#khh au

[eureka-its-zico]

Kiss Me and My Bones Turn to Ash

Synopsis: You get introduced to Mito in the worst way possible.

A/N: I love AU’s like this. This was a long time coming, but finely, this WIP is seeing the light of day after some long months. I tried to make it 5k words or less, but apparently, 7.3k is the smallest I can do. I hope DPR fans (and even nonfans) enjoy this little one-shot of mine. As always, much love, Jenn 

Pairing: DPR IAN x Reader

Genre: Demon!Mito, Demon AU, 

Word count: 7368

Warnings: dark themes, sacrificial themes, light BDSM, smut, blood, light gore mentioned, there is some dirty shit in here y’all. Mentions of drug-use

Your throat was raw and your skin ached. 

Raw from screaming and attempting to struggle out of the many hands that gripped your arms and legs. Your one last shot at freedom echoing between cypress trees and an endless midnight sky. Multiple hands stripped away every last shred of dignity from your body until there was nothing left but tears that flowed freely down makeup smeared cheeks down to naked skin. 

You were defenseless as these intrusive hands came by the dozens - yanking and pulling you down dirt paths deeper inside the forest. 

It didn’t matter how your voice rose in a crescendo of despair; the fear worming its way deeper inside your gut. The small hope you’d held onto that someone - anyone - would save you died the minute your bloodied back met cool stone. 

You continued to give them a fight as they spread you like a star across the midnight stone of their altar. You wouldn’t make it easy for them. While they treated you like something disposable, you knew your life meant something to you with all the moments you’d never see flashing wildly behind frantic eyes. 

It wasn’t until the ropes cut painfully deep into the skin of your ankles and wrists that you felt the last grain of hope die in your chest. The prayers to whoever was listening, cracking one last time and washing out to silence as a wolf howled somewhere off in the distance. 

No one was listening to the sounds of your prayers - or so you thought. It wasn’t until later you’d learned he’d been walking beside you, as they dragged you through dirt and rocks that cut into your skin. He watched and listened as you thrashed and cursed them with your own hatred bubbling molten hot beneath muscles and bone.

He watched and waited for the perfect time to peel free from the shadows and find his new home inside you. 

Cloaked men came together to form a tight circle around the altar. Their arms raised up along with their voices in a deep chant that you swore made even the branches on the trees tremble. Was it Latin? Aramaic? The only ones who knew were the voices of the men and whatever god they were praying to. 

You were trying to catch a glimpse around the edge of the hood of someone’s clock - was that Devin from microbiology? - when a knife started to carve shallow lines across your stomach. 

A fresh wave of screams rose from your throat. The sound was lost inside the ominous chanting of men with hidden faces and the night. You knew your thrashing was pointless. You weren’t miraculously going to develop superhuman powers and Hulk your way free from your restraints. 

So, with each descending cut down your abdomen you snarled, “Fuck you!” In their direction. Your fear was bleeding away into something carnal - something worthy of savagery. No longer did you want them to see you weeping for a God to save you. If you were dying, it would be with defiance in your eyes and skin in your teeth. 

Another seething retort was flaring to life on your tongue when you noticed him, and that was when your world completely shifted. 

You had to be hallucinating him. A sadistic trick of your own mind to find comfort in…what? He didn’t seem real. He couldn’t be. But there he was. Over the shoulders of these hooded men, at the backdrop of the forest, he paced around them. His eyes pitiless and empty except for what looked like a blue spark of flame. His thumb traced the bottom of a pouty lower lip with the top of his Cupid bow curling into something sinister. You were watching him - you’d seen him and for some reason it brought him joy. He seemed amused, whoever he was, and that amusement sent that blue spark into a flame that lit up the entire iris of his eyes. 

He was handsome. The kind of handsome Roman sculptors looked for as a muse when carving into marble. You were willing to bet that there were dozens of odes and poems written just about him. Dark long hair framed his features and somehow made the pout of his lips more exaggerated. The edges touched the collar of his black trench coat that framed wide shoulders. Shoulders that spoke volumes of muscles that rippled with power and seduction: that left thousands begging for forgiveness for following any that wasn’t him. His jawline was razor sharp and the bones of his cheeks raised high. A part of you wanted to call him Apollo, but deep down you knew if he was a God he could only have one name. 

Hades. 

The chanting came to an end and with it the carving. You didn’t want to turn away from him - your lord of the underworld - but your curiosity took hold. You wanted to see what these bastards had done. 

You didn’t yell or scream when you saw the drizzles of blood that ran like heavy syrup down your sides. The crudely cut shape of a pentagram carved into the soft flesh of your abdomen. 

He could’ve done better. 

It felt fucked up to think that way but you were all out of tears and if you were going to die you at least wanted it to look better than resembling a carved-up Christmas ham. The enter situation began fucked up from the minute you woke up inside a cell and only worsened with each passing hour. If only you hadn’t accepted that stupid invitation maybe then you’d be home in your room eating discounted Oreos and on to your next Netflix binge. 

The regret built thick and thicker on your tongue until it made it impossible to swallow past the growing rage. Or maybe your throat was just raw from all the unanswered pleading you’d done - you were done crying. If you were going to die you refused to let it happen with fresh tears in your eyes. 

You took in a heavy breath and let yourself grow rigid -  hard and hollow - ready to curse them and show them your defiance. It didn’t matter if it was a pitiful last attempt at acting like you had any semblance of control. You weren’t going down begging. 

“Fuck-“

You. That’s how it should’ve finished. 

Instead, one of the hooded assholes - Jisoon from economics, it looked like - let out a gasp. If you were under better circumstances, you would’ve made fun of him. 

“It’s you! Oh, my lord!”

His body collapsed down to his knees. His arms out in front of him in what he must have thought resembled reverence. In actuality, he looked more like he was afraid. 

Groups of hooded heads turned to see what made their brother fall to his knees. Your own head included. You weren’t entirely sure why you needed to look. You knew he was there. 

You’d felt him long before your eyes ever gazed upon him.

He manifested from darkness. The shadows cast down by the moonlight from trees, bushes, and rock slithered to create his form and once he was made he stepped out into the clearing. The second the group of eyes fell on his darkened figure they followed down on their knees. Their faces buried in the dirt where their praises fell from their lips to the soil. 

“What are you praising? The dirt? Fuckin’ idiots,” you snarled. 

If you’re going to worship something - someone - you look it in the eyes. Let them feel your devotion like a plague. 

One of them looked at you then. His hatred was evident on his face. If he could, you were sure he would’ve spit on you. If you could, you would’ve strangled him with the rope he left you to die in. 

“Dark lord - foul one - we bring you the offering that you have desired.” 

Besides the long dark coat he wore underneath was a graphic shirt that reminded you of a Rorschach painting. Black designs flooded the white material until it took on different shapes. It was tucked inside black denim that hugged his thighs and dove inside black combat boots. 

If he really was a demon he was not only the most ridiculously good-looking one out there, but self-consciously stylish. 

Your head dropped back against the stone. Your wrists and ankles are still tightly spread and trapped by the ropes that hold you bound in place. You want to keep looking at him. The desire to look at him was overwhelming, but your body was too weak to fight the exhaustion of holding yourself up. 

He walked calmly into the circle they created with you at the center. His eyes took you in and you swore you could feel the trail they took along your body. You felt a need so violent suddenly flash under your skin your wrists jerked against the rope. A whimper of urgency to plead with him to touch you almost escaped your lips, but you caught it and swallowed it back down. 

A sexy smirk played across his lips. As if the son of a bitch knew what he almost made you do in a sacrificial circle with you as the main star. 

Fresh anger brewed in your stomach and you were ready to spit it out at his feet when you blinked and he was just there. His hand clasped tight to your cheeks in warning as his obsidian eyes of flame met yours. 

“I wouldn’t do that, little lamb.” 

You would have told him to shove it if he wasn’t holding on to your face so painfully tight.  

“Is this all you brought me?”

Well, that was fucking rude. 

“Lord Mito- “

One of the hooded assholes from earlier began to rise from his knees. This guy makes himself the preverbal leader of this merry band of idiots. He was on his way up from a one-knee position when Mito stopped him. His only other free hand halted him in place. 

At first, you thought it was nothing more than a gesture. He was staying still because his master instructed him to do so. It didn’t hit you that it could’ve been something else until you noticed his pale complexion begin to darken to crimson. The other hooded assholes now looking around in uncertainty and - something you truly enjoyed - fear. 

“You come to me - like your parents - to make deals for your Ivy League tuitions with riches and recognition and you come bearing fruit from only one tree. You ungrateful roaches.” 

With each word he spoke the boys began to writhe on the ground. Their identities exposed to you the way they’d exposed you to their treachery - naked and alone - to a demon for slaughter just so they wouldn’t need to try hard at life. Some of them you’d thought were your friends. 

“We have more! We can get you more!”

“There are tons of these drunk bitches back at the house.”

More drugged women they meant. More women like you who were dumb enough to take their betrayal as friendship. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted revenge. It stoked the dying fire of rage that was left in your gut and made it new. 

For a moment, you blinked, and your entire world evaporated into darkness. A part of you screamed as you tore your face free from his hands to stay put - to be a good girl. 

What had being a good girl ever got you but sacrificing yourself until you end up on some fucked up altar in the woods. 

You were surprised when Mito didn’t turn his grip tighter to hold you in place. He didn’t try to keep you in place and was willing to let you go. Your defiant eyes staring up into his that flashed with mirth. 

“I have a better offer for you.”

Your voice was hoarse. Hours of begging for your life will do that to you. Now it felt like its own premonition. Maybe to begin again all of what held you back needed to be stripped away in fire and blood to show you what you were capable of becoming. 

“Shut up, you whore.”

It was Carl - sweet coffee shop Carl - who lashed out at you then. His words full of a frantic need to keep you quiet. Mito’s head tilted in his direction giving Carl only a sideways glance before a hand moved into view. His middle and ring finger making a swift motion up sending Carl up into the air. 

When Mito spoke the rich baritone of his voice grew darker. The night itself shifted back as if whatever words he hummed in Latin were more terrifying than what resided inside it. You watched as Carl tried to scream as his body contorted in an ungodly way. Blood pulled from the corners of his mouth and eyes with unspoken words gargling out his agony. 

