come out for dinner, i was waiting.”

your eyes shoot open.

okay. okay…

so, he’s not naked. thankfully, he’s dressed. fully dressed, in a white shirt with a top few buttons undone, black jeans or trousers, whatever they are. you miss the chest window, but you’re glad he’s dressed because you don’t certainly want to look at the scratches and marks from last night and add more trauma to your life.

“i told you, i had dysentery,” as if he believes you. the look on his face tells he doesn’t. no one would, you ruin things for yourself.

as expected, ayato is a goddamn liar. the ‘i was waiting,’ part sounds so fake now that you’re aware of what happened last night. because waiting while fucking someone doesn’t sound like waiting to you. more or less, it sounds like he was devouring his dinner while you were starving in your room.

“did you not sleep last night?” oh, yeah, of course not. he’s getting there, slowly, but he is getting to the point. you wonder who’s to be blamed for your lack of sleep and the reason why you woke up with only one living and semi-functional brain cell. “ah, is it because of me? was it too loud last night? i was busy.”

busy? yeah, he was busy working really hard blowing someone’s back or whatever. sounds like a tough job, but that’s none of your business. ( actually, it is ) you don’t want to have this conversation. you don’t know how to look him in the eyes. ayato, your roommate, your crush, he rocked someone else’s world while he knew you were in the apartment, probably hearing everything. for someone who’s rich enough to be featured in crazy rich asians, ayato surely does work a lot, and hard enough, at that.

you want to murder him. chop off his limbs and also the part he’s probably very proud of. you want to shave his head so that no girl approaches him in the future.

“oh, you probably don’t know about my work, do you?” no. you don’t want to. you don’t want to hear about the details, you’re not ready for this conversation. “i help my mom with physiotherapy,”

yes. yes therapy, sounds lovely. everyone needs it, especially him. wait, therapy? what kind of therapy is sex? well, it is some sort of therapy by the way, it makes you feel at ease— no, you’re swerving away from the topic ! okay, maybe you didn’t hear him correctly. he clearly said psychotherapy and he needs to get his licence revoked for the kind of therapy he is giving. it’s giving rise to more mental patients; you, for example.

“therapy?” you mutter, you didn’t mean to. you need to learn how to keep your thoughts to yourself, you lack severely in that department of life.

“yes, therapy for joints and bones? my mother is a physiotherapist and she taught me a thing or two,” oh. oh. physiotherapy. is that why he asked her to bend over? what was the need to put on music, though? you don’t understand ayato. actually, you don’t understand anyone in the kamisato family even though you’ve only met his sister so far.

now, you feel guilty for thinking about him in that light. apart from the potential visual representations of ayato from last night in your head, you have a very high respect for this man. you feel like you should get on your knees and apologise, offer a hand-written apology letter for thinking of him in such a non-PG-13 manner.

though, you don’t know how to apologise. you can’t possibly go ‘sorry, ayato, i thought you were busy having the best sex of your life when you were actually providing her therapy.’ that doesn’t even sound right. it makes you look like you need therapy, urgently. but you need to apologise for your sake. maybe, this is just the consequences of your actions or in this case, your imagination.

“i’m—” you open your mouth to speak, but ayato beats you to it.

“do you want to go out with me today?”

wait, what?

do what now?

go out with who?

it’s a question that catches you off guard, pushes off off the cliff, stops your heart. the monkeys in your stomach are alive again even though they suffer from utter embarrassment and guilt for assuming all sorts of things about ayato, and the perfect man he is.

you want to say yes. of course, no one in their right mind would reject such a golden opportunity to ride in his Bugatti La Voiture Noire that’s worth 18.7 million dollars as of when he purchased it. you remember you have a terminal disease where you spot one toned muscle and sell your conscience to whatever demon is out there. even though you don’t see any toned muscles, you see ayato’s collar bones thanks to those few undone buttons, you see the nerves of his arms thanks to the rolled up sleeves, you see him wearing an apron because he was making breakfast, what a malewife.

you’re sold, almost.

almost.

the offer is tempting, but your new apartment is more. you’re an adult and it's a fact even if you don’t want to believe it and want to become a cat who solely lives for aesthetic purposes. you need to earn for yourself and move out of this apartment instead of living in a hell just to fill a void called ayato in your heart.

“i have to go take a look at how the work at my new apartment is going,” you’re surprised at how sane and normal your response sounds. it’s truly concerning after everything that has happened since last evening and the trash that’s residing in your head.

you try your best to sound apologetic. you are, you really are, you’re missing out on ayato and his Bugatti La Voiture Noire of $18.7 millions, the one that people ( aka, you ) drool over every time they pass by. it’s an expensive sacrifice, literally and metaphorically, worth more than your life.

