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mint-yooxgi · 9 months ago

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Kinktober Day 13 - Demigod!Jongho + Praise & Possession

Anonymous Said: Hi !! Thank you for this amazing month that kinktober will be 👀 I was thinking about Demigod Jongho and maybe Praise + possesive 👀 (anything with Ateez will make me happy tbh) thank you for you work ♡♡ A/n: I got a little carried away with this one lmaooo but honestly, I really like the way it turned out. Jongho is a little stern in this one, but he means well. Also, I made him a son of Apollo in this, so I hope you pick up the little hints I left throughout that point to that hehehe and as a side note, I honestly think this is one of my favourite banners I made this year for this Warnings/Genre/Rating: 18+ MDNI - Smut, Mature, Established Relationship, Possession, Brief Insecurity and Angst to Start Word Count: 3,178 Kinktober 2024 Mini Masterlist

“Darling,” The soft hum of a baritone voice calls your attention towards the bedroom. “Are you going to come out yet?”

You pause in front of the bathroom mirror, giving yourself a final once over while biting your lower lip. You hands toy with the very short hemline of the dress you wear before smoothing out the front. The tips of your fingers tremble, and you take a deep breath in to steady your nerves.

Lifting your head, you meet your own gaze once more.

“Are you sure about this?” You call back, grimacing slightly as the strapless dress seems to want to slide down your figure with every twist and turn of your body.

“More sure of anything than I’ve ever been in my entire life.” Comes his eager reply. “Come. I wish to see you in the dress I bought for you.”

Swallowing your ever building nerves, you turn towards the door. Straightening your back, you take a slow, deep breath in before reaching out for the handle. A moment later, you finally exit the bathroom.

Nothing but the sound of your heels clicking on the hardwood floor can be heard as you step into the bedroom. Your walk is a little shaky, whole body heating with nerves. Your gaze is averted to the side as you stop directly in front of Jongho.

The moment you had stepped out in that all too tight dress that Jongho knew you would look ravishing in, his breathing had stopped. He had gripped the one arm of the brown leather chair that he’s sitting, leaning forward slightly as his lips parted in a low exhale. Slowly, his gaze raked over your figure, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes darkened.

He was right.

“You look ravishing.” The admission is but a breathless exhale on his lips, pants growing tighter with every passing second he spends taking in your beauty before him.

Again, your fingers begin playing with the hem of your dress.

“Are you sure?” Your voice comes out a bit uneasy. “Because I’m not really used to wearing something like this, and I feel like I’m falling out of it; and it’s just really tight in all the wrong places; and it makes me look weird and frumpy; and you can see all my weird rolls and lumps-“

“Darling.” Jongho’s firm tone cuts into your nervous ramblings. His eyes are dark, head tilted forward as he gazes up at you with a stern expression. “What about yourself do you think that I don’t find attractive?”

You purse your lips, looking away in shame.

“It’s not that I think you don’t find me attractive currently…” You mutter, chewing your bottom lip between your teeth.

He tilts his head slightly. “Then, what is it, My Darling?”

Again, you purse your lips, internally debating on if you want to tell him what’s always been at the back of your mind. Squeezing your eyes shut, you take a deep breath in in an attempt to quell your racing heart.

“I’m just afraid that once you see all of me you’ll realize how unattractive I am.”

The admission is but a hushed whisper on your lips, and the tense silence that immediately follows makes your nerves skyrocket tenfold. Even the sun outside seems to dim, casting the whole room in shadows.

A shiver caresses your spine.

What feels like an eternity passes before you’re being startled out of your thoughts by his firm voice.

“Look at me.”

Cautiously, you peek your eyes open.

“I could sit here and lavish you in tender praises, but my soft words seem to mean nothing to you.” His gaze is sharp, calculating and focussed as he crosses a leg over his knee. Leaning back in his seat, Jongho raises a hand to his chin, contemplating. “Perhaps I have been too careful with my love for you, not wanting to scare you off with how intense my true feelings can be.”

You blink at him, brow furrowing slightly in confusion. “Jongho, what are you-“

“My words mean nothing if you don’t believe them.” Again, he cuts you off, rubbing his hand over his chin in thought. “I am nothing if you don’t believe in me.”

“I do believe in you!” Your eyes go wide, hands reaching out to him in defence of yourself.

“Then, do you think I would ever lie to you about your beauty?” His sharp gaze meets your own.

Your lips part in an answer, but words refuse to come out.

“Do you realize that your beauty comes from who you are, and not just some artificial outwards facade?” He continues, tilting his head forward as his closed fist supports the edge of his chin. “I could sit here and tell you all about your intelligence, your kindness, your compassion… Everything, and so much more that makes you unbelievably breathtaking to me, but you have conditioned yourself to believe your worth comes from something superficial.”

You remain silent, averting your gaze to the floor in shame.

“You’re much smarter than that.” Jongho shifts forward, uncrossing his legs to rest his elbows on his knees. “I know you’re much smarter than that. It’s what made me fall for you in the first place.”

“Jongho-“

He clicks his tongue, “I am not finished.”

Smartly, you clamp your lips shut, waiting for him to continue.

“I will admit… I bought you this dress because I wanted to see you in it. I wanted to see all of you.” Slowly, he trails his gaze from the very tips of your toes all the way up to your eyes. He licks his lips. “I am tried of you hiding your body from me when it is the most sinful delight I have ever had the pleasure of resting my gaze upon. Aphrodite herself cannot compare to you, My Darling.”

A soft gasp escapes you, heart skipping a beat inside of your chest. “But that’s your aunt!”

“My point exactly, Darling.” The grin that stretches across his features is nothing short of devious. “But if you still won’t take my word for it, then just listen to the way my body calls to your own.”

This time when Jongho leans back in his seat, he keeps his legs spread wide. His hands grip the arms of the chair, his eyes locked on your every reaction as you finally take in him sitting before you. Almost instantly, your gaze settles on the prominent tent in his slacks, a heat flooding through your body as you realize that you have done this to him. All because you wore his dress.

You lick your lips, flicking your gaze back upwards to meet his own.

“I have always been told that sometimes, actions can speak louder than words.” His voice is but a low drawl as he tilts his head back slightly, looking up at you with nothing but a deep hunger resting within his eyes. “I think it’s time I let certain actions speak for me.”

“What are you-“

“Shhh.” His tone is firm, lifting a hand and snapping his fingers closed in a silencing motion. “I don’t want to hear another word from you, unless it be a blissful cry of my name.”

Instantly, you straighten in your spot, curling your lips inwards as a thrill travels right through your core. You’ve never heard him use this kind of tone with you before, nor have you ever seen that dark, ravenous look in his eyes. To say you’re excited to see what he does next would be an understatement.

“Turn around.”

Your eyes catch on the way his one hand settles over his prominent bulge, and a soft whine escapes your lips.

He smirks.

“I said,” A firm jerk of his chin is given towards an object in the corner of the room, followed by him lifting a finger in a circular motion. “Turn. Around.”

This time, without hesitation, you do as told. Facing the opposite direction, your eyes catch on what it is exactly that he wants you to be looking at.

Jongho’s large, full length mirror rests across the room, perfectly capturing the two of you in it’s reflection. You can see the way he slowly begins to palm himself, his eyes fixated on your figure.

“Walk closer.” He commands, squeezing over himself lightly.

Slowly, you take a few steps forward on shaky legs. Your eyes dart every which way around the room, unsure of where you should be looking for the moment. The mere sight of him holds your attention, but the closer you get, the more your figure takes up the majority of the mirror’s surface.

“Don’t just look at me, Darling,” Jongho pops the button on his slacks, sliding the zipper down meticulously. “I want you to admire yourself as I get off to the very sight of you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, heart fluttering at his words. A heat courses through your veins, feeling yourself clench around nothing as he slides his hand beneath his pants.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” Again, he trails his gaze over your entire figure. “How fucking sexy you look right now?”

Your tongue comes out to wet your lips, swallowing lightly.

“My Beautiful Goddess…” He hums, hand beginning to stroke over his cock slowly. “All for me to admire…”

The way he leans his head back, a low groan escaping him, has your heart racing. You can see his throat working, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly.

He tilts his predatory gaze back to you.

“Fuck- your ass look perfect in that dress.” Lips curl over teeth as he lets out a hiss. “I cannot wait to have my hands all over you, Darling. It’s taking everything in me right now not to tear that dress from you. I’m surprised I’ve even lasted this long, already. I’ve been ready to ravage you since even before you stepped out in front of me like this.”

Your lips part slightly, a low whine escaping you.

“Do you know how difficult it is to hide how you make me feel?” He hums, hand beginning to steadily pump over his cock beneath his slacks. “It’s almost embarrassing how much you turn me on. I can’t count the amount of times I’ve had to hide how hard you make me just from merely thinking about you.”

Lightly, your legs begin to tremble, thoughts consumed by the image of him being affected by you in such a way. You press your thighs together, eyes pleading with his own as you meet his gaze in the mirror.

Immediately, he catches the movement.

“How I’ve longed for those thighs to be wrapped around me.” He licks his lips. “Do you know how often I’ve fantasized about you sitting on my face? How often I’ve dreamt of feeling all of you pressing against me, and drowning me in everything you? Long since have I wanted to watch you above me, riding me until your legs give out.” A small hiss as he clenches his teeth at the thought. “Fuck- what a sight you would be, too… And then when you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, I’d pin you down and make you fucking scream my name.”

“Jongho…” His name is but a whimper on your lips.

“Look at yourself.” His eyes flash, shifting slightly on the chair and pulling out his cock. “You get the privilege to touch that glorious body every single fucking day of your life. Do you know how long I’ve been craving to be able to say the same? To be able to simply breath the same air as you?”

Pants escape him in succession, a crazed look in his eyes as he stares you down. His hand sets a steady pace over his cock, thumb occasionally flicking over the tip and spreading his precome around.

At the way he sees you staring at his cock, he chuckles. His hand stops, squeezing his base as he proudly puts himself on display for you.

“Do you see what you do to me, Darling?” He coos, giving himself a languid stroke. “Do you see how hard you make me?”

As if to emphasize his words, you see his cock twitch in his hand. A moment later, he spreads his thighs wider, sliding the slightest bit more down in his chair.

Every second your eyes are on him, he revels in. It’s only a matter of time before he’ll get you to look at yourself the same way you’re looking at him right now.

“Do you know how badly I want to bury this fat cock inside of you and split you open? How badly I feel the need to claim you as my own and have you screaming my fucking name to the heavens so that everyone knows who you belong to?” His chest heaves, and you can see his whole body trembling from the mere thought. “Do you know how sacred of a privilege it will be to say that your body, - your stunning body - and your very soul belong to me, and only me?”

“Jongho-“ You squeeze your thighs together, practically feeling the way you’re beginning to soak through your panties from his words alone. “Jongho, please-“

“I’m sorry, My Darling,” He tuts, shaking his head. “It doesn’t work that way. If you want me, then you have to let me see you.”

The way you notice his gaze flick down to your dress in the reflection of the mirror says it all.

Taking a small breath in, you steel your nerves.

Slowly, and with trembling hands, you begin to reach upwards. You can feel his eyes following your every movement as your fingers slip behind your back. Grasping the small zipper of the dress, you begin to drag it down your body.

Jongho’s breathing deepens, hand resuming its pace over his cock as he watches you unzip your dress. His whole body heats, thighs tensing as he holds himself back from coming right then and there. The small portion of your bare back that he can see finally being revealed to him nearly sends him into a spiral, the fingers of his opposite hand sinking harshly into the leather of the chair.

“That’s it, Darling,” His voice is but a rasp as he begins shaking in need. “Let me see that sexy body of yours. That glorious, sexy body… Show me all of you.”

The moment you finish undoing the zipper, you pause. Your one hand supports the front of the dress, ensuring it doesn’t slip from your body too soon as you prepare yourself for what you’re about to do.

Jongho catches your gaze once more in the mirror.

An audible hitch in his breath can be heard as you turn to face him. His fingers tighten even further on the arm of the chair as you step towards him, each movement calculated as you maintain eye contact with him the whole time. The only sounds in the room that can be heard are the clicking of your heels, and both of your heavy breaths.

Settling yourself between his legs, you stand before him. The way he looks up at you in awe, that dark lust and primal hunger still swirling beneath the surface, makes your heart flutter. The fact that you can see his cock twitching as he continues to pump himself with his hand causes the corner of your lips to quirk upwards.

The dress falls to the floor.

“My Darling- Fuck!” His eyes go wide, pupils blown out in lust as he jerks suddenly in his hand.

A loud cry of your name echoes around the room as Jongho tosses his head back, coming all over the expensive tailored suit he wears. His hand works over himself faster, hooded eyes still locked on your figure despite the position he’s in. There’s no way he would ever tear his gaze from the beautiful sight that is you, especially not now that you’ve finally fully revealed yourself to him.

Low growls escape him, chest heaving as rope after rope of white come splatters against his clothes. The wet sounds of his hand stroking over his cock only get louder, moans increasing as he drinks in every bare inch of you standing before him.

“My Darling,” He pants, slowing his movements over his cock as he catches his breath. “My Goddess.”

A soft, bashful smile tugs at your lips. Carefully, you reach up to brush his damp hair back from his forehead, stomach fluttering as this moment in time settles around you. The fact that he’s still looking up at you with such tender affection, that deep lust swirling within, causes another pleasant shiver to caress your spine.

“Only you could ever make me feel this way.” He breathes out, turning his head to place a gentle kiss upon your palm as you cup his cheeks.

A melodic giggle escapes your lips, and he swears it’s one of the most beautiful sounds he’s ever heard. However, what really makes his head spin is when you settle yourself into his lap, straddling him with a thigh on either side.

“That was insanely sexy of you, Ho-oh.” Again, you brush his hair back tenderly from his forehead.

“I live to please My Goddess,” He hums, leaning up to press his lips to yours.

You smile into the kiss, parting from him slightly to nuzzle his nose with your own.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted you.” Leaning forward, you rest your forehead on his own. “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not.” His chest rumbles in agreement, his hands slipping around to grab your ass. Eagerly, he squeezes the flesh appreciatively. “Though, I am always more than happy to show you the affect you have on me. All you have to do is ask.”

Again, you giggle, shifting the slightest bit forward so that your core is pressing directly over his cock. The way he groans at the feeling makes you clench around nothing.

“Did I make My Darling soak her pretty little panties already?” He grins, pulling you even closer against him.

“Keep talking like you were before, and I’ll soak even more than just my panties.” You mirror his grin, flicking your eyebrows at him teasingly.

A pleased rumble shakes his chest, his eyes seeming to glow as your hands trace over his shoulders.

“Believe me, Darling,” His voice drops into a low drawl as he leans into your ear. “I fully plan on making you soak both my face and my thighs many times over by the end of tonight.”

Your heart skips a beat in excitement, clenching hard as your hips involuntarily roll over his own.

A soft moan escapes his lips.

“Oh, yeah?” An airy whimper accompanies your words. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

His gaze flits passed you, catching on his own reflection in the mirror as you sit in his lap.

He smirks.

“I’ve got a few ideas.”

#cultofdionysusnet #Jongho smut #jongho scenarios #jongho x reader #ateez smut #ateez x reader #atz scenarios #atz smut #atz x reader #ateez scenarios #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #kpop x reader #kpop au #demigod au

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dumbgoondog · 4 months ago

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Inumaki nsfw alphabet I BEG of you 🙏🙏

I gotchu

Cw/Tw - uuuhhhhhhhh dunno, he’s a perv I guess?

MDNI +18 NSFW

Toge Inumaki NSFW Alphabet

(A)ftercare - he’s not Prince Charming, he’s a let’s cuddle and rest together, kind of guy. Maybe he has a drink on the bedside stand for you both to share!

(B)ody Part - Ass and tits, thighs, tummy. He likes fat bitches, men and women, everyone in between and outside too.

