#I was a Tattoo girl and I still love him but like

[thedensworld]

Adrenaline Rush | K. Mg

Genre: angst, established relationship, gangster au!, smut (18+)

Summary: Mingyu didn’t like to share, especially when it came to you—his lover. So when you left him, his thoughts were consumed with how he would punish you.

Warning: mention of violence, divorce, abuse, kidnap

Mingyu's ears perked the moment he caught Seungkwan mentioning your name. He immediately abandoned the stack of papers in front of him—those endless contracts or reports businessmen like him usually drowned in. None of it mattered now. Whenever it was about you, nothing else took precedence.

“We found her, hyung,” Seungkwan said, his voice laced with urgency.

Those words were all Mingyu needed. Without hesitation, he dismissed everyone around him with a wave of his hand, not caring for the startled looks on their faces. He stormed out, his long strides fueled by a single destination. A brothel. One of those dingy places frequented by lowly men seeking temporary escape. His jaw clenched as the thought sunk in—this is where you’d ended up? This is what you left him for?

The memory of you walking away from him all those years ago burned in his chest, but the thought of you stooping to such a life ignited something darker within him.

Mingyu chuckled, low and bitter, as he reached the establishment’s doorstep. You thought you could run from him? That you could escape the life you had with him? Foolish. He would never let you go again. Even if you screamed, even if you cursed him to hell and back, it wouldn’t matter.

You made mistakes, so many mistakes. And in his eyes, you deserved every ounce of punishment waiting for you now. From what he knew—and what you had proven in the past—being with him was punishment enough.

But this time, Mingyu vowed, it wouldn’t end the same way. You wouldn’t run again. Not now. Not ever.

At the heart of the dimly lit brothel, Mingyu met Jeonghan, the sharp-dressed owner of this lowly establishment. Jeonghan leaned against the bar, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he took in the sight of the towering businessman and his entourage. Mingyu wasted no time, motioning for Seungkwan, his ever-reliable right hand, to handle the introduction.

Seungkwan stepped forward, clearing his throat as he presented a photograph of you. "We’re looking for a girl named Y/n," he said, his voice calm yet firm.

Jeonghan glanced at the photo, his expression unreadable as he handed it back. He shook his head and smiled, his gaze drifting lazily to Mingyu. "We don’t do business with her. She’s exclusive," Jeonghan replied smoothly, his words laced with a challenge that made Mingyu’s jaw clench.

The tension in the air thickened. Seungkwan, ever the diplomat, opened his mouth to negotiate, but Mingyu cut him off with a voice that brooked no argument. "How much for her?"

Jeonghan’s smirk widened into a grin, sly and unbothered. "Now we’re talking about something I love—money," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. But then, with a dramatic sigh, he added, "Unfortunately for you, boss, she’s not for sale."

Mingyu mirrored Jeonghan’s grin, but his eyes held none of the humor. They wandered lazily around the room, taking in the lavishly decorated yet sordid interior. With a flick of his wrist, he signaled his men outside. Moments later, several burly figures with tattooed arms and intimidating glares entered, their presence immediately darkening the atmosphere. These weren’t just bodyguards—they were the kind of men who got their hands dirty for Mingyu without a second thought.

"I could burn this place to the ground in seconds," Mingyu said casually, his tone calm but laced with menace as his dark gaze settled on Jeonghan. He stepped closer, lowering his voice, the threat now unmistakable. "Now, tell me—she’s still not for sale?"

Jeonghan held his gaze for a long moment, the smirk never quite leaving his lips. He glanced between Mingyu and Seungkwan, weighing his options. Finally, he chuckled softly, raising a hand in mock surrender. "Follow me, gentlemen," he said, motioning them toward the back.

Jeonghan’s office was exactly what Mingyu had anticipated—classic and dimly lit, with dark wood furniture, leather chairs, and a faint aroma of cigar smoke lingering in the air. A single golden lamp illuminated the room, casting long shadows across the walls. Jeonghan motioned for Mingyu and Seungkwan to take a seat, but Mingyu remained standing, his imposing frame towering over the desk.

Jeonghan settled into his chair with a casual ease, folding his hands in front of him as he looked up at Mingyu with a bemused smile. "So," he began, his voice smooth, almost teasing, "what’s the story here? What’s she to you? A runaway lover? An unfaithful wife?"

Mingyu’s jaw tightened at the question, his eyes narrowing. "That’s none of your business," he replied coldly. "Just tell me where she is."

Jeonghan chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "See, that’s the thing, boss. It is my business. Y/n is under my care now, and I don’t hand over my people to just anyone, especially when I don’t know their intentions."

Seungkwan, sensing the rising tension, stepped in. "We’re not here to cause trouble, Mr. Yoon. We’re simply here to take her back. My bosshas every right—"

"Every right?" Jeonghan interrupted, his gaze shifting sharply to Seungkwan before landing back on Mingyu. "Let me guess. She ran from you, didn’t she? And now you think you can just waltz in here, throw your weight around, and take her back like she’s some kind of lost property?"

Mingyu’s fists clenched at his sides, but his voice remained steady, albeit colder. "She belongs with me."

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. "Does she? Funny, because from what I’ve seen, she seems to be doing just fine without you."

"Fine?" Mingyu scoffed, his voice rising slightly. "You call living in this—" he gestured around the room, though it was clear he was referring to the entire establishment—"fine? You think I’ll let her stay in a place like this?"

Jeonghan’s expression darkened, the playful edge to his demeanor fading. "And you think dragging her back to you is the better option? Tell me, why did she leave you in the first place? What kind of man drives a woman to run to a place like this?"

The words hit harder than Mingyu expected, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he stepped closer to the desk, his towering presence now almost threatening. "I don’t need to explain myself to you," he growled. "She’s mine, and I’m taking her back."

Jeonghan met his glare head-on, unflinching. "Not if I have a say in it," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Y/n is under my protection now. I don’t care who you are or what you think you’re owed—if she doesn’t want to go with you, I’m not handing her over."

The room fell into a tense silence, the air thick with unspoken threats. Seungkwan shifted uncomfortably, glancing between the two men. Mingyu’s patience was wearing thin, his temper barely contained.

"You don’t understand," Mingyu said, his voice low and deadly. "I’m not leaving without her. So, either you cooperate, or I’ll make you regret it."

Jeonghan smirked again, leaning forward slightly. "Is that a threat?"

"It’s a promise," Mingyu shot back, his tone icy.

For a moment, the two men stared each other down, the tension crackling like a live wire. Finally, Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, the smirk never quite leaving his face. "You’re persistent, I’ll give you that," he said. "But persistence doesn’t mean you’re right. If Y/n wants to leave, fine—I won’t stop her. But if she doesn’t…" He trailed off, his meaning clear.

Mingyu’s eyes burned with determination. He wasn’t going to let Jeonghan—or anyone else—stand in his way.

*

"Jeonghan is looking for you," Yumi called out as she stepped into the kitchen, where you were commanding the staff with practiced ease.

You turned your head, surprise flickering across your face. "Really? At this hour?" you asked, glancing at the clock on the wall. It wasn’t common for Jeonghan to summon you during the busiest time of the day.

Curiosity mingled with unease as you stepped out of the kitchen, hastily taking off your apron and brushing the flour dust from your blouse. Straightening your posture, you made your way to his office, your heart thudding louder with each step.

Pushing the door open, you froze at the sight inside. Seated comfortably on Jeonghan’s sleek leather couch were two faces you hadn’t seen in years but could never forget. Mingyu and Seungkwan. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air growing heavy as their presence stirred a whirlwind of emotions you’d long buried.

They had found you.

Forcing yourself to take a deep breath, you stepped further into the room, willing your trembling hands to remain steady. You stopped near the desk and bowed your head politely, keeping your gaze firmly on the floor.

"Do you know them, Y/n?" Jeonghan’s voice broke through the tense silence, his tone casual but edged with curiosity.

You nodded slowly, clasping your hands behind your back to hide their shaking. "Yes," you murmured, your voice barely audible.

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes flickering between you and the men. "This gentleman here," he began, gesturing toward Mingyu, "wants you to come with him. He asked me to sell you."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, and your teeth bit into your bottom lip to keep the rising panic at bay. Your eyes remained glued to the scuffed toes of your old flats, blinking rapidly as the reality of the situation crashed over you. Summoning every ounce of courage, you finally lifted your head and met Jeonghan’s gaze.

"I’m not for sale," you said firmly, though your voice wavered ever so slightly.

Jeonghan smirked and turned to Mingyu. "You heard her, boss. She’s not for sale."

For a moment, the room was deathly silent. Then, without a word, Mingyu rose from his seat, his towering frame exuding an aura of quiet menace. He crossed the room in a few long strides, stopping right in front of you. Before you could react, his hand clamped around your arm, his grip firm but not painful.

"Then I’ll take her for the night," he said coldly, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "I’ll send her back tomorrow."

"No!" you protested, struggling against his grip. But he ignored you entirely, dragging you out of the office as if you weighed nothing.

You fought harder, your heart pounding in terror, but Mingyu didn’t even falter. One of his men stepped forward at his signal, muffling your protests with a hand over your mouth as he effortlessly hoisted you into his arms. Tears pricked at your eyes as you were carried out, helpless and humiliated.

Jeonghan didn’t move to stop him, though his eyes followed the scene with an unreadable expression. Seungkwan was nowhere to be seen, likely handling the details behind the scenes, as he always did.

You were shoved into a sleek black car, the smell of leather and cologne overwhelming your senses. Moments later, Mingyu climbed in beside you, shutting the door with a quiet finality.

For a moment, the car was silent as he stared at you, his dark eyes cold and calculating. You felt small under his gaze, dirty and insignificant. The contrast between the two of you was stark—he, immaculate in his tailored suit, every inch the powerful man who never dirtied his hands. And you, disheveled and raw, someone who had clawed her way through life’s filth.

"Where are we going?" you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling as you avoided his gaze.

Mingyu didn’t answer. He leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. His silence was deafening, and with each passing second, the fear in your chest swelled like a tidal wave, threatening to drown you.

You clutched at the hem of your blouse, fighting to keep your composure as the car sped off into the night, carrying you toward an uncertain fate.

The drive felt endless, the silence in the car heavy with unspoken tension. Your heart pounded relentlessly as the city lights blurred past, each mile pulling you closer to a destination you had tried so hard to leave behind. When the car finally pulled up to the familiar building, your breath hitched. So, he still lived here. After all these years, nothing had changed.

You barely had time to process before one of Mingyu’s men yanked the car door open, grabbing you roughly. You struggled against his grip, but it was useless as he hoisted you onto his shoulder like a sack of rice. Humiliation burned in your chest as you were carried inside, powerless to stop him.

The next thing you knew, you were thrown onto a large, familiar bed, the softness beneath you starkly contrasting the harshness of your situation. Your eyes darted to Mingyu, who stood tall beside his man, his commanding posture radiating authority. His gaze was cold, unyielding, a side of him you had never known—or perhaps had refused to see until now.

He kept surprising you, even after all these years.

"Take a shower," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I’ll wait for you."

He turned and walked to an armchair in the corner of the room, sinking into it with a calmness that made your skin crawl. His sharp eyes remained on you, watching, waiting.

Your mind raced with questions. What was he planning to do? Why was he looking for you now, after two years of silence?

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat almost unbearable. The Mingyu you had once known was far removed from the man before you now—this version of him was colder, darker, and infinitely more dangerous.

*

Mingyu adjusted his pants, his movements slow and deliberate, as his eyes remained fixed on you. You lay on the bed, your body trembling as sobs wracked through you. The sound of your cries filled the room, and for a moment, it was as if time had rewound to a past neither of you could fully escape.

Once, that sound had been his undoing. He used to hate hearing you cry, hated the way it made him feel helpless and consumed by guilt. Every tear you shed back then felt like a blade slicing through him, a reminder of how much he had failed you.

But now? Now, it was different.

Two years had passed since you walked out of his life without a word, and he had made himself a promise. He no longer cared to soothe your pain or ease your fears. All he wanted was to hear you cry—louder, longer, and only because of him.

He didn’t flinch at the sight of your tear-streaked face or the broken sounds that escaped your lips. Instead, a dark satisfaction curled at the edges of his mind. This was what you deserved. You had run from him, abandoned him, left him to piece himself back together alone.

And now, he would make sure you never forgot the price of leaving.

Mingyu leaned against the wall, his gaze unrelenting, as though your pain was the only thing grounding him in this moment. His voice was low, almost a murmur, as he finally spoke.

"Don’t stop," he said, his tone devoid of the warmth it once held. "I like it when you cry."

Mingyu walked out of the room, closing the door behind him without a second glance. His long strides carried him through the quiet halls of his penthouse, the tension in his shoulders evident. He summoned Seungkwan with a sharp nod as soon as he saw him waiting in the adjacent living room.

"How did the negotiations go with Jeonghan?" Mingyu asked, his voice curt, every word clipped with impatience.

Seungkwan adjusted his tie, his face carefully neutral as he responded. "Jeonghan didn’t make it easy, as expected. He insisted she wasn’t for sale and tried to keep his cards close. But when we presented the legal documents…" Seungkwan trailed off, glancing at Mingyu for approval before continuing. "He had no choice but to back down. He can’t hold her. Not when the paperwork makes it clear—she’s yours. Filed and legal."

Mingyu let out a low hum, the corner of his lips twitching in what might have been satisfaction. "Good. Jeonghan may think he’s untouchable, but even he knows better than to challenge what’s already mine."

He dismissed Seungkwan with a wave of his hand, not waiting for a reply as he headed toward his bedroom. His steps slowed as he approached the door, the weight of the past pressing against him with every step.

Inside, the room was dimly lit, exactly as he’d left it two years ago. It felt frozen in time, untouched and preserved like a mausoleum of their shared history. On the nightstand sat the object that had haunted him all this time—your wedding band.

It lay there, small and unassuming, but its presence was enough to stir something in him. The sight of it was a cruel reminder of the night you had walked out, leaving it behind as if it had meant nothing. He reached for it, his fingers brushing the cool metal as a bitter smile played on his lips.

"You thought you could leave," he murmured to himself, the weight of the ring heavy in his palm. "But you were mine then, and you’re mine now. No one else has the right to you."

Mingyu rubbed the cool metal of the ring on his finger, the same one that had circled it for five years now. The weight of it felt heavier tonight, a reminder of the moment he had impulsively decided to settle down with you. It hadn’t been planned—it was a reckless decision, one made in the heat of the moment.

It was in one of his nightclubs where it all began. He had been sitting in a VIP booth, deep in conversation with Dino, one of his most trusted managers. Mingyu’s gaze wandered, and then he saw you—sitting alone at the bar, nursing a drink with an air of detachment.

“She’s a regular,” Dino had said, noticing where Mingyu’s eyes lingered. “Still young, but life’s been rough on her. Seems to have hit her harder than most.”

Mingyu saw himself in you then, a familiar weight of the world reflected in your posture, in the way your eyes avoided the lively crowd around you.

He remembered every detail from that night—the red tube dress that hugged your frame, the way your shoulder-length hair framed your face perfectly, enhancing your natural charm. You were magnetic, even in your silence, and something about you drew him in before he could stop himself.

Without hesitation, he stood and made his way to you. The noise of the nightclub faded into the background as he approached, leaning casually against the bar beside you.

“I’m Mingyu,” he said, his voice cutting through the noise of the nightclub.

You barely glanced at him, muttering an indifferent, “Okay,” before taking another sip.

Most people would have turned toward him, eager to make an impression. But not you. Your disinterest amused him, even challenged him. He found himself wanting to break through that wall, to see what was behind it.

“I like your dress,” he said, his lips curving into a small smile.

You froze for a second before finally meeting his gaze, the suspicion in your eyes softening just slightly. “Thanks,” you said, your tone still wary but warmer now. “I designed it myself.”

Mingyu’s brows lifted in surprise. “You’re a designer?”

“Not yet,” you muttered, a bitter edge to your voice. “I’m a fashion design student.”

The way your shoulders sagged just slightly didn’t escape him. “What’s holding you back?”

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head as if the weight of the world rested on your shoulders. “I just lost my part-time job,” you admitted. “I’m drowning in bills, I’m behind on rent, and I’m about two weeks away from dropping out. So yeah, life’s peachy.”

Mingyu felt a strange pang in his chest as he listened. He’d been there once, clawing his way out of his own struggles. He saw a reflection of himself in your frustration, in your refusal to give up even when everything seemed stacked against you.

“Why not ask for help?” he asked, his tone more curious than judgmental.

You scoffed, your lips curling into a bitter smile. “From who? My family’s barely getting by, and my friends aren’t in a position to help. It’s just me.”

Something about the way you said it—so resigned yet so determined—hit him harder than he expected. He hadn’t come to the bar looking to get involved in anyone else’s problems, but now he couldn’t ignore the pull he felt toward you.

“What if someone did help you?” he asked, his voice quiet but firm.

You shot him a wary look, your brows knitting together. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll give you a job,” he said simply, watching your reaction closely.

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering across your face. “What kind of job?”

“Something stable,” he replied, shrugging as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Enough to cover your bills and keep you in school.”

You stared at him, clearly caught off guard. “Why would you do that?”

“Maybe I see something in you,” he said, holding your gaze. “Something worth investing in.”

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “There’s always a catch.”

Mingyu tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “You’re right. There is.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Be my girl.”

Your eyes widened, and for the first time that night, you looked genuinely rattled. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, his voice steady and unyielding. “Date me. Stay by my side. Let me take care of you.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, your lips parting as if you were about to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“That’s insane,” you finally said, your voice rising slightly.

“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug. “But it’s the best offer you’re going to get.”

Your hands clenched into fists, and Mingyu could see the storm brewing in your eyes, the way you were fighting to hold your ground. But he also saw the hesitation, the flicker of doubt that told him you were considering it, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“And if I say no?” you challenged, your voice sharper now.

Mingyu’s smile faded, replaced by a look of calm seriousness. “Then you keep struggling,” he said matter-of-factly. “And I walk away.”

The air between you felt heavy, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Mingyu could see the conflict written all over your face, the way your pride clashed with your desperation.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek business card, placing it on the bar in front of you. “Take your time,” he said as he straightened up. “But don’t take too long. Opportunities like this don’t wait forever.”

Mingyu's fingers traced the cold metal of the wedding band that had sat on his finger for five years. He could still see your face so clearly that night, framed by the dim lighting of the bar. He remembered the fire in your eyes, the sharpness of your words, and the way your defiance had chipped away at his guarded heart. You hadn’t made it easy for him. In fact, you’d fought him every step of the way. But somehow, in your stubbornness, he’d found something he never knew he needed.

He chuckled bitterly at the memory of you glaring at him when he handed you that business card. He had left the club half-convinced you’d never call. But you did, two days later. And that one decision had set everything in motion—your life intertwined with his so quickly it felt inevitable, like the universe had conspired to push you together.

Mingyu’s hand clenched into a fist, his knuckles whitening as the weight of the present slammed back into him. The bedroom was silent now, suffocatingly so. His eyes fell on the wedding band that still sat on the small glass tray by the bed—your band. The one you had left behind two years ago.

The ache in his chest deepened as he reached out and picked it up, holding it between his fingers. It felt heavier than he remembered, or maybe that was just the weight of your absence. He turned it over, his thumb brushing against the faint engraving inside: Forever, no matter what.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips, filled with self-loathing and regret. No matter what, he thought, his jaw tightening. That promise had shattered the night you walked away, leaving nothing but unanswered questions and an emptiness he couldn’t fill, no matter how hard he tried.

Now you were back—thrown back into his orbit by circumstances neither of you could escape. But this time, Mingyu wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers. He would hold on to you, no matter what it took. No matter what had happened between you, no matter how far you had run, Mingyu wasn’t about to let anyone—not even you—take that away from him.

*

Mingyu’s jaw clenched as his emotions roiled, threatening to spill over the edge. He paced the length of the room, each heavy step reverberating through the walls. The mere mention of you leaving, of you wanting to go "home," ignited something dangerous in him. He stopped abruptly and turned to face you, his dark eyes narrowing, filled with unrestrained fury and hurt.

"This is your home, Y/n," he growled, his voice low but trembling with intensity. "You're not going anywhere."

You flinched at his tone, your lips parting to protest, but no words came out. His presence was suffocating, his emotions a storm that threatened to consume everything in its path.

Your trembling hand reached for the wedding band you had tossed at him moments ago, lying carelessly on the floor like a discarded piece of your past. But Mingyu was faster. He bent down, scooped it up, and straightened with a sharpness that made you freeze in place.

He took a step toward you, towering over your seated form on the edge of the bed. "You think you can just throw this away?" he demanded, holding up the ring between his fingers. "You think you can throw me away?"

His words sliced through the room, heavy with the weight of his anguish. You met his gaze, defiance flickering in your eyes despite the fear. "I never leave. You—"

"No," he interrupted harshly, his voice rising. "You don’t get to justify what you did."

Before you could say another word, Mingyu grabbed your left hand with a firm grip, his touch both rough and possessive. His movements were deliberate as he slid the wedding ring back onto your finger, forcing it down until it rested snugly where it once had.

"You don’t get to decide this anymore," he spat, his tone laced with betrayal. "You’re mine, Y/n. You’ve always been mine. And you will wear this, whether you like it or not."

You yanked your hand back, tears welling up in your eyes as you shook your head. "You shouldn't treat me like this. You—"

"You left me two years ago!" Mingyu roared, his anger finally breaking free. "You walked away when things got hard, and now you think you can waltz back into this life like you have any right to tell me what’s yours and what isn’t?"

His words hit you like a slap, and the tears you had been holding back began to fall. But it wasn’t just anger in his voice. Beneath the fury was something raw, something broken, something desperate.

Mingyu’s shoulders rose and fell with heavy breaths as he struggled to rein in his emotions. He turned away from you, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He didn’t want to break in front of you—not like this. But seeing the way you treated him now, after everything, after all those nights he spent waiting and wondering if you were alive or dead—it gutted him.

"You don’t get to walk away again, Y/n," he said finally, his voice quieter now but no less intense. "Not this time. Not ever."

You sat frozen on the bed, your hand trembling as you stared down at the ring now back on your finger. The weight of it felt suffocating, a reminder of all the promises you had broken, all the ties you thought you had severed.

Mingyu turned to face you again, his expression hardened but his eyes betraying the depth of his pain. "You’re staying," he said, finality dripping from every word. "And you’re going to learn that running from me was the biggest mistake of your life."

And with that, he left the room, slamming the door behind him, leaving you alone with the suffocating weight of his words—and the impossible decision you had made two years ago to leave the man who refused to let you go.

*

Mingyu pounced on you mercilessly, his unrelenting touch leaving no room for protest. Tears streaked your cheeks, remnants of the countless climaxes he had forced out of you since bringing you back to this house. Every movement felt like a punishment, each thrust a reminder of his control and your helplessness beneath him.

You didn’t recognize this version of Mingyu. The man you once knew was sweet, attentive, and so careful with you. He worshiped you in a way that made you feel cherished, not claimed.

“Red dress,” you remembered him saying one night long ago, his voice soft like a whisper in the dark as he cradled you. “That’s the word. Say it if I cross the line, love.” His lips had trailed along your skin back then, his hands moving with reverence, bringing you both to a shared climax that felt like love and devotion wrapped into one.

But the Mingyu hovering above you now was someone you didn’t know. His eyes burned with something darker, something destructive. He didn’t hear you—or maybe he refused to. The only sound he seemed to acknowledge was your cries, and instead of stopping, it fueled him, driving him harder, faster, as though he wanted to break every part of you that had dared to leave him.

Your hands weakly pushed against his chest, trying to create some distance as his pace quickened, his body chasing his release with a rough intensity that only added to your pain. It wasn’t love—it was punishment. And it was tearing you apart.

“Mingyu…” you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper as you gasped for air, your chest heaving beneath his weight. But he didn’t stop. He didn’t slow. He was too lost in his anger, his obsession, his need to make you his again.

It was too much. Your body ached, your heart cracked, and the memories you had buried. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Red dress…” The word fell from your lips, faint and trembling, but it was enough to make his movements falter. You gripped his shoulders with what little strength you had left, your voice louder this time, more desperate. “Red dress!”

For the first time, you said it. He made you say it.

Mingyu froze above you, his body stiffening as your safe word registered. His breathing was ragged, his hands still gripping your hips tightly, but the haze of anger and desire in his eyes began to clear. The weight of what he had done—and what he had almost done—crashed down on him like a tidal wave.

He pulled away from you abruptly, sitting back on his heels as he ran a hand through his damp hair. His gaze dropped to the floor, avoiding yours, as his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths.

You curled into yourself further, clutching the sheets tightly against your trembling body. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t block out the flicker of memories that surged forward, uninvited and cruel.

A darkened room. A rough hand clamping over your mouth. The searing pain that ripped through you as you struggled, screamed, and pleaded with a monster who didn’t care. His laughter, cold and hollow, echoing in your ears as he broke you in ways you could never mend.

Your chest tightened as the memories clawed their way to the surface, the terror suffocating. You shut your eyes tightly, hoping to will them away, but they were relentless, forcing you to relive every second. The metallic tang of blood, the biting cold of the floor beneath you, and the deafening silence after it was all over—they haunted you.

"Stop…" you whispered, your voice shaky, as though saying it aloud could chase the memories away.