“I don’t expect any further interruptions, children” Mito snarled with Carl dropping in a twisted - and very dead - heap on the forest floor. “I smell a deal coming. Please, little lamb, continue.”

Your tongue flicked across your cracked lips. Your hesitancy dying off as soon as you watched his hungry eyes follow their movement. 

“I offer you them.”

A crescendo of yelling rose as a wave around you. The men who sought to end your life with brutality did not seem to enjoy losing their lives the same way. How funny.

Mito made a swift turning motion with his hand and pulled it close to his chest. In the span of the same heartbeat it took to do it all the screaming stopped. He’d stripped them of their voice. 

“If I wanted them I would have them.”

You shook your head hard once to deflect his claim. 

“That’s not true. If that was the case, they would already be dead. Especially Carl. You’re stuck in some weird servitude thing. I bet you can’t even leave this area.” An unnatural cold wind rushed over your skin. It involuntarily caused your hands to grab at your bindings as a shiver ran across your body igniting it in goosebumps. “I can offer you all of them. All twelve of them along with my servitude and the release to feed freely as you wish until I’m dead.”

Everything appeared to grow still as his eyes searched your face. Was that excitement in his eyes? You couldn’t tell at first but realized the growing flames that seemed to leap up endlessly past his iris wasn’t because of anger. It was the thought of new prospects. A freedom to feed in a way he’d been denied after however long he’d been summoned.

Mito began to slowly lean down towards your face and you struggled not to turn away. The fire in his eyes created the illusion that you were falling further into hell and, maybe you were. Strangely enough - for him - you were willing to burn. 

“You’ve got a deal, little lamb,” he breathed across your lips just before he crushed his mouth against yours. 

You shouldn’t have thought of it as a kiss. It was visceral - every part of you fought against your ropes, digging the thread deeper into your flesh just to feel his pouty lips envelope over yours. The tip of his tongue moved across your lower lip, asking for entrance, and you gladly gave it. 

You opened to him without hesitation and Mito deepened the kiss. He used his tongue to open you up further; cracking your lips and smearing it against his own. At the first hint of copper on your tongue Mito let out a moan that made you strain against your bindings. The sound was pure sin. It was the promise of pleasure and pain - of being torn apart and made anew. 

When he tore his mouth away from you in a snarl, you almost screamed out in frustration, but the twelve hooded assholes who you’d offered up did it for you. 

You couldn’t see all that well what was happening in the clearing around you. The sounds of screaming resonated back inside the night sky once more, but this time it no longer was yours.  You listened as some ended abruptly while others gurgled around throats full of blood just before their end. The sound of flesh and thicker things landing with a plop on the dirt made your stomach flip. Splashes of blood rained down on you and you squeezed your eyes shut tight. 

It felt like an eternity before the screaming stopped abruptly after the sound of a boot crunching the bones of someone’s neck. You could hear the wind move across the leaves and scatter them over objects - maybe bodies, maybe rocks - and branches. It became so eerily quiet that you wondered if the whole thing had been a dark part of your imagination. 

Maybe you’d open your eyes and find yourself back inside the party. Your friend handing you a warm beer as you danced to a remix of some song that you didn’t know half the words too. It was a good thought - a great one, actually - but one you knew wasn’t going to be true. 

When you opened your eyes a hurricane of emotion billowed up in your chest and threatened to release from your lips. Mito was floating above you, his eyes completely consumed with the flames that earlier had only shown like dying embers. Now, the fires were completely stoked by the souls of the corpses littered around you. 

A devilish smile showcasing perfectly white teeth raised his lips as he watched you swallow down your fear. You could’ve sworn they all looked very sharp and pointy, but just like his eyes you watched as they all but disappeared. The only thing left to show for what had happened was a naked torso covered in tattoos and streaked with blood. 

“Are you afraid?”

You licked your lips as you tried to think of how to answer and watched as hungry eyes followed the movement once more. 

“It depends on what you mean by afraid,” you answered him softly. “Am I afraid of being in your debt? No. Am I afraid of you? Yes.”

His finger dragged along your cheek and followed the curve of your face. You thought he would stop there and gasped as he traced it further down to your throat, over your chest, and to the curve of your breast. 

“You’re smart to be afraid of me,” he replied huskily. His body was no longer floating above you but was now being held up by his own weight. “But I promise to take good care of you, little lamb as long as you promise to do the same for me in return.” 

His head dipped to the curve of your neck to press a soft kiss just below your ear. The intimacy of the gesture wasn’t something you’d prepared for. You’d expected him to be brutal; to take without remorse. Instead, Mito pressed his lips softly against your skin as if to tell it a secret. 

It didn’t seem possible, but as his lips glided down your throat and to the hollow of your collarbone an ache began to grow hot and molten in your blood. He placed one last kiss between your breasts before his tongue dragged a hot line down close to the carved flesh of your stomach. 

You were aware of his hand as it crept up your thigh. Mito made sure he took his time with every inch his fingers took - tracing over the dips in your hip and over the mound of your pussy. Constantly he teased you - getting close and pulling away - and never let you have an inch of relief. 

A whimper was rising in your chest. Your hands no longer docile as they struggled to loosen the hold of the ropes at your wrists just so you could lace your fingers roughly in his hair. Mito’s tongue ran over the top point of the pentagram causing a hiss of surprised pain to rush past your lips. You wanted to move away from his wandering tongue as it continued to explore the open wound, but a strong hand held you in place. 

Mito worked his mouth over the botched grooves of your stomach - cleaning up the last remnants of your fucked up night. A growl was growing louder deep within his chest, humming against your skin, just before he shoved his tongue brutally into the open wound. 

The pain tore the air from your lungs. The scream you would’ve unleashed was stolen by silence and two thick fingers pushing themselves past your folds until they were knuckle deep inside you. 

You wish you could say that your body fought him - your thighs had clenched shut around his arm or your hips made it impossible for him to enter you. That he didn’t find your pussy dripping and eager for him. None of that would be true, however. 

Your body accepted him like a zealot to a newfound religion, and his fingers pushing past your folds to fuck you had your hips rising up to meet him with devotion. 

“Please,” you hummed. 

You didn’t care that you were begging. You were ready to shout for him to go further - deeper - when he inserted a third finger. The feeling of your pussy stretching followed by the overwhelming sense of fullness caused you to buck against the rock. The movement forced your stomach up into his hungry mouth causing his tongue to go deeper into the cut. 

The stinging sensation should’ve been enough to bring you back to your senses - a warning that this was fucked; you shouldn’t be enjoying this - but Mito made your body crave his pleasure through brutality. 

His wrist began to pump his fingers in deep, curling and stretching you until you came impossibly undone. Every time he pulled back - his fingers entering you anew - he went impossibly deeper. His fingers curl enough to hold the breath in your lungs and tear it free when his thumb curved up and pressed down on your clit. 

A wet squelching noise began to rise up around you. It was lewd - complete filth that mixed itself together with the sloppy sounds of his mouth hungrily cleaning up the dried blood surrounding the pentagram. Your cheeks would usually burn red hot with embarrassment at the sounds being made, but when Mito’s thumb began to apply pressure as his thumb rubbed small circles on your clit, fingers still fucking you, you couldn’t find a reason to care. 

With a thick pop, Mito removed his mouth from your wound. Fresh blood - your blood - outlined his puffy lips. He made no move to go back to your chest or do anything. His fire filled eyes did not stop from watching as you writhed beneath him. 

“Tell me: I want you to tell me to whom you belong.” 

His voice was sin. It was sex - something ancient and primal that blossomed inside you like blood on a white shirt. It made your body needy as his thumb stroked in time with his fingers as they pushed inside your cunt. 

“You - fucc it’s you.” 

“You’ll do what I ask of you. No questions asked.”

His curled fingers touched something deep inside you. Something that clawed a mewling sound out from between your lips and made your body struggle anew against your restraints. You knew Mito wanted an answer. The irritation was creasing that pretty brow of his and making his hairline drop to greet them. 

The same irritation stoked the flame in his eyes from cobalt blue to crimson. Mito thrusted his fingers one last time into you before he removed them. If he was trying to punish you he was too late. 

That last thrust - with the hard rub of his thumb against your clit - sent you barreling over the edge. Your orgasm hit you violently and fast and you found yourself wetting the front of his chest. 

“Dirty girl,” he huffed. “You got me all wet.” 

He moved along your body until you were eye level. Your body was still trembling underneath him when his fingers laced themselves at the base of your scalp and pulled. A yelp leapt out of you as Mito’s free hand took hold of your jaw and held your mouth open. 

You watched as he accumulated salvia at the edge of his lips. Your brain barely registered what he was doing until he spit it inside your open - waiting - mouth and forced it closed. 

“Swallow.”

The demand was fire. A promise of punishment if you disobeyed. You wish you could’ve said it was disgusting. The taste of blood - your blood - and brimstone staining the inside of your mouth and coating your throat pissed you off. That you fought against him and told him to fuck off. In all actuality, it only made your cunt clench down on nothing. 

Once you swallowed it you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue out just to show him you’d been good. Done as he asked. The gesture alone sent a devilish smirk to curl across those pretty lips. 

“Good girl. Now let me hear you say it.”

Oh. Right. “I’ll do what you ask of me, Mito. No questions.”

“I expect you to hold up your end of our deal tonight, little lamb.” 

“I always keep my promises.”

You were trying to sound cheeky. Instead, it simply came out breathless. Mito was still staring down at you like you held the world he wanted to destroy and fuck if it wasn’t making it hard to think past the growing heat between your legs.

Slowly, Mito lowered himself closer to you and only stopped when his lips hovered a mere inch above yours. 

“That remains to be seen.”

The baritone of his voice whispering against your lips sent your body into hyperdrive. You were ready to beg him to fuck you when he dropped the last inch and placed a soft kiss at the corner of your mouth. 

The sheer softness of it startled you. Your eyes went wide as he pulled himself off of you and finally your makeshift altar. He was moving around you carefree. His movements slow and careful as he picks up his shirt and jacket out of the viscera and carnage he’d strewn across the fall leaves. 

“I’ll be seeing you soon, little lamb.” 

This asshole! Now your eyes were wide for another reason. You reached your arms up as high as you could raise them before giving the ropes at your wrist a shake. 

“Ugh, hello? Are you just going to leave me like this in the woods?”

Mito stopped at the edge of the clearing and regarded where you were like you were complaining about being in a five-star hotel. His shrug only set a fire to blaze in your blood. 