(C)um - condom, he likes tying them off and too you, make you look like a pornstar. He’s kinda shnasty

(D)irty Secret - He wants to get pegged. Strap on, suck on it and fucked on it.

(E)xperience - None, he grew up at Jujustu tech with Panda, there weren’t many he could talk too. God has it made him a sex fiend and pervert tho. He’s a Pepsi with twelve mentos in him.

(F)avorite Position - On the bed, missionary, on the floor, doggy, on the wall, sideways, forwards, backwards, reverse, upside down, carrying, raw- you get it

(G)oofy - VERY. He loves laughing, enjoying the funny things, he wants things to be relaxed between you two!

(H)air - messy white/grey hair, not groomed, washed but a bit musky still. He could do better. If you’re hairy tho? Let him at it. He wants to explore the jungle.

(I)ntimacy - surprisingly very! He’s a bit insecure about not being able to talk, it’s a disability tbh! Since he can’t talk tho, he’s constantly physically affectionate, trying to spend time with you, getting you gifts, helping you with things as you need, it’s great! If you have periods he has your periods tracked and has all the things to help you and keep you comfortable.

(J)ack off - often. Very often. His libido is HIGH. Mf jerks it at least once every other day. He’s a dog, it’s always the quiet ones

(K)ink - crying. Dacryphilia. Not because you’re in pain or unhappy, but from overstimulation or just the pleasure is really good! He’s a bit embarrassed about it tho.

(L)ocation - anywhere! His bean bag is a favorite tho! Jus so comfy!

(M)otivation - He’s really easy to get excited, skirts, a button undone, sweaty, working out, fresh from the shower, messy after work, bending ova even!

(N)o - I don’t know mb. Nothin illegal but he’s a freak

(O)ral - he can’t explain it, he’s just… nervous to use his mouth on you. He doesn’t think yer dirty no nothin, jus he’s always had people been tellin him to be careful with it. Kissin you is helpin with that tho and loves when you use your mouth on him!

(P)ace - power bottom. Otherwise a bratty teasin top, no in between. He’s tellin you to bounce, or push it back, or push in more. Whatever pace depends on how nice he’s feelin

(Q)uicky - Yes! Especially if neither of you finish and get to squirm after! The denial feels so good!

(R)isk - he’s willing to try things for sure, but he loves risk in public places a lot. Dirty talk, groping, fingering, jerking, grindin, you name it

(S)tamina - he’s got good stamina, not crazy stamina. You know what he does have tho? Like Gojo, he’s a cum dumper. He will cum again and again until he’s spent.

(T)oys - loves them, he has a collection! Vibrators and butt plugs! Yessir! Dildos and straps? Hell yeah! Damn he even is willing to try a cage if you want

(U)nfair - Very teasin, bratty and fun, but he’s slick too. He’s so sneaky about it and keeps up his decently calm and polite persona aroun everyone pretty good while he’s fondling your ass

(V)olume - He’s tryin to be quiet, muffle himself, he doesn’t want to accidentally say something, but he’s tryin doesn’t mean he’s good at it!

(W)ild Card - he wants to learn to pole dance and as a side gig be a stripper/pole dancer.

(X)-ray - stupid print boxers. Graffiti, animals, brands like cup ramen or soda, he has flags too but like… the British flag, Greenland flag, Pakistan. Why? It’s his secret hobby. Collecting country flag underwear. He’s got SpongeBob underwear where his dick fits where SpongeBob’s nose is like a cod piece.

(Y)es - he’s so up for multiple people joining in on the fun or watching. He’s secretly just such a whore and I have no basis for why he is but it feels correct! Have you seen how he has to do that tongue thang before speaking? You get it.

(Z)zz - honk mee mee mee. Cuddle up and sleep. G’night!

#dogs tag #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #x reader #jjk smut #smut #headcanon #jujustsu kaisen x reader #goon dog #inumaki x reader #jjk inumaki #inumaki toge #toge x reader #bad alphabet

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yullalightk · 2 months ago

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✨Diligence headcanons✨

Here's a couple of hcs that I thought of Diligence, (My beloved) whether it being romantic or platonic or just anything else👍️

There will be some angsty ones tho👀

Diligence is genderfluid, but mostly uses They/Them pronouce.

They are seceretly jealous of the Virtues who get to live more freely and do things that Diligence could never do anymore.. Example being: Eating, the ability to smell, being close to anything but human.. being intimate with someone❤️ Etc.. kinda sad tbh.

When they were a human, they used to work as a cop or security guard. And tried to continue they're job even in the Gaslight District but things didn't go as planned.

They get drunk REAL easily🍷they won't admit it though, 'cause they don't want to be seen as just as pathetic and weak like the Rotling they used to be.

More like a hc for the Virtues. Each of the 7 Virtues has their own birds which functions similarly to the crows in Demon Slayer.

Although Diligence HATES their old self, both a human and as a Rotling they still miss some aspects of their old life. And sometimes when they fall asleep take a break when nobody notices they would often dream about the happiest memories of they're lives, and would try to recall those memories even though they forgot most of them.

Diligence and Temperance are good friends. They aren't "close" persay but, they respect each other and would often chat and learn things about each other for a lil' bit.

Diligence is a perfectionist! (A habit they got form when they were a human!!) and often try their absolute best at everything

I feel like they have some bit of anger issues. They definitely do~ They get absolutely fed up! when things don't exactly go their way. Pretty petty huh? Still, it kinda fits👍️ Plus, I love 'em for it❤️❤️❤️

If they were in a relationship, they would try they're best to keep it a secret. They don't want their image of a heavenly Virtue to come crashing down. But they also don't want you to embarrass yourself as well. Reputation is important to them, but! you'll always be they're Number 1 priority💍

They can be PRETTY clingy towards you, like A. LOT. you two will do some occasional cuddling but Diligence would be reluctent to let you go. And would usually come up with excuses to continue with the cuddling sessions.🤗

You two would be a quite messy couple tbh.. with Diligence being as stuck up as they are it can be difficult to get them to losen up! You would try to get them to take a break and let lose, and have fun! sometimes it works, other times.. wel... let's just say, it didn't go as planned.

"C'mon boss! it's only one dance."

"..."

"You nervous boss?"

"What!? of course not. Just, worried that is all."

"You never will losen up will you?"

"Not a chance. But, with you I suppose a simple dance wouldn't hurt.."

"Phew! finally. I was worried you would go back to your duties again."

"Don't get your hopes up Rotling."

"Yes boss😅"

Weeell that's about it! Sorry if it's a bit hard to read.. and some hcs might be a bit too farfetched haha... Still! I hope it fun to read, and plus, I'm planning on making a pt2! But if there's any hc request feel free to let me know in askbox!

If you couldn't tell, I LOVE Diligence sm!!!

They have almost limited amount of screentime but, they have a lot of potentional when Ep2 of TGD drops! Can't wait to see them in action again. Anyhow, goodnight/day/afternoon everybody!

#yullalightk post #tgd diligence #Headcanons #diligence the gaslight district #I'm a simp your honor #I love them #I'll def make a pt2!#The gaslight district

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cbeargyu · 2 months ago

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ok so, this is based off a game called married in red but i want beomgyu to be the mainlead/bestfriend 😛😛 So basically you got invited to your old uni bestfriend (bgyu) by his fiancee w/o him knowing, and basically beomgyu is shock to find you at his wedding and gets nervous. A little back story for why beomgyu is shocked to see us again, basically beomgyu your one snd only bestfriend betrays you during a surgeon practice and tells the authorities that your the one that killed the patient and not him (girl...) so you then get sent to jail for a few years. OK, PRESENT TIME... You then planned to get revenge on him by killing his fiancee and frame it on beomgyu, telling everyone that he killed them because he heard a rumor that they cheated on him. anyways, that's it. I'm not really sure if you would actually reply to this, but at least i tried

MARRIED IN RED

summary: you return to the life you lost—uninvited to beomgyu’s wedding, dressed in blood-red and driven by revenge. what begins as a seductive game of manipulation ends in murder, deceit, and the destruction of everything he built. you’re not just here to haunt him. you’re here to end him.

pairing: beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: dark romance, psychological thriller, smut, angst, revenge, murder mystery.

warnings: smut, graphic murder, knife play, manipulation, blood, gaslighting, medical malpractice, false accusations, power imbalance, obsessive behavior, psychological trauma, emotional abuse, toxic dynamics, gore, suggestive content, unhinged reader, death, infidelity, mention of sexual assault (attempted), violence, mental breakdown, imprisonment, explicit language.

wc: 12K

notes: hi anon!! ok so tbh i’m not super into video games normally BUT the one you mentioned??? omg the premise got me sooo hooked 😭 i ended up watching a bunch of lore vids + different endings and literally got obsessed lol. i used a lot of the gameplay as inspo to build the story and added my own lil touches to make it ✨spicier✨. i really hope you enjoy it and that it came out close to what you were picturing!! i had so much fun writing it — definitely stepped out of my comfort zone a bit (even tho i've done yandere/violence themes before, i never went this deep 👀) so thank u sm for the request ily 💌

FLASHBACK: THE BETRAYAL

the room smelled like metal and nerves. antiseptic clung to your skin, the sterile kind that never quite washes off, no matter how hard you scrub. overhead, the surgical lights buzzed faintly, casting halos on everyone’s heads, ironic little crowns of fluorescent glory. you stood there, gloves tight against your hands, mask hiding the shape of your mouth but not the panic rising in your throat. this was supposed to be routine. a practice session. supervised. safe.

but then something went wrong.

you saw it first — the drop in heart rate, the tremble in the patient’s pulse. the resident nurse called out numbers you didn’t want to hear, and beomgyu froze. you remember his hands. how steady they used to be in class, always precise, always admired. but not now. now, they shook. not violently, not enough to notice unless you knew him like you did — like someone who once memorized the cadence of his breathing, the rhythm of his thoughts. you saw it in the twitch of his fingers, in the split-second delay when the arterial clamp slipped. the bleeding started then. red spilled into white, too much, too fast. you moved, instinct taking over, reaching for the sutures, trying to stop the flood before it became irreversible. beomgyu didn’t move.

and then he did.

but it was too late. the alarms screamed. the attending ran in. hands pushed yours aside. someone shouted. another called for help. and beomgyu… beomgyu took a step back. just one. just enough.

you didn’t sleep that night. didn’t eat. didn’t breathe without hearing those monitors flatline inside your skull. you thought maybe it would be labeled a mistake, a tragedy, an accident born from youth and pressure. you were wrong.

two days later, they came for you.

you were mid-shift, mopping sweat off your temple, when the white coats and sharp eyes cornered you in the hallway. they didn’t say much. they didn’t have to. someone had already spoken. someone had already placed blame. your name had been written in ink, cold and black, on a report you never saw. beomgyu’s name was nowhere.

when you were questioned, they said beomgyu had expressed “concern” over your technique. they said he “regretted” not speaking up earlier. they said you panicked in the OR. that you tried to take over. that your recklessness had cost a life. they said so many things, all carefully worded, all sharpened with just enough truth to make the lie believable.

you remember sitting in that empty room, steel table in front of you, hands trembling. not from guilt. from rage. from betrayal. from the image of his face on the other side of the glass, watching. silent. expressionless. not even sorry.

he didn’t visit you. not once. not during the trial, not after the verdict, not when they took your license, your dreams, your freedom. he vanished. became a name you couldn’t say without tasting ash.

years passed.

but you remembered.

you remembered how he looked at you right before the doors closed behind you — not with shame, not with pity, but with relief. you remembered that silence like a scalpel against your spine. clean. deep. final.

and you decided.

if he could tear your life apart to save his own, you could do the same. only worse. only slower.

and this time, you’d smile while doing it.

ACT ONE: THE INVITATION

you were in the middle of folding laundry when you found the envelope. cream-colored, thick, the kind of paper that crackles when bent, expensive just to touch. no return address. no hint. but you recognized the handwriting immediately — soft, rounded, a little too careful to be truly effortless. feminine. polite. unfamiliar.

you slid a finger under the seal and pulled the card out. gold lettering, embossed. a wedding. no — his wedding. the name hit your stomach first. choi beomgyu. and beside it, a name you didn’t recognize. yoon hana.

you stared at it for a long time, longer than you'd ever admit. your fingers clenched around the edge, and for a moment you imagined tearing it in half. but you didn’t. not yet.

the call came the next day.

“hi, is this…?” her voice was as pretty as her name sounded. delicate. sweet. almost translucent. “i hope this isn’t too forward, but i’m hana — beomgyu’s fiancée.”

you said nothing for a moment. your breath stilled.

“i found some photos of you two in his old albums,” she continued quickly, nervous, like she thought you might hang up. “college days. i had no idea you were so close. he… he never mentioned you.”

of course he didn’t.

“i wanted to surprise him. you were his best friend, right? i think it would mean so much to him if you came to the wedding. it’s not the same without people who really know you.”

you let out a breath — not a laugh, not quite — more like a quiet exhale of something heavy, bitter, ancient.

“he’ll be very surprised,” you said, voice steady, lips curling into a smile she couldn’t see.

“that’s what i’m hoping,” hana said, laughing softly, innocently, like a girl who had no idea she was dangling over a pit. “please say you’ll come.”

and you did.

not because of her kindness. not because of the sweetness in her voice, or the elegance in her words. but because you could already feel the pulse of something deep and dark moving beneath your skin. it had waited years for this — coiled and patient, like a snake in the grass. beomgyu had buried you once.

this time, you’d return the favor.

you spent the next few days preparing. not obsessively — not in the way you used to when exams loomed and futures were built on how steady your hands could be. this was different. calm. surgical. everything folded into neat little thoughts. what you’d wear. what you’d say. the tilt of your head when he saw you. the exact moment his perfect little world would begin to shake.

you imagined the way his eyes would widen, the hitch in his throat, the cold wash of memory creeping up his spine. he wouldn’t scream. no, he’d smile. he’d pretend. because beomgyu always wore his mask better than anyone — the gentle prodigy, the golden boy, the fallen angel with soft hands and a halo of innocence. no one ever saw what he really was underneath. but you did.

you always did.

you touched the edge of the wedding card again, ran your thumb across the gold print. not out of sentiment, but calculation. it was almost poetic. the beginning of the end would be wrapped in white and flowers and promises neither of them deserved.

he thought he could bury you in silence. in time. in absence.

but the past always shows up — dressed in red, smiling sweetly.

ACT TWO: THE REUNION

you arrive early, but no one notices.

it’s the kind of venue that whispers wealth from every corner — marble floors that gleam like water, tall windows draped in soft linen, crystal chandeliers heavy with light. a string quartet plays something romantic and forgettable in the background. waiters float by with champagne flutes, their hands practiced and empty-eyed. everything is too clean. too white. a blank canvas begging to be stained.

you stand near the edge of it all, watching. not hiding — just waiting.

then you see her.

hana.

she moves through the crowd with soft hands and a practiced smile, like she’s been trained her whole life to be looked at. beautiful, delicate, a doll dressed in ivory and pearls. but her eyes are kind. too kind. she spots you almost instantly and lights up.