Mingyu’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice, his eyes filled with concern. He hadn’t seen you like this before, hadn’t known how deeply you were fractured beneath the surface.

“Y/n…” he murmured, his voice low and cautious. He reached out a hand toward you, but you flinched, shrinking further into yourself as the memories overwhelmed you.

The sound of a lock clicking echoed in your mind, followed by the ghost of a whisper, taunting and cruel: “No one’s coming for you. You’re mine now.”

You choked on a sob, clutching your knees to your chest as your breathing grew shallow. Your entire body trembled, the scars of that night ripping open as if they had never healed.

Mingyu froze, his hand hovering in the air, trembling slightly as he watched you crumble before him. This was the moment he thought he wanted—the moment you would break, the moment you would stumble into pieces right in front of him, a reflection of the pain he carried for two long years. He had imagined it countless times, the satisfaction it would bring to see you fall apart under the weight of your own actions, just as he had when you left him.

But now that it was happening, it felt nothing like he expected.

You weren’t just broken; you were shattered in ways he hadn’t anticipated. Your trembling body, the way your arms wrapped tightly around yourself like you were trying to hold what was left together—it wasn’t the kind of collapse he had fantasized about. This wasn’t regret or guilt consuming you. This was fear, despair, and something far deeper and darker than he could ever understand.

“Y/n…” he whispered, his voice faltering as he tried to reach you, but the sight of you made his hand retreat. It was as if he could feel the weight of your pain just by being near you.

Your sobs were raw and unrestrained, tearing through the room like thunder in the silence. It was unbearable, a sound he had sworn to never let leave your lips when you were his. And now, he was the reason for it, the catalyst of your unraveling.

He had wanted to see you vulnerable, to prove to himself that you weren’t untouchable, that you weren’t as strong as you appeared when you walked away. But this? This wasn’t what he wanted. The sight of your broken form twisted something inside him, something he didn’t even realize was still intact.

His lips parted as if to speak, to comfort, to apologize, but the words died in his throat. What could he say to someone who looked so lost, so haunted by a pain he couldn’t comprehend? Tears filled his eyes, blurring his vision as he whispered your name again, softer this time. “I’m sorry…”

But the words tasted bitter on his tongue, hollow and meaningless against the devastation before him. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, couldn’t stop the ache in his chest as he realized just how far gone you were.

This was what he thought he wanted—to see you stumble, to watch you fall. But now that you had, he realized he had been wrong. He didn’t want this. He couldn’t watch you like this, drowning in a darkness he might never be able to pull you out of.

*

You met Jeonghan on a ship bound for Jeju, a vessel that had become your prison for the past month. They had held you there, tied to a bed in a dimly lit room, your wrists raw from struggling against the ropes. A filthy cloth gagged your mouth, muffling your screams while they came and went, using you as their entertainment during the long voyage.

You didn’t know what they planned to do with you. After realizing you were nothing to Mingyu, that he wasn’t coming for you, their patience had grown thin. They could’ve killed you—thrown you overboard into the endless black waves—but they kept you alive, perhaps for their own cruel satisfaction or some plan yet to be revealed.

The ship was alive with noise that night. A New Year’s Eve party was in full swing above deck, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses filtering down to your dark corner of despair. But you weren’t thinking about celebration. You had spent the past hours tossing and turning, twisting your body until the ropes that bound you finally gave way.

Your hands were shaking as you worked the knife left carelessly on the desk to cut yourself free. You didn’t know how much time you had, but every second felt like a ticking clock. Once your wrists and ankles were free, you tore the gag from your mouth, the sudden rush of air painful but freeing. Your lips were cracked, your throat parched, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was getting out.

For the first time in a month, you stepped out of the room, your bare feet silent against the cold floor of the corridor. The world outside your prison felt foreign—bright lights, distant music, the murmur of voices—and it overwhelmed your senses. But you didn’t stop moving. You couldn’t.

That’s when you saw him.

Jeonghan. A stranger to you, yet his presence stopped you in your tracks. He was walking down the corridor, dressed in crisp white, his sharp features illuminated under the warm glow of the ship’s chandeliers. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, everything else disappeared.

His brows furrowed, his steps slowing as he studied you, his gaze dropping to the knife clutched tightly in your trembling hands. Before you could decide whether he was a threat or a potential savior, he spoke.

"I'm sorry,” he said softly, his voice laced with something that felt like grief. “You…you look like my late sister.”

You bit your lip hard, the guilt rising in your chest even though you didn’t know why. You didn’t have time for this. Every second wasted was a chance for them to find you.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice breaking as desperation took over. “Help me. I’ve been kidnapped. They held me here for a month. They’re going to kill me. Please…”

Jeonghan’s expression shifted, his sharp features hardening as his gaze swept over you, taking in the marks on your wrists, the disheveled state of your clothes, and the raw fear in your eyes. For a moment, he said nothing, and you wondered if he would turn and walk away, leave you to whatever fate awaited you.

There was no hesitation in his movements as he gently took the knife from your trembling hands, his touch firm but careful, as if afraid you might shatter.

“Stay quiet,” he murmured, his voice calm yet commanding. It was the kind of tone that made you believe him, that gave you a fleeting sense of security amidst the chaos. “I’ll help you.”

"What are you thinking about?" Mingyu’s deep voice pulled you from the swirling storm of your thoughts. The dining room felt heavy with unspoken words, his presence almost suffocating as you sat across from him. Your gaze dropped to the wedding ring on your finger, spinning it absently. It hung loose now, a cruel reminder of how much weight you’d lost since the last time you’d worn it.

“Eat,” he said firmly, his tone edged with concern. “You’ve lost so much weight.”

You bit down on your bottom lip, your eyes squeezing shut as the ache in your chest grew unbearable.

"Why didn’t you look for me?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

The sound of his utensils halting against the plate echoed louder than it should have. Mingyu’s jaw tightened, his gaze unreadable as he looked at you. “Let’s not talk about this in front of the food,” he said finally, his voice clipped.

“I was waiting... for you…” Your voice cracked, the words barely audible. But even as you spoke them, the memories you’d buried began clawing their way back to the surface—the night they captured you as you walked out of his house, the nights they kept you, their hands holding you down, their voices laughing while your life was ripped apart piece by piece.

Mingyu’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the table, but he didn’t say a word. His silence cut deeper than any of the horrors you had endured.

“You left me,” he said finally, his tone low and cold. “It was your decision.”

Your heart sank further, his words like a knife twisting in your chest. Your eyes fell to the ring again, its presence mocking you, and before you could stop yourself, you slid it off your finger. The metal felt foreign in your palm, just as your life with Mingyu had started to feel like a distant dream.

“Divorce me, Mingyu,” you said, your voice shaking but resolute. “I beg you.”

You slid off your chair and onto your knees beside him, desperation consuming you as tears spilled down your cheeks. “Please, divorce me.”

Mingyu froze, his breath catching as he looked down at you in shock.

“Y/n,” he said quietly, his voice unsure, as if he didn’t recognize the woman kneeling before him—the woman who had once stood beside him with fire in her eyes and laughter in her voice.

“You never loved me,” you said, your voice breaking. “Why are you holding on to me like this? Why, Mingyu? Why?”

His expression twisted into something you couldn’t decipher—anger, pain, guilt. But still, he didn’t move, didn’t speak.

You clutched the ring in your hand, trembling as you searched his face for an answer, for any sign that the man you once knew still existed somewhere within him. But all you saw was the shadow of someone who refused to let you go, even if it meant keeping you trapped in the very thing that was tearing you apart.

*

"I told you, I'd kill for you!" Mingyu’s voice thundered across the room as he stood in front of you, his body trembling with anger. You clutched the file tightly in your hands, your chest heaving as you tried to hold your ground. The contents of the file—a health report of your boss who had ‘accidentally’ been involved in a car accident—felt heavier than ever.

"You can’t just interfere in my life like this!" you shouted back, your voice cracking under the weight of frustration and exhaustion. "I have my own life, Mingyu, one that’s completely separate from yours!"

His jaw tightened, his dark eyes burning with fury. "I did it for you! Why don’t you understand? I’ve always done everything for you!"

"You can’t use your power to manipulate people like that!" you shot back, shaking your head in disbelief. "This isn’t love, Mingyu! This is control!"

His fists clenched at his sides. "I did it because I love you! I wanted to protect you!"

"No," you said firmly, your voice cold and distant. "You did it because you wanted to prove something to yourself. You don’t love me. If you did, you’d listen to me. You’d trust me to handle my own life!"

The words cut through him, and for a moment, you saw the hurt flash across his face. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the seething anger he used to mask his pain.

"You never appreciate my efforts, Y/n. Do you even realize what I’ve done for you? I’ve given you everything!"

"And I never asked for any of it!" you snapped, your voice trembling with emotion. "I didn’t want your money, your power, or your obsession with control. I just wanted you, Mingyu. But you—you’ve made this impossible."

"I’ve made it impossible?" he asked incredulously, stepping closer to you. His towering figure loomed over you, but you refused to back down. "I’ve given my everything to you, and you’re telling me I’m the problem?"

"I’m done, Mingyu," you whispered, your voice barely audible. The weight of your decision pressed down on your chest, but you knew it was the only choice you had left.

"You’re not going anywhere," he said, his tone dropping to a dangerous low. His hand shot out to grab your arm, his grip firm but not enough to hurt. "It’s late. I’m not letting you leave in the middle of the night."

"Don’t tell me what to do!" you yelled, pulling your arm free. Your breathing was uneven, tears welling up in your eyes as you stared at him.

He stood there, his chest rising and falling heavily, his eyes searching yours for something—anything—to make you stay.

Without another word, you slipped the wedding ring from your finger, the cold metal burning your skin as you clenched it in your fist. Then, with trembling hands, you threw it at him. The sound of the ring hitting the floor echoed in the suffocating silence that followed.

"I’m leaving, Mingyu," you said, your voice breaking as tears streamed down your face. "Don’t look for me. Don’t try to find me."

You turned on your heel and walked toward the door, every step feeling like it was tearing you apart.

Mingyu watched your figure curled up against him, your body finally relaxed as you slept on his arm. His fingers moved instinctively, brushing the tear stains from your cheeks, the evidence of all the pain you had carried with you. Even after all this time, after everything that had happened between the two of you, you still held a place in his heart—one so sacred it terrified him. You awakened a part of him he didn’t know existed, a part that craved to protect and cherish, even when he didn’t know how to do it right.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. Watching you like this, peaceful in sleep, was a stark contrast to the chaos of earlier. The image of you kneeling before him, begging him to let you go, still burned in his mind. It made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t thought possible.

His thoughts drifted to the beginning, to the earlier days of your marriage, when everything was new and full of promise. He had loved you with every fiber of his being, and he still did. That hadn’t changed. But somewhere along the way, everything had shifted, spiraling into arguments and misunderstandings that neither of you could navigate.

Mingyu ran a hand over his face, exhaling a shaky breath as your words from earlier echoed in his head.

"Why didn’t you look for me?"

"I was waiting for you."

His jaw tightened as guilt twisted in his gut. He had looked for you. He had turned the world upside down trying to find you, desperate to bring you back into his life. He had sent people out, combed through every lead, and left no stone unturned. And yet, you’d slipped through his fingers like sand.

But why would you say that?

Why would you think he hadn’t searched for you?

Hadn’t you known how much he needed you?

“What went wrong?” he whispered into the stillness of the room, his voice trembling with frustration and confusion.

He glanced down at you again, at the faint crease of worry that lingered even in your sleep. Had he missed something? Had he been so blinded by his own grief and desperation that he’d overlooked something crucial?

Mingyu’s hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin as if trying to piece together the answers from the fragments of your shared past. He thought back to the fights, the nights you spent in silence, the moments when your eyes begged him to understand something he couldn’t see.

Mingyu noticed the faint movement of your eyelashes fluttering open as the morning light spilled into the room. He had been awake for a while, watching over you, memorizing the delicate rise and fall of your chest and the way your hand unconsciously rested near his heart.

A soft smile tugged at his lips as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering in your hair like it was the most natural thing in the world. You blinked a few times, your gaze unfocused at first, before your eyes met his.

“Am I dreaming?” you murmured, your voice hoarse with sleep.

He shook his head slowly, his smile deepening as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your temple. His lips lingered there for a moment, warm and reassuring, as if he were silently promising that this was real.

“No,” he whispered against your skin, his voice low and steady. “You’re not dreaming.”

You stared at him, your brows furrowing slightly as if you couldn’t believe he was there, holding you like this after everything. Mingyu shifted closer, his hand cupping the side of your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek.

“I’m here,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Your lips trembled, and for a moment, Mingyu thought you were about to cry again. But instead, you exhaled shakily, your hand hesitantly reaching up to rest against his chest.

“Why?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “Why are you still here after everything?”

Mingyu’s smile faltered, but his gaze never wavered. He leaned his forehead against yours, his voice trembling with emotion as he replied, “Because I love you, Y/n. I always have. Even when it hurt, even when I didn’t know how to show it, I never stopped.”

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you searched his face, looking for any sign of dishonesty, but all you found was sincerity and the weight of a man who had been carrying the burden of his love for far too long.

“And I know I’ve made mistakes,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly. “But I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for them if you’ll let me.”

You didn’t answer right away, your hand tightening slightly against his chest as if grounding yourself in the reality of his words. Mingyu didn’t rush you; he simply held you, his heart pounding beneath your palm, as he waited for you to decide if you could let him back in.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely audible as you broke the silence. “Can you protect me?”

Mingyu’s brows furrowed, his hand still resting against your cheek. “What?”

“From anything,” you whispered, your eyes searching his face. “If it happens again… if they come back… could you save me? Will you always be there?”

Mingyu blinked, confused by the weight of your words. His thumb stilled against your skin as he tried to process what you were saying. “Y/n,” he said softly, tilting his head, “what are you talking about? Who’s coming back?”

You bit your lip, hesitating as the memories clawed at the edge of your mind. “Just… answer me,” you urged, your voice trembling.

“I don’t understand,” he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. He sat up straighter, his hands gripping your shoulders gently. “What do you mean, ‘if it happens again’? What happened to you?”

You averted your gaze, unable to look him in the eye. “Mingyu, please,” you said, your voice cracking. “Just promise me you’ll be there next time. That no matter what happens, you’ll come for me.”

His heart twisted at your words, at the way your voice shook like you were asking for the impossible. He cupped your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I did come for you,” he said, his voice firm but laced with pain. “I looked everywhere for you. I tried—God, Y/n, I tried so hard to find you.”

“But you didn’t,” you whispered, your tears spilling over. “You didn’t find me, Mingyu. And I was alone. They took me, they—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, his hands trembling as he held you. “Don’t say it. Please, just—don’t.”

“But it’s the truth!” you cried, your voice breaking. “And you don’t even understand what I’m asking you. I need to know that if it happens again, you’ll—”

“It won’t happen again!” Mingyu snapped, his voice rising. “I won’t let it. Don’t you see that? I’d die before I let anyone hurt you again.”

“But you can’t promise that,” you said softly, your voice carrying the weight of your fear. “You don’t even know what you’re protecting me from.”

Mingyu stared at you, his chest heaving as the reality of your words settled over him. He wanted to argue, to tell you he would protect you no matter what, but the truth was, he didn’t understand. He didn’t know the full extent of what had been done to you, and that ignorance made his promise feel fragile.

*

Mingyu leaned back in his chair after Seungkwan left, his eyes narrowing in thought. The younger man’s words echoed in his mind, but they left a bitter taste.

“Do you know something I don’t, Seungkwan?” Mingyu asked, his voice steady but laced with suspicion.

Seungkwan blinked, his brows furrowing. “What are you referring to, hyung?”

Mingyu shook his head, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

Seungkwan’s lips parted in confusion, but he quickly composed himself. “Hyung, I don’t understand. I always be honest with you."

For the first time, Mingyu felt a crack in the unwavering trust he had in Seungkwan. He had always been his confidant, his right hand, the one person who never failed him. But now… there was doubt.

Mingyu tapped his fingers on the desk, the rhythmic sound punctuating the silence of his office. His instincts told him that something didn’t add up, and for all his reassurances, Seungkwan hadn’t erased that suspicion. If anything, he’d deepened it.

What if Seungkwan knows more than he’s letting on?

The thought was dangerous, but Mingyu couldn’t dismiss it. He’d built his empire on trusting his gut, and right now, his gut was screaming at him to tread carefully.

Picking up his phone, Mingyu scrolled through his contacts and dialed a number—one of his trusted security heads who operated far outside Seungkwan’s circle.

“Hyungnim?” The voice on the other end answered almost immediately.

“I need you to start looking into something,” Mingyu said, his voice low. “Discreetly. No one else can know—not even Seungkwan.”

There was a pause before the man responded. “Understood. What are we looking for?”

Mingyu hesitated, his thoughts racing. He couldn’t put everything into words—not yet. “Just… go over the records. Anything tied to the search we did for Y/n two years ago. Cross-check it. See if there’s anything out of place. And keep me updated directly. No one else.”

“Yes, hyungnim.”

Mingyu ended the call and placed the phone back on the desk. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his mind spiraling.

He hated this feeling—the uncertainty, the doubt. He had always relied on Seungkwan. He wanted to believe him. But he couldn’t afford to take chances anymore. Not when it came to Y/n.

For now, he would keep his suspicions to himself. Seungkwan didn’t need to know what he was doing behind his back. Mingyu told himself it was just precaution. But deep down, a darker thought lingered: What if Seungkwan really did betray me?

Mingyu clenched his fists. He didn’t want to believe it. But he also knew one thing for sure—he would uncover the truth, no matter what it cost.

The file arrived late at night. Mingyu sat in his study, the glow of the desk lamp casting harsh shadows across his face as he opened the folder sent by Myungho. His heartbeat thudded heavily in his chest, each second stretched thin with anticipation.

The first thing he saw was a grainy photo from a CCTV camera. The timestamp read two years ago, the date burned into Mingyu’s mind as the time he lost you. The image showed a familiar figure walking into a high-end restaurant. Mingyu’s stomach dropped when he recognized him—Seungkwan.

Seungkwan wasn’t alone. He was with Seungcheol.

Mingyu’s jaw clenched as he flipped to the next page. More photos followed, showing Seungkwan seated with Seungcheol, their expressions unreadable in the stills. It wasn’t just one meeting. Myungho had compiled several images of them together, spanning weeks.

Then came the texts.

Seungkwan: "I’ve done what you asked. Mingyu won’t find out."

Seungcheol’s associate: "Good. We’ll keep our end of the deal. Make sure everything goes smoothly."

Seungkwan: "I’ll handle it. Just remember what we agreed on."

Mingyu’s hands tightened around the papers, his knuckles white. He read the messages over and over, trying to make sense of them. His mind raced as the pieces of the puzzle started falling into place.

Two years ago, when you disappeared, Mingyu’s business had taken a massive hit. Deals fell through, clients backed out, and his empire wavered for the first time in years. At the same time, Seungcheol’s ventures skyrocketed, almost as if he had insider knowledge of Mingyu’s operations.

And now, Mingyu had proof that Seungkwan, the man he had trusted with his life, had been meeting with Seungcheol during that exact period.

Mingyu leaned back in his chair, his mind spinning.

Was this why Seungkwan claimed he couldn’t find Y/n?

Had he been working with Seungcheol to sabotage me all along?

The thought made Mingyu’s blood boil. He had built everything with his own hands, had fought tooth and nail to protect it—and someone he considered family had betrayed him.

Mingyu closed his eyes, the weight of it all pressing down on him. If Seungkwan had truly betrayed him, then what else had he lied about? Had he been complicit in keeping you away from him?

He couldn’t afford to jump to conclusions—not yet. But the evidence was damning, and the rage in Mingyu’s chest grew hotter with every passing second.

Picking up his phone, he dialed Myungho.

“Hyungnim,” Myungho answered immediately.

“Keep digging,” Mingyu ordered, his voice cold and steady. “I want everything—every detail, every connection between Seungkwan and Seungcheol. I want to know what they did and why.”

“Yes, hyungnim.”

Mingyu ended the call and stared at the file on his desk. His fingers drummed against the wood as he thought.

Seungkwan would come to his office tomorrow as he always did, unaware that Mingyu now saw him in a different light. Mingyu would pretend nothing had changed—he’d play along.

But inside, a storm was brewing. Mingyu had built his empire on loyalty, and if Seungkwan had broken that loyalty, there would be consequences.

His eyes hardened as he whispered to himself, “No one betrays me and gets away with it.”

*

Mingyu drove you both to Jeonghan’s place, the familiar path stirring something nostalgic within you. It had been weeks since you’d last been there, and the moment you stepped inside, you couldn’t stop smiling. Memories flooded back as you reunited with old colleagues, chatting and hugging them like no time had passed. Your laughter echoed through the walls, and for a moment, it felt like you’d returned to a piece of yourself you thought you’d lost.

Jeonghan greeted Mingyu with a firm handshake, his characteristic smirk in place as he led him to his office. The air between the two men was thick, the weight of unspoken things hovering like smoke in the room. Speaking of which, Jeonghan pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering one to Mingyu, who accepted without hesitation. The faint flicker of the lighter cast brief shadows on their faces as they settled into their conversation.

“I figured you’d come to visit sooner or later,” Jeonghan said casually, chuckling as he leaned back in his chair. His laid-back demeanor struck a nerve in Mingyu, who forced himself to remain calm.

Mingyu shook his head slowly, exhaling smoke as he spoke. “She refused to tell me everything.”

Jeonghan nodded knowingly. “Of course. It’s not something easy to talk about. If I were married, I don’t think I’d share the darkest parts of my life with my wife, either.”

Mingyu’s gaze sharpened. “You’re married?”

Jeonghan let out a soft laugh. “Not a chance. There’s no way I’d run a business like this with a wife waiting for me at home.” He paused, taking a sip of his coffee before continuing. “Anyway, I’m guessing you’re here to know how I met your wife. It’s been over a year and a half now.”

Mingyu’s jaw tightened as Jeonghan leaned forward slightly, recalling the past.

“I don’t remember all the details, but we met on a ship to Jeju. She wasn’t in good shape. I kept her hidden in my room for about a week before I managed to fly her back to Seoul. That was tricky—getting her out without exposing her identity took some doing.”

Mingyu’s voice dropped an octave as he asked, “How was she when you found her?"

Jeonghan shook his head, his usual lightness dimming for the first time. “Horrible. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination. It wasn’t just physical, though. The real damage was… mental.”

Mingyu’s fingers tightened around his cigarette, but before he could press further, the door swung open.

You stepped in, arm in arm with one of your old friends—Yumi, your face lit up with excitement. “Can we go to the café on the next block?” you asked Mingyu with a grin, your tone brimming with the carefree energy he’d missed so much.

He softened immediately, his lips curling into a small smile. “Of course, love. Let me know if you need anything.”

As soon as you left, Jeonghan’s chuckle filled the room. “You two really are married. You can see it a mile away.”

Mingyu nodded slightly, taking another drag from his cigarette. “My right hand showed you the documents, didn’t he?”

Jeonghan leaned forward, his interest piqued. “Your right hand… Seungkwan, isn’t it? Something’s off about him.”

Mingyu’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

Jeonghan rubbed his chin, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “I remember him. He’s been here before—long before you ever showed up. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but now…”

Mingyu leaned forward, his tone sharp. “What was he doing here?”

Jeonghan’s chuckle was low and deliberate. “What do you think, man? He works for you like a dog, doesn’t he? Even dogs need their own satisfaction sometimes."

The insinuation hung heavy in the air, Mingyu’s mind racing as the pieces began to connect.

*

For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to believe him.

In the weeks that followed, Mingyu worked tirelessly to show you he was serious about rebuilding your relationship. He opened up more, shared his own fears and regrets, and listened when you finally began to share your trauma. You both sought help—individually and together—and slowly, the walls between you began to crumble.

One evening, as you sat together on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder, Mingyu turned to you with a small smile. “You know, I don’t think I ever told you how much I admire your strength.”

You looked up at him, surprised. “Strength? Mingyu, I’ve been a mess.”

He shook his head. “No. You survived things most people couldn’t even imagine. And despite everything, you’re still here, still fighting. That’s strength, Y/n. And I’m so proud of you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you leaned into him, your arms wrapping around his waist. For the first time, you felt safe in his arms—not just physically, but emotionally.

“I think,” you whispered, “we might actually be okay.”

Mingyu pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his own eyes damp. “We will be. Together.”

The next morning, Mingyu approached you cautiously as you sat by the window, sipping tea. His face was calm, but the slight furrow of his brow gave away the thoughts swirling in his head.

“Y/n,” he began softly, catching your attention, “I’ve been thinking about everything you’ve been through and how I can help. I want to do this right.”

You looked at him, tilting your head slightly. “What do you mean?”

He stepped closer, sitting across from you. “I’ve reached out to someone—a professional. A psychiatrist. I want you to have someone to talk to, someone who can help you process everything.” His voice was steady but tinged with hesitation, as though unsure how you’d react.

Your fingers tightened around your teacup. “A psychiatrist?”

“I know it might feel strange or overwhelming, but you’ve been through so much, Y/n,” he said earnestly. “I’ve seen how you carry everything on your own, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to anymore. I’ll be here for you, always, but I’m not equipped to help you the way a professional can. You deserve this.”