“well, that sucks,” ayato sighs, removing the apron in the most seducing way possible, proceeding to run his fingers through his hairs, looking like a mouth-watering, melt in the mouth, sizzling pork at seven-thirty in the morning. “i had plans for us,”

and you’re floored.

us. you like the sound of that. you and ayato, ayato and you, hot. very hot, very sexy, sounds like an eargasm, honestly. for a second, you think it’s a dream. it has to be. if not, then maybe he wants to take you to a shrine or something and have you cleansed from top to bottom for all the r-rated thoughts you’ve been having. but, that’s only possible if ayato has an idea of what’s going on inside your head. there’s no way he knows that, or maybe he does. you look at him like he’s the happy meal and you haven’t eaten in a good five-hundred years or so.

you’re too lost in your thoughts to focus on ayato until he leans in a bit closer, alerting every single neuron in your body as he shoots you a smirk, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “have fun, pretty.”

and here lies yn, twenty something, majoring in one of the available majors offered by her university. cause of death: kamisato ayato.

ayato lets out a desperate cry of help, sliding down the walls of thoma’s living room as soon as he enters thoma’s apartment, scaring the living shit out of his friends.

“go die somewhere else.” that’s sara again. you can’t blame her, she follows thoma like a pest because he’s a good cook, that’s it. food above everything else.

thoma walks to the entrance, sighing at the sight of his friend lying on the floor, dejected and lifeless, looking pale, running the beauty of thoma’s luxurious apartment tiled with granite floors. if it weren’t for his morals, he would’ve trashed ayato.

“i feel like a whore,” sara’s face scrunches up in disgust. maybe, judging from the way ayato talks about you, he is a whore. if not a whore, then something equivalent to it. “never knew i’d have to do this.”

sara leans against the wall that ayato just slid down out of pure despair. “do what?”

“seduce yn.” thoma practically pukes out all the water from his mouth at his friend’s words. “what, you both told me to do so!”

sara doesn’t believe his words. they say love is blind, but in this case it’s also ignorant and incapable of following the wise and helpful instructions provided. “how the fuck have you been seducing her?”

“um, with my skills?”

“don’t tell me.” the disappointment, in thoma’s voice, is astronomical. who would’ve thought that kamisato ayato, the heir to kamisato estate, excels in the art of idiocy. god really said he can either have looks or brains, and completely missed out on the latter. “ayato, i talked about cooking and cleaning and your homekeeping skills and not about your talents in bed.”

oh.

that’s right.

even though all ayato did was fluster you a little this morning— see, he’s disregarding what happened last evening. ayato assumes you’re used to seeing him half naked in his silk robe, with his drenched hair while he smells like primroses and sandalwood and everything else that’s featured in Dior’s men perfume collection. he thinks it’s normal. it’s his apartment, he gets to wear whatever he wants and make himself comfortable.

he doesn’t know what bed skills tho— wait, bed? skills? talent in bed? what? what? he’s not even marginally close to what thoma is thinking; and ayato is sure that he needs to get new friends before it’s too late.

“what ‘talents in bed’ are you even talking about?” ayato asks, finally standing up from the floor like the kamisato he is and slumping on the couch.

thoma deadpans. “do you seriously want me to elaborate?” no, probably not. never. thoma has experience in this field, you see, and ayato, as someone who has never even thought about this, doesn’t want him to explain and give details about every single move and curve— no.

ayato chooses his sanity over human reproductive knowledge.

“i— nothing happened, nothing! all i did was ask if she wanted to go out with me and,” he pauses, eyes travelling between thoma and sara simultaneously. the latter raises her eyebrows, gesturing to him to continue his precautionary tale about how to not treat your roommate. “and, and i might’ve flirted with her, a little, yeah.”

the embarrassment is evident in his voice.

ayato wants to liquify and evaporate. he wants thoma’s house to break down and kill everyone and him too. he wants the microwave to blast, just anything, anything that could save him from this conversation. now, flirting isn’t that bad in itself. it’s good, it’s fun, ayaka flirts with yoimiya when her inner lesbian unleashes itself. sara flirts with shogun for some goddamn reason and everyone thinks they have a thing or two going on because no one dares to talk to ei. itto flirts with himself in the mirror— it’s normal, completely, absolutely, certainly, normal-er than normal. normal-est.

ayato, however, doesn’t flirt. he doesn’t know how to flirt. the leisure art of flirting is beyond the luxuries this specific kamisato can afford. the last time he hit on someone was a cat, not even his ex-girlfriend, a cat. a feline. it scratched him. ayato refrains from flirting to avoid all sorts of innuendos—

a pause. the innuendos, the fucking innuendos, oh god. what if, what if you get the wrong idea? well, thoma and sara assumed that he has been trying to get laid with you so it only makes sense for you to assume the same after all that half-naked, bare-chested, sexy-wine-sipping, jazz last evening.

no no no—

he’s done. he’s done.

over.

if there’s someone who should move out, it’s him.

this life ruining emotionally stressing psychologically mortifying realisation makes him want to jump down the nearest window and pass out, then never wake up. he wants to trip on air and die of mesothelioma, wants to overdose on sparkling water and die of negativity in his life.

if he doesn’t die, he wishes for the earth to explode or something so that everyone else dies and humanity comes to an end. his day has been ruined, his disappointment and shame is immeasurable. kazuha better be ready to have an adopted brother because ayato is damn sure the kamisatos are kicking him out after this.