“It did cross my mind.”

“That’s gonna be a huge no for me.”

“You mean, you don’t like being tied naked to a rock in the middle of the woods?” He teased, with an eyebrow cocked. 

“Tempting, but no. Not in the slightest.” 

“Very well,” he shrugged. “See you soon, little lamb.”

Mito disappeared back inside the darkness he was born from, and you were ready to scream. To threaten to take your deal back when you threw up a middle finger at his exit and realized the rope was gone. 

Thank god - whoever - for spooky favors. 

You weren’t a smoker - still weren’t - but if offered you took one. From curious bartenders, frat parties with social smokers, and the ever-present sleazy drunks who assumed you must be a whore pressed so close to the shadows of the brick buildings Mito liked to frequent. 

The only whore you were was his. 

Of course, you were sure the only reason you let the toxic trash touch your lips was the same reason you drank in excess when he was gone. You weren’t entirely sure when you first noticed it. The emptiness you felt at small pleasures you used to enjoy became a distant memory. 

When was the last time you truly enjoyed a milkshake? A damn good Lumberjack-style breakfast or a warm cup of coffee? These days it seems you need multiple milkshakes to really taste the sweetness of the cream or the artificial flavoring of candy. You need dozens of pancakes and a mountain of syrup to even begin to feel full. 

No. When Mito was gone there was no fulfillment in anything. You were a bottomless pit of wants and craving and the only thing that could ease the burden of that unfashionable emptiness was him. 

At first, you didn’t want to believe such a thing could happen, but the more he stayed away the more you felt the black hole of longing begin to brew inside your gut. You wondered if anyone else could see it; the desperate way you tried to fill it. No matter what you tried nothing could ease the ache of nothingness until he reappeared. Your knight in his all-consuming darkness. 

When he would simply appear from the shadows or come up quietly from behind you while you sat on a bar stool, his hands covering your eyes and a devious, “Guess who?” cascading down your senses, you felt whole again. Complete. A fucked up missing puzzle piece finally fitting back in its rightful place. 

Maybe this is what it meant to be soulless. A hollowed-out version of who you were that only knew relief by the hands of the devil. 

You spent weeks since that night at the party - from your little adventure in the forest - before you saw Mito again. When he finally re-emerged for the first time that night with his hands hovering over your eyes you didn’t need to hear the husk of his tone to know it was him. 

Your skin had become feverish with a desire so deep it felt like you’d taken a sledgehammer to the gut at just the heat of him pressed against your back. All the life you’d felt slipped out of you day by day, everything you loved and that made you-you suddenly was coming back with blaring clarity. 

The second Mito’s warmth retreated from your back, your legs were swinging the bar stool around to follow him. He was moving to sit in the empty stool next to you. His feet barely touched down on the grimy linoleum floor before you were on him. 

You secured your arms around his shoulders and, to his apparent surprise, used the momentum of your body rocking into his to pull him towards you. You weren’t giving him a second to speak or deny you any longer. With a hand secured at the nap of his neck, and the other twinning inside the soft silk of his shirt, you crashed his pouty lips down on yours. Your tongue darting to trace a request for him to open up to you. 

Mito didn’t make you wait long. 

As suddenly as you’d taken hold of him Mito took hold of you - trapped you - in his arms. His kiss devoured you; ate and tasted up every whimpering plea his tongue stroking over yours coaxed from your chest. 

You felt alive. You felt whole again. 

Every sinew - every nerve of your body crackled with electricity, and as Mito’s hands glided up the back of your thighs you swore you could’ve become a storm. 

The both of you had stumbled into the bars’ back bathroom. The door held together by makeshift locks letting you know the entire place heard every moan he’d torn from you as he fucked you. When his cock bottomed out - so incredibly deep - between your folds and left you coming all over the edge of the bathroom sink, you knew that the whole entire bar heard.

Later that night, Mito made two deals with two grimy-looking fucks. They weren’t into specifics of the deals they tried to make, and that was the thing about demons. Specifics. They were wordy bastards - great at mind games and twisting phrases and promises around until it sounded like a sweet deal, but the fine print was always missed. Needless to say, the two men had made their own separate deals that night. Neither one of them made it to see the sunrise. 

After that night, Mito allowed you to travel with him. When you made yourself useful and found him unsuspecting souls full of grief and gluttony and, Mito’s personal favorite, rage. He particularly enjoyed the souls that looked sweet on the outside; soft and sincere sounding with their crosses around their necks. Underneath all of that tried-hard smile was something sinister; something Mito claimed to be the sweetest flavor of sin. 

You weren’t sure how all of his deals were struck. You were positive the women, and some of the men, probably asked for the deal to be sealed with a kiss. Sex. Not all of them prefer a handshake and words of good faith. One guy, in particular, wanted the deal to be sealed with a little flame, making Mito do a weird magic trick of using his finger like a candle. 

Yeah, that was a weird one. 

None of them made it past a week. Some - if they were lucky - got a few months. 

That’s how you ended up backstage in a band’s dressing room. You’d met the lead singer at a club they’d been performing at. He’d sauntered up to the bar pressing the crotch of his jeans against your ass and tried to play it off like he was just leaning against the bar - waiting for a drink just like you.  

The dislike for him was instant. 

You allowed yourself to listen to him ramble. His pickup lines were incredibly atrocious. He thought being in a band made him instantly fuckable. 

The only way you saw out of your predicament was to play into it and invite him to meet Mito. There were four other members in their group - four other people to come along for the ride. It didn’t take long for you to excuse yourself to their dressing room so Mito could do his whole song and dance. 

Show them he’s a demon and did his best not to freak them out. He was out there buttering them up. Five fresh souls for the taking. 

Whenever he made a fresh deal Mito liked to fuck. You weren’t sure if it was the excitement of a fresh soul, or a fresh kill when a particularly delicious sinner sat down at his table was too good to pass up (here is where the word games came into play). Whatever it was, he came back to you in such a euphoric high the tattoos that painted his skin writhed like a living thing.  

You weren’t complaining, not really. Your only complaint - if you had one - would be on those days when he’d made multiple transactions in a day. You cared very much when your overstimulated body threatened to rip in half as his cock pushed back inside your bruised walls; fingernails digging into the soft flesh of your hips. His teeth leaving impressions in the mounds of your breasts.

There was no doubt in your mind that he was going to come back in one of those highs. He’d warned you to stay put and that taking one foot outside the room meant punishment. 

Mito wanted you close and easy to find. You, however, were growing impatient. 

You hated how easy it became for him to read you, especially during sex.

There were times you enjoyed playing hard to please and Mito? Well, he enjoyed playing into it just to tear you apart and turn you into a crumbling mess beneath him. It was his way of reminding you that he owned you - mind, body, and soul - and while you continued to play your little games, it was only because he allowed the facade of freedom to dance like little sugar plums around in your head.

But there were moments he stripped those sugar plums from your head. 

The first night he’d marked you had been in the dressing room of someone famous. It’d make you nervous to be around them not because of who they were - you would have cared less about their money and a false sense of infamy. No, it made your skin crawl to watch these people negotiate deals with Mito as if they were making a setlist. They were too stupid to realize they needed to read the fine print; to know that fine print was open to change whenever Mito saw fit. 

You tried to wait like he’d asked, just like now, but the place made your skin crawl. You’d grabbed your bag and had just made it to the door, your hand on the knob twisting and swinging it open when - like Houdini - Mito was just there. 

An itching sensation began to grow between your shoulder blades. One where you couldn’t tell if it was a warning, you just being antsy to flee, or an actual damn itch. Whatever it was, maybe you should’ve listened to the first part, but just the memory of being left alone - again - inside another dressing room left your brain pleading with you to flee. 

Mito be damned. 

You slid off of the couch and your chunky boots made a resonating thud inside the empty room. 

Yup. Time to go. 

The second your hand wrapped around the doorknob and pulled the door towards you flashbacks of that night replayed through your head at warp speed. 

He didn’t seem surprised at your attempted departure. Instead, with an arm draped against the doorframe, Mito seemed like he was actually waiting for you to open it. A flurry of thought erupted in your head on how you could explain what you were doing - what he was seeing. You could easily tell him you’d sensed his presence at the door and were just trying to make it easier for him to enter. You knew, however, when reflecting obsidian eyes glanced down at your bag clutched tightly in your hands the jig was up. 

“And where, little lamb, do you think you were going?” 

“Mito I wasn’t-“ 

“And don’t lie to me,” he continued. His words over saturating yours as if he wasn’t finished talking to begin with. 

His body immediately encompassed what small space was left between you, him, and your attempted exit. His pitiless eyes were still staring down at you - waiting for a response - while he closed and secured the door behind him. 

You already knew the minute you saw him at the door you weren’t going anywhere. Now that he’d locked you in, sent your pulse racing with excitement or fear you weren’t too sure which was which. Lately, the two seemed to blend together. 

He was pushing you back farther into the room; your feet backpedaling into a moment of peace before you knew what would happen. 

“I was tired of waiting for you to get back. I was going out for a smoke.”

“I told you to wait here,” he growled. 

“And I wanted a smoke.”

You wanted to sound unmoved by the fluorescent gleam of rage billowing up in his eyes. At any minute his left could wash over to the bleak white that promised he was minutes from breaking. The facade of playing a mere mortal man bleeding away until all that stood before you was Death. 

You were so hyper-focused on him that you weren’t aware he’d backed you against the built-in makeup counter until your lower back came into painful contact with its edge. Just as a sharp gasp huffed from your lips Mito’s hand struck out - fluid and snake-like - to wrap around your throat. Constricting just enough to remind you it was there. 

“Little lamb, I told you what would happen if you didn’t listen.”

He did. He’d told you many times. Mito even embellished his warnings like a tiny little nightmare meant to keep children from adventuring out into the woods. 

Don’t go out there children. That’s where the wolf resides and he’ll tear you to bits. 

You always were a whore for things with sharp teeth. 

“You did, but I can’t help it,” your words gasped around his tightening grip. “You know I love to see if you’re a demon of his word.”

You watched intently as his eyes scanned your face. The Smokey trundles of white that began to billow up inside his left eye as his nostrils flared. A part of you felt victorious. A matching smirk was seconds away from sliding the corner of your lips upward until it was cut short. 

