#he got what he wanted and that’s really what matters to him
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lieslab · 3 days ago
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If we could only turn back time
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꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎
Pairing: Chan X gn reader
Summary: After a Dispatch article leaks, your betrayed boyfriend kicks you out of your shared apartment and you're silenced in the worst way possible.
Genre: Angst with a happy ending
Word Count: 5.1K
Trigger warning: Misunderstood trope, physical assault, anger, yelling, a car accident, plus graphic descriptions of physical injuries, and doctors/hospitals.
A/N: I had three hours of sad One Direction music, one request, and a dream. Requestee, you asked for angst and I have given it my all. I hope this meets every expectation and more <3
_ _ _
You were the light of Bang Chan’s life. At least, that’s what he thought. For months, his love grew for you. Over time, he opened up more and more. You crawled into his heart and made yourself at home. 
And then you tore it open. 
He thought he finally had the love of his life, but it turns out, you were just like the others. Not really loving him, but dragging along, clinging onto clout, and when the next man came, you jumped with both feet. You didn’t even say goodbye, but neither did he. 
There was no warning for either of you. One day, the two of you were head over heels for each other. The next, everything fell apart. Hearts cracked like stained glass. Tears fell, but the words from both of you didn’t provide the comfort the other so desperately craved. 
In the end, two hearts ripped apart. The world tipped in the wrong direction. You both lost your footing and for weeks, nothing would be the same for either of you, ever again. 
~ ~ ~ 
When you came home from buying groceries, the apartment was quiet, like usual. Chan’s warm presence had been gone since this morning. Up at the crack of dawn, he disappeared to continue making his dreams come true. 
You missed him when he was gone, just as he missed you, but dreams were important. No matter what happened between the two of you, it was the one thing you both agreed that it was important. No matter where your life took you, the most important thing was keeping focused on your dreams. 
Yes, the two of you were in love, but that wasn’t stopping either of you from pursuing your passions. Not yet engaged, the two of you vowed to be supportive of each other. Through thick and thin, in the risky moments, and everything in between; you swore to be there for one another. 
Your bare feet glided across the tile floor with ease. Without Chan, the apartment felt empty, but that didn’t stop you from trying to make it feel warm and fuzzy. Over on the side counter, you turned on the candle warmer. Maybe by the time Chan got home, the apartment would be full of a welcoming vanilla buttercream. 
You swore his cologne had hints of vanilla. He disagreed with you and insisted you didn’t know your scents. Just to prove a point, you bought the vanilla candle, and yet, he refused to see it.
He could be stubborn like that sometimes. Certain things he couldn’t see. No matter how hard and how obvious you attempted to make these things, he refused to see them. Sometimes, it was more frustrating than anything, but you learned to deal with every part of him; the good and the bad. 
You had your own set of flaws, too. Out of everyone existing in the world, there was nobody that you wanted to be with more than Chan. The two of you were still so young. There was a lifetime of adventures and fun to have. You were hoping the relationship between the two of you would last forever. 
It ended when Chan stormed through your front door. The bang of the front door slamming against the sidewall sent your heart racing. You grabbed a can of peas for defense and held your breath. 
Footsteps stormed through your living room. Your fingers turned pale around the can. A sigh of relief fell from you when you saw the furrow on Chan’s face. “Holy shit, you scared the crap out of me. What’s wrong, baby? What happened?” 
You put down the can and walked towards him. Your hands stretched out to grab his face. To your surprise, he swatted them away. Your eyes widen at the faint sting. “What are you-” 
“You don’t get to baby me after what you did!” 
“I-I did something? What did I-” 
“Shut up! You don’t get to pretend like you don’t know! You know I’ve felt like a piece of shit because I can’t be here twenty-four-seven! You know I travel for work and yet you still choose to hurt me in the worst way possible!” 
Confusion filled your face and it just pissed him off more. He jerked his Samsung phone from his pocket. You watched as he typed in the password. Your actions from the past few days rolled through your head like stop-motion. Each silent click, more scenes filled your head. 
None of them stood out. You couldn’t recall what you did wrong, but Chan was furious. Your mouth opened, but words didn’t come out. He flipped the screen to find the bold words of a Dispatch article. Your heart hit the ground with a sickening splat. 
Trouble in paradise: A Rocky Road Ahead For Stray Kids’ Bang Chan’s Romantic Relationship. 
Attached, two photos of you grinning at another JYP idol from another group. In one, you were waving at them. In another, you were leaning over and hugging them. 
“It’s not what it looks like!” 
“Really? Because you know what it looks like to me? It looks like you were attempting to hide a close relationship with someone in a younger group.” 
“That’s not true! Chan, it’s Dispatch! You can’t possibly believe that I-” 
“I want you out of my apartment.” 
Your face fell at his words. “You…you wouldn’t. Please, just let me explain and I-” 
“When have you ever talked about him? Never! You’ve never been close to another idol! Yet now, you’re hugging him?” 
“Chan, please!” 
“Get out!” 
“But-” 
“Out!” His voice raised. “Get your stuff and get the fuck out of my apartment! Don’t bother coming back!” 
The words were loud enough to frighten you. You left the grocery bags scattered on the kitchen island and took off. Tears filled your eyes. You wanted to explain, but he kept cutting you off. 
Too heated to think about the situation, his insecurities got the best of him. In the kitchen, he slumped against the counter with his head in his hands. Warm tears filled his eyes at the sound of your sniffles. 
He wanted to comfort you, but the hurt was too much. He grew to love you with everything he had and within one Dispatch article, his swollen heart popped. How could you do this to him? After everything the two of you had been through, why did you have to ruin it? 
Tears blurred your vision and you didn’t look back. You jerked items from the closet and tossed them in your suitcase. Grabbing handfuls from each of your dresser drawers, you tossed them in with everything. Even the toiletries, you didn’t have time to organize them. 
Chan wanted you to go, so you’d leave. At the end of the day, this was his apartment. You paid rent, but his name was the first on the contract. He paid the down payment, not you. 
You gave him one last desperate look as you passed by, but he didn’t see it. His name fell from your mouth in a weak croak, but he didn’t pull his hands from his eyes. “Please, just go away.” 
You spun around, gripped your suitcase tighter, and then you did. 
~ ~ ~ 
All night, you drove around without a destination in mind. You refused to call one of Chan’s members and plead for help. It’d only stir up drama in the group. That was the last thing you wanted. 
Numbness hung over your head. You still couldn’t believe everything that happened a few hours ago. If he would have listened, he would have understood. The tears dried up a while ago, but the empty feeling in your chest didn’t go away. 
Seoul’s late afternoon crept into another dark night. Gray blotted skies drifted into a pitch black. Neon lights reflected off the paint on your car, but the warm colors didn’t warm your heart. 
The car felt lonely without Chan. You’d give anything to hear his laughter from beside you. The playful banter while he reminded you to turn on the correct turn signal. It’d been a constant inside joke between the two of you. Ever since you accidentally flicked on the wrong signal and turned the wrong way, he’d never let it go. 
The way he tipped his head forward. Messy tendrils of dark hair fell over his forehead. His squeaky laugh warmed your heart. Such a far comparison from the anger that rattled the apartment walls earlier. 
You poked his dimples between the stoplights. On nights when the two of you wanted to get away from everyday life, you found peace in this car. You’d drive and be in control for once. He’d sit beside you with a hand on your thigh. 
Simple conversations filled the car. Love pooled between the two of you. Shared laughter, quiet conversations, and the secret getaway that your car provided you’d do anything to turn back time. 
You loved him for a reason. You always had and you always would. Just because photos told one story, it didn’t mean they told the entire story. Snippets didn’t capture the truth. The context was important, but Chan was too distraught tonight. 
Too stressed out. Too angry. Too frustrated. Things built up and that article was the breaking point. Those photographs became thorns in your relationship. In one day, the roses wilted. Withered petals gathered at your feet. 
Tomorrow would be better, you reassured yourself as you drove. Tomorrow, Chan would realize he was wrong. He jumped the gun in this situation. In the morning, he’d call you and apologize. 
Tomorrow, you’d be welcomed home with a heartfelt apology and a bouquet of fresh flowers. A glass full of red wine, sweets, and a home cooked dinner. Tomorrow, things will be okay again. These tears were temporary. This hurt wouldn’t last forever. 
At a stoplight, you grabbed your phone and dialed Changbin’s number. On speaker phone, you waited and waited, but he didn’t pick up. If anyone would know the truth and be able to rationalize Chan’s brain, it was him. 
The red light from the stoplights highlighted faint tear streaks. You sniffled, wiping your long sleeve across your dripping nose. Your eyes shut and your voice cut out and quivered as you spoke. 
“Please know that I didn’t mean to cause him or you guys any harm. I ran into him the other day and asked if he could help teach me a dance. He’s one of JYP’s best dancers and I know Stray Kids are busy. His group is on break and I just thought I could surprise Chan with a dance.” 
“Saying it out loud, I get that it’s stupid now. I was just hoping it’d cheer him up. He’s been so stressed lately. I thought the least I could do was make him laugh.” 
“If you get a chance and if he’s willing to hear it, please let him know I love him. I love him and I’m sorry. Dispatch is stupid and I hate them. You can even ask that idol and he’ll tell you the same thing. I’m so sorry, Changbin. I’ll talk to you later. I have to find a place to stay tonight.” 
You swallowed the lump in your throat and shut your eyes. After clicking the end call button on your phone, you threw the device into your passenger’s seat. Maybe if you were lucky, Chan would hear out Changbin. Level-headed and rational, you knew Chan appreciated the advice he gave out. 
A car horn honked behind you. Your eyes quickly reopened and the green light stared back at you. Unblinking, you grumbled beneath your breath. “I’m going, I’m going, geez.” You inched out into the intersection, expecting to continue going straight. 
You weren’t expecting your car to jerk left. Your screams blended with the sound of crushing metal. Orange sparks flew. The sickening scent of burnt rubber and diesel hit your nose. Your seatbelt cut into your neck and briefly cut off your air flow. 
The last thing you remembered was the horn of the semi-truck vibrating your entire car. 
~ ~ ~ 
It wasn’t Dispatch that was the first one to find out about the devastating car accident; instead, it was Jeongin. He sucked in a deep breath as he walked into the hospital. Last night, after struggling with the flu, someone admitted his friend to the hospital. 
He mumbled beneath his breath, trying to figure out what to say. A blue medical mask sat over his nose and mouth. He knew to keep his distance, but he still felt awful that they were here. 
Hospitals were lonely. In the brief moments when families and friends disappeared. When the nurses were following their routine rounds and doctors were checking in on other patients, people were left alone. The isolating white walls. The uncomfortable piercing beeps from the heart rate monitor. The cold IV drips, distributing medicine directly into the bloodstream. 
Surgical stitches ached. Disease weighed heavily upon the lungs. Intubation and the mechanical push and pull of oxygen and carbon dioxide. Hospitals were the opposite of warm and welcoming. Cold and sterile, he rather wished his friend was at home. 
The colorful bouquet of multicolored flowers was the brightest thing in the hallway. Closed doors with numbers passed by as he walked. The nurse’s announcement of his friend’s room number echoed in his head. 
It dissipated when he heard your name from a nurse in a cracked room. Before he knew it, he was pushing the door open and stepping inside. On the hospital bed, you were unrecognizable. Scrapes and cuts laced your face. Both plum purple eyes swelled shut.  
The right side of your face puffed up unnaturally. Black stitches poked out from the bottom of your lip. That was just your face. That wasn’t beginning to touch the cast on your arm and the rest of your body hidden beneath the blue covers. 
He knew it was you. He recognized the promise ring on your ring finger. He had helped Chan pick it out. He glanced around, searching for Chan, but he wasn’t there.
“Are you lost?” 
He glanced up to find the nurse. Her blonde hair tied back in a high ponytail. She observed him through black, circular-rimmed glasses. 
He shook his head and repeated your name. The nurse frowned and he pointed to you. “Is this-” 
“Are you family?” 
“Brother.” 
You weren’t biologically related, but it felt true deep down. 
~ ~ ~ 
Changbin tried to bring the situation up to Chan, but every time he spoke your name, Chan would shut down. From what Changbin knew, Chan didn’t know what happened to you. The rest of the guys did, but they all received the same results. Every time they spoke your name, Chan grew irritated and short-tempered. 
“I don’t want to talk about them! Stop bringing them up! Enough!” 
The charming and charismatic leader unraveled at the seams. His heart was full of love for you and you ruined it. That wasn’t something he took lightly. The hurt oozed out in other ways. 
His songs weren’t coming together as easily anymore. He used to get your feedback when he went home, but now the apartment was empty. The bed was colder without you. He was lonely, but he wouldn’t admit it. 
He snapped during dance practice. After he snapped at a manager, a manager lectured him about authority and respecting his elders. Nobody understood the hurt that he was going through. It didn’t help that Dispatch began showing up and bothering him. 
They could take all the pictures they wanted. He’d never give them the satisfaction of breaking his heart. Instead of listening, he put on his airpods and cranked up the music. He shoved through the camera flashes with his baseball hat low and a face mask covering the rest of his face. They didn’t deserve to turn his heartbreak into entertainment. 
He’d never let them break him. They already did it once. You were gone and the longer you went without a call or a text, he assumed they were right. They caught you cheating and you accepted it. You didn’t fight for your relationship. 
You didn’t call and beg for him to take you back. You didn’t call and try to explain. He sent you one text, but you never opened it. He was at a complete loss without you. 
Some would call him stubborn for it, but he’d say that he was just trying to protect himself from more hurt. 
~ ~ ~ 
The lonely days for you didn’t stay lonely for long. Jeongin discovered you hours after your accident. The days slipped by, but you weren’t alone anymore. Unconscious and pumped full of medicine, sure. They were far from lonely. 
Every evening, the guys took turns hanging out beside your bed. Seungmin would sing the songs you liked. Jeongin told you funny stories of Chan, trying to bring you back to consciousness. Minho brought you warm comments from the fans who found out about your accident. The rest of the guys had their own things, but Chan’s voice never filled the room. 
Stuck in a coma, things were dark. Occasionally, you could hear the beeping of your machines. You could feel your lungs expand and compress unnaturally. Your body felt like a shell more than anything. Voices came and went, but never Chan’s. 
In the darkness, you couldn’t see. You weren’t sure if you were dead or not. Stranger’s voices appeared in soft whispers and then they faded. You weren’t sure what was going on, but you knew you were exhausted. 
Those audible voices and sounds never lasted for long. You couldn’t feel pain. Every sensation within you felt numbed. A heavy fog filled your head and something clouded your vision. 
You attempted to open your eyes every so often, but they didn’t budge. Someone glued them shut. Every limb tingled with tiny pins and needles. You didn’t know if this was death, but it didn’t feel comforting. Somewhere between the realm of the living and dead, doctors kept you in a medically induced coma. 
How else could they heal the swelling of your brain? ~ ~ ~  
“I can’t take this anymore!” Felix cried out. He shoved himself from the chair and pulled out his phone. “This is such bullshit! I’m tired of keeping this from him.”
“Well, we’ve tried. What do you propose we do? Tell him to get to the hospital without mentioning his significant other’s name?” Seungmin crossed his arms over his chest. “Good luck. We’ve tried everything and it’s been twenty-something days.” 
“Actually, that’s exactly what we should do. How much longer can this go on for? This is pathetic, even for him! I get that he’s hurt, but look at them!” He reached over and gestured towards your bed. 
You remained intubated and unmoving. The swelling in your puffy eyes faded a little more each day, but they still looked awful. The stitches in your lips disappeared, but a fresh pink scar remained. 
Swirls of purple and blue smeared along your face. Broken bones reset and were on the mend. You were a living miracle. The first responders were afraid you wouldn’t make it, but when they pulled you from the wreckage, you continued breathing. 
So he unlocked his phone and hit Chan’s contact name. 
“Hello?” 
“Chan?” 
“Yeah?” 
“You need to get to the hospital right now. Call me when you get here.” 
“WHAT?” 
“I can’t talk. Just call me when you get here.” 
“Felix!” 
He grimaced and hung up the phone. Seungmin shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You probably gave him a heart attack. He’s going to kill you when he gets here, you know?” 
“That’s a problem for later.” ~ ~ ~ 
Chan flew from his apartment. His heart pounded in his chest and he couldn’t breathe. Losing you was hard enough. If anything happened to a member of his group, he’d never forgive himself. 
“Come on, come on!” He fumbled with his seat belt in one hand. With the other, he swung his car door shut. In seconds, he jerked the car in reverse and slammed the pedal. 
He lurched down the driveway, spun the wheel with a rubbered squeal, and shifted the car into drive. The engine roared and he sped down the road. 
What-ifs grew stronger on the way to the hospital. His breath caught in his throat and he struggled to stay calm. Last he knew, everyone was fine so what happened? Who? How bad was it? 
The moment he parked, he whipped out his phone and dialed Felix’s number. When Felix responded, his voice came out frantic. “I’m here! Where are you?” 
“Room one-twelve. I’ll meet you half-way. I’ll see you soon.” 
“Wait, who is-” 
Click. 
“Fucking hell!” He cried out. He grabbed the keys, sped from the car, and rushed towards the automatic door. 
Everything was a blur inside. Voices appeared from the waiting room. The receptionist glanced over the front desk and eyed him, but she didn’t stop him. He glanced left and right and opted to go left. 
The carpet disappeared beneath his feet and turned into squeaky clean white vinyl. An easy material to clean and disinfect daily. He rushed forward when he saw Felix appear down the edge of the hall. 
The squeak of his shoes didn’t matter. He ignored the doctor he passed that told him to stop running. By the time he reached Felix, he grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. “Who is it? What happened? Tell me!” 
“Just, come on.” 
“Felix!” 
Felix didn’t budge. He grabbed Chan’s wrist and pulled him along. His chest filled with anxiety and his lungs compressed. When the pair appeared at the right door, Felix dropped his wrist and slowly pushed the door open. 
He expected to find Han or Jeongin. A broken and battered Hyunjin or Changbin hooked to oxygen. This was the intensive care unit. This was for the severe cases. The patients that required a close eye and keen detailing. 
Upon seeing you, his face fell. The bruising upon your face. The tube down your throat. Your lifeless skin and unmoving limbs. There was no sign of the life the two of you created. 
No reassuring smiles, or laughter. Seungmin sat solemnly beside your bed in a chair. “I’m shocked that you finally made it.” 
“What the hell happened?” He hurried to the opposite side of your bed. His hand reached out, but he didn’t touch you. Too frightened by your state, he didn’t know where he could touch without causing you pain. 
“Try their hand,” an unfamiliar voice spoke up. He whirled around to find a nurse in blue scrubs. “Their hands survived the crash. You can touch their hands if you wish.” 
“Sorry, I came in to get some vitals. It’ll only be a few moments and then I can leave you alone. Visiting hours are open until eleven o’clock tonight. I’ve never seen you here before, so I thought you should know.” 
“How long have they been like this?” He whispered. Tears filled his eyes and his heart ached. 
“Since the night you told them to leave your apartment.” 
“What?” 
“Felix!” Seungmin’s voice shot out sternly. “It’s not like that, Chan. Yes, the accident happened that night, but don’t beat yourself up over it. A driver of a semi-truck was speeding and couldn’t stop in time.” 
“That was nearly a-” 
“I’m sorry, hyung.” Felix’s hand appeared on his shoulder. “We tried to tell you, but every time we tried to utter their name, you were angry. We should have found a better way to tell you, but…” He trailed off, unsure of what else to say. 
The nurse grabbed your vitals and disappeared to give the guys time with you. Chan collapsed to his knees and grabbed your hand with both of his. For nearly a month, you’d been stuck in this bed. He thought you’d given up on the relationship with him. 
This entire time you haven't texted him back. Not because you were angry. Not because you were sad. Not because Dispatch’s rumors were true. But it was because you physically couldn’t. Intubated and trapped in a medically induced coma, you couldn’t reach out, even if you wanted to. 
“I’m so sorry,” he croaked. “I’m so sorry, I-I thought that they-” 
“Easy, hyung.” 
“What did I do? What the fuck did I do? If I wouldn’t have kicked them out of the apartment, this wouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have been so angry. I should have let them explain.” 
Seungmin shot Felix a look. He shrugged and gently rubbed Chan’s shoulders. “It’s not your fault, Channie. You were hurting and you didn’t mean for this to happen.” 
He was supposed to be the leader. A strong pillar and an even stronger influence on his younger members. As the eldest member, he was supposed to be reliable. At that moment, he crumbled. Tears appeared in his eyes as a sob broke from his chest. 
No wonder you had been so quiet. He called you once and hit your voicemail. He longed to hit the call button, just so he could hear your voice again. He squeezed your hand tighter and pressed it against his cheek. 
“Wake up. Wake up, baby, please! Come back to me. I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I'm so sorry!” 
Tears blurred his vision. He struggled to comprehend your mangled face. Your other hand sat wrapped in a cast. You must have been so broken when you arrived here. He wasn’t here to comfort you. He wasn’t here to try and console and cheer you up. 
A wheeze fell from his throat. The betrayal slicing through his heart disappeared. This time, he felt like he was the one that had betrayed you. He hurt you in the most unimaginable way possible. 
You laid here broken and half-dead. You spent hours fighting for your life alone. And where was he? Walking around your shared apartment drowning in his own self-pity. He’d never forgive himself for this. 
“What is this?” He finally whispered after his sobs faded away. His throat was raw. His voice came out scratchy. “How bad is it?” 
“The doctor said they should wake up at any time. They weren’t breathing on their own. A medically induced coma ensured to make sure their brain’s swelling could stop.” 
“It was that bad? They’ve been suffering through all that alone?” His bottom lip quivered. He grew afraid of the response he’d receive. 
“No,” Seungmin spoke up. “Jeongin found out first. He was the one that notified us. He said he tried to tell you, but when he showed up at your apartment, you told him to leave.” 
Horror filled Chan at the memory. Later that same night, back when you left, Jeongin appeared on his front porch pale. Instead of hearing out the younger member, he told him to get lost and slammed the door in his face. Deep down, he was afraid to be viewed as weak in front of the younger member. 
The memory stung his heart. Poor Jeongin just wanted him to know the truth and he slammed the door in his face. No wonder Jeongin seemed so nervous around him. He was probably worried that Chan would find out the truth and yell at him for not telling him. 
He rubbed his face and pawed at his eyes. “So does everyone know?” 
“Everyone besides you.” 
“Sorry you’re late. None of us knew how to get you here. You’d never listen when we tried to talk about them.” 
“I was such a stupid, selfish asshole.” 
“You were hurting,” Felix corrected him. 
“And a stupid, selfish asshole.” 
“You were.” 
“Seungmin!” Felix cried. 
“No, I want him to know that he was. I’m not going to sit here and pity him. You were a jerk, Chan. I hope you remember this moment whenever you try to act like an asshole again.” 
The words were a slap in the face, and yet he wanted to laugh. As harsh as Seungmin’s words were, they rang true. He was a jerk and maybe, in the cruelest way possible, this was his karma. 
He opened his mouth to respond, but paused when your fingernails scratched at his hand. The tube in your throat caused you to choke. You couldn’t fully see as your eyes half-opened. Still swollen, your vision remained limited. Silhouettes appeared and voices became more distinct. 
“Get a nurse!” 
Footsteps hit the ground. You gargled and reached your opened mouth. “No, no, no! You can’t touch that yet.” 
“Easy, love. Try to relax and don’t fight the tube. It’s breathing for you right now.” 
The distress and quickened-pace of the heart rate monitor hit a hiccup. Chan’s familiar voice grounded you, but you still struggled with the tube. Your lungs wanted to expand, but the machine compressed them. You choked again, still fighting the pesky thing. 
More footsteps. Another silhouette. Glasses on an unfamiliar face and latex rubbing against your skin. “It’s okay, you’re safe. I’m going to take this out now, okay? On the count of three. One, two, three!” 
You gasped and coughed at the removal. Your lungs filled with air of your own accord. More coughing. You attempted to swallow, but your mouth was so dry. The lingering phantom of a headache filled the side of your head. 
“Try a sip of this, sweetheart.” 
The nurse’s tone was honey to your ears. You swallowed the water the moment it hit your lips. One swallow and then another. Two more and suddenly, you were gulping like crazy. 
“Easy, or you’ll choke,” Chan gently reminded you. 
The nurse pulled the glass away when you finished. “Do you know where you are?” 
“Hospital?” 
“Do you remember your name?” 
“Chan?” 
“I’m right here, honey. I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere. Do you remember your name? This nice nurse wants to help you get better. Your doctor is on his way.” 
Every question asked, you answered it perfectly. A buzz of excitement swirled around the room from your consciousness. Seungmin and Felix left the room to give everyone the good news. 
When the doctor concluded you were stable, he disappeared with the nurse. A silence fell between you and Chan. You still couldn’t see perfectly, but you could feel the weight of his hand in yours. 
“Baby, I’m so sorry for that night.” 
“I don’t want to talk about that night.” 
“I was an idiot.” 
“Dumbass,” you weakly corrected him. 
“I see getting hit by a semi-truck hasn’t taken away your sass.” 
“If I can survive this, I can survive anything.” 
“I love you and I’m sorry.” 
“Yeah, I love you and I don’t want to hear anything else about that. I’m so tired. Can you sing me to sleep or something?” 
“If I do, promise you won’t die?” 
“I promise.” 
Even if you couldn’t make out his face, you knew his voice, and that was good enough for you. 
| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |
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voxslays · 2 days ago
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SQUID GAMES MEN’S HOBBIES
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TLDR: What the squid games men would do with you for fun… A/N: I got bored so I binged all of season one in a day yesterday (I have a problem. I’m too obsessed with this show).
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HWANG IN-HO
❀ Coming up with ideas for the next games (and playing them). Don’t get me wrong, In-ho is a brilliant man—but sometimes even he gets stumped on new ideas for the games. But with you by his side, it all seems to come to him so much easier.
❀ Your imagination seems infinite, seeing as you come up with so many good ideas (glass bridge, mingle, etc). And when you’re done? You play them together with the guards just for funsies. You truly know how to make In-ho feel like a kid again.
THE SALESMAN (GONG YOO)
❀ Ddakji. Must I say more? This guy loves Ddakji so much it’s basically his job—well, that and recruiting people with money struggles or debt into a death game! But you don’t know that part yet.
❀ Although Gong-Yoo usually wins, it’s always fun to see your cute little faces when you’re focusing, or when you mess up. Unlike the slaps he usually gives to his elders (or anyone for that matter), when you mess up, all you have to do is give him a little kiss.
THANOS (CHOI SU-BONG)
❀ Thanos loves writing his raps with you. It takes him quite a while to write his songs—but with you it goes ten times faster. In Su-bong’s mind, you are his muse, and he usually sits in his studio, at his desk, with you on his lap.
❀ Thanos is usually the one to write the first lines, while you come up with the rhymes. According to Thanos, you are the smartest person he knows, so who better to help him with his rhyming? That, and he just loves any excuse for you to be on his lap (and cockwarm him).
KANG DAE-HO
❀ Cooking. Growing up with four older sisters, he learned a lot of ‘girly’ things (as his father would say) from them. From cooking to sewing, he can do it all! So really, it’s no surprise that every night he has off, he wants to help you cook.
❀ Dae-ho is also very helpful in the kitchen. If you’re stirring, he’s mixing. If you’re cutting, he’s mashing. With his help, you can get a meal with an hour preparation down to around a half hour. This man is crazy skilled, and not afraid to deviate from the recipe a bit.
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jjunbug · 3 days ago
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EEEEKKK THANK YOU SO MUCH ELLIE!!! (๑´ω`๑)♡♡ and i completely get you!! like don’t get me wrong, i love a good serial killer fic here and there but i love it even more when you can tell they’re so obsessed to the point of madness too!!
but hehe yes all the little details!!!!! i loved adding them in so you can really see how not only perfectionism looms over her but how also sunghoon does too! AND YES THE DOLLS!!! the way they literally are everywhere in their house no matter where you turn… you understand omg!!! his one way he can try to immortalize her in the only way that he really knows how in fear that it’ll one day all be gone!! like i need that level of obsession and devotion too omg.
but yes omg until dawn!!! i love that game so much and i’m so happy that i’m making references to it (even if it’s unintentional lmao)!!!!
OMG OMG OMG!!!! hehe you’re the first one to get that little bit of detail i added in the smut!!! like she doesn’t even realize that she just gave him the green light indirectly…. and YESSS in order to get what they both want they both end up losing!! AND YOURE LITERALLY THE ONLY PERSON TO MAKE THAT PARALLEL STOP!!!!!! hehehe that makes me so extremely happy that you caught it!! her in the beginning going “these days, you just wanted to be” and sunghoon saying “it just is” like that was really what made her stop fighting herself and give in!!
i’ve never heard of mad father, but i’ll definitely check it out after this!! and the song!!!! THE SONG??!!!?! it’s literally perfect. i’m immediately adding it to the playlist as soon as i can omg!!! and it’s so good too!! hehe i’m definitely gonna check out more of their songs!!! like wow omg i can’t get over how perfect this song is
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!! ♡♡ and hehe thank you for your kind words!! i was wondering how many people would notice all the little details i added, and most of you guys got them, but you REALLY got them omg!!! like i’m shaking with excitement that you noticed it hehe ^^ like don’t worry i’d LOVE to hear you fully dissect the story omg,,, i’m glad you liked this little messed up world i created!! i’m honestly still so obsessed with it too i’m really proud of this fic as a whole!!
THE DOLLMAKER ˒˒ 박성훈 ▸  𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲!