ayato doesn’t wait for his friends to say something. he simply walks out of thoma’s apartment, dejected in shame, hoping lighting will strike him in broad daylight on a day with clear skies. you’re not home, that’s great. you won’t be back anytime before evening because you’re out with your friends. no, actually, you’re out with miko and the new transfer students beidou and venti, who you are bound to get drunk and pass out with.

that’s good, it’s great. a godsent opportunity. there are two possibilities: first, either you come home remembering everything and move out the very next day or second, you forget everything thanks to alcohol. he hopes it’s the second one. alcohol does wonders water could never. those two molecules of hydrogen and one molecule of oxygen don’t do shit when it comes to forgetting memories. alcohol, on the other hand, is capable of doing miracles.

like the time he got home downright wasted and almost kissed you senseless while you were helping him clean up. he can swear, he saw the blush on your cheeks. but maybe, that was just fatigue since you had to wake up at two to deal with him.

yeah, alcohol, a godly drink.

he reaches home, grabs a beer can from the refrigerator and makes himself comfortable on the couch. ayato wants to forget everything, hoping you’d forget it all too.

“ayato,” you whisper his name, shaking his shoulders gently in an attempt to wake him up. not like you want to, the sight of him sleeping soundly is healing you and washing off your sins. one does not see the kamisato ayato sleeping on the couch with flushed cheeks because of drinks and a shirt that’s almost half-a-way undone everyday.

it’s a godly sight. a scenery. mother nature could never. you genuinely want to thank his parents for the masterpiece they have created.

you shouldn’t sit next to the couch and gawk at him while he’s sleeping. that’s creepy. what if he wakes up? imagine waking up to your roommate staring at you with the utmost attention. creepy, and moreover, you wouldn’t be able to face him.

but again, he looks like the man you’d like to have as your boyfriend. scratch that, your husband, if not more. as if, anything more remains, but whatever. you smile, it’s a chuckle. you chuckle. you chuckle out loud, hand flying to your mouth immediately, hoping he doesn’t wake up.

you reach out for his face, tracing his nose as superficially as possible, a faint gasp escaping your lips as he shifts a little. great. you have woken him up. his eyes flutter open and you quickly compose yourself, leaning away from him as you realise about the close proximity between him and you.

ayato groans as he turns to his right, eyes landing on you sitting on the floor right next to him, eyes wide open like a deer caught in the headlights. a second passes, you’re okay. the next second, you’re not.

you’re panicking.

you’re experiencing all sorts of emotions at once because ayato just woke up and he probably knows you’ve been sitting here, watching him sleep for god knows how long. time is a social construct either way, who the fuck cares— okay, you’re swaying from the topic once again. and not to mention he looks extremely hot with messed up hair and those flushed cheeks. you’re barely composing yourself.

did you mention that ayato has excellent facial features? he looks even more stunning up close. you know you should get up and walk away. hide yourself inside your room, live in solitary confinement for the rest of your life, or at least till ayato is around. but you don’t, because you’re staring at ayato, and he’s staring back at you. it’s like you’ve frozen in your place, you’re pretty sure you’d forgotten to breathe, if that even makes sense?

“hi,” he mutters, whispers, in his godly, eargasmic voice, and you feel like you’re hearing melodies of careless whisper ringing in your ears.

no, you’re not sitting on the floor anymore. you stand up, pretending nothing ever happened, as if you didn’t stare at him sleeping and continued to stare for five solid minutes even after he had woken up. a very reliable solution, playing pretend always proves to be useful.

“you can wash up, i’ll prepare the hangover soup,” you mutter, making your way to the kitchen, hearing him shuffle on the couch as he sits straight. ayato doesn’t remember a lot from the events that happened prior to your arrival, yet, which is fantastic. marvels of alcohol, everyone.

“don’t go,” he mumbles, and you stop on your way. “don’t move out,” ayato doesn’t think before speaking, he never does. he doesn’t trust himself. he said you’re just a roommate, nothing less, nothing more, but he has been devastated ever since you told him you’ll be moving out. maybe, that was all a lie. maybe, this isn’t just platonical. maybe, you have always been a little more than just a roommate to ayato.

it’s like the fireworks are going off all around you. you’re still processing his words, wondering if he really means them because in the end, he’s drunk. partially, completely, he is drunk. and you can never trust alcohol and its consequences.

so, you simply decide to play along, hoping he won't remember this conversation the next day. “is there a reason for me to stay?”