Mito released his hold from your neck, his body moving back just enough to allow space for him to turn you around to face the mirror. His hips closed the few inches he’d given while he kicked your feet apart. 

“You love being punished so much, don’t you, little lamb. Always testing your limits and one of these days you’re going to push too far.” As he spoke, his words curled at the base of your spine brimming with a threat that sent your heart thundering in your chest. “You’re so gluttonous for my punishment, let's see how you handle this.” 

The reflection in the mirror showcased your uncertainty. Your brow creases with the weight of unspoken questions as to what Mito could possibly mean. For a split second, ice-cold fear encapsulated your mind that maybe this was it. Maybe your deal was done and he was finished with you. 

That thought was ripped from your mind as Mito pushed your skirt up to your hips and a sharp smack of his hand against your ass brought you back to the present. Looking in the mirror, you could see his right eye was brimming with fire while the other had been completely consumed with white. 

He pressed up against you to keep you trapped between his body and the counter. Mito’s eyes watching as you watched him begin to remove his jacket and then the colorful shirt that had lived underneath it. 

No matter how many times you’d seen him naked, Mito never ceased to catch the air in your lungs. Your body forgot to register to breathe as you drank in the caramel tone of his skin and the museum of art that now slithered against his flesh. His muscles bunched and flexed as he tossed his clothes aside, and already you could feel the fabric of your underwear become soaked. 

He dragged a hand from the base of your spine and slowly moved it up until his hand laced in your hand. His fingers twinning in its strands and pulling back hard enough to tear a scream from you. 

With his free hand, he spanked you hard on the same cheek. The sting dulled out the momentary pain you’d felt.

“Tell me. Let me hear you say what you want.” 

“I want you.”

Another hard smack against your ass left your hands scrambling for something to hold you up; anything at all.  The only thing you logically seemed to find was the mirror itself. 

“You know that’s not what I meant, little lamb. I know you want me. You’re soaking my clothes.”

Licking your lips, you caught his gaze in the mirror and held it. Your chest heaving as you struggled to get out the words you knew would ruin you. 

“I want you-I want you to fuck me, Mito. My lord. My master.”

You threw in the last for fun. You knew he loved it when you used pet names for him. One that reminded you both of who - what - he truly was. 

“As my slave commands.”

You weren’t about to correct him, because you were. You knew without him you were nothing and when he dropped to his knees in front of your cunt with his tongue pushing between your folds, you knew Mito worshiped you too. 

_____________

Comments and reblogs are always welcome. Thank you for reading! XoXo

[maracllea]

I’ve been waiting and anticipating, to be a bad bitch | BIBI | Vengeance 2022

[jun2u]

hello !! i’m a new khh / kpop fanfic blog and am hoping to get a glimpse of what YOU would like to read / see more in the community !! therefore i’ve created a google form here where you can submit any suggestions / informal requests you have ( NSFW questions included but optional !! ) ! if you could take just a few minutes to fill this out with your preferences you’d really help me out , plus who knows ? your requests might make it as one of my first fics ! thank u and have the best day <3

[seokstrivia]

Written In Pages

Summary: Sometimes, it’s for the best, 

Work!AU | KHH M.List | Word count: 2.4K

Boss Christian Yu x Writer Reader - angst, old feelings, exes, new love vs old love, drama(?)

After slamming your laptop shut for the umpteenth time, you groaned in irritation and took the last sip of your wine.

Your dream job was to write articles for a magazine, specifically inspiring stories about everyday life situations. You disliked writing about new cafes and hotspots to visit in Seoul, South Korea on a hot summer day. Your boss, Christian Yu, was someone you despised.

You let out a sigh as you leaned back on your couch, feeling exhausted from working for long hours and staring at a bright screen. Despite the fatigue, you were able to enjoy the peacefulness of your apartment which was quietly enveloped by the sound of light rain tapping against the tall windows that offered a view of the brightly lit city at night. The cityscape was a sight to behold, with buildings and cars stretching out as far as the eye could see, and you found it captivating.

It felt surreal.

You struggled with the idea of writing this article for a while, but now, as it is almost 3 am, you just want to finish it and move on, without having to worry about it anymore.

You worked tirelessly on your article all night, only the clicking of your keyboard keeping you company. As the sky began to lighten just before 5 am, you finally completed your 12th and hopefully final draft. After sending it to your boss, you collapsed into your bed, exhausted.

—>

“Wow, you look like shit.”

“Shut up, Dabin,” you scowled while you pointed a pen at him, almost as if threatening to hurt him if he said another word. “I was up late working on an article.”

“Again?”

As you nodded your head, a yawn escaped your lips, but Dabin didn't seem too impressed. He was aware of your writing skills, and he knew that Ian, his best friend, also recognized your talent. Despite this, Ian never allowed you to demonstrate your best writing abilities.

It annoyed him.

“Do you want me to speak to...“

“No,” you cut him off knowing exactly what he was going to ask. It was his favourite question. “It’s fine.”

Dabin suspiciously leaned over you, face a lot closer than you were comfortable with, and stared into your eyes as if they had a different answer to the one you’d given him.

It made you laugh.

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” you genuinely smiled as you pushed his face away from yours.

The two of you discussed where to go for lunch and what you were in the mood for, which varied daily.

“Y/N, can I see you in my office?”

The sudden voice behind you caused you to drop the smile on your face. You quickly locked eyes with Dabin before shifting to see your boss standing behind you.

Ian didn't give you time to respond to his question since he was already on his way back to his office. His strides were long and swift as you hurriedly followed behind.

A sigh escaped your lips as you thought about all the terrible things he might say about the draft you sent just a few hours ago.

Christian's office exuded a sense of sophistication and elegance with its predominantly black theme. The black furniture and décor complemented the black walls, creating a sleek and modern atmosphere. The aesthetic aligned perfectly with Christian's personal style, which is characterized by his sharp black suits, crisp white shirts, and multiple decorated tattoos. Overall, the office was a reflection of Christian's impeccable taste and attention to detail.

There’s no denying that he was a handsome man. 

“Do you enjoy working here?”

His voice was firm and almost intimidating, but it was nothing that you weren't accustomed to.

“Ye—“

“Answer me honestly,” he interrupted.

An exasperated sigh escaped your lips as he once again failed to listen.

It was annoying. 

You gazed out of the window, avoiding eye contact as the rain poured heavily over the city. It was ironic that you had just written an article on what to do on a hot summer day.

“Y/N—“

"Ian," you sighed, interrupting him as he had interrupted you earlier. "I don't hate working here, and I want you to know that. I genuinely enjoy the people and the work that I do. But it feels like you never give me a fair chance to show you how good I am, or how much I love being here."

As you stood up, your eyes met Christian's dark and mysterious ones. You never really understood him, as he always kept his distance. Even when you were dating, he never let you get too close.

His eyes reminded you of the heartbreak you felt when he told you he needed to focus on work and being a boss. There was no sadness or remorse in his expression. He was emotionless.

You subconsciously took a step back as he took one towards you, both caught off guard. You were afraid of falling for him again, especially after the pain he had caused you.

“I think maybe I should find another company to write for.”

“No.”

“Ian—“

“Y/N,” his voice was stern. Cold. “I said no.”

A deep chuckle reverberated in his office. You stepped back and crossed your arms, "It's not up to you. I can do what I want."

He knew you were right, but he didn't want you to leave. He had already given you up once.

Here's a clearer version of the text:

"Will you stay if I let you write your own story?" he asked, trying to offer a bribe.

"Why?" you questioned him, catching him off guard. He had hoped that you would just say yes and leave it at that.

There was an uncomfortable silence as he stood his ground, looking at you intently, but he didn't offer an explanation.

He was being stubborn.

After a while, you looked away from him and said, "I'll stay. See you around, Mr. Yu."

Christian watched as you left his office. He let you walk away.

Again.

—>

It was another late night in the office. Ian had finally given you the green light to write your own story - something exciting, new, and inspiring. However, you were struggling to come up with an idea. You didn't have any unique experiences to discuss, except for your own heartache and the pain you had gone through, along with the emotions you had felt.

It had been more than a year since Ian had broken up with you. Now, you were in a much better place emotionally, and seeing him around the office didn't hurt as much as it did when the wound was still fresh.

Your experience of getting over a breakup could serve as a source of inspiration for many individuals out there who may be going through the same thing. You could write about how you coped with the situation and be honest in your narrative. The idea is to make your readers relate to you and feel that they are not alone in the world and that going through a breakup is a common experience that everyone faces at least once in their lifetime.

As you were lost in thought, a voice interrupted you, asking "How are you getting on?"

You glanced up to see Dabin holding a box of fried chicken and a pack of four beers. You couldn't help but smile as your stomach growled in hunger. You were grateful for your best friend's arrival.

"Thank god for you," you exclaimed, feeling much better now. "I'm starving."

The two of you were quick to get settled into the couches in the staff room; away from computers and cubicles and depressing grey walls.

"This is delicious," you moaned as you took another bite.

Dabin laughed in return, "I'm glad I can help during times like this."

Dabin was a really good friend.

"So, how's your writing coming along?" He asked.

"Fine."

Nodding his head, he asked, "what's it about?"

You took a sip of your drink before turning to face Dabin. It was obvious what he was doing.

"You can let Ian know the article's content will be revealed in my final draft, okay?"

"How did you know I was asking for him?"

You lay back on the couch, sighing as your eyes stared at the plain white ceiling. Dabin followed suit, resting his shoulder neatly against yours.

It was quiet.

There was nobody else in the building except for the two of you. Normally, nobody stayed back late. However, you enjoyed staying late because of the peaceful and quiet atmosphere. The lights would turn off automatically on a timer, leaving you with a breath-taking view of Seoul from above.

Being on the top floor definitely had its perks.

"He didn't want to end things with you, but he had no choice. He misses you," Dabin finally spoke.

You avoided eye contact and stated, "Everyone has a choice."

You were in a three-year relationship with Ian before he broke up with you. As time went on, your love for him grew stronger and you were convinced that he was the one.

But no.

On a frigid winter night, he arrived at your doorstep and broke up with you. Declaring that his work was his priority and that he wanted to become a boss his father could be proud of.

So, he married his job instead.

It was a horrible experience that left you feeling utterly shattered. A heavy weight seemed to sit on your chest, and no matter what you did, you couldn't shake off the feeling. You cried yourself to sleep that night, and dealing with the aftermath was so difficult that you had to take a month off work. Seeing him again was too much to bear after feeling so broken.