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you were sunghoon’s muse, his flawless, perfect wife that he dresses in frilly dresses and makes sure you always looked like the idealized woman. that much was evident from all the dolls he made of you that sat proudly throughout your home. but, when sunghoon isn’t there, the dolls move and show you things that would otherwise be hidden in the shadows. one day, they show you something so frightening, something completely sinister that you force yourself to believe that it isn’t real. your beloved husband wouldn’t do something like that, would he? you weren’t so sure about your answer anymore.
pairing ⸝⸝ park sunghoon 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦!
genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ established relationship, angsty & mature themes, smut, some fluff, husband & dollmaker!sunghoon, gothic vibes, supernatural elements
warnings ⸝⸝ dark content, heavy dubcon, dollification, mentions of murder and kidnapping, really creepy dolls, sunghoon is actually insane lmao, heavy gaslighting, possessiveness, unprotected sex, soft dom!sunghoon, heavy body worship, slow sex to rough sex and back to soft sex (you’ll see), manhandling, handjob, cumshots, clit stimulation, fingering, brief somnophilia, slight dacryphilia, mentions of oral (f. rec), praise, petnames (my love, darling, doll), hair pulling (m. rec), cockwarming, a lot of skinship, teasing, brief nipple play, mentions of aftercare, they are very very codependent, traditional marriage aspects
𝓴ipo’s note ⸝⸝ went a bit insane writing this because why is the smut scene alone 5.4k words??? but it’s finally here!! my first post on my new blog (that’s not part of a series) and my first darker content fic!! this was really fun to write and opened a primal lust within me for sunghoon that made me crazier… hehe enjoy loves!!
͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏  ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ❨ 14.8k ❩    ╱    ❨ 𝓶. list ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε`ʃƪ)♡
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You always strived to be nothing short of perfect, and you were immensely proud at the fact that you have never strayed from the path of the idealized woman in the eyes of their beholder.
And you were perfect. The perfect person, the perfect woman, the perfect wife. It was what you were born and bred to be, and with a smile you lived your life knowing that not a single frizzy strand of hair was out of place nor was there a single wrinkle in your dress. You were pretty, pristine, perfect. You’d ask for nothing more.
But, as the days started to pass—and your husband was out later and later for work—you started to hate the idea of perfection. You clawed at it like a noose wrapped around your pretty throat. Gone were the days where you’d be set alight with how well you presented yourself—with how much your husband loved to stare at you. These days, you just wanted to be.
In the beginning, you loved to be under Sunghoon’s watchful eye. You loved how he’d dress you in perfectly fitting clothes suited to what he loved to see you in—frills and lace. Loved how he’d fluff your hair if it was too flat or if it wasn’t up to his standard, or smooth down the fabric of your dress. You loved when he treated you like his perfect little doll. It meant the world to you, especially when it came from such an expert dollmaker like your husband himself. In his eyes, it meant you were the best of the best, that no other doll that he has made could compare—his perfect creation.
Now, the more you think about it, the more your throat closes up. But, as much as you’re growing to hate the idea, you just can’t let go of the deeply rooted perfectionism you still strive for. It’s as if it’s embedded in your skin, as if it’s in the marrow of your bones and in the blood that pumps through your veins. You don’t know how to live a life that isn't perfect, and at this point, you’re too scared to find out what that life entails.
So you put on the dress Sunghoon lays out for you before work and you style your hair just the way he likes it—and you be perfect. Because that is all you know how to do.
You stare at yourself in the mirror in your bathroom, your brows knitted together. Confusion spread throughout your body as you tried to put a name to what you were feeling. Disgust, maybe? Hatred? You didn’t know. Sighing softly to yourself, you picked up your makeup brush and dusted more of the blush onto your cheeks.
Sunghoon had already left for work, so it didn’t even really matter what you looked like right now. You stepped out of the bathroom and into your bedroom. Dolls of various sizes greeted your sight. Some had intricate and realistic outfits, the same ones that you wore, and some of them were more plainly dressed. There were dolls everywhere in your home, even some perched on the open shelves of your kitchen. It was a little girl’s dream home. The most unsettling thing about all the dolls around you no matter where you turned was how much every single one of them resembled you in some way.
It was as if Sunghoon could never quite capture your likeness exactly. With some dolls, their eyes were too big, their lips were too small, or the arch of their brow wasn’t quite right. Sometimes he couldn’t accurately carve the curve of your nose. You knew it drove him mad, not being able to immortalize you in his craft.
“You’re too flawless,” Sunghoon had told you once. You were laying in bed together and the tips of his fingers trailed along your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He used to always give you goosebumps, the good ones. Now it feels more like a chill down your spine.
You stared up at him from your pillow and watched as his eyes devoured your frame. His fingers twitched, briefly stopping their descent back down your arm, and you could tell he had the urge to test his hand at making you again. “I don’t think I’m flawless,” you smile at him, “I’m just as flawed as everyone else—just as human.”
Sunghoon’s gaze flicked up to your face, specifically to your smile, like he was committing it all to memory. He moved the hand that was trialing your shoulder up to cup your cheek. His thumb gently caressed the soft skin before he grazed it along your lips. There was a certain glint in Sunghoon’s eyes that you knew all too well.
“You’re flawless to me,” he stated. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip and pulled it down a little. You watched as his pupils dilated and the mix of lust and fascination that swirled in them grew. Ever so slightly, his eyes widened, too. Sunghoon moved his thumb down to your chin before leaning down to press his lips to yours.
He captured them with a certain roughness—the type that always shocked you with how gentle it initially seemed. Sunghoon’s hand grabbed your chin harder, his fingers creating soft indents into your skin as he leaned your head back and further into the pillow.
You were so moldable for Sunghoon, a shiny lump of clay ready for his skilled hands to turn you into a masterpiece. He hummed into the kiss and his teeth delicately bit down into the flesh of your bottom lip, only enough to not leave a mark. You moaned into his mouth, your arms raising to wrap around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer. In response, Sunghoon pulled his lips away from yours. He pressed feather light kisses to your cheek and up to the shell of your ear. “You’re my muse,” he whispered, before his head dipped to the crook of your neck to leave kisses there too.
You suppose that being so perfect wasn’t so bad if it meant that Sunghoon couldn’t keep his hands off of you—if it meant that he couldn't keep his hands off of his tools to try and remake you over and over again. Perhaps you were viewing it all wrong. Maybe it wasn’t a noose around your throat, but a pretty handmade necklace crafted by his nimble fingers. If it meant that Sunghoon never leaves, then you could be as perfect as he wanted forever. If it meant that he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he ever laid his eyes on, then you would be his doll for as long as you lived.
Maybe it wasn’t perfectionism at all, but an act of complete devotion—an act of love.
Sunghoon left open-mouthed kisses along your chest and moved further and further down until the lace of your lingerie blocked his lips from your skin. He pulled away from you fully and looked down at it like he was offended. You squirmed beneath him, your chest heaving as you tried to take in any air that you possibly could. “Please,” you inhaled, looking up at him desperately.
You weren’t quite sure what you were begging for exactly; maybe for his lips to be back on your skin, or maybe for him to quell the heat radiating from your body. “Please,” you said again, your voice coming out quieter and more forlorn.
Sunghoon ran his hands underneath the sheer fabric at your stomach and you gasped at his touch. “So soft,” he sighed contently, hands trailing further up until they physically couldn’t anymore and were blocked by the lace at your breasts. His calloused hands were a stark contrast to your velvety skin and the slight roughness made you shiver.
He pushed the sheer fabric up your stomach with the movement of his hands until the bottom half of your body was completely bare under him. Sunghoon must’ve decided that he couldn’t wait any longer, couldn’t bear to take the extra second to lift the lingerie over your head, because the harsh sound of fabric ripping filled your ears and the swift coldness of sudden exposure had you gasping again.
Sunghoon tossed the tattered fabric somewhere off to the side next to the two of you and in the corner of your eye you saw it fall to the floor below. His hands surged upwards, no longer bound by the restraints of your lingerie, and grabbed your breasts. Sunghoon’s thumbs rubbed against your hardened nipples and you arched your back off the mattress to give him more access. His hands dropped down to your thighs and he pushed them towards your stomach as he spread them further apart.
Sunghoon’s breath hitched when his eyes finally got a look at your glistening pussy, completely on display for him. His hand then moved from the back of your thigh and he dragged his fingers through your folds, collecting the slick on his fingertips. “Perfect,” Sunghoon breathed out.
Your husband liked to dissect things. He liked to break things apart and put them back together all shiny and new. It’s what he did to you every night—left you in a heap before cleaning you off and making you new again. You didn’t care, you just liked the feeling of his hands on you, even if its intention was to destroy. You knew that it was just a morbid curiosity. As long as he remained by your side, you were content in being a pile of doll parts for him to play with as he pleased.
In your bedroom, your eyes landed on a doll that wasn’t there when you had stepped into the bathroom. It sat in the center of your bed, dressed in the same lingerie that Sunghoon had ripped up. It didn’t look at you, but at the entrance of the room, with the hint of a smile that you knew was carved into the doll but couldn’t help but feel was mocking.
No matter how often it happened, you’ll never get used to the fact that the dolls moved around on their own. It only happened when you were home alone. The dolls never dared to move when their maker was home, but you still felt their eyes on you nonetheless. You had told Sunghoon about it—the two of you even waited around to see if one of them would move, but they never did. It was extremely frustrating.
You sighed at the doll and straightened your back. Leaving said doll where it was without a word, you left your room to put a start to your day.
What you weren't expecting was even more moved dolls in your kitchen. You stopped in your tracks as different, mini, and almost identical versions of you stared directly at you from the kitchen table in a circle. Usually it was only one doll that moved here and there, but this many moved dolls in the span of minutes was completely odd. Cautiously, you stalked towards them to see what they were surrounding.
It was the TV remote. You scoffed.
You grabbed the remote with a roll of your eyes. Aiming it towards the tiny box TV in the kitchen, you clicked it on and placed the remote back down onto the table next to the dolls. You let whatever channel it was left on play in the background as you started making breakfast for yourself.
“We’re here with the mother of one of those young girls today. Can you tell us a little about your daughter, ma’am?” you heard the news reporter ask. You took a pan out from under the lower cabinet and placed it onto the stove, ticking on the heat. You watched as a flame ignited, quick and large as lightning, before calming to something smaller.
A grief stricken voice filled your ears next between your soft humming. You didn’t realize that it was the tune Sunghoon always hummed when working from home—something he didn’t do as often anymore. “She was the most beautiful girl in the world—the most gentle and kind. She loved everyone and she loved love. My daughter was the single spark in this bleak night. Please, if you know where she is, please let a mother know.”
You moved about the kitchen, ignoring the way the dolls’ eyes seemed to follow your every move. Cracking the egg, you let it fall into the pan with a sizzle, fanning away the sudden smoke that rises. “The news station also has an anonymous tip hotline open for anyone who may know any information. The search for the six missing girls is still on. This Friday, the mayor will hold another search party and encourages everyone who can to join.”
Turning to throw away the shell of the egg, you caught a glimpse of the TV. “This has been—” You gasped, the shell falling to the tile below with a soft crack as your hand flew to cover your mouth. On the small screen were the pictures of the six missing girls—six missing girls who all looked eerily alike to one another, eerily alike to you. You rushed forward towards the screen, desperately needing to get a closer look at the girls’ image.
Fear and panic prickled at your skin and clawed its way up your throat. What if you were next? What if whoever was taking these girls had their eye on you to take next? You glanced around the kitchen, the dolls suddenly gone from the kitchen table and perched back in their rightful places on various shelves. What if one day you stepped out of your home to run an errand only to be met with a cloth to your nose and mouth?
You began to tremble as you focused your attention back onto the TV. Did the police have anything on who was taking the girls? Any physical descriptions or perhaps a drawing? You waited for the news to mention anything else, but they didn’t. 
Lightheaded, you felt yourself begin to spiral. Your hands grabbed tight to the kitchen counter as you tried to steady yourself and not let the fear cloud your mind. Maybe it was all a coincidence. Maybe you just happened to look like those girls but the perpetrator was after someone else. You inhaled sharply, trying to swallow down the fear and panic and let the oxygen get through instead.
The sudden loud ringing of the smoke alarm startled you and made you jump. The eggs. They were still on the stove! “Oh!” you breathed as you hurriedly moved to turn off the stove. You accidentally stepped on the egg shell in the process. “Oh no,” you said softly under your breath as you moved from the stove to the trash can. You scraped off the burnt eggs, your appetite suddenly gone. You sat the pan in the sink for you to wash later.
Bending down, you meticulously picked up the pieces of egg shells on the floor to throw away as well. When you turned from the trash, there was a singular doll back on the kitchen counter. You jumped again.
It pointed towards the hallway to get to your living room, unblinking. You stared at it for a moment—at yourself. Why were the dolls doing this? “Fine,” you say, smoothing out your dress, “I’ll play along.” You need a distraction from the missing girls anyhow.
You left the kitchen and made your way down the hallway that the doll pointed to. As you slowly made your way down it, you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary besides the way the various dolls’ eyes followed you. You make the bend to the end of the hallway and freeze.
At the end of the hallway was the displayed dollhouse that you didn’t touch. Sunghoon didn’t even let you clean it, opting to clean it himself. It meant a lot to him and he took great care for it to be in as pristine condition as possible. The dollhouse was a perfect replica of your home, down to the welcome sign you weaved on the front of the door. You’ve never even seen the inside of it… until now.
There was a crowd of dolls on the ground below it, more than you’ve ever seen moved before, pointing up at the scene portrayed in it. Swallowing thickly, you stepped further forward as a chill ran down your back.
In the dollhouse were only three dolls: one of you, one of Sunghoon, and one that you couldn’t even begin to understand what it could be. You took another cautious step forward, leaning in to get a better look and taking care to not step on any of the dolls. The scene depicted in the dollhouse was quite simple. You were upstairs in you and Sunghoon bedroom, asleep. Sunghoon was in some room you’ve never seen before, carving away at a doll that you could only assume was of you. Behind him was the other doll, covered in different, mismatched layers of fabric. It was so covered by copious amounts of fabric that it didn’t even seem to have the body of a doll anymore. It was almost grotesque looking, in a way.
Very quietly, almost indistinct, you heard the same melody Sunghoon hums when working. Your eyes widened in shock as you furiously tried to digest and decipher the scene. You shook your head a little. “I don’t understand,” you say, the confusion dripping from your voice. “What does this mean? What is that behind him?”
There was a creaking behind you and you swung around at the sound. More dolls were behind you, pointing. You weren’t sure if they were pointing at you or the dollhouse. Maybe it was both. You swung back around to the dollhouse when you heard something move.
Now Sunghoon was in front of the other fabric-covered doll. His doll was slightly bent at the torso and his head was tilted. The thin, wire-framed glasses he wears sat low on his nose bridge. You knew that look—that inspecting look. That morbid curiosity. It felt as if the dolls were screaming at you, “Do you understand now?” You still weren’t sure that you did. Too many puzzle pieces were missing from the board and it hindered you from seeing the whole picture. The sound of Sunghoon’s humming still filled your ears and you didn’t know what to do to stop it.
More creaking and you turned to look behind you. More dolls. They filled the entire hallway, their tiny fingers pointing at you, trying to force you to understand what they were trying to show you. Behind you, the dollhouse began to violently shake and you gasped as you looked at it. Sunghoon was now back in the bedroom with you. He stood over you, his hand hovering over your arm. You knew the action it was trying to convey—you could feel the tips of his fingers trailing up and down your actual arm now, making you shiver.
You stumbled backwards, even more confused and scared at the shaking dollhouse. The front of the dollhouse slammed shut, locking in the scene of you and Sunghoon inside, and stilled. Your chest rose and fell heavily and you clumsily stumbled your way out of the hallway and into the living room, avoiding any pointing doll that you could.
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Later that day when Sunghoon came home from work, you didn’t mention the moving dolls or the dollhouse. It was as if nothing happened at all, every doll was where he placed them and the dollhouse was just as pristine as he left it. You especially didn’t dare mention the scenes depicted in the dollhouse. You feared your husband would think you were crazy.
You carried the plate of hot food to where Sunghoon sat at the kitchen table. “Eat up!” you smiled placing the plate in front of him before placing a chaste kiss to his cheek. You felt him smile before you pulled away. You were turning to make yourself a plate when Sunghoon grabbed your wrist to stop you. You jumped, a gasp slipping between your lips. Trying to cover it all up, you turned back to Sunghoon with a smile.
His own smile faltered and his thick brows drew together. “Thank you, darling…” he trailed, the words falling from his lips one by one. “What’s wrong? You’re never so jumpy.”
You’d been jumpy since he got home, still shaken from the morning’s encounter. It was so bad that you nearly burnt yourself on the stove while making dinner, suddenly startled by the sound of the front door opening and Sunghoon returning home from work. When he kissed you hello, his arms coming to wrap around you, you jumped then too. You tried to distract him with your smile, but you should’ve known that nothing gets past your husband.
“It’s nothing,” you say, smiling again and giving him a slight shake of your head. “I guess my body is just getting used to not being by itself now that you’re home.”
Sunghoon sighed and pulled you back towards him by your wrist. You let yourself be pulled into his lap. Sunghoon buried his head in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry,” he says, his words coming out muffled. “I know I've been working more and more lately and I haven’t had much time for you.”
You leaned into his touch, sighing contentedly. “Can’t you work from home?” you asked meekly, voice barely louder than a whisper, “Like you used to? You work so much and you’re always gone. I miss you when you’re not here, and in return I’m sad the whole day.”
Sunghoon’s black hair tickled you as he lifted his head to press his lips to your neck, right where the thumping of your heart could be felt. His eyes met yours and the gentle pout of your lips. “I don’t have all the tools here that I do at the shop,” Sunghoon responded. When you sighed again and looked away, he continued. “But, I might be able to work from here tomorrow… I already finished most of the workload. We can spend tomorrow together, what do you say to that?”
You glanced back at him, trying to not let the happiness you felt break through your sulky demeanor. Clearly, it didn’t work, because the smile returned back to Sunghoon’s face even larger this time. “I suppose that’s okay,” you grumbled, the smile tugging more at your lips by the second.
Sunghoon chuckled, “Yeah?” You nodded, giggling at the way he dragged his nose along your cheek and the coldness of his glasses. “I love that sound,” he says, holding you closer. “I want to hear it forever.” He pulled away from you just enough to get a good look at your flustered face. Sunghoon brought his lips to yours, capturing them in a sweet and slow kiss.
Giggling more into the kiss, you broke away from him with great effort. “Eat,” you say, standing to your feet. Sunghoon didn’t let you get far. “We have a big day tomorrow.”
“Your dinner smells amazing, my love, but I think I want something else on the menu,” Sunghoon replies. You swatted him with the kitchen towel hanging from the pocket of your apron, your mouth falling into an open-mouthed laugh. Sunghoon just laughed more. “Do what I said,” you scolded him.
Sunghoon pulled you down to chastely kiss your lips. “Yes, ma’am.”
That night as you were getting ready for bed, you gathered all the courage you had. As you moved about your bedroom, Sunghoon watched you from the bed, his eyes trailing your figure and never leaving it. He was lounged up against the bed frame, his head tilted and the wire frames of his glasses low on his nose bridge as he stared. You were in the middle of brushing your hair, trying your best not to get crushed underneath his heavy stare. You were as bare as you could be without taking your clothes off.
When you stood from your vanity, the flowy fabric of your short nightgown moving with you, you met his gaze. For a moment, neither of you spoke and you just stared at each other. “Those missing girls…” you started, finally finding your voice, “on the news… Isn’t it odd that they favor me?” Your voice shook slightly and you swallowed down the lump forming in your throat.
Sunghoon sat up straighter, his eyes still on you as his brows drew together. You looked away, shakily climbing into the bed next to him. “I-I mean… how they favor each other. And I favor them too, don’t you think?” you continue. You really hoped that you didn’t sound crazy. That your time alone in the house hasn’t started to drive you mad and see things that aren’t there—that aren’t true. Finally getting settled as the words poured from your mouth, you looked over to him. For a split second, his face was completely devoid of anything—no emotion, not even a quirk of his eyebrow, nothing. Then, in a blink of an eye, his face was how it was before you looked away from him. Maybe you were crazy after all.
“I’m scared, Sunghoon,” you said in the gentlest whisper, “What if I’m next?”
“Missing girls?” Sunghoon says, “I’ve heard about them. But, don’t worry—” he reached over to caress your cheek “—I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re safe here, with me.” His hand on your cheek trailed down to the crook of your neck and then to your shoulder before he pulled you towards him. The two of you laid down onto the bed and Sunghoon enveloped you completely in his arms. You rested your head on his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “No one but me will ever touch you,” Sunghoon muttered against your hair.
His comforting words did nothing to dispose of the uneasy feeling you still harbored. The images of those missing girls were burned into your mind and every time you tried to close your eyes and sleep, you saw them staring back at you. While Sunghoon fell fast asleep, him still keeping you protectively in his arms, you lied awake.
Your mind shifted from the missing girls, to the moving dolls, and to the dollhouse. What did it all mean? What were they trying to tell you? You went over the scenes portrayed over and over and over again and still didn’t get it. The answer seemed so close, but so far away at the same time. What were you missing?
You thought about the scene of Sunghoon standing over you while you slept. Did he always do that, stare at you like that? How often did he do it? You wanted to ask him, but you didn’t want to risk him thinking there was something wrong with you—didn’t want to risk him thinking that you weren’t flawless like he believes. And the way he trailed his fingers over the soft skin of your arm… Perhaps it was just him checking on you. Maybe he left the room for some water and when he came back he was making sure you were okay. Yeah, that sounded logical.
Him touching you wasn’t something new—he always touched you at any chance that he could. Always admiring every curve and plane of you completely, it’s normal for him to do so. The tension in your shoulders finally dissipated and you relaxed, snuggling more into Sunghoon as you let your tired eyes flutter closed. You didn’t know what the dolls’ game was, but you didn’t like it. Sunghoon was just being a good husband, is all. It even showed subconsciously in the way his hold on you tightened as you leaned into him. He loves you. He’d never do anything that came remotely close to hurting you, ever. You were more sure about that than you were sure about anything in the entire world.
Slowly, you began to drift off—your body getting heavier and heavier in his arms—and you let sleep overtake you.
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A couple hours later, you were suddenly awoken by the sound of something falling onto the hardwood floor. You jumped, eyes flying open. You were met with the cold bed, Sunghoon nowhere to be found in your bedroom. Sitting up, you looked around the room to see what fell.
You sighed as your gaze landed on the doll, it was laying on its side on the ground, staring at you. “Enough,” you said lowly, another sigh pulling from deep within you. “I don’t know what you all want from me.”
The moonlight peeked into your bedroom through the curtains and gave a little light to see with in the dark. You slipped from the bed, deciding to see where Sunghoon was. Smoothing down your bedridden hair and wrinkly nightgown, you opened the door to your bedroom and was immediately met with another mini doll version of you waiting by the top of the stairs. You couldn’t keep doing this.
You passed the shelves on the wall filled with dolls of you and other trinkets as you made your way towards the stairs. You didn’t even give the doll a second look as you made your descent down them.
Sunghoon wasn’t in the kitchen either, but there was another doll there, pointing down the hall again. You tilted your head up at it and followed its directions. He wasn’t in the lounge room or the dining room either. You turned the corner in the hallway and your eyes landed on the closed dollhouse. It was backlit by the hallway sconce, the light making the dollhouse look illuminated.
You dipped into the living room and Sunghoon wasn’t there either. None of the bathrooms were occupied as well. You were convinced that he just wasn’t in the house at all. You stood in front of the dollhouse, annoyance coming off you like steam. Your arms were folded across your chest and you glared at it. It was closed this time, and you were deciding on whether it was not to play into the dolls’ game and open it or just go back to sleep and question Sunghoon in the morning. Alas, you were too curious for your own good.
You slowly opened the front of the dollhouse, expecting to see some confusing scene waiting for you inside. Instead, there was only one doll inside—the grotesque looking one covered in different scraps of fabric. It was in the same exact place that it was in earlier, except this time there was no doll of Sunghoon inspecting it. It was alone.
Taking a closer look, you tried to figure out where this mystery room supposedly was in your home. In the dollhouse, it was located between the living room and the hallway bathroom. You looked at the hallway you were currently standing in with its own mini dollhouse inside. Your brows knitted together in even more confusion. According to the dollhouse, the room should be right where you were standing.
That couldn’t be right, unless the room was in front of you and behind the wall where the dollhouse was displayed. Closing the front of the dollhouse, you moved closer to the wall, inspecting it. There was no outline of a suspected door, no uneven floorboards that could suggest the entrance was underneath you. There was only the hallway, the small bookshelf filled with your cookbooks and Sunghoon’s doll making books, and the dollhouse. You placed your ear against the wall; maybe if there was a room behind it you could hear something.
After a few moments, you almost gave up, deciding not to play the game anymore and just go to bed. But, right when you were about to lift your ear from the wall, you heard something—humming.
It was the same tune you hummed earlier, the same tune Sunghoon hums when working. The same tune Sunghoon hummed when the dolls showed you him working in the dollhouse. This time, you knew it was real. You stumbled backwards from the wall, your elbow knocking the doll over that was suddenly perched there. You gasped before quickly covering your mouth.
Frozen in fear, you swear you heard the humming abruptly stop. You then heard slight creaking, like someone was walking towards you. Scurrying back around the curve of the hallway, you peaked around it to see if anything else would happen.
What if Sunghoon wasn’t even in there. What if it was some stranger living in your walls, and you were just assuming that it was him—that the dolls thought it was him. Or, maybe they were trying to warn you of the stranger in a way that they knew you would listen. What if Sunghoon wasn’t in the house at all right now? Your hand pressed harder into the wall and you began to shake.
More creaking broke through the air, and you watched as the small bookshelf slowly began to push off the wall like a make-shift door. You ducked further behind the wall, just enough to ensure you weren’t seen. You saw a shadow dancing across the floor as the bookshelf slowly closed again.
You were so scared they could hear how fast your heart was beating. So sure that they could feel how hard you trembled through the floor. Hear your heavy breathing like a hawk listening for its prey.
The shadow got larger and you saw a figure start to be illuminated by the light on the wall. A hand reached from the shadows and towards the doll of you that had fallen over—Sunghoon’s hand. He stepped into the light and you could finally see him clearly; saw the way the warm light bounced off his skin, the way the light reflected off his glasses, and how his dark hair fell into his eyes. You pressed your fist to your mouth to keep quiet.
Why did Sunghoon have a secret room in the house? Why did he never tell you about it?
He fixed the doll; shifting its dress so it laid properly and flattened its messed up hair. You saw the corners of his mouth raise as he placed the doll back on the shelf above the dollhouse. It’s big eyes bored into you.
Without a sound, you made your way back to your bedroom as quickly as you could. You closed your bedroom door silently and slipped back into bed, willing your body to stop shaking and your breath to even out. You closed your eyes.
You tried to remember what the inside of the secret room looked like from the dollhouse. From what you could remember, it looked to be some sort of workshop, similar to the one Sunghoon would have at the shop. If it was just a simple place for him to carve dolls, why hide it? It was possible he kept it hidden so you wouldn’t worry about how much he was working. Sunghoon knew how much you disliked him getting obsessed with his work, always carving and shaping dolls until the tips of his fingers were scarred. You relaxed again.
You’d be upset and worried, yes, but he didn’t have to hide it from you. You would understand his dedication to his craft.
A couple moments later, you heard the door knob twist. As you heard Sunghoon’s footsteps near you, you hoped you looked like you were still asleep. His presence covered you like a blanket. Just before you could feel the heat of his fingertips on your skin, you turned to look at him.
With false sleepiness in your voice, you ask, “Why are you out of bed?”
Sunghoon smiled down at you, lightly shaking his head. His hand caressed your shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, my love. I was just getting a jumpstart on work so we could have more time together. Go back to sleep.” His voice was soft and gentle, like he was trying to lull you back to sleep with his voice alone.
You sat up more. “Well, I’m not tired anymore,” you say, a smile pulling at your lips. Sunghoon’s hand at your shoulder raised to smooth your hair before coming to your chin to lift it up. He leaned forward and delicately pressed a kiss to your lips. “No?” he asked in that same soft and gentle voice.
Sunghoon was already climbing on the bed and on top of you before finishing his question. He placed more delicate kisses around the edges of your mouth, his hands dipping lower. You shook your head. His hands slowly lifted your nightgown up your stomach. “You’re sure you aren’t tired anymore?” Sunghoon asked, the corner of his mouth raising ever so slightly. He was lifting the nightgown over your head so you were in nothing but your panties underneath him.
Light giggles left your mouth as you shook your head again, “Yes.”
Sunghoon’s fingers hooked underneath the hem of your panties and he slowly pulled them down your thighs. His eyes were completely focused on the way each tug revealed more and more of your cunt and how it glistened with the strips of moonlight coming through the window. You heard him exhale softly, like he couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. “Fuck…” he muttered lowly, “I don’t think I’ll ever get use to seeing this, and it’s all for me to admire.”
He fully pulled your panties off and tossed them somewhere to the side of the bed. Sunghoon spread your legs open and pushed them up towards your chest so he got an even clearer view—just like he always did before taking you apart. He moved his hands so they splayed out on the back of your thighs right near your pussy he was still admiring. You squirmed a little, the air suddenly cold on your skin and from laying there completely open for him as you waited. “Entirely,” you said hushed, looking up at him. His glasses reflected the moonlight and covered the look in his eyes. “It will always be all for you—I’ll always be all, entirely yours.”
You gasped, body jolting when a thumb was pressed into your eager cunt. Sunghoon ran his thumb along your folds, collecting the gathering slick that was forming by the second. Bringing his other thumb to your cunt, he spread you apart even more, like he wanted to watch the arousal drip out of you himself. A soft whine left your lips. You were completely naked and under your husband’s watchful eye while Sunghoon was still completely dressed. He hasn’t even pulled his pajama pants down despite the way you saw him strain against the thin fabric.
“Is that so?” Sunghoon asked, his gaze finally flicking up to you. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards and you inhaled sharply when you finally saw that all too familiar dark look in his eyes. It reminded you of the way people dissected animals, excited to see its insides and how the body worked. Just beneath it you saw his intensely desperate, fiery hot need for you. The two expressions folded on top of each other over and over like an endless piece of paper, like he couldn’t decide what made him more excited. But, you knew which one would win tonight—which one always won.
You nodded slowly at his question. After all, no matter how bitter the idea of perfection tasted in your mouth, it was nothing compared to the sweetness of your husband’s love. It overshadowed everything, clouded your mind until you could think of nothing else. You lived for it, you’d do anything for it—to keep it. And Sunghoon, he loved you for it. So, the cycle continued until you forgot what the bitter aftertaste even belonged to.