“you came!” she says, breathless, rushing forward to embrace you like you’re old friends. you let her. her perfume is light and floral, almost childish. she pulls back to look at you, smiling. “he’s going to be so surprised. i didn’t tell him. i wanted to see his face.”

you nod once, lips curling upward. “i can’t wait.”

she doesn’t hear it — the venom under the silk. she sees only what he once saw: a calm surface. nothing underneath.

they call everyone to attention soon after. the ceremony is about to begin. you take your place among the crowd, quiet, unmoving. your hands rest in your lap, still, like in the operating room — composed. patient. ready to cut.

the music swells.

then he walks in.

beomgyu.

the groom.

your breath doesn’t catch — it sharpens. like a blade meeting stone. his suit is ivory, his tie pale gold. his hair is soft, curled just enough to look effortless. he smiles as he walks, bowing slightly to a few guests, charming and angelic, the boy wonder all grown up.

then his eyes find you.

he stops.

just one second. a stutter in time. a heartbeat dropped.

he blinks, once. then again.

the world keeps moving, but he doesn’t. his face doesn’t change, not fully, but you see the fracture — the faintest flicker behind his eyes. recognition. fear. memory clawing its way up his throat.

you tilt your head slightly. not a wave. not a nod. just enough.

he walks again, faster now, as if motion can erase you.

but you know better. you always did.

the ceremony proceeds like a play. vows exchanged, rings slipped onto fingers. hana glows beside him, her smile radiant and pure. and beomgyu… beomgyu plays his role with perfect grace. every look, every touch, every whispered promise is choreographed. from a distance, they’re flawless.

but you know the truth.

he doesn’t love her.

you learned that before the wedding, in whispers and reports, in quiet murmurs from mutual acquaintances. yoon hana, daughter of dr. yoon — the man who owns half the hospitals in seoul. a legacy family. power, influence, prestige. marrying her isn’t romance. it’s strategy.

he wants her name. her wealth. her father’s empire.

and once he has it, once he’s tied deep enough into that network of hospitals and private clinics, she won’t matter. she’ll become another discarded tool. maybe she already is.

you wonder if she knows. you wonder if she suspects. or if she’s just like you once were — enchanted by his gentle voice, his soft laughter, his hands that never shake until they do.

they walk back down the aisle, hand in hand, applause washing over them. but his eyes flick toward you again. not long. not obvious. just enough to remind you — he knows.

you slip away during the reception. not far. just to the back hallway where the staff come and go. it’s quiet there. cooler. your heels echo softly on tile.

you don’t wait long before you hear footsteps behind you.

“what are you doing here?”

his voice is low. careful. not angry. not yet.

you turn around slowly.

he’s already dropped the act.

the mask is still on, but you can see the cracks in the porcelain — the too-still eyes, the slight tension in his jaw, the twitch of a muscle near his brow. beomgyu stands in front of you like a man facing a ghost he thought he'd buried deep.

“your wife invited me,” you say simply. “she thought it would make you happy.”

he laughs. just once. bitter. sharp. “you shouldn’t be here.”

“why?” you ask, stepping closer. “because it ruins the fairytale?”

his silence is answer enough.

you study him — the expensive watch on his wrist, the perfect posture, the way his wedding band already looks foreign on his hand. he’s beautiful. always was. but it’s a cursed kind of beauty now, the kind that hides poison beneath petals.

“congratulations,” you say, letting your voice drip just enough to make him flinch. “must be nice, marrying into a dynasty. hospitals. connections. endless funding.”

“you don’t know anything,” he snaps, too fast.

you smile. “i know everything.”

he steps forward, suddenly closer than you expected. “what do you want?”

the question isn’t a plea. it’s a warning.

you reach up and adjust the lapel of his jacket, slow, intimate, mockingly gentle.

“i haven’t decided yet.”

his breath catches for just a second.

you both know what’s happening. it’s already begun. the dance. the descent. two people standing in the wreckage of a friendship, building something twisted from its remains.

because the truth is, you and beomgyu are not so different.

he ruined someone for power.

you came back to ruin him.

and hana? she’s not the love between you. she’s the blade you’re both gripping from opposite ends.

ACT THREE: THE BRIDE

you find her near the garden, tucked in the back where soft lights string between trees like artificial stars. hana is laughing with one of her bridesmaids, hands clasped around a champagne flute, veil tucked back behind her shoulders. she looks like a dream — fragile, glowing, floating in a bubble she believes is happiness. but dreams burst easily.

she sees you and waves. “there you are! i was wondering where you disappeared to.”

“just needed air,” you say smoothly, stepping beside her. “everything’s beautiful, hana.”

her smile grows. “thank you. i wanted it to feel… perfect.”

you both look around. and it is perfect. the venue is opulence carved into architecture — carved archways, marble fountains, flower arrangements taller than people. every inch glows with money. not taste. wealth.

“how did you two meet, anyway?” you ask, tone light, harmless. curious.

hana sips her drink, a soft blush blooming on her cheeks. “mutual friends. well, not really friends — one of my father’s doctors. he introduced us at a benefit.”

of course.

you nod, letting the silence stretch just enough before asking, “and… did you fall in love right away?”

she laughs. a real one. “oh no. he barely spoke at first. but once we started talking… it was easy. he listens. he’s kind.”

you hum softly. “he used to be quieter. i think the years made him louder.”

hana tilts her head. “you really knew him that well?”

“better than most,” you reply, a quiet truth soaked in something heavier.

her eyes glimmer with curiosity. “he never told me about you.”

you smile. “he wouldn’t.”

you don’t let the pause linger. you slip your arm through hers gently and steer her toward the inner hall — not the main ballroom, but a side corridor filled with portraits and silence. your voice lowers just a bit.

“this place is… extravagant,” you say, fingers brushing the polished wall. “how did you manage to book it? i heard it’s almost impossible.”

hana beams. “oh — it was a favor. one of my dad’s oldest friends owns the property. it’s usually reserved for very exclusive events — politicians, ceos, you know.”

you arch a brow, feigning awe. “must’ve taken strings to pull that off.”

“not really,” she says. “he offered it as a gift. it’s the kind of place where everyone already knows everyone. it feels safe, like… like no one’s watching. just happy people, no noise.”

you stop walking.

“no cameras?”

she shakes her head with a small smile. “none. my dad doesn’t like them. he says they ruin intimacy.”

you let the words settle. no cameras. no recordings. no proof. no eyes. just soft walls and trust.

hana sees none of the weight behind your silence. she keeps smiling, sipping from her glass.

“besides,” she adds, “what’s there to see? it’s a wedding. everyone’s happy.”

you look at her then, really look — at the soft curve of her cheek, the gentle eyes, the way she sees this world as clean, unshaken. she thinks love built this. but it was ambition. strategy. you know the taste of it because you once wanted the same things — and maybe, deep down, you still do.

“you must trust him a lot,” you say quietly.

“i do,” she replies without hesitation. “he’s everything i ever wanted. he saved me from this cold, business world. my father wanted me to marry a man with power — i found one with heart.”

you almost choke.

but instead, you laugh, soft and low. not mocking. almost affectionate.

“then i hope you’re right,” you whisper. “and i hope he never gives you a reason to doubt that.”

hana looks up at you, touched. “you’re so sweet. i’m glad you’re here.”

you lean in, kiss her cheek, and breathe her in — that perfume, light and harmless. the kind of scent you could forget.

but you won’t.

because now you know the hallways. the exits. the blind spots. and now, hana trusts you.

and beomgyu?

he knows you’re close.

you can already feel the tension pulling tighter — like piano wire strung between three necks. someone will bleed.

you’re just deciding who goes first.

ACT FOUR: THE SERPENT IN RED

you find him just past the marble corridor, outside, where the laughter and clinking glasses can’t follow.

he’s standing by the edge of the balcony, fists clenched, jaw tight, like he’s holding the world together by sheer force of will. the night air swirls around him, but he’s too tense to feel it. beomgyu looks like a man cornered by ghosts — one in particular.

his eyes snap to you the moment he senses your presence.

and you see it.

not just surprise. not just discomfort.

fear. hatred. panic. all bleeding together in those pretty eyes.

he looks like he might be sick.

you step into the moonlight, slow and deliberate, the crimson fabric of your dress catching the light like liquid sin. the color hugs you — dark, seductive, unapologetic. and he sees it. god, he sees it.

his expression twists instantly.

“what the fuck are you wearing?” he spits.

you tilt your head, smiling sweetly. “a dress.”

his gaze sharpens, voice lowered. “that’s not a dress for a wedding.”

you glance down at yourself, brushing invisible dust from your hip, tone soft and cruel. “why not? i think it suits the occasion.”

“it’s red,” he growls. “blood red.”

you hum. “hm. so it is.”

he takes a step forward. “take it off.”

you laugh. sharp. amused. “aw, gyu. if you wanted to see me out of it, all you had to do was ask.”

he flinches at the nickname. his hands curl at his sides.

“this isn’t a fucking game,” he hisses. “you shouldn’t be here.”

“oh, but i was invited,” you remind him, voice dipped in honey. “your lovely bride said she wanted to surprise you.”

his nostrils flare. “she doesn’t know what you are.”

you lean in, just enough for him to smell your perfume — dark florals, velvet musk, danger. “no,” you whisper. “but you do.”

he doesn’t answer right away. his eyes drag over you — slow, reluctant, like he hates what he sees but can’t stop seeing it. there's something sour behind his gaze, something like... regret? no. it's older than that. something between rage and fascination.

“i didn’t think you’d get out so soon,” he says eventually. “they said five years minimum. good behavior, huh?”

you tilt your head. “what can i say? prison taught me discipline.”

his jaw tightens. his fingers curl slightly around the glass.

beomgyu stiffens. his eyes dart toward the ballroom doors and back to you, like he’s counting the seconds before someone else joins, or worse, sees you both like this.

you take another step, your heels echoing softly against the marble. he doesn’t move.

“what’s the matter?” you ask, gaze locked on his. “nervous?”

his mouth twists, but his jaw— god, it clenches so hard you can almost hear it pop.

you glance down at his hands, tense and trembling slightly. “you always did get shaky when things got out of your control.”

“don’t push me,” he warns, low and shaking.

you ignore the threat. “it’s funny,” you murmur. “you wear the same expression you did in the O.R. that day. remember that? the moment everything went wrong and you had to choose— your future or mine.”

he breathes in sharply.

you smile wider. “you chose well. now you’re marrying a woman with power. hospitals. status. all the things you’ve always wanted but could never earn. and she’s just so sweet too. so trusting. so willing to give you everything.”

beomgyu doesn’t speak. his silence is louder than shouting.

“tell me, gyu…” you lean closer, lips almost brushing his ear. “do you plan to kill her like you did the patient? once you get your name on the deed?”

his breath catches, sharp and violent. and for a terrifying second, you think he might hit you.

he lunges forward — fast, teeth gritted, eyes wild with fury. his hand lifts slightly, but it stops halfway. frozen.

his face is inches from yours now.

his breath hot, furious, desperate.

your lips curve, soft and mocking. “god, i missed this,” you whisper, letting the tip of your finger trace the lapel of his suit. “your warmth. your anger. the way your body shakes when i get under your skin.”

he snarls quietly. “you’re insane.”

“maybe.” your eyes shine, unblinking. “but at least i’m not a coward.”

you let the silence stretch, the air between you charged like a live wire. you feel the storm in him, the battle behind his eyes. part of him wants to end this — grab you, break you, erase you. but another part… the part you remember… wants to taste this. wants to feel something. anything.

you lean in, your breath ghosting across his mouth, and say it, clear and cold:

“you don’t love her. you love what she has. and you want to take it all.”

his shoulders tighten. his lips part, but no sound comes out.

“that’s why you hate me,” you continue. “because i see you. the real you. and you know exactly what i came here to do.”

his hand jerks slightly — like he might finally snap — but just as fast, he freezes. a voice laughs nearby. footsteps. guests.

he blinks, breath shaky. control returns like a choke chain.

he steps back, eyes burning, chest heaving. “get out of my fucking wedding.”

you smile, slow and venomous. “make me.”

and then you turn your back to him, deliberately, daringly, walking back into the warmth of the celebration with his fury at your heels. the red of your dress flares like a warning — or a promise.

and beomgyu stays frozen behind you.

because he knows:

you’re not done.

and this game is just beginning.

the moment you turn your back to him, you know it’s not over. not by a long shot. the air between you both is thick, taut with something unsaid, something alive, crawling under your skin. you can feel his eyes on you, burning a hole in your back. his breath shallow, labored, like every inhale is a war he’s losing.

you hear his footsteps behind you — slower, cautious, but still there. he’s following you.

you smile to yourself, letting the sound of his pursuit draw you closer to the door. it’s all so predictable, all so easy. the rage, the fear, the denial — it’s exactly what you knew would happen. beomgyu doesn’t want to admit it. doesn’t want to admit how much he needs to be near you. not after everything. but his body betrays him.

just before you turned to walk away, something caught your eye — a flash of silver in beomgyu’s hand. you watched, silent, as he pulled a small key from his pocket and slipped it into the door of a room tucked away behind one of the elegant hallways. he glanced over his shoulder, cautious, before pushing it open and stepping inside. you didn’t follow immediately, but your mind registered it. a key. not just any room — a private one. the kind you’d return to later, when the world wasn’t watching.

you don’t look back. not yet.

inside, the room is empty except for the small details of a wedding — bouquets, mirrors, chairs — but it feels like the eye of the storm, calm before the inevitable. you step inside, your heel clicking against the cold floor, and you feel him follow.

his presence is heavy, but you make no move to acknowledge it. not yet.

you stand in the middle of the room, your back to him, and let the silence stretch for just long enough to make it unbearable.

and then, as if on cue, you hear the door close softly behind you.

his voice comes low and strained. “you’re pushing your luck.”

you don’t answer at first. instead, you let your hand graze over the table, the reflection of your own eyes in the mirror catching you off guard for a moment. his presence is so close now. you can feel the heat of his body like a shadow. you’ve always known how to make him lose control. and tonight, it's too easy.

finally, you turn to him, a slow, deliberate motion, your eyes catching his in the reflection. you don’t need to see his face to know what’s there. it’s all in the tension of his jaw, the way he stands — tense, but drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

“you know,” you say softly, your voice slipping into that dark, alluring tone, “there’s something about being close to you again.”

his fists clench. his voice trembles, barely contained. “shut up.”

you step closer, just enough to make him shift, but not enough to let him break that thin thread of restraint. “why? don’t you like it, gyu?” you whisper, barely audible. “don’t you miss the way we used to be?”

he takes a deep breath, his lips trembling with a fight he’s losing. “i told you… get the fuck out.”

but his body betrays him. you see it in the way his eyes flicker down to your lips. the way his breath hitches when you take that last step toward him, close enough for your chest to brush against his. his eyes lock with yours in a mix of fury and something darker.

you smile, sweet and dangerous. “you can’t walk away from me. not now. not after everything.”

he presses his lips together, his entire body tensing, as if he’s holding back something primal. then, his hand grabs your wrist — not rough, but tight, possessive. like a warning. and yet…

he doesn’t pull you away.

you let him hold you there, the tension so thick between you that it feels suffocating. and then, you tilt your head up slowly, just enough for your lips to brush his ear as you whisper:

“you hate me, don’t you?”

he doesn’t respond, but you can feel it. his pulse against your wrist, the rapid beating of his heart, the heat radiating off his skin.

“you hate that I’m still here, still alive,” you continue, your voice a soft, slow poison. “you hate that I’m in your fucking head.”

he squeezes your wrist harder, like he wants to crush the words, crush the thoughts swirling in his mind. “get away from me.”

you smirk, finally stepping away just enough to look at him directly. “but you still want me, don’t you? that’s why you’re standing here. still watching me. pretending you’re not imagining everything we could’ve done.”

his breath hitches.

you let the space between you grow — just enough for him to feel the distance. but you can see the truth in his eyes now. he’s unraveling. he’s trying to convince himself that he doesn’t want this, that he doesn’t need this, but his body gives him away.

he takes a step toward you, closing the space, and for a moment, you wonder if this is the moment he’ll finally break. but instead, he lowers his voice to a dangerous growl:

“you really think you can get away with this?”

you step forward, your body nearly touching his, and you whisper it low, with enough heat to make the words burn:

“i’m going to take everything from you. everything you care about. and you won’t stop me.”

and just as you say it, he crashes into you — not with force, but with a desperate, controlled need. his lips meet yours in a kiss that isn’t gentle. it’s angry. it’s hungry. it’s raw.

you kiss him back, letting him take the lead for a moment, tasting the rage, the longing, the betrayal. it’s not love. it’s not passion. it’s something else. something darker.

he pulls away just as quickly as he came, breath shallow. his pupils are blown, wild with something that might have been a confession.

but neither of you says a word.

you stand there, close enough to feel the heat of him, and you know this game is far from over.

he won’t walk away. not yet. not when the fire’s already lit.

his lips crush against yours again — this time harder, more brutal, like he’s trying to punish you with his mouth, trying to erase everything you’ve said, everything you’ve ever done. his hands dig into your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you feel the sharp line of his control snap between your teeth.

you moan into his mouth, a dark, breathy sound that makes his grip tighten.

he hates this. he hates that he’s kissing you. hates that he wants it so fucking bad. but his tongue parts your lips like a man starved, tasting every inch of what he’s craved in silence for years.

you drag your nails down his back, slow and deliberate, and feel him shudder.