"I thought he was the one, Dabin," you expressed. "But after he broke up with me, I realized that I didn't really know him. He never let me get close to him, and he never opened up to me. I was blindly in love."

Dabin looked at you with sad eyes; it was the first time you had openly talked about your breakup.

->

Saturdays were your favourite day of the week. You could sleep in as long as your stomach allowed before getting too hungry. You didn't have anything on your to-do list. It was a day just for you to relax, unwind, and not think about anything or anyone for that matter.

However, on this particular Saturday, instead of being awakened by hunger, you were awakened by the doorbell.

You were confused as to who was turning up at your apartment this early on a Saturday. You quickly got out of bed, grabbed your slippers and dressing gown and headed to the door.

You didn't think to look through the peephole before opening the door.

"Hey."

His voice was deep.

"What are you doing here?" You blurted out before thinking.

Ian.

He ran his hand through his hair.

Then sighed. Deeply.

"Can we talk?"

You stared at him, completely gobsmacked. What the hell was he doing here?

"Ian, please go home," you declared, your voice quavering. "I don't want to talk to you right now."

He didn't allow you to close the door as he barged in and let it slam shut behind him.

"Please," he begged.

You witnessed an unusual display of emotion in his gaze, something completely foreign to you in all the time you'd known him.

This was new, and you were in shock. It was so unlike him to do this.

"There's nothing to talk about," you declared, finally breaking the silence.

Ian sighed again, except this time, he sounded annoyed, "just give me five minutes of your time. Please."

Upon not wanting to argue, you silently nodded and sat on your couch, wondering what he wanted to discuss.

"Dabin spoke to me," he began. "He told me about how I made you feel."

"Okay? And?"

"Do you hate me?"

You scoffed. Was he serious? This is what he wanted to ask you?

"No, Ian. I don't hate you," you said honestly. "But I don't like you either."

He rolled his eyes, and you smiled smugly.

"Ian, please get to the point," you stated, your annoyance palpable. He was ruining your favourite day of the week.

"If I proposed, would you have married me?" Ian asked as he sat next to you on the couch.

The shock in your eyes didn't go unnoticed.

You let out a nervous chuckle and moved away from him. He was sitting too close to you, which made you feel uneasy. It had been a year since the two of you had been this close to each other, and you didn't like it.

"Ian, we're not a good match-"

"But would you have said yes?"

As you felt your heart beating harder against your chest, you began to feel nauseous and the sensation of wanting to throw up arose.

Why was he asking you this all of a sudden?

"Y/N, would you have said-"

"Shut up!" you snapped, taking a few steps back as you stood up. "You always have to have your own way, win arguments- even need to get the last word in. God forbid anyone says anything to you."

You were pacing the room, but he was listening for once.

He was actually listening.

"We were together for three years, I loved you unconditionally and fell more in love with you every day. It wasn't until you broke up with me that I realised I'd been dating a fucking rock."

"Y/N, I'm so sorry" he apologised as he stood up.

"Save it," you sighed.

His eyes searched yours, seeking answers, searching for any sign of love.

"I would have said yes. Of course, I would've" you told him honestly. His lips curved into a smile, but faltered when you added, "but not now."

He didn't say anything except, 'sorry' before leaving, making sure to slam the door shut behind him. Except this time, he was the one who was walking away and you were the one who let him.

That night you decided to quit your job, there was no way that it was healthy for either of you to go on like this.

He didn't question it this time or stop you, he didn't even look at you. Your words had hurt him just like he'd hurt you. This wasn't what you wanted, but realistically what else could you do?

It just wasn't written in pages for you two to be together.

And maybe, that was okay.

->

A/N Pls go easy on me with this, its my first time writing since being on my long ass hiatus, but I hope you still enjoyed <3 xoxo

[dreamperfectarchives]

Sweet Silence

Summary: Dabin makes a bet with his friends without thinking about the consequences and gets into trouble.

Or boys will be boys, Ugh.

Bet!AU | M.List | Word Count: 1.6k

DPR Live x Reader: Angst, fluff, miscommunication, your friends with other khh artists. drama. arguments, men are dumb!

A/N sorry, it's on the shorter side but please enjoy!

How it started;

"If you accept this bet, y/n might not speak to you ever again."

Dabin rolled his eyes.

"He knew you better than anyone, and he believed that you wouldn't break up with him over a bet. Especially since he would explain everything in detail once the bet was over and he had won, proving those guys wrong.

“Okay, you have three days to complete this whole game, so that means no sleeping and no texting your girlfriend,” Ian smirked as he explained the rules to Dabin. “We’ll come into your flat to make sure you’re fed and hydrated, so you don’t die.”

Your boyfriend had a smile on his face, feeling thrilled at the idea of proving his friends wrong and winning the bet. However, he got too caught up in the excitement and forgot to inform you beforehand that he would be gone for three days while the dare was taking place.

“Bring it on, guys!”

He didn’t think that the outcome, in the end, would be so… terrifying. 

How it went; 

“You know what’s weird?” you said as you grabbed a drink out of your fridge. “I haven’t heard from Dabin since last night.” 

Hoody sat comfortably on the floor, intently flipping through the pages of a fashion magazine. Meanwhile, Sohee carefully painted her nails with a deep and rich shade of red.

“He’s probably just hanging out with the guys,” one of them answered. 

The other simply hummed in agreement. 

"Oh, that's a nice colour," you complimented Sohee before sitting next to her on the couch, being careful not to disturb her. "You're probably right, but, weirdly, he's taking so long to text me." 

Hoody closed her magazine over, before grabbing her drink off the coffee table, “you know what you need?” She suggested after taking a sip. “A girls night with us! We can invite Lee Hi and DeVita too.” 

You let out a sigh, the idea did sound like fun. It had been a while since you all hung out together and had a good time. Besides, maybe Dabin needed a break with his friends, just like you needed one with yours.

“Okay,” you agreed. “Let’s do it, but we’re staying in.”

Sohee laughed as she closed the nail polish bottle, “we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The evening was a relaxing and enjoyable one, filled with laughter, good company, and indulgences like wine, face masks, and friendly chatter about relationships. We rearranged the furniture to create a cosy space on the floor, where we could lounge on blankets and pillows and fully unwind.

The thought of your boyfriend not messaging you all day, even after you texted him to ask how he was, was unsettling. It was unlike him to go this long without responding, even when he was with his friends. It just didn't make sense to you.

Was he mad at you? Did you do something wrong? 

A sigh escaped your lips as you finished your drink. Hoody was the only one who stayed after everyone went home. It had been a lovely night, full of laughter and endless fun, but now you were getting annoyed.

You sent another text.

An hour later, still no response.

It was almost 3 am and Hoody was sitting on the couch, scrolling through channels, hoping to find something interesting to watch on TV. As time passed, you seemed to become more and more irritated, letting out a sigh which Hoody took as a sign to turn off the TV and encourage you to go to bed.

While watching Hoody remove her makeup, you asked, "Do you think he's breaking up with me?" as you sat on the edge of the bathtub.

“That boy is completely in love with you,” she scolded, looking at you through the mirror. “Don’t be stupid.”

You laughed at the scowl on her face, “Sorry, it’s just unlike him, you know?”

She nodded. “If he doesn’t text or call you tomorrow, you can be as angry as you want, and I’ll be just as angry with you. Deal?”

“Deal!”

->

After Dabin failed to message or call the next day, you and Hoody sulked and complained about inconsiderate men. She was just as angry as you, she’d promised she would be the night before, you were so thankful for having a friend like her. 

“How can you go two days without messaging the love of your life?” She shouted, throwing popcorn at the TV as the protagonists kissed in the rain. “I’m so pissed off right now.”

You laughed at her sudden outburst, “It’s okay, I've decided to give him the silent treatment until he apologises.”

Hoody seemed to like your idea, and let you know she was only a call away if you needed her before she left as she had work the next day. 

Now, it was just you and your thoughts. 

The day had passed by quickly, as it always did when you were hanging out with your friends. However, now you’d found yourself unsure of what to do. You couldn't even talk to Dabin, as he wasn't talking to you in the first place. Besides, you didn't want to speak to him until he apologised. 

A sigh parted your lips as you stared at the multiple messages you’d sent the night before, how annoying, you thought. 

You started typing out a message, fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard as you let your thoughts pour out, you wanted him to know how he made you feel and what you were going to do about it before muting his messages and tossing your phone to the side. 

On the other hand:

Dabin was clueless about the impact of his actions on your feelings. He was engrossed in his video games and consuming the food that his buddies had brought for him. He convinced himself that he only had to endure one more day, and then he would see you and clarify how he had won the bet.

However, the happiness he had been feeling vanished as quickly as it had come when he saw your recent message. The message read, 'I'm not sure why you're not talking to me, but I know I haven't done anything wrong to deserve this. If this is your way of breaking up with me, then so be it. But at least say something instead of going cold.'

As he tried to call you, the call went straight through to voicemail, and his heart fell through his stomach. You thought he was breaking up with you, and he was now panicking. He couldn't bear the thought of never speaking to you again, and he realised that Ian was right.

This bet was not a good idea. 

He moved quickly, leaving a mess behind as he shoved his shoes on and grabbed his keys to make his way over to your place. The bet wasn't worth winning if it meant losing you. This whole situation was stupid to begin with. 

He arrived at your apartment just before midnight, panting heavily as he knocked on the door, praying for you to answer.

When you opened the door, you appeared annoyed. Your expression grew even more irritated when you saw him standing there. He watched as you crossed your arms and visibly became smaller under your glare.

“What do you want?” You argued. 

He quickly entered the room and closed the door behind him, saying, "I'm here to apologise. It's not what you think."

You stepped back as he tried to reach out to you. "What is it then?" you asked.

“It was a stupid bet–”

"Excuse me, what?!" you interrupted, feeling angrier. 

"It was Ian's idea. He provoked me by saying that I couldn't go three days without texting you or sleeping, and I wanted to prove him wrong," he rambled. "I know it was stupid, and I'm so sorry for putting you through this."

"I can't believe this! Did you really put me through all of this emotional turmoil just for a bet?" You unfolded your arms and settled your hands on your hips, staring at your partner in disbelief. You let out a deep sigh and collapsed onto the couch, feeling defeated. "I honestly thought you were going to break up with me."