Was it so wrong for you to love the suffocating attention he gave you once he wasn’t busy? Maybe. Maybe you should feel some shame for how obsessed you were with Sunghoon. But, at least you knew the feeling was mutual. If it weren’t, you wouldn’t be surrounded by a house full of dolls that looked nearly identical to you made all by his hands. Right? Doll making was a labor of love, and Sunghoon never shied away from showing you how much he loved you.
Sunghoon leaned over you. You felt his arms brush against your thighs as he pushed his soft pajama pants down. His face hovered over yours and you stared at him with big, doe eyes. His lips brushed against yours, pulling away slightly when you tried to chase them. Sunghoon tossed his pants and boxers to the side and you felt his cock slap against your thigh, sending a wave of arousal throughout your entire body. The entire time, Sunghoon’s eyes never left yours. “Like my own, personal little doll,” he continued, his voice low. “The real thing, not any of these flawed imitations. Complete perfection, and all under my hands to do with as I see fit.”
His lips captured yours in an unexpectedly rough, hungry kiss. He moved further over you until his body shadowed you. His hands were on either side of your head as he pinned you to the bed with his body, the kiss deepening and growing hungrier. Sunghoon pulled away from you, lips plumped and wet with saliva that still connected his lips to yours. He tenderly caressed your cheek and asked, “Do you know how much I love you?”
With his other hand, Sunghoon grabbed his cock so he could line himself up with your entrance. He quirked a thick eyebrow as he waited for your answer, eyes trailing the way your chest rose and fell heavily and your breasts pushed more against his own chest. “How much,” he continued, slowly slipping the tip of his cock inside you, “I’d do for you? How I’d do anything?” Your mouth fell open as your back arched slightly at the action. Sunghoon’s gaze returned to you, his hips halting once his thick tip was completely inside you. “Do you?” Sunghoon asked you once again, his heavy gaze weighing down on you.
Your husband liked to dissect things. He liked to break things apart and put them back together all shiny and new. It’s what he couldn’t help but do to you every night. It was the only time he liked you to be messy, when you were laying in a heap of doll parts beneath him. He tried to be gentle with his curiosity, he really did, but it was as if something overtook him. That dark look in his eyes got bolder until he couldn’t hold himself back—until he just had to tear you apart. You used to be scared every time it happened, still not learning to expect it. You should be ashamed that you did let it happen. But, as time went on, you began to like being taken apart; began liking how each time you’d blink away the fog, you were more perfect in his eyes.
Nodding, you inhaled deeply. “I do,” you say quietly, meeting his swirling dark stare. “And I love you just as much. I’d do just as much.”
“No,” Sunghoon spoke plainly. You drew your brows together, confused. “The way I love you, it’s… cavernous. Deep and dark—pitch-black. There is no end, no beginning, it just is.” His hand trailed down to your chin. “It consumes me, my love for you. I can’t control it… I can’t control the things I’d do to ensure you’ll always love me. And you will… won’t you? Always love me?” Sunghoon asked, his eyes boring into yours.
“Yes,” you say meekly. Despite the way Sunghoon’s body blocked the little light in the room, you could still see the way he fought the darkness inside of him. “I’ll forever love you. There’s nothing that would ever change that, Sunghoon. I promise.”
Sunghoon’s body relaxed over you, and his eyes briefly fluttered shut as he shakily breathed in to further calm himself. “Good…” he muttered, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear despite him being so close. “Because sometimes… The thought of you no longer loving me… i-it drives me completely insane.” His grip on your chin tightened and he bent down to sloppily kiss your lips. Sunghoon’s lips slowly worked against yours, like he was using you to calm himself even more. Like he was basking in your love for him like you did with his love for you.
He pulled away, just enough that with each word from his mouth, his lips brushed against yours. “It makes me want to rip you limb from limb. Polish all the parts so you can see it—see how much my love for you breaks me apart.” With a harsh thrust, Sunghoon pushed himself into you completely. You cried out, the sound being muffled by his lips so close to yours. Your nails dug into his shoulders at the action. Sunghoon pulled out of you until just the fat tip of his cock remained inside. With each word, he thrusted into you. “My sweet love, my perfect wife, my doll.”
Loud gasps rang from your mouth and Sunghoon took your hands from his shoulders and pinned them above your head with one of his own. His eyes never once left yours. He wanted to see how you cracked and shattered beneath him. He wanted to witness it. Sunghoon trailed his other hand down the side of your face, his thumb running over the soft skin of your cheek before it moved closer to your mouth. His eyes shined when he dipped his thumb into your mouth and you eagerly swirled your tongue around it, his own mouth opening. Sunghoon’s pace slowed as if he was remembering himself. The languid strokes drove you crazy and your hips lifted off the bed to gain more friction.
It was a constant back and forth of back to back harsh thrusts that felt like it was splitting you open to slow, sweet thrusts that had you begging for more. With your arms pinned about you, you couldn’t even really move besides the slight lift of your hips, and they could only lift so high with how close Sunghoon pressed himself into you. He had complete control over you; over how you moved, how deeply and at what pace you felt him, and over what sounds you made with his thumb in your mouth. Your eyes began to get glassy with how much you wanted him.
You guessed that you liked being used—liked being his toy, his plaything. You guessed that you liked feeling desired, feeling like his doll. You glanced around your bedroom, back arching and loud, unashamed moans falling from your lips at the way Sunghoon fucked you. It felt as if every single doll was looking at you, watching you. Watched you succumb to your husband and watched as the cracks in your porcelain body began to crumble. Watched how you loved every second of it. How wet it made you to the point that Sunghoon was slipping in and out of you with ease and how the vulgar gushing sounds bounced off the walls.
Sunghoon’s pace slowed and he watched how his cock slowly disappeared into you before he slowly pulled it back out and examined how it dripped with your arousal. A soft chuckle left his parted lips as he did it over and over. You clawed at his arm still holding yours above your head, a loud whine came from the bottom of your throat and your body shifted in any way that it could to feel him deeper, to have his cock drag against your walls faster.
He replaced his wet thumb with his mouth, completely silencing your moans and whines. Sunghoon’s mouth worked slowly against yours once again, soft groans vibrating against your lips as he kissed you.
“You feel so good,” Sunghoon whined, barely able to get his words out before his lips were back on yours. He let out another moan, his shallow strokes growing quicker. “Taking everything I give you so well, my love. It’s like your body was made for mine.” Sunghoon finally let go of your arms, giving your body some space as his lips traveled down to your chest. He left wet kisses all over it, teasingly kissing around your perked nipples while you dragged your hands through his hair and pulled at the tips of the strands. Everytime his lips touched your skin it felt like white-hot coals were being placed on you where they touched. Sunghoon looked up at you over the rim of his glasses, lips pressed to your skin with a hint of a smile. “Do you feel good, darling?”
Sunghoon’s hips picked up speed, just barely, but enough to make your head spin wildly. His pace was agonizing and you were sure your frustration showed in how you tugged harder at his hair and pulled his head back and the way your hips pathetically raised to meet his. Sunghoon’s mouth opened and he let out a laugh. “Please,” you begged him, your eyes filled with unfallen tears, “please.”
He sat up, lips brushing against your skin one last time before he pulled away. Sunghoon pushed down on your hips with his hands to stop them from moving, his own still continuing at that agonizing pace. “Please, what?” he asked, head tilted to the side as he watched you squirm beneath him and claw at the bedsheets. “What are you begging me to do to you?”
You whined when his hands moved up to your waist and sent tingles throughout your body. Through your blurry, tear-filled eyes you could see his smile. Pitiful moans escaped your mouth and your chest rose and fell so heavily you would’ve thought you weren’t breathing at all—instead trying to gasp in gulps of breath. “Please,” you begged again. Sunghoon inhaled sharply at the way you clenched down on him, at how your whiny moans filled his ears and the way the corners of your eyes flooded with tears. He halted his movements and pulled out of you completely.
“No, no, no!” you cried and leaned up to reach for him. He pushed you back down to the bed gently. Sunghoon’s own breathing picked up as his wet cock hovered over you. He took one of your hands in his and guided it towards it. “I’ll continue once you can tell me—” his breath hitched once your hand wrapped around his thick length “—what you want.” Sunghoon guided your hand up and down his cock slowly, his hand tightening on top of yours so you squeezed him more. His breath shuddered as he watched your hand work, his stomach tightening every time your hand squeezed his mushroom tip. He moaned again at how easily your hand slipped over him from your arousal, and his moans grew louder when he’d move his hips to force your hand back down his length again and again.
“Tell me…” he breathed out, his eyes fluttering closed, once you still didn’t give him an answer. Sunghoon’s hands laid flat against the back of your thighs—right next to where you needed him the most.
“I… I-I want you…” you stuttered out, voice small. Sunghoon hummed in question, bringing his thumb to your clit. He rubbed circles into it at the same speed he moved his hips. You gasped, back involuntarily arching off the bed. Your hand paused mid-stroke of his cock before his hips rutting against it stirred you back into action. “Closer…” Sunghoon says through a grunt, “but, I’m going to need more than that from you, my love. Don’t you want to be good for me and do what I asked?”
A soft whine left his lips when you squeezed a little too much at the base of his cock. “I want to hear those pretty moans of yours as I fuck you with my cock… see your pretty face as you cum around it. Won’t you give that to me? Do you really want to settle for my fingers tonight, darling?” Sunghoon continued.
How could you tell him what you really wanted? Explain the deepest desire that you had right now? He told you about his inner battle with how much his love for you consumes him. He told you the things that it made him want to do. You wanted him to let go and do it. You wanted him to wipe you clean so you watched it all—saw it all. Enough with holding back—like he tried to do every single night without fail. It was no use when you both knew what was coming. You wanted him to lose control. You wanted that swirling darkness in his eyes to take over. You wanted him to do what he said he wanted to do if you didn’t feel the same way he felt about you. How do you express that to him?
“Do it…” you say, your words coming out strained. A sweet moan left your mouth and you looked him dead in the eyes as the tears finally slid down your hot cheeks. “I w-want you… to do it.” Your voice was just above a whisper, loud enough that only his ears could hear your words despite being the only two people in the entire house. You squeezed down onto his thick cock more as your wrist worked harder. The hand he wasn’t using to rub circles into your puffy clit grabbed your thigh tighter, his fingers surely leaving indents into the plush skin. Sunghoon’s head hung lowly as he tore his gaze away from yours and went back to watching your hand.
Sunghoon plunged two fingers deep inside your dripping entrance and you felt like you could finally feel the oxygen reach your lungs. He pushed them in and out of you, his gaze flicking over to his movements instead of yours to relish in the way his fingers came back out more and more wet. As his fingers curled inside you, causing breathy moans to leave your willing lips, you watched the way his stomach tensed and his hips faltered. Without saying a word, you could tell what was running through his mind right now. You could see his eyes grow more and more darker, fill up more and more with desire. Sunghoon finally looked back up at you, his wire-framed glasses low on his nose bridge. “Do what?” he asks, his voice just as quiet as yours was.
You didn’t have to say anything else. Sunghoon’s hips froze and his stomach tightened even more as a pretty moan ripped straight through him. His eyes fluttered shut, his fingering waned and you lifted your hips to chase his hand. Sunghoon’s warm cum shot all over your stomach and splattered up to your breasts in thick spurts. He let out another moan, this one dragging out from deep within him as his body finally relaxed. You helped him through it all—hand never stopping as he rode out his high and marked more of your stomach with his cum until you were painted a creamy white and he was completely empty.
His eyes blinked open and he looked down at how messy you were. Something in his demeanor shifted as his eyes grazed over you and you couldn’t tell what had changed until he looked at you. You inhaled sharply at his stare, your breathing picking up. His own chest still heaved from his recent release. Sunghoon took his wet fingers out from your cunt, taking a moment to drag them through your folds to spread your arousal even more, all while his eyes never left yours. Gone were the barriers that held him back, that darkness took him over full force.
Meek whimpers escaped your lips and you dug your nails into the bedsheet beneath you. “You like being my doll, don’t you?” Sunghoon asks. His voice was almost flat, and he was still speaking in that hushed tone. His expression was decidedly blank except for the subtle way his brows drew together. “Don’t you?” he asked a little louder when you didn’t answer him. His hands squeezed the back of your thighs and his fingers dug into the soft skin there. You timidly nodded, not daring to look away.
His hands relaxed and his thumbs brushed over where his fingers dug into you comfortingly, his eyes finally leaving yours. Sunghoon grabbed his cock and rubbed his flushed tip in between your folds, the wet sounds it made piercing the silent bedroom. “You know,” he starts, his voice no longer so low, “you really are truly flawless, doll. My muse…”
Sunghoon is already slipping back inside you before you can process the way his thick cock completely stretches you open. You cry out as more unshed tears fall from your eyes. He continues, “It angers me how much I can’t capture you fully. How none of these dolls can compare to the real thing—the real you. It makes me… so angry…”
He’s pulling back his hips as he speaks, the tip of his cock just barely leaving your pussy, before he roughly thrusts his cock back inside of you. Another loud moan emits from you and your vision blurs from more tears as your face gets hot. You could barely hear Sunghoon’s wry laugh over the sudden ringing in your ears.
Sunghoon’s pace is brutal, and you’re suddenly regretting whining so much about how slow he was once going. It gave you whiplash, how fast he fucked into you, and the only thing you could do to keep yourself grounded is tightly wrap your hands around his wrists at your hips. Your arms smeared and got sticky with his cum but you didn’t care. With each thrust, your body shook and pushed you further into the mattress. With your iron-clad grip on Sunghoon’s wrists, your tits pushed together and bounced in accordance with his hips against yours. Sunghoon was fucking you like he wanted to break you in half.
“S-Slo—” you tried to speak but was cut off by the waves of sudden pleasure hitting you one after the other. Sunghoon just shushed you, his hands pulling your hips towards his so you’d feel him deeper. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you couldn’t think about anything other than the way he was making you feel so, so good. You wanted to feel this way forever. Wanted him to stay lost so you never escaped this feeling of immense pleasure. Wanted him to use you to take out his anger at himself—at you—like you meant absolutely nothing, just a doll for him to handle and put back in its place.
You adore it, the way he makes you feel.
Such nasty sounds fill the air, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care about it. If anything, it turned you on more just how loud and demanding to be heard it was. With how much the sounds of the sex the two of you were having penetrated your ears, you would’ve thought that you’d be getting multiple noise complaints at any moment. You both definitely weren’t trying to be quiet in the slightest.
Between your moans, you heard Sunghoon speak. “I want to take you apart, carve into you like I do my dolls, but this time make something real. Have you be so perfect forever.” His voice was almost scarily plain, like he thought this over time and time again before. You blinked away tears and finally got a clear view of him and the way he stared down at you with a hint of a smile, head tilted as he watched you crack and begin to fall into yourself. “Forever my perfect little doll, to bend—” he pushed your knees closer to your chest so you were practically folded in half “—and to break—” he roughly thrusted into you once more, his hint of a smile growing into a smirk as you clenched down on him “—and to put back together and play with as I please.”
“Sunghoon,” you sobbed as your stomach tightened and you started to shake. You didn’t get the chance to get another word out before you were violently orgasming, your cum pouring out of you and leaving a white ring around the base of Sunghoon’s cock as he roughly fucked it back into you. Wet, gushing sounds came from his cock plowing into your pussy and your cum poured out from around him and down the curve of your ass. You could scream at the sudden overstimulation.
“That’s my girl,” Sunghoon says as he watched you shatter. He used your hands still limply wrapped around his wrists to pull you up off the bed and halfway into his lap, his cock still buried within you. One of his hands supported your back and the other came to wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Pretty dolls don’t cry.”
Sunghoon brought your hands to his shoulders and you held tightly onto the soft fabric of his shirt. His own hands dragged down the expanse of your stomach and he wrapped one of his arms around your back. Sunghoon lowered his head so he could look you in your eyes, his free hand lifting your chin to raise your head more. “I love you,” he murmured, pausing a beat to make sure you heard him, before roughly moving his lips against yours and cutting off one of your watery whines.
Your hands moved from Sunghoon’s shoulders to wrap around his neck and pull him closer to you. You deepened the kiss, letting Sunghoon open your mouth so his tongue could slip in and dance with yours. You’d give anything to keep his lips on yours forever.
Sunghoon began to thrust into you again, his hips moving slow at first before they rapidly picked up pace. You moaned against his lips, your eyes squeezing shut. You felt Sunghoon’s lips pull into a smile, “I love you so much.” He said it like it was a confession.
Head falling into the crook of his neck, you cling to him tighter with your last remaining strength and whimper into his warm skin. Your body shook all over until it felt like you might explode. It felt like Sunghoon kept repeatedly turning and turning the winding key in your back, going way beyond the motor’s limitations. It made you nervous for when he would let go and you would burst into action.
His deep moans and grunts rang in your ear and his arm around your back tightened. With his other hand, he pulled you back so he could look at you. Your face was tear-streaked, splotchy with drying tears and you tried to not cry even more. Your brows were knitted together from the overstimulation and whimpers fell from your lips. Sunghoon’s cum stuck to your stomach and your forearms and parts of his shirt, your own cum covered your pussy and Sunghoon’s cock. You were a mess.
Over and over, three words came from Sunghoon’s lips like a mantra as he filled you up with his cum to the brim and past that too. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I—”
Finally, silence rang through the air besides both of your heavy breathing. After another moment, your body finally stilled. The silence was so thick that you felt like you couldn’t move at all. Delicately, like he held the shards of you in his hands, Sunghoon laid you back down onto the bed. He pressed feather-light kisses to your jaw and cheeks before they finally landed on your lips.
You were so overwhelmed with emotions and feelings that you couldn’t feel anything at all. Your head was still foggy and your only penetrating thoughts swirled around him. Despite your eyes being wide open, your vision was cloudy.
Sunghoon kissed you again. “Stay here,” he says, pushing away from you. Your arms fell to your sides limply. He leaned back and pulled his cock out of you, eyes shining with adoration at the way yours and his mixed cum spilled out and dirtied the bedsheets. Sunghoon rubbed the tip of his cock through it a couple times, ignoring how you squirmed and whined. “Absolute perfection,” he said under his breath before standing to his feet.
You laid there on the bed, still spread open and a mess of cum, as your eyes went in and out of focus. When the clouds in your vision did part, all you saw were all of the dolls and how they stared at you. Sunghoon came back a couple moments later, his face coming into focus as the moonlight bounced off his glasses. He climbed over you and began cleaning you up.
You were barely aware of the way he meticulously made sure every nook and cranny was polished nor how he moved you to put new bedsheets on the bed. Your mind didn’t start to come back to you until he was pulling you over him and sitting you onto his cock. You came alive at his hands trailing the expanse of your body before landing on your hips. You moaned quietly, your gaze dripping to look down at him. The darkness in his eyes was not quite all the way gone.
Sunghoon brought you down to lay on his chest. “I could fuck you all night…” he trails and his voice vibrates throughout your whole body as he shallowly thrusts up into you, “and into the morning, too.” His hips stilled and instead his fingers caressed your back. “But then we wouldn’t have the full day together, would we, my love?”
You shook your head slightly and Sunghoon wrapped an arm possessively over you before pulling the blankets overtop of you both, his other arm caging you against him completely. As the moonlight filtered through the window of your bedroom, the two of you slowly fell asleep.
In the morning, you were awoken by kisses on your neck and your pussy fluttering around Sunghoon’s slow strokes. He lifted your leg into the air and you turned your body towards the warmth at your back, blinking away sleep. You hummed, a soft whine pulling from your throat as you looked at him.
His glasses were off, which let you know that it hadn’t been long since he woke up himself. Sunghoon leaned down to press his lips to yours, his cock still dragging at a snail’s pace against your walls. “Are you sore?” he asks, pulling away from your lips to kiss your shoulder.
You nodded. Him still inside you, lazily fucking into you felt good, but you couldn’t ignore the way he stretched you open and the deep soreness that came from it. “A little,” you say.
Sunghoon turned you onto your back so you laid beneath him and he pulled out of you completely. “I’m sorry, my love,” he says and his lips meet yours again. “Let me make you feel better.”
He kissed your lips once more and started trailing kisses down to your jaw and along the length of your neck. Sunghoon looked up at you through the strands of his black hair, kissing lower down your body to your breasts, his hands massaging them as he kissed at your perked nipples. Soft moans left you at his touch.
His kisses spread to your stomach, to your hips, and finally right above where you were already wet for him. He spread your legs open more. “I’ll be gentle,” Sunghoon says, placing a kiss to your clit before his tongue poked out to lap at your entrance.
Without Sunghoon around, the idea of perfection was bitter on your tongue—acidic in your chest. But, when your beloved husband was around, finally in your arms again, you understood why people strive for it. You love it.
If perfection was how Sunghoon saw you, then you’d forever be the most absolutely perfect person, woman, wife you could be.
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Days pass and you are once again left alone in the vastness of your home. Sunghoon stood true to his word as best as he could, spending as much time with you when he didn’t have to work, but it still wasn’t enough. The house still felt empty, and the occasional early nights when he would come home didn’t help.
It felt like the early nights home he took came at a price. Most nights when he would finally walk through the front door, you were already asleep or close to it. He would wake you up with a kiss and a content sigh. It made your chest ache even more than it already did when he is away.
You were in the middle of washing the dishes, mind trailed off to someplace else as you idly let the sounds of the TV float around you. “The search for the six missing girls is still going strong. Police still has not found the perpetrator, but an interview earlier with the Chief says that they are very close to finding out who has taken these girls. Our anonymous tip hotline is still up and running for anyone who may have any valuable information on where these girls might be.”
The words brought you back to life, and you gasped quietly as you looked towards the tiny screen. You examined the bold numbers at the bottom of the screen. It reminded you of the secret room behind the dollhouse that you completely forgot about. You quickly finished the dishes, leaving them in the strainer to dry completely as you dried your wet hands.
Slowly, you took quiet steps towards the hallway where the dollhouse was displayed. You looked to the front door to ensure that it was still locked. Sunghoon could walk through it at any moment and you didn’t want him to know that you knew about his secret workshop before you had the chance to see what was inside.
You recalled the way the door to the room opened—the pushed opened small bookshelf that revealed the make-shift door. You tip-toed to the bookshelf, examining its sides and the books on it.
You didn’t really look at the books on the bookshelf besides your own cookbooks. Sunghoon’s doll making books were something you rarely touched, if at all. But, you took a hard look at those too, your fingers running over the spines. They all felt like books, the spines hard and sturdy, but something about them still felt off to you. You looked at Sunghoon’s books again, pulling each one out a little to take a peek at the covers.
In the middle of you pulling one of the books, you heard a quiet click and the bookshelf came loose from the wall. You took a step back, shock showing all over your face. Gently, you grabbed the side of the bookshelf and pulled.
The bookshelf creaked open and revealed an opening that you had to bend down a little to enter. When you stepped inside the surprisingly large room, your eyes did a sweep of what was inside. You froze, your stomach dropping as you stared at what was in front of you, absolutely horrified. You didn’t even really know what was in front of you… It looked like an amalgamation of various body parts, stitched and sewn into one. Its skin was weirdly shiny, almost like it was made of some kind of plastic or resin while still keeping its elasticity.
You disregarded the rest of the room, instead taking careful steps towards the strange creation in front of you. It didn’t look neither dead nor alive and that confused you even further—it barely looked human. Its eyes and lips were sewn shut and it was completely hairless. It was held up onto its feet by long strips of silk hanging from the ceiling that was tied around its naked body. Next to where it stood was a table with thick locks of hair tied with ribbons of your favorite color.
Maybe this was the final crack in your mind and it was crumbling completely, but it kind of looked like you too. Even the hair on the table matched yours perfectly. If you looked past all the stitches, the weird shiny skin, and the lack of hair, it almost seemed like you were looking in a mirror. It looked like an unfinished, life-sized doll of you. Your stomach turned in on itself.
The fear in you raised tenfold in you when it started to twitch. You took a couple steps back from it when it began to pull on its restraints a little. It seemed to start to panic and its shiny arms pulled at the restraints keeping it up even more as it tried to reach out to you. You jumped back more, fearful tears filling your eyes. Your mouth opened to speak, but no words would come out.
The uncanny creation tried to speak, though, before realizing that its mouth was sewn shut. When it began to frightfully hum—the sound off tune and terrifying—did your body start to feel heavy and limp. It pulled at its restraints with all the little strength it had as it reached out to you and began to hum wildly… it hummed Sunghoon’s melody, the one he hummed when he worked.
Realization hit you like a tsunami. Not only was you dear husband making dolls of you, but he was trying to make a real, life-sized human doll of you. And it seemed that every part of this surreal creation was taken from another until it resembled you as close as he could get it. Your mind flashed to those six missing girls—the six missing girls that all looked eerily similar to you. Despite having all the puzzle pieces right in front of you, your mind refused to see the whole picture.
You backed up further, the back of your thighs hitting the desk that was against the back wall near the make-shift door. You twisted towards it, chest heaving as you scanned the scattered papers and opened books. You picked up what looked to be a journal Sunghoon kept and read over the open page with trembling hands.
The entry remarked at how the experiment was working well and how none of the body parts were rejecting like they did before. He praises how the process was much smoother than last time, how the girls he chose were the perfect fit. The journal dropped from your hands.
Those girls going missing due to Sunghoon was no longer speculation. Your eyes snapped back to his “experiment.” It must be those poor girls, their bodies sewn into one to look like you. You still didn’t want to believe it.
Tears poured from your eyes as fear sunk its claws deep within you and forced its way down your throat and into your heart. Your entire world came crashing down around you and quiet sobs left your mouth as you fought against the idea that your husband wasn’t who he said he was—that he was a kidnapper, a killer.
You rushed forwards, your arms raised towards his creation before you wrapped them around yourself and remained a safe distance. “No!” you exclaimed as you rapidly shook your head. “No, this is all a misunderstanding—a mistake! Sunghoon wouldn’t do this… He isn’t that type of person!” You wiped at your eyes, almost believing your own words until you dropped your hands.
Dolls completely surrounded the peculiar creation—Sunghoon’s experiment. It was even more that the ones that surrounded you in the hallway when they were showing you the scene in the dollhouse. They all looked at you for a moment before slowly turning to look up at how the amalgamation of stolen girls thrashed towards you, still frantically humming.
The dollhouse.
It was a warning. Those scenes the dolls showed you… it was all a warning. This was what they were trying to tell you this entire time. This wasn’t just any ordinary experiment for Sunghoon, a dollmaker going completely mad in his craft—no. This experiment was for you. He was using these girls, tearing apart their bodies limb from limb and creating some freakish doll of them that was meant to be you. It was practice… He was doing all of this so he knew exactly what to do when he laid his tools down and cut into the real thing. You were next.
Sunghoon’s words rang in your ears and bounced around in your head: “I want to take you apart, carve into you like I do my dolls, but this time make something real. Have you be so perfect forever.” You finally understood it now.
Suddenly, all thrashing ceased and the humming finally abruptly stopped. The only thing that filled the silence was your muffled sobs. “I’m sorry,” you cried, unsure if it even heard you. “I’m so sorry.”
You stumbled towards the opening of the room and barely missed hitting your head on the way out. You didn’t even wait for the bookshelf to click back into place before rushing through the hallway and to the kitchen. For once in your entire life, you hoped that Sunghoon had a long night at work.
Nearly falling into the kitchen counter, you shakily grabbed the landline on the wall. Those bold numbers of the anonymous tip hotline flashed behind your eyes and you rushed to put in the numbers, putting the ringing phone to your ear. “This is the anonymous tip hotline for the six missing girls. Please only share useful tips that could help a breakthrough in the case. Do you have any information to share?”
Your breathing came out heavy and you tried to force the oxygen to reach your lungs, inhaling sharply as you tried to find your words. “I… I-I think my husband kidnapped those girls…” you breathed in a whisper. The woman on the other end of the line started talking, but your focus was abruptly taken when you heard another, more familiar voice behind you.
“Something scare you, darling?” Sunghoon asks, his voice gentle and filled with worry. You couldn’t tell if he was being genuine.
You jumped, pressing further into the kitchen counter as you spun in place, the phone leaving your ear. Sunghoon sat at the kitchen table, his thick brows knitted together. You didn’t even hear him come back home. Despite the landline being away from your ear, you still heard the woman on the other end asking you questions, frantically asking if you were still there. You were completely frozen.
Sunghoon rose to his feet and the stove light illuminated him. You saw him differently now. No longer was he your loving husband, he was something else. Still, you hated the way your heart soared when you locked eyes on him. How your body relaxed, even in the slightest. You hated how you felt complete now that he was here and how you wanted to run into his arms.
He crossed the short distance to you, his arms coming to rest against the counter on both sides of you. You inhaled shakily now that you and Sunghoon were face to face. Without his eyes leaving yours, Sunghoon took the phone from your quivering hand and hung it back up on the wall. His arm returned to its position next to you, completely caging you within his arms.
Sunghoon leaned his forehead against yours. “I thought I told you that you had nothing to be afraid of, not when I’m here.” His voice was still gentle—soft—and it was lowered as he moved one of his arms to take one of your shaky hands in his. You wanted to pull away from him and wrap your arms around him simultaneously. You felt exhausted.
You voice shook, “Y-You kidnapped those girls, didn’t you? Turned them into… into…” Sunghoon drew back to look at you, his head falling to the side as his brows pushed together. His confused look made you start to question if you had been imagining everything—the dolls, the dollhouse, the hidden room, the experiment. “Into… what?” Sunghoon asks.
“...Into me!” you exclaimed, more tears running down your already wet cheeks as you choked out a sob. Sunghoon’s hand tightened around yours. “You killed them… and who knows how many others! Am I next? Are you going to kill me too?”
Sunghoon let go of your hand so he could cup your face with both of his hands, his thumbs wiping underneath your eyes to get rid of the fallen tears. “They aren’t dead!” he says. “And I swear to you that I’ll never hurt you, my love. You know that. Think of them as… reborn.”