“you’re disgusting,” he mutters against your lips, voice hoarse, trembling. “so are you,” you breathe back, licking into his mouth like sin itself. “but at least i admit it.”

his hands are on your thighs now, hiking up your dress — and you let him. you don’t stop him when he pushes you back against the vanity, knocking over flowers and makeup, wedding details crashing to the floor like a funeral bell.

his lips move down your jaw, your throat, biting a path like he’s branding you. “you shouldn’t be here,” he growls into your skin. “then stop me,” you whisper, breathless, eyes daring. “go on. push me away.”

he doesn’t.

he pushes your dress up further, bunching the fabric at your hips, exposing the soft skin of your thighs. his fingers tremble as they move to your panties, his breath hot against your neck.

“fuck,” he hisses when he finds you already wet. “you’re so—”

“say it,” you pant, threading your fingers into his hair and yanking. “say it.”

he bites your shoulder. hard. a bruise blooms there instantly.

“wet for me,” he spits. “still. after everything.”

you laugh, low and wicked. “maybe i never stopped.”

he yanks your panties aside and sinks two fingers inside you without warning, and you arch into him, crying out — not from pain, but from the sudden, obscene stretch of it. your body clenches around him like it remembers him, like it always belonged to him even when he didn’t deserve it.

his other hand grabs your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eye. “tell me you don’t want this.”

you smile with your lips parted, a mess of heat and venom. “i want everything you’ll regret.”

he curses, low and filthy, before replacing his fingers with his cock — thick, hot, angry — slamming into you in one brutal thrust that knocks the air from your lungs. your back hits the mirror, and it rattles with the force of him.

“fuck—” you gasp, holding onto the edge of the vanity for balance.

“so fucking tight,” he growls against your ear, thrusting hard, fast, punishing. “you came here for revenge, huh? to ruin me?”

“i am ruining you,” you moan, legs wrapping around his waist, digging your heels into his back. “you’re already fucking mine.”

he slams into you again, harder — like he wants to shut you up. but it only makes you scream louder.

each thrust is rougher than the last. your bodies slap together, heat and sweat and fury. this isn’t love. this isn’t tenderness. this is war. this is two people trying to burn the other alive and moaning into the fire.

he grips your hips and fucks into you with something close to desperation, as if he’s trying to forget, to rewrite history with every thrust. but you won’t let him. you claw at his skin, mark him, own him.

“gonna come,” he pants against your throat.

you squeeze around him, smile laced with malice and lust. “then do it. come inside me. like a good little liar.”

he bites your lip, snarling — and with one final thrust, he breaks, spilling into you with a guttural moan that echoes off the walls. you hold him there, feeling him twitch inside you, feeling him fall apart in your hands.

you come moments later, shaking around him, gasping his name like a curse and a prayer all at once.

he doesn’t move right away.

just stays there, inside you, breathing hard, forehead pressed against yours.

and for a second, the room is quiet again.

but then you speak, voice low, dangerous.

“you’ll regret this.”

he opens his eyes. they’re glassy. red-rimmed. terrified.

“i already do,” he whispers.

ACT FIVE: THE MURDER

you stumble out of the room, legs trembling, lips still tingling with the taste of him — hatred, lust, regret. all tangled in one bite. behind you, beomgyu breathes hard, still trying to compose himself, and you glance over your shoulder just in time to see him pull that same silver key from his pocket and quietly lock the door behind him. neat. clean. calculated. he doesn't want anyone discovering what just happened between you two.

perfect, you think. even better.

but this story isn’t done — not yet. you’ve got the tension. the sweat. the kiss of his guilt on your tongue.

now you need blood.

the reception is loud again. music swells, laughter floats, and the soft sound of champagne flutes clinking fills the air like wedding bells. but none of it touches you. not as you wander past the kitchen doorway, not as you see that towering wedding cake in the distance — pristine, elegant, the kind of perfection they probably spent hours agonizing over.

and there, beside it.

a knife. long. sharp. glinting with the reflection of white icing and overhead chandeliers. you stare at it. still. calculating. nobody notices you. not the chef, not the staff — you're just another woman in a blood-red dress at a wedding.

you smile sweetly, take the knife, and in a single smooth motion, slide it up under your gown and tuck it beneath the band of your garter.

your thighs press together. it holds.

you breathe.

and walk back into the storm.

hana spots you before you even reach her. she waves, face glowing with delight, but that joy falters when she sees your expression. a calculated melancholy lingers on your features — just enough to look real, just enough to pull at her concern.

“y/n?” she says, approaching quickly, her hands gentle as they cup your forearm. “what’s wrong? did something happen?”

you let your lips tremble. just slightly. “i don’t think… beomgyu was happy to see me.”

her eyes widen, immediately protective. “no! no, no, don’t say that. he’s just… surprised. you two were so close in uni, weren’t you? he’s probably overwhelmed. you know how emotional he gets.”

you almost laugh. emotional. sure.

“i don’t know,” you whisper, looking down, twisting the ring on your finger — a fake one you wore to sell the illusion. “maybe i shouldn’t have come. i feel like i’m intruding. like… like i brought something bad with me.”

hana squeezes your hand, eyes soft with worry. “don’t be silly. i’m so happy you came. really. and i know he is too — he just doesn't show it well.”

you sniff dramatically. “do you think we could talk somewhere more private?”

she hesitates, then nods with a smile. “of course. there’s a room upstairs — where beomgyu and i get ready. it’s just ours.” she reaches into her clutch, pulling out a familiar glint of silver. the same key. “we’re the only ones with access.”

your heart skips.

jackpot.

“come,” she says sweetly, linking arms with you. “you’ll feel better after some quiet.”

you let her lead.

the room is silent. untouched. dimly lit by golden sconces. a soft scent of rosewater lingers in the air. and once the door clicks shut behind you, hana turns to you again, ready to offer another excuse on beomgyu’s behalf.

“i’m really sorry if he came off cold,” she says. “he’s been so stressed with the planning, and—”

“or maybe,” you interrupt, stepping closer, letting your voice thicken with suggestion, “he’s upset about something from the past.”

she pauses, confused. “what do you mean?”

you sit on the armrest of the lounge chair, looking at her with mock softness. “we haven’t seen each other since university, hana. back then, i was quiet. focused on med school. no friends, no distractions. just books and labs.”

she nods, leaning in, intrigued.

“and then he found me,” you continue, voice dreamy now, almost nostalgic. “he was charming. open. wild. he showed me that life wasn’t just about excellence. that it could be messy… chaotic. thrilling. he wasn't the best student, but he had this… charisma. everyone loved him.”

hana smiles. “that sounds like him.”

“he’d invite me to join him on hospital rounds,” you add, “especially when staff was low. we’d cover shifts together. just the two of us. late nights. adrenaline. it was like a bond. a secret, you know?”

she nods slowly.

“did you two ever…?” she asks cautiously.

you shake your head. “not like that. but we were close. inseparable. until something happened. something he doesn’t want you to know.”

“what happened?” hana whispers, eyes wide with unease, hands clutching her dress like it could protect her from what’s coming.

you step closer.

not threateningly.

no — softly. gently. like a friend about to tell a secret.

“beomgyu and i,” you begin, voice low, “were more than just classmates. we were inseparable back then — best friends, maybe the only ones we had. we were in the same program, same surgical rotations. but he… he wasn’t always careful. not like me.”

hana blinks, nervous now. but listening.

“it was a simple procedure. nothing risky. barely a challenge,” you continue, your eyes flicking to the soft gleam of the knife beneath your gown, still hidden. “but he messed up. badly. i warned him to slow down, double-check the vitals. but he thought he could handle it.”

you pause. the room is dead silent except for your voice.

“he cut too deep. ruptured something. blood started pouring out, and he panicked. dropped his instruments. froze. he looked at me like a scared child — ‘help me,’ he begged. and i did. of course i did.”

you smile, bitterly. hana doesn't speak.

“i tried to stop the bleeding. i gave everything. my hands, my mind, my training. but it was too late. by the time the others came, the patient was gone. and i was drenched in red. completely soaked.”

you can still feel it — the warmth of it. the shock. the chaos.

“his mother came in. screaming. crying. she saw me first — covered in her son’s blood. beomgyu said nothing. then, like a coward, he pointed at me and said i made the mistake. that i’d panicked. that i killed him.”

hana steps back slightly, a hand over her mouth. “no…”

“the staff believed him. he had no blood on him, just a mask of grief. and i was… in shock. couldn’t even defend myself. they expelled me from the program, and then the charges came. criminal negligence. i spent years in prison, hana. years.”

you tilt your head, gaze sharpening.

“do you know what that does to someone? being caged for something you didn’t do? he ended my future. my life. all to protect his own reputation.”

hana opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

you smile.

“and today, he’ll pay for it.”

and that’s when you move.

one second you’re smiling — the next, the knife is in your hand, slicing the air.

a gasp.

a soft sound, wet and gurgling. blood blooms across her throat like a twisted rose. her hands fly up, but it’s useless. her body crumbles to the carpet, her eyes wide and unblinking.

you kneel beside her, breathing steady.

“it was never about love,” you whisper in her ear. “he only loved what you could give him. and now it’s mine.”

ACT SIX: THE EVIDENCE

the room still reeked of perfume, lilies, and now — blood. thick and metallic, it hung in the air like a cruel fog. her body lay awkwardly against the plush carpet, blood seeping in slow, lazy tendrils from the wound in her neck. hana’s expression was stuck somewhere between shock and confusion, as if her soul hadn’t quite caught up with her body in death. her hands were slightly raised, instinctively defensive, but there was no one left to plead with. not anymore. not after what had been set in motion years ago.

you stood over her in silence for a moment, letting the weight of it settle into your bones — not guilt, but satisfaction. cold and heavy and deliberate. this wasn’t chaos. it was choreography.

with clinical precision, you leaned down, your gloves still in place, your breathing steady. slipping your hand into the folds of her bridal gown, you found the small silver key she’d shown you earlier — the one she had said only she and beomgyu shared. perfect. you took it and tucked it away into your own bodice, but not before retrieving the knife, still warm, still wet, and carefully returning it to its hiding place beneath your garter. the steel met your skin briefly before disappearing back into the safety of lace and silk.

you weren’t finished.

you moved quickly now, not rushed, just efficient. hana’s lifeless form was heavier than you expected, but you managed to drag her toward the grand antique wardrobe tucked into the corner of the room. with effort, you arranged her inside, folding her gently as if she were porcelain. her arms fell to her sides like forgotten ribbon. from your bag, you pulled out a slim, black silk tie — beomgyu’s. you tied it around the wardrobe handles, tight and exact, the knot crisp. when someone found her, they’d see that tie and wonder. they’d question.

still wearing your gloves, you crouched again, inspecting the floor. blood had begun to dry at the edges, but it wasn’t too late. from your oversized purse, you pulled a small cloth and a diluted cleanser. you wiped every trace, every drop, every footprint. when the floor gleamed again — soulless and clean — you exhaled, but not in relief. this wasn’t over.

you walked to the mirror, peeled the gloves off with a slow, meticulous grace, and washed your hands in the basin nearby. the water ran pink, then clear. you changed next — stripping out of your blood-smeared gown and slipping into an identical one, pristine and untouched, as if nothing had happened at all. the contrast was jarring, beautiful even. you folded the ruined dress neatly and stuffed it back into the depths of your bag.

your escape wasn’t through the door. instead, you approached the tall window, unlatched it quietly, and climbed out with the elegance of someone rehearsed. the soft thud of your shoes on the grass below didn’t draw a single eye — the courtyard was mercifully empty.

and then, fate handed you one final gift: the dog.

a large, well-fed retriever — probably belonging to the venue’s owner — padded across the lawn near the back entrance. its tail wagged, oblivious. with a quick gesture, you undid its leash and nudged it gently in the direction of the banquet hall. you didn’t need to say anything. the second it caught scent of sugar and buttercream, it bolted.

from a distance, you watched the chaos unfold.

the animal barreled into the hall, diving toward the extravagant white wedding cake at the center. shrieks rang out from the staff, followed by gasps from the guests as the massive dog leapt, knocking plates and champagne flutes in every direction. the distraction was beautiful. orchestrated. all eyes turned, all bodies rushed forward.

you slipped back inside, unnoticed, and made your way to the small parlor by the fireplace. the chimenea crackled with welcoming heat. pulling the blood-soaked dress from your bag, you tossed it into the flames and watched as it curled and blackened, then disappeared. no ash, no trace. nothing left but a faint scent of smoke and finality.

when you stepped out again, you were just another guest, a woman in red, blending back into the celebration.

a ghost with blood on her hands and no soul left to haunt.

ACT SEVEN: THE ALIBI

you adjusted your dress — perfect, pristine, untouched — and found yourself drifting through the hum of music and small talk that buzzed under the glittering chandeliers. the ballroom seemed to pulse with distraction. no one had noticed the weight that had disappeared from the upstairs room. not yet.

your eyes landed on him — the father of the bride. chairman yoon. tall, composed, his tailored suit stretching across a chest built by pride and decades of success. the man was practically royalty in the medical world, owner of several hospitals across seoul. you approached him with the softness of silk and the poise of someone who belonged.

"mr. yoon," you began with a smile as polished as glass, "your daughter... she looked beautiful today. truly radiant."

his chest puffed with the pride of a man who had provided everything for his only child. he nodded solemnly, his glass of champagne catching the light as he raised it slightly in a silent toast to his own bloodline.

"and beomgyu," you continued, your voice low, reverent, like a hymn. "he's... incredible. passionate. dedicated. you know, not every man would love so deeply, so completely. he’d go to the ends of the earth for hana."

his eyes twitched with something unreadable, maybe curiosity, maybe relief. you pressed on.

"i think you'd be proud to know she chose a man who sees her as more than just a wife — he sees her as his purpose. his reason. i’ve known beomgyu for years, and... he’s always been like that. full of heart. always willing to sacrifice himself for someone he loves. it’s rare to find someone that good anymore. especially in our field."

you watched the old man’s face soften, a flicker of sentiment warming his otherwise calculating expression. you kept it going, slowly painting beomgyu as the martyr, the hopeless romantic, the picture of the devoted son-in-law. no one would ever suspect a thing if the story was sculpted just right — and your hands were already elbow-deep in the clay.

but then... your ears twitched.

a burst of laughter from across the room caught your attention — the kind of giggle that tried too hard to be subtle. you turned your head and caught sight of hana’s bridesmaids, huddled close together like schoolgirls sharing a forbidden secret. their eyes sparkled with the thrill of gossip. you drifted closer, steps measured, heartbeat steady. their voices dropped a little when they saw you, but it was too late — you had already heard the name.

"soobin."

one of them whispered it again, as if afraid the very word might catch fire. and then, another voice, hushed and breathless.

"they kissed. i swear to god, they kissed."

"at the bachelorette party?" a gasp.