You hesitated, your mind racing. The idea of opening up to a stranger about your darkest moments felt daunting, almost unbearable. Yet, there was something in Mingyu’s eyes—a mixture of concern and unwavering support—that made you consider it.

“You really think it’ll help?” you asked quietly.

“I do,” he said, reaching out to take your hand. “And I’ll be there every step of the way if you want me to be. But this is your choice, Y/n. I won’t force you into anything.”

You looked down at his hand covering yours, warmth spreading through you. For so long, you had felt like you were navigating a storm alone, but now, there was someone willing to anchor you, to guide you toward calmer waters.

“Okay,” you said after a long pause. “I’ll try.”

Mingyu’s relief was palpable, and his lips curved into a gentle smile. “Thank you, Y/n. That’s all I want—for you to feel like yourself again.”

A week later, you found yourself sitting in a cozy office, the walls painted in soothing tones of blue and green. Mingyu had accompanied you, waiting patiently outside the room as you met with Dr. Han, the psychiatrist he had carefully chosen for you.

Dr. Han was warm and approachable, her demeanor instantly putting you at ease. As the sessions progressed, you found it easier to open up, piece by piece, unraveling the tangled web of trauma, fear, and guilt that had weighed on you for so long.

Each time you left the sessions, Mingyu was there, waiting with a reassuring smile. He never pried, never asked what was discussed unless you brought it up first. Instead, he focused on being a steady presence in your life, reminding you in small, thoughtful ways that you weren’t alone.

It happened during one of your sessions with Dr. Han, but this time, Mingyu was allowed to sit in at your request. It wasn’t planned, and you had no intention of talking about everything that had been locked deep inside your heart for so long. But as you sat there, looking at Mingyu’s face, his unwavering support breaking through your walls, you decided it was time.

Your hands trembled as you spoke, your voice cracking under the weight of the words you hadn’t dared to say before. The memories came rushing out—how you were taken that night outside his house, how they had hurt you, broken you, and left you feeling like you’d never be whole again. Every agonizing detail poured out, and Mingyu sat there, silent, his jaw tightening with each word you uttered.

By the time you finished, the room was silent except for your shaky breaths. Mingyu’s hands clenched into fists, the veins in his arms bulging as he fought to contain the storm raging within him.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice low and trembling with barely restrained fury, “they will pay for this. Every single one of them.”

You reached out to touch his hand, trying to calm him. “Mingyu, I—”

“No,” he cut you off, his eyes blazing with a mixture of pain and anger. “No more letting this go. They took you from me. They broke you. I can’t... I won’t let them get away with it.”

Without another word, Mingyu pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Jisoo,” he barked, his tone sharp and commanding, “get everyone to my office. Now. We’re settling this.”

The drive back to his headquarters was tense. Mingyu’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. You sat in silence, unsure of what to say, yet oddly comforted by his determination to make things right.

When you arrived, Jisoo and the rest of Mingyu’s trusted men were already gathered in his office. Mingyu stormed in, his presence commanding as he slammed the door shut behind him.

“I have reason to believe Seungkwan betrayed us,” Mingyu began, his voice cold and steely. Gasps and murmurs filled the room, but Jisoo remained calm, his eyes narrowing as he took in Mingyu’s words.

Mingyu threw a file onto the table, the photos and texts spilling out for everyone to see. “This is proof of his dealings with Seungcheol. He lied to me, he lied to all of us, and he left Y/n out there to suffer while he worked with our rival.”

Jisoo stepped forward, examining the evidence before looking up at Mingyu. “What do you want us to do, hyung?”

Mingyu’s expression darkened, his voice low and menacing. “I want justice. I want every man who was involved to pay for what they did to her. And I want Seungkwan brought to me—alive.”

The room fell silent, the gravity of his words sinking in. Jisoo nodded, his loyalty unwavering. “Consider it done.”

As the men began to file out, preparing to execute Mingyu’s orders, he turned to Jisoo one last time. “This isn’t just about business anymore. This is personal. Make sure they all understand that.”

Jisoo’s lips curled into a grim smile. “Don’t worry, hyung. They’ll understand.”

When the room was empty, Mingyu walked back to you. His expression softened slightly as he knelt in front of you, taking your hands in his.

“Y/n, I swear to you, this ends now. You’ll never have to look over your shoulder again. I’ll protect you, no matter what it takes.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you nodded, his words offering a comfort you hadn’t felt in years. And for the first time, you began to believe that maybe, just maybe, justice was finally within reach.

*

Seungkwan paced his dimly lit apartment, the glow from the city skyline casting jagged shadows across the room. His mind churned with thoughts of his next move, fueled by frustration and ambition. Mingyu’s resurgence had become impossible to ignore. The empire Seungkwan had worked so hard to weaken was rising from the ashes faster than he’d anticipated, and he knew he couldn’t stop it without drastic measures.

He glanced at his desk, where a manila envelope lay open, its contents spread out like pieces of a puzzle. Photographs of you, smiling faintly in the arms of your colleagues, and reports of your whereabouts that spanned the past two years. Seungkwan clenched his fists. He had always known where you were. From the moment you fled, he had kept tabs on you, careful to stay one step ahead of Mingyu.

It wasn’t just about business anymore. It was personal. Mingyu had everything—power, loyalty, love. Seungkwan wanted it all. He wanted to replace Mingyu, to claim the empire he believed should have been his, and he would use every weapon in his arsenal to make it happen.

And you, the one thing that could shatter Mingyu’s focus, were the perfect distraction.

Seungkwan picked up his phone and dialed a number, his fingers steady despite the storm raging inside him. “It’s time,” he said when the call connected. “Make the arrangements. We’re putting her in the frame again.”

The voice on the other end hesitated. “Are you sure about this? Mingyu’s already suspicious of you. If he finds out—”

“He won’t find out,” Seungkwan snapped, his tone sharp and commanding. “Mingyu’s too blinded by his feelings for her to see the bigger picture. He’ll be too busy protecting her to notice what’s happening under his nose.”

The plan was simple but ruthless. Seungkwan would leak just enough information to make it seem like he had miraculously “found” you, ensuring you were brought back into Mingyu’s orbit. He would manipulate events to sow seeds of doubt, making it appear as though you were somehow tied to the setbacks Mingyu had faced in the past.

Seungkwan smirked bitterly, his eyes dark with envy and determination. He had always envied the way Mingyu looked at you, the way he spoke your name as if it were sacred. Seungkwan wanted to strip that away, to prove that love and loyalty were nothing more than weaknesses.

But deep down, he knew his ambitions outstripped his competence. Mingyu’s cunning, his ability to rebuild from the ruins, was something Seungkwan could never match. That thought only fueled his desperation, pushing him further into the abyss of his schemes.

As he hung up the phone, Seungkwan stared at the photograph of you on his desk, his expression a twisted mix of resentment and resolve. “You’ll be the key,” he muttered to himself. “The key to taking everything from him.”

He poured himself a drink and sat back, the weight of his plan settling over him. The lines between personal and professional had long since blurred, and now there was no turning back. If he couldn’t have what Mingyu had built, he would destroy it—and you would be the cornerstone of his revenge.

Seungkwan sat rigid in the sleek leather chair across from Seungcheol, the low hum of the air conditioner the only sound in the room. Seungcheol’s office was cold, both in temperature and atmosphere. It was an embodiment of the man himself—efficient, calculated, and devoid of sentimentality.

Seungcheol tapped a pen against the edge of his desk, his sharp eyes fixed on Seungkwan, studying him like a chess piece he was deciding whether to sacrifice.

“You’ve come to me for protection,” Seungcheol began, his tone measured, almost disinterested. “But you’ve yet to explain why I should bother.”

Seungkwan straightened his back, forcing himself to appear composed despite the storm of nerves raging inside him. “Mingyu is closing in. He’s suspicious of me, and it’s only a matter of time before he acts. I’ve been loyal to you, Cheol—feeding you information, giving you an edge. That has to mean something.”

Seungcheol leaned back in his chair, his gaze unwavering. “Loyalty is a word people like to throw around when they’re desperate. Let’s not pretend this was ever about loyalty, Seungkwan. You came to me because you wanted power. Because you saw an opportunity to rise above your station.”

“That’s not—”

“Spare me,” Seungcheol interrupted, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. “You turned on Mingyu because you thought it would benefit you. Don’t expect me to believe otherwise. And now that your gamble has backfired, you want me to clean up the mess?”

Seungkwan clenched his fists, his face flushing with frustration. “I’ve been an asset to you! Mingyu’s losses, his setbacks—those didn’t happen by coincidence. I made them happen. I gave you the information you needed to cripple him.”

“And what’s stopping me from discarding you now that I have everything I need?” Seungcheol’s voice was calm, almost bored, but there was an edge of menace in his words.

Seungkwan’s jaw tightened. “Because Mingyu isn’t finished. He’s rebuilding, faster and stronger than we anticipated. If you leave me out to dry, you’ll be facing him at full strength, and you know as well as I do that Mingyu doesn’t forgive, and he doesn’t forget.”

Seungcheol smirked, his amusement cold and condescending. “You think I fear Mingyu?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “Let me tell you something, Seungkwan. Mingyu is formidable, yes. But men like him—men driven by love and loyalty—they are predictable. And predictability is a weakness.”

“Then why not use me?” Seungkwan pressed, desperation creeping into his tone. “I know how he thinks. I can help you dismantle him piece by piece.”

Seungcheol’s smirk faded, replaced by an expression of cold indifference. “You overestimate your value, Seungkwan. Mingyu trusted you, and you betrayed him. Do you think I’d trust you any more than he did?”

“I had no choice!” Seungkwan shot back, his voice rising. “Mingyu’s world suffocated me! I gave everything to him, and it was never enough. I deserve more than being his shadow!”

Seungcheol’s gaze hardened. “You don’t deserve anything, Seungkwan. You earn it, or you take it. And from where I’m sitting, you’ve done neither.”

Seungkwan’s breath caught in his throat. He had come here hoping for an ally, for someone to stand between him and Mingyu’s wrath. Instead, he found himself face-to-face with a man who saw him as nothing more than a tool—disposable, replaceable.

“Here’s my advice,” Seungcheol said, rising from his chair and walking around the desk to stand over Seungkwan. “Run. Disappear. Because when Mingyu finds you—and he will find you—I won’t be lifting a finger to save you.”

Seungkwan swallowed hard, the weight of Seungcheol’s words sinking in. “You’ll regret this,” he muttered, rising from his chair.

Seungcheol chuckled, a low, menacing sound. “No, Seungkwan. The only one with regrets here is you.”

Seungkwan stormed out of the office, his mind racing. He had gambled everything, and now he had no allies left. All he had was the knowledge that Mingyu was closing in—and he was out of time.

*

It had been a quiet afternoon when Yumi suggested you go out for a coffee and stroll. The idea of unwinding felt like a breath of fresh air, so you agreed, trusting her as you always did. The two of you wandered through the park, sharing stories and laughing, the kind of lightheartedness you had missed. Yumi seemed more excited than usual, her energy contagious as she led you toward a quieter street.

"There's a new cafe around the corner," she said, smiling warmly. "You’ll love it. It’s got this cozy vibe, perfect for catching up."

You followed her, glancing at your phone to let Mingyu know where you were. Before you could hit send, Yumi suddenly slowed her steps, her demeanor shifting subtly.

"Everything okay?" you asked, sensing something off.

Before she could respond, you felt a cold hand on your arm. Turning around, your heart dropped as Seungkwan appeared, his expression a mixture of triumph and menace. He didn’t come alone—two of his men flanked him, blocking any chance of escape.

"Hello, Y/n," Seungkwan greeted, his tone deceptively calm. "Nice day for a walk, isn’t it?"

You instinctively stepped back, but Yumi’s hand on your wrist stopped you. That’s when it hit you—this wasn’t a coincidence.

"Yumi?" you whispered, disbelief washing over you as you looked at her.

She avoided your gaze, her smile now tinged with guilt. "I’m sorry," she murmured. "I didn’t have a choice."

Seungkwan chuckled, stepping closer. "Don’t blame her too much. She’s been very helpful, feeding me all sorts of useful information." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. "Including where to find you."

Your heart raced as his men closed in, grabbing you despite your struggle. You shouted, hoping someone nearby might hear, but it was a quiet street, and no help came.

"Don’t make this harder than it has to be," Seungkwan warned, pulling a gun from his coat and pressing it to your side. The cold metal against your skin sent a chill down your spine. "We’re going for a little ride."

"Why are you doing this?" you demanded, your voice shaking as you glared at him.

Seungkwan smiled, the kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "To teach Mingyu a lesson. And you, my dear, are the perfect way to do it."

The car ride was suffocating. Seungkwan didn’t say much, his men watching you like hawks. Yumi sat quietly in the front seat, her silence louder than any apology she could offer. You wanted to scream, to cry, but you forced yourself to stay calm. Panicking wouldn’t help you now.

When the car stopped, you were dragged into a building you immediately recognized: Mingyu’s office. Your heart pounded as you realized what Seungkwan was planning. He was using you to get to Mingyu, and there was no way this would end peacefully.

As you were forced through the hallways, Mingyu’s men appeared, their eyes widening in shock. They tried to intervene, but the gun pressed against your head kept them at bay.

"Stand down!" Seungkwan barked, dragging you further inside. "Unless you want her blood on your hands."

The silence in Mingyu's office was suffocating as the door burst open, Seungkwan stepping in with you held tightly in his grasp, a gun pressed against your temple. Mingyu stood frozen for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours. He could see the fear you tried to hide, your trembling hands clinging to the fabric of your coat. His fury was palpable, but he didn’t let it show—his calm facade was a mask, concealing the storm brewing inside him.

Seungkwan's smirk was mocking as he pushed you further into the room. "Surprised, hyung? Or maybe not. I’m sure you’ve already figured it out. You’re smart, after all."

Mingyu’s voice was low, dangerous, as he took a step forward. "Let her go, Seungkwan."

"Ah, ah, ah," Seungkwan chided, the gun digging into your temple as you flinched. "One more step, and I’ll splatter her brains all over this room. You wouldn’t want that, would you?"

Mingyu froze, his jaw tightening. His hands raised slightly in a gesture of surrender. "You don’t have to do this. Let her go, and we’ll talk. Just you and me."

Seungkwan’s laugh was bitter, almost maniacal. "Talk? Now you want to talk? After everything? After you’ve had everything handed to you while I’ve had to scrape and crawl for scraps?"

"You think this is about me?" Mingyu shot back, his voice rising slightly. "You think hurting her will fix what’s broken inside you?"

Seungkwan’s grip on you tightened as he sneered. "This isn’t just about you. It’s about everything you’ve taken from me. The respect, the loyalty, the power—and now, even her. You’ve built your empire on my back, and I’m taking it all back, piece by piece."

You tried to steady your breathing, your voice barely above a whisper. "Seungkwan, please. You don’t have to do this. This won’t end the way you want it to."

Seungkwan ignored you, his eyes locked on Mingyu. "Tell your men to stand down, hyung. I’m walking out of here, and she’s coming with me."

Mingyu’s fists clenched at his sides, but he kept his voice even. "Alright. I’ll call them off. Just don’t hurt her." He pulled out his phone, dialing Jisoo. "Tell everyone to stand down. No one makes a move until I say so."

Satisfied, Seungkwan smirked. "Good. Now, let’s settle this like men. But first..." His eyes darkened as he looked at you. "Let’s make him watch you suffer a little."

Mingyu’s body tensed, his eyes narrowing as he took a careful step forward. "Seungkwan, if you hurt her, there’s no coming back from this. Whatever you think you’re proving, it won’t matter. You’ll have nothing left."

Seungkwan hesitated for a moment, his grip on you faltering just slightly. You felt it—the tiniest crack in his resolve—and you acted on instinct. Twisting your body, you broke free from his hold, stumbling forward just as Mingyu lunged toward him.

The gun went off, the deafening sound echoing through the room. Your scream filled the air as Mingyu wrestled the weapon out of Seungkwan’s hand, pinning him to the floor with a force that rattled the furniture. Blood trickled from a graze on Mingyu’s arm, but he didn’t seem to notice as he pressed his forearm against Seungkwan’s throat.

Seungkwan choked under the weight of Mingyu's arm, his face contorted in pain and anger as he struggled against the grip. Mingyu's eyes burned with fury, a darkness you had never seen before.

"You had the nerve to put her in harm's way?" Mingyu growled, his voice low and dangerous. "After everything I did for you?"

Seungkwan coughed, clawing at Mingyu’s arm. "You don’t get it, do you?" he spat, his voice strained. "You think you’re untouchable. But everything you have should’ve been mine!"

"You betrayed me!" Mingyu roared, tightening his grip. "You betrayed us all! For what? To chase a delusion of power you could never handle?"

You stood frozen near the corner of the room, trembling as the events unfolded. The gunshot was still ringing in your ears, and all you could focus on was the thin line of blood running down Mingyu’s arm. He had risked himself for you.

One of Mingyu’s men burst into the room, his weapon drawn. "Hyungnim!" he called, his gaze darting between Mingyu and Seungkwan.

"Stay back," Mingyu ordered, his voice cold. His attention returned to Seungkwan, whose resistance was weakening. "Tell me, Seungkwan," Mingyu said, his voice quieter but no less menacing. "Was it worth it? Selling out everything we built for a shot in the dark?"

Seungkwan coughed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "You’ll never understand," he rasped. "I’m not like you, Mingyu. I’ll never be like you. And I couldn’t stand living in your shadow anymore."

Mingyu’s jaw clenched as he stared down at the man who had once been his most trusted ally. For a moment, it looked like Mingyu might not let him go. But then his eyes flicked to you, and he saw the fear written all over your face. Slowly, he eased the pressure on Seungkwan’s throat, standing and motioning for his men to take him.

"Get him out of my sight," Mingyu said coldly. "I’ll deal with him later."

Two of his men dragged Seungkwan out of the office, his protests fading into the distance. The moment the door closed, Mingyu turned to you, his expression softening as he crossed the room in a few long strides.

"Y/n," he said gently, reaching out to touch your arm. "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head, but tears spilled down your cheeks as the adrenaline crashed over you. "Mingyu, you’re bleeding," you whispered, your voice trembling.

"It’s nothing," he replied, brushing it off as he cupped your face with his uninjured hand. "You’re what matters. Are you okay?"

You nodded, though your body was still shaking. "I thought—I thought I was going to lose you," you admitted, your voice breaking.

Mingyu pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if to reassure you that he was still there. "You’ll never lose me," he murmured against your hair. "Not now, not ever. I promise."

As he held you, the weight of what had just happened hung heavy in the air. Mingyu had always been a protector, but this was different. He had faced betrayal, risked everything, and still put your safety above all else.

And in that moment, you realized just how far Mingyu would go to keep you safe.

*

Jeonghan’s wedding was a grand affair, held at an outdoor venue surrounded by lush gardens and glowing fairy lights. The evening air was filled with the hum of laughter and soft music, the perfect backdrop for a celebration of love. You stood beside Mingyu, your hand resting on his arm as the two of you watched Jeonghan and his bride share their first dance under the canopy of stars.

Mingyu glanced at you, his gaze lingering on your glowing expression. "You’re smiling like it’s your wedding," he teased softly, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You laughed, nudging him lightly. "Maybe because I know how it feels to have my own dream come true," you said, your free hand gently brushing over your small baby bump.

Mingyu’s eyes softened, his fingers tightening around yours as he looked down at your stomach. “Every time I see you like this, it feels surreal. Like we’ve finally made it.”

His words made your heart swell. The two of you had been through so much—heartbreak, betrayal, and pain. Yet here you were, not just surviving but thriving. You leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder as the music swayed around you.

“I wouldn’t trade this for anything,” you murmured.

Before Mingyu could reply, Jeonghan appeared in front of you, grinning wide as he stretched out his arms. “Y/n, Mingyu! Aren’t you two going to come congratulate me properly? I didn’t just invite you to stand there being all lovey-dovey.”

You laughed and stepped forward to hug Jeonghan. “Congratulations, Jeonghan. It’s a beautiful wedding.”

Jeonghan returned the hug, then turned to Mingyu, who gave him a firm handshake. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time,” Mingyu said with a chuckle.

Jeonghan smirked. “What can I say? I don’t settle for less.” Then, his gaze fell to your belly, and his expression softened. “And you two are about to outdo me in the family department. When’s the baby due?”

“In about three months,” you said, smiling warmly.

Jeonghan gave a low whistle. “Wow. It’s hard to believe you two are already at this stage. Seems like just yesterday Mingyu couldn’t figure out how to smile in a photo.”

Mingyu rolled his eyes. “Don’t start embarrassing me at your own wedding.”

Jeonghan laughed, patting him on the shoulder. “Fine, fine. But seriously, I’m happy for you both. You deserve this happiness after everything.”

As Jeonghan left to mingle with other guests, Mingyu turned back to you, his hand instinctively finding its place on your belly. His thumb brushed against the fabric of your dress, and his eyes were full of love as he looked at you.

“I still can’t believe it sometimes,” he admitted softly. “That you’re here, with me, and we’re going to be parents soon. It feels like a dream I don’t want to wake up from.”

You smiled, placing your hand over his. “It’s real, Mingyu. And we’re going to make the most of it.”

Later in the evening, as the two of you sat at your table watching the festivities, Mingyu leaned over and whispered, “I’ve been thinking… Once the baby’s here, we should move out of the city. Somewhere quieter, where we can focus on our family.”

You turned to him, surprised but touched. “Really? What about your business?”

Mingyu smiled. “I left it in Jisoo’s hands. He’s more than capable. I don’t want to be tied to that life anymore. I want to be with you and our child, making a life that’s ours, free from all of that.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you leaned in to kiss him gently. “I love you, Mingyu.”

“And I love you,” he replied, his hand once again finding its place on your belly.

The night ended with you and Mingyu dancing under the stars, the world around you fading into the background. Jeonghan’s wedding wasn’t just a celebration of his love but also a reminder of how far you and Mingyu had come—a testament to your strength, resilience, and love.

As the two of you swayed to the music, Mingyu pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “This is only the beginning for us, Y/n. I promise, our best days are still ahead.”

And as you leaned into him, your heart full of hope and love, you believed him.

End.

[redwinelew]

SAVE YOUR TEARS

type written fic (no part 2 request pls)

pairing lewis hamilton x driver!reader

summary you need a distraction and your teammate is the perfect person for that

word count 3.7k

warnings 18+. smut. nsfw. porn with oh so little plot and even little feelings. unprotected sex. rough sex. emotional sex. prone bone then missionary (idk i tried), praise kink. hints of depression, self doubts etc etc idk lmk what i missed. english is not my first language.

author's note self-indulgent if u couldn't tell from the warnings. that's it. sorry.

masterlist

lewis didn't expect you to turn up in front of his hotel room tonight night, face wet with tears staining your cheeks, lips trembling as you held back a sob.

nor was he expecting you to ever utter these words to him.

"i need you to fuck me."

lewis' lips parted, unable to get any words out, too shocked by your sudden request. he has a million different questions appearing in his brain all at once. what the hell is happening? why are you crying? who did this to you? and why on god's green earth did you just ask him to— he couldn't even repeat it to himself. it didn't feel real, didn't even sound like you were asking. pleading, more like it, in pure desperation.

he calls your name softly, like he's trying to wake you up from a dream. his thick eyebrows tie together in confusion. "what are you—"

"please...." you cut him off, the last syllable getting more inaudible as it trails away. tears beginning to fill up your eyes again before they drop, reaching your jaw and fall to the floor.

lewis has never seen you like this, and he's pretty sure nobody else on the grid or the public did either. his teammate whom in his eyes, the one who always got her shit together. he's almost jealous at how composed you always presented yourself to be, on and off track, never letting any unwanted criticisms by fans or media from getting to you, always quick to shut them down cleverly. the last person anybody could ever take down, mentally.

then he realized, that he held you to such a high standard to the point where he had forgotten that you were still just a human. it's only a matter of time before you break and if lewis personally had his moments where he was at his lowest, he couldn't imagine being in your shoes right now.

everything immediately clicked for lewis right there and then. he had never invited a girl inside so fast, never undressed her so quickly.

"what's your safe word?" he asks, needing to know before he proceeds.

"pancake."

lewis nods. he was about to crash his lips against yours when you put your hand on his clothed chest to stop him firmly, almost clenching your hand on his shirt, head turn away slightly.

"no," you refused.

kissing means this would get personal. complicated. and you do not want complications in the future. this is not going to be a love-making session. this is going to be lewis fucking you hard until your eyes roll back and your vision turns white. until the thickness of his cock makes your hollow soul lights up again. until you feel alive from his hand around your throat.

nothing else.

and that's exactly what he's doing right now. no kissing. he immediately understood it from the minute you refused his lips, getting what this is going to be.

lewis' tattooed hand fists on your shirt hard as he avoids your lips and kisses your neck instead, finding those spots that make your knees buckle and focuses particularly on there. you remove his hair tie, and tangle your fingers with his braids. he groans, his hair a particular sensitive part on his body. his thick lips travel lower to lay kisses along your collarbone. no marks either, he doesn't need to be told that.

though for some reason he does not understand, it is suddenly quite hard to resist himself from leaving purple bites on your skin. not when he had someone like you in his arms whom he had found beautiful since the first time his eyes laid in you.

no, lewis tells himself silently. this is not about you. this is about her. she's struggling. there's a demon that she needs to defeat and she needs your help. so help her.

you find yourself walking in reverse as he advances towards you, before your back hits the soft mattress of his hotel bed.