You started to tremble in his arms and tried to shift away from him, but Sunghoon wouldn’t let you go anywhere. “Is that what you’re going to do to me? Was all of this—” you gestured around the room at all the dolls of you sitting pretty on the various shelves around the kitchen “—just practice for the real thing?” you spat out. You tried to move again, but Sunghoon’s hands dropped from your face to your upper arms to keep you in place.
“No!” Sunghoon started, his voice coated in disbelief that you would even ask him that as he shook his head. “No… can’t you see? This—” he used a finger to motion around the kitchen at the dolls “—is a reflection of how much I love you. My devotion to you. You, above anything else, above everything else. A peek inside my mind and how the only thing in there is you.”
“A-And that experiment of yours—the missing girls? Behind the wall?” you asked.
“That… is my dedication to you—m-my oath.” Sunghoon was completely desperate. He pleaded with you, his eyes wide and begging you to believe his words. His eyes were watery, like if you didn’t believe him he might cry as well, and he looked at you over the rim of his wire-framed glasses that slipped down his nose bridge.
You didn’t know what to believe. Didn’t know what to say. You just wanted to go upstairs with Sunghoon and lay in your bed and forget about everything that you’ve witnessed as he held you close to his chest. It was all too much, and your resolve was starting to crack and shatter. You wanted to smooth down your wrinkled dress and fix your messy hair, but Sunghoon didn’t let you move a single inch in fear that you would run from him. You couldn’t tell which one of you was more terrified.
His hands slid down from your upper arms and down to your hands, grasping them so tight that it started to hurt. “Come… Come with me…” he trailed, gulping thickly. You stared at him with wide, frightful eyes, suddenly unwilling to move, but Sunghoon desperately pleaded with you. He looked like he was seconds from getting down onto his knees. “Please,” he begged, pulling you into him, as his voice cracked. “You know I’d never do anything ever to hurt you.”
Sunghoon took a step back, hoping that you would follow after him, and you did. You let him guide you down the hallway all the way to the bookshelf and into the room behind it, his grip on your hands never once loosening. He led you in front of the uncanny image of you that he created. “I know how it looks,” Sunghoon says, his voice hushed. “But there’s no pain, no sorrow, nothing.”
It didn’t try to reach out to you like it did earlier and all the dolls that once surrounded it were gone. It didn’t hum that out-of-tune, terrifying version of the melody Sunghoon hummed when he worked either. It just hung limply from its silk restraints. “It just is,” Sunghoon continued. “And when it’s fully done, and completely polished, it’ll be flawless.” He delicately took your chin and guided your head to the side so you looked at him. Your body finally stopped fighting against itself and you relaxed in his grasp. “Like you are.”
Sunghoon leaned forward, hesitantly pausing to look at you again before bringing his lips to meet yours. He pulled you into him, his body wrapping around yours, and you timidly invited him in.
His lips felt so good against yours, and you knew that once you parted for air you’ll miss the feeling of them forever until he kissed you again. It felt right—it felt like home. The home where the two of you were always together and he held you like he was holding you now—like he was afraid that if he let go he would lose you. That if he didn’t hold you like a delicate porcelain cup you would chip and crack and shatter. And you would.
When Sunghoon’s lips moved against yours like they did in this moment, everything fell into place. All your worries slid off your back and for a brief minute, it was just the two of you in the whole wide world. Nothing existed but him, and his body enveloped in yours, and his touch that made you burn. And the flames danced so beautifully for him, didn’t they?
Just when you were about to pull away to quell the heaviness in your lungs, you felt a sudden sharp pain in your neck. You hissed, breaking away from Sunghoon’s lips just barely. Sunghoon chased your lips, holding the back of your head and pulling you closer against his body as he kissed you harder.
You whimpered against his lips, your nails digging into his arms as you tried to free yourself from his vice-like grip. It was no use, Sunghoon was never going to let you go. You felt your body grow heavy in his arms and he had to hold you up. Your vision began to spot black and fray around the edges, and your ears rang terribly. Just before you passed out completely, and over the ringing of your ears, you heard Sunghoon’s muffled voice as he kissed your neck where the pain stemmed.
“I love you. I love you so much that it hurts, I truly do.”
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You fade in and out of consciousness as time passes around you. Sometimes you see blurred glimpses of Sunghoon, sometimes it's just an array of colors until you black out again.
You aren’t sure how long it’s been when your eyes finally do open and you remain conscious for good. Blinking away the blurriness in your vision, you examine how you're laying on the couch in your living room. Your entire body aches and it feels stiff. Your head is pounding and you almost close your eyes again to ease the pain you feel. You notice how you’re in different clothes and there’s a blanket over top of you. Too late do you notice the figure in your peripheral, and your eyes shift to look at them.
Sunghoon hovers over you, his expression a chaotic mix of hopeful, relief, and worry as he stares down at you. He’s wearing different clothes too, and his hair is a complete mess, like he’s been running his hands through it, and his glasses almost slide completely off his face. “Are you here, my love?” Sunghoon asks quietly. His voice sounds slightly hoarse.
You give him a confused look, pushing the blanket off of you and crying out from the pain you feel as you try and sit up. Sunghoon rushes to your aid, tossing the blanket to the side without a single thought, and helps ease you to your feet. Your gaze drops to your legs as he helps you stand and you notice how weird they look—shiny. There’s slight indented lines at your knees, too. You look at your arms and they’re the same.
You look doll-like.
Once you’re steadily on your feet, Sunghoon moves a step back to take you all in. You notice how done up you are and when you carefully raise a stiff and sore arm to your hair you feel how it’s styled. Your gaze lands on Sunghoon’s face, his eyes meeting yours.
His eyes are shining—completely full of love and pride. You’ve only seen him look like this when he first came to you with one of the dolls he made that looked the most like you, and when the two of you are in bed and his fingers are gently caressing your skin as he admires you. But, it was even more intense than in those scenarios. Confusion clouds you and you wait for Sunghoon to say something, and he does. One singular word.
“Perfect.”
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[ kipo’s note . . . ] would it be wrong to say how i absolutely #needthat #desperately… like hehe yes i’ll be your perfect doll for you forever and ever and ever (๑´ω`๑)
𖥦 ﴾ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 . . . 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ﴿ ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε`ʃƪ)♡
🏷️﹙ 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝘩���𝘳𝘦 ﹚ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @hyukascampfire @xylatox @ghstzzn @izzyy-stuff @sunoosgfv @jihyokat @whosserina @jellymochii @innocygnet @sumsumtingz @riribelle @yeoningz @minaateez @beombunni @jiryunn @lvrs-street2mmorrow @everythingvirgoes @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @fancypeacepersona @deobitifull @tinycatharsis @strawberryshoujosundae
© jjunbug - all rights reserved. do not repost on any social media or sites, translate, or modify any of my works.
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timbitshockey · 11 hours ago
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i’ve been thinking a lot about that article that interviewed these rich white 19-20 year old kids who voted for trump and how so many of them said they did it because they were tired of being told what they couldn’t say and wanted to be able to make offensive jokes again. the world we live in is so individualistic and devalues empathy to such an insane degree.
so it’s like, do i think every player who went to the white house is a trump supporter who voted for him? no, probably not. but the league is, by a vast majority, full of rich white men who likely grew up in rich white communities in a sport that devalues empathy and places so much weight on tradition. so they don’t care. going to meet the president is part of the experience of winning the stanley cup and they want the full traditional experience and they don’t care about the current political climate or what being photographed smiling and thanking trump for his time is going to look or feel like to the people who are actually effected the most by what he’s done and what he’s threatening to do. they don’t care. they want to do the fun thing they earned for playing hockey good. it’s just depressing.
and like to be clear this isn’t a way of removing agency from these guys. lots of people grew up in environments like them and managed to break free of those ingrained messages and care about other people. most of these guys just don’t want to. they don’t want to think about politics beyond whether they’ll get fired for saying slurs and if they have to wear rainbow jerseys one night a year. is every player who didn’t use pride tape after travis dermott did homophobic? no. they just don’t care enough.
which is i guess sort of the problem with sports fandom, and something we have to sit with whenever these situations happen. these are real people. they’re not characters on a show who have plot lines and character arcs. and people are often disappointing.
i don’t know if i’m going anywhere with this. i guess maybe i’d like to remind us all to be kind to each other. to be empathetic. we’ve all got our different lines in the sand for what makes players persona non gratas to us and trying to use that as a gotcha for fandom beef can only really come back to bite us. what am i gonna say to a matthew tkachuck fan when sidney crosby did the same thing when the pens won in 2017? id like to think the players i support would be different but realistically they probably wouldn’t. florida fans and tkachuk fans are in the spot they’re in because their team won the cup, not because the team and players are uniquely more evil or more trump-supporting than anyone else. i don’t want to gotcha anyone. we’re all out here trying to have fun in our sandboxes in a world where empathy is a weakness and people who really matter to us disappoint and hurt us, sometimes just by not caring at all.
anyway. i try not to get into real life stuff too much on here and this will likely be the last i say on the subject. love you guys & i hope the world is kinder to us all soon
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 day ago
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because it's yours
for @steddielovemonth using the quote prompt: "If there is love, smallpox scars are as pretty as dimples. I'd love your face no matter what it looks like. Because it's yours." - Stephen King
rated t | 1250 words | no cw | tags: post-vecna, eddie munson lives, pre-relationship, injury recovery, first kiss, getting together
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Eddie’s not allowed visitors in the hospital, at least according to Wayne and Hopper. It’s for his own safety, they say.
Steve knows that’s partially bullshit. He’s good at sensing bullshit. But he plays along anyway, convinces the kids to just visit Max and they’ll plan a welcome home party for Eddie when he’s released. It gets harder by the day, especially when all the news they hear is that Eddie is healing well and should be good to go home even sooner than they thought.
No one tells them when he’s released.
Steve only finds out because he walks by the room Eddie’s been in, and instead of the door being closed, it’s wide open. There’s unfamiliar voices coming from the room. It could be doctors or nurses, but something makes him pause and peek in the doorway.
It’s an older woman and what appears to be her adult children, all of them having a very serious conversation about how she needs to be more careful while gardening.
Steve leaves before he’s caught eavesdropping.
He considers stopping by Dustin’s, see if he’s heard the news. Maybe the kids found out first.
Who is Steve to Eddie really?
Just because they gave each other looks and flirted a little and Steve carried him out of the Upside Down and-
He swallows the hurt and decides to go straight to Wayne’s new trailer. It’s just outside of town, easy to get to even with the damage done by the cracks. He’s been there a few times to check on him, even helped him set up his cable.
When Wayne opens the door, Steve knows something is off.
He doesn’t invite him in. Instead, he steps onto the porch and closes the door behind him. He gives Steve an awkward smile instead of his usual warm, comforting one.
“Is he home?” Steve asks.
“He’s sleeping,” Wayne allows. “He’s still recovering.”
“Do the kids know he’s home?”
“Son, he-“
“Why is he hiding? Everyone’s worried and just wants to make sure he’s okay. No one would keep him from resting!” Steve hates that his voice pitches higher. His hands are shaking. He’s never spoken to an adult he respects like this. “We just wanna know he’s safe.”
“He is.” Wayne sighs. “I told that boy no one was gonna stay away for long. He insisted everyone would forget him. I said no. He didn’t listen.”
Steve’s eyes dart over to the window he knows goes to Eddie’s bedroom. He’d been the one to help set it up when Wayne moved in.
“Can I please see him? I’ll be quick. I won’t even tell the kids yet. I just need to see,” Steve begs. “Please, Wayne.”
Wayne wordlessly opens the door and gestures for Steve to come inside.
He leads him to Eddie’s room, reminding him with a look to be quiet and not wake him up. Steve gives an understanding nod and walks into the room.
There’s sunlight sneaking through the blackout curtains, just enough to light up the bed that Eddie’s already wide awake in. Steve can’t help the smile blooming on his face.
Eddie looks scared, though.
His eyes are wide, and he’s pulled himself to the farthest corner of the queen sized bed. His hair’s a mess, proof that he probably was asleep just before Steve got here.
“Hey, Eddie,” Steve waves. He doesn’t come any closer to the bed. “I just wanted to get eyes on you. Feeling alright?”
Wayne’s standing in the doorway behind Steve, probably trying to determine if he needs to step in or ride this out. If Eddie asks, Steve will leave. He doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable.
“What’re you doing here?” Eddie asks.
Steve watches the way his jaw moves around the words, how his mouth twists differently, like it’s taking more effort to talk. The scar going across his cheek, up into his temple, and down to his neck seems to be the cause of it. It’s still an angry red, stitches visible in some places where the bites must’ve been deeper.
He walks forward slowly. Eddie doesn’t stop him. Neither does Wayne.
The scar is big. It’ll always be big, though Steve has plenty of experience with scars and knows it’ll fade into a paler pink than it currently is. It’ll be a reminder, every day, of how he almost died. Eddie will have this memory every time he looks in the mirror, every time his own fingers brush against the ridged skin.
Steve cups the side of Eddie’s face that’s scarless.
Eddie gulps.
“Is this why you didn’t want anyone to visit?” He whispers.
Eddie doesn’t answer, but his eyes closing and head tilting down is answer enough.
“Eddie, look at me.”
Eddie opens his eyes.
“Do you really think a scar could scare any of us away? After how we found you, a scar is the least of our worries. You don’t have to hide from us.”
Steve’s not sure if Wayne’s still standing in the doorway, too focused on the way Eddie’s holding his gaze now. He’s lost weight and he’s still pale, but he’s alive. He’s still beautiful.
Maybe even more now.
“You’re alive. Everyone just wants you alive.”
“I’m gonna look even weirder now,” Eddie rasps out. Steve wonders if there’s damage to his throat, something his voice may never recover from entirely.
“I dunno. I think it’s pretty badass. Since when do you care about looking weird, anyway?” Steve smirks. “The Eddie Munson I know would find a new ridiculous story to tell every time he’s asked about something this cool.”
“I was leaning towards making people believe I got in a fight with a dragon,” Eddie shrugs one shoulder. His cheeks are red, warm underneath Steve’s touch.
“And won.”
Eddie leans his head forward, resting his forehead against Steve’s. “Of course I won. A knight in shining armor saved me.”
“You saved everyone else first. Don’t forget that part of the story,” Steve reminds him.
“A hero’s brave sacrifice…” Eddie mumbles. Steve chuckles. “Maybe true love’s kiss?”
“Isn’t that supposed to break a curse?” Steve whispers, suddenly nervous about all the times they flirted before. Flirting is harmless until it’s not.
“You’re right. In this case, it’s the curse of never kissing a nice guy.”
“And you think I can break that curse?”
“Can’t hurt to try.”
It’s a little awkward at first, mostly because parts of Eddie’s jaw are still numb from nerve damage and moving in certain ways is difficult. But once Steve adjusts, and they both giggle against each others’ lips, it’s easy. They fit.
Eddie tries to deepen the kiss, but he is still healing, and he has to pull away when his stitches tug painfully.
“Your battle scars won’t matter to any of us. They damn sure don’t make you less beautiful to me. Everyone misses you,” Steve rubs his arm, the one with no visible bandages. “Can I at least bring Dustin over later? Let him see that you’re actually alive and the hospital and government haven’t been lying?”
“Is that what everyone thinks?”
“You have to remember we’ve been through this a lot. Hopper was dead until he wasn’t. Anything can be faked.”
“That’s reassuring,” Eddie groans. “Yeah. Bring everyone by tomorrow. I’ll even shower.”
Steve kisses the top of his head. “Do you need help?”
“With showering? I just might, big boy.”
The way Eddie smiles is different now, but Steve loves it all the same.
246 notes · View notes
madamechrissy · 4 hours ago
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Pour it Up
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Pairings: Stripclub Owner Sukuna x Stripper F!reader
Summary:- You are a single mother, your baby daddy is not just worthless, he also is actively trying to sabotoge you, so you go out on your own and raise your kid by yourself. Struggling your ass off, a friend of a friend named Toji decides to offer you a hell of a deal, a few hours a night at a strip club to make BANK. While there, you meet the other owner, Sukuna, and the moment he sees you? You annoy him how beautiful you are, how much he wants you, pushing him to insanity. He knows he must have you- no matter whose ass he needs to beat.
Warnings:- reader is a mom, lowkey/highkey Yandere Sukuna behavior (He's obsessed) recreational drug use, drug dealing Sukuna (the club lowkey a front lol) Mafia ties, EXPLICIT sexual content, blow jobs, cunnilingus, fingering, masturbation, teasing and eventually violence, some former trauma of reader. This part- Oral (Female recieving) fingering, sexual tension, snorting cocaine off bodies lmaoo, coke lips just a lil, mentions of violence and mafia mentions- WC-6.9k
Based on Stripclub Owner Sukuna - IDK how many parts this will be, thinking four to six? That mobster art in the banner is by Sketch B on X- CHECK it- LINK
<<<Part One - Playlist - Part Three>>> (coming Soon)
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Part Two
You’re yawning as you get your little boy ready to sleep, and your good friend and now babysitter Miwa comes in, a pretty smile on her face as she walks in and sees Touma, your little son yanking on your hair then. “Ow, hey now!”
You’re all laughing as you disentangle your hair, huffing a bit. “Sowwy, mama.” He says so cute, and you melt then.
“It’s why mommy wears a bun.” You tap his little button nose, earning a little scrunch of his nose, and then he looks at Miwa, opening his little hands.
“Miwa!” She giggles, getting down on her knees and opening her arms, he goes to hug her then as you get everything ready for the night.
“Are you sure it’s fine? I swear I feel so awful asking you…” You murmur, you’d just gotten a funds transfer that was far too much from Sukuna labled ‘sitter money’ which was hundreds of dollars.
“No, please, it's fine.”
“Um… is two hundred good?” You ask, as Sukuna sent another note saying ‘for you to eat something - you’ll need energy’ which made you blush insanely, memories from him yesterday making you overheat.
“Two hundred, what? That’s too much.” She says with a frown. “It’s one night, like a hundred?”
“Miwa…”
“Girl, I’m not taking two hundred for it.”
“It’s not even from me.” You show her the text then, and she has a blush of her own on her cheeks.
“He did that!?”
“Yeah… so please take it, literally it’s not from me, and I promise, he’s got plenty. Clearly..” She sighs, smiling a bit then as she studies you.
“You really like him, hmm?”
“It’s intense, Miwa.” You murmur softly, looking as your little boy is laughing and tapping on his tablet. “He makes me feel really pretty.”
“Oh baby.” She hugs you then, and you cling to her tightly. “You’re beautiful, I tell you that all the time.”
“I know, and thank you but like, the stretch marks that… he trashed on me for, Mr. Sukuna thinks they’re so sexy.” Your voice is just a breathy whisper, you don’t know how much Touma may or may not hear or know yet.
“Ugh, I’m so glad you left him.” She rolls her pretty blue eyes, shivering in disgust at the thought of your ex, it’s a common response to anyone with sense. “But Toji is kind of related?”
“Loosely. He’s different, I promise, than any of them.”
“I’ll trust it, but jesus the Zenin family is no joke. Just be careful.” You nod as you continue to get a bag together, blushing when you grab pajamas, you don’t know if you’re going to even use pajamas.
Sukuna did things to you that have never been done just existing, what’s terrifying is you know it’s probably a hookup, but after two years of nothing, even that sounds so good. But you’re scared that you’ll catch feelings fast with him, just his presence alone is intoxicating, as much of a drug as any of them push.
You certainly weren’t telling Miwa that.
Sukuna seems night and day from your ex, Naoya, as if they couldn’t be two more different men, despite the clear mafia ties. Something about Sukuna screams that he wants to protect you, and as independent as you are lately by being forced to be, something about him taking care of you was heady and addicting. You can’t stand how much you want it, want more.
“You’ve got those dickmatized eyes.” Miwa says with a sigh and you shush her, as she giggles.
“Not even… I… Miwa!”
“I’m kidding.” She giggles then, shaking her head. “The girls will be very happy to hear you’re meeting someone.”
“Don’t tell our friends yet, what if this ends… with nothing?” You murmur, and she shakes her head, blue hair falling softly.
“Look already, he's more thoughtful. You have fun, and shit if he wants to give me two hundred more to stay another night I will. Easy money for me.”
“Miwa!” She’s laughing and you can’t help but laugh too, before nervously biting your lip. “I feel guilty leaving, it’s one thing to make money, but it seems so selfish to just go do this.”
“Please don’t, he’ll have fun. Won’t you?” She asks him then, as he comes out with his tablet, slicing at fruit rapidly.
“Mommy go have fun!” You blink back tears then. “Mommy should smile, Miwa, smile!”
“She should smile.” Miwa’s hair falls over her brow as she picks him up, propping him on her hip, and your lip trembles a bit at just how sweet he is, before your teeth clamp down on it.
“I love you both, I swear. Touma baby, Mommy will be back tomorrow, will you tell me all the fun that you have?” You ask, feeling emotions catch in your throat, this would be the first night away from him since you all have been on your own.
“Mhmm!” He gives you a big kiss on your cheek, and you giggle at him then, but as you’re heading into your big old SUV, you tense when you see the number, pressing answer and sighing.
“What do you want.” You bite out, trying to sound firm despite the nerves eating you alive.
“That’s not a very nice greeting, sweetheart, don’t you miss me?” His voice makes you sick to your stomach, you tremble when you start your car, and he’s laughing. “Still got that old thing, I can hear it.”
“Well I own it, and it’s mine. So yes. What do you even want?” You murmur, and hear the dark chuckle of Naoya Zenin.
It’s disgusting, even his laugh.
“Just wondering how my son is.”
“Now you care? Sure didn’t on his birthday.” You hear his scoff.
“You’re such a bitch, as if you’d let me see him.” He mutters, tone changing from the cloying fake one to fully disgusting.
“I tried to let you, even after it all, it’s been your choice.” You gulp down some water that you’ve brought as you sit at the turning lane, blinker ticking loudly in the quiet car, as your heart races.
“Well maybe I miss you and Touma, did you think of that? Oh, I just bet you miss me.”
“I’m good.”
“Ha, you say that, but I remember things.” His voice takes on a purr now, you can almost see those narrow brown eyes, his malicious grin, how had you ever fallen for someone like that?
“Remember what?” You ask, voice harsh as you remember the last time you all had been together, after he’d cheated again. You’d been so fucked up from him you’d wanted to please him, to make him desire you, but there was no pleasure in it, shit Naoya himself had never been one to pleasure you.
Selfish in every single area including sex, you think you got off more from Sukuna fingering you for a moment than your entire relationship, just the way his ruby eyes looked at you was like a drug. The way he’d kissed you, how he wanted your pleasure, and did all this for a night. It was a million times more than you’d ever had with Naoya.
“You don’t remember me inside you, sweetheart?” He cooes, but you’re shivering in disgust at the memory.
“Sure I do, I’m good.”
“You act as if you could do better, as if you were even good enough for me.” There it goes, you think, while you’re driving down the highway toward the club, odd that it feels so comfortable so quickly.
“Yeah, if I’m not then why are you calling me, hmm?” You ask then, hearing his scoff, smiling as practically picture him losing his shit.
“Who’d want you after the kid but me? You act like you’re the same bitch you were when we met.”
“Lots of people, because guess what? I’m still hot, so fuck you.” He scoffs as you’re giggling.
“The fuck!?”
“Mmhmm, I’m still very hot. And if you don’t think so, go knock up some other poor girl I guess, then down her for the changes a baby makes to her body. Because I’m not it anymore.”
“You little-”
“I’ll block this number if you call for anything personal again. Our agreement states you should be talking through our app.”
“Yeah, really ya think I’ll listen to that shit? Why don’t you admit it, how much you miss me?”
“Because I don’t. Anyway, I have work.”
“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” He demands in his slick tone, one that makes your tummy lurch.
“Bartending.”
“Hah, you were only smart enough to look pretty and blink those lashes, back to it hmm?”
“Didn’t you just say I’m unattractive, how contradictory are you?”
“You-”
“Goodbye.” You hang up the phone, shutting your eyes for a moment and gripping it tightly in your hand, shaking off the images in your mind, in just a week Sukuna, and shit even Toji as a friend, have made you feel better than you had since the split.
Getting cheated on back to back was not easy on you, but you feel like you can shove it all back and just breathe. You’re walking into the club then, seeing Gojo with a fellow tall, dark haired man, he’s beautiful actually you muse as you walk past them, Sukuna and Toji to the dressing room. Sukuna had already laid eyes on you though, and as you’re getting undressed he walks in.
All the girls scatter, his ruby eyes directly on you, and you’re trembling just a bit when he frowns. “What’s wrong, brat?”
“Brat?” You tease softly, blinking a bit when he steps closer.
“You look upset. Who do I need to kill?” You almost laugh, but he raises a brow, god how are this man’s eyebrows attractive!? You sigh then, stepping closer, naked aside from your panties, and you feel his eyes dart to your bare breasts.
“I’m much happier now.” You murmur, he sighs then, a big hand on your waist, taking you over, thumb slipping against the swell of your lower breast.
“Yeah, why?” He mutters, so gruffly, already throbbing hard under his slacks, as he thinks of everything he wants to do.
“Because you’re touching me.” Your vulnerability almost breaks him then, his lips parted in shock, he squeezes tighter, leaning down and cupping your face.
“Did you get the money for your sitter?” He murmurs, and you nod shyly.
“It was too much, but I’m sure she appreciates it.” Your hand comes to grip his strong wrist, heart beating erratically in your chest now.
“And did you eat?”
“Not yet.” You giggle, softly, he sighs then, lips a breath away.
“I’m not fucking kidding, you’ll need the energy.” His words and his tone make your mind wander, just how would it be, to have Sukuna inside you?
“Oh yeah?”
He smirks before chuckling, throwing his head back. “You’re cute, brat, oh yeah.”
“Hey!” You sigh now, stepping back as he eyes your breasts, and you pop your little tassels out of your bag, eyeing him then, watching him drink the sight in. “Wanna help?”
“Shit.” You kill him. Sukuna takes them and presses them, as the little sticky adhesive suctions on, but he’s cupping your breasts in huge hands, as one of the girls, Candy walks in, pausing. “What do you want?” His voice is so terse, it’s just nothing like the man that just asked if you got the hundreds he sent for a sitter and your lunch.
“Um… Mr. Sukuna… could you help me with mine?” She asks then, yanking her tassels off, bare breasted. She makes you tense a bit.
Naoya had cheated over and over, but you and Sukuna were nothing yet, shit you’d just sucked him in his office so far, that’s it. And maybe a hook up tonight? So you can’t be upset if he wishes to, you just look away nervously, leaning forward in the mirror to adjust your makeup and pulling away as he eyes her, so clearly irritated by her presence.
“Ask Toji or something.” He grumbles, before turning you back to him, your eyes glimmer then, with some moisture, making him stutter. “What’s wrong now, shit?”
“No, it’s… your…” You hug him then, making him freeze, as your pretty little body is against him, your breasts so soft on him, he wants to tear you apart, put you back together, make you his. His hands stall though, unsure as you look up at him with tears down your pretty cheeks.
Candy leaves as Sukuna’s mouth opens and shuts. “Brat, what is it?”
“You m-make me feel really… um… it’s stupid…”
“Out with it.”
“Sexy? Pretty? Wanted?” He blinks in confusion then, how could you ever not be, especially with the amount of attention you get here? “I’m not used to this.”
“You know you’re pretty, just… shut up, stop that shit.” He’s swiping at your eyes though, as you elicit emotions that make him insane. “Why’d you feel like you’re not, that brain fried from your kid or something!?”
“No… I just… shitty past.” He sees it then, you’re so hurt from something, and anyone who ever made you feel that way!?
Sukuna would take him the fuck out.
“Whoever says you’re not is trying to fuck with you, fuck your head up, so ignore that shit.” He says softly almost, still a little gruff, cupping your face then. “I have excellent taste, trust mine hmm?”
“Yeah.” Your lip trembles, and Sukuna can’t stop the word from spilling from his lips then.
“Beautiful.”
“I… huh?”
“Shut it.” He kisses you then, and you’re falling against him, pressed on the counter where he can see your back and ass in the mirror, tempting him just as much as your pretty breasts, he moans as he steps between your thighs.
“Did you say beautiful?”
“Shush it, fuck you’re annoying hmm?” You just giggle a bit, and the action does something odd to his heart, god you do something to him.
“Thank you, Mr. Sukuna.”
“Just Sukuna, shit.” He kisses you again before taking a breath, eyeing your body up and down slowly. “Wanna sit on my lap during this meeting? You may… have to have some coke on your body.”
“On me!?”
“Yeah but I’d like you there? Don’t smile like that, you’re too excited.” He says with a glare, you can’t stop it though. The way Sukuna makes you feel, even if this is just you two hooking up, it’s too addicting.
“Which outfit should I wear?” You hold up a few, when Sukuna picks a sexy little red number.
“Turn, I’ll snap it up.” You do as he says, he brushes your hair off the back of your neck over one of your shoulders, eyeing you in the mirror, when he’s done snapping it his fingers trail down your spine, sending shivers down it. His hands then grip your waist, pulling your back against him, and you feel him, hard and insistent against the small of your back under his dress pants.
“You like this outfit?” You manage to tease softly, he exhales then, trailing his big hands down your shoulders, then brushing the sides of your breasts, making your nipples taut under these tassels.
“What do you think?” He says gruffly, before stepping back, letting you both take a breath, he leans forward, palms on the counter, nipping at your shoulder with his teeth, making you gasp a bit. “Keep thinking how good you fucking taste, wanna bury my face inside you.”
“Sukuna…” Your voice is a whine, pathetic, your head falling to the side, as his palm now presses on your tummy. “You do that?”
“Do I do that?” He chuckles against your neck now. “Yes I do that, don’t tell me whatever shit ex you had didn’t.” You just blush now, looking down, and his brows raise in surprise. “And how long were you together?”
“Four years.”
“Not once.” You shake your head, and he scoffs, finger drifting just across your red lace, touching you over the material, finding you drenched, making him moan at the heat he feels. You’re soaking his fingers, turning to look up at him, your eyes dilated and lidded. “You want me to drink you up?”