“i am,” another quick reply, and you’re losing your mind. it’s like the ground beneath you is shaking. your heart is accelerating so fast, you’re scared it’ll come out of your chest. it’s not your first time witnessing a drunk ayato who has gone batshit crazy, but it is your first time having him look at you with an expression you’ve never seen on his face before. at least not with regards to you.

he sighs, getting up from the couch before making his way towards you with every step increasing your already racing heartbeat. and before you know it, he’s already standing in front of you, barely a few inches apart as he cups your face, eyes settling on your lips. “please remind me if i forget any of this tomorrow,”

rest all feels like a dream because ayato, your roommate, the guy you’ve had a crush on ever since he moved in, the man you’d bark for— not literally, maybe, is kissing you. he’s not just kissing you, he’s kissing you, as in literally slotting his lips against yours, pulling you closer with every second that passes. he’s kissing you like the world will end tomorrow and even if it does, you don’t mind. you don’t fucking mind if the house burns to ashes and a truck runs you over the very next day because this is everything you’ve wished for in past two months ( you know, besides having a place with better living conditions to call house )

“ayato—” no he doesn’t let you speak. instead, he nibbles on your lips, soft gasps for air twirling in between as he frames you against the kitchen counter. no, this isn’t your first kiss. you’ve had relationships, but nothing compares to this moment. no other kiss compares to how he’s kissing you and how it feels like you’re on an amusement park ride where the adrenaline gets the best of you and suddenly, you’re drowning between pleasure and thrill.

that is what kissing ayato is like.

it’s like going to heaven and back in just the way his hands ghost up your cheeks and slot them against your waist, your hands wrapping around his neck as his tongue slightly brushes against your bottom lips, and without a second thought, you let it in. kissing ayato is like gravitating towards a black hole, it’s like lying at the rock bottom and falling even deeper. you’re not sure if you should be doing this right now, especially when he’s drunk, but the taste of alcohol against your tongue inhibits your thought process, allowing your feelings to get the best of you.

he pulls away, lips brushing against yours as you lean in to capture them in another kiss, only for him to retract. needless to say, it leaves you a little embarrassed. ayato cups your cheeks once again, making you look into his eyes with his warm breath fanning on your face. “i love you,” that’s all he says before navigating his lips to yours once again.

you’re not sure if you heard him right. of course, you did. you have a good sense of hearing and there’s no way you’re missing such an important detail, but— love, you don’t know how sober that is. you don’t know how much of this kiss, and every sensation that you’re sharing with each other, is genuine. you don’t know how sober ayato is, you don’t know whether this is because of the alcohol or if he actually loves you. so, you put his hands on his chest, pushing him away as he stares at you with an expression ranging between confusion and heartbreak.

you kiss the inside of his palms, shooting him a sweet smile, before walking into your room. “say that again when you’re sober.”

note two. hello if you made it this far im in love you and sending you all the, uh, things that you like ?? probably ?? yeah. trust me, i never knew i'd end up writing a 10,310 words long fic about ayato and reader simping over each other, in around five hours, two days before my english exam. but this had to be done. i had the rough draft in my keep ever since i made my genshin acc ( hi hi to people who remember my nezlys era ) i had to elaborate. i hope you liked this ?? not the kind of writing you want to see or even write, when this is your first post for a fandom but c'mon. it's about ayato. i had to do this for ayato in silk robe when he's freshly out of shower smelling like primroses and sandalwood and everything else from Dior's men perfume collection

send an ask to join my genshin taglist !

#prod. — caelin.#album. — genshin.#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin impact scenarios #kamisato ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #ayato imagines #ayato scenarios #genshin x you #ayato x you #from. — mtr !

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krislgfox · 2 months

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Ahem, I made another one. This time it's a hero SC oc :_]

(Putting watermark cus my arts getting reposted without credits)

(Templet by @localgremlinenthusiest)

And here's true mascot monster form for @whyiliketitantvman

Two versions

Sword as pendant and as weapon

Dop info:

-Grey spots is his scars

-DragonJoy's cousin(as I writed)

-Became a hero when he was 27(in critters age he was 7) years old

-Glows a little in the dark

-Emotionless

-Dominate,manipulative,cunning, tall, nice and strong(no mater in which way) foxes is his and DragonJoy's type

-He usually feels happy only around DragonJoy

-A little over protective towards his cousin

-(If he would ever cry) his tears are literally golden color

-His the tallest among other critters(in every form)

Dop arts:

As I said he's emotionless, but it doesn't mean that he can't faking emotions or showing fellings

Also, yep, when he fell strong positive emotions feelings he starts sparkle :]

When he feels negative emotions feelings, like anger, his scars began to glow neon yellow

Embracing is like a mix of positive and negative emotions feelings so his cheek scars began to glow and he began to sparkle

Lore stuff:

As I said, he lost his emotions and became a hero when he was, in critters age, 7 years old, but no one knows how. Well, actually, almost no one. DragonJoy is the one who knows how all this happens, but he refused to tell. That's why I'm here :]

That's all happened in DragonJoys and Golden Sparks first meet

It was autumn, and DragonJoy's dad decided to introduce his son to his brother. After arriving there, DJ immediately gets along with GS, and they both was already playing in the GS's garden while adults was talking

Eventually, both GS and DJ, didn't notice how they got in the forest and incidentally split up. DJ was trying to find GS, while Golden Spark, due his curiosity nature, started studying a forest he'd never visited before

After a few minutes that seemed like hours, GS've already decided to look for a way out of the forest, but he noticed a strange and alluring glow. His curiosity takes control over him again, and he went to this glow

When he got closer, he saw a big gray stone from which this glow was coming. This glow made GS want to touch this stone and see what would happen, but his inner self was saying not to do it, but the child's curiosity winned again, he began to slowly reach for the stone, and at the same moment, DJ's close voice began to be heard from behind the trees