"yes." you say, already breathless, letting him know this is exactly how you want it. no tip-toeing, no hesitation or being overly careful, because you trust him enough to know that he knows what he should and shouldn't do, or you wouldn't have knocked in his door. you might be mentally fragile, but not your body. you need him to get to work quickly, to get you out of the mess that is currently your mind right now. he doesn't need to be gentle, because all you desire is the exact opposite.

lewis does not respond. instead he takes off your shirt and bra, throwing them somewhere on his floor without caring where they land. you do the same with his. lewis climbs over you, leaving neither of you time to admire one another's half naked bodies. nothing to gawk over. this is not what you came here for and lewis was quick to understand that.

his lips were fast to attack your bare chest next. his tongue swirls over your nipple, coating it with his spit before sucking hard, creating sounds as lewd as your moans right now. he also groans silently, the vibration sending more waves of pleasure inside you. he lets you gather his braids to press his face harder on your breast while one of his hands went to grope on the other, flicking your already sensitive nipple before giving it the same attention with his tongue. your back arches, and you find yourself pressing both your thighs together, desperate for relief on your lower half.

he senses it and leaves your chest. he pulls down your pants next, then your panties. you catch the way he visibly swallows at the sight of your dripping pussy, his own cock starting to throb in need.

"tell me what you need," he asks breathlessly, his voice huskier than usual, making your walls clench around nothing.

"your fingers." you answer without hesitation. the rational part of your brain manages to slip through, making you wonder for a split second just what made you so bold tonight, demanding all sort of things you never even had the courage to ask anybody.

maybe it's demons in your head, the one you are desperate to get rid off so you are forcing yourself to do the absolute craziest, just to feel like your old self again.

lewis nods. part of him is still in disbelief over what is currently happening but he tries to leave it at the back of his head. you let him spread your legs with ease and he doesn't waste any time to slide his digit smoothly over your fold to gather your arousal, earning a sharp gasp from you. he spits on your cunt, his saliva mixes with your wetness before he pushes.

still he was careful, only using one finger for now. he's well aware of the thickness of his digits and not sure how much you can take if he immediately adds more.

"m-more." you're whimpering already and the sound goes straight to lewis' dick, forcing him to take a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to calm his twitching cock.

but it's difficult. this is lewis hamilton, seven times formula 1 world champion. the greatest of all time. admire by billions. and yet when he has a pretty girl like you underneath him, at his mercy, your beautiful cunt clenching hard around his fingers, suddenly lewis is just a normal man. one who is not sure how much longer he can hold himself from claiming you all for himself.

lewis takes a deep breath. this is not about you, he tells himself again. you need to listen to her. give her what she needs. you can get any girl to come to your hotel room for fucking, and yet she only has you, the only man she clearly feels safe enough to ask of this.

"faster." you ask and lewis starts to deliver, pushing your legs apart even further before his hand picking up its pace, until the only sounds in the room are your ragged moans and the slickness of your cunt.

you are gorgeous. absolutely breathtaking, lewis thinks to himself. the way your face is flushed, sweat staining all over your face and neck. how your figure, hypnotizing as if it was blessed by aphrodite herself writhe underneath him, chasing that high. sinful moans and whimpers from your lips, enchanting his ears, making him curl his fingers until they find that one spot inside that makes you only whine louder, addicted into finding even more ways to earn those sounds from you. your legs part even wider as if not getting enough, silently begging for more than just his fingers.

"fuck...." lewis cannot help but groan. he sees the way your breath is getting shorter, more ragged. following his own impulses, lewis stops, withdrawing his hand from you.

you whine shamelessly at the sudden emptiness. you look up, watching lewis licking your arousal clean from his lips. the sight should be dirty, should make your pussy pulses in lust but instead your brain is protesting, head thrown back on the mattress in frustration. no, no, no, no, the brain says. you were far from reaching your peak since lewis had just started fingering you but you were at bliss at how preoccupied your mind was, having no room to think about anyting but his fingers inside you.

the insecurities starting to come back. the demon has gone back to work, playing in your ears and whispering doubts into you again.

maybe lewis is regretting this. he thinks you're sick in the head and he wants you to leave. he's going to tell the team—

"you're gonna come on my cock only."

oh—

oh.

you don't have time to be dumbfounded when lewis gets off the bed to remove his pants, eyes stay on yours. a hiss leaves his lips as he wraps his hand around himself, pumping his rock hard cock that already leaks with pre-cum while keeping his lustful gaze on you the entire time before he gets back to the bed to you.

your mouth almost waters at the visual. yes, you came to his hotel room, crying, begging him to fuck you. and yet it's unbelievable to see lewis like this. the champion, feared by the rest of the grid, respected by the whole wide world, is currently hard and throbbing in front of you. for you.

your cunt is wet again, pulsing around air thinking about just how he'd fit himself inside you but before you could do anything, he flips you flat onto your stomach. you yelp, caught off-guard by his sudden action. the mattress dips as his knees sink into it on either side of your body. he grabs his pillow before shoving it under your belly.

condom is on and when you feel his tip pressing against your entrance, you gasp silently, already gripping the sheets.

"we can stop if you want." he says, lowering his voice down to a softer tone, giving you a way out. he's willing to ignore the way his dick twitches, begging to be taken care of, if you desire to stop. but instead....

"n-no." you shake your head fast, voice shaky but with a hint of firmness behind it. "no, i don't want to stop. please."

"what do you need then? tell me exactly."

"i don't want to think. please, just— use me. i don't care. don't be gentle. i want it hard. i need it rough."

part of lewis regrets that he asked because holy fucking shit. sweet baby jesus. he doesn't recognize the sound that he makes, deep from his chest, filled with lust after hearing your dirty, desperate request.

on one hand, he's more than happy to fulfill your desire, knowing this is just going to be sex and nothing more. it's easier for the both of you in the future, knowing that this is a one time thing and absolutely no feelings would be involved.

but on the other hand, though lewis presents himself to the public and media as the calm and collected person you'd see on TV, but like every other man, he has his own wants and needs as well. and you have absolutely fucking idea what the hell you had just woken up inside him.

"fuck. fuck, you can't just fucking say that. you're fucking killing me, baby girl."

you moan at the nickname, then the volume becomes louder when you feel him pushing himself inside you slowly, one palm on a side of your head while the other is gripping your hip so fucking hard no doubt it'll bruised tomorrow.

you want it to bruise. and you know what you just asked of him. it's nothing like you had ever asked of a man before. to take you like a ragdoll for him to be used, to be toyed with whenever his please. to use you like you exist only and solely for his pleasure. because the thoughts that you are having about yourself are way worse. you want it to bruise, to hurt. you want to still be able to feel him for days. to have difficulties to walk so you will always be reminded of tonight. because at least your mind will be distracted from wandering to places you have been working so hard to avoid again.

lewis slides in easily but the stretch burns. you whine, fingers gripping the bedsheet tightly as you try to breathe properly in order to relax yourself so you can accommodate to his size, which is bigger than anyone you had ever taken. what he lacks in height, he certainly makes up for it in his length.

when he's fully inside, lewis gathers your hair before yanking it hard, making your neck arches back and you cry out. the pain in your scalp is weirdly delicious, combines with how he's making you feel so full having his dick deep inside, unmoving.

"say thank you." lewis demands, his tone no longer kind amd gentle like before, goosebumps prickle all over your skin. you never heard him using that kind of tone during work, never even imagine that he'd be the type to sound like that in bed. "thank me for fucking you."

"t-thank you."

"louder." he bottoms out before slamming into you hard, pulling a loud gasp from you.

"thank you!" you choke out.

lewis starts out slow at first, looking for the right pace. he remembers how you want it but he's not going to give it right away, out of care and of course pettiness.

but as he continues, he couldn't help but craving to hear more of those sweet bits of noises that you keep making. to hear the way your breath hitches at how he's filling you up to the brim, at how good he's fucking you.

lewis lowers his body, caging your body from behind but still careful not to crush you completely with his weight as his pace increases, ramming his cock inside you, his restraint getting thinner.

"take it. you want me to fuck you so bad? fucking take it. you asked for this." he grunts, and you whimper with no shame left in you. it's difficult to care, not when you could feel yourself getting dumber on his dick, which is exactly what you were asking for. and all this couldn't be more perfect.

lewis' movements grow harder, rougher by the minute. your moans mixed with his and the sound of his hips snapping against your ass echoes to the entire room. you wish you could be quiet, knowing that this whole hotel is rented by your entire team. but the way lewis is fucking you is making you do the exact opposite. you know he wouldn't want you to be quiet either, the mechanics be damned.

it's starting to be too much. nails digging into the bedsheet, you find your body inching forward. you are not sure if you are trying to run away or get closer to him but when lewis notices this, he grabs both your wrists, pinning them above your head. his teeth nibbles against a specific spot under your earlobe, pulling another whine out of you.

"you can take it. fuck— good girls take what they asked for. you can do it."

your cunt somehow gets even wetter with his filthy words, at how his accent thickens, voice gets deeper and more hoarse. your pussy shouldn't be squeezing around his dick at his praises, but it did. and the grunts he lets out making it all worth it.

when he hits that sweet spot inside you that no other man has ever quite managed to find, your eyes roll back in ecstasy. you gasp, tears starting to fall again at the sweet pleasure you're experiencing.

the sex is perfect, you know lewis wouldn't disappoint. but your demon is back, suddenly haunting you and making you feel terrible about yourself again.

"what the hell do you think you're doing? oh, that's right. you wasn't. you aren't. you're just a dumb bitch making herself even dumber on this pathetic cock. if only you could see yourself. absolutely shameless. what a whore. begging for this man to fuck you like you never seen a dick before. nothing will ever be the same ever again. he will never look you in the eyes, he'll think of you differently. why didn't you just—"

lewis suddenly stops.

the voices do too, and you are left in confusion. his grip on your wrist is gone now and you didn't even notice. you turn your head, only to see him pulling out.

no. oh, no. no, no, no. the voices were right. he's pulling away. he's regretting this. he's gonna ask you to leave, isn't he?

"can i turn you on your back?" he asks instead.

silence from you for a few seconds before you let out a quiet "what?" before lying on your back on your own. you remove the pillow from under your belly and set it aside.

"you were crying." he points out, brows furrowing as a shadow of concern illuminating his handsome face.

you swallow. you were hoping he wouldn't notice and even if he did, he'd thought that it was because you were enjoying yourself this. the fact that he knows it was the opposite tells you that he knows there are million different things running in your mind right now and you hate it.

"y-yeah but it wasn't— not because of you."

pause. "you want me to slow down?"

again, you shake your head fast.

"i'm okay. please." you hate how quickly you beg for him again.

it's lewis' turn to swallow, his eyes darken slightly at your pleading. he nods before crawling back to you, determined to pick up where he left off, trusting that you will know what to say if you truly desire for him to stop completely.

he grabs one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist before bringing the other to his shoulder. you bite your lip at the way his gaze never wavers from you, making you wonder if he fucks every other girls like this.

no. fuck. stop it. why do you even care?

lewis takes his dick before burying himself inside you once more slightly easier this time. you can't help but moan and thanking him again.

he is slow again at first but it isn't long before his cock slams back at the perfect pace, the sound of skin against skin once again filling up this suite. your whimper mixed with his hisses when you claw on his tattooed back, pulling him closer.

lewis leaves kisses all over your leg, wherever he could reach before his hand sneaks up to fiddle and squeeze your bouncing tits.

you didn't expect him to wipe your tears next.

your eyes locked with his. he continues fucking you but it feels as if time has stopped. he has that look behind the lust that screams sympathy. pity. you hate it but at the same you don't push his hand away, letting him cup your face momentarily. but even lewis doesn't let this gesture happens for too long, always remembering the point of having you underneath him.

it doesn't take long until you feel an invisible knot in your lower belly. you're panting now, almost reaching your peak. lewis realizes this and he fucks you harder, his hand travels down to rub your clit.

"i'm—"

"i know, sweetie," he says, breathless as well. he lowers his body, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and kissing it all over as he feels his own orgasm nearing. "come for me."

a few more thrusts, and you see white. your mouth is agape as you moan silently. his grunt and groans is music to your ears as he spills himself inside the condom.

silence.

lewis never realized how much he needed this as well. not just the sex, but the connection, which he knows is insane to find with someone like you in circumstances like this but what just happened felt different. to be so close with someone he actually knows and not just another girl he calls to his room, not even bother to learn her name.

before he could gather his breath, he feels your body underneath him slipping out. his eyes feels heavy but he tries to hold on, watching you collecting your clothes and dressing back up.

"what are you—"

"that was really great. thank you." was all you said before you left, in a hurry like you refuse to spend another minute in the same room with lewis.

while the man is still on the bed, naked. he hasn't even removed his condom yet. a sigh escapes his lips, lying flat on the bed before staring at the white ceiling.

he did what you asked for, and he could only hope that you would feel better tomorrow morning.

and yet why does his heart suddenly aches, not having you in his arms anymore?

[saturnbellfromhell]

Roasting your Moon Sign

Welcome back everyone to a little silly goofy post. I haven't been on the app for a long time because of my school, work and internship, but now I can proudly say I've finished a big chapter in my life and can't wait to be back writing, posting, chatting! Hope you all enjoy this easy-going post and don't take it to heart, it's just a fun time, not a serious time.

〰️ If you're easily offended by jokes and giggles don't read this post, most of my friends, family and people I know are some if these signs, so don't take it so far. In the end I will ne roasting myself as well. :)

➰️ARIES MOON

Why so explosive all the time? I know your emotions run wild, but being so dramatic won't get you anywhere. Take a nap sometimes will ya. No nobody thinks you're annoying all the time, just sometimes. We still love our divas.

➰️ TAURUS MOON

Sleeping again? Shopping again? Fighting over food with your significant other, aren't you? No, you can't get that puppy, you're too lazy to take care if it. Also, we get it, you love art and have the best taste in movies. You do have a nice decorated house, I'll give you that.

➰️GEMINI MOON

Yes, you're so different. Yes, we are all boring in your eyes. No, it's not cute to have an avoidant attachment style. Yes, your shoes are amazing, no, I wouldn't wanna go shopping with you. Why are you constantly buying new apps on your phone? Did you forget about your old friends again because you found a new group of people?

➰️ CANCER MOON

The moody bitch you are, always complaing about how stressed they are even though they cried 2 years ago. Do you always wake up and remember what food you didn't eat in a long time? I know for a fact you would be mad if I showed up at your house without an invitation. Do you also hate traveling because you're too scared to leave the safe place of your house or because you hate leaving your house?

➰️LEO MOON

We get it, you're always right. Yes you are loud yes you are annoying at times, but lovable aswell. Does everybody need to know your bf/gf treats you like a princess? Stop buying so much gold jewerly! You're moving in with a celebrity?

➰️ VIRGO MOON

So how was your day? No,no not work, not the new cleaning appliance you bought, how was your day? O the Turkish eggs at brunch were too cold when served and your dermatitis came back? And you deleted your "sad girl playlist? Damn that's harsh, but your eyeliner is still phenomenal, hope you have a good week even though I know you haven't had a normal week in a long time queen.

➰️LIBRA MOON

No I can't remember all your situationships, boy toys and playboys and wasn't Mark your ex in fucking elementary school, how'd you find him again? I know you're into pilates, you told me that 5 times already. No I don't want to get botox after 2 shots of tequila. Tramp stamp tattoos are cute, sure.

➰️SCORPIO MOON

Ok...yes your ex was a whore and that ex best friend really did lie to you. No don't get in your car and crash it into their house and than set it on fire and watch the flames feather out. Stop looking at me with those serial killer eyes! No, we will not stalk your boss because you think she's having an affair. Yes your knife collection is hot.

➰️ SAGGITARIUS MOON

We get it...you love porn. Yes we get it, you're so loose and easy going and so open and so talkative. No, blondy at the bar is not staring at you, she literally is sitting with her husband...You're moving to Malta? And you got a job in Thailand? And you're 2nd wedding is on the coast of rural Australia??

➰️ CAPRICORN MOON

Is your favorite movie still American Pyscho? O really, you still have the same routine as him, interesting. We get it, yes, you're an introvert. Yes people are gross, yes your cat is amazing. You got into Harvard Law?? On a random Tuesday and you got your Masters? Still fighting with your dad eh...yea, he's a cunt.

➰️AQUARIUS MOON

Can you stop being in your head for 10 minutes damn. And also can you stop talking about your feelings and just start you know...feeling them? Still trying to figure out why society is weird and you feel left out? You spent all your money on your library cards, are you serious..

➰️PISCES MOON

You broke up with your dismissive,back stabbing, crazy ex again? That's the 10th time this month. No, you don't love her, she's literally using you. No, we are not doing MDMA at a carnival to forget everything. Where have you been, why were you taking a walk for 5 hours?

That's all for now, hope you giggled a little. Love all my signs at the end of the day, we are all a little too much at times. Can you guess which I am...😅

[maddie0101]

chapter one: unspoken feelings

summary: reader worries for Dean, who seems distracted. After a rough ride, Dean eventually caves and tells the reader what’s been on his mind.

warnings: minor injury, worried reader, bull riding, cowboy!dean, idiots in love, soulmate tattoo introduced.

word count: 2.3k

series masterlist next chapter

The air at the rodeo grounds was thick with dust, sweat, and the unmistakable scent of leather. The stands were packed and the energy of the crowd was humming. The announcer’s voice crackled through the speakers, barely audible over the cheers and chatter of the locals who had come to witness the rodeo. Tonight was going to be a good night you thought, but something in your gut caused your hands to tighten around Whiskey's reigns.

It wasn't that you were nervous about your event, you knew you'd do great, but it was Dean who worried you. He'd been acting weird lately. Everytime you'd talk to him, he seemed to be lost in thought. Sure he was still your cocky, sarcastic, and kind best friend, but his mind seemed occupied and his shoulders seemed too tense.

As you cast a glance toward the chutes, where Dean stood among the other riders, his expression was unreadable beneath the brim of his well-worn Stetson hat. Your gaze drifted over his side profile, taking in the strong lines of his jaw, defined and angular. His lips, plump and kissable and freckles sprinkled across his cheeks and nose that you couldn't see but knew they were there.

You'd known Dean since you were kids. You'd immediately clicked when little you threw a punch at a kid when he tried to make fun of Dean.

Dean was instantly impressed that a small girl with pigtails defended him. He'd honestly been taken aback. At first glance you'd looked so cute and innocent but after seeing that, Dean knew he had to keep you around. But as it turned out, he lived on the ranch right next to yours.

The two of you were inseparable. Growing up, you'd do everything together. You eventually met Dean's parents.

Mary was like a mother to you. You always looked up to her, considering your mother had passed before you could ever build a relationship with her. John who was kind of like a second dad to you. He was always kind to you but something about the way he'd teach his boys sat with you wrong. And lastly Sammy, Dean's younger brother. Sam was always someone you would talk to when Dean was gone or exchange thoughts on a book you'd read. Dean would always say that the two of you were nerds for reading but you'd only flip him off and ignore his teasing.

They became family to you, but there was something you’d fought for the longest time.

You were deeply in love with your best friend, and that was a problem.

You'd never meant to fall face first, no way to catch yourself from falling. It hit you one day like a ton of bricks. Sure, you'd always thought that Dean was attractive but one day while he was flirting with one of the many girls that caught his attention at a rodeo, your feelings quickly became clear.

You had feelings for him, but the more you thought about it and him, the more you realized that you didn't just have feelings for him; you were in love with him.

You were quickly reminded of the present when your favorite pair of green eyes locked onto yours. Dean shot you a nervous smile, only people who would know him well enough could detect. You could tell something was off, but you couldn't pinpoint what.

Weaving your way through the crowd of cowboys and stock handlers, you ignored a few of the bull riders looking you up and down, not noticing how Dean's jaw ticked. Dodging flailing ropes and the occasional stomp of restless hooves, you finally reached Dean as he was rolling out his shoulders.

“Hey, cowboy.” You nudged his boot with the toe of yours. “You ready for this?”

Dean’s lips curved into a slow, lazy grin—one that you knew all too well. “Always, sweetheart. But I think the real question is, are you ready? You sure you won’t eat dirt on that first barrel?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Please. Whiskey and I have this down to a science. You, on the other hand, are about to strap yourself to a ticking time bomb. Maybe I should be the one questioning your life choices.”

His grin widened, but there was something else in his eyes—something unreadable, making your stomach twist. Something was up but you shoved the feeling down.

“Be smart out there, Dean.” your voice dropped slightly, no longer teasing. “Eight seconds. That’s all you need.”

Dean exhaled through his nose, nodding. “Eight seconds,” he echoed. But his gaze lingered on you, as if there was something more he wanted to say.

The chute gate clanged open, and Dean’s name was called over the speakers causing the two of you to back away from each other.

"Good luck, De." You sent him a soft smile before you stepped back, watching nervously as he settled onto the massive bull. His gloved hand gripped the rope and as Dean took in a deep breath, he glanced over to you, shooting you a smile.

The animal beneath him was already twitching, muscles bunching like a coiled spring ready to explode.

You waited nervously by the other cowboys as the clinking of the bull hitting the metal gates sounded through the arena.

You didn't hate that Dean was a bull rider per say. You just didn't want to see him hurt, or worse. It was an extremely dangerous sport but once Dean got on a bull for the first time, you knew he was hooked. He was an adrenaline junky after all.

Suddenly, the gate swings open, catching you off guard, and all hell brakes loose. Dean shoots out of the chute, his body moving in perfect sync with the bull’s violent twists and lunges. The crowd roars but you can barely breathe.

Six seconds.

Seven.

Suddenly, the bull lunges with a fierce, violent twist, and Dean's grasp slips free. He slams into the ground with a painful impact, his body tumbling and rolling, narrowly escaping the thunderous crash of the bull’s hooves as they pound the earth where he once laid.

You were paralyzed with horror at the chaotic scene unfolding before your eyes. For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still—the sounds of panic ringing in your ears. But then, instinct took over, and without a second thought, you found yourself sprinting away, your heart racing and adrenaline surging through your veins.

You barely heard the roar of the crowd as your boots hit the dirt, your pulse hammering in your ears. The world around you blurred—nothing mattered except getting to Dean.

By the time you reached him, he was on his side, pushing himself up on one elbow, his hat lying a few feet away, half-buried in the dust. His face was twisted in a grimace, one hand pressed to his ribs as if testing for something broken.

“Dean!” You dropped to your knees beside him, your hands hovering over his arm, his shoulder, his chest—desperate to help but afraid to touch in case something was seriously wrong. “Are you okay?”

He groaned, blinking up at you, his expression dazed but not panicked. “Damn,” he muttered, coughing once before giving you that infuriating, lopsided grin. “Hell of a ride, huh?”

Your stomach twisted, the initial rush of fear giving way to frustration. “You idiot,” you breathed, shoving his shoulder lightly before gripping his arm to steady him. “That bull almost stomped you into the ground!”

Dean exhaled sharply, wincing as he sat up further. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said, attempting to brush the dirt off his shirt, though it did little to fix the mess he was in.

You shook your head, exasperated. “You weren’t all the way in it tonight, Dean. I saw it.”

Something flickered in his expression—there and gone in an instant. He looked away, rubbing a hand over his wrist before muttering, “Just got in my own head, that’s all.”

But you knew him too well. There was something else. Something he wasn’t telling you. Something that distracted him.

Before you could press him further for an answer, the medics reached the two of you, giving Dean a quick once-over before helping him to his feet. He waved them off with that same easy-going charm, insisting he was fine, but you weren’t convinced.

As you made your way out of the arena, you stuck close to his side, chewing on your bottom lip.

“You sure you’re okay?” you asked again, softer this time.

Dean glanced down at you, and for a second, his cocky mask slipped. He looked tired. Hesitant. Maybe even… afraid.

Then he forced a grin, nudging you lightly with his elbow. “You keep worrying about me like this, sweetheart, people are gonna start talking.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart wasn’t in it. Something was off with him. And you were going to find out what.

After your race with Whiskey, which you won, you and Dean leant against the gate watching as people cleared out of the stands and started heading home.

You and Dean sat in silence for a bit before you studied him, making the knot in your stomach tighter. "You weren't all the way in it tonight," you spoke quietly, still worried what had him so distracted. "What's going on with you?"

Dean hesitated, glancing away before running a hand over his wrist. His voice was quieter when he spoke. “Finally got my tattoo.”

Your breath instantly hitched.

His soulmate tattoo.

You searched his face, but he didn’t offer anything more. Not even showing you where or what it looked like. A sharp pang stabbed at your ribs, but you forced yourself to push it aside. You had to be happy for him, he's going to find his other half soon.

“Guess that means you'll find her soon, won't you?” you asked quietly, trying to keep your voice even so he couldn't hear the way this broke a part of you.

Dean’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t answer. He only let out a sigh before running his hand through his hair.

"Yeah, I guess so." Dean whispered, causing you to wonder why he was so quiet and saddened about it.

"Dean that's a good thing." You tried uplift the mood. "Why are you not excited about it?"