“Y-yes. I do.” You admit softly, he chuckles as he studies the color decorating your skin, brushing his thumb along your cheek so overheated. Before Naoya you’ve had guys do it, and of course it felt good, but you imagine Sukuna will be this entire other level.
“You won’t ever want me to leave once I do.” You hear the vulnerability in his voice, making you pause before he backs away, clearing his throat.
As if you’d leave him if he was yours, does he not know what kind of man he is to you? How you feel? Well… no, not yet, you’re swallowing it all down, it’s new and it’s scary, and…
“First, be a good girl and let’s do this meeting, yeah?” His gruff words make you focus once more.
“Yes Sir.”
“Shit don’t say that.” He scowls, turning to adjust his raging hard cock up in his waistband, and your giggle earns a deeper glare. “Keep acting up.”
“I won’t! Promise.” He doesn’t give you the smile until you’ve already stepped in front of him, but it’s quite a dopey little smile, as he watches your ass bounce in the little outfit. There’s this possessiveness he feels he can’t explain, he wants to wipe out anyone who looks at you, and he barely knows you.
He can’t wait to have you cumming all over his face, can’t wait to drink your pretty pussy up until you’re a writhing fucking mess under him, he wonders, do you squirt or do you just drip? Has anyone gotten you off good enough before? Sukuna would fuck every thought out of your mind anyway, until it’s just him, because damned if that’s not all that’s in his head lately.
You both step out into the heady club, the scent of women’s perfume and men’s cologne mixing with cannabis and cigars, along with some fragrant incense burning somewhere. It’s smoky from the little fog machines, the lights strobing just so, highlighting everyone dancing, laughing, lounging. But all Sukuna can see or sense is you.
Even your scent, so sweet and intoxicating, is it  fuck your arousal he could damn near feel it, when you next to him, now, looking up just so, your face so pretty it’s damn near irritating to him, the music thrumming through until it’s pulsating both of your bodies. “Where to, Mr. Sukuna?”
“I said to call me just Sukuna, brat.”
He bets you’re blushing, even if he can’t actually see it. “Sukuna.”
God his name from those lips makes his cock throb, how will he focus on business like this!?
“Right in the VIP, c’mon.” He leads you in, where Toji has Candy on his lap, she scowls openly at you until Sukuna catches her, suddenly her scowl disappears, you can’t help but be a little amused.
You recognize Gojo, who is leaned back with an ankle crossed over a knee, grinning up at you with those insane blue eyes, even in the dark they’re ridiculous, you can’t help but smile back, he’s been very sweet to you so far. “Hey sweets, come sit on daddy’s lap, hmm?”
“She sure the fuck won’t, and you’re not daddy.” Sukuna growls, but you’re giggling just a bit as a couple more girls come in, and Sukuna sits next to Toji on one couch, across from Satoru and his friend. Satoru pouts at you.
“He’s mean, isn’t he?” The man next to him snorts, and takes your hand, bending over and kissing it, making you melt a bit.
“Suguru Geto.” He says, you smile before Sukuna has you yanked down firmly on his lap, you laugh a little breathless as you tell Suguru your name, and he watches amusedly when Sukuna wraps an arm around your hips.
“See how greedy he is with her?” Gojo says, but he’s soon amused by another one of the dancers coming by, handing him a drink. “Ooh, thank you.”
“That’s the girliest drink I’ve seen, little bitch drink.” Sukuna grumbles, Satoru sticks his tongue out, sipping on the pink concoction.
“Mmm, and I hear you’re already the star of the club, hmm?” Suguru says your name as a girl hands him a drink, and you shake your head nervously.
“She sure is, stop being shy, doll.” Toji says, tucking a lock of your hair back, before Sukuna glares at him and he chuckles. “Not that he lets her do much dancing, really.”
“Shut it Toji. Business time.”
“Boring.” Satoru leans back in his seat, long legs spread, and sipping his drink as Suguru leans forward, while a dancer lets him snort a line right off her thigh, lapping at the residue with his tongue and sighing.
“Satoru, focus.” He says in a calm tone, Satoru eyes you though as another girl comes to him.
“Wanna snort a line off you, mommy.”
“Satoru I swear to god.” Sukuna threatens, Gojo pouts now, blinking snowy lashes as Sukuna’s grip on you tightens brutally.
“I can’t take a line off the star girl?” Sukuna sighs, and you look at him then, lips turning up at the corners, as his ruby eyes narrow.
“Trying to make me jealous?” He hums quietly, you stand then, earning his hands slipping down your hips.
“I wonder if you’ll show me how mad you are later.” He smirks at you, raising a brow arrogantly.
“Think you can handle that, little brat?” You step over to Satoru, who exhales, sitting up straight then, smiling up at you.
���Look you’re defying him and everything, cute.” You roll your eyes as Satoru takes the snowy powder, tapping some gently on your thigh then, using this fancy black and silver card to line it up. “You’ve never done any, have you?”
“No…” You admit, and even as Toji, Sukuna and Suguru talk, you feel those crimson eyes boring into you, when Satoru slips his long fingers, your heel propped on the other side of him, and he wraps up a bill.
“What’s a good girl doing here though?” He asks curiously, plump lips turning up when he finishes rolling the bill.
“Single mom life is expensive.” He pauses then, blue eyes looking down a bit at your body, as you overhear the conversation in the background.
“And the Zenin family seems to think they have claim to parts of our territory, the Kamos are on board with Gojo now though, so that expands us and what we’re moving significantly.” Suguru says to Sukuna, who laughs then, throwing his head back as Toji grimaces.
“Don’t call me a fuckin’ Zenin, ya know that’s not my name.” Toji grumbles, considering he does use Fushiguro, but you can’t blame him, just look at Naoya? Who would want to be related to that?
“So you really are a mommy then. Hot.” Satoru says, before snorting the coke off your skin, one of his hands pressing into your calf as he does. Then his face is far too close to where you feel his breath tickle your inner thigh, he presses a kiss on your thigh then, earning Sukuna standing up and Satoru grinning.
“You’re gonna get killed.” Toji chuckles, and Satoru holds his hands up, as Sukuna places you behind him, grabbing him by the collar.
“I was just thanking her!?” He’s sputtering and you can’t stop your giggle, something was stupidly attractive about Sukuna like this.
“I’ll cut your dumb ass tongue out of your mouth if you-”
“Sukuna, chill. Satoru, apologize.” Suguru says calmly then, humor in his violet eyes, and Sukuna flops down Satoru right on the couch, he brushes himself off, laughing like a psycho.
“Sorry Sukuna, it's not my fault she’s so pretty.” Satoru earns another grab of his neck. “I said sorry!”
“Hands off.” He looks to you, his glare making your giggle stop, as he bends low over you, his big hands on your bare waist, your pulse racing, pounding in your ears as the room watches you both for a moment. “And you, you’re not leaving my lap anymore for the rest of the meeting, got it?”
“Yes, Sir.” You can’t stop the little smile when he sighs at that, before sitting down and firmly planting you on his thigh, Gojo winks over at you, earning an eye roll as you feel Sukuna’s firm thigh against your head, addling your mind.
“Now, before I was so rudely interrupted,” Sukuna clears his throat, one arm wrapped around your waist, dragging you further up his thigh, making you ache in need, more and more. “We absolutely have an active Zenin member approaching our area, and they’re doing a lot more than running drugs.”
“They’re running people.” Toji says, disgust in his voice, and your eyes go wide as you look at him.
“This convo too much for you?” Sukuna murmurs, and then you look at him, shaking your head and gulping.
“So we stop them, then.” Suguru says calmly, and Sukuna sighs.
“There’s no other option, considering who we’re talking about, not like they’ll make any deals.” Sukuna now takes some of the powder, turning you and sprinkling just a bit on the curve of your neck and shoulder, snorting it off you and then licking the line off your body, exhaling as he tastes you mixing with the numbness of the cocaine. “Fuck…”
It’s a murmur no one hears but you, but you feel him clenching you tightly, so protective, his hands not leaving you as they speak, little brushes against your back playing with your hair, all while your pussy throbs in need for him. But more so your mind craves to know more of him, just who is the man you feel so comfortable sitting on so damn quickly?
What makes him… him?
“No one hates the Zenins more than Toji.” Comes Suguru’s voice now, shaking you out of your reverie, you blink a bit as Toji laughs, downing a shot.
“She does.” He says your name, gesturing to you, earning the eyes of every man, including Sukuna, as his mouth parts. “Shit, sorry doll.”
“What’s he mean?” Sukuna asks tersely, and you sigh, shifting a bit.
“Do you have a connection to the Zenin?” Suguru asks curiously, you sigh again, that’s two sighs, Sukuna counts, while you tense, and he watches your jaw clench just a bit as he turns your chin to face him.
“They got something on you?” He asks quietly, and you look at Toji again, unable to really say the words.
“Her kid is a Zenin.” He says then, gruffly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to throw your shit out there.”
“Your kid is a Zenin?” He asks, you nod then, just a bit. “So your shitty ex is a Zenin?”
“He’s the shittiest of them all.” Toji mutters.
“Who?” Sukuna asks quietly.
“Naoya.” You whisper the name, bitter and disgusting in your mouth.
“Oh shit. Mommy, that's bad taste.” Satoru says, and you watch the room put their heads in their hands.
“I know, okay, trust me. Leaving him wasn’t easy, that’s why I ended up having to come here, it’s not like he has much to do with our son. Touma doesn’t even remember him. But he did call me today.”
“He did what now?” Sukuna’s grip makes you wince just a bit, it’s so tight. “If he calls you I really should know from now on, you have no clue how dangerous he is.”
“I was with him for years, I do know.” You stand then, taking a breath, and shaking your head. “I should go… dance or something.”
Sukuna’s saying your name, and Toji is trying to apologize, but you can’t stand another moment, wondering how even here Naoya fucks with you. But it’s just moments before Sukuna is yanking you off the stage, literally picking you up, and carrying you to his office, sitting you right on his desk. Your breasts are heaving up and down with each breath when he caresses your cheek, surprisingly gentle.
“What’d he say to you? Did he threaten you?” Sukuna murmurs, you shake your head.
“Just mean shit, like I must miss him, and who would want me. His typical poison he likes to throw, nothing more.” You swipe at tears that form, falling down your cheeks, and Sukuna feels rage destroying him from the inside.
“And you surely know it’s bullshit, hmm?”
“I told him to fuck off.” You smile just a bit, a hand slipping over a strong chest, one you wonder about, how far do these tattoos lead? How does he look with it off? The thoughts tantalize you to no end. “You helped me do that.”
“Good girl.” You exhale, biting your lower lip, as he spreads your thighs, standing between them and leaning over you. “If he calls you anymore, tell me, you don’t want to know all what he’s into, he could hurt you.”
“He never has, like physically at least.”
“Just promise me, I can’t protect you if you don’t.” You frown then at that, nodding.
“But my kid is most important to me, Sukuna.”
“Then I’ll make you both safe, even the little… kid or whatever.” He grumbles, melting you utterly, you blink rapidly, pulling on his tie, your lips a breath from his now, tasting the sweetness of his breath.
“Why are you so good to me already?”
“I haven’t been good to you yet. Or you’d be fucked out.” He says, whispering those words, you’re kissing him now, gasping when you feel the numbness of your lips, and he chuckles a bit. “It’ll go away.”
“Will I get…”
“No, it won’t fuck you up. But I will.” You’re back to kissing him, his lips working over yours again and again, big hand slipping down the small of your back. “Take the day off, I need you all day I can’t wait for later.”
“I can’t, Sukuna.”
“I’ll pay you three times your average day.”
You shake your head at him, lips parted in a moan when he presses his clothed cock against your dripping wet pussy, your hands cling to his suit jacket, whining out. “Don’t pay me, I don’t wanna be that way…”
“I’m fucking rich, baby, just take it. Give it to your kid, I don’t know.”
You snort at him, your entire body responding to his every touch. “Sukuna, you don’t give a little kid money like that!”
“I don’t know what you do with those things.” You burst out laughing at him, and he glares, while you swipe back a lock of pink hair. “Take. The. Day. Off.”
You certainly do take the day off, and soon you’re in the back of the limo you’d watched Sukuna climb into many times, but now it’s just you and him, and you’re kissing him, straddling his lap, nothing on you but that lingerie and his suit jacket. He’s under you, feeling your cunt against him, ready to fuck into you, fill you, you’re driving him so crazy he’s sensitive.
If he busts from this he will never forgive himself, so he pushes you off, on your back now, you’re breathless as you look up at him, his coat is swallowing your body, so small compared to him, your eyes locked on his, so gorgeous it makes him want to be stupid. He’d cum in you, give you more kids if that’s really what makes you so happy, fill you so good, keep you.
“Annoying.” He says then, and you blink curiously, not realizing the inner turmoil of the obsession he now has over you, this gorgeous mom who has a fucked ex, and a soaking wet pussy grinding up for attention against his thigh. This mom who he’d make a mom a million times over, and he doesn’t even know you.
“I’m annoying?” You ask curiously, he sighs now, nodding, and you just giggle a bit, more pretty, fueling his obsession as he grips your thigh then, rough thumb pressing against delicate skin. He watches your breath catch, as he feels his cock leaking precum from just touching you.
“So annoying.” He confirms, but it might as well be sweet words when he kisses you again, and then down your throat, until he gets to your pretty breasts, while the limo steadily drives you both, jostling you just a bit, only serving to put his face closer to where he wants to be.
“Sukuna, um… are you…” He’s kissing down your stomach now, nipping right at your belly button, tongue trailing a line that would previously make you so nervous, but with him you just feel…
“Fuck you’re perfect.” He murmurs, rough fingers suddenly slipping under your panties, making your hips buck up, clit twitching in response. “He really didn’t eat you out?”
“No, I didn’t… um, cum with him.”
What the fuck is wrong with him. Aside from the obvious.
“Hmm, then she’ll be all mine, hah.” You’re watching his eyes dilate to the point they’re black, sharp teeth biting at your thigh, while you’re drooling out of your little hole, finally he’s down there, eying your pussy in the back of this limo, groaning at the sight. “Oh you’re so fucking perfect.”
“Please, please.” You’re whimpering, and he smirks, before parting your folds, breathing on your clit and watching the little thing twitch for him.
“You’re so needy already, gonna be so fuckin’ easy, brat?”
“Sukuna please…” You glare then when he’s kissing right above your clit, your hands enwrapping in his silky pink locks, pulling just so, only making his cock harder for you.
“Need something?”
“Oh my god…” He’s spitting on your clit now, groaning as he watches it bubble and slip down your hole, and you’re squeaking, only earning his chuckle.
“M’gonna have so much fun with you, baby, shit.” He slips two fingers down and up your slit, still just breathing on your damn clit, as your hands fall from his hair, instead clinging to his shoulders, feeling the broad shoulders move under your touch. “Perfect pussy, fuck you for it, shit.”
“Fuck me for it!?”
“Better than I could even picture, stroking my cock every day this week, so much it’s raw damn near. Almost cumming from kissing, you do this shit.” You’re lost in the sensations of his two fingers sinking inside you then, pressing up and finding that spongy spot so fast you can’t breathe, screaming out, back arching. “There it is, dumb fuck couldn’t find it huh?”
“God no he couldn’t. F-fuck!” You whine out as Sukuna flicks his tongue against your clit now, a sensation you can’t describe, hot and sticky as it laps at your wetness, as he moans at your sweetness.
“Fuck….” Sukuna wants to tease you, but he’s done once he gets that taste fully on his mouth, he’s pulling his fingers out and burying his face against you, fucking your little gummy walls with his tongue as you shatter under him. He’s moaning against you, tongue lapping all the wetness pouring out of you, as you’re clinging to his hair so hard it’s painful.
It only urges him more, your moans, your cries, how pretty you look when he stares up at you, his thumbs holding your lips open so he can fuck you even better with his tongue. He feels your walls fluttering, gripping his wet muscle, feels you tense when his nose bumps your clit, you’re screaming out, so loud it’s echoing in the limo, and he knows it then.
He’ll never get enough of you.
Just tasting you is better than any girl he’s fucked, and there have been a lot, shit he’s never enjoyed eating pussy like this either. He’s one that enjoys tasting a woman, it makes him excited to get women off, he’s never been selfish. But to love it like this? God no one tastes like you.
You’re falling apart now, he can feel it, when you’re mumbling incoherently, sniffling, thighs squeezing his head, just urging him on more and more, as he drinks your sticky clear cum all up. Your sounds are filling his ears, mixing with the racing of his damn pulse, his cock oozing precum and making him sticky. He could cum just eating your pussy.
Fuck, he thinks he’s already in love with you.
“M’gonna, Sukuna I’m c–close I…” You’re whispering, pulling at his hair, as the sensation of him devouring you takes over, and he smirks up at you then, pulling off for the first breath you’ve seen the man take.
Is he human even!?
“Cum all over m’face, be a good girl, huh brat?” You nod weakly, fuck you need no urging to cum, but you needed to know it was okay, you want and crave his permission for some insane reason.
When he’s back buried against you, your body convulses, all this pressure in your tummy letting go, until your orgasm has your back arching, has your pussy drenching his handsome face. Sukuna’s moaning, hands tightly gripping your hips, drinking every bit of your arousal that pools, as your cunt now pulses around his tongue, and you’re crying it feels so good.
The orgasm breaks your brain, whatever was left of it from him, you can’t remember ever even having a damn thought but this. You’re whining his name out over and over as he pulls back grinning so damn sexy and arrogant from between your thighs, lapping his tongue up to your clit now, and you scream out hoarsely as he bites your little clit.
“Oh m-my god, f-fuck it’s too much!” He chuckles again, shaking his head as he slips two fingers back in your hole, now soaked and sucking them up so easy, as your pussy drools down his hand to his rings, to his rolex.
“You’re so messy, huh? Look at you, all over me, all over these seats, fuck.” He huffs, enamored with how wet he has you, and your eyes struggle to look down, you squeak a bit, so cute he smiles.
“I’m s-so sorry I’m n-never, Sukuna I’m gonna cum again, fuck!” He curls his fingers in your slick walls, you hear the lewd sound of the squelching wetness in the limo now, it’s obscene, mixing with his moans as he flicks his tongue on the underside of your clit. “Ah s’good-mnh!”
“Cum again for me, lemme drink you all up, messy girl.” You’re coming undone for him, with each flick of his tongue as he now presses up his fingers on that spongy little spot, and you see stars behind eyes as they roll back in your skull. It’s so good you’re crying as he rides out your second orgasm, slurping sounds of Sukuna drinking you even louder, just making it headier.
“Mnh… ngh… ah…” You’re unable to form a word, a twitching mess under him, while he licks more of your slick off his lower lip, grinning down at the mess he’s made you, your pretty face covered in tears and drool.
“Ah, look at you baby, so fucked out, don’t even have my dick yet, hmm?” He taunts now, fingers scissoring in and out as he leans over you, cupping your face with his other hand now.
“Want it, want it.” You’re reaching for him as he hisses, losing control once you find his bulge over his pants, kissing you again, now you taste yourself, making you lap the arousal off his lips, as you’re eagerly unbuckling him, for the limo to stop. He takes a breath, pausing your hand then, wrapping you back in his jacket and adjusting you, as you cling to him eagerly. “Need you.”
“Fuck if I don’t need you, driving me insane.” He grumbles, adjusting himself then, and soon you’re in the elevator, kissing again, riding up to Sukuna’s penthouse, you have your phone going off and he scowls at it. “Better not be him.”
“It may be Miwa.” You take a breath as you look at the phone, smiling then, it’s just a little picture of Touma happily grinning with a cookie, you show Sukuna, and he sees your damn face light up, making him falter a bit.
God you’re beautiful lit up.
Sukuna would do anything to keep you this way.
“He’s getting spoiled. Sukuna, thank you for this… I was so worried, being away for a night but… I can’t wait.” You say softly, as you step inside, you barely get to look around however, because he’s pressing you against a wall, leaning low and grinning now, white teeth glinting under soft white lights from the high ceiling.
“I hope you can keep up with me, brat.” He says, before picking you up in his arms like you’re nothing, pulling the hair at the nape of your neck. “You’re getting no sleep tonight.”
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Kuna is so in love already aha. Part three coming soon (just like Kuna about to lol) There will be a LOT more drama and plot along with some freaky ass smut and a whole fuck session next chap. If you wanna get tagged and aren't already on one of the lists just lmk - also omg ty for the love on the first part!?!?!
Taglist #1 - @naammiii @naina326 @1worm1 @yenayaps @shokosbunny @sukubusss @msniks @kittyyyyykats @nyxly1412 @trashsuarecan @dumbbunny98 @monster-effer @tojis-ball-sack @tangsakura @friesnkwtchup @uhnosav @lhhlver @attackonnat @moonchhu @mat-mat-mat @cherryjain17 @havkjhdecs @stargirl-mayaa @waterfal-ling @the-dark-creature @lulunx @minaa-06 @spacefae-x @deitysdream @sorahatake @gojoscumslut @stainednailpolishremover @kidd3ath @clp-84 @rinkomei @catastayy @oneirataxiaa @inthedarkshadows000 @travistheaussie @cold-blooded-girls @emi311 @blublublubby @fluttershyfangs @actuallynarii @7thsthings @ilovemeni @erluu @for-hearthand-home @angellliqua
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gooobraghhh · 2 days ago
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I’ve successfully completely broken a mutual of mine and it has been so fun
I’ve talked about @the-kennel-keeper on here a few times but I think I really need to display the whole picture.
He started out like most of my followers, a puppy boy anon in my askbox that had a massive crush on me, but I had happened to follow his account along with like 10 others that were in the trans nsft tag when I first made this blog. He sent me an anonymous ask about realizing I followed him and how it got him so exited but he spam liked me like right before he sent it which made it exceedingly obvious who he was. That little pathetic mistake that was rip for being made fun of was the first thing that got me interested and his general tendency to accidentally humiliate himself or be easily tricked has remained extremely adorable. He finally dm’d me some message about how much he loves my blog since he wanted my direct attention and he did one of those ask games where one of the questions was like “who’s your tumbr crush?” and of course I asked him that one anonymously.
Surprise surprise he says me and at that point I’d sort of gathered too much dirt on him to let it go to waste and I really didn’t even try. We flirted, he talked about how he was only submissive in an extremely defiant, bratty way and how he basically can’t be tamed which just made him all the more alluring of a target for me. He did act like that for a while, but I built up to this perfect demeaning message where I revealed both of my little secrets on him and he just had no choice but to give in. The message ended with me telling him that I own him and I managed to get a “Yes ma’am” in response. He got so worked up that night that he finally got himself off after not being able to for months. I think that’s when I truly gained control over him.
Since then I’ve been slowly training him more and more. Learning exactly what gets him flustered and makes him tick. He started being more obedient, begging on command, singing my praises. A month or two later and the progress is undeniable. Hes cum for me a total of ~10 times (probably more than that, he couldn’t remember the exact number at first but I let him round down) 5 of which have been in the last 24 hours. He volunteered to send me audios of him jerking off and praising how good he’s been trained, he responds “yes ma’am” to basically every command I give him.
I know him so well that I can make him kind of shut down and give in from just a sentence or two of dirty talk. I mean I really pushed him today and yesterday and he couldn’t help but get himself off several times while recording it for me.
This man genuinely thought he was untamable, before talking to me he hadn’t even cum in months, but I’ve taken real good care of my new mutt. Thoroughly corrupted him into my perfect toy. Sometimes I even give him dirt on me just to give him a fighting chance but he’s so pathetic it doesn’t even matter. He’s had sex dreams about me and has chatted with me while around his friends, desperately trying to keep his composure.
So I’m starting a counter in my pinned of how many times he’s cum while thinking of me. It’s only fair I get to show off my hard work I think. We can all enjoy seeing how fucking pitifully submissive my mutt is.
And you can be jealous of him while that number ticks up because I know there’s a lot of you that’d kill to be in his position.
Exited to see how fast I can get keep the number increasing.
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greengoblinswifey · 2 days ago
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could you do a story where frontman is readers sugar daddy, please and thank you I ❤️ your writing.
Luxury & Lies— Hwang In-ho x Fem!Reader
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summary— Being In-ho’s sugar baby came with luxuries beyond your wildest dreams. You never questioned where his wealth came from, only cared about what you could get out of him. But when you stumbled upon the truth, the Squid Game and the power he held as the Front Man, you knew exactly how to use it to your advantage. And In-ho? He’d do anything to keep you.
warnings— Sugar daddy!in-ho, manipulation, cunnilingus, body worship, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fluff.
a/n— Thank you and enjoy <3
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Youth and beauty on the outside was not eternal, that being said, you were always one to use it to your advantage.
It was by using those assets that caused you to stumble upon Hwang In-ho. He was an older yet very attractive man and obviously very wealthy. You knew how to play the game right and the night you had met In-ho, you were seated in the lounge area of an upscale restaurant that was famous for transactions like this.
He slipped into the seat next to you, decked in an expensive suit and as soon as you flipped your hair and tilted your head, he was sold.
You didn’t have to say much, especially when it came to older men, you let him do the talking, you were just there to look pretty and get what you want. And you got way more than you bargained for being Hwang In-ho’s sugar baby.
In-ho always gave you what you wanted. That was the foundation of your arrangement. You asked, and he delivered—no questions, no hesitations. It started with luxury handbags and designer clothes and shoes, then first class trips and five star hotels, and before you knew it, you had an entire apartment paid for in your name and a collection of jewelry that could make royalty jealous.
Being with In-ho meant being spoiled, but it also meant playing your role. You were his eye candy at every event, the one in his arm in dresses he picked out for you, flashing a smile that made investors and business partners envious. You liked the life you lived, liked the way people looked at you when you walked into a room together.
You never questioned how he could afford it all. What did it matter? You weren’t with him for his morality, you were with him for what he could give you.
But then you found out.
It had been an accident, really. You were in his office at the penthouse, bored and nosy, and you stumbled across a locked drawer in his desk. He always kept things private, but this was different, the secrecy intrigued you. So you looked until you found the key, expecting maybe some business documents or an old affair he never wanted you to know about.
You didn’t expect tapes.
Or the footage of people being slaughtered.
You sat frozen, watching clips from the so called Squid Game, men and women gunned down like animals, the screams piercing even through the speakers of his monitor. And there, in the midst of it all, was him—your sugar daddy, the man who paid for your lifestyle, standing over it all in that black mask.
The Front Man.
The truth settled like ice in your veins, but strangely, you weren’t horrified. You were curious.
For the first time since meeting In-ho, you had leverage.
So, you confronted him.
You remembered the way he looked at you when you brought it up. The sharp inhale. The slight flinch. He had tried to keep you in the dark for a reason, because, deep down, he feared this exact moment.
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” he said, voice carefully neutral.
“Yeah?” You folded your arms. “Well, I did.”
A pause. A long, heavy silence. And then, a confession. He admitted everything. How long he had been in charge. What the games really were. The money, the power, the control.
“I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore,” he said eventually, looking down. “I won’t stop you.”
That was the moment you could have walked away. Should have, maybe. But you had no intention of leaving.
Instead, you put on a show, acted like you needed time, like you were shaken and unsure. Let him panic, let him compensate.
And, oh, did he compensate.
A brand new penthouse apartment, yours, fully paid for. A car, your dream model, delivered to your doorstep. Cash in your account, a credit card linked to his bank account. Jewelry, vacations, an all expenses paid trip with your homegirls on his private jet, all while he stayed behind, giving you space.
He only texted you once.
“Let me know when you're ready to talk.”
When you had everything you wanted, you decided it was time.
The night you returned, he was already waiting in your penthouse, standing by the windows with a glass of whiskey.
“You look beautiful,” he said, scanning your outfit like he hadn’t seen you in weeks, which he hadn’t. “Did you have a good trip?”
“It was perfect,” you said, slipping off your coat and letting it drop onto the couch. “Thanks to you.”
He exhaled softly, nodding. “And are you ready to talk?”
“I am,” you said as you walked toward him slowly, heels clicking against the floor.
He tensed. You could see it in the way his fingers curled slightly against the glass, like he was bracing himself for the worst.
“You kept a huge secret from me, In-ho,” you murmured, stopping just inches away. “That’s not something I can just forgive overnight.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry. For all of it.”
“I bet you are.” You reached for his tie, giving it a gentle tug. “But sorry isn’t enough. You have to earn my trust again.”
His breathing hitched. “Anything,” he murmured, voice low. “Just tell me what I need to do.”
You smiled, slow and sultry. “Good,” you said, stepping backward toward the bedroom. “Then follow me.” And just like that, he did.
You led him across the penthouse, never looking back, because you didn’t need to, you could feel his presence behind you, could feel the heat of his stare. By the time you reached the bedroom, you stopped at the edge of the bed, tilting your head just slightly over your shoulder.
He was watching you with hungry, dark eyes, scanning every inch of you. And then, you let yourself fall back against the silk sheets, stretching out, parting your legs to make your point.
His breath came uneven. “You—”
“You said you’d do anything,” you murmured, hooking a leg around his waist and pulling him closer. “Show me.”
Something inside him snapped.
He was on you in seconds, his hands gripping you, lips crashing against yours with a desperation you had never felt from him before. He wasn’t just indulging you—he was proving himself.
For the rest of the night, he did exactly that.
Because at the end of the day, you always got what you wanted.
The second In-ho had you beneath him, it was like something inside him broke loose. His hands were at your clothes in an instant, fabric tearing under his grip as he stripped you naked. The sound of ripping seams filled the air, followed by a sharp gasp from you as cool air met your skin.
“In-ho—”
“Shh, baby,” he murmured, dark eyes flickering over you like he was soaking up every inch to memory.
His lips were on you before you could respond, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, over your breasts. His lips were everywhere, like he was trying to worship and make it up to you.
Then he was lower, his mouth pressing against your stomach, his hands holding you steady as you squirmed.
“Fuck,” you whimpered, breath catching.
“Look at you,” he groaned. “So perfect. Always so goddamn perfect for me.”
And then, he had you unraveling.
The first stroke of his tongue against your pussy had your back arching, fingers twisting into the sheets as pleasure shot through you like lightning. He moaned against you, gripping your thighs to hold you still, but you couldn’t—not when he was devouring you like this, like he had been starved for you.