A second, touch, increasing fell of pain in his arms, followed by a scream and the voice of a cousin who managed to run up to him and started asking him what happened. It all got mixed up in GS's head, he didn't understand what was going on, the only thing he understood was that his whole face felt like burning from within, that his head started to hurt, as if he was being hit with a hammer, and his hands seemed to be dipped in boiling water. In all this fellings he noticed that the stone disappeared

After that GS felt dizzy, and he eventually lost consciousness in his cousin's arms. DJ got scared, he immediately picked up his cousin and ran to the exit from the forest that he had found while he was looking for GS

When GS wake up, he felt nothing, like his emotions was deleted. He also noticed that he now have a pendant, second pack of wings(yes,before touching stone he had only two wings), that he's hands is now grey and he has some grey lines

After couple weeks, he started training with his new sword and the powers that he found in himself. While training he noticed some little critter that was running away from someone and definitely needed help. GS didn't know why he wanted to help this critter, but he knows that he need to do it, so he immediately started flying after this critter

After he caught up with this critter, he noticed that some, seemingly, bandits had trapped the poor kid in the cave and were clearly trying to rob him. GS feelt angry, that he didn't even noticed how he was already standing on one of the bandits and was looking at this little critter

Critter was shocked but impressed, critter thanked him for his rescue and, fleeting introducing himself by the name "Folierx", ran away from the cave in an unknown for GS direction

GS didn't understand what just happened, and what was he feeling(this dude falls in love fr), but at this moment he promised himself that he will helping every critter no matter what

Damn, I didn't write so much in my entire life °-°

Sorry if there's mistakes or illogical stuff, it's my first time writing almost full characters story :_]

#poppy playtime #smiling critters #smiling critters poppy playtime #smiling critters oc #golden spark #my oc #my oc lore #my character #my characters lore #my art #my drawing #my design #don't repost #only reblog

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deputyrook · 6 months

Text

Impressions- 2/? Mark Hoffman x Psychic!Reader

(Repost after I accidentally deleted my tumblr 😭)

PART 1.

You're a reluctant psychic. He's a detective. And a serial killer.

(Can I make it any more obvious?)

Word count: 3498

WARNINGS: Gaslightling, corruption, stockholm syndrome, some drug use (painkillers), blackmail, power imbalance, abusive dynamics, overt threatening, general Saw-levels of horror.

this fic is kind of goofy, because I'm writing it for fun and not taking it super seriously! enjoy 💕

“Mark didn’t hit on you, did he?” Kerry asks over the phone, a note of disgust in her voice, “If he did, I’ll kick his ass. Though… you didn't exactly look uncomfortable when you fell into his arms yesterday. Am I wrong?”

Sometimes, you wondered how Kerry could be so oblivious.

You swallow a handful of painkillers before you answer her, washing them down with a swig of stale soda that’s been sitting out on your counter.

“He's, what, ten years older than us?” You ask, setting down the can and playing with the cord of your telephone.

“That’s not an answer,” Kerry teases, “And he’s early forties, I think. Hey, I won’t stop you. I'll sure as hell judge you, but I won't stop you.”

The events of the prior evening feel surreal now, in the morning light of the next day. Detective Mark Hoffman hasn’t contacted you, and if you didn’t have his phone number saved in your cell, you would have thought the entire car ride had been a bad dream.

You can’t help but second guess yourself now- had he ever actually admitted to being an accomplice? What if he was just a defensive asshole, and you’d misinterpreted everything again? The doubts creep in, now that your visions have been chased away, back into hiding in the recesses of your mind.

“Not interested,” you mutter. “I wasn’t feeling great last night, you know that. I barely remember getting home.”

Kerry’s tone sobers at that, and you hear her sigh. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I know you don’t like doing that, but we were completely out of leads.”

“And you still are,” you note, “I didn’t dream of anything useful last night, by the way. Total void.” If you’re lucky, you’ll never have another vision about the Jigsaw murders, though you suspect you’ve been plunged headfirst into the thick of it.

The painkillers will keep the flashes at bay, at least for now. The rest will come to you, jumbled and nonsensical, when it’s least convenient.

“Not entirely. But how are you feeling?” Kerry asks. She’s never been the best at heart-to-hearts, or at fielding your psychic nonsense, but you can hear the genuine concern in her voice for you. You wish you could tell her- the killer she hunts is right there, in the office across the hall, she could be in danger- but with the potential risk to both her and you, it’s just not worth it.

Not unless you manage to get your hands on some hard evidence of Hoffman’s involvement.

Years of dealing with a surrealist-nightmare-kaleidoscope for a brain had forced you to become patient. You could bide your time and wait carefully until an opportunity to steal some actual proof arose. Until then, you just had to keep breathing.

“Helloooo? Are you there?” Kerry’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry Ally. You know how I get. I called in sick today, but I’m alright. I promise. Nothing some rest and relaxation can’t fix,” you try to smile, but you can’t hide the exhaustion in your voice.