"yes. she said it was just the heat of the moment — he was her crush back in college, remember? and after all these years… it just happened. god, she said she forgot what it felt like to be wanted like that."

your stomach didn’t turn. it twisted with dark joy.

this was it. this was gold. betrayal, lust, opportunity. everything you needed to sow the perfect storm.

you didn’t waste a second. turning smoothly, you made your way to a small group near the bar — men in sleek suits, clustered together like a pack of wolves dressed in cologne and wine. they must’ve been beomgyu’s university friends, the ones he met after he burned your life to ashes. they wouldn’t know you. they wouldn’t question your role.

you approached with the gentle confidence of someone who had every right to be there. "hi," you smiled, polite and slightly sad. "i’m... one of beomgyu’s closest friends. from before med school, actually."

they turned toward you, nodding with vague recognition. one of them offered you his hand. "nice to meet you. i’m hyun. beomgyu never really talked about his old friends. but i guess he’s pretty private about that stuff."

"yeah," you said, letting just the right note of sorrow seep into your voice. "he’s... been through a lot."

they leaned in instinctively.

"i just…" you hesitated, casting your eyes downward. "i needed to say something, and i don’t know who else would understand. he’s a good guy. a really good guy. he doesn’t deserve what hana did."

their brows furrowed instantly, curiosity piqued. "what do you mean?"

you glanced around the room before leaning closer, lowering your voice. "look... i shouldn’t be saying this. but during her bachelorette party... hana kissed someone. someone she used to have a crush on in university. i think it was... soobin? and, well... maybe it didn’t stop there. maybe it went further."

they exchanged glances, jaws tightening.

"you’re sure?"

you nodded, slowly. "i didn’t want to believe it either. but hana told one of the girls herself. she was drunk. said it just... happened. like the past came rushing back and she forgot about everything else."

they muttered under their breath, disbelief and disgust curling their lips. one of them scoffed. "i knew it. she always looked too perfect. like the kind of girl who smiles sweet but keeps knives in her purse."

another one chuckled bitterly. "and beomgyu? that poor bastard... he’s really into her. like, really. he doesn’t deserve that."

"no," you agreed. "he doesn’t."

they looked at you again, this time with a different kind of respect. not suspicion, not doubt. alignment.

"thanks for telling us," hyun said after a pause. "we won’t... say anything yet. but someone should. eventually."

you nodded once more, then turned away, letting the weight of your words hang in the air behind you like smoke.

the story was unfolding exactly as it needed to — not as it was, but as you designed it. slowly, subtly, beomgyu’s world would collapse in on itself. and when the flames reached his feet, the only thing left for him to do would be burn.

ACT EIGHT: THE CONFRONTATION

you feel his eyes on you long before he reaches you. they trail your every move across the ballroom—how you tilt your head as you speak to hana's father, how you laugh gently with his old classmates, how your hands rest politely against your wine glass, calm and clean and deceptively innocent. it must be driving him insane.

and it is. because when he finally storms across the golden-lit room and grabs you by the wrist, there's no hesitation, no softness, no mask left. the smile you wear is poison-laced sugar, the kind that rots the soul.

“come with me. now,” he says through clenched teeth.

you don’t resist. instead, you raise an eyebrow, deliberately taking your time to place your glass down on a table. “so demanding. is that how you treat your guests on your wedding day?”

he doesn’t answer. just pulls you along the corridor, back through the twisting hallways, until you reach that room again—the one where secrets are born and buried. he unlocks it with the silver key, the same one you saw earlier, the same one his fiancée had.

he slams the door behind you, breath ragged. “stop playing games.”

you lean against the edge of the makeup table, unbothered. “who says i’m playing?”

“cut the act.” his voice cracks, sharp and low. “what the hell do you want from me?”

you walk slowly toward him, arms draping lazily over his shoulders, fingers trailing up the back of his neck like a ghost he thought he buried. “you,” you whisper, eyes gleaming. “i want you.”

his jaw tightens, but his hands tremble. “don’t do this.”

“why not?” your breath brushes against his ear. “because you’re scared you’ll fall again? or because you already have?”

he grabs your wrists and pulls them down. “this isn’t real. it’s never been real with you. you twist everything—”

“and yet, here you are,” you cut him off, stepping even closer. “following me, dragging me into dark rooms, asking me what i want. what does that say about you, beomgyu?”

his silence is deafening.

you smile, slow and venomous. “you don’t love her,” you say, voice flat now, cutting. “you love what she gives you. her father’s empire. the title. the access. you’re marrying a name, not a person.”

his lips part to argue, but no words come out.

“you betrayed me to save your future,” you continue, no longer seducing—now dismantling him piece by piece. “and now that i’ve returned to claim what’s mine, you think you can just tell me to stop?”

“what did you do?” his voice is hoarse, shaken, almost afraid.

you tilt your head. “you’ll find out soon enough.”

he lunges forward then, fists clenching like he might strike, but stops inches from your face. you don’t flinch. you want him to hit you. you want the mask to fall completely. instead, he breathes harshly, veins pulsing in his neck.

“you ruined everything.”

“no,” you correct, brushing invisible lint off his suit jacket. “i balanced everything. this was never your story alone, beomgyu. i was just patient enough to wait for the climax.”

from outside, you hear laughter, music, the clink of glasses. a celebration built on lies, already cracking.

he looks at you like you're the devil, but deep down—he knows he invited you in the moment he sacrificed you for his own survival.

and now the devil wants her due.

beomgyu’s gaze pierces through you as he stands just a few steps away. his chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths, and his hands, clenched at his sides, tremble ever so slightly. it’s not fear—no, you recognize it now. it’s guilt, swirling just beneath the surface of his icy demeanor.

he knows you’re hiding something. his eyes narrow, his brow furrows in frustration as he takes a step closer to you, his voice low, barely above a whisper.

“i can see it,” he says, his voice laced with suspicion, “you’re hiding something. you always have been. i won’t let you get away with it.”

you don’t flinch. instead, you lower your head, letting your hair fall over your face as you allow yourself a small, bitter smile. “what more could you possibly do to me, beomgyu?” you ask, feigning a hurt tone that feels foreign on your tongue, but you know it works. “you already took everything from me. my career, my future. what’s left? what could you possibly take from me now?”

he takes a hesitant step back, his eyes flickering with something dangerous. “you still think i’m the villain, don’t you?”

your voice drops to a whisper, but it’s cutting, slicing through the silence with a sharp edge. “you were always the villain. from the moment you betrayed me, you sealed your fate. do you feel guilty now? do you finally understand what you did? how many lives you’ve ruined because of your mistakes?”

beomgyu’s face tightens, his jaw clenching as if to hold back a storm. “i’ve improved,” he snaps, the words spilling out quickly, defensively. “i’ve gotten better. i don’t make those mistakes anymore. i’ve worked harder than anyone to—”

“you’ve lied,” you interrupt, your tone icy. “how many patients have died because of your negligence? how many diagnoses have you gotten wrong? you can lie to yourself, beomgyu, but not to me. i remember. i remember everything.”

he freezes. the air between you thickens, heavy with the weight of your words. you can see the storm brewing behind his eyes—the frustration, the fear, the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. but there's something else, too. something far darker.

“i’ve changed,” he repeats, his voice low, as though he’s trying to convince himself. “i’m not that person anymore.”

“you’ll never change,” you whisper, your gaze hardening. “i’d never make the mistakes you did. i’d never let anyone die. but you? You don’t even care. you never did.”

the tension builds between you, thick as smoke. his hands are clenched into fists, and for a moment, you think he might lash out. but then, his voice cracks, desperation lining his words. “you need to leave. now. i never want to see you again.”

ACT NINE: THE REVEAL

you feel your lips curl into a smile. the air between you feels too tense to breathe in, yet you move closer, not backing down. you raise your dress slightly, just enough to reveal the glint of bloodied steel tucked into the garter on your thigh. the knife, still slick with the evidence of your actions.

beomgyu freezes, his eyes going wide, his face draining of color. He opens his mouth, but no words come out. his voice trembles when he finally whispers, barely audible, “tell me... you didn’t—”

“didn’t what?” you ask, leaning closer, almost savoring the fear in his eyes. “you think i’d let you get away with it all? after everything you put me through?”

his breath is shallow, chest rising and falling in rapid succession. “tell me it’s not true... p-please.”

you step closer, your fingers brushing over the hilt of the knife, feeling the cool metal under your fingertips. “it’s true, beomgyu. it’s all true. but don’t worry,” you continue, leaning in so close your lips almost touch his ear. “i won’t blame you for what happened. after all, you did it. you killed her. you killed hana. and i just helped you clean up your mess.”

he stumbles back, his face ashen, eyes wide, pupils dilated. his voice cracks as he whispers the words he’s most terrified to admit, “you... you really did it, didn’t you?”

you smile, slow and deliberate, feeling a twisted satisfaction at the horror in his eyes.

“you?” he whispers again, barely able to breathe. “you killed her?”

you laugh softly, your voice a low, dangerous hum. “me? oh, beomgyu, it wasn’t me who did all of this. it was you. you just never saw it coming.”

you take a step closer, until you’re so near that his breath mingles with yours, but this time, there’s no more mask. there’s no more façade. just the reality of what’s happened and what’s to come.

with a wicked smile, you press your lips against his ear and whisper, “i didn’t kill her, beomgyu. you did.”

his face goes pale as he finally realizes the magnitude of what you’ve done. the game is over. there’s no escaping it now.

beomgyu’s denial hangs heavy in the air. “no,” he mutters, almost like a prayer. “no, i don’t believe you.” his voice shakes, but there’s something desperate behind his words, like he’s begging the world to disprove you, to make this some elaborate lie.

without breaking eye contact, you reach for his hand. he resists at first, stiff with unease, but you’re insistent. delicate fingers wrap around his wrist, and you guide his palm down your thigh, brushing past the smooth fabric of your dress until it finds the cold steel nestled against your skin.

his breath hitches the moment his fingertips graze the knife.

you press his hand harder against it, watching his face contort. “there,” you whisper in a voice dripping with venomous sweetness. “do you feel it, beomgyu? that’s her blood. your bride’s blood. your future. your lie.”

his eyes widen in disbelief, but that disbelief quickly twists into something far darker. the veins in his neck bulge with tension, his jaw clenched so tightly you hear the grind of his teeth. he jerks his hand away as if the touch burned him, but it’s already too late.

something inside him snaps.

with a choked roar, beomgyu lunges at you, fingers reaching—not for your throat, but for the knife. his face is a mask of rage, the lines once softened by charm now carved into something feral and unrecognizable.

beomgyu rips his hand away like it’s been scorched. his eyes go wide—then dark. the denial in them crumbles into something monstrous. fury consumes his features like a wildfire, burning away any remnants of the composed, gentle man he pretended to be.

“you bitch—!” he snarls, eyes wild. “you fucking psycho! i'll fucking kill you!” he growls through clenched teeth, and in a blink he’s on you, grabbing your arm and yanking the knife free from your leg.

the cold kiss of steel flashes in the dim light as he raises it.

but you’ve anticipated this moment. always one step ahead.

before the blade can meet its mark, or can close around your throat, your arm lashes out. you grab the black tie wrapped around the closet’s ornate handle—the very one he wore earlier that day—and yank it with all your strength.

the closet door bursts open.

and with a sickening thud, hana’s lifeless body tumbles forward, crashing into beomgyu’s chest like a broken doll. her dress is still pristine white, but soaked crimson around the neck, where the fatal wound rests like a grotesque necklace. her head lolls unnaturally as she falls directly onto beomgyu, knocking him back several steps.

his arms instinctively catch her, and for a split second, the world stops.

the blood.

the weight.

the coldness of her skin.

he staggers, knees nearly buckling, and the knife—your knife—slips from your leg and clatters to the floor between them, the blade nearly piercing hana’s side as she collapses fully into his trembling arms.

beomgyu doesn't scream. he can't.

the silence in the room is louder than anything. his breathing turns erratic, like a trapped animal finally realizing it's been lured into the cage. his trembling fingers touch the blood on hana's chest. his own hands, now red.

the walls are closing in. fast.

and all you do… is smile.

a slow, merciless smile as you step back into the shadows of the room. because now the stage is perfectly set.

and he is holding the murder weapon.

ACT TEN: THE MAN THEY'LL BLAME

for a moment, beomgyu doesn’t move.

he just stares—stares at the body cradled in his arms like it might still blink, might still breathe, might still whisper his name and laugh at this cruel joke. but there’s no laughter now. only the warmth of her blood soaking into his sleeves, her dress, the scent of iron clinging to every inhale. his face collapses into a grotesque mask of shock and pain.

“no,” he breathes out. “no, no, no—”

then the scream rips out of him, raw and gut-wrenching, a sound that doesn’t even sound human. he screams until his throat burns, until his lungs rattle, until the air around him trembles from the sheer force of it. the knife—your knife—still rests in his hand, stained and gleaming. his knuckles are white from how tightly he grips it.

that’s when the footsteps thunder outside.

the door bursts open.

gasps. screams. chaos.

guests flood the entrance like a wave—confused, horrified, stunned. among them, mr. yoon, hana’s father, stares into the room, frozen at the threshold. his eyes fall on his daughter first. slumped overcovered in blood. then on beomgyu—drenched in it, knife in hand, eyes wild and red.

and then… you.

you’re on the floor, trembling, hair disheveled, dress rumpled as if you’d struggled. tears streak your cheeks—perfect, practiced tears. you crawl backward, as if trying to get away from the man who supposedly tried to hurt you.

“mr. yoon—!” you cry out, voice cracking beautifully. “h-he killed her! i—i saw him! he found out about the affair, and—and when i tried to stop him, h-he tried to force himself on me!”

gasps erupt behind you. someone cries. another person retches.

beomgyu looks up, eyes darting from face to face, from you to the crowd. “she’s lying!” he shouts, hoarse, frantic. “she did this! it wasn’t me—!”

but mr. yoon’s voice cuts through the noise, sharp and trembling with rage. “get away from my daughter!” he roars, his eyes blazing with grief. “you monster! YOU STAY AWAY FROM HER!”

“no—please—listen to me, she—!” beomgyu tries to speak, but no one hears him. no one wants to.

they only see blood.

they only see a man with a knife and a woman sobbing on the floor.

phones are already out. someone is screaming for the police. others are backing away in terror. and the walls begin to close in on beomgyu.

he staggers to his feet, unsteady and splattered in red. the knife falls from his hand, clattering to the floor in a sharp ring of metal. he looks down at himself, the blood dripping from his fingers, painting a path of guilt behind him. his breath shortens, panic setting in like a chokehold.

“no… no, this isn’t happening…” he whispers, stumbling backward.

then—he runs.

out of the room. down the corridor. leaving a long, damning trail of crimson footprints in his wake.

and as the screams echo behind him, you stay on the floor… weeping just enough to keep the attention. just enough to keep the lie alive.

because now the world believes the story you wrote.

and beomgyu?

he’s already halfway to becoming the villain in everyone’s eyes.

FINAL ACT: THE PRICE OF BLOOD AND SILENCE

outside, the air is heavy with the weight of disbelief. voices cut through the night like blades—frantic, confused, disoriented. the manic hum of whispers grows louder the further you descend the stairs, like insects crawling over a rotting truth. people are gathered in tight little knots, their faces pale, tear-streaked, their eyes darting toward the mansion windows where the blood still clings to the glass.

you pass them quietly.

you hear the words that float around you like ghosts, each syllable another stone sealing beomgyu’s fate.

“he always said he loved hana. i didn’t think he meant… like that.”

“he was obsessed. did you see his face?”

“i told you something was off about him.”

“they say he found out about her and soobin… that she cheated during the bachelorette trip. maybe it pushed him over the edge.”

“he was crazy in love.”

you don’t speak. you don’t need to. your eyes stay low, your expression soft—an echo of grief stitched delicately across your features. every gesture rehearsed. every breath measured. inside, your heart is still. not peaceful… just empty.

you cross the lawn, past the wilting flower arrangements, past the shattered champagne glasses and chairs left crooked in haste. the wedding arch stands crooked now, fabric swaying like it’s mourning. you follow the trail of red stains, droplets growing thicker the closer you get to the garden altar.

and there he is.

beomgyu.

collapsed on the grass like a marionette with its strings cut. his knees are drawn to his chest, one hand tangled in his hair, the other pressed to his temple as if trying to hold his skull together. his suit is drenched—shoulders, chest, cuffs—sticky with the blood of the woman he thought he’d marry. he’s murmuring to himself, over and over, lips trembling, voice cracking with disbelief and despair.