For a second, he didn’t answer, just watched the night stretch over the quiet town. Then, finally, he turned to you, something raw flickering in his eyes.

“I don’t know what to do with it,” he admitted, voice rough. “The tattoo, I mean. What if she pulls me away from everything and everyone I love? All because of fate? Sounds like a load of shit to me."

Your stomach twisted again, but you forced a smile. “I'm sure she wouldn't pull you away from things you love and the people you love, Dean. If anything if she truly loves you, she'll love to see you do things you love and be around the people you love.”

Dean sighed again before turning to look at you. He studied you like he wanted to say something more, but whatever it was, he swallowed it down.

The moonlight spilled through your window, casting soft silver streaks across your ceiling as you lay motionless, lost in thought. The distant sounds of the ranch—the soft rustling of the wind through the trees, the occasional nicker of a horse—should have been comforting, familiar. But tonight, they only made the quiet in your room feel heavier, thick with thoughts you couldn’t shake.

Your fingers absently traced the smooth skin of your wrist, wondering if that’s where it would appear. Or maybe it would be on your shoulder, your ribs, somewhere hidden and waiting to be discovered.

The thought sent a shiver through you.

You had grown up knowing that one day, when you turned twenty-five, the mark of your soulmate would find its way onto your skin. A symbol, a design, something entirely unique—one half of a whole. Somewhere out there, someone had the other half, the missing piece. But your twenty fifth birthday came and went, with no sign of your tattoo appearing. It wasn't supposed to appear exactly on your twenty fifth birthday, but you hoped it would. Some people didn't get their mark for up to ten years after. You always hated the fact that it could take that long but there was nothing you could do about it.

Dean had turned twenty five almost a year ago, a few months before you did. He hadn’t been happy about not receiving his yet, but eventually forgot all about it up until now. You thought he would've been happy to get the mark but the way he acted tonight, it was like he dreaded what was inked into his skin.

Your chest tightened as you turned onto your side, gripping the blanket a little too tightly.

He hadn’t shown you his tattoo. Was he ashamed of it? Did he know who it matched to?

That was what had gnawed at you all night, the way his expression had shifted when he mentioned it. The way he had looked away, almost like he was afraid. Dean never held back with you—until now.

What did it all mean? Why was he acting like this?

A part of you wanted to ask him outright, to demand to see it, to get some kind of answer. But another part of you—the part that had spent years treading the delicate line of your friendship—was terrified.

What if it wasn’t you?

What if the universe had written a different ending, a different name in the stars?

You swallowed hard, trying to shake the thought. But deep down, the truth remained, settling heavy in your chest.

You wanted it to be Dean.

More than anything, more than you’d ever let yourself admit.

(Plz read v )

author’s note: hey guys! I’m super excited to share this series with you and hope that yall enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing!

I’m sorry the first chapter is so short but it’s only setting everything up, I promise! (We have to get through the boring stuff first lol) The rest of the chapters will be longer than this one, I can promise yall that!

Also, if you hadn’t seen my latest post, I’m going to be updating every Wednesday now, instead of Thursday. I will change the dates on the schedule as well.

buckle up babes, because this is only the beginning. Hope you guys like a lot of angst and angry!dean lmfao.

tags:

@i-love-ptv @lieutenantchaos @hollywoodxrose @pressedwater @aylacavebear

@bonbonnie88 @lori19 @muh

If you would like to be tagged please leave a comment and I’ll add you to the list!

Also, special thank you to @aylacavebear for helping me with everything! I appreciate all the advice you’ve given me and your kindness. 🩷

[keraawrites]

Because I'm pretty

Summary: College UA, Frat boy Bakugo loved them curvy; he also loved them bratty, and you were as bratty as they come. ۶ৎ Bakugo x black fem reader ۶ৎ

Context: Belly button piercing, tattoo, use of pet names (daddy, mama, baby), Oral (female receiving), underage drinking, weed, rough sex, use of the word Nigga, bratty reader, mean Bakugo, unprotected sex *Meg thee stallion reference*

Word count: 6.4k

What would you say if everyone complimented you from a young age? Told you you were good at everything? You would sure as hell have an ego as big as Bakugo’s. Everyone knew him on campus; he was smart, star athlete and every girl's wet dream. In a nutshell, he had everything he wanted.

Yet, he was bored when he started college. Bored of what? He didn’t know, all he knew was that something in his life had to change and it needed to happen soon.

He remembered when he got his first taste of that change, it was a girl that flirted with him at his first frat party. She was a pretty petite black girl who had curves to die for and he knew from then on he would have a large appreciation for thick girls.

Don’t get him wrong, he loved every type of woman but black girls had a special place in his heart. Or maybe it was just you.

He would never forget the first time he met you, you were a transfer that made her way up the social ladder fast. Became cheer co captain in two months, became a sister for the biggest sorority on campus but what really caught his eye was the way you curved everyone, especially him.

He would have given up if it was anyone else but you were to die for and he would die before giving up. His mind came back to the screams of everyone around him, the cheers of the cheer squad and the celebration coming from his teammates as he just won a championship game, but his eyes locked on you, in your short uniform skirt and cropped top that showed him enough to get the glimpse of your belly button piercing.

He watched your hips sway as you finished the final cheer for the game.

“Bakugoooo, I can’t believe you made that throw— actually I can.” The blonde tsk’d as he watched his friends celebrate in front of him, his mind still on you but his eyes couldn’t find you again.

“Whatever shitty hair.”

“Not whatever man, scouts are gonna go hard the next game. Now come on, we got a party to throw.”

You smiled at the girls who waved hi to you as you walked out of of the locker room, you were out of breath from the cheer you had just done for the winning game.

Your school ‘The Falcons’ took home the championship cup and you and the rest of your squad gave a performance of a lifetime and you were tiredddd.

Your bag, slung over your shoulder with your uniform and some school books packed away. You had quickly thrown on a pair of gym shorts that were snug against your ass and your matching sports bra that sported your school colours were much more breathable because lets be real, your ass was bigger than your boobs.

Your brain was racking with the thoughts of the day, your fresh set pressing against the keys on your phone. Mina (your sorority sister) was telling you about the party that the football team would be throwing tonight.

You rolled your eyes at the thought process, they had already been planning this party way before the finals— apparently knowing they would win. But you had to give it to them, they did win and you knew the party would be epic.

As your fingers continued to tap away on your iPhone, you failed to realise you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings. A couple cuss words flew from your lips when your body slammed into a hard exterior, your eyes raking up the large body that stood in your way.

“Tch. ‘Bout time you noticed, brat.”

Your stomach did that annoying flip it always did around him, but you ignored it, lifting your gaze to meet sharp, almost crimson-like eyes. Katsuki Bakugo stood there, arms crossed over his broad chest, his usual scowl in place. His dirty blond hair was still damp from the game, sticking up in chaotic spikes, and his sleeveless compression shirt clung to his frame, showing off every defined muscle.

You arched a brow. “Noticed what?”

His eyes scanned you like he was sizing you up, a stupid grin on his face. “You normally pay attention, yet here you are-- head in your phone not noticing shit. You’re lucky it was me and not some extra tryna get your attention.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting your weight onto one leg as you crossed your arms. “But to me, you are just an extra Bakugo." You teased, your lips pulling into a smirk as you noticed the twitch in his eye.

His scowl deepened, but there was something else there too—something smug, something that you were all too used to.

“Tch. Fucking brat.”

“Only for you,” You shot back, voice dripping with mock sweetness.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening for half a second before he smirked. The expression was sharp, full of challenge. “Yeah, I know.”

You hated that he was right. Hated it even more that he knew it.

This was something you were all too used to with Bakugo, you remember when you first transferred here a year ago.

You quickly made friends with the right people, and joining the biggest sorority on campus also added to your popularity and with popularity came a whole lot of attention from guys, especially the quarterback of your college's football team.

You heard the rumours about him, he had made his way through a lot of girls and his taste quickly changed a couple months before you came to campus from tall leggy blondes to short curvy black girls.

He was a God and he knew it too, but you weren't gonna make it easy on the guy by falling at his feet like the other girls. So here came the back and forth game between the two of you.

“So,” he started, stepping closer, his presence almost suffocating, "You're coming to my party tonight."

You scoffed. “Not even gonna ask?”

“Don’t ask people shit,” he muttered, voice low, eyes locked onto yours. “And I already know you’re gonna show up.”

You let out a dry laugh, shifting like you were about to walk away. “Mm, I don’t know. I think I’m busy.”

He tsked, eyes narrowing. “Quit playin’. You like pissing me off too much to not show up.”

The grin on your lips was blinding. You stepped past him, letting your fingers barely graze his arm as you walked away. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see, huh?”

His chuckle was low, rough, the kind that sent a shiver down your spine.

Summer Walker softly played through your speaker, the scent of vanilla body butter and cocoa-shea lotion mixing with a hint of perfume in the air. Clothes were scattered across the bed, a sign of the usual struggle of finding the outfit, but Mina sat comfortably in the middle of it all, legs crossed, scrolling through her phone like she had all the time in the world.

“Girl, if you don’t stop overthinking and just put on the outfit I picked, I swear to God,” Mina groaned, glancing up to see you standing in front of the mirror, hands on your hips, eyes scanning your reflection with a critical gaze.

You smirked, turning slightly. “And why should I let you pick my outfit Mina? Because it’s Bakugo’s party?”

Mina’s grin was instant, eyes lighting up with mischief. “Who said anything about him? I’m just making sure you look good. Which, babe, you already do, but I have vision.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. Mina had always had an eye for styling, and you weren’t above letting your best friend work her magic.

Mina was as stylish as they came; her hairstyle was always different, but the colour always stayed the same. The girl sported pink like it was made for her. “Alright, fine. Show me what you’ve got.”

The pink-haired girl perked up instantly, reaching over to the bed and holding up her carefully chosen pieces. “Here, don’t ask just do.”

You looked down the clothes, surprised as you expected something more skimpy. “Jeans and a top?”

Mina scoffed, pressing a hand to her chest dramatically. “Not just jeans and a top. You need something that says, I didn’t try too hard, but also, I look so good you’ll be thinking about me all night.”

You eyed the clothes, then sighed and grabbed them, slipping into the outfit. The low-waisted, distressed jeans hugged your curves perfectly, emphasising the dip of your waist, while the brown backless top fit like a second skin. The neckline was low enough to tease but the bare of the back showed off the tattoo you had just above your ass and the sheer fabric gave subtle glimpses of your toned stomach under the right lighting.

Mina clapped her hands. “See? This is what I was talking about. Casual but lethal.”

You turned to the mirror, smoothing a hand down your waist. The dark fabric contrasted beautifully against your melenated skin, making your golden undertones glow effortlessly. You had to admit—Mina knew what she was doing.

“Alright,” You said, feigning indifference. “It’s decent.”

Mina gasped. “Decent? Girl, please. You look so good it’s actually rude.”

You giggled but didn’t deny it. The two of you began to sing along to the low tune of ‘Heart of a woman’ as you both finished up your hair and makeup. You had fresh bundles sewn in your hair and it fell bone straight down you back, it layered as it framed your face nicely.

A warm-toned highlighter dusted over your cheekbones, collarbones, and the bridge of her nose, giving you a sun-kissed glow. A soft brown lip liner, blended into a sheer, brown lip gloss, made your full lips pop effortlessly.

Mina looked you over as she finished getting ready. A smirk on her lips as she sized you up. “Girl if I wasn’t a mess for Ejiro’s dick I would be all up on you.” You kissed your teeth at Mina's antics but blew her a kiss as the two of you left your sorority house.

The moment you stepped into the fraternity house, the atmosphere hit them like a wave—warm, electric, and pulsing with the bass of a Kendrick Lamar song shaking the walls. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, faint traces of cologne and perfume mixing together, and the occasional hint of weed drifting through the crowded space. The lights were dim, neon glows from LED strips casting everything in a hazy glow.

You and Mina navigated through the throng of bodies, brushing past sweaty football players, overexcited freshmen, and girls who stepped out with barely anything on, all vying for attention. You could feel the moment eyes zeroed in on your back, your hips had an extra sway to them.

“Two shots, babe,” Mina declared, dragging you toward the kitchen. The counter was already lined with bottles of tequila, vodka, and an assortment of mixers, and a few guys stood nearby, eyeing them with interest. Denki and Sero were already high or tipsy as they both grinned at you two.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Denki teased, nudging Sero. “Damn, y’all took your time.”

Mina rolled her eyes, pouring two shots with practiced ease. “Perfection takes time, boys.”

Sero whistled, eyeing her up and down before throwing an arm around Kirishima, who had just joined them. “Yeah, well, Kiri over here doesn’t mind waiting, does he?”

Kirishima chuckled, slipping an arm around Mina’s waist and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “Nope. Worth it every time.”

Mina beamed, shooting him a playful look before tossing back her shot. You followed suit, the burn of the alcohol settling in your chest.

You could feel Denki's eyes burning on your lower back, you turned towards him, head tilted as your eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Yes Denks, how can I help you?"

"When are you gonna let me take you out pretty?" You giggled at his outburst, he tripped over his own feet, trying to style it out as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

Across the room, Bakugo sat on the worn leather couch, drink in hand, scowling at nothing in particular. The party was loud, annoying, and full of people he barely tolerated, but it was for his team, so he had to be here.

His boys had left to do shots not too long ago, but Kirishima made his way back over with his girl on his arm. His eyes scanned the room lazily until something—or rather, someone—caught his attention.

His eyes zeroed in on you, you wore some low-rise jeans that clung to your ass nicely, he couldn't make out the top but he could see how it also clung to you like a second skin, the way you moved—fuck.

His grip tightened around his cup as he watched you spark a blunt. He eyed the way you moved slightly to the music like it was second nature to you, the glow of your skin under the dim lighting making something in his chest tighten. Then came the moment that really set him off—you giggled at something that dunce face was saying and he swore he felt his blood pressure spike.

“Tch,” he scoffed, leaning back. “Fucking hell.”

Kirishima, sitting beside him with Mina tucked under his arm, followed his gaze and grinned. “Ohhh. You got it bad, bro.”

Bakugo’s scowl deepened. “Shut the hell up shitty hair.” He downed the rest of his drink before making his way into the kitchen.

Your eyes sparkled as you looked over Denki's shoulder, turning your attention back to the electric blonde in front of you. “Looking like a damn dream tonight. Who’d you get all dressed up for, sweetheart?”

You tilted your head, smirking. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Denki chuckled, giving you back the blunt after he took a draw without breaking eye contact. “Maybe you should give a guy a hint. I’m great at keeping secrets.”

Before you could respond, a sharp presence entered the kitchen—Bakugo, his expression thunderous as his eyes locked onto Denki.

“The hell do you think you’re doin’, Dunce Face?” Bakugo growled, stepping between the two of you.

The spiky haired blonde held up his hands in mock surrender, chuckling. “Relax, man. Just being friendly.”

Bakugo narrowed his eyes, and though Denki was grinning, he got the message loud and clear. With a wink at you, he backed off, moving to find someone else to charm.

With Denki gone, you turned your attention to Bakugo, tilting your head. “What was that about?”

The blonde scoffed, crossing his arms. “Tch. Like I’m lettin’ some dumbass flirt with you.”

You pouted playfully. “Aw, jealous?”

His eyes darkened, jaw tightening. “Watch it.”

You licked your lips, grinning when you noticed how quickly his eyes darted towards them. “Watch what? I didn’t do anything.”

He stepped closer, “You keep runnin’ that mouth mama...”

You batted your lashes, pulling one more drag from the blunt that lay between your fingers, you stood on your tiptoes and blew the excess smoke into his face. "There's so much I can do with my mouth."

He short-circuited; he never in his life thought a girl could leave him tongue-tied, but here you were. All he wanted to do was get his hands on you but he stalled, you were already off on the dance floor as some song by sexy red blared through the speakers.

He watched as Mina began hyping you up on the dance floor, his eyes glued to your ass as you began to twerk against the girl. He felt the way his jeans tightened, the telltale sign of his hard-on pressed right against his crotch. He growled as he watched some lowlife try to get between the two of you. he didn't even realise he pushed the extra away until he was on you, a rough hand gripping your waist and yanking you against him. His breath was hot against your ear.

"I'm done with this, take your ass upstairs before I drag you there myself," You felt your stomach flip, smirking lightly as you faced the your friend—his dick pressing up against your ass. You rolled your neck to the side, feeling his hot breath against you; you knew your panties were a mess.

You could say no, you knew you could. But why would you? You had been playin' this boy for damn near a year and you were finally ready to give in.

You didn't say a word to him, but you winked at Mina before strutting your way upstairs. Bakugo didn't hesitate to follow behind you, leaving all but 10 seconds between your departure. He seemed to be annoyed by the pace in your steps because you soon felt his palm on your bare back, his thumb gliding along the base of your butterfly tattoo as he guided you to his room.

He barely acknowledged the few people loitering in the hallway as he pushed open his door and yanked you inside. The heavy oak door slammed shut behind you, the muffled bass of the party now nothing but a dull thrum against the walls.

Your back hit the wood before you could take another breath. You looked up at the blonde, his hands planted on either side of your head, caging you in as his scent—smoky caramel and the lingering spice of his cologne—wrapped around you, drowning you. His breath was hot against your cheek, his chest rising and falling with the force of his restraint.

Your eyes scan his room, you didn't expect for his room to be this organised but it was. You didn't have enough time to admire it as you felt his hand grip the sides of your face, forcing you attention back on him.

"You done with that shit now?" His voice was dark as it hung in the air; you looked up at him through your lashes, your bottom lip rolling between your teeth.

"That depends. What's in it for me?" You barely got out the words before your hands and face were pressed against the food , the blonde kicked your feet apart. "Hey--" Your ass stung from the palm coming down hard on your ass, your breathing array as your stomach tightened.

"All the games you've played with me over the year, it's only fair we play one final one here, don't you think?" You moaned slightly as you felt his finger graze the wings of your tattoo; his touch was much softer than earlier. You heard him shift behind you, his knees hitting the floor beneath him.

He mumble a quiet 'fuck' before his lips grazed your skin. Your eyes rolled back softly as his lips softly worked against your back, you could hear him mumble quiet praises mixed in with curses which caused your pussy to flutter in your jeans.

"You walk around here acting like you own the place, teasing me, acting fucking bratty..."

Your moans grew louder; he was standing behind you now-- his hands around your stomach as his fingers grazed the waistline of your jeans. He hadn't even done anything yet you were a fucking mess.

"If I were to put my hands down your jeans, how wet would you be?" Your head rolled to the side, his nose buried in your neck as he inhaled the strong scent of coco butter that seemed to be mixed in with your YSL perfume.

"Yo-your ego is too big. Who says even if I am wet, it'd be because of you?" You knew you were playing with fire; the blonde was like a dynamite waiting to implode and you just loved playing with matches.

You felt his hand around your throat before you could blink, he squeezed enough to send you a warning but not hard enough to completely cut off your airways.

"So not only are you a brat, but you're a slut too." You would normally flip out on a nigga if he called you out of your name but not him. Katsuki Bakugo was the perfect exception.

You moaned; you don't know whether it was from his words or his touch. The way his fingers glided along your skin, the way your boobs fit perfectly in his hand, it was all perfect.

Your head rolled to the side, his mouth sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck as he played with your nipples.

You pulled away from him, turning to face him. His brows raised as he watched you—waiting for your next move. Smirking, you pushed past the angry blonde, making your way towards his bed. You put an extra sway in her hips, moving slowly as you could hear the slight bass of the music downstairs.

The music was nothing more than a dull thump, barely noticeable under the thick, charged silence of Bakugo’s dimly lit bedroom. The only glow in the space came from the red LED lights tracing the ceiling, casting everything in a deep, sultry haze. It made the shadows darker, the air heavier.

But the only thing Bakugo was focused on was you.

You stood in the middle of his room, body humming with liquid confidence.

He sat back in his desk chair, legs spread wide, jeans stretched over thick thighs, his dark shirt tight across his chest. His elbows rested lazily on his knees, but his grip was tense—like he was holding himself back. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, his eyes burning with something raw, something dangerous.

But he didn’t move.

Not yet; he'll let you have your fun.

The heavy beat from the speaker wrapped around you, slow, seductive, built for movement. Built for control.

And right now? You were in control.

You started to sway, rolling your hips to the rhythm, slow and deliberate. The brown backless top you wore clung to every curve, the soft fabric pressing against your skin like a second layer. The deep colour only made the warmth of your brown skin stand out more, glowing under the red light, catching Bakugo’s attention like a damn magnet.

His fingers twitched.

He bit his lip as he watched you twirl softly, getting a glimpse of the tattoo on your lower back every time you moved. He remembers when he first noticed it, you were at cheer practice, wearing these tiny ass little shorts that hugged your ass nicely and when you bent over into a stretch, the sun hit the tattoo like a fucking halo. Funny, for something so fucking sinful.

He thought he'd cum in his pants when he first saw it. His gaze often tried to find it whenever he could; he watched when you turned away, the sharp edge of his jaw tightening like he was clenching his teeth.

You turned, giving him your back, letting your hands trail down your waist, slow and teasing, fingertips brushing over the tiny, silver belly button piercing that gleamed under the red light.

You dipped low, rolling your hips in time with the music, and you swore you heard his breath hitch.

A slow smirk curled on your lips.

Still swaying to the soft beat, you hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your jeans and began to peel them down, inch by agonising inch. The soft denim clung to your curves, sliding lower over your hips, over your thighs, until it finally pooled at your ankles, leaving you in nothing but your brown top and the black lace thong hugging your body just right.

His breath came out harsh, like a punch to the chest.

His gaze dropped.

And then, it stayed there.

On your thighs.

Thick, smooth, gleaming under the red light, your skin's deep warmth making his mouth dry. The contrast of the black lace against your skin made something in his gut tighten, something feral clawing up his spine.

Fuck, he could see everything. The soft dip where your thighs met your hips, the plush, toned shape of them, the way they pressed together just enough to make his fingers twitch.

He wanted them— he wanted his face buried between them, feeling them shake as you came apart. Fuck he was going to make it happen.

The muscle in his jaw ticked. His fingers curled into tight fists, his whole body felt tight, like a wire pulled too thin, like a matchstick ready to ignite.

And you? You knew exactly what you were doing.

Stepping out of your jeans, you turned, trailing your fingers along your own waist, your hands palmed your ass but not for long because they were already buried deep in your hair as you continued dancing for him.

Then, because you were a fucking brat, you dragged your hands up the sides of your body, arching your back slightly, letting him take in every curve, every dip.

He didn't even give you a moment to breathe because he was on you.

There was nothing soft about the kiss. Nothing hesitant. This was raw, heated, unrestrained.

Bakugo kissed you like he wanted to consume you.

His lips were hungry, moving against yours in a way that left no doubt. One of his hands tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back, deepening the kiss as his other hand gripped the small of your back, keeping you flush against him.

You moaned into his mouth, and that only made him rougher.

His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, sharp and teasing, his tongue demanding, coaxing you open, stealing every breath, every sound. It was desperate, wild.

And fuck—you loved it.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his dark shirt as your body pressed against his, rolling against him, taunting him, teasing him. The way his grip tightened, the way his breath hitched—he felt everything, and it was driving him insane.

His hands were rough as they roamed, trailing up your sides, his thumbs brushing the edge of your top, teasing the sliver of skin beneath.

Fuck.

He pulled away just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting, both of you so close, so desperate. His cyes were wild, wide with want, with possession.

"Take off your top, lay on the bed with your legs pushed up to your chest."

You blinked as you still tried to catch your breath, "What?" A cry left your lips and the blonde pinched your covered nipple, his eyes still dark as they watched you.

"Did I stutter? Get on the bed, legs to your chest, now."

You didn't hesitate this time, quickly getting rid of your top you followed suit to the bed, laying down in the centre you pulled your legs up to your chest, your nails resting on the back of your knees.

You heard him mumble something but the race of your heart got in the way. All your liquid courage had gone out the window. You were getting what you wanted but you couldn't ignore the feeling in your stomach, scared or excited at what he might do? You didn't care anymore.

He kneeled by the edge of the bed, pulling you closer to him, but your legs stayed where they were. His lips began kissing the inside of your thighs, ignoring the one place you wanted him most. Your pants and whimpers grew louder, and you swore you heard the bastard chuckle.

"Katsuki..." You yelped once you felt a bite on your thigh, you knew tomorrow there would be the indentations of his teeth against your brown skin causing you to curse.

"’M’Sorry mama, didn't expect to hear my name come out of your pretty mouth." His tongue continuously swiped over the mark but you could feel the smirk against your skin causing you to suck your teeth.

"Make it up to me and eat my pussy then."

His chuckle was dark before you felt his lips kiss your clothed slit before his teeth tore through the fabric. "Oh baby, I'm going to devour you."

His heated breath ghosted across your sensitive flesh, his tongue tracing teasing circles around your clit before dipping lower to taste you properly. Your eyes rolled back as moans laced your tongue, your hands leaving your thighs to find their way in his hair but the blonde wasn’t having it.

"Keep your legs up there, you’re a fucking cheerleader—don't get lazy on me now." You groaned as he began kitten-licking the area around your clit before you complied.