“Good,” she says, resolute, “I won’t ask you to come in again. Not unless something else comes to you. But I won’t believe he’s dead. Not yet.” It doesn’t take psychic abilities to know she’s talking about Eric Matthews, nor to feel the regret she carries with her, punctuating her words.

“And you shouldn’t. You know my hit rate on alive-versus-dead isn’t always the best.” Kerry hums in consideration at your words, and after you both say your goodbyes to one another, you hang up the receiver of the phone.

Once again, you’re left in the silence of your lonely apartment- save for your cat, who brushes up against your leg with a purr. He reminds you so easily that it’s not just your life on the line, here. Would Jigsaw ever try to test a cat...? Reaching down to scratch behind his ears, you try to consider your next steps carefully.

But all it does is make your head hurt. You pluck an ice pack from your freezer and lay down on your sofa, holding it to your head with a soft groan.

You must fall back asleep at some point, because you’re woken up from a dreamless sleep by the ringing of your phone. You check your home phone, and then, realizing it’s not the culprit, rifle through your bag for your cell.

“Hello?” You mumble into the phone as you flip it open, blinking awake.

“What, were you asleep? It’s the middle of the day,” Hoffman says.

“I called in sick. Got in pretty late last night, and I didn’t sleep the best,” You deadpan. Without being right next to him, it’s easier to keep your cool and not get flustered.

“We should talk. Let’s get dinner,” he says, “Six-o-clock. You know Eve’s Diner? On Newhaven street- with the neon sign?”

Your stomach drops. It didn’t seem like he was just asking you out politely. When was the last time you got dinner with a man, anyway? His tone is so casual that it makes you want to squirm.

“Yeah, I know the place. It's pretty close by, right?” At least in public, he wouldn’t be able to do anything overtly threatening to you. It didn’t seem like there was any use in arguing with him, or telling him you weren’t feeling up to it. He knows your address, and he apparently knows Jigsaw. That's enough to secure your compliance.

“Good. I’ll see you there, then.” And he hangs up the phone.

Your head throbs, but it’s lessened in severity since the morning. You consider taking another batch of painkillers, but decide against it. If you’re meeting Hoffman for dinner, it might be better to stay sharp.

—

The sight of Mark Hoffman, sitting in a diner booth, would be almost comical if it wasn’t so nerve-wracking. He’s stirring some sugar into his coffee, hunched against the wall, his hair smoothed back neatly and his police badge hanging around his neck. He looks tired, you think, but otherwise like a normal, upstanding member of society- if not one slightly too large and too dour for the diner table he’s seated at.

“Hi,” you say, sliding into the booth across from him.

He nods toward you in recognition, before leaning back in the seat. Mark looks at you, up and down, in silent surveyance. You stare back, studying him in return. Both of you size each other up, like the other is the dangerous one.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” He says, “And after some more thought, I’m not convinced. For all I know, maybe you’re workin’ with John Kramer. That seems more likely than you being psychic.”

Ah. You’ve gotten this reaction before. When someone, with time and consideration, doubles back to doubt your abilities. You couldn’t exactly blame him for that. Particularly for skeptics, it’s a hard pill to swallow that you have access to senses that they don’t.

Being accused of being a serial killer was new territory, however.

“I’m not working with Jigsaw,” you sputter, keeping your voice quiet. The diner isn’t too busy, and you’re seated in a corner away from other patrons, but it’s still public enough that you want to be careful. “Shouldn’t you know I’m not?”

He squints at you, like he’s trying to figure out if you’re lying or not.

“You tell me. You said there were four. Jigsaw, Amanda, myself- according to you- and so who’s the fourth? If it’s not you.” He sounds impatient. You blink at him, trying to process where he’s coming from. And then, it hits you. He doesn’t know.

For a second, you consider trying to play it off like you are the fourth apprentice. Maybe then, he’d trust you more directly with information that you could use against him. But then, you re-evaluate. Lying to a mass murderer was probably a bad idea. Lying to a cop was arguably worse.

“Well, it’s not me. But yeah, there’s at leastfour involved that I picked up on. Four main...signatures,” You pause, before continuing. “So that’s why you want me to tell you about what I sense. Even you don’t know what he’s planning, or everyone who’s involved.”

“I’ve been on this case since the beginning. Of course I wanna know. Especially since you’re out here accusing me,” He remarks, taking a sip of his coffee before continuing, “Kerry didn’t act any different toward me this morning. Good. Keeping your theories to yourself was smart.”

“Yes, lest you start actually convincing me you’re not Jigsaw, let me not forget how you threatened me last night,” You mumble, crossing your arms in front of your chest protectively.

“You pouting about it?” He asks, teasing, a smirk just barely edging onto his face, “C’mon. Show me your trick. How do you do it?” He beckons you closer, and you find yourself leaning in across the table. Like you’re sharing a secret with him.

“It’s not like I’m getting visions of the future, per se,” You try to explain, “It’s more like... hyper intuition. I get emotions, mostly. It’s an extreme version of empathy. Sometimes I get flashes of imagery from the past, present, and future, but it’s usually mixed up so I can’t tell which is which. Mainly, I just trust my gut. Which isn’t often wrong- but my interpretation of what I’m seeing can be off. Has been.”