“You taste so good,” he murmured against your pussy, pressing a kiss between every stroke of his tongue. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
You barely heard him past the pleasure that built and built with every expert movement of his mouth. He was relentless, slow at first, savoring you, but when he felt you tense, when he heard the way you gasped his name, he tightened his grip and ravished you with ferocity that had your legs shaking.
“That’s it,” he rasped. “Cum for me, baby. Let me hear you.”
And when you finally came, when you cried out so loud you swore the whole city could hear, he only held you through it, kissing your thighs, whispering praises against your heated skin.
“You’re a dream,” he breathed, pressing a lingering kiss just below your navel. “So beautiful. So good for me.”
In-ho didn’t stop. Even after you were left trembling beneath him, after your breath was still shaky and your body tingled from the aftershocks, he kept kissing you, soft presses of his lips against your skin.
“You're everything,” he murmured between kisses, trailing from your chest to your lips. “More than I deserve.”
The way you shivered when his fingers brushed your breasts, the way your breath hitched when he pressed a kiss just below your chest. He worshiped you, whispering apologies against your skin.
“Forgive me,” he said, forehead resting against yours. “For everything. For keeping things from you, for being selfish enough to want you despite it all.”
You cupped his face, brushing your thumbs over his cheekbones. “You're not losing me,” you promised softly, and the way his eyes darkened told you he believed you—but he needed to prove himself anyway.
His mouth found yours in a desperate kiss, hands gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you. You felt him—all of him, hard and heavy against your thigh.
Another thing about In-ho? He was the full package. The biggest you’d had, the biggest you probably ever would have, and he knew exactly how to use it.
He smirked at the way you swallowed hard, his hands skimming down your sides, teasing, making you wait.
“You always act like such a brat,” he murmured, pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck. “Like you don’t need me.” His hand wrapped around your thigh, pulling you flush against him. “But then I get you like this, and you melt for me.”
“In-ho,” you gasped, gripping his shoulders.
“Shh, baby,” he murmured, dragging it out, making you feel every inch of his cock as he slowly pressed against your folds. “Let me take care of you.”
And when he finally gave in, when he finally stopped teasing and claimed you, it was deep, slow, possessive. He worshiped you, murmuring praises against your lips, against your skin. He filled you inch by inch, your pussy quivering around him.
“You're perfect,” he groaned. “Such a good girl for me.”
Your nails dug into his back, legs tightening around him as he pulled you closer, right on his dick. Every slow, deep stroke unraveled you, and he felt everything, the way you clung to him, the way you gasped his name like a prayer.
“That’s it, baby,” he coaxed, pressing his forehead to yours. “Give it to me. Cum.”
And when you finally did, when you cried out and your body tensed beneath him, he held you through it, his own breath ragged, his grip tightening like he never wanted to let you go.
He didn’t pull away right away—just kissed you through it, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your lips. Soon, you felt the rush of his cum filling you up and his soft moans in your ear.
“Mine,” he murmured against your skin. “You’re mine.”
In-ho never just left you after. That wasn’t who he was.
No matter how intense things got, no matter how desperate or needy, he always made sure to take care of you after.
Tonight was no different.
He pressed a kiss to your temple before slipping away, only to return moments later with a warm cloth. He handled you carefully, murmuring soft praises as he cleaned you up, whispering apologies when you flinched from sensitivity. His touch was steady, so unlike the man who ran the most brutal game in existence. With you, he was different.
“You okay, baby?” he asked, running a hand down your thigh as he finished.
You nodded sleepily, reaching for him. “Mhm.”
That was all he needed to hear. He tossed the cloth aside and pulled you into his arms, shifting until you were resting on his chest, his fingers tracing circles into your skin.
“I’ll prove myself to you every day,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll always be here for you.”
You hummed in response, half asleep against him, but he knew you heard him.
That was something about In-ho, you knew this arrangement was transactional, but there was something deeply intimate in the way he held you after, in the way he needed to keep you close, like he was afraid you’d slip away in the night.
Even now, his grip on you was firm.
“You’re so good to me,” you mumbled, fingertips skimming his jaw.
“You deserve it,” he murmured, eyes half lidded as he looked down at you. “And more.”
He held you like that for the rest of the night, whispering sweet nothings, pressing lazy kisses to your hair. You didn’t need to say it out loud, but you both knew, no matter how complicated things were, he wasn’t letting you go.
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aleskie · 22 hours ago
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YOU DON'T NEED TO LIFT A FINGER | Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: When a guy just cannot get the hint, Jack makes sure to put him in his place. He's got your back. Always.
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Warnings: none!! pure fluff and jack gets protective!! Full discloure, this is for realsies Fem!Reader!! Author's Note: This was supposed to come out a dayyyyys ago but Tumblr was NOT letting me post my drafts 😭😭 my poor therapist spent an hour watching me crash out about it najsjsshjjk
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You were beautiful.
Of course you were.
In Jack’s eyes, you were the most beautiful creature to ever walk the earth.
Which is why he understands why you get hit on. He really does. Hell, once upon a time, he was hitting on you. And he still hits on you, even now, years into the relationship, because you’re worth it. Because you light up rooms without even trying. Because he’s always been a sucker for the way you roll your eyes and smile at his cheesy attempts to be smooth with you.
You’re beautiful and smart and funny, and you’re so effortlessly charming—of course people would want you for themselves. He gets it. He really does. And honestly, there’s a part of him that loves it. He loves that people notice those qualities about you, that they see in you what he sees every day. It feels like validation, like the universe itself is confirming that he’s the luckiest guy alive. He basks in the knowledge that no matter how many people give you those hungry looks and shitty pick-up lines, he’s the one you're coming home with, his hand resting possessively on your hip as he gives all those people a smirk, his claim laid without him even lifting a finger.
What he doesn’t love is when people don’t take the damn hint.
And you give a lot of hints.
Take this guy right here—Dave, or Doug, or whatever his name is—He’d somehow wiggled his way into the booth you guys shared with your friends for a night out and, while he seemed harmless at first, he was now solely focused on you. And your legs that were highlighted by the body shimmer Jack helped put on you earlier tonight (his fingers still slightly shimmering to prove it—a badge of honor, in his opinion).
You’d been giving him that polite, fake smile since he joined in—the one Jack knows so well and that always makes him chuckle, the one you use when you’re being patient but are clearly not enjoying yourself—and you’ve barely paid him any attention, save for a few fake laughs and an “Oh, that sounds cool” every so often as Darren, or Dino, continues to brag about himself, not even trying to ask about you (a grave mistake, Jack thinks, since you were the most interesting person he knew).
Jack wonders if this guy even realizes you’ve been leaning against Jack this entire time, your head on his shoulder and his hand resting on your upper thigh, or if he’s chosen to ignore that in favor of trying (and failing) to shoot his shot. Better yet, does he even recognize Jack is here, drink untouched and jaw tightening as he watches Danny (or was it Dylan) lean in just a little too close?
Jack glances at you. You’re still handling it with grace, of course you are. You always do. But he knows you. He sees the subtle tension in your shoulders, the way you lean further against him to put some distance between you and Dexter, the way your fingers tighten around your glass, and he knows you’d rather not have to deal with this.
He shifts slightly and stands, leaning forward to smile at the intruder, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Hey, Diego, right?” he says. His tone is casual, even pleasant, but there’s steel underneath it.
“It’s Dave, actua—”
Jack extends a hand, cutting through the guy’s attempt at small talk. “Right, yeah. Sorry to interrupt, but I think my girlfriend and I are gonna go dance now.”
He puts an emphasis on girlfriend, just to make sure this guy gets the point.
Jack gives you a soft look, the kind that makes your breath hitch just a little, and you immediately stand up, reaching for him. His arm wraps around you instinctively, his touch steady and familiar. You can already feel the tension in his body lessening now that he has you close, now that he’s leading you away from whatever-his-name-is and back into the safe, easy rhythm of you and him.
But before you can leave, the guy speaks again.
“Sorry, man, didn’t realize she was yours. You know how women are. With that dress and those legs, she was totally leading me on.”
Jack freezes.
For a second, the world seems to pause, almost like he couldn’t believe what was coming out of this guy’s mouth, like he didn’t want to believe anyone could be that stupid.
Slowly, he straightens, turning back toward the guy—Dave or Doug or whatever his name was—with a look so calm it’s almost serene. Too calm. And that’s how you know Jack is angry.
Not the playful kind of angry, where he pretends to pout when you steal the last fry or kiss him everywhere but his lips. Not the frustrated kind, like when he can’t find his keys for the third time that week or when he’s had a particularly bad game.
No, this is something deeper. Colder. Controlled.
His fingers graze your arm lightly, a small, grounding touch meant just for you. It’s subtle, but you know what it means. I’ve got this. You don’t need to lift a finger.
Jack tilts his head ever so slightly. “You wanna say that again?” His voice is so even it borders on soft, a quiet thing wrapped in steel.
Dave—or Dino or Darryl—seems to think Jack is inviting him to elaborate, which is perhaps the worst decision he’s made all night.
“I’m just saying, y’know,” Dave shrugs, his tone shifting to something almost conspiratorial, like he thinks Jack might actually agree with him if he just explains it better. “When women dress like that, you can’t blame a guy for—”
“Yeah, I’m gonna need you to shut up before I do something we both regret.”
Jack doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t have to. The weight of his words alone is enough to send a ripple of silence through the space between them.
Dave blinks, the beginning stages of intimidation creeping onto his face. He glances at you, as if expecting backup, but you’re already leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised as you watch Jack dismantle him.
There’s a small smirk on your lips. Because this? This was a sight you didn’t get to see in public too often.
Many times, people assumed your lovely boyfriend—so easygoing, so effortlessly charming—would lack the sharpness to cut someone down when needed, would stick to uhmms and ahhhs and crassnes.
They mistook his laid-back nature for passivity, his warmth for softness. But you knew better. Your Jack could be quite a wonder with words when he wanted to be. He didn’t need to be loud to command attention. He didn’t need to throw a punch to land a hit.
So you hang back and let him handle this one, finding comfort in the thought of his arms around you later, his breath warm against your ear as you danced the rest of the night away.
“Listen, buddy,” Jack continues, stepping closer. His tone is light, almost conversational, but there’s no mistaking the edge beneath it. “You don’t talk to anyone like that. You definitely don’t get to talk to her like that. You hear me?”
“God, c’mon, man! No need to get all—”
“I already told you to shut up.” Jack’s scowl deepens. His words are slow, deliberate. “The fact that she was polite enough to give you the slightest bit of attention doesn’t mean she was hitting on you. Whatever you thought was going on tonight? Not an invitation.”
Dave—Dino? Derek?—opens his mouth, probably to dig himself into an even deeper hole, but stops when Jack leans in slightly, just enough to make his presence feel heavier. Like a storm cloud about to break.
“She’s kind,” Jack says, voice quieter now, deadlier. “So she tolerated you. But she doesn’t owe you a fucking thing.”
The last of Dave’s bravado starts to crumble. His shoulders inch inward, his gaze flickering around the booth, searching for an exit, for reinforcements—for anything that might save him from this moment.
Jack watches him for a second longer, then exhales sharply, like he’s already bored. “You think being desperate and cocky gets you the girl,” he says, shaking his head. “But I don’t need any of that to keep her by my side.” His fingers brush against yours, finding their place like they always do. “And we don’t need to waste any more time entertaining douchebags like you.”
Jack steps back, his hand sliding fully into yours as he finally tears his gaze from Daniel? Don?—who cares?—and looks at you instead. The shift is immediate, his features easing, the sharpness in his eyes softening into something familiar. Something yours.
“Let’s go, babe,” he says simply, his voice lighter now, more like himself.
And just like that, the moment is over.
As you stand, letting Jack guide you away from the booth, you hear Dave mutter something under his breath—something weak and defensive that doesn’t deserve acknowledgment. It’s the kind of parting shot people throw out when they know they’ve lost. Neither of you glance back.
The music swells around you, the bass thrumming beneath your feet, but Jack doesn’t lead you straight to the dance floor. Instead, he pulls you toward a quieter corner, away from the crowd, where the lights are dimmer, the world a little smaller.
He exhales, then wordlessly nestles his head in the crook of your shoulder.
You smile, running your fingers through his hair, your nails lightly grazing his scalp. He sighs at the touch, his arms slipping around your waist as he lets himself melt into you for just a moment. You press a soft kiss to his hair, breathing him in, grounding both of you in something steady, something real.
After a beat, he tilts his head up, a sheepish grin playing at his lips. “Did I go overboard?”
You roll your eyes fondly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You were absolutely perfect,” you murmur, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.
His grin widens, boyish and bright, and just like that, the weight of the night lifts. He tugs you closer, his arm tightening around your waist as he starts to sway you to the music. You laugh as he spins you unexpectedly, sneaking in kisses between the DJ’s transitions, his lips catching your temple, your jaw, the curve of your shoulder.
The man who bothered you is forgotten. The tension, the sharp edges of the night—gone.
All that’s left is this. You and him and the music. The warmth of his hands on you, the sound of your laughter melting together, the rest of the world fading into nothing.
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fictoweirdoesten · 2 days ago
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This. Please, and say it louder for those in the back.
Not an only child but the eldest one. I live(d) with dysfunctional parents throughout my life and a dysfunctional mess myself because of it. Had a younger sister who I fought constantly and never got along with but was expected to watch over and take care of her when I couldn't even get close without her snapping at me for whatever reason. Never kept friendships for too long and like a month ago I thought I finally had someone who loved me for me but then suddenly became cold and distant for no reason whatsoever other than, according to them, a feeling they "couldn't control".
A month later and Caleb, a man who literally wants to be with MC so bad that he promised a whole ass garden for her, comes into my life and steals my heart just like that. Despite his red flags, the feeling of being loved and wanted, that feeling I've been deprived of my whole life, I finally got that with Caleb...I know I'm not MC, but damnit I'd really love to be, and I'll be delulu and self-insert myself whenever I can.
It just annoys me when people are so clueless as to why anyone would fall for a guy like Caleb...but it makes sense for someone to question why if they've never been in the shoes of someone who fall for men/people like him: Possessive and Needy, because for once people like me want to feel like we're needed somewhere, like we belong, and that they'll never leave us alone no matter what.
Pardon the SOBBING.
Someone on love and deepspace twitter mentioned that "Caleb is for the only child daughters," but they also included eldest daughters.
Caleb is for the ones that grew up with no one to rely on, who grew up and matured too fast, and ALONE.
As a guy who had lots of half-siblings (one of my parents decided to have too many kids *bombastic side eye*) and never grew up with any of them, BUT I was considered the most mature out of my cousins and subsequently had to take care of them when my older teenage cousins and the adults decided to fuck around and abandon us, that hit hard. Like
"Wdym, Caleb is openly giving me someone to rely on? Who's practically BEGGING me to call him when I need something or someone?¿?¿¿ When it's my turn to ask for help after years of "I dunno, you figure it out." Now, it's my turn to be sheltered and taken care of by someone who has been in love and obsessed with me since we were kids?¿¿?" Bc, I Am Tired. Like, "Sorry, mom and dad I'm not the perfect Asian child that wanted to become a doctor."
This bitch even notices when we have a little booboo on our finger. From a photograph.
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I know I'm laughing and joking around with Caleb's whole lowkey yandere🤪theme, but I wish someone irl were this forward and caring for me.
And one more thing, someone responded to me that they like to immerse themself into MC and that they feel like they can "be themselves" with Caleb (bc MC very much has her own personality and she acts slightly different with each LI), compared to with the other LI's where they felt like they need to be more badass, more clever, more snarky. And I felt that. I like Rafayel, but I'm genuinely not an optimistic person who can keep up with him. I like Sylus, but sometimes I don't want to "handle it" and be MORE than who I am now. I like Zayne and Xavier, but I wholly understand that I am a toxic person and they don't deserve to take the brunt of my mental health.
Edit: I have to mention it, or else people will get the wrong idea, apparently. It's blatantly obvious each love interest supports and loves MC no matter what–that should be an unspoken law in LaDS. What I didn't say is "Sylus Never supports or helps MC."
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lostinlovingrevery · 2 days ago
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Logan When You're Pregnant
I got baby fever rn, some here's some headcanons for when you get pergananant (am I pergot?) with Lo's baby
(breeding kink go brrrrr)(nsfw section below the fluff stuff)
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First off, I think we can all agree that no matter what variant Logan it is, whether it's planned or an accident, he's gonna freak out initially when you both find out your pregnant
He'll keep the initial freakout under wraps though.
70s!Dofp Logan, Old man Logan, and Trilogy Logan would probably be the most freaked out
The others, like Origins, Future DOFP, who are a bit more settled in would probably be more ready
Worst Logan? You're gonna need to give him a hug
Moving on
They all step up though, don't worry
Even 70s DOFP, he may be a menace but he sure as hell ain't gonna leave you or his baby alone
ANYWAY
Logan is so supportive of you. He'll constantly be checking on you. He'll be nesting almost immediately so get ready
He will definitely become more protective too. Like a lot. He'll try his best to not be overbearing but he's went lot of his life losing those he loves. He absolutely cannot afford to lose you and ya'lls baby
Lets say for this that you two are in an established relationship, planned or not, I'll leave that to ya'lls lovely imaginations
hes there for every doctors trip, exam, sonogram, etc etc. he doesn't miss a thing and holds your hand the entire time
The first trimester is rough. Mood swings, morning sickness, aches and pain. Logan handles your mood swings like a pro. He always knows just what to say, and he never really can take it personal when you get an attitude with him- mainly bc he likely deserved it with his own sarcasm
He's patient with you when you get snippy at him. He'll give you space when you need it, or will be extra attentive. Whatever you want. He's learned to read your emotions
He'll hold your hair back and rub your back whenever the morning sickness hits. Get you some tea, maybe a little toast if you feel like you can hold it down
One day you just couldn't hold anything down, by evening you're in tears, frustrated with everything. You attempted to eat some saltines and couldn't even hold those down. You're crying on the bathroom floor and Logan sits with you, cradling you in his arms as he says soothing things,
"You're so strong bub. You're gonna be okay. I'm right here."
You'll get backrubs and footrubs anytime you want
The food cravings and constantly being hungry becomes a lot too. It's fortunate that Logan had learned to be a decent cook over time.
He'll insist that you eat only healthy good foods for the baby, but when you look at him with pouty lips and pleading eyes because you REALLY want that extra cheese pizza topped with extra pepperonis and peppers, along with those garlic knots, and chocolate chip peanut butter ice cream, AND caramel sea salt chocolates. He has to give in. he's grabbing his keys and wallet to get what you want
Listen, you totally want to eat healthy for the baby too, and you do! You take your vitamins, you incorporate so much fruit and veggies and whatever else in your meals
But dammit sometimes that baby just wants fries dipped in ice cream and you learned how to sneak those unhealthy snacks under Logans radar
(or so you think, hes' got heightened sense of smell. he DEFINITELY smells the weird junk food you're sneaking)
You're tossing and turning one night, feeling restless and just wanting to eat. You wake him up, chatty as hell and eventually you tell him you want something to eat
"Bub you just had a whole meal 2 hours ago"
"I know just something small. Like a poptart. or a rice krispie"
He sighs. "No more poptarts or rice kripies. I'll make you something."
He closes his eyes, expecting to get another few minutes of sleep before he goes to the kitchen, but he can't feel you staring at him. Hard. He took a breath, pushing the blankets off as he got himself out of bed, heading to the kitchen to make you a good healthy snack
don't worry, he's not mad. he actually finds he loves the pregnancy quirks of yours
when you start getting those random hormone rushes, bursts of energy, running around doing anything and everything he gets so amused. but he loves it too when you also start getting sleepy
he really loves it when you get sleepy because then all you want to do is snuggle with him.
you get borderline violent about cuddling with him. you wrap your entire self around his body and you do not let go. even with his strength it's nearly impossible to peel you off him and if he does (he made the mistake once) you get extremely pissy and teary eyed
He will not let you do anything
and by that i mean you're not carrying groceries, you're not cleaning, you are not allowed to stand on ladders or counters, no picking up heavy things
You and him have a time of night and morning where you snuggle, and he'll designate time to talk to you, give you kisses and say sweet things, and then he'll move to talk to your belly
"Gotta make sure the lil one knows my voice"
He loves resting his ear on your belly, hearing both of your heartbeats.
he'll give you a kiss, then the belly, then you again
You better be ready to be touched a lot. He's always gotta put his hand on you somehow. It's not just about feeling your preggo belly but just you too.
NESTING
yeah, hes gonna drive you insane. He gets the urge to redo everything. the babys room. your room. the entire house/apartment if you're living in one.
He makes your bed the comfiest spot every so that's a perk. tons of pillows, only the fluffiest and warmest blankets
while you make decisions on the babys room together, he really wants to put the stuff together, so you sit in your rocking chair in the room and watch him as he gets angry over the crib instructions
it's really cute when he insists on a more foresty/woodland themed room for your baby.
As you get bigger, he gets more and more protective
he actually growled at someone once for attempting to touch your belly without permission. not a bad thing to have at least
it's a little more embarrassing though when it's your friends that you did say could touch your belly and logans hackles raise over it
he tries to recognize when he's doing too much but he can't help it, instinct.
Logan is over the moon when the baby kicks the face time
he just happened to have his hands resting on your belly
when he felt it, you both jumped, staring at your belly and then each other
when you realized it was the baby kicking, you both were like giddy teenagers
logan puts his head against your belly, waiting for it when the baby kicks again- right on his face
he gets slightly offended
but he kisses your belly anyway, promising your baby that he's always going to love them and take care of them
it pulls on your heart strings a bit
you and logan don't care if it's a boy or girl- and decide to leave it a surprise,
arguing over baby names though wasn't fun. you eventually though land on a name if its a girl, and a name if its a boy, names that you both adored
when you start shopping for baby clothes, logans looking at the little girl dresses and you could see the softness on his face, the way he adored the little dresses.
he can't even get embarrassed
it's so cute watching logan sit in the middle of the girly baby aisle, surrounded by pink bows.
he gets equally excited over the boys stuff too.
forever believe logan will just be a great dad in general
when you get big enough where doing things are hard on your own, logan starts definitely not leaving you alone very often
he helps you out of bed
with your shoes
if hes around and you're trying to get up from a couch or chair- even if you aren't struggling he'll still be there to help you up
you ever see those trends where dads hold mommas belly up to provide some relief? logan will insist on doing that.
he just thinks your so damn cute with your round belly
logan will eventually express his nerves about being a father. he'll need reassurance here and there that you think he'll do good.
you think logan would be an absolutely wonderful father of course. look how good he takes care of you
not to mention his non-bio daughters like jubilee, rogue, and kitty
and if lauras around too, it won't be like he never had any experience
logan will definitely stay calm and collected when you go into labor
he supports you every step of the way
if you're going to a local hospital, you bet your ass he'll be speaking for you and protecting you from anything unneccessary
all the while supporting you every way possible. don't worry about squeezing his hand too hard. he literally survived a nuke
despite the amount of things he's seen, it is still hard for him to see you in so much pain. he may even hold back a tear or two. he has to focus on you though
when the baby is here, he's all over you first, making sure you're okay. then his instincts kick in and he's all over the baby
that first cry breaks his heart and he doesn't like how the nurses and doctors seemed pleased by the whole thing. okay sure, it's a good thing. his baby is still crying though and he doesn't appreciate the smiling
you guys ever see that picture of Hugh bottlefeeding his newborn, i think it was during the x-movies filming. that is such a cute picture honestly it makes my utereus clench
he's so proud and supportive of you by the way. He takes wonderful care of you both when you get home
all that worrying for nothing. he was a pro with yours and his baby.
NSFW (mention piv, breastmilk, body worship)
yes i had to include an nsfw part here dont judge me
Logan should have known it would happen eventually. the way he always needs to finish inside you. even if you were using protection, he should have known that it would fail one day
he'll pick up on the hormones quickly, the smell of you triggers something in him and once you both figure out you'll pregnant itll all make sense
at first things are pretty usual with your sex life but the hormones start kicking in
you start gaining a little fat, your breasts get bigger, maybe your ass
you were already irresistable to logan before. now though, pregnant with his baby?
like i said, the mans always touching on you. when youre in private though hes REALLY touching you
don't worry, you feel the same. your hormones start to really kick in and you're aroused 24/7 and he can smell it
"you look so fucking good like this bub." he'll moan when he's thrusting into you, seeing your swollen belly and breasts.
it's not just about you being pregnant but you two just can't keep your hands off each other because you're happy.
your sex life was already very active, now it's even MORE active, like, you cannot keep your hands off him. he's the same way. you look and smell so damn good he can't take it, he HAS to fuck you
logan being a dad to your baby is making him 10 times hotter
logan probably cuts back on being rougher if you both are into that, much to your disdain. your hormones are on fire and you need him to fuck you hard
it takes a little begging and he breaks, giving you what you want
"look at you bub, fucking begging for it. as if i hadn't given you enough already"
logan practically drools anytime he sees you naked
as you get really big, sex becomes less common because you're not really comfortable, and maybe doctors tell yalls to slow it down for a bit.
logan will of course not do anything to risk you or the baby but fuck when you walk around in that tight black dress, tits and belly all swollen. he can barely stand it.
fortunately even if you aren't having penetrative sex, you're still fairly aroused so logan gets to get off to your hand or mouth. he'll return the favor with some light oral
he'll want to help you shower all the time
you're just so beautiful to him.
when you start getting self conscious over your weight gain, logan won't have it. he'll be doing some serious body worship doing your pregnancy, don't worry.
kissing your stretch marks, his hand rubbing soothingly all over your body as he whispers how beautiful you are
when it's closer to your due date, the doctor gives you a list of recommendations to help get things rolling
when logan finds out sex is one of those things, he's over the moon.
you personally, just want to get the mini canadian out of there at this point
it's not the first thing you try, because youre self conscious despite logans affirmations that he thinks you're so sexy
eventually you give in
lets just say you both were on the way to labor and delivery soon after
he adores your body after birth too. like i said. body worship to the maximum. even when you're not banging cause you need to heal first, he's kissing every inch of you to make sure you know he adores you. he sees how you've looked at yourself in the mirror and he isn't gonna have it
oh btw he'll definitely accidentally taste your breast milk straight from the source at some point. he really doesn't do it on purpose, he just got lost in kissing and sucking on you.
lost in the sauce if you may
he wants you to heal and feel good though, so even after the 3 months are up, he'll want to wait a little longer, because he doesn't want to hurt you. he's a big man.
EXTRAS: (random stuff )
the people who are around you are ecstatic over the announcement of your pregnancy
charles is just glad he gets to be a grandpappy (as if he isn't already)
maybe jean and scott are expecting too, or already have their little one, so you guys bond with the couple over parenting as well
wade immediately refers to himself as uncle wade
will also say "our baby" when referring to you and logans baby. logan does not like that.
wade makes a deadpool onesie. you have to stop logan from tearing it apart
okay but a onesie based on logans suit would be so goddamn cute
i said before that logan doesn't like ANYONE touching your belly. even if it's a trusted friend
if someone asks, very politely, you have to make sure logan isn't around before you say yes.
one time hank asked and you said yes, not realizing logan was coming around the corner. it was really embarrassing the way logan ran up so fast, immediately pushing hanks hand off.
hank laughed it off
im sure yall have your own ideas for what yours and logans baby names would be. I think Charlie would be really cute, naming the baby after charles (and it's a gn name!)
rogue, jubilee, and kitty, would be over the moon. they would be so supportive of you and logan
laura would be so excited, a bit curious. you and logan will make sure she doesn't in anyway feel neglected or replaced during the entire pregnancy and when the baby comes
laura is obviously a great big sister.
they would definitely tease logan too btw
you guys don't even need to register. due to the people you love around you- you basically get everything you need before you 3rd trimester even starts
you and logan can be assured that your baby will always be safe and loved no matter what because of the family you both have found. (yes even with origins and old man logan)
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i2sunric · 11 hours ago
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HAPPY VALENTINE’S, BABY (l.hs)
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PAIRING: heeseung x reader (f)
SUMMARY: you decide to get your nails done for valentine’s day, fully expecting they’d be wrapped around heeseung by the time you got home.
WARNING: smut, blow job, established relationship, mentions of creampie and sex, hand job, dirty talking, pet names (baby), meandom!heeseung, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.
WC: 1.1k
PUBLISHED: February 4th 2025
TAGLIST: @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @jakeflvrz @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @cloud-lyy @who-tf-soddhi @enhamonsterghoul
a/n: well, sorry for disappearing, but i’m into writing again nowadays and might publish small drafts i was able to finish! let me know if you liked it, and please REBLOG & SHARE!
You'd spent the afternoon in the nail salon, finding just the right shade of red-deep, sultry, the color of wine and desire. The little black "H" painted onto the ring finger of your left hand was inconspicuous, but meant the world. A little mark of him, a reminder that no matter what, you were his.
Heeseung was already home when you arrived, sprawled across the couch and scrolling through his phone. At first, he barely looked up, greeting you with a soft, lazy, "Hey, baby."
But then you moved closer, holding out your hands for him to see, “Got my nails done for Valentine's," you said matter-of-factly, watching as his expression changes.
His eyes landed on your fingers, his brow arched a little as he took in the color, the ribbons you had attached, then— his initial.
The phone fell onto his lap as he reached out and tugged you closer into him. The pad of his thumb brushed over the small "H," and his jaw slightly clenched.
"You did this for me?" His voice was lower now, the playful tone replaced with something darker, something more possessive that never failed to make heat pool at your stomach.
You smiled, all fake oblivious "Of course. Who else would it be for?"
Heeseung’s lips curled into a smirk, but his grip on your wrist tightened. His eyes flicked up to yours, dark and full of intent. "You know what I’m thinking, right?"
You did. Oh, you did.
He pulled you onto his lap, guiding your newly manicured fingers to brush against the bulge in his sweats. Even through the fabric, you could feel how hard he was getting just from the thought alone.
"Fuck," he muttered, his head tipping back for a moment before snapping back to you. "You knew what you were doing getting these, didn't you?"