His deep groan vibrated against your core as he savoured your sweetness, his hot breath making you shiver with each exhale. His hands found your ass, pulling you closer as he devoured you with increasing intensity, drawing out those sweet sounds he'd only dreamed of hearing.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he groaned against your sensitive flesh, his voice rough with desire. "Knew you would give up the act, your too much of a slut not to want me to ruin you." His thumb found your clit, circling it with deliberate pressure while his tongue delved deeper, claiming every inch of you. Your fingers began to leave impressions on your skin from how hard you were gripping, he worked you closer to the edge, his movements becoming more intense with each passing moment. His roughness only heightened the passion, every touch and growl reminding you of the fire that burned within him.

"Shiiiit, Katsuki-- I'm gonna cum." Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, moans slipping through your lips as he continued to work his tongue through your pussy.

He loved the way his name flowed from your lips and your mouth shaped it—a masterpiece in motion. Your voice, a melody, and your lips, a work of art. To be the one who heard it, the one who brought you this joy? It made him smile to himself, lost in the bliss of it all.

You felt two of his fingers roughly pull in and out of you, drawing louder moans from your throat. "Eh, who told you that you could cum without asking me?" Your hands leave your legs, not having enough strength and willpower to hold yourself up any longer, but Bakugo helps you out. One leg had been pulled over his shoulder, and the blonde held a bruising grip on your other thigh while his fingers and tongue continued to pull an orgasm out of you.

"P-leaasee, please, please." Your fingers gripped his locks pulling his face closer to your cunt. He nibbled on your clit, his face looking up at you, his grin wide as he watched you come apart on his fingers.

"Go on then baby, cum for me." And your body followed his command, all you could hear was his continued praises as he worked you through your orgasm.

You heard him chuckle as he reluctantly removed his fingers from your sopping cunt. Your vision began to clear as you watched him pull his shirt over his head, you moaned from the sight, the definition of his torso, every sculpted ridge of his abs—he was built like he was made to destroy, broad shoulders tapering into a lean, cut waist.

And those arms?

Thick, veined, carved to perfection—you wanted those arms around you as he fucked you into oblivion.

He smirked when he caught you staring, chest rising and falling with every controlled breath.

“You done eye-fucking me?” His voice was thick as he watched your thighs rub together to release some friction. You watched as his hands pulled down his jeans and boxers, his cock slapping against his stomach before it stood bold and proud in front of you.

Fuck.

Of course, he was that fucking big, he had the fucking ego for it.

He started to kiss up your legs as he made his way up your body. You pulled yourself up on your elbows before your lips met his, your tongue forced its way into his mouth, you moaned as you tasted yourself on his lips. The kiss was messy, desperate, and utterly consuming, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he bit down gently, drawing a gasp from you.

You hadn't realised your head hit the mattress, he threw your leg over his shoulder, his lips leaving yours, grazing your ears as the head of his cock tapped against your clit, drawing a sharp jolt from you, and a wicked smirk tugged at his lips before he slowly pushed inside. You both moaned from the feeling of him bottoming out, your walls clenched around him, sucking him in and squeezing him so tightly it made his breath hitch.

A guttural groan escaped his lips as he nearly collapsed on top of you, your nails raked down his back, leaving faint red trails, "Wanted you for so fucking long, but you walked around like you were too fucking good for me." He rasped, his voice thick with need. He delivered a hard thrust, stretching you to your limit as a strangled cry escaped your lips.

"That's it," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he pulled you against him. Your walls clenched around him, sucking him in and squeezing so tightly it made his breath hitch. "So fucking tight," he growled, his hips snapping forward with rough, punishing thrusts that left you gasping.

He pushed your right leg up towards the headboard, his thrusts got deeper, your moans grew louder as you felt him deeper in your cervix, your eyes travelled down to where you two met. Moaning as you watched his cock pull in and out of you, his chuckle broke you out of your trance, eyes finding his as he angled his hips, driving into you harder, faster, each thrust sending shockwaves through your body.

"So tight, so pretty," he purred, his lips trailing up your throat. His teeth grazed your pulse before he bit down, marking you.

Meeting each of Bakugo's powerful thrusts, you felt yourself gush around him, your arousal soaking his thick length each time he pulled back before slamming down again. The lewd sounds of your connection filled the room, mixing with your desperate moans. Your stomach coiled tight with building pressure, toes curling as the intensity becomes almost too much to bear. Your hands pressed against his chest, overwhelmed by the sensation. "Wait! Katsuki... I-" Your words dissolved into a cry as your walls clenched around him violently. "I can't... it's too much," you gasped, even as your body betrayed you by pulling him deeper, your legs now wrapped around his waist.

"Too much?" he growled, his voice laced with taunt, his grip tightening on your hips as he maintained his relentless pace. "This is exactly what you needed, isn't it? That’s why you act so fucking bratty, just wanted to me fuck it outta you. " His voice was rough with desire as he watched you fall apart beneath him.

"This pussy is so perfect," He growled, his eyes locked on the way your slick walls clung to his cock, creaming and squeezing him with every thrust. "It's like it was made just for me. Tell me, baby, whose pussy is this?"

"Yours, Daddy," you slurred, mind a haze, voice trembling as the overwhelming pleasure built to a breaking point. Your body was on the edge, your pussy aching to release as his relentless pace drove you closer. He chuckled darkly, his hips snapping forward even faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your lips parted with continued moans, "You know long I've been wanting to fuck the brat outta you?" He rasped, voice dripped with need, "And look at you now, drunk on my cock calling me daddy. I think you're ready to cum now. I want it all on my cock. Can you do that for me, mama? Or is that too much for your sweet little pussy to handle?"

Before you could even respond, the pressure inside you exploded like a tidal wave, your juices spraying against his thighs in a messy, uncontrollable release. Katsuki groaned in appreciation, biting his lip as he watched you come undone beneath him. "Good girl," he muttered, his voice rough and low, as you gasped for breath, your body trembling in his grasp.

The blonde above you continued to drive into you as he chased his own orgasm, you moaned as your walls welcomed the hot ropes of his cum. You winced when his body left yours, you could hear him whispering rough praises to you, unable to piece the words together but you could feel the warm cloth as he began to clean you up.

The room was hot, the air thick with the scent of sweat, skin, and sex. The sheets beneath you were a tangled mess, your body still humming from everything that had just happened.

After he cleaned you up, the blonde lay beside you, eyes glued to you, your eyes closed as your body hummed from your orgasm. His chest rising and falling, your skin glistening under the dim light making you look like a fucking brownie. His arm was draped over your waist, pulling you closer, his fingers tracing lazy circles against your skin.

Then, his voice—low, rough, and possessive—broke through the silence.

“You finished with your game, you gonna be mine now?”

A statement, not a question.

You smirked, rolling onto your side to face him, eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh yeah?” you teased, voice sultry. “Why would I do that?”

His red eyes darkened, jaw tightening as his grip on your waist flexed, his fingers pressing into your bare skin. “Because you were a slut for my cock, you started calling me daddy.”

You bit your lip, clearly enjoying the way his dominance flared. “Mmm, I don’t know, Katsuki. Could have been a lapse in judgment."

You giggled as he flipped you over onto your stomach; pulling your ass in the air. You knew he would continue to drag multiple orgasms out of you until you said you were his.

And you smirked into the sheets, knowing you had him exactly where you wanted him.

Hope you like it x

Keraawrites ©

[koririmao]

numb cast| kang daeho wc| 1.7K words cw| heavy smut (21+), MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, original characters synopsis| fucking the little marine boi :) credits| @koririmao / @duckreiii on  W  app ib| that one tik tok comment i saw under a daeho edit Y'ALL WILD BRO JESUS CHRIST

~~~~

daeho sat on the bottom bunk, shivering, knees pulled tightly against his chest. his face was buried in them, his entire body tense like a coiled spring.  

from across the room, nari watched.  

*what's that hot marine getting the nerves for?*  

a mischievous smirk curled on her lips.  

silently, she approached him—then, without warning, patted his shoulder.  

"hey."  

daeho jolted violently, his head snapping up, eyes wide with panic.  

"i-i-i’m s-s-sorry, i-i-i..." he stammered, looking like a complete wreck.  

nari raised a brow. *a marine, scared?*  

"you okay?" she asked, glancing at the ink peeking out from his sleeve. a marine tattoo. he followed her gaze and quickly pulled down his sleeve, as if trying to hide it.  

"y-yeah... i-i’m fine…" he muttered, looking away in shame.  

but his trembling hands and the fear laced in his voice told a different story.  

nari sighed and plopped down beside him.  

"you know," she said gently, "even soldiers in world war i were scared for their lives. but in the end, they still fought. it wasn’t the absence of fear that made them brave—it was their selflessness. their willingness to protect the people they loved."  

she smiled and placed a comforting hand atop his.  

daeho tensed. his gaze flickered to their hands, his cheeks tinged pink. he exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair.  

"it’s not that," he murmured. "the guns just... they remind me of that day. i lost my friends. they were like family to me. but those bastards shot them down without a second thought." his voice broke, his body trembling.  

nari didn't hesitate.  

she pulled him into a tight embrace, letting him bury his face in her shoulder.  

"shh… it's alright," she whispered, her fingers tracing soothing circles on his back. "just let it all out. i got you."  

daeho clutched onto her like she was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. his quiet sobs muffled against her tracksuit, hot tears soaking into the fabric.  

none of that mattered.  

right now, all nari wanted was to take care of the boy with the ponytail crying in her arms.  

after a while, his breathing steadied. He sniffled, pulling away slightly to meet her gaze.  

"t-thank you…" he muttered. "w-what’s your name?"  

nari's soft smile slowly curled into a smirk.  

the hands that had been caressing his back slid up, fingertips tracing over his neck and chest.  

"oh, you don’t have to worry about that anymore, baby," she purred, leaning in. "after this game, my name is the only thing you’ll remember."  

daeho swallowed hard, his blush deepening.  

~~~~

Timeline: After the Pentathlon Game

daeho was busy adjusting his tracksuit and smoothing out his ponytail, so focused on his task that he barely noticed the blue-haired girl approaching.

"oh, nari! you made it!" he looked up, relief washing over his face. "i'm so glad you did!"

he raised his hand for a high five, his ears tinged pink.

nari smirked. she lifted her hand—but instead of meeting his palm, she reached up and ruffled his hair, messing up the neat ponytail he had just fixed.

"good job in gonggi earlier," she said casually.

daeho blinked, then blushed deeper. "a-ah, t-thank you! y-you saw? i-i thought we were—"

"you're really skilled with your hands," she cut in, her voice dripping with playful insinuation.

at first, daeho took the compliment at face value, nodding earnestly—until the meaning behind her words clicked.

his eyes widened slightly, and the faint red on his cheeks deepened into a full flush. he gulped. "a-ah… y-yes… t-thank you…"

he started fiddling with his fingers, nervously chewing on his bottom lip.

nari giggled.

"cute," she cooed, reaching out to pinch his cheek.

daeho let out a tiny, embarrassed whimper.

"aww, what’s the matter, baby? can’t handle a few compliments, hm?” she giggled teasingly, running her fingers down his neck and across his chest.

his breath hitched. “n-nari, please…” he practically cried out, like a submissive pup begging for relief. 

“please what, daeho? i wanna hear you say it,” she demanded, her nails raking across his chest, sending shivers down his spine. he winced, a mix of pain and pleasure, and grabbed her wrist before she could draw blood.

“please… take me… now,” he was breathless, sweat beading on his forehead, his ragged breathing the only sound between them. 

having him exactly where she wanted him, nari smirked, a predatory glint in her eyes, and tugged on his hand. “follow me,” she winked, a silent promise of the pleasure to come, and dragged him out of the room and towards the dimly lit men’s bathroom. 

“hey, you can’t be in here—” a confused voice called out, but they ignored the protest, shoving past the startled player.

they burst into a cubicle, the metallic click of the lock echoing in the small space. nari wasted no time, pushing him none-too-gently onto the closed toilet bowl. 

daeho’s eyes widened, his throat bobbing as he watched her kneel before him, her gaze intense. she flicked her tongue out suggestively, a silent invitation to the feast that awaited him.

“n-nari…” he whispered, his voice thick with need. “shhh…” she soothed, her fingers tracing the outline of his thighs before she mercilessly tugged his pants down to his ankles, trapping him. 

she giggled, a throaty, seductive sound, as she saw the impressive tent straining against his boxers. “cute, i haven’t even touched you there yet,” she teased, tapping the tip with her soft finger, making him squirm helplessly on the unforgiving plastic of the toilet seat. 

“a-ahh~ nari~” he whined, his control slipping, making her laugh, a sound that was both mocking and enticing.

“alright, alright, i’ll stop teasing… for now,” she purred, her eyes sparkling with mischief. she slowly, deliberately, pulled his boxers down, his erection springing free, slapping against her face with a life of its own. a lewd gasp escaped her lips. 

then, she licked her lips, her eyes never leaving his engorged member. “mmm, i knew marines carried such big packages,” she growled, her voice husky, as she stroked his entire length from base to tip, teasing him with the edge of her nail.

he whimpered and whined, squirming on his precarious perch. “n-nari~!” 

she bunched up her hair, her expression one of mock frustration. “aww, i don’t have a hair tie,” she pouted, her eyes drifting upwards to meet his, and a wicked smirk slowly spread across her face.

she stood up, her movements fluid and sensual, and tugged playfully on his hair, earning a desperate moan from his lips. with a swift movement, she stole the hair tie from his hair.

then, she used it to tie her own hair back into a high ponytail, the movement drawing his attention to the elegant curve of her neck.

“thanks,” she winked, flicking her tongue out again, the gesture pure invitation, before lowering herself once more.

“now… where were we?” she whispered, her hot breath fanning his sensitive tip, driving him closer to the edge.

daeho inhales sharply as nari’s warm, wet mouth envelops his hardening cock. his head falls back against the wall with a low groan, eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

he reaches down to tangle his fingers in her hair, guiding her movements. “fuck yes, just like that, nari” hisses through clenched teeth. “your mouth feels so fucking good wrapped around my dick.” daeho’s hips start to rock subtly, fucking nari’s face with shallow thrusts as she sucks him off.

he groans deeply, voice rough with lust. “keep sucking, princess. get my cock nice and hard for that tight little cunt of yours.” he pulls her off him suddenly, admiring how her lips glisten with saliva and his pre-cum.

daeho grabs nari’s hair tighter, holding her in place as he starts to thrust faster, fucking her face with deep, powerful strokes.

he groans loudly, dark eyes boring into hers intensely. “take it all, you filthy girl. i know you fucking love choking on my big cock!” his balls slap against her chin with each rough thrust.

daeho’s eyes darken with lust and dominance as he holds nari in place, forcing her to take every thick inch of his throbbing cock.

nari gags and sputters around daeho’s thick cock stretching her throat, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. but she doesn't pull away. instead, she takes him deep, nose pressed against his pelvis, inhaling the musky scent of his arousal.

daeho groans, the sound rumbling through his chest as he holds nari in place, her nose pressed against his skin. he grinds his hips, making her take every last inch.

daeho smirks wickedly, enjoying the sight of nari struggling to take his thick cock. daeho grins wickedly. “that's it, take it all like the cock-hungry slut you are.” he holds nari's head down, making her deepthroat his entire length as he grinds his pelvis against her face.

after a moment, he yanks her off his spit-slicked shaft.  daeho chuckles darkly as nari surfaces, a string of saliva connecting her lips to the swollen head of his cock. grips her hair tighter, forcing her to look up at him with tear-filled eyes as he smirks down at her. “not so high and mighty now, are you, princess?” 

he pulls her off completely, his rock hard shaft slapping against her cheek as he strokes himself. he chuckles darkly. “ah ah ah, not yet princess”. he smacks her cheek with his thick shaft before rubbing the leaking tip across her lips, smearing them with his pre-cum.

he leans down, voice a low growl in her ear. “i'm not done using this pretty mouth of yours yet.” he shoves his cock back past her lips, gripping her hair tighter as he starts to fuck her face in earnest.

daeho sets a brutal pace, the obscene sound of him slamming into nari’s throat filling the room. he grins sadistically as he feels her struggle against him.

he pulls out abruptly, a rope of saliva snapping between her gasping mouth and his spit-shined cock.

sneers down at her. “still think you can handle me, slut?” he smacks her cheek with his spit-slicked shaft. “because i’m just getting started with you.”

-end-

[kennyomegasweave]

You don't understand how much I love Hoy. He has become my absolute favorite. The fact that he was just gonna eat the food at Jack's birthday party is hilarious. Like Tattoo was gonna make Jack fireworks, Arun was gonna knit him a hat, Joke was gonna wait to blow out the candles with him, and Hoy was just bringing vibes.

Truly he is just the best. And then later when he didn't want Jack to accept Rose's proposal because he knew he'd never be happy if he did that? He just really is the bestest boy ever.

[empanadaaaaaaa]

would you guys believe me if i told you these are my first fanchilds made ever¿

Pete, 3 years after getting married and impregnating his partner, expected his twin girls to love horror or he'll have to do it by force. After being born, he wanted the best for them. He would be a fun dad but would be extremely concerned with making sure his girls were into horror as much as he is, which would define their relationship moving forward. He'd have issues choosing "age appropriate" material at first but would gradually get used to it (though not without hating every minute of it).

These girls, by his plan, ended up loving horror. They beg their dad to let them watch more mature movies but not without their mum telling them they're "too young" for slashers and gorey imagery. They're really stupid with eachother, laughing at whatever, but they're doing really good at their grades, although their classmates (and even teachers) get a little creeped out when they talk about horror. Love to scare eachother and they're daddy's perfect final girls.

i can't draw babies/infants.

[g3othermal3scapism]

post-election moodboard

[hauntingblue]

ARCANE EPISODE 7!!!!

MY GOD I WASNT READY FOR ANY OF THIS!!! WHAT WAS THAT!!!

Also ekko wallpaper I got with my fries lmao

[acourtofquestions]

“She had no magic to wield, save for the keen eyes of the goddess at her shoulder and an uncanny ability to remain unnoticed, to play into expectations.”

[vanillaboyfriend]

i don’t feel like posting pictures. but y3s? long socks? nice pants? cute sweater? AND curls peeking out from under the hat?? i’m eatin so good. ok edit be warned before you expand tags on this i went on a giant rant about nicks clothes whoops lol it is HUGE

[potatoesandsunshine]

sebastian shooting that arrow at the chantry board was unfortunately enough for jessa 'i'll kill anyone' hawke to fall in love with him

[the-stove-is-divorced]

DHFKDHJFDHJ I really adore the fucked up somewhat sentient/alive gotham city concept, I can't help it ajdksjfkdkf. Have more thoughts, if you'd like, @nowsaday8 haha! I love yapping. :))))

Bruce Wayne local chew toy to an entire hungry, insatiable city my beloved. I love if it almost leans right into something otherly worldy, a deep seated hunger gnawing at it's core, incapable of being content by design, and hungering evermore, happy to claw and bleed and rip and tear, because eating and loving are one in the same. I love thinking about the city as some creature, animalistic in morality, and thus devoid of "right" and "wrong". Far more familiar with sensations of aches and temporary comforts, a fleeting sense of being content. I love thinking about it existing similarly to the sea, incapable of being conquered, and deemed by others as being both loving and apathetic, concluded as being kind and cruel at a whim, but it simply is. I love thinking of it ensnaring Bruce in some sort of siren's song of almost mutual devotion, as he loves and hopes for it, as he loves and hopes for every soul in that city, and remains just incapable of drifting away from its embrace, just as Gotham yearns and hungers and sinks its teeth into him. It holds him, even if its claws dig into his skin, even if blossoms bruises, and he clings to it in turn, hopeful and loving to his detriment.

I can even go wild with thinking of it leaning into more into a magic-like other worldliness, and far more concrete, recognizable sentience, like how it could always take the shape of a unending sea in Bruce's dreams, as if exposing the closest approximate of its existence to him, a weird sort of vulnerability. I think it's fun thinking about how Bruce could have almost ink-like stained fingers, or a haunting, creature-like presence when he's Batman sometimes. Like how street lights can either flicker and break when he's around, as if offering another shadow to hide inside. Or, how the very same lights are painfully bright, if someone needs a beacon of light. I think it's fun thinking about how there's perhaps times he'd certainty could have died, but he just doesn't, and how furious the "sea" feels in his dreams when it almost loses him. How he almost itches being away for Gotham too long, and it's hungrier in return. Maybe even when he's a kid and the shadows hide him so easily, and any twisted labyrinths of tunnels seems to always open up for him (will never stop my bruce looked like a haunted movie poster child as a kid agenda)

also yes to yours!!!!: #bruce is indeed the best chew toy in all of gotham #what with him caring so much his love tries to give and give and give and give #until gotham is satisfied by him alone and doesn't need anyone else's blood #spoiler: it's an endless cycle :))

IT NEVER ENDS! IT WILL NEVER END until ONE OF THEM DOES. Bruce will give everything, until there is nothing left, and it shall still be hungry, now made furious it's fav chew toy is gone.

It's just fun to think about! :DDDD Kinda like a strange god that sees you back and likes what it sees, but it's sense of "love" can be a horrid thing to endure so fiercely and alone. But it's an old thing, ancient and inhuman, more animal-like in thinking and understanding, not human, to be swayed and talked to and pleaded with, it simply wants and takes and loves, eagerly. And rarely, oh so rarely it may even give. Mimicking you like some hollowed out, possessed doll garbling the noises of scrambled human speech, parroted phrases nearly strangled beyond comprehension, choking on the common tongue. It tries to give, yes, but what it gives may not be a gift.

Like i said I fucking love this concept.

we should talk more about cities that are vampires. cities that are cold and wet and sink into your bones and stay there. cities that are hungry and want to live. dead cities that dont know they're dead and suck the life force of their people to maintain the delusion. cities with harbors that are actually mouths; one-way entries. cities that are devastatingly lonely and see consumption as love

[tonycries]

Like a Dog!

Synopsis. Jealous? How cute. He’s yours - and he’ll fúck you until you won’t forget it.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, jealousy s, marathons, NÉEDY BOYS, dúmbifícation, proposals, creampíes, praise, GOJO’S POWERS, márking, they’re YOURS, true form Sukuna, dp, Sukuna’s tattoos, cervíx kíssing, fitting it, talking you through it, p slápping, p talking, ex-husband!Toji, spítting, comfort, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Wedding vows!

“Soooo…” Toji’s sneaking long, languid drags of his fat thumb up and down your sappy folds. And it makes your breath hitch, your thighs quivering just in time for him to sidle two staggering palms underneath and stretch. Wide open. “-still...jealous, doll?”

Ruining you for what seemed like copious hours upon hours non-stop, that very same question left Toji’s scarred lips in cloudy little pants like a smug mantra. 

The bed was recklessly creaky at this point, splinters cracking with every sloppy pound that had your sanity doing much the same. 

And Toji’s crushing you against the clammy mounds of his Herculean pecs, heaving. Gasping. So, so needy that just about all you can do at this point is bumble out an embarrassed little, “Wh-why?”

“Because m’yours, mama.” Whining as his sheeny-lathered lips snicker from right beside your tender ear, and his mushroomy tip grazes right down his favorite target of your treacly slit. Slow. Steady. “And I hafta prove it.”

Nevermind the fact that he was talking like he wasn’t your ex-husband of just a few days. 

Nevermind the fact that you’re sure the pulpy depths of your poor cunt was already utterly bruised and battered with the exact bulky circumference of Toji’s proud crownhead. Because Toji Fushiguro could never dream of being with another.

He’s tugging you even more pliably into this mean full nelson of his, squeezing out a thick few dewdrops of buttery pre that lather your puckered hole. Rotund, curvaceous mound of his fattened head swirling patterned circles at your snug hole around and around-

“Don’ tell me this pretty pussy’s hngh- forgotten about me already?” He’s murking out, planting exactly three simpering swats! to your slick-flooded entrance before sinking in- “Heh- yeahhh that’s what I fuckin’ thought.”

Because your drooling cunt was always so greedy for him - your bloated pussy lips struggling and hungry being opened oh-so-widely agape. It made your slackened maw lather with a fresh wave of saliva at the sheerly raw stretch.

“Good girl- good fuckin’ girl takin’ all of me.” Toji’s huffing out, head tilting sleazily to the side to take in every inch of the heavenly bouquet envisioned right below him. “Bet ya missed me all deep inside, huh? S’that why you’re gettin’ all jealous over some rando?”

But, of course, the silent treatment never worked on Toji - and you’re finding him cooing, “Awww, c’mon my wife-” Such pointed, loving emphasis, “-talk to me. Lemme hear those pretty noises.”

And you hate the way that his rumbling baritone tilts into something mockingly higher. You hate the way that his bludgeoning tip rims around your gooey slick-filled entrance and makes your voice crack.

“T-talking about ah- jealous-” You’re managing out, and Toji’s willowy eyes widen ever-so-slightly at the way you can manage out coherent syllables even through each punctuating drill. “-but I ngh- saw the way you looked at my coworker, you green-eyed m-monster.”

He’s scoffing, spanking your overstuffed pussy once. Twice. Thrice just for good measure. “Feisty, aren’t you, mama?”

And every minute wiggle is dampered helplessly by the way that he’d curled two large forearms - muscular and veiny - around your legs to embrace you tightly. Chin rested over your head, “He was only bein’ nice-”

“And nice isn’t gonna get your hngh- cute cunt sucking like as slut like this.” Toji’s rolling his eyes, “Don’t joke with me now, doll, spread those pretty hngh- legs n’ lemme see her. No need to be shy.”