Dabin knelt in front of you, taking your hands into his. He kissed the back of each hand and gazed deeply into your eyes. "I am so sorry for what I did," he spoke in a soft tone. "But I promise you, I'm not breaking up with you. Ever! I want to marry you one day. I'm so in love with you."

He could tell you were still upset with him, but the faint smile appearing on your lips told him that the two of you were going to be okay.

“You’ve got a lot of making up to do,” you told him to which he nodded in agreement. “Also, Ian is in a lot, and I mean, a lot of trouble.” 

Dabin laughed at the mischievous grin on your face before jumping onto the couch next to you and pulling you into his arms, “god, I missed you.”

How it ended:

“So, you failed,” Ian smirked.

Dabin shrugged as you walked into the room where he and Ian were sitting, then smiled at you.

“Ian, you are in a lot of trouble,” you said, watching the smirk fall off his lips. “I’m not sure why you’re sitting there so smugly.”

Ian appeared visibly frightened as he contemplated the severity of his situation.

Let's just say your friends had a lot to say.

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern Au) - Error 404 Brain Not Found: Bonus Scene - Part 15

It started with Jaskier laughing at Yennefer sneezing her mouth full of salad on the kitchen table while he was in the middle of eating. A few bits of his ham and cheese sandwich tumbled out of his mouth, landing in his glass of tea. "F**khh--!"

"Ha!" Yennefer laughed, "That's what you get!"

Jaskier opened his mouth and showed Yennefer the rest of his chewed up sandwich just to be childish. It fell into his glass.

"Godsd*mmit!" He snarled vehemently as Yennefer cackled.

Geralt took the glass, stirred the mess with the straw, then handed it back to Jaskier and said, "I dare you to drink it!"

Jaskier hesitated for a second. He'd eaten worse. H*ll, he'd licked a gas station toilet seat once! This was nothing! It was just tea and some wet bread. He drank the soggy mess.

"Meh," he said with a shrug. "Kind of bland, actually."

Geralt took the glass and sniffed the little bit of sludge left at the bottom, then drank it. "I'd give it a 2 out of 10."

Jaskier took the glass back and poured in a little milk, added a handful of crumbled up crisps, a spoonful of mustard, and a splash of orange juice.

And unspoken contest had just begun. Yennefer watched mutely as Jaskier drank half the concoction, then passed the other half to Geralt. They both made faces and gave their opinions on the taste.

"That tastes like a f**ked up Dreamsicle!" Jaskier announced, making a face. Geralt gagging slightly on the crisp mush, nodded his agreement.

The glass was rinsed out, and this time, a soda was poured into it. Geralt added a handful of M&Ms, a piece of leftover fried fish from last night's dinner, mayonnaise, and a scoop of pineapple pieces into the blender. This was then poured into the glass of soda.

Geralt and Jaskier each drank some.

"EEaaaUUGGGHHHH!"

"HhhUURRRGhhh!"

"You're both morons!" Yennefer said, laughing at the faces they were making as they tried to get the taste out of their mouths.

The next 'drink' consisted of spaghetti, grape juice, Lucky Charms, soy sauce, and a Snickers bar. The drink was divided and then consumed. It was chunky, and Geralt was having a little trouble getting it down. He took a breath, and sucked it down in one go.

Jaskier was trying to drink his portion as fast as he could, trying not to think too much about the chunky bits. Yennefer was holding her breath when he gagged and she saw his cheeks puff up before he swallowed heavily with a shudder.

"That tasted horrid!" He said weakly.

"It wasn't that bad," Geralt claimed.

"Bullsh*t, I saw you gag, too! And you cheated! You did that guzzling trick, so of course you didn't really taste it!"

Uh-oh, they were arguing. Yennefer hoped that maybe this whole stupid game was going to end. Unfortunately no, it was not over yet. Her boys were dumber than she'd given them credit for.

"Okay," Geralt said, "Let's just blend them up really well, and drink them with straws."

"How about we each make one and split them?"

"Hm. Good idea!"

Jaskier's creation included broccoli, bacon grease, lemon juice, half a slice of supreme pizza, peanut butter crackers, half a bottle of A** Reaper Hot Sauce, and some crumbled up chocolate cake.

Geralt's mixture contained milk, raw eggs, some kind of powdered fruit-flavored drink mix, mustard, breakfast sausage, and two sardines.

"You're going to get sick!" Yennefer warned as she watched Geralt spoon a heaping mound of chili paste into the blender.

Geralt would probably just get a mild stomach ache, but Jaskier with his acid reflux? Oh, he was going to be hurting.

"Hm!" Geralt grunted dismissively

She tried one more time to be the voice of reason as the two morons divided the Horror Cocktails between them.

"Jaskier, babe, you probably shouldn't drink that. It's going aggravate your acid reflux. Remember what happened with the Firecracker shrimp--!"

"Hush, witch, this is man business!"

"Fine, give yourselves the sh*ts, "

"Where are you going?"

"To the back yard to dig the hole I'm going to bury your stupid a** in."

Jaskier stuck his tongue out at her while simultaneously giving her the finger as she left.

"Mine first!" Jaskier said, pouring half the slurry he'd made into two glasses. He added a straw to each, then pushed one glass over to Geralt. They clinked their glasses together, and seconds later, Geralt and Jaskier were sucking down the liquefied horror.

Their exclamations of revulsion could be heard all the way to Yennefer's bedroom. They were quickly followed by the sounds of two men who were convinced their tongues were on fire.

I'm living with dumba**es. Yennefer thought to herself as she listened to them drink the sludge Geralt had made, then curse and blow and pant and make gargling noises as they chugged milk to kill the burn.

She could picture it so clearly. Jaskier and Geralt dancing around the kitchen, swearing and panting. They would be huffing long breaths in through their mouths to cool the burning sensation. Their lips would be on fire.

Geralt had heard somewhere that hair absorbed the oils that caused the burning, so they would both be rubbing handfuls of Geralt's hair on their mouths and tongues.

The noises died down after a few minutes, and Yennefer went back to her book. Her peace was disrupted about an hour later by the sounds of two jacka**es experiencing stomach issues. Geralt was in the upstairs bathroom, and Jaskier was in the downstairs, both of them sh*tting what felt like liquid fire.

When the smell began seeping out into the rest of the house, Yennefer opened a few windows and shoved some towels into the gaps under the bathroom doors. She felt only a tiny bit bad about trapping her boys in there with the horrible stench, but hey, natural consequences.

Geralt was confused and mortified as he sat on the toilet in an expanding miasma that was making him gag. He was a Witcher, and he wasn't supposed to have problems like this! F**k, he could eat roadkill, or eat out of the garbage and be fine! Witchers were made to survive on anything, they weren't supposed to get the sh*ts from a little mixed up food! His bowels cramped painfully...

Jaskier was shaking on the downstairs toilet. His stomach and his a**hole were aflame. Oh gods, this was worse than the Firecracker Shrimp incident! The heartburn, the acid in the back of his throat, the fire in his guts... This was Hell. He was in Hell. There was no other place he could be. It was pain and misery, and was that brimstone he smelled? Phew! That was rancid! Oh, sh*t, he was drooling...

Geralt: *unintelligeble cursing*

Jaskier: *barfing and sh*tting simultaneously*

Geralt: *terrifying explosive noises*

Jaskier: My a**hole's on fire!

Yennefer did the only thing she could think of to help in the situation. She cranked the volume of the stereo up, and played "Ring of Fire" by Johnny Cash.

Howls of outrage and distressed digestive noises rang out from the bathrooms.

[yangwonz]

SYNOPSIS: you and jake have been the biggest fans of ikon for as long as your friends can remember. it was no suprise, that the two of you went crazy when it was revealed that they will perform at the LOCO festival! after getting the tickets, time went by quickly and now it’s almost time to leave your tiny city for the 3 best days of your life! the only problem is that you guys are not friends anymore.

PAIRING: kinda fboy!jake x fem!reader

GENRE: smau, festival au, comedy, fluff, angst here and there, slowburn kinda, (ex-)friends to ??? (that’s gonna be a suprise)

WARNINGS: english is not my first language, ignore the timespams, lots of cursing, jokes about death, alcohol consume, sexual jokes, smoking/vaping, jealousy, oh and jakehoon are kinda assholes :(

FEATURING: members of enhypen and txt, ikon + kim hanbin, a bunch of khh artists and kpop groups/soloists (cameo as performers)

STATUS: ongoing ! (slow updates)

TAGLIST: open <3

A/N: so i decided to rewrite my U MAD?! jake smau!!! i feel i didn’t really put into much thought at the beginning. and this smau deserves to be wayyy more planned out! so here i am again, trying to make a comeback on the tumblr writers scene >< U MAD?? is now back as LOCO (9:00PM) please come and follow the group on their journey at the LOCO festival! also the header will be changed for the better i swear 😭

0.0 profiles:

[trckortrick]

hey tags. i'm 23+, she/her, and looking for some long-term krp partners to write with. if this post seems somewhat familiar, my old acct was t*rminated! anyway, i'm looking for a couple new partners to write with. below i'll include a few plots/verses i want to explore and some faces i'd like to write against. please like this post if you are interested! please note i only write ORIGINAL characters. ᥫ᭡ a slightly toxic, hot and cold idol x company employee or idol x khh artist (m/f, preferably i'd play the female) ᥫ᭡ idol x idol (can be angst or fluff, m/f or f/f) ᥫ᭡ royalty and fantasy verses (m/f or f/f) ᥫ᭡ video game aus (m/f or f/f) faces i'd love to play against, non-exhaustive: ᥫ᭡ sana, tzuyu ᥫ᭡ minnie, yuqi ᥫ᭡ lisa, jisoo, rosé ᥫ᭡ jinsoul, kim lip ᥫ᭡ karina, winter ᥫ᭡ christian yu / dpr ian ᥫ᭡ kim hanbin ᥫ᭡ jeon jungkook, jung hoseok ᥫ᭡ lee dongwook ᥫ᭡ wi hajun ᥫ᭡ ok taecyeon ᥫ᭡ wonbin

[yumejo]

a blood-sucking pas de deux.