You tipped your head, innocently . "What do you mean?"
Heeseung let out a low, amused chuckle, but there was nothing light in the way he reached out, grasping at your chin and making you face him.
"You wanted me to see these and think about them wrapped around my cock, mh?" His thumb traced your lower lip, pressing in just enough to make your breath hitch. "Wanted me to lose my mind over you?" He then pressed in between your lips, making you suck on it.
Your stomach had contracted at his words, the heat pooling between your legs. You loved how he was like this— when teasing turned to something more, more intense and overwhelming.
"You're staring really hard, Hee," you whispered, letting your fingers trace up his chest, your touch light and teasing. "You wanna test them out?"
He exhaled sharply through his nostrils, the hold on your waist tightening as he shifted beneath you. "Get on your knees, baby."
The order ran a shiver down your spine, but you listened, falling off his lap and onto the floor between his legs.
He leaned back, hips rising enough to tug his sweats down and free his cock. Already hard, the tip glistened with precum, and the sight alone had your mouth watering.
"Show me what those pretty nails can do," he murmured, voice thick with desire. You wrapped your fingers around him, moving slow at first, letting him feel the cool polish against his hot skin. His breath hitched and his jaw clenched as he watched your every move.
"Fuck, that's so hot," he groaned, his hand tangling in your hair. "You have no idea how much I love this, baby."
You smirked, leaning in to press a teasing kiss to his tip before flicking your tongue against it, savoring the way his grip tightened, his thighs tensing beneath you.
"Happy Valentine's, Heeseung," you whispered before taking him into your mouth, giving him exactly what he wanted.
The groan that tore from Heeseung's throat was guttural, deep, like he'd been waiting for it all day. His hand in your hair fisted tighter, but he didn't push, didn't hurry you. He wanted to enjoy it.
"Fuck, baby," he muttered, voice already breathless as you took more of him in, your freshly manicured fingers stroking what your mouth couldn't reach. The cool gloss of the polish against his heated skin had him twitching in your grasp, his thighs tensing beneath you. "I’m gonna ruin you.”
You hummed around him, making him curse under his breath. His head tipped back against the couch as his chest rose and fell unsteadily with your movements in slow, measured tempo, allowing your tongue to swirl around the tip before sinking back down.
His free hand was clutched on the edge of the couch, his knuckles white. "God, you're so good at this," he groaned, looking down at you with dark, hooded eyes. "Look at you— fuck, you love this, don't you?
You met his gaze, your eyes wide and innocent as you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper. His grip on your hair tightened; his hips jerked up just slightly, just enough to make you gag. But you didn't pull away.
The wet sounds filling the room were sinful, your hands moving in sync with your mouth, twisting around his length with practiced ease. Heeseung was falling apart beneath you, his breathing ragged, his jaw clenched so tightly you could see the muscle ticking.
“Shit, baby,” he panted, his head tipping back for a second before he forced his gaze to go back to you, dark with something almost feral. “You’re gonna make me come so fucking fast.”
You smirked around him, moving faster, your nails gliding against his sensitive skin in just the right way. His hips stuttered, his body going tense as he let out a strangled groan.
Then, he pulled you off him as his hand tugged at your chin, making you look up.
"Not yet," he huffed out huskily; his thumb made a swipe of your swollen lips. "I wanna come inside you.
You barely had time to react before he pulled you up onto his lap, his hands grasping your waist, his lips crashing against yours in a bruising, hungry kiss.
“Ah, you're in for it now, baby,” he whispered against your lips, hands sliding under your dress. “Gonna fuck you so good you'll be needing a whole new set of nails by tomorrow..”
And from the way he manhandled you onto the couch, you knew he meant every word.
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deathofacupid · 1 day ago
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you can't remember your last kiss with nanami kento. no matter how much you try, you just can't.
was it this morning? when he woke you up, newborn daughter in-hand? no, that couldn't have been it. because, after, he kissed you again, chaste, as he moved past you to get to the dishwasher.
and then again, when he set your breakfast on the table. another time after, too. when he settled on the couch with you and his baby girl.
but was that the last one? or, was there more after?
you can't remember. in your defense, you didn't have a reason to keep track. there shouldn't have been. the second you told him you were pregnant, he dropped the world of jujutsu. it was over, or it should have been.
speaking of, your pregnancy, it wasn't ever anything you really wanted. it was something he did. kids. it was his dream, you're pretty sure, the whole white-picket-fence fantasy.
and you? you didn't care, not much. as long as you had nanami, you were okay with anything. besides, he'd been so happy when you broke the news. it's not like you guys had been actively trying, which is why you were surprised to see his reaction.
but again, for him, you'd do anything. what did it matter, anyways? it was just a kid, right? and he'd be there every step of the way, right?
wrong.
it was another sunday, the three of you had been snuggled up in bed, just when he got the call.
"they want me to come in," he explained, softly.
"what?" you knew the answer.
"i won't go if you don't want me to. but, darling, i doubt they'd have called me in, if it hadn't been urgent."
you inhaled, watching him gently rock his daughter in his arms. "does- does that mean it's bad, then?"
"well, i'm sure it's nothing i can't handle," he informed you, paired with a soft smile.
"i don't know, na'mi. you said you weren't gonna go back." there was hesitance in your voice, one that trembled.
"honey, that's why i said it's up to you, okay?" nanami pressed his lips to your forehead.
if people really needed him, who were you to not let him go? what were you supposed to do? say no, let those people die? guilt gnawed at you. slowly, you nodded, looking up to meet his gaze.
so, as you stood there at the door, watching him kiss his baby what should've been a temporary goodbye.
you can't remember if he kissed you goodbye, too. he probably did, but you can't remember.
"promise you'll come back to me?" you'd buried your face into the crook of his neck.
"of course, baby. i promise."
fucking liar.
oh, god, and when they told you there wasn't even a body to recover?
too much. all too much.
you think that you would've followed him, had there not have been his baby stopping you.
kiss, kiss, kiss; why can't you remember? why?
the cries of his baby, the baby that yearns for her father, they are etched into your head. you can't get her to stop. you don't blame her. you can't stop, either.
you aren't her mother. she isn't your daughter.
she's nanami's, but he's gone.
the only thing he left you with is a child you never wanted, a living, breathing reminder of his absence, of his broken promise, of the kiss you can't remember — the kiss that might as well have never happened.
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just-some-random-blogger · 11 hours ago
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LKAHSFL'H I CANT BELIEVE I HAVENT REBLOGGED THIS YET LAKSFHLKASHFL'HASFHASF ASF YOU MUST FORGIVE ME I DONT WANT TO CLOG THE DASH WITH A REBLOG OF THE SAME CHAPTER YA FEEL ILY ILY
first of all, almost crying during a nail appointment is honestly such iconic behavior HAHAHHAHAHHAH LOLOLOL. im kinda sad you stopped reading ): you should have cried during the nail appointment AHHAHAHAHAHAH LOLOLOL JK
CARGYLL TWIN SCREENTIME GO BRRRRRRRRRR RAHHHH. i would never take erryk or arryk for that matter from you <3 I WISH THEY HAD MORE SCREEN TIME IN THE SHOW FR THEY FUCKING KILLED THEM AND TRAUMATIZED ME AND FOR WHAT???????????
and viserys yeah 😬😬😬 T_T i love making people have sympathy for him even when hes disgusting 😁 because thats the whole point of this story (: i love my barbies. i wish him a very much rot
STARK OBESSION GO BRRR. tumblr notified me you posted something and I RAN COS I THOUGHT IT WAS AN UPDATE but it was just a reblog of your fic 🙄 WHICH IS FINE AND IM NOT PRESSURING YOU AT ALL TO UPDATE. job and robb are hot fr but i wanted benjen THEN THEY FUCKING OFFED HIM 🤬 also HE PROBABLY HAS ONE HAS ME GAGGED.
[...] Older me can now see Ned's appeal too. He probably has one, with how much Catelyn loved having his babies)
I WAS ABOUT TO ASK 'HAS WHAT' then i realized you mean APPEAL T_T he probably has APPEAL T_T CRYINNNGGGGGGGG. i cant help but think about all the boromir memes (cuz you know sean bean) and how his dad would react to this MY SON HAS APPEAL 🤬 HAHAHAHAH LMAO. honestly, i feel catelyn. if i was married to a stark id have 10000 babies too AHHAHA LOL
The scene where she lost the babies hurt me physically. I now get what you said and why you laughed when I hoped the baby was valyrian to spare her the pain, you cruel, cruel woman.
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its ok i love you
DAEMON GROVEL ERA IS A NEED. dont worry about spam liking i love it when that happens
[...] making Viserys and Alicent's marriage be all about him [...]
YOU KNOW WHAT YOURE SO RIGHT. HE THINKS HES THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE FR OMLLL UGHHH EWW
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HERES TO HIM BEING JEALOUS AND SUFFERING FOREVER FOR LIFE
ALSO MY GEORGE FIC WEEE I THINK IT WAS REALLY CUTE! i was honestly gagged that i struggled to write fluff 💀 all because of this series 😀 BUT THENI GOT MY GROOVE AND IM MAKING A GEORGE ANGST NOW BECAUSE IM INSANE HAHAHHA I LOVE YOU SO MUCH
Tormented Spirit | 12
Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."
Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: i would just like to bring everyone's attention to the fact this fic is called tormented spirit. BTW some of yall might wanna read my weasely twins fluff cuz 😀 yeah you should read some fluff! leave comments/reblogs ok!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS | cross posted on ao3
@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones
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Since your sister's wedding, there were two things you no longer did: speak to your sister and go to your father. Everyday, instead of having the Lord Hand accompany you to your maester, you were accompanied by one of your wards.
At first, you were apprehensive with the change. After all, they were your knights, but neither of them were the father to your babe, and even fathers were rarely involved with prenatal care. Though, the patience they extended is not unusual, you were surprised that Erryk and Arryk took time asking the maester additional information concerning things that might need their attention in the future.
Today, you walk to the maester's ward, one hand on your belly the other on Erryk's bicep. As he opens the door, you freeze when you hear the voices in the room.
"Daughter." "Sister."
These words are spoken at the same time. You clench your teeth and turn to Erryk, whose jaw is set. You take a breath and decide to simply come back later.
Alicent stands the cot she sat upon and raises a hand, "please! I'm finished. You can come now."
Finished? Why is she being examined by the maester?
Otto is angered by your persistence to ignore them. He scowls and glares at Erryk, "you remind your princess to practice some humility," he points a finger, "her actions are affecting the queen, who is now carrying an heir."
Your face drops as you turn to her.
She is already staring at you. You watch her pick her nails. You catch the redness of her cuticles.
Erryk is equally shocked. He stutters before nodding in regard, "congratulations, my queen."
Alicent shakes her head, forcing a smile, "t-thank you, ser."
Your father's eyes remain on you. He waits for you to offer the same sentiment, but his anger only intensifies at your continued silence. He scoffs, "will you not even congratulate your sister?"
You clutch your pronounced belly and turn to your maester, "may we please do the examination? I cannot bear to stand for long."
Otto and Alicent watch you move past them. The latter is resigned to your commitment of not speaking to her, the former seethes and laughs dryly. He offers his arm to the queen, "come, daughter. Let us pray that your sister's impertinence is merely as side effect of childbearing."
Your sister spares you a glassy glance before taking Otto's arm and leaving with him. You watch as they leave, feeling yourself grow hard of breathing.
The maester asks you to sit, but before you do, you snatch his arm, "is she truly with child?"
He looks at your teary face. He feels the tremble of your hand as he places his own atop of it. He carefully speaks "it is joyous news, is it not?"
You release a shaky breath as he helps you sit.
"Princess," the maester warily says, "breathe for me. We cannot proceed if you overcome by your affliction."
You place both your hands on your belly and take a couple deep breaths. You close your eyes and resist the sob that threatens to come. A couple of tears wet your cheeks, but you manage to remain intact. You wipe your face and mutter to yourself, "it's barely been a moon since they've wed."
Your maester hears it though and offers, "your sister is blessed with a fertile womb."
You wish he had not tried to comfort you with such an idea.
You try not to think of Alicent as you do your daily examination, but she is all you think of. You think of how frightened she must be. You think of how your father surely told her about your daily visits to the maester. You wonder if he would force her to do the same, just to get you to talk to her. She wouldn't need daily examinations like you; she is perfectly healthy, stronger than you, as she said herself.
You are so deep in thought, you don't even realize the maester was finished with you, up until he says something that demands your full attention.
"What?" you knit your brows at him.
"We will be more certain of it as the moons wax and wane, but considering you are a twin yourself, and, again, because of the rather rapid growth of your belly, chances are my deduction is correct."
He helps you up and Erryk is quick to take your arm. You mutter through a shaky breath, "I'm carrying twins?"
Your maester nods, "highly likely."
You turn to Erryk, who offers you a reassuring smile, "I... congratulate you, my princess."
You stare at him for a moment and blink rapidly.
"You might give birth to a boy and girl who will have the same devotion you and your brother have," Erryk says in an attempt to take away some of the fear written across your face.
It does actually. You recall your visit to Oldtown and find yourself nodding, "I... I must write a letter at once."
Many moons come and go, but across the sea, the sun shines. Daemon's day has just started. His mood is nothing but sour, as it always is. He is loathe to start his day, but he does, and with a grunt, and leaves his tent to break his fast.
We eats with the Velaryons, Corlys, Vaemond, and Laenor, and though he did not hold any particular fondness for them, there was something in the way they all spoke in nothing but High Valyrian that made mornings not completely unbearable.
"My prince," Corlys greets him in their mother tongue. He hands Daemon a plate, "duck."
Daemon raises his brow at it, "with salt?"
"And pepper," Leanor says with a half-amused expression.
"My," Daemon sits down with them, "I am spoiled."
Corlys waits for Daemon to have a few bites before continuing conversation. He clears his throat, "before the day passes, allow me, my brother, and my son-" he looks between the said people, earning furrowed brows from Laenor, "-to greet you, both on behalf of House Velaryon, and as your comrade in battle for you—"
"Oh, yes!" Leanor interjects once he remembers, "congratulations, my prince!"
This earns him a look from his father, and his uncle. Laenor, who had been grinning, slowly raises his brows, "a-... apologies for interrupting, father."
Corlys sighs, "as I was-"
"And have we won the war overnight?" the prince says, rather uninterested, both in small talk and in his duck.
Corlys is confused by this, "I... no." He slowly tilts his head, "does your lady wife not write to you?"
Daemon is immediately on edge at the mention of you, "and what of her?"
Corlys narrows his eyes. He puts him to the test, "... you are aware your brother, the king, has remarried?"
Daemon whips his head his direction.
"And that also he expects an heir to be delivered come spring?"
"Remarried?!" Daemon repeats in offence, "and which scheming cunt managed to tricked him into marriage?"
Corlys turns to Vaemond, who turns to Leanor, who turns back to Corlys. The latter clears his throat, "your bride's sister, my prince."
His eyes widen. He looks between the Velaryons, then scoffs dryly. He begins to laugh, "that roach of a Hand has Viserys's bollocks shoved down his fucking throat."
Their faces contort at the foul language. Vaemond, in particular, is so offended that he cannot help but ask, "doesn't the princess write to you every day?"
Daemon clenches his plate
"And she never mentioned thi—"
"WHAT USE HAVE I TO READ THE WEEPY WRITING OF MY WIFE?!" the prince snaps, coming to a stand as he chucks his plate to the ground.
Corlys understands then Daemon's initial shock. However, he is still confused, "have you not read any letters from your wife?"
"Would you rather I be distracted, Corlys?" he snaps again, hands now clenched into fists.
Corlys is not intimidated by Daemon's anger, but he is also unincited by the idea a fight. He raises his hands in surrender, "most men gladly welcome distractions in the heat of war."
Daemon chuckles dryly, "I am not most men," then storms all the way back to his tent.
"Jiōragon hen ñuha ñuhoso!" he snaps in High Valyrian still, shoving the unwitting soldier aside. Get out of my way!
He returns to his tent. Another unwitting victim is there. "My prince," he bows, "a letter from Lady H-" Daemon snags the letter from him and shoves him away with exceeding anger and force.
He enters his tent and immediately chucks the letter to the floor, as if it was a vase he intended to shatter into a million pieces. It doesn't, of course; the paper remains intact, along with its seal. He crushes it beneath his heel then grabs the sack containing all your unread letters. He empties it on the floor and violently begins to stomp all over them.
You were his. You were meant to be his! Yet here you were, a pawn in someone else's game. His lust and infatuation has blinded him from this truth. You and your sister were mere tools of your cunt father to manipulate the throne.
He continues to trample your letters until they are brown with the dirt. He catches a lone letter that managed to evade his violence. He picks the unscathed object and only now does he realize its red waxen seal had an imprint of a dragon with a long neck that resembled Caraxes. Daemon scoffs, even his dragon you covet.
He breaks the seal. The letter was sent nearly a moon ago.
𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩. ℑ𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔬 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔫𝔬𝔴. ℑ 𝔫𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔰 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔫 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤'𝔰 𝔏𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢; ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡. ℑ 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔫. ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢, 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔲𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔱 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔬𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔫, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔬𝔬𝔫. 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔣𝔢
A good place to raise children?! He scoffs and crumples the paper away. You fantasize of bearing his seed now? He laughs at the idea, chucking the paper across his tent. His amusement goes dry when he realizes it must be your father's ploy.
He's read enough.
Back in the Keep, you too receive a letter. It is from Gwayne, whose weekly response has finally arrived. You do not mind that he does not write to you daily as you did; you are grateful to receive a response at all.
You were set on reading his response, but as is was, you were experiencing terrible nausea and found yourself unable to sit or lie still. For some reason, the only thing that could combat this was walking around. You instead had your ward read your brother's words aloud for you.
Arryk's eyes trail back and forth you and your letter. He comes to your side when you gag, "princess."
You place a hand on your mouth, walking away from him. He watches as you circle your bed, "perhaps, I-"
"Please," you sigh, "do not make me beg you to read it."
Arryk stiffens and shakes his head, "my apologies, your grace." He turns to the parchment, "my twin."
" Louder," you grunt as you momentarily lean on your bed.
"My twin," Arryk repeats slightly louder, "I pray that your health is good, that you have been eating and sleeping as goodly as you did in the days of your visit here."
You take a deep breath and walk towards nothing in particular.
"While I confess a certain light has been lost in the halls of our Oldtown home since your leave, I..." your ward knits his brows, "disagree with your sentiments to return."
"What?" you gasp softly, turning to Arryk.
He looks at you and hesitates, "I... will not honey my words: you disappoint me with your coldness towards our youngest."
You clench your teeth as you feel another gag coming up, "fucking, Gwayne."
"She has written to me more than once to lament your severed relations since she's wed."
Your scoff makes Arryk pause. You look at him as you walk over, "do not stop."
He looks at you as you walk past him. He clears his throat, "I did not speak of it until now, for I believed you to be wiser than your betrayal."
"Ha!" you scoff, eyes immediately watering, "incorrigible pest," you grunt and rub your belly. You pace faster, "unyielding. Unfeeling."
Arryk watches you pace and takes a few steps back and forth so to remain arms reach of you.
"Continue!"
He stiffens, "I—," he turns back to your brother's words, "you've written you believe it will be better for you both that you away, lest your childbearing interlope with hers. I disagree. Consider me a fool-"
"He is," you scratch your eyes.
"-a man who knows nothing of childbirth, which I am, but I know my sisters— I know you at the very least." Arryk watches you as he says the next words, "leaving Alicent will haunt you, your satisfaction short-lived."
You stop in your tracks. You feel your dress tighten around you.
"Lay down your pride and allow yourself to reach for your sister who understands your struggle unlike anyone in the Seven Realms now more than ever."
You feel sick, sicker.
"Upon doing so, see then if you still wish to come to home."
You heave as you continue walking around.
"I offer many prayers to the Mother for both you and our sister. We are truly grown from the same womb, for I too share in your hope that you give birth to a twin boy and girl."
You rub your belly, as the thought softens you a fraction.
"Mostly, I speak thanks and praise for I am to be doubly an uncle. I pray your births come timely and smoothly, and I pray the Lord Hand has extended nothing but gentleness to you both," he folds the paper, "Your Twin."
"See now," you turn to Arryk, "even my twin betrays me, abandons me," you feel tears run down your cheek.
He slowly walks towards you, "that is not what he's done, my princess."
"Then what?!" you shake your hands, "am I not allowed even my anger now?!"
He is taken off guard when you shove him back.
"Even you are against me!"
Arryk steps back, though you barely mustered enough force for him to need to. You quickly pace around again. He feels the flesh beneath his steel you touched begin to push. His lips part "do not accuse me so harshly."
You whip your head back, glaring at him with red eyes, "SHE COULD HAVE BEEN MARRIED TO A LORD IN THE RIVERLANDS! OR HIGHGARDEN!" You throw your hand out, "ANYWHERE BUT HERE, BUT HERE SHE IS!"
His face falls when your rage makes you crumble. He gasp your name out as he catches you just before you fall.
"And for what?!" you wheeze as you are dragged to your bed. You rip at your collar as your chest tightens and tightens and tightens, "for me?"
"Princess," the knight's voice breaks with worry as he sits you down, "I beg you, ple-"
"Undress me," you mutter as you strugggle for air, "unlace my dress, I-"
He does not wait. He is quick to undo your bodice. He is so frantic, he nearly cuts your ties.
You moan as you feel a pressure leave you. You rip your dress off you, thinking of nothing else but catching your breath. Arryk helps you undress and you find it slightly easier to breath once you are left in nothing but your chemise.
Your ward struggles with himself; he does not wish to take advantage of this moment to ogle you, but he also cannot avert his gaze completely, lest you need his assistance. He clenches his jaw and lowers his gaze to his lap, muttering your name softly.
"Never mind my inadequacies, Arryk," you sigh in between deep breaths, "never mind that I will forever be second best to my father, who even wed me to his greatest enemy... who I am to make grandsire to not one but two Targaryen babes."
"Princess," he shakes his head, "I do not wish to-"
"I am used to his insistence of my dimness," you rub your chest, "of my capacity only for tears and succumbing to my own pain," your lips wobble, "but my sister—"
He stiffens and turns to you as lean into him. Your breath is too short and your head too heavy for you to keep yourself upright. Arryk calls our your name as he shifts, bringing his arm around to pull you upright.
"No," you wince, feeling a sharp pain in your belly, "hold me please."
He is immediately alarmed by how you clutch your side, "princess, are you-"
"Please," you rest your head on his armor, "hold me, even if you do not want to."
His hand twitches before, placing it your bare arm. He leans close, close enough to press his lips on your head, but he does not dare. He rubs your skin and whispers, "I want for nothing else."
You are too distracted by yourself that you do not hear him. Uncomfortable as the feel of his armor was, he lulls you into calmness.
When you feel well enough to realize how compromising it would be if someone were to witness you both, you pull away.
He says nothing, does nothing. He simply sit besides you, taking in your sad face.
You a tear drip from the tip of your nose. You rub it away before mumbling, "I had well-made plans for her... plans to shield her, to prosper her."
His eyes fall. He looks at the hand you had on your lap and dares to take it. It is cold and clammy, which is why he rubs it, eager to spread warmth.
The gesture makes goosebumps form on your arms. It makes your breath hitch, but not in a painful way. His gentleness encourages you to continue, "I once thought she looked up to me," you sniffle, "but when she said she was stronger than I," you lower your head.
He frowns.
"I knew then," you look back at him, "she sees only my weakness, along with the rest of the world."
He cannot help himself. He reaches for your cheek and wipes your tears.
You lean into his touch, "I can be strong, Arryk," you both his hands and squeeze them to prove a point, "can you not feel it?"
The gesture makes his heart break. He squeezes your hands in return, "you need not prove such a thing to me," he rubs your skin with his thumbs, "perhaps she does not want you to be strong... not for her."
You huff, "I am her older si-"
"But for your babe."
You are frozen by his words. You open your mouth but find nothing to say.
"Your brother," he gives you a solemn expression, "he says he prays the Lord Hand extends his gentleness to you, but I wonder if all that remained of his gentleness manifested into his daughters' beings."
The thought brings a tear from your eye, "Arryk."
"My princess."
"Should I speak to my sister come the morrow?"
He squeezes your hand again before slowly nodding.
The next day, you do everything in your power to do just that. You found Alicent breaking her fast, but you did not want to inadvertently ruin her appetite with your sudden appearance, for you knew how fickle it was in these times. Later, you found her in her chambers napping, but you didn't wish to interrupt her then either.
The rest of the day, you started feeling unwell, and you could not find it in you to leave your own chambers. When you finally did, the sun had set and Alicent was nowhere to be found. As a last resort, you ventured to the king's chambers.
Erryk announces you once you reach Viserys's door. You look at your knight with apprehension but he only returns a reassuring nod. There is a rather... sickly smell that assaults your senses when the door opens. The king himself answers, brows quirked in surprise.
"My king," you barely manage a curtsy. Erryk nods, "your grace."
Viserys regards you both then asks, "what brings you to my chambers at this hour?"
"I wanted to know if my sister was here," you absentmindedly rub your belly, "I wish to speak to her."
The king catches your belly, "oh, yes." He places a hand on your shoulder, "you are also with child," he chuckles, "I keep forgetting to congratulate you face to face."
You are taken aback by the half-hug he pulls you into.
Viserys chuckles as he pulls away, "well done, my dear. You have made the realm, and more importantly my brother, all the more richer for this."
You are rigid as he beckons you inside. Viserys motions to Erryk dismissively, and he nods. You wards gives you a silent look, and you know he'll wait for you outside.
Once you enter, you are assaulted by a scent that has clearly been attempted to be masked by fragrances. It makes you gag slightly, but it is not so bad that you cannot comport yourself.
You had expected to be lead to your sister, but instead, the king leads you to a massive diorama of what you could tell to be King's Landing.
"I am unsure where my wife is presently-"
His regard to your sister makes you clench your jaw.
"-but she visits me oft at this time of hour. Might as well show you my miniature figurines whilst waiting," he grins as he motions to the said object.
You feel an uncomfortable twinge in your stomach as you walk over to him.
Viserys immediately beams over his creation, recounting the trouble he had carving out the tower, exclaiming how much he enjoyed shaping the bridge. You have never seen him in such a light and it makes you wonder if this was his true self. Did he regard your husband this way? What were they like as children?
As he handed you two separate failed attempts of carving his fallen dragon, Balerion, you listen to him muse how the beast's skull was preserved in the basement bellow, and how he would gladly bring you there if you wanted to see. You groan and slightly lurch when another painful sensation ripples within you.
Viserys notices this. He quickly takes the figurines from you, "oh, where are my manners," he pulls a chair to your side, "sit, sit."
You gratefully take a seat and take a couple deep breathes as the king continues to drone about his diorama.
"You know, I used to make toy soldiers for Daemon growing up. I was aghast when he came back to me with severed heads."
You chuckle at his words, but instantly regret it when it adds to your pain.
"I still made him new ones, but this time, I put less effort and detail," Viserys speaks before noticing your reaction, "are you alright?"
"Mmm," you shake your head, "I think my babes are moving."
His brows quirk, "ah. That's right. You are expecting twins, are you not?"
You release a sigh when the uncomfortable sensations finally wane. You take a breath and offering a smile, "so says my maester. I hope it to be a boy and girl, like me and Gwayne."
He smiles, "it is quite fortunate that you and your sister are to have children at the same time," he looks over his miniature castle, "don't you think?"
"I think..." you turn to your belly, another groan leaving your lips, "Alicent is not ready to have children."
Viserys turns to you.
You look up at him and purse your lips, "nor am I."
He chuckles softly, "none of us are," he places a hand on your shoulder, "but I assure you, you learn as you go."
You find no comfort in his words.
"You know who has been ready though," he raises a finger, "Daemon."
The thought nearly makes you flinch.
He chuckles, "do not look so averted. There is gentleness in him," he turns back to his diorama, "do you not perceive it?"
You begin to feel sick.
"I tell you, when Rhaenyra was born, his face shone."
Your brows tighten at the smile the king offers you.
"I could tell as he held my child, he thought her the most precious thing in the worlds," Viserys face softens, "I could tell he wanted to have something precious to hold as his own," he absentmindedly examines a chisel, "the gods bless me with a wife who is going to birth me something precious," he turns to you, "and a good-sister who is going to birth my brother something doubly precious."
His words make your heart tinge. You are blindsided by how genuine, how vulnerable your conversation is. You wonder if Alicent saw this amidst the cruelty of the world and decided to settle for it rather than the uncertainty from another man. As he falls deeper into another fond tale of his brother, you feel a dull pain spread across your hips.
"That reminds me," he claps his hands, "do you have any names picked out yet?"
You shift uncomfortably in your chair, "well... I've-" you huff, "gone through some books that held Valyrian names," you inhale, "and found a few names for boys, namely Vaerus,—"
"Ah, Vaerus," Viserys repeats, "meaning genuine."
"Eadan—"
He grins and points, "little fire."
"—and Alaeric," you huff.
"Hmm," he turns to the ceiling in thought, "no, I don't know that one."
You are restless because of your pain. You groan as you stand, "I- mmm- prefer the last one the most because it is similar to my mother's name, and I should like to name my boy and girl after her."
He chuckles, "you seem quite set on a boy and a girl."
"Mmm," you hum uncomfortably, "I- I hope for it." You rub your belly, "I hope they have fondness for each other like me and mine own twin."
He knits his brows at your demeanor, "a son and a daughter would suit you well," he smiles fondly, "what was the name of your late mother again?"
"A-" you groan, "Alyrie."
Viserys finally reaches for you, "are you quite certain you're alright?"
You hum as you take the king's bicep, squeezing him tightly, "mmm, I should like to lie down now."
"Yes, of course," he shakes his head, leading you to the door.
Just before you can reach the entrance, a great pain forces you to lurch forward and yelp. You grip onto Viserys's arm for dear life and he grips you with hands. He thinks to grab the chair he pulled for you again, but as he looks back , his eyes widen at the trail of blood that leads to it. "GUARD! GUARD!"
You are in too much pain to react to the king's screams. You can only screw your eyes shut.