“Hyper-intuition, huh?” He says, mulling it over, “Tell me something else about me, then. Prove it.”

You swallow uncomfortably. “I uh, need to be touching you.”

Mark raises his eyebrows at you. Before he can say anything mocking, the waitress comes by, filling both of your coffee cups. She takes your orders quickly, as though picking up on the vibe that you both want to be left alone. When she leaves, Mark spreads his hands in a gesture as if to say, do your thing, then.

Gently, you reach out and take his hands in yours. Rough, calloused, and strong. You try not to think about it as you close your eyes, and allow the gate to open for the second time in two days.

The chattering in the diner fades away into the background as your intuition takes hold, clouding out your other five senses like the moon passing over the sun in a total eclipse. First, there’s just darkness. Even the sensation of Mark’s skin against yours fading to a dull buzz. Then, sensations begin to spawn, bubbling up from somewhere else.

From the man seated across from you, you think.

“Strawberries,” you murmur, the taste of fresh, wild berries being the first thing that comes to you, sweet and tart, “I think they were picked wild, by mindful fingers. Yours are older, but never as gentle. Her small hands were always more careful than yours, never crushing the berries like you did.”

It’s a kind, well-loved memory -you assume- the impression coming in easy and unambiguous. The next is more muddled.

“Ah- pain. There’s noise, it’s discordant and loud,” You wince, squeezing Mark’s hands. You tilt your head, trying to make out the source, but all you get is scraps of yelling, fighting, shivering hands, the smell of rain.

It melts then, into that feeling again. The deep, unending well of misery. Loss, in its purest form. Utter loneliness, vast like an unending ocean.

“It’s like the sun went out,” you whisper, voice cracking. Your heart is breaking. The depth of your pain is nearly unbearable, and it makes you want to pull back and disconnect. “It’s like all the light’s been snuffed from this world. Alone.”

“Yeah,” Mark’s voice confirms, calm, quiet and sombre, “You know why that is, don’t you?”

You frown, hands trembling. The smell of blood rises, pungent and sickening. Blood, blood, so much blood. It smells so strong that you can taste it. Then something else- formaldehyde. The words leave your mouth before you can register what they mean.

“He took her from me,” You murmur hoarsely, a pure conduit for the feeling. Dimly, you’re aware of hands squeezing yours back, too tight.

Then, the rage. The despair. An energy trapped, like a feral animal in an enclosure. Desperate to make things right again, to make the world right, with no way to do it that makes sense.

Trapped, trapped, trapped. Starving. Alone again.

You’re lost in the feeling before Mark’s voice pulls you back.

“He deserved what he got,” he says, and you’re redirected. The sun is still gone, the world is still cold. Justice is a fleeting concept, a principle that isn’t achieved until you make it happen.

The world is so cold without the sun, but he died screaming for taking her. That’s justice enough.

And then, a finality- a sense of purpose.

"They all deserve it," you say.

You open your eyes, and let go of his hands. Hoffman’s expression is hard to read as you settle back in the booth. The despair still lingers over you, like a chill that’s seeped into your bones.

“That your thought, or mine?” He asks finally. “You must have felt a lot of it over the years. Other people’s pain.”

“Sure,” you reply, “Everyone’s got it. Life isn’t fair.”

“Not unless you make it fair,” Mark counters, “You can’t tell me he didn’t deserve to die like that for what he did.”

“Can you just tell me?” You ask quietly, “So I can get the full picture, no missing pieces of the puzzle. The loss...was your sister? He killed her?”

Mark thinks about it for a second. He looks like he’s going to refuse you, not responding for so long that you wonder if he’s deliberately ignoring you.

Your food arrives before he answers, the waitress bringing your plates and setting them down in front of you both. Mark's ordered a cheeseburger and fries, the all-American classic diner food; you a club sandwich, though your appetite has evaporated since you've arrived here. And after yesterday, it was barely present to begin with.

Then finally, after you both have started to eat, he speaks.

“My sister’s ex-boyfriend murdered her. Seth Baxter. A sick, abusive fuck. He was convicted, got life in jail. Took a couple of years, but he finally went away for it. Well, he filed an appeal. His new lawyer said that the jury was tainted by the evidence of his history of domestic assaults on women, that the evidence was improperly admitted and ‘prejudicial’ to his case. After five years, the case was successfully appealed... and he went free,” A feeling of disgust and rage twists in you, and you can’t tell whether it’s Hoffman’s or yours.

“So you...”

“Jigsaw killed him,” Mark answers, “Cut him in half. He was already dating someone new when he was picked up. Tell me that's not fair.”

The words hang in the air, and you take them in. You’re starting to learn to read Mark’s face better, you think, because you can detect just a hint of smugness in his expression. You try to determine how you feel about this, but your feelings are still all tangled up in Hoffman’s. Extricating them is difficult.