“i didn’t do it… i didn’t do it… i didn’t…”

he looks like a shell. like a man who’s forgotten how to exist.

you step closer, the heels of your shoes pressing into the wet earth, and he lifts his head. slowly. his eyes find yours and the second they do, you see the shift—the dilation of his pupils shrinking into pinpoints, his body freezing.

you smile.

just a faint little curve of your lips. delicate. deranged.

he knows now.

he knows.

and when you crouch in front of him, slowly, your eyes never leaving his, your voice slides out like a silk ribbon soaked in poison.

“now you feel guilt?” you whisper. soft. intimate. cruel.

he doesn’t answer.

he can’t.

his chest rises and falls like he’s drowning. and maybe he is. drowning in blood, in betrayal, in the realization that everything he thought he controlled has crumbled. that you were never the fragile shadow of the past. you were the storm waiting to devour him.

your head tilts.

he stares at you like you’re no longer human.

because you’re not. not anymore.

you’re wrath with a smile. vengeance wearing perfume. the end of his world in a velvet dress.

his mouth opens, but no sound comes out.

and then—

sirens.

flashing lights.

the wail of justice arriving too late.

officers push through the crowd, guns drawn, shouting orders. hands grab him, dragging him up, cuffing him. he doesn’t resist. there’s no fight left. just wide, ruined eyes and hands still stained in red. he looks back at you one last time as they pull him away.

you wave.

not mockingly. not sweetly.

just… goodbye.

and as they drive him off into the night, all you can feel is the stillness.

not peace. not victory.

just silence.

and in that silence, you smile.

because your story is over.

and it ends in red.

EPILOGUE: CONFESSION IN THE DARK

the cell is cold.

not just in temperature, but in the kind of silence that settles under your skin and eats at the edges of your thoughts. beomgyu sits on the narrow cot, elbows on his knees, hands hanging limp like they don’t belong to him anymore. they’ve scrubbed them—his hands—but the blood feels permanent. it’s in the creases of his palms, beneath his fingernails, deep in the lines of his fingerprints. nothing washes off guilt.

he hasn’t spoken in hours.

they asked him questions. detectives. officers. even a therapist. he answered in whispers at first. then stopped answering altogether. because what is there to say when the world you thought you built was nothing more than glass—and someone finally shattered it?

his mind replays the moment again. and again. and again.

the weight of hana’s body crashing against him. the scream caught in his throat. the slick handle of the knife in his hand. the look in your eyes.

that look.

not fury. not hatred. something worse.

triumph.

he knows now. all of it. every piece he missed. every warning he ignored. he knew you’d come back, but he thought you wanted closure. he thought you’d mourned the past like he had.

he didn’t know you’d return as ruin.

he remembers what you said. about the patients. about the mistakes.

and he remembers their faces, too. the ones he lost. the ones whose lives slipped through his hands when he was too arrogant, too inexperienced, too afraid to say “i don’t know.”

but he never thought you’d find a way to make the world see him the way you did. a killer. a fraud. a man too weak to carry the weight of a life, yet too proud to admit he dropped it.

his breathing is shallow now.

he leans back against the wall. lets his head rest there. concrete against bone. he thinks of hana. of her smile, her voice, her secrets. he doesn’t know if she really loved him. doesn’t know if she really cheated. he doesn’t even know if it matters anymore.

because all that’s left is silence.

you didn’t just take his future.

you took the last piece of himself he believed was good.

he’s not crying.

he hasn’t cried.

but something inside him is unraveling slowly, like a thread pulled loose in the dark.

the light above him flickers.

he closes his eyes.

and somewhere, buried deep in the quiet, he hears your voice again—soft, mocking, triumphant.

“now you feel guilt?”

and this time, he does.

with every heartbeat, he does.

and as the door to his cell clicked shut behind him, echoing like the toll of a final bell, the world outside kept turning—unaware that sometimes, the perfect crime wears a smile, walks in heels, and whispers love like poison.

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arroganceisherfavoritecolor · 6 months ago

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bello i have come with a quest shall you choose to accept it

i’m like super obsessed with the first part of girl next door i think you wrote it beautifully and i was wondering if we could get some like semi stalker donnie head cannons? like, reader knows donnie a little bit and he’s fucking INFATUATED with her? tysm!

also if i could be 🃏anon that would be nice:) love ya!

yes i accept papa and u can be whatever anon u want to be :333 request to ur heart's desires

warnings: nsfw obvi

-well first off, it all started during the middle of freshman year

-u had just moved to Middlesex from whatever state u were originally from

-ur family moved into the house next to Donnies

-he saw u moving all ur shit into your house and he was fucking hooked

-it had been raining all day, but the moment your car pulled into the driveway of the old house next to Donnies, the sun came out. It was almost as if god shined his light upon one of his beautiful angels just for Donnie LIKE UGHHH

-2 weeks later his mom invited ur family over for dinner

-you looked so gorgeous as you stood in his doorway next to your family, a nervous smile on your face as you held a tray of cookies

-his mom introduced him and his sisters and he just stood there staring at u like a total idiot (which u found endearing!)

-as your families ate dinner he finally got the balls to talk to you

-"So...uh...new here?"

-you guys made a bit of small talk but after that you didnt speak much

-it was only like 3 months before yall became real close but during these 3 months Donnie was infatuated.

-he saw u at school, looking down at your new schedule. he took it as the perfect time to talk to you and was like "need help looking for classes? i could show you around. Or your locker? You know where its at??" and u were like "oh no its ok!"

-although he felt discouraged a bit, he was adamant about somehow getting close to you

-he'd stare at u from across the schoolyard, watching u mingle with the other students

-u js looked so carefree and happy even tho u were new

-his friends automatically tease him about it ofc

-"Keep dreamin' Donnie, that piece of ass isn't into freaks."

-"Ay, ain't she your neighbor though? Get some!"

-Donnie didnt even gaf tbh he was too busy looking at u

-u just looked so perfect in the frumpy Middlesex High School uniform (that u pulled off amazingly)

-his obsession grew day by day

-he'd plan ways and scenarios to get u to talk to him or for him to go up to you

-like he really would maladaptive daydream about u guys

-he'd write your name and his name all over his notebook pages, even drew some little doodles of u too

-in english, he'd stare at your side profile illuminated by the sunlight of the window. his mind was too focused on your beauty rather than the lesson, just like his pencil. he sketched and scribbled a small drawing of you on the side of his paper, gorgeous as ever.

-"Y/n Darko, Donnie + Y/n." was all scribbled over the pages too

-he'd walk home and see u walking ahead of him, all alone

-he wanted to catch up to you and walk with you but he was just so nervous! what if he got a raging boner while he talked to you? or what if he just couldn't take it anymore and swept you off your feet and fucked you right there?

-As weeks passed, Donnies obsession only grew

-when he realized ur window was directly in his line of sight from his own window omg

-like i said in the girl next door blurb he js looks at u

-his favorite thing to do is watch you lay on your bed, reading a book or doing homework or whatever

-donnie really really tried not to be a pervert but u just made it so hard!!

-every time he'd see u at school his mind was filled with fantasy after fantasy

-the one he thought of most was the teacher randomly changing the seating chart and then placing u next to him. he'd caress and stroke your thighs til you were blushing and squirming. then, he'd slip his fingers up your skirt and into those stupid fucking panties you love flashing to him. he'd finger you right there in the middle of the lesson, not a care in the world for who sees

-donnie definitely knew he liekd u a lot but was in denial abt lowkey being a stalker

-cus why tf does he know ur favorite bands, favorite snacks, favorite pajamas to wear to bed??? coincidence i think NOT

-after about 3 months, the seating chart changes in English class and u guys get placed next to eachother as if the starts aligned OMGGG

-u guys end up talking and becoming great friends

-donnies even more obsessed with u now that hes ur friend yayaya

(sorry dis was kinda short and took long to finish im working on a fic rn 🤤 feel free to request anything tho guys)

#donnie darko #donnie darko x reader #jake gyllenhaal #so fucking hot

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dragoncxv360 · 1 year ago

Text

Drew Sun in this outfit from twitter yesterday

The outfit is drawn by @/Potari_vt on twitter, I would link it but they have minors dni in their bio so I assume there’s nsfw on their account and I’d rather not link it to be safe, just in case

Also got other people to draw it too XD (idk who all plans on sharing their version tho, they actually made theirs before I made mine tho, I just shared the outfit saying I was gonna draw Sun and Moon in it and people went ham XD)

I’ll prob draw Moon in it too at some point since it was really fun, I def wanna dress them both up more

Also I used oobbbear’s brushes for this and it was super super fun (not tagging them ‘cause I’m too nervous atm lol)

Small note under the readmore

Also a small request, while Sun is genderfluid in this au and goes by she/they/he, I would prefer people use she/they when making general comments about her since she rarely uses he/him. I understand that most suns go by he/him and that it’s not technically misgendering but it still makes me a bit uncomfy ‘cause she’s transfem and those aren’t her main pronouns, so I figure I should say something rather than continuing to be uncomfy. (Using he/him in like fic comments where she’s actually using he/him is totally fine, it’s just when it’s general convos about her that I would prefer she/they used rather than he/him).

It’s not anybody specific doing this, it’s just a general assumption that people make that Sun uses he/him so I’m gonna start clarifying when posting art that she goes by she/they mainly. If you have used he/him before, there’s no need to apologize, I don’t remember any specifics of who has and hasn’t used he/him. I just figure since it makes me a bit uncomfy, I should say something rather than letting it slide because on a technicality, it’s not misgendering.

Tbh it’s less so the pronouns themselves that bother me and more so that I know most people who see the art without knowing the au and her gender say he/him thinking that Sun is a guy. Which is an extremely understandable assumption, canonically Sun and Moon seem to go by he/it, and they/them as Eclipse. I 100% don’t blame anyone for assuming my Sun’s gender or pronouns. Which is why I wanted to clarify things, so people aren’t confused and unintentionally/accidentally making me a bit uncomfortable.

#ellery's art #my art #digital art #digital drawing #security sun au #twitter drawing challange #sun fnaf #fanart #fnaf sb sun

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hyuneskkami · 9 months ago

Text

✮⋆˙ 𝐏𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

⤷ leo valdez x daughter of poseidon!reader

masterlist | event m.list

♡ fandom | the heroes of olympus

♡ includes | songfic (sort of), daughter of poseidon!reader, leo and reader both have glasses in this fic (YES i’m fulfilling my own delusions, leave me alone), ALL CHARACTERS INCLUDING READER ARE 17-18 pls don’t come at me for getting them married 🙏, leo x reader wedding, pre-established relationship, fluff, comfort, beautiful no nonsense kissing and happiness, tbh this is retribution for my previous emercy angst, HAPPINESS, third person pov for like five seconds, not proofread

♡ in which | leo and reader get married <3

♡ a/n | ok shiit. this was supposed to be a newlyweds prompt, but I wanted to write a wedding scene before that, so I completely missed the prompt that was requested ☹️ I still hope this fluff makes up for it a bit, and i'll try to work on a part 2 for a newlyweds drabble (tho I can't promise i'll actually end up writing it, sorry 💀)

♡ wc | 1.3k

✮⋆˙ y/n’s pov

“i’m way too nervous, my hands are shaking and what if I drop the ring? he’ll think i’m stupid! and he’ll leave me right there!”

“n/n? respectfully? shut up,” annabeth sighed.

“this is leo we’re talking about, man, and if there’s one thing I know for sure about him, other than the fact that he loves marshmallows, it’s that he’s whipped as fuck for you,” will’s voice rang out, walking into my cabin.

“trust!” piper’s voice came out of my closet, where she was looking for something decent for me to wear.

“okay… but, now I don’t have anything to wear. that’s another problem,” I whined.

“you could walk out there, and get married in your camp clothes, and it’d have the same effect on him either way,” piper rolled her eyes. “his mouth would like, hang open, and he’d make heart eyes at you—”

“shut up,” I grumbled. “what am I going to wear, pipes?”

“don’t you worry, darling, I got you,” she said, and winked at me, and handed me a denim-leather jacket.

✮⋆˙ leo’s pov

“what if I trip and fall in front of her? will she leave me—who am I kidding, of course she’ll leave me!—”

“she loves you, stop crying about it,” jason said, rolling his eyes.

nico walked in with a red tie and black leather jacket in tow, and told me it was one of the other kids who lent it to him (clearly not).

“oh. thanks,” I smiled.

“yeah, sure. uh, listen, valdez,” nico started. I narrowed my eyes at him. “if you ever hurt her, or make her cry, or anything, I will know. and I will come for your blood. and your organs, because the market is amazing for livers these days—”

“same here,” percy said. “if I see my little sister sad because of you? you’re done for, fire boy.”

they walked over to me, throwing their arms around my shoulder. “got it?”

“obviously,” I rolled my eyes. “and if she’s ever sad because of me, I think i’d kill myself.”

✮⋆˙ 3rd person pov

percy walked with his hand in y/n’s. she walked down the aisle in a black crop top below her unbuttoned white shirt, and a denim-leather jacket strung on top. in that moment, leo could only comprehend how much she looked like herself.

she was fidgeting nervously with her belt while walking towards him.

she looked up, shocked, to see him almost matching with her: white shirt, red tie, black leather jacket, and even the playboy grin.

I like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings…

uh huh, that’s right…

watching him smile at her melted away her anxiety.

he wouldn’t leave her, of course not. they were in this together, forever.

a lopsided grin creeped up her face, setting his heart on fire.

she would always love him, he realised. never would she even think of leaving him.

darling, you’re the one I want, and…

✮⋆˙ y/n’s pov

percy let go of my hand so I could walk further towards leo, leaving me a thumbs-up.

“hey handsome,” I whispered, stopping in front of leo.

“hey beautiful,” he whispered back, still smiling at me.

“even after so many years, you know how to get my brain to stop functioning, it’s unfair,” I groaned, as he chuckled. his hand slipped into mine, lacing our fingers together. his thumb stroked the back of my hand as we turned to chiron, who was officiating our wedding.

he asks all our friends—dressed in shades of either blue or orange—to take their seats. we watched the youngest demigods, who were less than ten years old, walk around the chairs, giving out flowers to everyone.

“dearly beloved,” chiron reads out of his pocket notebook. “we are gathered here today to witness my two little kids join together in holy matrimony.”

everyone laughed and then quieted down.

“you can do your speeches or vows,” he prompted.

I exhaled and started first. “mia cara, thank you. I can’t believe today’s, well, finally here. I remember the, um, first day we met. we were both caught planting something for a prank in coach hedge’s bag, and spent a day in detention together,” I laughed and went on. “well, that was pretty much the day I fell in love with you. i’m so happy I have a boyfriend—well, almost-husband—and a best friend, both in the same person. so, I guess what I want to say is… I love you, leo.”

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this…

uh huh, that’s right…

his eyes were glossing over, and a tear escaped down his cheek. I wiped it away, and smiled at him.

“oh my god, that was so sappy,” he rolled his eyes at me.

I hit him in his shoulder, and he laughed. “anyway, I think I never told you this, but I knew you before that day.”

I gasped a little bit and my eyes widened.

“it was the day you transferred to that wilderness school, probably around a month before we met. you were wearing the same jacket you’re wearing today, and your hair was in tiny braids, and oh my god, I remember thinking, ‘if I don’t talk to that girl soon, i’ll never forgive myself’ but I waited a whole month because I was too nervous.”

I laughed, “you were nervous for a month?”

“shut up bro,” he groaned. “you were just so beautiful and I thought you looked smart, which, I mean, you are. but then, I found out you were planning some prank for a bet, and I figured that was my chance.”

darling, you're the one I want…

“who knew that the first pranks we pulled would bring us to get married, huh?” I chuckled.