Erryk bursts through the doors, face white, heart racing.
"CALL THE MAESTER AT ONCE! SHE'S BLEEDING!"
Your eyes widen at the word, "bleeding?" You momentarily manage to gather enough wits to see what Viserys was speaking of.
Erryk does not linger in his horror. He bolts out and sprints down the halls, screaming for a maester as if his life depended on it because yours did.
The sight of your blood is mortifying. You lift your skirt as pain continues to seizes and a horrified noise leaves you when you find the red that pools by your foot.
It all happens at once after. An ache so great forces you to the floor. You are burning hot yet shivers run down your spine. You do not know if Viserys is speaking as you slowly crumple your knees but you do know that you are screaming loud.
Then it passes. Serenity ebbs and flows. You manage to sit on your but, but then it's back with a vengeance. You resist the squeal that morphs into to a shriek and then— you gasp, "no."
Viserys watches, the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms watches as you rip your skirt up and tear your ruined undergarments down, powerless.
Your scream makes his stomach curdle.
Your hands tremble as you reach for the two small bodies between your thighs. You bring them into your chest, uncaring of all else, how wet they are, how red stains you, how Viserys speaks your name. Your babes are are small; they are both far, far too small.
Anguish draws more noises from your throat. It doesn't take long until your voice is hoarse. You cannot keep your peace as you take in their tiny faces. You wipe them with your skirt, finding the silver of their brows and lashes. You also find the gods gave you a girl and a boy. You choke on a sob as you wipe the red away from their thin, white locks, "please wake for your mummy."
The words arrest Viserys. He recalls holding Baelon as life left him. He cherishes now more than ever that at least his boy gazed upon him once. He shares in your misery, yet does not know if how he should approach you; he does not know if he should. He does anyway, no matter how haunting the sound of your wails are.
You quiet momentarily as the man crouches beside you. Your lips wobble, "p-perhaps they'll wake up if you speak High Valyrian."
The thought is gutting.
You gently pull at one babe's eyelid, finding a violet eye looking back at you. Except it isn't looking at you at all and the thought makes you squall. You clutch your children tightly into your chest, rocking them back and forth, "forgive me, my loves. Forgive me for birthing you too soon."
Erryk finally arrives with the maesters. He is stunned in his spot whereas the maesters run to your side. He falls to his knees as lift your children up. They do not touch them, but instead look at each other before muttering something that makes you pull your twins back into your chest.
Your ward is ashamed to face you. He has failed you. Erryk comes to a stand and dares to come near you. You do not notice him. You do not care for anything or anyone else in this moment.
Crimson grief trails behind you as you make your way to the maester's ward. Erryk meant to carry you, but you refused, knowing the walk there would be the last time you'd ever get to hold your children. He silently walks beside you, eyeing your every move.
You freeze when you see your sister by the door. Erryk looks between the two of you, ready to give you space.
Alicent is distraught. Her eyes are nearly as red as yours and you can how her hands tremble even as she picks at them, "sister, I-"
"I wanted to talk to you earlier today."
Her face falls and she immediately runs up to you. She reaches for you but stops herself.
You frown at it, thinking it was because you had been cruel to her, "forgive me, sister."
She rapidly shakes her head, "do not even mention it."
A tear fog your vision, "very well," you sniffle as you lower your gaze, "would... would you like to see them?
She wordlessly agrees.
You step closer to her, "this is Alaeric... and Alyrie."
A hand comes to her mouth, "sister."
"They're perfect, are they not?"
She nods rapidly, "yes—" she shudders, "they are."
You sob with her as she brings her arms around you. Erryk cannot bare the sight. Hot tears run into his armor. Both him and Alicent stay with you as the maester's see to your health. They let you hold Alaeric and Alyrie until your examination commences, and then you confess that if they do not take them now, you will never let them be taken from you ever again.
You were exhausted as you lie in bed. Your body yearned for repose, but you could do nothing of the sort. You groggily stand and walk to your door.
Erryk starts. You caught him in the middle of scratching tears away from his eyes. You frown, "forgive me."
"No, princess," he shakes his head and turns to you, "how might I serve."
You bite your lip, hating yourself for what you were about to request, "I know it is terrible..." you sigh deeply, "I know it is inappropriate, and wrong, and an abuse of my power over you," you tremble, "but please you sleep with me."
"My princess, I-"
"Please," you raise a hand, "if it is too horrible, per- perhaps-" you hiccup, "you can drag the set— the settee beside my bed-"
He silences you by taking your raised hand. You continue to sob as he shakes his head, "I would do anything you ask of me."
You sob and throw your arms around him. Erryk embraces you back, though he was afraid his hard uniform might hurt you.
Otto sees this exchange from across the hall. He had not been moved to tears until this moment. He scratches his eyes before they fall and steels himself away as he walks off. He mentally takes note to observe the Cargyll brothers and to sternly remind them of their vows.
Erryk follows you to your bed. You crawl into your bed as he drags the settee from across the room beside you. You offer him a pillow and he gratefully take it. You knit your brows when he lies down. You sniffle, "will you not take your armor off?"
"I..." he start, about to explain it is inappropriate.
"Is it hard to remove by yourself?" you sit up, "I can help."
"I-" but his words go dry when you begin to undo his steel uniform with much ease.
All your years assisting Gwayne in and out of his armor has made the act come easy for you. You think nothing of it, but Erryk's heart races as you undo his chest plate. He sucks in a sharp breath as you put the metal down, then refuses your help, resigning to undo the rest himself.
You sink into your sheets as you watch your knight lay his armor down. It occurs to you in this moment that this was the first time you'd ever seen him without it. Even through his loose dress shirt, you can see his defined arms and torso. You even see a sliver of a scar from where his shirt opened on his chest and it makes you avert your gaze, knowing you've looked where you should not have.
Your lips begin to wobble as you think of Daemon and the scars he had on his skin. You feel pathetic as you begin to sob again.
Erryk hates the sound. He sits down on the settee and sniffles, "would you like me to sing for you?"
You wipe the snot on your philtrum as you look at him.
"I do not think I inherited her voice, but my mother used to sing to my brother and I when we were younger."
The word mother makes you feel sick, but you do not tell him that, and simply nod.
He clears his throat and takes a breath, "the fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head."
A chuckle is drawn amidst your tears as Erryk continues to sing.
"The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."
You ask him to repeat this song over and over and he humors you each time.
The day breaks and Arryk comes to your door for his shift. He holds a basket of flowers and a frown. He knocks on your door and announces himself. He is surprised when he hears footsteps approaching. His eyes widen when Erryk opens the door for him. His mouth falls at the messiness of his hair, then it clicks. Arryk nearly drops his basket as he grabs his twin by the collar, "what in seven hells have you done, you fool?"
Erryk is stoic as he responds, "my duty."
"Your-" he looks over his shoulder and pushes his brother into the room, closing the door behind him. Arryk makes sure to keep the silence and spares you a quick glance. The sight of your sleeping form makes him slightly soften, but he still manages to glare at his brother, "did you sleep here?"
Erryk turns to you, "she asked-"
"Did you sleep with her?" Arryk snaps.
The twins glare at each other. Erryk's face contorts in disgust, "I slept on the settee, brother. What do you take me fo-"
"I take you for a fool!" Arryk quips under his breath as he points an accusing finger.
Erryk scoffs, clenching his fist, "and you would have left?"
"I would have waited for her to sleep and resumed my post outsi-"
"Please."
The twins turn, finding you sitting on your bed, rubbing your puffy face. They both instinctively step forward and speak in unison, "princess."
"Please," you repeat, "I asked him to stay."
Arryk turns to Erryk.
"I do not want you to argue because-" you cannot continue because you begin to cry.
Both their faces fall, but Erryk wastes no time in coming to you. He kneels beside your bed and takes your hand, repeating the song he sang to you last night.
Arryk immediately recognizes the tune. His heart tightens as he watches the display. He mutters under his breath, "what have you done?" He walks over to him and watches the way you squeeze his brother's hand. He thinks of how you did the same for him just yesterday and clenches the basket's handle tightly. He begins to sing with his twin.
"The fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head.
The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."
These are the very words you sing to your sister's son.
Alicent was with child again, and you were giving her a much needed reprieve from her energetic boy who was now nearing his second name day. Aegon happily reached for flowers as you carried him through the gardens. He laughs with not a care in the world. It is strange how deeply happy and deeply sad the boy makes you feel.
Through it all, you smile as you sing. You bounce him in your hip once you finish, "right, shall we go back now?"
Aegon blissfully ignores you when his hand brushes against a flower. You pull him away before he can grab it, and push his hand down, "no, my love, we do not pick roses so carelessly."
Aegon cares little for your words and raises his hand again, "flower!"
You push his hand down and look at him, "you want the rose?" You adjust him in your arm, "you want to pick the rose for mummy?"
"Mummy?" Aegon repeats, turning to you to reach for your brown curls.
You chuckle when he tries to eat it and pull your hair away before he manages to, "silly boy. Shall we ask Ser Arryk to pick the flower for us?"
"Flower for mummy!" he bounces in your arms.
You bounce him back, making him giggle as you repeat, "flower for mummy!" You flip your hair back, "Ser Arryk, could you-"
Your mouth goes dry when you see Daemon staring back at you.
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g4rvez-r3id · 3 days ago
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Bad Day
Boyfriend! Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader
Synopsis: You come home from a really bad day and your boyfriend, Spencer is there to save the day… and hold you while you cry.
Category: Fluff, some Angst
Warnings: reader having the worst day of her life, crying, mentions of having bad days, kissing, spencer being the best bf ever- ig that’d be it 🤷‍♀️
Author’s Note: hey lovelies! so this is more of a blurb bc i had a bad day today soooo this was the outcome of said bad day and how spencer would be 😌 can you tell i’m projecting again? oops. oh well.
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This was probably the worst day of your life. Okay, it may not have been the worst day of your life per se, but it seemed like it was in the top ten at the very moment.
Everything that could’ve happened today happened. You woke up late, causing you to be late to work, you missed the bus on top of that, the customers in the store were horrendous and rude and you’d miscounted the deposit in the store at least a hundred times, causing you to be late to your other bus. Oh, and it was raining. Today was just not a good day.
And after your ten hour shift, all you want to do is just go home and cry yourself to sleep and forget this whole day. You’d arrived back home, holding yourself back from crying until you got into your bed. But you unlocked the front door and came home to a pleasant surprise.
Your boyfriend, Spencer was in the living room, reading a book, feet rested on the couch — showing off his mismatched socks — with a small smile on his face. “Hi, angel!” He diverts his attention from the book to you, closing it as he stood up from his spot on the couch. “How was work?”
You look up at him and his face makes you sad. He’s so happy to see you, so joyful even if he has a job being one of the most important people in the world, catching serial killers. He was a hero, essentially and had seen the worst of the worst out there and still managed to put a smile on his face whenever he saw you.
Your shoulders sank and your head fell against his chest and you began to cry into his sweater. And you cried hard. To the point where you were soaking Spencer’s sweater with your tears. Spencer, being the concerned boyfriend he was frowned and rubbed your shoulders, pulling you away from him so he could see you. “Hey,” He spoke softly. “Hey, honey, what’s the matter? Come here.”
He led you over to the couch where you sat down and he kneeled in front of you. “Are you okay? Did something happen?” Spencer asks as he rubs your thigh soothingly and your eyes are shut as you cry but you can feel him staring at you, awaiting an answer because he hates seeing you in this state.
“Everything that could’ve happened happened,” You sniffle. “I’ve had such a horrible day, Spencer.”
Spencer frowns as he sits next to you on the couch and lets you lean on him as you continue to cry and cry. “It was a bad day, that’s all it was.” He says as he rubs your arm. “Shh.” He says as he holds you close.
Eventually, you’re done letting it all out and take a deep breath and you look up at Spencer. You had kept your feelings in all day today until you got home and the minute you saw Spencer, you broke. Mostly because it was easier to be vulnerable with him. He made it easy to. And you were never afraid to express it to him.
Spencer looks at you with a fond, sympathetic smile as he takes the opportunity to wipe the tears away from your cheeks. “I’m sorry.” You tell him as you looked down at his soaked sweater. “Don’t be,” He assures. “It’s normal to have bad days. Bad days are a common human experience, it happens to everyone. It often stemming from stress, poor sleep, or a series of minor inconveniences and while they can feel overwhelming, they can also be a learning opportunity to build resilience and understand yourself better.” He gives you a tight lipped smile after his little fact. And somehow, it makes you feel better about your bad day. “Do you feel any better?” He asks and you shrug with a sniffle, “A little.”
“Well, then how about you hop in the shower and I’ll get your bedroom made up since I put your sheets in the dryer —” He checks his watch. “A little under an hour ago — and I’ll order us takeout and we can have a movie night. And I’ll put on a Disney movie since those seem to cheer you up a lot. Is that okay?” Hearing him say that just makes you want to cry again. Not because you’re ungrateful but because you feel as if you don’t deserve a kind man like Spencer in your life.
Often, people told you to suck it up and get over it and grow up. But Spencer never did. He listened when you had bad days, he sat there when you vented and needed someone to listen to and vice versa. You’d felt vulnerable with him like he had with you. And at first, you weren’t like this. You never opened up to him because you were scared you’d get the same reaction — telling you to get over it, but he never did. He wouldn’t dare to.
“Please don’t cry, my love. I’m sorry.” Spencer says with a small loving smile, holding your face in his hands but you shake your head as him, “I’m not sad,” You tell him. “I’m just… emotional now because… you are seriously my dream man.” You say to him with a small smile and he chuckles at that and pats your thigh as he stands up and goes to the bathroom to get your shower ready.
After you get out of the shower, you go to your room and find Spencer has made your bed, the takeout is here and your TV is on, ready for any streaming networks.
You get into the bed and Spencer happily joins you, opting to turn on Wreck-It-Ralph since you both agreed on it and as the movie starts, you watch him with a small smile.
As he focuses his attention on the screen, you focus your attention on him. His perfect nose, the way it twitches when he’s happy. His brown-on-the-outside, gold-on-the-inside eyes, always so mesmerized in you. And the way they crinkle up when he smiles. And speaking of his smile, the most perfect you’d ever seen it. Next to his hair, which you are currently raking your hands in and brushing through with your fingers. He was so lovely, in your eyes. He was the flower petals to a beautiful rose, he was your everything. Just as you were his. What did you do to deserve him, you wonder.
“No wonder I had a bad day,” You spoke, causing him to turn his head to you and furrow his brows in confusion. “I didn’t have my lucky charm with me.” You say as you brush through his locks.
Spencer has a baffled look on his face at that sentence alone. “I’m your good luck charm, huh?” He asks, raised eyebrows and a small smile appearing across his face.
“The best good luck charm ever.” You lean close and peck his lips with your own and that’s what you’ve missed this entire time. His lips against yours and you can’t help but smile in the kiss.
Blushing like a schoolgirl, you back away from the kiss but he wants seconds. And he grabs you by the chin gently and kisses your lips one last time, so passionately and lovingly and he waits there after the fact, faces close and looking into your eyes as if you made the world stop turning.
You rest your head on his shoulder as you get impossibly close to him as you watch the movie with him and fifteen minutes later, Spencer looks over and sees that you’ve fallen asleep and he lets you rest. And he hopes that your bad day may have turned into a good one at the end of the night.
Spoiler alert: it did.
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writeriguess · 2 days ago
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GUURL What a joy to have you here again. I am very happy to know that you are back to doing something you like and that you do it perfectly anyway. you are amazing, i missed you ╰⁠(⁠*⁠´⁠︶⁠`⁠*⁠)⁠╯
I wanted to request a Bakugou x Reader where he's the bodyguard. maybe something smutty or suggestive with the situation, do what you want with it. (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠。⁠*⁠♡
author's note: Thank you so much! <3 This scenario is so incredibly hot—I couldn't help but make the smut longer. Katsuki as the reader's bodyguard is just irresistible!
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Duty and Desire
The rhythmic clicking of your heels against the marble floors echoed through the grand hallway, each step a reminder of the gilded cage you called life. Tonight’s charity gala was no different from the others—endless forced smiles, hollow conversations, and the subtle undercurrent of danger you’d grown used to.
Trailing behind you was Bakugou Katsuki, his sharp crimson eyes scanning every corner with the intensity of a predator on the hunt. Dressed in a tailored black suit that hugged his broad shoulders and powerful frame, he looked more like someone who belonged at the event than a hired bodyguard. But his scowl—perpetual and deadly—made it clear he wasn’t here to schmooze.
“Will you stop glaring at the walls like they personally offended you?” you teased, glancing back at him with a playful smile.
“Tch. You think this is funny?” he grunted, hands shoved into his pockets. “You’re the one with a damn target on your back. Maybe take it seriously for once.”
You rolled your eyes, but his words carried weight. The threats against you had started small—anonymous emails, cryptic messages slipped under your door—but they’d escalated. Enough for your family to hire Bakugou, a pro-hero known for his explosive temper and unyielding determination, as your personal bodyguard.
Except he didn’t just feel like a bodyguard anymore.
It was in the way his broad shoulders stiffened whenever someone got too close, the way his gaze lingered on you for just a second too long when he thought you weren’t looking. And it was in the way your skin burned whenever his hand brushed yours—brief, accidental, but searing nonetheless.
“Stay close,” he muttered, his voice low and gruff as he stepped forward, placing a firm hand on the small of your back.
The touch was fleeting but deliberate, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You hated how much of an effect he had on you.
“I’m not going to wander off into danger, Katsuki,” you said, turning your head to glance at him.
He arched a brow, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “Yeah, well, I’ve seen the way you get when you’re bored. Don’t make my job harder than it already is.”
The night dragged on, the room filled with the kind of people who thought money equaled worth. You navigated the crowd with practiced ease, playing your part as the dutiful representative of your family. But no matter how many times you smiled or shook hands, you were always aware of Bakugou’s presence—his crimson gaze never leaving you.
Every time someone stepped too close, his hand would brush your arm, your back, your waist, guiding you away with a touch that was equal parts protective and possessive.
“You’re hovering,” you said at one point, turning to face him.
“Yeah, that’s kinda the job, princess,” he shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
The nickname sent a jolt through you, as it always did. It wasn’t affectionate—not really—but there was something about the way he said it that made your stomach flip.
The tension between you simmered beneath the surface, growing harder to ignore with every passing moment. By the time the event wound down, you were desperate for some fresh air.
You slipped away to a secluded balcony, the cool night breeze a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere inside. The distant hum of traffic filled the silence as you leaned against the railing, staring out at the city lights.
But, of course, you weren’t alone for long.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” Bakugou said, his voice cutting through the quiet as he stepped onto the balcony. He shut the door behind him, effectively sealing you both off from the rest of the world.
You turned to face him, leaning back against the railing with a faint smile. “You’re off-duty now, aren’t you?”
“Not until you’re home and locked up safe,” he replied, his hands shoved into his pockets as he approached.
His presence was magnetic, his broad frame and piercing gaze drawing you in despite the simmering annoyance in his tone.
“You don’t have to babysit me, you know,” you said, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.
Bakugou scoffed, his lips curving into a smirk. “Yeah? Tell that to the psychos sending you threats.”
The tension between you crackled like static electricity, the unspoken attraction growing harder to ignore. You didn’t know if it was the moonlight catching in his ash-blond hair, the way his suit hugged his muscular frame, or the fact that he was the only person who ever made you feel truly safe—but you couldn’t deny the pull anymore.
“You’re always so serious,” you murmured, your voice dipping into something softer, more intimate.
“And you’re always so damn reckless,” he shot back, stepping closer until there was barely a breath of space between you.
The heat radiating off him was intoxicating, his scent—smoke and spice—clouding your senses. You tilted your head up, your heart pounding in your chest as his crimson eyes bore into yours.
“Maybe I like testing your limits,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Bakugou’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching at his sides as he stared down at you. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“Don’t I?” you challenged, leaning up just enough to close the remaining distance between you.
For a moment, he didn’t move, his breath mingling with yours as he hovered just out of reach. Then, with a growl of frustration—or maybe surrender—he grabbed your waist and pulled you flush against him, his lips crashing into yours.
The kiss was everything you’d imagined: fierce, demanding, and all-consuming. His hands gripped your hips with enough force to leave bruises, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. You gasped against his mouth, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue past your lips, his kiss turning rougher, more desperate.
“Knew you’d be trouble,” he muttered against your mouth, his voice rough and low as he pressed you back against the railing.
“And yet, here you are,” you shot back, your fingers tangling in his hair as you tugged him closer.
Bakugou growled, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs, lifting you onto the edge of the railing as he stepped between your legs. The cool metal pressed against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of his hands as they roamed over your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he admitted, his lips trailing down your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.
“Good,” you breathed, your head falling back as you clung to him. “Because you’re the only one I trust to catch me when I fall.”
His grip tightened, his gaze blazing as he pulled back just enough to look at you. “Damn right I will. But don’t think this changes anything. You’re still a pain in my ass.”
You laughed, leaning forward to press a softer, lingering kiss to his lips. “And you’re still my favorite pain in mine.”
Bakugou’s lips were relentless against your skin, trailing heat down your neck as his hands gripped your thighs firmly, keeping you steady on the edge of the balcony railing. The cool night air did little to temper the fire burning between the two of you, and with every graze of his teeth, every rough kiss, the world outside the balcony seemed to fade further away.
Your hands roamed over his chest, your fingers gripping the lapels of his suit jacket as if anchoring yourself to him. His body felt solid beneath your touch, every muscle tense and coiled with barely restrained energy.
“Katsuki,” you breathed, your voice breaking as his mouth found the sensitive spot just below your jaw.
He growled low in his throat at the sound of his name spilling from your lips, the vibration of it sending a shiver through you. His hands slid higher, brushing the fabric of your dress aside to squeeze your hips. The pressure of his grip made your head spin, but it was the sudden shift of his body against yours that truly sent your pulse skyrocketing.
You gasped as your thighs brushed against his hips, feeling the unmistakable hardness pressing against you through the thin fabric of your dress.
“Fuck,” you whispered, your eyes widening slightly as you looked up at him.
Bakugou froze for a moment, his crimson eyes locking onto yours as if daring you to say something. His lips curled into a smirk—cocky, almost predatory—as he leaned in closer, his voice a low growl in your ear.
“You feel that, princess?” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “That’s what you do to me.”
The roughness in his voice made your stomach flip, your hands tightening their grip on his jacket as your thighs instinctively pressed together. But he wasn’t about to let you retreat. His hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you flush against him so you could feel every inch of his arousal pressing against you.
“Shit,” you breathed, your cheeks flushing as a wave of heat pooled low in your belly.
“Yeah,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear. “That’s what I thought. You’ve been teasing me all night, haven’t you?”
You swallowed hard, your mind racing as he pressed his hips against you again, his movements deliberate and slow. The friction was maddening, and the smirk on his face told you he knew exactly what he was doing.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you shot back, though your voice came out shakier than you intended.
Bakugou chuckled darkly, his hands sliding down to grip the backs of your thighs. “Flatter myself? Tch, you’re the one squirming.”
“I’m not—” you started, but your words cut off in a gasp as he rolled his hips against yours, the hardness of him pressing perfectly between your legs.
“Not what? Huh?” he taunted, his tone rough and teasing as his lips found yours again, cutting off whatever weak protest you were about to make.
The kiss was dizzying, his tongue sliding against yours with a mix of dominance and desperation. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your body arching into him as the heat between you became unbearable.
“Admit it,” he muttered against your lips, his voice dripping with arrogance. “You like this. You like driving me crazy.”
You let out a shaky laugh, your lips curving into a smirk of your own as you leaned in to nip at his bottom lip. “Maybe I do.”
Bakugou growled, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises as he pulled you even closer. “You’re such a fucking tease.”
“And you love it,” you countered, your breath hitching as he pressed himself against you again, the hardness of him making you dizzy with want.
“Maybe I do,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as his lips trailed down your neck.
Bakugou's lips were back on yours, searing and demanding, as his hands slid down to grip the backs of your thighs. He pulled you closer to the edge of the railing, locking you in place as his hips pressed firmly against yours. The hardness straining against his pants was impossible to ignore, especially as he shifted his hips deliberately, dragging against you in slow, maddening strokes.
“Katsuki,” you gasped, your voice breaking as the friction sent a jolt of heat straight to your core.
He didn’t respond with words—he didn’t need to. Instead, he growled low in his throat, his hands sliding to the underside of your thighs and hoisting you up higher so you were completely at his mercy. The cool night air hit your legs as the fabric of your dress bunched up around your hips, but the heat of his body pressed against you made you forget the chill.
“Fucking soaked already,” he muttered, his voice rough as his crimson eyes dropped to where your bodies met.
You flushed at his words, your breath hitching as you felt his hips press against you again, harder this time. The thin fabric of your panties did nothing to stop the steady, delicious pressure of him rubbing against you, and you bit your lip to stifle the whimper threatening to escape.
“You like this, don’t you?” he asked, his tone dripping with arrogance as he rocked his hips against yours, slow and deliberate. The hardness of him pressed perfectly against your damp center, and the friction had your head spinning.
You clung to his shoulders, your fingers digging into the fabric of his suit jacket as your body moved instinctively to meet his. “Shut up,” you whispered, though the way your thighs tightened around him betrayed you.
Bakugou smirked, leaning in to nip at your ear. “Don’t tell me to shut up when you’re grinding on me like this,” he growled, his voice rough and teasing as he thrust against you again, dragging a gasp from your lips.
The movement sent a wave of pleasure through you, the friction just enough to make you ache for more. Your panties were soaked, clinging to your skin as he continued to press against you, his pace growing rougher, more desperate.
“Katsuki,” you whimpered, your head falling back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
“Say my name like that again,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin.
You obliged, your voice breaking on his name as he ground his hips against yours, the rhythm almost punishing now. Every movement sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your body arching into his as the heat pooled low in your belly.
“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy,” he admitted, his grip on your thighs tightening as he held you steady, his movements growing more erratic.
“You’re the one who started it,” you shot back, though your voice was shaky, barely a whisper as your nails raked down his back.
Bakugou chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing your neck as he thrust against you again, harder this time. “Yeah, but you’re the one who’s gonna finish it.”
The tension between you was unbearable, the heat and friction building to a crescendo as his movements grew rougher, more desperate. You could feel every inch of him through his pants, the hard length of him dragging perfectly against your damp panties, driving you closer and closer to the edge.
“Tell me you want this,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze.
Your breath caught in your throat, your body trembling as you stared up at him. “I—”
“Say it,” he growled, his hips pressing firmly against yours, dragging another gasp from your lips.
“I want it,” you finally whispered, your voice breaking as the words tumbled out.
Bakugou’s eyes darkened, a triumphant smirk curling across his lips as he leaned in to capture your mouth in another searing kiss. “Good,” he muttered against your lips, his movements growing even rougher as he ground against you with enough force to make your legs shake.
The world around you disappeared entirely, leaving only the two of you tangled in a haze of heat and desire, the line between duty and desire long since obliterated.
Bakugou’s movements stilled for a moment, and you felt him pull back just slightly, his forehead pressed against yours. His breath was hot and ragged as his hands slid down to grip your thighs again, his thumbs brushing dangerously close to the edge of your panties.
“You’re killing me,” he muttered, his voice low and rough as he glanced down at where your bodies were pressed together.
You swallowed hard, your breath catching as his fingers hooked around the damp fabric of your panties, tugging it to the side with a deliberate slowness that made your pulse race.
“Katsuki—” you started, but your words dissolved into a sharp gasp as his fingers brushed against your bare skin, grazing your slick folds.
“Shut up,” he growled, his eyes dark with hunger as he leaned in to capture your lips in another bruising kiss.
His free hand moved to his belt, and the sound of the buckle clicking open sent a shiver down your spine. You felt the warmth of his hand as he freed himself, the hard length of him brushing against your thigh.
“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice dripping with arrogance as he shifted his hips, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. “Already soaked, begging for it. You really are a tease.”
Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to steady yourself. “If I’m such a tease, then what does that make you?” you shot back, though your voice was shaky, breathless.
Bakugou smirked, his lips brushing against yours as he pushed forward just enough for you to feel the pressure of him pressing against you, not quite entering yet. “A guy who’s about to give you exactly what you’ve been asking for.”
The heat between you was unbearable, the tension snapping as he finally rolled his hips forward, pushing into you slowly, inch by inch. Your breath hitched, your head falling back as he filled you, the stretch of him making your thighs tremble.
“Fuck,” he growled, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself fully inside you. “So fucking tight.”
Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging hard enough to draw a low groan from him as you arched into him. “Katsuki,” you whimpered, your voice breaking on his name as he pulled back slightly before thrusting into you again, harder this time.
“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice rough as his movements grew more deliberate, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through you.
“Katsuki,” you repeated, your voice trembling as your body moved in rhythm with his.
“That’s right,” he muttered, his lips finding your neck as he bit down gently, his teeth grazing your skin. “You’re mine tonight.”
The world around you faded away entirely, leaving only the heat of his body against yours, the sound of your ragged breaths mingling in the cool night air. Every thrust, every whispered growl of your name, pushed you closer to the edge, and you clung to him as if he were the only thing keeping you grounded.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as his movements became more erratic, more desperate. “I’m not gonna last if you keep squeezing me like that.”
You gasped, your nails raking down his back as the pressure built inside you, your body trembling with the force of it. “I—I’m close,” you managed to whisper, your voice breaking as his thrusts grew harder, faster.
“Then come for me,” he growled, his grip on your hips tightening as he held you steady, driving into you with a relentless pace.
It was all you needed. The tension snapped, and a wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body arching into his as you cried out his name. He wasn’t far behind, his movements growing erratic as he groaned low in his throat, his grip on you almost bruising as he found his own release.
For a moment, the two of you stayed like that, tangled together on the edge of the balcony, your breaths mingling as the cool night air wrapped around you.
“Fuck,” Bakugou muttered, his voice rough as he finally pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “You really are trouble.”
You laughed softly, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you leaned in to kiss him, softer this time. “And you love it.”
His lips curved into a smirk, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement—and something deeper. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice low. “Maybe I do.”
Feel free to request <3
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