“So he deserved it,” You say finally, “Jigsaw’s not just a vigilante. He kidnaps people who are- who are addicted to drugs, or who only hurt themselves, and he makes them play in these sick games. It's not right,” You can’t believe you’re arguing the philosophy of Jigsaw with one of the murderers himself. It seems unbelievable.

Mark actually rolls his eyes at you.

“It’s either people who deserve it, or people who don’t deserve their lives to begin with,” He murmurs, “think about it.”

Then you remember the feeling you’d gotten before, at the police station. The deep, dark depths of satisfaction. A kind of beast in the heart, ugly and hungry and grinning. The thought that you might have inadvertently given it some purchase in your own mind freaks you the hell out.

“Easy for you to say,” you whisper, the fear keeping your voice barely audible, “You like watching people hurt.”

Mark doesn’t deny it- maybe he sees no use in doing so, when you already know better. He looks at you coldly, calculating.

“Does it matter?” He says, “Keep your word, and you won’t be on the receiving end.”

You take a sip of your water nervously, looking around the diner. Though still not exceptionally busy, you’ve both nearly finished your food (well, Mark has, you've picked away at yours), and more people are trickling in the door. If you continue to talk here, it may become more difficult to avoid being overheard.

Wouldn’t that be a good thing, for you?

“Let’s finish up,” Mark says, as though he’s been reading your mind, “We can meet up again later. I'm going to ask you more about this mystery fourth person. So keep your eyes open," he pauses, and huffs. "Or closed, I guess."

"And Kerry will be fine?" You ask, insistently, "She's a good person, Hoffman."

"Is she?" He challenges, "she wasn't exactly discreet with Matthews. And she knew he was dirty. As far as I can tell, you're her only friend."

"Oh, and you didn't know?" You snap back, defensive, "If she deserves to be tested, we all do."

Mark stands, putting on his coat. "Yeah. Or most, at least." He replies in agreement.

"Come on," he adds, his hand on the small of your back again. You can't tell if it's meant to be possessive, threatening, or whether he's done it without even thinking about it. Perhaps surprisingly, it doesn't feel as uncomfortable this time around. "I'll walk you home. Wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

A worm has been planted in your mind, and it feeds.

Over the next week, you feel more torn than you think you've ever felt in your life. Mark Hoffman's words bore into your mind, repeating over and over, with the echos of his pain piercing through you in random intervals. You flit between feeling angry at the situation you're in, and wanting to go to Kerry and lay it all out on the table, to a strange feeling of camaraderie with Mark Hoffman.

It's a downside you've always had to reading someone, and inviting them in- you feel connected with them, permanently. Once you see through their eyes, and feel what they feel, it's hard for you to just pull away again. A piece of them remains.

It was like you were being tested yourself. By connecting with the worst possible person, you were pushing yourself- how strained could the connection be, how adverse to your own interest, while you still feel like you're on the same side?

You lie awake at night, replaying your conversation with Mark in your mind. Thinking of all the hurt you'd ever felt, yours and everyone's, echoing forever.

Needless to say- you weren't doing great. And the fact that you weren't sleeping well didn't help.

Dreams came frequently after that shared dinner with Mark Hoffman. You dreamt alternately of horrible panic, the feeling of being trapped, and physical pain that makes you wake up sobbing. So many images form in your mind that it's hard to keep track- scalpels, keys, case files, teeth, distorted statues, the smell of antiseptic.

You text it all to Mark as it comes to you. Anyone looking at your text log would think you were both insane.

But still, you tell him your dreams, and he listens. You theorize about the fourth person together, like you're trying to solve the case. You trade tidbits, make suggestions, and rule out others.

You kind of... like texting him.

---

[2:33AM - Outgoing] Just woke up with the image of a blonde woman in my head. I don't know who she is.

[2:37AM - Incoming] could be jill tuck. ex-wife.

[2:39AM - Incoming] Photo Message

[2:42AM - Outgoing] Nope, sorry. Not her.

[2:45AM - Incoming] i thought maybe she was the 4th

[2:47AM - Outgoing] Blonde woman didn't feel like the 4th. Looked like a scientist of some kind? Idk. Wearing a white lab coat.

[2:49AM - Outgoing] I also got a red room with a bunch of pictures. Like Polaroids maybe? Hung up I think. Not sure if it was connected to the blonde woman.

[2:50AM - Incoming] that ones a red herring. already happened

[2:52AM - Outgoing] Ugh

[2:56AM - Outgoing] How long is this going to last?

[2:57AM - Incoming] what

[2:59AM - Outgoing] You keeping me as your pet psychic

[3:00AM - Incoming] you think i'm planning to stop?

[3:01AM - Incoming] you'd better get used to me.

[3:02AM - Incoming] remember. delete these.

[3:04AM - Outgoing] Yeah, yeah. Do you ever sleep?

[3:05AM - Incoming] when i'm not being woken up by txts

[3:08AM - Incoming] lets meet this weekend

[3:08AM - Incoming] I want to show you something

(author's note: the true dynamic is emerging! and yes, I had to go on a little sidebar on how seth baxter's sentence could have actually been reversed. i'm a prosecutor, I can't help myself.)

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