「vamp!tenshouin eichi x vivian // kiteichi - vampire au」 ↳ gift for @yumebait ! cw: a little suggestive

The complications of being a sickly child and a vampire was unconscionable—it meant requiring to consume more blood than average, which was a deplorable and maddening task on its own. Yet even for Eichi who had all the necessary resources to manage such a condition, he loathed it.

Dropping a sanguine-coloured tablet into a glass nestled on his desk, Eichi gaped with enervated eyes as it dissolved and tainted the pellucid water within. The amount of blood supplements Eichi was forced to deplete was downright lamentable, but there was nothing more he could do but guzzle them down all the same.

Suddenly, as he brought the crescent rim up to his lips, there was a resounding knock; and before he could inquire on who it was, the very visage he yearned to see popped her cute little head in. “Eichi, I heard from Keito-kun that you were still here⋯ shouldn’t you be home by now?”

From behind Eichi’s frame, the moon illuminated through the window pane and ensnared his entity in an ethereal and sanctified glow; even if he was anything but holy.

“I had some extra proposals I needed to work through. Knights’ producer gave me three different ideas for the same live⋯ she’s quite the hardworker,” Eichi laughed quietly, albeit the sound was strained as he took a sip of the sickeningly red ‘water’, “but I know you’re not here to listen to me blather about work. Is there anything I can do for you, Vivian?”

Eichi’s beloved Vivian—her radiance was salubrious, ameliorating the natural decay he constantly underwent and filling him with vitality. His best friend and a human, too; which was always a topic of conversation whenever she was mentioned around his family.

Shaking her head softly, Vivian ambled deeper into the student council, door closing behind her figure, and reiterated, “I just wanted to check in on you.”

Incapable of suppressing a smile, no matter how exhausted he was he could always smile for her, Eichi relinquished another laugh. “I’m fine, I promise,” he assured her, once again taking a desperate sip as a burst of dizziness spun in his head, “I won’t say no if you want to watch over me, though♪”

“Of course!” Vivian twittered whilst capering over to one of the unoccupied chairs settled at the side of the room. “I’ll stay with you until you’re finished.

A certain, familiar dissatisfaction threaded through Eichi’s emotions as he examined how far away she was from him. “Bring the chair closer, we’re friends; you shouldn’t be sitting all the way over there,” he requested, a surge of appeasement overthrowing him as Vivian complied.

Now with her right beside him as he oversaw these proposals, Eichi was content.

Although, truthfully, a maelstrom of abysmal censure was brewing within the pit of his stomach.

Vivian’t sweet, exquisite scent wafted in the air to Eichi’s heightened senses, corroding his entire body from the inside out with a ravenous hunger. It was pitiful of him, truly—hence how he had already begun to berate himself.

Eichi should already be at home, not here overworking himself to the absolute limits of his ability, and he shouldn’t have asked Vivian to come closer to him when he knows how thirsty he is—but he couldn’t cope with the possibility of being so far from her.

“Not now⋯” he uttered beneath his breath, shaky and feverish gasps of air emitting from his trembling lips. Desperately, Eichi began to swill his supplementary ‘water’ with more urgency.

Ah, fate was truly unfair.

Tilting her head solicitously as she heard Eichi murmuring, Vivian reached forward and placed a delicate hand on his forearm. “A-Are you okay, Eichi? You’re pale⋯”

“I’m alright. Just have a little bit of a headache,” Eichi gave her a vague, half-heated lie, although part of him knows that Vivian is already seeing right through him, “Don’t worry about me—khh!”

“Eichi!” Vivian’s disquieted voice tore through the pain throbbing in his body, and she brought herself even closer to him; the propinquity making him woozy and unbearably weak. “Y-You need something more than these supplements, right?”

“Vivian, don’t,” Eichi snapped, wretched despair twisting his guts in a mess, “Don’t say it.”

In the worst cases, Eichi was so damn tenacious, wasn’t he?

“I’m not giving you a choice!”

Thrusting her wrist in front of Eichi’s face, Vivian hopelessly pressed the joint against his lips; shivering as the wet flesh grazed such a sensitive spot.

“Drink from me⋯ and you can buy me dinner after, okay? Deal?”

Vivian’s pulse vibrated against his lips as he found himself kissing the supple skin, a delirious-sounding moan overflowing from his hoarse vocals as he inhaled her scent so closely. “Ahh⋯ you’re playing so cruelly,” Eichi whispered, tongue running across her wrist as he abdicated his personal morals, “I’ll be gentle.”

Finally conceding, the voracity reverberating from the depths of his core pervading so acutely he couldn’t ignore it any longer, Eichi parted his mouth wide; pearly-white and sharp fangs glistening in the scintillating moonlight.

That gleam only dissipated into an unholy darkness the moment his fangs sunk deeply into Vivian’s flesh, losing its hallowed lustre as he committed such a monstrous act.

Squeezing an eye shut as she winced in pain, a piercing and unparalleled sting course through the excoriated spot, Vivian exhaled. She could never begin to imagine the kind of harrow Eichi goes through, so sacrificing this little bit of pain was the least she could sacrifice for him.

As Eichi’s fangs pumped the natural aphrodisiac into Vivian’s veins, he tenderly held onto her; lithe fingers stroking her skin to alleviate any discomfort. Once he scrutinised her cheeks flushing with warmth, eyes glazing over with a mind-numbing daze, Eichi, as weak as he was, smiled against her wrist.

“Mm—!” Eichi melted into her as he slowly began to suck, the succulent taste of her blood seeping across his tongue. It was delicious, it was heavenly—it was everything he’d been dreaming of.

Eichi had drank from Vivian before—they’ve been friends since the beginning of their tale—but he always abhorred the idea of asking for any of her blood. It had been such a long time since he had tasted her, he nearly forgot how utterly delectable she was.

Eichi would rather die alone in a ditch than burden her with such a duty of giving him her blood any more than as a last resort. She was far too precious to him⋯

Resonating within the room was Vivian’s quiet, hushed mewls and the lewd squelching of Eichi slurping from her wrist. “E-Eichi⋯ mmh,” Vivian called out his name benginly, her body quivering in her seat as hot pleasure permeated through the seams of her nerves; the pain was almost nonexistent to her now, mind only able to rivet onto the rapture.

And god, for Eichi, each little pule emanating from her mellifluous vocals only made his instincts palpitate and galvanised him into sucking a little harder on her sensitive joint; desperate to hear more of her cries. It was selfish, naturally, but she was too irresistible like this. 

Pliant and drowning in the haze of arousing blood-sucking, Vivian was angelic—even as he perpetrated her with his wicked desires, her needy silhouette should be memorialised,

“Vivian, stay still,” Eichi whispered between greedy gulps, his words making her descend further into his sinful thrall. “Just a little more, please⋯ then, I’ll buy you anything you want for dinner; with dessert, of course.”

Hearing that implore, Vivian fluttered her eyes shut and nodded.

[gidakata]

"...my, what a strange woman indeed..." HORROR FIC & AU NAVIGATION (MULTI-FANDOM) (PLEASE DNI IF YOU ARE UNDER 18. PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU DO NOT LIKE RPF. DDDNE WARNING FOR GENERAL HORROR CONTENT, DUBIOUS MORALS, OCCASIONAL SMUT, ETC. ALWAYS READ TAGS, ALWAYS READ WARNINGS.)

𝓐𝓤𝓼

Stray Kids heart to heart (Minsung) I'm Haunted By Your Love (Minsung)

BTS TBA

Krnb & Khh TBA TBA TBA

𝓕𝓲𝓬𝓼 Stray Kids Spiral. Nothing But Trouble Rosario Angel's Trumpet Angel's Trumpet 2022 AMANITA. I Care Too Much About You I Let The Wrong One Go. Suddenly, I'm Drowning I Don't Recognize You Anymore. All I Need To Feel If I Want To Stay Alive, You Should Never Cross My Mind. To Reach The Next Morning Feeling My Faith Erode (with @btchbtchna) Baby Can't You See...? Just Follow Your Eyes Don't Let Me Die Here A Blade Of Grass Where Is My Mind? Need A Reference Photo? PANDORA [DISCONTINUED] Whisper heart to heart (fic ver.) Even Expression Is A Luxury (incomplete) hesperidium. (incomplete) Series Twitter Drabbles Backed-Up GORETOBER Interactive Fics VORACIOUS BTS TBA Khh & Krnb TBA

TBA TBA

[wlfllia]

𝖒𝖞 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌 !

一 este blog irá conter conteúdo maduro em sua maioria [vai ter uns fluffy aqui ou ali porque as vezes eu sou sentimental]. se você é menor ou não se interessa por esse tipo de conteúdo, peço que procure outro blog para seu entretenimento e não me encha o saco ou irei ser bem boca suja com você!💋

一 normalmente sempre escrevo para os seguintes: NCT [127, Dream] . STRAY KIDS . ATEEZ & ENHYPEN [não escrevo com a maknae line do enha] mas estou aberta para pedidos de outros grupos. quando me dá a louca eu escrevo com alguns jogadores de futebol também, mas meu conteúdo é focado para artistas musicais num geral, principalmente no POP, K-POP e KHH.

一 apenas escrevo com artistas masculinos. não me sinto confiante escrever com artistas femininas, pois não acho que seja um tipo de escrita que eu domine a ponto de ficar bom para entregar para vocês, então procuro não me arriscar.

一 as atualizações podem ser rápidas ou levarem alguns dias/semanas. isso irá depender da minha criatividade e minha disponibilidade pois além de ser apenas um hobby, eu sou meio ocupada com coisas na minha vida pessoal, como trabalho, faculdade e etc.

一 todos os personagens SEM EXCEÇÃO são maiores de idade, tanto nos textos como em nossa realidade atual. de forma alguma irei escrever com menores ou desenvolver relacionamentos entre menores em minhas histórias. fiquem avisados e não insistam.

一 adoro escrever e ler sobre o tema ABO. apesar de ainda não ter me aventurado tanto, tenho alguns projetos com essa temática guardadinhos e adoraria ouvir as ideias de vocês sobre esse tipo de AU!

一 totalmente adepta ao br!au. Adoro dar características brasileirinhas para os nossos fav's. podem ter certeza que isso será algo que inconscientemente terá na grande maioria dos meus textos.