“I knew,” he said, “that was obviously why I did it. anyway, I wanna end this speech or whatever by saying what I thought of you the first day we met: I love you, y/n, and you’re stuck with me for life!”

“I better hope so, you’re not allowed to leave me ever, anyway,” I rolled my eyes.

chiron laughed at us, and called the ringbearers. “it’s time for you to exchange your rings.”

an eight-year old apollo camper and his twin brother walked up to us with matching boxes. each one gave a box to one of us.

we opened the boxes, got the rings out and held them.

leo pulled our interlocked hands up and let go, to slip his ring on my finger. I grinned at him, and placed mine on his finger as well. he smiled when he realised they were the first rings we had bought together after we snuck out of camp for the first time.

“with the power vested in me,” chiron started. “I now pronounce you man and wife. you may kiss the bri—”

before chiron could even finish, leo’s hands were on my waist, bringing me closer, our mouths colliding.

in paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams…

oh, you’re the one I want…

our glasses hit each others’ twice, but neither of us cared. his hands were squeezing my waist, as if it were the end of the world if he let go. my hands wrapped around his neck, and I pulled him in closer than humanly possible.

his kisses were rarely soft and sweet, so today wasn’t a surprise.

tongues colliding, my hands in his hair, and grinning against each others’ lips.

“till death do them part!” a voice rang out from the crowd, everyone else laughing.

“even death won’t do us part, mi vida,” he pulled back, smiling and whispered.

kozumesphone © 2024 | don’t repost my works onto other platforms, or edit and post them even on tumblr, without asking me first • don’t steal my works, steal my heart instead • reblogs and comments are more than appreciated !

#skye's cafe ~ ⋆.˚#⭑𓂃 skye’s riordanverse !#my man x me #riordanverse #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x fem!reader #leo x reader #leo valdez pjo #wedding fluff #leo valdez fic #leo fluff #fluff #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus

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withlove-xixi · 5 months ago

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yippeeee request opens!! is it okay to ask for a nsfw alphabet for kabru pls><(gn reader if possible)

— KABRU NSFW ALPHABET: kabru x reader

ᥫ cw: nsfw, general nsfw alphabet stuff idk ★ hello scaramoche ... the number one kabru fan ever 。ヾ(｡>ｖ<｡)ﾉﾞ。i have never done an nsfw alphabet before tbh .. this was .. really fun hehe ! but it ... its going to be obvious im a virgin and have no idea what im talking about ... — MINORS DNI! —

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

— kabru is very prepared. he makes sure that before you even take your clothes off, he has water on the bedside table ready for you when you finish, he’s got soft towels prepared to he can wipe off your sweat and cum and stuff so you're comfortable. it’s in his blood to be a worrywart, so while he wouldnt carry you to the shower or wtv, he’s definitely pampering you someway, somehow.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

— kabru's favorite body part of yours in your hips or your waist. he loves holding onto it when he thrusts in you, when you’re sitting on his face, or even if you were walking by his side. his hands slot perfectly against its curves like you were destined to be together

— his favorite part about himself is his face, because people have told him he’s got a handsome face, and you’ve said he’s got a handsome face, and anything you like, he likes.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) — wanna say he likes cumming outside of you as opposed to cumming inside. he likes seeing your stomach or legs or face just painted with white streaks. often he’d be so entranced by the sight of you covered in his cum, he’d absentmindedly draw patterns on your skin with it

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

— kabru likes smelling your underwear, it’s some freaky, pervy thing he’s so terribly ashamed of. he cant even tell you what about it he likes, just something about your scent that’s so raw it drives him insane

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

— kabru is experienced enough to know what he’s doing, but not enough to be at such a high level of expertise.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

— he’s a simple man, missionary. he likes watching your face when he fucks you, he think it’s so tantalizing when your face is all coated in sweat and your lips are trembling with want.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

— serious really, at most he’d be a bit nervous and get flustered. when he’s flustered, he’d stutter a bit, say a bunch of things to try and lighten the mood, which is the goofiest he gets

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

— trimmed just to keep it neat i’d say ! he doesnt really shave, he doesnt seem like the type to, but letting it grow out making it itchy

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

— in bed, everything is about you because once his dick sinks inside you the rest of the world melts away; blue eyes tunnel-vision into you and you alone. which is all to say he is very intimate. he likes holding you when you fuck, he likes being close and whispering in your ear, he likes telling you sweet things like “i love you” when you finish. he likes kissing you too, all over your body from your lips to your shoulder to your neck and just any inch of bare skin his lips find

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

— kabru isnt the type to masturbate, there’s some prideful sense in him that sees it as some foolish, immature act. though some nights when he’s too busy with work or he’s simply too pent up and you’re unfortunately not around, he’d probably jerk off. but really, if he could, he’d prefer to wait until he was with you before he do anything with his dick

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

— he’s pretty vanilla tbh, tho i think the kinkiest thing he’d do is leave your underwear/lingerie or otherwise sexy outfit half on because he seems like the type to find it hot (see motivation). like kabru would slide down your underwear and leave it dangling off your ankle because that’s hot and sexy for him or like he’d keep your lace stockings or high heels on, etc

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

— almost strictly the bedroom because he values privacy and he wants you to be comfortable, but on the very rare occasion, if you plead enough, he’ll be down to do it in his study, over the desk and things like that

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

— kabru likes seeing you in lingerie… or just any sexy outfit in general… sends the blood rushing straight into his dick tbh. he’d make you keep most of it on too…

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

— bondage tbh he doesnt seem like the type to enjoy being tied up. he… doesnt like the restraint because it feels a bit claustrophobic for him if that makes sense. (tho i think he’d be fine w handcuffs, just .. not tying his whole body up)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

— personally, kabru likes giving than receiving, though that’s not to say he doesnt like it when you suck him off (he loves it really, but he likes putting you above himself). though, kabru eats like he’s starved, all sloppy and loud. you can hear exactly what he’s doing and it’s exhilarating honestly

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

— he’s slow but rhythmic, deliberate and steady, it’s like there’s a metronome in his head counting his rhythm and pace (really, in the back of his head he’s subconsciously counting to keep time)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

— not the biggest fan of it because he likes taking things slow and being romantic and everything, but if you begged, he’d be down. it doesnt take much to convince him really, not when he’s so weak for you

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

— kabru is a man of schedules and routine, so risk isnt really something he’d be so willing to take. you’d have to really, really push him on the edge for him to do something risky, but even then the most he’d probably give into is public sex, never any experimental kink

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

— kabru can last pretty decently, his time in the dungeon and training growing up means he’s got quite the stamina. he can go a few rounds but he’s usually satisfied after one, maybe two

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

— he wouldnt own any, but if you had them, he’d use them on you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

— he doesnt tease often, but when he does, its never anything too extreme. he’d kiss at your inner thighs, trace patterns on your chest, whisper dirty things into your ear, just enough to have you squirming and whining for him to do something, then he’d chuckle softly and finally touch you where you want him. kabru isnt really the type to make you beg, but he’ll make sure you say “please” every once in a while

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

— kabru whimperssss <3 even if he tops, he’s whimpering. his voice sounds so heavy and breathy, and he’s frequently whisper by your ear or against your skin when he kisses you

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

— he bottoms (the crowd cheers!) i wanna say that if kabru were to top, he’s a service top, doing whatever you ask him to and all that. and if he bottoms, he’s so very submissive. which one he'd be for the night depends on you

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

— he’s lean, not exactly defined and muscular but you can tell he’s toned. his dick is just right, not too thick and not too long either. (i… i have never seen a real penis…. idk what else to say…. im sorry)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

— he doesnt have a high sex drive i think, he only ever goes if you’re in the mood and he’s in the mood, but typically you’d have to initiate things. well not unless he’s had a stressful week, then he’s gone quiet and he’s grabbing at you hips

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

— kabru, ever the gentleman, would wait for you to fall asleep before he went to sleep tbh! he’d rub your side soothingly and whisper praise in your ear and kiss your temple and just watch you fall asleep by his side, it's reassuring to him in a way. it’s sweet.

#ꔛ xixi writes #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #kabru x reader #kabru dunmeshi #kabru of utaya #kabru dungeon meshi #kabru

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wonuwrites · 1 year ago

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Seventeen Most To Least Likely To:

protect you from yourself

2.0 from this ask xo from @sharonxdevi

warnings: fluffy, angsty, some cursing, some food talk in Wonwoo's, stressed out Cheol + Jeonghan + kwannie :( , slight suggestive maybe if you squint, also I wrote basically a novel for Minghao's part. If you hate that, then go away bc we love Minghao here.

p.s I wrote most of this at 2 am after chugging 2 redbulls. It's gonna be chaotic as fuck and i'm not sorry whatsoever

listening to this banger of an album

M O S T

-> Minghao

Out of all of the members in Seventeen, I feel like Minghao always has an eye out for you and is always conscious of you.

I mean, if you need an example on how he'd be: look at how he babies friggin Vernon lmao.

He would do a lot of little things, like when you were being a passenger princess, because you would be. He would do this if there were bumps in road or whatever.

He also would always be holding your hand when walking and would walk by the road.

He'd peel your orange just so you wouldn't hurt yourself with a knife by accident.

Potentially might blow on food so you wouldn't burn your mouth lmaooo.

I don't think he would nag you like others would because he knew you were your own person and could do whatever they pleased.

However, he would always show how much he wanted to protect you.

You were his special person after all.

If you fell in front of him, he'd run to you and help you up. If you were laughing he might giggle as well and remind you to be more careful.

If you managed to get hurt and he was not around he would first make sure you weren't dying. Then he would just try to calm you down if you were anxious and just be there.

honestly, 100/10 type a guy. He's a walking green flag.

-> Dino

Honestly, maknae means nothing. Lee Chan is one of the more responsible members of Seventeen.

I mean in Nana Tour he was manager of money.

Just like being the manager, he would be the manager of your life?

He would constantly make sure you were okay and that any "obstacles" would not be in your way AT ALL.

He would be by your side constantly when you were out just to make sure you were safe and comfortable.

He'd be a bit more naggy than Minghao but that was just because he was nervous and was trying to convey that he was worried about you.

If you ever fell or ran into anything in front of him, I could see him either shocked if you were seriously hurt or laugh hysterically if you were fine and laughing as well.

However, if you got hurt when he was not near by, he would get so sad he wasn't able to be your prince in shining armor and protect you.

-> S. Coups

tbh you would stress him the fuck out lmfaoo.

He would try to hide it in front of you because he didn't want you to feel guilty for it. You couldn't help you were prone to accidents!

With being a leader of 12 other people, having you to watch after to was pretty much a given.

However, because of being leader he wouldn't be able to watch you as often as Minghao or Chan could which is why he is a bit lower.

Believe me, he would 100000% be number one if he didn't already have the other 12 to worry about.

When he realized you were more of a clutz then Mingyu he'd want to wrap you in bubble wrap and keep an eye on you 25/8.

Unfortunately, (or fortunately) you were a brat and would tease him often with "nOt NeEdInG hIs HeLp" it and that might trigger his brat taming kink lmfao.

If you were to fall or run into idk a wall he would just sigh and rub his temples LMFAO. I can see him being like "are you sure about that, sweetheart? Boom. a bruise. Let me just take care of you."

tbh he'd probably also sulk if he found out you got hurt and he wasn't there to prevent it. It would not be his fault but expect flowers, your favorite take out, one of his jackets, and him to be at your door asap.

-> Seungkwan

You also would stress him the fuck out.

Unlike Cheol tho, he would show you and admit he was stressed out.

Not to make you feel guilty but that was the way he was communicating why we would nag/being over protective.

End of the day, he wanted you to be safe and not hurt at all.

If he ever made you feel bad by his nagging, he would apologize and try to calm it down but he couldn't help it. He was worried as hell about you.

If you ever tripped or got hurt in front of him, he would just sigh and rub his temple LOL.

ngl he might even side eye you because he warned you.

You might apologize for it even though it was an accident which would make him apologize and then make sure you were okay.

If you were hurt when he was not around, he would feel sick. He wouldn't show you this side but he might get teary eyed until he knew if you were okay.

bc like I said... end of the day he wants you to be safe.

-> Woozi

Look bestie's been lifting weights for a few different reasons

one being, to be able to help you with things so you wouldn't strain yourself.

Like do you need to lift a box or something? He's got you babe

Need a door opened? Jihoon's got you pookie.

He wouldn't vocalize that he was doing anything to protect you, he just would.. do it

anyway where was I? Oh yeah

so Jihoon would always try to be there for you and would try to do things for you so you could be safe.

However, if you tripped or hurt yourself infront of him, he would be flabbergasted and by your side within seconds to make sure you are okay.

If you got injured when he was not with you, I can see him being a bit more logical then other members and would make sure you were okay and try his best to not make you feel foolish. it might be hard tho.

-> Jeonghan

Sooo, basically similarly to Seungcheol and Seungkwan you would stress him the fuck out.

However, he would try to play it off and act like he wasn't that bothered.

Believe me tho, he was.

He'd show his stress not in front of you tho.

He would sigh if he heard something crash in the other room with you shouting "I'm okay Hannie, I swear."

Ngl he might ask if you were dumb as a joke to try to tease you.

He'd tease you a lot actually.

He'd say shit like "Gotta do this because SOMEBODY will prob break an ankle or something and we can't have that."

If you got hurt in front of him, I can see him either laugh or go "Aigoooo~ my baby."

If you ever got hurt when he was not around, expect clingy domestic Jeonghan to nurse you back to health and nag you to be more careful.

He'd feel sick if you were ever hurt to an extreme and he wasn't there to protect you.

-> Joshua

first things first, he would like to say he was a gentleman to you.

yet if you were to fall he would laugh LMAO

not to be malicious but more like "what the fuck?"

You were so interesting to him and your coordination or er lack of coordination skills was so fascinating to him.

Like how could you be standing next to him then on the floor within 5 seconds?! there was no obstacles. wtf Y/N?!

If you were to get injured in front of him, like I said he'd laugh but if it was serious. He would quickly be godsent gentleman mode and would take care of you to best of his abilities.

If you got hurt when he was not nearby, he would make sure you were okay mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually, etc. Once he knew you were okay he'd prob make a cheeky comment just to make you laugh.

"Sometimes I feel like the floor gets more action than me? Fall on me next time baby?"

-> Wonwoo

No I didn't forget about Wonu I swear, I think he's toward the bottom and let me explain LOL

So, he would act like he was the best at protecting and would kinda act like Minghao, Seungcheol and/or Jeonghan.

He'd be a bit of a nagger kinda like Seunkwan ngl.

"Y/N, you need to be more careful. Kneecaps are important." "You need to take care of yourself." "Energy drinks aren't the only type of food you need to be healthy." etc.

However, if y'all were around Mingyu he was donezo and exposed.

Gyu would just be like "Hyung, you're one to talk."

Gyu would expose this poor man and would honestly protect you from his naggings.

However, if you fell in front of them after, Mingyu would realize Wonu was right in his nagging and you were a lost cause /lh LOL

If you ever were hurt in front of him, expect princess treatment. He would make sure you were okay.

If you were hurt when he was away, he would be one of the members that would drop everything and go straight to you. He would def be one of the more emotional members if you were hurt.

-> Vernon

tbh Joshua 2.0 LMAO

he'd laugh his ass off if you managed to trip over air in front of him.

Only time he wouldn't laugh on spot is if you accidentally banged your hip into a corner of the counter or something.

If anything, Hansol would just Hansol ya know?

Just a little "oh shit, you good?"

He'd do his best to help you not be so accident prone but after awhile, he just kinda realized it was bound to happen.

He still would try to help.

If you got hurt when he was not there, he would send you memes or something to lift up your spirits.

-> DK

Joshua 3.0.

He would fall to the ground laughing with you if you had tripped over air or whatever.