Massively engulfing hands of his crown the topped curve of your dangling knees and mold you to every one of Toji’s lecherous whims until you almost do feel shy. But there was absolutely nothing shy about the way that he was now leering at you.

Hot breath wafting with the sound of a low whistle, “Shiiiit- pretty lil’ thing, huh? Don’tcha know how much m’weak for ya? Why the fuck would I ever wan’ anyone else? Silly girl…”

“S-stop- staring—” You’re whining out, fingers tangling through the tresses of Toji’s darkly silken bangs and pulling. A blasphemous little action that earns you a heavy-handed thud of his bloated head into your soppy cervix. 

“How can I not stare, mama- she’s mine, isn’t she?” And there was something in his tone, something…edged and rough- and you swear that Toji was the one that sounded somewhat jealous. Sounded gone. “And I’m yours, of course.”

Ruined every time his ruddied tip was skimming past the syrupy adhesive-like maze of your insides and thumping right into the targeted bullseye of your cervix. 

He’s so hot underneath you - feverish. The ridged ladders of his washboard abs slipping and sliding a lewd massage underneath your back. And the feeling is so heavenly that you’re wondering why you ever signed those divorce papers in Higuruma’s office in the first place.

“No needa worry- M’yours, doll-” Grit out. Harsh. Punishing as much as his deep strokes were messing up your poor insides. Making sure that you won’t forget. Voice seeping with something wild, “H-heh. Divorced or not- a d-divorce which won’t last for ngh- long anyway- I got every part of ya ah- fucking memorized, y’know? Think I’d do that for hngh- anyone else?”

“E-every?” Your legs and voice are wobbling like jelly at his words.

“Every.”

As if to prove his point, he’s thumbing gluttonously over the rounded outline of where he was rummaging your sodden walls. Shooting out a few wiry spatters of pre that almost fill you up to the brim - so much of it - once he’s gliding over with a few cocky touches.

“My favorite spot s’always here-” The tremors of his recoiling bounces into your spongy womb rattle your melty mind. You feel the jitters of his thick thigh muscles when he arches into a curve up, up, up. “-knock knock.”

“S-so…” Mumbling, shit- Toji was fucking you like he couldn’t get enough of you. “-filthy.”

He’s rolling his eyes at that little comment - you like it, anyway if that warm geyser streaming from between your mushy folds told him anything. 

“N’ I remember that your hngh- favorite spot was here…” Oh, you knew what he was doing - you knew exactly the way in which Toji’s dark brows would scrunch with rude delight when his strawberry divot slurs right past that magical spot. “Orrrrr…here-” Ramming resoundingly with his left-leaning girth in exactly the opposite way from the spot that only he could reach so well. Toji’s tongue pops out to lap at his sneaky dribble of saliva - he was loving this. “Whoops…maybe-”

“F-fuck-” You’re all but begging, your whimpers going straight to that forevermore bloated shaft of his. Pumping in a few horny ounces that make him grow even thicker, “-fine- fuck! Please-”

“Hm…” Toji’s tutting, bangs sticking to the plane of his prespired forehead as he shakes his head understandingly. Mockingly so. “What’s that?”

“Please-”

“Louder.”

“Please.”

He’s lolling out his tongue to lap at the salty pearls of tears beginning to waterfall from your fluttering eyes, “Say ‘please- husband.’”

The embarrassment and pure irritation curdling in your veins was strong, but your need - your throb from the wet patch between your legs, and that spot was even stronger. Shit, you needed him. “P-please…my husband.”

Ah, the words are barely spilling from your mouth, barely even reaching our own ears before Toji’s making you see white-hot pleasure flickering behind your lids. A drawling keen dragging out from your throat as soon as his curvaceous cockhead nuzzles up in a sweet, sweet hug into your g-spot. 

And your ears can only thunder with your heartbeat, your spine bowing as your husband plaps his fat cock into your most candied spots over and over and over-

“One more thing.” Something cool touches your face, and only seconds later do you recognize it to be a phone. Your phone. “Tell that lil’ loser of a coworker that yer hgh- married. And-” Another deafening pap! “-expecting.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Yours, always.

“I…I’m sorry, my love.” Nanami hisses - he heaves the moment his buttery-topped tip was sinking past your puckered entrance. And there’s a dangerous furrow between his neat, blond brows, “But I can’t have ya sayin’ anything bad about my wife.”

And he was so serious - seriously in love with the way you were gaping up with spit-flooded lips when one of his thick, calloused digits massage over your eagerly peaked clit with the chillingly golden band of his wedding ring. Matching with yours. 

Your fingers dig into the plane of your husband’s unfairly broad shoulders underneath his blue button-up, all rippling muscles and sheer dripping sex appeal. He hadn’t even bothered to take his office clothes before helping you…feel better. “Kento, I-I’m just sayin’ your new c-coworker is so much prettier-”

Thwack!

Only for him to cut you off with a heavy-handed spank to your treacly cunt, and a rumbling growl - rasping from beneath his stern lips once Nanami grants you with a filthy, filthy glissade of a French kiss. And you could taste him - taste yourself from his makeout with your slobbery pussy just before.

Your sticky slick lacquering his gummy lips in a candied glaze, slipping and sliding all the way down the dimpled edges of his grin, his chin, down below between his cushiony pecs- 

It was like a badge of honor, and Nanami Kento gladly and proudly adorned it.

You’re just leaking from that gooey spot between your legs when he’s back to pressing peck after peck on both your lips and your cushy g-spot. Dribbles of translucent slick drenching Nanami’s tawny happy trail - and his ring. 

One that’s pushed between your lecherously parted lips to swirl around that whiny cavern of your mouth, making you just shut up-

“G-gonna-” Clawing at his strong forearms, shocked that you were being halfway choked by your dear, gentle husband. “-gonna get dirty this way, K-Ken-”

“No, don’t mind getting…dirty if it’s you.” You’re hearing Nanami gasp from above you, murky pants of his shooting out in a rasping ah! ah! ah! And his droopily half-lidded eyes just bore into yours with sweet connection, “And I hate disrespectin’ my ngh- wife, this way but…but m’not gonna go easy on you tonight, darlin’.”

Fuck.

The bed sings out splintering creaks with every thud! of Nanami’s fatly bloated tip smooching up against your spongy cervix. Every bouncy bludgeon spurting out the most dewy ribbons of his precum from the very tip of his rounded crownhead. Proud and ruthless.

You can only wring your fingers through Nanami’s golden strands, unsticking stray locks from his prespired forehead. Babbles upon babbles spill from your lips, “I-fuck! Kentoooo- it f-feels so good.”

“Good, hm? Th-tha’s right-” Freely thumbing away a few puddly gumdrops of saliva that’d begun just spilling from the corners of your maw with every hit after hit- 

And every clashing pivot of his toned hipbones sting, heat blossoming up your spine in this sloppy mess of a mating press that Nanami had manhandled you into. But he needed more- more more more-

“S-shoooo good, Ken- right there-” Lewd little strings of hiccups are bubbling from your chest and wafting up between the bustling fingers still toying with your mouth and making you suck. Tongue swirling up the cold engraved metal of his ring as if your favorite honeyed lolly, “Always feels so ngh- good havin’ you inside me-”

Too good.

Unable to help yourself from greedily clasping onto that dangling yellowy tie sticking to your sweat-simmered tits and pulling-

And oh, this makes Nanami gasp- free hand slamming! down onto the timber bedframe. This makes his hips hammer forward with a loudly ringing pap! Plummy, split cockhead probing into your cervix hard. 

Never slowing down, never stopping- hell, he doesn’t think he even could right now. 

“H-heh, my clever girl.” A kiss against your forehead. “My needy girl.” Your cheeks. Each side. “My ngh- beautiful girl- most beautiful girl in this world.”

There’s such utter and true loving in his foggy mahogany eyes that you almost feel shy. “D-don’t look at me like that, Kento.”

“Y’know I only h-have eyes for you, my love…” Accompanied by the digits rummaging deep inside your sultry mouth to reel back with a sodden plap! And dip down to caressingly pinch your plump clit, “C’mon- tighter. Mark me up. Tight.”

And there’s nothing you can do but listen to what he says.

How could you not?

Not when the ever-sensible Nanami Kento was begging - pleading - down at you to choke his velveteen tie even tighter around his attractive throat. Adam’s apple bobbing at your increasing strain, lightning bolts of veins thumping when you squeeze.

“Yeahhh- don’ be shy. Let everyone know- fuuuuck-” Bleary head falling back with every adhesive-like cling of your elastic walls - or, at least, trying to if it wasn’t for your chokehold with his tie. Nanami’s lips curl into an oh-so-feral snarl, head tilting to the side to chafe his own flesh with the ropey bruises of your actions. “-mark me up s-so that the whole office knows m’yours. And I…”

Fuck, you looked so cute fucked dumb and drooling on his fat dick like this. 

Nanami’s thick muscular thighs are shivering at this point, shovelling your own further and further upon the more he could feel himself losing his fucking mind. 

“And I’m gonna m-marry you.” Bumbling out over and over like a mantra now, Nanami was so pussydrunk that his rotund tip wasn’t even kissing up against the bullseye of your g-spot directly anymore. Breath hitching, “Gonna marry- hngh- needa marry. B-be your husband- and-” Just dragging out achy massages of his swollen length to lustre every gooey inch of you with layers on top of voluminous layers of his- cum? “Sh-shit.”

Because Nanami was cumming and he couldn’t stop. 

Heaps of weighty ropes splatter across your elastic channel, it’s swashing around in thick masses every time he’s fucking it back deeply into you. “I love you.”

CRACK! 

At this moment, you’re sure that it’s your mind splintering into a million pieces, and only many, many hours later do you realize that it’s your poor broken bedframe. Because you’re overspilling with drooling dredges of pearlescent seed and bliss when that finally pushes you over the edge, too. “K-Kentoooo-”

“Shhh sh sh- m’here Hold onto me-” he’s rasping out. Airy. Depraved. Like Nanami doesn’t even know that the words are leaving his lips. “So perfect…wanna marry you, darling.”

You can only blurt out a drunken giggle, “Ken- we’re ngh- already married.”

“Oh…then…you already know m’yours…” Nuzzling his face into his favorite hideout at the crook of your neck, Nanami’s words are almost cracking into a whine - a plea for the very first time in his life. “-body and soul.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - XOXO

“Why hello to you, too.” You flinch when Geto snickers once his sneaking fingers massage downwards to pry open your thoroughly puckered and drooling pussy lips. He wasn’t talking to you. “Wanna help me make my girl all happy again?”

And he’s humming along, throwing your pliable legs easily over his sculptured shoulders with an understanding nod. “Mmmm- needy one, aren’tcha?”

“You’re s-such a tease.” You’re huffing out, brows knitting in a way that only made the pretty man above you kiss away. 

“And you’re such a green-eyed lil’ monster.” He’s purring back, a rasping growl leaking its way into Geto’s teasing words. “And as much as I love that ah- jealous pout on ya, gorgeous, better know it only makes me…harder.”

Geto’s snaking a hand to pry your drunkenly lolling head to veer downwards, chuckling at the way your droopy eyes widen when you’re taking note of his staggeringly bloated cock laid right there between your legs. Red and angry. So ready to pump the heated geyser between your legs full of his inches, that he can’t help but bawl out a ribbony string of pre smearing across your tummy. Enough so that you can almost taste it-

“What? What happened to my heh- snappy girl, huh?” Inky bangs mussing up when he’s cocking his head to simply leer. Such a sleazy look of depravity taking over all of his features, “Too big?” 

You’re shaking your head - gasping, “Y-yes but I want it- want you hck! inside me so badly, Suguru—”

“Say m’name like that n’ I’ll cum.” He’s rolling his eyes, truly unabashed and greedy. With a sopping wet plap! Geto’s planting your treacly slit with a spank, only for you to be presented with the big beefy expanse of his pale forearm before you can even make a whiny noise. “Now, bite down and take it.”

You think you could sob when every long, girthy inch of his fills you up to your very brim. Bulky globular tip kissing past your gluey lips and mazing you open so widely around him, until your elastic walls were tautly stretched till you could feel every ridge, every thumping vein, every goopy spurt of warm pre that showered your melty insides. 

“Heh.” Fuck, Geto’s heart just lurches with something warm at that heart-eyed cross of your pupils. Such a pretty picture. “Can ya count how many inches f’me, gorgeous?”

Ah, you couldn’t think much less count with just how battering Geto was with his mindless ruts just to fit inside. Washboard abs flexing with every push, push, push-

You’re letting go of his heated flesh with a soppy pwah! bursting from your lungs. “E-eight?” Only to be hit with a messy thud! of his thick cockhead dragging down your mushy walls, throbbing veins thumping at your tenderized spots in time with your very heartbeat. Oh. “Nine?”

“Atta girl.” The calloused mountains of his palms covet underneath your thighs and manhandle you even closer to lock them around his neck. Tighter. “Got a whole nine inches j-just for you, alllll for this pretty pussy right here.”

You can’t help but feel like a fucking toy at the merciless hands of Geto Suguru - and he’s more than happy to pliantly jerk you around until you were halfway through sobbing at the sheer pounds after pounds.

Your glossed lips can only part open when he’s punctuating each thrust with a tug on the precious hood of your clit, and Geto was always the best with his fingers. Dipping and swirling them around dexterously to make you see flashing stars, “Sugu, it- It feels- so-”

“Louder.”

“S-Sugu-”

“Ah ah- louder.” Mahogany headboard clattering against the walls, about to break. To snap. Just as much as he was right about now. “Don’ hold back any fuck- pretty noises from me. The entire ah- place hasn’t heard ya yet.”

“Mhmm, does it feel hah- good when big bad Sugu is fucking you stupid?” Leaving a sweet little pap! of his blushing red tip particularly hard into your g-spot, you swear you could taste the bliss of his bumpy veins branding into your tenderized orifices. “When ya don’t have to think about ngh- aaaany of those silly things?”

And you couldn’t worry about anything - not that too-flirty new member of the association, not your jealousy - not when Geto was fucking each and every thought out of your poor mind. 

Barely even registering it even once one engulfing hand curls gently at the back of your neck to hide away your prespired face into the clammy crook of his neck. So pretty and supple when he’s guiding you to bite, “C’mon then- heh- mark me. Use me. Show off that m’yours.”

“Y-you’re enjoying this-” you’re whining, though, nosing away to pinprick littering bites that blossom and bloom, and show off even if he had his traditional robes on. 

“And you’re turned on.” He’s finishing off your never-ending mewls, head lolling backwards drunkenly to give you an even bigger canvas to work with. “Feeling me all deep inside-” Splaying out a palm along your tummy to feel for that cylindrical outline of something hard. Aching. Bumping up in wet smooches into your deepest spots. “Such a possessive lil’ thing milkin’ me. I need you to fuck me. Fuh-fuck me.”

Muttering, “Ngh- should- should fuck you in front of the whole cult to l-let them know.” Your murky huffs are laced with something grumbling that makes his fattened tip twitch. 

It’s only then and there that you hear notorious clan leader Geto Suguru whimper. For the first time ever in his life, breaking at the seams when your nails rake pretty red valleys down the mountainous expanse of his Adonis-like back. 

Flexing and rippling and fuck-

Fuck, Geto thinks he could almost cum right then and there at the awe-strucken expression smeared all over your face. The way your lips were curling with trickling rivulets of drool and you barely even realize.

“That’s right-” He’s cooing at your nonsensical babbling like it was his favorite conversation, and you’ve never seen him so fucked. So much like putty underneath your hands as you leave marks for days. Maw slagging open with a smirk, heady lids so heavy and hypnotized that they’re practically closed. “That’s right, that’s riiiight- That can be arranged.”

Your greedy fingerpads tangle with his silken locks and jerk in shock, syrupy sap leaking sobbing between your pursed lips and forming a little ring right at Geto’s hulking base once you’re registering what he said. “Can be- arranged?”

And ah- Geto knows he loves you. He really, really loves you. Marked and yours, he’s whispering, “Anything for my girl. Because m’yours and yours forever and ever.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “I-I’m yours…”

And not even the way that poor Choso was buried vulgarly deep into every syrupy nook and cranny of your pretty pussy would stop him from rambling those whimpering words. In fact, it was the opposite. 

He was so thoroughly pussydrunk that just a few sloppy sucks of our glutinous walls makes Choso’s heaving chest stutter mid-fuck. Drooling maw falling pathetically open at the sheen sprays formulating around his swollen, rose-pink shaft. 

So glossy and pretty that he feels hypnotized.

“Cho…” Only snapping half-awake once your trembly fingers dive into Choso’s slightly dampened chestnut locks. And the flutters of his long lashes are so adorable, “D’you ngh- mean that?”

“Of course! Don’t be silly, my baby–” And he can’t even believe what he’s hearing - you? The light of his life? Fucking jealous over a too-flirty sorcerer? God, if it wasn’t for the way that his breath hitches at the dewy cling of your mushy walls exactly around his sensitive underside, then Choso would’ve thought that he was dreaming. “You know you’re the ah! only one for me.”

And he meant it with every pound after papping pound of his plumpened, ruddy crownhead drawing spattered gashes into your rubbery channel. 

Rubbing over one slender thumb to trailway the peak of your buttony clit, Choso can’t hold back his keening whine at just how much wetter that makes your already-slobbering pussy. Swirling pressurized gyrations over and over, he’s muttering away, “G-gonna prove it- g’na make you cum- ngh- have to- ah fuck-”

“Oh- shit- B-baby, I can’t stop-” You’re whispering at the fountained squirt of your slick flooding the sultry non-existent space between you two - you’re so responsive today, and Choso thinks he could cum just from this. 

“Fuck me-” he’s dribbling through roughly parted lips, nose crinkling with utter bliss. “Fuck me- ngh- Yeah yeah yeah, milk me and make me yours, baby- only ever want you to milk me.”

You’re snickering with such utter loving in your eyes that it makes him shy. “H-heh, so cute when you’re fucking yourself so hah- deep in me like this, baby.”

He could whine, could beg your cute cunt for more. Could feel not even a mere inkling of embarrassment as his tongue lolls out like such a slut to slide glazy digits all the way into the back of his greedy throat. Dewy eyes shuttering at the sugarcoated taste of your sweet, sweet juices-

“Oh, but you sh-shouldn’t ever need to be jealous. I w-wanna…” he’s starting off with a tremoring wobble of his jutted, strawberry-pink lips. Thickly viscous coatings of saliva and your slick hanging off of them like a sticky second skin, “-wanna s-stuff my face between your pretty legs forever and ever, baby–”

And Choso couldn’t fucking believe the words were spilling from his mouth - he was supposed to be making his poor girl feel better. Supposed to be comforting you.

But these are so sinful that it makes your beloved boyfriend burn a bright blossoming red, such a pretty flush eating one the apples of his cheeks. One you can’t help but cup, “S’that all?”

Shit, Choso can feel his buttery pre coil out in a few soppy splotches that puddle at the end of your pulpy cervix, split-ended shaft making such a mess. His hefty breeder balls clench tautly at the teasing tone of your voice- dammit. He can’t cum before you.

“N-no.” Pearly white teeth sinking into his gummy bottom lip, Choso chews away as if it was his favorite candy. Trying so-very-hard to hold himself back. “Wanna fuck her- ngh-” And just one look– just one sneaking spy down at where he was disappearing back and forth always left him stupidly speechless. “-her…p-pretty lips until I…die. Think m’ngh- addicted, baby—”

He was so precious.

Tear-streaked face nuzzling the crook of your neck, dexterous fingers knotting around the bulky base of his length. And the only thing that Choso’s heavy tongue can jumble out is a mixture of your name and please- please please-

“Aww, Cho–” You’re prying his sweaty face away to gaze down ravenously into yours, and just the sweet eye contact is enough to make his skin even more feverishly blushing pink. “Are you close?”

“N-no…”

A lie - and both of you knew it.

Because Choso’s streaks of thumping veins down his sensitive cock always throbbed so much harder when it was building up. His dark lashes lacquering with a salty layer of tears, sculptured abs flexing and pulling tight when his sloppy hips pap! pap! pap! into your fleshy mounds like such an animal.

Choso has never felt more out of control - more and more like his sanity was fraying away with every bumpy nudge of his dewdropping rotund tip into your bouncy sweet spots. With every drag of your raking nails down his scalp in a way that makes him think he would fucking purr if he could-

“I…I lied.” He’s confessing like his greatest sin, one arm wrangling around your waist to smush your naked tits against his cushy pecs. Cozy. “M’gonna cum-”

“Cum f’me, Choso.”

Biting back a shrilling mewl at the lecherous use of his full name, he’s already feeling the white-hot shockwaves of his tightly teetering orgasm swirling around in his thwacking balls. Urgently latching two soft-padded fingertips onto your clit, Choso pinches-

And then you’re both cumming.

You don’t know who was first - but in the depths of your lust-filmed mind, you’re sure you tied for the hardest. Because you’re seeing ivory - or make that was just the thickly viscous globs of seed that verspilled from your knotted cunt. 

“Fuh-fuck me-” he’s gurgling out, reeling you into his glimmering, toned body so tightly. Usually so conscious of crushing you with his weight, but now you’re being pinned to the soaked sheets with every ounce of him. He’s melting into you, abs against your tummy, thighs against your own, head dripping into your throat to bite. “Love you- love you love you love- love being yours. And yours o-only.”

Clingy wads of seed sloshing out of you with every sensitive buck, Choso’s still fucking you through your high. Fucking you like he can’t stop the steaming hot piles of cum being poured out into your cozy pussy until you were flooded to the brim.

And through your black-tinged vision you can make out the hypnotized figure of him dipping down two ravaging fingers to smear the clingfilm of lustrous creamy white. Swabbing a generous helping before popping them into his dribbling mouth-

“Baby, did you know curses mate for life?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Cross my heart

“Hah- what was that again, silly human?” Sukuna’s crossing over his big beefy arms exactly how he knew you liked, and the way you’re ogling the powerful flexes of his biceps is just so darn cute. “Jealous? Repeat that f’me- for your king.”

As if you could. 

As if Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just fucking you stupid right now - for what seemed like hours and hours and hours. The fat globe of his bawling cockhead drawing a few trickles of sap down your battered g-spot each and every time. Every vicious rut arching perfectly off of his luxurious throne to leave wet plap! after plap! after plap! on your poor stinging mounds of flesh.

You were supposed to be riding him - but, of course, the king of curses had to steal your thunder. Had to shut up your shrilling whines by bumping his hips into you mercilessly. 

“Oi oi-” Two dark-nailed digits are slicking in front of your deliciously crossed eyes to snap you out of your cockdrunken little haze, and with a sharp snap! your pulpy cervix is being bludgeoned with three thick drags of one strawberry-ruby tip. He’s fisting his other matchingly swollen length with fat fingers, thumbing down those lightning bolted veins mouth-wateringly. “Don’t tell me yer tappin’ out ngh- already?”

Your mewls come out candied and so, so needy. Bonelessly jittery arms curling around Sukuna’s thick neck, to jerk your hips mere sultry inches down his soppily glazed shafts. “I-I’m- not- I was just…”

“And now yer fuckin’ running away.” He’s drawling out, and oh, you could tell that he was enjoying this. Monstrous mouth on his stomach spilling out a few greedy puddles of saliva at that oh-so-desperate pout on your face. Grinning. “Can’t talk but- ya can ah- run away? Where are ya going, huh? Lemme escort ya, brat.”

Before you can even blink, he’s baring you with such a feral grin. Plumpish lips pulled back to show off those elongated canines, rumbling snickers shooting out from between them the very moment Sukuna’s curling a staggering arm around the small of your back. Hard.

Crushing you against the sweat-simmers mountains of his cushiony pecs, you’re at the perfect deepened angle for his second mouth to just dote on the weep tip of your clit. 

“Sh-shit-” Your head tumbles airily backwards at the roughened smooch of his oversized tastebuds down your neglected clit, so hot and greedy that it makes you see stars. Mumbles slurring with every syllable, “Kuna i-it feels so good-”

“Well, duh.” Sukuna has no qualms rolling those glowingly demon-red eyes, plumpened cock swiping copious syrupy dewdrops around and around your puckered hole. “Dunno why ya think of all this- ngh! fuck- stupid shit…Ya really think I make jus’ anyone ah- feel like this?”

You’re huffing, knowing exactly the stupid conversation that got you here. “Not m-my fault- everyone in your court is always trying to be ngh! fuuuck- a-all over you and I just got a little jeal-”

“No shit, woman.” Fuck- you should’ve expected the punishing little pinch of his plushy fingerpads around your beaded nipples. And Sukuna can only tut, “Gettin’ jealous over low-lives for ngh- what? How m’I gonna get that cute lil’ brain of yours to f-finally understand, hm?”

And it’s like he was trying to drill that idea into you. In many ways.

Sukuna’s letting a third of his massive palms pucker up your swollen pussylips. Lecherously so.

Dancing his heated fingertips up and down up and down those saturatedly puffed-up edges before letting the hefty hilt of his stacked shaft fall in a weighty smack! Once. Just enough to make you sound out a shocked yelp at the messy French snog of his second cock down your treacly slit.

Slow and languid - the complete opposite of how vigorously he was now filling you up with those exact inches. “My jealous girl- ngh- one’s not ‘nough, right? Good thing your Kuna has two.”