一 não trabalho com kinks como: age play, rape play, wax play, pet play, odolatria (e mais alguns por ai). também precuro me aventurar muito pouco no bdsm por não dominar tudo que ocorre dentro do kink. normalmente minhas escritas das relações entre os personagens sempre são mais vanilla sex com degradação e/ou muito dirty talk mas também nada tão avassalador, sempre tem um "gatinha" ou " princesa" largado entre uma fala ou outra pois escrever coisas muito pesadas não é meu forte e também não é do meu agrado.

obrigada pelo carinho e compreensão :)

[jwooyoung]

kpop (+a lil khh) title tracks tier list 2022

I was tagged by @softhyungkyun (hi victoria !! 🥰) to do my tier list (which you can find here). i made an extra section for the songs I'll truly never listen to again 😔 also please imagine ABOVE s tier MIITO and rad museum's album lmao

tagging @neonun-au @stickyyong @bibivengeance @btbtual if you want :)

[lunaverrse]

jay: 🌌🎀🎵☄️

OC EMOJI ASKS

aceitando

Jay Kang : feat. @greencruz 🐯

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

Cara, essa pergunta é simplesmente maravilhosa, porque o Jay foi um imenso surto coletivo na minha cabeça. Quando eu pensei nele, primeiramente era pra ser outro personagem meu, que é o Max (aquele Lee Know que eu apliquei na mesma cmm, kkkkkkk). Só que eu não consegui o fc e nem a vaga que eu queria, que era o Minho mesmo e a vaga de main dancer e fiquei PISTOLA. Nisso, debatendo muito com a minha amiga, acabei escolhendo o Yunho de fc e pegando a posição de rapper. Foi aí que ela me sugeriu usar o Mingi como faceclaim e eu achei que seria uma boa. Devaneios à parte, ele nasceu de uma vontade que eu sempre tive de ter um personagem meio antagonista, que tivesse a moral toda desviada. Honestamente, eu acho que não deu certo, porque o Jay até achava que era muito fora da lei, quando na verdade é uma pessoa que se importa demais com a opinião alheia e é bem sensível, se parar pra pensar bem. Ele teve uma construção totalmente independente na minha cabeça e eu fiz ele na loucura mesmo, sem planejamento algum e só tocando a coisa no impulso. No fim das contas, ele tá no meu top personagens favoritos da vida toda e até hoje eu não posso dizer com propriedade como ele é, toda vez vou aprendendo alguma coisa nova, como se estivesse conhecendo um amigo mesmo.

🎀 RIBBON - how would they fit into other worlds / aus? what aus would you like to try out? what fictional world would they fit / not fit into?

Certamente não se encaixaria em um au desses de empresa, aquele lá é um bicho livre demais pra isso. Ao mesmo tempo, acho que consigo ver ele em um au pós apocalíptico de qualquer tipo. Talvez um universo semelhante ao de Akira ou Ghost in the Shell, até Blade Runner. Uma pegada meio cyberpunk, acho que combinaria. E um au de zumbis, né. Acho que, junto com a Haeri e o Ed, ele e a Jimmy teriam grandes chances em um universo desses.

🎵 MUSIC NOTE - what is their playlist like? their favourite artists? do you associate a particular song with them?

A playlist dele é uma bagunça organizada de khh e emo. Jamais esqueceremos dele e da Evie trocando indicações emo quando ambos estavam na fossa. Os artistas favoritos dele são o Epik High, Zico, Bang Yongguk, TigerJK e Penomeco. Dentro do universo deles, obviamente é fã #1 da Jimmy, e nem é por puxar saco, ele realmente acha a música dela ótima. Uma música que eu associo a ele é Meteor do Changmo, que na real, é um artista inspo dele. Vejo muito da trajetória do Jay nessa música, como artista e como pessoa.

☄️ COMET - what do people assume about them? are they right?

Eu tenho pra mim que as pessoas vêem ele como um babaca mesmo. Pelo menos as pessoas que estão fora do círculo. O ponto é que ele construiu uma imagem pública e não se esforça muito pra mudar isso, porque funciona como uma armadura. Se ele continuar parecendo pouco acessível, não vai ser tão atingido pelas situações ao redor. Claro que ele quer que pensem assim, mas as pessoas estão erradas, certamente. O Jay é uma pessoa muito mais sensível e exposta do que costuma mostrar, mas só a Jimmy e pessoas muito próximas têm esse acesso.

[badtabbywhitecat]

gurmukhi to latin, on processing java version

// 古尔木基字母与拉丁字母映射 String[] gurmukhi = {"ੴ", "ਅ", "ਆ", "ਇ", "ਈ", "ਉ", "ਊ", "ਏ", "ਐ", "ਓ", "ਔ", "ਕ", "ਖ", "ਖ਼","ਗ", "ਗ਼","ਘ", "ਙ", "ਚ", "ਛ", "ਜ","ਜ਼", "ਝ", "ਞ", "ਟ", "ਠ", "ਡ", "ਢ", "ਣ", "ਤ", "ਥ", "ਦ", "ਧ", "ਨ", "ਪ", "ਫ", "ਬ", "ਭ", "ਮ", "ਯ", "ਰ","ੜ", "ਲ", "ਵ", "ਸ਼", "ਸ", "ਹ", "ਲ਼", "ਅੰ", "ਫ਼","ੈ", "ੁ","ੂ","ੀ","ਿ","ਾ","ੇ","ੋ","ੌ"}; String[] latin = {"ik", "a", "aa", "i", "ee", "u", "oo", "ae", "ai", "o", "au", "k", "kh","khh", "g", "ghh","gh", "ng", "ch", "chh", "j", "z","jh", "ny", "tt", "tth", "dd", "ddh", "nn", "t", "th", "d", "dh", "n", "p", "ph", "b", "bh", "m", "y", "r","rr", "l", "v", "sh", "s", "h", "ll", "n", "f","ai","u","uu","ii","i","aa","ee","oo","au"}; PFont pbFont, ltFont;

// 找到古尔木基字母对应的拉丁字母 String transliterate(String gurmukhiText) {   String latinText = "";   for (int i = 0; i < gurmukhiText.length(); i++) {     String currentChar = gurmukhiText.substring(i, i+1);     int index = indexOf(gurmukhi, currentChar);     if (index != -1) {       latinText += latin[index];     } else {       latinText += currentChar;     }   }   return latinText; } // 找到字符在数组中的位置 int indexOf(String[] array, String item) {   for (int i = 0; i < array.length; i++) {     if (array[i].equals(item)) {       return i;     }   }   return -1; } void setup() {   size(400, 400);   background(255);   pbFont = createFont("Magaz Light", 24);   textAlign(LEFT, CENTER);   ltFont = createFont("MTR Sung", 24);   fill(0);   String gurmukhiText = "ਇਹ ਗੁਰਮੁਖੀ ਟੈਕਸਟ ਹੈ।";   String latinText = transliterate(gurmukhiText);   textFont(pbFont);   text(gurmukhiText, 30, height/3);   textFont(ltFont);   text(latinText, 30, height/3 + 40); } void draw() { }

[dreamperfectarchives]

KHH Masterlist

༉‧₊˚✧ DPR/ Dream Perfect Regime

DPR Live/ Hong Dabin

[Neon Lights] — Club!AU

↬ Summary: You and Dabin work in a club, that’s it, that’s the fic.

(The link for this fic will send you to my main account)

[Sweet Silence] - Bet!AU

↬ Summary: Dabin makes a bet with his friends without thinking about the consequences and gets into trouble.

Or boys will be boys, Ugh.

DPR Ian/ Christian Yu

[One Step Closer] — Post-Apocalypse!AU

↬ Summary: The worlds come to an end, there’s chaos and dead-beat silence, but above all that, you’re one step closer to a happy ending.

or you’re looking for your brother and find Ian.

(The link for this fic will send you to my main account)

[Written In Pages] - Work!AU

↬ Summary: Sometimes, it’s for the best.

(The link for this fic will send you to my main account)

[ace-angel-judas]

Warming Up

Pairing: Nari/Sik-K 

Series: GroovyRoom 3rd Member AU 

Rating: Fluff 

Synopsis: Nari slowly warms up to Sik-K 

Nari's phone buzzed, making her stare at it for a few moments. Did Jay really have to put everyone in a group chat? Now certain people had her number and we're calling her.

Someone named Kwon Minsik.

Groaning, Nari pulled on the ends of her hair before picking up the phone. How did she have 30 missed calls in the span of ten minutes?! Pressing the button, she sighed and answered.

"This is Nari speaking," She stated coldly.

"You picked up!" Minsik beamed through the phone.

"Congratulations, I did, now what is it you need?" Nari sighed to herself.

She could tell Minsik was grinning from the other end of the phone, "Can you come to my studio please?"

"Is it for work?" Nari asked, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Yes, of course,"

"Fine,"

Ending the call, Nari picked up her laptop and began the walk to Minsik's studio. This man really didn't get the point when someone was trying to reject his advances, which were painfully obvious.

Nari found his studio pretty easily, opening the door and walking inside. He looked up, a large smile on his face as she sat down in the spare chair and opened her laptop. She didn’t say anything, making Minsik lean forward to her. 

“Hello,” He grinned. 

“Hi,” Nari stated bluntly, “What did you need?” 

“Is it true you used to be a kpop star?” 

Looking up at him, Nari was ready to walk out of the room. Minsik laughed it off, crossing his legs in his chair. 

“I’m kidding,” Minsik stated, “Are you any good at beats?” 

“Yeah, move,” 

She stood up and moved his chair out of the way, looking through the file on the computer in front of her. Nari didn’t say it out loud, but he wasn’t half bad at making a beat. Her fingers tapped against the soundboard a few more times and she typed on the keyboard. 

Minsik watched her curiously, peering over her shoulder as she worked. This girl was no joke, Nari knew exactly what she was doing. He slid back beside her in the chair, pouting as he watched. Her hair was tied in a messy bun, no make up and dressed in tights and a baggy shirt, it was really cute the way she dressed. 

Shifting, Minsik leaned closer to watch her work. Nari stopped for a moment before continuing, slowly, Minsik rested his head on her shoulder. She didn’t nudge him away or say anything, simply continuing her work. 

“Your good at this,” He whispered. 

“I’ve been doing it since I was eleven so I would need to be,” Nari glanced at him before looking back at the screen, “Was it only this track you needed help with?” 

“No,” He quickly lied, “Some others too,” 

Nodding, Nari slipped away and passed the mouse to him. Minsik smiled slightly, she was warming up to him.