He would do his best to protect you from yourself but he also would try not to focus on your accident prone ways because he wouldn't want you to be embarrassed or feel bad about yourself.

Everyone has talents and yours is tripping over nothing or running into a corner every once in awhile.

Honestly, I could see him rate your accidents if he knew you were fine and just embarrassed LOL.

Like you would trip over your new puppy or something and he would be like "oooo i give that a 8 out of 10 LOL.

If you were ever hurt in front of him like actually, he would be soft and just make sure you were okay.

He might kiss it better? :')

If you were hurt when he was not near you, I could see him being similar to Wonwoo where he'd get emotional and just want to make sure you were okay.

He would call you as soon as possible and if he heard you rate your injury, he might scoff a bit but still laugh at your humor.

-> Hoshi

look, it's not that he doesn't want to protect you. he does.

A Tiger always needs to protect his Tigress ya know? I'm not sorry but pls still read my content LOLOLOL

Anyway, he would be similar to Joshua, DK, and Hansol where he'd laugh if you fell.

Most of the time, he knew you were not hurt.

Sometimes, he might compliment your spills and it might give him inspiration for a dance move.

Honestly tho, he is one of the more accident prone members too. Here's a comp I found if you don't believe me.

He'd joke, "we could be roomies if we both get hurt so it wouldn't be too bad." LOL

Jokes aside, if you ever did actually get hurt around Soonyoung he would baby you like no tomorrow. He might get a little emotional but that was because he didn't like to see his partner in pain whatsoever.

If you ever got hurt and he was away on schedules, he would be even more emotional. He'd blame himself. Even if logically it was not his fault, he would still feel awful he wasn't there to protect you.

-> Jun

He's a bit in his own world most of the time from what I've seen.

He still would try his best to protect you and make sure you were okay though.

I feel like maybe you would have to protect him more??

Or at least attempt too?

idk I feel like you both are so soft for each other that if one of you fell, the other would join the other person on the floor so you didn't feel alone.

If you were to fall or get hurt in front of him I can see him buffer a bit and then ask you what he should do.

He just didn't want to make situation worse.

If you were hurt and he was not there, he would be there as soon as he could just to make sure you were okay.

He'd NEVER nag you to be more careful. He just would want you to be okay.

L E A S T

-> Mingyu

Look he's too tall for his own good and sometimes his own limbs make him accident prone as well.

He really would try the best he could to protect you because well let's be real, out of all of Seventeen he would be the biggest simp.

However I can see him trying to help you up and falling in the process :(

There would be a lot of laughs though.

So much laughter.

Even if both of yall were a mess and occasionally accident prone, at least y'all could be that way together.

You both don't take that much serious and there would be other areas where Mingyu could show his "protective" and "dominant" side.

trust me he would too LOL.

If you ever got hurt in front of him, he would automatically go house husband and would wipe your wounds and carry you around like a princess.

shirt optional tbh

If you ever were hurt when he was away on schedules, he would be worried thoughout the duration of the schedule. If Seungcheol was there, he would tell him just to go check on you because he knew he was not fully there unless he knew his baby was okay :((((

ahhh hope this was okay <33

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colliope · 1 year ago

Text

How date-able are twst boys? ♡

inspired by @sunsguilt

Features all chars, and gets pretty suggestive btw. Otherwise mostly crack +fluff

a/n: my first writing! I hope u enjoy :) if not then go die i guess

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋ ♡Heartslabyul ♡

Riddle Rosehearts - I don't ljke him. If we're talking pre-overblot he'd banish you to that headlock thing with his unique magic if you ever tried to ask him out or flirt with him. Post-overblot hed be really shy in getting into a relationship but wants to be cared for and protected. But he's not standing up for u in front of his mom tho you'll have to deal with her urself

6/10 he’s a sweet boy, just too bossy and not assertive enough to his mom. Divorceablity is quite high with this one.

Cater Diamonds - low-key relatable to me. BUT. His slang gets annoying after a while. His constant posting without peoples permission is weird too. Picture this. He's meeting your family for the first time, and you sit to have dinner. Cater takes a pic of you guys and posts it with the caption "With bae their fam, I'm a bit nervous guys wish me luck!🥺"#girldad #boymom #saveme Your family assumed it's his humor. WRONG. It's his way of coping with his uncomfortability. When it's silent during dinner he says" OH EM GEE GIRLYPOPS!!!, this food is so SLAY💅!! Tysm bestiessss" Your family gives him the nastiest side eye. He never speaks again.

7/10 he seems to be a pretty sweet and understanding person, just needs better ways to express himself . Also he calls your mother queenie.

Trey Clover - he’s an interesting guy. You'll typically see him as an npc, but he's much more than that. Have you seen his *tips fedora * "m'lady" stare?? Yeah there's definitely something strange going on there. He's a pretty family oriented guy tho, and he loves to bake for his s/o and to provide comfort and care.

8/10 he's probably one of the more normal ones that I would actually date. Or be friends with. Just keep one eye open when your sleeping with ur with him tho

Ace Trappola- I don't understand how someone could even like him. He's the kinda kid to push you off the swing during recess and when you tell the teacher he'll go like "NUH UH!! THEY HIT ME FIRST!!" . Plus he's canonically not a good partner lmaoooo

3/10 he’s not even a middle schooler. Too pebble brained. Don't date a gremlin like him. maybe if he finds someone like him he might maintain a steady relationship.

Deuce Spades- no thoughts head empty. He needs a little direction in life but he's got a goal in mind. He's a lil stupid but he's getting there. He's such so sweet and silly you have to love him. But he needs to mature a bit before entering a long term relationship

6/10 not my type, I would go for his mom instead. Plus his dad is literally dr.eggman, that explains everything. but yeah he's got what It takes, be kind to him. He's fragile. Like an egg.

ᓚᘏᗢ Savannaclaw ᓚᘏᗢ

Leona Kingscholar - girl he is 21 years old he should be in the CLUB!!!!! But no. He's sitting alone eating Kentucky fried chicken alone on a Friday night. If he really wanted someone, he could go for it, but he seriously can't be bothered. If you do manage to get him attached to you it'll take him a while to fully love you as much as you love him, as well as put in the same amount of effort .

7/10- I don't think he genuinely needs a partner. He's got his own issues to sort out. But when he falls, he falls hard. I wonder how hard his abs are.

Ruggie Bucchi - Rugbartholomew !!!! The scrunkly. The scrimp. It'll be so fun horsing around with this guy. Being his s/o is like being his partner in crime. It'll be fun, and you guys support each other . He really cares abt his loved ones and always tries to bring something to the table for them, literally and metaphorically. Midnight runs to seven eleven. He's working 10 jobs at a time. He's EMPLOYED. He's a boyemployee. He just needs his girlboss to complete him.

5/10 he's a bit scummy tbh. It'll take him a while to fully trust someone. He’d do some sleazy things for money. It also gives you the ick when he smells donuts and starts floating towards them.

Jack Howl- he's surprisingly normal. He's got a set sleep schedule , he's healthy, he has set routines, and healthy coping mechanisms. But that's the thing. as much as he is such a caring and gentle lover, these routines take up most of his life and time. He would be waking you up at ungodly hours for a morning jog only for you to pass out midway to Mount Kilimanjaro. .

7/10 -he dates for marriage, and he’s really serious about his future and starting a family. So he’s such a loyal and protective guy. He's just too much of a gym bro. He prefers pre-workout over partners. Also he unironically likes alpha/werewolf quotes.

𓆝𓆟𓆜 Octivinelle 𓆝𓆟𓆜

Azul Ashengrotto- I love him so much. He's so me guys you don't get it (capitalism) but that aside, HES SO DAMN WEIRD LMAOOOOOO like he thinks he has rizz but he just looks like a Reddit 'nice guy'. Legitimately says m'lady. He gives off the fake dating trope to me. He'd date you to get something out of you but then actually fall hard bc he's touch starved and longs to feel emotionally vulnerable but is afraid of it. So he's an absolute mess in a relationship and needs a lot of reassurance. But yeah he's pretty bitchless

7/10 he's gorgeous, but he sounds like that one pufferfish singing thing. I relate to him a lot so he gets points. Also since his parents are divorced he definitely has a high divorceability. I have a theory in the works that since we don't know who his biological father is, it might just be Mr. Krabbs. Like it's never said he's a full octopus (to my knowledge). SpongeBob and squidward are Floyd and Jade respectively. SpongeBob X twisted wonderland when?

Floyd Leech- he drank battery acid as a baby. Like dude you're in love with a nuclear fission bomb. If you like Floyd, you're just as fucked up as he is. It's okay tho, he's a very physically affectionate guy and may be overly possessive and obsessive but that's just his charm dw abt it. He also does thing like "if you hug me, expect a little nibbling on your earlobe 😝" and he bites off your entire ear.

2/10 his kisses taste like fish and sheet metal, and he licks short peoples heads when no one's looking.

Jade Leech- if you saw him eat mushrooms well no you didn't because if he eated mushrooms then he would have not eating mushroom bc no . His version of love is psychological warfare . He’s a mysterious guy. Let's set a scenario for him. You're sitting in the monstro lounge. You see a tall, dark and handsome man across the bar with a mysterious aura. You catch his gaze and quickly dart your eyes away. But his never stop staring at you. He comes up to you and you guys chat naturally . He buys you a drink, your favorite actually. He knows all the ways to make you swoon. He’s so dreamy. Then he says that he put cyanide in your drink as joke. Then he lets it slip he's been stalking you for days. You find out his a wanted criminal. And end scene. Yeah that's romance with him.

4/10 he's an attentive and observant guy, but sadly that's way before you guys are dating and he's a psych ward escapee.

𓄼𖣠 Scarabia 𖣠𓄹

Kalim Al-Asim - OTTERRRR!!! I love otters. He’s like deuce. But rich. And more innocent(ignorant). He’s so head over heels for his s/o bro. He’d shower them with his love and gifts. He still has a lot to learn in life, but he's willing to give it all to you. You should be honored.

6/10 he's my son. Treat him well. I can’t forgive him for what he did to Jamil tho.

Jamil Viper- AWWHH YEAH BABY!!! He’s so Fine oml. But personal bias aside, he's very much insane. He’s just a closeted insane.pre-overblot he wouldn't even date u bro he would pretend u don't exist but then hate u being around Kalim. Post-overblot he accidentally avoids you because he has no idea how to express or hide his feelings for you. Okay but definitely has w rizz. Azul seethes at the sight him. Like chewing up his fedora and spitting it out type shit. Men wish they were Jamil.

8/10 he's so wifey, he can cook he can clean I will give him a ring if u don't. Minus points for the attempted murder, but still he's pwetty so I forgive him (*^ω^*) . He probably once got hit in the head with a basketball with you looking.

⊹𖥔˖࣪ Pomefiore⊹𖥔˖࣪

Vil Schoenheit - okay this one's hard cus he's literally just my mother. But more fierce diva cunty. I've been sleeping on his character ngl, but now that I think about it he's pretty relatable. Like everyone wishes to be beautiful, in some sort of way. I think in a relationship he'll need some reassurance about his looks, but also about it his partner only wants him for his looks. I don't think he actually has high standards, he would probably want someone pretty normal, but also takes good care of themselves, not just appearance-wise.

8/10 he's pretty good as an s/o, but the fame aspect will make things very difficult. Also expect him to be brutally honest with you or pick apart your appearance. He's just trying make sure u look ur best bro he's caring like that. Would make an excellent rupauls drag race judge.

Rook Hunt - I have sent a nuke to your exact coordinates. Why would u want him bro he’s Fr*nch AND a felon. There's no good aspects of this relationship he has negative rizz and his fucking bob makes him look like SpongeBob took the gay potion from the dark web at 3 am. also, he's already mentally married you and has your wedding dress prepared as well as a loan taken out for your new family home before you even know his name.

0/10 Mr Electric KILL HIM!!! Probably the kinda guy to post a selfie captioned "who want me" and then before epel can reply "the mental hospital " his post gets taken down due to mass reporting and his account gets suspended and he's put on an fbi watchlist.

Epel Felmier- ngl mood bro. It's so annoying being seen as fragile and weak simply for your inherent femininity.I believe in a relationship he'd want someone that tells him what he wants to hear. He'll have some trouble accepting some facts, especially with his anger issues, but he'll learn to sort that out. He's a sweet boy at heart. He just feels he needs to overcompensate due to his appearance.

6/10 I'm not an anger issues kinda guy. It takes resilience to deal with, something i don't have for that. He probs listens to red pill podcasts while on a tractor. He's a 14 year old boy who just discovered Andrew Tate (he's deathly afraid of women)

꒷꒦꒷Ignihyde꒷꒦꒷

Idia Shroud- no. I have no idea how you could have feelings for him if you've never seen him. And definitely not online bc 1. He would never engage in that 2. Theres nothing romantic about the call of duty lobby. Also another guy with negative rizz. But not like in the creepy way like rook but in a loser way. He genuinely believes he is unfit for a relationship and that he is undeserving of love. If somehow he finds someone like that he'd be attached to them until the day he dies.

8/10 I love me a loser boy. He def has trust issues and paranoia but who doesn't in this game. He's rich so he could spoil u with the battle pass for literally any game. Plus ortho ends up becoming your little brother too. It's a win-win. Also don't ask him if the carpet matches the drapes.

Ortho Shroud- would probs hire u to date his brother out of genuine fear the dude would be alone for the rest of his life.

𓆩 ♡ 𓆪Diasomnia𓆩 ♡ 𓆪

Malleus Draconia - his prehistoric charm and awkward demeanor had captivated you, it seems. But yeah he's the kinda guy to say lines like "For the world could be dying and I would have never noticed it because I would have been not paying attention to the world itself, but would be gazing into your eyes watching them shine like the stars". He's soooo down bad. he's so happy to finally have someone to love him. Very very very loyal. But sometimes toes the line of yandere.

9/10 he's so wonderful. All he wants is to love and be loved. But he still thinks of romance in this Victorian ages and gets hard when he sees your ankles or sumn.

Lilia Vanrouge- this Gent a wee bit peculiar innit? He has connections within the furry community that could destroy your life in seconds. He's everything. He’s everywhere. All at once. He genuinely has dabbled in many different things over the years , so he'll never run out of stories to tell. Many 3 am Minecraft dates. Those upside down Spider-Man kisses. He’s more than ready to settle down with someone have kids of his own. Maybe have a girl. Name her draculaura, you know the rest. He probably went to monster high ngl. But he's a much more mature kinda guy. Definitely knows what he wants in a relationship. He's reasonable too. But you guys don't sleep in the same bed he hangs from the ceiling in a sleeping bag.

9/10 he's a bit vertically challenged and sometimes summons ancient demons by accident. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear in forgotten languages.

Silver - he's the female gaze bro. He's gorgeous . He’s legitimately a normal dude. But I don't think he's even been near a woman before. No rizz. Just soldier and eepy. But he definitely wants an s/o who can care for him a lot considering his narcolepsy. It's something that worries him a lot, and needs a person who's full of love to give, not only to him but to his family. But you're always welcome to nap with him underneath a tree in the warm sun.

7/10 he's a bit narrow-minded, only having a few goals set in mind and a strict regimen as a soldier. You have to work around that and his disorder in order to be his s/o. It's a lot dude. Especially when he leans in for a kiss but falls asleep inside and hits his head on the way down and gets brain damage.

Sebek Zigvolt- this gator wouldn't last a day in the Everglades bruh ‼️🚫I actually despise him. I have a picture of him in my room that I chew on when I get angry. Why is he always yelling. Why is he so obsessed with malleus even outside of his job. Actually, he probably leaves you for malleus. no chance with him bruh. But seriously you need to be super determined to get with him if you manage go past his alarm clock-like exterior. he's lonely.

3/10 I would turn him into a purse.his version of dirty talk is going "do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior wakasama-" and then you make him put his clothes back on and leave.

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Thank you for reading! ₍˄·͈༝·͈˄₎◞ ̑̑

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