Yeah, his size was incredible. 

Your parted lips couldn’t stop quivering, couldn’t stop streaming out geysers of cockdrunk spit at just how close you felt to bursting. 

Because his girths were plugging you mind-numbingly full, thumping veins massaging in sweet little glissades down the most treasured sweet spots of your walls. Two of Sukuna’s fingers dip downwards to spread your bulging lips, using every ounce from years upon years of battle just to buck. Up, up, up-

“Sh-shit—” he’s hissing underneath his headily cloudy breath, jaw clenching at the velvety slide of himself stuffing you doubly full. And if Sukuna thought that he wasn’t handling this well, then he wasn’t ready to gaze with glazed eyes up at you. “So- tight. Look at that bulge. Feelin’ full, brat?”

Yes. You could almost sob, pulling on those bubblegum curls at the base of Sukuna’s neck when he’s only pivoting to sink in even deeper. Yes yes yes yes-

“Good. G-gonna make a biiiig mess- here-” You’re whimpering brokenly at the sharp throb of one index of his probing about halfway down your tummy, where Sukuna’s sweltering hot tips were scouring. “-maybe then ya won’t forget who’s yours.”

“M-mine?” You’re blinking your droopy eyes up at him, and shit- he can feel his regal cheekbones burn at the pretty sight.

Drooly little squelches are wafting off from underneath you after every battering ram of an innocent peck up into your goopy depths. And Sukuna only matches the slurping sounds back up above when he latches his lips onto yours.

“Kiss me- kiss me proper.” Your maw dangles open drunkenly with a prying tug from one of his thumbs, “Lick-” And it’s so fucking filthy that you can feel your slobbering pussy lacquer with another candied wave of slick, flooding between your legs and helping you slip and slide in lewd gyrations of his lap. A mess that his excess mouth gladly laps up. “Spit.”

You do - letting the gleaming thick wad splatter onto Sukuna’s eagerly awaiting tongue and lather his mouth even wetter. And you right along with-

With your orgasm taking you by surprise - fuck. Right at the moment your dripping cunt pecks his twin hilts. 

You hadn’t even noticed the way it was building up and up and up- not until you’re letting your eyes sprint to the sluggish back of your head with a moan. 

“I-I’m-” Barely able to stutter out, stomach piling hotly with the shockwave of your high and the pleasurably liquidly masses of Sukuna’s buttery pre. Even more as he watched you fall apart. “-cumming—!”

“I know I know, nasty girl. Fuckin’ filthy.” He’s planting heavy-duty pound after pound to permanently brand all those spots, your cervix, everywhere and anywhere with the rounded circumference of his bloated cockheads. Swiping off those miniscule splatters of remnants, grumbling - with such a content smile. “Gotta work on your h-heh aim, though. Notice anything, brat?” 

Notice? What was there to notice? You muse you could barely even think - barely even breathe with the way that your mind was still jolted with your orgasm. With the way that Sukuna’s bustling cocks were stretching your gluey walls permanently open and-

Oh.

Oh.

That’s when your lust-filmed eyes see it - the tattoo. Nothing out of the ordinary to see Sukuna with a cursed marking on his tongue, but what came right after was what had you gasping…your name. Inked right on his flesh.

“Next time ya get- tch…jealous, m’ngh- tattooing your name here-” Drifting down his clawed digits from your hips and over to his own. And then up to his heart. He was dead serious. Planting your agape mouth with a sappy kiss, “-and fuckin’ ya in front of the whole court, my silly human.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - Casual?!

Sure, this arrangement with you was supposed to be casual but…one simple hangout with friends later and Ino Takuma knows you’re the only one he’d ever want to see walk down that damn aisle. He knows.

Because you’ve got your trembly legs practically padlocked greedily around the slender curve of his toned waist, your slobbery folds greedily drooling down every curvaceous inch of him. And oh, he can’t help but let off a quiet whine at the grumpy furrow in your brows, “W-wan’ more, Taku–!”

More. 

More. 

More more more that made his peachy-pink tip drivel out a few slippery douses of pre down your rubbery walls like your favorite sort of icing. Only adding to the complete and utter mess he’d already made-

“Are ya sure?” Ino’s drawling out, mean hips angling to skim just past the bruised and battered orifice of your g-spot. Slowly puckering up in a French kiss against your cervix, he’s catching a thumb down the eager globs of cum from just before that were now sloshing out of you. Teasing it into his mouth, “Yer already so f-full, pretty- Hmmmm, maybe we should just hngh- rest now-”

Ah, he knew exactly what would happen.

Exactly how it would only take three curls of his fat thumb up and down the lustrous layers of buttery seed that were staining your puffy pussylips for you to snap. To let out a cloudy pant of swears before planting your quivering feet flat on the plush mattress and flip the two of you over. 

Ino’s leaving a stinging spank once the mound of your ass rests right up against the tight curve of his rounded balls, slobbering a glossy snail trail all over his heated skin in a way that make him groan. “Ohhh, love it when yer rough w’me like this.”

“Just one more…” He’s not even sure if you knew just how lethal that pout of yours was, fingers digging into his scalp to pull on his silky chestnut locks. And Ino lets you. Fuck- he lets you. “Want to be s-sure that next time, everyone knows you’re mine.”

Oh. Ino can feel his neat brows raising, hips rummaging upwards into your gluey depths with a mindless slam! “Holy shit. I-is that what this is- you’re ngh- jealous?” Latching onto the pivoting motions of your hips, “That’s so fucking hot.”

Indeed, and who knew that a flirty waitress would leave you fucking the sanity out of him like this. 

Ino’s finding himself keening at the smaller digits of yours staking your nails and your claim all over his pretty tawny hair, his throat, his pecs. Marks upon marks upon marks-

“Hah- fuuuuck- you jus’ feel so ngh- good, baby—” you’re practically purring, jerking your hips to mush his fattened mushroom tip into your sweetest spot with practice. Up and down and Ino can’t look away. “Makes me wanna k-keep ya all to myself.”

“Oh yeah?” He’s quirking up one brow, and you can’t help but find it so rawly sexy the way he does it. “S’that what you hngh- want? Wanna keep me until ya-” Both of you hissing when he’s grazing his soft fingertips across the creamy wads of cum spilling from your soppy slit. Before pushing it back in- “-until ya milk me dry, pretty?”

He was always so mean with his mouth - but the way that Ino was arching his spine the perfect curvature off of the drenched sheets was even meaner. 

Choking out through long, unsteady heaves of his pronounced pecs, “Shit, greedy girl. D-don’t know if I even can cum anymore, y’know?”

“Just one more?”

“Dammit…dammit! Ya know I can’t- ah- resist ya.” He’s tutting, “Just oooone more for m’girl?”

Deep, vulgar strokes plap! plap! plapping! against your own sloppy staccato. Vicious. Hard enough that the excess ribbons of cum smear and sludge all inside your tight entrance. It feels so completely lecherous that you don’t even hesitate before craning one set of fingers behind your back to graze over his puckered ballsack.

Tender touch making Ino’s jaw drop with a whine -  a whine. 

“Y-you vixen–” Soft hair splaying out across the pillowcase like a halo when he’s throwing his head alllll the way back, matching the way his eyes slide behind until all you can see are those ivory whites. “Fucking take it then, always ruinin’ me with this p-pretty pussy o’ yours.”

“S’that so?” You’re musing, teeth sinking into the tender spot right at his left earlobe. And Ino’s face is so sweaty and flushed nuzzling into yours, streaked with a cherry-red blush that looks oh-so-cute. “No need to be shy about it, Taku–” 

“F-fuuuck- don’ say my ngh- name like that.” And there’s something in the way he giggles all pussydrunkenly, “Gonna make me- cum again- Fuuuck, only you could m-make me like this.”

Oh?

So very drunk off of you and the clingy smooches your sloppy cunt was leaving on his rock-hard length that he just couldn’t stop babbling. Faster. Couldn’t stop running his kiss-bruised mouth with every thwacking thrash! against your magical spots, dotting gumdrops of dangerous pre with every single jackhammer. Sloppier. 

And that smile on your face is heavenly. “Say that again, baby?” But your words are devilish.

As if to whisper his deepest darkest secrets in hoarse, breaking whimpers into your ear, Ino’s curling his dextrous inches of fingers around your throat. Hauling you greedy centimeters closer until his heady breath was bouncing in warm puffs off of your features, in awe taking you in. Drooling. Blushing. Syllables drowning in embarrassment, “Only you can ah- fuck me stupid like this- o-only you…m’yours.”

“Gonna hafta let hngh- everyone know then-” you’re humming, voice so silky smooth but Ino’s ruddied cock could feel the sweltering hot gushes as you only got wetter. “-I’ll be ah- showing you off then-”

“Mhmm– yeah- yeah, whatever you say, sweetness.” He’s sighing underneath his breath when your bounces only grow more vicious. “Proper name, place name…backtory stuff.” Face drooping into the strained crook of his neck and- oh.

And then you bite him and Ino thinks he sees the gates of heaven.

With you, straddling him right then and there like the angel you are. Your needy pussy swallowing up torrential ounces and ounces and ounces of his ribbony cum. The sappy masses mixing and meshing with the already-filthy puddle that he’d made before.

There’s just so much spilling from that strawberry pink divot peaking at his crownhead, that Ino’s entire body hunches over. Sweat-dampened forehead sticking to yours, shivers sprinting down his spine to where he was maintaining a vice-like grip plugging you full of his swirling cum.

Bleeding into his words when he’s muttering up at you through long, fluttering lashes, “C-can we hold hands when we go out now?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - WEAK

“M’not weak.” He’s spitting out, long snowy lashes fluttering with every sheeny glissade of your puckered pussy lips rovering up and down his achy, overused cock. Up and down up and down up and- “So ngh- m-mark me up.”

And it was just about the only thing that Gojo Satoru wanted - the only thing he yearned for - right after proving to you and everyone else that he was yours. 

He’d just finished smearing your prettily puckered lips with a thick lipstain of sappy cum, before manhandling you on top of him to ride him for hours and hours and hours. You’re so gorgeous milking his fucking soul, with Gojo’s own velvety blindfold dangling off of your neck.

Planting a long, exaggerated snog of his plump rosy lips on your sodden mouth, Gojo’s pulling away with a dramatic pout. “Wan’ to show them how the ah- strongest fucks. For everyone t-to know how well you- hngh!”

You’re proving exactly his point with a clingy clench of your glutinous walls hugging his rummaging cockhead. Slipping and sliding between his leaky mushroom tip between your saturated lips oh-so-easily with just how soaked you were.

With a stinging smack! of his slender, six-inch fingers onto the arched curve of yours ass, Gojo’s helping your bulging lips swallow up every one of his fucking inches. Greedily. 

“Why?” You’re huffing out a clouded pant, hitting Gojo’s playfully loving features. Words taking on a whiny tone that you only ever saw used by your boyfriend himself, “S-so that even more girls could flirt with you when m’right ngh- there-”

Swat!

Once. Twice. Thrice until Gojo was sure that your sharp mouth was reduced to flooding with nothing but needy whines at his punishing little thwacks. 

Reminding you of how he’d turned down anyone and everyone else that flocked to him.

You can only watch when he’s curling one big, beefy forearm around the pivoting small of your back. Sapphire eyes rolling up at you, “Girl, as much as I hah- looove that feisty hngh- mouth o’ yours. You think just anyone s’gonna make the st-strongest theirs?”

Before you can answer, he’s swabbing out a caramelized wad of translucent saliva, dipping down to your neglected clit and leaving off a pressurized spank.

“Silly lil’ thing. The answer is- no-” He’s humming away, like he wasn’t just driving your body oh-so-feral right about now. Prattles of praises dripping with every dousing dab of his globular tip opening up your gooey depths, “-so no complainin’ now, my girl.”

And it was so true.

With a few copious more kisses lingering on your tongue, Gojo’s blessing your tastebuds with a wet thwack! of his drooly saliva. Pecking away the overspilling spatters beading at the corners of your lips, “See how well ya take it? So no need ta get ngh- jealous, sweetheart.”

And maybe it was high time that you’re asking for a break, high time that you’re breathing in heaving gulps of air to try and organize your dazed mind. 

But the only thing you find yourself doing is carressing your palms to give Gojo’s bulging pecs a good firm squeeze. Digging your nails into the plush muscle in a way that makes his nose crinkle with a whimper.

“C-can’t help it, Toru–” Head throwing back with the roaring pap! of his clammy skin sticking to yours with each bounce, you’re stuffing your snug cunt so unbearably full with his massively large inches. And it only makes you want more more more- “-you’re just so pretty…”

Oh.

“Yeah?” Gojo’s letting his head splay-out into the pillow with a woozy grin smeared all over his ruined features. One set of his biceps rippling when he’s resting it sexily behind him, the other twitching when he’s curling one finger underneath the blindfold at your neck and dragging you until you’re mere sultry inches away. “Ya think m’pretty, huh?”

Your blood curdles in your vein with embarrassment at what you’d just babbled away cockdrunkenly - what you were still babbling out. “Y-yes. Unfairly pretty.”

Fuck, Gojo was just twitching his bulked rotund tip into your goopiest depths. Still so sensitive. Earning you a low whine puffing from between his lips, and the sweetest of kisses against that tender g-spot. 

“H-heh…” And if you were in a better state of mind, you’d have sworn that the great Gojo Satoru’s suave voice trembled with such an obvious crack. “M’gonna marry ya- I swear.”

And that massive diamond ring bunched up in his drawer to be mentioned later, you’re feeling the burning sting of his pampered fingernails raking bruising lines down the curvaceous arch of your spine. The sheer bend of it sending Gojo licking his lips, eyes craning to admire the bumpy pathways of his perfect work.

You’re hissing your own crescents drawing the very same thing all over Gojo’s Herculean front the very moment his jackhammers get too much. Strawberry red lines against his peachy flush. Plummy split-end probing deeply into all your treasure trove of geysers that it felt like just the slightest bit of recoil parting your gluey flesh made him mad. 

“Ohhh, girl-” The smile you’re bared with is so wild - unrestrained. Showing off his sharpened canines like such an animal, drooling and gleaming with mouth-watered sap. Breaths staggering out in hot pants, “-the way you hah- stake your claim on me is sooo sexy. Because m’yours, huh?” 

And maybe if this was any other time then you’re sure you’d be embarrassed at how quickly you’re hurtling into your orgasm headfirst with just those words and the bruising twang of his fingers pinching your clit.

Yet, it feels so good - Gojo Satoru was always the best at whatever he did. 

And right now you can feel your throat burn with the wrenching call of Toru— your hips stuttering down into his almost-thunderously. Riotous, vicious drags to plumpen your favorite spots with the curved angle of his thick cock, so drag out your high for far too long-

But Gojo wasn’t done. Of course, he wasn’t.

Not until spearheading few determinedly roughened thrashes up into your soppy cervix with a gritted slash of his mouth. 

“Yeah yeahh- y-you can handle it, girlie-” Swab after swab after swab that made your second and third orgasms cash into one. “Gotta s-suck me ngh- dry now, m’kay? Make aaaaall of Toyko lose their fuckin’ electrcity- ah- instead of worryin’ that pretty lil’ head with stupid things. Okay?” Final, heaving slopes of his thrusts- “Gotta take eeeverything th-this big cock takes like a champ, m’kay? Because it’s all yours heh…”

And then you’re milking him and you’re milking him until he’s gone. Ruined. 

The strongest reduced to nothing but a lecherous mess of whimpers and feral twitches of his ruby-red tip. Flooding your poor cunt over and over with waterfalls of his creamy sap, so fucking overstimulated that he can feel his footfalls planting down firmly on the mattress. Eyes watering, spine hunching-

CRACK!

Ah, Gojo’s cracking his leaky lids open to a dim bedroom, air murky with sex and buzzing jujutsu. Exactly how he wanted it - for everyone in every ward of Tokyo to know who made him feel this way. So good. To know how he was yours.

Gojo looks up at you, cock jerking ever-so-slightly at your heaving figure straddling him and oh, he’s in love. “Let’s take out the lights in all of Japan this time.”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Soulmates.

“Cummin’ on my haaaah- cock for the fourth time and still not ‘nough?” And perhaps for the first time ever in his life, the ever-stoic Higuruma Hiromi sounded breathless. Words hitching into a needy lilt of his voice, “-still want fuckin’ more, greedy girl?”

Yes. The answer was yes yes yes yes - and it was bleeding into your every action. 

Steadying your precarious hands on the cool mahogany plane of his office desk. Important law documents rustle and fall with every single motion of your hips pivoting backwards against Higuruma’s toned ones, wrenching out resounding paps! of clammy skin-on-skin. Saturated lips puckering up around every solid, girthy inch he could give, “...J-jus’ want you, Hiromi.”

“Hm, s’that right, angel?” Planting a sudden spank of his thick digits down onto the jiggling mound of your ass. And if you crane your head over your shoulder just right, you’d catch that simpering dimple at the end of his curling grin. “Such a needy girl- bet ya can’t stop thinkin’ about me, huh?”

And- shit, Higuruma wasn’t expecting his lovely angel to actually nod. 

To let your head tumble up and downwards like you were out of control, mewling out affirmative yeses.

Without a second thought, he’s tugging the tattered rest of your tight silken skirt cleanly off. Engulfing palms smoothing over your stinging flesh and spreading your puffed-up pussy lips so wiiidely agape.

Your squirmy hips are being pinned down with one of his strong arms, and the forever-deepening angle of Higuruma hiking up a singular thick thigh. Neat black garter only digging into his supple leg muscles and making them look even bigger. “Take this fuckin’ cock now- no need to be shy.”

What a pretty sight.

Of your sheen-slicked folds struggling and yearning to take up more more more of him. Slobbering out sweltering hot geysers of sickly sweet slick that drizzle between his digits and down to that neat, black happy trail. You were so needy right now and Higuruma has never loved anything more - well, other than his love for simply you, of course. 

“Not a single ngh- inch left- hah- ya really are made f’me, huh? All this for jus’ me?” He’s hissing out over the knocking thuds of your knees bumping into the wooden furniture with each pressurized thrust. But of course, Higuruma couldn’t have that- bending his legs with a grunt to lift your own boneless limbs ever-so-slightly midair. And you take it so fucking well- “M-maybe I hafta make ya ngh- jealous of overtime more often.”

You’re mumbling, “Hiromi—”

For which you’re shut up by the pads of his rounded fingertips rolling over your pulpy clit with a patterned heart. “Kidding- kidding, angel. But I wouldn’t s-say no to ya barging in my office n’ takin’ this fucking cock more ah- often.”

Pump and pump of his vigorous shaft, you feel like you can only perch your hips higher and take it. 

All the while Higuruma’s babbling away pussydrunkenly like he doesn’t even realize it - and he doesn’t. He can’t. The only thing running through his saccharine sweet mind being you you you-

“Awww, nothin’ for ya to be worried about, dear–” Those overstimulated pearls of wet tears gathering at your droopy eyes are lazily wafted away by one of Higuruma’s thumbs. “M’a married fuckin’ man- not to my work. To you, my soulmate.”

“B-but–” Your lower lips juts out in a pout that makes his strawberry pink cockhead jolt like he’d been zapped with a million fucking volts of electricity. Mind too intoxicated to really even register what he said - married. “-makes me feel so lonely n’ jealous some ah- nights, baby–”

“My poor angel-” His face nuzzles into your tear-clammed cheeks, and the miniscule bristle of his five-o-clock shadow makes your trembling orifices only wetter. “-my poor, poor angel. Y’know what we can ngh- do?”

Blinking up dazedly, “What?”

“What if I…” And oh, he’s planing over the middle of your tummy, fingers teetering sensual little circles right above where his rummaging fat cock was making such a mess of your goopy insides. ‘-pumped ya alllll f-full right here.“ Just those sweetly tender words in your ear was enough to make your lips part parchedly, as dry as a desert. “N’ gave our little family a-another hah- member…or two.”

It’s as if as soon as the idea is dropped into your needy head, it’s all that you can think about. 

“Wan– ah-” You’re mewling, “Want it- want it so bad. I-inside please–”

Plummeting your hips in an even sloppier slew of grinds against Higuruma’s, it’s no surprise that his sculptured skin where your ass is meeting and smacking into his is angry and red. But he doesn’t mind-

Fuck, in fact, it makes Higuruma even fucking harder. Every ounce of hot blood in his body bloating up to balloon his swollen crownhead even puffier, and he’s skimming over the sensory pads of his digits over and over your womb to feel for that nudge- that little probe of his ruthless shaft into your depths.

“Yeah? That sound good?” He can’t help but snicker in an uncharacteristically sleazy way at just how eagerly you’re nodding, “‘Course it does- my- ngh! good girl takes it all, doesn’t she?” He’s so filthy with his mouth, driving you closer and closer to the edge, even more so when he’s finally uttering. “N’ m’gonna give my all because m’yours, angel. All yours.”

He was fucking you all the way through your high like he meant it - and was driving the very message into both your gummy cunt and your stupefied mind. 

Over and over in such salacious grounds of his bulky cylindrical shaft swirling into your pudgy cervix. Kissing you hello and goodbye each n’ every time until he can’t hold it in-

Can’t stop. Can’t even falter when the arm manhandling you flatly onto your front sags with the weight of his entirely powerful body. Hunching over with a low groan, Higuruma’s filling you up to the very brim. Even past that with the utter viscous volume of seed treacling past your puckered slit. 

It’s so soppingly soaked that you’re feeling your thighs slip and slide past each other with every squeeze, lathered in a sugary frosting of his cum. Packed and plugged safely inside your goopy depths.

Higuruma can’t help but let his heart twist with utter pride at the way he could feel the matted masses cream and knot around his throbbing shaft inside of you. Ready to keep you locked up in here as long as possible for it to take. 

Overtime be damned, he was on a mission to prove that he’s devoted - that he’s yours.

Which is what finds him sneakily tugging open the second drawer on his desk while you busy yourself trying to catch desperate breaths. To steady yourself. To fucking open your eyes after this thorough ruination of your insides - only to see something big, and glinting on your left ring finger. 

A big, expensive diamond in exactly the design you’d off-handedly mentioned liking years and years ago.

Your mouth drops, and Higuruma’s crooks into a simpering smile. “If that didn’t prove m’all yours- maybe this will, my wife.”

A/N. WALK ‘EM LIKE A DOG SIS-

Plagiarism not authorized.

[bi-writes]

just his girl being so attracted to simon and him not understanding it. (18+)

i mean like...he's never had a girlfriend like this. he's never even had a girlfriend, period, not really, not anyone he's seen more than once, not one that he's known long enough to remember her name.

he just doesn't get it. whenever he comes into your vicinity, he can see the sparkle in your eyes. the smile that graces your face, the way your expression lights up, the way your body moves on its own just to get closer to him.

he wonders if he lets you because of the sick satisfaction he feels. to be the center of your attention, it makes him feel so fucking special, so important. another man can look at you the same way, but he knows your cunt will be dry. but when he looks at you that way, he can see the way your legs squeeze together, and he loves knowing that if he flipped up the hem of your skirt, you'd be so sticky and practically drooling there, all for him.

he doesn't think himself very attractive. he's had his fair share of one night stands, but the way you keen for him makes him so hungry. he loves hearing you whine when he grabs your ass, loves feeling you drip onto his fingers when he kisses you after a long day, loves the way that nothing else will ever make you smile the way he can when he touches your face.

"i love you so much," you whisper, and he has to look away or else he'll groan.

"i missed you," you whimper after he's been away for a long time, and he has to bite back the tremble in his lip because fuck, he missed you, too.

"you're so big, baby," you whine, and he can't help the way he chubs up immediately as you feel up his thick biceps, along his pecs, over the warm layer of fat around his solid middle. you can cum so fast just riding his big thigh, hell--you can cum by yourself just looking at him. he's so hot to you, so handsome, even if he doesn't take his mask off or any of his clothes, because you love him so much, and his eyes are sometimes all you need to feel enough. and fuck if that isn't the biggest ego boost, seeing his girl's pussy creaming just by fixating on the flex of his big hand.

his confidence is so puffed whenever he's around you. he gets goosebumps whenever your eyes are on him. even now, it's been years with you, and you still make him feel like the hottest guy in the room with the way your eyes look him up and down.

you're his perfect girl. his best prize. he doesn't understand how he ever got you, how he ever reeled you in, but there isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't understand how undeserving he is of you and how incredibly lucky he is. it makes him selfish. he has you, and he can't lose you, so fuck how he has to keep you, cause he will. and he thinks you like that, too.

he thinks you like the way he fondles you under your skirt in a crowded place. he thinks you like the way he fucks, deep thrusts as he grips your face and murmurs mine, mine, mine between low groans and fingerprint bruises. he thinks you like the way he hovers, glaring at anyone that looks your way and devouring you in a grocery store parking lot because the cashier at the till looked at your legs for just a second too long, and need ta remind ya who ya belong to, pet.

you were wet anyways, he had worn short sleeves that day, and your eyes hadn't left his tattoo sleeve since he came out of the shower. so wet, ruining those panties, his favorite little black pair with the skull print pattern along the band.

dripping, creamy, pulsing little cunt that is all his. hadn't so much as even touched you yet, and here you are, drooling so sweet. he just didn't want to waste the meal.